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#not ‘short’ just smaller and closer in height
fairy-hub · 7 months
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𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢; 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐨
𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: shy!touch starved!reader, toji is playfully mean, one pussy slap, pinching your nipple one, teasing/mocking/praise/degradation, groping, fingering, touch starved!reader cums quickly, fingering/stroking your clit, embarrassment, size kink, daddy/mama/sweetheart, begging/confessions
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐧: toji putting you on his lap and rubbing *so close* to your cunt and its turning them on
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Squeezing your thighs, swiping his thumbs close to your clothed cunt. Squirming on Toji’s hair cock, biting your bottom lip. “Please!” Wishing he would touch your needy cunt.
His thumbs get little closer, grazing the edge of your underwear. “What is it lil mama? You won’t stop squirming.” Sliding his hands out from underneath your skirt. Rubbing yours sides, squeezing gently.
You sound pitiful. “I want you to touch me.” He grabs your hips, keeping you from grinding your clothed cunt on his hard cock. Pressing your thighs together, it’s not enough.
You need Toji between your legs more than the air in your lungs.
Toji drags his large, warm hand over your soft stomach, up towards your breasts. Rubbing your soft nipple through your shirt. You can feel it in your clit as soft tingles.
Toji croons, “What’s wrong with how I’m touch ya already?” His voice is perfectly deep, smooth, comforting and cunt soaking. Gliding his other hand down the curve of your hip. It feels so good to sit in Toji’s lap, your head on his chest, his large hands groping your soft body.
“I need,” closing your eyes, your cheeks burning, “I need you to touch my between my legs.” He slips his large hand underneath your skirt. Gently squeezing your thigh close, his fingers close to your cunt.
Gently grabbing your chin, tilting your head back lap you can look into his beautiful, hungry green eyes. “How’s this? Look me in the eyes and tell me.” You feel so short in his lap, with his height causing him to tower over you even when sitting down.
Toji’s wide, muscular chest, broad shoulders, thick, hard thighs, and large, almost rough hands. All of it making you feel so much weaker, smaller and vulnerable in his lap. It would be perfect if he had his fat cock in you.
“Not enough, want you to touch my…” Your body is burning, it’s too much holding his intense gaze pleading with him, “ Touch my cunt, I want you inside me, need to feel you.” Squirming rocking your hips back, pathetically of grinding your clothed on his hard cock.
He croons, “Aw my poor lil mama needs me to touch her needy cunt? Needs me to stuff her full and help her cum? Thought we were just cuddlin’ today.” Lightly grazing your soft cunt through your soaking underwear.
You’re so wound up the lightest touch to clit has you moaning, spreading your legs wider for Toji. “Please! Take my panties off!” He slaps your cunt, crying from the sweet stinging pain.
“Nn how could that feel good?!” He strokes your clit and you can’t finish speaking. You’re too touch starved and sensitive. You need more, the clothing between infuriating.
Toji stops, his finger on your clit. “Please what? Use your manners for me sweetheart. I know I’ve taught you better than this.” The scar on his lips making his cocky smirk hotter.
Toji knows how badly you want to be his whore.
Rocking your hips, rubbing your clit on his finger desperate for stimulation. “Please daddy! Daddy please! Please! Please daddy!!! Take my clothes stuff and stuff me full of your fingers, fuck me till I cum, stuff me with your cock and fill me with your warm cum!” He slips his hand out from under your skirt, grabs your hips and sets you on your feet.
Tugging your skirt down with your underwear, slapping your ass roughly. Your wet cunt clenches from the sweet stinging. Turning you around, “Was that so hard? Daddy isn’t a mind reader, need ya to help me out, tell me what you want.” Looking away, he stops, glancing back into his beautiful green eyes.
“My lil mama is such a pathetic slut, if you could see yourself whining, grinding on my lap and begging me attention.” Sliding your underwear to the side, curling a finger inside you. “Can’t help but wanna get your cunt stuffed when ya see me. Is that all you want from me?” Pumping his thick finger faster, rubbing your sensitive clit.
Your cheeks burning as you stare up at Toji. “No! I wanna be your’s, wanna call you mine. Hold you close, cover you in kisses, spend time with you and hear your sleepy voice in the morning. Welcome you home, help you relax, take care of you.” Grabbing his large shoulder, digging in your nails. Your legs trembling, knees buckling in.
His thick fingers stroking your sweet spot in time with his quick stroke of your soft clit is perfectly too much. “Aw that’s so fuckin hot, my lil mama is down that badly for me?” Thick slick is trickle down your thighs, Toji slips in a second finger.
“Fuck guess that answer that, look at ya, I just started n’ your cummin’ so quickly from your clit getting stroked and a finger stuffed in your beautiful, tight sloppy wet cunt.” Pushing your shirt up, leaning down sucking on your soft nipple, flicking his tongue.
You grab your shirt, slipping it off throwing it aside. He grabs a handful of your ass, fucking your squelching cunt faster. Mercilessly rubbing your clit.
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sleeepy-sim · 8 months
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✮ His Apartment ✮
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smut, fingering, oral (r), female reader
König couldn't help but stop and stare. Last night koing had finally convinced you to stay the night over at his apartment, and that even when you just wake up you're still as beautiful, if not even more in his opinion. 
So when you walk into his kitchen searching for coffee or tea, whichever you can get your hands on. Wearing his shirt and from what he can tell no underwear nor a bra, he couldn't help but stop and stare at you. Taking a sip of his coffee he stands up to his full height of 6'10. He walks over to your figure, softly taking your much smaller hand in his to keep you from rubbing your eye even harder. 
He leans down, resting his head in your neck, taking in your natural scent. "Engel," His hot breath hitting your bare neck and your shoulder from the size of the shirt it was sliding off of your shoulder. His rough hands grip the shirt, slowly pulling it up, moving his head away from your neck. He rubs his nose against yours, hands still slowly lifting the shirt you were wearing up. He kisses your lips, you try and move your lips away from him to get a word in. His teeth biting down on your bottom lip make you wince, his tongue runs over where he bit you, almost as apologizing. 
"You're lucky I brushed my teeth before coming in here, mister." You playfully stick your tongue out, booping his nose with it. His hands had not left the shirt in fact he had managed to lift it up just under your boobs. His eyes haven't left yours, he drops the shirt. Shoving his hands underneath the shirt, grabbing both of your boobs, digging his nails into them before leaning down and kissing you. 
"I guess I am." He pulls away from you, walking over to his now untouched coffee. Taking a sip with his back turned to you. You walk over to him, wrapping your arms around his waist, fingers meeting and interlocking. Resting your head on his back, letting out a sigh. Turning around he picks you up, setting you on the counter, just next to his coffee. 
Shoving his head into your neck, peppering kisses from your throat to your lips. His hands grab your thighs, putting them on his waist. Pulling you towards him, almost off of the counter his tongue swipes yours before his hand comes up and grabs your hair. Pulling you back by your hair, your head tilts just perfect for him to shove his tongue down your throat. 
Moaning into his mouth, your hands running through his short hair, pulling him even closer. Legs tightening around his waist, your hips buck up, sliding his shirt up and showing his abs. He slides you off the counter, walking back into his room. Setting you on the bed, he pulls his shirt up as you slide farther up the bed, backing resting on the headboard watching him strip. 
After taking his shirt off he yanks his gray sweatpants down, his dick hangs low and outwards from how heavy. Its veins pulsate as you look at it, looking back up at him. His smirk and eyes already seem to know what you're thinking about. Crawling up the bed he grabs your ankles, yanking you towards him. His hands swiftly remove his shirt from your body, throwing it to the side. 
He pushes your legs apart, taking his fingers and spreading your pussy lips. Watching as they glisten from how wet you are. His pointer finger rubs at your nub making your hips buck, needing more. He doesn't give you more, instead his finger trails down to your hole, pushing just the tip of his finger in before trailing it back to your now aching nub. 
"Please, König" Your eyes look down at him pleading. He slowly slide his finger into your pussy, leaning closer to your pussy his tongue taps on your clit, before lapping on it. Thrusting his finger in and out of you he has his middle finger join, making you moan even louder. His thick fingers making your pussy so wet. The loud sounds of your pussy only seems to make his actions even faster.
Removing his fingers, his hands grabs your hips bringing your pussy to his mouth. His tongue shoves it way into your pussy, rubbing on every inch, every crease he can find. He can't help but to groan into your pussy, it just taste so sweet, so good, so you.
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helen-with-an-a · 2 months
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Short but Mighty
Hi. So this is a request I got and I absolutely loved writing it. It's a little on the long side but I really hope you enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it. Also, just imagine no one is injured in either team and it’s Arsenal not Chelsea against Barca in the UWCL this year. Another side note is that I am 5’6/5’7 so I don’t really have much of a frame of reference for being short/shorter but I hope I’ve done it justice 🩷
Lucy Bronze x Reader
Description: R is short and a little angry
Word Count: 4.8k
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“She’s so angry because her attitude has been compressed into that small body”
“Have you ever noticed that in every friend group, the shortest one is usually the craziest?”
“Short girls are mean because they are closer to hell”
“If you think she’s short, you should see her patience”
“The smaller the creature, the bolder its spirit”
“Like a chihuahua”
“And though she be but little, she is fierce”
You had heard it all. Even Shakespeare had commented on it. Every comment about short and angry people ever made – you had heard it all. But the thing was, you weren’t short. You were 5 foot 3 inches. 160cm. The average height for women in the UK – you would know; you googled it to make sure. But for some reason, every person on your team was a bloody giant – towering over you, making you look even shorter. Except for Aitana – she was the only one who truly understood your pain.
At first, it bothered you. Growing up, you were constantly being leant on by your friends or patted on the head; your coaches affectionately called you ‘short stuff’. It really, really pissed you off. You saw players on the field consider you a joke of an opponent as you stepped onto the field. So, you started to build muscle, lifting heavier, adjusting your diet, and altering your lifestyle as much as possible while remaining healthy. When you made your senior debut at just 17, you could lift well over 1.5 of your body weight. You also channelled that muscle into your speed, earning a reputation for being the fastest on the pitch. On paper, a defending midfielder of your height was laughable, but when the challengers on the pitch saw your name in the Starting XI, they would quake with fear.
Despite all the comments, they were right about your supposed anger. You don’t know whether it was you being unafraid to utilise your body on the pitch or something else entirely, but you were frequently topping the table with the number of yellow cards at the end of the season. Personally, you believed the refs had a vendetta against you; your reputation preceded you, so they felt it was necessary to uphold it – often giving you cards for something that would have been just a caution for anything else. You did pride yourself on never receiving a straight red (only double-yellows) – something that Lucy frequently reminded you; it wasn’t that impressive as many people didn’t receive straight reds. You weren’t an aggressive player by any means. As soon as that whistle went, you were the first to offer a helping hand. You had never injured anyone – ever. That was something else you were proud of. Whilst you often got yellows for the tackle, you never left any lasting marks. Were you physical? Yes. Were you aggressive? No.
It was the only thing people had spoken about in weeks. Arsenal vs. Barcelona in the Champions League semi-final. Walsh vs. Williamson; Russo, Lacasse and Blackstenius vs. Leon, Bronze and Batlle; Little vs. Putellas; Codina vs her old club; Paralluelo, Pina and Caldentey vs Wubben-Moy, Catley and Fox; Y/S/N vs. McCabe. That was the big one – two of the most carded players in their leagues battling it out for a chance to snatch the other’s chance of a Champions League title. Alexia had been pestering you since the draw was made about your behaviour. She wouldn’t hesitate to bench you if you were acting out. Her tactics were based on negative reinforcement. It hadn’t worked – all her threats, lectures, and pressures were rendered null because you knew how physical these matches would be. You knew Jona would put on the most physical players, at least to start with.
Lucy, on the other hand, relied on positive reinforcement. As your girlfriend, she was always in your corner, especially on the pitch when a card was lifted above your head. But she didn’t like how often you were suspended or how often your abilities were outshone by the number of yellows next to your name. Your technical prowess was often overlooked by commentators and fans because of the cards.
“You know,” Lucy started, her fingertips brushing your neck as she pulled your hair out of her way. You were standing at the kitchen counter, looking at a recipe on your phone as you planned out your tea.
“What do I know, gorgeous?” you teased, tilting your head up to look at her. Your hands came to rest on top of hers on your waist.
“I think we should set up a sticker chart system or something. What do you think?” She mused, starting an assault on your neck.
“N-no marks, my love,” you stuttered out automatically but leaning back into her body anyway.
“I know.” You could feel the grin against your skin. “But you didn’t answer my question, lovely.” She nipped at your earlobe gently.
“Stickers … what for?” You turned around in her arms, coming to look at her. She didn’t stop her attack, her strong hands coming to angle your head so she had more access to your jaw. You let your eyes slip closed, getting lost in the feeling of her mouth on you.
“As a way to … combat?... your little card problem.” That sobered you right up. You pushed her way and raised an unamused eyebrow at her.
“My card problem?” You snarked.
“Alexia has been on my arse about getting you to … calm down … during matches,” she explained, choosing her words carefully. She moved to put her hands back on your hips, but you stopped her with a hand on her chest.
“So, you went with a sticker chart?” you asked incredulously. “I’m not a child, Lucy.” You never called her Lucy unless you were angry at her; she was always ‘gorgeous’ or ‘my love’, just like you were always ‘lovely’ or ‘pretty girl’ to her.
“I know you’re not, pretty girl.” She cupped your face with her hand. “I think I phrased myself badly. I’m sorry.” Her thumb moved methodically against your cheek, an action that has always calmed you. “How about a little reward system?” She grinned cheekily at you as you narrowed your eyes. “For every match without a card, I’ll treat you?” She proposed.
“I don’t need a-” you started, still annoyed that your girlfriend and your captain felt it necessary to set up a system to manage your behaviour.
“Alexia has been on my arse about this for weeks. She’s serious about benching you, lovely.” She interrupted. You sighed. You were well aware of what Alexia considered unacceptable in the Barca team – and the number of yellow cards you received was one of them. “So, what do you think? I think it’s a win-win situation if you ask me. Alexia will finally back off and not be a minute away from a heart attack, and you get …” she paused, thinking of the right way to phrase it. “Whatever your heart desires.” You could see her reasoning. Judging by the vein in Alexia’s forehead, she wasn’t coping too well with the idea that you would face McCabe in a few weeks. And you get weekly treats if you avoid yellow cards.
“Whatever I want?” You double-checked. Lucy could see you were already agreeing to her idea.
“Whatever. You. Want. Pretty girl.” She punctuated each word with a kiss.
“So, if I wanted a fancy date night at that place in town?” Lucy wasn’t the biggest fan of dates where you had to dress up all fancy – she thought it wasn’t an accurate and complete representation of your relationship. She loved taking you to smaller, more casual restaurants where you could relax, order something to-go, or just cook a nicer meal at home. But Mapi had shown you a place she was planning to take Ingrid for their anniversary, and you had fallen in love – begging Lucy to go on a date there with you. What you didn’t know she was saving it for when she proposed – the ring hidden with her Euro medal buried in the depths of the cupboard in your spare room.
“Whatever you want.” She smiled at your shocked expression.
“Or if I wanted a spa day at home on our day off?” you asked, checking how far she would be willing to go. She would much rather do something on your day off to keep her body moving a little, whereas you would rather lounge on the couch, catching up on your show.
“Whatever you want.” She repeated, leaning down to kiss the corner of your mouth.
“Or…” you tried to think of something she would say no to. “If I asked you to put on my old United jersey? And take a photo in it? And post it on social media?” Your request was ridiculous, but you knew it was something she would never, ever say no to. You had played for United while she was at City, moving to Lyon together, where your relationship had budded into what it is now, before returning to your respective clubs. You were friends before Lyon, having played with each other on the England squad for years, but moving to the new city together had led to something magical. The rival was a constant joke between you, often tuning in to the Derby’s when your schedule allowed for it – her and Keira on one couch, you and Ona on the other – all clad in your particular colours and fighting for the right to brag.
“Whatever you want.” She sighed but loved the fact that it brought that big, wide grin of yours to your face.
“What about if I asked for control?” You wiggled your eyebrow and scanned her body appreciatively, indicating precisely what you hinted at. You could see her eyes flicker slightly, making you think you had found the thing she wouldn’t do as your reward. Lucy loved being in control, and you didn’t mind letting her do it. But occasionally, very, very occasionally, she handed over the ropes (figuratively and literally) to you.
“What. Ever. You. Want,” she said lowly, silencing any more of your questions with a passionate kiss.
This was it. The big day. The first leg of the Champions League semi-final. Arsenal vs. Barcelona. McCabe vs. Y/S/N. You had been good to your word – the reward system was working well. So far, Lucy had treated you to a day at the beach, a nice meal, a new set of lingerie, and a day trip with you to Tarragona on a day off. Four treats for your four matches without a yellow. It would have been more, but you picked up a yellow card during your match with Real Madrid. But this … this was your big test.
“Todas mantienen la cabeza,” Alexia said just before you all left the changing rooms. She said it to everyone, but you know it was aimed at you.
“What do you want your reward to be, pretty girl?” Lucy asked you as you performed your final pre-match ritual (a quick roll of deodorant, a pump of breath spray, and a spritz of perfume—you’re welcome, everyone on the field).
“Not sure, I’ve got an idea, but I might wait for the final for that one,” you winked cheekily at her, giving her an indication of what you were insinuating. She sighed, shaking her head at you.
“Later,” she promised as she guided you into the tunnel.
This match was not going to plan for you. Ona and Pina had already picked up yellows for dissent, and you were only 30 minutes into the match. You were on your best behaviour – even going so far as not to tackle Katie when you would usually have. You could see how much less stress Lucy was under with every game you played where you didn’t have your name on the card list. You weren’t behaving for yourself – you couldn’t care less if you were benched (slight exaggeration, but the sentiment remained). You were doing it for Lucy; her frown lines were easing somewhat; her muscles were less tense; she was sleeping much better. You hadn’t realised your actions added much to her plate.
And then Katie left a studs-up tackle on Lucy and didn’t get carded or even a foul. You were near her when it happened. Lucy was running down the wing with the ball at her feet, you were dropping back a little, allowing her the space to make a cross to an awaiting Patri and Aitana. Katie’s yellow boots appeared from nowhere and clipped her ankles – not even making an attempt to get the ball. It was an obvious card, yet the ref motioned to carry on whilst Lucy was on her knees, clutching at her ankle, her eyes scrunched shut at the pain.
Eventually, the whistle was blown when it was apparent that Lucy wasn’t standing up. You crouched at her side, a hand coming to rub at her back.
“Do you need the medics, my love?” You asked, the tone gentle in comparison to the fury you were filled with.
“Just … gimme a minute,” she gasped. You nodded even though she couldn’t see you, your hand resting on her lower back in silent support.
“Estás bien? Está ella bien? Necesitamos a los fisios?” Alexia gushed as she came to your side, a concerned Patri and Marta joining her.
“Ella esta bien,” you said, your words supported by Lucy’s actions as she moved to stand up. You briefly scanned her, nodding to yourself as you confirmed she was fine.
The switch in you was instant. McCabe needed to pay for that. And if the ref wasn’t going to do it, you would.
“Don’t,” Lucy said at the same time as Alexia uttered “no”. You just waved them off, smiling innocently at them as you set up for the corner kick.
The incident that got you the card was well deserved. You had only 2 minutes left of the half – not including injury time – and Katie was starting a last-minute Arsenal press. You were winning comfortably at 3 – 0, but you knew Arsenal would come out hard in the next half; they weren’t called ‘second halfsenal’ for nothing. Could you have gone for a clean tackle? Probably. Could you have just tackled her in general? Yes. But it wouldn’t have been nearly as satisfying as watching her fly to the ground. She ran full speed down the wing, not looking where her defenders were. You timed your run well, bracing your body as she slammed into you. You had bothered to stick out your leg to make it look like you were aiming for the ball, but everyone, on and off the pitch, knew you were going for revenge. She clattered to the ground in a pile of red and white, and a torrent of Irish-accented swears erupted from her.
You were immediately faced with an angry Aussie. Caitlin shoved your shoulders as she demanded retribution for you. You lifted your hands innocently.
“I was going for the ball,” you said, shrugging a little. You could see the referee approaching, Alexia looking furious at you, and Lucy shaking her head. Still, you could see her smiling – finding the situation at least somewhat amusing. “I was going for the ball,” you repeated to the ref, ignoring the shouts from the Arsenal girls. “See, she’s fine.” You gestured to a now-standing McCabe. It didn’t help your case; the yellow square was lifted above your head as you rolled your eyes.
“Fucking short-arse bitch” you heard McCabe mutter as you all walked away, ready to finish this half.
“And yet, I still put you on the ground,” you smirked at her, letting Lucy drag you away.
Halftime was full of Alexia's lecture. You looked to Jona to see if he would intervene, but he just shrugged. When he saw Lucy go down from a dodgy tackle, he expected nothing less from you.
“Prometiste que te portarías lo mejor posible.”
“She’s still walking, isn’t she?” You weren’t about to apologise for this. This was your style of play; she knew that when you joined the team; Barca knew it when they signed you.
“Qué dije de los amarillos? Te pedí que no los consiguieras. Y que haces?” She continued as if you hadn’t spoken. “Necesitas empezar a actuar de forma más adulta al respecto. No necesitas ser cardada por todo. Recibir tarjetas todo el tiempo es muy inmaduro. No tienes respeto”
“Enough, Alexia.” You interrupted. Yes, she had somewhat of a right to be angry at you, but calling you immature? Saying you had no respect? “I play my style of play. If the club didn’t like it, they wouldn’t have renewed my contract or signed me in the first place. If Jona has a problem with it, he would either speak to me or not play me. But they haven’t. I have renewed with Barca and Jona hasn’t even mentioned it in our one-to-ones. You are the only one who’s up my arse about this. And you’ve been pestering Lucy, too. Newsflash, she’s not my keeper, Alexia, and I am not a child; she’s my girlfriend.” You could see she was trying to interrupt you again, but you pushed through. “If you had maybe spoken to me in a way that suggested you valued me as a player and a person rather than lecturing me every chance you get, we could be in a different situation right now. But no, you have insulted me and the way I play my football, and now you have made me even more pissed off than I already was. So please, leave me alone at the moment.” You were seething. You hadn’t meant to explode at her like you did, but she had hurt your feelings one too many times about a bloody yellow card. You looked around the changing room, seeing the shocked expressions on people’s faces. No one spoke to their captain like that. You didn’t dare glance at Lucy, too afraid of what you might see. You would have seen the proud expression gracing her face if you had. She had been waiting for you to detonate at Alexia; she could see it in the way you grit your teeth during every lecture, the way you took longer showers after training to destress every time Alexia had called you away to talk about your behaviour, the way you were baking more and more as a method to try to quell your anger.
You pushed your way past, banging the door heavily as you stormed back out of the tunnel. You knew the Emirates well, so there were no chances of you getting lost. A few doors down, there was a seldom-used bathroom you could hide in, but you could still hear the chatter that told you the team was in the tunnel, ready to start the second half.
The changing room was silent. You could hear a mouse sneeze if you listened carefully enough.
“Bien entonces,” it was Mapi who spoke – breaking the tension-filled silence.
“Quién se cree que ella es? Todo lo que he estado tratando de hacer es ayudarla a limpiar su juego.” Alexia was incredulous. She believed you needed to clean up your act if you were going to go far at Barca. She didn’t consider the fact that you had numerous accolades to your name, coming second in the Ballon d’Or for the past 3 years and earning yourself a Sports Personality of the Year twice.
“No, Alexia. You are in the wrong.” Lucy snapped. She couldn’t allow this to go on any longer. Yes, she wanted you to stop getting yellow cards, but not at the expense of your style of play. She wanted the cards to stop being the only thing commentators spoke about when your name was mentioned. She wanted the world to see you as she did. “I know you meant well, but you basically asked her to stop playing in the way that makes her so unique. Imagine if someone did that to you, you’d be pretty pissed off too.” Alexia frowned. That wasn’t what she had meant – not at all. She wanted you to stop getting the yellow cards because she viewed something to be feared, not something that was just a part of playing football.
“Y ahora te has ido y la has hecho aún más enojada,” Patri laughed humourlessly. “No se sorprendan si hoy vemos un rojo, chicas,” she added as the team made their way back to the pitch.
You slipped silently out of the bathroom, joining the rest of the team as if you were just the last one to leave the changing room.
“Hey, pretty girl,” Lucy said, extending her hand to you as she lingered just out of sight of the cameras.
“Hey, gorgeous.” You squeezed her hand, letting her know you were ok.
“Please, try not to get a red,” she joked.
“If McCabe behaves, so will I,” you said seriously. She smirked at you – just the sort of thing she was expecting from you.
McCabe did not behave. It was remarkable how calm you had been, considering how riled you were during the half-time break. You had spent a lot of this second half on the floor, being a victim of harsh tackles from McCabe herself and a particular Aussie. You could see your English teammates wincing every time you went down. But you always gave as good as you got, leaving unforgiving shoves and exacting tackles just on the right side of nasty.
 It was in the 55th minute when the second incident occurred. You were genuinely going for the ball. You both jumped up for a header – you might have jumped more sideways than up, but that was neither here nor there. The slight knock you gave her made her lose her balance, landing hard on her hands and knees rather than her feet. It didn’t help that you landed perfectly upright, either. You knew how much running into you could hurt – particularly if you braced yourself (which you had been); she had been jogging backwards, unaware of your presence behind her.
“Oh, my god. I am so sorry. Are you ok?” You were genuine this time; both your national and club teammates could see it. This time, Leah was the first one to you, pulling you away by your shoulder.
“What the fuck, Y/N?” She asked, shocked by your display of aggression.
“I’m sorry, Lee. That was a complete accident.” You looked down at McCabe rolling around on the floor, gripping at her ankle. She just sighed in response. Lucy was the first of your Barca friends to reach you.
“I’m sorry,” you said dejectedly.
“I know you are, lovely” Lucy squeezed your elbow gently. “But you know you’re going to get a card, right?”
“Yeh, I know.” You turned to face the ref, shocked to see Alexia pleading with her and arguing for you. You were unsurprised when her protests were waved away, and you were presented with the yellow and red squares before being shown that you had to leave the pitch. You took it graciously and headed off the pitch.
You were escorted to the changing room by an official but were left to your own devices. You showered quickly before changing into your clothes, grateful you had packed some ‘street clothes’ – just jeans and one of Lucy’s hoodies. As you heard the Emirates erupt with cheers, the idea was planted in your head. This was a Champions League semi-final, no way in hell were you missing that. So, you slipped your accreditation around your neck and left the changing room. The crowd were still celebrating the Arsenal goal as you emerged from the tunnel. You saw Jonas spot you, his eyes widening as he gestured to the Fourth Official. You nodded once and waved at Jona and the other Barca coaches before hopping over the barricade. You spotted a woman with a young girl sitting on her lap with a free seat next to her.
“Do you mind?” You asked as you gestured to the seat. The woman shook her head and laughed a little as you made yourself comfortable next to her. The little girl was staring at you wide-eyed. She was wearing a little Barca jersey with her hair in two plaits, looking the epitome of cute.
“Hi, I’m Y/N.” You said, extending your hand to her. “What’s your name?” After a second of cajoling from her mother, she piped up.
“Lucie. But with an -ie not a -y.”
“Well, Lucie with an -ie not a -y, that is a very good name.” You smiled and turned back to the pitch, watching the game resume. You could tell the cameras were on you; you could see Ingrid shaking her head from the bench every time your face was displayed on the big screen.
The rest of the match was uneventful. Barca scored another two goals, bringing the final score to 5 – 1.
“So, Lucie with an -ie. Whose number’s on the back?” You nodded to her shirt.
“Lucy Bronze,” she cheered. “She’s my favourite. And we have the same name, but we spell it differently.” Lucie said with all the seriousness of a 6-year-old with something essential to tell you.
“Can I let you into a secret?” You leant down to whisper to her conspiratorially. She nodded enthusiastically. “She’s my favourite too.” Lucie looked up wide-eyed at you. “Do you want me to try and get you her shirt?” You asked. Her eyes grew even wider; you thought her head might pop off with how aggressively she was nodding. “Ok, wait here, ok. I’ll be right back.” You smiled as you hopped the barrier again, making your way onto the pitch and headed straight to Lucy. She was standing with Keira and Leah, clearly having a bit of a catch-up.
“Hello, trouble.” Keira teased as you appeared.
“Yeh, yeh.” You lightly shoved her head. “Can I have your shirt, my love?” You asked Lucy. She cocked her head at your request. “I think I might have found your biggest fan.” You smiled as you started to take your jumper off, grateful that you had put a shirt on underneath for once. Lucy laughed as she whipped off her top, thanking you as she slipped the hoodie on to keep her covered. You hugged Leah quickly before dragging Lucy away to find your new friend.
“Alexia wants to talk to you, pretty girl,” Lucy said as you pulled her back to the stands.
“Later,” you sighed, not really in the mood for anything Alexia had to say. “I want you to meet my new friend first.” You looked at her with a wide smile as you came to a stop in front of Lucie.
“Lucie with an -ie meet Lucy with a -y. Luce, this is my new friend, Lucie.” You did the unnecessary introductions.
“Hi,” Lucy grinned at the young girl. You handed the jersey off to her mum as you left them alone for a little bit, moving to interact with some of the other fans.
A little while later, familiar strong arms wrapped around your waist, distracting you from your conversation with Alessia and Lotte.
“Nosotras tenemos que ir, lovely” Lucy whispered, kissing your shoulder lightly.
“We get it; you speak Spanish.” Alessia teased, waving goodbye to you as you sent them both a kiss.
“Vamos,” you joked as you leant back into Lucy. Although your position made it a little awkward to walk, you were too comfortable to move.
“What reward do you want this week?” Lucy whispered in your ear as you entered the tunnel.
“Reward? But I got a card, two, in fact. Or did you miss the part where McCabe ran into me twice, and you went down a player?” You looked at her, confused.
“I know, but you were so, so sexy.” She squeezed you not-too-gently. “I’ve got to treat my pretty girl when she looks that good,” she teased, but you knew by the glint in her eyes that she was deadly serious. You hummed.
“I think I might have some ideas,” you mused as you leant back on her subtly, letting your head drop back on her shoulder.
“Good,” she whispered back, littering a series of kisses to your cheek. “My short, sexy defender.” She laughed.
“Oi,” you slapped her arm. “Enough with the short jokes.”
“Never, you get so riled up by them.” She laughed at your angry expression. “And you know exactly what that does to me,” she said lowly in your ear – a lasting promise of later left unspoken in the air.
I hope you enjoyed it <3<3<3<3
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readychilledwine · 4 months
Text
Size Kink
✨️Kink Education with Elizabeth✨️
A Size Kink is a general term for being aroused by being smaller/larger than your partner. It can be height, muscle mass/weight in general, cock size, ect. This is generally a kink we associate with subs having, but in my humble 5'1" experience, I've met more Doms with this kink than subs (hence my 5'11" baby daddy who thought he'd never have someone short enough to enjoy this kink with.) This kink has several subgroups that fall into it and sex acts that fall into it, but my personal favorite to write is height difference and body frame difference. So tall muscular male, short female (curvy or lean.)
What I love about size kinks is that it's so focused on specific aspects, and ANY body type gets to play with it. Little hands? Little legs? Luscious curves? Member of the Itty bitty titty committee? There is someone out there with a size Kink who is into your body and thinks you are a piece of artwork and sexiest thing on the planet. It's so beautiful because it is a body type kink that does not discriminate, and as a sex positive and body image positive person, I think that's super important and comforting for some people.
💕Peep the Valentines Day list here💕
As always NSFW below the cut
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Azriel x short!reader
Warnings - reader is VERY petite, smut, p in v, slow stretching
A/N - So, I actually have a request for a size Kink with Cassian sitting in my drafts as well from before I decided to do Valentines Day Bingo. Since I picture Cassian as an absolute unit, I used a more Megan thee Stallion vibe for that reader (tall and thick) so I decided to go very short and thinner built for this one to ensure they'd be different. I apologize if that bothers anyone. I will try to get that Cassian request finished asap to post it and make up for this 💙
Ps- with how quickly I am cranking some of these out, and how.... spicy some of them are getting, I don't have my normal outside editing all of the time. Baby daddy proof read this one. Before staring at me and going, "that wasn't fair." So, I apologize for any errors, as always, I will catch them on my fresh reread after it's posted 🫠
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Azriel was slowly losing his mind as he watched you use a chair to be closer to Cassian's height and argue with him face to face.
You were just so… small. So little compared to the two Illyrian males. They towered over you. They dwarfed you. Hell, he and Cass had discussed several times how easy you'd be to manhandle, considering they were both so sure their large hands could almost touch if they were wrapped around your waist.
At 6’8” and 7’ it wasn't hard for him and Cassian to own a room or be the tallest males, but Gods when Azriel stood next to your 5’ frame, when he saw Cassian pick you up like you were no more than a doll. It did something to him. It made him feel like a God, like he was powerful, possibly invincible.
He had been further spurred on by over hearing you and Nesta yesterday. She had asked you about how, if the opportunity presented itself, you would manage to fuck an Illyrian, and you, you with your never back down attitude had told Ness, “Mountains were made to be climbed.” He did not know if you had meant that in regards to him, but his hand found his cock quickly that night.
Azriel walked over to where you and Cassian argued over cereal. The fight wasn't serious, but he just needed to remind you that even with a chair below you, you still fell a few inches short.
“Get down before you fall and hurt yourself, angel.” He put a hand to you, offering to help you down. You glared, but put your hand in his.
Offering to help you was a mistake.
He felt the blood rushing to his cock as your little hand sat in his.
He shared a knowing look with Cassian when you looked away to step down and get back on the floor. The argument resumed instantly, your hand still in his.
It stopped as soon as Nesta walked in. Her mate and you going silent and agreeing to disagree.
Well, at least you thought you had agreed. Until Cassian turned around, Nesta in his arms waiting to fly into Velaris. He looked between you and Azriel before smirking. “You know, y/n, you might have shit taste in cereal, but at least you're the perfect height for some things.”
You didn't get it until you turned to Azriel, plush lips parted to ask what Cassian meant.
The blush that spread your cheeks was sinful.
Another image Azriel would save when he imagined it was your mouth around his cock tonight.
Azriel's room was across the hall from yours, so he knew you were being subjected to the same torture he was.
He was sure all of the Night Court could hear Cassian and Nesta. He rolled over to his back, throwing an arm over his face and sighing.
You were so small, so sneaky, he hadn't noticed you come in and shut the door until you were sitting on his bed.
And fuck being in his custom made oversized bed made you look so little. “Hello angel.”
He made room for you, welcoming you under the blanket you laid facing him, watching him. “Do you all never.. get worn out?” He chuckled. “Because humans do. Males typically finish, then they're like, done, and asleep.”
He looked towards you, laughing and smiling so hard his dimples were showing. “Is that your way of telling me you didn't enjoy rolling in the sheets while you were human?”
That blush spread your face again. “I had plenty of fun before Hybern did this to me. Thank you very much, sir.”
You had done it. Azriel shut his eyes, growling at the nickname as he did. “You cannot call me that when you're laying in my bed, y/n.”
You looked at him, snuggling closer to him. You knew what you were doing to him. You had known for a while. You always tracked his eyes when he'd watch you take your heels off, biting his lip thinking no one was looking. You noticed him hide his arousal behind a mask of indifference when you would climb things around the House of Wind. You had also noticed Azriel and Cassian taking every chance they could to lift you.
You had even know Azriel was so sneakily listening to you and Nesta the other day, and you had meant it. Azriel was a mountain you intended on climbing. “Of course, sir. Wouldn't want you to have to use those big hands to keep me quiet.”
The growl that echoed through the room had your thighs clenching. He was on you in an instant arm between your breasts, so it rested on your neck. The other hand sat on your hip, inching forward. “Do not tease me.” You could feel him pressed against your back, mind immediately lost in how that would fit.
You may have been biting off more than you could chew.
But fuck it.
You had never backed down from a challenge. Why start now?
You wiggled further into him, grazing his cock with each movement. “What if I'm not teasing? What if this is an offer, sir?”
“You're going to regret that, little one,” Azriel's hand immediately was in your shorts, his other hand squeezing your throat. A thick finger ran your soaked core, pulling a moan from you. “Going to have to go slow,” Azriel ground his hips into you, needing that friction on his aching cock. “Don't want to hurt you, angel.”
That one finger entered you without warning. It was already a stretch, but one you welcomed.
You loved how everything about Azriel was so big. His hands, his muscled chest and arms, his wings. Of course he'd be big there too. Anticipation began to replace the fear. You relaxed into him, tilting your head and pulling him into a heated sloppy kiss.
Azriel swallowed your moans and cries as his finger opened you up for him. You were tight, so damn tight. His hand moved from your throat to your breasts, loving how they weren't even a handful for him. You were so petite and slim, he reminded himself. He pulled your tank top off, maneuvering the best he could to get you fully below him. He pushed in a second finger, watching as you squirmed so helplessly below him. “So fucking little,” he moaned. “Mother above you're perfect. Just perfect.”
He leaned back, fingers increasing speed the best they could with your shorts in the way while he toyed with your breasts, pinching your nipples and smacking the tender flesh as he saw fit. “Cum for me so I can sit you on my cock, angel. You can do it, y/n. Show me how tight you'll be squeezing around me.”
You felt like you were floating as you came, whimpering Azriel's name as you watched him rut against the mattress for some friction, hazel eyes damn near lost in lust.
He pulled his fingers out of you, wasting no time ripping his sweatpants off and using those juices to coat himself. Your shorts came next, torn to shreds as he pulled you to the edge of the mattress and rested one leg on both sides of his chest.
He was as perfect as you imagined. His cock was long and thick. He was running it along your folds, soaking up at the slick he could before smacking the head of it against your clit.
Azriel could help but to stand with his hips flush against yours, admiring how it looked like his cock would be damn near in your stomach. “Gonna go slow,” he mumbled as he positioned himself at your entrance. “Can't risk hurting my little angel.”
He pushed the head in, keeping an eye on you as you moaned out a long fuck before relaxing into his bed. He sat there, only a few inches inside of you, feeling as your walls stretched out to accommodate him.
He pulled out and slowly reentered, pushing a little more inside of you. Your back arched off the bed, a whimper of pleasure ripping through your throat. The burn of it felt so good. You felt yourself drooling already, mind numb, and lost to anything that wasn't Azriel.
He continued his motions over and over until he was flush against your hips, and you were screaming for him. You had cum just from him slowly getting inside of you, and now he could see the bulge he had created, the slight swelling inside of you as your body made room for him.
Azriel put a hand on the bulge, feeling himself inside of you as he began thrusting. You were squeezing him so tight, hand struggling to find him to hold on to something.
He felt himself losing control, pace growing faster and faster as he watched you squirming and moaning below him. His arms went behind your hips and back, lifting you off the bed and manhandling you in the air for a little while. He brought you to his chest, moving you to be against the wall that shared his room and Cassian's.
A silent brag, and message, that he could now accurrately inform Cassian how easy you were to toss around like a doll.
Your hands found purchase on his shoulders as you became a babbling mess. Your silky core was twitching and tightening around him all over again, indicating to him how close you were, how ready you were. “Az,” you panted. “So fucking big.”
“Yeah,” he kissed the top of your head. “Bet it feels so good stretching you out, doesn't it, baby?” You couldn't respond as a certain angle had you becoming pliant in his arms. “Fuck I know it does.” He was practically lifting you on and off of him, watching as you stretched around his cock. “You're close, aren't you, angel?”
You nodded, eyes glazed over and jaw fallen open to the perfect o. “Gonna cum.”
“Then cum. Squeeze my cock. You wanted to climb the mountain, right y/n? Fucking climb.”
You hit that peak on his command again, clinging to him tightly as he continued using you and stretching you out.
It took Azriel a few more moments, but he stilled inside of you, head thrown back in a loud growl as he came inside of you. He pressed you back against the wall, panting slightly as he stared into your eyes. He lifted you easily, allowing his cock to fall out of you and you to whine at the sudden emptiness that took place where he had filled you.
“This can't be a one-time thing,” his voice was almost desperate as he moved to set you on the desk, forehead finding yours. “I need more of you. All of you.”
You couldn't help but to bit your lip, nodding so quickly with a growing smile. “I like how little you make me feel. How safe you make me feel.”
Azriel's eyes almost rolled back completely as they shut. “Gods you are perfect.” He leaned in to kiss you, only to be interrupted by his door slamming open and Cassian and Nesta barging in.
A massive wing snapped between you and them, blocking your body from their view.
Cassian cleared his throat before speaking. “We want to know how exactly that worked. Show us. Please.”
“Show you?!” Your voice cracked as you turned to a smirking Azriel.
Azriel kissed your forehead. “Bend over the desk, angel. Gotta give him a show since he asked so nicely.”
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General tag list:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho
@mariahoedt @rinalouu @sarawritestories @starryhiraeth
Valentines Day Taglist:
@sfhsgrad-blog @amara-moonlight @eternallyelvish @novaksangel @teenageeggscissorslawyer @thisblogisaboutabook @amygdtjhddzvb  
@justasillylittlegoofyguy
Azriel Taglist:
@elle4404
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your-local-baguette · 3 months
Text
Some hashiras with a tall reader
Warnings: maybe suggestive idk, not proofread, after the swordsmith village arc.
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Giyuu tomioka
He might seem indifferent about it sometimes since he almost never shows any emotions
But when he met you he was kind of surprised, you stood next to him without your heels and were still taller
He admires that trait of yours, you even sometimes lean down from behind on his shoulder
Honestly, i think he really enjoys a tall s/o he protected his whole time as a hashira, makes him feels protected in some way
Giyuu heard your shoes hitting the ground, he recognized your walking pattern by heart, the clacking of your heels...he saw you in the corner of his eye, your taller figure tugged a slight smile on his lips. His gaze lingered on you for a little bit. "Giyuu ? Giyuuu are you there ?" He snapped out of his trance, locking gaze with yours, his head tilted up slightly. "Yea...i'm here" he said quietly, looking away
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Sanemi shinaguzawa
He always grumbles when around you, like as if he was intimidated
He isn't, just finds it really hot, trying to hide his blush
He covers it up with aggression
Litterally fucking adores your height ??
Sanemi sounds like a sucker for a taller s/o
Wear heels and you've got him on his knees
He stood in front of you, his arms crossed on his chest, looking up at you with his angry face. You looked down at him, tilting your head slightly, which made him turn his gaze away. A sly smile attached to your lips "what?~ intimidated?" You said to him playfully. "No! Never, you're just really hot- i mean ugly!" You raised an eyebrow at him "aure, whatever you say shortie" you hit the top of his head playfully.
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Muichiro tokito
He actually indifferent about it
Tall or short he like you a lot, because you alway come cloud gazing with him
But it does have an effect on him, he does like it
Sometimes he just looks up at you, his mouth slightly parted
Muichiro looking up at you, mouth slightly parted as his hair flows with the wind. "You look pretty" he said, his expression not changing a single bit. "Thank you mui, you're very pretty too" he tilted his head before smiling up at you "your height is very impressive you know.." "really..?" "Yes.." he felt his whole body being engulfed in a hug "thank you...i appreciate it a lot"
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Obanai iguro
He was a little impressed with your height but he quickly got used to it due to gyomei existing
Obanai has a smaller figure so you really tower over him
It might seems crazy but he wasn't just impressed but intimidated too at first.
But if kaburamaru likes you, you can't be so bad, can you ?
Yea he fucking started loving you
You pinned him to a wall one day and it looked like a bear next to a bee
"what are you doing" obanai said, his voice laced with venom, he got that tough exterior but soft inside. You didn't let that discourage you and leaned your face closer to his, he froze, he hoped you couldn't hear his heartbeat. He eyed you down for a hot second. You were at least one head and a half taller than him, he felt like a little mouse but it was you so, maybe it was turning him on just a little tiny bit.
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chamomiletealeaf · 3 months
Note
Hey mama😚 I saw that you’re taking requests and I came RUNNINGGGGG to ask you this, so!
How do we feel the 141 men would react to being with a taller, thicker girlie that often gets insecure bc of that? This idea has been brewin for a minutee so I had to get it outta my system😭 if you’re comfortable with it too could you involve konig in it? Don’t feel pressured to ofc 😚💕
Have a good rest of your day/afternoon/night!! Xoxo💋
Hi! I love this ask! I myself am not too tall, around 5'5 (5'4" 3/4 to be exact) and I have never been very skinny, but hopefully I can do this idea justice!
warnings: afab! fem reader, smut MDNI, body worship
Price is a thigh man and he will die on that hill. He just loves your legs. Since you are taller than most girls, that just means there's more of your legs. You were Price's dream come true because not only were you tall, your thighs were so perfectly plump from how thick you were too. When he first met you when Laswell introduced you two at her wedding anniversary party, you wore a skirt that ended mid thigh, leaving just enough to his imagination, and just enough for him to get a peek at your thighs. He noticed he didn't have to break his neck looking down at you, and immediately imagined how easy it would be to kiss you. He also noticed your damn heels he thought looked so fucking sexy on you, creating the illusion of elongating your legs even further and making you taller, which just brought you closer up to his lips.
That night ended with him taking your heels off for you and slowly dragging his hands and mouth up your long legs, making every sting from snide comments about your skirt or heels melt away.
Your body is so soft in his hands and he loves squeezing you. He'll kiss you and both of his hands are immediately on your ass squeezing, making you yelp.
"Mmm. Damn lovie. This fucking arse is delicious." He'll smirk down at you while you giggle at his choice of words and his hands move down to pinch your thighs.
"And these thighs. Just wanna bite 'em up."
You always know how this goes. Whenever his hands are on you and he's talking to you like this, it always ends up with his head between your thighs.
And "bite 'em up" he does. He sucks hickeys into your inner thighs and leaves little bite marks.
"Fuck sweetheart. Look at that. A little love bite right there so you don't forget who's face belongs between your thighs."
Bonus if you squeeze your thighs around his head. It would make him cum immediately.
Price would love thigh fucking. Arguably even more than vaginal sex. Something about the way your thighs squeeze him so nicely without even trying, your slick lubing your pussy and thighs perfectly and just enough for his thick cock to slide in and out between them.
"Fuck darlin' look at that. Don't even need to press your thighs together for me to fuck them. Squeezing me so well. You're so fucking soft."
Simon is so pleasantly surprised when he first meets you. You were tall and you weren't even wearing heels which made Simon silently groan behind his mask as he thought about your long thick legs locking around his waist as he pounded into you.
Your forehead would come up right to his lips, making it so easy to kiss it, which he always took advantage of.
I feel like Simon would also just pick you up randomly. Lifting you up easily when you complain about being too tall or heavy to show you that you are not.
Most times he'll throw you on the bed and show you why your height and thickness are perfect.
"See honey, if you were short, your legs wouldn't be able to lift yourself up and down my cock so easily would they?" He says in your ear, gripping your hips while you ride him.
Or when he's fucking you in doggy with a death grip on your waist when you're feeling insecure he'll say:
"Yeah bunny just like that. Look at that perfect fuckin' ass bouncing back on me. If you were smaller I wouldn't get to grip your cute little love handles like this now would I hm? They're called love handles for a reason now aren't they?" He says between pants.
Gaz is speechless the first time he sees you. You made him feel like a nerdy schoolboy passing by his popular crush in the hallway. You were taller and bigger than most girls he's seen but that just meant there was more of you for him to love.
He loves seeing you get all dressed up, and especially when you wear fitted dresses and outfits so he can see every shape and curve of your body. He loves how his clothes can fit you just right and thinks it's so cute that you two can share clothes.
You'll try his jeans on and the length will be good enough, but you cannot slide them over the tops of your thighs and ass, making him smirk, but you look in the mirror embarrassed that you are bigger than your boyfriend.
"What's that look for?" He asks, seeing you pout in the mirror and looking behind you at your ass that won't fit in his jeans and you continue to try and pull them up, making the waist band catch under your ass which makes it jiggle with each tug.
"Keep doin' that love. Don't think you know what that view looks like from back here." He says with a full on cheeky smile now.
"Stop it Gaz." You warn him with a glare, genuinely upset his jeans won't fit.
"Aww it's ok hun." He says walking up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning his head on your shoulder.
"I'd rather see you without pants on anyways." He says, and you look down and away from him. Even when you're upset, he still finds a way to make you blush.
Then he'd kiss all up and down your neck, then your arms, and all down your legs pulling the jeans off. He kisses his way back up your body up to your ears and whispers:
"On the bed honey. Need to feel you."
And before you know it, you're sitting on Gaz's face while he locks your thighs around his head with his arms and you can't remember what even got you here in the first place.
"Gaz. Baby can you breathe?" You ask worriedly.
He just grunts disapprovingly and locks his arms around you harder so you don't get the idea to scoot away and you moan, feeling his head nuzzle itself deeper between your thighs.
He doesn't care if he can't breathe. You're the only air he'll ever need.
Johnny is absolutely SMITTEN when he first sees you and he's the most obvious. Mouth agape and eyes wide when Price introduces you to the task force as his niece and Gaz smacks him over the head.
Since then he's been literally obsessed with you and since you started dating, he brags to everyone about how he has the most gorgeous woman in the world.
Johnny loves when you wear heels too. Not only because it makes you taller and accentuates your long legs, but because Johnny is the shortest of the Task Force men, and when you wear heels, his eyes are perfectly aligned with your tits.
Whenever you wear heels around him he is not looking at your eyes. It takes everything in him to not just lean forward and smush his face into your cleavage. For Johnny, a bigger girl also meant bigger boobs for him to play with. He'll also come behind you and just squeeze them, reveling in how much they fill his palms. He just loves your tits so much. You'll be laying down on the couch and he's jumping right on top of you burying his face in them with a content sigh, or he'll be begging you to let him fuck them. He'll slide his cock between your tits and he will absolutely lose his mind for sure, watching how they bounce with each thrust.
For Halloween you two would be Gomez and Morticia since you are literally them in real life anyways.
You definitely feed into his mommy kink. He loves how you hold his head against his chest when he needs a snuggle and how he doesn't feel the need to be so careful handling you, and that way you can treat him like the finest porcelain doll.
König would feel elated and strangely validated since he knows what it's like to be seen as "the tall one".
And with you, for the first time, he doesn't feel so estranged. He, of course was still taller than you, but he loved how you were tall too.
He thinks it's so hot seeing you with your friends and you're taller than them. It gives him a sense of pride knowing that the most noticeable and beautiful girl in the room is his.
I feel like König would absolutely love when you give him handjobs. He's so big that the other women he's been with couldn't exactly hold him correctly or jerk him off fast enough due to his size.
But you? Since you were a little closer to his size, you made it work, two hands, and if you really tried one hand, squeezing and jerking him the way no other woman has, making him shoot cum all over himself.
And he loves how your legs can reach up on his shoulders while he fucks you in a mating press. A shorter woman would have a harder time reaching their legs over him in that position, and finally being able to do it gave him this primal urge to fuck you like he would never fuck anyone else again, not like he ever would want to since he found you.
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loveindefinitely · 6 months
Text
༊*·˚ OUR HEARTS BEAT TOGETHER — how they react to seeing your self harm scars
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featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick
warnings. sfw, fem!reader, self harm (on thighs), mental health issues, pre-established relationships
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⤷ simon 'ghost' riley
you're lying in bed, your body draped over his and his hand idly tracing patterns on the back of your thigh. it's a lazy saturday night in, and you're both content to just lay down and enjoy each other's company.
turning, trying to dig yourself even closer to simon and get comfier, your sleep shorts ride up without you realising.
when simon's hand moves up to continue his patterns, he pauses when he runs his fingers over raised skin. thin, scarred skin -- the kind that would be extremely hard for an enemy to cause.
"princess?" his voice rumbles, a sleepy lilt to his tone as a crease forms between his eyebrows.
your eyes go wide, and anxiety grips your throat like a merc's hand. mouth falling open to say something, anything, you find yourself mute.
his other hand comes up to rest at the back of your head, a comforting weight as his hand continues to trace over the newly found scars.
"tell me," he says, imploring. not quite a demand, but not a request, either.
with a tremble, you move to wrap your smaller hand over his much larger one, stilling his movements. working your mouth over the syllables, you manage out a weak, "i haven't done it since i joined the 141."
his stiffened muscles ease, if only slightly. his breath comes out in a deep, unsteady exhale as he slowly nods.
"you didn't tell me," he murmurs. just a statement, not a judgement, or an accusation. just the truth.
"didn't want to scare you off," you admit, and the truth is poisonous on your tongue. "didn't know how to bring it up."
his hand starts playing with your hair, gently urging you to rest your head back against his neck. he runs warm, and the contact gives you some much needed relief.
"'m not sure what to say," he says, slowly, carefully. he weighs the words in his mouth before he continues, his voice unusually hesitant. "jus' know i love you, princess. no matter what."
a gentle smile creeps up onto your face as you press a light kiss on the skin behind his ear. "love you, simon."
he gently pulls your sleep shorts down, and those words ring undeniably true.
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⤷ johnny 'soap' mactavish
with a huff of annoyance, you plant your hand on the counter in front of you and rise to the tips of your toes, reaching with your right hand for the jar of cookies on top of the shelf in front of you. it's a pointless effort, considering your height, and how tall johnny's put the cookies.
bastard. he did this on purpose, you knew it.
"johnny!" you yell out, annoyance evident in his tone. if it were any other situation, you'd find it hilarious how he rushes into the kitchen, eyes wide. he knew he was in deep shit from your voice alone.
"baby...?" he asks, a nervous grin plastered on his face. somehow, he makes even that look charming.
it just serves to piss you off more.
you turn around, and repeat the actions you were doing before, emphasising your point. "look what you've done! now i can't even eat cookies in peace," you huff out, reaching for them yet again to no avail.
he's silent behind you, and you get back down to your feet with an eyeroll as you turn around, ready to chew him out.
however, you stop yourself, when you meet his blue eyes.
they're filled to the brim with sadness, and confusion, and worry. your mouth runs before you can stop it. "look, i'm not actually mad, it's honest cute but--"
he cuts you off as he pulls you into a soft, gentle kiss. it's the kind of kiss he gives you before a mission, or after an argument, or after something's made you cry. so what...
he pulls away, eyes searching your face for what, you weren't sure.
"i love you," he says, voice steady but weak in a way johnny's never was. "i wish you'd told me, i'd never've cared, baby, yer still stunnin'."
your mouth drops open, eyes becoming glassy. you were an idiot, really, wearing those shorts and reaching up like that. hadn't thought, hadn't used your brain.
"i..." you start, but find yourself not being able to finish the sentence. his hands come up to wipe underneath your eyes, face distressed but so caring. so loving.
"i'm sorry," you mumble, unsure.
he shakes his head immediately. "no. never be sorry, baby, 'm not mad, jus' worried."
and that hurts. it truly, really hurts, but he presses his lips against your shut eyes, presses his lips underneath them, too. he pulls you in, his head resting on your shoulder and arms wrapped tight around you.
"'m never lettin' you go. never. the day i do, i'll be in the ground."
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⤷ kyle 'gaz' garrick
you're laying on the couch sideways, your feet in kyle's lap as he gently paints your toenails. you'd won a bet earlier that day about price, and you were ringing in your payment happily.
although he pretended to be annoyed, it was fairly obvious that he was enjoying giving you princess treatment.
his tongue sticks out a little bit from the corner of his mouth, eyes focused on applying the nail polish as carefully and nicely as possible. you can't help but think about how lucky you were, having him as your partner. having him to love.
your eyes flutter closed, your knees straightening out from where they had been bent, to fully relax and enjoy the comforting position and moment.
they snap back open, however, when you realise that he's stopped painting them.
"done?" you ask, cheerful and grinning like the idiot in love you were.
you watch as kyle swallows, adam's apple bobbing. he shakes his head, brows furrowed and mouth pulled into a tight, grim line.
"what... what happened?" he asks, voice cracking slightly.
you tilt your head to the side, before it hits you.
looking down, you can see the scars under the living room light, and it makes your heart skip a beat. you'd been so careful, so cautious of him not seeing them.
he takes your silence as the answer it is, and his large hand grips both of your ankles in it, a comforting yet possessive presence.
"can we talk about it?" he asks, searching your eyes and expression for permission. it breaks your heart, shattering it on the surface like an ice rink in november.
you nod, a sharp movement of your head, and he exhales quietly, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment.
when he meets your eyes yet again, it's with a warm determination.
"if you ever feel like you need to do it again, or you're struggling, talk to me, my love. please. i'm here for a reason. cut me if you need to, or cry on my shoulder if it helps. just please, don't hurt yourself."
the earnestness, the cautious and adoring tone, it has your face crumpling and tears falling down your cheeks.
in one moment, you're falling apart, and in the next, you're seated in his lap, and he's putting you back together again.
with scarred hands and tender touches.
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a/n. veryyy self indulgent. might add more characters later, was gonna do price but was struggling with the scenario. if any of you guys have any ideas pls comment or send in an ask!! thank you for the reception of the other fics, especially considering they were my first cod pieces ever!!! love you all x
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imababblekat · 1 year
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A Rare Sight
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Prompt: A silence has befallen the ninja turtle lair, and three brothers catch an unthinkable sight of their rugged sibling, Raphael!
~xXx~
Not a voice or sound of clanging weapons resounded within the lair, just the soft hum of technology echoing from an unoccupied lab and the whir of the sewers. In such strange quietness, the youngest of the ninja turtles who had just recently returned with a new box of pizza looked around inquisitively. Seeing two of his three brothers, Leo and Donnie, standing over the other behind one of the lair walls, he quickly walked over. “Hey! What are-mumph!” Mikey was quickly silence by two hands slapping over his mouth followed by aggressive shushing. Both brothers slowly lowered their hands, Mikey doing his best to talk in a quieted tone. “I know I’m the life of the party, but why are y’all being so quiet?!” Leo pointed toward his eyes and then out around the corner to where Donnie had returned his own intense gaze. Setting down the box of triple meat and cheese pizza on a nearby rail, Mikey crept forward and shoved himself under Leo who grunted slightly annoyed. It took all of the orange clad ninja turtle to keep himself from squealing at the sight that had his brothers so intrigued. In the common area of the lair, beneath the glow of warm fairy lights, sat Raphael and you huddled close together on the couch. Both were fast asleep, a stark contrast to how Mikey had seen you two before leaving to get pizza, each one in a loud banter about who was the best DC hero and why. The way you two were so close was absolutely adorable, your head rested on Raph’s shoulder, and the fierce turtles head rested atop yours. The boys were used to the serenity of your sleeping state, but to see their brother whose color matched his typical rage of character in such similarity was absolutely baffling. Not to mention the fact that he had even fallen asleep so close to another person! Raphael was not exactly known for outwardly expressing his closeness to others, that including his own brothers. “How long have they been like that?!”, Mikey all but excitedly shrieked, both his brothers shushing him once more. Turning his attention back to the two most likely unintentional snuggle bugs on the sofa, Donnie’s nose scrunched in thought. “Could not be for long. I stepped into the lab only a few minutes after you left, and I could still hear them arguing over the recent DC movies.”, he whispered out, much quieter than his ecstatic brother. Mikey sighed, resting his chin on a propped elbow and seemingly kicking back his feet like a high schooler in the mist of day dreaming. “Dudes, I bet they’re item. Yeah, they’re totally an item~.” Above the swooning turtle, Leo shook his head, the tails of his mask swaying ever so lightly. “I doubt it. Just last week I saw (y,n) adjust his bench seat to get back at him for mocking her height again. Raph couldn’t even squeeze his big head into the space between the seat and bar.” Before any of the trio could make another comment, a noise from the center of the room had them freeze in place. As soon as they realized it was just you yawning in your sleep, they had relaxed. Curious gazes watched as you shuffled in place, snuggling in closer to the outwardly brutish ninja turtle, who turn had adjusted as well for closer proximity. Seeing Raph be so soft with your smaller form as it cuddled closer into his side, was not a sight any of the brothers thought they’d witness. Even in his sleep, Raphael seemed know to be gentle with you beside him, and despite the foreign feeling of having someone so physically close, his subconscious had clearly wanted it. Regardless, the scene of seeing their typically short fused brother so at peace in the arms of someone they all held dear brought a warmth to their hearts. Knowing that someone as strong headed as Raph, someone who often threw up a tough guy front to hide the softness deep within, found and got to experience such a wonderous moment, was all that they could wish for. With a content smile for his the brother he often butted heads with, Leo stepped back from spot against the wall. “Come on. Let’s give them some-“ CLICK! The eyes of Leo and Donnie shot open in pure surprise and horror when they snapped their sharp gaze towards the loud noise, only to find Mikey holding a camera he seemingly pulled out of thin air. Cheeks heating up in embarrassment at not realizing how loud the device would be, Mikey awkwardly chuckled. “What, they’re sleeping! There’s no way they heard right? Right?!” As if to answer the mischievous youngsters question, a groggy and familiarly angry tone reverberated off the lairs wall. “MIKEY!!!” Said turtle yelped and turned to find his two other brothers having fled with haste, leaving him to deal with the furious approaching sounds of a now awakened Raphael, all the while you sat in the background still half asleep and very confused about all the kerfuffle.
~xXx~
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grandline-fics · 21 days
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Hi Kerrie! I really enjoy your writing can I request short/small reader hc for Kid and Law? 🥺
DESCRIPTION: You’re shorter than him
WARNINGS:  just fluff
CHARACTERS: Kid
WORDS: 444
A/N:  I'm so glad you enjoy my work and thank you for this request. I haven't been well the last couple days so only did something short and sweet with this idea with just Kid. Hope you like it
*REQUESTS ARE OPEN*
MASTERLIST | PROMPT LIST
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Kid’s a tall and broad man to begin with and it’s clear he’ll have a head over most people. However the difference in your heights is even more pronounced because your height is naturally on the smaller side. He absolutely can not and will not be subtle about how much he loves you being short. When he’s standing next to you he will always rest his arm on your head and pathetically pretend he’s not doing anything but the large grin and his gaze constantly dropping down to watch your expression shift throughout the exchange. 
The first time he’d done this to you, your eyes had grown so wide out of shock and uncertainty about what to do in response that it made Kid smitten with you. He’d already had a clear soft spot for you beforehand but that moment was the point of no return for him and his awakened feelings for you. 
Now that you’re a couple though, whenever you sense his approach to engage in this banter that occurs at least three times a day you like to make a game out of it. Sometimes you like to move out of the way just in time for his arm to lurch on just air. Other times you like to let his weight settle on your head before you sit down or purposely drop something so you have to crouch down lower to retrieve it, forcing Kid to stoop further and further to the ground. other times you pretend he isn’t even there until his patience snaps and he has to scoop you into his arms and force you to look at him. When he does you can only grin and press a kiss against his cheek in playful greeting. 
Kid is also a menace to you when he demands your attention. It doesn’t matter if you’re doing something important, if he’s in a mood and wants to spend time with you then his needs win. There could be times you’re in mid-conversation with Killer, going over the current provisions on the ship and what needs to be urgently restocked the second you dock at a new island when you hear the heavy steps of Kid coming closer. Before you have the chance to turn your head, his arm is already around your waist and he’s lifting you off the ground. You’ll either be set over his shoulder or tucked under his arm, your limbs dangling in the air as you let him carry you to your shared quarters. You don’t complain though, you feel just as content and secure as he does when you’re curled up in his arms.
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TAG LIST (If I've missed anyone or if you want to be added just let me know) @3v37773, @tsaaps , @i-am-all-love-puns-and-lazy , @sanemisnonexistenteyebrow , @fiery-captain-spider-santa
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Hallo! Could I request a Ghost with a short reader? Like he tends to get underestimated because of his size but he’s just as strong and capable as the rest of them?
Simon “Ghost” Riley x short male reader
Headcanons
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-          Simon is one of the people who don’t underestimate you. He knows that your size doesn’t reflect on how skilled you are. He even calls others dumb for looking down at you so much for your size.
-          He feels some kinda pride when you hand them their asses, proving his point that your height factor into your talents.
-          You grow closer during missions and your height turns into a useful skill because you can fit in to smaller spaces and its easier for you to sneak around and take out enemies.
-          Will use you are an example for new recruits on not underestimating your enemy, would show examples on how smaller enemies can take you down with your help, and how to take down smaller enemies.
-          Simon would never tell anybody this, but he likes that you are as strong as everyone else because you can throw him around or pick him up.
 -          He likes when you wear his clothes, though he doesn’t verbalize it. He just leaves some of his clothes laying around your room and you get the hint.
-          Simon does the thing where he comes up behind you and rests his chin on the top of your head, because it always makes you annoyed and try to push him off. He chuckles and leaves down to give you a kiss through his balaclava.
-          At times he teases you by holding things out of reach above his head, though you end up just scaling him like a tree to grab whatever it is he has in his hands.
-          Ghost has thrown you over his shoulder or tucked you under his arm many times, calls you fun sized or carry sized. Would call you Teeny as a pet name.
-          Simon likes that he can wrap himself completely around you when you cuddle, because he feels he can protect you more.
-          No matter your height Ghost will still be little spoon sometimes, so sometimes you cuddle and you will hook your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his waist like a backpack.
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insanermin · 3 months
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and it taste like cherry lip gloss on your lips
pairing: bartender!ellie x fem!reader
warnings: soft ellie; my favourite warning, fluff! short mentions of blood and vomit (i promise it's not bad just v short), no nsfw, not proof read!
word count: 1,8k
summary: it's the night before your birthday and you party with friends. but leaving is all you think of until a certain bartender appears, cheering you up. or; ellie successfully gives her number to you.
a/n: it's my birthday! (it's the 5th already where i live, so yes, birthday time) yes, i am a pisces but! i am a cap moon and gemini rising, does that make up for it? i don't know, anyway i might make this a series??? inspo: i'm ready for you, bryson tiller
if it wasn't for the two hours of sleep that carried you through this dreadful day, then maybe you wouldn't have to curse out your friends at any second you had to spend here longer. the music pounding in your ears, sweaty bodies blocking your vision and alcohol violating the nerves of your nose. and to top it all off, your feet are starting to hurt, screaming at you to sit down.
although it was the night before your birthday, you couldn't help but think about all the things you'd rather do than to be here. your friends are long gone, they're dancing bodies melting into the crowd while your head is exploding in pain, you're surprised that you're not standing in a red puddle of your own misery.
you shake your head, blink a few times and take a deep breath; you're here to enjoy yourself, you're here to celebrate, you—
"are you okay?" a voice emerges, you're surprised that your ears could pick that up although the music drowns out any other noise that isn't itself. you turn your head to the side, where you believe the question came from, and you're right.
an auburn haired woman, around your height, probably two or three centimetres smaller, wearing a white shirt and pleated wide pants.
you muster her as questions arise in your head. why is her shirt not tugged in? why is she smiling at you? why does she seem so familiar?
"me? i think so," you reply, eyes still roaming for answers, but the more you look at her, the less sense you make out of her.
the barely shorter woman takes a step closer to you, her eyes meeting yours.
for a nanosecond the music turns into mere background noise and your body doesn't scream to dissolve, but the second the beat dropped you were reeled back in.
"you look out of it, want to step out for a bit?" she asks, worry reflecting her face. usually, you'd throw in a few sarcastic remarks here and there, but the smell of sweaty human flesh made you nauseous and you were sure the more you stayed in this crowded room, you would be exchanging the acid inside of your stomach rather than words.
about eight deep breaths later, sitting at the curb and feeling the cold breeze against your face, you finally start feeling better.
however the presence that lingers behind your back is starting to creep you out, especially since said presence hasn't spoken a single word.
you turn around, the woman is leaned against the wall while holding inadvertent eye contact with you.
"mind sitting next to me?" you ask, watching her mouth form a little 'oh' as she takes weirdly slow steps towards you.
she sits down, leaving an awkward gap between the two of you. the awkwardness in the air is overruled by the breeze that carries her woody but sweet scent, a delight to your abused sense of smell.
you observe her spreading her legs further apart, while her arms hug her knees, interesting, you note to yourself.
"so what's your name?" you watch the auburn haired woman scoff at your question. you furrow your eyebrows in confusion; she returns an apologetic look.
"oh, you don't remember me? i'm ellie, the bartender," she says, her green eyes boring into your cheekbones. you're starting to connect the dots, the familiarity, the reason why she approached you. your eyes widen in realisation as ellie just nods slowly in response, her lips thinned to a line.
"right, you work here," you mumble under your breath as your cheeks turn a shade of pink. how could you forget about her when she listened to your drunk rambles?
"what happened to your shirt?" you blurt out, in hopes to shift the focus on her.
ellie looks down, vividly confused at your question, feeling her upper body and noticing the unevenness of her shirt.
"that, well, these ass—" she clears her throat,
"—sorry, they ordered the wrong size for me, so neither my shirt or my vest fit—" the clearly annoyed woman says as she pulls down at her shirt. you knew it wasn't appropriate, however having sight of an admittedly attractive bartender that is not in the greatest of mood is for sure amazing eye-candy, but her voice raising pulls you out of thought.
"—so at this point, i was like fine, sure, fuck y'all, sorry, work on your own, i'm gonna take a break, and that's when i noticed you almost fainting." she finishes. panic grows in her eyes as they await an answer, but impatience and insecurity come first.
"sorry, did i talk too much?" ellie looks away, she hopes for you to take this question as a rhetorical one, her blowing up this way is more humiliating than she'd expect. she fiddles with her fingers, deep in thought.
this night has been incredibly exhausting, but laying her burden upon someone else might be the worst of it all. as a bartender, it's only natural for her to listen to all sorts of stories, every human-being needs someone to talk to, to be heard, to feel understood. although she didn't like to admit nor realise this, it left a sense of superiority within her; everyone relies on her, so she doesn't feel the need to be heard and understood. or that's what she liked to believe.
"no, your voice is soothing," you say, pulling her out of her spiralling thoughts.
the eyes of the distressed woman begin to soften, it might not be the end of the world talking to you, only because you seem to benefit from this conversation, of course.
"at first, i was intimidated by you, you seemed so cool, but now... you're surprisingly awkward," you chuckle, how can an attractive woman be so awkward? however, you didn't really mind, you thought it added some kind of sweetness to her character. she inches a little closer, aggressively facing your way, disbelief written all over her face.
"oh, so i'm not cool anymore? what if i tell you that my hands are pretty skilful?" her upper body is fully turned towards you at this point. she realised that entertaining your playfulness would make her feel better as well, but seeing you press down your lips, colour appearing in your cheeks and you blinking rapidly, quickly made her regret her decision. ellie balls her hand into a fist and covers her mouth, averting her eyes from you.
"shoot, no that's not— i can play the guitar..." the embarrassed woman explains, sorrow overriding the panic in her voice.
but you chuckling draws her eyes back to you, the corners of her mouth not knowing wether to smile or to frown.
"what?" ellie asks, eyebrows raised in expectation and mouth narrowed.
"'shoot' seriously? that doesn't sound like you," your wheezes turn into a heartfelt laugh. your laugh was like a sweet melody to ellie's ears, she didn't expect to enjoy your presence and joke around.
"seems like you're pretty much obsessed with me," she teases, her comfort reflecting in her voice. her mind entertained the idea of going back in, but if it meant to be herself for a few more minutes, then being yelled at for taking a too long break was worth it.
"no not really, you're the one trying to impress me with your skilful hands," you shoot back, feeling at ease. you're content as you notice that the gap between the two of you has completely disappeared.
for a second, your attention is drawn to your buzzing phone as you pull it out of your bag.
12:03 am.
"didn't expect to spend weirdly intimate time with a stranger on my birthday," you say, sentiment lingering in your voice. for some reason, knowing that your friends are on the dance floor enjoying themselves, probably too drunk to remember that they're here to celebrate your birthday, leaves a bitter taste on your tongue.
"oh come on that's super insulting— and besides, that's better than spending it alone in the cold," ellie defends herself.
however, her experience as a bartender makes it impossible to ignore the affliction in your voice. although in doubt, she rests her hand on your thigh, her green eyes searching for yours.
"that being said, happy birthday," she continues, a soft smile emerges on ellie's face. you can't tell whether its her hand on your thigh, her smile or just her that lets your heart skip a beat or two, but you don't really mind.
"thank you, but it's a little sad that only a bartender is congratulating me," you try to joke, your voice is laced with bitterness.
"no, you're getting it wrong, only extraordinary and amazing people are able to get a 'happy birthday' from a bartender, consider yourself lucky," the auburn haired woman chuckles as she pats your thigh.
her touch leaves you with goosebumps and looking at her face would only worsen it, so you avert your gaze from her. but when you realise what she just told you, curiosity conquers your mind.
"you think i'm extraordinary and amazing?" you ask, followed up by a scoff.
ellie's eyes widen, she winces and coughs. it only now crosses her mind that the two of you might have been flirting this whole time. but seeing the way your hair frames your face and your dress hugging your body, maybe she doesn't mind so much after all.
"well, i like the way you are, i mean not like like, you know, uh, you... have a cool personality," ellie's rosy cheeks spoke sooner than she could, leaving her completely vulnerable to you. her forced laughs and her fist rubbing her chin only aggravates said vulnerability, you got her good.
"you're pretty cool too, thank you," you reply, flashing a grin her way. your birthday night not be so terrible after all.
you only start to feel the cold of the night when ellie stands up, her presence taking all the warmth there was with her. you watch her search for something wildly in her pockets, her big hands are quite nice to look at.
"here," the woman offers you a crumpled up note, she always keeps one in her pocket just in case. mouthing an 'o', you accept said note and chuckle at its content. it feels good to be appreciated by a stranger once in a while, especially when that person is as good looking as ellie.
"i'm much cooler when you get to know me better—" she continues, her cheeks still pink.
"i would text me if i were you. only if you want of course, no pressure or anything," she suggests, her back now turned to you. she glances once more at you, before waving you goodbye while entering the club again. the last thing you hear is a very quiet 'yes' as the door closes, leaving only you and the few stars lighting up the sky.
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ffeelann · 3 months
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könig w a reader who is much smaller than him but has ATTITUDE like she's a girl boss and könig is just 🧍🏻‍♂️
a/n: HE ORDERED WITHOUT PICKLES love these ones
open requestsss
tw: marriage omg, husband/wife, gentle giant/short demon, fem reader, she's LOUD. Swearing bc this girl has her attitude sorry, yelling, könig being like ''sorry she's kinda... haha''. not my first lenguage sorry BE NICE ILY
—Hey, hey. Wait your turn, man, the hell you doing? We've been here waiting for hours— Y/N heard a soldier saying. Oh damn, they were skipping turns on the queue again.
Y/N was a nurse who was trying, to work and check every single guy out there. But someone was doing some mess.
—Hey, Y/N, would you please...?— one of the nurses asked her, but she didn't even let him finish and she took off her gloves without hesitation.
—Hell yeah, these big ass idiots are messing with my temple again— ''temple'' ment the poorly made nursery that barely kept on it's feet.
She walked off the nursery to see the queue being interrupted by a guy that was taking another... way much taller... wait a second.
Ah, shit. That was König.
—Hey! Hey, you, big insufferable toddler! Let that man go or I'll cancel your date!
Y/N yelled while she walked quickly to that place. König stared at her while she got closer to them both, without really moving. He just made a slight effort to keep himself quiet and without any move. Waiting for that tiny piece of anger to come there.
—You yell at him, girl! My feet are hurting like shit for standing here for, like, hours. And this guy wants to skip the fucking que-
—He's not hurt, you dumbass, don't you have eyes?— Y/N said, and the closest soldiers were honestly looking at her with some amusement on their faces, since she was deffending the biggest man from the middle heighted one. When she was...
—Yeah shortie, that's pretty much making it way wor-
Y/N tried to punch him, but König hold her faster by her waist and took two steps back to avoid her kicking the hurted guy. While this happened, she yelled and swore at him.
—The hell you doing, man? Let the nurse get him— another guy said. And König denied with his head quickly.
—My wife doesn't really appreciate any comments about her height. She can come out as...
She suddenly shutted down her voice.
—What did you say, babe?
—Uh... I said ''my wife doesn't...''-
Y/N pointed to König's face making some effort to it. Which all the closest soldiers listened closely, specially the guy who tried to hold Y/N's husband back before.
—Heard that? This is my husband. And he's big and he can really beat your ass, hear me? Do not disrespect my man again, understood?— she said, pointing at her ring and showing her hand off at his face.
—Eh...?
—Understood?! Made myself fucking clear?!
The guy looked at König's eyes, and the man in question avoided the eye contact to look at the mad woman on his arms. He looked at the man for a tiny bit to nod softly, indicating him to quit and shut up.
—Y-yes, ma'am...
—Good!
She took the big man's hand once he left her to conduct themselves into the nursery. And König felt very proud to the fact that everyone looked at his wife. She was lovely, after all.
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intheshadowsbehindyou · 8 months
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Could you do the mercs with an s/o who is like- almost comically short?
Oh boy wouldn’t it be a shame if this anon asked me to do a size difference nsfw headcanons one next? Wink wink.
Mercs with an S/O who’s a small menace to society
WARNING: Older bigger men bullying the ever living shit out you. (kinda hot though?)
Scout:
- Scout will not hesitate to make fun of you at every given moment. He’s a decently tall dude so he’ll manhandle you a lot. Holding you in his arms like a personal teddy bear. Overall walking around with you in his arms.
- You bite his arms when you’re bored and he flinches and goes “Ow! What are you? A fuckin’ goblin?!” (Doesn’t he know? The smaller you are, the closer you are to hell.)
- “I could probably slug you into the stratosphere y’know.” He says. You don’t want to test that theory.
- When he’s upset he’ll pick you up, go into his quarters and lay there with you in his arms. Just like the aforementioned teddy bear analogy. If you’re screeching and biting like a fucked up chihuahua that doesn’t deter him.
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Soldier:
- Keeps giving you petnames like “Boot.” “Little one.” “Rat bastard.” (Ignore that last one.) and cheesy shit like that. Treats you how a rich middle aged white woman would treat her teacup pig. You’re being strapped to his back in a baby carrier while he rocket jumps.
- Gets incredibly rough with you on purpose. He likes seeing your squeaks and angry reactions. This guy definitely has a height difference thing. Throws you at enemy lines at like mach 20 knowing full well you’ll shred them like a fucking gremlin. Or stuffs you into his rocket launcher. Pick your evil.
- Lies about you being younger in order to pay less in restaurants. He somehow gets away with this 90 percent of the time. Spy is kind of envious that he didn’t even think of that.
- “NO! WAIT! DONT SHOOT! HANGFIRE! CHILD ON BATTLEFIELD!” He raises you above his head. You’re unbelievably pissed. You’re a grown ass adult. But the enemy lines somehow hesitate which abides him time to blow everyone up. He has no reason to be this smart about your height.
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Demoman:
- The first time he saw you he burst out laughing. Really hard. Like nearly fell over and shit. He couldn’t stop laughing like actually. It took him days to even approach you properly and finally call you adorable.
- Picks you up when you can’t reach something off the top shelf and instead of helping you get it, he just sits you atop the shelf and leaves you there. They have to call either Heavy or Sniper in order to get you down.
- You take advantage of your height and perch on his shoulders like a parrot. The other mercs don’t understand why Demoman has a pet gremlin.
- “Er’ is my crotch goblin Y/N. They’re gonna bite your dick off if ye cap this point lad!” You can’t say you disagree with that.
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Engineer:
- A romantic partner whose tinier than him? Sign him the fuck up. Cradles you like a baby and kisses your head. Bounces you on his lap to soothe you. Expect a lot of sitting outside on the rocking chair at night while he rocks you in a blanket.
- You make grabby hands to him for uppies and he feels like he’s not allowed to say no. “Aww, sugarplum…” He cooes, setting down whatever he was working on and lifting you up into his arms. He might tickle your tummy if you’re fine with that :)
- Picks you up by the scruff of your uniform like a mother cat when you’re misbehaving. He will stare in amusement if you struggle.
- “Careful outside on the Badlands, darlin.. Never know when one of ‘em damn condors might be circling you.” You can’t decide if you want to kiss this man or kill him.
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Heavy:
- You’re literally so small he’s scared of accidentally stepping on you or something. Always has to wiggle his way around you in the base corridors and mutter what you assume to be an apology in Russian. What you don’t know is that he’s actually cursing out the Administrator for hiring such a tiny Merc. What if you get squashed by falling debris or something?
- HE PICKS YOU UP WITH ONE HAND. YOU ARE IN HIS FUCKING FIST. YOU ARE BEING HELD LIKE AN ICE CREAM CONE.
- Treats you like a fucking stress ball. scoops you up in his hands and squishes your cheeks. Lays you on his lap like a small kitten belly up. No amount of biting or awful demon noises will ever convince him to do otherwise. Chuckles lovingly at your tiny anger. “Little, little, little. Tiny like the ant.” He baby talks you.
- Due to your height it’s impossible to bother him. Unlike the others. You can gnaw at his ankles and scratch at his chest but he remains unmoved like a large boulder. Threatens to splat you against the wall like one of those rubber toys and turn you into a pancake.
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Pyro:
- In his point of view you’re actually terrifying. He doesn’t know why. But you stand out from the rest in their beloved Pyroland. You’re a creature from the primordial depths of hell that has come to eat their soul. You’re uncanny as shit.
- When they meet you for the first time it takes for godamn ever for the Mercs to finally figure out why Pyro was behaving so erratically and out of character. Engineer finally convinces poor Pyro to speak to you and it doesn’t end up in vain. You’re actually a pleasant scary monster.
- Spies don’t scare them. Pyro can kill spies with no effort. But you? Holy shit. Sometimes he doesn’t hear you come up behind them and this usually leads to Pyro spontaneously crying because you startled them. (Your team’s Spy is VERY envious of this.)
- You think this is great! You decide to play a prank on them by crawling on all fours down the dark hallway. Pyro looks like a deer in headlights. All tensed up like a cat attempting to look bigger. Two seconds later the entire base is on fire. You have to explain yourself to the other Mercs how this happened and it’s embarrassing.
- Whenever you kill someone on the battlefield it’s horrific shrieking mixed in with fleshy eating sounds.
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Sniper:
- Calls you stuff like “Baby bear.” Mostly because he purposely holds you like a mama koala in his camper van’s bed and in the sniper nests. You cling to his lap and listen to his heartbeat while he scopes out the window.
- Same as scout to some extent. Carries you around wherever he goes and holds you like a plush doll. “Easy there on the lil’ daggers, mate.” You keep digging into his skin to hold steady.
- Growls at you when you bite him. Something about you both is evil and animalistic. Bites you back on your “scruff” when you bother him too much. He wants to shake you around in his teeth like a fucking chewtoy but he knows full well that might accidentally kill you. Has straight up cute aggression around you.
- Sniper your furry is showing. Helen, get yo fuckin dog bitch.
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Medic:
- “Well it seems you stopped growing at a certain age. That typically is due to genetics and other factors.” He says after looking at X-rays of your finger bones. Tracing his finger over the image of your growth plates as he squints to see better. He fixes his glasses back up on his nose and scratches his chin.
- He gives you a mischievous side smile. It’s unsettling. He secretly finds the size difference incredibly attractive. He tells you to take the lead vest off and waves his hand dismissively when you question his creepy expression. “What?! It is just my usual smile. I always look like this.”
- You’re not convinced. You take the vest off and straighten your team uniform a bit to get yourself situated. Without warning he grabs you by the wrist as you attempt to leave. “Ah-ba-ba-ba! I didn’t say you could go yet.” He pulls you against his chest. Forcibly. His natural heat was causing your heart beat out of your chest. He kneeled down and wrapped his arms around you. Cupping a hand over your mouth. You couldn’t move.
- The way you were (in theory) powerless was exhilarating for him. He placed his free hand on your chest and marveled in your heartbeat. Really? That’s all he wanted? Medic let out a long pleasured sigh. “Oh, that’s gooood.” He feels like he could potentially hold your tiny heart in a cute little decorated specimen jar but that would kill you, sadly. Can’t have that.
———————————————————————
Spy:
- Has unimaginable amounts of trauma from his father figure and you help him cope with said trauma a lot by being small. He deeply regrets passing by the chance of raising Scout. That in-and-itself was also a traumatic experience for him. Whenever it isn’t romantic lovey dovey adult time you lay in his arms and he looks over your adorable small body with adoration in his eyes.
- He rubs your small cheek and although he’s still frowning like always — you know full well this man is losing his mind on the inside. This was oddly healing for him. He felt butterflies in his chest as he gave you the love that his family never gave him. Jesus christ, somebody get this man a silicone baby or some shit. And a therapist. Mostly a therapist.
- He has no idea how to baby you to be honest. No fucking clue and he isn’t great at this. He does what he’s seen people do before in public. Wrap you in a blanket and pats your back. He says nothing as he does this. “There’s a scared little boy behind that mask isn’t there?” You ask him lovingly.
- He avoids eye contact after you say that. Looking away shamefully. His mouth twitches. You put your head under his chin contently.
- He stalks you and monitors you on the battlefield. Ready to stab the ever living crap out of anyone who overpowers you. In a particularly rough situation with an enemy heavy he risks his own life to backstab the opponent. You batter him for being too bold and exclaim that he could’ve killed himself. But Spy side eyes you, fixing his tie and cloaking away. He was secretly proud of himself that he had finally managed to protect somebody smaller than him. To make up for all the times he wasn’t there for Scout.
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the-s1lly-corner · 5 months
Text
Hugging Dethklok Hcs
depending on how im feeling after posting this i think i might make a second part including side characters (likely the second post will contain charles abigail and knubbler !! and maybe even some smaller characters that i feel deserve more love) anyways uhuhuh first official MTL post except it.. actually isnt, ive written for knubbler and the dethklok minute host before so yeah very nervous about this since im still trying to find my footing in how i wanna write the characters, so heads up that this might be VERY OOC and what better prompt to do than do one of my "i dont know what to write" ones written with reader as their partner vague mentions of like. sexual stuff but nothing explicit, i still wish to keep this blog as sfw as possible, really just implications of it than anything also some characters had bonus hcs of cuddling so uhuhuh
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NATHAN:
built like a mattress, though that can mean anything since not all mattresses are made the same... hmm.. have you ever hugged/cuddled one of those tiny headed kingdom plushies? very firm but not comfortable, i think thats what nathan feels like, but perhaps just a smidge softer. but how would nathan feel? i mean hes very protective of you, and being able to hold you gives him a moment to keep you close. not very affectionate otherwise, but this is nice. definitely the type to do hugs from behind, especially if theres someone trying to flirt with you
PICKLES:
short so theres a good chance youre around his height if not taller and he may or may not feel things about that (both negative and positive but lets save that for another post as i fully intend on keeping this sfw), i always thought pickles of being physically affectionate so him having a hand on you is a common occurrence. probably takes the opportunity to whisper something in your ear, usually something dirty or something incoherent with him being drunk or otherwise under the influence. oh yeah i can easily see him being the type to swing his limbs over his partner while he sleeps and trapping them there
SKWISGAAR:
maybe im cooking something doodoo, but i feel like skwisgaar may or may not struggle with non-sexual stuff, like being purely romantic and innocent with no intent to get your pants off is foreign to him. i whole heartedly believe the reason hes so sexual is due to being in dethklok and being huge, but also because of his mother constantly bringing new people home. so in the beginning he might actually be tense in giving you affection, definitely going to need to take some time. very cold, skinny people tend to be colder ive noticed so totally you shouldnt take this as an excuse to hold him closer (winks)... i DO think he would also have a hand on you a lot of the time like pickles, whether or not those hands have other motives is up in the air
MURDERFACE:
make him take a shower first/j
okay jokes aside, this man is so starved for attention and affection, but he would never ever EVER say it. you guys could be 100% fully alone in bum fuck no where and he still wouldnt say it. but its definitely there in his actions and body language. i think hes warm, and his skin is a little... i mean he canonically has dry skin with eczema, and while i dont have eczema i know what having that dry scaly skin feels like... perhaps we could tie in some self care with the reader helping murderface take better care of himself? i mean it would be one hell of a fight to get him to try but i think its do-able.. tight hugger, kind of lets his arms linger before sliding them down when you eventually pull away. wish i had more but i think murderface is the type to deny affection whilst also deeply craving it
TOKI:
probably the easiest to hug in terms of getting him to accept it, actually i think he might be the most likely to initiate one alongside pickles. very warm, though he sometimes hugs you a little too tight and might even tug you back in if you try to pull away before hes ready. full body cuddles into you when you guys sleep/nap together, arms and legs keep you in place so... good luck trying to slip away before he wakes up. i like to think he fiddles with your hair, too, though im unsure if that fits with his character... i think that, despite still having a love for all things brutal he still likes these smaller moments of just. affection. very clingy and possessive though so keep that in mind, i think he would hold you and physically try to pull you away if someone tries to flirt with you; a lot less subtle than when nathan does it
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ayanominitrash · 6 months
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Act Cool, Senpai! (Geto Suguru x reader)
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₊˚ ♡
Geto-san takes a liking to his cute kouhai, but gets relentlessly cockblocked by an oblivious comrade.
⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖
3rd Entry. First part here. Fourth part here. Masterlist. Or can be read alone if you’re cool like that.
˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖
The walk to the classroom that one morning, though it was short, certainly made you and Geto closer. 
It was evident in the way you’d stop at the classroom and chat with him as you waited for Shoko to collect her things to leave for both of your next classes. Your talks with your senpai were relatively just small talk, or discussions about that book about curses the Juniors take, the subject that Geto particularly liked when he was still taking that class, coincidentally. Sometimes, it’d be just about the weather. Sometimes, it would be Gojo trying to butt in the two of you and talk about Digimon. 
The white-haired senpai of yours sneers at you when you tell him you're not that familiar with it.
No matter how trivial or empty your talks with your friendlier senpai are, you always cherished them (you’re still trying to warm up to Gojo-san though). You especially kept close to your heart that day in the hallways when he walked you to your next class.
“I heard you can do Reverse Cursed Technique. I think that’s really cool.” He tells you, a soft look on his face as he flits his dark eyes down to your height. 
You look away as you feel little butterflies go nuts in your belly. “Ah - y-yes! I know that it’s a rare technique. And before you ask, I can’t exactly put into words how to use it, much like Shoko-san.”
“Hmm, I see. I remember when Shoko tried to explain it to us - her explanation didn’t make any sense but still called us talentless anyway.”
You try to hold back a chuckle behind your hand, “ That does sound like senpai.”
“I’d like to hear you try and explain it though - of what your interpretation is.”
“Ah - haha, I’m not really sure, Geto-san. I think, if you um, focus your, um, curse e-energy and, um…” Flailing your hands while trying to find your words, you almost trip on your own two feet as you walk.
Almost immediately, Geto wraps a hand around your left wrist and the other around your shoulders, stopping your fall. He chuckles at you, still not letting go.
“It’s okay,” He finally says. “I appreciate you trying to express yourself, but you gotta be careful now, you’re a rare gem so we can’t afford you getting hurt.”
A rare gem, you screamed in your head. Geto-san thinks I’m a rare gem.
You look up at him with a sheepish smile, thanking him for helping you. When he’s sure you’re standing upright now, he departs from you, making you miss his warmth and comfort already, and you’re practically blushing at how big his hands and how broad his shoulders are against your smaller self. 
Dear god, please don’t let me faint.
Geto rubs the back of his neck when the both of you round a corner, your destination at the end of the hallway. He doesn’t want to get you in trouble but he does want to talk to you more. So he asks you a question, hoping you’d consider staying with him for a few minutes. “Since you’re close with Shoko and I get to see you every day, I think it’s only right that I get to know about you more. What made you want to be a Jujutsu sorcerer? If it’s alright to ask.”
He doesn’t miss the way you subtly wince at the question. Did he just make a mistake in mentioning what might be a sore subject for you?
“You don’t have to - “
“I want to get to know you more too, Geto-san.” You continue speaking, missing the way your senpai completely freezes beside you. “My story isn’t all that interesting, but I’d love to share it with you at a more uh, less time-constricted, ehr, time. Haha. How about we talk about it more over ice cream? Should we swap numbers so we can inform one another when we’re free?”
You know you’re pushing your luck too far, why would your senior, campus crush, and the 2nd strongest of this generation, want to swap numbers with you? Sure, he said that he’d want to get to know you more, but probably just as friends, as a kouhai, or at the very least, he was just being polite and never really meant it. Your mind repeats this thought all the while Geto is still reeling on what you’re saying.
Meanwhile, Geto thinks you’re braver than him despite your stuttering mess. He didn’t know what he hoped to achieve when we offered to walk you to class. He just wanted the opportunity to learn more about you, talk to you, and keep receiving your cute and sweet smiles. He didn’t think he’d get your number after that. 
You, on the other hand, think you might come by as quite thick-skinned if anyone else would’ve heard you. You don’t care. After all, when will you get this opportunity again?
Geto finally smiles, pulling out his phone, “Of course, I’d like that.”
You feel your shoulders relax at this.
₊˚ ♡
Geto was the first one to text you. He wanted to at least match your braveness in asking for his number and reciprocate it with texting first. Although the both of you haven’t really had the time to go for an ice cream date - ice cream date? Or whatever it is, he’s happy that at least he’d get to interact with you more outside of third period. 
10:04 PM I'm curious what book you guys are reading around this time. 10:10 PM Who’s this? 10:11 PM Guess ツ 
The rest was history.
Well, not really history, he’s very much now in the present, seated and shaking his leg as a result of his anxiety and from the cold as he waits outside of the school campus at 4 am. Today is an important day - a wide range of missions down at the Yokohama arena where multiple sightings of low-level cursed spirits have been reported. Naturally, it would be nothing but a piece of cake for him and Gojo, but seeing how wide the coverage area is and with the limited time they have before the next event to be held at the arena, they will need the help of their juniors.
The heavens would eventually answer his prayers about you coming with them on the mission.
Geto is dedicated to being a sorcerer, and he takes his studies, training, and missions seriously. But he’d have to admit that he’s looking forward to prolonging the mission if it’d mean he’d have more time teaming up with you instead of exorcising curses individually. 
It’d be fine, right? 
He was snapped out of his thoughts when Gojo snuggled deeper on his right side, both of them shaking from the cold together
“Making us wait out in this cold should be abuse,” His taller classmate complains in between his chattering teeth. “Who even wakes up at this hour?” 
“Shoko must be all warm and still sleeping in. Must be nice.” He curls his scarf tighter around his neck and pulls it higher to cover his now reddening nose.
“Yeah, that could’ve still been me too if you’d just let me sleep in for a few more minutes! Look where your punctuality got us, we’re the first ones here!” 
Geto was about to retort when you and your classmates finally strolled in from around the corner, a sign of life.
“Good morning, our seniors!” The brunette, Haibara, bows, followed by you and Nanami. “We’re sorry we’re late.”
Nanami clicks his tongue as the three of you approach them, “The managers aren’t even here yet.” “That’s why you juniors being late won’t be forgiven with just an apology!” Gojo shouted between his shivers, cold air coming out of his lips. “You should do 50 jump squats with your hands holding your ears!”
“Ignore him.” Geto smiles. “How are the three of you?”
While Gojo pouts beside Geto, Haibara enthusiastically takes the seat next to him, “It’s been a while since we last talked, Geto-san! Me and Nanami had been taking missions non-stop.”
“While this one here has been more frequently joining us, which I still think is a bad idea. Maybe you can talk some sense into her, Geto-san.” Nanami says, sideyeing you.
You lightly punch his shoulder, much to his annoyance. “Nanami, you’re so quick to throw me to the wolves.”
Geto raises his brows, finally having an excuse to talk to you directly. “ Is that so? How is that approved by your sensei and the higher-ups? I’m sure they’d treat you just like Shoko - the both of you need to be protected.”
“Well, they’re not exactly always approved - but I want to be able to defend myself if I want to be an on-the-field healer. Especially when Nanami and Haibara go on missions that are much farther from Jujutsu High - I’d want to be able to go with them in case they get injured.”
The raven-head only smiles up at you, silently admiring how you’re nice to look out for your classmates. Suddenly, Gojo grumbles, “But you’d just hold them back.”
“Sorry?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.
“I said you’d just hold them back. They’d got to be distracted every time you joined them on their missions. Right, Nanami?” 
The blond teen doesn’t reply, only averting his eyes when you look up at him. Haibara gives you a nervous look.
“Satoru.” Geto lightly elbows his side.
“Erm, anyway,” The brunette starts, “We all must be cold! How about some warm drinks?”  Gojo pipes, completely ignoring how you’re glaring at him. “Warm cocoa for me, 3 sugar cubes.”
“I’ll go come with.” You tell your classmate.
Much to your surprise, Geto-san rises along with Haibara. “It’s okay, I can buy the drinks instead with - “ He was interrupted when your classmate put a hand on his shoulder, shoving him back down from where he was seated.
“Nonesense, Geto-san! Your kouhais got it from here!”
“No - I insist, I’d be good to stretch my legs since we’ve been - “
“We got it, Geto-san! We’ll be back here before the managers do. 
You throw him an apologetic look and he just deflates his shoulders in defeat, still with a smile on his face. “Alright, please get tea for me then.” 
₊˚ ♡
The day went so much different the way he thought it’d be.
For one, the managers were an hour late. It was apparently due to some paperwork, they needed to file before they departed. Next was the tension between you two and Gojo, he could tell the both of you wouldn’t get along, which was a shame.
When he offered to take the other car with you in place of Gojo (who immediately went berserk at the thought of his classmate leaving him to the two other juniors), Haibara - oh heavens the good-natured kid that he is - insisted “It’s alright, Geto-san! Juniors and Seniors must stick together. If you’re worried about her, don’t be! Nanami and I will make sure she’s safe. See you at the venue!” 
He’s met both Nanami and Haibara beforehand. The four of them with Gojo would often go on missions together if it was urgent. He’s well aware of how bright, kind, and friendly the brunette is - that’s why he’s so fond of him. So he’s not particularly annoyed when Haibara unintentionally shoots down his efforts to spend time with you. 
But he’d be lying if he said he wasn’t mildly irked when Haibara, again, good-naturedly says, “Team up with her? Geto-san, no worries! I’ll look after her. You can focus on exorcising those curses.”
Nanami isn’t so oblivious though, “Haibara, you don’t need to accompany her. These are low-grade curses. She’s more than capable of - .”
“Nonsense, Nanami!”
Geto didn’t get to spend the mission with you after all, and he made sure to take it all out on the minuscule cursed spirits. 
₊˚ ♡ - - - -
Meanwhile. . .
Shoko wakes up to a bunch of text messages from you:
4:30 AM (,,> ᴗ <,,)Geto-san looks so cute 5:06 AM does it make sense they asked us to be here at 4 am then they still not here?? (╥﹏╥) 6:43 AM Geto-san keeps trying to get near me what do you think that means(␦▽␦◦) 8:45 AM i seriously want to punch Haibara he keeps shutting down Geto-san 9:20 AM Didnt get to walk with senpai10:00 AM wake up already ieiri-san!!!!
"Wow," she sighs but has a small smile on her face. "My little kouhai has it bad."
Ieiri-san 10: 38 AM | ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄ ̄| i don't care |______________| \ (• ᴗ •) /
10:39 AM ieiri-san…TᴖT
˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖˖⁺‧₊˚ ♡ ˚₊‧⁺˖
(❀❛ ֊ ❛„)♡ reblogs and comments are appreciated//do not repost my work anywhere
//
The end was cut off because it was getting too long. Will add that to the next part should i even keep going 🤞never planned gojo and reader to have a dynamic so we'll see how this goes lol this week's jjk episode was stellar
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slythereen · 7 months
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i want to discuss how charles is allegedly only 1.5cm shorter than max yet in the photos of them talking to that f4 driver (and on many other occasions), max looks so much taller and broader?? i know charles is a professional athlete and he’s not tiny at all but why does he make himself smaller like that all the time. like what is going on there. just a lot to unpack there psychologically.
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i mean ... okay, with max leaning like he is, i guess an argument can be made for him looking taller. idk about much taller. i was actually just thinking about this recently when i saw something on twitter and now i'm going to go on a wild goose chase trying to remember which exact photo it was about, probably
but in the meantime! since we have so much content to study !!
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charles has his chin tilted up a little bit here, but he actually looks marginally taller. i think, based on google's profiles at least, they're allegedly both 180. i do think max might actually be a wee bit taller, as suggested by evidence #2 (where max is, predictably, leaning again). onwards!
if you look at this other photo from the same moment as evidence #2...
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max looks much taller again, but you can see that charles is learning / has his weight shifted.
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a lot of messy angles here and charles is sitting down/leaning over for some of it, BUT, that lower left hand corner where they are both mostly standing straight and the ✨pretty handshake✨ are both suggesting much closer in height.
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these two mess with me because they look fairly equal in height here... in both. despite max slouching impressively in the second. i can only conclude that charles is slouching more than it looks like he is, bc otherwise idk how to explain the science of that.
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okay so max slouches and charles leans. and then max straightens and charles slouches. ????
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mirroring each other's horrendous posture. okay. still looking roughly the same height. pls straighten up.
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this seems better. max still has a knee bent a bit, so may be slouching a little. charles looks like he's standing straight, finally. max a smidge taller?
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obligatory padel date, because they are conveniently next to each other. both leaning embarrassingly, charles actually looks a bit taller??? but also looks like he is leaning slightly less than max, which would explain it. additional hair floof may also contribute.
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okay but charles is leaning significantly more than max, who looks like he is standing straight. and they appear to be the same height here. which... would mean charles is actually a smidge taller, minus the lean? math is not mathing.
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conclusion: this information is simply information the world does not want us to have. charles isn't as short as people make it seem, i think, he just... slouches? or something??? like i swear sometimes it looks like he's standing straight but i'll see him next to someone i know he is as tall as / taller than (based on other photos) and be like wait. he must he slouching or something.
lbr there is one undisputed fact and it's that max is broader. like... charles isn't really the delicate slender that he gets characterized as, but he is leaner than max methinks. this is clearly important research.
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