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kerrslvr · 3 months

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occupied // sam kerr

summary; in which, sam recognises the hotel housekeepers face, and when she walks in on sam in a compromised position, she sees if she fancies giving her a helping hand.

warnings; cocky!sam, dom!sam, sub!reader, oral, fingering, spitting, finger gagging, language, strap ons, penatrative sex, multiple orgasms, i think that's it lol. this hasnt been proofread so i apologise for spelling errors/things not making sense. i got very overwhelmed at the end of this and i just wanted to get it out. thank u to @landopeaches for being my hypewoman every single time x

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as you pushed your trolley down the hall, you noticed how quiet it was, with most of the guests still sleeping, and while you wished you were still sleeping, your shift had just begun.

your job was inarguably one of the most boring, mundane jobs in the world, but the money was enough to keep you afloat and if any relitively nice or unused clothes, jewelry or cosmetics were left in rooms, you normally kept them for yourself which was really the only bonus. that, and you got free use of the bar, pool, gym and sauna.

most people that stayed in the hotel would have a paper hanger on the door if they were still using their room, whether they were there or not, although some rooms were just luck of the draw. you could swing open that door and wouldn't know whether you'd see a dead body or a couple going at it, although it was entertaining regardless.

room 724 didn't have a hanger on it's door, and so you figured you'd at least try it. regardless of whether somebody was in there or not, they'd probably be sleeping, or be down at breakfast, or in the gym round the corner. at least, that's what you thought.

oh, how wrong you were.

"oh, f-fuck."

sam's fingers were shaking as she pushed her shorts down her legs with one hand while the other stayed tucked into her underwear. she wasn't sure what came over her that morning, maybe it was the newfound freedom of single life, or the strap-on and toys she had sitting on the shelf in front of her that filled her head with past memories, or the pretty girl she saw at the pool the day before who she hadn't been able to stop thinking about.

it didn't matter in the long run, not really. she was horny and she was desperate for an orgasm.

her fingers brushed her clit multiple times in quick succession and she pulled a lip between her teeth. she wasn't sure why she felt as if she had to be quiet, she'd fucked many different women in this hotel and hadn't had any complaints from her neighbours when they walked out with shaky legs after screaming repeatedly for a few hours.

if the walls were thick enough for her to fuck screamers, they were thick enough for her to sort herself out.

"fuckin' hell," she breathed, allowing her fingers to slip through her own folds and feel herself up. her breath continued to shake, and a moan left her lips when she added another finger to the pressure on her clit.

her free hand felt a bit left out - sam wasn't really one for stimulating her own chest, she normally had a pretty girl on top of her that she could easily slide up onto her face high enough to suck one of her nipples into her mouth and feel the slick of their pussy grinding on her stomach. just the image of that alone sparked a fire inside of sam's body, and her fingers picked up the pace at the thought.

"mhm, o-oh, god," she whimpered, bucking her hips up into her hand and admiring the reflection of her muscles flexing in the mirror beside the bed. "can't cum yet, no matter how good i am."

at least she made herself laugh.

she was really finding her groove, and getting into the rhythm of her fingers, so much so that she didn't even hear the door latch unlocking.

at first, you didn't hear the moaning or the slight creak of the bed, and in a way, you're glad you didn't. she was the hot girl from the pool you'd been eyeing up yesterday. you continued to walk through, only to find her with her shorts round her ankles and her hand in her pants. she was shirtless, completely naked from the waist up and it made your mind spiral.

she still looked as if she'd not been awake very long, her hair still scruffy in a low ponytail and her cheeks and eyes still slightly puffy from sleep, and a glass of water sat untouched on the bedside table along with a mobile phone.

it impressed you that she could get off with just her imagination.

you were so bewildered by the sight in front of you it was as if your feet were glued to the ground, you couldn't move from that spot. even when she noticed you, standing their in your maid outfit. she thought it was a joke, that the people in the rooms next door had heard her moans, and sent up an escort knowing she was alone in the room. that was, until she saw the hotel's name embroidered into the top of the dress.

"oh, uh, s-sorry, i'll... i'll come back later."

at first, she was confused, almost agitated that the housekeeper had come in and interrupted her, and she almost, very nearly, pulled her hand from her underwear and phoned down to reception. that was, until she recognised your face.

the pretty girl from the pool. the one she couldn't stop thinking of. the one she envisioned on top of her, leaving a wet, sticky patch on her skin. she smirked.

"no, you're alright, darlin'," she shifted, her hand still in her pants and brushing against her clit as she moved, "you're the girl from the pool, yeah?"

"uh.. yeah. from yesterday."

"and is this a set up? are you an escort or something? or do you actually work here?"

"well, judging by that," you gestured to the cleaning cart down the side of the room, blocking the entrance, "i'd say i work here."

"great, i don't have to ask you to lock the door behind you then."

your eyebrows furrowed and you looked at her, confused. "i beg your pardon?"

she pulled her hand from her underwear and sucked a finger into her mouth, tasting herself on her fingertips. you couldn't deny the sight before you was already sending heat to your pussy, and you also couldn't deny that she was one of the hottest girls you'd ever laid eyes on.

"help me out, love," she said, so simply, so effortlessly, so desperately, before taking the same finger back into her mouth. "give me a couple of orgasms and i'll give you a pretty good tip."

you hummed, thinking over her offer. "what's in it for me?"

"i just told you," she pushed her legs open further and your head began to spin, "a pretty good tip."

silence fell among you both for a minute as you pondered the offer again. a pretty good tip in her words could've been ten percent or it could've been fifty. or, if your mouth was as good as you knew it was, who knows? maybe you could negotiate the offer.

"if the tips not good enough for you," you expected her to throw the offer away, telling you to forget it if her offer wasn't to your liking, "then i'll fuck you, make you cry, give you a shag that'll be enough to have you desperate for more of me."

"sounds like you're begging."

"do you want to take up the offer or not?"

silence fell again, and for a moment she expected you to turn and run, and you did turn; but to look at her collection of toys on the shelf. she smirked when you bent down slightly to inspect them further, plus, it meant she got to see your arse.

"so, i give you a couple of orgasms, you'll give me a pretty good tip," you hummed, and pulled a dildo from her collection, "and you'll fuck me with this one, how does that sound?"

she smirked and sucked another one of her fingers into her mouth. she knew your answer was yes when you started to pull your apron from the back of your dress, and she watched it fall to the floor.

"it sounds excellent, darlin'," she hummed, "but what doesn't sound good is this little attitude you've got. you're here to help me out, not the other way around. no orgasm, no fuck. understand?"

your underwear were soaked through by this point, and you nodded.

"need to hear you say it, darling."

"i-i understand."

"good," she pulled her finger from her mouth with a pop, "c'mon then, get your dress off, show me those pretty tits and get up on the bed."

you did as she asked, slipping the dress off over your head and taking your bra with it, leaving you stripped to just your underwear, small heeled black shoes and suspenders, which, of course, she wanted you to keep on.

she rested her back against the headboard and you didn't waste any time, your lips immediately pressing into her thighs. she halted your movements for a second and shifted across the bed, in which you followed. at the time, you weren't sure why but you later found out that it was so she could look at the reflection of your behind in the mirror.

she pressed her hand to your jawbone and you looked up at her, "sam, by the way, remember that for later," she shot you a smirk, "and i didn't see the badge on your name because i was too eager to see your tits."

"y/n." you replied, purposely arching your back lower so that she could get a better view in the mirror.

your lips gravitated back towards her inner thighs, your fingers grazing the line of her underwear. she was clearly not in the mood to be teased judging by her hand on your head and her agitated tension, and you wanted a fuck so you stopped.

but, not completely.

your tongue grazed her clit through the soft material of her pants, making an immediate wet patch and she jolted back. your hands pushed at her thighs and spread them apart further so you had enough space to work your magic.

a moan left her lips at your messy, spit covered face. her underwear was completely soaked with your spit, and she rolled her eyes back into her head when you pulled at the material between your fingers and watched as it split in two, leaving enough room down the middle for you to do what you had to do.

"covered in spit already, babe, hm?"

you nodded, a slight hum noise coming from your mouth and reverberating around her vagina, making her squirm underneath you. immediately, she couldn't figure out whether she regretted her decision on fucking you, or whether she thought it was the best thing she'd ever conjured up.

either way, her orgasm was fast approaching.

you hadn't eaten pussy for a while and your jaw was beginning to ache, but you weren't prepared to give up now. one hand slipped between your body and hers, and you spread her lips apart giving yourself more room to work with, and she moaned again, much louder this time.

"gonna make me cum, darlin'."

"already? god, you really were desperate, weren't you, hm?"

"three strikes and you're walking back to reception without your clothes on, y/n," she leaned over your body and slapped your arse, it was loud and the sound ricocheted around the room, leaving a harsh, bright red sting. "that's strike one. don't make me slap you again."

you moaned against her pussy and the vibration rippled through her body and you could feel the muscles of her pubic bone, thighs and stomach all tensing against your skin, and you smirked against her pussy as you continued to eat her out, purposely making your movements loud and sloppy so she could hear them reverberating around her ears for months to come.

"oh, fuck," she cursed, a hand flying to your hair and bunching it in a ponytail, "i'm gonna.. oh, fuck, you're gonna make me-"

"cum for me, sam."

"fuck," she hissed, her hips grinding down on your face as her orgasm rippled over her body, her stomach muscles involuntarily convulsing as her body reeled from the effects of her long awaited orgasm. "oh, jesus christ."

she pulled your head up and admired your skin, glistening with her juices and it was an image that was forever engraved in her brain. she leaned down and carefully, delicately kissed your lips, so as not to ruin the masterpiece her body had made across your face.

you hummed when she pulled away, and followed her lips back up to the pillows, where you instinctively pressed your lips back up against hers and slipped your tongue into her mouth. she allowed the experience, and brought a hand up to the base of your neck where she applied light pressure.

her tongue slipped between your mouth and for a minute you thought about biting her lip and silently scolding her for the move, but you only had two strikes left and the wet patch in your underwear was threatening to seep onto the bedsheets any minute.

you moaned at the pressure on your neck combined with the touch of her tongue on yours and she smirked against your lips, desperate to pull more of the noise from your body. you pulled away first, in desperate need to take a breath.

"lay down, sam," you sucked on the space of skin just below her ear, your words igniting a fire inside her body, "i wanna make you cum again."

she was so used to being the one on top, the one who made other girls feel good that this was a nice surprise. although, the pair of you knew that she was the one in charge, not the other way around.

she laid herself back down, and you immediately cocooned your body around one side of hers, your naked chest resting on her arm and one leg draped over hers as you pushed her muscular calves apart with your foot. your head buried itself in the crook of her neck and you sucked yet another spot under her neck, allowing a bruise to bloom under your teeth.

she moaned breathily, and your hand lowered itself over her exceptionally toned body, travelling lower until your delicate hand was hovering over her tanned skin, the angle of your hand accentuating the v-line leading down to her pubic bone and it made your clit twitch.

your lips trailed down to her collarbone, and slowly and softly, you started to suck on the skin of her chest. she shifted slightly, adjusting to the feeling of your lips edging closer and closer to her nipple, while your fingers carefully brushed against her clit.

she whimpered, but you shushed her with a soft coo, and carried on with your movements. her pussy was wet, coating your fingers in her own lubricant that made it much easier to explore, while your tongue carefully circled a nipple and it left her reeling.

"f-fuck, oh my god," she groaned, her muscles already shaking and tensing out of sheer pleasure, "feels so good, baby, don't stop."

you hummed, and instinctively bucked your hips into her thigh so she could get an insight into how wet your pussy was too, and it made her chuckle softly.

"so wet for each other, aren't we baby?" she spoke softly, "want me to touch your clit too?"

you nodded slightly too eagerly, with her nipple in your mouth, and she shifted her arm so it was stretched just enough to be able to brush your clit every few moments. you wanted more, so much more, but you knew to be grateful rather than greedy if you still wanted your fuck.

as soon as her finger circled your clit, you let out a big whimpery moan, desperate for more, but then she pinched your bum with her free hand and you knew you had to carry on. her hips began to buck when you sped up the movement of your fingers, adding a second to the pressure point on her clit that left her reeling for more.

you knew she wouldn't be long, and you were desperate to get it over with so you could get your kicks, while also wanting her to enjoy the experience and have it leave a lingering impact.

her breathing laboured as you sucked the other nipple into your mouth, and weaved your free hand between your bodies so you could stimulate her other one at the same time, so she had everything going on all at once that was enough to overstimulate her and give her exactly what she wanted all at once.

she started to grind down on your fingers, much like she did with your face, and her free hand grabbed your wrist and held it flush against her body.

"want me to cum again, hm, baby?"

you nodded, a gasp escaping your lips as she added another finger to the pressure on your clit, mirroring what you'd done to her. "y-yes," you choked, "cum all over my hand, p-please."

the sound of your broken voice, the whimpers tumbling from your lips, she found it all too much and couldn't help herself when her second orgasm rippled through her body. she practically growled, her body igniting in flames.

she looked hot underneath you, your eyes scanning over her body with eagerness as her orgasm rocked through her. you pulled a lip between your teeth and watched with admirable eyes right up until the aftershocks of her orgasm faded away.

"hey," she laughed, "you're good at that, aren't you, darlin'?"

"not just a pretty face, sam."

"no, you most certainly are not," she spun around so she was on her side, and allowed you to fall to your back against the mattress, "i wonder if your pussy is as pretty as your face, hm?"

she slid your pants down your thighs until they pooled at your ankles, and she admired the glisten of your wet pussy that shone in the sunlight, and didn't waste any time in getting a taste of you.

"oh... oh my.... s-sam, you're..."

"i'm a woman of my word, babe," she pulled away from your pussy and kissed across the inside of your thighs, "i'll fuck you, i will, but i just need to open you up first, hm? make sure you're nice and wet for my cock, darling."

you nodded, wriggling around on the bed until she stilled you. the anticipation was agonizing. she stilled you with a hand over your stomach, and her tongue moved back to circle your clit, the fingers from her other hand trailing around the lips of your pussy.

you were desperate, aching for the feeling of her fingers inside of you, and so repeatedly teased with circles around your hole, until eventually she slipped them in. one, at first, gently stretching you out with an expert finger.

this was in fact, not her first rodeo.

"tastes so sweet baby, you wanna taste?"

"mhm, please," you hummed.

sam's fingers pressed in and out of you, in and out, in and out, until she gathered enough of your wetness, and you opened your mouth thinking she was going to stick her fingers on your tongue. only she didn't, she licked her own fingers clean and you sat there with furrowed brows until her body drew closer to yours.

she pried open your jaw and spat your juices into your own mouth which left you spiraling. she held your mouth open and let your tongue hang out over your lip, and she continued to spit into your mouth until your tongue was covered in her own saliva.

"what a pretty little spit painted picture you are, y/n," she teased before her fingers slid down your throat and gagged you. you choked around her fingers and instinctively grabbed her wrist, "you got a safeword in mind?"

you nodded and she carried on, her fingers sliding down your throat until the muscles contracted and you gagged, spluttering and coughing when her hand pulled its way back out. her lips pressed against yours in a sloppy, wet kiss and her still-wet fingers slid between your folds and they slid inside you so much easier now.

"oh, f-fuck, sam, y-you feel so... your fingers..."

she smirked, that was the kind of moaning she was used to.

her thumb rubbed your clit aggressively and her fingers continued to curl in and out of your pussy so to stretch you out, getting you ready for her cock.

your whimpers and moans were enough to send her into overdrive, and she knew she couldn't handle it much longer. she pulled her fingers out of you and pulled her lips away from yours, and you lay there, fucked out, when she'd barely even touched you.

"keep playing with your pussy while i do this, babe," she rolled her eyes when you mewled at the loss of contact and pinched your cheeks together, "or else you're getting fucking nothing."

"o-okay."

you did as she said and pressed two fingers against your clit, carefully applying pressure that made your head spin. you watched sam get up from the bed and immediately pull her legs through the harness on the shelf. you couldn't help but squirm and moan as you watched her from behind, the view of her front in the mirror as she looped the loops so effortlessly.

"you okay there, baby?"

"i... fuck, i need you so bad, sam."

she turned over her shoulder to watch you as her hands continued to loop the loops and tie the knots, and she smirked. "i know, baby, i know," she grabbed the dildo from the bed, "my cock's almost ready for you, isn't it, darling? hm? you keeping your pussy nice and wet for daddy?"

you froze. just for a moment. at the word she'd given herself, unsure what to make of the situation. and then a moan tumbled from your lips. it was hot, really.

"y-yeah, daddy."

"good girl," she turned around once the dildo was secured, and grabbed the lube from the many different trinkets on her shelf and moved over to the bed, "show me your pussy, baby."

your hands spread your pussy apart right in front of her, allowing her full access. she pumped lube into her hand and spread it all across the base of her cock - not that she really needed it, you were already wet enough, but she just liked to put on a show.

she crawled up the bed on her knees to you until she was kneeling between your legs, and in your desperation you hooked your legs around hers and pulled her in. she chuckled at your eagerness.

your breathing was laboured as you watched her balancing herself on her knees and getting into a comfortable position. she guided her dick to your wet folds and allowed herself to tease you, just for a minute, and her lips locked into yours as she slid inside of you.

immediately, you gasped as every inch slid inside of you piece by piece. "oh, oh, fuck," you whined, "i knew you'd have insane dick game."

her hands spread your thighs apart further, and her strokes became deeper as she fought to hit every spot. you couldn't stop the whines and whimpers that escaped your lips, tumbling out of your mouth with every turn.

your legs wrapped around her waist, leaving her body flush against yours and trapping her in so she had to finish the job she'd promised. your bodies were slick with sweat, and it was arguably some of the best sex you'd ever had.

"your pussy is so fucking wet, y/n," she grunted, pulling out all the way and rubbing the tip of her cock along your clit, before pushing back in, "and yet it's still so fucking tight."

you nodded, moaning deliriously as she hooked one of your legs over her shoulder, allowing the stretch to become deeper, harder, stronger.

"it's still a pussy that was made for you, daddy," you breathed, wrapping an arm around her neck and pulling her down to your lips, "don't you agree?"

sam made a noise akin to a growl, her teeth coming into contact with your bottom lip, biting and tugging on the flesh as if it were her own to play with.

"yeah," she grunted, "my perfect little pussy."

you moaned, raising your back up off the bed and pressing your chest up against hers. her fingers drew messy circles around your clit and you began clenching around her cock, the butterflies in your stomach beginning to swarm.

"sam... 'm gonna, i don't think i..."

"surely you're not going to cum already, darling? i haven't even turned you over yet."

with that, sam pulled out and spun you around, your head pressed into the pillows. she moved you how she wanted you, her perfectly eager little doll, with your arms up on your back and your arse up in the air, giving her leverage to grip your arms as she fucked you full force.

one hand gripped your wrists, while the other spread apart your cheeks as best she could, and as you felt a dribble of spit travelling down from your bum to your pussy you whined and writhed.

"stop being so dramatic, darling," she pinched your bum, "please just let me fuck you."

your words jumbled in the pillowcase and sam didn't have the patience to stop and ask you what it was. she wanted to see you cumming and she wanted to be the one to do it. her thrusts were rapid, the consistent rhythm making you dizzy, and you didn't think you'd be able to keep your composure for much longer.

"sam... s-sam, please, i-i can't..."

"what do you want, pretty girl? hm? you gonna tell me?"

"i... i need to... please let me cum," you struggled with your words through the relentless thrusting of her hips but you were teetering on the edge and you physically couldn't hold it much longer. "please."

your pussy clenched around her dick and she knew you wouldn't last much longer, "seeing as you asked so nicely, my darling, why don't you cum all over my cock."

your hands gripped at nothing, and you'd be left with the sting of your fingernails digging into your skin for hours to come, but you didn't really care in that moment. sam continued to fuck you through your orgasm, her mind reeling as you practically exploded all over her.

every moan and whimper you had rolled into one and your words became incoherent from just before your orgasm hit you, to until you'd ridden it out.

sam pulled her cock out of your pussy and it was followed by a little trickle of juices, which she immediately bent down to lick up. you shuddered and instinctively moved your body away, and she noticed this, patting you on the leg softly.

"i'm still here, until next wednesday," she said after a few minutes of silence, sliding some shorts on over her strap-on, "i was just wondering if you fancied doing this again?"

"gonna tip me every time? seeing as you think i'm an escort," you both laughed and she handed you your clothes as you sat round the side of the bed, "no, that would be nice. but, maybe not while i'm working."

she smirked. "what time does your shift finish?"

"probably about one thirty, providing i don't get fired."

"don't worry," she threw a shirt on over her head, "i'll make sure to give you a glowing review."

#sam kerr #sam kerr x reader #sam kerr smut #sam kerr fluff #sam kerr imagine #woso #woso fic #woso fanfic #woso community #woso soccer #woso fanfics #woso blurbs #woso imagine #woso one shot #woso smut #woso x reader #auswnt x reader #auswnt

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eternalterror · 7 months

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pick-a-card: your biggest strengths 💥

• take time to breathe, focus and clear your mind.

• when you feel ready, ask yourself “what are my biggest strengths?”

• if you feel drawn to multiple piles, read them both/all. if you don’t feel drawn to any, then this pick-a-card isn’t for you.

please let me know if any of this resonates! feedback is greatly appreciated! ❤️

Image 1:

- you recognize your own greatness

- you have good street smarts

- you aren’t afraid to be different and go against the popular opinions.

- you’ve learned how to carry yourself and handle things through your life experiences

- you’re good at guiding yourself and others

- you are able to accept things for what they are

- you aren’t afraid to go through major changes to make way for new beginnings

Image 2:

- your natural beauty

- your good hearted nature and habit of breaking toxic behavior patterns

- your “only god can judge me” type of mentality

- your independence and uniqueness. you’re quite original.

- your willpower, you aren’t the type to fall victim to destructive addictive habits, and if you do, you kick them easier and sooner than most.

- your ability to see things from another perspective

- your faith in the universe or god (although I’m leaning towards god/religion here)

Image 3:

- your adventurous spirit

- your devotion to developing spiritually

- your discipline

- your ability to take the lead and guide others with ease

- your storytelling abilities

- your understanding that money can be destructive as much as it is beneficial, you won’t get swept away by greed.

- your soulfulness

- your passion and devotion

- your loving personality and enthusiasm towards love and other people

- your appreciation of what you have and your appreciation for others

Image 4:

- you have a healthy vengeful spirit, you won’t let people get one over on you or your loved ones

- you aren’t afraid to act first and go after what you believe in

- you’re confrontational

- you may have trust issues or are skeptical of others, but for good reason. it’s protecting you. keep it up.

- you really do keep the snakes away, a lot of the cards are focusing on how good it is free yourself from negative people and destructive social groups, don’t ever feel bad about this.

- you’re a genuinely generous person

- you are tolerant and understanding

- you are respectful and gain a lot of respect in return

Image 5:

- you’re resilient and can handle a lot of mental stress and pressure that would make most crumble

- you can push your body/mind to the limit. this may not be a good thing, but it’s carried you far. learn to take a step back to recuperate though.

- you’re good at coming up with solutions to peoples problems

- you’re strategic and creative yet practical.

- you help people in a way that they’ll appreciate in the long run

- you’re good at going through the motions. highs and lows.

- you know how to make people feel like family or like you really cherish them

- you know how to go with the flow

Image 6:

- you can be very business-minded

- you have good senses and can pick up on things

- you really just don’t let things go over your head

- people think you have boss energy or leadership potential and may treat you as such

- you aren’t afraid to experiment and try things over until you get it right

- you aren’t predictable or conventional

- you aren’t the type to easily be peer pressured or bossed around

- you’re daring and bold with a fighting spirit

- you stand on what you say and can defend your own beliefs

- you have a lot of determination

#tarot #tarot readings #free tarot readings #tarot reading #kpop tarot #celebrity tarot #celebrity tarot readings #pick a card #pac

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spacexseven · 1 year

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Imagine waiting months for that one long holiday, finally youre able to go back home to your family...only to be kidnapped by doa on the day of your departure...how unfortunate

yandere content, kidnapping

manga spoilers about doa + kamui's identity. featuring all 5 doa members. there's a 'route' for each character. unedited, and much longer than i expected.

the least they could have done was be a little gentler going about it.

but of course, you had to suffer through being wrapped up into a coat and tossed into a portal like you were simply a bag of flesh and bone. the humiliation of needing someone to help you in your disorientated state once you tumbled out somewhere else and the nonchalant attitude of your kidnappers only made you more angrier.

any escape attempts didn't get you far; though the windows weren't barred, one look outside the huge ones behind sigma's desk told you all you needed to know—you were suspended mid-air, and it didn't help that there were armed guards constantly surveilling the building, and cameras in every corner. (and, you wouldn't admit it, but your kidnappers really frightened you. they were all ability users, and more importantly, all completely insane).

after multiple failed attempts at sneaking out through the door or hiding between customer's bags, threatening a guard to escort you out and even trying to hijack one of the cars, you decide to change up your methods. maybe instead of running away now, you could try and exploit your kidnappers and leave when they're finally trusting of you...?

CHOICE #1: SIGMA

you don't like any of your kidnappers, but the only one you could stand was sigma, who was probably the most 'normal' out of them. though you mostly came to that conclusion because he had yet to threaten you for trying to run, his lack of an offensive ability, too, was a huge factor in it.

and sigma was...kinder, in a way, easier to dissect and play into the arms of. you didn't have to say anything to keep him from using his ability on you, in fact, he confessed to you that he feared his ability would make you trust him less, and so he held back from touching you altogether. despite it being a non-offensive type ability, if he used it on you, he'd have immediately found out about your plans, so it was for the best.

it's not as hard to pretend to like sigma, because you found him sort of endearing. it's not difficult to let out a few chuckles when he comes running over to you with a book about jokes that nikolai was reading, trying to make you laugh with them. it comes almost naturally when you sit beside him into the late hours of the night, watching him do his managerial duties and study his customers, and you almost forget you're supposed to be using him. it's easier than you'd expect to confide in him your fears of fyodor and the jerk who threw you into his coat, admitting to him that you can't bring it in yourself to be around without being filled with a sense of fear. he reciprocates it all greatly, wrapping an arm around you (and by now, you realize, he doesn't even consider using his ability on you anymore. if there's anything he wants to know, mundane things like what you like to eat and how you like your coffee, he just observes you and finds out himself, or asks you) when you're drowning in your own sorrows, teaching you card tricks in his spare time and bringing you presents that he thought you'd like; little snow globes and records that remind him of you, things of that sort.

you have to remind yourself that your kindness is an act and not genuine. after all, this man was part of the group that brought you here to satisfy their own sick desires. sometimes though, you find yourself hoping that sigma wasn't as bad, that he would understand your feelings.

clearly, he doesn't.

"i can't believe you," his voice comes out as a choked whisper, his eyes fixated on your cornered figure, "you were going to leave?!"

sigma's back was to the door, effectively blocking your escape route. he was trembling all over, clearly overwhelmed and crestfallen by everything that had just taken place. you had tried to sneak away while on a shopping trip with sigma, only the second time that you were allowed to go out, but he had caught on pretty quickly, and now you were trapped.

"let me go," you plead, hoping to appeal to his sympathetic side, "please, sigma."

he shakes his head, still glued to the door, "no. i can't. you can't leave me."

"out of everyone else, i hoped you would understand. i thought you knew how i felt, trapped with dostoevsky."

sigma's eyes widen, confusion clear on his face before he exhales sharply and straightens himself out, seemingly deciding on something, "i'm sorry, [name], but i won't let you go. this is the only way i can have you."

"you're so cruel," he whispers, watching your devastated expression, "why did you make me believe you loved me?"

CHOICE #2: KAMUI

the hooded figure of kamui never failed to invoke a sudden sense of eeriness he made an appearance.

he didn't come by very often, but whenever he did, fukuchi always took a moment to come check up on you. at least when he's not donning his mask and cloak, he looks a lot less...frightening. you're not sure if he has anything to do with your kidnapping, because his interest in you rarely went past a curious glance and the occasional, hearty laugh when he comes across you shrieking at nikolai's attempts to drag you away from the open door.

you're not sure to make of him, with his fake public persona and his involvement with the doa, but he isn't as much of a threat to you as the rest, at least not directly. at the very least, when he comes over, nikolai is so much on edge that he doesn't try to torment you as much as he usually does.

fukuchi regards you as something to serve as entertainment; dostoevsky's newest toy, as you hear him say in passing. he watches you like you're something novel, like he hasn't figured you out yet. since he wasn't as involved as the others inside the casino, you thought he would be your best option to try and exploit.

your attempt at getting to know him starts by offering small greetings.

"captain," you say, waving at him as he walks into your room, where sigma is asleep on your shoulder.

he observes the two of you with an oddly soft look in his eyes, a stark contrast to his usual hardened gaze that stays even with a large smile on his face. then, he nods at you before walking away, gently closing the door behind him.

you try to open up around him more, even if it's not through conversing directly with him. even though you know he's watching you from the corner when nikolai is trying to coax you out of your new hiding spot with little treats, you don't shy away as you usually would. you loudly proclaim to nikolai that you'd only come out when fyodor stops being so mean, which is received with a exuberant laugh from the older man. huh, was that all it would take?

and it works, oddly enough—fukuchi starts asking about you, whenever he sees you after that, in between hushed conversations with fyodor, ("and how are you, [name]? is dostoevsky still being mean to you?" you force yourself to ignore fyodor's pointed glare and instead offer a meek smile). he makes more conversation, and you quickly realize he likes your honest comments, even if it was all just criticizing his subordinates. you think he must find you amusing, like a spiteful pet that doesn't give up an opportunity to attack, especially when he places a large hand on your head to stroke your hair, unexpectedly tender despite his ruthless exterior.

"why do you keep trying to run?" he asks you one day, after nikolai had dropped your bound figure back into the room.

you huff, "what do you mean, why? why would anyone want to stay here? any longer and i might go insane."

"oh? that isn't good," he smiles, but it's not the warm ones he gives you. this was...unnerving, "dostoevsky will have no use for you then."

your eyes light up, immediately considering a new plan to have fyodor throw you out himself, but you're interrupted by fukuchi's low chuckle, a dark gleam in his eyes, "worry not! even if he doesn't want you anymore, i'll gladly keep you. if i had known that dostoevsky had picked up such a curious little thing, i would have taken you before he had...well, what do you say?"

CHOICE #3: BRAM

to be honest, you felt for bram.

in a way, he was living just as miserably as you, locked up in a coffin and taken out only when he's needed, and without most of his body. it must be awfully disorientating to be shaken about by the stake through him, and he's always looked so...unhappy.

you're not sure how much help he could be in your plan to escape, except maybe provide emotional support, but who's to say he wasn't a resentful old vampire who wanted you to stay and suffer with him?

you soon learn, through awkward, stilted conversation and silent periods that bram is...not really as angry or scornful as you thought. he is bitter, and extremely uninterested in most things, but as long as you listen to his stories and provide your wholehearted support, he's surprisingly kind to you.

he doesn't even bother trying to offer any hope of escape, though. he tells you that you, like him, should just go to sleep and wait for the others to decide what they'll do with you. he reminds you that there's no escape from a heavily guarded, heavily surveilled casino suspended in the sky, and there's no escape from dostoevsky's cunning words or kamui's wicked plans. you're stuck here, just like him, left to lament the past.

when you suggest him using his ability on you, hoping that by being turned into a vampire under bram's control, he could find a way for you to escape, he looks horrified by the very thought. ("it's too much work for me now," he remarks, looking visibly irked, "to be turning humans. besides, what kind of foolish plan is that? and right after i informed you that i myself am not aware of the casino's layout.")

at least you have a friend here, even if he's constantly discouraging your escape attempts and convincing you to accept your fate. life would be terribly bleak if you were entirely alone.

CHOICE #4: NIKOLAI

out of the five, you hate nikolai the most.

your increased anger towards him stemmed from him being the one to actually kidnap you, as well as his daily attempts to get you to 'open up', which included him dragging you out of your room and annoying you incessantly until your patience snaps, relishing in your furious expressions. the most infuriating part of it all is that nikolai was never put off by your silent rage or your clear disdain, instead finding it all great fun. he thinks your frustrated words and attempts at hiding away should serve as his entertainment. nikolai laughs when you try to run, and he's always the one that whisks you back into the casino, no matter how far you've gotten. he never stops your escapes, though, almost as though he knows you'll end up back here, like he knows he'll catch up with you in the end.

but he's also unpredictable; for as much as he claims to love his job, he also tells you he hates it, and for every word of praise he has for fyodor and sigma, there are just as many potential murder plots. he's near impossible to read, but you think that maybe, he won't kill you unless you start boring him.

so if your escape served as entertainment for him, wouldn't he be more receptive about helping you?

you start off by seeking some civil conversation with him, but it's not working very well. nikolai tends to send any casual conversation spiraling into...odd directions, half of which you can't understand at all. and you almost start to feel like he doesn't want you to get to know him...still, you've got nothing else to lose now, so you keep it up. you entertain his ideas and go along with his pranks (even if it earns you an exhausted glance from sigma and thinly veiled anger from bram), you read the books he reads and watch the things he does at a mostly useless attempt to figure out his angle, and you even put in more effort in your escape plots, just so he doesn't get bored of you. but it's all in vain, however, because nikolai isn't someone you can just figure out. he's someone you're not sure you can even come close to understanding, let alone manipulating.

in the end, you decide the best approach is being forward with him.

"are you really asking me to make a deal for your life?" nikolai throws his head back in laughter, "this is why i like you! i was worried you were starting to lose your spark."

"i suppose we could come to an agreement" you should have known, really, that nothing good was going to come out of this when you caught sight of the malicious grin on his face and the wicked glint in his uncovered eye, "how about a game?"

"a game?" you don't bother hiding the skepticism in your tone.

"it's very simple! i'll give you an hour to leave the casino. all you have to do is step out of the building entrance, and i'll let you free. in fact, i'll even make sure that none of the others come after you after your victory!"

"but if you fail," his grin widens, "then you'll be leaving your fate in my hands."

the vague threat, combined with his unsettling expression fills you with a overwhelming fear. as if noticing this, he laughs. but now that you've put the idea in his head, you're not sure if he'll ever let it go.

"don't worry! either way, i'm sure we'll be having lots of fun!"

CHOICE #5: FYODOR

something was terribly off with the way fyodor looked at you.

despite the gentle smile on his face and the lovely way he said your name, all soft and gentle, there was an oddly distant look in his eyes. he observed you closely and made conversation—revolving around surprisingly mundane questions like have you read this book and what do you think of this movie, and are you familiar with this dish and this composer? and his tone is curious, a charming turn of his lips accompanying his careful probing, making for quite the lovely picture. but there was something meticulously crafted about it, almost like his words were practised and his reactions stilted. there was nothing genuine about the fond smiles or the barely-there touches. you wondered if perhaps, he was waiting for you to do something.

but you have to admit, you'll take the dread creeping over your shoulder over the blatant terror you're faced with when you talk to kamui, or nikolai. apart from his unsettling exterior, fyodor makes for decent company. he's quiet, but not the awkward silence that envelopes you when sigma runs out of things to say, and his questions never feel too invasive. he has a certain charm about him, you think, that makes him somewhat likeable, despite you knowing that he actively plays a part in whatever evil the doa performed.

these days, you spend more time with him. you find that the books he gives you are interesting, although not your usual taste, and that you look forward to seeing what he would lend you next. and the more you're around him, the more curious you get. why was he so...detached from you? why did he feel so disinterested despite being the one to initiate conversation? you try to listen for any indication of interest, and you think you find a trace when sigma tells him about preparations being complete, or when nikolai brings in some papers. later, you hear the same change in tone when you ask him why you've been brought here.

"why?" he smiles at you, and it's as beautiful as it is frightening, "i thought you may be of use to me."

"am i? all i do is sit around and...wait for something to happen."

"patience, [name]. i'm sure you'll figure it out on your own, you're quite smart, aren't you?" though his smile is still on his face, the hint of condescension in his tone doesn't escape you. you don't expect anything else from him, anyway.

one day, after you manage to evade nikolai long enough to sneak off to the lobby of the casino, fyodor stops by your crouched figure in a corner, still upset after nikolai's threats.

the ever present smile is still there, "caught again?"

you sigh, and look away.

then, he leans in closer, until his cold lips brush against the tip of your ear, "you might want to try the staff exit next time, or explore for other exits. there are many ways to come in and out the casino." you shiver, but his words spark a new flame of resolve in you. you've never seen fyodor come in through the main entrance, and he leaves quite often. if you insisted on seeing him out next time, you might have a better chance at escaping...

he doesn't look the slightest bit surprised when you walk with him as he's leaving a few days after, only glancing at you as he slipped on his coat. sigma frowns at you from the corner of the room, but noticing fyodor beside you, he goes back to his papers immediately. it must be nice having such an effect on people.

he's silent throughout most the walk, but right before he leaves through a door you've never noticed before, fyodor spares a few words to you.

"stay back a while and explore the building. not too long—someone will worry—but you should be able to find something helpful."

how strange it is that you found an ally in fyodor, out of everyone else. a part of you is convinced he must be playing a cruel trick on you, but you're willing to take any chances that you can find. when you're back for breakfast, you're grinning to yourself as you recount the two exists you've found, one hidden below a winding staircase, and the other at the opposite side of where the five gather with you. both representing hope that you can make it out.

both ways were failures. nikolai's grip around your wrists is painful as he guides you back to your room, goading you by belittling your attempts. fyodor is already waiting there, skimming through your current read, lingering on the pages where you've scribbled down your thoughts (the idea courtesy of fyodor). he puts down the book to look at you as you're embarrassingly being ushered back to your cell. at least nikolai leaves after sharing a few words with the other man—the humiliation of him having to hear how you'd been mislead would have been too much to bear.

your weak glare does nothing to perturb him, "you knew it wouldn't work, right?"

"nikolai is very determined when it concerns keeping you," he says, "perhaps you underestimated him."

"i thought you were going to help me leave," you groan, "i'm so stupid."

"now, my dear," fyodor's amused smile sends shivers down your spine, "why would i ever do that? were you not aware that it was me who asked for nikolai to bring you here?"

"but you told me about the other exists—"

"only to keep you busy," he interrupts, "so you wouldn't do something rash in a desperate attempt to leave."

"i thought you didn't want me...like how they do." because fyodor has never shown interest in you, not like nikolai's constant need to be around you, or sigma's shy way of sitting next to you when he's off work, but perhaps it meant something different, because it was him.

"no," he says, "i don't need to want you like they do, because you are already mine," he leans in closer, a hand on your cheek, "you are mine before you are any of theirs, and you'll do well not to forget that."

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blusherbaker · 4 months

Text

TWST Kink Headcanons: Savanaclaw Edition

Minors/ageless blogs DNI; all characters are 18+ for these scenarios

Each character is given a short write-up of one of their main kinks, as well as a list of other kinks they may like (with a little more info added in some cases), and a list of things they would dislike.

Warnings: Smut, discussion/mention of multiple kinks of different varieties, including those related to D/s dynamics, marking, breeding, etc.

<——« Heartslabyul | Octavinelle »——>

Leona: Marking

This kink of Leona's interests him for a few reasons. First, he's a bit possessive, so leaving marks on you, and getting marks from you is almost a claim of sorts. Each mark is a clear reminder for you, him, and anybody else who sees it that you're his. He's the one who marked you up so pretty. And in return, any marks you leave on him show that he's yours, too. To Leona, the bites, scratches, hickeys, and everything else are a visual symbol of your relationship and of him on your body... and vice-versa. And he really enjoys being left with marks on his skin, too; not only is it a claim, it's a sign that you're enjoying yourself when you're with him. If you leave him with scratches along the skin of his back or chest, or a bite on his shoulder? He'll be admiring your work with pride until the day it finally fades. (BTW, he will mention the marks to you as often as he can. Be prepared for him to make you blush, because he will be relentless about it.)

Other possible kinks:

Domination

Cockwarming

Biting

Body worship (receiving)

Degradation (giving)

Corruption

Somnophilia / sleep sex (receiving)

Orgasm control

Dislikes:

Pet play

Breeding (There's not a chance in hell he even wants to think about having a baby, even if his partner isn't even able to get pregnant.)

Brat play

Ruggie: Belly kink

Ruggie likes bellies. He really likes them. And not just one specific kind, either! A tummy with an innie belly button, an outie belly button, stretch marks, rolls of fat, hair, toned muscles… he adores every possibility. A lean middle with a nipped-in, grabbable waist? He loves it. Ripped, muscular abs? He wants to run his hands over every inch. A skinny, flat tummy? He thinks it's adorable, and can't wait to kiss it. A strong, bulky waistline? He can't stop staring. A big, soft belly with rolls? He's drooling. No matter your body, Ruggie will practically worship your tummy. His caresses and kisses will be soft, but so very hungry as his hands and lips brush over the skin. He'll get so turned on, just from touching - or even merely seeing - your bare belly… it's actually adorable. Chances are, he'll end up looking up at you with a desperate, pleading expression and a little whimper after just a couple moments of feeling that smooth skin around your middle. It wouldn't take much at all for him to be practically begging you for more.

Other possible kinks:

Praise

Food play

Submission

Face sitting?

Domesticity

Exhibitionism

Dislikes:

Pet play

Degradation

Domination (he’s pretty much only a sub in my mind. I can't see him wanting to be dominant at all)

Jack: Scent kink

I don't think Jack would be the kinkiest of the bunch; in fact, he's probably pretty vanilla in most aspects. But something about his partner's scent would really appeal to him. Along with having a better sense of smell than many of the others, there's something so intimate about him being able to smell his partner - that's what would really appeal to him. Knowing that it's the scent of your perfume, your skin, your hair, your sweat, your sex... that's what excites Jack the most. And if your smell lingered on his clothes or sheets? He wouldn't be able to think of anything else. Hopefully it wasn't his jacket or shirt you borrowed, because you'll have him worked up all day if he can smell you on it. However, he wouldn’t just find it arousing, he’d find it incredibly comforting as well. There are many times he’d hold you close, burying his nose into the crook of your neck, onto your scalp, or into your chest, just letting your scent envelop him and remind him you’re there. Yes, smelling your scent(s) may turn him on, but it also makes him feel safe, and connected to you in a way not even he can fully describe.

Other possible kinks:

Breeding

Size kink

Praise

Dislikes:

Pet play

Sadomasochism

Degradation

Similar to Deuce, he wouldn't like most things that could really harm you or himself. He's just a sweet guy ♥︎

And there are the Savanaclaw boys' kinks! I feel a little less confident about these ones than the Heartslabyul ones, mainly because I don't think about these guys quite as much ^^;

If you have any additional thoughts or opinions on these headcanons, I'd love to hear them!

You can read some extra ideas about these kinks here!

#mdni #twst headcanons #savanaclaw #twst smut #leona kingscholar smut #ruggie bucchi smut #jack howl smut #x reader #twst x reader #leona kingscholar x reader #ruggie bucchi x reader #jack howl x reader #twst thoughts #blusher's original ♥︎#I have some more thoughts about them which I'll add in another post later so I don't get carried away here!#and I'll be back in a day or two for Octavinelle ^w^

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scary-lasagna · 4 months

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Hello, I hope you’re doing well! I was wondering if it was okay if to request LJ, Bloody Painter, and Hoodie (separately) with a siren reader? Reader, in her human form, is slightly stronger, durable, and faster. However, in their siren form (which happens when they get submerged underwater) they have the typical powers of a siren, but they also have limit consciousness. What I mean by that is that they are a lot more feral in this form, and doesn’t really recognize anyone in that form, but like, around their partners, they’d sort of feel familiar to them, so reader in their siren form won’t attack them or anything. Hope this makes sense!

In my AU sirens can also transform into bird-like creatures! They have power over the sea and the air :] I decided to implement that as well.

Laughing Jack

Jack, as you know, runs an old, worn-down circus.

There are no more acts of beasts, or rare animals from the human realm, but more so of a retirement place for the creatures.

He basically bought you off of the black market, watching the algae float around the the cramped tank they kept you in.

There was no way he'd be able to sleep at night, knowing he could prevent another lonely night for you.

You got a lovely spot next to Snowflake, his prized albino Tiger, which Jack thought was so funny, because of the cat and fish dynamic.

But after research and asking around after taking care of you for a month, he concluded to take you out of the water.

He enjoyed that month of bonding and feeding you, and even reading you stories whenever you seemed bored with any enrichment toys and food he gave you. He wondered if you would even remember him.

But you did, and you thanked him profusely for rescuing you, even if he had no idea how much it cost or energy it took to rehabilitate a siren-like yourself.

And Jack was always willing to learn whatever you told him, even bringing up stories from your culture about how the sea will reach toward the moon in an attempt to reach its lover that flew too high.

And it took am embarrassingly long amount of time to realize that Jack's feathers were fake, simply a silly decoration he enjoyed.

But over time, you two grew close, and now you have a rather large tank full of a small reef and a complete array of fish to keep you happy whenever you decide to dip your toes.

Helen

Oh, Helen is just head over heels for you.

He thinks you're the most beautiful muse he's ever come across, and every time you step foot in the water you two fall in love all over again.

You actually almost killed him the first time you met. Both of you thought you were alone, and quickly realized the presence of the other.

He managed to squeeze you into his painting of the sunset, but before leaving, he gathered seashells into the tide.

You almost bit his arm off, and ended up getting a face full of oil paint. It tasted lovely, as you can imagine, (it tasted like you gulped down an oil spill).

As while busy gagging and attempting to wash your mouth out, and drink the sea water, which would make even the best of sirens sea-sick, Helen took charge and dragged you out of the water to help you.

And you hit it off since, and many of his paints of you have gained quite the popularity.

Brian

Not gonna lie, he thinks you are pretty terrifying.

The first time you went to the beach, Brian expected something like Ariel, or even the mermaids from Pirates of the Caribbean.

He was not expecting your true form in the slightest.

Your jaw unhinged and ripped your cheeks clean in half to reveal not one, but multiple rows of sharp teeth.

And he's seen many things and creatures in his career as a proxy, but a siren had not been one of them. Slender had mentioned staying away from them, especially as humans, you can be lured whenever they decide to be bored of you, and then drag you to the sea floor.

Or maybe they'll grab you up in their talons leading to sculpted human legs and drop you in a vat of bubbling acid.

Whatever the case was, it seemed as if it went into one ear and out with other with Brian, because he fell in love.

But damn, in the water you were hella creepy. And of course, you thought it was a game to scare this familiar stranger shitless since he seemed so keen on staying around you.

He managed to lure you out from the water with a little jar of "siren-bait" from one of the seaside shops. It didn't work as expected, but you really just wanted to see if it contained any edible food.

But he liked pruning your wings and picking off the casing of new feathers whenever they came in, and if he wasn't feeling too tired, he would give you a small massage to your shoulders after holding up your wings for so long.

#helen otis x reader #helen #bloody painter #bloody painter x reader #creepypasta x reader #laughing jack #laughing jack x reader #creepypasta #creepypasta headcanon #creepypasta imagines #creepypasta blog #hoodie x reader #brian thomas #brian thomas x reader #proxy x reader

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nebulousbrainsoup · 5 months

Text

Insurrection

Chapter 1: Catalyst

⛧ SUMMARY: One choice, made to fan the flames of love, may be the spark to start a war. ⛧PAIRING: vampire!kang yeosang x hunter!reader ⛧GENRE: fantasy, angst (so much angst), smut ⛧AU/TROPE INFO: fantasy au, vampire au, forbidden lovers, hurt no comfort ⛧WORD COUNT: 4.8k ⛧TAGS/WARNINGS: major character death (i'm so sorry), blood, violence, lots of emotion, mental breakdowns, pet names ([my] love, darling, love, Sangie), protective!yunho and protective!yeosang, treating vampires as unseelie fae, not beta'd ⛧RATING: mature ⛧A/N: for @a1sh1teruu; happy christmas from your secret santa! very sorry i'm a few days late; life has been interesting lately and this baby got away from me! i hope i didn't go too hard on the angst you asked for, but i did ask for your hard limits and, uh... i'm an angst writer first and foremost. (if i did go overboard, please please let me know, and i will whip you up something warmer and fluffier.) this did begin as a standalone, but the lovely @kwanisms convinced me to make it a series, so here we are! there will be a few more installments; a prologue and at least one sequel. even if no one else does, zerda, i hope you enjoy this. much love, orion <3 ⛧ smut tags under the cut ; banner by momther ki (kwanisms) ⛧masterlist | join my taglist | buy me a coffee?

⛧ SMUT TAGS/WARNINGS: sex as a distraction/coping mechanism, yeo has vampire speed and strength (don't look too close i didn't logic), sensitive pointy ears, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected sex (boo), multiple orgasms (fem), pet names (Yeosangie, Sangie, baby, darling, love, my pretty girl ), mentions of exhibitionism & sharing if you squint, lack of aftercare bc they're both exhausted

In hindsight, perhaps you should have seen the signs. You had never seen Yeosang eat, no matter how many cafés you frequented together. He had been known throughout the village for his strange attire, the reverse of the seasons; he was covered from chin to fingertip to toe in the summers, while the dark winters found him showing a bit more skin. His pale complexion or the way he could throw you around in the bedroom without breaking a sweat may have given him away to you if you had paid closer attention. You hadn’t, though, and now you paid the price.

Your elders stood in a semicircle in front of you, stony faced, and your blood ran cold. Gideon glowered at you over the top of his steepled fingers, jaw tight.

“Kill or be killed, Y/N,” he spat, “the decision is yours. Kang Yeosang will not be able to protect you from us.”

It took every fiber of your being to hold back the shiver that threatened to tear down your spine. Your mind swirled as you bowed your head respectfully, hands clasped tightly in front of you. Something churned in your gut as you met his eye; whether or not his words would ring true was still to be determined, but you knew he and the rest of the council would try their absolute hardest.

“I understand, Elder Lewis. I will begin my preparations immediately,” you agreed, turning on your heel to see yourself out of the room. Three of the five sat straighter at your promise, one smiling proudly. You sighed in relief; so long as most of them believed you, you would survive the night. You could warn him and, if you were lucky, run.

For most, Yeosang and the rest of his coven were nearly impossible to find; he had told you some story ages ago, but now the secrecy made sense. Few were trusted with a map to their home, and you were thankful tonight to be one of those elites. Strategically placed vines guided you through the trees like flags, their leaves blending into the color of the evergreens’ needles to the untrained eye. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you hurried through the snow, fists clenched at your sides. The path was familiar and though time seemed to drag on in a blur, it felt like you arrived in seconds. The trees parted to a familiar, comforting sight; three cabins and a grand hall circled around a small clearing, and you beelined for Yeosang’s front door.

It was his roommate, Yunho, who opened the door and tried to greet you but you pushed past him, body and mind set on your comfort. You practically collapsed into Yeosang’s arms, a small, pained sound leaving you as he bundled you into his embrace. His quiet questions and murmured comforts were lost on you. Your mind was running at a thousand miles a minute, a million questions running through your mind.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were vampires?” The first inquiry fell from your lips thoughtlessly, and you felt the air disappear from the room. Yunho’s footsteps halted where they were parting to allow you privacy, and you could feel the tension spike. The silence rang louder than any scream. “And don’t try to deny it; I’ve seen the evidence.”

“Who… how did you find this out, sweetheart?”

You scoffed, shoving him away from you and taking a step back. Behind you, you heard Yunho shift to his friend’s defense, but a sharp glare from Yeosang seemed to halt him. “I’m a hunter, Yeosang. You’ve known this; don’t play dumb. My elders showed me your files today,” you paused, turning over your shoulder to glance at Yunho. “All of ATEEZ’s files.”

You watched as the elder coiled like a spring, ready to strike, still pinned in place only by your boyfriend’s scathing stare. Silence once again stretched for what seemed like an eternity, heavy across your shoulders. Finally, Yeosang broke it.

“Leave us, Yunho.”

“Absolutely not.” The reply was immediate, the taller boy standing straighter, his chin high. “I’m not leaving you alone with a hunter.”

You scowled, hearing your boyfriend growl a warning. You knew his expression must match your own. “If you don’t mind, I’d like to speak with my girlfriend alone.”

Yunho opened his mouth to speak again but this time, you were the one to silence him. “I understand your worry and I appreciate your drive to protect your coven. I am not here to hurt Yeosang; I am here to… to ask for help,” you admitted, turning back to glance at your lover. “I forgot to even grab my knife before I left, if I’m being honest.” Yeosang let out a strangled noise of protest, worry painting his face, and you held up a hand to keep him quiet. “The elders… Gideon gave me a choice today. Kill or be killed. And I… I don’t want to do either.”

You could see Yeosang’s heart breaking, the corner of his lips curling down and his brow furrowing. “Yunho, please,” he murmured, “let us figure this out.” He gave no response, but a moment later, you heard the front door click shut, and Yeosang was bundling you back up into his arms.

The moment you were alone, you shattered into pieces. You grasped his shirt in fists as tears flowed like waterfalls down your cheeks, his grip around you tightening like a vice. Sobs wracked your body violently, and you thanked the gods for Yeosang’s strength as, despite your knees buckling under you, you remained upright. He muttered quiet reassurances into your hair, hands running soothingly up and down your back.

When you calmed, he gently guided you back, eyes soft and open as he cupped your cheeks and wiped the tears from them. You screwed your eyes shut and gripped onto his wrists like a lifeline, willing a fresh wave of emotion back.

“It will be alright, my love,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “We’ll figure it out together. You can stay here for as long as you like, and we’ll protect you like our own.”

You whined in protest, eyes blinking open slowly. Sniffling, you shook your head. “I can’t ask that of you. If I’m tracked down, they’ll kill you all too. Hongjoong wouldn’t be willing to take that risk for a simple little mortal, much less one who has trained her entire life to hunt and kill him. He would be crazy.”

Yeosang giggled quietly, smiling gently. “I think you’ll find he is a little crazy when the situation calls for it. He trusts you like one of us already; he allowed me to show you the path here. You will be welcome.”

Hesitantly, you nodded, resigned to accepting your lover’s offer. There was little else you could do. “I will need a few things from the stronghold. I can go back to gather them tonight, and return tomorrow.”

Peeking over your head and out the window, Yeosang frowned. It had been nearing nightfall when you had arrived, and the thought of you unarmed and stumbling through the dark forest unnerved him. He pulled you against his chest, carding a hand into your hair to scratch at your scalp.

“Stay with me tonight, love. Let this be the first night of our new lives together. Let me protect you.” You felt your shoulders relax with every word he spoke, a soft smile playing at your lips. He had already convinced you but he continued, eyes flickering down to your lips. “Let me distract you.”

You let your tongue flick out over your lips, drawing his attention back to them as you grinned. Hands slipping up his chest, you pressed closer to him. “What better way to spend our first night together?”

Yeosang grinned, tugging you in to crash your lips together. You hummed happily as you melted against him, one arm draping over his shoulder while the other carded into the hair at his nape. He held you to him tightly still, sighing against your mouth as you melted against him.

“Take me to bed, Yeosangie,” you muttered when you parted for breath, and he was more than happy to oblige. Strong arms braced under your thighs and lifted you in one fluid motion. Before you had time to think, you were in his room with your back pressed to the mattress, and you let out a squeak of surprise. Your lover was grinning at you when you pulled away. “Now that the cat’s out of the bag, I assume you’ll be using all of your fancy vampire powers at every turn, hm?”

“Maybe not all of them,” he teased, pressing kisses up your jaw. “I’ll only bite if you ask nicely,” he purred into your ear, his silky baritone sending a shudder down your spine.

You whined, tugging him back up by his hair to lock your lips, legs wrapping around his middle to pull him impossibly closer. He groaned, low and broken, as you ground against him, losing himself for a moment before he pinned your hips down to the bed.

“Tonight is all about you, my love,” he hummed, hands running down your thighs as he sat back on his knees. You pouted up at him and he couldn’t help but grin, kneading at the soft flesh under his fingers. “I’m going to take my time with you and savor this. No more quick nights at the tavern, hm?”

You shuddered under his touch, eyes flickering to the door. “What about Yunho?”

The grin on Yeosang’s face was purely wicked and heat ran through your body. “Don’t worry, darling. I’ll make sure the whole coven can hear you.”

Despite his promise to take his time, Yeosang stripped you down quickly, tugging your shirt off and trousers down to leave you in only your undergarments. The moment he could, he leaned down, nipping at your inner thigh and grinning triumphantly at the sound it pulled from you. His lips quickly found their way to your throat as he let your legs fall in favor of slotting himself between them, lips attaching themselves to your throat. The drag of his teeth over your pulse had you whining into his ear, breath ghosting over the subtly pointed tip. It was Yeosang’s turn to shudder, all of his blood rushing south at the feeling. He sighed, burying his head against your shoulder as he gathered himself.

Or tried to, because a moment later, you were tucking his hair behind his ear, fingers ghosting over the sensitive skin, and he was choking back a moan. “C-Careful,” he muttered, reaching up to grab your wrist and halt you. “They’re sensitive.”

“I don’t see the issue,” you hummed, drawing his gaze back up. You were grinning down at him and it was a pretty sight, but the mischief twinkling in your eyes had Yeosang wanting to wipe it from your face.

Pinning your wrist to the bed, he slipped down your body at lightning speed, face level with your clothed core. In an instant, his tongue was pressed against you, and you let out a choked shout at the wet warmth that joined your own arousal. Yeosang grinned proudly once more, letting his teeth graze lightly over your heat as he sat back. That particular friction was foreign but pleasant, pulling a pretty little whimper from you.

“Do you still not see the issue with playing with sensitive areas, love, or shall I continue?”

Not one to be upstaged, you huffed a sigh, the corner of your mouth ticking up in a grin. “I don’t think I quite get it.”

Yeosang chuckled, leaning back to lap a stripe up your thigh. Nipping at your hip, he slowly began a path up your body, leaving wet kisses in his wake. You sighed, the sound like music to his ears as you turned to putty beneath his hands.

Your bra was the next garment to leave your body, tossed carelessly to the side as his mouth descended on your chest, lips quickly closing around your peaked nipple. One hand bracing himself, the other lit a contrastingly cool trail down your torso, coming to rest over your underwear. A quiet squeak left you and you squirmed under him, his icy fingers bringing a delicious new sensation to your warm arousal while his lips worked over your other breast.

“Sangie,” you gasped out, one hand tangling into his hair and tugging encouragingly. “More, please.”

Chuckling lowly against your skin, he obliged, pushing the fabric of your panties to the side to slide his fingers through your wetness. You whined and writhed under him, hips seeking further stimulation—this wasn’t enough. The pad of his finger circled your clit and you jolted, a pitched whine leaving you that had Yeosang’s control snapping in an instant.

He needed more, and he needed it now. More of you, more of your lovely little sounds, more of your warm body pressed against his cold one.

Pulling back from your chest with a wet noise, he sat back on his heels, tugging his shirt off and tossing it away from him. Your remaining undergarment was pulled off and discarded as he stood, quickly ridding himself of his final layers, too. He drank you in with a gaze that made you feel like prey, delicate and helpless underneath the ancient power that coursed through his veins. Pride swelled in his chest as he took in your open-mouthed, hungry stare. He chuckled to himself and ran a hand across his broad chest, letting you drink in the sight of him. His grin only spread as he watched you turn away from him, shy.

“My pretty girl,” he hummed, running his fingers up the insides of your thighs as he settled between them again.

Your pretty little whine had him preening as he lowered himself to your core, grinning up at you. Tossing your legs over his shoulders, he held eye contact and sighed against you as you shuddered, before his tongue flicked out to tease at your slit. He delighted in the way your hands flew to his hair, tangling in the soft strands as you urged him closer. His sharp, calculated gaze remained on you as he flattened his tongue against you, humming happily at the taste of you. His eyes rolled back in his head, finally slipping shut as he began to lose himself in the ecstasy that was your essence.

Your sounds only grew as he began to eat you out in earnest and they went straight to his cock; Yeosang found himself rutting into the mattress within minutes, desperate to find any amount of friction. His pride fell to the wayside as he gripped your thighs hard enough to bruise, fucking his tongue into you with fervor. He barely came up for air as he buried his face in your pussy, pleasured moans leaving him as he chased both of your peaks. Your tugging on his hair was what brought him back into his mind and, though he shot you a glare, his fingers quickly replaced his mouth.

You were gasping for breath as he sat upright, grinning proudly while your legs dropped to rest over his elbows. “What’s the matter, love?”

“C-Can’t, g’nna cum,” you gasped, hands coming to rest over his biceps as you melted back into the mattress.

“Oh, well if that’s all,” he hummed, slowly lowering himself back down. You whimpered, hands tangling back into his hair at the warmth of his tongue and the chill of his fingers, but gave no further sounds of protest as he dove back into you. Within seconds, your legs were clamping down around his ears and he was opening his eyes, drinking in the sight of your ecstasy as he worked you over the edge. With one final suck to your clit, he sat back on his heels and drank in the whine that left you, sighing happily.

“Gods above, you taste good,” he murmured, licking his lips hungrily.

“Yeosang,” you whined, hands clawing up his arms to pull him close, “need you baby, please.”

“Need what?” He grinned, shifting up to cage you in completely, his cockhead teasing at your folds. You whine, shifting lower, and he clicked his tongue as one hand came to rest over your throat, stilling your movements.

You whined, blinking up at him with wide, doe eyes, and he had to bite back a growl. “Your cock, Sangie, please.”

He grinned down at you devilishly as he pressed into you, drinking down every whine and moan that spilled from your mouth as he sealed his lips with your own. When he was finally sheathed within your warmth, he sighed happily and buried his face into the crook of your neck. You wrapped your arms around his and he felt secure, safe, as he began a slow and deliberate pace.

“So long as you’re mine,” he whispered against your skin, his speed building. “I will protect you. What is mine is the coven’s and what is the coven’s is mine.” You clenched around him, and he groaned lowly, his eyes squeezing shut. “We keep our own safe.”

You clung to him like a lifeline, the air crackling electric between you as you climbed to your second peak at record speed. The way his speed built in tandem with the passion of his words had you squirming, clawing for him. He shuddered, too, as your walls spasmed around him, his own orgasm catching him by surprise. He sat up straight and sheathed himself in you fully as you both rode out the waves of pleasure, his hips rolling in tiny circles to prolong it.

With one last kiss to your forehead, he pulled himself from you and collapsed to your side. He gave himself to the count of ten to bask in the warmth as he felt himself quickly falling into the meditative state he considered “sleep,” emerging from the brink of it to clean you. You sighed, basking in the attention, and Yeosang’s heart skipped a beat as he crawled back into bed with you—tired, cuddly, smiling, perfect you. He prayed you were asleep as he whispered into your hair.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You hid your grin in his chest and fell asleep in his arms.

When you awoke in a bed that was not your own, the curtains around you pulled shut, you startled. Yeosang was laid next to you reading, and as you stirred, he glanced up from his page. “Good morning, darling.”

You smiled, turning over to press a kiss to his cheek, grinning when he flushed and turned back to his book. “Good morning, Sangie. What time is it?”

“Just after sunrise.”

Huffing, you pushed yourself up from the bed. “You shouldn’t have let me sleep so late. I’ll have to hope no one has a route in this direction today,” you muttered as you went about gathering your clothes, strewn about the room. “And that no one decided to hang around near my room.”

Yeosang set his book aside, frowning. “I’ll come with you.”

“You will do no such thing, Kang Yeosang,” you protested, continuing on before he could speak. “The moment you are within firing distance of the castle, the elders will see you taken out. Stay here and speak to Hongjoong; I’ll only be gone a few hours.” He frowned deeply, eyes tracking your movements carefully as you tugged back the curtains an inch. “It’s bright out today, anyway. You wouldn’t be very comfortable past the treeline.”

The fight was over before it had really started, logic winning out over Yeosang’s protective nature. You were right; in the full sun of the day, with the snow reflecting it back up at him, he would be weak. Not only would protecting you be a challenge, his presence might hinder the speed of your mission.

“Alright. I’ll speak with Hongjoong. I’ll give you until noon to be back before I start looking for you.” Grinning, you bounced back across the room, leaning down to press a kiss to Yeosang’s lips. He hummed happily as he carded a hand into your hair, gently tugging you back for more.

With a hand on his shoulder, you kept him at bay, chuckling quietly to yourself. “You had enough of me last night, love. You can have more tonight, but you have to let me go get my belongings.”

The sigh that left him was half-hearted at best, and you huffed another breath of laughter. “Fine. Be safe and hurry back.”

“I will.”

As the door shut behind you, something unsettling stirred in his gut. For inexplicable reasons, he felt as though you were lying.

“Yunho, you met this girl. Can we trust her?” Hongjoong questioned, folding his hands neatly in his lap as he leaned back in his chair. He looked relaxed, at ease in the safety of his own chambers, only the twitching of his jaw giving away his current inner turmoil.

The man in question thought for a moment, shrugging and giving a small nod. “I think Yeosang coming back in one piece today is a pretty good sign.”

He nodded slowly, mulling the request over. It was a great risk for the coven to take in a mortal, both to the mortal and the coven. Word had spread on one occasion they did such a thing, and they had been forced to move rather abruptly. Y/N’s upbringing as a monster hunter added another convoluted layer to the whole ordeal; she could be playing them to spy for her order or, if they truly were on the hunt for her, she could end up getting them all killed. But no matter how stoic and strict he may look to outsiders, Hongjoong had an undeniable soft spot for his coven. So, as Yeosang stood there, a determined and pleading look on his face, the elder vampire caved.

“Fine. But let her know that she will be expected to pull her weight. She can stay with you and Yunho until we figure out other living arrangements,” he conceded, huffing an annoyed sigh that held little weight. “Now go tell the others.”

Yeosang beamed, practically bouncing toward the door and flinging it open. Wooyoung, who had just started up the front porch steps, startled and fell back against San.

“Y/N is coming to live with us!” He blurted out, and the pair shared a confused look. “It’s a whole long story. Speaking of, have either of you seen her? I can’t wait to tell her.”

Wooyoung recovered before San did, blinking back into himself and sharing a bright smile with his friend. “That’s great! I can’t wait for her to meet everyone else. Sannie, I think you’ll really like her. I haven’t seen her around today; is she here?”

“She went to gather her things from the hunters’ stronghold. She should be back any minute.” Something unpleasant coiled in Yeosang’s gut, and he frowned. “You didn’t happen to see any hunters on your way back in, did you?”

San and Wooyoung shared a look that had Yeosang’s blood running cold. “We did,” San confirmed. “They were headed away from here, though. We didn’t bother with them.”

Behind him, someone stirred, and Yeosang spun on his heel, eyes pleading with Hongjoong as he approached. “She said she’d be in danger if she ran into other hunters. We have to look for her.”

Resolutely, Hongjoong nodded, turning back over his shoulder. “Yunho, get Jongho. San, Wooyoung, go get Seonghwa and Mingi. We’ll head toward their stronghold and work outward—stay in pairs, stay out of sight, and do not eng—”

Before the leader could finish his sentence, a sharp scream echoed through the forest, and Yeosang’s eyes widened. He went rigid for a moment, keen ears twitching as they scanned the forest, tracking the echoes until he could pinpoint a near exact location of origin. He was moving before he could think, dashing down the path and into the treeline. Dodging trees and leaping over fallen branches as he tore through the brush, the warning shouts of his coven fell on deaf ears. They would follow, he knew. He only slowed for a moment when he caught the scent of your blood in the air, tripping over his own feet before pushing forward with even more purpose.

In hindsight, he should have realized that your familiar yell was not one of fear, as he had been so worried about. He should have taken even a moment to breathe.

You were still upright when he barreled into the clearing, wrestling with another hunter for what looked to be a blade. Your face was twisted in a grimace, desperation and anger marring the features he was so used to seeing alight with joy. He called your name and you turned, the panic-stricken look you sent him sending confusion and hurt lancing through him. He was here to help; shouldn’t you be happy to see him?

In hindsight, he should have realized why your cry was so familiar to his ears. Maybe he would have registered that it had been full of pure, white-hot rage; the same rage you directed at him during your first meeting.

Time slowed, and with the snap of a wire, Yeosang understood.

The bolt burned as it pierced through his ribs, and his vision went white with the pain as he toppled forward, falling to his hands and knees with a shout of his own. This time, there was pain in your exclamation; he couldn’t quite make out the words, but he heard the break in your voice that he knew, all too well, meant tears were brimming. He tasted iron as he coughed, distantly registering the shadow of black that splattered the snow in front of him.

It had been a while since he’d seen his own blood.

More shouts echoed as he fell to his knees, vision going black for a moment. When his sight returned, you were in front of him, and Yeosang’s brow furrowed. Humans like you, as far as he knew, couldn’t move that fast. He glanced over your shoulder, gasping—when had the coven gotten here?

Another blink, and he was on his back, staring up at your distressingly heartbroken expression. Your hands cupped his cheeks for a beat, and he melted into the fleeting feeling, grumbling in disapproval as they streaked down his neck to his sides. About halfway to his hips, they stopped, and the pain that sparked through him had him coming back to his senses, a shout choked behind his teeth.

“Leave it,” he hissed, and you made a pained noise. The iron crossbow bolt had embedded itself firmly and, despite his protests, you gave it another tug. This time, Yeosang shouted, bolting upright and batting your hand away from him. “Barbed,” he croaked, falling back to his hands and knees. “You’ll rip me up if you take it out.”

“And it’ll poison you slowly if I don’t,” you urged, reaching for him. “You can heal the injuries, please.”

Yeosang frowned deeply, eyes squeezing shut as he took stock of his body. “Not… quickly enough.”

“Please let me try,” you begged, hand settling below his wound. “Please give yourself a chance. Let me give you a chance, Yeosang, please.”

Oh, how weak he was for you.

Swallowing thickly, he screwed his eyes shut and nodded, rolling once more onto his back with a wince. “If it pleases you.”

“None of this pleases me,” you shot back, choking on a sob around your words. Your grip solid around the arrow’s shaft, you gave a strong tug, and Yeosang shouted through gritted teeth as it came free. “I’m sorry, love, I’m sorry,” you breathed, cupping his face.

“No more… apologies. This is not your fault,” he muttered between coughs. His mouth felt wetter than usual and he turned, dizzy as he watched more black mar the white ground. “Oh.”

“Stay still, Sangie, please, let your magic work. Don’t make things worse. Just… stay here. It’ll be okay.”

You didn’t sound sure. Yeosang huffed a laugh, coughed. “I won’t heal… fast enough,” he muttered, rolling once more onto his back. “H’ngjoong s-said… You can stay with us. Make sure he keeps… ‘s word.”

His eyes fluttered shut. He was so tired all of a sudden. Distantly, he could hear you calling to him, could feel your hands on his cheeks. He smiled, leaning into the warmth of your palms, a stark contrast to the chill surrounding him. The world was turning to white noise; Yeosang sighed.

One voice, familiar and filled with venom, cut through the roar. He was just used to listening for his Captain, after all, and he heard him clear as day now.

“You have just declared a war.”

Everything went quiet.

TAGLISTS: [open, apply here.]

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#cromernet #cultofdionysusnet #k-vanity #mfu-net #wonderlandnet #yeosang x reader #yeosang imagines #yeosang scenarios #yeosang smut #yeosang angst #ateez smut #ateez x reader #ateez imagines #ateez scenarios #ateez angst #neb.atz #neb.insurrection #nebulous writes

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shadowfloofster · 1 year

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I've seen people say you can't compare the QSMP to the DSMP because they're both completely different servers with different starts.

The thing is you can compare them. Not the stories told themselves because of course they're going to be different as they're 2 servers with different starts with 2 nearly completely different sets of people.

You can compare the treatment of the creators by the fandom, players (other cc on the server) and admins though.

Foolish for example. He made SO many amazing high quality builds to use and be shown to people. Ranboo and Tubbo had him build a giant mansion for them to live in! Yet it was entered maybe once after being finished. Foolish was able to use his builds for his own lore maybe once. Only a few people like Bad really acknowledged them by messing around in the area of them or adding something easy to get rid of to them as jokes.

Bad's treatment on the DSMP was frustrating to watch. He was the butt of the joke every time he was around. People would constantly swear on his streams because it was so funny for them! They constantly destroyed his and Skeppy's house and griefed the front of it. No one other than his friends really listened to him about things. And the egg arc was supposed to be something that was a massive danger to the server! But how does the server and fandom not directly involved treat it? Like a joke. Bad and his friends clearly worked really hard on this arc to include more than just the 'main characters' and their small circle, yet it was brushed off as if nothing by the players and fandom, treated like it was stupid.

Quackity's lore just kinda- happened. There isn't much I can say as I don't remember a lot of it tbh which isn't a great sign.

Philza and Wilbur probably got the better end of the stick for lore due to being connected to the main lorr, but it still wasn't great for them either.

A lot of CCs not on the QSMP have mentioned how the communication for the server was terrible too. At the start of lore on the DSMP, it made sense as they were purely doing improve so there wasn't really anyone to run things through. But the fact the issue was bad the entire time made the CCs on the server feel ignored and not want to play on it.

It was rare for people to interact with others outside their already established circles unless they're friends outside the server.

Now with the QSMP

Foolish has built multiple things on the server and has been acknowledged by everyone at this point. Bad might mess with them a lot still and encourage others to join him but you can tell the respect people still have for each one. Vagetta wants a version of the statue Foolish built him on other servers. People and fandom admire his builds and always make sure that if there's any damage to it, it's easily undone. Cellbit has made the castle Foolish built him his home the moment it was finished, he's been using it since. He paid him fully and made sure he was fully supplied and had company while building, staying on for hours to talk to him as he built.

Bad is respected by everyone on the server. He's taken seriously by everyone. Everyone trusts him with their kid's lives. Phil asks Bad to babysit Tallulah and Chayanne if he can't. The french trust Bad more than anyone outside their language group. Forever trusts Bad the most on the server other than Baghera. If someone needs something they'll go to him. All the eggs love him and so does the fandom. He's part of the joke instead of the butt of it. He can laugh along with the jokes made, even ones directed at him. When people swear on his streams and he languages them, they immediately apologize and switch to one of Bad's replacements (fudge being the main one) and no one makes fun of it either! They don't start swearing relentlessly at him to annoy him.

Even though Quackity doesn't show up often, when he does people are happy to interact with him and update him on what's happened if he wants it.

People can be off the server for weeks without being isolated because they're not keeping up with major lore, especially as people are happy to update anyone on anything they want to know. Hell people can be on a lot without being involved in lore but still be included as much as anyone else! As soon as there's a threat to the eggs or a new way to protect them, it spreads to everyone like wildfire and everyone's taken it on within a week.

The new arrivals are always welcomed by the islanders already there. They support them and treat with the same respect they do with everyone else. They merge with everyone else nearly immediately and become part of the community without hesitation.

The communication with the admins is clearly amazing too. Philza has pointed out how appreciated he feels compared to other servers. When an egg dies unfairly they're quick to get back to them within hours. If there's a general issues they're quick to get back to them and fix things. People are allowed to have their own stories alongside the main one. Events are planned and discussed so everyones aware before it happens. Anyone who wants to take part is welcome to if it's a big thing due to how open they usually are (rescuing Cellbit and Felps, travelling to Bobby's death site, etc). Thinfs are adapted and changed when needed and all CCs are in the loop.

Being able to watch the QSMP and not feel like any POV I watch is being mistreated or ignored is great. I couldn't watch anything but lore streams with the DSMP because Bad was my main POV and it made me so uncomfortable to watch him being made fun of constantly and be treated as a joke.

The QSMP feels like a community of people, instead of factions trying to go against each other. DSMP was my first and only smp experience and while it was great at first, it quickly soured. The QSMP treats it's CCs and fandom as if they genuinely matter, making sure everyone is welcomed and no one is isolated.

#qsmp #it feels so nice to watch #Bad has always been my main POV for years now as I enjoy watching him most #so watching him constantly made fun of and treated as a joke on the DSMP was horrible to watch #Seeing the contrast of that compared to how respected he is on the QSMP is so nice #While his chat is starting to not be too great #The fandom and the people treat him so well #They all interact with people they haven't with before and they make such amazing dynamics to watch #Small rant thing because I appreciate Quackity making the QSMP so much #the love and care is clear in the way everything's been done on the server #the admins and people have been carefully chosen and it shows so well

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whynot-tryit · 10 months

Text

Angel of Small Death

Chapter 2

Summary: You start working on helping Ghost fix his sleep schedule and make slow but steady progress. The captain takes notice and decides to go to you to help him with the same problem

Word count: 4,627

Warnings: medical inaccuracies, talk of insomnia, talk of nightmares, elusion to masturbation, elusion to sex, touching, ummm I think thats it lmk if theres something I missed.

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It’s been closing on two weeks of you working with 141, the long corridors of the base have become somewhat familiar. You’ve slowly but surely been making your room fit to your standards, some low lighting from some candles and lamps, you hated the overhead lights that came with the room. Some soft blankets and pillows. The candles were strictly against the rules but they were your little secret, not like you were inviting people over to be able to snitch on you about it.

The boys have made you feel at home, inviting you to eat with them during meal times when you weren’t bound to your office trying to organize all their medical records and setting up a timeline for check ups and routine vaccines and tests.

Soap was the talker of the group, filling the silence most times and making actual intellectual conversations the other times. Gaz was still not that much of a talker, mostly coming out of his shell to agree with something one of the other boys had said or to call out Soap on his bullshit. Ghost was basically a shadow- he was there physically but not there in any other sense. John didn’t usually come to meal times. He was almost always in his office, you had never even heard any of the boys mention his living quarters which made a knot grow in your stomach when you thought about it. Did he live on base? He had to, most likely. Did he sleep in his office? He was still a stranger- a handsome one at that- but the thought made you unhappy to even think about.

When you had originally met with Ghost you had made somewhat of a game plan to try to aid him with his insomnia. You had come to learn that he had issues falling asleep, staying asleep, and avoiding nightmares. You were glad they weren’t night terrors, that would’ve been even harder to help him with. Most of the meeting was taken up with a number of questions of things he had previously tried that surprisingly got you a deeper look into who he was.

He had tried tea, but found the taste of chamomile to be sickening. Lemon balm tea was too strong for his nose, along with peppermint tea. He had liked lavender tea but found it hard to buy it out of the sight of his teammates, finding it embarrassing. He slept with his mask on, regardless of the heat and never under any blankets- no matter how cold. His adamancy about not resorting to drugs held you back quite a bit but you reassured him you’d try your best.

You started with black out curtains, courtesy of the small fund the medical bay was allowed to use. You had delivered them to Ghost’s room yourself, the look in his eyes when he had first opened the door for you was almost enough to send you running but you stood your ground. He was thankfully handy enough to be able to install them himself. While in his room you had taken notice that he had not moved the furniture in the room at all, the bed located against the middle of the wall you are faced with as soon as you walk in the room. It took a lot of convincing but you got him to move the bed in the corner, he would sleep facing the door- easy to spot an intruder, and safe enough to not have to worry about someone sneaking up behind him.

That same visit you had brought him another surprise, a kettle and three boxes of lavender tea. Ghost was deeply touched by the action, he hadn’t explicitly told you about the embarrassment of going to the kitchen on base at two or three in the morning to make himself a cup of tea. The smell would waft through the halls on his way back and there had been multiple times he had made the whole walk just to get himself a cup of water instead once he realized how many men were there.

“I can buy them for you, the boys don’t need to know.”

He responded the way he usually did, the way he had since you first met him- with silence. You’d have to admit that you would usually have to see someone's whole face to be able to read them but Ghost’s eyes were surprisingly loud. The gratitude, the hesitance, the timidness that he’d stare at you with were enough. You had set up the kettle and boxes on his desk, now he didn’t have to go all the way to the kitchen to make himself a cup. “I know it’s not a proper cup of tea but hopefully it's enough.”

“It’s enough.” His response was airy, almost like the ending of a chuckle. It ends up being the first night that he only wakes up once in months.

You can see his shoulders are less tense and the bags under his eyes- when not covered in black face paint- look better after a few weeks. You get him a decent pillow next. It wasn’t a medical diagnosis on your part, men were known to have unbearably flat pillows, like the fluffiness of then had been beaten out of them. So after noticing that Ghost was one of those men, who owned such pillows, you had bought nice fluffy ones- just two. Sturdy enough to where his head would still be above his shoulders when he laid on his side. You made sure to get ones that had that cooling stuff, so that his mask wouldn’t make him overheat while he was asleep.

The gift was left by his door, you had been in a rush and didn’t have the time to knock and come in but Ghost knew it was you, the next step in your treatment for him. It's the first time he falls asleep in less than an hour in what seemed like years, maybe.

At this point it was nearing over a month that you had been there. Ghost had been going from multiple cups of black coffee to an occasional one with maybe a pack of sugar here and there. This stark difference did not go unnoticed, especially from the captain who often made his next cup of coffee a few feet away from him almost every morning.

…

John’s eyes watch over the hulking masked figure as he shakes out a sugar packet before ripping off the top and dumping it out into the mug of dark liquid. He sets a hand down onto the counter while the other brings his own mug up to his lips as he takes a sip, brows furrowed. “I didn’t know you liked sugar in your coffee, lieutenant.”

Ghost grunts, “I don’t, but the coffee tastes like shite more than usual.”

That earns him a chuckle from the captain before Ghost makes his way to a seat at the wooden table a few feet away. He takes the seat at the end, keeping a distance away from Soap and Gaz who are slowly but surely picking away at their food. John watches the boys for a second, his eyes finding their way back to Ghost. He seemed chirpier than normal, at least as much as he can get. He hadn’t reached for the bottom of his mask to chug his coffee before pouring himself another one like normal. The mug still sat in his hands, situated in his lap. Almost like he was nursing it, savoring the taste instead of biting the bullet and drinking it for the sole purpose of the energy boost.

You had made it a habit to join the boys for a cup of coffee, talking about what your plans were for the day before you went to the med bay. You round the corner and make your way to the counter, in the same vicinity of John to make your usual cup. You liked sweet things, always have- although you saved your guilty pleasure until you really needed them but coffee was the one thing you indulged in at least once a day. You put a heaping amount of milk until the liquid was a light brown color before grabbing two sugar packets and shaking them out.

“You gonna have any coffee with that cup of milk, love?”

You giggle, “Wow, never heard that one before, Cap” You give him a small side eye before ripping off the top of the sugar packets and dumping them into the concoction. You take a finger and swirl the liquid around until you feel like it was mixed together enough for your liking and bring the finger up to your mouth, swirling your tongue around the digit- the taste of the sweet coffee hitting your taste buds. You pull your finger out of your mouth with a pop before looking over at John. “Probably tastes better than yours anyway.”

He watches your retreating figure as you find a seat by the boys, easily slipping into conversation with them. John’s eyes look over the four of you, settling specifically on you- watching you silently sip on your drink.

Thoughts of you had been plaguing him for weeks, going over the interaction between the two of you. You technically didn’t work under him, you worked with him- helped him. You gave him a sense of comfort that went far beyond what was in your job description, that had to mean something. Maybe that's what you're doing- all that you’re doing, being nice. The hesitance of him acting on his feelings have been holding him back. He’s finally had time to look over your file, you’re younger than him by a good amount. Maybe you just saw him as a sweet old man, your captain but nothing more. It’s been keeping him up at night, at least more than his other problems usually do.

Price had been lost in his thoughts for a bit, when his eyes finally focused on the group Soap and Gaz are getting up- nodding a goodbye before walking out. You shift yourself in the chair to whisper something to Ghost with a small smile, the mask seems to shift over the lower part of his face. The exchange of words doesn't reach Price’s ears and his brows furrow. What were you guys talking about?

You seem to end the conversation with a final word and rise up to your feet and throw a small wave over your shoulder to John, making your way to the door with the mug still in your hands. Ghost seems to sit for a few still minutes before pulling up the edge of his mask to take a sip of his coffee.

“What was that about?” John had made his way over to the table, taking a seat and spreading his thighs. Ghost grunts a questioning sound.

“What were you and the Doc talking about?” John didn’t want to pressure the man to talk but he was interested. Ghost pulls his mask down after another sip before opening his mouth to speak. “She’s been helping me out.” John’s eyebrows raise. Is that why he’s been drinking less black coffee? He had seen Ghost acting a lot more friendly than usual, chuckling at something Soap had said, less aggressive criticism while training, and overall a lot more awake. He wasn’t bouncing off the wall but his eyes looked better, the bags under them improving as well.

“Are you sleeping?” The question is almost whispered, lower than most of the words they’ve exchanged so far. John had known Ghost for years. He’s seen his face on some occasions and was given the opportunity to know his real name. Brothers, almost- rather than just teammates. There had been multiple times- on missions- when they were a mere few feet away from each other and had woken up in a sweat due to their nightmares. It came with the job.

Ghost fiddles with the mug on the table, “I sleep better than I did before, I’ll say that much.”

……………………

You had briefly asked Ghost if he had used the pillows you had left for him. He had kindly but quietly said yes, and a small brief thank you. It was actually the first real thank you you’ve seemed to have gotten since first moving to the base. You worked somewhat side by side with the rest of the medical team but they were often rude and rushed. You somewhat had the feeling that they were upset with the fact that Laswell decided to bring someone from outside the base instead of just picking someone on base to work with 141. The feeling hasn't exactly been proven but it was still there, hiding in the shadows of your thoughts.

There was a small office space that had been given to you on the outskirts of the med bay, almost like your own little doctor's office. You loved it, it was small but in a way you were fond of. Most of your time since getting here had been to go over test results, Gaz had tested for anemia and was put on a supplement, Soap’s hearing was only a decimal under average, and well Ghost seemed like he was finally getting sleep. The captain, who had been taking up most of the space in your brain, in a completely unprofessional way- didn’t really have anything to attend to in a medical way.

You place your pen down on the desk and run your hands over your face before placing them under your chin, elbows resting on your desk. You were thinking about it again, about him. There would be moments where you would find yourself smiling to yourself, thinking of him. Or you’d stare off into that small piece of peeling wall paint in the corner, going over the small interaction again and again. Maybe if you could come up with something that would get him into your office, something he could complain about enough to come and talk to you about. You let out a sigh once the thought hits you. This is so unprofessional.

But God, the things you wanted to do to that man, the things you wanted him to do to you, were definitely not professional. You wanted to ram your head straight into the wooden frame under you just to get it out of your head.

A soft knock bursts you out of your thought bubble and you turn your head to look at the doorway. John still has his hand slightly raised to the door but slowly puts it down before giving you a friendly smile. Fuck me.

“Mind if I come in, love?”

You splutter out an of course. “Is there something I can help you with, John?”

He takes a couple steps into the room before coming to a halt and crossing his arms across his chest, void of his tactical vest. You try not to stare at the way the ripples in his shirt stretch over the expanse of his shoulders and chest. “I was speaking to Ghost earlier, you’ve been helping him?”

You’re sitting in a slightly more comfortable stool than last time but still pretty low, you have to crane your neck just a little to meet his eyes. You start to fiddle with your fingers. “Yeah, just some home remedies and stuff, to help him sleep.”

Since the captain hasn’t been wandering around the base, you take it he’s quite a busy man- you haven’t updated him on any of the treatments you’ve been giving to the rest of 141. A part of you wonders if that's what he’s here about. “I’m sorry if that was something I was supposed to keep you updated on, you seem like a busy man. I didn’t want to interrupt you in your office.”

Your fidgeting becomes even worse, picking at your nail beds with your hands in your lap. John glances a look down at them, he feels a tad bit of guilt for making you nervous. He moves to take a seat in an abandoned chair in the corner, resting his elbows on his knees, hands clasped together. “You’re alright, don’t worry.” A calloused hand comes up to scratch at the side of his face, through his beard. “I was actually here about something else.”

It’s like a flip switch in you. Your training kicks in and you use a hand to push yourself away from the desk, slowly coming to a stop a few feet in front of him still seated in your chair. “Are you okay?”

“I’m alright, love.” He chuckles. “It’s the same thing as Ghost, not as bad though.” You hum before scooting an extra foot or two back. “Stand up.”

John’s eyebrows raise in a look of surprise but gets up, his arms idly staying by his sides. Should he put them in his pockets? The thought itches his brain and he starts to move them to do so.

You stand, now crossing your arms. “Do you have nightmares?” The question hangs in the air for a couple seconds while you slowly make your way around John. You circle him, trying to get a good look at all of him- trying to find anything that you can use to help him. “Not usually, especially after a glass or a cigar.” He’s tense, your eyes are tracing him- from his shoulders, to his back, his fitted waist in the cargo pants he’s wearing all the way down to his feet. You let out a light laugh before you come up in front of him again. “Are you having problems falling asleep or staying asleep?”

You look him directly in his eyes while you ask him the question. “Falling asleep.” He gives you a tight lipped smile. Your feet start moving again, walking in a circle around him once more. John was strong, his stance told you that much. His shoulders were tense, your eyes trail down his back. “Do you have someone at home helping you when you can’t sleep?”

John turns his head, trying to catch a glimpse of you behind him. You take notice of his neck, he doesn’t seem to be able to get a good look behind him, at least not without turning his whole body. He seems surprised by the question, trying to get a coherent thought out of his mouth to answer you. “Don’t have anyone waiting for me if that's what you’re asking me, love.”

You had asked the same question to Ghost when you were doing your initial interrogation, it was quite awkward but it was essential in your treatment. You don’t know if that was gonna be a good thing or a bad thing with John.

“I have to ask you.” You feel a heat run up your neck and into your check and you try to fight a smile while you finally are in front of him again. “What's your sex life like?”

John's chest shakes with laughter, it's the first time you’ve heard the real thing. It's like it's coming out from deep within him and you have to bite your lip to not let out the same sound. “Don’t have much time for that.” His eyes are still crinkled, those crows feet peeking out at you yet again. “Well are you at least getting it out of your system?”

“Why would you like to know, love?”

You have to clear your throat a little because of the look he’s giving you, his eyes are boring right into you- arms now back to being crossed. “It can help you fall asleep, especially if the reason for you not falling asleep stems from anxiety or stress.” It takes almost everything in you to hold his eyes with your own. Your face feels like it's on fire.

“I’m alright in that aspect, love.” John is fighting off another smile, it’s adorable seeing you this way. He wants to see it more.

You lick your lips before resurfacing to the conversation to add another question. “Do you get any headaches?” You slip your hands into the pockets of your scrub top, anxious to do something with your hands while his eyes are still on you. He gives you a hum as a yes. “Are they usually towards the back of your head?”

“Yeah, does that mean something?”

You slowly make your way slightly behind him and raise a hand, lightly touching the base of his head, almost the start of his neck. “Right around here?”

Besides the time John shook your hand and you had touched his neck, there wasn’t any physical touch when it came to the two of you. Did you really have to touch the area to ask him if if hurt there? No. Did you want an excuse to touch him? Yes, a hundred percent yes. Was that probably unprofessional? Most likely yes.

You add a little pressure with the tips of your finger into the tense spot and John winces. You let out a small sorry but slowly tiptoe your fingers down the back of his neck, follow the trail of muscles until they reach almost to his shoulder blade. You add the same amount of pressure as before but now in a new spot and you hear John let out what almost sounds like a sound of relief. His arms have slowly uncrossed and his shoulders slump a little at the feeling.

“I thought you said massages were part of the deluxe package?” John says with a chuckle.

“Let’s call it the captain treatment for now, just until you upgrade.” You move to grab the stool you were previously sitting on and motion for him to take a seat. John does so, his head comes to rest just at eye level with your chest and you try to stop your stomach from doing somersaults at the seemingly innocent occurrence. You move to get behind him and continue the little massage.

You focus more on the right side of his neck and he cranes his neck to the left to give you enough space. Your other hand comes around to cradle the left side of his face, his facial hair rough against the palm of your hand. John takes a sharp inhale at the feeling of your soft hand caressing his face. “Is this okay?” You don’t mean for your question to come out in the form of a whisper, you’re only a few inches away from his ear, trying to massage the tenseness out of his neck, slowly making your way to his shoulder. “This is perfect, love.”

John’s voice is breathless, almost gruff and the sound of it makes your stomach flip. You try to swallow down the saliva that's suddenly over powering the space in your mouth.

You make your way to the left side of his neck, now cradling the right side of his head in your hand while the other one makes work in his tense muscles. John slightly winces and you let out a hushed apology. “I got you.”

You don’t know why you said it, maybe to provide some sense of reassurance but your small whispered voice hits John’s ears. He fights back a full body shiver from your voice. He gulps and you can feel the action through his skin with your hands. It’s an innocent thing really but the touches seem more intimate than intended, the words adding fuel to the fire.

The tense muscles finally give away underneath the tips of your fingers and you slowly move them away, already craving the feeling of his skin- his beard underneath your hands again. “That should be good.” You give yourself one more chance and give him a soft squeeze on both of his shoulders, the feeling their broadness almost makes your knees weak.

John takes a deep breath, rolling his shoulders back to feel the new lightness on his back. “Do I have to pay extra to get that again?” He laughs. You come around his body- back to your desk and lean your back against it. “Maybe come back and say please and I’ll think about it.”

His eyes are soft, gratitude radiates off of him and you feel it, offering him a kind smile. “Let me know how you sleep for the next two or three days and then we’ll see if there's anything else I can do.”

“Sounds like a plan, love.” John knows he should probably make his way out of the room, say thanks and push the intimate moment to the depths of the folds of his brain but he can’t seem to do it. He wants to be in your presence longer, hear your voice more, anything with you.

He clears his throat. “How has the base been treating you?” He almost winces at the stupid question. The urge to punch himself is strong but he pushes it down.

“It’s alright, I think I’ve gotten the hang of things. The rest of the medical staff haven’t gotten used to me yet but I think they’ll warm up to me soon.”

“They haven’t said anything wrong to you, have they?” The kind look on John's face disappears once he hears your words, a stoic look now replacing it.

“No, they haven’t.” You giggle. “Plus you and the boys are more than welcoming. I’ll be okay.”

John knows he hasn’t been as present to your new environment as he’d like to be. He’s cramped inside his office for most of the time, in a completely different part of the base. “Well, you know I’m here if anything. Anything you need at all, love.”

You glance down at your feet- trying to hide the blush you feel rushing up to your cheeks. Fuck, he’s good at that- making you blush.

“We can meet in my office, go over some of the treatments and preventions for the team.” John’s pretty sure Laswell had mentioned that he should meet with you once a week, maybe once every other week to go over your reports and overall the health of the team. It was one of her tactics in persuading him to look into hiring you. It wouldn’t take a lot out of his schedule, or at least it shouldn’t.

“Are you sure? I don’t want to make you any busier than you already are.” The idea sounds lovely. Time to get to know him, less time in your office and away from the rest of the medical staff. John pushes himself out of the stool, coming to stand in front of you. “Don’t worry your little pretty head about it. How does next week sound?”

You probably look like a fish out of water, at least that's what you think. First love and now this? He was trying to kill you.”Yeah, that sounds good.” You sound breathless, rightfully so- your heart is beating out of control- in your throat, your chest, maybe even in your stomach.

John strides to the door, “I’ll see you then, love. Goodnight.” He flashes one more smile before turning past the doorway and down the hall. You barely have time to throw out your own good night.

You stand there for what feels like an hour, chewing at your bottom lip. It has to be some kind of crime to be that charming. When you finally regain the sturdy feeling of your legs you gather your things and try to head back to your room for a good night's sleep. You’re definitely gonna have to take care of yourself tonight to make sure you can sleep at all after that.

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A/N: I just wanna say thank you so much for all the notes on the first chapter, you guys are so cute and sweet. I added everyone who asked to be on a taglist, some even messaged me directly and tbh I don't know how to answer those without posting it for everyone to see so I didn't wanna do that incase they didn't want others to see their message. I am also so excited for the next two chapters, I have some good ideas planned that I am so excited to share with y'all. I hope you enjoy! Love you guys!

Taglist: @sharkiestory @midwesternwitchery @lavenderhhze @thriving-n-jiving @rivalriotrenegade @bitchoftoji @wasteland-babe @chloepluto1306 @sagewtff @not-so-innocent-now @scuftryo

#john price #john price x reader #simon riley x reader #simon riley #cod x reader #cod men #cod mwii #x reader

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ymechi · 6 months

Text

Who is the real Creator?

oh boy it's done! Sorry this chapter is mostly exposition and info-dumping nothing fun is really happening here. Thank you guys for the comments I loved reading them!

-TW: cult au, yandere, impostor au, mentions of being hunted down, mentions of trauma, self harm (nothing major)

-Gn reader and darling (please tell me if I mess this up message me and I will fix it)

part 1, part 2, this is part 3, part 4

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Reader's stomach turned but they tried to take even breaths.

This was ridiculous there was no evidence or proof. The manhunt was the most solid counterargument. If they were the Creator they would not have been hunted. Reader folded their hands and looked challengingly at Nahida. Try to prove it.

Nahida must have understood so she continued to talk.

"I admit I was confused at first I had assumed it was Reader who got the blessing as they had previously been able to control the acolytes, yet I was wrong. Due to Darling always controlling the vessels most of the time and due to the current Creator's presence being so weak even I managed to mix it up and I apologize for that."

She looked over at Reader with sincerity it made Reader uncomfortable enough to shift on their seat, and then she did the unimaginable, she stood up and bowed.

"Please don't I am not some creator you don't have to bow!" Reader said and jumped out of their seat.

Nahida stopped and looked over at Reader with a sorrowful expression.

"Your grace it is only fair, this was long overdue."

"No! you are wrong it still makes no sense it made more sense when it was Darling!"

"You may deny it but the more I spent with you, the closer I was with you, the clearer I felt it, your powers yet small like a budding seed are still there."

Shit she even brought up an allegory, is she being serious. From their peripherals, they could see Darling's uncomfortable expression. Reader pinched the bridge of their nose and exhaled.

"I don't feel any different though and there is so much wrong with that. I am not some creator."

Reader wanted to get up and sleep their hands felt twitchy and there was something buzzing in their skin. They needed to get out.

"Reader y'know have you. . . checked your blood yet?"

It was the first time Darling spoke in a while.

"What do you even mean, it's been red my whole life? Heck, you have seen me bleed multiple times as kids."

"I know, I know but maybe things changed when you entered this world when you were. . . you know hunted down," she quieted down at the last part, "D-did. . . you bleed?"

"N-no," Reader wrung their hands together," not really I got help from the monster and hilichurls with running away,"

Nahida made a sound of protest at hearing Reader's statements and looked down in guilt. There was a tense silence lasting only for a few seconds Reader just knew what Darling was about to say.

"Well, it doesn't hurt to check hey!-"

Reader jumped up and strode towards the kitchen cabinets taking out a knife.

"Y-your grace please wait-"

It was the first time Reader had heard Nahida stutter usually the Archon was so well-spoken and eloquent. Was it another thing she had to learn trying to fit the mold of the Archon of Wisdom?

"I have cut myself plenty of times when I first learned to cook it won't hurt."

They bought a knife towards the thumb and sliced it.

Clank.

The knife fell-

With it, golden blood fell down the floor as well.

Shit.

"Shit," Darling said.

Nahida sucked in a sharp breath.

"Your grace, please give me your hand we can't leave that be."

The Archon hurried over and opened her palms, their body moving in auto-mode as they crouched down and took Nahida's hand. Feeling what Reader thought was a small burst of dendro energy their small cut healed instantly. Nahida looked even more relieved than Reader was when the cut was healed.

Reader for the most part stood dumbfounded on the kitchen floor while Nahida watched them worriedly.

"Reader, are you okay. . .?"

"Darling what the," they paused looking at Nahida's small form," Do I do?"

"I think you should sit down first," Darling replied with a worried look.

For the second time, all three sat on the kitchen table this time for different reasons.

The weight of the revelation was a heavy burden and Reader wondered what Darling felt wearing that title. They neither wanted nor needed such a burden. Reader scowled.

"Hey Reader I've been thinking," Darling paused and looked unsure, "Do you think. . . This happened because you created my account?"

"Huh? Wait what," They paused thinking for a second, "That might actually make sense. . ."

Reader looked at Darling as if she had just solved their entire life mystery. Nahida looked at the two with confusion.

Right.

"Well, this is going to be hard to explain."

"It is alright by me take your time your grace."

Reader tried not to grimace at being called "your grace", they swallowed and held their hands together. They tried to explain what a phone and computers were and then what video games were until they took a deep breath and admitted that Genshin Impact was a game as well. Nahida remained still and took it all in rather well, Reader wondered how someone would feel if they said that the reality you live in was just a video game. When they came to that part Nahida looked contemplative a finger was put against her mouth as she was thinking. Reader thought about what the Archon of Wisdom could possibly think of in a situation like this.

"So our world was a so-called 'video game' in your world."

"Yeah it's uhh, sorry it's kind of messed up," said Darling with a Grimace.

Reader agreed all they could do was play with their hands as they waited for Nahida's reply. Maybe she'd think they were lying or both had lost it. The whole thing sounded ridiculous when they said it out loud.

"I think I get the gist of it."

"R-really you believe us?"

Nahida looked at Reader and nodded.

"This is not the first time that stories or in your case a 'video game' was made by a dream from another universe."

"Wait what," Reader stared dumbly at Nahida.

"Dreams can sometimes garner insight into other realities while it is rare it can happen, I assume the ones who made the 'video game' called Genshin Impact simply dreamed of Teyvat."

Reader put a hand on their head and tried to understand what Nahida was saying, it still sounded unbelievable even after entering this world. nonetheless, Nahida continued

"Other people playing this 'video game' should not be able to have affected Teyvat except when it comes to your grace, the Creator. Later on, you made this account, as you called it, could count as authority being handed over to Darling or a form of blessing which made Darling be able to control acolytes. The device you used in this case acted as a medium between two realities."

"O-Ohh. . . I am, I don't know what to say."

"This is mostly me guessing I can't say for sure if what I said is right, communicating between realities is extremely hard if not impossible but when it comes to your grace anything is possible," she said with a smile.

Seeing her smile Reader tried to relax a bit, stuff like this went over their head. Metaphysics was not their strong point. Reader rubbed their head.

"I don't get it but it also makes sense. . ." they paused, "also please just call me by my name I like to think we are friends now. . ."

Nahida looked at them with wide eyes but nodded with a happy smile.

"It is an honor and I like to think so too, Reader."

Reader smiled at hearing their name again from Nahida and the mood felt relaxing again. Reader suddenly felt exhausted the rain in the background lulling them. Nahida must have picked up their mood as they began to speak.

"This has been an exhausting day with many revelations, like a Snezhnayan doll we keep finding more dolls inside the ones we already opened."

"You know I am glad to hear you still speaking analogies."

"I am not sure why it does," she leans her head to the side," but if it makes you happy I am glad then."

Reader smiled at her.

"I think for now Darling should come back with me there is a guest room we could use, tomorrow will be a long day unfortunately I suggest we all try to get as much rest as we can."

Readed nodded and looked at Darling. Reader who hadn't talked to Darling in a long while before this day was a bit worried they knew Darling was usually not this quiet and well, demure. Where they were sitting they looked. . . Defeated.

Darling tried to look at them but they looked away, they knew what they would ask for. They did not want to or had no energy to entertain a sleepover with them. There was still much stuff unresolved on Readers part between them.

A cruel part of them was happy that they were hurting. Reader was hurt so Darling should hurt a bit too- they shut that part down. They did not want to indulge in cruel thoughts, They did not want to become someone cruel.

They had seen what cruel people were capable of.

Nahida bid farewell and took Darling with her. Reader said goodbye to the two and cleaned up the kitchen. Afterward, they headed to the bed.

They left the window open letting the breeze come in. A bird suddenly swooped in standing in the window sill looking at them curiously. Reader stared at the bird as well.

"Did you know?"

The bird did not answer.

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Taglist: @resident-cryptid @probablynoposts @esthelily @mitsukashi @charming-mage @chaoticfivesworld @irisxiel @dulcedelechenginamo @yu-ulda @samohxt2-0 @pinkpainc

#genshin impact #sagau #genshin sagau #self aware au #self aware genshin #cult au #yandere #imposter au #sort of not really an imposter au #mentions of trauma #self harm in this chapter but nothing major #mentions of being hunted down #nahida #I am not sure what to feel about this chapter tbh #but it's done for now #please tell me about errors and mistakes so that I can fix them

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hier--soir · 1 year

Text

under the night | four

pairing: joel miller x f!reader, set in jackson after the end of tlou part I warnings/tags: [18+ only, minors dni] language, sex, angst, jealousy, immature/possessive!joel, canon typical violence [infected feature], violence, injury/blood, vomit, hurt/comfort, and so on and so forth word count: 9k part three | series masterlist | main masterlist

The patrolmen in Jackson were dedicated. Every morning, on a rotational basis, a group of them ventured out past the gates of the settlement and explored set routes. They took down infected; they searched for essential items like soaps and medicines; but most all, they kept the town safe. Admittedly, when you first heard them called patrolmen you’d rolled your eyes, knowing damn well there were multiple women doing the job. But Tommy had just shrugged amiably, assuring you that those women weren’t bothered with the title.

That morning in particular, Joel and Tommy were scheduled to do a routine sweep of what they called the “south patrol”. Joel had never complained about how quickly he fell into the job upon his arrival in Jackson. It made sense to Tommy and Maria that he would join the team, considering the vast experience and knowledge he’d acquired in his year roaming cross country with Ellie. Never once had he begrudged his brother for being given a job and a place to live, and a warm home to sleep in.

Until, that is, he had to leave you in his bed for the sake of a fucking patrol.

“Fuck Tommy,” Joel grumbled into your neck. You laughed sleepily, pushing him off you.

“Get out of here, Joel,” you mumbled unconvincingly, rolling over to shove your head back into the pillows. It was earlier than you would’ve chosen to wake up, but you knew there was no hope of drifting back to sleep with the way the sun shone through his large bedroom window. With a huff, he was getting out of bed, and you listened drowsily to the sound of the shower running, and then to the rustling of him pulling his clothes on.

When a silence settled over the room, you risked opening your eyes a crack, only to see Joel watching you from the doorway. He stared forlornly, his eyes raking over your naked torso before you yanked the blanket back up to cover yourself.

“You’re makin’ this real hard for me you know,” he said, his forearm propped up against the doorframe.

You cracked a smile, and let your eyes shut slowly, listening to the sounds of his boots padding softly down the stairs.

A week had passed since your first night together, and it was true that you and Joel struggled to spend more than one consecutive night apart. Laying in his bed, surrounded by the smell of him, you remembered the day after like you were experiencing the moment all over again.

The knock at your front door had come after 10pm, and you’d startled at the sound, wondering who would be bothering you so late. Cal had been out at Louisa’s, so you’d tentatively walked over to the door, opening it just a crack to glance out, and then tugging it open swiftly upon seeing Joel standing on your doorstep.

“Hey there,” he’d offered a tense smile, eyes flicking down to your feet and then back up to hold your gaze.

You gripped Joel’s pillows and remembered the way he’d stepped inside your home, asking if you were alone.

“I can’t stop thinking about it. About the way you sounded… the way you felt. Can’t get you out of my damn head.”

You were drunk on each other, on the intimacy. Both enveloped in these new and devastatingly consuming feelings for one another that you were finally able to express. In the entire week, you’d only spent one night away from one another, because you had stood your ground and admitted you needed to spend some time with Cal.

From Joel’s bed, you listened to the sounds of Ellie messing around downstairs in the kitchen, no doubt trying to make herself something edible for breakfast. After the teenager had caught you leaving the house, you had been shy around her. You didn’t want your relationship to change because things with Joel had. Although Ellie had seemed enthused by the progression, you feared the dynamic would shift between you, so you tried to remain stealthy with your comings and goings from their home.

When you were sure the younger girl had left the house, you took your time with showering, and dressing for the day.

“Walk of shame,” Cal crooned lovingly from the kitchen table when you returned home. You flicked him off with a laugh, hanging up your coat. “Seriously, do you even live here anymore?”

“Fuck off, man,” you rolled your eyes, settling down in the chair opposite him. You accepted a mug of coffee with a grateful nod, and brought the liquid gold to your lips.

He chuckled quietly, pushing his bowl of oats towards you as a peace offering. You stole his spoon and cleared the rest of the food in minutes.

“How are you though?” he asked after a while, his eyes soft and genuine. You admired him, and the way his blonde hair was getting longer, flopping down over his eyes.

“I’m good, Cal,” you assured.

“You look happy,” he squinted at you, the teasing lilt returning to his voice. “You’ve got the glow of someone who’s finally made some fucking friends.”

“Took a leaf out of your book,” you winked.

Your heart felt full. For so many years, you and Cal had been one another’s salvation. You’d relied on each other for survival, for companionship, but amongst it all, there had been stretches of time so dire that you didn’t laugh for weeks at a time. To be sat with him, in your home, somewhere safe like Jackson, and laughing together… even after so many months there, it still struck you sometimes how lucky you were.

It was a few hours later, when you ventured toward the stables to check in on Dot, that you bumped into Tommy and Joel returning from patrol.

The brothers were putting away their saddles when you pushed the gate open.

Tommy greeted you warmly, although his smile didn’t quite reach his eyes. Your gaze drifted slowly from him to his older brother, trying to gage the tense atmosphere.

“Hey guys,” you wrapped your arms around yourself, shivering from the bitter weather. Joel leaned against the stable wall, fiddling with the bit in his hands, his eyes hard on Tommy. “Who died?”

Joel’s eyes snapped to you, his expression grim.

“Woah,” you said lowly. “What the fuck, did someone actually die?”

“We found a body out there,” Tommy admitted quietly, stealing a glance over his shoulder to check if anyone else was listening.

“Where?”

His face seemed hesitant, as if he were unsure of sharing much information with you. He rubbed the back of his neck in the same way Joel did when he was trying to find the right words. “A few miles away. A woman. No one from here; we didn’t recognise her.”

“Bitten?” you asked quietly, your breaths short. The idea of anyone being outside those gates made your chest hurt suddenly, as the memories of life out there raced through your brain.

“No,” Joel answered gruffly, and you looked at him. “It must’ve been raiders, but the snowfall last night means there wasn’t much for us to do by means of tracking them.”

“We’re going out again tomorrow,” Tommy butt in firmly, staring at his older brother. “I want this shit figured out.”

You didn’t know what made you say it, but the words tumbled from your mouth. All fear forgotten, you blurted, “Let me come with you.”

“What?” Joel huffed sharply, glaring at you. “Fat chance.”

You scowled in his direction, looking at Tommy. “I lived out in the open for years, I can help you with tracking, even through the snow.”

Joel ground out your name, his eyes flashing with a warning that you couldn’t quite decipher.

“She has a point Joel,” Tommy held his hand up towards his brother, stopping the interruption he knew was coming. “Plus, we could use the extra pair of hands. Someone to watch our six.”

You would have never admitted it, but Tommy was right. The concern you felt for Joel all of a sudden was an unwelcome, painful feeling. After the past week, the idea of him going out past the gates made your throat tighten. You wanted to be out there with them, watching their six – keeping him safe.

“I don’t like it,” is all Joel said, eyes staring at the ground. “We can take Jesse.”

He’d rather have a 19-year-old kid on patrol with them, than you?

“Fuck, Jesse. I’ll be here tomorrow morning at 7,” you told Tommy, who nodded once.

“We should get going,” Joel pushed off the wall, and you looked to him in confusion. “I promised you I’d fix that leaky tap in your kitchen.” You didn’t remember ever having a conversation about your kitchen tap, but you nodded slowly anyways, sparing a glance in Dot’s direction before surmising that you’d check in on the horse properly in a few days.

“Fix her leaky tap my ass,” Tommy muttered, earning him a grunt from Joel. He put his hand on the small of your back and encouraged you out of the stables, leaving Tommy laughing as he finished packing up their equipment.

Walking down the street in the direction of your house, you braced yourself for Joel’s frustration. You could tell he was tense in the stables, and unhappy with your decision. But you couldn’t help the way anxiety ticked away in your chest. Nothing good comes from wanting. Yet there you were, with Joel so close finally, and a reminder had been served to you that he could be taken away so fucking easily. Letting people in meant opening yourself up to pain, and you were suddenly terrified by how fast things were moving between you two; how much he meant to you after a single week of being anything more than friends.

“Joel,” you started quietly.

“We’ll talk about it later,” he said quickly, squeezing your shoulder before lowering his hand once again to rest on your lower back. You nodded slowly, glancing around the street and noticing Rosie Paulson, a girl around Ellie’s age, staring at the pair of you from her front porch. Instinctively, you brushed off Joel’s hand, putting a wider berth between you.

“That Paulson girl is staring at us like we’re naked,” you explained under your breath, walking faster.

“Nosy fucking kids,” Joel grunted in response, not even glancing in the girl’s direction.

You remembered the impression you’d gotten of Joel when you first arrived in Jackson; that cold, private person who kept to himself. The other people in the town saw the same in him, and you knew it would’ve been cause for curiosity; for them to suddenly spot him walking around town with you by his side.

Your house came into view, and you started to chuckle. “So, what’s all this leaky tap business, Miller?”

He gave a short laugh and looked at you from the corner of his eye. “Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“Needed an excuse to get you alone.”

You barked out a laugh and led him quickly up the stairs to the front door, unlocking it hastily. Before you were fully inside, his hands were on you, prying the zip of your jacket down. He kicked the door shut behind him with a slam, and pushed you up against it, his fingers pressing against the skin underneath your shirt. All your anxieties blew away in the wind when you felt his hands on your body.

“Fuck,” you gasped in shock. “Your hands are fucking freezing.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he mumbled into your mouth, pressing his lips to your urgently. “Help me warm ‘em up.”

Putting your hands on his chest, you pushed him off you. “C’mon,” you encouraged, leading him to your bedroom. It was a painful dichotomy; fearing getting so close to him, so quickly, and yet not being able to keep your damn hands off him. When you clicked the bedroom door closed, you turned to find him standing at the edge of your bed, watching you with dark eyes.

“I really didn’t want to leave this morning,” he spoke lowly. “Wanted to stay in those sheets all wrapped up in you.” Through the admission he seemed somewhat shy, a flush still rising in his cheeks when he bared his feelings to you so honestly. Though you’d spent your nights together, no conversation had been had about what exactly you were doing. You’d admitted you liked being near each other, but not much else. And you decided you were okay with not knowing; if it meant you got to have Joel in any capacity.

You hummed, stepping forward to place your hands on his cheeks, and running your fingers through the coarse bristles of his beard. He leaned in and kissed you gently, his tongue swiping along your bottom lip before pressing eagerly into your mouth. You sighed softly, breathing in the scent of him. Your heart still raced like it was the first time.

You stripped each other’s clothes off hastily, until you were clad in nothing but your underwear, and cold fingers didn’t matter anymore because your skin had grown hot with desire.

You pushed gently on his chest and when the back of his calves hit the bed, he fell onto it with a huff of surprise. He shuffled backward until his head hit the pillows, and you crawled up to straddle him. Your fingertips trailed lightly over his skin and through the soft smattering of hair on his chest.

His eyes flashed dark with desire, and he grit his teeth. You felt powerful astride him, with your hands pressing down on his shoulders to keep him pinned to your bed.

“This how you want it?” he rasped.

“What can I say,” you smirked. “Save a horse, ride a cowboy.”

He let out a sharp laugh, but it was cut off by a grunt when you ground down against him. You sighed at the feeling of him pulsing against your core, only two thin pieces of fabric separating you now. His eyes closed involuntarily, face relaxing at the feeling of you rubbing against him. But then they snapped open, trained on you again. You remembered what he’d said during your first time together. I don’t want to miss a single thing.

One of his hands left your waist and drifted between your thighs. He pulled your underwear to the side, and you exhaled heavily as one of his thick fingers dipped between your folds.

“Christ,” he exhaled. “You’re wet already, baby.”

“Can’t help it,” you whimpered, the pet name causing a flood of heat to rip through you. Your stomach tensed as he swirled his fingertip over your entrance, and spread the wetness upward, finally making contact with your pulsing clit. He drew light circles around it at first, enjoying the way you held your breath at the feeling, and then would sharply gasp for air as he changed his rhythm.

“That feel good?” he asked, watching your expressions.

“So good,” you breathed, eyebrows pulled together tightly as you grinded against his hand.

He slipped a finger inside you, sighing huskily at the feeling of your walls tightening around him. You loved the sounds he made when his hands were on you; as if he would die happy just from having had the chance to touch you. After a moment, he pushed a second digit inside, curling them against your walls and scissoring them, stretching you out for him.

You kissed him messily, teeth nipping at his bottom lip, before running your lips down his jugular. You tried to stop yourself from leaving marks in your wake, although you knew Joel wouldn’t be bothered.

“Fuck Joel,” you huffed, lips pausing on his skin when his fingers hit a particularly sensitive spot inside you. “Stop.”

His hand stilled instantly, eyes searching your face in confusion.

“I need to fuck you,” you said firmly, pushing his hand away from your body and leaning back to tug your panties down your legs. Joel followed suit, desperately yanking his briefs down his legs before grabbing your hips to pull you back over him. Unintentionally, when you rested above him, the head of his cock nudged against your folds, and he moaned deeply.

“God,” you sighed, reaching down to grip him in your hand. You pushed his head through your folds, letting your slick coat his already weeping tip.

He groaned your name, fingertips digging into your hipbones. “Love how wet you get for me.”

You whined and couldn’t help but press your entrance down onto his head, longing to feel him inside of you. But common sense flared in the back of your mind, and you reached over desperately to grab a condom from the bedside table. Shuffling down to sit on his thighs, you ripped open the foil with your teeth, enjoying the way he stroked his cock and watched you with hooded eyes.

You knocked his hand away to roll the latex down his length, giving him a firm tug once it was on. Not wasting a second, he lined himself up to your entrance, and you sunk down onto his length.

You gasped, eyes shutting instinctively. For all the nights you’d spent together that week, it was the first time you’d ridden him. The position helped him hit a spot so deep inside that it had you seeing stars behind your eyelids.

“God damn it,” Joel spat, eyes rolling back in his head. One of his hands gripped the blanket, and the other held your waist in a vice grip.

“Shit Joel,” you whimpered. “You’re so deep like this, f-fuck.” Your breathless tone drove him crazy, and he begged you to move.

“You can take it, darlin’,” he encouraged. “Show me how well you can take me.”

You clenched around him, your slick dripping down and coating both of your thighs. Slowly, you lifted up before dropping back down, crying out as he instantly hit that spot inside of you again. Hungry for more, you got to work; lifting up and grinding down in a beautiful rhythm that had him making filthy sounds beneath you, reaching up to pinch and tug on your nipples.

“Look so fucking good like this,” he grunted, his eyes flicking between your face and the way your tits bounced with every movement.

You grabbed his hands and shoved them into the pillows beside his head, leaning over him so he could suck one of your nipples into his mouth. He moaned into your skin, nipping gently at the painfully tight buds. With your torso bent forward, your clit brushed deliciously against the coarse hair at his base, and you couldn’t help but just grind yourself against him for a moment, letting out soft whines.

“That’s it, baby,” he groaned into your chest. “Fuck yourself against me.”

With the sensation of him deep inside you, and the friction on your clit, an orgasm hit you out of nowhere. You cried out in shock, gripping his shoulders as your body bowed into his chest.

“Fuck,” he yelled into your skin, his hands wrapping around your back to hold you to him. You’d come to learn that your orgasm was often what pushed him over the edge, and could tell he was holding back, waiting.

Your body was shaking as the pleasure rolled through you, and Joel’s mouth sponging kisses across your chest did nothing to lessen the intensity of the moment. As your body relaxed, he began nudging his hips upwards, making you whimper.

“Not done with you yet, baby,” Joel rasped, his fingers dragging down your back as he fucked up into you. He was so thick, so heavy, inside you, and even in the minutes after an orgasm, you had to steel yourself in preparation for another. With all your strength, your pushed herself back into a seated position.

“You’re too far away,” he grunted, attempting to push himself up so you were chest to chest.

“Uh uh,” you tutted breathlessly. Your hands were on his chest, holding him against the bed. “Thought you didn’t wanna miss a thing, Miller? Watch me.”

His eyes flicked down from your face to your chest, your stomach, all the way down to where you were connected. Sweat beaded on his forehead, and his neck was flushed red. You could only imagine that you looked the same way, as your chest heaved with exhausted breaths.

“So beautiful,” he breathed out, and your cheeks burned. The moment was almost too intense. Post orgasm, with him deep inside of you, saying words you struggled to accept about yourself.

“Fuck me,” you begged him, and he obliged.

His grip on your waist was bruising, using his strength to hold you still while he thrust up into you. You were sure there would be fingerprint shaped marks on you the next day, and the thought made you shiver.

“Y’feel so,” he grunted. “So fuckin’ good for me.”

You leaned back and rested your hands on his thighs for leverage, moaning lowly at the new, tighter angle.

“Oh,” you sighed. “Oh, you’re gonna make me cum again, Joel.”

He cursed loudly, his rhythm breaking for a second before starting up again at a faster rate. “C’mon,” he encouraged, dark eyes bearing into yours. Holding his gaze, a shiver ran down your spine as you noted a hint of frustration. Joel was being rough, pounding into you with no mercy, desperate for you to cum again. It seemed the tension from the conversation in the barn hadn’t disappeared entirely.

Choked sobs fell from your mouth involuntarily as he bounced you on top of him. His teeth were gritted as he snarled, “Want to feel you cum all over my cock. I know you can.”

His words were enough to send you over the edge a second time, and a guttural cry tore out of your throat as you toppled into your orgasm. Joel followed close behind, his hips snapping messily into yours over and over again, while he let out rough curses and mumbles of your name.

Heavy breaths filled the air around you as you collapsed onto his chest. You left feather soft kisses along his collarbones, your eyes closed in exhaustion. He gripped your waist and spun you slowly so your back hit the pillows, before pulling himself out of you.

“I meant it,” he said a short while later. You’d cleaned up and were laying in bed, hands stroking each other’s skin absentmindedly. You looked at him in confusion. He reached out and traced a finger along the scar on your cheek. “You’re so beautiful.”

You cringed quickly, tucking your face into the pillow.

“Don’t do that,” he pleaded in a whisper. “Don’t hide from me.”

“It’s hard,” you muttered, still not meeting his eye-line. “This all feels very… intense.”

He nodded slowly, eyes watching you warily. “Is that… bad?”

“It’s not bad,” you rushed out. “It’s just different. It’s been a long time since I’ve had a… a you.”

“Long time for me too,” he said. You stared at each other for a moment, not saying anything. Finally, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“I need to eat something,” you mumbled into his mouth, eager to change the subject. “Or I’m gonna pass out.”

“Can’t have that. Need you to keep your energy up,” he replied, his palm gripping your ass quickly. “Can’t have you tirin’ out on me.”

You scoffed, jumping off the bed to tug on a pair of underwear and a random singlet.

As you walked down the hallway into the kitchen, he called out, “I’m hungry too!” You replied with a laugh, and a “yeah yeah!”

You rifled through the kitchen cabinets for a few minutes and contemplated heating up a can of soup, until your eyes landed on the bag of oranges you’d picked up a few days beforehand.

You grabbed one with an eager smile, and began pealing the rind over the sink, not noticing the front door opening in your periphery.

“Jesus, aren’t you cold, freak?”

“Shit!” you jumped, almost dropping the fruit. “You scared me.”

Cal was leaning against the kitchen doorway, staring at you in incredulity.

“Not my fault you’re wandering around in your underwear with your head up in the clouds,” he was laughing.

“Shh, shh,” you hushed him with a snort. “Joel’s here.”

“Oh shit,” Cal said, eyes wide with mischief. “Grumpy old Joel Miller in our house?”

“Give it a rest,” you rolled your eyes, starting up on your peeling again. “How was your day?”

“It was good,” he trailed off, eyes flicking down the hall over your shoulder. You could hear Joel’s footsteps approaching the kitchen, but held focus on the orange, tearing white strands off the juicy flesh. Your cheeks flushed at what the two of you must’ve looked like; half dressed, with messy hair and tired eyes.

“Hey Joel,” Cal nodded politely, raising his hand in a wave.

Joel settled directly behind you, and your eyes went wide when you felt his bare chest press against your back, and his hand come down to land on your stomach. His long fingers splayed against you, pinkie resting dangerously close to the band of your underwear.

“Howdy,” he said quietly. His thumb toyed with the hem of your singlet, brushing underneath the fabric along your bare skin. You turned your head slightly to see Joel out of the corner of your eye, but he was staring directly at Cal. Your heart started to beat a little faster at the sudden awkward tension in the air. What was he doing?

Joel’s face was devoid of emotion, even the skin between his eyebrows was uncharacteristically smooth. But everything his face hid, his body language screamed. His knee brushed against the back of your leg, and where the contact would normally have made you shiver, you found herself stunned into silence by what you realised was a clear display of possessiveness. Joel was marking his territory in front of Cal, and you wanted no fucking part in it.

“How are you?” Cal asked warily, clearly confused by the dynamic between the two of you.

“I’m grand,” Joel said with a tone of finality, and no indication of wanting to continue the conversation. Your brain flashed back to the first time you’d met him, and what you’d thought; rude motherfucker. The adoration you’d felt for the man only minutes before was long gone, replaced with a burning frustration at his behaviour.

The silence was agonising, but you didn’t know how to break it. Cal fidgeted, eyes glancing at Joel’s hand before looking to the floor uneasily. Your stomach twisted as Joel leaned down a pressed a chaste kiss to the side of your neck. Cal cleared his throat into his elbow and finally muttered something about heading over to Louisa’s. Willing yourself to move, you gripped Joel’s hand and pried it off you. You turned and stalked back towards the bedroom; the orange forgotten on the counter.

When he entered the room behind you, you spun around angrily. “What the hell was that?”

“What?” he asked innocently, hands raised in the air.

“You practically propped your leg up and pissed on me back there,” you grunted. “Like a dog marking your fucking territory.”

He said your name softly, arms lowering.

“Don’t say my name like that,” you said. “What the hell was that?”

“What, I can’t touch you?” he asked defensively.

“Did you see how uncomfortable he was? Your hand was practically up my shirt!”

“Well good,” he growled, and you paused, mouth falling open. “Maybe I wanted to set the record straight.”

“Set the record…” you stared at him wide eyed. “What the fuck are you talking about, Joel?”

His face relaxed suddenly as he realised how appalled you were by him, and he made a quick step toward you. “Okay, look,” he surrendered, hands reaching out to you. “I’m sorry, okay?”

“Why did you do that?” you pushed, stepping back.

He breathed your name again, his eyes darting to stare at the wall. He gripped his hands together in front of him, cracking his fingers roughly. “Look, I-I can’t help but think about you and him living in this house together sometimes… knowing what I kno-“

“Jesus Christ,” you interrupted, pulling a pair of trousers from the chest of drawers, and beginning to tug them up your legs.

“Now listen,” he said from behind you. “I’m sorry, but-“

“But what, Joel?” you turned back, zipping your pants. “I was honest with you, before any of this started between us. I told you more about my history, including what happened with Cal, than I have with another person, ever. I trusted you, thought you’d take it at face value. But then here you are, on a weird possessive kick, trying to lay some sort of claim on me in front of him? Cal is like my fucking brother, I told you that.”

“I do trust you, but I doubt it’s the fuckin’ same for him,” he ground out, his face reddening. This wasn’t the soft spoken, kind man you had gotten so close with. He was frustrated and angry, and you didn’t like this side to him. “What am I supposed to think? How do I know that he’s not just holdin’ out hope, waitin’ for you to change your mind?”

It was as though all the tension from the past few hours bubbled up inside of you. The stern words in the barn, Joel thinking he could make decisions for you, stop you from coming on patrol. And now this. If anybody else in Jackson dared to do these things, try to tell you what to do, you’d have their fucking tongue for it.

“Because you’re wrong!” you shouted, unable to help yourself. Your chest was heaving with sharp breaths; the situation astounded you. Is he fucking serious? “And you know what Joel, Cal will always be in my life. He’s been with me for a long time before you, and he’ll be with me for a long time after you. And if you can’t fucking handle that, then I don’t know what to tell you.”

Your mouth had moved faster than your brain, and you regret the phrasing as soon as it came out. But it was too late to take it back, so you steeled your shoulders and held your ground. Joel’s face fell quickly, his mouth turning down in dismay.

After you, you’d said. After you.

His hurt expression made your chest ache, but he cleared his throat and covered it up in a second.

“Well then,” he nodded, bending down to yank his clothes off the floor. He dressed in silence, not looking at you again, before turning and walking out of the room. You watched him leave with wide eyes, tears threatening your water line. Left standing alone in the house, you could only wonder what the fuck had just happened. Maybe you’d been right; wanting never brings anything good.

The nightmares returned that night. After a long week of peaceful deep sleep, the fear was paralysing, and somehow, you’d forgotten just how awful it felt. You slept fitfully, drifting in and out with no reprieve from your own mind.

By the time 6am rolled around, you tore out of bed to start the day. Washing your face in the bathroom, you ran your finger along the scar on your cheekbone, glaring at your reflection. No matter what you did, it would serve as a reminder of how weak you’d been made to feel, all those years ago. You weren’t supposed to be beautiful; you were supposed to be strong.

It was bitterly cold outside. As you trudged towards the stables to meet Joel and Tommy the wind whipped painfully against your skin. Shoving your hands deep in your pockets, you tried to ignore the feelings of regret you had over pushing so hard to come along on the patrol. The argument with Joel rung in your head on a constant loop, and you cringed to think of how tense things were about to be.

His pained expression flashed through your mind, but you willed it away as quickly as it came. You were angry with him. If he’d just told you how he felt, maybe you would have understood, but instead he acted like a child. You rolled your eyes thinking about it. Maybe it was for the best this had happened early on in your... situation with him.

“Oh, hey!” a voice called suddenly, and your head whipped around to spot the newbie jogging in your direction.

“Lincoln,” you nodded at him. “How’re you settling in?”

“Settling in well,” he grinned, his cheeks rosy from the cold. “Surprised to spot anyone else out and about so early.” You gave him a wry smile, doing your best to be polite. It was too early for small talk, and you’d heard from the girls at the stables just how chatty he could be.

“Headed out on patrol,” you said shortly, sighing quietly when he changed his course of direction and fell into step beside you.

“Oh, wow!” he said, too loud for your tired brain. “I thought I’d heard you worked at the stables?”

You could see the barn at the end of the street. So close.

“I normally do, just helping out Tommy this morning.”

“Well,” he stopped walking, and you found yourself pausing too, reminding yourself to be respectful. “I’ll leave you be. Be careful out there. Never know what kind of madness you might come across outside those gates.”

You stared at him for a second, brain struggling to catch up with his shift in tone. Lincoln’s cheery smile was gone, and his face seemed almost solemn as he gave the warning.

When you didn’t respond for a moment, he spoke again. “You be safe then.”

“Always am,” you quipped, before turning to stalk towards the stables.

Joel and Tommy were already preparing the horses when you arrived. Tommy gave a friendly wave when he spotted you, beckoning you over.

“Morning, you remember how to use one of these?” he held a rifle out to you.

“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, stealing a glance in Joel’s direction. He was adjusting the saddle on his horse, and didn’t acknowledge your presence. You shouldered the gun and let out a quick huff of exasperation. Fine.

“Joel saddled Dot up for you,” Tommy said. “We’ll head out in a second.”

Your annoyance waned ever so slightly, and you stared at Joel’s back curiously. He still didn’t turn; whatever he was fiddling with on Percy’s saddle must’ve been pretty damn interesting.

“That’s nice,” you muttered.

“Yeah,” Tommy muttered, gaze flitting awkwardly between the two of you when he noted your disingenuous tone. The contrast from when the three of you were last in the stables together was vast, and the younger Miller’s confusion was palpable.

Joel didn’t say anything as you mounted your horses and rode out of the gates. You hung back, trailing behind their horses while you gained your bearings outside the walls of the settlement.

Large mountains decorated the scene, dusted so beautifully with snow that it would be picturesque if you weren’t so uneasy. It had been so many months since you arrived in Jackson, and being back outside caused your heart rate to kick up a notch. The landscape was vast, and memories of extensive stretches of time spent wandering aimlessly through the country played in your mind. So many cold winters spent hidden in dilapidated buildings, huddled underneath thin blankets, praying you wouldn’t lose your toes to the cold.

“So, we’re going back along the south patrol,” Tommy called back to you. “Same as what we did yesterday. Don’t worry too much about where we’re going, just follow us. Keep your eyes and ears open for anything strange.”

“Roger that,” you called back.

The three of you rode in silence for the first hour. You didn’t mind it much. Your shoulders were tense as you focused on your surroundings. Your ears were sensitive to the smallest of movements, body twitching at the slightest sounds.

“There she is,” you heard Tommy say up ahead, and your breathing hitched. “Fucking hell, the animals must’ve gotten to her.”

Dot trotted into step beside Tommy’s horse, and with a rolling stomach you looked down and spotted the body.

The dead woman was mangled, gory tears in her flesh clear even through the light smattering of snow that had fallen upon her. Animals had clearly gotten to her through the night, and you cringed to see the blood splattered on the bright white ground around her body. Joel was silent.

The three of you tied your horses to a nearby tree and set off on foot, looking for any signs the raiders might have left behind.

“I’m tellin’ you Tommy, we won’t find anything,” you could hear Joel grumbling under his breath up ahead. “She probably just fucking froze.”

“Let’s just be sure, Joel,” Tommy said firmly.

Joel exhaled heavily, and was turning his head to say something else, when you heard it. it was faint, almost too quiet to notice, but your ears pricked up.

Clicking.

Your feet ground to a halt. “Shut up,” you hissed.

“I beg your par-“ Joel turned to look at you for the first time, but stopped speaking when he saw the alarmed expression on your face.

You held a finger to your lips. Listen, you mouthed. Tommy and Joel shared a brief look, before Tommy gripped your jacket collar and hauled you forward to stand in between them.

“I thought they froze out here in the Winter,” you said quietly, eyebrows furrowed.

“Not all of ‘em,” Joel grunted.

“Alright, we move slowly,” Tommy whispered, eyes darting across their surroundings. “As quiet as possible. There shouldn’t be many, so we’ll sort this fucker out and then get back to the gate.”

“We’re gonna kill it?” you asked, eyes wide. Never in your years in the wild had you actively sought out any infected. When you heard clicking, you went the other way. “We should just head back now.”

“It’s part of the patrol. Gotta clear out any infected we come across,” Tommy told you, eyes apologetic. “You’ll be fine.” You refrained from admitting that it wasn’t you that you were worried about. As much as you and Cal had done your best to avoid them, you’d had to kill plenty of infected in your lives. But you were hit with the sudden realisation that you hadn’t even brought a knife with you. Jesus, I’m out of practice.

Quietly as possible, you checked that your rifle was loaded, and the three of you walked toward the noise with your weapons raised. Your heartbeat thudded rhythmically in your ears, and the ache of anxiety grew in your chest. The clicking grew louder the further you walked, and your heart stuttered when they finally came into view. Not one, but two.

Your palms were sweaty against the rifle, and you cursed quietly, reaching down to wipe your right hand on the thigh of your pants.

“We’re good,” Joel whispered. You could see him watching you, out of the corner of your eye, but your gaze stayed trained on the duo up ahead. They were close together, twitching and writhing underneath a tall tree a few hundred metres ahead.

The way the creatures transformed with time never ceased to amaze you, in a morbid way. Fungal plates grew out of their heads, hues of bright orange and blue. After a year or so of infection, the fungus had solidified their bodies, making them stronger; more impenetrable. These should be the things that haunted your nightmares.

The three of you crept forward, and the infected were unaware of your presence, until a twig snapped painfully loud under your boot. They let out loud screeches, heads snapping in the direction of the sound.

You grunted as your right side roughly bumped against Joel’s left, and you realised that you’d both moved to step in front of the other. “Get back,” he barked, staring through the scope on his rifle.

“I got the left,” Tommy shouted, all attempts at stealth thrown out the window. A deafening crack rang out as Tommy shot at one of the clickers. Joel took a shot at the one on the right but growled in frustration when the bullet sizzled just past it. He went to empty the bullet casing and swore when his gun jammed.

You could hear Tommy somewhere to your left, warning you that there was a third infected. Stepping forward, you shot at the one running at you and Joel. The bullet lodged solidly in its torso, but it was too close at that point, and within a second it was on you.

“Fuck,” you yelled, the wind getting knocked from your lungs as you landed on you back.

Your hands pushed at its neck, holding its snapping mouth as far from you as you could. It was snarling and screaming in you face, and white noise rushed in your ears. Its arms flailed, hands swiping viciously towards your face. It landed a heavy blow to the side of your head, and you screamed in pain. A thunderous shot rang out, and a wet sensation splashed across your face. Your head smacked back against the ground as you recoiled, the clicker collapsing above you with its head split open.

The body was heavy on top of you, and a painful buzzing in your left ear had you grimacing in discomfort. You cupped your ears in attempt to soothe the ache. The weight on top of you finally disappeared, and you took the opportunity to roll onto your side. Warm hands were on your back, your arms, grabbing you.

Joel’s urgent voice finally reached you, calling your name, and you opened your eyes. His knees thudded heavily into the snow beside you, hands gripping the lapels of your jacket and dragging you into a seated position.

You stared at him in a wide-eyed daze. His hands ran over your body frantically, tugging your collar away from your neck to touch your skin, and checking your bare hands. He snapped your name, trying to get your attention. “Are you bit?”

Your face was so wet. As you slowly returned to clarity, it was all you could feel. And in a horrifying moment of realisation, it was all you could taste. The smell of metal and rot had invaded your mouth, your nose. You pushed herself back from Joel just in time to empty the contents of your stomach onto the snow between you.

He gripped your hair at the base of your neck, rubbing your back in short, rough circles. Somewhere far off, you thought you could hear speaking, but it was muffled.

“Is she bit, Joel?” Tommy was saying. Your stomach twisted violently, and you vomited again. When you managed to settle, Joel tugged you up onto your feet, his arm wrapping around your waist.

“Joel?" Tommy urged louder.

“She’s not fucking bit!” Joel yelled, his eyes tight with concern as he wiped the blood off your face with a rag. He walked hastily in the direction of the horses, and when you finally reached them, he tried to get you on his horse with him.

“I can ride,” you mumbled, your own voice sounding muffled.

“Just come wit-“

“I can ride on my own,” you asserted, allowing him to help you mount Dot.

The ride back to the gate was long. Joel rode right next to you, not speaking but never letting you out of his sight. The shock was wearing off, but you felt like you had vertigo; dizziness made you grip the reins tighter, and you prayed internally that you wouldn’t fall off. When the gate finally came into view, you could’ve sobbed from relief.

On Maria’s orders, you weren’t allowed to leave the gate check in point until the settlement’s doctor came and gave the all the clear. Tommy and Maria watched you like a hawk, but you paid them no mind. You were sat on the ground, cradling your aching ear, while Joel made futile attempts to clean up your face. He couldn’t do much though, without warm water. No one said anything.

“You’ve got a perforated eardrum,” Dr Llewellyn told you, after shining a light into your left ear. It was leaking a clear, blood-tinged fluid that made your skin itch. “I’ll give you some antibiotics to help ward off any infection, but it should heal up on its own within a fortnight or so.”

“Okay,” you nodded slowly, accepting a small bottle of pills. “Thank you.” Considering you were covered in blood and brain matter and dirt, you were surprised by how unfazed Llewellyn appeared.

A low whistle rung out and you turned to look at Tommy. “I’m impressed,” he said quietly. “You held your own out there. We could use someone like you on the patrol team.”

“Tommy,” Joel started, but you interrupted him.

“Can you take me home?” His head swung to look at you and he was nodding quickly, gripping you hand to pull you up off the ground.

He was quiet, on the walk back. It wasn’t out of character, but you could sense a unique solemnity to it. One of his hands was on you at all times, and his head darted around constantly to see if there was anyone on the street who would spot you. Your demeanour would definitely cause alarm, and he wanted to avoid it if possible. The hearing in your left ear was almost entirely muted, and you walked in a daze, wincing at the headache pulsing in your skull.

Cal was still out when you got back, and Joel ushered you into the bathroom. He started the shower and helped you strip out of your ruined clothes. When the water was warm, and you were standing naked in the middle of the room, he turned toward the door.

“Joel,” you whispered, tears brimming on your waterline. As the shock wore off fully, you felt panic flare inside of you again. “Please stay.”

“Of course,” he hushed, putting his hand on your shoulder. His face looked tired, eyes and mouth downturned in concern. “Let’s clean you up, okay darlin’?”

You nodded meekly, allowing him to walk you into the shower and underneath the warm spray. He kicked his shoes and socks off, peeling his clothes off quickly before stepping into the stream of water beside you. Red and brown water ran down your body, and you shut your eyes quickly. You hair was matted thickly to your head, dried blood glueing it to your scalp.

Joel’s hands rubbed water into it, gently working out the tangles until it was clean. When the blood and grime was gone, he shampooed and conditioned it, nudging your head back softly to wash the suds out. You kept your eyes closed, tears still welling in them. The sense of failure and shame bubbled painfully in your chest. Why couldn’t you keep yourself safe? Why did you always get hurt? You felt like a fucking liability.

He pressed a quick kiss to your forehead, signifying that your hair was clean, and began rubbing soap over your body.

“Joel,” you said his name again urgently, voice thick with unshed tears.

“I’m here,” he soothed.

“I need you to check,” you said, voice so low he almost didn’t hear you.

“Check what?” he asked after a moment, his tone steely. Your eyes opened, and a tear rolled down your cheek as you stared at his blank expression. His hands had stopped moving.

“Please, just,” you gulped. “Check for bites. We might’ve missed something.”

“You’re not fuckin’ bit,” he ground out.

“Please,” you begged, a sob racking through you body. “What if there’s one and we just haven’t seen it? Please.”

“Okay, okay, I’ve got you,” he acquiesced finally, realising that your panic wouldn’t subside until he did this for you.

With painstaking care, he resumed his ministrations along your body. Dragging the bar of soap along your skin, checking for bites on your neck, your back. His fingers traced the length of your arms, down to your fingers. His knees cracked loudly as he crouched beside you, hands brushing down your legs, checking.

When he stood back up, he wrapped his arms around you and tugged you into his chest. “You’re safe,” he murmured in your ear, grip tightening as you cried. “There’s nothing, you’re safe.”

Joel had you wrapped in a blanket and in front of the burning fire in your living room within the hour. He’d rifled through Cal’s room looking for a beanie, and gently tugged the navy hat on your head when he returned.

“He won’t mind I’m sure,” Joel muttered while dropping down onto the ground on your right side. He stared affectionately at how cosy you looked.

“He won’t. We share clothes all the time,” you said softly, gaging his reaction. He nodded slowly, eyes staring into the fire. The moment reminded you so strongly of the night a few weeks prior, when he’d found you wandering Jackson late at night in search of firewood, with a busted face.

“I’m sorry,” he said, the sincerity in his tone surprising you. His gaze held on the flames, but his hand drifted under the blanket to rest on your knee. “I was out of line, and I acted like a jealous kid. I don’t know what came over me.”

You didn’t speak for a moment, mulling his words over in your head. All the anger you’d felt towards him was so foreign now, after your near death experience, but you knew you had to talk about it. The way he’d held you in the shower, cleaned your skin... you weren’t ready be done with him.

“I suppose I’ve been relying on myself for so long,” he continued. “That I gotta … adjust to having other people in the picture. I had to adjust with Ellie, and now with you… I’m adjusting again. And it’s a good change; I want you in the picture.”

“You do?” you asked, wishing he would look at you. His cheeks were red from the warmth of the fire, and he cleared his throat nervously, nodding.

Finally, he turned his head to meet your eye. “I think I’ve wanted you in it since the first time I met you.”

You rolled your eyes, “That’s bullshit, Joel.”

“Okay,” he laughed quietly. “The fourth time I met you, then.”

You stared at each other. For once, you didn’t feel like hiding as his eyes slid over the features of your face, taking you in.

“Cal’s my family,” is all you said.

“And I won’t get in the way of that,” he held your gaze.

“Are you sure?”

He breathed your name. “It terrifies me to admit it but… I want you in any way I can have you. If Cal is your family, then I’m not going to fuck with that. I trust you.”

“He’s happy, you know,” you started, resting your hand on top of his. You chose your words carefully. “That you’re… in my life. He thinks you’re a good person.”

Joel’s eyes softened further, and he had the good grace to appear embarrassed.

“I need to say something though,” you continued, and his face tightened with alertness, hanging on your every word. “After everything that I’ve been through, the way I’ve lived… being in Jackson has brought order back to my life, Joel. And I need that. I need to feel in control of my life, and my decisions. If I want something, like going on a patrol,” his eyes darkened, but he stayed silent. “then I will. And you need to accept that about me. My decisions are my own.”

“They are,” he said firmly, squeezing your knee.

After a beat of silence, you gripped his hand tighter, and admitted, “I want you too. In my picture.”

He nodded, leaning in to rest his forehead against yours. “I know, darlin’.”

“Gonna have to stay on my right side though, with this bum ear,” you sighed.

“We can handle a perforated ear drum,” Joel chuckled quietly, his nose brushing against yours. “You stay on my left, and I’ll stay on your right. We only need two workin’ ears between us."

And as sweet as it was, the moment was broken by the front door of the house unlocking loudly, and Cal stumbled into the room. He took in the picture quickly, watching you both with a distressed look on his face.

“Cal?” you asked, eyes wide. You figured he'd heard what happened on the patrol and rushed home to see you.

“You okay?” Joel stood, taking in the younger man in confusion.

“Sorry,” he breathed heavily, pushing his snow slicked hair back off his forehead. “Sorry to interrupt.”

“Don’t apologise,” Joel said, offering a sheepish smile. Cal watched him warily, and looked to you.

“Someone’s gone missing,” he said, catching you off guard. Your shoulders tensed, and you nodded.

“Milena, right?” you asked. “I heard the other day. I thought she’d just left Jackson.”

“Who?” Cal frowned, his hands shaking. “No, it’s Rebecca, from the patrol group. I just ran into her husband; she didn’t go home last night, and he hasn’t been able to find her today. They’re putting together a search party.”

part five | series masterlist

#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #the last of us #the last of us hbo #tlou #joel miller fanfic #joel miller fic #joel miller angst #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #my writing #under the night

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interstellarsystem · 2 months

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Little Plural Things

Systems can present in a lot of different ways. Sometimes, being a system can be loud and obvious if you're naturally more overt and/or out about yourselves as plural. Sometimes, it can be quiet and barely noticeable, but still there--just harder to see. Our system is fairly obvious if we're unmasked, but there are still things that escape even our own knowledge when we're masking as hard as we can. Little things that to us, remind us that our system is undeniably real. This is a post about those experiences we've had with barely-noticeable signs of a system.

Not every system will relate to these experiences, some might feel similarly about a few points, some may have others of their own entirely, some might not know or not have anything like the experiences we mention, and that's all part of being plural. No two systems are mirror images of each other. This is a post about our experiences.

1. Handwriting

Recently, we've had it brought to our attention that we have different handwriting. We don't write with a pen/pencil often, but we were asked to fill out a worksheet for our psychologist recently. She told us that whoever in our system wants to contribute to it can, and suggested that we signify who wrote what in some way--to which we chose different pencil colours for different headmates. We took the worksheet home and put things on it depending on who was in the front and if they wanted to.

It turned out, that some of our writing widely differs from each other. Out of the 6 people who wrote on the sheet, most of them were wildly different. Rift and Martin wrote the most tidily, with Rift's writing looking more "proper" and "adult". I (Vince) apparently am not the best at neat writing but I managed to be better than what our "normal" writing is like from what we remember. Merlin wrote messily like he was writing very fast. Mystery wrote with very large letters with sharp angles that overall made it look like it was written by a child new to writing. Which makes absolute sense. It's not a child, but its hands in-headspace are bigger than ours and that was the actual first time it had written anything on paper since it got here.

Somehow, it took until our psychologist pointed it out for us to notice how different it was.

2. Vocabulary Choices

Something we are able to notice sometimes is how our vocabulary and sometimes sentence structure changes based on who is speaking. Some obvious examples are our British headmates substituting "bloody" for other words as an exclamation and the difference between what some of our headmates would call a "chip" or a "fry".

Other times though, it's more subtle. Sometimes there's certain phrases that will just have a word or two swapped out and it does tend to point toward who is fronting even if people do use multiple of these. Some examples are:

"I suppose" vs "I think" vs "I believe"

"Kinda" vs "Kind of" vs "Sort of" vs "Sorta"

"Recently" vs "A bit ago"

"Sleepy" vs "Tired"

"Lol" vs "Haha" vs "Lmao" vs a keysmash (Even though these are text-based they are quite telling.)

"Quite" vs "Very" (Speaking of the above.)

Getting more subtle with them, some other examples are:

"You know" vs "Y'know"

"Uh" vs "Um"

"Uh-Huh" vs "Mhm"

Sometimes typing is influenced too. The amount of em-dahses within the text, the consistency of proper punctuation, how mechanical the text feels, how many run-on sentences there are and even how much tends to be written in one message/post can all point toward different people being in control.

3. Accidental Accents and Inflections

While accents are usually very obvious, we're generally good at masking them. Generally.

Due to us living in Australia, our headmates with accents straight from London don't stick out too bad when they're struggling to mask, but they are still noticeable to those around us who know we're plural. Passerby on the street or people who don't see us often don't think much of it, but certain people we are close to know that a few people in our system find it harder to mask and can tell when they're fronting very easily because of it.

Even if we are masking our accents properly, some parts of the way we speak still come out. Some of us end sentences on a higher-pitch more often due to what our accent generally has us do and some end more on lower-pitch notes when speaking. Some of us put emphasis on certain syllables differently. There's lots of little things that go into language that make it hard to completely mask.

4. Food Choices

More of a noticeable one, but something we tend to brush off as "just a bad batch" when it happens. Some of us like and dislike different foods and drinks, some of us to an extreme degree.

Mystery hates the brand of juice we normally buy and thought that it might've just been past expiry (it was not) or just a bad batch of the juice, but they're consistently the only one who doesn't like it.

Rave likes spicy food much more than the rest of us because they have a harder time tasting it. I on the other hand can't handle spicy food at all and am worse with it than the others in my system.

Some of us favour different brands of food and some of us might like/dislike textures of food differently too.

5. Default Facial Expressions

Different resting facial expressions are something we hardly notice because we don't look in a mirror often due to dysphoria. What we do know though, is that some of us just rest our faces differently.

I look more stern and tired than others. I have a bit of an angrier resting expression.

Martin looks a little bit more anxious due to being an anxiety-holder, but he also looks softer and kinder.

Crowley also looks tired but has less of a stern look and more of an almost blank one.

6. Body Language

This is one we don't know too much about because we can only get knowledge on this from other people, but most of our headmates have a different "vibe" by the way they carry themselves.

I end up seeming to-the-point and business-like.

Martin reads as being very anxious even if he's not always.

Crowley reads as smug.

Mal reads as if he's planning something mischevious and silly.

We've been told that Filigree just reads as "gay".

We're not sure what actions make us seem this way, but some of us can be clocked by others around us as fronting without even talking first. I don't know how people do it, but it's something in our body language.

7. Clothing Choices

A few of us have different clothing choices--Crowley still wears sunglasses everywhere due to light sensitivity and wears dark colours, I prefer to wear button-up shirts as opposed to more casual things, Martin prefers hoodies that are lighter in colour and Merlin prefers to dress in pink and black and more fluffy textures.

We don't have too many clothes overall so to others it does just look like we're cycling through our wardrobe, and sometimes we are, but there's certain styles some of us tend to lean toward more than others.

---

Some of these might seem quite noticeable, and maybe they are if you know we're a system, but people change a lot so once again some of this is much more subtle than it sounds. People who don't know that you're a system hardly ever notice, and if they do they put it to "having an off day" and leave it at that.

We wanted to take some time to appreciate those little things we find it hard to notice, though. And maybe it'll end up helping some other system realise how unique they are as individuals and help fight off the imposter syndrome like these realisations did for us.

#alterhuman #system #didosdd #plural #actually did #actuallyplural #plural system #plurality #endo safe #pro endo #quoigenic #pluralgang #op #vince (he/they)#everything althu #althu experiences #everything plural #plural experiences

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freakadr0id · 2 years

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ROTTMNT Charater Fighting Style Analysis - Part 5: April O'Neil

Oh, would you look at that? It's finally here! After three weeks, multiple rewatches, and several pages of notes and drafts in Word, I've made it to the final individual character* analysis.

This is a continuation of my series of posts analyzing each of the Turtles' (+April's) fighting style, their strengths and weaknesses in a fight, and how Rise uses that to highlight different aspects of their character. I highly encourage you to read the first one (Leo's) before hopping into this one for full context. There is a bit of a TL;DR at the end.

[Part 1: Leo] [Part 2: Raph] [Part 3: Mikey] [Part 4: Donnie]

Last, but ABSOLUTELY not least, is our Girl with the Plan and President of the Dorky Pals for Life Club…

April O'Neil: The Scout/Jack-of-all-Trades:

My analysis for this one might be a bit of a surprise for some, considering a few people have said they already have an idea of how I might categorize her. Going into my analysis, I too thought I had a pretty solid understanding of the way she fought, but by the end, I found that there was so much I missed - I ended up coming to a conclusion that was quite different than what I was expecting.

Fighting Style:

Dynamic and Precise

April is a very strong, energetic, and multifaceted fighter, which allows her to hold her own in battle, even when she's the only human present. She is a primarily offensive fighter with a diverse skill set that she is able to utilize in almost any situation. With her bat, April demonstrates a surprising amount of physical strength as her weapon requires a significant amount of force in order to be truly effective. She also has gymnastic skills that make her a notably agile fighter, giving her an advantage in both speed and maneuverability. She approaches battles with great enthusiasm, amplifying her overall movement and attacks.

In this sense, April's fighting style is rather similar to Mikey's, as they are both quick, nimble fighters that excel offensively while implementing acrobatic movements to deliver quick attacks and make up for a defensive disadvantage. However, she distinguishes herself with a weapon that is very different from Mikey's and by having a larger, more practical set of skills that require unique tactics. Instead of mystic powers, she has a wider range of general skills that end up being incredibly beneficial in battle. She has a fluid fighting style that undergoes the most changes in the show as she learns new techniques from both her allies and enemies and incorporates them into her method of fighting.

Despite the energy she brings into battle, April is surprisingly meticulous in the way she approaches her fights. Instead of running wildly into battle, she is actually quite deliberate in when and how she attacks. April doesn't blindly attack enemies and only goes in for a strike at opportune times, aiming to deliver a few quick, accurate hits that efficiently damage her foe. This gives April the ability to participate and contribute to fights as a human without putting herself at unnecessary risk or becoming a liability.

Strengths and Roles in a Fight:

Jack-of-all-Trades

April is the generalist of the team. While the other members of the family tend to stick to one type of technique or a particular style of fighting, April has knowledge and experience in multiple fighting techniques, skills, and occupations that make her an adaptable fighter. This makes her perfect for "rounding out the team" by providing some extra strength and making up for any weaknesses that may be present in the team. Because of her dynamic fight style and ever-growing list of skills and techniques, April occasionally fights with an amalgamation of the other turtles' roles and fighting styles. April is seen acting as the Wild Card by keeping enemies on their toes with fast movements and nontraditional weapons; a Bruiser/Pummeler (a slugger, if you will) by delivering multiple hits in quick succession with her bat; or even a Striker by going for those accurate, singular attacks. If there's a role that needs to be filled in a fight, odds are April can deliver.

April also has the largest set of practical skills on the team, thanks to the experience she has gained from her numerous (former) jobs. In situations where a very specific set of expertise is needed, April can usually provide that to some degree. This makes her a versatile asset to the team in ways that even Mikey can't be, particularly with battles set in urban or unconventional environments. One of April's greatest strengths as a combatant is her ability to use the environment around her to her advantage - that comes with her dynamic fighting styles. Granted, that applies to all members of her family, but because of the considerable variety of knowledge and experience at her disposal, she has more options when it comes to utilizing her surroundings. Some of her skills are incredibly hyperspecific, however, usually limiting which ones she can use at any given point.

The Scout

April also acts as the team's Scout [No - I'm not just saying this because she happens to have a bat]. She is the one that usually goes ahead of the others before, or at the start of, a battle and gathers information about the enemy and their movements. This typically involves April disguising herself in some way and infiltrating the enemy from within, but there are times when more conventional stealth is needed. She is small and quick enough to sneak past enemies and through different environments, giving her multiple options for her investigations. April also provides information to the team during battles, as she can still apply her "stealth" abilities and use her agility to move around the battlefield quickly and mostly unnoticed.

April's precise fighting style also plays into the Scout role as she can quickly get in and out of fights when needed, which is beneficial both when she is by herself or in a group. A scout needs to be fast, precise, and agile to make up for their lack of defensive capabilities - this fits April's fighting style and abilities to a T. The Scout role plays directly to her strengths as a combatant and decreases her risk of harm as a human in chaotic mutant battles.

Utility:

As a fighter, April is particularly well suited for individual, one-on-one battles. Her primary weapon, a bat, is a generally short-range melee weapon that requires a good amount of accuracy and is limited by its small reach and defensive capabilities. Her fighting style incorporates this by focusing on accurate attacks and accurate timing while utilizing dynamic movements to increase her optimal attack range. When combined with her established proficiency with her bat and adaptive creativity, April becomes a formidable opponent in fights with a small number of opponents. Even without her bat, however, April's ingenuity, agility, and large skill set make her an extraordinarily capable fighter one-on-one.

However, due to her overall lack of mystic powers, limited defensive strength, and the natural restrictions of her weapon, April can struggle in fights with more enemies. Not only is she at greater risk of harm with so many moving parts, but it also doesn't work as well with April's fighting style - she simply doesn't have the range or attacks needed to affect a wider area. That isn't to say she isn't able to handle herself in group fights (she very clearly can), but it just isn't her strong suit.

Some of April's numerous abilities that give her the title of "Jack-of-all-Trades" can be incredibly situational and require a specific set of circumstances and environmental conditions in order to be utilized. While she still has these skills to use to her advantage, not all of them can be used at one time, although at least one of her skills will probably be applicable in any scenario.

How it Plays Into Her Character:

As a member of a family full of mutants and magic, it is only natural for April to want to contribute to the team by participating in fights - but as the only human in a family of mutants, this also means she is left at a bit of a physical disadvantage in comparison to the others. Most people would likely feel a sense of inferiority or weakness in the face of such a disparity, but not April O'Neil. One of April's greatest strengths as a fighter and as a character is her persistence and clever thinking, which is seen in her fighting style. Instead of getting discouraged at her apparent disadvantage to her brothers, April persisted and found ways to use her own natural abilities to her advantage. She may be physically weaker than the turtles, but by implementing a fighting style that relies on precise attacks and her agility, she is less likely to get hurt while still doing a significant amount of damage to the enemy. Her dynamic and precise fighting style embodies April's ability to adapt and persevere even when things are against her.

April's role as a Scout is indicative of April's intelligence while forcing her to dial back on her impulsive tendencies. It is essential for anyone acting as a scout in a battle to be intelligent and clever to be able to acquire information and make observations that are actually useful to the team. April demonstrates her intelligence and quick wit by always assisting the team with the knowledge that is essential to their success, and constantly observing different elements of a battle, even when not formally acting as a scout. The Scout role does, however, expose a potential challenge for April when it comes to impulsive actions. As a whole, I wouldn't say that April is an impulsive character - she is certainly the most level-headed of the bunch - but as the oldest sister to a bunch of teenage boys, it is only natural for some of that to wear off on her from time to time. April is usually pretty tactical about when and how she goes into fights, but there are a few times in the show where she can rush right in if she's especially passionate about something. In order to fully be effective in her fighting style and roles, she has to be sure to not give into those impulses and keep a steady head throughout the fight.

In a Team Fight:

In a coordinated group attack, April is best suited for an initial or follow-up attack. Her speed and agility mean she can get in and out of a fight quickly and her precise fighting style creates a perfect combination to provide a solid initial set of strikes to weaken or disorient an enemy. This doesn't provide much in the way of setting up the next attack, but it could be followed up with an equally quick attack from someone else. Her fighting style also lends itself to a quick follow-up attack and is particularly effective if the opponent is disoriented prior to her attack. April's quick movements and attacks can add to the enemy's confusion and deal significant damage at the same time.

However, April does not do well in a position that requires her to set up for the following attack, nor is she fit to go last in a team attack and deliver a final strike. Since her attack style implements a small number of precise hits to damage an enemy, she does much better at targeting specific weak points on an opponent rather than worrying about how someone else could further add to her attack. Her physical limitations and lack of mystic powers also restrict her ability to deliver the last attack (at least, not by herself). While it doesn't mean she isn't a strong fighter, being the final attacker in a team attack doesn't work well with her physical strengths and the advantages she has with her fighting style.

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[TL;DR: April is a Dynamic and Precise fighter with very fluid and adaptable fighting techniques and a tactical and accurate approach to her attacks. Her large, diverse set of practical skills and flexible fighting methods give her an advantage by acting as a Jack-of-all-Trades. April also operates as the team's Scout by using her intelligence and precise fighting style to gather information and make quick, opportunistic attacks on an enemy. These all demonstrate her tenacity, perseverance, and creativity by presenting it through her adaptive fighting methods and approaches to battle.]

I have a feeling this one may be a bit divisive... I'm pretty happy with what I've come up with here, but it took some serious self-persuasion to get past the titles and categorizations I already established for her in my brain prior to my analysis - and I think that will be the case with a few others. Hopefully I’ve managed to make my case well enough.

Thank you so much for all your support on this little "series." You have no idea how much it means to me to have people actually read these, much less receive such positive responses to them. I'm thrilled that many of you seem to enjoy reading these posts almost as much as I enjoyed making them. DON'T WORRY - THIS IS NOT MY LAST POST FOR THIS SERIES. I have one more kind of "Wrap-up" post planned after this as an overview of their collective team dynamics, miscellaneous thoughts/"corrections", a brief explanation as to what inspired me to dedicate hours of my life writing these silly things, and (if you guys are interested) a small breakdown of my thought process and approach towards my analyses. I don't have a fully planned time to release that, but know it will be coming at some point in the near future.

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historical-fashion-polls · 16 days

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another follower celebration?

hello my loves! 💕

I come to you with both good and bad news today

bad news first: we have just over 10 flower children polls left, at which time they shall all return to the gardens and fields from whence they came to continue bringing joy and whimsy to all those they meet

good news: in the meantime, we have hit 2k (!!!! 🤯🤯) and I would love to do another celebration for you all to say thank you!!

my plan is as follows: I've had a number of requests to do earlier fashion periods, and for a lot of reasons, I have limited myself to primarily commercial fashion plates/fashion illustrations (more on that here) and thus the images that I personally source for the blog don't go much further back than the mid-1700s (more on that here). HOWEVER, for our 2k celebration, I will be temporarily lifting some of those restrictions and expanding the time period of the blog!! 🥰🥰

two caveats:

sourcing these types of images takes more time and effort, so I will not be able to keep this up indefinitely (esp since I'm starting my phd program in the fall), but as I get things sorted for the celebration I'll let y'all know how long I'll be personally sourcing images from a more expansive time period and a broader range of sources

you are always welcome to submit images from earlier periods!! I just have to be realistic about what I can personally do in terms of research and sourcing for the blog, but if you have older images you want to see featured, you can send them in at any time!! (all info on submitting images can be found in my pinned post! ☺️)

but now onto what I'm best at: a poll!! I'd like to know what you all would most like to see and what areas I should focus on, so if you have thoughts, please vote in the poll below and let me know! also, some of these responses are vast ranges of time, so if you have a specific year/decade/century within one of the options, please do let me know via tags, comments, asks, etc. 🥰 also I cannot promise that I will be able to find usable images for all of these periods – I mostly want to gauge interest before I go looking for potential images to use ☺️

and yes I did use art historical classifications, please don't judge me it's what makes most sense to my brain 😅🫣

if there is a lot of interest in a specific time period, I'll likely run some more specific polls to narrow in on some key moments of interest, but please do let me know any specific things you might like to see! ☺️

#the curator speaks #curatorial updates #very historical historical fashion polls

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uramilf · 10 months

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Dangerous Game - Matty Healy x reader smut

A/N: Guys this is FILTHY. Like the most unhinged deranged smut I’ve written so far, fair warning. It’s set around Christmas 2022 as it mentions the guests at the UK atvb tour, just for context xx

Warnings: SMUT. Cheating (yes cheating is wrong but it’s just a story, if you don’t like it don’t read it please!) Some BDSM, cockwarming, light anal AH SOZ, spanking, oral (f&m receiving), unprotected sex, spitting, biting etc, degredation, dom!Matty

Stepping out of the lift, I straightened my skirt and checked my hair in the reflection of the shiny metal doors as they closed. I was playing a dangerous game with the short skirt and tight blouse, but I couldn’t help but feel a sense of pride on catching a glimpse of myself. A few months into working at Dirty Hit as Matty’s assistant, and I still tried my hardest to look nice when I knew I would be with him. I knew it was wrong. Every morning I left my own boyfriend in our shared bed after he told me how beautiful I looked. He looked prefect on paper apart from the fact that he wasn’t Matty, and that I often wondered during sex if Matty would do a better job. Sometimes I wanted to tell him exactly who I was trying to look beautiful for, so that I would be free to do whatever I wanted with my gorgeous co-worker. But even then, I wouldn’t be able to make a move on him. He had a girlfriend too, Ella. And she was perfect, a literal model. He wouldn’t even look twice at me.

I walked into the Matty and George’s small shared office. I loved George, but I was glad he was taking the day off for once. Matty looked up from his laptop when I entered. “Morning, love. You look pretty.” “Thanks,” I laughed, sitting down opposite him, trying not to let my face turn red or allow him to see how thrilled I was. “Busy day today?” “Not hugely. Still a few things to sort out for tour, but y’know, I’m getting there,” “That’s good,” I nodded, opening my own laptop. It was never awkward with him, but there was a certain tension in the air every time we were alone. It was as if he could tell that I was actively trying to act appropriately around him, and maybe like he was doing the exact same thing.

We worked quietly for 20 minutes, and as I was checking the guestlists for each show I noticed that his girlfriend’s name was missing. “Hey, Ella’s not on the guestlist for the first London show. Should I put her on?” Matty looked up abruptly, jaw clenching slightly at the mention of her name. Had something happened between them? He relaxed his face and his eyes softened when he saw my worry. “Um, no thanks love. She’ll be out of the city for a few days. Visiting family.” I saved the document and shut the laptop, standing up from my desk. “I’m gonna go get a coffee, you coming?” “Sure, babe. Two minutes.” BABE? What the fuck was he trying to do to me? I didn’t know how long I could stay around Matty without accidentally telling him exactly how I felt about him. A feeling of guilt overcame me and I shook all thoughts of Matty from my head.

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On the way back from our coffee run, Matty and I stood quietly together waiting for the lift. When we had been walking back from the Starbucks down the street, our hands had brushed each other multiple times and it was all I could do to not kiss him right then and there. The lift doors opened, and we stepped in. I opened my mouth to speak but Matty didn’t give me the chance. He grabbed my waist and pushed me against the wall, staring straight down into my eyes. “Fuck this,” he almost spat at me. “I can’t do this anymore. I can’t pretend there’s nothing going on with us anymore.” I felt as though my throat was closing over. “Matty,” I said in a voice which was barely a whisper. His eyes softened. “Matty, I have a boyfriend. You have a girlfriend.” His jaw tensed again. “She left me. She left because she could see how badly I wanted you. And as for your boyfriend, are you seriously saying you’d rather have him than me?” I raised an eyebrow. “What? You know I’m right. He’s too boring for you. And he doesn’t look at you the way I do. Shit, can he even make you cum?”

The lift doors opened and he sprung away from me, leaving me with wide eyes and red cheeks. Jamie got in the lift as we got out, and I prayed he hadn’t seen anything. “Morning, you two. Y/n, have you had a chance to look over those guest lists?” “Yep, all done,” I managed to say, voice breaking under the pressure of nearly being caught with Matty’s hands on my waist and lips a fraction of an inch from mine. The second we made it back to the office I turned and locked the door. “You’re right,” I blurted out. He looked at me with raised eyebrows. “Yeah?” he smirked, approaching me like an animal stalking its prey. I felt small, but safe, around him; like I knew he could absolutely ruin my life, but chose not to. Like he could turn around now and tell me he was joking, and that he didn’t really want me. But he didn’t. Instead he shoved me back against the wall, the cold surface touching my bare thighs and making me shiver. “Right about what, exactly?” “He can’t make me cum,” I whispered, not looking him in the eye. “Right.” Matty lifted my chin and forced me to look into his eyes, “And why is that, I wonder?”

“Because he’s not you.”

Matty kissed me then; hard, rough, needy. His hips rolled into mine as his tongue slipped into my open mouth, brushing against my own. I moaned into his mouth and he grabbed at my waist eagerly. One of my hands tangled in his hair, the other feeling desperately up and down his bicep, which seemed to have grown a lot recently. Shit, all that working out was doing wonders for him. Matty’s hips bumped into me again and he groaned. I could feel him getting hard in his black trousers and a wave of heat rushed through me. Just as the kiss was deepening, his phone rang. He pulled away, fumbling in his pocket and rolling his eyes. “Hello?” he snapped. “Oh, hi mate. Sure. Yep. I’ll be there in a second.” “Everything okay?” I said, trying to catch my breath. “Adam’s outside. Says he’s got some paperwork or something I need to look over before tour. I’m gonna run down and grab it, okay babe?”

When he left, I checked my phone and sighed. My boyfriend had texted: Miss you baby. When u coming home? I texted back: Miss you too, not sure yet, pretty busy here x I still felt a little guilty, but slightly less so after feeling Matty so close to me like that. After a few minutes of me trying to calm myself after our encounter, Matty walked back through the door. I draped my arm around his neck and kissed him again, but he pulled away after a few seconds. “Hey gorgeous, can we finish this later, yeah? I have so much fucking work to get through here.” “Oh. Yeah, sure.” “Sorry, babe. You know I want you, like, right now. But Adam’s shitting himself about getting this all done. In the meantime can you get Taylor, Lewis and Charli’s teams on the phone and go over the details for the UK shows, please?” “Of course,” I said, swallowing the lump in my throat. Back to being an assistant. Maybe he didn’t want me that badly after all.

I was wrong. 20 minutes into my phone calls with various celebrities’ teams and managers, Matty sighed and looked up at me. “Fuck, babe. I can’t work when you’re sat there looking like that. C’mere.” I stood up and walked to his desk, sitting down on the edge. “What’s wrong?” I smiled teasingly. Matty laughed and gestured to the obvious bulge in his trousers. “But you have so much work to do!” I feigned shock and Matty rolled his eyes. “I know that was a dig at me, but you’re actually right. It’s ok, I think we can do both.” I raised an eyebrow as he unbuckled his belt and tugged his trousers and boxers down. That shut me up. He was huge, dripping precum, a thick vein running up the side of his cock from base to tip. “Sit,” he commanded. I wasted no time in doing what I was told, straddling his lap and grinding down on him, my clothed core rubbing against his cock. He let out a deep groan from the back of his throat. “Darling, if you want me all to yourself tonight, you need to let me get my work done. Sit.” This time I lifted my hips and positioned myself right over his cock, pulling my thong to the side and sinking down onto him. We groaned out in sync as a wave of pleasure washed over us both. I mentally begged him to move, to do something. But I knew he wouldn’t. I sat there whining into his ear and clenching around him for a further ten minutes. I tried to sneak my hand down to touch my clit but he grabbed my wrist and threw it back over his shoulder. “Behave,” he smirked, not looking up from his computer.

Finally, Matty finished what he was doing and looked up at me, still perched on his lap, trying not to grind my hips downwards. “The rest of this can wait until tomorrow. It’s time you got some attention, yeah baby?” He moved his laptop, notebooks and papers to the side and lifted me by the waist onto the desk, pushing my shoulders so I ended up flat on my back with my legs spread, him now standing between them. I whined at the empty feeling and Matty shushed me gently before pushing into me again. He threw his head back as he thrusted into me. I wasn’t used to the stretch required for me to fit around his cock, and it felt perfect. The sound of our combined moans and his skin hitting mine filled the room, but neither of us cared to stay quiet. Matty pulled out of me again and I could have screamed in frustration, but he didn’t give me time to complain.

“Hands and knees,” he commanded, and I obeyed. He groaned when I pushed my ass towards him and placed a firm smack there, making me giggle with giddy anticipation. Instead of fucking me again, Matty sat down in his chair so his face was level with my cunt and leaned forward to lick a stripe straight up my core. “Shit! Oh, Matty, please!” His tongue teased at my entrance, flicking back and forth, his rough, calloused hand sneaking around to find my clit and rub light circles over it. “Does he ever do this to you, baby?” “Yes,” I gasped. “But it doesn’t feel as good as this.” Matty’s tongue ventured further away from my cunt and I gasped. “Matty, wait. No one’s ever done that to me before.” “Ssh, baby. You’ll like it.” With that he flicked his wet tongue over my asshole, making me scream out. “Oh fuck!” He did it again, and again, building up speed into a proper rhythm. The thought of letting a guy ever do this to me had never even crossed my mind, but holy fuck, it felt good. As he continued to kitten lick over my hole, he thrusted two fingers into my wet cunt and I could feel myself tipping over the edge at last. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” I cried out, nails digging into the cold wood of the desk, clenching around Matty’s fingers. My vision was overcome with a bright white heat as I came on Matty’s hand, screaming his name. He pulled his fingers out of me and I saw him flick his tongue over them, closing his eyes in bliss. “Fuck, you taste good.” He placed his thumb on my lip and whispered “open,” before spitting into my mouth. “Don’t you think you taste good, love?” I swallowed and nodded quietly, eyes never leaving his.

Matty gave me some time to recover, but I noticed he was still hard. He was the first guy to give me an orgasm in six months, as my boyfriend was seriously lacking in experience and confidence. I wasn’t gonna let the favour not be returned. I pulled my skirt back down to cover my thighs and dropped to my knees in front of Matty. He was in the midst of pulling his boxers back up over his hard-on, but I stopped him. “Fuck, babe. You’re so desperate for me you should be ashamed of yourself,” Matty smirked down at me. I just rolled my eyes and licked his tip, relishing the sound he made. I tested the waters, taking his tip fully into my mouth and sucking. I could taste his salty precum and moaned around his cock, making him echo the sound. Slowly taking more of him into my mouth, I looked up at him through my eyelashes to see his head tipped back, eyes shut in ecstasy. His hands found their way to my hair and grabbed a fistful each, forcing me down further. He hit the back of my throat and I gagged a little. A groan of “Good fucking girl” made its way to my ears. He guided my head up and down, fucking roughly into my mouth. “Fuck, I’m so close,” he stuttered, his cock twitching in my mouth. He spilled his cum onto my tongue with a loud moan of my name and I pulled away, swallowing while staring straight into his eyes. “C’mere,” he breathed heavily, pulling me up to stand close to him. He grabbed me by the hips and kissed me hard.

“You’re actually incredible, you know that, right?” Matty asked softly, brushing my hair behind my ear. I didn’t look at him, just smiling. “Have you never been told that before?” “Not really, no.” “Well you deserve someone who’s gonna tell you that every day of your fucking life, darling.” “Someone like you?” I grinned. “Exactly,” he smiled back.

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I hadn’t gone back to Matty’s house. It seemed too obvious. Instead I headed home and changed into a tight dress and put some makeup on, some stupid excuse about meeting up with work friends for a drink spilling out of my mouth. It wasn’t entirely a lie.

Matty had opened his front door and pulled me inside before I even had a chance to knock, lips meeting mine immediately. He was still in his work clothes. Not for long, I decided. He dragged me upstairs into his bedroom, shoving me down on the bed and yanking off his shirt and tie. I almost let out a moan at the sight of his toned stomach and muscular, tattooed arms. He slipped my feet out out my shoes and kissed all the way from my ankle to my thigh, pulling my dress, stepping back in feigned shock when he saw my lack of underwear. “Someone’s being a bit cheeky tonight,” he whispered. “It gets worse, no bra either,” I joked. “Fuck!” Matty exclaimed, reaching down to pull my dress straight over my head. He stood there with his mouth open for a moment or two at the sight of my tits moving with my deep breaths. “Jesus Christ,” he muttered, grabbing my thighs and spreading my legs. He knelt on the bed between them and dropped down to take one of my nipples into his mouth, one hand trailing down my stomach towards my clit. He continued to suck on the skin of my breast and circle my clit with his thumb as I moaned out his name. “Fuck darling, you make the prettiest noises.” Matty moved up to my neck to place a messy kiss there, and I cried out when he sunk his teeth into my skin. He stood up to undo his belt, but kept his trousers on. I raised an eyebrow. “Pretty girl, I think it’s time you got a little punishment for all the times you’ve given me a fucking boner in work this week.” My eyes widened in shock. “Four times this week, babe. It’s only Wednesday.” He reached for his tie from the floor and told me to get in the same all-fours position I had been in earlier. This time, he grabbed my wrists and tied them together behind my back, forcing my head down into the mattress. “Okay, pretty girl. You’ve got me all worked up four times this week, and I’m starting to think you’re doing it on purpose. So I want you to count your punishments, okay?” I nodded, letting out an excited whimper. I heard the belt buckle clink and clenched my cunt around nothing. A sharp sting landed on my ass and I yelped. “Count.” “One,” I breathed. Another. “Two.” Another. “Three.” “One more, babe, You’re doing well.” He brought the thick leather down on my soft skin once more, the sensation burning pleasurably. “Four.” “Good girl.”

Matty grabbed my tied wrists and pulled me up so my face was no longer in the sheets. “Are you gonna take my cock again like a good little slut?” I just whined in response. “Words,” he grunted. “Or do I need to remind you what your punishment is?” “Yes, Matty. I’ll be good for you,” I whimpered. He let go of my wrists, my upper half dropping back onto the mattress. Without warning, he pushed into me hard and established a fast, steady rhythm. I cried out as he found my g-spot effortlessly. “Fuck Matty!” This only encouraged him, and he thrusted deeper, harder, all the while groaning my name. He alternated between grabbing handfuls of my ass and placing firm slaps there. Each time he hit me I clenched hard around him, ripping a moan from his throat.

After around ten minutes of hard, rough, rhythmic thrusting, Matty grabbed a handful of my hair and pulled out of me, cumming all over my back. “Fuck, love. How are we ever gonna share an office again without me getting a boner?” I laughed at him while he untied my wrists, wincing when his hand brushed the sore skin of my ass. “Oh, darling, I’m sorry if I hurt you. I know I can go overboard sometimes.” “Are you seriously apologising for the best sex of my life right now?” Matty grinned at this. “Are you joking?” “Absolutely not. You’ve met my partner, you know he’s not doing any of that.” I glanced at the clock. “Oh shit! He’s gonna be wondering where I am.” “Text him and say Charli drank too much and you’re staying with her to look after her. I’m not letting you go home by yourself at this time of night. Plus, I need to take care of my pretty girl.”

After I had made my excuses to my boyfriend, Matty cleaned me up in the bathroom and carried me back to his bed, tucking me in under the sheets and curling up beside me, his head on my chest. I had a hand in his hair and one of his was exploring the skin of my stomach underneath my borrowed t-shirt.

“Get some sleep, love,” Matty yawned. “You’re gonna be sore tomorrow.”

#matty x reader #matty healy x reader #matty healy smut #matty healy imagines #matty healy #matty the 1975 #the 1975 #the 1975 smut #george daniel #adam hann #ross macdonald #smut

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