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sweet-as-an-angel · 1 year

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MW2 Reaction to You Asking Them to be Gentle

Warnings: 18+ (Just To Be Safe), Non-Graphic Depictions of Smut, Implied Consensual Dub-Con, Dominant MW2, Jealous MW2, Slut-Shaming, Strap-On, Shock Collar, Implied Infidelity (Nobody’s Actually Cheated, it’s Just for The Bit), Age Gap (Price), Restraints, Slight Implied Dumbification, Implied Threesome, Petnames, Profanity No Pronouns used for Reader except ‘You’.

Ghost

“Aw, am I hurtin’ you, Love ?” he asks, ceasing his pace for just a moment. His body is hot and thick behind you, a wall, a barrier.

When you nod, your eyes glistening with budding tears and your hands gripping the bed sheets, Simon places a hand upon your cheek. Gentle. His thumb strokes your chin, and his eyes are kind.

Until they aren’t.

They sharpen in an instant, and, without warning, he pulls back, inch by inch, and slams back in. You yelp, winded, wincing at the pain revitalising in your lower half. But he doesn’t let you flee, grabbing you by the shoulders and forcing you to take all of him.

“Should’ve thought about that before practically sitting on Johnny’s cock, you little fuckin’ whore,”

It doesn’t matter how many times you try to tell him that Soap had pulled you into his lap as a joke – a gesture of friendship, not a phallic item or intention in sight – Ghost isn’t having any of it.

“You won’t even be able to sit down without thinkin’ of me,” he says. His eyes dark, he growls, pulling back for the killing finish. “Or I’ll just have to put the fear of God into you again,” And he slams in, harsh, unflinching, sharp. And you scream, your vision turning white as you reach your end.

König

“I know, Engel,” he says, breathless. His eyes are piercing, fire and ice. And a thin, cruel smile stretches across his face.

Before you can react, even hope to retaliate, he takes your wrists beneath his hands and pins them above your head. You writhe and you struggle, only to be met with a low moan from König.

“Don’t tempt me, Darling,” he says. “Or I won’t be able to control myself when I snap,”

You can tell by his tone that he’s not letting you off easily. Not after your ‘flirtatious’ conversation with the barista from your excursion into town earlier.

When you feel tears prick your throat, König shushes you.

“Oh, shh, Engel, it’s too late for tears now.” You swear you see his eye twitch. His body bears down on yours, scorching and heavy and impossible to fight.

He lowers his head beside your ear, and, sibilant, licks the shell.

“Besides,” he whispers. He grinds into you. Slowly. Warning.

“You wouldn’t want to encourage me now, would you ?”

Soap

“Oh no, Bonnie; the time for kindness and compassion is over,” Johnny said as he tightened his belt around your wrists, pulling it so escape was a distant dream for you. He had you caged beneath him, a smile curved with a certain brand of unscrupulousness only he could wear at his lips.

“After all, what did you say to Simon again ? That I’m ‘gentle as anything’ ?” The second you’d said it, no matter how innocent your intent, you knew you shouldn’t have. If Simon’s gaze flickering to your boyfriend, who loomed just over your shoulder, was anything to go by, you knew the end was nigh.

“Do you know,” he took your chin between his fingers, forcing you to look at him, making you wince. “How many people I’ve killed ?”

Your heart dropped. Soap – for this was no longer the Johnny you’d come to know and love – released a brief, almost incredulous laugh. “D’ya think they’d call me gentle ? Loving and sweet ?”

Shaking your head, you hoped that by playing along you could negate whatever was coming next. Of course, any and all efforts would be in vain.

“Well,” Soap glowered, his hand encompassing your jaw, gripping you. He ground against you, growled. “I suppose I’ll just have to give you a demonstration, won’t I ?”

Valeria

“Oh ? Gentle ?” she says. Her voice is low and dangerous – you know because you’ve accidentally seen – heard – glimpses of her interrogation tapes. You know what’s coming for you – especially when she has your face pressed against her desk, her strap-on dangerously close to penetration, though hanging just out of frame. A threat.

“Is that what you thought I was going to be when you let that slimy, arrogant prick of a bartender slobber all over you ? Practically let him bend you over the counter and fuck you raw,”

Negotiation with Valeria is impossible – something else you’d gleaned from her tapes. And denial is even worse. But admitting to what she was accusing you of would be the signature on your death warrant. And she knows she has you cornered.

You can feel her tip prodding your hole. She didn’t even bother to lubricate you or prepare you.

“Shouldn’t need to. What, with that bartender already having done that for me.”

She knows the bartender did no such thing, but feeling you cower beneath her is too euphoric for her to even comfort you.

Without warning, she slams into you, only stopping halfway when your body refuses to take more of her, her obscenely long strap-on too thick for you to even fathom as you cry out, scream, tears falling to the desk’s surface beneath you.

Price

“You think, after all you’ve done, that you deserve my mercy ?”

Price’s grip on his belt was palpable, tightening, making the leather whine and whimper in his grasp. You could feel his teeth gritting, his stare hard. His voice held a cynicism you’d scarcely heard in his tone before. Not directed towards you, anyway.

“You go and chat up another guy and you have the audacity to believe that you’re worthy of even an ounce of my sympathy ?”

The context behind Price’s upset was all rooted in misunderstanding; he’d seen some younger, attractive guy chatting you up, and you, trying to be polite until your boyfriend returned, smiled. Which, in John’s eyes, was reciprocation. And now, you were paying the price.

“Tell you what,” he said, his stern features shifting to portray ill intent, an idea sparking in his mind. He lunged, grabbed you by your ankle and pulled you down the bed – closer to him. His belt remained gripped in his other hand.

“If you can take – say – twenty lashes, and count them – without missing a single one – I’ll think about being gentle.”

He brought his belt down on your thigh, making you cry out. “And then you can tell me all about how he’d be gentle with you – how he could unravel you like I can.” His gaze, dark with the oncoming storm, narrowed. “How he can have you like this.”

Horangi

“Is that what you said to König when he had you like this ?” Horangi hissed. He had you pinned beneath him, eyes blackened with the false conviction of your infidelity.

And, try as you might to ease his misunderstanding, to remind him that he’s the only one you love, you hear something.

The squeak of hinges, the swinging of the bedroom door opening.

You couldn’t see – think – for Horangi’s frame bolted to yours, but through the rushing of blood and Horangi’s beration, you heard a most unmistakable tone.

“Liar, liar, liar,” came König’s voice, punctuated with three broad, heavy steps. He loomed over Horangi’s shoulder, arms behind his back, the smile of deceit a tune upon his face.

A slinking, sly smile threaded Horangi’s lips as he kept his eyes on you, turning his head to address König. “I’ll see how much truth I can get out of (Y/N) first,” he said, and, like a soundtrack, the sound of König’s belt sliding from his pants lay a dark undertone – the instrument. “Then it’s your turn.”

One hand collecting your wrists, the other tearing the belt from his jeans, Horangi gave you his full, undivided attention. As did König. “Seeing as you’re so desperate for another man on the side,” said Horangi, “Let’s see how you take both of us.”

Alejandro

“Don’t lie to me, mi Corazon,” Alejandro says, ignoring your plea, one hand around your throat, the other on your thigh, grasping, groping, grabbing at your skin.

“I saw you – whispering in his ear, telling him God-knows-what,”

Alejandro is on top of you, his weight an immovable object, his stare dark and unforgiving. You can feel him sat just out of reach of your epicentre, but not out of bounds.

What he’d seen was you, smiling, whispering into Rudy’s ear about something sultry. What had actually happened was you were confirming the details of Alejandro’s surprise birthday party with him, smiling because you were so excited to get it organised.

But you couldn’t tell Alejandro that; it would ruin the surprise !

When Alejandro’s more tame efforts to get you to talk proved fruitless, he took to his preferred method of extraction.

He ground against you, letting out a low, shuttering moan.

“You can’t hide the truth from me forever,” he said, with all the conviction of one who has only ever known truth. “So if you’re not gonna tell me while you still have your faculties,” He squeezed your throat, his other hand slithering up your thighs, stopping shy of your centre and unbuckling his belt.

“I’ll just have to force it out of you. Break you down until you’re nothing but a fuck toy.” His eyes are almost black now. “My fuck toy.”

Rodolfo

“Next time you want someone gentle, why don’t you go running to Alejandro, seeing as you seem to like having him slobber over you.”

You couldn’t argue back, couldn’t defend yourself, your mouth gagged with a t-shirt Rudy had tied around your head. You couldn’t even unravel it, Rodolfo’s hands pinning yours beside your head as he pressed into you from behind.

“Hm ? Got nothing to say, mi Corazon ?” Rudy sneers. “Pity, seeing as you couldn’t shut the fuck up around your boyfriend earlier.”

As if to drive the point home, to hit the nail on the head, he rammed into you, making you whine, the shirt soaking up your cries and your drool. Your eyes shone with tears, but you dared not cry – not around Rudy. Not while he had you at his mercy.

“You won’t stop until you have all of us wrapped around your little finger, will you.” he said. It wasn’t a question, nor did he allow you to answer as he slammed into you again. “Luckily for you, I’m a good man. One who knows how to handle injustice when he sees it.” His grip on your thighs was almost painful, and were it not for the reluctant euphoria building within you, you’d have tried to break free.

“It’s up to me to force it out of you – to erase that entitled mindset of yours.” He pulled out, forced all of himself back inside, sharp. His breath shuttered while yours choked, your scream caught in your throat.

“Don’t worry, Ángel,” he breathed, lowering himself so his lips were to your shoulder, pressing a deceptively soft kiss there. “By the time I’m done, there won’t be a single thought left in that brain of yours apart from me.”

Graves

“Don’t you fucking tell me what to do, Whore – you lost that privilege hours ago,” Graves says, threat heavy in his voice. He stands over you, face awash with a dense egoism you know is only worn when he has decided to take his frustrations out on you.

And today is no exception.

The collar about your neck is a reminder of all that you stand to lose should you fail to comply with Graves’ vision – your freedom; made excruciatingly clear to you by the locked bedroom door behind him, the key hanging in the lock.

No matter how you try to reason with Graves, he is having none of it.

“Shh, Sweetheart, now’s not the time for tears–” he says. The threatening tone in his voice remains, only the name he calls you changes. And the more endearing they become, the closer to danger you are.

He slides open the bedside table, reaches in and withdraws a pair of silver handcuffs, clinking together with a deceptive veneer of gentile.

“If you wanna get on my good side again, you have to do exactly as I say, precisely when I say so.” He cocks his head, a slim, coy smile spreading across his face like a disease. “Y’understand, Beautiful ?”

Gaz

“Gentle, gentle – is that all you have to say for yourself ?” Gaz spat, pacing back and forth before you as he kept a keen, sharp eye on you. “After everything you’ve done tonight, you think I’ll let you off easy ?”

The ‘everything’ Gaz was referring to had been your efforts to get a reaction out of him. Bending over at inopportune times, accidentally only wearing one of his shirts and a pair of his boxers while the rest of your clothes were in the wash (or had mysteriously vanished.

And, your worst offence, sitting under his desk while he held a very important online call with Captain price. All the while, you’d poked and prodded and stroked him, tested his resolve, his patience.

And, evidently, you’d gone too far.

With the remote to the shock collar squeezing your neck attached to the very fibres of his hand, Gaz held all the cards, your sanity the Ace of the deck.

Before you could try to defend yourself, a thin spark sent you yelping, made you jump. Your hands flew to the collar, trying to pull its rounded teeth — the conductors – from your skin.

Gaz only smiled. “Oh no, Love – I won’t be gentle,” his tone was low, a serpent in the grass, his visage matching as he lowered himself to your level, eyes aglow with a piercing darkness. “If only you’d behaved, it wouldn’t have come to this.”

Reblog for more content like this! It helps creators like myself tremendously and it is greatly appreciated :-)

Masterlist Masterlist [Continued] Masterpost Modern Warfare AI Masterlist

AO3 Wattpad

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vibrantlifeboringdeath · 2 years

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#a really really meaningful EP to me came out 7 years ago today #changed my taste in music forever. Revitalised my interest in guitar #also not am exaggeration to say it saved my life.#I've seen the singer live 4 times and met her once. I.#I feel grateful and weird and happy and stupid and !!!!!!!!

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anintelligentoctopus · 3 months

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I Am Not Immune To Art Store Sales

#but like i said i'm feeling creatively revitalised lately #pointless post

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haikyu-mp4 · 3 months

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Mattsun finally confessing to their oblivious manager pls? 🥺🤲 she’s the type to have flirtatious advances fly over her head and Mattsun’s not really good with words (it’s his very first confession. He’s nervous. Makki teasing him about it isn’t helping.)

Like the wind

word count; 744 – gn!reader

Matsukawa Issei was about to lose his mind. The only good thing about flirtatious advances flying right over your head like the wind was that at least you didn’t entertain any other guys who approached you either.

“You look good today.”

“I am feeling rather great, the sun shining always makes me feel revitalised.”

And Mattsun would watch with a little smirk from the sideline as you moved on to fill up water bottles as if his advances didn’t go just about the same way.

Well… except for the fact that they could hardly be called advances when he had no idea how to talk to you.

He would typically come over right as you filled the last bottle to carry the baskets for you, and when you thanked him with that pretty smile, all he could say was “Heh pfft yes. You’re welcome.”

As Makki snickered from the entrance to the gym, Mattsun felt like this might be a mission impossible even Tom Cruise couldn’t handle.

“Mattsun, y/n, go get the net, please!” Oikawa ordered, turning to Iwaizumi with a not-so-subtle wink.

“On it!” you yelled back, jogging over to the adjacent equipment room with Mattsun in tow, who was glaring over his shoulder at his friends.

You picked up the net, making an annoyed sound when a thread had gotten stuck on a hook that was a bit too high up. “Could you get that?” you asked. Issei cleared his throat, which made you take half a step back.

He leaned over you and tugged it loose, letting it fall into your arms. Now that he was standing so close, he gulped, looking at you with parted lips as if even he was wondering if any words would leave him. “Uh… good?” he stuttered, lifting a hand to pat the net.

“Excellent,” you emphasised, glancing out into the gym and then back to Mattsun. “Should we go?”

As he moved just a bit to the side, you slipped past him and scattered away, hoping he couldn’t hear the loud beating of your heart.

You’re walking to the gym in the wintertime, Iwa, Oikawa and Makki walking in front of you and Mattsun beside you, the cold biting at any exposed skin as you moved from your last lecture to the gym for practice. While thinking about something you needed to remember for that class, you started fiddling with your hands in thought, and Mattsun noticed.

“Your hands look cold,” he said, pulling the hand closest to you out of his pocket but not saying anything further.

You looked up at him and tilted your head before looking back at your hands. “Oh? Don’t worry, they’re not.”

He grumbled something along the lines of ‘great’ while watching Makki snicker in front of him, taking mental note of where his next serve would hit. The hand was quickly tucked back in his pocket like nothing happened.

It wasn’t until after the last tournament in their third year that Matsukawa finally decided to go for it. He’d watched his friends break down crying after their devastating loss and he couldn’t help how his heart softened while watching you frantically pull tissues out of a box to dry their tears.

As you checked behind you that no player was left behind, a hand touched your shoulder and slid under the strap of the equipment bag. You didn’t startle, seeing it was Mattsun. “It’s not heavy, you know I can get it,” you said with a knowing smile but didn’t make any effort to take the bag back.

“Makes me feel cool, let me have this,” he joked, and it made the two of you chuckle under your breaths as you left the gym. Having a good cry loosened up his nerves, he supposed. Walking out was bittersweet, wanting to enjoy the last bit of energy from the game while the weight of the loss sat heavily on his shoulders. You couldn’t imagine how they felt, but Matsukawa wanted you to at least know how he felt. “I like you.”

You nodded and kept walking, smiling at the tall guy by your side. “I like you too, you know that.”

He huffed, smiling affectionately but still in disbelief. “No, I like you.”

Your legs stopped moving gradually, grabbing his hand loosely as you stopped. He turned to you with an unsure grimace and you tilted your head. “Why didn’t you say so?”

“Believe me, I tried.”

masterlist

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sensiblereblogifposts · 4 months

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A while ago, I posted a petition, to stop the closing of a much loved museum, Syndeys Powerhouse museum, a place that's been under threat for years.

I need your help with this once again, (especially if you are an Aussie)

After years of threatening to close down and demolish our only science, tech and applied arts museum, and one attempt to turn it into an events center, they've come back with another plan, which basically amounts to "we're going to clear out the museum and demolish most of the structures inside. We definitely have a plan to put some cool stuff back, but we can't tell you it, but it's definitely gonna be great. Don't mind that a bunch of purpose built structures to display delicate objects are set to be demolished."

(That's an F1 Apollo rocket engine, very rare outside the USA. Almost 60 years old, now delicate, but it's going.)

"We've garunteed 3 of the most iconic items (not their accompanying collections) will come back. Pay no mind that we haven't allowed for where they're gonna go, or that the one object we can't move (rare, 250 year old working Boulton and Watts steam engine) is set to end up inside a corridor)

(There used to be room, elevated planforms even)

"Oh, also, you know that museum storage hall, so close by and practical, with a loading dock and workshops, that's also sitting on prime real estate? We're building a second loading dock and workshops in the main museum! Right where the all classrooms where!"

It's supposedly a heritage restoration, but in truth, it's based of a skewed heritage report which has been heavily criticised as I'll informed, and rigged to allow the place's removal.

Almost every detail goes against the spirit of the original musuem. The orginal museum was a fun, post modern place with a sciencey vibe,

Which transitioned fluidly into historic halls, with historic products and technology to match

The Musuem has an upper entrance designed to be welcoming, full of natural light, and evoke the feel of an old grand train station. This is to be bricked up.

Rather than restore the older galleries, theyre taking several of them out reducing display space from about 15,000m²ish to about 6000m² ish.

The historic halls included restored generator room filler with steam engines. This really put the museum on the map.

But that's going.

All that is going, in favour of

This kind of thing.

The plan to do this is on display untill end of may May 30th, Aussie time. It would help a lot if you (might be only Australians) log on and make a short comment opposing the project:

A lot more commentary on the project can be found at:

@protecpowerhous on Twitter

Or if you cant make a submission, and still haven't, please sign that petition:

The people reporting to government planning will be see it, and attention helps.

#again i will not be mass reposting this here. once or twice. i make this a rule because #there are so many important worthy causes in the world (this one is mine) of different scales #if i post other stuff on here this blog looses its purpose #and it is - and will remain - a special themed gimmic blog posting only the most rational and sensible things you could do as a Tumblr use #this is a no nonsense space with a perfect understanding of humans and what they like to do #oh also some propper tags #museums #Australia #syndey #powerhouse museum

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i-wish-this-was-me · 9 months

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Favorite fics (Oscar)

6. Oscar Piastri:

Celebrating his first win (smut)

Edging the reader and then aftercare (smut)

The green-eyed monster (smut)

Control (smut)

One more (smut)

Angry (Oscar) sex (smut)

New set (smut)

Giving head (+LN) (smut)

Too big (smut)

Cnc with Oscar (smut)

Too stressed (+MV) (smut)

Mean, dom Oscar (smut)

Blindfolded (+LN) (smut)

Rough head (smut)

Jealous of Logan (smut)

Fingered for the first time (+LN) (smut)

Wet dream (+LN) (smut)

Something unexpected (smut)

Rough day at the office (smut)

Toys are teammates (smut)

Something different (smut)

The big interview (+LN) (smut)

Squeezing so good (smut)

Giving head (smut)

Make me yours (smut)

First time squirtig (smut)

My girl (+ a bit of Carlos but he isn't THAT important) (smut)

Good cop & bad cop (+LN) (smut)!

Eating (smut)

Anything, huh? (+LN) (smut)!

Limits (smut) (OMFG I LOVE THIS SO MUCH, THIS IS SUCH A MASTERPICE, I AM IN LOVE)

Zoom (smut)

Me either (smut)

Hesitantly (smut)

Breaking point (+LN) (smut, fluff, angst)

Little slice of paradise (sweet smut)

I could show you mine (sweet smut)

Getting your period in the middle of it (smut with fluff)

We heard you (smut, fluff at the end)

Caught (smut, fluff at the end)

Overstimulated (smut, fluff at the end)

Hope you feel better (suggestive)

Bend over (suggestive)

Let's try that again (suggestive)

Slapping ass (suggestive?)

Grey sweatpants (suggestive)

She's missed you (fluff)

Call me your fool (fluff)

Crumbs (+LN) (fluff)

There's a lightness in your eyes (fluff)

Sleep buddies or dating? (fluff)

Package deal (fluff)

Haunted house (fluff)

Cute (fluff)

Breath for me (+LN) (fluff)

Tired eyes (fluff)

Tangerine (fluff)

Under the mistletoe (fluff)

Drowning in your love (fluff)

Soft mornings (fluff)

Under the mistletoe (fluff)

You revitalise me fraying bones (fluff)

Jealous for the first time (fluff)

Grey sweatpants (fluff)

Kangaroo (fluff)

Lavender Haze (fluff)

Exhausted (+LN) (fluff)

Laser tag (fluff)

Masterlist

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flowersforchoso · 10 months

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intimacies ୨୧

cw: contains suggestive themes.

(bi-han x f.reader)

he enjoys spooning in the morning. and whatever he's in the mood for, sensually rutting or ploughing into you will result in an orgasm that'll take moments to recover from while he is invigorated anew; revitalised, having nourished his virility. clinging to him as the pleasured haze fades, pleading for him to remain.

"stay for a bit, please." your arm wraps around his bicep as you look up at him, attempting to change his mind

he looks away and grunts, "i have important things to attend to." yanking off your arm and rising from the bed to prepare for the day. the lack of post-coital affection stings. you think its something you'll never quite get used to.

when he enters the room with just a towel around his waist, you bite your lip while admiring his physique, which compels him to speak

"are you aware its rude to stare?"

you smile at him, then retort, "forgive me for being unable to resist your good looks."

your words halt his movements. he just stares at you, denying the thrill of a comment, then proceeds to don his uniform and accessories; the mask completing his ensemble.

"i'll see you later" he announces without casting another glance, leaving you with the early quietude

you'll forever be ignorant of the curve of his lips behind the mask. and that this brightened mood carries on throughout the day.

sometimes, he's all over you feverishly planting kisses everywhere, no inch of skin untouched. he's had a bad day, and needs to unwind, or he's feeling particularly affectionate—the lines are blurred. but one thing is certain: the thread of patience would snap any minute. you're pressed flush against him; impossibly close, to the point it feels suffocating as his hands roam around squeezing, groping, fondling you everywhere. the pleasurable onslaught is dizzying, causing your knees to slightly buckle. he palms your breasts, eliciting a whimper out of you, "bi-han," while trying to wriggle free. he pauses to look you in the eye, an annoyance swirling within his iris. "what is it?" he queries, but it sounds more like a chide. you didn't mean to put him off, ruin the mood, muttering a sheepish "nothing," savoring the few seconds of a breather. his cheeks are tinted red. the image of an uninhibited man before you. he moves to whisper, "then be quiet" directly in your ear; the words burrow into the canal. and resumes his ministrations. this time, you can't quite escape it.

even though he appears annoyed, he actually likes it when you bother him with silly questions. "can cryomancy be taught?" you ask all of a sudden.

"no."

you gasp, beaming with innocence, "will our babies be cryomancers?"

or anything really,

"bi-han!" he frantically rushes into the room upon hearing your cry with concern etched on his features. "is something wrong? are you hurt?" he asks, examining your body for injury. "yes" you reply before patting your lips, "here."

he's a man in love so he'll indulge (just don't go overboard with it.)

when you invite him to rest his head on your lap, he obliges. you play with his hair while humming a melody that relaxes and lulls him to sleep. moments like this are his favourite; he feels completely at peace bathing in your warmth.

knit a vest? buy a hair tie? write a letter? whatever it is, its the thought that counts. he's filled with gratitude and cherishes it forever

if you're going to be away for extended periods of time, a lackey is assigned to ensure your protection. dark eyes and stealthy movements follow you about, all oblivious to you. he takes his responsibility to you seriously

loves to share meals with you, especially his. its just a really intimate activity to indulge in but if you tried to feed him, he'd refuse.

he is bashful if he walks in on you undressing or having a bath. regardless of how many times he's seen you in the nude, he murmurs an apology before turning away. the moments after are so awkward because he's ridden with guilt for being aroused by your figure, oscillating between respect and objectification. underneath his crude, tough as nails exterior lies a gentleman.

fun times with board games. if he doesn't know how to play, you teach him and vice-versa. this is when you notice his competitive streak.

asking for his opinions, particularly on changes to your appearance; a new hairstyle/color, outfit etc. he always seems unethused or negative about it but in actuality, it's the opposite and this reflects in his behaviour. he just wants the visual feast to himself; stave off wandering eyes and potential competition.

one of the very rare times you see him crack a laugh is when you blurt out random chinese. he's taken aback at first since what you said was gibberish, wondering where it came from; until you tell him you've been practicing to impress him. "don't embarrass yourself" he reprimands, though there's no real bite to it, then rewards your efforts with a baritone chuckle

#bi han x reader #sub zero x reader #bi han x you #sub zero x you #mortal kombat 1 sub zero #bi han sub zero #mortal kombat 1 #mk1 sub zero x reader #mk1 bi han #bi han mk1

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