#coughs I have one too many thoughts here
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So tdi fandom who are we thinking for this?
#coughs I have one too many thoughts here#td duncan#td sierra#td scott#td alejandro#td Cody#td noah#td owen#td zoey#td lindsay#unfortunately#luckily I donât think thereâs any reboot that have had this YET#total drama#tdi
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POV: you wake up in the middle of your own autopsy with force powers then immediately get brainwashed into falling to the dark side
I was reminded of the fact that I havenât drawn inquisitor!fivesâ autopsy scars in way too long so here I am, delivering a few too many Fives đ
Anyway I know I donât post much about the AU on here so props to anyone who knows whatâs going on here even slightly, Iâve decided to nerf siren!echo (who WAS part of this AU yes I know quite random) but since him being turned into a siren kinda limits what I can do with him story wise he is now an AU of the AU.
That means the name I came up with for the au (dead mean walking/swimming or dmw(s) as Iâve been tagging it) is kinda irrelevant. Iâll just call this the inquisitor fives AU but if you have any AU name suggestions feel free to drop them.
Here are some of the major factors of the AU:
It gets worse before it gets better
(WARNING: there are quite a few heavy topics covered in the AU such as torture, dehumanisation and su*cidal thoughts, so pls read at your own discretion)
- fives wakes up in the middle of his own autopsy with force sensitivity, then gets brainwashed into falling to the Dark Side by Palpatine. As an Inquisitor, he does not remember anything about his life because those memories were blocked by Palpatine.
- Palpatine discovers that Fives is essentially immortal, and any injuries inflicted on him will heal no matter how bad.
- when echo gets rescued from skako minor, he is recalled to Kamino for experimentation, first of all so they can figure out what the Techno Union did to him, second of all to see how he survived his injuries. Nala se, who knows that fives came back to life, theorises that since he and echo were tube twins they share the âimmortalityâ. He is kept on Kamino for VERY extensive experimentation where terrible things happen to him (cough vivisection cough lobotomy) and so never joins Clone Force 99 even if he did work with them on Anaxes.
- Fives in this time is sent out on many missions by Palpatine that involve him unaliving many people, and after the rise of the Empire he hunts a few Jedi.
- Fox, who throughout the war had experienced many blackout missions where he woke up afterwards covered in blood, is the last living Coruscant Guard commander. (Thorn dies, stone vanishes one day, Thire mistakes Vader for a Jedi and pays the price) Despite the best efforts of his son secretary Dogma (no way!?) Fox has very little will to live, is extremely depressed and borderline suicidal, he would like nothing more than to bite the dust, but still feels he has a duty to the very few remaining corries and so tries to keep it together (he is failing)
- one day Palpatine decides he doesnât need Fox to do his bidding anymore since he has much better assets at his disposal (Fives), and decides it would be ironic to sic his pet clone inquisitor onto Fox. Fives still doesnât remember anything, and only knows that Fox is responsible for the main scars on his body and believes fox is the reason he doesnât remember most of his life, and so sets out to kill fox. They battle it out (ref to that one animation wip I posted) and fives is on the verge of killing fox (who didnât really try to fight that much, like I said he would very much like to die and dying at the hand of the vod he âkilledâ seems fitting to him) when he gets a sudden vision of echo.
- all fives knows is echo is extremely important to him and must be rescued and that snaps him out of palpatineâs control. He knows he probably canât rescue echo alone, and since fox has already been betrayed by the empire he decides âfuck itâ and basically kidnaps fox and they run. They make a deal, that once echo has been found, Fives will put Fox out of his misery (fox feels that fives should be the only person to kill him, and only goes along with the plan because he refuses to let anyone else kill him)
- fox and fives proceed to go on an intergalactic road trip to ârescue echoâ even though neither of them know how to do that. They become closer friends throughout, and fives slowly regains bits and pieces of the Before
- meanwhile during the destruction of Kamino, the bad batch stumble on echo and rescue him and he stays with them for a little bit before leaving with Rex
- meanwhile Dogma helps the rest of the remaining Corries desert, kills too many storm troopers, and tries to go after his buir fox and the bastard inquisitor who kidnapped him
This is the main stuff you need to know for the AU haha so if youâve got new name suggestions Iâm all ears ty!!
#dmw(s)#back in black AU#dead men walking AU#my art#star wars#star wars the clone wars#the clone wars#star wars art#star wars tcw#sw tcw#tbb echo#arc trooper echo#star wars au#inquisitor fives#inquisitor#force sensitive fives#fox and fives#tcw fives#clone trooper fives#arc trooper fives#fives#star wars alternate universe#clone wars fanart#star wars clone wars#clone wars#clone wars au#commander fox#domino twins
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The School Bully Loves You, Pt. 1:
Yandere Bully Forces Nerdy You to be His
[I hope you all enjoy my first semi-series on here!]
[Yandere! Bully x GN Nerd! Reader]
·ă·:.ă..ă.:·â·ă·:.ă..ă.:·â
Everyone at your high school knew that it was best to avoid Blake.
The upperclassman was a bully, plain and simple. He had a habit of beating people down if they dared get in his way, or even if they just looked at him in a manner he didn't appreciate.
You were on the complete opposite of the spectrum: a grade-A nerd. You were a goody two-shoes to boot, always volunteering after school and helping your fellow classmates study whenever they struggled with a subject. The captain of the Mathletes team and one of the star columnists in the school newspaper, you were the epitome of nerd.
However, even with your good nature, you avoided Blake as best as you could, fearful that you'd face his wrath and have him beat your face into a pulp. You'd heard the stories, and you'd seen enough teen movies to know that bullies and nerds do not mix, at all.
Unfortunately, one Friday morning, you walked out of the front door to your house to head towards the bus stop-- but you immediately froze when Blake was in your driveway, leaning casually against his car.
"Bl-Blake?" you coughed out in surprise. "What are you doing--"
Blake just grunted and opened up the passenger side door, gesturing at it. When you didn't make a move, his frown deepened on his face.
"Get in!" he barked, the forcefulness of his deep voice making you jump.
Afraid of making the bully even angrier, you scurried over towards the car and practically leapt inside. "Um, wh-where are we going?" you trembled as soon as Blake got in and started to drive off down the street.
Blake cocked his eyebrow at you in confusion. "School," he scoffed, as if it should've been obvious.
You wanted to ask why the school bully was driving you to school, but you were too concerned with how he placed his arm over your small shoulders in the tight confines of the car.
You were stunned silent at first, but then something popped into your head that you couldn't ignore.
"How did you know where I live?" you asked Blake, your voice small and barely audible over the loud music playing over the speakers.
"Huh?" Blake asked, turning the volume down a bit before shaking his head. "Don't worry about it."
"B-but..."
Blake turned the volume back up, effectively silencing you. You kept your lips pursed for the rest of the drive to school, anxiety seeping out of your every pore. When Blake finally parked in the parking lot, you thought about bolting as fast as you could, but your legs were like jelly.
You nearly crawled out of the car and cautiously began to walk towards the entrance when a tight visegrip swallowed your hand.
Blake interlocked his fingers with yours, giving you a sneer when you attempted to pull away. He was much stronger than you, and when you kept trying, he leaned down closer to your ear.
Thanks to his proximity, a lot of the other students began to gawk at the two of you, their eyes widening and many of them murmuring to another as they saw the school bully holding hands with the nerdiest person in class.
"You're smart," Blake smirked as he whispered in your ear, "so I need you to comprehend this: You're mine."
A cold shiver traveled down your spine, and you tried to pull away once more; but Blake was much stronger than you, and he gave you a rough tug, making you topple into him.
"That's one," Blake sneered, even holding up one of his fingers to count. "When I get to three, I'll have to punish you. So make sure you behave and be my sweet little angel, got it?"
Swallowing hard, you nodded, fearful of what was in store for you.
To be continued...
#yandere boyfriend#yandere boy#yandere daddy#yandere x reader#yandere x you#obsessive love#possessive boyfriend#yandere bully#yandere bad boy#bad boy#bad boy x nerd#nerd you#Blake#my oc#Blake the Bully
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bathing.
đ pairings: cast (astarion, gale, wyll, laeâzel, shadowheart, karlach, halsin) x female!tiefling!tav (reader).
đ content warnings: suggestive, everybody is a little freak, non-consensual voyeurism, implied scent kink (gale), mentions of scars, afab anatomy. tiefling anatomy.
đ sypnosis: what is a warrior to do when all their companions are peeping toms?
đ authorâs note: they are freaks and its been very long since iâve written. please forgive a lady if what sheâs written is unappealing.
âCan you keep it â fucking quiet?!â
Astarion whisper-yells at the entire party of people hiding within bushes and treelines, all fighting tooth and nail like rabid animals for a peek (and taste) of their ragtag, frustratingly attractive leaderâs curves.
They didnât even mean to stumble into eachother, each to their own blindly traversing through the thickets of the woods towards the nearest river. Tav simply mentioned having to retire early to take a bath (much to Galeâs dismay), and they all hungrily jumped towards the opportunity like dogs to a meatless bone, the one of the hopefully many chances theyâll see you naked, vulnerable, and shivering â even if itâs only due to the lack of warmth in the riverâs streams.
Itâs wrong, debauched, even. Hells, even literal devils, Karlach and Wyll, wear faces ridden with shame. Of course, they (namely Astarion and Laeâzel) poked at the others stalking as if they werenât shamelessly doing the same.
The tension in the air was thick, each a barrel on the verge of explosion ready to wipe out the recently discovered possibility of rivalries and competition â but they couldnât blame eachother; there was just something about you that made you so very enticing. They all thought it was incredibly silly to think only one person would want you.
âWell,â Astarion clicked his tongue in displeasure, having his private time foiled. Still, he smiled sardonically. âweâre all degenerates, it seems. Weâre all looking forward to having a... fun time.â
A deep rumble came, and it surprisingly did not come from the forest ground. It was simply Halsin, all too polite and calm smiles. Astarion groaned; he was sick of this big fucking oaf with hearts for eyes and a log of wood for brains. âWe are not depraved for simply yearning to admire our friend in a state of tranquilââ
âOh, please! Donât act like a saint in front of me!â The vampire spawn huffed, hands on his hips. âWeâre all here for the same reason, we all want to see Tav fucking naked, no point in lying now!â
Tints of red and pink all rushed to everyoneâs faces, and even Shadowheart was reduced to fiddling with her fingers together. Though awkward coughs ensued in the air, not a single word of denial was uttered.
Karlach is first to speak up, ever brazen. âItâs true!â She says with her signature sharp smile. âI wanted to see her tits!â
(Laeâzel and Astarion nodded approvingly to Karlachâs honesty. Halsin and Gale quietly shared their sentiments on their preference to your ass. Shadowheart and Wyll could not disagree to both.)
Amidst their busy conversation and debate regarding your bodyâs fine qualities, the alarmingly close and approaching noises of branches snapping and leaves crunching had rendered them silent, panicked shivers and goosebumps on their skin. With shared glances and only a few split seconds to react, the party floundered and flailed for whatever they could use to stay hidden.
âSettle down, you circus; Tavâs coming!â Wyll is the first amongst the party to silently and comically dive into a bush with Karlach, clutching their tails to avoid it rustling about in excitement. Halsin had thrown Gale and Astarion atop a treeâs thick branches before joining them. Laeâzel, disappointingly, camoflauges just well with the greenery, watching Shadowheart flounder about and settle for lying on the ground with grass over her face.
âAll you filthy ska'keth.â Laeâzel hisses, letting everyone know of your now visible presence, the halting of your footsteps along the other edge of the river. âEnjoy the show.â
Across the distance, their focus had been shifted to you and now solely you.
You quietly groan, trudging towards the river youâve been searching to no end, you set down your basket of fine oils, herbs and waxes as your armored limbs ache and practically cry for a dip in the clear stream. With no haste, you take in the cool night air, this little moment of peace, away from prying eyes youâve fought long and hard to obtain. Sweat trickles down your throat, your tail swaying in contentment in the calm atmosphere.
Quickly deciding youâve had enough of the crisp air, you reach towards your body to unclasp and unfasten the many buckles on your durable armor â starting with the iron top, quickly taking it off to reveal your bare, battle-worn chest and hastily discarding the metal on your legs, throwing them aside in favor of letting the cold air bite at your naked, scarred body before you go into the water; allowing your body a little moment of respite from the suffocation and heat of tight, bloody armor â even letting your tail sway around freely instead of being constricted to being stiff. A content smile creeps its way onto your face.
You lightly step your way from the sand to the edge of the water, continuing to walk until youâre trembling from the cold, until youâre hips-down in the water. A grateful sigh is pulled from your lips as you start to wade about, your hands subtly working to wash the dried blood, gore and grime off of your body and hair â using the oils and wax soaps of sweet woodruff and wine from your basket, even scrubbing your horns. A little part of you finds this normalcy almost unfamiliar, uncomfortable; itâs been quite a while youâve taken care of yourself. Your thoughts start to drift; prior to your abduction by the Nautiloid ship, were you ever taken care of, like this? By other hands, even?
(You hope so.)
Another sigh is dragged out of you, though wearier as guilt treads within you. Just a little moment of peace, of indulgence before you go back to the dreadful task of keeping your companions and yourself alive and fighting. Just a little more time. You think you deserve it.
A silence was washed over the forest, and the party as they all beheld you and your battle-worn body. It felt almost sacred, like doing this would have them damned to the Hells and below but it was simply too captivating. Your bodice was a web and a product of war, and they were caught mesmerized â with only the dense forest and one another to witness their quickly unravelling need for you. But even then, they felt some semblance to pity. What they wouldnât give to the gods right now to be by your side and give you some tending to.
The ridges down your back, the swaying base of your tail, the alluring image of your hips and ass teasingly disappearing into the water below, the silhouette of your horns â that untroubled smile on your lips â they all drink it in with their eyes in a fashion similar to Astarionâs throat would with your blood.
They savor it for as long as they can, before stepping out of the trance as Gale himself not-so-quietly attempted to clamber down from the rough-bark tree he was settled in, dropping down to the dirt and crushing the leaves loudly and ungracefully. Shadowheart gaped with mortification at him from the ground, everyone wishing to every god above you would have mistaken the sound as a particularly large animal, perhaps an owlbear and not a wizard along with an entire party intruding on your privacy.
âGale! What in the Nine Hells are you doing?!â
Astarion had settled for whisper-yelling once again, pointing at him accusingly from his position atop the treeâs branches besides Halsin. Gale waved his hand, silently telling him to shut the fuck up, before urgently pointing at your discarded armor and clothing, then proceeding to give him a big smile and two thumbs up.
Surely enough to the mortification of the party, he quickly cast Misty Step over himself to travel to your area and hastily swiped (stole) anything soft â including your unattended bandages and undergarments, taking a small moment to put it to his nose and re-casting the spell to return below the tree within a few seconds. He wallowed in his pride before with a swift motion, tucked the newly acquired materia into the pockets of his robe much to the discomfort (and mild envy) of all of them.
âA man has to do and take what he can.â Gale reasoned to nobody in particular, nodding solemnly as if he just shared a piece of wisdom. He suppressed a yelp as Laeâzel then threw a rock at him, followed by another as Astarion thwacked a small branch straight to his forehead from above.
âJust leave it.â Wyll snidely commented, fighting with his life to tear away his eyes from your moonlit form, breaking out of a trance. âWe should leave, go back to camp. Itâd be suspicious if everyone just disappeared.â
âUgh, you are such a killjoy, Wyll.â Astarion rolled his eyes but complied, scaling down the tree quietly, much unlike Gale earlier, who was still fiddling around his pockets with your intimates. âA party pooper, even.â
As repulsive the idea to leave you was, it was reasonable. Begrudingly, everyone quietly sat up or climbed down and quietly attempted to find their way through the dense, dark forest, sharing little observations and hushed chitchat along the way. And soon enough, the party found themselves in familiar territory, now gathering around and settling down near the campfire like they previously had before you announced your leave, as if they didnât just claw their way through eachother earlier to see a scrap of your vulnerability.
The fire cast a warm glow over the party as they immersed in chitchat, a few (namely Shadowheart and Astarion) pestering and even offering a bargain to Gale for the underclothes he had nicked earlier. The wizard was not deterred; fair and square, he wagged his finger as if to say nuh-uh to the seething two. It was only shortly after, that you came stumbling back into camp like a lost fawn, hair and body language calm and loose but the armor remaining stiff on your body.
Karlach coughed to let the others know you had arrived from your personal time. âSoldier! Youâre back!â You greeted her with a nod, before raising a brow and sweeping your eyes amongst them. Gale swallowed, placing a protective hand over the pocket that held your garments.
âYou would not believe what happened.â You sighed in utter distress before plopping yourself down besides Halsin and Astarion on the log to let the fire embrace you with warmth, piquing everyoneâs interest and attention with intense ease. âA wandering owlbear ate my clothes.â
They all collectively either guffawed or choked on their spit, Laeâzel scoffing and Astarion groaning amongst them. Right. Of course, you would have thought it was a fucking owlbear. Thieving owlbears that take normal, musky clothes instead of shiny armor.
âAh, owlbears.â Gale tutted and sighed with faux sympathy, nervously chuckling and shifting to hide the lump in his pockets. âTheyâd eat almost anything, really.â
Astarion shot him a bewildered look, as if to ask, donât you? You swallowed two of my books last night!
âYou can borrow my clothes, for the night.â Shadowheart butted in, suddenly slotting herself behind you and setting a reassuring palm on your shoulder. You smiled at her, gazing up at her gratefully. âThank you, Shaââ
âWell, you can have my clothes!â Karlach and Laeâzel shot up in unison.
âSharing your old filth, I can sew them new clothes!â Astarion argued, until everyone started refuting eachother and proposing that you take theirs and whatnot.
You sighed with exasperated fondness, immensely troubled but somewhat used to it as you watch your companions pointlessly banter, having little doubt that by the end of the night, youâd have a fair share of everyoneâs wardrobe into yours.
Still, you hope to the very bottom of your heart that the âowlbearâ that stole your clothes had a full tummy, at least.
#bg3#baldur's gate 3#baldurs gate 3#bg3 x reader#baldurs gate 3 x reader#baldur's gate 3 x reader#astarion x reader#wyll x reader#shadowheart x reader#karlach x reader#lae'zel x reader#gale x reader#halsin x reader#tavrem#as they say#this was fun to write#this was very lame actually#sorry but its been so so so long since ive written a fic much less published it
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The night sky can only be overshadowed by a star (its star.). A star of all things, the one thing that cannot be allowed to see the night of the sky, angled to be hidden away behind dawn and dusk. The night leaves quietly (but is cursed to come back ; avoiding is just like following when an orbit is shared.)
A star can only go off explosively, spectacularly. (Then, collapsed in on itself, away from the world to see (finally part of the shadow the night cast) it seems the bare core is at peace with never bringing day back : darkness soothes.)
Gojo is like a star - bright, hot, shining. Geto is like the night sky - mysterious, deep, endless.
#how do you feel about the fact that a star can never see the night [edit : *i* feel unwell; im adding that to the post actually hah]#that end lol. Thankfully there are other stars out there... COUGHHH CouGH#« What's left over after a supernova explosion is a 'neutron star' â the collapsed core of the star â#or. if there's sufficient mass. a black hole »#-> my honest reaction : "NOOOOO YUTA DONTGET SUCKED IN [the black hole] NOOoOooO /j/j/j (ily gege(when i catch u tho?...))#overshadowed ;; overLIGHTED* in this case i guess coughg-#oh and consider this : gojo only became the sun at *honoured one* : thats when he stopped being able to see (understand. ect) geto.#i never see that as a bad thing anyways.. theyre so conplex i love them#gojo trusted geto sm unconditionally.... (geto same. i hate them actually#go be gay elsewhere cowards /j)#(death trap shonen is just not it... /j/j im patting jjk on the head rn 'ur doing great!..')#thought of more light / shadow stuff....... ugrghh#gahh analogies... yay???? (when i get started theres always more..--my best friend; hater of metaphors (both /gen and as a bit); would#likely strangle me if she were to read the bits in my stuff where i make connections (that make sense to međ„șđ„ș) and i take the#themes of whatever im trying to convey and shake them like maracass until my brain calms down#to her it may look like im microwaving 5min then airfrying then cooling then re-crispying in the oven a couple times until for her it just#looks like a burnt charcoal. : bon appĂ©tit motherfucker (-me)#(im exagerating)#(but at the same time not)#and also she loves me so shes forced to appreciate whatever comes out of my brain. (shes sooo able to match my freak i am not worried<3)#.......................i dont even like this poetic stuff that much but i always end up falling into an analogy trap ?????#and then bam thats a whole paragraph of poetic nonsense that makes sense to meâą#i need to practice writing#ill make it good good good one day#trust đ#ill find the(my) ideal balance#(watch out ao3 ! TT)#mybad ive lost control of the tags. goodday or goodnight wherever whenever you are (wow okay. day n night. bye)#zzzz zzz <- me (ciao)#i think i have too many tags. it deletes my âI LIED: HERES ANOTHER THOUGHT PROCESSâ take... TT
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Stuck like glue
Request: "I'm going to scream your domestic character joining coop on his travels from her cabin is SO good đ I was wondering if you would write something with the same character in her cabin when coop turns up from nearby having taken one too many bullets? Or maybe he's sick and needs some jet. Some hurt/comfort fluffy sweetness"
A/N: Thank you to the awesome anon who sent the idea! Maybe not AS fluffy as we wanted, but there's for sure some soft Ghoul going on in here. And, oh yeah, the reader has a dog now. No description of said dog has been given, so please imagine as you'd wish.
Tags: Fallout, Cooper Howard, Cooper Howard x F!Reader, Cooper Howard x You, Ghoul x Reader
WARNINGS: Canon-Typical language and violence, brief mentions of sexual interaction.
Summary: Your favorite Ghoul needs to be patched up after a spat with some Raiders, and you always know just how to make him feel better.
Word Count: 2.0k+
Gif credit to @elisefrost from this set
Youâre outside attempting to hang clothes to dry when you hear it.Â
The soft but distinct sound of jingling metal comes from behind your cabin. You set one hand on the pistol strapped to your thigh and walk in that direction, eyes peeled for any movement. A bark echoes the sound from your porch, and you snap at your four-legged companion in an attempt to get him to stay.Â
âTiger!â You hiss. âQuit!â
 He relents with an indignant huff and returns to the porch, while the metallic noise keeps up in a steady pattern, akin to the cadence of a slow walk. You tilt your head at the thought and eventually move the hand off your pistol; only one person would dare tread this close in broad daylight with such carelessness.
âCoop?â
You donât see him anywhere, but youâre almost certain it was the sounds of his old spurs that caught your attention.Â
âCooper if youâre tryna scare me, you know I'll gut you.â The threat is an empty one, but saying it gives you some hope that itâs indeed him and not a Raider or Slaver looking to score some loot.Â
âNo need, babydoll.â His voice sounds ragged, tired. âDonât think I could scare a bunny rabbit at the moment.âÂ
You follow his voice to your left, and find the Ghoul leaned up against a tree. Heâs practically swaying in the breeze, very apparently unsteady. You rush over just as he slides down and collides with the dirt..Â
âCooper! What happened to you?âÂ
Your hands flutter up and down his arms, brusquely checking for any injuries. Nothing obvious jumps out at you, but he heals fast and external wounds are rare. A wheeze claws its way up his throat and morphs into a hacking cough. You recognize the sound as the need for a Vial, and grab at his bag.Â
âDo you have any on you?âÂ
A stuttered cough answers. âFresh out⊠sâwhy I came here.â
Your stash of Vials had been growing just about as long as youâd known Cooper. When you traveled together, heâd hand some off to you for safekeeping, and there always ended up being extras. Upon your return home, heâd tell you to keep them. It wasnât shocking, given that he found his way back every couple of days.
âAlright, come on.â You crouch down and position yourself beneath Cooperâs arm.Â
You can tell heâs weak by the way he leans into you, knees wobbling relentlessly as you pull him up. Another round of coughing wracks his body and you squeeze him reassuringly.Â
âCouch isnât far.â You chose your words carefully, avoiding any inkling of pity. Having an already deteriorating Ghoul is enough, let alone a defensive one who hates being pitied.Â
Cooper does his best to keep up with your steps, but his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated. You can feel the heat radiating off of him through his jacket and hear him wheezing beside your ear. Stepping onto the porch gives him some trouble, but you manage to haul him up and inside the door. Tiger whines nervously, circling the pair of you as you trek inside. The Ghoul collapses onto the couch as soon as itâs within reach.Â
After making sure Cooperâs not going to slide off the couch, you continue to the med-kit in your makeshift kitchen. The Vials are hidden at the very bottom, wrapped in cloth for extra cushion to prevent shattering. You decide thereâs more than enough for him to take two, and carefully extract the mysterious chem.Â
Cooperâs laid out on his back when you return with the Vials. One arm is thrown over his eyes and the other dangling off the side of the couch with Tiger perched beneath. The dog nuzzles his favorite personâs hand for attention, and it elicits a chuckle from you. Even as the only conscious person in the room, you were still second in Tigerâs eyes.Â
âCoop.â You shake his shoulder gently. âHey. Hey. Whereâs your inhaler?â
You nudge his hat away and he blinks slowly. âMmm.â
âOk then.â You mutter and pat down his jacket, searching for the contraption he always carries. The coat yields no results, and you pat down his pants until you feel it tucked away into the pocket at his hip. âFinally.â
Cooper shuffles ever so slightly when you slip your hand into his pocket. âH-hey now. I know you love me, baby, but I-I ainât got it in me right now.â
An errant smile pushes its way onto your lips. You snap the meds into place on his inhalerÂ
âOpen up.â
He fails to heed your instructions, and you ultimately end up forcing the inhalant into his mouth. It never works instantly, but within a minute or so of administering it thereâs movement. One of Cooperâs hands lifts to cup yours, puffing on the inhaler again.Â
You release your hold on it and rock back onto the balls of your feet. Itâs then you take note of the holes in his clothing, and run a hand down his chest. Thereâs numerous holes, some as big as your finger and others no larger than a pinhead.Â
âCooper, what happened to you?â You sit on the edge of the couch beside him as he takes his first deep breath without Chems.Â
âI just turnâd in a bounty and some Raiders jumped me.â He looks down at your hand on his chest. âBastards shot me ten or eleven times. Damn buckshot got me good.â
You nod. âI can tell. You were in a bad way, Coop.â
The Ghoul sits up slowly beside you so his legs can swing off the couch. âIâll be good as new, soon as this stuff starts workinâ good.âÂ
Tiger hops up on the couch next to him, tail wagging with excitement. The dog licks your cheek on his way to Cooper and pushes his nose into the Ghoulâs shoulder. You chuckle at the interaction, patting the dogâs shoulders. Coopers are still hunched with exhaustion, and his deep-set eyes look even more so.Â
âWell until they do, you rest.â You stand, glancing out the still-ajar door. âItâs getting dark anyway.â
Cooper, as usual, opens his mouth to protest. If thereâs anything he hates, itâs feeling useless.Â
âNo arguments.â You point a finger at him. âI mean it.â
He grumbles, but relents. âFine. Only if you turn somethinâ on that olâ TV of yours.â
The television turns out to be a perfect method of relaxation. You have to remove Cooper from the couch temporarily, but wrestle it into the pullout bed form and line it with blankets. The Ghoul had given in to his exhaustion rather easily at the prospect of a comfortable bed and kicked off his boots to climb all the way in. You hung his coat on a nail by the door, but made sure to leave his guns, lasso, and assorted weapons within armâs reach. The TV played some old soap opera from before your time while you snagged a couple of hard candies- a luxury item, as the nearest settlement called them- and made to settle in.Â
Cooper had managed to prop himself against the back of the couch, feet kicked out down the length of the thin mattress. Tiger, seeking attention as per usual, is curled up against his right leg. A wet nose rests just beneath Cooperâs knee and twitches in interest when you unwrap the first candy.Â
The Ghoul might as well be a dog himself for the way his ears perk at the sound of a wrapper.Â
He watches intently as you very gracefully clamber to sit next to him. You pop the fruit-flavored candy in your mouth and scoot around until you find comfort. In this case, itâs leaned up against the Ghoul beside you, head dropping onto his shoulder. His breathing is still shallower than youâd like, but a vast improvement from where it was when heâd shown up.Â
âYou ainât gonna share?âÂ
You open your fist and offer up one of the candies. âI suppose I could. But only for you.â
A smirk twists the corners of his scarred lips. You poke at the candies and attempt to read the labels to no avail.Â
âIâd offer you a choice of flavor, butâŠâ You shrug, looking back up to your Ghoul. âSlim pickings.â
He lifts a bare hand to your chin, tilting up. âI think the pickinâs are just fine.â
You smile and lean in to meet him, lips falling into a familiar dance.The hand on your chin slides down to grip your nape and holds you firmly in place. Itâs not long before the candy is gone from your mouth. Its remnants remain, mingling with the taste of gunpowder and smoke. A few moments pass before you decide to separate
âMiss me much?â You inquire, cuddling yourself down into his side.Â
His arm raises to accommodate your body and lowers it back down to encircle your shoulders once youâre settled. âI always miss you darlinâ. For a variety of reasons.â
You hum softly, âYeah? Whyâs that?â
Cooperâs hand trails up and down your arm, leaving wide trails of gooseflesh. âWell, the main one happens to be the lack of entertainment.â
You scoff. âIâm your entertainment?â
âFuck yeah, you are. âSpecially when youâre hollerinâ at scavengers and shootinâ anything that moves.â The Ghoul chuckles to himself. âOr trippinâ over a sleeping yao guai.â
You shove him playfully. âThat was one time, and I shot it dead anyway.â
Cooper pulls you towards him, and you shift until youâre between his legs, back pressed against his chest. âThat you did, sweetheart. I ainât forgot.â
He grabs the nearest blanket and tosses it over your entangled bodies. You curl to the side and rest your cheek to his chest. Tiger shuffles his body with a huff, apparently frustrated with the lack of attention.
âWhat would you do without me?â You tap his chest gently, relishing in the warmth he produces. âOther than get eaten by a yao guai?â
The Ghoul scratches Tigerâs head. âProlly go feral. Chase around some folk to scare emâ.â
You know heâs joking, but the thought of losing him to ferality scares you to no end. Particularly since heâs just shown up on deathâs door and almost hacked a lung onto your floor.
âDonât say that.â You lift your head to catch his eye. âPlease.â
Cooper may be a gruff old Ghoul with a dreadful outlook on the world, but he softens ever so slightly at your words.
âYou know I donât mean it, sugar. Youâre stuck with me, whether you like it or not.â
Two scarred fingers hook beneath your jaw and pull you back up to his lips. Itâs tame at first, but the Cooper you know wastes no time making an appearance. His teeth nip at your lip gently and one rough hand slides up your side until it cups your breast. You press into him eagerly, climbing upwards until your thighs slot around either side of his hips. He responds by grinding them into you, delicious friction warming you from head to toe. Â
Tiger decides heâs disgusted at this point, and hops off the couch with a comical groan.
Unbothered, one of your hands latches onto the lasso that is tossed on top of his pile of weapons. You loop it around his neck, gripping either side of the rope and pulling him in. Cooper smirks against your mouth.Â
âOh I love being stuck with you, Cowpoke.â You whisper against his mouth, earning yourself a quick bite to the bottom lip.
The Ghoul grins and quickly shows how much strength heâs regained by reversing your positions. He snatches the rope faster than you can react, and wraps the fingers of one hand loosely around the column of your throat. Thereâs just enough pressure to shoot a pang of arousal between your legs. Cooper knows youâre squirming, and presses a knee there to relieve some of the ache.Â
âGlad tâhear it.â He murmurs into your neck, ââCause I sure as hell ainât goinâ nowhere.â
And you wouldnât have it any other way.
-------------------
thanks for reading, much love â€
Read More: Fallout Masterlist
#Cooper Howard#Cooper Howard x You#Ghoul x Reader#fallout imagine#cooper howard#cooper howard x reader#cooper howard x you#cooper howard x f!reader#The Ghoul x Reader#the Ghoul x you#cooper howard x oc#fallout tv series#lucy maclean#walton goggins#fallout fiends#possessive!cooper howard#fallout#fallout 4#fallout new vegas#ghouls deserve love too#the ghoul
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calculated risk (but boy am i bad at math) (sylus x mc) (nsfw)
wc: 4.3k rating: E warnings: NSFW content, dirty talk, blowjobs, skull fucking, orgasm denial, slight spanking (ass and pussy) brief: you lose a bet to sylus and you have to do whatever he wants for 24 hours // part 2 here
It starts, as most things do with Sylus, an incredibly poor decision on your part.Â
It canât be helpedâwhen Sylus smirks at you, one eyebrow raised as he gives you a challenging look, you know itâs only going to end in either one of both ways. You taking him up on the bet, or the both of you in a training room with you trying your damned best to figure out how many bones of his you can break.
This time, he hadnât even disclosed what the prize would be. âPatience, dollface,â he murmured when you told him to lay the terms out upfront. âIsnât it fun when you donât know everything?â
âAnd I suppose itâs fun for you to keep me in the dark?â Control freak, you thought to yourself, but the bet was simple and there was no way you would lose.Â
Sylus had shrugged, spreading his hands in a helpless pretense.Â
It didnât matter. You were confident. You were going to win.
==
âI gotta go with A,â Luke says slowly, smacking his lips as he speaks. âI like the spices. No clue whatâs in it thoughâpepper, and er, Iâm going to go with cinnamon? Or something similar?â
You could strangle him. Who the fuck puts cinnamon in tomato and eggs? You didnât even see Sylus go near that section of the spice cabinet.Â
âDo you even know what cinnamon tastes like?â You canât help but ask.Â
Luke licks his lips again. âYeah, I ate a whole spoonful of cinnamon once because Kieran dared me to, and I was out of it for days. Boss got really mad, haha, remember that?â
Sylus sighs, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. âHe choked,â he says unhelpfully when you look to him for more information.Â
âHe exhaled cinnamon for what felt like hours after that,â Kieran notes from the side. âI wanted to get a scan of his lungs to see how tainted from cinnamon they were, but Boss grounded us.â
âAnyways, it may not be cinnamon, but itâs definitely a c-something,â Luke declares confidently. âI like it. A is the winner for me.â
âCilantro,â Kieran tells him. You canât read his expression through the fox mask, but you like to think heâs rolling his eyes. Thereâs exasperation in his voice that reeks of an older brother forced to reckon with the stupidity of a younger sibling, an unstoppable force crashing headfirst into an immovable object.Â
Luke snaps his fingers, leaning forward to spoon another mouth of scrambled egg into his mouth. âItâs good. Who made this one?â
âI have to vote first,â Kieran reminds him. âBut Iâll go with A too. Itâs saltier. I prefer things with a stronger taste.â
âHm.â Sylus turns to look at you, cocking his head. âIt appears we have a unanimous decision. Our fear of needing a tie-breaker game didnât even materialise.â
You stay silent. Your arms are folded across your chest, and you get the errant thought of whether you could stamp on his shoe hard enough to break his big toe. Probably not, but giving up without even trying is a defeatist attitude.Â
âWoah,â Luke says, looking furiously between the both of you. âBoss made this?â
Kieran suddenly goes very silent. He brings a fist up to his mouth and starts coughing lightly, but he also resembles a cat attempting to cough up a hairball.
âI did,â Sylus replies, looking quite pleased. âSurprised?â
âEr,â Luke says simply. âEr, congrats. Kieran, do you know how to perform the Heimlich manoeuvre?â
Kieran coughs again. âIâll do it on you if you do it on me first.â
âDeal.â Luke hurries to stand, his chair screeching against the floorboards from the strength of his push. âCan we excuse ourselves? Our role here is done, right?â
Sylus jerks his head at the exit, and the both of them scramble to the door. As they leave, you think you can hear Luke mutter something that sounds like âI didnât know I would like soapy eggs, but thereâs a first for everything, right?â
Kieran shoves him in the shoulder in response as they both leave. And Kieran goes to great pains to ensure the door is closed, firmly, behind him.Â
âLet me try that,â you demand, reaching for Lukeâs chopsticks left on the edge of the plate.Â
A strand of twisting red energy wraps around your wrist, yanking it to a stop.
âThere are clean chopsticks,â Sylus chides. From across the kitchen, a covered bowl and a pair of chopsticks are brought over by tendrils of red and black energy.Â
He leans back, hips pressed against the counter as he collects the bowl and chopsticks. The lid lifts of its own accord and floats over to rest on the nearby countertop.Â
Sylus picks up a piece of egg and holds it out to you.
â⊠You made a separate serving for me?âÂ
âI had my suspicions. If I won, you would have demanded a taste test to ensure I didnât rig the competition.â Sylus tilts his head, as if daring you to disagree. âWas I right?â
Instead of answering, you lean forward to take the piece of egg into your mouth. Your lips close around the end of the chopsticks, and you stay like that for a moment, looking up at Sylus from under your eyelashes.Â
Sylusâ gaze deepens.Â
You pull off, leaving the chopsticks wet with your saliva as you chew on the food in your mouth. Itâs good. Pretty good. Salty, but in a good way. It would go excellently with a fresh bowl of rice.
Youâre actually kind of irritated. Why is Sylus good at making scrambled eggs and tomato? Did he pencil that into his busy scheduleâillicit trading activities at 10 am, cooking lessons at 12 pm, a shoot out in a back alleyway at 3 pm, and prowling the streets of the N109 Zone from 11 pm to 4 am like some kind of avenger?
âItâs not bad,â you admit mulishly. âBut itâs not better than my cooking. Iâd say itâs at the same level.â
âCrowd opinion begs to differ. Thereâs no shame in losing to someone better, sweetie.â
Oh, youâve just about had it with him. But a bet is a bet, and Sylus won without any obvious cheats. Luke enjoying the soapy taste of cilantro is something you could never have predicted; if Sylus used this fact to his advantage, you canât even hold a grudge against him. You would have done the same.
âGive me that,â you say, holding a hand out for the bowl and chopsticks. âSo, whatâs the prize?â
Sylus doesnât hand you the bowl immediately. He puts the chopsticks into his mouth, licking them clean before dipping them into the bowl again and picking out another piece of egg. He holds it out.
You lean forward, of course, lips parted as you expect him to feed it to you.
Instead, he turns the chopsticks around and places the egg into his mouth. He hums as he chews on it, nodding like heâs pleased at the taste.Â
You snap your jaw shut. You give him a dirty look, pressing forward to brace your palms against the countertop, on either side of his hips. Like this, heâs trapped.Â
Your chest is pressed up against him. Your hips align with his. You go on the balls of your feet, forcing him to lift the bowl and chopsticks higher so he doesnât hit you in the face.
âYou think youâre so funny,â you grumble, staring him down. âBet, reward, now. Tell me what it is so I can be mentally prepared.â
Sylus doesnât respond at first. He glances down at you, amusement written all over his face, and lets go of the bowl. Strands of energy catch it, bringing it to rest on the counter behind him. The chopsticks are brought along as well, leaving him empty handed.
âYouâre standing in a dangerous position.â He puts the knuckle of his index finger under your chin to tilt your head up. âIf you offer yourself up like this, Iâll take advantage.â
He tilts his hips forward, rolling intently against your abdomen. The prominent bulge presses into your lower stomach, right above where your womb is, and you flush scarlet.
You move to pull back, but Sylus moves one hand lightning fast, reaching behind to cup the curve of your ass and pressing you even tighter against the hard line of his arousal through his slacks.
He even squeezes, eyebrows rising in a challenging fashion as he waits to see how youâll respond.Â
You know he just wants to get a rise out of you. Unfortunately, itâs working. Your insides clench uncontrollably, wanting to cling tightly to something.Â
Somehow, Sylus always succeeds at making you feel empty.
âAs if you donât take advantage on the daily.â You shift your stance until your thighs are spread around Sylusâs leg. He watches you adjust yourself, that mildly interested look affixed on his face as you straddle his thigh.Â
Once youâre satisfied, you roll your hips forward, grinding down on the thick thigh to put pressure against your core. Itâs a syrupy heat, starting from your tailbone and crawling up your spine. You press further into Sylusâs growing hardness, and he lets out a pleasant hum, tilting his head back to soak in the weight against his cock.
His fingers tighten against your ass. His grip is heavy, holding you tightly enough that you wonder if theyâll leave bruises against your skin. Five pretty bruises, black and blue on your ass.Â
âHarder,â he coaxes hoarsely. âYou can do better than that. What are they teaching Hunters these days?â
Your thighs squeeze threateningly around him. But that puts pressure on your clit, making pleasure surge deliciously inside you and you do it againâSylus seems to catch on and he pulls you along the length of his thigh with the hand on your ass.
âDefinitely not how to ride the unspoken ruler of the N109 Zone,â you shoot back breathlessly.
He lets out a startled laugh. âYou flatter me, sweetie.â
âStop evading the question,â you remind him, even as you steadily roll your hips against his thigh. Slow, regular grinds as you rub your cunt against his pants. You wonder if your pussy is wet enough to leak through your panties. You wonder if your panties are drenched, sticking to your thighs. You wonder if youâre making his pants damp, and whether he can feel it leaking through to his skin.
Judging from the way he suddenly grips your ass with more force at a particularly smooth slide, you think he might.Â
âRemind me, what question were we speaking of?â
âBet. Reward.â You slide one hand across his abdomen, stopping right over his belt buckle. The nail of your index finger catches against the metalâthis isnât the first time youâve wished you had some kind of Evol that involved the manipulation of metal. âWant me to go on my knees?â
The pad of his thumb smooths over your lower lip.Â
âShould I put this cute mouth to good use? I think I should,â Sylus murmurs, eyes half-lidded as he looks down at you. âBut letâs talk about the bet first. The reward is simple.â
His other hand skates lightly along your outer thigh. Light as a feather, his fingers skimming along your skin so gently that it makes you itch. You almost want him to press hard, the same way heâs gripping your ass, instead of this light, itchy sensation spreading across your body.Â
His fingers creep up, running under the hem of your dress. They trace the edge of your panties, nails scratching faintly against the cotton.Â
âI get to do whatever I want with you for the next twenty-four hours,â he says, voice curling with satisfaction. His eyes are creased slightly, the smile sinking through his gaze. As if to drive his point home, he pointedly looks you up and down, dragging his gaze over every inch of your body.Â
Heâs lucky. If you were still clear-headed, you would have scoffed and told him to change the bet. Sylus might have convinced you after a while, but it would have taken time. At least half an hour of convincing, you reckon, with lips on your neck and fingers down your panties to get you worked up enough to say yes to a bet as insane as that.
Twenty-four hours? To do whatever he wants?Â
Now, with your drenched pussy and your throbbing clit, both just begging for attention from himâthis plan sounds pretty good. With the way his fingers playfully run across your panties, the tip of his thumb glancing off your swollen clit then darting away, as if it was an accident, as if he didnât intend to do that, when you both know damn well heâs very acquainted with your clitâ
âGo on,â you gasp, chasing after his sly fingers. Pressure, you need more pressure. If he squeezes your clit between his fingers, even through the wet cotton of your panties, it might be enough. âWhat do you want me to do?â
âChoices, choices. That mouth looks hungry for something, doesnât it?â He presses his thumb into your clit harshly, making your body jerk at the sudden burst of electricity that surges through you. Sylus rubs it languidly, watching you shiver on his thigh, then he draws that hand away and brings it to his face.Â
You watch, pupils dilated and mouth open as he lifts his thumb to his nose and inhales deeply. His eyes flutter shut, lips parting as he rubs the pad of his thumb on his tongue. Behind you, his other hand flexes, tightening his hold on your ass.Â
âMm,â he hums, slowly opening his eyes to look at you. âDelicious as always, sweetie. Youâve completely wet your panties.â
âSylus,â you whine, pulling insistently at his belt. âTell me what you want, or Iâll just do whatever I want to do.â
âHow naughty. Thinking of breaking the rules of the bet this early?â His hand leaves your ass and you almost move to slide off, but thereâs a sudden sharp sound and a stinging painâyour cheeks turn red at how that spank made your insides tighten up. âOn your knees, dollface. Show me what that talented mouth of yours can do.âÂ
You go, the tips of your ears blushing when you see the blatant wet spot on his slacks your greedy pussy left on him.
==
Sylus uses your mouth like a fleshlight. All you have to do is sit there and look pretty, mouth open and wet, teeth hidden behind your lips as he holds your head in place and fucks into your mouth. Saliva pools in your mouth, your tongue numb from how loose youâre trying to keep your muscles. You just need to be there, fingers locked around Sylusâ ankles, knees spread on the ground and your arousal dripping on the floorboardsâ
âGood girl,â Sylus croons, head tilting back to expose the long line of his neck as his hips snap forward. âSo fucking obedient for me, arenât you? Tongue out, sweetie, let my cock slide right inâmmhmm, thatâs right, you know what I like, donât you?â
His fingers are tangled in your hair. Thereâs no gentleness in the way he holds you thereâhis grip on your hair is tight, your strands circling his fingers at least twice. Heâd stroked your hair right at the beginning, when you were sliding to your knees and dragging the zipper of his pants down with your teeth. Then heâd wound your hair around four of his fingers once, twice, twisting his wrist, pulling sharply so youâd feel the strain at your scalp as you licked up the length of his cock.Â
Heâd told you to clean it up, so you did. You flattened your tongue along the thick line of his cock and you dragged it up, eyelashes fluttering as you traced the fat protruding vein under the head of his cock. You got his cock nice and slick, shiny from spit and precum.Â
And now heâs fucking into your mouth, salty precum dripping down your throat as your cunt clenches around nothing. He grunts, a low punched-out sound that makes your clit throb. Youâre the reason he looks so disheveled, sleeves rolled up messily to his elbows, slacks pulled open just enough for you to slip his cock out and suck on itâ
The worst thing about Sylus, you think in a haze, the heavy weight of a fat cock in your mouth so all-encompassing that you donât have many brain cells left for clear thought, is that he loves to talk. He canât keep his fucking mouth shut, especially during sex.Â
âLook at you,â he pants, voice gravelly from arousal. His thrusts are becoming more haphazard, losing the regularity from seconds ago. Thereâs a familiar stutter and his cock pulses on your tongue, the fat head going so far down your throat you almost seize up, but you hold it back. You can take it. You want to take it. âDo you want it in your throat or on your face?â
You make a noise, the sound muffled from Sylusâ cock. He laughs, a breathless sound, and the ache in your scalp intensifies. Oh, heâs close.Â
âYouâll have to speak up, dollface.â
The whine that leaves your lips is louder this time, your fingers tightening around Sylusâ ankles. If your nails dig into the skin, leaving trails of scratch marks, all it does is make Sylus groan, hips jerking as he slams into your throat.Â
âHm, I canât hear you,â he notes, eyes glinting as he looks down at you. âBut it doesnât matter, does it? You have to take whatever I give you, sweetie. Open that throat up for me, nice and prettyângh, fuckââ
You bare your teeth just enough to scrape the underside of Sylusâ cock. Heâs not afraid to mix his pain with his pleasure, and the sting of teeth biting at his sensitive length while he fucks into your face is something heâs told you is addictive. You know he likes it. You know it makes him tremble, and you see it in his crimson eye when he hunches over, abdomen tightening as his cock twitches.Â
âClose,â he growls through gritted teeth. âSuck on it, sweetie. You have to work for the reward you want. I donâtâhaaah, fuck, I donât give handouts.â
You obey, eyes closing instinctively as you suck on his cock. His cock is leaking badly, precum sliding down your throat. You swear you can feel the head of his cock all the way down, right to the base of your throat, right at your clavicle. It truly feels like heâs hitting it that deep, bruising the insides of your mouth and throat until you wonât be able to eat right or breathe right for days.Â
You swallow desperately, throat working furiously around the head of his cock, that tight wet heat that drives him crazy, and he bites out a curse as his hips jerk forward, cock throbbing as come spills into your mouth.Â
He doesnât let up. He keeps fucking into your mouth, hips pumping as he slides his cock back and forth on your tongue. You suck at his cock, swallowing mouthful and mouthful of come down your throat. Your entire world narrows to a pinpoint, to the grounding weight of his pulsing cock on your tongue, the ache in your mouth, the sting of your scalpâthere might be tears in your eyes, or sweat from overexertion, but your vision is blurry when you look up and watch Sylus watch you.Â
Sylus watches you with hooded eyes, mouth open as he pants for air. His lips curve up when he sees you open your eyes, looking down at you with a pleased expression while he rides out the aftershocks in your wet mouth.Â
âHow obedient,â he says, breathing heavily as he lets one hand go and moves to stroke the side of your mouth with his thumb. He cups your jaw, wiping away a trail of spit from your lips, then reaches down to follow the outline of his cock in your throat. âSwallow.â
You swallow, and his eyes darken as your throat bobs around his cock. He must be able to feel it on both endsâhis cock, trapped in that endless wet heat; his fingers, feeling the movement of your muscles under your skin, feeling his heartbeat in his cock through your throat.Â
He continues fucking your mouth until the spurts of come finally taper off. Even then, he seems content to let his cock stay in your mouth, rubbing along the textured roof of your mouth and against the scrape of your teeth.Â
Eventually, he pulls back. Sylusâ cock leaves your lips, inch by inch, until his back is against the counter again and only the tip of his cock is left in your mouth.
You canât help it. Now that thereâs more space, you move your tongue instinctively, curving it along the over-sensitive head of his cock and licking into the slit.Â
Your eyes are trained carefully on Sylusâ face as you do this. He shudders, lips spreading in a smile even as his grip tightens in your hair.Â
He gives you this look, half-lidded eyes and a lazy, satisfied smile as you mouth at his cock.Â
âGood girl,â he says hoarsely, pulling your hair until your mouth slides off his cock. It bobs in front of you, still half-hard, and you risk your luck with lapping at the fat cockhead.Â
Sylus stops you by yanking your head back even further. He pulls up, forcing you to your feet, then he unwinds his fingers and smooths your hair down.Â
You pant lightly, trying to get your breathing under control. Your mouth feels like one big bruise, and you clear your throat before even attempting to speak. Your voice is going to sound completely fucked, you know, and some part of you revels in it. That youâll walk around sounding like someone just brutalised your throat, because someone did.Â
Sylus doesnât do anything. He just stands there, the long line of his body stretching out before you as he drops one hand to cup your waist. You eye him, then eye the slowly growing stiffness of his cockâwhen you look back up, he has that familiar, smug challenging look on his face, like he wants to see what youâll do next.Â
Oh, you know what you want. You take his free hand and bring it under the rucked up hem of your dress. Your panties are sticky with arousal, and youâre certain you leaked enough fluid for his cock to slide in without any stretching, but you like fingers in your cunt. You like Sylusâ fingers in your cunt, specifically.Â
Thick and callused fingers, broad enough that two of them feel like four of yours. You like the way they can hunt down that sensitive spot inside you with deadly precision, and you like the way he taps insistently at it like heâs pulling a trigger on a target. You like it when he crooks his fingers inside you and finger you stupid while his thumb flicks insistently at your clit.Â
You even pull your drenched panties to the side so Sylus can slip his fingers in. Youâre being so accommodating, so sweet and nice and obedient, all hopped up on endorphins from having a cock in your mouth and watching Sylus comeâ
He runs his index and middle finger through the seam of your pussy, gathering up your sticky wetness. He reaches up to pinch your clit, finding it with shocking accuracy even though his hand is hidden beneath your skirt, and you let out a surprised moan, your knees shaking from the pleasure that bursts inside you. You are going over the edge the moment he sinks those clever fingers inside you, you just know it.
But he draws his hand away. Youâre so shocked that you let him do it, let him pull his hand away and bring it to his face again, almost an exact copy of what happened earlier. You watch, pussy clenching around nothing as he presses those two fingers together and pulls them apart, letting thin silvery strands of your arousal stretch in between the fingertips.Â
Sylus rubs them together again, then puts those fingers in his mouth. He looks at you, holding your gaze as he sucks on them, throat visibly moving as he swallows.Â
âSweet,â he notes, nodding in approval. âA sample before the main course.â
You stare blankly at him. Your clit is throbbing, desperate for attention. âSylus,â you demand, reaching for his hand again. âI wantââ
âI know what you want.â His hand cups your exposed pussy. His palm is hot, heat radiating off his skin as he rubs slowly along your slick cunt. âBut for the next twenty-four hours, youâre at my mercy.â
He slaps your pussy, so suddenly that it makes you yelp, both hands reaching out to grip his bicep in a bid to stabilise yourself. It stings, so pleasantly that it makes your clit tingleâyou want more of it, more of everything and anything, as long as he makes you come. Youâre so close itâs not even funny. One more slap could push you over the edge, as long as he does it hard enough and right across your twitching, swollen clitâ
âGo take a shower,â Sylus suggests, eyes dark as he stares you down. âIâll find you when I want to, dollface.â
âYouâ!âÂ
His smirk just makes the heat in your gut flare up. You want nothing more than to push him on his back and straddle that face, wipe that smile off with your cunt and force him to eat you out until youâre shaking from overstimulation and crying over his tongue.Â
But a bet is a bet. And you respect the sanctity of a reward, even if it frustrates you to no end.Â
âYou are infuriating,â you hiss, and stalk off to find a change of clothes.
==
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tee and hee-ing đŠ
#gilver's retconned canonicity is very amusing to me so i think i will sprinkle a gilver jumpscare into gioia's story too#during gioia's fun little coma i think the krill try to get back to her many times but fail because two Very Dedicated devil hunters are#standing vigil over her + think the krill are after her soul for revenge or power etc etc. but case in point they are like a sad and#pathetic cat whose stuck outside a door while gioia's â°ïž. when she finally comes toâ merle shakes her down about the whole situation and#asks about vergil when he comes up etc etc. gioia is understandably sad that vergil hasn't showed up and the krill are like đ because#Finally. They Have an In. so i think they have a goofy cartoon montage where they nab someone's coat/boots/etc. that people have left out +#a bunch of bandages from a shipment for eileen. i think they have a few gag shots where they try to voltron into a Human Form#and are like goddamn this sucksâŒïžâŒïž đđ because they are used to acting like one. but being bound up in a vaguely human form and forced to#be so close quarters with each other.. it is Unnatural!!! :( but they hobble their way to eileen's clinic in The Fit + the elected#Speaker of the Krill is like. hello it is i vergil *cough* im looking for a devil hunter yay high.. yadda yadda.. i am a human demon and#not a demon demon we.. iâŒïžâŒïž prommie đïžđïžđ€đ»#and merle is like đïžđïž.... đ€š..đ§... đ; because all she knows about Vergil is that he's kind of ominous. part demon.. he wears a coat..#and you know the bandages are really suspicious BUT considering the state gioia was in when their paths crossedâ maybe this vergil guy got#really fucked up in the collapse of the labyrinth too?.. but if he's all bandaged up he shouldn't be moving around right? ah but he's part#demon so maybe he heals differently?.. well even if notâ its pretty sweet he'd go searching for gioia in this state and ouuuwagh Merle is a#Sucker for Romance so. babygirl she falls for it she FALLS for the 500 Krill in a Trenchcoat trick. she comes into the room like ms. gioia#there's someone here to see youâŒïžđłđ€âșïž and lets verkrill in + gives them space because wauuw lovers united.. just like her and eileen!!#when the door shuts Gioia is like đ... đ... đïžâđïž.. what the fuck is this. because it is CLEARLY not Vergil yo?? and as soon as she#asksâ the krill explode from the bandages (and thank god because they couldn't stand that a moment longer!!) all like WAHHHH BOSSS WE#MISSED YOU WE THOUGHT YOU DIED WAHWAHWAH đđđđŠđŠđŠâŒïžâŒïžâŒïžand gioia is a little disappointed it Wasn't Actually Vergil but she lets it#slide because she thought the krill would disappear with the labyrinth and disperse on the winds! so she's very touched they returned to#her even after the grounds of their contract are fulfilled. and that's the dumb goofy gilver jumpscare moment:] gioia needed more#funnystupid moments in her narrative and this is a little too on-the-nose silly for me to abandon đđ#sriracha.txt#nero prime#live krill reaction
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i am living for some angst đ
especially some satoru angst
Hold me. Console me.
Tags: Satoru x fem!Reader, angst, hurt/comfort, depictions of poor mental health, depiction of a panic attack, Satoruâs a little bit of an asshole here.
An: Same⊠same. Before you read this and blame me for how fucked this story is, know that one of my moots (cough. cough. @theuniversesnepobaby cough.) was sending me sad angsty edits last night. this is partially her fault too.
Satoru was normally a very doting and attentive boyfriend. Heâs the type to beg to be in your presence. Heâd kill to feel your touch against his skin. âCasualâ isnât a word in his dictionary. When he loves, he loves loudly.
So when he got quiet with his love, your body started to fill with a sense of dread. Cold and bitter feelings crawled their way between you two. No longer did you two laugh until you were out of breath and red in the face. No longer did he surprise you with gifts or try to scare you when youâre unaware of his presence.
His strong arms hadnât wrapped around you in so long. The ruthless chill of being utterly alone plagued you, while Satoru seemed fine. He was even taking on extra hours at his job. So many nights he didnât come back until nearly midnight.
How could he not see whatâs happening? How could he not notice how much youâre drowning?
âIâm going out.â His words are flat with no care put into them. Heâs telling you because he feels as if itâs obligatory â not because he doesnât want you to worry.
âWhere are you going?â So many times have you tried to reach out. It was as if you two were passing back and forth a candle of your relationship. You had ignited the flame and passed it to him so many times, but each time, he snuffs it out without a second thought â leaving you in the dark. Maybe one more time, you metaphorically light the candle in hopes to kinder your relationshipâŠ
âOut.â Flame snuffed.
âOh.â Heâs done it so many times, but it hurts just as bad each and every time. Being single wouldnât hurt this bad. At least you wouldnât be getting rejected by your own boyfriend on a daily basis.
âSee ya.â He doesnât even give you a second glance as he grabs his coat and saunters out the door. Another night spent alone. Another night filled with a barely eaten tv dinner and a shitty reality tv show droning on in the back while you doomscroll on your phone.
You two use to watch these reality tv shows together and laugh at the ridiculousness of it all. Satoru would hold you so close to his body, and heâd whine anytime you tried to adjust. When was the last time that happened? You never suspected the end of affectionate gestures would come while you two were still in a relationship.
You check Getoâs story on instagram. Sometimes, youâd catch small glimpses of Satoru in the back. Sometimes they were at a cafe or an arcade together. Tonight, it seemed as though Suguru was at very packed party scene.
You hold your breath in your lungs as you rewatch the story again and again â searching for a white head of hair. Your boyfriend makes it too easy for you to stalk him. Though, it feels like a fitting punishment for the turmoil heâs put you through.
No Satoru in sight. You sigh quietly before you check Shokoâs story. It was less likely that Satoru would be captured there, but he has made his appearances in the past. It seemed like tonight Shoko wasnât present at whatever rager Suguru was at. She posted a picture of her beautifully written notes. She must be studying.
Nanami never posts on his story, so you donât even bother going to check his barren profile. Haibara never features Satoru in his stories, so you skip his as well. This leaves you with one last option.
Your hand is a little shaky as you click on Utahimeâs story. You donât know when it started, but your cheeks and ears were wet with tears already. Your body had some sort of sick sixth sense for knowing when something was wrong, and something was terribly wrong.
You had always had your little insecurities about Utahime ever since Satoru indulged that he had a small crush on her back in high school. Of course, these were just fleeting thoughts. Up until recently, you knew with full confidence that you had Satoruâs heart. He wouldnât stray from you. ïżŒ
You didnât have that same confidence anymore. Satoru had withdrawn, and it seemed as if he took his heart with him.
You hate being right. You wish you were wrong sometimes. On Utahimeâs story, sheâs seemingly at the same party that Suguruâs at. Her story is littered with pictures of her with other girls that you donât recognize, videos of the loud music and people dancing in a crowd, and thereâs just one last video on her story that makes your heart sink to your stomach.
Your boyfriendâs pretty blue eyes illuminated by the flash from her back camera. He smiled and laughed as Utahime filmed him. His face was littered with wine red lipstick kiss marks. Utahime had a grab on your boyfriendâs collar, obviously trying to hold his drunk self still while she filmed his crime.
It felt like a punch straight to your gut. You couldnât even think straight, but you knew you needed to keep this evidence in case she deletes it. Your fingers shakily screenshot the story, logging the picture of Satoru covered in someone elseâs affections.
He was out there feeling an overwhelming sense of happiness, receiving kisses from another, dancing to his heartâs content, and enjoying his life while you were sat at home weeping over the loss of your boyfriend.
The tv dinner, now cold and stale, was thrown into the garbage, and whatever little bit you had eaten came up soon after.
The picture was seared into your memory. You didnât have to look at it to know every minor detail. The way his white hair was messy. His glasses were pulled down ever so slightly to reveal his devastatingly beautiful eyes. His coat hung on his shoulders while his muscular neck peaked out from his shirt.
Every time you closed your eyes, you thought about how many kiss marks he had on his face. How many times had he allowed himself to cheat on you? Was this the first time? Had it gone farther than this? Was it Utahime or some other girl?
You cried yourself to sleep, knowing that Satoru wouldnât even come home to try to console you.
The next morning, you were disappointed as soon as you woke up. You wished sleep wouldâve taken your body and whisked it away far, far from here. Instead, youâre still in your bed, sleeping on a pillow that was stained from your mascara.
If you could, youâd rot in bed all day and try to forget the godforsaken video you saw last night, but you had to make a trip to the restroom.
Forcing your weak body out of bed, you let out a small pained moan. You havenât eaten a proper meal in so long, and you threw up whatever you did eat yesterday. Your appetite was completely diminished. Satoru use to say that food tasted better when it was shared. He always shared his meals with you, unbeknownst to him, helping you maintain a good schedule for eating.
Your apartment was too bright when you stepped out of the bathroom, and it smelled too much of food. The sizzling on the stove finally caught your drowsy attention.
The man of the hour, Satoru, was at your stove, shirtless and cooking something. Sleeping pants casually hung around his hips, and the dimples at the bottom of his back were so graciously being shown off. Did someone else know about those two little dimples? Even though back was facing you, you could already picture his face, littered with those stupid kiss marks.
Making a b-line for the bathroom, Satoru doesnât even get the chance to greet you. Your hands were cold and clammy as your body uncontrollably heaved over the toilet. You had nothing left to give, but Satoru was taking everything from you.
Hot tears burned your cheeks as they slipped down your face. You didnât want to do this. You wished you wouldâve never saw that fucking video last night. You shouldâve given yourself plausible deniability, but now, you had to face the music.
You slowly returned back to the kitchen after trying your best to clean yourself up. Your eyes focused on Satoru. He was finishing up cooking bacon when his eyes finally met yours and drove daggers through your heart.
âGood morning, sweetness. Something wrong?â He asks with so much care in his tone. You fantasize about hitting him â just once. How dare he suddenly care when you have to check out?
You donât even know what to say to him. Like, yes, something is clearly fucking wrong, Satoru. Iâm dating an unfaithful jerk.
âWhat are you doing here?â You ask bluntly, wiping your face of the remnants of tears and makeup that had stained your skin. He shouldnât be allowed to see how badly he hurt you.
âI⊠live here?â He responds in a questioning tone, furrowing his white eyebrows as he studies your face. âAre you okay?â If only he had asked that question weeks ago, then maybe you two wouldnât be in this mess today.
âNo, and you donât live here anymore.â You snap, causing him to slightly flinch back â not out of fear but out of surprise. Heâs never seen you like this before.
âWhat do you mean, sweetness? I-â
âCut the shit, Gojo. Donât act stupid with me. Itâs unbecoming.â You interrupt him completely, not wanting to hear him try to act innocent when you have all the proof you need on your phone.
âWoah. I donât know whatâs wrong, but I donât really appreciate the insult and the use of my government name. I genuinely have no idea of what youâre talking about.â His voice is firm, laced with sternness, so you can see that heâs not playing around with you.
You take a deep breath until your lungs burn. You want to scream at him, chase him out of the house, and light his shit on fire. Instead, you silently go to retrieve your phone. Pulling up the picture of him with kiss marks all over his face, you shove the screen in his direction.
Gojo takes a few seconds to take in the photo, and he lets his shoulders drop. âThis is what youâre mad over, sweetness?â He asks in a much more calm tone, looking up at you with almost puppy dog eyes.
âDonât call me that.â You snap while swiping your phone back from his hands. âI didnât think Iâd have to spell it out for you, but weâre fucking done.â
âYou seriously believe that I would cheat on you?â He asks in that stupid arrogant tone of his, completely ignoring your blunt rejection.
âWhy else would your high school crush post a picture of you with kiss marks all over your face!? You look so fucking dumb and in love. I fucking-â Your throat chokes up as if your body was trying to stop you from saying something you didnât mean. The words âI fucking hate youâ die right there on your lips. Tears fall down your cheeks, and you place your palms over your eyes to hide yourself from his impregnable gaze.
âThis, again?â He asks in a frustrated tone before letting out an exasperated sigh, He turns the stove off - abandoning his food before walking over to you. He bends his knees a bit to get on your level. âLook at me.â He demands before his hands go to pull yours away from your eyes.
âDonât fucking touch me.â You cry out, jerking back away from his presence. Your breath speeds up. The oxygen isnât having enough time to enter your bloodstream. Your body is vibrating, forcing the air quickly from your lungs. Everything is moving so fast and why the fuck is he so close to you-? Heâs suffocating. Fuck, catch your breath. Whyhim?Whyyou?Why?Why?Whatdidyoudotodeservethis???
A gush of air is blown harshly onto your face, and you can feel the bitter cold feeling of something touching your skin. Your eyes see Satoruâs hand holding an ice cube, guiding it along your warm skin on your arm. Your body is so hot that itâs melting faster than heâs moving it.
âBreathe. Match my movements.â Satoru guides in a calm yet steady tone. Your eyes find the way his chest is slowly rising and falling with each breath. You want to tell him to go play in traffic. You donât need him to ground you. You donât need him to do anything for you. You donât need him.
Still, your body matches his slowly. Your breath becomes more stable, and you can feel your heart starting to settle into a more natural rhythm. Your bleary eyes meet his empathetic ones. Itâs been so long since your last panic attack, but he remembers just how to calm you down.
It only makes it all hurt so much worse.
âItâs almost over. Youâre doing a good job.â He takes his chances at encouraging you. It feels so sickening, more tears flee your eyes. Where had your boyfriend been, and why is he only just now back after he did the unthinkable?
âSing with me.â Itâs an odd request, but itâs something he found that grounds you better than most grounding techniques. Saying repeatable phrases in melodic tone is comforting for your mind.
âNo.â
âCome on⊠Just one time. Your favorite.â He tries again. Metaphorically, lighting the candle and passing it back to you.
You shake your head in response. Flame snuffed. How can you sing with him after what he did to you?
âCome on, don't leave me it can't be that easy, babeâ He starts with such a soft angelic voice. You fold in on yourself unable to keep the sob from escaping your throat. What method of torture is this??
âIf you believe me I guess I'll get on a plane. Fly to your city excited to see your face.â He continues, lighting that same candle. Itâs so small, barely there anymore from how many times you two have tried to relight it.
âHold me, console me and then I leave without a trace.â The ice cube has completely melted, and his hand is resting on your arm. He slowly guides you to his chest, and you indulge in his warm embrace for just one last time.
âCome on, don't leave me it can't be that easy, babe.â His chin rests on top of your head. Youâve always fit so well in his arms. Heâd always tell you that whatever higher power is out there made you specifically with him in mind.
âIf you believe me I guess I'll get on a plane. Fly to your city excited to see your face.â His skin is so warm against yours, and your tears are sticking to your chest.
âHold me, console me and then I leave without a trace.â You finally indulge him, softly joining in on his singing. His body slowly starts to guide you two into a soft subtle sway.
âCome on, don't leave me it can't be that easy, babe.â Itâs not that easy. This fucking hurts so bad. Why would your soulmate do this to you?
âIf you believe me I guess I'll get on a plane. Fly to your city excited to see your face.â You feel so pathetic â seeking out comfort from the one who hurt you this bad. If your friend could see you right now, sheâd slap some sense into you.
âHold me, console me and then I leave without a trace.â
Youâre sniffling softly into his chest, and his hand carefully pets your hair. âThose kiss marks werenât from Utahime.â He explains in a soft tone. âWe were filming a TikTok. The punchline of the joke was that Suguru and Haibara were the ones who kissed all over my face.â
You look up at him with an unsure look on your face, not understanding what he meant. Satoru carefully picks your phone up, and he clicks on Haibaraâs Instagram story from last night.
Sure enough, Haibara posted a TikTok of him, Suguru, Satoru, and Utahime. The camera points at Satoru, showing the kiss marks on his face, and the sound plays. âBro, what happened to your face? Did you do that?â The camera then pans to Utahime to which she mouths the words, âI did not do that.â The camera then pans to Haibara with smeared wine red lipstick on his lips who says, âThen, who did?â The camera is then panned towards Suguru. He also had wine red lipstick smeared on his lips. âYeah, who?â The two boys start laughing along with Satoru, and the video cuts.
It only comforts your weary heart slightly.
âIt was just a stupid TikTok⊠I shouldâve consulted you or warned you⊠done anything to respect you.â
âThis doesnât take back how awfully cold youâve been over the last few weeksâŠâ You sniffle out quietly, and Satoru nods his head knowingly.
âI know, sweetness.. I know. Iâve been terrible.â His arms squeeze you a bit tighter â frightened that he was so close to loosing you, still scared of losing you.
âThatâs not an apology⊠or even a reason.â You try to squirm from his grip, but Satoru holds you tighter.
âIâm so fucking sorry, sweetness.â He breathes out a shaky breath, and you realize the shakiness in his voice. Glancing up at him, you feel yourself clam up with the sight of tears in his eyes. Christ, his eyes are somehow even more blue when he cries. âShit got crazy at work then-â
âYou still had time to party it up with your friends. You left me without even telling me you love me.â You finally break away from his grasp. The cheating accusation was only the surface of the main problem.
âYou know I love youâŠâ His voice is small, and he wipes his eyes of the tears that are threatening to spill.
âDo I know that?â
âDonât⊠donât say that.. I love you more than life itself.â His shaky hands go to reach for you again, but you move back away from him.
âYouâre only doing this because Iâm leaving you. If I hadnât mentioned it, youâd probably still be half assed ignoring me.â You stare at him, and your eyes start to water for the nth time today.
âThatâs notâŠâ Satoru bites his tongue, and he runs a hand through his messy white hair. âI came home this morning⊠saw the uneaten tv dinner in the trash⊠Your reality tv show was still playing in the background, and I saw how you fell asleep with your makeup messed up⊠I realized then how much I neglected you⊠I planned a full day for us to enjoy each otherâs presence⊠Please, donât leave me for this. I can fix this.â
âHow did it feel to look at me everyday when I tried so fucking hard to reach you?â
âIt killed me.â He breathes out, and he tries to reach for you again. âPlease, I missed you so much. Work was just so fucking much, and I donât know why I took that out on you.â
You stare at him, and you shake your head silently. âYou should go, Gojo..â Your voice cracked as it physically pained you to tell him to leave. Your body craves him more than anything else in the world right now.
âNo, please, princess. Donât do this⊠I can fix this. Iâll do whatever it takes⊠just donât leave meâŠâ Satoruâs on his knees, literally begging you not to leave him. Tears are falling down his cheeks as he bows his head to you.
Itâs humiliating, but heâs so humiliatingly in love with you. Heâs so dead serious. Heâd do anything for you to stay with him.
âToru..â
âIâm sorry. Iâm so fucking sorry. I-I donât know why I did it. I just pulled away from you, and I donât know how it happened. Youâre the best damn thing thatâs ever happened t-to me. Please. I canât function without you.â
You stare at your boyfriend with concern as his head literally touches the floor beneath him. You donât even know what to say to him. The thought of leaving him hurts so fucking bad. It steals the breath from your lungs.
âPlease donât leave me⊠puhâŠ. please stay with me.â Heâs groveling at your feet, unable to stop the tears that escape his eyes. The thought of living in a world where you arenât his girlfriend⊠he wouldnât. Heâd be a shell of who he once was. Heâs nothing without you.
You slowly sit on the floor in front of him, and your hands stroke his soft hair gently. Satoruâs breath slows as he finally gets a grip on his emotions. He realizes just how pathetic he looks. He slowly leans up, and he looks at you. Both of you looked like complete messes, and it was all his fault.
âI donât deserve you,â He murmurs quietly. âbut please, I can make this better⊠I love you so much, sweetness⊠I wouldnât dream of ever cheating on you.â
âI donât forgive you.â Your voice is barely a whisper. The metaphorical flame is so small and shaky, but if you two both shield it from the wind, itâll be able to grow once more. âYou have a lot to prove me, Toru.â
âIâll spend every waking minute of my life fixing this. I promise you, sweets.â
and he did. Satoru went back to loving you loudly. He didnât merely shield the flame from being blown out, he fanned it himself so it grew in intensity. He was back to doting on you constantly, and he did frequent check-ins to make sure you werenât feeling neglected. He took frequent vacations from work with you. He usually took you two out on holidays to wherever your heart desired, but sometimes you two would use his vacation time to just lounge around the house and enjoy each otherâs presence.
Your confidence slowly returned to you over time. It wasnât easy by any means. It took many nights of Satoruâs consistent reassurance and overwhelming love and support for you to slowly start feeling comfortable in your relationship with him.
He put in the work, nourished your flame, and he never made you feel guilty for having a second thought because when he loves, he loves deeply. Casual is not his strong suit.
#jjk#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen#fanfic#drabble#jjk gojo#gojo satoru#gojo angst#satoru gojo#satoru angst#jjk angst#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#jujutsu satoru#jjk satoru
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writing tips - sick/poisoning fics
so since you guys ate up the injury thing like holy fuck 1.5k notes in 24 hours??? hello?? I thought I'd do a semi-related one about sickness.
disclaimer because you guys thoroughly reminded me of this: medicine is fucking weird and everybody reacts differently. this is blanket statement information, not the mayo clinic. idc that 'oh my cousin had that disease and he didn't have that symptom' okay whatever like sorry but that's not the point of this post. this is just to eliminate egregious mistakes. I'm not looking into every possible way this illness will show up. chill your tits. the comments on the last post were just like. dude. chill.
aurkay so.
poison-related illness.
okay poisoning is such a cool concept and there are literally so many cool effects it can have. Idk why everyone goes with the holy trinity of hallucinations, fainting and nausea. like yeah those are good but there are so many other things???
like internal bleeding. literally the best. I love it. It's slow but hella deadly and sometimes people can't even feel it/don't know what's happening. that's such a great option for whump or some angst. like they didn't know until it was too late. gold.
also - some poisons are not dissolvable in food or drink. Like certain medicines, they lose effectiveness if digested instead of injected intravenously. obviously you don't have to know that but if you wanna get into it, do a lil bit of research. could bring up some intriguing scenarios.
infection or sepsis
yoooo. sepsis is lowkey terrifying. infections are similar to actual illness but are caused because of an unsanitary wound. lots of interesting symptoms to browse here:
fever, cramps, fainting, hallucinations, dehydration, delirium, nausea, sores, sepsis, organ failure and on and on and on.
infection happens so fast too. like forget to change a bandage once and boom it could be infected. (is that a whump opportunity I hear...?)
sepsis is like the point of no return pretty much. Unless you've got crazy medical technology, sepsis is really really bad. basically, it's when the body overreacts and starts to damage its own tissue. leading to organ failure and then eventually death. spooky.
regular illness
this just means like a virus or something. a key point of viruses is an elevated temperature and dehydration; the body's primary responses. burn the bug out and dehydrate it.
depending on the illness, symptoms will vary. respiratory infections or viruses involve congestion, coughing, sore throats, a rattly breathing sound, and productive coughing (phlegm and mucus). Stomach illnesses include cramps, nausea, dehydration, dizziness, low blood sugar, weight loss, and diarrhea. these can overlap but mostly those are the groupings.
with fevers come achy joints and sensitive skin. fever is inflammation, like mild swelling everywhere because of how intense the antibody reaction is.
dehydration sets in really quick. really bad dehydration induces dizziness, nausea, diarrhea, delirium, lethargy, and fainting. great motivation for a whumper to possibly restrict whumpee's water intake...?
just some prompts! kinda low energy today sorry I haven't been posting, xox
#writing help#writing advice#how to write#fiction writing#creative writing#on writing#writblr#writing tips#writer#sickfic#fever whump#sickfic prompts
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Voices of Roses and Ruin
Warnings:Â Psychological torture, manipulation, Coriolanus being himself
Summary:Â Coriolanus is forced to watch the gamemaker use his voice against you in the arena.
Words:Â around 2k
Pairing: Young Coriolanus Snow x reader
A/N: I watched TBOSAS yesterday and yeah don't judge me but young Snow is hot and I shipped him and Lucy Gray a lot (until it all went downhill cough cough). Obviously he's horrible and does many unspeakable things later (!!!). But I think the idea of a love story between a mentor and their tribute has so much potential and when I saw the birds in the film I thought of this idea.
This is written from Coriolanus perspective (I haven't read the book yet. I just bought it and I'm so excited to read it!). I obviously wanted this to be about real feelings, but I tried to stay true to his character so there are some 'questionable' and alarming thoughts and motifs in here.
Can be read as Lucy Gray x Coriolanus Snow here
Part II | Masterlist
Coriolanus had thought watching you in the arena, alone and scared, hiding from a pack of murders that were hunting for your life was among the worst things he had ever gone through, but nothing could have prepared him for the Gamemakerâs new horrendous plan.
He was tired, just as you were, but refused to go home like most students had done. Instead his head was resting in his hand as he kept watching your sleeping form, as if he could protect you if he just kept his eyes on the screen and on the lookout for a potential threat.
He wouldnât be able to do anything for you, if the pack of murders found you. He couldnât warn you or give you advice.
All he could do was sit here and watch and he found himself thinking if this was not the worst torture of them all; being trapped here while you were out there and all he could do was watch.
You were trembling in your sleep, if from the cold or fear he didnât know, but he kept his expression carefully guarded as he felt his own heart breaking bits by bits.
Even there covered in dirt, with your hair a wild mess and your clothes strained with mud you looked breathtaking to him.
You were pretty, there was no denying that. Everyone else saw it too. He saw it in the way heads turned for you, menâs eyes raking over your body like you were theirs to take.
He hated it, every part of it.
They all deserved to die.
But it wasnât your looks that had drawn his attention to you. What had fascinated him. He liked to think he wasnât shallow like most people and blinded by pretty things.
No, what has drawn him to you was the way you carried yourself. The confidence you wore like an amour. Yet you were breakable at the same time.
You seemed to be made up of duality; strong but so weak, fierce but uncertain, opinionated but withdrawn, stubborn but helpless.
You were a dangerous little thing and a petite fragile flower at once. Drawing all eyes on you but forgotten due to your ordinariness by most after a moment.
Not by him though. To him you could never be ordinary.
It was frustrating and captivating and alluring.
Naturally, his constant worry for you since you had entered the arena stemmed from his will to get the scholarship. It was what he deserved and he would claim it.
Tht was why he was so engaged in saving you, not because of the deep unease he felt when he saw you in that arena, your eyes drifting around frantically until they passed a camera and he could have sworn they had locked on his for a moment.
It had nothing to do with the way his whole body seemed to light up when you smiled or the invisible pull he felt towards you when you were in the same room as him.
He definitely didnât want to kiss you and he didnât dream about you since the reaping, when his eyes had fallen on you for the first time and he had only thought one thing: Youâre mine now.
Mine to claim, to showcase, to protect.
He had gone into the mentorship thinking he would use you to serve him and his purpose of getting what he deserved, but as he watched you now, still rooted in his chair although a deep exhaustion weighted down his body, he knew he was serving you.
Being here with you every second of the way. Vowing to protect you. Whatever it took.
You awoke from your restless sleep right before the screaming started. In an instant you were up, your eyes widened in panic as you gazed around, trying to locate the source. With the rest of the students that had stayed Coriolanus flinched in his seat, leaning forward to try and help you figure this out.
As quickly as it had started the screaming stopped and for a moment you were one, both breathing and blinking heavily as your mind tried to make sense of what happened.
And then he heard a voice. His voice. âFollow me.â
He forgot to breathe for a moment as he stared at what was happening in pure shock. You seemed just as confused, turning around in circles as you tried to find him there.
âCoriolanus?â, you whispered and took a step forward, towards the voice. âFollow meâ, it whispered again and he watched you do.
No, no, no.
Around him he heard chuckles from the other students, but he drowned them out. All he could focus on was you, following his voice through the darkness. âWhere are you?â, you hissed, your eyes darting around. âWhy are you here?â
âIâm here for you.â
He sank lower in his seat, wishing himself somewhere else. It wasnât him saying the words, obviously, but it was his voice and everyone could hear it, see you follow it.
He hoped people would laugh about you. About your nativity and the brilliant idea of the gamemaker to use your mentors voice against you. Hell, he didnât even care, if they thought you might have a silly little crush on him and the gamemaker used it against you.
Because if people knew the whole truth, he couldnât imagine the catastrophe that would follow.
The truth that there was something between the two of you, the mentor and the tribute. That it was something he couldnât explain, but had let him do dangerous things. Break rules. Forget himself.
The truth that this might not be him speaking those words now, but that he had spoken them to you once. Had they been listening all this time?
His stomach twist in terror as he tried to remember all you had shared with each other, all he had said to you. Promised you.
It would ruin him.
âI canât see youâ, you whispered now, being led further into darkness.
Damn it, think! He wanted to yell at you. Itâs not me. Iâm not there.
There was no reason for him to be there.
ExceptâŠthere was.
âIâm here to see you. I wonât let anything happen to you!â
âHow cuteâ, one girl hissed in his ear, but he remained stoic. âSheâs as dumb as they comeâ, another said and he wanted to punch her. Enjoy the feeling of triumph when she looked at him in horror and didnât dare open her mouth again.
âLooks like youâre guiding her straight to her own death. How ironic.â
And it was ironic.
Maybe in his attempt to protect you, save you, all he had done was ruined your one chance.
All he had said to you to make you trust him and then because he hadnât been able to stop himself were used against you now and all he could do was watch. Keeping his face carefully blank he shut out their voices. They didnât matter.
Finally he saw you hesitate. Maybe you had remembered his exact words or maybe you realized that you werenât getting anywhere. That if it truly was him he would have just stepped out of the shadows and shown his face. âIs this real?â
Oh how funny it was to the people around him. He hated them all. Every single one.
Your words hit a mark. They pierced right through his heart, because he had said them to you. Whispered them. Before your farewell, when he had visited you one last time.
Your faces had only been separated by a few inches and he had fought the urge to kiss you right there and then. But he couldnât.
Because of everything, but also because it felt too much like goodbye. It was stupid, but if he didnât give into the temptation then, a part of him hoped it meant you would come back to him.
That your chapter wasnât over, your story just starting. He would kiss you when you won. When there was a chance for a future with you.
Still those words had escaped his mouth, like he needed the reassurance that you felt the same way. That this meant something, so much that it was worth the risk.
Coriolanus leaned forward in his seat, hope blossoming in his chest. He didnât know why whatever game they were playing with you hadnât affected the other tributes yet, but he was sure their time would come.
And right now it seemed you wouldnât fall for their tricks. Because there could come no answer to your question, as he had been the one asking it.
But he had underestimated the gamemakers.
Instead of a reply there came a scream and then a groan. âCoriolanus?â âHelp me!â, he heard himself yelp. What?! He had never sounded like that.
But then flashes came back to him. The bombs. How the arena had collapsed, almost burying him alive. He would have died there, if it hadnât been for you.
You had saved him.
But how in the hell did they get his voice now?!
âCoriolanus!â
Gone was the glimpse of hesitance and suspicion and you began sprinting into the direction the voice was coming from.
No!
He watched with dread as you ran directly towards the sound. Itâs not real, he whispered, knowing you couldnât hear him but desperately hoping somehow his words would reach you.
When you stumbled upon a clearing you jerked to a stop, twisting and turning, your gaze furiously searching for something.
âCoriolanus! Tell me where you are!â But he could only hear his own painful screams, in between pleading for your help. Sounds he was certain he had never made.
What was this?
With a stab of pain he saw your face was tearstained. You were crying. For him. For someone from the capitol.
Was this what the gamemaker wanted?
Whatever you did or said would never matter again.
All everyone would see when they looked at you now was the broken girl in a dark forest, all alone and desperate and crying for a man she never stood a chance with.
A man who knew hunger just as you did, who in a way fought for survival every day too. But they would never see that, because unlike you he wouldnât let them. Where you had no choice, he still had one. And he was watching that one chance crumble in front of him.
Flashes of a better life filled his mind.
A house. Plates of food. Tigris smiling. His uniform, a real one made from the finest materials hanging draped neatly over a chair. Laughter echoing through the corridors and then a flash of your face as you stepped into the room, wrapping your arms around his shoulders as you leaned over the desk to peek a look at what he was working on.
It was the life they deserved, he deserved, if he got the scholarship. But you were there too. Alive and well, just as breathtaking. And you were his.
There had never been the choice between the scholarship and you, because they were one. Your life was connected to it and so his was to yours.
But now he could loose both and he felt the agony of that thought travel through his whole body.
The screaming seemed to be everywhere and he watched helplessly as you bent forward, covering your ears. All he wanted was to get the screaming to stop, wrap his arms around you and tell you everything was okay.
Instead he forced a neutral expression on his face, as if seeing you break didnât break him the same way and pray for this hell to end.
Part II
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ౚৠPANIC ౚà§
masterlist / rules / requests & talks with me!
SUMMARYౚৠOscar doesnât mean to come off as a panicking first time father, but his little one is his whole world! How will that anxiety crawl up when and boil over when itâs her first Grand Prix?
PAIRING ౚৠDad!Oscar Piastri x Fem!Reader
WARNINGS ౚৠoscar is just a nervous first time dad đ
A/N ౚৠOSCAR REQUEST đŁïž, Sadie loves to terrorize Oscar, and I love that. A little menace she is.
OSCAR NEVER EXPECTED to be a father this young. He would have at least thought that heâd have a Championship, turn 25, or even get married before he had a child. But life had its own plans.
From the moment he first held her, everything else faded into the background. Racing, which had been the center of his universe, now revolved around his daughter. She was so small, so delicate, and every little noise she made sent his heart racing.
Oscar was known for being calm. Level headed. Realistic. Yet, when it came to his little girl, things changed. Drastically.
Everything was a threat. It started with the small things: a tiny cough, her first stumbles and falls when she first attempted walking, the way sheâd put everything she found into her mouth. He tried to stay calm, telling himself that every parent worried, but it never took much for that anxiety to creep up on him. A trip to the playground turned into a mental obstacle courseâevery slide was too high, every swing too fast, and the idea of her falling down onto the wood chips make his skin crawl.
And now, it was the moment many fathers in Formula One would love: to see their children watch them race. But Oscar? He was a wreck.
`· . àšà§âàčàŁ â
The night was quiet in Australia, the moonlight shining through the blinds of his parents home you both decided to stay in before the start of the Grand Prix around the corner with the chirping crickets forming their own harmony outside. With Sadie finally asleep in Oscarâs arms, a small smile tugged at your lips before you spoke.
âYou know⊠Iâve been thinking.â
Oscar glanced over softly, his eyes warm with affection. âYou? Thinking? Iâm bracing myself here.â
âHaha. Funny.â You took a deep breath, carefully choosing your words. âI was thinking⊠maybe we should take Sadie to the Australian GP. I know itâs her first one, but it could be a special experience for her. And for us. I mean, itâs your home race. Our home race.â
Oscar's fingers lightly brushed against Sadie's soft, downy hair as he shifted her gently in his arms. The quiet, tender moment was interrupted by your suggestion, and his brow furrowed slightly in concern.
â..What?â He questioned, his Aussie accent slipping through. The thought of having his little girl at the track, in the midst of the roaring engines and flashing cameras, made him feel uneasy. It wasnât the fact it was a race that concerned him but rather how unpredictable it is.
âLetâs take Sadie to the Grand Prix this weekend.â You repeated.
âAre you sure?â he asked, his voice low. âItâs not exactly a calm environment. Itâs loud, chaoticâŠâ
You gently placed a hand on his arm, "I know, Oscar. But I think it would be good for her to see what you do, even if sheâs too young to fully understand. It could be a special memory for us, and your Mum insists she comes with us for extra help."
Oscarâs grip tightened slightly on Sadie as he looked down at her peaceful face, her tiny hand curled around his thumb. âWhat if she gets scared? The noise alone could be overwhelming for her,â He murmured.
You leaned in closer, resting your head against his shoulder. âWeâll be right there with her. And sheâll have ear protection, and weâll make sure sheâs comfortable. Besides, sheâll be surrounded by people who love her, including your parents and sisters. Itâll be okay.â
Oscar didnât seem convinced judging by his silence and expression on his face.
âOscar, Sadie is a calm baby. Unusually calm.â You stated earning a small amused scoff, âLike how your Mum described you as a baby and kid kind of calm⊠without waking up screaming to be freed from the crib. She will be okay.â
Oscar sighed, feeling the weight of your words. You were right; Sadie was an unusually calm baby, a trait she no doubt inherited from him. But that didnât stop the what-ifs from swirling around in his mind.
âOkay,â he said finally, his voice firmer now. âWeâll do it. Weâll take her to the Grand Prix.â
`· . àšà§âàčàŁ â
Stepping into the Australian sun, the warmth envelops you like a blanket, its golden rays reflecting off the bustling excitement of the Australian Grand Prix.
âSweetheart, do you have her-â
âYes Oscar, I have her ear protection, I have her spare clothes just in case, and the baby bag is hanging on her stroller.â You reply with a amused smile at his questioning as we entered the paddock.
Oscar gave a relieved nod, looking over at Sadie in his arms who was taking in her new surroundings. He took a deep breath, trying to steady himself as you approached the McLaren garage.
The garage was abuzz with activity. Team members hurriedly prepared the cars, the unmistakable scent of gasoline and tire rubber filled the air, and mechanics shouted over the din of the crowd. Oscar's teammates and crew were working efficiently, their focus entirely on the task at hand.
As you reached the entrance to the McLaren garage, Oscarâs anxiety flared up again. âDo you think sheâll be okay in all this noise?â he asked, casting a worried glance at Sadie while he set her down, who seemed completely unfazed finding her balance.
âSheâll be fine, Oscar,â you reassured him, squeezing his hand. âLook at her. Sheâs curious, not scared. Besides, sheâs got her daddy to protect her.â
Oscar smiled faintly at that, but the knots in his stomach refused to loosen. He glanced back at Sadie, who had wandered over to a stack of tires and was trying to peer around them. Every little movement she made seemed like a potential hazard in Oscarâs mindâwhat if she stumbled and hit her head? What if she got too close to something dangerous?
He quickly crossed the short distance to her, crouching down and gently steering her back toward the stroller. âStay close, okay?â he said softly, trying to keep the panic out of his voice.
Sadie looked up at him with a small smile, her tiny hand gripping his finger as she babbled something incoherent. Oscarâs heart melted a little, but the tension remained.
You watched him, your heart aching for the way he was trying so hard to keep it together. âOscar, sheâs safe. I promise you-â
As if on cue, Sadie eyes lit up as she spotted the bright orange McLaren car. Oscar couldnât help but smile at her reaction. It was the first time heâd seen her show interest in his worldâŠ. or really anything besides her family.
Yet, that moment didnât last long.
Sadie, determined to explore, suddenly let go of Oscarâs hand and toddled off towards the car. Oscarâs heart skipped a beat as he scrambled after her, scooping her up just as she reached the edge of the garage. âNo, no, no⊠not there.â he muttered, holding her close as he carried her back to the you and the relative safety of the stroller.
âSheâs fast,â one of the mechanics chuckled, having witnessed the scene. âSheâs like Verstappen on track!â
Oscar simply gave a embarrassed chuckle after his daughterâs attempts of adventure. Yet, Sadieâs terrorizing didnât end there. As the day progressed, Oscar and you did your best to keep Sadie entertained and safe in the bustling environment of the McLaren garage in preparing for the race. Unfortunately, she seemed determined to explore every inch of the place, much to both of your guysâs dismay.
INSTANCE 1: TIRES
As Oscar tried to get a moment of calm in the garage, he put Sadie down for a quick break next to her stroller. He was just about to check in with his team when he heard a faint sound. Spinning around, he saw that Sadie had wriggled out of her strollerâs harness and was crawling towards a rack of tires.
Oscarâs heart raced as he dashed over, his eyes wide with panic. âThatâs where we arenât going, Missy.â he exclaimed, scooping her up just as she was about to pull herself up onto the stack. The tires wobble precariously, and Oscarâs breath caught in his throat. He held her tightly, his face pale as he glanced around to see if anyone had noticed his near disaster.
The surrounding mechanics, sensing his distress, quickly stepped in to stabilize the tires. One of them patted him on the back, âSeems to me she wants to be part of the pit crew already!â
âMaybe sheâll be the one changing your tires this race!â Another commented with a laugh.
Oscar forced a smile, but the worry lines on his forehead remained.
INSTANCE 2:
As Oscar prepared for the race, you took over watching Sadie, trying to keep her entertained while Oscar suited up. You were stationed near the McLaren garage entrance, making sure to keep a watchful eye on Sadie who was now sitting contentedly in her strollerâat least for the moment.
However, as you turned to chat with one of the teamâs engineers, you heard a soft giggle followed by a rapid series of thumps. Turning quickly, you saw Sadie had somehow managed to wriggle out of her stroller again and was crawling towards a set of hydraulic jacks. The sight of her tiny fingers reaching out to touch the massive equipment made your heart skip a beat.
âNu uh, little lady! We donât touch that! No no.â you exclaimed, rushing over to her. But as you got closer, Sadie let out a giggle as you lifted her up into your arms.
âIâve never seen a baby this eager to be with McLaren.â Charlotte smiled as she passed by. âPerhaps she should start working with me at communications to be with Oscar more often!â
You gave a slightly embarrassed laugh as you buckled her in, she reached out with a pout, clearly unhappy with being restrained. âIâm sorry, sweetie, but we have to stay safe,â you murmured, brushing her hair back.
The rest of the crew chuckled at the spectacle, but you could see the worried look on Oscarâs face as he came out of his room, suited up in his gear. âEverything okay?â he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
âJust a small adventure with the hydraulic jacks,â you said with a smile, trying to lighten the mood. âSheâs fine now, but we might need to make sure all the escape routes are blocked off.â
Oscar gave a sigh, running a hand through his hair. âNotedâŠâ
INSTANCE 3: THE LANDO OVERTAKE
As the tension in the garage reached a peak with the race fast approaching, Sadieâs curiosity showed no signs of waning. Oscar, now fully suited up and mentally bracing himself for the race, was still visibly on edge.
In the midst of the frantic pre-race preparations, you found yourself trying to keep Sadie entertained while Oscar finished his final checks with the team. However, Sadieâs attempts to explore had escalated to a full-blown quest for adventure.
The McLaren garage was abuzz with activity, but you kept a close eye on Sadie, who had recently discovered the appeal of the large, colorful tire barriers. She was reaching out, her small fingers attempting to grasp anything within her reach. Just as you managed to corral her back to the stroller, a familiar voice came from behind you both.
âOscar, mate you look like youâve went to hell and back.â Lando chuckled, approaching with a sympathetic grin. His eyes quickly darted to Sadie, who was now fixated on the box of tools that a mechanic handed her just to keep her occupied.
Oscar, still visibly stressed, gave a exhale, resting his head on your shoulder. âLando, you have no idea. Sheâs like a magnet for trouble today.â
Lando and Sadie have met before, back when she was just born in a hospital visit.
Landoâs gaze softened as he crouched down to Sadieâs level, a mischievous glint in his eye. âHey there, Sadie. Howâs it going, little lady? Youâve grown up quite a bit havenât you?â he questioned, trying to capture her attention.
Sadieâs tiny head turned toward Lando, her eyes wide with interest with the new face for today. The sight of Landoâs playful demeanor seemed to break through her persistent determination. For a moment, she was entranced by his animated expressions and the sound of his voice.
She reached out towards him, her earlier determination to explore seemingly melting away in the face of his playful antics. Landoâs antics were enough to draw a genuine smile from her, and she even let out a small giggle, her tiny fingers grasping at his brightly colored McLaren cap.
Oscar, watching from a short distance, let out a relieved breath as he saw Sadieâs attention shift from her previous distractions. It was as if Lando had managed to temporarily derail her adventurous spirit with nothing more than charm and a few well-timed funny faces.
Needless to say, Oscar was astonished. He spent a handful of hours trying to stop her from even wandering off and all it took was a a small talk and a funny face?
âIâŠwha⊠how?!â
âHaving a niece helps out a lot when it comes to kids, yâknow.â
All that was left now was race time.
POST RACE
After all the chaos, Oscar achieved a solid P4 just behind Lando. Truely a race to remember compared to first race last year.
When he finally emerged from the car, the first thing he did was seek out you and his daughter. He was visibly relieved to find her in one piece, though she had managed to wriggle out of her stroller again and was now playing with the cap that Lando had given her.
Lando, who had been keeping an eye on Sadie during the race, gave Oscar a sympathetic grin. âYou survived the race and the baby chaos. Youâre a hero in my book.â
Oscar chuckled, the tension easing from his shoulders. He scooped Sadie up, finally able to relax. âThanks, Lando. I think I need a nap after all this.â
As the team cleaned up and you all walked out of the garage, Sadie clinging to Oscarâs neck and half-asleep after all her terrorism she caused in the McLaren garage. Happily, you could see the exhaustion in his eyes but also a newfound contentment.
âWe arenât taking her to another race are we?â You questioned.
âUnless we got a baby leash like Kevin suggested? Hell no.â Oscar huffed out in response.
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ââ .⊠[ FIC ]: can i really stay here? ( ê© áŻ
ê©;)â â
mullet stanley pines x innkeeper reader
tags: angst, hurt/comfort, sfw
word count: 1426
Ëâ§Ë° àŒ âïœĄË
nothing could have prepared you for the man who walked through the front door of the inn that day.
he looked like death, his chocolate hair tangled, his square jaw riddled with bruises and dirt. heavy eyes fixed themselves upon your figure.
"you got a spare room?"
that voice, gravelly and low, betrayed the exhaustion that plagued this mysterious stranger. you couldn't help but stare for a moment, lost in thought.
"i ... ah, yes, of course. just a room for one?"
your hands swiftly moved to ring him up, pressing a few buttons on the cash register. the man visibly reacted to the metallic sounds of the register, an expression of mild panic settling in.
"yeah ..." he dug through his pockets, patting himself over until he secured a grip on his wallet. pulling it out, he flipped it open, revealing nothing but an ID and a few sticks of gum. he clicked his tongue, defeated. "... this is embarrassing."
it was evident that something wasn't right with him; he looked as if he could collapse at any given moment. should you just deny him service and let him leave? what if he just got himself into deeper trouble? was he even in his right mind?
there was a fleeting moment of awkward silence as the two of you avoided eye contact. you took a sharp breath in.
"... tell me, sir, what's your name?"
his bushy brows rose in surprise. "er ... stan. stan pines." stan gave you a once-over, pulling a sly smirk despite his run-down appearance. "why? ya like what you see?"
a sort of scoffing chuckle left your lips. "this isn't really the time for jokes ..." your eyes trailed down to his stained jacket, torn-up jeans, and over worn shoes. at that, he laughed, which quickly turned into a painful cough. the concern became more evident on your face.
"-ah, you're right, of course. nobody would really want a guy like me, yeah?"
you couldn't bring yourself to respond to that. you could see the storm in his eyes.
turning your back to the counter, you picked up a key that was hanging from the wall, holding it out to him as you met his confused gaze.
"room 34. your stay will be on the house tonight, sir."
"... you're pullin' my leg."
"no, i'm perfectly serious."
hesitantly, he reached out his hand to take the key. your fingers brushed against his rough skin briefly before you pulled your arm back.
stan simply stood there, still processing what had just been given to him. he'd tried this before with numerous other places, and they'd all shut him down. he'd been through ... how many, four, five different states by now? finally, a night where he doesn't have to sleep in his car. the notion of spending a night in an actual bed ... seemed unreal.
"well, i ... damn. th-thanks, toots." he murmured, rubbing the back of his neck with his free hand. a faint shade of pink rose to his cheeks, which he attempted to play off by staring at the ground.
how long had it been since anyone had shown him this kind of generosity?
unsure of what to do, he decided to make his way over to his room, locating the staircase and climbing up, stealing a glance back at you. you watched him ascend the stairs, leaning your arms against the counter.
your mind continued to race. the man looked like he'd just been in a fight. did he have wounds that needed treatment? did he have any place to go? ... of course, those were all personal questions that you knew you shouldn't ask about. he is only a customer ... at least you could offer him somewhere to crash for the night.
it had been two hours.
two hours, and yet, you still couldn't get him off your mind.
you figured you might be able to offer him some dinner.
or was that just you trying to come up with an excuse to see him again? you didn't think about it too hard.
making your way over to the kitchen, you had the chef prep a single serving of food, laying it out on a tray which you picked up and began to walk with. the carpeted floor softened the sound of your footsteps.
arriving at the end of the hall, you stood in front of the door labeled "34", hesitating. you steeled your nerves and knocked gently on its wooden surface.
a few moments passed. you could hear the sound of rustling fabric and footsteps as stan made his way over to the door, opening it and observing his visitor. he was dressed in a bathrobe, his hair damp and his face looking much cleaner than before.
"sorry if i came at a bad time. i just figured you might want a bite to eat." you averted your eyes by glancing to the tray of food you held, a faint blush rising to your face.
twinkling lights began to glisten in place of the dark storm you'd seen in him before. his expression softened in disbelief, and he opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out.
eventually, he spoke.
"why are you doing this?"
"... what do you mean?"
"i mean, you're wastin' your good food 'nd room. you deserve your money-"
he cut himself off, swallowing back a bitter feeling in his throat.
"-i ... i need to ... pay it back."
oh. is he ... crying?
you could feel your heart wrench in your chest. "s-stan. it's okay."
he furiously blinked back tears, taking a deep breath and putting on a weary grin. "will ya keep that food hot for me? i'm just gonna get dressed. i think i'll eat it downstairs."
"oh, of course."
"thanks a bunch." he winked at you, then shut the door, leaving you to stare at the room label again. you blinked, then turned around to head back down.
after some time of waiting in the kitchen, you caught the sight of him descending the staircase and walking over to you. he was wearing a different shirt, although his jacket and jeans were the same. his hair was dry and much poofier now that it was clean. you caught yourself staring at his mullet.
"didja wait for too long?" stan pulled out a stool from the bar, taking a seat and watching as you put his plate of food in front of him.
"nah, you're okay." you offered a small smile. "feel free to dig in."
and boy, did he dig in. this man hasn't had a proper meal in forever. his daily diet has consisted of strictly rationed cheap snacks and the occasional stolen burger and fries. you swore you've never seen a guy so happy to eat something before in your life. somehow, watching him was making you feel warm inside.
"this ... is the best food i ever tasted." stan mumbled, looking up at you in between bites. all sorts of different emotions were raging inside of him, and the feeling of being properly nourished was bringing them up to the surface. his brown eyes began to overflow with tears, and he cursed underneath his breath, eating more aggressively to try and distract himself.
"uh, stan? are you alright?"
that was the last straw. his brows knit together and he swallowed his food, dropping his fork onto the plate. the tears were flowing freely now.
"no. dammit, i'm not alright."
stan covered his face with one arm, his broad frame trembling as he choked back bitter sobs.
"it's just that ... m-my parents, and i ... s-see- and my brother-"
he hunched over, shifting to cover his face with both hands. everything was crashing down.
"oh, God, my brother ..."
you walked out from behind the bar, making your way over to where he sat and taking the seat next to him. you didn't really think at all, you just slid your arm around his back and-
the instant he felt your touch, stanley clung onto you desperately.
onto somebody who was showing him hospitality. onto somebody who cared enough to worry about his health. onto somebody unlike anybody else he'd met these past few years.
burying his face into your shoulder, he pulled you closer against him.
"'m sorry ... don't leave me alone."
the wetness of his tears soaked into your shirt, but you didn't mind. here in your arms was a little boy who just needed a hug.
you barely knew each other, but you had a feeling that was going to change.
"don't worry, i'm not going anywhere."
end
[ part two ]
#this guy needs some love#gravity falls#gravity falls fanfiction#gravity falls fic#stanley pines#stan pines#grunkle stan#mullet stan#mullet stanley#sfw#angst#hurt/comfort#stanley pines x reader#stanley pines x you#avcdgrdn fic
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sebastian solace x reader? Anyone?
too bad :P
Sebastian Solace X Reader
Genre: Fluff, Found family
Warnings: None
Summary: After having been thrown into this hellhole, at an unreasonably young age, you find yourself trying to accomplish the task at hand; Find the Crystal. Whilst you are on your journey, you encounter a rather large angler man.
Author note: oh tod he's so dreamy guys. ALSO !! i made the reader into this sort of introvert where they're like "oh god people" kind? Not the "Oh no! People :(" kind of introvert. Reader is 14 by the way !!!!!
(spot the poppy playtime reference MEHEHRMRBR)
Screaming of an unknown enemy closes in quickly. Wanting to avoid certain death, you dive into a locker you made sure wasn't inhabited. It's screaming grows louder, tormenting your eardrums. You can't help but bring your hands to shield your ears from potential deafness and pain, a factor you wouldn't want in this place.
Hearing the screeching Angler pass it's way through, you burst out of the locker to cough out your lungs. The amount of dust your poor, overworking lungs hacked up was nowhere near healthy. Dust, grime and sweat had been imbedded into your diving suit, gross. You hope theres an open hole leading to underwater diving that would be able to wash away all the sweat and dirt off of your body.
Maybe, just maybe, if I'm able to get that crystal, and get out of this place... I can go home.
Home? Is that even a place anymore? Maybe it's the fact that the human mind finds so many things to cling onto when faced with impending death. One last hope to hold close. An unknown family, friends and maybe even a potential lover you could of had the chance to grow old with, and had many laughs in the house you grew up in. That... Sounds like paradise, but you are far away from that dream, the bile and sweat sticking to your swimsuit, a threat. Escaping this place is only a small plea, begging for anyone to hear your cries. To anyone, who could give you that boost to keep going.
'Door 46, am I almost halfway through?' You're surprised you even managed to get to 40, surely there's a surprise around the corner? A potential medkit would be fantastic. Your vitals read 35, that's nowhere near good. Batteries? Your lantern could use it. You only have enough to accompany your lone self through an empty, cold... Dark place.
The swirling thoughts in your head only manage to cease after encountering the door that finally indicates you are halfway through this hellhole. Door 50.
The dripping of a broken pipe drives you insane, every drop makes your fight or flight activate. The rapid pitter patter of your feet scurry to the next door, automatically sliding open once it knows there is a human presence.
The next room, however, is dimly lit. Two portable lights shining in the direction of a vent. How... Interesting? Is this where you need to crawl into? Your thoughts are quickly misguided as a gruff voice emits from the emit, earning a harsh flinch from you in response.
"Hey, stranger. Over here." This voice calls out to you, alluring your oh so close demise.
You have the thought to immediately scurry to the door, not wanting to take your chances. Fight or flight? Flight, surely. Your sweaty palms land on the door with a soft thud, realising that the only way out of this room requires a keycard. A code breacher is out of the question, seeing as you hold no such thing on you.
"Don't be so scared... I don't bite. Maybe." He utters that last part quietly, making a chill run up your spine. Will you really have to find out if this is something that will rip your spine out? But... It's the most friendly voice you've heard in hours, aside from the other angry prisoners from earlier that practically took everything you scavenged.
Investigating the vent, you crouch down to a level where it's most easy to be able to crawl in through. The size of the vent is no problem for you, since you are a 14 year old who could easily slot your way through tightly fit ventilation systems, or a blocked room.
Albeit, the diving gear on your back made it just a tad bit challenging to slide through, it was an easy feat. Your eyes dart from each side of the room, looking for the one who'd voiced out their friendliness. You definitely weren't expecting a 10ft terrifying Angler humanoid.
"Welcome, welcome! Don't worry, I'm not going to hurt you. My name is Sebastian, your only friend."
... With teeth. Sharp ones.
"Now, I'm betting that your supervisors gave you instructions to acquire a certain orange coloured crystal, no?" He words out with a certain amount of sarcasm dripping from his voice. Supervisors? You're only 14.
"Howeverâ Oh." He stops, suddenly. Normally, he wasn't one to take in the appearance of a fellow prisoner, seeming as it 'deemed unnecessary.' You, were younger. A lot younger than he expected.
"What the.. What the hell's Urbanshade doing sending kids down here...?" He was muttering to himself, his hand reaching up. Thinking that he was about to grab you, you recoil in fear. You find however, that your fear is misguided and that he'd only brought up one of his three hands to grab his chin in thought.
It had been a good 7 hours since you'd spoken last, other than the occasional screaming and crying. Your throat, croaks out at first which earns a cringe from yourself.
"I'm 14. I'm not a kid." Your throat feels like it was tortured from the amount of screeching you'd emitted running away from Anglers, and threats. That stupid Wall Dweller was one of those threats.
At your response, he chuckles amusingly. Sebastian finds your bravery endearing for someone your age. "Haha, alright. You're not a kid. What's someone your age doing here anyway?" He voices.
Observing the place, you talk as you walk around to analyse your surroundings, finding this small talk pointless.
"They threw me in here, I was trying to find my mum. Told me she'd be in here, just need to get a crystal first. Then they'd take me to her."
....
An uncomfortable silence passed by, before he frowned at you.
"are you that gullable? Thought 14 year olds were supposed to be semi intelligent." That earned a slap from you onto his tail. He hisses at the contact.
"Ow! Fuck, you little..." He hisses.
"You deserved that. She was here last, otherwise I wouldn't be here. Shut up, and give me your ware so I can get out of this shithole." You were obviously pissed, upset that the 10ft Angler guy offered no solace. (haha get it?)
"Alright, alright. That was a fault on my part, just.... Why did they throw you in here? You can't be here. You can't stay. Look, kid. I know they told you that your mother was here somewhere, and if she was then she's gone now. She probably made it back up to the surface." Though you narrow your eyes, you can sense a hint of comfort in those words. You can tell, he's genuinely worried about you.
Sebastian see's many people come and go, only to see that they inevitably meet their dark fate. He hopes, that this won't be the case with you.
"..Look. Urbanshade doesn't tell the truth, they lie to get what they want. I'm sorry to be the one that breaks it to you, but your mother was used as a false hope to get you down here. The more hands they have on the mission, the bigger the possibility to get the crystal. Take it from someone like me." he'd muttered that last part, he can understand your situation.
Urbanshade had lied to him too, told him that his Freedom would be granted. He just need to pay a price first. Be their puppet, be their experiment.
Sweat beaded down your face, this isn't what you wanted to hear. Had they really lied to you? Used you as a move like chess on a board? Sebastian can see your distress. How you came to the conclusion that he was indeed right, even if your mother was here... She would be nowhere to be found.
why were you even here?
Sebastian knows you can't be sent back up, Urbanshade will track your location and come to the conclusion that you're heading back. They would blow you to smithereens because of the bomb device around your neck. You're obviously too young to continue this harsh journey to ensure your families existence. A 14 year old shouldn't have to die in an agonizing way, especially when they're so young and have a life ahead of them. shit.
He really has no choice, does he?
"Agghh.... Fine!! Fine fine. You, are gonna stay here with me. Capish?" He inquires, your head shakes fervently. Your mouth gapes open like a fish out of water, wanting to reject this idea. He stops you before even a single word can come from your mouth.
"Don't worry about the crystal. Urbanshade will send more prisoners to do their dirty work. I'll get you food, and that damn collar off of your neck. Other than that, stay here. You'll be safe with me, and I will try and find out as much of your mother as I can. I trade these supplies for the data you come across. I should surely have one of your mother." Every single thing he says has you shaking your head. But, deep down... You know he'll be the closest thing that leads you to your mother.
"Oh. What's your name kid?"
...
"[Name]."
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ALRIFHT so im done !!!! if this actually goes viral i will actually turn this into a full blown story on Ao3. pls comment and let me know if you want more of the family trope with Sebastian cause we just don't see enough.
Part 2 is out now!
#sebastian solace#pressure#pressure roblox#sebastian solace x reader#found family#idk what im doing#pressure sebastian#platonic#first actual post#firstgenuinexreader#pressure x reader#sebastian solace pressure#roblox#sebastian solace x you#x reader
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đŹđŠđšđ€đ đŠđ đšđźđ | đđ„đ„đąđ đ°đąđ„đ„đąđđŠđŹ đ± đ«đđđđđ«
description: youâve been getting closer to ellie lately and, unbeknownst to you, your blossoming crush is entirely reciprocated. cue your first smoke sesh together⊠and a little something more, too. [modern au, ellie and reader are both over 18]
warnings: weed use, oral sex, fingering. this fic is 18+, minors do not interact.
authorâs note: my first ellie fic and my first fic on this blog! pls be nice :) let me know what you think <3
The first few times you hung out with Ellie, sheâd offered you a joint. Itâs no secret that Ellieâs the townâs top dealer, a welcome sight at rowdy house parties, her backpack stuffed with ziplock bags of the best bud around. Youâd tried weed before, had taken a puff or two from poorly-rolled blunts here and there, but youâd never particularly enjoyed it. Mostly, youâd just coughed up a lung and felt nothing but a vague lightheadedness. So when Ellie rolled up a joint the first time youâd come over to her place, offering you a drag after sheâd sparked up, youâd politely declined.
Ellie had arched a brow. âYou mind if I smoke? Shit - I can put it out.â
Before youâd had the chance to respond, she was already reaching for the ashtray on her nightstand, ceramic and painted to resemble an eight-ball.
âNo, no, itâs fine,â you interjected, reaching out and touching her wrist almost involuntarily. You pushed down the flurry of butterflies that erupted in your stomach at the contact. God, you had to be touch-starved or something. Since when did touching someoneâs arm make your heart skip a beat?
Ellie looked at you with a guarded kind of suspicion, like she didnât believe that you were fine with her smoking. âYouâre sure?â
âIâm sure,â you said, lips curling into an encouraging smile. âI donât mind weed, it just doesnât do anything for me.â
âHuh.â Ellie nodded. She lifted the joint to her lips again and you glanced away, chest tightening from the sight of her lips pursing.
âIf you ever wanna try again,â she paused to exhale a plume of smoke, intentionally avoiding your direction, âlet me know. Not to, like, toot my own horn or anything, but Iâve never had someone try my weed and not like it.â
You let out an easy laugh. âOkay, weâll have to see about that.â
Ellie was smiling at you, those green eyes twinkling like so many stars. âNo pressure.â
That was months ago, when the summer heat still blazed from sunrise to sunset. Itâs mid-winter now, the chill nipping at your cheeks and the end of your nose. To your agony, it hasnât gotten any easier to breathe when you touch Ellie - when she greets you with a hug and a smile at her front door, you feel like youâre paralyzed with want. And Ellieâs probably none the wiser, of course. You wonder if sheâs ever noticed the way your breath hitches when she stretches out on the couch beside you, leaning her head on your shoulder while some tacky eighties film lights up the television screen. You figure sheâs oblivious - sheâs just being friendly. She probably doesnât even know you like girls, anyway. Plus, she doesnât shy away from talking about the girls sheâs been with before. Youâve spent more than a few nights seething with jealousy as she recounted her latest hookup, schooling your expression into one of disinterest or even mild enthusiasm.
Itâs been a while since sheâs talked like that, luckily. Youâre grateful you donât have to feign excitement about Ellieâs latest conquests anymore.
âWhatcha thinkinâ about?â Ellie interrupts your internal monologue, hands still working at the joint in her lap. Sheâs got a pile of ground-up weed on a rolling tray, sprinkling it into the perfectly-rolled cone like itâs muscle memory. It probably is.
âNothing,â you blurt, cheeks warming. âSorry, just zoned out for a second.â
âOh, bullshit,â Ellie quips, rolling her eyes despite the smile playing at her lips. âWhat, you canât tell me? I thought we were friends, cherry.â
You flush anew at the nickname. Sheâd picked it out for you after youâd scarfed down an entire jar of maraschino cherries one night, after Ellie had bought them for ice cream sundaes. Youâd never live that down⊠But youâre not sure you want to, because every time the nickname leaves Ellieâs lips, you feel like youâre glowing bright red with admiration.
âWe are friends!â You nudge Ellieâs shoulder with yours, rolling your eyes with that same playfulness sheâd expressed. âSorry, itâs just - itâs embarrassing.â
Ellie narrows her eyes. Itâs like you can see the cogs turning in her head. âEmbarrassing? What, you got a crush on some guy or something?â
You open your mouth to respond, but before you can, sheâs prattling on again. âYâknow, just âcause Iâm gay doesnât mean you canât talk to me about your crushes. Swear I wonât be weird about it.â
Oh god.
âItâs not - Iâm notâŠâ You sigh, gaze lowering to your lap, where youâre fiddling with your hands. Should you tell her? You should probably tell her.
âI like girls, you know.â
Itâs quiet for so long that you need to look up at Ellie to make sure sheâs still there, still listening. And she is; her eyes are glued to you, wide in disbelief.
âWhat?â You feel like a bug under a microscope with her looking at you like that. âIs it that hard to believe?â
Ellie shakes her head emphatically. âNo, no - itâs not. I just didnât expect that.â
She turns away to finish rolling the joint, twisting the very end of the paper until it forms a little point. âGuess youâre just full of surprises, huh, cherry?â
You bite your lip to stifle a smile, but Ellie sees it anyway.
âSo whoâs the lucky girl?â She asks, rummaging through her pocket until she finds her lighter. You watch Ellie spark the joint, the twisted end catching fire until the cherry starts to glow. Ellie takes a few puffs and the scent of smoke tickles your nose.
âIâd prefer not to say,â you tell her, chewing on the inside of your lip. Your nerves are off the wall; youâre so anxious that the joint in Ellieâs slender fingers is suddenly tempting.
Ellie scoffs. âBoring.â
She looks up at you as she flicks ash off the end of the joint, and when she notices you eyeing it, her brows lift.
âWant some? Will that make you spill?â
You huff a nervous laugh, toying with the ends of your hair. âNo⊠I donât know. Maybe?â
Ellie whoops, her free hand curling into a fist of victory. âFuck yeah. Here, take it.â
She offers you the joint and you take it, but not without a moment or two of hesitation. You will the anxiety away with the thought that you probably wonât feel anything. Ellie watches as you bring the joint to your lips and inhale, praying you wonât cough and make a fool of yourself. Especially not with Ellie watching so intently.
By the grace of some kind of divine being, you donât cough. Your throat tickles, and you feel emboldened to take one more hit, letting the smoke fill your lungs. You imagine your body relaxing, the knot in your stomach unwinding. You hand the joint back to Ellie and she takes a puff of her own, her lips curled into the faintest little smirk.
âSoâŠâ Ellie trails off expectantly.
âGod, youâre persistent,â you groan. She just peers at you knowingly from behind a veil of smoke.
âThereâs not much to tell,â you say. âIâve had a crush on this girl for a while now, but I donât think she feels the same.â
âHave you asked her?â Ellie prompts, flicking ash off the joint.
You shake your head. âNo way.â
âThen,â Ellie pauses to take another hit, âhow do you know she doesnât feel the same?â
You should be feeling anxious with her drilling you like this - you know you should. Usually, youâd be retreating into yourself with every prodding question Ellie asks. But all you feel now is yearning; thereâs an ache in your chest that only she can remedy. And, clearly, Ellieâs clueless about it.
You donât want her to be clueless, you realize.
The words leave your lips before you can think better of them. âDo you, Ellie?â
Her brows knit together, forming a crease that youâve memorized by now - like every other freckle and wrinkle on her face. âHuh? Do I what?â
You reach for the joint and she yields it without question.
âDo you feel the same about me?â
The weed has certainly helped with your nerves, you think, watching Ellieâs expression shift from confusion to realization. Her plush lips part, but all that comes out is a series of stammers and false sentence starts: âIâyouâwhat?â
Fuck it, you think. You stretch out to reach the nightstand beside Ellieâs bed, leaving the joint in one of the ashtrayâs notches. A steady stream of smoke ribbons upward from the fading cherry.
âEllie,â you start, settling back into your place on the rug. You look at her to find her already staring at you, blinking. âItâs you. I have a crush on you. Itâs beenââ
âWhy didnât you tell me?â Ellie interjects, voice softer than youâd expected.
You blink. âI didnât want to ruin our friendship, I guess. And you always talked about other girls, so I thought you just⊠Werenât interested.â
âCherry.â Ellie sits up on her knees so she can get closer to you, the sleeves of her oversized flannel slipping down to her forearms as she reaches out and grabs your face. Her touch is gentle but firm, insistent. You can feel the callouses on her fingers against your skin, her thumbs brushing up against your cheekbones, and the air is suddenly so thin you can hardly inhale.
âI have⊠Iâve had feelings for you for so long. So fucking long, cherry.â Ellieâs gaze is intense, eyes boring into you. You feel exposed, raw, alive with something electric.
You stare right back at her, frozen in her grasp.
âBut you were always talking about other girls,â you say. Doubt lingers in the back of your head; this is too good to be true. Right?
âI know, fuck, Iâm sorry,â Ellie sighs. âI thought you werenât interested in me. Thought it was hopeless, yâknow? My perfect best friend having feelings for me? Unreal.â
One of Ellieâs hands smooths over your hair; itâs something sheâs done plenty of times before, but it feels different now. More intimate, with your shared confessions between you.
âWanna know something?â Ellie asks then plows on, not really waiting for an answer, âI stopped hooking up with other girls a while ago. I just⊠Couldnât.â
You nod in understanding. Your eyelids feel heavy all of the sudden, each blink heavier than the last.
âThey werenât you,â Ellie adds.
They werenât you, her words echo in your mind.
âEllie,â you breathe. Her face is impossibly close; you can pick out every detail of her face. Each pore, each freckle, each fleck of brown in her green eyes. You can smell the weed smoke on her breath.
âCherry,â she responds, voice hushed just as low as yours. âCherry. Can I kiss you?â
âGod, yes,â you practically whine.
When Ellie kisses you for the first time, she tastes like relief.
Her lips are soft and insistent against yours, the pad of her thumb warm against your cheek as you lean in closer to kiss her back. Itâs like time has gone still; the hum of the speaker on Ellieâs dresser fades away, as does the sound of the winter winds hissing and whooshing against the window. All you know is Ellie: her hand slipping down the length of your back to grab your hip, her mouth hot and needy against yours. Itâs a desperate sort of kiss, one that youâd both been yearning for, and months of pining drain from your mouth to hers, then back again.
Youâre not sure if youâd been kissing for seconds or hours when Ellie finally breaks away, gasping.
âFuck,â she whispers. The tip of her nose brushes against your cheek, then your nose. âWe should stop, before IâŠâ
She trails off but you know exactly what sheâd left unsaid. And your stomach flips in response; the mere thought of what else Ellie might do with her mouth has your cunt throbbing.
Ellieâs hand leaves your hip and itâs like sheâs left a burn there - one shaped like her touch, a scathing outline on your skin.
âI donât want to stop,â you find the courage to admit.
Youâre not sure who makes the first move this time - only that youâre kissing again, swallowing Ellieâs pleased moans as your tongue prods between her lips. You gasp and pant into each otherâs mouths, hands roaming on newly discovered skin; Ellieâs hands slip beneath your tee, her palms hot against your abdomen, your hips, your lower back. When her fingers find the clasp of your bra and unfasten it, you practically shiver with anticipation, back arching into her touch.
âWhoa there,â Ellie laughs, nudging her nose against yours. You go in for another kiss, annoyed that sheâd stopped, but she pulls back. âYouâre sure you want this, cherry?â
âPlease,â you say, taking advantage of the moment to pull your shirt over your head and set it aside. You toss your bra into the growing pile, turning back to Ellie to find her gaping at you.
âChrist,â she says, licking her lips, âyouâre fucking perfect.â
She gives you one last heated kiss before her mouth moves to your jawline, then the column of your neck, where she leaves a trail of wet kisses. She sucks on a spot right on the crook of your neck, just shy of leaving a hickey, and your toes fucking curl.
Ellie only gives a low hum of approval at your reaction before sheâs moving lower, lower. Her kisses cover your breasts, every inch of skin worshipped by her lips until she finally takes a peaked nipple into her mouth. You feel her tongue swirl against the sensitive bud and you nearly cry from the pleasure, one hand flying up to knot into her hair and tug.
Her gaze moves up to meet yours, and your cunt tightens again at the look of unbridled desire in her eyes - her lids are heavy, too, but you canât tell if itâs from the weed or sheer lust. Maybe both, youâre not sure, but you donât have much time to consider it before Ellieâs moving to your other nipple, tongue laving against the taut flesh before she closes her mouth around it and sucks. A ragged moan tears from your throat and you tense, tugging again at the locks of Ellieâs hair in your fist.
She leaves your nipples flushed and sensitive, shining with saliva, and youâre suddenly very aware of the layers of clothes separating you from her. Separating the wetness of your cunt from hers, the bony curve of her hips from your needy mouth. You need those layers gone.
âEllie,â you whine, pulling at the collar of her flannel.
âShh, I know,â she coos, voice dripping with syrupy sweet lust. âWhy donât you get on the bed for me, hm?â
You nod and oblige, but not without stopping to slip out of your jeans. You leave your panties on because, well, theyâre cute. A white lace thong with a tiny, silky pink bow just below your navel - Ellieâs eyes linger there as she stands at the edge of the bed, unbuckling her belt and stepping out of her cargos. You can feel the wet patch on your panties as you press your thighs together and watch her undress. Sheâs always been on the thinner side, but as she slides off her flannel and pulls her sports bra over her head, you realize that sheâs much more toned than youâd imagined. Her arms flex with each movement and her abdomen is clearly taut with muscle; every inch of new skin she reveals only adds to the agonizing desire churning in your stomach.
Luckily, she seems just as eager as you are. Sheâs still in a pair of oversized plaid boxers when she grabs hold of your hips and yanks you toward the edge of the bed, pulling your knees apart so she can see whatâs between them.
âLook at you,â she says, eyes wide at the sight of your soaked panties. âI didnât realize you were so needy, cherry. Shouldâve let me take care of you sooner.â
Her words send another gush of arousal flooding from your cunt, your stomach twisting. ââM sorry, Ellie.â
âDonât be sorry,â she says, lowering herself onto her knees before you. Her fingers hook beneath the lace of your panties to pull them down, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the rug.
Her face sinks between your legs, and the first stroke of her tongue against your folds makes you shiver with relief.
âOh my god,â you gasp. Ellie moans against your pussy, tongue splitting through your folds, spreading your wetness with every swipe and lick. Your back arches involuntarily, your toes curling in sheer pleasure.
She laps at your cunt like a woman starving, hot tongue drawing circles around your puffy clit. Itâs maddening, the way she knows exactly what you need, speeding up and slowing down in accordance with your moans and sighs and whimpers. Youâve never felt so close so quickly, but you donât want it to stop - her mouth is magic between your legs, and as you hurtle towards your orgasm, she slips a finger into your clenching hole. You nearly scream.
âEllie,â you moan shakily, your thighs tightening on both sides of her head. âEllie, Iâm gonnaâŠâ
She just moans again, mouth working at your clit while her finger sinks in and out of your cunt. She adds another not long after and itâs hardly a stretch with how wet you are. Youâre trembling with every stroke of her tongue against your clit, and soon enough, you feel yourself slipping off the edge into oblivion. Your orgasm tears through you like never before, hot and electric, every muscle tensing as Ellie finger-fucks you through every wave of pleasure. Eventually, you push the heel of your hand against her forehead, too overstimulated for her to keep sucking at your too-sensitive clit. She pulls back and sits on her heels, fingers leaving the tight grip of your cunt as she wipes her mouth with her other hand. Your slick covers her from the nose down, the shining evidence of how good sheâd made you feel.
âSo fucking pretty when you come,â Ellie tells you, standing up and lifting a knee onto the bed beside you. Her hair is a mess, youâd made sure of it, but she doesnât seem to notice or care.
âThink youâve got a few more for me?â She smiles at you, wolfish and wicked, and her hand moves to grope at one of your tits.
âMm,â you hum, reaching out for her. âOnly if you have a few for me.â
When sheâs close enough, you slip your hand between Ellieâs legs, your fingers brushing through sparse curls to find the heat of her folds. Sheâs soaked, you realize with self-satisfaction, your tongue swiping over your lower lip.
This will be fun.
#ellie williams x reader#wooo first fic!#ellie x reader#ellie williams fanfic#ellie williams fanfiction#ellie williams x y/n#ellie williams x you#ellie williams smut#ellie williams fluff#tlou fic#tlou fanfic#tlou fanfiction#tlou2#ellie tlou#ellie tlou2#lesbian fic#!#ellie fanfic#ellie x fem reader
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Hi! I'm so happy that you're inbox is open! I love your fics đ
I have a few ideas for request but I don't want to overwhelm your inbox đ
I thought about Eddie x fem reader where reader is not into PDA and all of Eddie's friends are telling him that reader is not into him and he should let her go. They don't believe Eddie saying the reader is crazy about him like he is about her.
She cares about him, help him with homework and even put his socks on when he's napping during movie night. Eddie's friends think that he sees her through rose colored glasses.
But one time Gareth or someone else saw how she threatened cheerleader that was telling shit about Eddie.
Or other time Gareth came to trailer park because Eddie had a cold and he was shocked when he saw reader taking care of Eddie.
Thank you for you time!
I hope this is what you wanted and you enjoy it. Thank you for requesting đ«¶đ»
No PDA
Eddie found himself in a new relationship with Y/N, she was a cheerleader and popular. Their relationship was a shock to everyone and Eddie's friends were skeptical.
Gareth was suspicious from the start. To him, it was weird that Eddie and Y/N didn't act like a couple. They have been together for a few months and Gareth had never seen them do anything more than talking. He didn't think he had ever seen them hold hands or kiss, they looked like friends.
He had talked to Eddie about it many times but Eddie always said that Y/N was crazy about him and there was nothing to be worried about. Gareth wasn't sure if he could believe that without seeing it with his own eyes.
Eddie knew Y/N loved him. It was obvious in the way she took care of him. She wasn't much for public display of affection and Eddie was cool with that. He felt loved by her in different ways. She stayed late to help him with homework, bought his favorite snacks at the store, and always let him pick the movie for date night.
~~~
Gareth was walking down the hallway when he heard the sound of arguing. He looked around the corner and saw Y/N and another cheerleader getting into each other's faces.
"Keep his name out of your mouth. I'm not going to let you talk shit about my boyfriend. If I hear you say anything about him again, I'll get your ass kicked off the team."
Gareth watched as the other stomped and walked away, Y/N looked proud of herself as she walked in the other direction.
Well, Gareth had to give her a point there.
~~~
Eddie came down with a bad cold so he couldn't go to school. Gareth, as his best friend, collected all his homework and planned to drop it off. He stopped at the store for medicine and soup, just in case Wayne was too busy to grab some.
Gareth was confused when he saw another car parked in front of the trailer. He carried the bag of groceries and endless homework. He knocked on the door and called out for Eddie.
But Eddie didn't answer the door, it was Y/N.
"Hey Gareth, come on in," she said, a polite smile on her face
"What are you doing here?" Gareth asked, setting down the groceries on the table
"Taking care of Eddie," she laughed, "Homework and food?" she asked as she began to take out the food from the bags
"Uh yeah, I wasn't sure if Wayne would be able to take care of him," Gareth explained
"Yeah, he's at work, thank you for grabbing all of this. He's in his bedroom if you want to see him."
Gareth nodded, watching as she began to make soup on the stove. He walked towards to Eddie's bedroom, shocked to see how clean it was.
"I don't think I've ever seen your room so clean," Gareth said in awe as he walked in
Eddie tried to laugh but it came out as a harsh cough, "Yeah, Y/N cleaned while I slept."
"I brought you your homework and some soup," Gareth said as he put the books on Eddie's bed
"Thanks, man," Eddie said through sniffles.
"So how long has Y/N been here?" Gareth asked, standing near the door so he didn't catch anything.
"All day, once I told her I was sick she drove over here and has been taking care of me all day. Even put my socks in the dryer so they can be warm!" Eddie gushed, wiggling his toes in his warm socks.
"So she uh, really takes care of you, huh?" Gareth asked
"I told you, she cares about me and loves me. She prefers to do it in private," Eddie said, "and other things in private," he added as he wiggled his eyebrows
"Eddie, don't be a perv," Y/N said as she walked through the door with a bowl of hot soup
Eddie rolled his eyes but happily took the bowl of soup. He sat up as she set the bowl in his hands.
Gareth watched as Eddie ate his soup, and Y/N pushed back his hair to feel his forehead.
Maybe he should have believed Eddie in the first place
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