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#i guess it helped making me feel good about the art i make today but OH GOSH
doodleodds · 1 year
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Happy Valentines, Akira. Happy Valentines, Asshole.
If you can’t read what Akechi’s secondary inner-dialogue says cause I obscured it too much behind his regular dialogue, here’s a transcription in panel order: Hello, you fucking- Ah- Hello, Akira! Fuck off, why should I tell you- Just a soda- there’s a new flavor.
I don’t want your shitty gift. Oh- haha! You’re so sweet.
I hope I choke. They’re lovely, thank you.
Like hell. Likewise. There’s no way it’s just a coincidence. Still though, it’s a funny coincidence.
#p5#akeshu#akechi goro#kurusu akira#wow- me?? posting a valentines comic... actually on?? valentines????? wack. absolutely wack#it's a short one! I purposefully tried to keep it short. it was a challenge and it still ended up being 3 pages. but i blame my canvas size#also in case u can't see what akira is holding out to akechi: theyre chocolate covered strawberries on sticks!#i saw them irl and was like oh god i want those. i am going to project that feeling on my favorite characters so help me god#and now! here we are! but my shitty-ass coloring & line quality make it hard to discern them so. sorry about that lmaooooo#ANYWAY i don't do enough post-maruki stuff so. i made this one a little bittersweet. :)#why did i put akechi's scarf in a bow? honestly i dont know! i think i saw some art a while ago that did that too and i thought it was cute#well. plus i guess there's the symbolism of 'akechi being alive and reciprocating your feelings (however involuntarily) IS a gift' part#hence that hes wrapped up in a bow. like a present. :)#also god. the first panel is supposed to be akechi's reflection in a vending machine window. I could NOT get it to look right#so for reference!!! just so you guys understand!!!!!! thats what that panel is supposed to be!!! he is NOT in fact a ghost. (sigh)#hope you enjoyed and had a lovely valentines!! for my part i have eaten nothing but sweets today and hoo boy will that have been a mistake#ALSO in terms of the audience-participation comic...hopefully coming soon. if i can ever gain the will to draw it.#but at least tumblr has polls now so i can do the audience-choose-y bit without needing to use a separate website! so thats good i guess#anyway anyway anway thanks for listening to me ramble if you made it this far! have a lovely rest of your day and hopefully see u again soon
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6-2-aestheticsofhate · 5 months
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What's the fucking point
#god i feel like killing myself#just existing is a fucking struggle#whats the point of it#moving into an apartment was supposed to help and it did i fucking guess but i am so drained from trying to survive these past few months#fuck i could hardly bring myself to get out of bed today#i could hardly bring myself to eat#small things keep fucking building up and fuck. fuck. im so fucking tired#im gonna be honest i dont know how much fight i have left in me#i tried so fucking long#i begged and pleaded online for help with just. fucking anything. i was fucking homeless and people rbed my post but i hardly got anything#i feel like my art sucks and its not even good enough for people to pity commission me when i was fucking homeless#i know people did commission me. or donate. and i really appreciate it#but the sheer fact i was open about being homeless and had a whopping... two people either comm or donate me#and id make posts talking about how/why the shelter i was staying at was bad for me#and barely anyone helped#ive spent the past few months being insulted by other people at shelters.#having my fucking abusers show up at one of them#and constantly had people downplay my sadness and mental health issues or physical health issues#even though im not homeless anymore its like theres deep scarring from the fucking. whole goddamn experience#im in so much pain#i keep crying#i cant focus#i can hardly function#ive only eaten one meal today and its 7pm now#i dont think im gonna make it.#personal#vent
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missmonsters2 · 1 year
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—Lips Over Your Nightmares
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Pairing: Wednesday Addams x Fem!Reader/OFC
Summary: You've been having trouble sleeping. Nightmares haunt you every time you close your eyes, and Wednesday offers a solution in the form of comfort only she is capable of.
Warnings: Soft!Wednesday. Possessive!Wednesday. Intimate. Wednesday ran out of patience. Emotionally charged confessions. Kissing. Lots and lots of kissing.
Masterlist | Library Blog | AO3
Reminder there's no taglist but you can follow my library blog for notifications 💘
Note: I said wednesday is soft for her girl and I will take no arguments about it. The act of kissing in this fic is peak wlw. I'm sleeping on the highway tonight and taking you all with me.
Count: 2.6k
Please do not copy, repost, or translate my work anywhere else.
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Nighttime could be hellish.
It was probably why Wednesday adored it so much. 
You loved it too. There was something divine about the nighttime. People feared the dark, but you saw it as an opportunity to rest your weary eyes and bones. The night gave way to being invisible, and there were some days when that was all you could bear to be. 
But to Wednesday Addams, who loved the dark, you could never be invisible to her.
It was a blessing and a curse. 
To be seen by Wednesday—it was something more than many people could ever hope for. 
But to be seen when you wanted to be invisible? It was like being dragged without anything to hold onto. 
Nighttime was hellish, and you wanted to disappear into the dark as your nightmares plagued you until you couldn't even tell what was the dream and what was the reality.
But Wednesday Addams saw you. 
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 
You've missed Enid's late-night studying session again. It's the second week in a row that Enid's gotten a text from you two minutes before the session started.
"I guess we can start," Enid told the group with a disappointed smile. "She's not coming today either."
"Fuck," Xavier sighed. "She's the only one who's good at art restoration. I was hoping she'd help me with my assignment."
Wednesday's face scrunched together mildly, and Xavier rolled his eyes. "Except for you, Wednesday. But you hate teaching me and I hate learning from you."
"I can't help it if you're stupid," Wednesday dully replied. 
"Not all of us can do it perfectly after being told what to do—told only once might I add," Xavier raised his brow at her.
Wednesday shrugged, which only seemed to irk Xavier more and to prevent them from bickering further, Yoko turned to Enid and asked, "Why isn't she coming?"
Enid shrugged, her lips quirked to the side as they pressed together. "She texted to say she wasn't feeling well and couldn't make it."
"She does seem tired lately," Bianca commented, her expression in deep thought as she recalled the last two weeks when she saw you. "Also, really quiet. Well, quieter than she normally is."
There were murmurs of agreement around while Wednesday sat silently. Of course, she also noticed, but she was waiting for you to say something to her. You always told her whatever was plaguing you, even when Wednesday told you she didn't ask. Wednesday was used to hearing your mundane thoughts or solving your problems. 
But there was nothing this time, and Wednesday couldn't figure it out. She tried to think back to see if anything had changed—if something had happened, but there was nothing. 
Two weeks of leaving you be was enough, though, Wednesday decided as she packed her things into her bag.
"What! Wednesday, are you leaving too?" Enid groaned. "But I need help with botanical sciences!" 
"Ask Bianca," Wednesday didn't even look up.
Enid looked at the siren, who had a deceitful, happy smile.
"I'd be happy to help you, Sinclair. Let's talk The Poe Cup negotiations first."
"Absolutely not!" Enid scoffed before turning back to Wednesday with pleading eyes. "Wednesday..." she whined.
"Ask Xavier," Wednesday didn't budge.
"But all he does is draw in class. There's no way he's doing well."
"I'll have you know I'm getting a C," Xavier looked affronted.
Enid merely stared at the sullen boy for a long moment before she turned back to Wednesday. "I'll just wait for you tomorrow after school."
Xavier was about to say something else when Wednesday briskly nodded, standing up and leaving the group behind without another word. 
⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷†⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷ 
It was completely silent on the other side of your door, and from its looks, it was dark as no lights were shining underneath it.
Wednesday knocked in three successions. 
There was no answer. 
If it were anyone else, they would've believed you weren't there and left, but not Wednesday.
No, she knew you far too well. 
This was a place where you could truly be invisible with no roommate.
Wednesday knocked insistently until she heard shuffling, an agitated huff, and footsteps approaching the door. 
The door only opened marginally. You looked mildly surprised to see her, but Wednesday supposed you had too little energy to manage anything more. 
There were dark circles under your eyes, and they looked puffy and slightly red around the edges from lack of sleep. Your skin was pallor, which suited someone like Wednesday, but she decided it was not on you. Your hair lacked its usual shine, and Wednesday's eyes narrowed as she finished scrutinizing you.
"What are you doing here?" You asked quietly. 
"Are you going to just let me stand out here?"
"I'm not in the mood for company, Wednesday," you blinked slowly. 
It was new.
You were usually happy for Wednesday's company whenever she stopped by, and you often visited her dorm. 
"I have had enough of this," Wednesday glared at you through the gap in the door. "You will let me in."
"And if I don't?" You challenged back, and Wednesday almost wanted to applaud the snippy attitude you've mustered through the tiredness.
"Then I will wait out here and ensure you don't get a. Single. Wink. Of. Sleep." It was a threat that tugged at your nerves. You looked at Wednesday, and for a brief moment, she thought she won before you shut the door in her face. 
Disbelief clouded over Wednesday's eyes. 
Then, Wednesday began to knock incessantly over and over on your door. Her knuckles knock with a vengeance, and she'll be damned if you think she doesn't take absolute joy in torturing you. 
It worked because you open the door wider this time, as you stare at Wednesday with a glare.
"What part of 'I'm not in the mood for company' was unclear, Wednesday?" Your voice was gruff, and Wednesday could tell that you were still trying to not snap at her despite how tired you were. 
And that in itself was everything. It was like that all the time. 
You were always trying to be considerate of whatever feelings you thought Wednesday might have while gently pushing her to admit which ones she was truly feeling. 
Maybe that was why Wednesday could never leave you alone now.
You were a gateway to things Wednesday never wanted, and she genuinely thought you should pay for making her desire things she swore she'd never want. 
"Say you don't want my company then," Wednesday said haughtily. 
Wednesday knew you wouldn't—couldn't, even. You never would. 
Just as you were her exception, she was yours. 
You pursed your lip at her, starting to close the door swiftly, and Wednesday stuck her foot partially into your room, preventing you from shutting the door in her face again.
"Wednesday!" You called her name, concerned you might've hurt her when the door hit her foot, but the macabre girl used the opportunity to press her palm flat against your door and pushed it wide open.
She took a step forward menacingly, forcing you to take a step back. She took another step, and you took another one back. When she was inside your room fully, she used the back of her heel to shut your door.
The resounding click of it made you swallow.
"Wednesday," you clenched your jaw, fighting against something you weren't even really sure why. But you were terrified—of her, you don't think, but rather what she was capable of doing to your heart.
"I have been patient," Wednesday's voice is quiet, but her tone is sharp, expressing every bit of her lost tolerance. "I have waited for you silently."
Wednesday kept walking towards you, backing you up until your back bumped into your desk. She looked positively irritated. "I have even refrained from saying a single unkind thing despite them running through my mind at the sight of you moping at whatever has been keeping you up at night."
"How did you know—"
"Do you take me for an idiot?" Wednesday's eyes flashed dangerously at your insinuation. You shook your head.
"Then you must take me for a fool with endless patience," Wednesday glared at you. "I don't take kindly to the kind of games you're playing."
"I'm not playing anything—"
Wednesday cut you off again. "Then explain concisely what has been keeping you up and why you've been keeping it to yourself."
Silence filled the room as you didn't speak, but Wednesday had already waited this long. She could wait a little more. 
Wednesday watched how you gripped the edge of your desk, your finger tapping underneath in rapid succession before you closed your arms over her chest. 
The stance was defensive, but you looked more reluctant than wary.
"I'm having nightmares about you."
The admittance stunned Wednesday, and she didn't know how to take it. Initially, it felt like a compliment because nightmares were so fascinating and exhilarating to experience, and Wednesday hoped to have nightmares every night she slept based on that logic. 
But you were not her. 
Nightmares, illogically, were typically not desirable.
"Wednesday, I—" You swallowed. "I have feelings for you. You're the best and worst part of my days because I actually feel clinically insane everytime I see you, spend time with you and then have to face the fact that you're not mine and I'm not yours."
Wednesday's jaw clenched, and it was noticeable. She wanted to open her mouth and demand how you could feel the exact same way she did, but she kept her mouth shut, waiting for you to continue on. 
"And I have nightmares about losing you," you confessed. "I have nightmares about losing you to Tyler or another deranged supernatural being. I have nightmares about losing you to Xavier or Enid or somebody like Tyler, minus the whole mass genocide. I have nightmares about losing you in every single imaginable way, only to wake up and realize you're not mine, and you can't lose what you don't have."
"I can't tell if the nightmare is when I'm asleep or when I'm awake." You put your hands to your face, laughing hollowly. Tears well up in the back of your eyes, burning as they were so dry from lack of sleep. "I think I'm going crazy."
Wednesday wanted to tell you that going crazy was supposed to be wonderful. But she, herself, has been experiencing the whirlwind of elation and torment you put her through and believed that going crazy wasn't as wonderful as she thought. 
But Wednesday decided then and there that there was no way up from crazy. And while it's unfortunate that she's not the brand of crazy like Uncle Fester, she's been driven mad nonetheless. It's the only thing that could explain all of this and everything that's about to come. 
Wednesday grabbed your wrist, moving your hand away from her face. No visions plague her, and all she knows is that this meant her decision wouldn't end in misfortune and it wouldn't drive her down a lonely path. 
"Enid's not expecting me back tonight," Wednesday told you as she dragged you over to your bed. Her succinct tone leaves no room for you to ask any questions. 
"Um, okay?" You said anyway, thrown off by her response and feeling exhaustion saw at your bones, dragging the invisible knife back and forth.
Wednesday guided you to get into bed, and you complied. Resignation settled over you as you rested your head on your pillow. It was cold again with you being away from it, but it brought no comfort. 
You lay facing the wall, about to pull the blanket up to your chin, when you heard something drop against the floor. You turned your head and saw that Wednesday had set her backpack down, and now she was zipping off her sweater, hanging it on the pole of your bed frame, leaving her in her black long-sleeve.
Wednesday took her shoes off before using every bit of her vulnerability to steadily and carefully climb into bed with you. It was dark, with only a little light from the moonlight shining just barely into the room, and you could make out the barest hint of her features and knew she was staring intently at you, trying to ascertain if this was a boundary both of you could bear to cross. 
Her touch was slow and hesitant, revealing this was something she's never done before, but the moment you were in her arms, you clicked into place like a puzzle piece. 
Wednesday was cool against your body, but she was warming from your touch and shared heat trapped under the blanket. She smelt like rain and dry leaves, and you felt like you were going insane. You buried your face into her neck. 
Wednesday wrapped her arms around you, holding you close, allowing the things she's been desiring for a while to come to fruition. She couldn't tell if this was making her saner or driving her closer to insanity.
It was deliriously pleasant.
"Who said you're not mine?" Wednesday muttered into the shell of your ear.
It's suddenly not enough, and Wednesday now knew the answer was that it was driving her closer to insanity. 
Wednesday pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes that were so tired just moments ago. The dark circles remained, but you were wide awake, speckles of oblivion in your eyes.
Despite how everything else changed as you became sleep deprived, your lips still remained full and soft. 
Wednesday moved to close the gap, sighing softly as her lips slanted against yours. 
How could she feel like jagged glass, splintered and sharp, while you felt so soft, practically melting around her serrated edges?
Wednesday only pulled back marginally, cupping your jaw and the back of your neck. "Who told you that you don't already have me? I want names."
You couldn't even think straight with how her breath felt on your lips. You pushed forward again, pressing your lips against Wednesday's insistently.
Was it possible for reality to be better than a dream? 
Your lips slotted over Wednesday's over and over and over. Wednesday tugged at your bottom lip, smoothing over it with her tongue before it dipped at the edge of your mouth where your tongue met hers. 
It was dizzying, something that frequently happened to Wednesday when it was too warm. She usually hated the sensation of it, but, of course, as many things were exceptions when it came to you, this was one of them too. 
"Your nightmares are inane."
You couldn't help but laugh against Wednesday's lip. 
"I think I am actually insane," you grinned, and you saw a ghost of something similar on Wednesday's lips. 
"Sleep," Wednesday ordered you, kissing you chastely initially but ending up biting your bottom lip tenderly. Her hands pull you closer, her lips resting on your forehead. "I'm here, so nothing will plague you."
The softness of Wednesday is unimaginable, and you're nearly skeptical.
"But—"
"No." Wednesday countered bluntly. "I'm telling you that I'm here and yours. You may come to regret it, knowing how...difficult I am. But you're stuck with me. Congratulations," Wednesday tilts her head slightly, brushing against yours, "or condolences."
But you could hear Wednesday's heartbeat, and it was dark, and you were so tired, but you were close enough to hear Wednesday's heartbeat. 
Your lips tingle from Wednesday's kisses. You felt your eyelids grow heavy along with your body, and the way Wednesday shifted told you she was satisfied.
Nighttime could be hellish, but Wednesday Addams saw you—she always would. And all she had to do was put her lips over your nightmares.
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glowwithsophia · 30 days
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The Subtle Art of Becoming "That Girl" in 2024 🌸✨
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Hello beautiful souls! It's me, Sophia. If you are new reader then
Hi! I’m Sophia and I want to empower women to prioritize their well-being while pursuing their dreams🌟
Today, I woke up feeling extra inspired by the #thatgirl aesthetic. You know her – she's the girl who embodies self-love, radiates positivity, and just seems to have her life beautifully organized. Personally, I believe, she's not just a trend; she's a movement towards becoming the best version of ourselves. And guess what? Becoming "that girl" isn't about perfection; it's about progress. It's about embracing the journey of self-improvement, self-care, and love. So, let's dive into a few ways you can bring a little bit of "that girl" magic into your everyday life:
1. Morning Rituals ✨
Start your day with purpose. Whether it's a morning skincare routine, meditation, or writing down your thoughts in a daily planner, find what centers you. If you have been following me for a while then you know how important this is. Remember, it's these small rituals that set the tone for a productive, positive day.
2. Self-Care Sundays 🛁
Dedicate time each week to pamper yourself. This could be a long bath, a skincare routine, or even a cozy evening with a book. It's all about showing yourself some love and appreciation.
I remember back in my childhood my older sister used to always have pamper sundays and I would always try and follow her footsteps however, back then your girl was as lazy as one can be...so zero exceptions. Be better than me girls and make the future you be proud.
3. Clean Girl Aesthetic 🌿
Embrace the clean girl aesthetic with a minimalist wardrobe, clean makeup looks, and a tidy space. A clutter-free environment not only looks good but also brings a sense of calm and order to your mind. Clean home = clean mind + remember clean body
4. Find Your Fitness Love 💕
Whether it's pink pilates, yoga, or a brisk walk in the park, find a physical activity that you love. It's not just about the physical benefits but the mental clarity and energy boost it brings.
5. Nourish to Flourish 🍓
Eating well is a form of self-respect. Fill your plate with colors, textures, and nutrients. It's not just about looking good, but feeling good from the inside out.
6. Learn and Grow 🌱
Embrace new hobbies, read more books, and challenge yourself to learn something new often. Growth is a huge part of becoming "that girl".
7. Stay Organized 📒
Invest in a good daily planner to keep track of your goals, appointments, and to-dos. There's something incredibly satisfying about ticking off tasks and staying on top of your game.
And here's a little secret for you: part of my "that girl" journey includes creating pieces that speak to my soul. I stumbled upon this adorable Etsy shop aka my Etsy Shop [GlowInGrow] that just screams self-care and love. My THAT GIRL planner is something that I did with love and my own hands. For me, it's not just a planner, it's my way of helping others because that's what being her is. Being her means she shares her secrets to help the rest of the girlies. MESSAGE ME FOR THE PROMO CODE *hint*
Also this planner has got you covered from setting your intentions and tracking your habits to planning your meals and self-care routines perfect for anyone looking to add that extra touch of mindfulness and beauty to their daily routine. It's subtle, but oh, so beautiful. 🌟
AND REMEMBER;
Becoming "that girl" isn't an overnight transformation. It's about making small, meaningful changes that align with who you are and who you aspire to be. Let's embrace this journey together, one step at a time. 💕
Last but not least, at the end of your journey of becoming that girl awaits the future who is The Girl!
Stay safe and stay hot...
With Love, Sophia
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mitsies · 11 months
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thinking about high-school!gojo today.....
he’s top of his classes, a-list student, and everyone knows him. people across campus gossip about his latest romances and grades and all— he’s an open book. and a new york time’s best seller, apparently.
gojo is specifically notorious for his position as top student at your prestigious school. only the best from the best lineage, it seems. in graded discussions, he’s viciously tearing down others’ points. he disagrees with the teacher. makes jokes that make the whole class laugh. has been responsible for at least 3 faculty members’ quitting. all this, and he’s still failing art. sculpture class, to be exact.
it’s an elective both he and you have been forced into; you’re a lot happier about it than him, it seems. because he always complains. loudly. and he sucks at art, quite frankly.
it's plain to see that the boy has never even drawn a portrait in his life. he's got two right hands and he's left-handed, it looks like, that's how bad he is. and even worse is the fact that he's got no friends in this class; everyone's a stranger. which is probably why he resorts to bothering you.
you like to think you're a strong person, of mind and of being. but your resolve to being kind crumbles as soon as gojo opens his big fat mouth.
you see why people like him. he can be funny. he's good at lots of things (arts not included) and sometimes, only sometimes, does he have something valuable to say. but mostly, you find gojo satoru to be a nuisance.
working on your projects is made incredibly difficult when 6 feet of pure frustration is bitching right next to you. "this clay," he'd complain, "it's gotta be broken. it's not working."
you try to ignore him, you really do. him and his inane excuses, and empty commentary. and for the most part, he disregards you right back. he looks through you, sometimes. sometimes. that is, until the teacher pulls him aside a few weeks before the end of the school year and he comes back more stone-faced and scared than you've ever seen him. he's quiet for longer than you've known possible and you're surprised to find that you kind of miss hearing his voice.
he doesn't really say much, and class lets out, and you go on with your life like normal. but there's an itch in the back of your mind, and it sounds like his name over and over and you can't quite get it out of your head. not until the next day, when you see him again- 2nd period sculpture class, 9 o'clock in the morning.
and this time, he looks right at you.
"you're really good at this whole sculpture thing." he's making a statement, not asking a question. you blink and realise that this is the very first time he's spoken to you, directly. he was complimenting you in a way- on what? does this mean he's seen you? all this time you presumed he stared straight through, blue eyes burning holes through your skull. maybe, just maybe, he's been looking at you the whole time. you're not sure how to reply so you just nod, "i guess."
"i," he says the next words like he's choking on glass and you see his adam's apple bob (his skin is so pale; translucent. you think it'd be cold to the touch,) "need help."
you almost feel bad. he looks like a cat that just got soaked in water. pitiful. playing dumb, though you know exactly what he means, you tilt your head innocently. "help with what?"
he grimaces. you bite the inside of your cheek to stop a smile from spreading like wildfire.
"this class."
"oh? what about it?"
he dramatically slumps against the desk, knocking over the boy in front of him's water bottle. he doesn't bother picking it up. "sculpting. art. everything."
"i thought you were good at everything, though."
that might've been too far, because he looks at you again. he really, really looks. and you think he sees you. because he smiles, "my reputation precedes me. i'm so famous, aren't i?"
"i guess you are," you concede, allowing an edge of amusement to lighten your tone. he is still looking at you. he does not break eye contact. it makes your stomach churn with something sickeningly alive, something abhorrently beautiful.
"then it should be your honour to help me out or something, yeah?"
it should be. it will be. you could let it be.
"i'm pretty busy. sorry."
he blinks at you. you turn away. why did you say no? you didn't want to. but then again, you'd prefer to be away from him and his life- lavish, elegant, mansions and stars and cameras and glamour- you have homework to do.
you think that, after this, gojo satoru will leave you be.
he does not.
in fact, you think it gets worse.
if he wasn't talking to you much at all before, it's all he does now. he sits in your seat before class starts, getting there before you, waiting for you. chats your ears off, too, when you try to get work done. and he always ends up bringing up that proposal again- to help tutor him in sculpture, or give him pointers, or whatever, you try to tune him out.
you wonder why he only asks you. there's plenty of much more talented, much more friendly students in your class. ones that'd say yes. but he only asks you. you think he knew it was only a matter of time before you gave in. that was what he was banking on, probably. all it took was two weeks worth of asking, talking non-stop, and basically borderline begging. and you folded.
..which, is how you find yourself in the art room, after-hours, sitting next to gojo satoru and a pottery wheel as he helplessly squishes the miserable and miserly beginnings of yet another deformed clay pot.
"you can do it," you encourage rather dryly. he shoots you a look. "great acting."
"sorry. i'm trying my best here."
his hands are covered in wet clay, so when he wipes his brow he uses his forearm. the crewneck he wears is pulled up and pale, pale skin glows a wintery shade. you tear your eyes away. "and i am too! but it isn't working!"
you frown. he really is bad at this- ignoring all your direct pointers and advice. you've told him what he needs to fix; be gentle, go slowly, be patient, patient, patient. all that has gone in one ear and out the other.
you really dread what you're about to do. but you want to help him save his grade in this class, because gojo satoru was not gojo satoru without his 4.0 gpa. so, bracing yourself, feeling a tight, tight knot in your stomach, you ghost your hands over his on the wheel and hold on, shadowing them. a guide.
his skin is cold, you were right. big hands, bigger than yours, they feel good and frigid beneath your touch; like they were made for you, sculpted to your touch. you feel his breathing stall before he starts rambling again.
his words move fast, but not faster than his heartbeat, which you feel in his wrist. you'd be dizzy with the proximity if you weren't so focused on making something. it's almost magic, how 2 pairs of hands come together to make something- a small pot, spinning on the wheel.
it's a little lopsided and wonky looking but it's far, far better than anything gojo's accomplished. he goes quiet. "wow," he says, so so hushed you almost don't catch it. you know he's not talking about the pot.
"i told you that you could do it."
his hands break away from the wheel, leaving the clay formation and pulling your hands away, too. they're in his, still, and covered in a think muddy-coloured sludge of slip. but he holds them.
"you have something on your face," you exhale after a beat of silence. because he does; a dash of clay, marking the expanse of skin on his cheek. just below his lip. he smiles and a dimple creases his pretty, pretty face.
"yeah? why don't you get it for me?"
you blink. "my hands are filthy. i'd make it worse."
"do you think i care?"
you're surprised your hands are steady, a sculptor's hands, as you wipe away the drying residue of slip. it crumbles and flakes off his cheek, but your thumb brushes his lip and you feel him freeze before grinning wider and pulling away. you miss his cold. you feel a bit too hot all over, now.
"it's all over your face now," you inform him, snapping your gaze away to hide your embarrassment. he doesn't look away. he looks at you, he looks at you, he looks at you. like he likes you, a little bit.
"we can deal with that after the lesson, yeah?"
you expect him to sound different than he does, when he says this. you expect his voice to be full of ego and confidence, like usual. boisterous, louder than life. but he's quieter. almost like he's shy. you turn back, and you see the way he watches you. like you're precious, like you're fleeting and rare and the most beautiful, beautiful piece of art he's ever seen.
"okay," you say, "okay. sure."
his grin is worth a million dollars and his boyish confidence returns after the lapse of shyness; "awesome!"
promptly after, he moves to go back to the clay pot. in his excitement, he squishes it into a lump again.
"awesome," you sign, resigned. but you can't find it in yourself to be mad. you like him too much for that.
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jennamoran · 3 months
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The Far Roofs: Systems
Hi!
Today I’m going to talk a little bit more about my forthcoming RPG, the Far Roofs. More specifically, I want to give a general overview of its game mechanics!
So the idea that first started the Far Roofs on the road to being its own game came out of me thinking a lot about what large projects feel like.
I was in one of those moods where I felt like the important thing in an RPG system was the parallel between that system and real-world experience. Where I felt like the key to art was always thinking about the end goal, or at least a local goal, as one did the work; and, the key to design was symmetry between the goals and methods, the means and ends.
I don't always feel that way, but it's how I work when I'm feeling both ambitious and technical.
So what I wanted to do was come up with an RPG mechanic that was really like the thing it was simulating:
Finding answers. Solving problems. Doing big things.
And it struck me that what that felt like, really, was a bit like ...
You get pieces over time. You wiggle them around. You try to fit them together. Sometimes, they fit together into larger pieces and then eventually a whole. Sometimes you just collect them and wiggle them around until suddenly there's an insight, an oh!, and you now know everything works.
The ideal thing to do here would probably be having a bag of widgets that can fit together in different ways---not as universally as Legos or whatever, but, like, gears and connectors and springs and motors and whatever. If I were going to be building a computer game I would probably think along those lines, anyway. You'd go to your screen of bits and bobs and move them around with your mouse until it hooked together into something that you liked.
... that's not really feasible for a tabletop RPG, though, at least, not with my typical financial resources. I could probably swing making that kind of thing, finding a 3d printing or woodworking partner or something to make the pieces, for the final kickstarter, but I don't have the resources to make a bunch of different physical object sets over time while I'm playtesting.
So the way I decided that I could implement this was by drawing letter tiles.
That I could do a system where you'd draw letter tiles ... not constantly, not specifically when you were working, but over time; in the moments, most of all, that could give you insight or progress.
Then, at some point, you'd have enough of them.
You'd see a word.
That word'd be your answer.
... not necessarily the word itself, but, like, what the word means to you and what the answer means to you, those would be the same.
The word would be a symbol for the answer that you've found, as a player and a character.
(The leftover letters would then stick around in your hand, bits of thought and experience that didn't directly lead to a solution there, but might help with something else later on.)
Anyway, I figured that this basic idea was feasible because, like, lots of people own Scrabble sets. Even if you don't, they're easier to find than sets of dice!
For a short indie game focused on just that this would probably have been enough of a mechanic all on its own. For a large release, though, the game needed more.
After thinking about it I decided that what it wanted was two more core resolution systems:
One, for stuff like, say ... kickstarter results ... where you're more interested in "how well did this do?" or "how good of an answer is this?" than in whether those results better fit AXLOTL or TEXTUAL. For this, I added cards, which you draw like letter tiles and combine into poker hands. A face card is probably enough for a baseline success, a pair of Kings would make the results rather exciting, and a royal flush result would smash records.
The other core system was for like ... everyday stuff. For starting a campfire or jumping a gap. That, by established RPG tradition, would use dice.
...
I guess technically it didn't have to; I mean, like, most of my games have been diceless, and in fact we've gotten to a point in the hobby where that's just "sort of unusual" instead of actually rare.
But, like, I like dice. I do. If I don't use them often, it's because I don't like the empty page of where to start in the first place building a bespoke diced system when I have so many good diceless systems right there.
... this time, though, I decided to just go for it.
--
The Dice System
So a long, long time ago I was working on a game called the Weapons of the Gods RPG. Eos Press had brought me in to do the setting, and somewhere in the middle of that endeavor, the game lost its system.
I only ever heard Eos' side of this, and these days I tend to take Eos' claims with a grain of salt ... but, my best guess is that all this stuff did happen, just, with a little more context that I don't and might not ever know?
Anyway, as best as I remember, the first writer they had doing their system quit midway through development. So they brought in a newer team to do the system, and halfway through that the team decided they'd have more fun using the system for their own game, and instead wrote up a quick alternate system for Weapons of the Gods to use.
This would have been fine if the alternate system were any good, but it was ... pretty obviously a quick kludge. It was ...
I think the best word for it would be "bad."
I don't even like the system they took away to be their own game, but at least I could believe that it was constructed with love. It was janky but like in a heartfelt way.
The replacement system was more the kind of thing where if you stepped in it you'd need a new pair of shoes.
It upset me.
It upset me, and so, full wroth, I decided to write a system to use for the game.
Now, I'd never done a diced system before at that point. My only solo game had been Nobilis. So I took a bunch of dice and started rolling them, to see ... like ... what the most fun way of reading them was.
Where I landed, ultimately, was looking for matches.
The core system for Weapons of the Gods was basically, roll some number of d10s, and if you got 3 4s, that was a 34. If you got 2 9s, that was a 29. If your best die was a 7 and you had no pairs at all, you got 1 7. 17.
It didn't have any really amazing statistical properties, but the act of rolling was fun. It was rhythmic, you know, you'd see 3 4s and putting them together into 34 was a tiny tiny dopamine shot at the cost of basically zero brain effort. It was pattern recognition, which the brain tends to enjoy.
I mean, obviously, it would pall in a few minutes if you just sat there rolling the dice for no reason ... but, as far as dice rolling goes, it was fun.
So when I went to do an optional diced system for the Chuubo's Marvelous Wish-Granting Engine RPG, years later, to post here on tumblr ... I already knew what would make that roll fun. That is, rolling a handful of dice and looking for matches.
What about making it even more fun?
... well, critical results are fun, so what about adding them and aiming to have a lot of them, though still like rare enough to surprise?
It made sense to me to call no matches at all a critical failure, and a triple a critical success. So I started fiddling with dice pool size to get the numbers where I wanted them.
I'm reconstructing a bit at this point, but I imagine that I hit 6d10 and was like: "these are roughly the right odds, but this is one too many dice to look at quickly on the table, and I don't like that critical failure would be a bit more common than crit success."
So after some wrestling with things I wound up with a dice pool of 5d6, which is the dice pool I'm still using today.
If you roll 5d6, you'll probably get a pair. But now and then, you'll get a triple (or more!) My combinatorics is rusty, so I might have missed a case, but, like ... 17% of the time, triples, quadruples, or quintuples? And around 9% chance, for no matches at all?
I think I was probably looking for 15% and 10%, that those were likely my optimum, but ... well, 5d6 comes pretty close. Roughly 25% total was about as far as I thought I could push critical results while still having them feel kind or rare. Like ...
If I'm rolling a d20 in a D&D-like system, and if I'm going to succeed on an 18+, that's around when success is exciting, right? Maybe 17+, though that's pushing it? So we want to fall in the 15-20% range for a "special good roll." And people have been playing for a very long time now with the 5% chance of a "1" as a "special bad roll," and that seemed fine, so, like, 20-25% chance total is good.
And like ...
People talk a lot about Rolemaster crit fail tables in my vicinity, and complain about the whiff fests you see in some games where you keep rolling and rolling and nothing good or bad actually happens, and so I was naturally drawn to pushing crit failure odds a bit higher than you see in a d20-type game.
Now, one way people in indie circles tend to address "whiff fests" is by rethinking the whole dice-rolling ... paradigm ... so you never whiff; setting things up, in short, so that every roll means something, and every success and failure mean something too.
It's a leaner, richer way of doing things than you see in, say, D&D.
... I just didn't feel like it, here, because the whole point of things was to make dice rolling fun. I wanted people coming out of traditional games to be able to just pick up the dice and say "I'm rolling for this!" because the roll would be fun. Because consulting the dice oracle here, would be fun.
So in the end, that was the heart of it:
A 5d6 roll, focusing on the ease of counting matches and the high but not exorbitant frequency of special results.
But at the same time ...
I'm indie enough that I do really like rolls where, you know, every outcome is meaningful. Where you roll, and there's never a "whiff," just a set of possible meaningful outcomes.
A lot of the time, where I'm leaning into "rolls are fun, go ahead and roll," what it means to succeed, to fail, to crit, all that's up to the group, and sometimes it'll be unsatisfying. Other times, you'll crit succeed or crit fail and the GM will give you basically the exact same result as you'd have gotten on a regular success or failure, just, you know, jazzing up the description a bit with more narrative weight.
But I did manage to pull out about a third of the rolls you'll wind up actually making and assign strong mechanical and narrative weight to each outcome. Where what you were doing was well enough defined in the system that I could add some real meat to those crits, and even regular success and regular failure.
... though that's a story, I think, to be told some other time. ^_^
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amyispxnk · 2 months
Text
My Kind of Woman
Chapter 1: Special.
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Series Masterlist
Series summary - Your song captivates Joel the second he hears you that night in Jackson, but he struggles to work up the courage to confess his feelings. With some (very heavy) encouragement from Ellie and Tommy, you two get closer and closer until he finally thinks he’s ready.
Chapter summary - You and Joel finally sit down together after a year of stolen glances.
A/N: OH MY GOD IT’S BEEN SO LONG SINCE I’VE WRITTEN A FIC I MISSED IT SM. Let’s all collectively pray that I actually finish this series, btw. It kind of just came to me earlier today and I barely have anything planned but.. you know me by now.
Pairing: Joel Miller x f!reader
Word count: 1.6k
Warnings: alcohol, light language, (kind of) fluff, nothing much really in this chapter
DO NOT COPY THIS FIC IN ANY WAY PLS AND TY.
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“Come on man. We’ve been here for almost two years and you still haven’t made any friends. I see how you look at her- just say something! It is actual torture having to watch you dance around people like this.” Ellie groans dramatically, trying to kick some sense into the man who sits across from her. Joel just grunts, continuing to eat his stew as she looks blankly at him. “She’s nice enough.” She adds after a moment, trying to get him to say something.
After more silence, she speaks again with an exaggerated sigh, “I guess I’ll just go talk to her then, tell her that my old man has a big, fat crush on her. Maybe then you two can-” her smirk falters when Joel interrupts her.
“Don’t you dare go doin’ that,” he grumbles “Y’ gon’ make me look stupid-”
“So you talk to her then! Stop moping around all the time.” Ellie concludes, before standing up and saying goodbye, going to clear her tray and giving him a look before leaving the mess hall.
Joel watches her go before closing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. First, Tommy was on his ass about making some friends - “You’re scarin’ people, y’know. Givin’ everyone death stares when you walk around, being so.. withdrawn all the time. It’d do ya some good,” he’d told Joel one evening at the Tipsy Bison - and now Ellie was too. And, knowing Ellie, that kid wouldn’t be as patient, probably already concocting some sort of plan to force you and Joel together.
As he leans his head back and mulls over his options, he looks out the window. Of course you’re out there, playing with the kids of Jackson. You’re one of the most popular people in Jackson, always being friendly and knowing just about everyone.
..Except him, of course. You’ve had some small chats with him, but you never really see him. He sees you though, having been.. observing you for the past year, keeping his distance - being respectful, in his eyes, being a wuss, in Ellie’s - and he knows enough about you to know that he probably has no chance with you.
You’re funny, sweet, fucking stunning, and he’s seen multiple guys try to approach you at the bar. Younger, more attractive guys. Mainly, you help teach kids things like art and music at the Jackson school, and you also do patrols a few times a week. On some nights you also sing at the Tipsy Bison when there are events and dances. The band will play, often with you as the lead singer. He always makes sure he’s there when you are.
The first time he saw you was on one of his very first nights in the Tipsy Bison. Tommy had dragged him along, Ellie going too, with promise of a fun night.
He came mainly to keep an eye on Ellie and to get some alcohol in his system, not expecting anything ‘fun’ to happen. Boy, was he wrong.
It had been around half an hour of him nursing his whiskey in the corner of the room when you came onto stage, million-dollar smile on your face as you spoke into the microphone.
“Good evening, Jackson!” You began, already getting a loud cheer from the crowd of people there that night. “It’s great to be singin’ for you again, you know I missed ya! Now, tonight, we got a few songs lined up, but this first one is a special request from Mister Tommy Miller over there!” You had said, pointing over to Tommy who was sitting with Joel, the younger brother grinning widely at you.
The band started and you began to sing one of Joel’s favourite songs from before the outbreak - somehow, it sounded even better in your voice. Joel glared at Tommy when he realised what he had done, and Tommy just shrugged before looking back at you. He couldn’t stay mad at him though, because by the end of it he was entranced by the sweet melody of your voice and how gorgeous you looked singing your heart out under the lights.
You were beaming at the audience after finishing as they showered you with applause, though it took Joel a second to actually start clapping and stop staring at you.
He tried denying it, but, as cheesy as it sounds, it was love at first sight for him.
It scared him, definitely. It had barely been a year since he lost Tess, and although he wouldn’t go as far as saying they were in love, it was the closest thing he’d had to it in decades. To think he even liked you from just hearing you sing one song.. that fucking terrified him.
Which is why he kept his distance for so long. He didn’t know what to do with himself when he realised he actually liked you. He hadn’t had any sort of connection other than Ellie and Tommy in so long, and they were his family. You, though.. you were so different.
He sighed deeply before opening his eyes again, finishing his meal as he watched you smile and laugh in the snow through the window.
A week later, Tommy manages to convince Joel to come to the Tipsy Bison again, promising ‘no funny business’ to go on. Joel isn’t sure he’d really mind.
Time goes by quietly, a simple Monday afternoon not having much going on for them, but then you turn up. He sees you as soon as you walk through the doors, an unfamiliar tiredness in your eyes. It looks like you’ve been on a long patrol.
You look around before noticing Tommy and Joel, walking over with a small smile.
Joel stares daggers at Tommy. “You said no funny business,” he grits, a strange panic flooding his system. Did he brush his hair this morning? Do his clothes look tidy? Did he have anything in his teeth?
“Ain’t no funny business here, brother.” Tommy grins at him, not giving him a chance to reply as you get to their table.
“Hi Tommy!” You smile, hugging him before turning to Joel. “And Joel! It’s so great to see you!”
Joel blinks at you. Fuck, you’re talking to him. He needs to say something back.
“Yeah, you too.” He mumbles, clearing his throat awkwardly.
If you pick up on his discomfort, you don’t mention it, looking around before continuing.
“Are y’all stayin’?” You ask, now leaning forward a little with your palms on the table.
“As far as I’m concerned.” Tommy replies, to which you nod. “Y’ wouldn’t mind if I sit with ya, then?” You ask.
“Not at all, darlin’.” He says, and you slide into the booth with them, starting up a conversation about what you did today, mentioning that draining patrol you just got back from.
“I’m tellin’ ya - morning patrols are like hell on earth, Tommy. ‘S not fair to be makin’ us go out at 6 am.” You groan, to which he smiles. “Nothin’ a little coffee can’t fix.” Tommy replies, which makes you perk up.
“You have coffee? Since when?” You gasp, wide-eyed at him.
“New trade opened, and since Joel here is such an addict, we got our hands on some.” He gestures to Joel, and you look over at him, a smile creeping onto your face.
“I see.. being Tommy’s brother has its perks then? Got you hoarding all the coffee for yourself?” You tease, to which Joel chuckles quietly at, sitting up a little taller.
“Not hoardin’. Nobody else has asked for any.” He tells you, looking into your eyes and trying not to get lost in them for too long.
“And if I wanted some?” You say, tilting your head sideways slightly as it rests on your palm.
“Y’ always welcome to come get some, sweetheart.” He isn’t sure what possessed him to use the pet name with you, but he’s very thankful for it as a soft crimson paints your cheeks and you bite your lip to stop yourself from grinning like an idiot. “Well, thank you.” You reply, before a man comes over to get you your drink. “Whiskey, neat please.” You tell him and he goes off to get it. Joel is pleasantly surprised by your choice. He never really thought about what you might order from the bar, but the fact that you shared the same drink of choice made you even more attractive in his eyes.
2 hours later, Tommy had gone off to handle an issue with the council and you and Joel had been talking and drinking and laughing. It’s around 3 now and he barely realises in time for his afternoon patrol, finishing off his whiskey before telling you, noticing the slight sadness that appears on your face at him having to go.
“Oh! Alright then. I’ll see you around. Have a good patrol, Joel.” You smile at him, and he offers you a small smile back.
“See ya ‘round.” He says before leaving and going back to the stables.
Later that evening, Ellie somehow figures out what went down earlier at the bar (Joel’s already planning on giving Tommy a talking to tomorrow) and makes fun of him endlessly for it, saying that he was apparently so shy when he was talking with you.
“I’d have never thought that someone could make the big, bad Joel all nervous and flustered, but she just continues to prove me wrong. She’s definitely special, huh.” Ellie grins, before bidding Joel goodnight and leaving him with his thoughts.
He hated to admit it, but Ellie was right in saying that. You were special.
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Tysm for reading, I hope you enjoyed! Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated! 💞
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taiyeoki · 3 months
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𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐍𝐀 𝐁𝐄 𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐌𝐌𝐘? | 𝐊𝐀𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐌𝐎
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↳ Kashimo + Reader
Genre . Smut
Warning . 🔞Minors do not interact | Contains breeding/impregnation, face fucking, nipple play, fingering, cancelled orgasm
Synopsis . Kashimo doesn't always show vulnerable emotions but when a man comes around fancying you, his wife, that wall comes crashing down with the simplest jealousy. Now he just wants to fuck you till tomorrow. Maybe putting a baby in you will make sure you're his.
A/N . This was supposed to be finished way sooner but I got too caught up with some other work, causing me to sleep at 4-5am for weeks straight and it physically affected me so I got body ache and inflammation. Turns out I got covid. And then afterwards, which is currently, I'm focusing a lot on art lmao.
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You had no plans today but to lay around on the couch all day long. Kashimo didn't mind since he's used to the woman staying at home during his time period anyway. The only difference now though is that you weren't even doing any chores. He never forced you to do them though, but seeing you sprawled out on the couch with a bag of chips next to you had him pushing you to get up.
Which is why you were here now, going into stores around the city. No way is Kashimo Hajime going to let his wife laze around all day. He cared about his wife's wellbeing and he knew the negative effects of being cooped up at home. However, this time he wasn't one bit pleased at all. He just regrets taking you out in the first place.
Your husband held a scowl on his face. He always looked fierce to begin with but this was different. You could feel his stare boring holes into the back of your head.
Going to the counter to order takeaways, the cashier held a rather innocent looking expression. The bright smile and friendly service wasn't fooling Kashimo though. He knew the cash register's true intentions weren't just to serve you.
"That'll be $15.70 ma'am," the man's smile widened in an attempt to be 'friendly'. It felt so disgustingly fake to your husband though. You replied with a polite "thank you," as you took your food, smiling in return but Kashimo saw how he purposely brushed his hand onto yours when serving you your order. He knew that you were too kind for your own good so it wasn't your fault for reciprocating the polite gesture but it pissed him off how anyone would try to fancy his wife.
Unfortunately for him, the cashier initiated a little conversation with you.
"I hope you enjoy your food. You've got great taste based on what you ordered. As expected from a woman such as yourself," his eyes darkened with intent staring at your frame, the smile he held wasn't going to fool Kashimo though.
"Do you come here often? I would love to help serve you again," his tongue darts out to lick his lips, almost as if he's moistening his lips to prolong more conversation.
"Oh, thank you. I guess I'm starting to become a usual customer here huh?" Chuckling, you replied noticing that you do come here more often than you think, appreciative of his kind offer.
"Great! That gives me even more reason to come to work," he laughs a bit at his joke but keeps his eyes on you. It was even more apparent now that he's leaning closer to you, close enough that he could take in your sweet scent which was supposed to be reserved for Kashimo only.
"Aren't you here to do your job? Or are you being paid to flirt with customers?" A smooth, velvety voice cuts in. Kashimo swiftly moves in front of you before you can pay for the food. He wasn't going to let this man touch you a second time, dropping the cash on the cashier's hands without even an inch of being near him so he wouldn't have to touch this 'thing'.
"T-thank you. You must be—"
"Her husband," Kashimo scoffed, a smug smile tugged on his lips handsomely. His agile movements snaked his arms around your waist, wrapping you right next to him to show who exactly you belong to.
Kashimo's presence only made the man look smaller than he was with your husband's dominating height towering over him. At least he wasn't dumb knowing how much more muscular your husband is compared to the guy working behind the counter trying to flirt with a married woman. His eyes zero in on Kashimo's strong hold on the small of your back and it was clear how possessive he got. You aren't bothered, leaning into Kashimo to envelope yourself in his comforting scent. The sight only made the man nervous with fear. He knew you were taken seeing from the beautiful blue ring that decorated your soft finger, both you and Kashimo having matching rings. Just by the looks of it he could tell how expensive it must've been and yet he still had the confidence to try and sway you— right in front of your husband too, who surely made more money than him with his part-time cashier job.
"Come on hun, let's go," Kashimo glances softly at you and his tone is gentle. Much different compared to this stranger who's just grateful that your husband decided to stay civil for the sake of his wife. He wears the look of horror when Kashimo turns around to face him once more.
"We'll be leaving now. I wouldn't expect a guy like you to be keeping their job for long if this is how you work."
Arriving home only meant that you had to deal with the little ordeal that happened, inquiring Kashimo about it. "What was that about? You didn't have to be rude you know."
Your beloved husband only scoffed when you reminded him of what happened. Seeing the sour expression on his face told you how annoyed he was, plus the deep scowl on his lips presented how pissed he was too. He pushes you against the kitchen counter, caging you between his strong arms as his lips latch onto your neck, kissing aggressively. You whine softly from how rough he's being, sucking on your supple skin creating hickeys everywhere while your fingers intertwine with his cyan locks. Your breaths are labored, he knows your body better than you do. He knows your sweet spots and your favourite positions, how you like it done and the perfect pace to do it.
Letting go, his saliva connects to your now bruised skin and he admires it.
"Pretty little mark. Should give you more don't you think?"
"Hajime, were you jealous?" You teased, giggling but your smirk is taken away when you feel his rough hand unclasp your bra, the other pulling your shirt up right above your breasts. Your sensitive skin exposed to the cold air causes your nipples to harden more than it needs to. Seeing this has blood rushing down to his cock as he flicks and tugs on your erect nipple, twisting it with the perfect pressure of his thumb and playing with your tits. Your head tips back with a moan, holding onto the kitchen counter for support while your husband ravages your body as he please.
Suddenly you feel his hot breath against your sensitive mounds. His lips wrap around your hardened nipple, sucking sensually producing lewd sounds from the wetness of your skin. His right hand continues to give attention to your left breast while he sucks on the other. You could feel Kashimo's calloused hand massaging your chest, the roughness of his thumb causing more friction against you as he twists and presses your nipple. God— his hands are too good. The man is skilled in pleasing you, he knows the perfect amount of pressure needed to have you over the edge.
Kashimo's free hand pushes your panties down, rubbing your already wet folds to get you prepped. He pushes a prodding finger against your walls, curling his finger just enough to hit the right spot. The sensation of his long finger abusing your sweet spot while his thumb circles your clit has you instinctively opening your legs further for more. Both his hands working you and his mouth sucking and lapping on your erect mounds already has you feeling like you're about to explode.
Your thighs shook in excitement as Kashimo's fingers slid inside of your already drenched cunt, and you moaned loudly, fingers scraping on the table under you with how your body is attacked by all this pleasure. Kashimo could feel your walls tighten around his digits. He knew whenever you needed to cum but as cruel as he is, Kashimo removes himself from your pussy, walls aching to release the familiar buildup in your abdomen.
You whined from the loss of sensation, feeling empty without him. "Hajime, why'd you st—"
He cuts you off, putting his pussy drenched finger inside of your mouth. "Lick it clean," His smooth, husky voice demanded. You couldn't deny how that turned you on more, sucking and lapping on your own juices off of his finger, making erotic sounds from it.
"There you go, see? Not so hard being a good little slut now right?"
He was enjoying the sight of your pretty lips wrapping his fingers, tasting yourself from it. Now his head was full of perverted thoughts on how you would look if you had your lips wrap his dick instead. If he had you sucking and choking on his fat cock.
Kashimo removes his finger from your mouth, too impatient to have you gagging on his dick. He kept his cyan eyes down on you while he licked his own fingers clean and it made you feel small and honestly inferior, submissive to him.
"Kneel down."
He had a mix of dominance and lust, greed hinted at the edge of his voice. You did as he said, kneeling down for your knees to take the weight while your face is in front of his crotch. Kashimo cupped his hand around the growing tent of his pants, rubbing it as his veins throbbed from the blood rushing south to his erection. "Go on. You know what to do," Kashimo had a smug smirk decorating his lips, eyeing down on you in front of him.
You gulped knowing what he wanted, the thought of his dick springing out of its restraints has you dripping wetter than before. Your hands pulled down on his pants slowly, earning a grunt from him at how you were taking your time in this. "Shit hun, stop teasing already," he grabbed a fistful of your hair and you moaned softly from how good it felt, forcing you to do as he say, rushing you more. Kashimo's left with his boxers on but you wanted to prolong your teasing. The tip of your tongue lapped at his clothed bulge leaving a damp spot, receiving labored breaths of sigh from him.
You continued your ministrations, licking his clothed shaft with the tip of your tongue like a needy slut until you yelped when he gently yanked on your hair, "what'd I say about teasing huh?" Your little fun of taking control was instantly stripped away when he forced you to stop. Pulling down the last of his restraints, his thick cock sprung out, tip leaking with precum.
Scrambling on your knees obediently, humiliation washed over you with your husband still gently grasping your hair. Kashimo's fingertip taps on his cock, smearing the pre-cum around the tip and then on your face.
"Pretty face would look better with my cock fucking into your mouth yeah?" He muses, moist tip rubbing up against your soft lips wanting to enter and just violate your face. You're practically drooling, tongue sticking out and he places his shaft flat onto it. You drag your tongue underneath him in a long and slow pace earning a low moan.
Your husband smoothly slides in his cock deep into your mouth, unprepared by his size even though you've already been married for years. You gagged a bit before adjusting to his length, drooling a bit onto his shaft and gripping on his thigh. His cock pushes through your lips, hitting the back of your throat while you try to breathe through your nose.
"Y'know you pissed me off. Just wanted to make me jealous huh?"
You couldn't respond. Cock deep in your mouth, you could only muffle in denial. It was true though, you didn't mean to make him jealous. What started off with you teasing him about it turned into him face fucking you. His smoothly styled cyan hair falls out of place, bangs sticking onto his face from the sweat forming on his forehead and his buns turning messy.
"Shouldn't my wife apologize? Use your big girl words and say you're sorry," the room resonates with his groans, his girth making it hard to breathe as you try and say sorry.
"Mmph- soh-wee—"
It was all you could say after all with a meaty cock in your mouth, nose brushing against his hair as he keeps you in place with the firm grip he has on your locks. A sadistic smirk curled onto Kashimo's lips as he watches, beginning to quicken up the pace. You hate and love how determined Kashimo is, once he sets his goal on something he'll do whatever it takes to achieve it. At this moment though, he's determined to have his wife deepthroating him.
The friction of each thrust has his dick tattooed in a darker red, grunting at the wet cave that's going to send him to heaven. His movements get sloppier and grow desperate, balls slapping against your chin with each thrust.
"Ah— fuck!" With a final thrust he spurts all his cum down your throat, pushing you right against him to keep you in place as his little cumdump and making sure to leave none behind. "Swallow," he demands, hot seed slides down your throat as you try and swallow while his dick is still in your mouth.
With a huff, Kashimo lets go of your abused throat to let you breathe. Gasping for air, your hand rubs your sore neck but you could see how his dick still stays standing despite how satisfied he was with jizzing in his wife's mouth.
Looking up at him, your husband's lips held the seductive smirk, palming on his wet, still-hard cock in front of you. Standing on his full height, he grabs your waist and pulls you up, laying your belly side on the kitchen counter behind you.
"You want this? Your pussy's drooling for my cock but you're not speaking clearly enough. I'm gonna need my little slut to speak. We can't have my wife suffering now can we?"
"Please.." you pleaded, his firm hand spanks your ass receiving a whine.
"Cute."
Kashimo slides inside with ease from how wet you were from your cancelled orgasm, cock stretching out your plush walls as your thighs shook in excitement. Moaning against your sleeve, you start fucking yourself on his dick. Kashimo doesn't hesitate in helping you, picking up the pace and fucking hard into your drenched cunt. You could feel every inch of his dick, pussy memorizing every pretty vein on him, how it feels like you two were made just for each other while his tip easily abuses your sensitive spot.
Your body glistens with sweat, shoulders littered with hickeys with Kashimo leaving bite marks on you, his teeth biting on your skin just hard enough to draw out pleasure without hurting you. You moaned as his fingers rubbed your clit in circles
Kashimo gets the perfect view of where your bodies are connected, every thrust from your squelching cunt creating a white ring of both your arousals. Your trembling legs were proof of how much you were enjoying it, toes curling and fingers gripping the smooth surface of the table with a muffled squeal.
"Fuck- gonna cum inside, gonna make you pregnant,"
He claws against your waist, the euphoria of him filling you up while your hardened nipples rubbed against the counter from each thrust's friction. Your mouth hung open but no noises escaped your pretty swollen lips. Kashimo loved the idea that his cock was making you feel so good that your brain couldn't even react to it all the while his tip kisses your womb with every push, hitting you in your fucked-out state.
"Can't even speak now? Wanna be a mommy huh? You like that idea?"
You tried reaching back to grab his arm, whimpering to signal that you were about to cum with the familiar coil tightening in your abdomen. Your husband leans down to give you kisses though they were more possessive than caring, giving sloppy french kisses with more tongue than lips. The sweat forming at your skin caused you to slide against the counter with every thrust, trying to grab on to anything for support.
The thought of your belly round with a baby and your fuller breasts being sensitive was enough for Kashimo to cum.
Teeth sinking into your neck to muffle his groans, his hot cum spilled inside of you making sure to paint every inch of your walls white. Spurts of his load fills your belly and he stays there cockwarming until it softens, pulling out.
Your husband's digits went down to spread your lower lips, watching how his cum oozed out of you. He curls his fingers to scoop up his orgasm and pushes it back into you, making sure his beloved wife is full of his hot seed.
"Hajime—"
"Sorry hun, I got too rough didn't I? I was just jealous but I'll make it up to you. I just love you so much," he plants a tender kiss on your back, massaging your sore hips.
Giggling at how he peppers soft kisses all over you, you reassure him. "It's okay, I had fun."
Chuckling, Kashimo nuzzles into your neck, still rubbing your sore flesh and promising to give you a full body massage.
"But hey, you'll make me such a happy daddy."
362 notes · View notes
noonswrites · 1 year
Text
Muse
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synopsis: Xavier just wants a picture of you so he can draw it. things don’t go according to plan…
warnings: blowjob, penetration, fingering
it was an accident really. a genuine, complete, accident. you just wanted to support your talented friend who had been begging you for a subject for his next painting.
“please! it doesn’t have to be a good photo of you, I just need one for reference” he says exaggeratedly as you make your way to class. his giant frame is never an inch away from yours if he can help it, and today is no different. he’s tugging on your arm like a lost puppy as he begs you to be his muse for the millionth time.
“oh, so you’re saying I take bad photos?” you reply snidely.
he grins widely, knowing your games too well by now “you know that’s not what i meant” and gives you a playful push.
“i’ll think about it xavier, but you should really find another victim”
“i believe the correct term is “muse” dork”
“keep calling me dork and see where that gets you” he puts his hands up, mimicking what he would look like “surrendering” to you.
Xavier wishes he could hide how excited he is to draw you again. He can’t wait to combine his two favorite things: you, and his obsession with art. what you don’t know is Xavier wants to take this opportunity to ask something he’s been too shy to say for years….
when the seemingly never ending school day is finally over, he walks you to your room. your hallmate left for the week, so it was just you and Xavier sprawled out on your bed. he sat at the foot of it, legs crossed while yours were draped over his lap.
he eagerly awaits you to send him a picture while you briskly scroll through your camera roll. you finally deem one appropriate for his next masterpiece, a selfie of the two of you. his arms wrapped around your neck while you’re giving him a jokingly disapproving look. at least, that’s what you think you’re sending him. Xavier however, receives a completely different image that you accidentally sent instead.
he quickly taps on the notification with his pencil ready, opening up a photo of your breasts on display. “o-oh my god”
“what?!” you exclaim, confused at his reaction.
“are you sure that’s what you want me to draw?” he says timidly.
“yeah, unless you have a problem with it i guess” it’s too late now, you’re absentmindedly scrolling through your phone.
Xavier tries to start drawing, he really does. truthfully, he started getting hard the minute he opened the photo and now he’s trying to get a grip on his pencil, which won’t stop shaking in his hand. you can feel his dick rising since your leg is still on his lap, causing you to look up.
this is when you notice he’s shaking. “Xavi, what’s wrong?”
Xavier can barely bear the nickname right now, combined with everything else he’s experiencing.
“i’m- i’m sorry. i don’t know if i can draw this” Xavier shows the phone to you and you turn a shade of red he doesn’t think he’s ever seen before.
“oh shit! oh fuck i’m so sorry oh my god fuck!” you cover your face with your hands.
Xavier, although nervous, tries his best to reassure you and puts a gentle hand on your leg. “it’s ok, i just didn’t think we were at that level, you know?”
you spread your fingers, peeking your eyes through “it’s fine, really” he gives a weak, bashful smile. a part of him kind of wishes you did send it on purpose, and it’s not like he hadn’t thought of his best friend naked before…
in a desperate attempt to change the subject you ask “does that hurt?” while staring at his now erect penis that creates a tent in his sweatpants.
“um- i- “
“i can help you with it if it does- i read somewhere that it hurts when you- you know-“ words are coming out of your mouth faster than your brain can process what’s happening now… “if not we can forget this ever happened and i won’t tell anyone- i promise” you’d probably regret saying that later, but right now, you can’t help it. you’ve had the biggest crush on xavier forever and if you’re being honest, you’re in a pretty similar aroused state right now.
“i don’t know… i don’t want to put you in an uncomfortable po-“
“i want to” you cut him off “i’ve wanted to for years Xavi” you’re crawling towards him now.
“do you want to?” you ask him, although the evidence is all over his face, he looks almost pained. his mouth is slightly agape and his eyes are focused on your lips. lips that he has thought of kissing for months now, but this time, he doesn’t resist the urge.
Xavier can’t hold it anymore, he takes your face in his hands and kisses you. it’s hesitant at first, both of you in shock that it’s finally happening. it takes seconds for it to get sloppy. you break apart only to climb on xavier’s lap, and you don’t miss the distressed look he wears as a result of moments apart from you. you’re quick to relieve him, sitting down with your thighs on either side of his hips, and both of you stifle a moan when your clothed cunt makes contact with his dick. now it’s your turn to grab his face and he loves every second of it, wanting nothing more than to fawn over you as you use him for your pleasure. you, however, won’t have that, stopping at nothing until he’s completely ruined.
you take his bottom lip between yours and suck on it, and Xavier swears he’s seeing stars. he starts getting messy as both of your lips are covered in each other’s spit and that alone is making him dizzy. he doesn’t even realize he’s begun to grind his hips upward trying to relieve himself in the friction you’re creating. you tell him to pull off his t-shirt and he does so immediately, and you do the same. he smoothes his hands up and down your waist as if you’re made of glass, looking you up and down with a mixture of reverence and desire. you almost want to laugh at him because you’d never imagine seeing your best friend like this, looking at you like he’d been starving for days and desperate to kiss you again, but you settle for giving him an amused smile.
“what is it?” he asks with the most precious look of confusion on his face.
“you’re so cute baby” his eyelashes flutter and he looks away, he shifts slightly while trying to pretend the new pet name doesn’t turn him on more. you can tell that he’s smiling too now, internally giddy.
you start to leave a trail of kisses down his neck, and he lets out a pleasure filled sigh. when you start to teasingly lick his abdomen he tenses up again, and you hear a soft “ah” escape his lips. you unbutton his pants and pull down his boxers and Xavier starts to tremble. he looks down at you with watery eyes and you take his dick in your hand. he lets out a hiss at your warmth.
you start to kiss his shaft and his brows furrow but his eye contact never wavers. if xavier could have this moment tattooed on his brain, he would. when you take his head in your mouth and suck he jolts, unable to control his movements at this point. you slowly take more of him into your mouth and hollow your cheeks. you start to stroke xavier’s leg with your free hand and xavier’s gaze softens at the tender gesture.
you slowly take him deeper into your mouth, astonished that you’ve made it this far without choking. “fuck” he cries as you fit all of him in your mouth. you start a slow rhythm of sliding your lips up and down his shaft and xavier lies back, helpless to your actions. you can feel how tense the muscles in his stomach and legs are, doing his best to hold back his impending orgasm. as you speed up, xavier begins to babble uncontrollably, a mixture of “you feel so good”, “you’re so pretty, fuck!”, and so on. you fondle his balls and he’s almost sent over the edge, but you pull yourself off of him just in time.
he stares at you, dazed “did i do something wrong?” god, you’d do anything for those puppy dog eyes.
“no baby, just wanted you to come inside me, is that alright?” xavier wants to pinch himself.
“y-yeah” he leans in for another clumsy kiss, drunk on the feeling of being so close to you. it’s full of tongue and lips crashing together, but quickly ends with a gasp as you guide his cock to your pussy.
xavier watches himself enter you in a trance, completely mesmerized at your facial expression and the stretch of your cunt. when your fully seated, a tear falls down his cheek. you admit, you may have overstimulated him a bit. you wipe it away with your thumb and apologize. “i’m sorry for making you wait my love” he doesn’t seem to care at this point.
Xavier reaches his arms around your waist and pulls you in closer, causing you to moan at the adjustment “you’re s-so warm” he lets out.
“can i take this off?” he says as a hand slides over the clasp of your bra.
“yeah” you reply, and he begins to fiddle with the hook. he slides it off of your shoulders.
“so, do you think i’m a catfish?” you inquire. he lets out a wholesome laugh and you follow suit. Xavier gently pushes a loose strand of hair behind your ear and places his palm on your cheek.
“i think you’re the opposite of a catfish” you blush and attempt to turn your head away, but he pulls you in for another kiss. he moves to kiss the corner of your lips, then your chin, your jaw, and finally stops at your neck. he nibbles your jugular and then sucks, and your hips buck forward as he finds your sensitive spot. Xavier moans and you take this as a sign to keep moving.
you grind down on him and Xavier does his best to mentally prepare himself for the onslaught of pleasure. he’s already about to cum, holding on just so he can get you to try to finish first. he slides his hands down to your ass pushing you down on his cock while he pushes his hips up, effectively guiding himself deeper than you thought possible. you yelp and Xavier watches your features contort, repeating the action so he can listen to you moan again and again. he shifts one of his hands close to your cunt and guides a thumb to your clit, rubbing it in circles, prompting you to jolt and start bouncing on his cock more eagerly than before.
“shit- shit- fuck!” Xavier doesn’t know what he’s saying anymore, he only knows that he’s been close to cumming for more than an hour now, and he’s about to burst. you wrap your arms around his neck for stability and pick up your pace.
“oh my god” he whines and his grip on your hips tightens. you realize how close he is, so you stop your movement.
“no- no! i need it please” his head falls into your neck and you stroke his back.
“i know my love, i just need you to ask for it nicely okay?” he lifts his head and you coo at his tear stained cheeks. “do you think you can do that for me?”
“y-yeah” you start to move again immediately, not wanting to prolong his suffering any further. Xavier cant stop himself from thrusting into you, and you let him, enjoying the look in his eyes as he starts to fall apart.
“are you gonna cum soon baby?” you ask after a particularly hard thrust.
“y- yes please- please can i c-cum?” Xavier is shaking uncontrollably now, his movements are sloppy and uncoordinated.
“yes my love” you smile “but you can’t take your pretty eyes off of me okay? i want to see you” Xavier is blushing harder than ever, he’d never admit that’s what sent him over the edge. he does his best to keep his eyes on yours, his mouth open and letting out angelic moans while his nails dig into your hips. he thinks your the most beautiful person alive as you keep up your pace grinding on his cock. his brows furrow and fresh tears arise as you continue to speed up, a look of tortured confusion mixed with euphoria on his face.
“i- i can’t please!” he wails. you finally cease your movement, panting. xavier pulls you into a tight hug, kissing your sweaty body in any place he can reach.
“thank you, thank you, thank you” he repeats between kisses. you flop down onto your mattress, and xavier hovers over you, smothering your face with kisses.
“baby, i want to make you cum now. can i? please? need to watch you cum” he babbles.
“you don’t have to Xavi, but yes” you’re still catching your breath.
“i want to” and without hesitation he slides his fingers to to your sopping cunt. “so wet… such a pretty pussy” you bury your face in the pillow.
“no need to be shy my love…” his thumb rubs over your clit and your thighs clench. he pushes them open gently, eyes fixated on your pulsing cunt. he slides two fingers in, feeling his own cum inside of you and trying his best not to get hard at the sensation. he curls his fingers upward and your hips shift at the sensitivity. he holds them down with his free arm and continues his ministrations. he probes for your most delicate spot and knows he’s found it when you squeeze his arm and whimper. you lift your head again and he meets your eyes, staring at you as he quickens his pace. you’re already worked up so it doesn’t take much after that, but what sets you over the edge is his decision to take your clit into his mouth and kiss it sloppily. your legs shake and kick and he happily continues to thrust his fingers as you ride out your orgasm, grinding down on them.
now you’re truly exhausted, and Xavier curls up next to you as you continue to catch your breath. “y’know, i was going to use the painting as a way to ask you out…” you perk up at this.
“really?!” xavier beams at you.
“yeah” you pull him into a kiss and he doesn’t stop smiling.
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ellethespaceunicorn · 2 months
Text
The Howling in Claw Creek Forest, Chapter Seven
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Chapter Seven: Marked By The Wolf
Rating: Mature, 18+, Minors – DNI
Pairing: Werewolf!Walter Marshall x Reader
Word Count: ~4.8K (ya waited extra-long; ya get an extra-long chapter)
Series Summary: You live in a small town called Claw Creek, surrounded by a deep, dark forest. Since you were a kid, an urban legend of the creature in the woods has been told. If the distant howls at night and mutilated livestock are anything to go by, you fear the stories to be true.
Chapter Summary: It’s the night of the full moon. The plan? Invite Sy over to the cabin to keep an eye on him in case he shifts. WCGW? 
Warnings: verbal fight, angst
A/N: Thank you for being patient with me, guys! And I see y’all reblogging the masterlist for the series. And I thank you so much for keeping this story alive! A special thank you to @peyton-warren for being my lovely beta and soundboard for this. Cuz ya girl was struggling with this chapter for many moons.
Dividers by me
Support/Reblog banner by me
Cover Art by me
Series Masterlist
My Masterlist
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Over the next day or so, you get to know Jace. You’d learned his full first name, but “only ko’u makuahine calls me Jason”. Growing up in Hawaii shaped the man he is today, and he misses home a lot. But with Walter in his pack, and being Faye’s godfather, he’s made his own little family.
For a while, it seems like he may be flirting with you. But that quickly fades into something else. You’re only mildly upset when he refers to you as kaikuahine. Firstly, because you had no idea what it meant. Secondly, because when you found out it meant ‘sister’, you had to remind yourself that you have a perfectly great werewolf boyfriend of your own already.
‘Calm down, girl,’ you thought, thinking of your eager beaver.
Walter notices the way your demeanor changes and takes your hand, leading you upstairs. Your confusion only amuses Jace, who seems to know something you don’t. Once you make it into Walter’s bedroom, you are spun against the door. He attacks your neck, licking and nipping at the sensitive flesh until you tangle your fingers in his chestnut curls. Your mind reels, wondering what’s gotten into him.
And then it hits you.
He’s…jealous!
Oh, this is too good. That’s twice tonight that he’s been struck with jealousy. Earlier with Sy’s thirst trap and now with your flirtatious nature. You are beyond flattered, but you refuse to let this man get too far gone. With your hand in his hair, you tighten your fingers and pry him from your neck.
Once his face is in front of yours, you notice his wild eyes where black replaces blue. He looks ready to eat you, and as much as you would like that, you decide to try and calm the beast within.
“Walter, baby? I need you to calm down for a sec,” you beg, both hands tangling in his hair to soothe his soul, “Come on back to me, baby.”
Blinking once, then twice, his eyes finally focus on you, and the trance is gone. His giant paws rush to your face and then to the tender skin of your neck where his teeth were grazing. He winces when you grimace at the feel of his thumb on your sore flesh.
“Pup, I am so sorry. I don’t know what got into me. I was−”
“Jealous?” you supply, already knowing what this was.
“I can’t help it. I haven’t felt this way in a long time. It’s jealousy, sure. But it feels deeper than that. I felt the need to mark you as mine. You’re sort of a natural flirt, you know that?” he probes, a soft smile on his face.
“Well, I mean, I can see that. I guess I’ve never really thought about it. No one has ever brought it up,” you explain, looking back on all the times that men thought you were flirting with them but were just being nice. 
“Don’t worry about it. I just wanted to make sure that Jace knew you were taken. He has an effect on women,” he expresses, “But it seems he only sees you as a sister, so I don’t have to worry about you two riding off into the sunset, now do I?” 
“Wow, that was kinda bitchy. But also, incredibly hot that you thought I could be influenced by another big pretty werewolf,” you tease, leaning up on your tippy toes to place a kiss on the end of his nose before pushing back from the door so you could open it and leave.
“You think he’s pretty?” Walter shouts after you.
You laugh, swiftly jogging down the stairs to find an equally amused Jace sitting on the couch with his feet up on the coffee table, perfectly at home.
Trying to keep yourself from feeling embarrassed, you plop down next to him on the couch. While you are snuggling into his side, he chuckles and jokes that you should watch out for “the big, bad wolf”. Just as the words leave his mouth, Walter appears on the other side of you, having leapt over the couch. You’re officially squeezed in between the two large wolves, and you suddenly feel like the luckiest girl in the world.
Between the warmth radiating from both men, the way they commented on the Forged in Fire episode playing in the background, and the long day finally catching up with you, you had no choice but to fall asleep. You remember leaning your head against Jace’s beefy shoulder after he splayed both arms along the back of the couch. At some point during the night, you awake to find yourself sprawled across both of their laps. Your head is in Walter’s lap and your blanket-covered feet are shoved under Jace’s thigh.
The television screen asking if you’re still watching illuminates the faces of the snoring wolves at either side of you. Walter’s hand on your shoulder twitches as he feels you shifting. Shuffling your ankles, Jace sleepily readjusts to give you room before lowering his thigh back over your feet. All of this was done while they were asleep as if it was second nature to want to keep you safe and warm.
And you weren’t going to complain about being in a literal wolf pile. Instead, you snuggle into your blanket and let yourself drift off again.
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When you awaken, the mid-morning sun is flooding through the windows. You’re still on the couch, but no longer surrounded by your wolf-shaped furnaces. Getting up from the couch, you wrap the blanket around your shoulders and go in search of coffee. 
Shuffling into the kitchen, you brush past where Walter is plating some waffles. You make it to the coffee machine and pour yourself a cup, adding in your sugar and cream and stirring it until it hits that perfect shade. Taking that first sip is nirvana. As the temperature of the hot beverage slides down your throat, you are warmed from the inside out. Now, you can officially say you have woken up.
You turn around to lean against the counter and are surprised to see both wolves looking at you and smiling. “What?”
“Oh, nothing. Just we were trying to get your attention, but I see Walter was right about you loving java. You have your priorities straight, is all,” Jace winks at you before sipping his coffee.
Walter chuckles and shoves a plateful of waffles, bacon, and eggs to one of the empty seats and nods for you to eat. “Don’t worry, Pup. I think it’s cute that you need your morning fuel before intelligent social interaction.”
“Thanks, Wolfie,” you hum, leaning in to peck him on the cheek before sitting down to tuck into your plate.
“And the nicknames are elevating my sugar levels as we speak,” Jace teases, expertly catching the waffle that Walter throws his way.
“Look, Jace and I have an idea. We just need you to put the pieces in motion,” Walter begins, explaining the plan to you while you eat. You stayed mostly silent, letting him lay everything out.
Jace pops in here and there with a few tweaks when he sees you start to feel a bit overwhelmed, “If at any time you feel uncomfortable, don’t hesitate. We’re there in case anything happens.”
“I guess I have a call to make. Oh, and do you fellas think you can go grocery shopping? I need a few things if I wanna make sure I have enough to feed all of you,” you lament, factoring in that Sy used to eat you out of house and home on multiple occasions. Might as well have too much than too little. You give Wolfie and Jace your shopping list and head upstairs to shower and make a very important phone call.
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Early evening rolls in and you are relishing the smell of your pot roast with vegetables simmering as it permeates the first floor of the house. Wolfie has been at your side for most of the afternoon and even now because you’ve been like a chicken with your head cut off, anxious nerves making you fuss over every little thing. 
And he couldn’t blame you for being on high alert. He did ask you to invite over your ex-fiancé during a full moon, under the guise of getting together for a football game, so that he and Jace could find out if Sy is a werewolf. ‘A simple plan,’ said no one in this situation.
Olivia was invited over to help you set up and possibly help you with cooking. But alas, fair Olivia has found her Prince Charming in Jace. And just as Walter said, he does have an effect on women. You have to stop and giggle to yourself as she throws her head back in laughter and touches his arm, her signature move. Great, those two can swoon each other all night while you try and keep the peace between a wolf and a hard place.
The roast was not going to cook any faster with you standing over the crock pot, so you step away from the kitchen and join the others as they sit in the living room. Jace and Liv sit on the couch as Walter sits in one of the loungers. Just as you sit down to rest your bones in the other chair, you notice the guys exchanging a look. 
You hear the rumble of Sy’s old pickup and your heart drops into your stomach. You shoot up from your seat and adjust your turtleneck dress that hugs your body like a glove before walking to the front door. You step outside as Sy is pulling into the driveway. Swallowing your apprehension, you walk across the lawn to meet him. 
Smiling as he exits his truck, Sy wraps you up in a bear hug. When he lifts you off the ground, you squeak, and he just laughs before putting you back down. You get a whiff of him, and you feel an instant urge to bury your nose in his neck, or his perfectly trimmed beard. Fighting that urge, you playfully swat at Sy’s meaty, flannel-clad bicep and try not to stare at his veiny forearms. 
The man always had great arms; you would have complimented him on them once upon a time. But that was a long time ago, and even though you wanted to devour him where he stood, you weren’t about to let him know that. His head was big enough without you adding your horniness to it.
He steps to the truck bed and reaches a hand in to pick up a case of your favorite beer. He seems pretty pleased with himself and not at all nervous about meeting your new boyfriend. You should’ve known better than to think he would miss the opportunity to annoy your current beau.
You lead him inside where he immediately sniffs the air and exclaims, “Oh, my God! Please tell me that is your pot roast.”
You feel heat rise to your cheeks and nervously reply, “Um, yeah. It’s probably just about done if you want some.”
“If I want some? Of course, it’s my favorite meal,” Sy earnestly comments, and you can’t help but bashfully thank him.
A throat is cleared, and Walter appears at your side, planting a nuzzling kiss on your neck as he snakes an arm around you, making you giggle. 
“Walter, this is Sy. Sy, this is Walter, my boyfriend,” you introduce them, smiling to yourself as they offer a hand for a handshake and exchange pleasantries.
“Pleasure ta meetcha, Walter.” “Likewise, Sy.” 
They were still shaking each other’s hands until you realized they were having a staring contest. 
“Seriously?!” you gripe, equally mad at both of them, “You’re both grown men, right?” You push through their still-joined hands and go into the kitchen.
Olivia rises from the couch and admonishes them as well, “Good going, guys,” as she follows you into the kitchen.
“What?” they say in unison, looking at the only other man in the room. Jace shakes his head, looking between the two of them and taking a pull off his beer.
Walter walks into the kitchen, already apologizing as he approaches where you are sitting at the table. He takes your hand in his and holds it against his chest. It’s less what he says, and more of how he says it. He sounds genuine and he means every word. You peck him on the cheek, forgiving him. Olivia makes sure to tease you about how cute you two are.
Sy saunters in once Walter exits, placing the case of beer on the kitchen counter before opening it, removing two bottles, and handing one to you. Clinking the neck of his bottle against yours, he uncaps his and takes and takes a long pull. Taking a long look at you, he leans back and surveys your level of anger, trying to assess exactly how mad you are.
“Walter seems nice,” he starts in that fatherly tone that always gets a smile out of you. 
You shake your head and laugh despite yourself wanting to be mad at him. “You know, he actually is very nice. Just give him a chance to surprise you before you hate his guts, ok? That’s all I ask.”
“Oh, is that all? Easy peasy lemon squeezy,” he grumbles, pouting for a second. “Look, I’ll be on my best behavior like Church on Sunday if I can get some of that pot roast.” He turns those blue topaz eyes on you, and you’re putty in his hands, suddenly wishing Liv wasn’t in the room to watch that little moment. 
You rise from your seat, dishing out some of the roast and potatoes and carrots onto a plate for Sy, and place it in front of him. You light up when he closes his eyes at the first bite. His groan of satisfaction is more than enough to signal that you did a great job. But the pat he gives your knee is so warm and so intimate that your muscles instantly react to his touch, wishing it lingered for a second more.
“Liv, can Sy and I have a second to talk?” you plead, hoping that she would give you some space.
“Sure. I’ll just go back to fawning over Jace. He’s so pretty I wanna cry,” she professes, patting your shoulder as she exits the kitchen.
Your eyes follow Olivia as she leaves, and then they snap back to where Sy is sitting smiling at you. And you know this particular smile well. 
“Sy, why are you smiling at me like that? You said you would be on your best behavior and that smile is not your best behavior,” you sigh, rolling your eyes, “I know that smile got me to do a lot of things back in the day.”
“A lot of fun things come to mind,” he murmurs, bringing his beer up to his lips to drain before rising to get another and lean on the counter, “But that is not why I’m here tonight. Don’t worry, I’m only here to make sure my favorite girl’s being taken care of. I will be a perfect gentleman, even to yer old man.”
Rising from your seat, you finally open your beer and stand next to him. Taking a sip, you bump his shoulder with yours. “One question I have for you. Why did you agree to come over? I mean, you could have hung up the phone or cursed me out when I asked you over to spend time with me. At my boyfriend’s cabin. In the woods. Just saying that now makes me wonder what was going through your head.”
“Not gonna lie, I loved seeing you the other day. Even though you weren’t exactly pleased to see me, you still told me to be careful out there in the woods. Look, I like having you in my life. If that means I have you as a friend, it’s much better than not having you at all,” he confesses, and your world shatters around you when you look up into his eyes and see his sincerity.
You open your mouth to speak but the words won’t take shape and you’re left looking for the answer in his face. The eyes you got lost in a million times before. The lips you kissed every chance you got. Standing this close, you can breathe each other’s breath. If you only stood on your tippy-toes and leaned in, you’d be right−
“Am I interrupting something?” Olivia’s voice snaps you back to reality and you put some space between you and Sy. She walks in between you two to grab another beer. She gives Sy a look before turning her attention to you, “Your boyfriend’s wondering where you are, bee-tee-dubs.” She throws out her arm, gesturing for you to lead the way back to the living room instead of finishing your conversation. You miss her giving Sy another pointed stare before following you out.
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The night goes on as planned, at first. You all watch a college football game, Walter’s alma mater vs their rivals, who just happen to be Sy’s alma mater. You and Sy met after college, and he mentioned having played lacrosse, but he’s never shown interest in football. Until tonight, of course.
It’s been a long time since you and Sy spent time together, but you know his temperament. And he’s off. He doesn’t look like himself either, as if he’s covering up something. With the way that Walter and Jace keep sharing looks, you see he is on their radar as well.
Olivia and Jace occupy the two loungers, so you are sitting in between Walter and Sy on the couch. How lucky! You’re in the perfect spot to listen to Sy rooting loudly for his team and making snide comments all because he doesn’t wanna sit next to you and your new boyfriend. 
Walter, on the other hand, is quiet for the most part but trembling with anger. He’s letting Sy get to him, and you can’t stand it anymore. You’re suddenly jealous of Olivia who fell asleep halfway into the game.
You unwrap yourself from around Walter and turn to Sy. “Kitchen. Now.”
He doesn’t answer and mutely follows you, taken aback when you turn on him once you’re both in the kitchen.
“What the hell are you doing? You are being such an ass. I’m trying to hold out an olive branch, but you are not meeting me in the middle, Sy,” you snap, feeling like you could spit fire.
“And why did you even invite me? To parade your new man all over me? I thought maybe we could try and be friends, but now I see all you wanna do is remind me that I wasn’t good enough for you,” Sy erupts, his voice booming and full of rage. 
“That’s not fair,” you gasp.
“All’s fair in love, Bug,” he cautions, sweat starting to drip down his forehead, “Look, I’m gonna go before either of us says something we’ll regret.” He turns and storms out of the kitchen before you can step any closer to him, but you are on his tail when he steps out of the front door.
You reach him, putting your hand on his shoulder as you try to stop him. He turns back to you, his eyes closed in a pained expression. His skin is flushed as he rips open his flannel, making it easier for you to see his Adonis belt just above his jeans. The bite mark is nowhere to be seen, having already healed. When he starts to hyperventilate, you try to soothe him by calling his name. Fast as lightning, Walter appears between you and Sy.
“Sy, you have to try and stay calm. You aren’t making this easy on yourself. Let it happen,” Walter holds his hands out, showing he means no harm as he tries to step closer to Sy. Walter starts to shift after removing his sweater and jeans.
“Back off, man,” Sy warns, feeling like he could explode with the heat beneath his skin.
“You can do this, just open your eyes,” Walter replies, before his mouth becomes a snout and talking is impossible.
But when Sy finally opens his eyes, they start to glow. His neck twists at a freakish angle, the sounds of bones crunching has you terrified. Reddish-brown fur sprouts out of his skin as his hands stretch into clawed paws. His confused screams are horrifying. Jace’s booming voice is talking over his cries, talking him through the transformation. 
Doubling over, Sy grunts in agony as he falls on all fours. Letting out a howl, his jeans fall away as he transforms for the first time. You scream, taking a step back when he sniffs the air and he takes one step toward you. 
Sy paces back and forth in front of Walter, seeming to weigh his options. Walter’s wolf form stands an inch or two taller than Sy as he puts distance between you and the new wolf.
Just as the tension is insurmountable, a throat is cleared, and you all look to see Jace standing in the driveway. Nonchalant, but his eyes keenly take in the scene in front of him as he nods at Walter. Olivia is at Jace’s side, dumbfounded by what she is witnessing. When she notices that rumbling sound coming from Jace is him growling, she throws away fear in place of curiosity.
The two wolves are kicking dust up with their feet, squaring off until Jace steps a bit closer to back up his brother. Sy had a chance of maybe beating Walter. But a new wolf up against two bonded brother wolves? No way in hell. 
You step in between the three of them. Holding out your hands, you plead with them not to fight. Walter’s nose nudges at your legs and he huffs in Sy’s face. Walter shifts back, picking up his jeans to put back on, and crossing his arms across his massive chest.
Walter and Jace move closer to Sy as he snarls at them until he sees you, clinging to Olivia. Tears fall from your eyes and something inside of Sy breaks. Looking to you, he can see the fear on your face and you wonder if that is what causes him to want to shift back into human form. The two brothers talk Sy down, telling him how to return to human form.
Once his bones have settled and the whining howls stop, Sy is in the fetal position on the lawn. Shivering, sweaty, and scared. His clothes are ruined, but you think you remember seeing a blanket in the truck bed earlier. You ask Olivia to get the blanket while you caress Sy’s face. 
Once the blanket is around his middle, you accept help from Walter to lift him up. Sy uses his last ounce of energy to push Walter away. 
Coming back to himself, Sy refocuses his anger on Walter. “This has nothing to do with you. Gonna need you to step aside,” Sy fumes, cranky from the changes he doesn’t understand he’s going through.
“That’s just not gonna happen. Maybe if you weren’t trying to move in on what’s mine, I’d be sorry for what I’ve done,” Walter seethes, “After all, I’m the one that bit you.”
You and Sy are both in a state of shock but for different reasons. Sy just found out werewolves are real, and your boyfriend just referred to you as “what’s his'. 
“You did this to me?” Sy’s rage peaks.
“Hey, hey. Focus on my voice, come back. You don’t wanna do this,” you trail off as Sy calms down. 
His irises are back to their brilliant blue and you can see recognition in them. He looks tired, but he is no worse for wear.
“Can we get outta here? Go someplace we can just…talk?” Sy insists.
You think for a second about how pissed you are at Walter for being extremely callous about turning Sy, not to mention talking about you as if you were a piece of property to be owned. You turn to look back at Walter before answering Sy.
“Yeah, I’d like that,” you affirm, putting one of Sy’s arms around your neck to help him walk back to his truck. 
You watch Jace stand in front of Walter to stop him from following after you. “Let her cool off, you did just kinda refer to her as ‘what’s mine’, and generally women don’t like that outside of the bedroom.”
Olivia steps over to Walter, putting a hand on his shoulder, her expression calm and collected. “He won’t hurt her. He cares too much about her to do that.”
You get into the driver’s seat after putting Sy in the passenger side, not allowing him to drive. You caution a glance at Walter, instantly regretting looking at his mournful face. Turning the car on, you back out of the driveway and drive out to Sy’s place. 
As you drive there from muscle memory, you look over at Sy now and then. The streetlights of the town dash across his solemn face and bare chest as he sleeps. You almost don’t want to wake him when you make it to his house, he looks so peaceful and not like his life has been turned upside-down. You wake him with the back of your hand smoothing down his face. He grabs it, lost for a moment before he sees your face and where he is.
You help him get inside and suddenly feel exhausted as well. You loiter in the living room while he grabs a glass of water from the kitchen. You didn’t really plan how you were going to get back to Walter’s cabin tonight. And if you’re honest with yourself, you don’t want to go back tonight.
Sy comes back out, gulping down water from his glass while holding the blanket low around his middle. 
“Is it okay if we wait to talk? I’m tired as hell. I’ll take the couch if that’s alright?” You ask, sitting down on the couch and starting to move the pillows.
“You’re not staying out here. You’re sleeping in the bedroom. I’ll take the couch. I’ll grab you something to sleep in,” he rattles on, moving to the bedroom as you stand from the couch and look at your feet.
Sy comes back out to the living room. He’s barefoot, shirtless, and in a pair of grey sweatpants. He just can’t help himself, you think.
“I left you a shirt and some shorts on the bed. Let me know if you need anything, alright?” he advises, using a hand on the small of your back to guide you to the bedroom.
You laugh when you see Sy left you his Mötley Crüe shirt. While putting on the shirt and the boxers, you look at the bed and you know that you don’t want to sleep alone. You don’t care that this will only further complicate your relationship, but you need to not be alone right now. Your bare feet pad across the wood floor as you go back out to the living room. 
Sy hears you and picks his head up to look at you. “You alright, Bug?”
“I don’t wanna sleep alone. I know that’s probably−”
Sy was already up and ushering you back into the bedroom before you could finish your sentence. You pull back the covers so you both can climb in. You enter first and then he slides under the blanket next to you. He lays on his back, you on your side facing away from him. You wiggle your body backward until you come into contact with his warmth. You reach back for his arm and pull it around you.
“Is this okay?” you hesitate, suddenly afraid that you’re asking too much.
“Yeah. S’ok,” he whispers, his breath fanning across your neck. If he notices the shiver that goes down your spine, you’re grateful that he doesn’t mention it.
“Good night, Sy,” you murmur, yawning at the end of your sentence.
“G’night, Bug,” he breathes.
As you drift off to sleep, you think how different you imagined this day ending. You didn’t expect to be in your ex’s arms tonight instead of Walter’s. But you did expect to be in a werewolf’s embrace. Sy’s breath evens out behind you, the rising and falling of his chest against your back is enough to lull you into a peaceful slumber.
To be continued...
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A/N: I would love to know what you think of this chapter!
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158 notes · View notes
jealousjersey · 3 months
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☁️ rebound ☁️
˚ ༘ all it takes is for you and your boyfriend to break up for mike to confess his love to you.
˚ ༘ wc: 1.7k
˚ ༘ contains: smut, fluff, p in v unprotected, fingering, fem afab reader
˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚🧸ྀི˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚🧸ྀི˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚ ˚ ༘ ೀ⋆。˚
you’ve known mike for years, since high school. and during that time you knew each other but you never really talked. you had your boyfriend and he was just your best friend. you two experienced everything together, every concert, every lunch together, and every secret. mike knew everything about you. you always had been in love with him but you knew it’d just end poorly. .
recently you’ve started babysitting abby for him, helping him out. just to make his life a little easier.
but you’re boyfriend just admitted to cheating on you and you’re heartbroken. mike noticed the tear falling from your eyes. your (now ex) boyfriend called you from mikes house, telling you everything. about all the hookups he had when he was “with his friends”, all the late night phone calls he had with the girls you thought were your friends.
“hey, you okay?” he says, he stops as he’s getting ready to go to work. “yeah, yes i’m okay” you choke. “i’ll tell you when you get home, don’t worry about me right now. have a good day mike” you say. “well alright, but when i get back you’re telling me everything” he says as he grabs the keys to his truck.
“hey y/n!” abby comes out her room, ready to show you her new drawing of you. “are you crying?” she asks, walking up to you slowly. “no, no i’m okay abby, i love your drawing!” you say as you wipe your face. “okay!” she says as she brings her crayons to the living room to sit with you. you enjoy abby’s company, she’s like a ray of sunshine to you.
“you know my brother thinks your pretty” she drops on you out of nowhere. “oh he does?” you respond, genuinely curious. “yeah, he’s always talking about you. i think he likes you” she says, completely unfazed. she continues drawing for hours as you take a short nap on the couch. abby’s a good kid and you know she wouldn’t do anything to get in trouble.
you wake up to mike plopping down on the couch next to you “how long was i sleeping?” you think to yourself. “morning sleepyhead” he says with a grin. “was he always this flirtatious with me?” your mind races.
“morning i guess” you yawn. “so what was earlier about, why were you crying?” he asks. “oh. me and my boyfriend broke up. he cheated on me and told me everything.” you respond. mikes face got red, he was noticeably mad at the thought of anyone hurting you.
“he did what?” he asks, his voice more stern, more angry. “yeah, but i’m like over it now” you lie to yourself as your eyes start to tear again.
“hey listen, i never thought he deserved you. you’re worth so much more than this. he’s always been a dick.” he comforts you. it feels right. “maybe it was supposed to be you all along” you joke to him.
“yeah, maybe it was.” he jokes back, but his voice got more nervous. it didn’t sound like a joke. “maybe in another universe, huh?” he says back. “yeah, maybe.” you reply.
“if you want you can stay here tonight, you know, as friends” he suggests. “yeah that sounds nice” you say.
you both stay up for around 2 hours, talking about high school and reminiscing about how things were simpler. mike starts to yawn, “hey if you want you can sleep in my bed tonight. i can sleep on the couch” he says, “what? i don’t want to take your bed from you.” you reply
“we can sleep in the bed together” you say, as you hear it come out your mouth you quickly add “as friends” to avoid confusion. “sounds good” he says as he stands up and leads you to his room. he fixes his bed for you, putting the comforter back on it and fluffing his pillow for you.
mike pats on the bed, signaling for you to climb in. “you know, abby said something weird today” you mention. “oh yeah? what’d she say?” he’s expecting something about her art or school. “she said you think i’m pretty” you laugh. “that little snitch” he whispers. you hear him and respond. “hey, don’t shoot the messenger” you giggle.
“yeah, i do think you’re pretty, gorgeous actually.” he says, his face starting to turn a light shade of red. he twirls his fingers in a circle. he makes eye contact with you, you lean into him and just hug him. tears start to swell into your eyes as he pats your back and brings you in closer. “it should’ve been you mike. it was always you.” you confess to him.
“y/n i need to confess something to you.” he says, hugging you tighter. “yeah, what is it?” you reply. “i’ve always been in love with you. i knew i wanted to be with you since 9th grade but you and your boyfriend were always together so i thought i didn’t have a chance in hell. but i’m telling you now, im in love with you.” he says
your face flushes, tears still filling your eyes. “why didn’t you tell me sooner mike? i would’ve always chosen you.” you respond as you push him back on the bed and nuzzle your head on his chest, holding his hand. “mike, i love you. i always have and i think i always will. you were good to me.” you admit.
his heart is pounding at your words. he lets out a sharp exhale, like he regretted everything.
“are you being serious? or are you just on the rebound and want someone right now” he asks, his words hurt you. “yes mike, i do love you. it always should’ve been you and me.” you reassure him.
he moves his arm from behind his head and places it on the curve of your hip as he just stares at the ceiling, rethinking everything from his life. “i wish we could start over” he pauses for a moment. your head moves up to his and you kiss him on the cheek. it’s innocent and sweet. like it was always meant to be.
mikes jeans start to tent up, you look down and catch him. “uh mike, you got something in your pants” you laugh. you knew mike hasn’t been with anyone in a very long time so this isn’t surprising until you start to feel your clit pulsing at the thought. “oh shit, i’m sorry” he stammers. as he covers his bulge with a blanket. “no it’s okay” you giggle, you’ve never seen him do anything as fast as pull the comforter up. “no im sorry i didn’t mean to get hard, it’s-“ you cut him off with a kiss. but this time the kiss isn’t simple, it was rough, his tongue wanting to be in your mouth as his head tilts. you break the kiss first and he moans softly at the release.
“hold on i’m gonna go to the bathroom and get rid of this” he says pointing to his boner. “no it’s okay, i wanna help if you want me to” you suggest. “would it be weird if i said please?” he asks. you giggle as you place your hand onto his bulge. he groans at the touch of you. his jeans unbutton and he’s left in his boxers, needy for your touch.
you bring his boxers down and his dick springs out. mikes dick is above average with a vein shooting up it. his tip has precum coming out. “no this isn’t right, i want to comfort you. i don’t want you to feel like you have to do this” he says as he kisses your forehead. “i know i don’t have to do this, i want to. i’ve wanted to for a long time.” you respond as your hand wraps around his cock.
mike reaches his hand down your leggings after a nod from you. you’re radiating heat from your pussy and he feels as he slides your panties to the side and starts rubbing your clit in circles. “shit mike” you say as he creates that much needed friction. “yeah babygirl? you like that?” he moans as he kisses your neck. he knows just how to get you going. you groan at the nickname he gives you. your hand comes to a halt at his dick, now you’re hand is laying beside it.
you’re already to close to cumming as his fingers start to collect your wetness on them, bringing them to circle your clit again. his dick is rock hard now. “fuck me mike, i need you to fuck me” he groans at your words as he spreads your legs and takes your panties completely off.
his dick inserts your wet pussy, you hear him moan “fuck you feel better than i imagined” this caught you off guard. “you’re way better than i imagined” you reply. now he’s deep in thought. “you imagined me fucking you?” mike says as he pulls in and out at a slow pace, driving you crazy.
“only every time i had sex” you giggle, which is true. you’ve almost moaned mikes name many times in the past.
“well i’ve thought about you every night since 9th grade” he competes with you.
“hush and just fuck me baby” you say to him. you’re tightening around his cock as it’s twitching inside of you, you groan at the sensation. “fuck mike fuck i’m gonna cum” you yelp. “cum on my cock, let it drip down me” he replies. “cum inside me mike” you suggest.
he quickly takes you up on that offer as he dos exactly that. mike leaks inside up, pumping you full of sticky strings of white.
“holy FUCK” mike moans loudly. you start seeing stars after your quick orgasm.
he jumps up and cleans you up with his tongue, licking all over you. he has a towel in his bathroom closet that he grabs and runs under hot water, cleaning between your legs as they’re still shaking.
as your orgasm finishes mike lays back down with you and says “i need to do this right. do you want to go on a real date? because if i’m being honest, i need you. i need you today, tomorrow and the rest of my life. you are all i think about. all the time.” he admits. “yes mike, i’ll go on a date with you” you giggle. from now on it was always “y/n and mike”.
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94 notes · View notes
newtonsheffield · 1 month
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So Anthony is the player’s box (that apostrophe really stumped me and I’m still not convinced 🤔) Is he supportive, antagonistic, petty, quietly anxious? All of the above? Would love to see a snippet of him supporting Kate because apparently (and unsurprisingly) I am very specifically hooked on that. 🎾
Yeah he’s pretty much all of the above. Only he doesn’t want Kate to see most of it because he needs to be focused on herself. Not being being an idiot.
But he feels every shot when Kate plays. He Sits in the box and watches anxiously. He even feels nerves flutter through him when they have breakfast the morning of a final. Just a month after Wimbledon they’re having breakfast in her hotel room in New York and Anthony has no idea how to act.
“Are you… sure you don’t want coffee?”
Kate raised her eyebrows, “Why would I want coffee?”
Anthony hesitated, looking to Edwina for help. She scoffed, “All yours buddy.”
“It’s… just that you’re… drinking mine.”
Kate raised her eyebrows in question as if to say And? And Anthony decided not to push the topic, clearing his throat. “Nervous about today?”
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
He felt a little helpless, knowing there was nothing he could do for her even as they left the car with camera lights flashing and her fingers intertwined in his as people clamoured for her attention.
“You feel good right?” Anthony said, his stomach churning with anxiety for her as they stood outside the entrance to the dressing room. “No soreness or anything. No nerves?”
Kate shook her head, kissing his cheek. “You kept me calm I guess. I’ll see you after. Love you.”
Anthony nodded, kissing her quickly. “Love you. You’re gonna be great!”
Anxiety still churned as he took his seat between Mary and Edwina, “Fuck it is hard on this side of things.”
Mary hummed, waving as someone called her name. “It’s an art form.”
“Why am I nervous for her?”
He can hardly watch it, for his nerves honestly, leaning right forward. Leaping to his feet as her first serve is an ace.
“Yes, Baby!” He clapped his hands watching Kate’s lips curve in a smirk as she heard him.
It’s going well, right up until the beginning of the second set. When the ball clearly bounces out, and the Umpire says
“Point Cowper.”
“That was out.” Anthony gasped, turning to Mary who nodded.
“I thought it was.”
Kate did as well he thought, staring at the line. He could practically see the decision she was trying to make. Whether or not to challenge.
“That was out!” Anthony called over the murmuring crowd who wondered the same thing.
“Quiet on court.”
“That was OUT!” Anthony called again, standing with his hands on his hips and the Umpire turned looking him dead in the eye.
“Mr Bridgerton, don’t make me have you removed from the stands for coaching from the sidelines.”
Kate was laughing along with the crowd, blowing him a kiss as she walked towards the Umpire herself, saying something Anthony couldn’t hear.
“Sharma to challenge.”
And it’s with excellent satisfaction that the ball is in fact called out as Anthony settled back in his seat.
“Knew it.”
“You might want to pace yourself.” Mary chuckled, “I have a feeling you’re going to be doing this for a while. The support is… very sweet actually. Her Appa used to do the same for me.”
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kaminocasey · 1 year
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Drift This Way
Summary: *SEASON 2 SPOILERS* Tech wins the pod race. You can't help but express your worries.
A/N: I was gonna wait to post this tomorrow but I was just too excited. ALSO, @space-girl-and-droids-art inspired the tattoos mentioned, with THIS art!!!! STILL OBSESSED!!!!! <3
Pairing: Tech x Reader
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; None
WC: 1K
TAGLIST FORM
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Gif Credit: @starqueensthings
Tech won the riot race. It was both thrilling and terrifying. After seeing what happened to Tay-0, you were horrified. If that happened to Tech… you don’t know what you would have done with yourself. It’s not like you could put Tech back together like you did with Tay-0, twice.
“You’ve never done this before.” You grab Tech before he starts to walk over to the pod. “What if you crash and die?”
“The odds of that happening are-” He starts but the announcer starts to tell everyone to make their way to their pods.
You tighten your grip on his hands. “If you die, I won’t forgive you.”
He smiles ever so slightly. “Do not worry.” 
Your worrying was surprisingly for nothing. He was actually a natural. Which shouldn’t surprise you at this point. 
When you get back to Cid’s ship, Omega starts to talk about how they should go to more riot races but you quickly shut that idea down. When Hunter finds out, he’s probably going to blow a fuse. 
“Are you alright?” Tech asks when you sit down in the co-pilot seat.
You nod. “I’m fine. You?”
“I’m fine as well. I was referring to your earlier comments about not forgiving me if I died, though.” He raises an eyebrow as he looks at you.
“Oh. That.” You feel yourself go warm in the face with an awkward chuckle.
“That.” He nods. 
You shrug. “I don’t know… I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re so good at pod racing.” 
“You shouldn’t.” He teases, lightly and you roll your eyes.
You both are quiet for a bit, listening to Wrecker and Omega ask Cid more questions about pod racing. Cid starts to tell her about the legendary pod races that they had on Tatooine and Omega asks if you can go see them next. 
“NO.” You and Tech say, simultaneously.
Looking at each other, you can’t help but laugh. 
“You know… I have to admit, seeing you be confident in your racing was something.” You tell Tech when you get back to Ord Mantell. 
“Always the tone of surprise.” He tuts. 
You grin up at him as he sits at the bar in Cid’s. 
“It was nice to see you confident, is all.” You shrug, taking a sip of your drink.
“Do you prefer it when I’m confident?” He asks, leaning on the bar so that he can look at you.
Is Tech flirting? With you? “I think I like any version of you.”
“Noted.” He nods, drinking his own drink.
Later that night, you pace quietly in front of Tech and Echo’s room above Cid’s multiple times before giving up and starting to walk back to your own. 
“Is that you pacing outside my door?” Tech peeks his head out.
You look over at him, nervously. “Uh, yeah… sorry.” 
He walks out in just his sleep pants, his bare chest showing his tattoos that he’s gotten over the years. You’re taken by surprise. You didn’t peg Tech as the tattooed type. Also, how have you never seen him shirtless before now?
Your mind goes slightly blank at the sight of him. “Um…” He steps toward you, letting his door slide shut behind him and you meet him halfway, as if you can’t help but gravitate toward him. You always do.
“I’m sorry if it seemed like I didn’t believe in you today. I should have been more supportive.” You lean against the wall in between your doors. 
“It’s alright. I understand you were just worried.” He nods. “Even if I still don’t fully understand why.”
“Do you not?” You want desperately to reach out and trace the markings on his skin, to touch him.
He shrugs. “I have a couple of guesses.”
“Tell me.” You step closer to him. 
His lips part slightly as he looks down at you with fidgeting hands, as if he wants to reach out and touch you as well.
“My first guess is that you’d be upset that you would be down a pilot if something happened to me.” He murmurs.
You chuckle. “I think Echo and Wrecker could manage piloting.”
“Have you ever flown with Wrecker?” He asks and you know he’s being serious but you can’t help but laugh.
“Guess again…” Your fingers brush against his.
“Well…” He fixes his glasses with his other hand. “My next guess, I suppose, would be… you would be emotionally compromised or have some sort of fondness for me…”
You roll your eyes, amused. “That’s one way to put it.”
“I… also have a fondness for you.” He glances down at your lips. 
Your heart skips a beat at the goggled genius’ confession. A confession you were sure you’d never hear. Tech feels about you the way that you do for him. 
“Really?” You ask, feeling brave enough to slide your hand up his warm chest, settling over the skull and 99 tattoos.
“Really.” He takes your hand and holds it there… over his heart. 
Reaching up on your toes, you brush your lips over his lightly and timidly. Tech slides his arm around your lower back, pulling you close to him, deepening the kiss. Being confident, you realize. He sighs softly into the kiss, as if he’d been waiting for this just as long as you had. 
You both hear a throat clear and quickly pull away from each other to look in time to see Echo walk into his and Tech’s room. With a roll of his eyes, Tech shakes his head at the intrusion.
But when he looks back at you, it’s full of adoration and kindness. “Maybe I ought to risk my life more often, if it incites a reaction out of you like that.”
“Very funny.” You pull him back to you so you can kiss him again. 
“Do you two mind?” Hunter’s voice is in the hallway next. 
“Maker…” You groan. 
“I’ve got an idea.” Tech smirks, walking back to his room to put on a shirt and then coming back out. “The Marauder is currently unoccupied.” 
“You’re a genius.” You kiss his shoulder as he leads you down the back steps that lead to the outside.
“Of course I am, darling.” He smirks.
TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @rebel-finn @grievouus @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @crosshairmylove587 @idlenesses @redheadgirl @dnxgma @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @brownstalebread @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaws @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @greaser-wolf @moonstrider9904 @tubble-wubble
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081314 · 1 year
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Silver (Vignette) – Dorm Uniform
Following is my translation of the vignette from Silver’s Dorm Uniform card.
Spoilers after the cut!
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Part 1
???: …..ake…up.…ver… Oiii. Wake up, Silver!
Silver: ….hn…Kalim?
Kalim: Thank goodness you’re finally awake! We’re in the middle of our potionology class right now, you know.
Silver: Yeah…… Did I fall asleep again? Thank you for waking me up, Kalim.
Kalim: Of course! Anyways, you were totally zonked out there. You feeling OK?
Silver: Yes, I’m fine. No problems here.
???: Well, I’m certainly relieved to hear that. That means I don’t have to hold back when I discipline you, you little mongrel.
Kalim / Silver: ……..!
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Kalim: Ah- Crewel Sensei!?
Crewel: You bad boy… you have some nerve taking a nap during my class.
Silver: I’m sorry.
Crewel: A rather curt apology, don’t you think? Do you truly feel sorry?
Silver: I do.
Crewel: Doesn’t look like it at all… Good grief. As punishment for falling asleep during class, I’m going to have you stay after and collect everyone’s reports for me. Once you’ve gotten every single one of them, bring them all to me. Understood?
Silver: Understood.
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(After Class)
Silver: Can I collect your report?
Classmate A: Ah, Silver! Could you wait a bit? I’m almost done writing mine.
Silver: When do you think you’ll be done?
Classmate A: Give me five… no, three minutes!
Silver: Alright. I’ll go work my way around the rest of the classroom for now.
Classmate A: O-Okay. Sorry for the bother.
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(Silver departs)
Classmate A: Pfew. Man, I was nervous for a second there. He was totally stone-faced, but do you think he was pissed off just now?
Classmate B: Don’t ask me. Guy’s always making the same exact face.
Classmate C: His expression didn’t change a bit when Crewel was ripping him a new one, either. And whenever everybody’s having fun, he doesn’t smile or anything.
Silver: …Hm? Are those students I spoke with earlier talking about me?
Classmate B: Honestly, it’s hard to say if the guy even has any emotions at all.
Classmate C: And he hardly ever says a word, so you can never tell if what you’re saying is getting through to him…… He’s just really hard to approach.
Classmate A: Yeah, I get what you mean. He really wears you out. But I guess we shouldn’t expect anything less from a member of the facepalm brigade…
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Silver: ……! I never knew my scant facial expressions put such a burden on those around me….
Kalim: Hey, Silver! Here you go! I brought you my report.
Silver: ….Kalim.
Kalim: Hey, what’s the matter? You seem off. You hungry, maybe?
Silver: No, I’m not hungry.
Kalim: Wait, I got it! You’re worried about getting a good grade on your report, aren��t you! The assignment this time was really rough, huh. I was totally freaking out about it, but then Jamil came and helped me out and we somehow got it all done. Thank goodness!
Silver (whispering to himself): …..If I could learn to be as expressive as him, then maybe I wouldn’t cause so much trouble for everyone.
Classmate D: Hey, Kalim! Remember when we were talking earlier about me wanting to get permission to spend the night away from the dorm….
Kalim: Oh, yeah! So if you want to do that, you just have to….
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Kalim: ….My bad, Silver. I didn’t mean to cut off our conversation like that. Now tell me one more time what you were saying before!
Silver: No, it was nothing. Please forget about it.
Kalim: Really? Well, if you say so.
Silver: …..Kalim, would you lend your ear to a request I have?
Kalim: You got a request for me? Absolutely, you can count on me!
Silver: Thank you, you’re really helping me out here. Please, give me a bit of your time after school today.
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Part 2 (After school)
Silver: Kalim. And you as well, Jamil. Thank you for taking the time to come all the way out here for me.
Kalim: Of course, that’s what friends are for! Right, Jamil?
Jamil: What do you mean, “Right”? You dragged me here against my will. ….Whatever. You said you had a request for Kalim? Let’s hear it, then.
Silver: The fact of the matter is, I… would like for you to instruct me in the art of being expressive.
Jamil / Kalim: What? / Huh?
Jamil: Uhh, and just why would you like him to do that?
Silver: The truth is…
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Jamil: …I see. Your classmates said you’re difficult to approach since they can’t tell how you’re feeling. Well, I can’t honestly say I don’t also find you a bit hard to read.
Silver: You really think so? It seems that due to my limited range of facial expressions, I’ve been causing a lot of trouble for those around me without even realizing it. That’s why I want to work on this. Are you willing to help me?
Kalim: But you’re such a nice guy, Silver. I honestly don’t think you’re hard to approach at all…. But if this is really what you want to do, then of course I’ll lend you a hand. And Jamil will help, too!
Jamil: Geez… Fine. But only because I know there’s no use trying to get Kalim to listen to me now. I’ll play along, but don’t get your hopes up.
Silver: Kalim, Jamil… Thank you both. Let’s get straight to the point, then. Kalim, what do you normally do in order to outwardly express your emotions?
Kalim: Aaah, what do I do? Uuh… Hmm… What is it that I do.… What I always keep in mind is…
Silver: What you keep in mind is…?
Kalim: I tried to think of something, but I guess I don’t really do anything in particular! Ah ha ha!
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Jamil: And that’s just the type of guy you’ve always been….
Silver: I see. So it’s like your face just flits between one expression to the next all on its own, without you even having to think about it. I wish I could get to that level, but…
Kalim: You’re way overthinking this, aren’t you? Whether it’s happiness or sadness, or anything else… As long as you yourself understand how you’re feeling in that moment, it’ll show on your face.
Silver: I understand… Then I need to consciously focus on how I’m feeling. You’ve given me some really insightful advice, Kalim. Thank you. I’ll try it out right away.
Kalim: No problem! So, how are you feeling right now?
Silver: I’m feeling worried about whether I’ll be able to successfully change my facial expressions.
Jamil: That doesn’t surprise me. Why don’t you go ahead and try expressing that emotion you’re feeling right now, then?
Kalim: Just grab hold of that worried feeling and try to express it with your face!
Silver: Very well. Here I go, then. A worried feeling, a worried feeling….
Jamil / Kalim: ………..
Silver: How’s this?
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Jamil / Kalim: Huh?
Jamil: You can’t be serious. Is that supposed to be what you look like when you’re worried?
Kalim: Here I was thinking you just hadn’t gotten started yet. Ah ha ha! Your face totally didn’t change at all!
Silver: I was certain I’d be able to pull it off… but it’s a lot harder than I anticipated.
Kalim: Aww, I thought for sure that method would work out great. Jamil, do you have any other good  ideas?
Jamil: Let’s see…. How about you do some face training? Like practicing holding a smile for a certain period of time.
Silver: Ah, it is true that muscles will waste away if you don’t use them. Maybe since I haven’t been doing enough to train my facial muscles, that’s why it’s so hard for me to look more expressive. But seeing as I couldn’t even move my face the way I wanted to just now, I’m not sure how I should go about this…
Jamil: How about you just start with using your hands to push up your cheeks into a smile?
Silver: Yes, that sounds doable. Alright, I’ll give it a shot. I just have to push up my cheeks and smile………… Ack!
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Kalim: Huh? What’s wrong, Silver? Why’s your face all scrunched up?!
Silver: I think my cheeks are cramping…
Jamil: I guess he really doesn’t use those muscles that much after all…
Sebek: Oi, Silver. What is all this racket about?
Silver: Hmm? Oh, it’s you, Sebek.
Jamil: Looks like there’s a bunch of Diasomnia students just getting back to the dorm right now… We don’t want to overstay our welcome. Come on, Kalim. It’s time for us to go.  
Kalim: Wha- But Silver still hasn't been able to express his feelings with his face yet.
Silver: It’s alright. I hadn’t meant to take up so much of your time, anyways. You already helped me a lot, Kalim. Thanks to you two, I’ve got a rough idea of how I can solve this problem. I’ll handle on it my own from here.
Kalim: Oh, okay. Well, I’m glad we were able to help you out! We’ll be heading back to our dorm now, but if you need help with anything else, just give me a shout!
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Silver: Of course. Thank you both so much.
(Kalim and Jamil depart)
Sebek: Why were those Scarabia students at our dorm? Just what in the world is going on?
Silver: So what happened is…
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Sebek: Ha, how absurd! You needn’t mind whatever a couple of humans say to you.
Silver: That’s not true. I am Lord Malleus’s guard, after all. Don’t you think a guard’s reputation can have an impact on his master?
Sebek: Hmph. As if the awesome might of the young Lord could ever be debased by such a trivial matter! ….However, I cannot stand by and let even the slightest of specks sully his good name. I have no other choice. I shall assist you.
Silver: Really?
Sebek: Yes, I never go back on my word. And you shan’t need to do anymore of those idiotic face exercises, either.
Silver: But why? I thought it’d be a great way to develop my emotive repertoire.
Sebek: It’s because you hadn’t any need to do such a thing in the first place. Let us carry out today’s training in the school courtyard today, rather than here at the dorm. Come, we must depart immediately.
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Silver: I mean, that’s fine with me, but… what’s with this all of a sudden? Since you said earlier you were going to help me, does that mean you have something in mind for when we train?
Sebek: You shall understand once the time comes. Now enough with your quibbling and follow me.
Silver: Hmm. Alright.
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Part 3
Silver: We’ve reached the courtyard, Sebek. What should I do now?
Sebek: You needn’t do anything extraordinary. Simply train with me as we usually do. Prepare yourself. We’re starting now. Yaaah!
Silver: …..!
(Sebek rushes at Silver)
Silver: I can’t believe you were able to rush up to me so quickly like that. I didn’t even have enough time to assume my stance.
Sebek: Oh? You say that, and yet you parried my attack with ease, did you not?
Silver: That’s because I’ve done a lot of training in preparation for surprise attacks like this. It’s my turn now…. Haah!
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(Silver runs to attack Sebek)
Sebek: Argh…!
Heartslabyul Student: Hey, what’s going on over there? Somebody havin’ a fight?
Savanaclaw Student: Looks like something interesting, whatever it is. Let’s go take a look see!
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Classmate A: Hm? Why are all those people gathering in the courtyard? They’re all looking at… Wait, that’s Silver!?
Classmate B: The heck is he doing? Come on, let’s check it out!
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Silver: Those blows you’re aiming at my legs sure have slowed down a lot since I repelled you with my baton earlier. You really think you can beat me like that?
Sebek: Tsch… This battle isn’t over yet!
(Sebek attacks Silver and it sounds like something falls to the ground)
Silver: ….!
Sebek: How’s that? I’ve sent your baton flying!
Silver: You did. And I could feel you were putting your whole weight into it when you swung your baton at me. Haha..…! Sebek, you really are amazing. All that training you’ve been doing is bearing fruit.
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Sebek: Naturally. And just you watch. Before long, I shall far, far surpass you.  
Silver: Yeah, we need to keep getting stronger… Let’s continue!
Classmate A: Uhh, stone-faced Silver just smiled….
Classmate B: I never heard him shout so much before. And he’s really enthusiastic about looking after his Kouhai, huh. I never would have thought…
Classmate C:  The heck!? I always pegged him for one of those “cool-looking yet distant” type of guys, but right now, he’s like the complete opposite…..
Lilia: Kufufu. He’s just as impassioned as ever!
Classmates: Huh!?
Classmate A: Is that… Is that Vanrouge Senpai standing over there? And next to him is… M-Malleus Draconia Senpai!?
Malleus: My, so they’ve decided to hold their training session out here today. Silver always has such a piercing look to his eyes whenever he trains.
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Lilia: That just shows how seriously he takes it. Kufufu. Even so, just look at that lovely smile. He’s so happy to see how much his fellow disciple has grown so far, as though Sebek’s achievements were his very own.
Malleus: Indeed. And that’s because he’s such an empathetic human – one who's always been so considerate of the joys and sorrows of those around him.
Lilia: Mm-hmm. Even though he hides his own fiery emotions beneath that poker face of his.
Malleus: I think rather than hiding anything, it’s more so that his emotions just don’t show on his face…
Lilia: You could say that, sure. But I’ve always found he’s plenty easy to read.
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Classmates: …….
Classmate B: So, putting it another way…. Silver really does have feelings?
Classmate C: I think we might’ve had the wrong idea about him….
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Silver: Haaah…haaah…. I didn’t even realize the sun had already set. Let’s end our training here for today.
Sebek: Haaah…. Yes, that sounds good.
Classmate A: Heeeey, Silver!
Silver: Hmm?
Classmate B: Man, you were freakin’ awesome back there!! You’re not half bad at all.
Classmate C: We’ll see you tomorrow!
Silver: ….? Yes, until tomorrow.
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(The Classmates depart)
Sebek: It seems they were observing us during our training. Are they classmates of yours?
Silver: Yeah, it’s just….
Sebek: What is it? If you’ve got something on your mind, then spit it out.
Silver: Those were the classmates I was bothering earlier. I’m surprised they called out to me like that.
Sebek: Ah, so those were the students in question. Huh. I was thinking that if they were to watch you while we trained, they wouldn’t have any more complaints about your being unexpressive…. Ah ha ha ha ha!  Judging by their reactions just now, it appears my plan was a success!
Silver: Your plan? So that’s why you wanted to come train out here in the courtyard.
Sebek: Have you finally realized it now, you dimwit? Should you again cross paths with those who find fault in you over the most ridiculous of things, you need to show them just what kind of a person you really are. And then, you must force them to yield to you. Such that you dispossess them of any and all desire they might have to cavil at you ever again!! At any rate, you certainly aren’t suited for all this dilly-dallying. If you have the time for such nonsense, I should think it would be better spent on doing some physical exercise or whatnot.
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Silver: I’m not really sure I liked the way you put that, but… Basically, you’re saying I don’t need to change?
Sebek: Hmph. I was merely trying to show you that it's foolish to change who you are as a person just for the sake of a couple of liars.
Silver: ….Is that so. Thank you, Sebek. Thanks to you, I feel a lot better now.
Sebek: You have no reason to thank me. Everything I did, I did it for the young Lord’s sake!
Silver: I get that. But still… Thank you, truly.
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You can read my translation of this card's voice lines here!
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hcdragonwrites · 9 months
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River (Jttw-Monkeybuisness)
Ok I wrote another thing for @jttw-monkeybusiness there art inspires me and makes my brain itch and honestly I love Sophie to death so here you go!
And yes I suck at naming things when they are snippets of stuff I just usually name it what it’s about.
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‘Getting water should be easy’ Sophie thought.
However it seemed that whatever gods were watching their trek today through China must have been bored and made this their entertainment for the evening.
Force the girl Buddha had plucked out of time to get water. Well it was unfair to assume it was the Buddha but whatever magical force actually had pulled her out of her time? Well that being was a massive dick. Sophie strained her arm, feeling the sway of the tree branch she clung to bobbed under her weight.
The banks of this river were steep as Trip and the group were making their way through mountains. The steep sides slide right into the dark water, rushing by in silent swirls of black- and offering no safe place for any traveler to easily reach it. The tree branch that Sophie now climbed upon, hung low enough off the steep riverbank, almost kissing the water with its bark. Moss had begun to grow from its limbs from the constant moisture. It offered Sophie a perfect opportunity.
She had both legs and arm hooked around the branch as it swayed, one free hand straining forward and dipping the water skins into the dark flow.
Jesus it’s freezing, she thought as her fingers dipped beneath the black current. Must be a runoff from a snow melt… If she fell into it she would be soaked and cold to the bone. Sophie shook herself, scattering that intrusive thought.
‘Only two more skins to go…’. She yanked the first one up, muscles burning. She lay flat, stomach hugging the branch and trying not to slip. Sophie wasn’t the most athletic person but she wasn’t a pushover either. Getting water was something she could do. Maybe she couldn’t fight Gods and humble the heavens like Wukong. Maybe she couldn’t breathe underwater and spear demons like Sandy.
Pigsy- well he was a fighter but mostly she had seen him run either away from a fight, pick a fight with Wukong, or fight to run towards women. Most of the time those women were demons in disguise that Wukong warned about. Sandy and her had a betting game going on silently between themselves as to which women were women and which were demons that wanted to devour Trip or herself. Mostly Trip but sometimes she would be mentioned.
So far the score was tipping in Sandy’s favor(who guessed mostly that the women they ran into were real women)- but only because the last village they had been in had been plagued by a child devouring rat demon. It was a morbid kind of way to make light of a situation that just kept recurring as Pisgy never learned.
Tripitaka even had his own abilities to commend, if some of those abilities didn’t translate over to combat. Staying still, meditating, being able to see the good in everyone - Sophie could hear Wukong now, thoroughly ripping into Trip for that belief- those were all traits that helped.
Sophie- a Girl out of time- was determined to have her own uses.
And if that was just doing minimal tasks then she would be GRAND at them!
She uncorked the last water skin and dipped it beneath the water as twilight began to descend into the gorge. The water turned black by the lack of light made Sophie’s stomach twist just a bit. There’s nothing in the water Sophie- nothing at all.
Her reassurances fell short. She had seen too much of demons and gods and magical mojo to really believe that nothing was staring up at her.
What happened next was a factor of several things. The first of those things we can lay blame at the feet of one Monkey King.
Sun Wukong had been given the task of collecting some fresh meat for the stew Trip was preparing and had sent Wukong to find some. The meat was mostly for Sophie and the rest but Trip would also partake. Being a Buddhist he usually kept to a strict vegetarian diet of noodles and soups. However, even he understood that on the road the pilgrims did not have much choice in diet.
So Wukong had gone, easily catching several rabbits and a large goose from further down the river. After his return and depositing them at Pigsys feet to be cleaned and prepped, Wukong was disappointed in the lack of praise. Usually bringing in a haul of food would give him some thanks- however the person that usually did the thanking was … missing.
“Where is the Reader?” Wukong demanded, arms crossing and tail lashing in annoyance.
Pigsy looked up at him from beneath bushy eyebrows. “Sophie,” Pigsy drawled, taking the first rabbit and cutting it clean of its pelt, “went to fill the water skins.”
“Alone? No one thought to go with her?” Wukong made a scoffing noise. Between her and the Monk there had been too many occasions where a demon had taken them as bait to lure out the infamous Monkey King. Didn’t she know by now that she couldn’t just wander off?
“She is not a Child, Brother.” Sandy interjected. The great water demon was sitting cross legged at the fire, stirring the pot. As Pigsy quickly and methodically cleaned the animals, Sandy was just as quick in adding them to the stew. The aroma was already becoming tantalizing. “She wanted a task and was given one. You know she does not like to be idle when there are things to do.”
“I wasn’t saying idleness was the correct answer.” Wukong picked at an invisible dust mote on his sleeve and flicked it away. He was feigning boredom when in reality he felt an itch under his fur. It was his responsibility to keep the mortals safe on this quest.
That included Trip and Sophie. The monk was easy to keep in one place, unless there were people that kept begging for help. Which - happened more than Wukong would care to admit.Sophie was … not so easily manageable.
That stupid women wanted to be as helpful as possible. Whether that be fetching supplies in town, carrying messages for the monk, or even tending to Yulong, she was always trying to keep busy. Which wouldn’t have been a problem for the Monkey King if it didn’t make his fur itch terribly so.
The itching would only go away after he knew she hadn’t gotten eaten by some wannabe river god.
“She needs to wait until I am back. Then she could have asked me for my help and I would have obliged.”
“I think the monkey likes Sophie.” Pigsy mock stage whispered, earning a murderous glare from Wukong. Pigsy flinched back, rubbing at the phantom pain on his head from the last time he had egged Wukong on a bit too much.
“She is only down by the river.” Sandy peacefully interjected before Wukong to react to Pigsys tone. “Just past the bend- I made sure she knew not to go farther.”
At least Sandy knew how danger inclined the mortals in their group were.
Wukong turned and left the camp, walking to the river not far off. The women wasn’t too far away to warrant an escort- she had learned from the last couple of times of almost being devoured or snatched up to not wander so far- but his fur wouldn’t lie flat on his shoulders. It itched terribly so. The sooner he could see her, the sooner the itching would go away.
As he came around the bend he saw her. Sophie was clinging to a tree that looked like it could be swept away into the river at any moment, legs hugging the branch as one hand dipped into the water. Her hair hung down, almost skimming the black surface. Wukongs fur stopped itching and he smoothed it down. Since no one but he was near Sophie to see, and she being too occupied by the river to even notice, he decided to indulge himself and stared openly.
When she had first joined their pilgrimage he had been pissed. Another human to take care of, to babysit, to feed was not what Sun Wukong, Great Sage Equal to Heaven, had signed up for. If he was being honest with himself, none of this pilgrimage was what Wukong had voluntarily signed up for.
Sophie was strange to boot. Fair of skin, eyes and hair, she looked like a spirit from some heavenly court. However she did not act like any women in the Jade Emperor's Palace, because on one of the more ridiculous of their days where The monk had almost been married to a demon queen and Wukong had to break through and kill a little too much, Sophie had let loose a string of curses that were so foreign and colorful that the Monkey King had been momentarily shaken from his indifference at her to turn and inquire to what those phrases even meant.
It had been the start to something Wukong would never admit openly to. It had grown since that day as he learned that, while she may look pretty, she was no women in courtly garb or village outpost. She had a sharp mind, always asking questions and trying to figure out the why and the how of everything. Why did Wukong have a staff that could shrink and be tucked in his ear? Where had Wukong learned to shapeshifter? How had he been able to master duplicating himself with just a bit of fur and spit?
Sophie was open about questions of herself- where she had come from, what she had done before (something about being an artist) and why she looked the way she did (this last bit was rude on Wukongs part and had had the monk use the circlet around his brow as a reprimand. ‘We don’t ask why they look a certain way Wukong," he had said. The Monkey king had not meant it rudley- more or less he just wanted to know where in the world other people like her existed - that looked like her.)
She didn’t like blood so that was a bit of a downside. But an upside was she wasn’t afraid to go toe to toe when the Monk was being so incredibly and unreasonably unfair in his punishments. Wukong didn’t kill too much. Just enough.
Wukong hadn’t had anyone stick up for him like that.
So Sun Wukong decided to play- though no one else would see it as such. Tormenting and teasing and egging and goading were usually not considered human equivalencies of play. On Flower Fruit Mountain those had been the height of games and pastimes. Finding the little things that would itch someone’s skin, that could in turn get right beneath the armor of good words and embarrass the person enough to stumble out of their rehearsed facade and reveal the true self was a specialty of the Monkey Kings. He had done so with all the attendants in Heaven, with all the would-be demon conquerors that marched onto his doorstep. Dig at something long enough and you will find what makes them tick
So Wukong poked at Sophie’s person. He took things from her bag when bored and kept them away (it wasn’t hard and he didn’t have to even make himself bigger to do so). Wukong would try and goad her into playing pranks with him, sometimes even dragging her halfway through one before letting her know that it was a prank. He would answer her questions, insult her intelligence by calling her stupid women, and challenge her on her moral standings. He did everything in the monkey fashion that would be considered teasing and mildly bullying to figure out who she was.
He didn’t realize till it was too late that this had become more than a game to him. He was enjoying this.
Wukong didn’t get to watch her openly. Pigsy would think him infatuated with her and then he would become insufferable. That couldn’t happen. So Wukong would steal glimpses, brush shoulders, take hidden moments like when Sophie had turned to him, eyes shining and bright, and had begged to be lifted up so she could pet a few monkeys perched within a tree. Wukong could still feel the weight of her on his arm, the smell of her. She had been so enamored with the monkeys above that he didn’t have to worry. He could watch her without disguise.
Like he was now. Her face was screwed up in concentration, lip between her teeth as she corked the water skin and swung it onto the bank. She may be a weak mortal but she had good aim. Sophie placed the last one in the water, blue eyes glittering in the twilight. He would have to teach her how to properly hang. She was so limited in movement on that branch, clinging to it like a cat. It was improper and she could still easily slip into the water and be lost. It was a good thing Wukong was here then.
So it was, in part, the Monkey Kings fault for what happened next. And in part, Sophie’s mind is at fault. Wukong was as silent as a tiger, walking up and onto the tree without a sound. And as he was silent and watching, Sophie’s mind was loud and preoccupied.
She only had one more skin to fill but her mind wouldn’t let go of the thought of there being some beast or creature watching her. Waiting for her. It was just like the irrational fear children get when they swim into the deep part of a swimming pool- that somehow someway a shark would come from the clear cemented depths and devour them.
Only- this wasn’t a clear swimming pool. And this wasn’t some childhood fear anymore. Sophie had seen Tripataka almost go underwater from a river monsters grasping hands. If it hadn’t been for Sandy at that time, the monk would have drowned. She shivered. The sooner she got back to camp and away from the spooky dark water and the night, the better.
“There!” She felt the weight was sufficient enough and quickly corked the water skin. Sophie could get down now, off this tree and back into the warm and comforting light of the fire. Maybe she could ask Wukong for another of his stories- well histories as he called them. He was good at telling stories- if they were centered around himself. She went to throw the water skin, already calming down—
Eyes.
Glowing eyes watching her from above. Something human shaped in the foliage—
“Fucking shit!”
Panic set in and instinct. She flinched back, dropping the skin—
And slipping headfirst into the water. The cold shocked her body, screaming for her to get UP GET OUT DANGER- and she kicked back to the surface, spluttering. The current however was stronger than she thought and was already yanking her down to begin with. Her clothes were a weight that the water happily tugged down, mangling it with the current.
Something shot out and grabbed her around the middle and pulled.
OH GODS THERE IS A WATER DEMON THATS IN HERE! Sophie swung out, flailing wildly to get free. Her hands hit something but it was like hitting stone. She would not end up as someone’s meal or bride or servant or anything else. The thing that had a grip on her didn’t let go. But it didn’t haul her under- it hauled her up. As she breached the surface, she spat water from between her lips, her hair blocking her face.
She breathed in just enough air to start threatening.
“WHOEVER OR WHATEVER YOU ARE, JUST KNOW IF YOU EAT ME YOU WILL REGRET IT.” Sophie breathed in more air so she could get louder- if she was loud enough maybe Sandy or Pigsy would hear. If Wukong was back he would definitely hear her. She had to fight until she could get enough air in her lungs to holler louder. She swung again, connecting to what felt like a face- but it was like runing her hand into a brick wall. “I HAVE A FRIEND WHOS THE BEST MONKEY IN THE WHOLE WORLD WHO WILL SKIN YOU—“
Another hand caught her wrist, holding away. Sophie would just have to swing her free hand around and —
“Stop fucking flailing women you will bring the whole branch back into the river !” The person hissed and Sophie paused. She pulled the wet hair out of her face with her free hand.
“Wukong?”
The Monkey King was holding her close, one arm wrapped around her middle and the other holding one of her previously flailing wrists. His eyes were narrowed to angry yellow slits.
“You idiot who else would it be ?” His face was wet from where Sophie must have obviously punched him and splashed water at him.
“What are you doing out here- I thought-“
“I came to fetch you since you were taking so long and everyone was worrying about you.” He adjusted his grip, and hopped off the branch and back onto solid earth. “Then you had to go and dunk yourself into the river like a fool and I had to fish you out. I was also able to get the water skin you almost lost. ” He held up the skin, tossing it onto the bank.
“I didn’t dunk myself in the river !” Sophie pushed off of Wukong and he let her go, crossing his arms. “If you weren’t spookily hiding in the branches with your glowing eyes I wouldn’t have panicked and lost my grip!”
“I can’t believe you hit me…”
“Of course I would hit you! I DIDN'T KNOW IT WAS YOU!” Sophie shouted.
“You should know me enough by now that I’m not like every other gripping demon out there!”
“Wukong how would I know when I’m half drowning in the water and I can’t see you?!” Sophie countered. He rolled his eyes, collecting the cast off water skins she had thrown onto the bank, grumbling about mortals and being blind.
“What were you doing?”
Wukong didn’t reply to her, his tail twitching agitatedly. Sophie looked down at herself. She was drenched from head to bare foot in water. Her skin was already starting to break out in goosebumps as the sun sank behind the mountains, casting the gorge into shadow.
“Why were you hiding in the branches?” Sophie pressed, collecting her shoes and holding them in hand. She would have to be careful walking back not to step on anything. Putting her shoes on now would only get them wet from her pant legs being sodden. Wet shoes were also not fun to walk in and they had a long trek tomorrow. Trip wanted to get to the next monastery and have as he liked to call it “an honest meal” which mostly consisted of mushrooms, noodles and broth. Trip was a vegetarian by nature but on the journey he did at times have to make sacrifices.
“Again I wasn’t hiding. The great Sun Wukong doesn’t hide.” Wukong replied, combing his wet fur back into place. “I was coming to fetch you and bring you back for supper. It’s not my fault you didn’t hear me.”
“Did you call out to me?”
“I was making enough noise a deaf and blind beggar could have heard me!” Wukong patted his pant leg where the majority of the water had gotten onto him. It wasn’t as bad as the full drenching Sophie had taken.
Sophie could smell the lie even as Wukong ignored her angry glower.
“Bull-bull s-shit!” She challenged but it came out between chattering teeth. Fuck it got cold fast.
Wukong paused in his own musings, hands pausing in inspecting himself and turned. He peered up into Sophie’s face, so close that he was almost nose to nose. The Monkey King looked at her eyes, down to her lips, then across the rest of her.
“Um… Wukong?”
“You're cold.” Wukong tapped his own lips, and pointed out the raised goose flesh on her arms. “Blue lips and bumps mean cold” His voice was much softer now. “Stupid women.”
He stepped back, hands crossing over his chest again. He looked her up and down then demanded “Take that off.”
“Excuse me?!”
“I’ll turn around, just take off your wet shirt!” Wukong shouted back. “You have those dry … er, shorts right?”
“Yes back in my bag.”
Wukong nodded once.
“Good. Take off your shirt.” He turned around, good to his word.
Sophie did so- shivering as the cold air clung to her skin. The cloth was heavy with water and she sighed. It wouldn’t be dry until well into tomorrow- she would be forced to wear her ‘otherworldly’ clothing. It was fine by her but if they stopped by a village it also meant she would have to wait outside. Sophie had learned the last time that walking into a village with odd clothes could be one of several different reactions, all mostly negative and involving the villagers calling her a demon or witch. Or throwing rocks at her. As she peeled herself free from the sodden clothing the night air kissed her skin and sent her teeth chattering harder. “D-done.”
Wukong hadn’t turned around but he had divested himself of his own robed shirt, holding it out and behind himself. Sophie tried not to stare at his back too long.
“Put it on.” It was kindness Sophie wasn’t expecting. Wukong, the last time he had given her his shirt to wear, had been an order from Tripataka. She had to wash her clothes after a heavy rainstorm had her falling in mud. Of course she had had no spare tops- they all needed to be washed from the travel smell and the dirt. So Trip had ordered Wukong to give up his shirt. It hadn’t been willing kindness but Sophie had still taken it as that.
But this? This was unexpected. Sophie opened her mouth to reply when Wukong continued, “I can’t believe I’m going to have to wash it again of your stink.”
Well so much for kindness. Sophie thought. First the monkey had scared her into the river. Then he had rescued her and blamed her for falling in? All because she couldn’t hear him? She didn’t believe that- not for a second. Great Sage Equal to Heaven Sun Wukong had not been walking loudly. He hadn’t even tried to call out to her to get her attention. What had he been doing when he was on the branch? How long had he been there?
Well, Sophie thought, I should be more aware of my surroundings- or at least not let my mind run away with the rest of my senses.
Though in all fairness if Wukong had wanted to sneak up on her, she would never have known. He was too quiet for his own good and it played into how well he could slip frogs into Pigsys blanket roll.
Sophie shrugged the shirt up and over her head, feeling the residual warmth from Wukong already transferring to her skin.
“At least you won’t get sick and worry the Monk.” Wukong said. Sophie tapped his shoulder and he turned. Without asking, he grabbed her sodden shirt and held it out in front of him.
He may have caused her to fall in. He may have been trying to scare her or something else. But he had pulled her out of the river. He had given her his shirt- free of an order. Sophie was beginning to read the guilt through his actions. Whatever Wukong had meant to do- he hadn’t meant to do that.
“…. Thank you Wukong.”
He grunted, holding Sophie’s shirt in one hand like someone would hold a gross bug.
“What would you do without me? You are completely incapable of keeping yourself safe. Too weak to fight, and too uncoordinated to even balance properly. What were you doing using only one arm for the water? You should have hooked your legs over the trunk instead. ” Wukong walked only a pace ahead of Sophie, slowing whenever she winced over the ground. At least the ground was only slightly rocky here.
“Maybe I wouldn’t fall in rivers because the person that is so worried about my safety didn’t just scare me half to death.” She shot and Wukong merely grinned wider.
“ It seems you forget how to say ‘You are Welcome Wukong’ ! It was just a dip in the water and I was right there to keep you from drowning.”
“Uh huh.”
“ It was needed.” He sniffed the drenched clothing and grimaced, a twinkle of mischief in his eyes. “You did stink.”
“Oh hahaha let me laugh it up- not like there’s soap and a bathtub waiting at every spot we stop.” Sophie rubbed her arms, pulling her hair back from her face to tuck behind her ears. “You stink too when you come back from slaughtering half a hoard of demons ya know?”
“I take care of myself. Unlike you.”
“I thought you were some river monster coming to drown me and eat my bones you ass.” Sophie tilted her head and squeezed some water off the edges of her hair. She was going to need a brush, the bits of hair already curling and tangling together. “Lurking in the shadows above me is not a way to reassure a girl you aren’t there to devour them.”
“All the more reason,” Wukong crowed, “Not to go without an escort. If you are going to go anywhere, you have to take me with you. You are in a King's care after all. It reflects badly upon my own standing as King and guardian of this pilgrimage if you end up between the teeth of some demon. Mortals like you and the Monk should know this by now.”
“Sandy knew where I was.”
“And look at the good that did you.”
There was no popping Sun Wukongs bubble of pride- he had already wrapped this story up as a great rescue of some kind. He didn’t grin about it, but Sophie could see he was indifferent to the chaos he had caused her. She wished she could throw him sometimes. Maybe he would think twice about scaring her if she could dunk him in a river.
“…stupid monkey.”
Wukong turned at that, grinning now with all teeth. The game was afoot now in full force and he felt it.
“What we’re you saying as I pulled you up? Something like “A friend whos the best monkey in the world?’”
“If he really was the best he wouldn’t have half drowned me.” Sophie pointed out, sniffing. They were nearing the fire, and the smell of Sandy’s stew was enough to make her stomach give an audible gurgle.
“I didn’t.” Wukong corrected, helping her over a bit of prickly thorn bushes without being promoted. Maybe he did feel a smidge guilty then. He usually had to be begged to assist - or ordered by Trip. “ You slipped. It’s not my fault you can’t hear or see, stupid women.”
“Keep telling yourself that Wukong. Maybe you’ll make it true.”
As Sophie entered the camp she was bombarded from all sides by the concern of her fellow pilgrims. Sandy rose from the fire- a bowl of stew already being shoved in her hands. Pigsy threatened and yelled at Wukong enough that both of them started to get into a spat. Tripitaka had to stand, to command them to stop before it escalated from mere name calling to physical fighting. Trip then held out Sophie’s bag and she gratefully took it and dipped behind a bit of greenery several paces beyond to change out of her drenched pants and into the comfy pajama shorts and a comfy hoodie. When she came back Pigsy was still growling out threats while a disinterested Wukong cleaned his nails. He looked up briefly at her then away.
“When we reach the next village we will grab you a spare.” Tripitaka spoke around a bowl of noodles. He had opted just for noodles tonight, leaving the meat to the rest of the group. His smile was kind and apologetic. “Sophie you will probably have to wait outside the village till we can get you a replacement.”
She nodded. She could risk going into the village with her regular attire on but … being chastised and poked at by the villagers was not a pleasant experience. Once was enough for her.
“When you guys go into the village could you ask for some healing balm- or maybe a big hat?” Sophie looked to Sandy. “The sun is really starting to burn my skin and I only have so much left of my other world stuff.” Trying to describe the items in her bag at times left different reactions from the group- or more questions. Sophie didn’t want to answer those questions at the moment, hungry and cold.
Sandy nodded, passing a bowl to Wukong on her right. “I will ask for you, Sophie.”
As the group dug into their suppers and then settled for the night, Sophie was glad the fire was banked high. The chill was being chased from her bones and, even if the ground wasn’t comfortable, she looked on the bright side. She hadn’t been eaten. As Wukong took the first watch and Pigsy already was snoring, Sophie closed her eyes—
And woke to the stars still shining in her face as something bumped beside her head. She startled up, blinking out the sleep that clung.
“Hello-?”
“Shhh.” Wukong was crouched beside her, his tail being the culprit of what woke her up. His face looked tired with sleep, the scowl deeper and more furious. He shoved something into Sophie’s lap. She looked down. They were new clothes- a robbed top and pants.
“If you tell the Monk I stole it, I will give you a thorough washing in the river.” Wukong hissed, pulling at Sophie’s bag and rummaging through the contents. Well there he goes again, just digging through my stuff. It didn’t bother her anymore since Wukong rarely kept any of the items of hers he pocketed. He pulled out the coin string, taking some of the bronze rings. “I’m taking some of these so it looks like I bought them. Got it ?”
“So you are feeling guilty for startling me into the water.” Wukong opened his mouth, to argue, to plead his case that no he was not feeling guilty he was Sun Wukong and he did not feel guilt, when Sophie smiled up at him and laid back down.
“It’s ok. Your secret is safe with me-“ she grogely replied, laying back down and curling over the clothes. Sophie patted the ground beside her. “Your watch is over right?”
“Yes.” His head was cocked to the side, like a dog confused.
“Good. Get some sleep.” Sophie closed her eyes. She didn’t hear him move off but she knew he had settled just a bit away from her.
“And Wukong?”
A grunt from behind her- already settling into his spot, back to her.
“Thanks. I forgive you for almost drowning me.”
“I didn’t drown you.”
“I’ll take that as ‘your welcome’.”
185 notes · View notes
thebottomfromhell · 9 months
Note
Hi! Sorry to bother you! But may I request a Dom!male reader like househusband x uppermoons head canons? Like the reader knows there a demon but literally doesn’t care and still loves them and the reader is basically the sole definition of “your doing great sweetie” (and the reader basically just supports them in everything and is like basically there 1# supporter)
(You can choose the uppermoons for the headcanons! I don’t mind!)
have a nice day! ♥︎
(Also if you have already done a similar idea you can just ignore this! I’m a little new to your blog and I really like your writing!)
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I liked this ask a lot, also the image it's very cute, it made me smile, you might also like the traditional courting Headcanons 1 & 2 (but by this time you probably saw them already 😅) Also I didn't really know if as "dom" you meant as in dynamic or in sexual content, so I have a sexual connotation or two.
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Househusband Human Supportive Dom Reader x Uppermoons. (Nakime, Douma and Gyutaro are not in this one, since their living conditions make it hard to step in as a house spouse. Also the clones come as a package in this one).
Warnings: Polyamory (Hantengu Clones), Slight sexual content (some characters and reader make out in a more sexual tone, but no explicit sex, so it's mostly implied), Cannibalism (mostly reading sharing his blood),
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Gyokko:
"Okaeri, Gyokko. How was it today?" Gyokko is very organized with his time, he always comes back around the same hour and expects you to be awake to welcome him. "Tadaima." He just says, looking a bit tired. Probably some slayers did comments about his art, that pisses him off a lot. "I guess by that, it wasn't your best night. Is there is something this husband can do for you?" You tease as you get closer to him and hold gently the upper hands of his head, using your thumbs to carress circles in them. He relaxes and sighs after that.
"How about a cup of blood? That might cheer you up." You say as you guide him to the kitchen where you have a first aid kit, which you use a needle to take out your blood. "No, that is an artery. You will bleed out, let me do it myself." It's less messy this way, specially with Gyokko's help (he knows the circulatory system better than you), but it seems this time he doesn't have the patient to that. "Did you kill them or just put them in a pot?" You start a conversation as you put the red liquid in his favorite cup. "It was horrible, this was a Hashira and those sidekicks they have, they were so tasteless, didn't know how to appreciate arts. And the sidekick was infuriating, a damn child!" And you spend an hour with him drinking with one mouth as he complains with the other.
By the time he finishes there is are two hours left for sunrise, so you stand up and kiss the talking mouth "Meet me at bed, I will lock down the house." You close the window, three layers of curtains and move some objects for the weight to secure them more. "Do as I say, and I will treat you good." He compliains of you being "bossy" as you leave the room, but you do find him under the sheets once you step in your room. It doesn't have any windows, so it's already safe. You close the door and then go to sit in front of Gyokko. "You deserve to rest your mind once in a while. You are very hardworking, so let me..."
"Enough talking, darling. I already told you the night I had. Now I want my husband to spoil me. Now." You roll your eyes, and he calls you bossy? Still, you get under the sheets and kiss one of the mouths and you put your thumb in the other, tasting your own blood in the other's tongue as in joins yours. You also feel the teeth and tongue biting and salivating the thumb, you make sure the liquids don't fall into his lower eye. Still under the sheets you get on top of Gyokko, who's arousal is visible. "Then I better spoil you good."
It's already noon when you finish, you are very tired, but Gyokko just rest his head against your naked stomach because he is uncomfortable like that. You are always surprised by the unlimited demon stamina, you massage his scalp with your fingers to help him relax further. "There are people who just don't understand art, Gyokko. But you and I both know you are a great artist. Don't let things like this get you so worked up." He only groans a bit against your skin to speak after a minute of silence, you almost fell asleep before you heard his voice. "Well, I got my husband to support me and make me feel better, don't I?"
You chuckle a bit. He does.
Hantengu:
"T-t-t-tad-d-daim-a..." there, he said it (whispering), as he stepped in, closin the door behind him as quietly as possible. "Okaeri." Hantengu shrieks when you come next to him, when did you get this close? He thought you would still be asleep. "What are you doing up at this hour?" He asks quietly, still covering himself with his arms as he took a protective stance of the fright. He knows you won't hurt him, but it's a reflex. "I couldn't sleep, so I decided ro eat something. I just finished cleaning the kitchen after. How was your night?" He slowly puts his arms down as he sighs.
How long did you stay in a barely understadable ramble of how aggressive and scary Hashira are, how his master is an exploiter, how everyday and night are both nightmares alongside a self-pity monologue? Two hours, at least, but you only show him you are listening, not interrupting him once. Once he stops talking to tremble hard as he hugs himself you walk around him slowly, making sure he can see where you are and what are you doing with your hands as you put them on his shoulder. "Calm down, darling. It's ok. You are home right now, safe with your husband who wants to make you feel better."
He starts to relax as you squeeze and massage the stress away, then going to his back, feeling it full of knots. You sigh, you also did this yesterday and it's like this again? Well, it's not like it's Hantengu's fault. He didn't ask to be conditioned by the emotion of distress, it's already good enough he can find some comfort in you. "Thank you for doing this for me... How was your day? What did you eat just now." You appreciate his interest, even if part of it is only to be able to distract himself from the bad feelings as he listens to you. You do describe your day, talking mostly about when you went outside to buy some things the house needed. "It must be nice to not burn under the sun... even my clones can step on the sun."
"Well, other demons can't go under the sun neither. Have you eaten already? I can give you some of my blood." He shakes his head to reject the proposition "I don't have the stomach to eat today... thk u fr offr.... [thank you for offering]." You don't get to hear that last part, but you just finish the back to get in front of him. "Let's go to bed, I will give you a leg massage, check that the sun won't get through the windows and take a nap with you. That way you should feel better." Demons don't need to sleep, you already know that, but you are tired and asleep Hantengu feels a lot better than while awake, so he agrees.
Once you finish all those things you cuddle with his face against your chest, having him crying over everything and nothing specific as he hugs you tight. "Thank you... I feel better here." He answers honestly as you pat his back to valm him down as you feel the tears move through your abdomen. "It's ok dear, your husband is here for you. Just try to sleep." He does, you feel he stops breathing, but at this point it doesn't bother you, his nature is different to yours. He is still very dear to you, and so you help him as you can.
It can be tiring, but it's worth it.
Hantengu Clones:
"TADAIMA!" Scream Urogi and Karaku as they open the door, waking you up instantly as Sekido was lecturing them. You put another outer robe as you go towards the entrance to find your four idiots, Aizetsu is the first to notice you and go to see you before the others. "Y/N, Tadaima. We have had a rough night... can you please calm them down before going back to bed? I think you are the only one who can." He gives you big sad eyes before blinking fast a few times, making sure to look as cute as he can, manipulative little-. You can only nod before he leaves to the main room where you were sleeping "Okeari, by the way." You say before he disappears in the hallway.. Once he does that the next one to jump over you is Urogi, in his case, literally.
"Y/N! Hubby! We missed you so much!" He rubs his face against your as he has his arms and legs wraped up around you. "Sekido got beheaded like 7 times! It was so funny! Karaku actually had to save his a-" "SHUT THE FUCK UP, UROGI!" Karaku only laughs in the background. "He still got to thank me, ya know? I was so heroic back there, bet that if you saw me killing that slayer you would have gotten a bo-" "Karaku...." Yeah, that's the sign. If you don't step in Sekido will leave them outside all day. "Okaeri you all. I also missed you." You kiss Urogi's horn, wish makes him giggle. "I will set the house for sunrise, so if you want to help-" Joy and Pleasure leave to the main room in order to avoid work, leaving you with Sekido. "Those little shits..." he is very angry.
"Are you ok?" He doesn't answer, so you grab his hand gently and take it to your mouth to kiss it's back, making him blush but relax the frown. "I'm sure you all did great, at least did you all eat." He nods before you let him go, that means you don't need to offer blood (thank the one above and the one below, because you would die if the four were to drink blood from you), you both secure the house and find out that Aizetsu already secured the main room as Urogi and Karaku joined togeter several pillows, futons and sheets. "The beddings are ready! But if you want to have some fun before that, I am willing to give you some "cake" in the bathroom~" Karaku winks (which makes Sekido growl) at you, meking you (and Aizetsu) roll your eyes. "Nah, I'm good. I just want to cuddle and comfort my husbands if that is ok." Urogi laughs at the rejection as Karaku shrugs "Your loss."
Aizetsu goes to take both yours and Sekido's hand. "Can we please get along today. The sun will be up in some minutes, I can sense it... and it makes me sad that we would be trapped here while fighting." The Sorrow clone probably did already the eye trick to the other two and, since you already calmed down Sekido, it works on him to. "Thank you... " In the end you end up all un a fort under the sheets as they tell you the whole story. You are brushing Urogi's hair with your fingers as he lies on his stomach by your side, Sekido gives you his back as he uses your other arm as pillow, Karaku has your head in his lap to massage your scalp and Aizetsu rests his head in your stomach. It's not the most comfortable position to be, but you are happy to be like this (besides, you still could fall asleep how you are.)
You know they are also having a good time, since Sekido nuzzles against your limb, so you know he is there and comfortable. Aizetsu has his eyes close, so he could be asleep, once Urogi gets bore of you playing with his hair he starts nibbling softly your arm as if he was a cat (trying his best to not hurt you) and Karaku lies in his back with you still in his back. "Hey, Y/N... thank you for taking care of up. We like to be with you a lot." Karaku starts. "Yeah, we love you so much! You are the best husband ever!" "... you are good. Thank you for being there." "That tone didn't really sound sincere, Sekido." "Shut up, Aizetsu!" You can only chuckle at that. What can you say, you also enjoy taking care of them, even if as demons they don't need it.
"I love you all, too."
Akaza:
Akaza looks tired, emotionally exhausted, as he steps inside the house, he was just scolded for not killing the Hanafuba earing brat, the weakling, that little shi- "Okaeri, you came back early. Did something happen?" You ask him, you were just going back to sleep (you woke up to eat something) since Akaza usually comes back just some minutes before sunrise, looking for Muzan's imaginary flower he comes back to complain about. "Y/N... Tadaima... sorry, I... did you do the dishes?"
You laugh as he looks concerned, he didn't meam to change the topic, but "I told you I would do them..." he pouts, Akaza likes to be helpful around the house, so most of the time it's you both competing to do the chores. "Go to sleep, I will do the rest." He wants to clean, since the house is already set for sunrise. "You can fix the house for yourself, but I already did everything else after you left." You say proudly as you watch him grind his teeth. "I will cook you breakfast later then, and the house must be cleaned every day, so tomorrow I do the chores." He really likes to take care of you and gets easily frustrated when he can't. It often backfires because you also like to take care of him.
You cup his face in your hands to make him look at you in the eyes, smiling softly as he melts alightly in hour touch. "You look way too stressed for that, how about you tell me first how was your night?" Turns out his boss lectured him for not killing a child, the one he fought the day he didn't come home for sunrise (that night you were worried to the point of sickness, it was the first time since you married that Akaza didn't spend the day in your house) and he is very angry. "I have always done everything he told me! I swear that brat, weakling, will die at my hands. Damn weaklings taking advantage of...." his breathing become unsteady at that, so you pet his face. "I know you will, you are way too stubborn to not manage to kill someone you want dead. I'm sure even that Douma will fall under your hard work sooner or later." You don't really know about Douma, but fantazising of his death makes Akaza feel better.
"How about you go to bed with me? I am a bit tired and I would like to lie down somewhere." He nods as you take his hand and guide him to the main room. Once in the bed you push him so he can lie on his back as you get over him in the space between his legs. "Didn't you say you wanted to lie down?" You smile as you move your robes to expose one shoulder "Well, I will need it depending on the amswer. When was the last time you ate something?" By the look of his face you can se it has been a while, so you pull him from the back of his neck to your naked skin. "Take a bite, love. And I will also take a piece of you. Deal?" The second he bites theough your skin, you know you are on.
You didn't last that long, mostly because of the wound in your shoulder. You curse you only have 4 liters of blood and half gone already show it's effects, unlike Akaza, who is tending the bite. "If it makes you feel better, it's always hot when you bite me." You say something you know is stupid to make him laugh, he hates hurting you, even when you ask him to. "Well, I do think you are a snack, dear husband." You also laugh, gods that was awful.
You love, trust and support him, and Akaza better damn well know it.
Kokushibou:
Kokushibou just breathes in before closing the door behind him, fully knowing you are not only awake, but in the end of the hallway. "Tadaima." He answers without even looking at you, to be honest he was hoping you would still be asleep. He does love you but... he is not the best with feelings, and you are just so- "Okaeri, Kokushibou. How have you been?" good to him, and he just can't aswer the same way. It makes him feel inadequate. He hates that, so he tends to leave for long periods of time. "It's been six moons since the last time I saw you, anything interesting?"
And yet, you never anger, you never are anything but understanding, and that is just so confusing. There was other man that was like that with him, no matter how evasive or cold Michikatsu Kokushibou could get, he would still welcome him warmly, forever patient and stable, like the sun that burns all demons. You remind him a lot, and the worst part is that it attracts Kokushibou, the familiarity and the way you treat him. "Hey, are you ok?" You say as you notice he lost himself on his thoughts, once he gets out of his trance he looks at you. He only wanted to see you, that is why he came back, he hoped you wouldn't be awake when he did.
"Do you want a drink?" Blood, you are offering your blood and he can't find himself to day no. No when this is the only way he can drink it from a cup without calling it what it actually is, that way he can pretend he is still a samurai drinking tea in his free time, that he didn't transform into something that is not human. "Please. That would be nice." He sits in a mat as you serve him the red liquid, and besides thanking you as you hand the cup to him, Kokushibou doesn't say anything. There is a big chance he will leave soon, so you tell him everything that happened while he was missing. "And then I had to tell the ladies I was to old for marry his daughter, but I think she didn't believe me. Still, I'm a faithful husband to the second most powerful demon is not an explenation that will be well received."
Thankfully, between the blood and your story telling, he decides to stay for the day, so you prepare the house so the sunlight won't be able to come inside. You must hurry since you realized he would be staying when there was half an hojr for the sun to come up and he didn't move at all. You started with the room you are with Kokushibou, then the whole house, there was already sun when you finished the last rooms, but Kokushibou didn't burn and you consider that enough. "Kokushibou, the house is ready. You can move arpund if you want." He does, only to get to find yourself in hour room as you followed him. "You look tired. Sleep for a while I will stay here." He says as he sits in front of your bed.
The thing is, you are tired, you were at least half of the night awake and the missing blood is not doing you any good. But you don't want to sleep, you want to spend time with Kokushibou before he leaves. "Only if you promise we can properly say goodbye to each other bedore you go." He agrees, so you get ready for bed, knowing he likes to watch you sleep for some reason. "Kokushibou, remember that if you want to talk about anything, I will listen." ..... "Thank you." He just says that before becoming dead silent. It's very hard to be there dor Kokushibou, since he does and doesn't want you around at the same time.
Still, you try. That is enough.
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