#me now: AND YOU KNOW WHAT HERE'S ANOTHER THING I HAVE A PROBLEM WITH

[waterinz]

HAIII UR BLOG THEME IS SO CUTE IM IN LUV!!

more sukuna smut pretty pls 🤭 maybe something ab making reader (his favorite lover/concubine) dumb on his cocks 🤭🤭

AWWW THANK U SO MUCHHHH 🤭

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊🦈˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ☆⋆｡

One and only..

warnings: rough sex, fingering, restraining, kissing, size difference, choking, crying, pet names (love, angel), degrading (slut, whore, “BITCH” USED ONCE), cursing, true form sukuna, aftercare, dacryphillia.

pairings: tf!sukuna x concubine!femreader

A/N: i love reappearing after long periods of time! :3

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊🦈˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ☆⋆｡

Sukuna sat at his desk, looking around at his concubines, more specifically, you. His other ones couldn’t handle him like you could, round after round. Their sex drive wasn’t as high as yours, only you could fuck him in his true form for hours on end and still have energy for more. You were special to him. Other concubines hated you, not only did he give his utmost respect and allow you to call him by his name.

So it wasn’t rocket science if he chose you, almost everytime.

“Lord Ryomen, what about me..?” One cried

“Last time you ended up crying not even a hour in.” He snarled

That might’ve been his last straw with all of them, He released them all the very next day. All except for you. You even asked him why.. You follow him as he walks around

“sukuna, where’s all the other ones?” You questioned him

He turned around, looking down on you and smirked.

“Not here, love, I didn’t need them anymore.” He responded, just as fast

You kinda felt all fuzzy inside by that, He let them all go, just keeping you. As your following sukuna around, you notice this is the way to his room. He had a feeling you noticed where he was going with this.

His face said it all, the way his eyes lidded as he walked into the room with you. Looking around for something to bend you over, his eyes stopped on his desk.

Sukuna wasted no time, bending you over his desk. He already instructed that no concubine “shall walk my hallways with undergarments” which meant, nothing besides your kimono was permitted, for easy access of course. He hummed in amusement, still the only one who compiled with no problem. All the other ones would purposely wear lingerie under their kimono’s, which would force him to rip them off.

“Like a real slut.. already soaking wet.” He mocked, Rubbing a thick finger along your clit.

His degrading never sounded like he was displeased with you, more like praising. But it’s not?

Your efforts to keep quiet were futile, letting out small groans if his finger would slightly dip in as he roamed your entrance.

“Cmon.. we both know you beg for anything else, do it now.” He commanded, still wearing that same grin

“Please fuck me, Sukuna..” You’d mewl.

Sukuna smiled in amusement as he slowly pushed his finger deeper, in response, you groaned quietly.

“You’re lucky I actually like you, If not, I wouldn’t dived in with no prep.” He laughed

It was comforting to know he liked you, even if it wasn’t obvious. He caught you off guard by inserting another finger.

“Shit..” You moaned, holding back tears already.

His strokes were deep, and the farthest from unpleasant. You still couldn’t believe he was only using 2 fingers and you were about to cry. The difference between your cries and the others is yours isn’t ear splitting, he finds only slightly attractive. Sometimes he couldn’t tell if you were crying from pain or pleasure, but he really didn’t care enough to ask.

Just as you felt your high reaching, Sukuna took his fingers out with a pop.

“The only thing I allow you to come on is my cocks.” He exclaimed

You tried to not seem needy and whine. You felt his bulky forearms lift you off the ground and presses you against the wall, spreading your folds while admiring the mess he created in a matter of minutes. He fisted his cocks a few times, maybe 4 times each before strategically inserting both of his disgustingly massive cocks into both of your neighboring holes. The stretch for your cunt wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, your ass on the other hand? It felt like Sukuna was trying to part the Red Sea between your ass.

“f-fuck..! haah-..” You babbled in between breaths.

“C’mon, whore ..” He grunted, trying to not sound too pushy.

You loved the small things, nicknames, special care, etc. His large arms held you in place as he eased himself all the way inward. Once he was fully adjusted, he wasted no time picking up the pace. You felt the need to help, so you fucked yourself back onto him with all your might. Even if it wasn’t much.

One of his hands found its way around your throat, slightly squeezing on it. He pulled your head back to face him as he made the pace unbearable and damn near impossible to match. You could visually see his smirk in your blurred vision, he lowered his head and planted a kiss on your lips. He didn’t let go easily.

You moaned against his mouth as he picked up the pace once again, leaving you speechless.

“Like a real slut, Hah-” Sukuna laughed, pulling away from the kiss as he looked down on you.

You felt yourself on edge already, Sukuna sensed it by the way you sped up.

“su-sukuna.. I’m-” You were cut off

“Cumming? I know, love” He giggled, still practically ramming himself into you.

Embarrassed was an understatement, were you really that easy to read? Probably not, but he knew a little too much about your sex patterns. Your orgasim washed over you in a wave of pure bliss, completely stopping yourself. But Sukuna couldn’t care less, he kept going. Not long after, he felt himself speeding up with the last bit of stamina he had.

“Fuck…” He groaned before letting a long rope into you.

Short breaths were exchanged in utter silence until he broke it.

“Round 2? Or you’re much too dumb for that?” He laughed

“Never” You giggled in return.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊🦈˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ☆⋆｡

#waterinzwork🦈 #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #:3 #jjk au #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk ryomen #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #ryomen x reader #jujutsu ryomen #silly goober #goober :3 #daddy sukuna 😍😍

[lucy90712]

Thunderstorms- Gavi

The loudest clap of thunder I think I've ever heard woke me very suddenly from what was a great dream from what I remember. Shortly after the thunder the room was lit up with multiple bolts of lightening. That's when I knew I'd be awake until the storm passed I've always been scared of storms so unless I sleep through them I spend the entire time awake usually shaking slightly. It's such an irrational fear but I can't help but be scared although I have never told anyone that I'm so scared of storms because I don't want to deal with the teasing. My parents know that I used to be scared of storms but I imagine they think I've grown out of it which I wish I had but outside of that I haven't told anyone even my boyfriend. 

Another clap of thunder made me jump while Pablo slept soundly beside me. That man can sleep through anything I swear, he's slept through fireworks literally next door, thunderstorms and everything else that would wake a normal human being. I know he won't wake up on his own but I'm definitely not going to wake him as I don't want him to laugh at me at least not right now. Instead I just tried my best to get close to him as he slept in hopes that would help me sleep as cuddling with him usually helps me sleep. I shut my eyes and tried to relax but the constant noise and light was always on my mind so I couldn't let myself relax. My hands were still shaking and I could feel my heart rate jump every time there was more thunder. I know breathing techniques are supposed to help calm you down but even those weren't settling my nerves. All I wanted to do was shut myself in a dark room where I couldn't see or hear anything but that's not possible I have to stay here and try and sleep.

Cuddling into Pablo's side didn't help me one bit so I gave up and just kept tossing and turning which made Pablo start to stir. I stopped moving in hopes that he'd just go back to sleep but he kept stirring until his eyes opened. Some more thunder came and I tried so hard not to move or make a noise but the longer it went on and the louder it got I couldn't stop myself making a small noise out of fear. That definitely gave away that I wasn't sleeping as I felt Pablo turn over in bed and his arm touched my waist. 

"It's ok I've got you" he whispered in my ear as he pulled me into his chest 

"I'm fine" I said trying to convince myself more than him 

"You don't have to pretend baby I know you're scared but I'm right here to keep you safe" he said 

"How did you know?" I asked

"I see the way you always tense up when there's a storm and I could see you shaking" he said 

"But you've never made fun of me it's such a stupid fear if you knew why did you never tease me about it" I questioned 

"Why would I make fun of you it's not a stupid fear and even if it was there's no way I'd make fun of you I just want to make you feel better you could be scared of apples and I'd still do everything I can to protect you so thats what I'm going to do so remember if you are scared just tell me I'll be there for you like you are for me" he said 

"Thank you but apples really" I laughed 

"That's just the first thing that came to mind but you get the point" he smiled 

He decided to keep listing random things I could be scared off that he wouldn't make fun of me for while stroking my hair and back to relax me. This list got more and more ridiculous until he said that if I was scared of footballs we would have a problem but he'd still find a way to love me which made me laugh. I think his aim was to distract me and it was working as just listening to him talk as he rubbed my back was making me feel tired again. 

Just as I was starting to fall sleep some more thunder made me jump so Pablo came up with a new idea every time there was thunder or lightning he pressed a soft kiss to either my hair or my forehead. He kept talking and giving me kisses until I was struggling to keep my eyes open and I gave in and let sleep consume me. Being able to fall asleep during a storm is a big thing for me but it's only because Pablo is by my side. Him knowing about my fear is actually a huge weight off my shoulders especially knowing he won't tease me for it being able to turn to turn to him when I'm scared will really help me. 

#gavi x reader #gavi imagine #gavi imagines #pablo gavi imagine #pablo gavi imagines #gavi #football imagine

[translatemunson]

these days I'm restless, work days are endless • ttfd

chapter three of the tortured firefighters department

previous chapter | masterlist | next chapter

cw: fem!reader, afab!reader, no descriptions of reader, banter (because i love it), reader is a math and science nerd, chris and eddie are here, mentions of food, hints of mental issues, proofread by my bye-lingual ass (let me know if i forgot anything)

LA was less of a stranger now. Who knew going to that dinner at Maddie’s would slowly bring you closer to the 118 family.

Late night texts with Maddie to make her company while Chimney worked and Jee was nowhere close to sleep were standard. Night shifts were smooth as butter if compared to day shifts in any state, you found out. LA of course had more hits and runs, overdose emergencies, abuse situations, but you could type their info while waiting for your personal laptop to run the latest dynamical system you were analyzing. 

And now your agenda also included occasional brownie deliveries to the 118 and leftover food pickup you were sure Bobby wasn’t cooking as an accident; a few talks with Athena, Bobby’s wife, about how they could improve response time inside the LAPD with a small system you developed for your old local police; helping Chris over Facetime with his math homework — because Eddie called you one day looking like he just had the worst day of his life, but he couldn’t just understand the process to the results of a simple equation.

It was nice to finally have a life besides PhD and work routine. But that would always be brought up or come in handy for helping.

That’s how you ended up at Eddie’s place on a saturday morning. When he texted you that Chris needed extra help with a math syllabus — that could bring him some extra points that semester —, you jumped on your car and said would gladly help.

“How is it going, kiddo?” Eddie entered the dining room and checked Chris' progress.

“She’s really a genius!”

“And you are the most dedicated student I had.” And you weren’t saying that just to make him feel special. Chris was one of those kids that really put in the effort and dedication to understand things — when they wanted to, of course —, it wasn’t his fault the math problems were too complex for his age. Maybe you could talk to Eddie about it, so he could let the teachers know that maybe taking it easy with the kids was a good idea. They didn’t need to also be traumatized by mathematics. “C’mon, you’re crushing those equations, Chris!”

“Do you need a refill?” Eddie pointed to your empty lemonade cup.

“Yes, please.”

“Can you help me with science?” Chris asked, now that he was almost done with his math exercises.

“Not my forte, but I’ll try.”

In another universe, you would’ve stopped your studies once you had the basic requirements for being a teacher — maybe middle or secondary school. You’d always loved classrooms, and it was the safest option if your Masters ended up on a dead end. You were glad to be where you were, but your mind sometimes wondered the ‘what if’s of being a school teacher.

Chris brought his science homework, luckily just some questions about animals that, because of all of your free hours in museums and science classes you took for extra credits during college, were easy to deal with. Once you talked about seeing the dinosaur bones in real life, he was mesmerized, avoiding blinking at all costs just so he couldn’t miss a single detail.

“Dad! She saw the dinosaur!” He almost screamed when you pulled out your phone to show him some pictures.

The doorbell hung as soon as Eddie entered the dining room. “Be right back, buddy! Don’t give him any more ideas, Brains!”

“Won’t promise anything.” I took you one heartbeat to cover your mouth and whisper, “I will check if there is any dinosaur in town and take you there for a visit. What do you think?”

“That’s awesome,” he whispered back.

“But for now this is a secret, ok?”

“Ok. Pinky swear?”

“Of course, kiddo.” 

Chris got up to pick his books about dinosaurs. Your mind started to list all the museums in LA and how many of them had really good replicas of them — or the real ones, if possible. Maybe you could get the tickets for Chris and Eddie and tag along as their tour guide. Or maybe you could check with Eddie if he needed a babysitter someday in the following weeks, so you could help and also fulfill your promise at the same time.

“Buck!” Chris screamed.

You turned around just in time to see Buck taking him off the floor with a bear type huge and messing with his hair. “My guy! What are you up to today?”

“I’m studying dinosaurs.” He showed the books in his hands.

“On a Saturday morning? Where’s the fun? How about video games?”

“Are you done with your science homework?” Eddie asked, closing the door.

“Yes! Brains helped me!”

As your nickname has been brought up to the conversation, Buck finally noticed you. You heard Maddie saying, countless times, that Buck had a soft spot for kids. But had a huge spot for Chris, with all his heart. After the tsunami — you’ve only heard about it, still not in California to experience the disaster first hand —, their bond only grew even stronger.

“Oh did she?” He smirked.

“Yes. She even promised me she will take me to see the dinosaurs.”

“Chris! I thought you would honor our pinky swear!” you shouted playfully.

“Ouch! Someone call 9-1-1, I’ve been betrayed.” Buck faked having a knife to his chest, and pulling it out.

You pretended to have your earpiece on and changed your voice until it sounded like you were in your job, saying “Sir, calling 9-1-1 without being in real danger is considered a felony, and the authorities will investigate you. Hope you look good in orange pajamas.”

Eddie rolled his eyes and Chris laughed. Buck was definitely not impressed, and he took Chris with him to play some video games. You busied yourself with organizing Chris’ books over the table and checking his equations one last time. You took your lemonade glass to the kitchen, intending to wash it before going home for some deep cleaning.

“Just leave it there, I’ll take care of it,” Eddie entered the room and opened the cookie jar. “Are you serious about taking him to the museum?”

“I was gonna talk to you about it later. Maybe? Only if you’re ok with it, of course. I can take him on my day off, get him some pancakes from my favorite restaurant, bring him back by the end of the day, safe and sound. Or you could tag along, I can pretend I’m a VIP tour guide, I might be able to pull some strings at the Caltech museum, they don’t have real dinosaurs, but their exhibition on life on Earth is really good. It’s not much, but they have a few things about dinosaurs.”

“Does next Saturday work for you? I might need to take an extra 12-hour shift.”

“Sure! The Natural History Museum will do the job just fine. I’ll pick him up and don’t worry, we can stay at mine until your shift ends. Anything works for me, really.”

“Great.” He noticed how you held your bag and checked the door from time to time. “In a hurry?”

“I think my job here is done,” you pointed to the two kids playing and screaming over some stupid video game. 

Lately, you’ve been avoiding Buck like the plague. He was just so annoying towards you every time you met and it was getting on your nerves. Your small encounters when you were at the firestation to drop off some baked goods, or when you went to visit Maddie and he was just leaving the place, were messing with your thoughts. 

It was easier to give him the cold shoulder and keep your distance than sitting in a quiet room with your mixed feelings about the younger Buckley.

“Thank you again, Brains.”

“No worries, happy I could help.”

“You sure I can’t convince you to stay a little more and grab some lunch with us?”

“I really don’t wanna disturb the vibes, you know.”

“You know you are practically family, right? Catching lunch with us on slow days, having some beers, teaching math to the kids.”

“Yeah, but I just… Maybe another time, ok? I promise.”

“You have to stop acting like you’re always on the run, Brains. Someday you’re gonna run out of breath.”

“I appreciate the advice, Eddie. Text you soon?”

“He’s gonna freak out when I tell him about your plans.”

You left the house unnoticed. Before hopping on your car and driving to your favorite grocery store, you checked your messages, hoping to clear your agenda for next saturday — pretty sure you had a night shift on friday, but with enough caffeine, you could pull an all-nighter. Not ideal, but it was your plan B.

“Hey! Brains!”

“Tired of getting your ass kicked by a younger boy?” You were still too busy with your phone to raise your eyes to Buck.

“Why are you almost running to get out of here? Schedule’s too packed?”

“None of your business.” You opened the door of your car and threw your bag inside.

“Oh so you are still mad at me for eating the cupcakes!” Oh yeah, the cupcake incident. That was one of the reasons why you weren’t staying more than one minute alone with Evan Buckley.

“What did you expect me to do? I bought them for me and Maddie, and you thought it was ok to eat them all. Alone!” You faced him, your chin up high. “You have no fucking clue how long I waited in line before the store opened that day, I had a really messed up shift and I needed those!”

“I told you I’d get more cupcakes!”

“No! I wanted my favorites! Your sister wanted those specific ones, she kept mentioning them for days! And you ruined it!” You held the door open, hoping you could leave the place quickly.

“I’ve told you I’m sorry, ok? What else do you want me to do, hm?”

“How about getting out of my hair? Leave me alone, Buckley. I mean it. I was starting to grow fond of the 118, but you are making it impossible to enjoy some time with any of them!”

“I was there first!” Buck was much stronger than you, and he successfully closed the door. He wanted another fight.

“Great. Text me your schedule so I can avoid being in the same room with you.” You tried to push his arm out of the door.

“Now you’re just being dramatic! C’mon, Brains, it was just some stupid cupcakes, I got Maddie some of her favorite cake after you stormed out of the apartment. I texted you I was sorry a dozen times.”

“Maybe you should start asking before eating something that isn’t yours.”

“I don’t know what happened to you lately, but it’s unbelievable you’re holding the grudge for so long. Brains, really, I’m sorry I ruined your plans with my sister. Can we act as adults now?”

“Who are you to tell me ‘Let’s be adults’ now? You ruined the only free time I had with Maddie that week. And you know what? I had a shitty shift with some really bad calls that day, but, unlike you, I don’t go on messing with things that don’t belong to me.”

Your real name slipped from his lips and you knew it was time to leave. You took the chance to open the door and throw yourself into the seat.

“I’m tired, Evan. I really am. Give me some space, I’m still recovering from that shift. You could’ve bought us all the cupcakes in the world that day, and I’d still be mad at you.” You started the car. “I need to go home.”

“I’m gonna find out why you’re still mad at me after one million sorry’s!”

“I wouldn’t waste any more breath. But you know what, good luck.”

As much as you hated it, Eddie was right. You were running away. And you just didn’t want to admit who was from.

author's note: and she’s back for chapter three!!!! you all were a little shy on chapter 2, but ok, i’ll forgive you. there is a small blurb coming up this weekend, so stay tuned. also, you can request blurbs from the tortured firefighters department or just talk about it via my asks!!! also i’m almost done with 9-1-1 lone star and i may or may not be working on a crossover in the near future hihihi kay love you see y’all next week byeeeeeee (actually this sunday ok byeeeee)

#evan buckley fanfic #evan buckley #evan buckley x reader #evan buckley x you #9 1 1 abc #9 1 1 fanfiction #evan buck buckely #buck fanfiction #evan buckley imagine #effie writes

[mister-eames]

darling, you have to give me more flesh on the scenario “what if arthur went to mombasa aka cobols backyard to fetch eames on doms request” would inception still have happened? or would end credits roll immediately? You can’t dangle that scenario infront of me like a carrot infront of a horse and say nothing :(

I love this question!! <3 I could write a whole novel on the possible canon-divergence, aha, sorry this took me a to minute to reply x I imagine it went something like this:

Above the din of the gambling house Eames suddenly notices two things at once.

One, the sharp scents of Davidoff Cool Water and nicotine.

The other is the barrel of a gun pressed in-between his shoulder blades.

Between his restless fingers the chips stop moving before resuming again. Saying nothing, Eames places the chips on the unluckiest number he can think of - if the person behind him is who Eames thinks it is, not a single sliver of luck can be wasted on something as frivolous as a dice game.

"Now, now," says Eames, sitting up straighter until the gun digs into his back. "Is that a firearm or are you just happy to see me? Goodness. You could at least buy me a drink first."

The dice roll on the table. Eames has lost. He wears his best look of disappointment as the dealer collects his chips, fewer than before, but still enough to cash in on. Currency comes in all shapes and forms and, hearing the tap of Arthur's loafers behind him as he's followed to the cash exchange, Eames very much get's the sense he'll need every last iteration of currency to bargain with.

"That's an interesting way of spelling Mombasa," Arthur says somewhere over his shoulder.

After all, Arthur is a man who plays to win.

---

"So," Eames deshells a pistachio and pops it in his mouth, "to what do I owe the pleasure of your company, dear Arthur?"

On the other side of the table sits Arthur, composed of long lines, angular limbs and dark fabrics, hair slicked back so perfectly it can only be a product of industrial-strength pomade and Arthur's sheer will. A pair of wayfarers are perched upon his nose, an old pair. His face is angled to the view outside beyond the terrace.

The nail of Arthur's right thumb, bitten short, digs into the side of his beer bottle.

"I'm here to offer you a job."

"That so?" Eames pries open another another pistachio, leaning back in his chair. "Tell me, was the gun to my back part of your offer?"

"Had to make sure you wouldn't run."

"What makes you think I still won't?"

"You won't," Arthur says confidently. "Not when you hear what I'm selling."

"And why would I buy anything from you," Eames asks, following Arthur's line of sight to the people milling in the market below, "when I could simply cash in on the price on your head?"

The challenge hangs in the air, suspended, awaiting Arthur's repartee. Instead, Arthur sighs, finally sliding the frames off his face, slipping them into his breast pocket. His expression turns pinched. "You won't," he repeats. He sounds less sure.

"I might."

"You would've done it already."

There it is. Eames shifts in his seat, throwing an arm around the back of it. "How'd you end up pissing off Cobol Engineering, hmm? Let me guess."

"How'd you know about that?"

"How did you know where to find me?"

"Inception," Arthur says suddenly.

"...Pardon?"

"The job," Arthur clarifies, a little uncomfortably. "Our client is asking for inception."

Eames stares at him.

Under the weight of Eames' gaze Arthur seems pressed to project nonchalance, sitting up straighter in his chair, re-adjusting his legs until they mirror Eames' outstretched ones. Eames knows him better. He's already catalogued all of the little things that are different with Arthur since they last crossed paths - some for the better - a nicer suit, longer hair. Some for the worse. Tired lines. A tie tied too tightly, begging to be made crooked. Bitten nails.

The problem with Arthur is that Arthur cares so much that it's written all over him.

"You do recall what happened the last time we attempted inception, yes? How horribly we failed at it."

"Yep."

"And you recall telling me from the get-go to the get-gone that it wasn't possible?"

Arthur shakes his head. "Doesn't matter. You still think it can be done."

"You don't," says Eames, confused. "Which leads us to the inevitable question of why you, Arthur, are here, risking your head to ask me onto what you in your mind consider to be a fruitless endeavour."

"Cobb wants you on the job. You'll get paid."

"Try again."

The exhale that escapes Arthur's nostrils seem to deflate him a little. The too-short nails stop digging into his bottle as the hand retreats to his lap. "If we're to succeed, the client will secure Cobb's return to the states."

"In shackles, I hope."

He shakes his head. "To his kids."

"I'm still failing to see what I get out it."

When it's clear that he won't capitulate, Arthur sighs. "What do you want?"

To never be in the same room as Dominic Cobb ever again. To wind back the clock three years. To live out his retirement in peace.

"Something priceless," he says instead.

"The opportunity to achieve inception isn't priceless enough?"

"No."

Going quiet, Arthur appears to think on this. "This is the last job," he says after a moment. "No more. He'll either go home or go to prison."

He says it like it's fifty-fifty; luck; the toss of a coin. Eames considers this, wondering uneasily if he is the element that will give weight to one of the coins sides - which yet, he isn't quite sure. Which Eames wants, he knows even less.

"And you'll be a free man."

"Yes."

"And what are you planning to do with yourself after?"

"That," Arthur raises his chin, meeting his gaze, "I will let you decide."

Lightning crackles up Eames spine.

"...That is priceless, indeed."

"Yeah," Arthur smirks. "So, what do you say?"

Eames writes down an address on a napkin. He slides it over and stands.

"Meet me here in an hour. I know of a chemist that might be useful."

Arthur blinks down at the napkin. "Why? Where are you going?"

Eames tilts his head towards the bar where a middle-aged suit sits, eyes flicking towards their table.

"Giving you a chance to shake your tail."

Arthur looks over to the bar and swears under his breath. "Does this mean you're taking the job?"

"Depends on whether our friend over there shoots first. Go on."

"Wait," Arthur says, placing a hand on Eames' arm. He raises an inviting eyebrow, eyes brightening brilliantly. "I've got a better idea."

---

Twenty minutes later emerge from a narrow alley with a matching pair of bruised, bloody knuckles, an unconscious body slumped in the shadows of the alley.

Eames grins at Arthur, who is already smiling wide at him.

Something in Eames' chest is in freefall, starting from his throat, right down to his sternum. The same thing that always robs him of any good reason when it comes to Arthur - the one that hits the reset button in his doldrums, like pulling the lever at a poker machine and says come on, try again, hoping that he might make dividends this time. A horrible lack of certainty; a wonderful, frightening unfurling of possibilities and hope.

Arthur's shirt is crumpled to hell; dirt and dust mar the cuffs of his suit jacket, the shine of his loafers. He places his wayfarers back onto his face and Eames thinks hello again. Hello Arthur, the man who is both nineteen and twenty-nine in Eames' mind, who has kept the same sunglasses from five years ago and wears Davidoff Cool Water because it was what he wore when he needed something cheap and accessible and never quite grew out of it, even when he has the means to afford 'better'. A creature of habit - and sentiment.

"Cobb wanted to come to ask you," Arthur says, tone light, shoving his bloody hands in his pockets as they rejoin the greater crowd, sides brushing as they close in to avoid getting separated.

"Thank christ he didn't."

Arthur hums agreeably at the sentiment. "What would you have said, if he had?"

Eames shakes his head, not even needing to think about it. "I'd tell'im to piss off. Probably had sold him out before he touched soil."

"Come on. You would not have."

"Would've. There is not a single thing in Cobb's coin-purse that would sway me to sign up for this," he insists.

Arthur rolls his eyes, squeezing past Eames to get through a narrow opening in the crowd. Eames follows closely, eyes trained on the back of him.

Well... maybe one thing.

He'll take the job. And after that... Eames has some ideas already.

#inception #arthur x eames #im so sorry this took me a few days but it gave me such food for thought!!!! #i'd love to know your thoughts as well #i hope you're doing well my dear <3

[nerdyloverparadise]

IM DONE STARVING YOU GUYS!!

Pt.3 of Chuuya Fanfiction/Headcanons.

2.2k Words

Disclaimer: This is basically like a fanfiction to the Headcanons. Explaining the course of which the reader and Chuuya "nurtured" their relationship. This is only the first part of the story because I didn't want to continue starving the people for so long so please enjoy it. This scene was recommended by someone also to include so I did my best. It contains the following things: groping, harassment (not from Chuuya!), choking, cursing, unspoken tension. ENJOY!!

Months went by of working in the Port Mafia together and upon analyzing how well Chuuya mentored you, Mori decided to partner you both often on missions. Oftentimes it was you, Chuuya, and one other person who was a strategist. The partner hated tagging along due to you and Chuuyas banter but it's just a regular occurrence at this point.

JEALOUSY

Now that we’ve set the groundwork… How did you two end up falling for each other? It all started when Mori assigned you both to a mission—one that would reveal just how jealous Chuuya could be when someone else laid hands on you.

The mission involved seducing a big-shot gambler to draw him away from his table long enough for Chuuya to search his belongings and determine if he needed to be eliminated. The man might be innocent, but Mori’s philosophy was always better safe than sorry.

Mori: I have a task for both of you.

Chuuya and You: What is it?

Mori: This man might be in cahoots with a well-known gang around Yokohama. I need you to locate him and search him for any leads.

-

Chuuya: I could handle this by myself.

“As if, you always need me.” You nudge Chuuya’s shoulder, and he immediately wants to toss you out the window.

Chuuya: I do not NEED you!

You: Yeah, right. You need me like you need your next breath.

For some reason, this line struck a nerve with Chuuya. Not because it angered him, but because it sparked a twinge of desire. He enjoyed bantering with you, realizing that his days without you were a blur compared to the ones you spent together on missions. He grits his teeth and clenches his fists, his cheeks growing red as his breathing becomes shallow and jagged. Mori, of course, notices Chuuya's sudden silence, his hand raking through his hair to appear casual while his face flushes crimson.

Mori: I have an idea, Y/N. You’ll play an imperative role in this mission. I need you to seduce the gambler. It's a quick and easy way to ensure our success.

You: Alright, that's fine. Nothing difficult.

Chuuya’s eyes widen as he processes what Mori just said. Seduce? Seduce??

Mori: Unless… our fiery friend here has a problem with that. Huh, Chuuya?

Chuuya: Problem? No, there's no problem. Why would I have a problem, Boss?

Mori: Judging by the redness of your face, the sudden lack of aggression, and the sweaty palms… I just wanted to ensure you’d be okay with her seducing another man.

Chuuya didn’t quite know what he was feeling, so he vehemently rejected the suggestion.

Chuuya: What the… groans Let’s just find the guy, Y/N.

He's dragging you by the arm out of Mori’s office, his hat over his face to hide his flushed expression. He doesn't speak for a while, walking straight out of the PM with you stumbling behind, struggling to match his long strides. He must be really bugged by something; you didn’t know he could walk that fast.

Later, you both enter the casino, greeted by flashing lights and bustling aisles. Addicts play their hearts out, sending their money spiraling down the drain. You walk in front of Chuuya, your hips swaying fluidly with each step. Something clicks in Chuuya's head—his eyes are glued to the sleek motion of your backside instead of his surroundings. Shit… Why the hell am I so entranced by this? They've always worn this, what’s different today?

You’ve put on something more form-fitting for the mission, a little more business casual but not completely safe for work. Your curves are hugged in all the right places, and he can’t tear his eyes away. How your legs are so nice, toned, and thick, just like…

You continue to scan the area, and Chuuya makes his way to your side. “See anything, brat?”

“No, not yet, Chuus.”

“Chuus? Seriously, you're such a loser.”

“It’s just a nickname, don’t be a dick about it.”

As you both move through the casino, you spot a big, burly man at a table with a group of alcohol-reeking guys. He’s holding a deck of playing cards, spinning one on his fingertips. His chest hair peeks out over his half-buttoned shirt. Not only does he look like a big-shot gambler, but he also has a suspicious duffle bag under his chair.

Chuuya, that’s definitely our guy.” Before Chuuya can react, you’re already walking over and asking to sit on the man's lap. All part of the mission. Chuuya lingers in the distance, but his eyes are locked on you both. Watching as your hands grace the man's chest, seducing him into letting you sit in his lap. Your fingers trail down his neck, and you whisper compliments into his ear with your lips brushing the lobe as you speak. The man looks at you like you’re the hottest thing on earth, cards damn near spilling out of his hands as his friends watch in awe, and Chuuya is clenching his fist, trying to ignore the heat rising in his cheeks.

“I fuckin’ hate that brat. No way.”

The man's rough hands wrap around your arm and pull you onto his lap. He adjusts in his chair a little before continuing his game. Throughout the entirety of it, you can feel his pants tightening underneath you, the groin area of it pushing against the swell of your ass. You use it to your advantage and grind down into him causing his breath to hitch.

“Ya like that?” You whisper into his ear, catching a glimpse of Chuuya out of the corner of your eye. He looks fine.

“Don't start sumthin ya can't finish, sweetheart…” He responds, his voice husky and smooth, like how a villain would sound. A large hand comes down to rest on your thigh, pulsing between light squeezes and ones with more pressure.

Chuuya’s eyes are piercing your skin like bullets now. It feels like his clothing is tightening on his body, leaching to his flesh as it collects sweat. His eyes are glued to the hand on your thigh, his mind wandering as he watches it ripple with each touch. Anyone who was watching him right now would see him unballing his fist and latching his hand onto his own thigh, squeezing it tightly in his hand in tandem with what he was seeing. Suddenly the burly man stands up with you still in his arms, his big thighs scooting the chair back for him. You look no less than cocky with a big grin on your face. The man has you in his arms bridally, your upper body reclining against the crook of his arm, head suspended in the air, and hair cascading downward under the pull of gravity.

“Got sumn to take care of now, boys. I’ll catch ya later.” He steps out from between the chair and the poker table, leaving the duffle bag under his chair as planned. This was supposed to be Chuuya’s cue to collect it, to search the contents for anything suspicious, but his feet felt cemented in place by the weight of his envy. Why? They were always at each other's throats, so why the sudden concern? Not even he could answer that, but the pool of warmth forming in his pelvis could. He eventually snaps out of it when he sees your arm waving frantically, echoing the look on your face as you mouth, “Chuuya, grab the bag!” The man rounds the corner, disappearing along with his muscular frame and you in his arms.

You barely had half a second to scrutinize Chuuya's face, and all you could see was pure aggravation. That's the only detail you could fixate on as you were whisked away to the casino's backrooms. Then, Mori’s words echoed in your ears, emphasizing the flush on Chuuya's face when you mentioned how indispensable you were to him—like his next breath. Were you truly that indispensable? It was meant to be a joke, but Chuuya's intense scrutiny of the man's hands as they cradled your thigh with a fervor that mirrored his gaze during heated confrontations left you questioning. That same blazing passion, usually only unmasked when you were at intense odds, was being applied to this situation too. The realization dawned on you with startling clarity---was he starting to feel something for you?

Chuuya darts over to the table, his mouth deduced to a thin line, masking any trace of emotion. The men at the table didn't pay too much mind to the bag being stolen so it was simple enough. He tucks himself away into a corner and starts to search the bag. There was money, obviously stolen, artifacts, and documents of certain government information which was supposed to stay under lock and key. “Yeah… we definitely got our guy. Great for me, I'm itching ta-” His remarks were cut short by a throaty scream. “Get the hell off of me!”

Chuuya knew that yell like the back of his hand, he'd encountered it time and time again back at headquarters when he was screwing around. He dropped the items that were inside of the duffle and looked up, his eyes skimming to the side slightly as if the sound were right next to him. “Whattt? Thought ya liked me, sweetheart?” He was damn near ready to hurl at the commotion. He knew exactly what was going on but his body was frozen momentarily, his mouth slightly ajar as he crushed the handle of the bag in his hands. “Pretty collar ya got there. Let me show you a good time, little doll.” A smug grin plastered on his face from ear to ear. “Come on, you were damn near riding my thigh earlier, I know you're just ready for me down there, yeah?” His lips were grazing your ear as he spoke, his breath hot and rank with liquor. Your little frame was smashed into the wall by his hunky one and he wasn't relenting, not even when you started to sweat and squirm, a look of terror in your eyes that didn't betray the fear shooting through your body.

It was almost as if Chuuya could hear the leather of the choker burning into your skin as that man's hand came down on it tightly. The slight squeak and scrunch it made against your flesh as your chin flew up into the air, throat straining for oxygen it wasn't receiving. His rough hands were unyielding, merciless, as they pushed your back flush against the wall. Your head was thumping now, blood running through it like a riptide as it bumped the wall several times, but you couldn't blow your cover, not even when his hands started to wiggle their way down in between your bodies, trailing down your stomach like eerily soft trickles of rain.

“Nngh.. Ah-hach! CHUUYA--Goddamit! TODAY PLEASE!” The voices were very faint but Chuuya could hear them perfectly clear. His knees steadied as he got up from his squat quickly, using his gravity manipulation to make himself a bit lighter as he darted to the corner he'd seetn you get whirled around earlier. His body seemed to take initiative before his brain did. What was happening to you hadn't even had time to register properly before he was already halfway to where you resided chaotically.

You were starting to gasp for air as the man's hand tightened around your neck firmly. Coughs littering the air around you.

“Who’s Chuuya, hm? Some twink, sweetheart? Doesn't matter, no one's saving ya.”

“He'll kick your-!”

“Ah… watch your mouth, doll. You put yourself in this situation and now… I'm gonna get my fix outta you.”

His hands seemed to pulse, allowing you enough air to keep your vision from going out. It felt like he was about to break the choker you received from Chuuya and that made a wave of anxiety shoot through you. A pit of uneasiness settling right above your pelvis. Your feet were starting to lift from the floor slightly, onto the tips of your toes. Your teeth clenched together in a desperate attempt to wiggle free ever so slightly.

“How would your mother feel if she knew this was how you handled women?” A familiar raspy voice echoes from around the corner, followed by a blaze of orange and red light. His glare was deadly, barely any time had passed before he had the man crushed up against the wall, feet off the ground with drool dribbling down his chin. 'And just so were clear, I aint a twink.’

You’re watching the whole display from the ground, having fallen to the ground when the man released you, hacking and coughing for air while Chuuya handled the rest. When he’d apprehended the guy and freed you, he scowled at you with an intensity that rivaled a full on reprimand. His eyes were darkened and narrow, his lips stretched in a straight line. It’s like you could hear his thoughts, even in this half of a second. It wasn’t a normal seething rage, it was fueled by something deeper. Something so strong that his eyes seemed to talk on their own, like an “ill handle you later” type of glare.

#bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd chuya #bsd chuuya #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs headcanons #bungou stray dogs chuuya #chuuya nakahara #fanfiction #chuuya x reader #chuya x you #chuuya fanfic #fanfic

[rotzaprachim]

like I keep thinking about my very well connected friend who is involved in local indigenous groups but also has recently become involved in israel/Palestine things largely as learned from TikTok. She clearly both wants to do well for the local Jewish community but stands fully with a Palestinian cause she sees as totally connected to the local indigenous causes. in her view of Israelis as colonizers she doesn’t want them to leave Palestine in her vision of a one state solution, but she told me it was like local indigenous land back, where no one actually wants non indigenous people to leave with decolonization, before Zionism everyone lived in peace in the Middle East, and I had to be like, no they didn’t. And she’d never heard of the exile of mizrachim from the Arab world, ever, in her social media university. Like the fact Jews ever had citizenship taken from them or were expelled, she hadn’t heard of, and after she I think was trying to be accepting and empathetic later said that it was a problem Europe wasn’t nicer to the jews or just sent them to Palestine after ww2. And I was like yeah they didn’t let them. There were DP camps. But should people have been forced to go back to the neighborhoods of the neighbors who murdered them and their families? I don’t know if either fact has sunk in and I think she feels bothered I’m making her think these things when there’s a genocide going, but did she ask for it when she wanted to be an expert on i/p?

I thought she’d taken the issue to heart but she keeps making new posters where she calls Hamas “resistance fighters” and says she’s providing up to date information on everything you need to know (how our local place has connections to Palestine because they’ve both been colonised) which completely ignore the fact that Hamas killed civilians and instead just implies they attacked idf soldiers. When I talked to her about it I thought she’d be open to discussion but instead she keeps saying “I know there’s some things we disagree on but I value your opinion” which I’ve now come to realise is politician speak “get fucked” although maybe it’s not and I’m reading too much into it.

But I don’t know where the line between being emotionally fragile and not letting myself take disrespect is. I genuinely don’t.

And I know she distrusts aspects of the local Jewish community for meeting in a space provided by a high profile non-local wealthy many who she thinks is taking indigenous land. And he is. And I’m uncomfortable going to his space. But another Jewish center got bomb threats, and our local and very pro Palestine government, which she is a part of, asked us to go there specifically because it’s higher security and the local police can more easily guard it. So are we not supposed to go to the place a Jewish billionaire provided? What the fuck should we do? I think she thinks of the Jews as taking something that’s hers; I think they are taking something that’s hers, I don’t think there’s another option that will allow continuation of local Jewish life. I also don’t think she understands the severity of danger rural Jewish life faces and thinks we’re just like Christians who could just build something else and go to another church. Some of the Jews are long term established locals and others are multimillionaires here in vacation. Which of us get to stay and which don’t? Should we all just leave?

am i a just a bothered settler talking over an indigenous person or is she someone from a culturally christian background talking over a jew? how can two well meaning and fairly well connected people arrive here?

[vhsgoghs]

sleeping problems (Valeria Garza one shot)

Valeria Garza x female reader

Summary: Valeria wakes up during the night and finds that her girlfriend can't sleep. note: English isn't my first language but i have done my best, sorry for any mistakes.

★ masterlist here

It was 3 in the morning when Valeria woke up, she rubbed her eyes and headed to the kitchen to drink some water. She was still quite sleepy, barely noticing where she was walking, and the darkness of the place didn't help much.

There was a small light in the kitchen that her girlfriend always left on before going to sleep. It wasn't enough to illuminate the kitchen completely, but it was enough for her to take a glass and pour herself some water.

There was nothing but the silence of the night and the light clink of the crystal glass. Until a voice emerged from the darkness.

"Couldn't you sleep either?"

The glass slipped from her hands, crashing against the sink and spilling the little liquid that was left, luckily it didn't break.

"Puta madre, (Y/N)!" Valeria gasped in surprise.

She turned to find a small silhouette barely visible in the gloom. Her girlfriend was sitting in one of the seats at the bar, she could barely notice a glass in front of her, she had her elbows resting on the bar, but nothing else was visible.

"I'm sorry, I didn't want to scare you," the girl said with a grimace. She got up from her seat and took the few steps that separated her from her girlfriend.

(Y/N) surrounded her with her arms and Valeria soon did the same. The height difference wasn't much, but Valeria was a little taller, especially when she wore those horrible boots that she hated, she said it added too many extra inches to her and made her feel even smaller.

"I thought you were in bed."

"I couldn't sleep," she murmured, avoiding mentioning that she hadn't been able to sleep well for weeks, always waking up at the same time every night.

"And what was that lump on the bed?"

"My favorite stuffed animal and a pillow, maybe." The girl giggled. It hadn't been her intention to leave both things under the covers like that, but apparently it had given the impression that she was still there.

"What happen?" Valeria removed some strands of hair from the girl's face, she just sighed and laid her head on her shoulder.

It could be Valeria's natural smell, mixed with the shampoo she always used when showering at night before going to sleep, but something had made her feel more relaxed, causing her to close her eyes for a few seconds, as if she were trying to record that moment in her mind.

She had learned to appreciate every moment with her. She was afraid that one day the phone would ring and would realize that she would never see her girlfriend again.

"About what?" she asked, not understanding what she was referring to.

"Why you can not sleep?"

"I don't know," she answered without hesitation.

She was not lying. In reality, she didn't have the slightest idea why she had started waking up during the night or she just couldn't sleep, despite being completely exhausted when she got ready to sleep.

"Do you want me to help you sleep again?" Valeria murmured. Her lips brushed the skin of her shoulder and there was a suggestive tone in her voice that made the youngest smile.

"It's only been a couple of hours, do you still have the strength for another round?"

"Well, that's the good thing about being with a girl," she joked.

(Y/N) didn't know if it was true, but she couldn't help but let out a little giggle. She had discovered that was interested in girls at an early age, when she entered high school, was a girl who first caught her attention, but Valeria had been her first real relationship or at least her first serious relationship. She had never been with a boy and she had never wanted to, and now even less than ever.

"No, I'm fine, let's go to bed."

Valeria nodded. She felt how her girlfriend intertwined her fingers and gently pulled her to start walking next to her.

The silence of the house seemed suffocating, they couldn't even hear the sound of their footsteps because none of them were wearing shoes. (Y/N) looked around her when they entered the room, looking for their little pet, she had insisted on having a foster child in their relationship when they moved in together, and although she preferred a dog, Valeria was a cat person.

Shortly after, a black fur kitten that was up for adoption came into their life. Valeria had named her Neblina. She used to leave the house at night, but would return about an hour later. (Y/N) hated that, she said something bad could happen to her.

Valeria wrapped her arms around her waist when she noticed that she was starting to worry about Neblina again, gently pushing her towards the bed and causing them both to fall, (Y/N) let out a whimper and stirred gently in her girlfriend's arms.

"Stop worrying," she murmured, knowing perfectly well what was going through her head.

"If something happens to our daughter, it's your fault." She frowned a little, she didn't sound upset, just a little worried. She had that fake tone of voice when she wanted to pretend that was reproaching something, but she found it very difficult to get angry with Valeria.

The words "our daughter" coming out of her mouth managed to stir something in her stomach.

"Nothing will happen to her, you know that she always comes back an hour later." Valeria left a kiss on her forehead and felt how she relaxed in her arms.

Several seconds passed in silence, until they both decided it was time to get back under the covers. Valeria always slept on the left side of the bed and (Y/N) on the right, it was something unconscious that they had started doing when they started sharing the same bed.

"Go back to sleep," (Y/N) whispered. Valeria looked at her for a few seconds before she turning back around.

Valeria frowned, confused, she didn't seem angry or like she didn't want to talk to her, it seemed more like she felt guilty for waking her up, even if it wasn't her fault. It had been Valeria herself who got up to drink some water.

(Y/N) felt arms surround her again and, seconds later, her girlfriend's breath hit her cheek. Valeria placed a soft kiss on her skin and although she couldn't see her, she could feel her shake her head.

She wasn't going to fall asleep if her girlfriend's head was full of thoughts and she couldn't sleep. It seemed… selfish to her. Maybe it wasn't the right word, but Valeria had always cared about her, if she had a problem, she always looked for a way to help her and not being able to sleep seemed like a big problem.

"I won't go to sleep if you're still awake." (Y/N) sighed. She hated when Valeria did that. In reality, she didn't hate it, but she felt guilty. "Tell me about your day."

(Y/N) sighed, trying to review her day. She had once told Valeria that her therapist said that one way to fall asleep was to talk about things that had happened to her or plans she had in mind for the near future.

She had laughed, it sounded stupid and it was the first time she had heard a therapist say that, but surprisingly, it had worked more than once. Her mind became distracted, she stopped overthinking those things that kept her awake, and eventually she fell asleep.

She couldn't believe Valeria still remembered that.

"I ate a salad," she started to say, but immediately stopped when heard her girlfriend laugh. "What?" She asked annoyed.

"Salad? Again?"

(Y/N) rolled her eyes. Valeria always made fun of her when she ate salad, not because it bothered her, but because, strangely, she always ate the same thing and it was always exactly the same salad. It's not that she starved herself, actually, it was one of those salads that had chicken and thousands of things.

But, at that point, she had eaten the same thing so many times that Valeria had begun to find it funny.

"Let me finish!" She reproached and her girlfriend just nodded and remained silent. "Neblina and I took some photos and watched movies."

"You two took photos?" Her girlfriend nodded. "Can you send me them?"

"So that?" (Y/N) had begun to play with Valeria's fingers that were around her waist.

"I want it to be my wallpaper."

The youngest giggled and turned around to see her face. There was some darkness in the room, but she could see her face perfectly. (Y/N) always left the bathroom light on and the door slightly open to prevent the room from being completely dark at night.

Valeria felt that she had done something right, because her girlfriend's body was no longer tense as before and a small yawn had left her lips. She was sleepy again.

"If I don't forget it tomorrow, I will do it."

Valeria nodded. She watched as her girlfriend had placed her head close to her chest. She couldn't see her clearly, but she could tell that her eyes had begun to close.

"Are you going to sleep now? Now I'll be the one with insomnia," she joked.

(Y/N) laughed again, her laugh sounded slow and muffled due to her sleepiness, at any moment she would fall asleep and that was enough for Valeria to know that she had done a good job.

Several minutes passed in which neither spoke, her eyes had closed and soon her breathing became calm, indicating that she had fallen asleep. Valeria smiled, her girlfriend asleep and completely at peace was the best thing she could see. She placed a kiss on her cheek before lying down to sleep as well.

When she was about to close her eyes, a noise caught her attention. Her gaze went to the window, only to see Neblina, who had returned from her night walk.

And Valeria smiled before finally closed her eyes to fall asleep.

#valeria #valeria garza #valeria call of duty #valeria cod #valeria x reader #valeria garza x reader #valeria garza fluff #valeria imagine #valeria garza imagine #valeria one shot #valeria garza one shot #valeria x you #valeria x reader imagine #valeria x you imagine #valeria x female reader #valeria garza cod #valeria garza x you #el sin nombre #las almas #valeria garza x female reader #valeria garza x reader imagine #call of duty #cod x reader #cod x you #cod imagine #modern warfare 2 #mw2

[thepacifistrouter]

Chelley week, day 6: Heartbeat

Okay, I was excited about this day and category, it was the first one I actually did, but I didn't feel like I could convey it in drawings (or that it would take me too long if I did it with that), so I turned it into a short-fic I know it probably won't be well received for that reason, but it was something I really wanted to do, so… well, here it goes.

Thump

It was a cold, but mostly calm winter night, the wind was blowing outside Eaden's bakery, it wasn't especially strong, but it managed to generate howls and the trees to move enough for their wood to make a crackling sound from time to time.

The place, like most of the town, was mostly made of wood, but firmly and solidly built, even though until not long ago, they had to remodel a little inside, mostly the room in which its inhabitants slept - After all, since the second of them arrived, or rather, since they started sleeping together, it had become a necessity to make the ceiling a bit or two higher.

Yeah, a lot of changes had happened in that place, how it had turned from a place of tension, of banging on the wall and night terrors, to not only having an adequate roof so that anyone could stand without crashing or hitting or needing another bandage in his head, it also has a proper window, normal curtains, furniture, and decorations. It was a completely different place. Just like the people sleeping in it.

One of them, the one with the shortest stature, opens her eyes slightly, having woken up, with the weather - or rather the wind - being the main cause, along with a slight drop in temperature. When she was alone, she usually didn’t notice the presence of those stimuli due to being busy with her own nightmares, which either woke her up or kept her distracted. It could also happen that, if she manages to sleep with no nightmares or no dreaming at all, if she noticed them, than the sound plus the cold would bring back bad memories of unpleasant, cold places with hollow sounds on a smaller scale -usually that involved a short walk to the kitchen for a warm milk cup. and a re-reflection on her life and the events surrounding her until she could fall asleep again.

Things are different now. She had managed to get used to it, to feel those signals that reminded everyone that there was still a long time before winter left and spring take place, to stop associating every small unpleasant and cold noise with That place. But of course, as with any person, there could be exceptions, it could happen to anyone that the seasons could wake you up with the weather in the middle of the night, always something inopportune. The main difference was that, in the current time, she had other, new tools to deal with them and, her untold favourite, involved the person who slept a few centimetres from her.

A tall, too-tall, skinny, gawky blonde man who was fast asleep facing her. He was also the main person responsible for the vast majority of changes that both her house and her life had undergone. The mere presence of him there had been and had had a couple of changes.

Not that she was complaining at all, au contraire, having him there, next to her every night, was nothing less than welcome. In fact, at times like this, it was exactly what she needed.

Moving stealthily and carefully (never a problem for her) so that she becomes attached to him. That, at first instance, fixes the problem of the cold, probably for both of them, she knew he could have woken up at some point because of the same reason, neither of them were very fond of the cold after all- but of course, this was not just about the cold, if it was, being like that would have been enough or she could just have gotten up quickly and stealthily, as only she could, to get a blanket and come back and problem solved. No, this was different and required a small specification in her movements. And that was to put her head right at the height of his chest, so she could carefully rest her ear on it, close her eyes and just pay attention.

*Thump-thump*

She smiled.

There it was.

*Thump-thump*

The sound she was looking for.

*Thump-thump*

It wasn't a necessity, but it was something she liked to do from time to time, if the opportunity and circumstances presented themselves (like in this moment) - it was something more like an habit, perhaps? She didn't know, she just knew that for her it was almost like that feeling that comes from the sound of rain and a crackling fireplace on calm nights. Maybe even better. It was simply something that brought her peace.

And it wasn't just because of how she felt about him, although that was an important reason, but she knew it wasn't the only one. It was complicated, after all, it was, on a small scale, a vague reminder of everything they had experienced, but somehow... in a good way.

*Thump-thump*

It made her remember different related moments. How, the first time she saw him in a human form, that prototype avatar of solid light that they had made, was just that, an almost perfect, almost empty mirage, it wasn't real... it wasn't alive, Wheatley was the one that, while being awake, gave it life. Remembering, also, how, watching him asleep (or well, in sleep mode), if she hadn't known, and anyone who didn't know, she would have thought he was dead.

*Thump-thump*

Then, that time on the hill, when she leaned her face as she was doing now, but back then, there was nothing, just something similar to the noise of the LED light in a kitchen or the hard light bridges in That place. It was a strange, uncomfortable feeling... even sad, it made her think about what they did to him, what they took from him and that his whole being, in fact, was actually in something not much bigger than a pen with lights and a lot of unnecessarily complicated Aperture technology.

*Thump-thump*

Even more, at this point, it was… almost hard to believe that he didn't always look like that. Human. Even though, he always acted like one. Who knows how long he was in his little spherical body. She was sure that even now he must feel, at least in part, as if he still is in some level. She knew that at least he still didn't stop completely feeling like a machine and she had her doubts than that would ever change - if it could, there was still plenty of time for that and it was fine, she didn't mind giving him time to adjust to things, it could be annoying, yes, but it was even sweet to see when he made progress on something, how happy he was and how, truly, he kept trying after failing and learned from what he did - achieved or not. Little by little he had begun to stop pretending so often that he knew or could do things that he really didn't, to quick so fast, and start to actually try, to practice and learn despite failing till he gets it and finally being able to do it. Frustration could still become an issue for him, depending on the situation, he could still seek responsibility or blame in others (or things) while failing - fortunately that was something that had also been slowly decreasing over time. Probably, knowing that no one would harm him or throw him up if he failed, specially not her, was a great help on his progress (Plus, the enthusiasm and shine in his eyes when he finally managed to do something well was priceless)

*Thump-thump*

Then, she also remembered the first time she heard that beat, that last time they stepped into That horrible place never to return. He was naked and soaked in a slimy, stinky, gross substance, but in that moment she felt such a relief to see him, she couldn't have cared less about any of it -he was there, he was alive and he seemed to be fine, that was all that mattered -she just needed to go check him and make sure of the “being fine” part. It was in the middle of a hug when she heard it. She was so excited to see him alive that she had overlooked it, distracted by so many emotions and sensations, but being who she was, it didn't take her long to react and, after a small check, It didn't take her long to solve the puzzle. That was not a mirage or an artificial body, it was his actual body, this was real. He had his human body back.

*Thump-thump*

Of course, at that moment there wasn't much time to process it, they were a little more worried about getting back to town all in one piece.

*Thump-thump*

Someone would think that after a couple of 101 lessons on being human and relearning how to use their organic body, everything should have gone fine, but the truth is that they would still have to go through one or two more big Aperture Science Labs headache, but at least this one wouldn't involve the "labs" part, so, by comparison, they weren't that big… but still.

*Thump-thump*

At first it was just a couple of colds, flu, stomach pains, allergies (luckily they taught him not to take too many medicines at the same time to get better sooner because it doesn't work like that), his forehead testing all the edges of 2 meters or less of the town. A lot of unpleasant stuff, but nothing particularly bad - who knows how many decades in suspended animation without even contact with air wreak havoc on anyone's immune system and physical condition -at least he managed to cover his mouth by reflex when sneezing or coughing... most of the time.

The real problem came later, a couple of months later and it started with what seemed to be another case of the flu, but accompanied by a lack of appetite and more and more noticeable fatigue, among other things. He was trying to hide the seriousness of the matter, trying to make it seem like just the flu, saying from time to time that he was starting to feel better and finding ways to make it seem that way. But there was no way to continue the attempt of a theatre once she saw him fall passed out, burning with fever while he tried to go down the stairs (luckily it was almost halfway). The scare plus her own instinct helped her react quickly enough and effectively to first check that there were no serious injuries and then go find help.

The details of what happened are long, complicated, almost worthy of an adventure, but at that moment, Chell could only especially remembered being there, in Dr. Dillon's guest/patient room, him asleep in the bed and her in a chair next to the bed. She went there when she could to check on his progress, changing wet towels and checking him, his temperature, his breathing...and his pulse. Since she checked him after the fall, she could feel how his heart took on such irregular rhythms, sometimes almost at the level of tachycardia... and sometimes so low... without a doubt they were days of worry and discomfort for everyone, including fear for them both. It was an absolute relief when things finally became normal and she could see him acting with the same energy as always, having regular breathing, and being like this, in that very moment, while she was listening to that sound in the rhythm it should.

*Thump-thump*

Of course, not all were bad memories, you could say that a third and final part of what makes this pleasant for her is what that sound transmits to her, his heartbeat could become as much or more communicative than his voice-which is saying a lot, especially on those... private occasions, planned or not. Like that first time, when she found him in the bathroom naked, confused and scared by a part of his own body's functioning that he knew nothing about, so she helped him to... clear up the misunderstanding… by using the empirical method.

She discovered 2 things that night: First, that she liked to feel how, at that moment, the most obvious part of his body was not the only one that showed emotion when they were that close, it was as if they had disconnected his mouth so they could say almost everything that needed to be said.

*Thump-thump*

Second thing was, deep down, she liked having that kind of control over him. Perhaps because he was someone so vulnerable and at the same time so paradoxically unpredictable and predictable at the same time. Having that level of control over him and the circumstances around at such an intimate level was an extremely satisfying delight, almost irresistible to her so, of course, when she managed to prepare, from time to time, very occasionally, she would gladly take advantage of her position. During those encounters, she even learned that there was difference when the heart races out of fear, out of happiness, or out of pleasure.

*Thump-thump*

And now this.

Moments like this, in some certain different way, also counts as a private, intimate moment, but instead of hot, they are warm.

These moments not only allow her to feel his more honest and vulnerable side, but also allows her herself to be openly vulnerable, knowing she would be safe by being it, even if it was just for a bit of a time.

*Thump-thump*

*Thump-thump*

Someone could say, in summary, that these moments, taking the time to listen and/or feel carefully, from time to time, was something that, in some way, for her defined very well his presence in her life and himself, a reminder of what he went through - what they both went through to get here, of who he was and what she liked about him, his fragility, his spontaneity, and that strange paradoxical strength that he himself doesn't seem to realize, but it does seem to be based in that cheerful endless optimism. He made her feel warm inside and happy to have him there with her, alive and in peace. Maybe it wasn't all always joy and happy and fun, but right now, there was no way she could ever say that she regretted it.

*Thump-thump*

*Thump-thump*

It didn't take long for her to begin to fall asleep again, without separating a single centimetre from his chest, from his heartbeat, as if it were a little coo just for her.

*Thump-thump*

Shortly before she completely falls back in the Morpheus arms, she gives herself the small luxury of carefully wrapping one of her arms around him.

*Thump-thump*

To her surprise, somehow he, unconsciously -because she was very sure he was still asleep- seemed to realize this and, in response, slowly and clumsily moved his own arm to lightly puts it around her in the same way.

After that slight initial surprise and a quick processing, she simply smiled - without moving from where she was, without taking her face off his chest, she closed her eyes again and, letting herself be carried away by the calm, but somehow cheerful way of his heartbeat, she finally fell asleep.

*Thump-thump*

#wheatley #portal #portal2 #chell #blue sky #chelley #waffleguppies #wafflestories #portal 2 #chelley week 2024 #day 6 #heartbeat

[electrikworm]

Human Shield: Part 2

Hunter wasn't ready to lose a brother, not like this. But they're soldiers, so they have to finish the mission, with or without Wrecker.

Part 2 of my "how Wrecker got his scar" fic :)

--

Content warning: Temporary Character Death, Blood and Injury, a lot of talk about death

This took me so long! I kept getting distracted. Oops… Hope the angst makes up for the wait!

Inspired by this post by @squad-724

Part 1

Enjoy :)

Read on Ao3

Hunter's heart drops at Wrecker's answer.

He's always hated plan 99. Hunter's not a tubie, he knows that sacrifices are a big part of their lives as soldiers. Even they've heard plenty of stories of clones laying down their lives for the greater good. Clones are expendable, that's just how it is.

Hunter still didn't like giving the act of dying for the mission a name, doesn't like the way doing so has put the thought of self-sacrifice into his brothers heads so prominently.

“What?” Crosshair says. Hunter can hear the way his heart rate skyrockets.

“What do you mean 'plan 99'?” This can't be happening. It can't. Clones die every day, but Hunter's brother's don't. Wrecker can't seriously mean that.

“Self-sacrifice, remember?” Wrecker responds. Hunter knows he means it. Wrecker wouldn't call a plan unless he intended to execute it, wouldn't call plan 99 if he didn't deem it absolutely necessary.

“We know that Wrecker.” Tech says. Hunter glances at him. His eyes are wide behind his goggles.

“You're not dying today, vod.” Hunter says. Wrecker can't die today. “Get your shebs over here, and that's an order.”

Internally, Hunter begs his little brother to listen, to call off what he's planed, to suddenly see a better solution to the problem he's faced with. Instead, Wrecker laughs. The same genuine heartfelt laugh he's always had.

“Can't do that, sarge. Door won't close, and if it doesn't, the fire'll just funnel though the corridor and kill us all.” Wrecker's voice is strained but calm.

Hunter wants to tell Wrecker that he doesn't have to do this, that none of them have to die, that they'll find another way. But Hunter doesn't know that, does he?

“Wrecker.” Hunter says warningly, not sure exactly why. Hunter trusts his vode, trusts Wrecker, but this can't possibly be the only way.

“I can hold them closed.” Wrecker says with a sigh. Hunter shakes his head despite being aware that Wrecker can't see him. “It's what I'm made for.”

“Wrecker, don't!” Hunter shouts, finally regaining enough control of his body to try and run in Wrecker's direction.

Hunter doesn't get far before the whole building shakes. Even with the helmet, the noise is unbearably loud, almost bringing Hunter to his knees. Further down the corridor, the ceiling collapses.

Hunter feels sick, and not because of the way his head hurts. Wrecker's gone. His kih'vod is buried under that rubble, and Hunter could do nothing to stop it from happening. Hunter's vision blurs.

“Hunter we've got company.” Tech's voice wavers ever so slightly as he speaks. Now that Hunter's paying attention, he can hear the steady approach of droids. He can't think about Wrecker now, if he does, he risks wasting Wrecker's sacrifice.

Hunter readjusts the grip he has on his blaster, trying to push down the suffocating emptiness threatening to rise in his chest. Crosshair's still staring at the rubble down the hall. Hunter can see the way his shoulders shake.

“We have to keep moving Cross.” Hunter says, putting a hand on his youngest brother's arm. There's no denying how close the sniper is, was, with Wrecker, even if Crosshair likes to act like they aren't.

“We can't just leave.” He sounds despaired. Hunter wished he knew how to comfort his brother, but that's always been Wrecker's thing. They barely have the time to stand here now, Hunter hasn't got the time to figure out the right thing to say or do.

“We're behind enemy lines. We'll be overrun by droids if we don't.”

Crosshair's head snaps round to look at Hunter. He can feel how intense his gaze is, even through the visor. “We don't leave vode behind.”

“He's gone, Crosshair!” Hunter snaps. He shouldn't let his emotions run free on the battlefield, but he can't stop it this time. “And for nothing if we die here too.”

He grabs Crosshair's arm and starts dragging him. After a few steps, the youngest member of Clone Force 99 start walking on his own again.

As they engage in combat against the approaching droids, it's painfully apparent that they're missing a member. They hardly always fought in a group, but Hunter had planned for Wrecker to be here. His brain seems not to have caught up to the fact that he isn't, and won't ever be again. Hunter keeps trying to spot him, keeps listening out for his heartbeat and heavy breathing as he ploughs through their enemies.

The absence of those rests heavily on Hunter, like it intends to crush his chest. Every time he picks up on it, he's reminded of where his little brother really is.

But they can't stop, don't stop until they're out of enemy territory and back on the Marauder. Hunter has to fight to not let the gravity of the situation consume him as soon as there's a quiet moment.

He and Tech contact the general that gave them the mission, some Chagrian jedi Hunter had never seen before. Hunter can't help but feel some resentment towards the general, despite her not being involved in their brother's death.

As Tech informs the jedi of the data he retrieved, Hunter's barely able to focus. Crosshair didn't even get on the Marauder, still lingering outside.

“The agreed meeting point still stands.” The jedi says. “Can I expect you to arrive on time?”

“Affirmative.” Tech answers, not sounding entirely certain. Hunter wanders off to find Crosshair before Tech's hung up on the jedi.

“What are you doing?” Hunter asks as he comes to a standstill next to his kih'vod.

“We can't leave him Hunter.” Now that Crosshair's helmet is off, Hunter can see he's close to tears. The only thing keeping them from falling is likely the years of harsh training and preparation for a moment like this he's endured. The statement feels a lot like denial.

“Cross, you know he's-”

“I know he's dead, Hunter! You can stop repeating yourself.” Crosshair snaps, face pinched in anger before he turns to look away. “That doesn't mean we have to leave him there, where the seppies can get their filthy hands all over his body. Doesn't mean we need to leave him to rot under rubble in an enemy base.” Crosshair's voice falters more and more as he speaks.

“We'd have to fight our way back in.” Hunter doesn't want to leave Wrecker's body where it is any more than Crosshair, but it's a risk to go back for him.

“I don't give a motla'shebs! We took most of them out, there's just stragglers left.” Crosshair's visibly shaking again. “If you won't come with me, I'll do it alone.”

“If we go back to him, we will be late to the meeting.” Tech says as he descends from the Marauder.

Crosshair's eyes snap to stare at Tech. “Why the kriff would that matter now?”

“Oh no, I agree with you Crosshair. I was merely stating fact.”

With both his brothers advocating to go back, Hunter couldn't bring himself to do the reasonable thing. Not when he so badly wanted to see his little brother at least once more, and to lay him to rest with the respect he deserves. Though Hunter had to admit that he knew little in the ways of burial rites. Tech surely has some information tucked away somewhere, otherwise they'd improvise.

Hunter tries not to think about it too hard as they make their way back to where they firs entered the base. Hopefully there'd be less rubble on that side of the explosion.

There really isn't many droids left. Hunter feels awful for almost deciding against going back for Wrecker's body, just because it's what the rules dictate. They're experimental clone force 99, rules have always been little more than suggestions to them. Hunter doesn't know why he thought now would be the time to starts following them.

The devastation leading up to what used to be the generator room is substantial. The smell of fire and fuel is almost overwhelming. Hunter hopes death came quick and painlessly for their vod.

Hunter can smell the blood long before they get to where Wrecker's body must lie. The silence around the three brothers becomes heavy. Hunter knows they all dread what they'll find. There's no saying how much of their brother will still be recognizable.

Among the bits of twisted metal, Hunter is able to distinguish the remains of the door, dented and warped by the explosion. His eyes watch the glint of something reflective. Nausea twists Hunter's stomach as he recognizes it as a pool of blood, Wrecker's blood. But, that's when he hears it.

A heartbeat so weak, Hunter barely recognized it as such, and wheezed breathing. Hunter's own heart almost stops the second time that day.

“He's alive!” Hunter yells as he tries to find a way to get closer to their brother. First, he just sees an arm poking out from under the door, then Wrecker's head. What's left of the door is laying on top of the rest of their brother. Hunter starts trying to get the weight off of Wrecker.

Blood soaks into his gloves as Hunter drops to the floor next to his little brother. Wrecker may be alive, but barely. If they don't get him out now, it won't stay that way long.

Tech and Crosshair don't need to be told what to do, finding their place next to Hunter with practised efficiency. It isn't lost on Hunter that Wrecker could lift the debris with ease. Wrecker groans when the door is shifted off his chest, but remains unconscious.

“What do we do?” Crosshair's voice cracks. He sounds so lost.

“Stop the bleeding, no matter what.” Tech says, dropping to his knees next to their fallen brother. “We can worry about infection once he's no longer going into hypovolemic shock.”

Now that he's uncovered, Hunter can see the extent of the damage to Wrecker's body. Most of his left side is a torn and bloody mess. Hunter tries not to think about it too hard as helps his brothers pack Wrecker's injuries with bandages. His armor, even his helmet, is badly damaged. Wrecker's face is a particularly dire sight.

They do the best they can under the less than ideal circumstances. Hunter worries it might not be enough. Wrecker's dangerously pale and shivering as they drag him out of the base. With their effort combined, they can move him at a decent speed.

If they'd went after him faster, Wrecker wouldn't be this close to death. Hunter thought Wrecker was dead, so he made a decision based on that fact. But he'd made a mistake, left his kih'vod to bleed out under rubble.

Had Wrecker been conscious as first? Was he lying there in a pool of his own blood, in pain, just waiting for death, waiting for it to be over?

If they lose Wrecker now, it'll be Hunter's fault. He'll never be able to forgive himself.

Wrecker's still out when they put him down on the Marauder's floor, though he's writhing and struggling against them holding him still. Crosshair kneels on the floor, supporting Wrecker's upper body in his lap. Hunter helps his youngest body fix any slipped bandages and add more from the ships medkit as Tech gets the Marauder on the fastest route back to Kamino. Hunter can't help but notice that Tech's flying more careful than he usually does.

Seeing Crosshair hold Wrecker close, the large clone's head limply resting against the sniper's chest, Hunter's reminded of how the two of them had bickered that morning. Hunter hadn't caught all of the disagreement, but it boiled down to Crosshair saying he finds Wrecker's habit of hugging them childish and refusing to do so before the mission. Not a new argument by any means. Crosshair loves to act like he hates any affection coming from his vode.

Hunter wonder's if Crosshair's thinking about the disagreement now too. If Wrecker doesn't make it, that would been the last chance Crosshair had to hug him. Crosshair looks miserable as he keeps readjusting his arms around their dying brother.

“He'll be fine Cross.” Hunter says, barely believing the words himself. Knowing what to say has never been Hunter strong suite.

“You can't know that!” Crosshair hisses. “Look at him Hunter!”

Hunter doesn't say anything again. He takes Wrecker's hand in his. Even through his blacks, Wrecker feels ice cold, especially compared to how he usually runs hot.

“He needs blood.” Hunter can hear how slow Wrecker's heart is beating. The sound isn't comforting in the slightest.

“We've done direct blood transfusion before, what are we waiting for?” Crosshair says, stripping the armor off his arm. Hunter calls for Tech, not trusting himself with this. He knows the theory, but this isn't the moment to test if he's up to the task.

Crosshair makes sure to remind them all of Wrecker's dislike of needles, snapping at Tech to be careful more than once. Hunter can thankfully keep the two of them from starting an argument, reminding them in turn that there's little to no chance of Wrecker waking at the moment. Tech still takes care to firmly tape the the needle to Wrecker's arm once it's in.

None of them speak as they watch Crosshair's blood trickle through the tube connecting him to Wrecker. They almost have to fight Crosshair when Tech tells him he's given enough blood, the di'kut being willing to put his own health at risk to give Wrecker a better chance at survival.

It's not much blood, especially considering the difference in mass between the youngest of the squad, but Wrecker's heart sounds a little better, and his breathing is less erratic. Still, Wrecker's hardly out of the meteor field yet, blood loss being far from his only problem.

“What state is he in, Tech?” Hunter asks.

“Oh he's clearly doing great, can't you tell?” Crosshair snarks before Tech can even open his mouth. Hunter glares at Crosshair, but doesn't react verbally.

“It's hard to say.” Tech adjusts his goggles. There's so much blood smeared on his chest plate, though Hunter can smell that it's on all of them. Tech's white armor just allows it to be more visible. “He has numerous broken bones and his left eye and ear are beyond saving. The med scanner doesn't indicate bleeding in the brain or signs of organ failure, however, it is well documented that portable med scanners aren't always as precise as they should be.”

Frustration crosses Crosshair's face. “So what, that's it? He could be dying and we won't know until it happens?”

“Well, Hunter will be able to tell if Wrecker's heart stills, or he stops breathing. Other than that, yes.” Tech's answer doesn't make the situation feel any less tense. “Preventing further loss of body heat would be ideal. As would keeping him comfortable in general. Though that is less in favour of increasing his chance of survival, and rather to make the situation as peaceful as possible, if he does pass before we make it to Typoca City.” Tech's voice almost gives out towards the end of his statement.

Hunter's chest aches as he squeezes his little brother's hand. Wrecker has to make it. They can't lose him, not like this, not because Hunter made a stupid decision.

They hardly talk the rest of the time, focusing on keeping Wrecker warm and calm. Hunter barely dares to breath too loud, scared he'll miss a change in Wrecker's condition.

It's chaos when they land on Kamino. Crosshair and Tech yell for a medic as Hunter still doesn't dare to do anything more than listen to Wrecker's heart and wheezed breath.

As they watch Wrecker's limp form being transported off on a stretcher, none of the three brother's dare to say a thing. Hunter wouldn't be surprised if his kih'vode are wondering if this is the last they'll see of Wrecker too. They likely won't get an answer to that for hours.

Feeling sick to his stomach, Hunter trudges his way to their barrack. There, all three of them collapse next to each other, incapable of doing anything but cling to one another as the await news of their brother's fate.

#tbb #the bad batch #tbb wrecker #wrecker whump #cw blood #I still have one part planned to kinda wrap things up #though that one might be quite short #tbb fanfiction #my writing

[greenconverses]

Richard saying, "we're going to end up in the same place, it doesn't matter how we get there" pissed me off so much ISN'T "HOW WE GET THERE" THE ENTIRE POINT OF STORIES?! ISN'T THAT WHY THE ENTIRE DAMN BOOK EXISTS?!

So, shocker, I have Thoughts about this post of his. My knee jerk reaction when I saw it last night was an eye roll and an urge to rant, which I kept contained because I'd already ranted and we gotta space that stuff out from time-to-time.

And now that I have had a full night's sleep and I am slightly less cranky, I'm gonna have to go on record and... DEFEND part of his logic, gasp.

For those not in the know, RR wrotes this reply to question on Threads (lol) a few days ago about changes to the plot in the sixth episode that apparently bugged a lot of people:

And like, I'm deeply annoyed about the "it won't change anything" bit because OH MY GOD STORYTELLING which is a whole other thing but I do have something to say about the man's logic and the difference in the show premise vs the books that I think is flying over a lot of people's heads.

The plot of the show is Percy saving Sally and doing a quest along the way. Sally and Percy's relationship is the A plot, the mythology and conflict among the gods is the B plot. Percy knows from 1x02 that his mom is alive and that changes his priorities immediately; we see him start to care about the overall quest and his place in the world in 1x05, but he's still pushing forward because of his mom. You have to add another pearl to pay off that A storyline, to promise audience members that Percy is going to succeed until he doesn't.

Percy in the books has a feeling his mom is alive or that he can get her back from the Underworld, but doesn't know for sure. The quest and the setting up the overall Big Three backstory is the main plot of the books and what we the readers are focused on. I wouldn't even put saving Sally as a B or C plot in the original TLT. Percy doesn't get confirmation that she's alive until they're down in the Underworld and Hades reveals he took her for leverage, so then only having three pearls becomes a brief but important conflict.

This is where we're seeing a lot of the issues with the show's plot come to a head. It's fine to change the priority of the story from returning the bolt to saving Sally, because it delivers the same result in the end anyway, like Rick says. But you have to bulk up other parts of the script in a way to make up for it and the show has not delivered on that part. (See exhibit A: my rant about any lack of mystery with the monsters.)

I think the most egregious change that he says doesn't matter is the trio missing the deadline. In the books, we're told that natural disasters and weird things have been happening since the bolt disappeared as Zeus and Poseidon fought, and stuff was getting worse the closer the deadline came. We are briefly shown this in 1x05 with Ares and in 1x06 with Luke saying things are "bad" at camp, but imo, it doesn't feel super heavy. The consequences of missing the deadline is that gods go to war and bad shit happens! Lots of mortals are gonna die! Doesn't that matter?

The show could've stepped outside of the Percy and Sally storyline for little bit to give more of a perspective about what was happening at camp or the outside world to bring that weight - you're not limited to just Percy's POV storyline in the medium of a TV show! (Of course, we can step outside of it to give a LMM cameo/stinger because priorities but I digress.)

They didn't and I'm not sure how they're going to "solve" Zeus's response to Percy missing the deadline 'cause like... this is the unreasonable king of the gods that Rick has started yet another series based on the premise of him being a petty bitch who wants to ruin Percy's life. Is the guy gonna walk back starting a war? Is he waiting to start because Poseidon asked nicely? What's the consequence to the world going to be? Clearly nothing, since Rick said the story is going to end how it was always going to end, which is just poor storytelling.

#anon #ask box #pjo tv show #pjo tv #pjo tv crit #me then: i'm totally going to be normal about this show i won't get involved in any of the wank because i have done my time in this fandom #me now: AND YOU KNOW WHAT HERE'S ANOTHER THING I HAVE A PROBLEM WITH #anyway i should actually like... do my job now lmao

[plulp]

hey guys sorry for the radio silence (4 days) :( Im Sick

but in other news: almost at 200 followers!!!! so if any of you want me to do the same thing i did last time (maybe not as much) or something different i can to celebrate :) since i should be free to draw however much after this week (have some things to take care of (while im sick))

#ill finish doing asks when i get back home (dont know when) #and then when i hit 200 ill do another thing i guess? maybe pcs again or maybe ill draw other peoples dol designs but problem with that is #i Dont Know Many People Here 😰 #i only follow legit like 5 people and i dont check this dashboard often so i miss a lot #since i usually use my main tumblr to yknow. scroll through tumblr #i wish i could reblog other peoples art more often too but for some reason i get nervous? its so weird. i get nervous writing tags #probably because i get too excited and then i get a headache #what was this about again #oh #if any of you have anything you want me to do for 200 you can send an ask or something and ill make a poll so you all can vote on it maybe #but hopefully i can do it like order as in: finish asks i have now > celebrate yay!! > draw more designs lmao #but before all of that. i have to finish this one thing. lemon honey green tea give me the strength i need to finish this. #i need to clear out ageless followers when i get home too :( so i might not be that close after that #right now im 8 away from 200 i think? #but thank you to whoevers followed me :) #if you dont have an age in your bio remember to put one okay? or ill get another headache #i think thats all i have to say right now? if you have any questions comments or concerns please dont be afraid of me. #germaphone #i promise i dont bite. i kind of gnaw like a toothless cat. its all gums and its slimy and feels weird. like that #200 follower special you all ask me about my teeth situation (nothing special really)

[watatsumiis]

i think if I have enough confidence to outright lie or have an incorrect detail in a longform fic with enough conviction and/or explanation to go with it. you guys should just not say anything and give me that ok? ok

#glad we got this out of the way /silly #general barks #listen i dont feel like looking up mondstadt history or tiny character lore details for this fic. i just dont care that much #“these characters didnt have their visions/werent friends/didnt live here/whatever at this time” #“actually the lore/history states that xyz is like this because blah blah blah” #“umm did you know that-” #hush. no. shh. #im literally just a dog at a computer its a miracle im getting pieces out with paws like this #what do you expect me to do. #like yeah ill research tiny details for things that interest me sure but i just. #sometimes i take things in canon and i squash them into an empty juice box so theyre not my problem anymore #“actually in canon it states that-” canon is mine now. i do what i want. woof bark. say another word and youre gonna get bited #youre going to take this fic and youre going to ENJOY IT

[pigeonenjoyer]

FAT PIGEON HAS RETURNED I MISSED HIM SO MUCH 🥺

#fat pigeon tag #wood pigeon #columba palumbus #for weeks he was just fighting that other pigeon constantly and rarely did anything else #so he never visited and i got increasingly worried abt him #feathers were flying everywhere and even here you can see he's missing a lot of feathers and is much skinnier #i wish males weren't so territorial :( #ik it's the circle of life and natural selection and shit but i was worried fat pigeon was gonna be bullied out of his home #and it's not safe out there there are so many cattis that are excellent hunters and my dogs scare them away from here so it's safer #but he's back now and im so glad bc first of all im lov him and second of all i needed this #i've been in kind of a slump lately bc im just really burned out #existence itself is tiring for me and owl city wasn't lying when he said ''im far too tired to fall asleep'' #bc my insomnia ironically gets worse when im burned out and need more sleep and i get endlessly frustrated with it #and i've just been so. not knowing what to do with myself?? bc like i have adhd so i can't do nothing that's torture #but everything else just compounded my fatigue and when you mix that with depression you get everything that usually chers you up just #not being fun anymore. and being just another Thing that tires you out even more #it's so hard to get out of those slumps bc it's not just mental it's physical. i've been physically exhausted #and anything i could have done to get myself out of it required energy i didn't have #but then i saw fat pigeon and just. my mood did a complete 180 #i have been so happy and energetic today and obviously all my problems aren't magically solved but that's what it feels like #like i feel like im top of the world rn?? there is a reason this blog is titled ''antidepressants with wings'' bc that's what pigeons are #to me at least. i love them sm 🥹 #i wish there was a way i could tell fat pigeon that i would literally die for him and he's changed my life #ok so i MAY have bipolar disorder. but idc im gonna ride this high as long as i can

[monstermoviedean]

thank god it's clock out time i was about to fucking lose it

#pretty sure I'm using the right number because you refuse to keep track of them #if you make me hunt down another number over a charge that is less than ten dollars i will scream #and then there's the grantee who makes double my salary and complains about everything #yes i know you live in a rural area guess what. so do I. yeah i know we asked you to talk about trans kids and i don't want to hear about #how 'people out here just don't support that.' I know that's the truth but we're still asking for data because it's the right thing to do. #I know what people in the country behave like i fucking live here and i don't want to be reminded of how shitty it is! #meanwhile all of this was distracting me from reading about adolescent substance overdose deaths so now I have to finish reading tomorrow #FUCK. #it's fine. I'm fine. #these are all normal regular job problems that i would have at any job. my job is on the whole very good and not soulsucking #and I'm stressing too hard about the weather and family obligations and moving so i just didn't need ANY of this #I did get more of a rhythm today though so that's a start #okay bye nap time i've tired myself out like a toddler having a tantrum #this aussie guy i know calls tantrums wookiees and I always wondered if it was an aussie thing or a him thing

[fingertipsmp3]

I’m not even gonna lie, my grief over Mabel is making me insane

#every time i remember she’s not here i hear this roaring in my ears and i just break down and cry #i keep trying to pretend she’s just asleep in the other room but it’s not working #looking at pictures of her just makes me cry. the people who will be cremating her are going to take a clipping of fur and a pawprint from #her for me but i don’t know what i’m going to do with those things. like where i’ll put them #i know once i’m a bit more emotionally stable i’ll regret not having them. i wish i had some of kim’s fur. i forgot the feel of his fur so #quickly and i always struggled with that. but i also know that having pieces of mabel won’t comfort me in the slightest right now because i #just want her back and i feel so so so guilty even though i know it was her time #she’d gone so senile that she had a panic attack every time she went on a walk. it could last up to an hour. she was restless; refusing to #nap & barely able to sleep. she was riddled with arthritis to the point you could only touch her head; paws & maybe her chest #she bit if you tried to clean her or have her wear anything or sometimes if you put her lead on her. she never used to do that. that was a #new development that started in about june-july after she had two strokes. her little heart was racing and she was panting all the time f #she also had this growth in her mouth that may or may not have been infected or cancerous and she wasn’t letting us examine it. we wouldn’t #have been able to adminster treatment either because she’d bite and thrash if we tried to look in her mouth #but she was still eating and drinking okay… drinking too much if anything. and she was more or less continent. and she would have some lucid #moments where she was wagging her tail at us and requesting pets. she could get in and out of the house no problem #it was just quality of life because i knew she was in pain & her brain and heart were both shutting down and she wasn’t able to enjoy stuff #like walks that she used to love. and i knew she wouldn’t survive this winter because she haaaated the cold #but i still feel guilty because i know she could probably have lived another month. but it’s also like. how much would that month of life #have stressed her out? she’d already forgotten lots of people like my stepdad; my grandparents; my best friend and her kid. if she’d have #forgotten me and/or the house she would’ve been scared all the time and i never wanted that for her. i wanted her to have a good last couple #of days. and i think she did but there’s part of me that still feels so guilty and wishes she was still here #even if she was just eating and drinking and sleeping. even if she stopped letting me pet her. but then i know i’d have been keeping her #around for me. i feel like i ended her suffering but i also potentially robbed her of some happy moments #i just can’t get over the guilt of leaving her on that floor by herself. i sat there for ages waiting for someone to carry her out but then #i realised they were waiting for me to leave so i just walked out and it felt so wrong. she would have hated that she went to sleep on a #cold hard floor. she didn’t even lie on the floor voluntarily. she slept on the dining room couch or in her bed #i can’t stop crying whenever i think of it. i feel like shit and i don’t know how to move on #i put all her things in the garage to be sorted out when i’m less upset. apart from her collar and her blankets #i put her collar around one of the stair bannisters and i gave her blankets to my friend for her dog #i don’t know what i’ll do when she comes back to me in an urn. scream and cry and throw up probably

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere x reader