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laundrybiscuits · 1 year

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(part 3 of the not-hallmark fic, now tentatively titled grace coming out of the void)

It’s not too long before Robin tumbles through the door in a whirlwind of apologies.

“Don’t worry about it,” says Steve, wrapping her up in a bear hug. “Eddie kept me company.”

It’s true, actually. There’d been a few minutes of awkward silence, before Eddie’d visibly steeled himself and started making small talk with the grim determination of a general heading into battle. It would’ve been funny if it hadn’t made Steve feel like dirt just a little bit.

He’s trying, Steve had told himself firmly. Yeah, it sucked that Eddie clearly still had some kind of problem with him, but if he was willing to try this hard to get over it…well, the least Steve could do was try, too.

So they’d filled each other in on all the stupid unimportant details of their lives, the stuff that was easy to talk about, and gradually the talking got easier. They’d never been strangers, not really, but somehow over the years it had gotten so Steve could forget that Eddie was fun to be around. There hadn’t always been a weird sour feeling in Steve’s stomach that had to be ignored; there was Eddie’s hands looping in big descriptive shapes as he described some new student who has absolutely no idea why she’s in my class, Steve, I swear someone’s blackmailing the kid to be there, she just shows up and like, grimly struggles through whatever I give her. Won’t even tell me what she wants to play, and I’ve tried everything. I arranged Cyndi fuckin’ Lauper for this kid, Steve!

Eddie’s face, relaxed and bright-eyed, never happier than when he’s telling a story. The way Eddie cares so much about every little thing. Just being around him feels like sitting at a fireplace, soaking in the warmth and light. And when Steve manages to make him laugh, it feels like winning the damn lottery.

So they’ve managed to get on pretty well in Robin’s absence. Steve’s hoping it doesn’t take them another few years before they can have a real conversation again, like some kind of timer that needs to reset.

“Good,” says Robin. “Because you two are like my favorite people, and it would really suck if you couldn’t get along.”

“Favorite people?” Eddie drawls, raising an eyebrow. “Can’t wait to tell Ronnie that.”

“Oh my god, don’t you dare!” Robin shoves at his shoulder until he moves over so she can squeeze onto the couch with them.

“Am I finally going to get to meet the famous Veronica?” asks Steve. Robin’s been going on about her for a while, but he knows the relationship hasn’t been official for that long. So it’s fine, it’s normal that he hasn’t met his best friend’s girlfriend yet, and Eddie has.

“Yeah, of course,” says Robin. “She’ll be here in like an hour to set up for the party.”

Of course there’s a party. From what Steve hears, Robin and Eddie seem to be constantly throwing parties and having people over, a rotating cast of quirky personalities with artistic inclinations and improbable backstories.

This one’s not even really a party, Robin assures him; it’s just the new girlfriend plus a couple local friends. Or, one local friend and one Hawkinsite who’s in town for the holidays.

“You remember Jeff, right?” says Robin.

“Oh sure, Jeff, yeah,” says Steve. “And the other one’s…Hannah?”

“Helen, she’s an artist who’s been working with Eddie on an installation. She’s great, you’ll love Helen.”

———

Steve does not love Helen.

“Wait, it’s true?” Helen cuts in. “People actually thought Ed was a cult leader? Our Ed?”

Steve breathes through the flicker of annoyance. Eddie doesn’t belong to Hawkins anymore.

“Yeah,” he says. “It’s, you know, a small town. Folks were just scared, is all.”

“Aww,” she coos. “It’s just so tough to imagine anyone being scared of this guy.” She ruffles Eddie’s hair and Eddie slaps her away, laughing.

“Yeah, it was a whole torches-and-pitchforks thing,” Eddie says. “I met this guy when I was on the run from some villagers who wanted to burn me at the stake. Me! Can you imagine?”

Steve huffs, amused. “Think I remember something about that meeting. Something like…you threatening me with a broken bottle at my neck? Ring any bells for you, Ed?”

“Wait…that’s not how you got those scars, is it?” Helen’s looking a little more hesitant, like she finally realizes there’s something here she can’t ever understand. Steve’s viciously pleased about it, then tries not to be. He doesn’t like strangers talking about all that shit like they can relate or something.

All he says is: “Nah. That was a little later. Eddie’s the reason I lived long enough to let this—” He rubs awkwardly at his neck, fingers skidding and pulling at the ugly ridges. “—scar at all.”

“Don’t listen to Harrington, he never wants to admit he’s a fuckin’ action hero. I barely did anything except freak out and almost get murdered. He saved my life for real, like, at least three or four times—think at this point he just owns my entire ass.”

Steve is tempted to ask why Eddie’s been avoiding him for the last six or seven years, if that’s the case, but he knows that’s not totally fair. Steve’s been doing a lot of avoiding too.

“Shoot,” says Helen. She’s still got an arm tucked into Eddie’s. “We’re all very grateful, Steve.”

Instead of saying I didn’t do it for you, Steve says, “Just, uh, glad I was there. I’m…gonna get some more wine.”

Robin catches him in the narrow hall leading to the kitchen. It’s a nice apartment, yeah, but Steve thinks the layout’s weird as hell compared to the right angles and neatly aligned walls of his place back in Hawkins.

“Everything okay, dingus?” she asks. The way the hall bends, they’re sheltered from the living room. It’s a soap bubble of privacy, fragile but whole.

“How do you handle people asking about—stuff?” Steve blurts out.

“It’s actually been easier here,” says Robin thoughtfully. “Because in Hawkins, people always think they know a lot more than they do. Remember how Vickie and I used to get into those big fights?”

Steve nods. He hadn’t really understood what was going on at the time, and Robin hadn’t been great at explaining. She’d talk up a storm, get all worked up, and at the end of it, all he’d get was that she was mad and Vickie didn’t understand why.

“Well, later on I realized that they’d always kick off when Vickie said something like, I know what you mean, or I was there too. Because she didn’t, and she wasn’t. With Ronnie, it’s like…she doesn’t get it, but she knows she doesn’t get it. It’s easier with her, I guess. How did you handle it with Laura?”

Steve shakes his head. “I didn’t, I guess. But she wasn’t, y’know. The One.”

“Still holding out for that fairy tale romance, huh?” Robin smiles. She’s just teasing him; she doesn’t mean anything by it.

“I’m really not,” says Steve. “Listen, I’m gonna—” He holds up his empty glass and escapes to the kitchen.

Jeff’s there, pouring some wine into his own glass, and fills up Steve’s without being asked.

Steve nods at him in thanks. It feels a little rude to just turn around and leave immediately, so he leans against the counter and takes a drink.

“So, uh,” says Steve. “How’ve…you been? Since, uh, Hawkins.”

Jeff gives him a wry smile. He definitely knows that Steve doesn’t remember him at all. “Not bad,” he says, drumming his fingertips on the counter. “I’m just in town visiting family for the week; I’m actually at Michigan right now, studying to be a doctor. I want to specialize in geriatrics—like, taking care of old people? But right now I’m in the part where they shuttle you around to different specialties to get a taste for everything.” He makes a face. “Surgery definitely ain’t my thing.”

“Shit. A doctor, huh?” Steve shakes his head, surprised for no real reason. It’s not like he hadn’t known that people from Hawkins could be smart; hell, he’d dated Nancy Wheeler. But this seemed like the kind of smart that just didn’t fit into his memory of Hawkins High. Other than Nancy, who—last he’d heard—was still sharing an apartment with two other girls and fighting her way up the ladder of some paper in Boston, nobody he’s kept tabs on has really gotten successful in a big-city way. Like, the kind of successful that could be on a TV show.

“Yeah, I was always into science. Used to keep caterpillars in my room, see if I could get ‘em to turn into butterflies. Drove my mama crazy, ‘cause she hated having critters in the house. But I just thought it was so wild how the caterpillars could have a whole life crawling around on the ground, and then their insides just rearrange, and suddenly they can fly. I was such a dramatic little shit, I was so damn sure I’d grow wings too.” Jeff laughs. It’s surprisingly nasal for such a broad-shouldered guy, and Steve decides he likes how unselfconscious Jeff is about it.

Steve reaches out to clink their glasses together. “Hey, you did, didn’t you? Got outta Hawkins, got to chase your fancy doctor dreams.”

“Guess I did.” Jeff nods and takes a slow sip of his wine. “Look…tell me to fuck off if this is too much, huh? But I gotta ask. Why’d you stick around? Why not get outta Hawkins too? Not that we knew each other or anything, but…even from the Hellfire table, it didn’t seem like you were having the greatest time, either. At least, not by the end.”

Hellfire, right, that’s how Jeff knows Eddie. A vague, blurry memory of seeing them both in those dorky shirts is surfacing.

“It’s not too much,” says Steve. “I don’t mind you asking. Don’t know that I’ve got an answer, though. I just didn’t have a plan like you guys, I guess.”

“Buddy.” Jeff laughs in that nasal way again and claps Steve on the shoulder. “None of us had a plan. I guess I did, a little more than the rest of them, but—I thought I wanted to be an ER doc, you know? Which, damn. Definitely not my scene, as it turns out. You don’t leave your hometown because you already know what you want out of life, even if you think that’s what you’re doing.”

“Getting philosophical in the kitchen?” Eddie appears in the doorway, empty glass dangling from his fingertips. “Congrats on being a cliche, guys.” He’s smiling, and it looks real. Happiness looks good on him.

“What’re you drinking?” says Steve. “Let me top you up.”

#I may need to rewatch the relevant bits of s3 before I write the next part of purify our misfit ways #so I'm not sure what's coming next but I had most of this written already #in very standard Me fashion—I like this snippet much less than the previous two but I just need to post the draft so I can stop fussing #I never know what to do with the hellfire lads so I'm just creating a characterization from scratch here #fic: grace coming out of the void

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dykedragons · 11 months

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man. should rlly start bringing my sketchbook to work

#ramblies #its raining and we work outdoors so ive just been sitting here on my phone for an hour #I JUST WANNA CREATE STUFF #idk WHAT happened (i do know. college happened) but ever since working full time i just itch to create shit all day. ive been having my #best ideas. i get home from a 9 hour day make myself dinner and inmediately draw most days #like its just. an itch. that needs to be scratched. its whatever the opposite of that burnout i used to have wss #like i JUST WANT TO CREATE FREELY. i just want to LEARN. but i have less time now!#im so excited to do the cool shit i have planned for portfolio and open up my shop and revsmp my commissiok website #jm gonna learn so much and get so good and make the BEST fuckjng portfolio snd make so much money #my girlboss era. to be fucking honest.#ive been insanely busy ive barely touched video games in a couple months. im always jsut… doing shit and being alive #for the first time ever! im so tired! but like. its good #like im saving money and im loving creating things and im making such good memories with my friends #we can do someyhing so simple like. go to the park. and its so nice i make core memories bc we just do stupid shit. its magical. its magica #life is so fucking tiring and overwhelming but for the first time i rlly feel like im living and i havent even gotten my own place yet or #anything like that. like ooggh this is the connection i was missing out on #having mixed feelings abt my ‘stay inside and be a gamer’ era bc no doubt that time has fuelled my drive to work like an ox now (i have #something to prove- i light a fire under my own ass) but also i couldve been having these experiences sooner #but not with the same people im with now. so thats okay #i digress. anyways i wanna draw LMFAO #IM GONNA MAKE MONSTER HUNTER STICKERS its gonna be so rad

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mangowithanh · 2 years

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i have a very deep respect (and jealousy) for anyone who knows how music works. i have watched videos, read books, and even taken in-person classes, but glancing upon a partiture yields the same results in my brain as looking at biblically accurate angel. what the Fuck is a scale. how do you know which note(s) are which. like i genuinely love music and want to understand it and maybe even create it but after watching all the beginner's introductory courses i could find for free on the internet and still not understanding a single thing i'm starting to think it just may not be for me :(

#and yeah i know that some producers create music without knowing much (if any) theory #but HOW #if anyone knows any other resources or any tips please tell me about them #bc i can't believe i taught myself how to code in python/use blender/repair basic electric and plumbing stuff/the basics on a few languages #but i can't seem to be able to learn how to make a melody from scratch much less tune a voice synth to go with it #and lord i have Tried #is this just a me problem?#vent? sorta

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hyomaslut · 10 months

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──★ ˙🌟 ̟ !! gold star redemption program. 18+!

☆⌒(ゝ。∂).ᐟ ᴛᴇᴀᴍ ʙʟᴜᴇ ʟᴏᴄᴋ's ғᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴍᴀɴᴀɢᴇʀ

✿ ─ synopsis: you are the new manager for team blue lock and you have a great idea to make the players get along better. after all, positive reinforcement worked really well on dogs, why not men? ✿ ─ characters: isagi yoichi, bachira meguru, shidou ryusei, itoshi rin, chigiri hyoma + kunigami rensuke referenced ✿ ─ cw: smut, fem!reader, she/her pronouns used, aged-up!characters(18+), pet names, kissing, penetrative sex, oral receiving/giving, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, hair pulling, overstimulation, rough sex, deepthroating/face-fucking, non-exclusive relationships, lots of jealousy, pda, use of foul language, suggestive themes, shidou is an asshole, rin threatens murder, somewhat proofread ✿ ─ notes: okay so every is going to ignore the logistics and mental gymnastics done to put all these guys on the same team and have any of this go on, right? cool. this work was requested by @anastasiablossomlove pls enjoy!

managing team blue lock was no task for a person of average conviction. anyone with less of a spine would be easily trampled and consumed by the members, all with big personalities and even bigger egos. you took to the role with exceptional organizational skills and a positive attitude that didn’t falter, even under the cold glares of the less compliant men of the team (cough cough itoshi rin cough cough barou shouei). before the end of your first week you had drafted up detailed and individualized meal plans, unique to each of them. by the second you had worked with the coach to create special training regimes that works towards their fitness goals while providing challenge and variety. right under their noses you dug your pretty fingers into every part of team blue lock, finding every issue and soothing every conflict, turning a group of somewhat wild animals into a well functioning machine with you at its core.

and not a detail slipped your eye. you could always tell when kunigami had pushed himself too hard in the gym by the stiffness in his shoulders. honestly you doubt you would’ve been able to convince him to let you help him if he wasn’t just as sore as you predicted. but the minute your palms were pressing into his back he was groaning in relief, “you’re an angel” grumbled under his breath. he’s a bit less embarrassed the next time around, blushing while asking you to fix him like you did last time.

you quickly took responsibility for doing chigiri’s hair before every practice and game. after seeing it fall out of its style and flap wildly in his face whenever he reached top speed on the field, you decided he needed something a little more reliable to keep it out the way so his eyes could stay on the ball. though when his hair was this soft, who could blame you for taking a bit longer than necessary, brushing through the knots and gently scratching at his scalp. plus, he didn’t seem to mind all that much, always red faced and all smiles, leaning into your touch. the thank you kiss he plants on your cheek lingers long enough to leave a matching blush on your face as a token of his appreciation.

being the backbone of their system earned you respect, acknowledgement, even affection from the overly friendly members of the team (cough cough bachira meguru cough cough shidou ryusei). no one could deny the benefits of having you around, always offering all kinds of helpful advice and showed not a shred of judgment when listening to their problems. and you weren’t exactly ignorant to the fact that your constant support was causing some of your new friends to become especially attached to you. maybe to someone else it would be a bigger concern, but in your eyes, this was only another opportunity to do more for your team.

that’s why you implemented the gold star redemption program to help motivate them. it was quite simple to follow, you had a chart with all of their names along with cute, slightly wonky doodles of them, and a list of ways to earn gold stars. from goals and assists to being on good behavior, whatever way they earn their stars, team members can then cash them in for certain prizes from you. the list had looked something like this…

2 ☆ = snack or drink of your choice 4 ☆ = a home cooked meal 5 ☆ = a kiss <3 7 ☆ = a massage <33 10 ☆ = private training session <333

the objective was to give incentives towards cooperation. not to mention, it’s always good to strengthen bonds with your team members. it seems, however, that you underestimated how much of your time this new system would take up. or maybe you just overestimated how easy it would be to keep up with the greedy desires of so many egoists at once.

ever since your arrival, anyone with eyes could see that isagi yoichi carried a torch for you. you let him talk your ear off for hours about tactics and players, never tired of his company or too busy for his rambles. it gets his heart thumping obnoxiously loud in his chest. so yoichi makes it his objective to dote on you as much as possible to try to make up for all the time you spend fussing over everybody else. always staying after practice to help you or walking you home. so when you start handing out stars for that kind of stuff, isagi is already making a steady income. he considers himself a gentleman, so at first he spends his stars on meals. and he’s more than happy to eat your cooking, stirring up all kinds of wifey fantasies in his head and enjoying his lunches with you. but at night, when he’s lying in bed, the big ticket item at the bottom of the prize board haunts him. and when he can’t take it anymore, he slips into your tiny little office that you share with the coach, a self-satisfied smile on his face when he lets you know that he just finished the stat sheets you asked him to fill out, earning him his tenth gold star. enough for one private training session.

in all the times you thought about sex with isagi, you’re not sure you ever pictured it to be like this. bent over your own desk, tennis skirt bunched up around your waist, your star player too eager to sink into your pussy to even push down your underwear. they stayed tugged to the side, thoroughly soaked from the way his hips meet yours in sloppy desperate thrusts. “i knew i needed to fuck you when i saw this skirt,” he confesses, eyes fixed to the point where you connect, mesmerized by the way his cock disappears inside you, “you’ve been tempting me all day, so be a good girl and take my cock, okay?” before you can respond he hooks a finger into the elastic of your panties to let it snap back against your skin, drawing a small yelp from you. he changs the angle to fuck you harder, deeper. you wonder if this could be the same sweet yoichi that carries your things and bashfully tells you your outfit looks good.

apparently that yoichi doesn’t exist once he’s balls deep inside you, all that’s left is the side of him you’ve only caught glimpses of when he’s dominating his opponents on the field. and if you thought that it was a chance encounter, you’re sorely mistaken as week after week isagi makes sure he earns his ten stars and you get to know just how mean he can be. his grip is always tight around your hair, whether it’s pulling and steering you into the position he wants or guiding your head down to take more of his dick. god forbid he asks you nicely for something like he always does when you’re not ‘training’. one time you even had the gall to suggest the idea to him and lived to regret it as now if you want anything from him, isagi is only accepting the most convincing of your begs. “c'mon princess, mind your manners, if you wanna cum then you’re gonna have to ask really nicely.” and no teary eyed puppy dog look will get you what you want, even when he makes getting your words out so difficult. truthfully, he never intends to be so hard on you, but having you crying and begging for his cock is the only way to soothe the devil on his shoulder that tries to tell him to take you for himself. in the aftermath, you start to recognize your yoichi again, sheepish in his apologies for how rough he was with you, kissing away the tears that run down your face. he’s lucky you’re too fucked out to charge him for them.

there’s not a world where you offer bachira meguru sexual favors in exchange for playing soccer and he says no. he was already gonna do that anyway, and now not only does he get to make even more of a game out of it, but his reward for winning is the cute little manager he’s had his eyes on for far too long? consider him sold. bachira knows it would be most fun for him to save up and have sex with you as soon as possible, but all of a sudden he has five and he’s itching for a kiss. one he decides to give you right before practice starts… in front of the whole team. but can you blame him? he’s already been waiting forever to feel those pretty glossed lips on his, you couldn’t really expect him to make it through the next few hours when he’s so close to getting what he wants. and you could maybe understand that, but was it really necessary to go for a full open-mouthed wet almost make out that left you panting when everyone’s eyes were already on you? you suspect not, but bachira doubles down, telling you it was of upmost importance that he got it in, else he wouldn’t be able to focus. he neglects to tell you that he overheard reo in the locker room talking about what he was gonna do now that he had five stars. shidou already made it very clear that he would be first to ten, so bachira had to be crafty in order to secure at least one first from you.

meguru was certainly one of the more needy players, right under nagi that required some form of encouragement every step of the way to get anything done. bachira usually does what you tell him to, but not without whining about deserving a prize for being good. quite frankly, you dread having to ask anything of him, because he is determined to be fully compensated for even the smallest of requests. even a task as easy as grabbing something on a high shelf was met with a cheeky smirk and a request for a kiss. and don’t think he’ll budge either, holding the item hostage if he thinks he can squeeze two out of you. it didn’t make it any easier that bachira didn’t possess a shy bone in his whole body, openly showering you in affection when the others were around, holding your hand and nuzzling his face into your collar. it was enough to make even a professional like you blush. he acted as if he was oblivious to the jealous stares of his friends, but the smug cat-like smirk he sends them and the way he only holds you tighter when you try to shyly brush him off gives him away. it may come as a surprise considering his reputation for being a bit delusional, but bachira tries to root himself in reality for once. he frequently reminds himself of the nature of your relationship and tries his best not let his imagination run wild with anything that would be beyond the boundaries you’ve clearly set. things like picturing himself taking you on dates, coming home to you at night, introducing you to his mom. they were all too dangerous to let his mind settle on them for too long.

and what better distraction than burying his face between your thighs. it’s hard to think of much when he hasn’t bothered to stop lapping at your cunt long enough to take a breath in a couple minutes. suffocating was the least of his concerns when the clench around his fingers lets him know your orgasm is just around the corner. meguru swears that your pathetic little whimpers and the slick dripping down his chin are like a straight hit of dopamine to his brain and he’s at real risk of addiction at this point. lidded amber eyes travel up to watch your expression twist into one of pleasure as you gasp out his name. now that catches his interest. when your vision clears and your brain is functioning again after that intense high, you search for his comfort as if you had done any of the hard work. but all you’re met with is that signature wild look that he gets when he brushing past the enemy team’s defense straight towards his goal. it’s your only warning that he’s far from tired and even farther from sated. “if i can keep going, so can you baby. i know you have more for me. jus’ need t’see you make that face one more time.” you have no room to protest, his tongue already finding your clit and working towards bringing you to the edge once again. by your fourth time cumming, you’re sobbing for a break and debating whether you should charge him four times over or give him a star for each one.

someone who was on board with your system from the second that you explained how it worked, was shidou ryusei. what better way to celebrate another one of his blood pumping, heart stopping performances than racing to the locker room to blow a load in his favorite girl while his teammates debrief with the coach? to him it was simple, you fuck him, you feed him, you take care of him, you spend time with him. shidou is, by all of his definitions, dating you. while some might be turned off by the idea of dating someone who isn’t offering exclusivity, he didn’t see it as much of an obstacle. not when he spent star stickers like a gambler on a slot machine, having you multiple times a week if the economy allowed it. and if he’s short a few, no worries, ryusei is quite the negotiator. it starts one week when he’s only missing a star or two, promising he’ll pay back the difference, you know he’s a good customer. it’s probably not a good idea to give in to him though, as the next time he wants a private training session, he’ll insist they’re only nine stars for him. he has made all kinds of fake coupons from 50% Off! to Buy One Get One Free! to even a homemade punch card in his own terrible handwriting. shidou was the first one to ever get a star taken away when he tried to give you an arby’s gift card in exchange for a blowjob. he didn’t try that tactic again.

the worst is when he tries to haggle in the middle of sex. your legs are thrown over his shoulders and his tip is kissing your cervix when he chooses to whine about not being able to kiss you because he has no stars left. he worked too hard to get good star credit, he can’t go into star debt!! “ and with his lips just hovering over yours, his hot breath fanning across your face, how could you say no? in a moment of weakness, you have unfortunately given an inch to shidou, infamous mile taker, and now it’s hard to get him to pay for any of his kisses, especially while he’s fucking you. you thank god that at the very least no one knows he’s been getting them for free… if only shidou would allow your life to be that easy. even worse than giving him an inch, you expected shidou to keep a secret. and you thought his big mouth was something you liked about him. until he’s using it to brag to everyone that he’s your favorite, practically your boyfriend, all because you let him get away with a smooch here and there. let’s just say you had to give out a lot of free kisses to smooth over the problem his bragging habits created.

honestly ryusei was starting to cause a lot of confusion outside of the team with his antics. what with his always hanging off your arm, giving you as much affection as you’d tolerate, calling you sweet nicknames. the people in your life were actually starting to believe you two were dating. not that shidou does anything to discourage such rumors, only grinning and agreeing every time someone mistakes you as a couple. hell, he was starting to get you confused, saying things during your training sessions that certainly didn’t fit the transactional nature of the act. “holy shit you’re so tight- love this pussy, l-love you so much. say my name. c’mon baby, say you love me and i’ll make you feel so fucking good.” and only because ryusei always makes good on his promises do you allow yourself another moment of weakness.

itoshi rin didn’t have much interest or faith in you upon first introduction. he sized you up as some nobody doing this whole manager thing as a fun extracurricular, so as long as you stayed out of his way he didn’t care what you did. with his luck, he shouldn’t be surprised that you were immediately in his way, extremely often, rambling to him about ideas and strategies that he had no intention on listening to. although even he could admit, he understood why the others were so easily charmed by you. he was wrong about how seriously you took your job. not that it changed anything. at least that’s what rin tells himself, but in reality your relentless efforts and endless dedication to supporting all of them was something that spoke to him, made him a bit soft for you. it didn’t help that you were his type in every sense of the word, your attractiveness doing nothing but make feigning indifference a lot harder for rin. your seemingly endless patience didn’t help either. you always responded in kind to all of rin’s harsh words and cold stares, never let his sour attitude deter your subtle acts of service like getting grass stains out of his uniform and making sure he stays unbothered during his yoga. against his will, he was slowly warming up to you, but you were still caught off guard when rin started cashing in his stars, even if it was just a meal. he had lots of them sitting idle on the chart waiting to be used, so you supposed it was only natural for him to get some free food out of it. but you were even more taken aback when a couple days later he requested a massage from you with insistence that he only asks because he’s been extremely tense as of late. which wasn’t entirely untrue. rin had been very tense. just not from anything soccer related like he’d like you to believe. he was tense from the stress of his budding feelings for you combined with the dread of knowing he probably will never have you all to himself. at least not with this stupid reward system in place.

he despises it. he absolutely hates going about his day knowing there are other guys, his shithead teammates, that are getting your time, attention, and affection for the price of a couple of stupid fucking stickers. he misses the days when shidou’s incessant bragging about how many times he was able to make you cum or bachira’s unnecessary details of what your pussy tastes like didn’t bother him. now his blood boils to hear them talk about you like that. that kind of anger makes it clear to him that being your friend was simply not an option anymore. which is how he settled on getting a massage from you. he would satisfy this overwhelming craving he has for you and go back to normal and be able to focus solely on becoming best in the world again without thoughts of you plaguing his mind. that was his hope going into it, but feeling your warm touch on his bare back, melting away years of untreated knots and neglected aches in his body, he could almost blush at the intimacy he feels. especially when that foreign kindness he loves so much is on display as you reassure him that there’s nothing to be embarrassed about and that you’re proud he finally put his pride aside long enough to let you help him. you’ve got him, hook, line, and sinker now. no use in struggling so hard, he supposes, as some part of him knows he’s doomed to fall sooner or later. perhaps it’s time to surrender. he fought a good fight, but his greed for you was candidly too tough of an opponent.

and to rin, surrender looked like asking you when’s the soonest he could book a private training session. you don’t think you could look any more shocked. rin had a quick turn around from someone you doubted even liked you, to someone reserving as much of your time as his stars could buy. the more often he was with you, the less time you spent giving those lukewarm brats the treatment he wants reserved for him. and he wishes he gave in a lot sooner when he feels the wet heat of your mouth around his cock for the first time. how fast he would’ve folded if he knew how pretty you would look on your knees for him. rin tried to be gentle and let you set the pace, but between hissing out curses and barely biting back moans, that same greed to get more from you has his hand twisting itself in your hair and pushing down on the back of your head. he couldn’t help it. and it was so worth it to watch you choke and sputter around his length but never pull away. he knew you weren’t a quitter. “shit, feels good… don’t stop,” he all but gasps, hips instinctively jumping to reach further down your throat, grip tightening when you try to come up for air. after a long moment of breathing through your nose you relax enough to let him ease himself the rest of the way in. rin sighs in relief when your nose finally presses against his pelvis. the way you look up at him starry-eyed and full of adoration made his chest feel heavy with desire to be the only one you ever look at. it drives him crazy that any guy on the team can see you like this, and that heartache has rin fucking your face to forget it. “fuckkk. don’t look away, eyes on me, g’nna cum in that pretty mouth.”

you couldn’t deny that your new attempt at encouraging the team had its kinks. while overall the amount of arguments that broke out between players lessened to keep on good star-earning behavior, you could tell that it came with its own set of tension creating problems. you also couldn’t deny that being pulled in every direction by men vying for your attention was both very time consuming and extremely gratifying, but you think you manage it well. save for when they were already pumped up with adrenaline from a game, that is when real issues arise. especially when a player from the enemy team thinks it’s a good idea to try and hit on the cute little lady holding the clipboard. fatal mistake.

it starts with your favorite pot stirrer, bachira, calling out from his position, making everyone else on the team aware of the situation. “no shot dude, she don’t want you! focus on losing!” you’re confident you can diffuse whatever is about to go down before you notice rin leaving the ball alone in centerfield to beeline straight towards you. threats are flying from his lips on approach, quick to get in the guy’s face, planting his hands on his shoulders to shove him back. “what the fuck do you think you’re doing? i’ll kill you if you don’t get the fuck away from her.” you think maybe you have a shot of getting rin under control if you just- your eyes widen in horror as a flash moves in from your peripheral. there are no words, just shidou drop kicking this poor stranger at top speed. you cringe as you watch shidou knocks this guy off his feet, cleats first, taking rin down with him. what a way to earn a red card.

this was a fun project and request tysm!!! i just went about it in the interpretation i found most interesting, i really hope it was to your liking!!!

#divider credit to @cafekitsune #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk smut #blue lock #bllk #isagi yoichi x reader #rin itoshi x reader #rin itoshi smut #isagi yoichi smut #bachira x reader #bachira meguru x reader #shidou ryusei x reader #shidou ryuusei smut #shidou smut #chigiri x reader #kunigami x reader #miwa sins

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reachartwork · 8 months

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How exactly do you advance AI ethically? Considering how much of the data sets that these tools use was sourced, wouldnt you have to start from scratch?

a: i don't agree with the assertion that "using someone else's images to train an ai" is inherently unethical - ai art is demonstrably "less copy-paste-y" for lack of a better word than collage, and nobody would argue that collage is illegal or ethically shady. i mean some people might but i don't think they're correct.

b: several people have done this alraedy - see, mitsua diffusion, et al.

c: this whole argument is a red herring. it is not long-term relevant adobe firefly is already built exclusively off images they have legal rights to. the dataset question is irrelevant to ethical ai use, because companies already have huge vaults full of media they can train on and do so effectively.

you can cheer all you want that the artist-job-eating-machine made by adobe or disney is ethically sourced, thank god! but it'll still eat everyone's jobs. that's what you need to be caring about.

the solution here obviously is unionization, fighting for increased labor rights for people who stand to be affected by ai (as the writer's guild demonstrated! they did it exactly right!), and fighting for UBI so that we can eventually decouple the act of creation from the act of survival at a fundamental level (so i can stop getting these sorts of dms).

if you're interested in actually advancing ai as a field and not devils advocating me you can also participate in the FOSS (free-and-open-source) ecosystem so that adobe and disney and openai can't develop a monopoly on black-box proprietary technology, and we can have a future where anyone can create any images they want, on their computer, for free, anywhere, instead of behind a paywall they can't control.

fun fact related to that last bit: remember when getty images sued stable diffusion and everybody cheered? yeah anyway they're releasing their own ai generator now. crazy how literally no large company has your interests in mind.

cheers

#ai art #ai art discourse #ai discourse #discourse #not art

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murdrdocs · 6 days

Text

been having a niche thought of marrying patrick sort of for the benefits and access that comes with it.

no one knows if you and patrick married for the right reasons. there were suspicions at the engagement party, jokes made by the people who knew you best. "i never thought these two would settle down, much less with each other". laughter followed, but everyone knew there was truth in the statement. why in the hell would you decide to marry patrick zweig?

love, is what you tell everyone. according to both of you, you're soulmates. and yeah, in most regards both are true. you and patrick share a love for each other. but that love is shared with others, too. you know each other better than most. but there are two others who know you both just as well. sitting at the end of the table during the engagement party. sitting just close enough to you and patrick during the wedding reception.

the donaldsons are maybe the real reason why you and patrick married. it started as a joke, really. a deluded, elaborate bit created by a drunk art (finally allowed to indulge now that he's retired) and a barely-tipsy patrick (put on a strict regimen by his new coach).

"if you two married, no one would suspect anything between us," was art's reasoning. it barely made sense to you at the time, but not much could make sense when you were struggling to stay awake, being lulled to sleep by the rumble of patrick's chest beside your ear where you lay, and the sweet waft of tashi's perfume carrying in the evening wind.

"think about it," art had continued. "people won't be suspicious over two married couples being close friends. they already probably think i'm cheating with," art slurred your name and you distantly acknowledged how nice the sound was like that. it reminded you of when he was fucked out and he called for you. "and they think tashi's cheating with you, patrick. but if you two were married..."

and art didn't have to say much else. because on a fresh mind the next morning, standing in art and tashi's kitchen, wearing patrick's shirt and waiting for freshly cooked eggs while looking at the sunspots covering art's back and shoulders, you began to understand the logic in art's argument.

married couples were friends. close friends. spend the night at the others house and hosts birthday parties for each other type of friends.

maybe that's why after that day, you and patrick started seeing just each other more. maybe that's why the two of you started dating. maybe that's why patrick took you to a nice place, had art help him set everything up, and popped the question with a ring that tashi assured him you would like. maybe it's why you went through with the wedding, why you bought a house together, why you became mrs. zweig in every sense of the title.

and truthfully, it's a nice life.

it's nice seeing patrick walk downstairs shirtless, his body on display for you to ogle. it's always been like that between you two, yes, but something's different. he has hickies on his shoulders, two from art and then one from you right beside it. there's scratches on his back from you and tashi. he's always wearing his wedding band, and the gold glints nicely against his tan skin. sometimes, you pull the ring up his lithe finger and admire the way he has a tan line now. a permanent reminder of you, even if your presence in a shared space is the same.

he looks cleaner, too, from work of you and tashi. his body a healthy mix between lean and toned. his skin glowing from the inside out. his beard shaped up nicely, a light brown that works well with the burnt orange sprinkle in his eyes. curly hair kept short, more and more greys growing day by day.

it's nice sitting in tashi and art's backyard on patio furniture the four of you had a say in, sharing drinks and old anecdotes before you all went upstairs to entangle your bodies upon the king-sized bed.

even without the legalities, you and patrick would've remained intertwined in tashi and art's lives. but it feels right like this. it feels more secure. like you're committed to each other in the same ways that you're both committed to the dolandsons.

plus, patrick seems to be more bearable as a husband than he was as a friend (the term used loosely of course).

#this image is so vivid in my head #but i cannot articulate it #anyway it makes sense to me #patrick zweig x reader #patricksworld!#artsworld!#tashisworld!#art donaldson x reader #tashi duncan x reader

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purplealmonds · 3 months

Text

Finished this just in time for the new trailer drop! This is my Mononoke illustration featuring assorted merch from the anime, movie, and stage play! How many can you recognize? ⚖️👹

(Yes, please send answers in the replies! Answers, progress pics, artist commentary will be drafted on a separate post when I'm less tired) ⭐️ UPDATE 04/03/24: Abridged artist commentary is now available under the cut! For the full version, please see the Google Doc linked in the replies.

👁️Overview

Late last year, I rather belatedly discovered Mononoke’s 15th anniversary came and went, and with it, an entire swath of new content to manically pore over. This is an illustration of the various Mononoke merchandise, props, and set dressing I discovered.

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🔎Scope

Some fun facts regarding the work that went into this illustration!

Not including research time, this project ran for roughly two months, consuming much of my waking hours outside of my full time and freelance jobs.

While the illustration does not depict all of my findings, it does feature over 120 unique props and set dressings!

The majority of the props and set dressing were modeled to varying degrees of detail in SketchUp.

To model prep, I often put together schematics on Photoshop or Illustrators. Some were created from scratch. Others were created with the liberal usage of the Photoshop transform and perspective warp function.

The master file is 1.5GB. The dimensions are 6400x3600 at 300 dpi, and contains over 2,200 layers.

Near the end of production, the master file became so unwieldy I created a separate working file. This way, I could create assets lag-free then import the layers into the master file.

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Past this point is where most of the commentary cuts were made for the sake of brevity. Again, look in the replies for the Google Doc link containing the full version with a table of contents for easier navigation!

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🗳️3D Layout

As you can see, the backbone of this illustration is the 3D model. I spent perhaps 30-40% of my production time on this stage.

And this is the lit version. The lighting ultimately got downplayed in favor of showcasing the vibrant colors. I like how simple it looks though!

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🎬Production-Based Set Dressing

In addition to merchandise, I wanted to insert set dressing and props from the various Mononoke productions.

🦊Kusuriuri

It’s odd to have a section dedicated just to him, but his unique appearance warrants it. His garb and overall appearance is an amalgam of the anime and movie. The original intent was ambiguity– kind of like the blue/black vs. yellow/white dress phenomena a few years back. But after doing the color flats, I rather liked how the rich, unaltered colored fit with the overall composition so it became more blatant. I’m surprised that nobody has commented on this since I published the illustration. Maybe because I didn’t feature him in a close-up?

🐈 kai ~Ayakashi~Bake Neko (2006)

Finding props iconic to this story arc (outside of the Kusuriuri’s tools of trade, of course) was somewhat difficult. While the environment was richly decorated, it mainly consisted of 2D artwork which I wasn’t keen on retracing. I opted to paint objects that characters interacted with or featured heavily in the show.

Salt Jar

Candlestick

Rat Trap

🦋Mononoke (2007)

The props fall into three distinct categories here: Kusuriuri’s tools and trinkets; things featured in the opening and ending credits; and objects iconic to each of the five story arcs in the series. I tried to keep most of them clustered on the tatami, but as space grew scarce some props trickled up onto the deck as well.

Medicine Box

Exorcism Sword

Tenbin

Paper Talisman

Mirror

Ring

Geta Sandal

Necklace

Paper Umbrella (Zashikiwarashi)

Daruma Dolls ( Zashikiwarashi)

Gunpowder Ball (Umi Bozu)

Smoking Pipe (Nopperabou)

Genjiko Blocks (Nue)

Train Ticket (Bake Neko)

Lantern (Anime OP)

Butterflies (Anime EP)

☂️Mononoke: Karakasa (2024)

Pretty slim pickings for the new movie since I only had the teaser, first trailer, and movie poster to reference from. Kusuriuri’s tools of trade were a given, but finding memorable and narratively significant objects was a tad troublesome.

Thankfully, the set dressing ended up (however subconsciously) strikingly similar to the movie’s environment design, down to the green tatami and multicolor shoji screen. I suppose at this point I was so immersed in Mononoke content that its aesthetics subconsciously informed my design choices!

Exorcism Sword

Tenbin

Paper Talisman

Comb

Movie Poster

Butterfly (Custom design)

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🪭Official Merchandise

Goods related to canonical narratives and/or productions.

🎊15th Anniversary

Mononoke Shu - A light novel by Hideyui Niki & illustrated by 2964_KO

Whiskey Glass & Box

📖 Key Frame Art Books by Hashimoto Takashi

Ayakashi Key Art Frame Book (2010)

Key Frame Art Book vol.9 (2017)

📚Manga by Yaeko Ninagawa

Kai Ayakashi: Bake Neko Vol. 1-2

Kai Ayakashi: Mononoke Prequel

Mononoke Vol. 1-10

🎭Butai Mononoke

Bakeneko Pamphlet

Zashikiwarashi Pamphlet

Zashikiwarashi Acrylic Standees

Zashikiwarashi Manegi

💿Physical Media

Official OST CD

DVD Box Set

Yokai Pattern Fabric

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Common Collab Merchandise

This category consists of goods that are generally more affordable and feature graphics from the source material with minimal alterations.

Amnibus

Wall Scrolls

Tenugui Fabric

Shot Glasses

Minoyaki Bean Plates

ANIGA-TER

Stickers

Can Badges

Canvas Prints

Anique

Diorama Acrylic Stand

Acrylic Blocks

Challenge Kuji

Kusuriuri & Hyper Clocks

eeo Store Online

Folding Fan

Keychains

Can Badges

gj character G

Cushion

Acrylic Charms

Neo Gate

Satchels

Mini Badges

Mini Badges by Mame Shinoda

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High-End Collab Merchandise

Goods which derive motifs from the characters, props, and patterns from the production and transform them in an elevated manner through abstraction or usage of precious materials.

gj character G

Exorcism Sword Ring

Goodsmile

Kusuriuri Nendoroid Figurine

Folding Screen

Kusuriuri & Hyper Plush

Tote Bag

Kaya

Umbrella

Tenbin Kanzashi

Tabi Socks

Dress

Kotobukiya

Figurine

Mayla

Pump Heels

Kusuriuri & Hyper Hairpins

Tenbin Earrings

Hyper Earrings

Noitamina Apparel

Perfume

Tenbin Necklace

Folding Fan

Super Groupies

Purse

Wallet

Watch

Tsumuji Design

Exorcism Sword Necklace

Ofuda Bracelet

Useless Use Lab

Fragrance Set

Air Purifier

Three-Sided Mirror

#mononoke 2007 #mononoke 2024 #mononoke fanart #medicine seller #kusuriuri #モノノ怪 #mononoke anime #薬売り #mononoke #fan art #purplealmonds #2024

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cozage · 1 year

Text

OP Boys and..."I like the way your hand fits in mine."

Gender neutral reader

Characters: Luffy, Zoro, Kid, Shanks

Luffy

He took off down the street, intrigued by the sudden commotion. You barely had time to grab his hand before he vanished in front of you.

“Luffyyyy!” You attempt to stand your ground to pull him back, but he has too much momentum already, and you slingshot towards him. “Luffy, slow down!”

You crash into him, sending you both tumbling into a poor couple nearby. Luffy’s gleeful cackle breaks through the stunned silence of the crowd. You quickly stand up and brush yourself off, embarrassed that the two of you have brought so much attention to yourselves.

Luffy is still laughing as he stands up again with you. “Aw man! I like the way your hand fits in mine!” He grabs your hand again, interlacing his fingers with yours and squeezing it tightly. “Don’t let it go again!” He bounds off again, unfazed by the commotion he’s created, pulling you alongside him. “Let’s go find adventure!”

Zoro

There was an uneasiness that hung in the air along with the thick fog, and you felt yourself pressing closer to Zoro as you nervously eyed your surroundings. A sudden crash behind you made you jump, and you instinctively grabbed Zoro’s free hand and held it tightly.

You could feel his eyes shift towards you, but he didn’t object, and you didn’t let go. You felt better knowing he couldn’t wander away. His hand wasn’t tense, despite your intense grip. He looked and felt calm, even though you could tell he was constantly looking for the perpetrator that you both knew was watching you.

Before you could register what was happening, he dropped your hand and drew his blade, slashing out at the unseen man who was charging at you through the fog. The man instantly dropped to the ground, unconscious. As he fell, Zoro sheathed his sword and dropped his arm back to his side. “Thanks,” you whispered, still processing exactly what just happened. Zoro merely grunted in return.

After a few moments, his hand brushed against yours, twitching. You pulled away and muttered an apology for bumping into him, but his hand chased after your own and grabbed it firmly. “I like the way your hand fits in mine,” he mutters, looking away and scratching the back of his head with his free hand. You can see his cheeks have a rose hue dancing across them, and you squeeze his hand in return.

“Me too.��

Kid

“What the hell are you doing?” Kidd demands, confusion dancing across his face.

“Look, we’re in handcuffs. It’s just easier to hold hands, okay?” Your wrist hurt from being jerked around by Kid’s antics. Perhaps if he could remember that he couldn’t use his hand, he’d be less likely to throw you around while moving it.

Kid groans, but doesn’t protest any further. “Let’s just find a way to get out of these damn cuffs. I’m tired of not being able to use my devil fruit powers.”

You all quietly sneak through the halls and into the Administrative Office that held the keys to the hand cuffs. After trying three keys, the lock finally releases, and the shackles fall to the ground.

As you retreat back through where you came, you realize you’re still holding Kid’s hand. Embarrassed, you start to let go, but he grips your hand tighter, refusing to let your hand slip away from his. “Not yet.” He says, pulling you along with him through the maze of matching corridors.

“But I thought-”

“Yeah, well, I like the way your hand fits in mine.” He grips it tighter, on the verge of being painful. You give him a light squeeze of reassurance, and continue following him without another word, a smile lingering on your face for the rest of the escape.

Shanks

The bar was lively, which was commonplace whenever the red-haired pirates were around. Shanks twirled you around on the dance floor, the two of you pushing together and pulling apart in perfect harmony. He was a great dancer, and you complimented each other well.

The music was cut off abruptly by the sounds of glass breaking and people screaming. Shanks grabbed your hand and pulled you behind him, shielding you from any harm while he addressed the situation that was unfolding.

A young pirate group, about 20 members strong, had entered the tavern and started causing a ruckus. “Listen, fellas,” Shanks tone was lighthearted on the surface but was laced with threats. “We’re all here to have a good time, now. You’re going to have to settle down or head outside.”

The pirate crew laughed maliciously. “Don’t you know who we are, old man?” The leader sneered. “Our crew has a combined bounty of 700 million berries. I think you’re the one who needs to step outside.” You could hear footsteps approaching, but Shank’s frame obscured your vision from seeing the perpetrator.

“Hey, what the-” the man who was speaking falters, and you can hear fists beating on flesh, swords being drawn. The townspeople scream and flee the tavern, leaving only pirates and those looking for a fight to battle it out.

Shanks turns back to you, still holding your hand. “Sorry about the interruption. Should just be a moment.” He smiles and spins you in a circle again.

You raise an eyebrow at the red-haired pirate. “You don’t want to help?”

“You see, I would. But the thing is,” he pauses for a moment a chuckles softly to you. “I just really like the way your hand fits in mine.”

You blush at the sentiment, and you all resume your dance, this time to battle cries and sword fights.

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aphroditesmoon · 5 months

Note

Hiiii! Love your clarisse oneshots ^^. Could you possibly do one where Fem!reader is the daughter of Hades and has a hellhound as a pet that absolutely adores clarisse? Reader also has a similar personality to clarisse, loves to fight and has a big pride but only lets her guard down around Clarisse.(also possibly has her own electric weapon of your choice)Thank you!!

creatures of the night

clarisse la rue x fem!hades'cabin!reader

warnings: none

a/n: sorry this is so short, hope u like it<3

wc; 1.1k

You would never consider your relationship with your father as better than anyone else's relationship with their own parent in camp.

But when you had been claimed by Hades as well as being gifted a long black javelin with gold wrapped around the sharp edge on the same night you arrived at camp Half Blood, it seemed well established to everyone else and including yourself, that your father acknowledges your existence proudly.

Being one of the people in the small list of forbidden children, had created a fearsome reputation around your presence, and honestly speaking, you enjoy the privileges that come with it.

Although it was hard making friends considering your less friendly personality, some campers stuck by your side anyways. Those who bore you enormous respects and had been intrigued by your mysterious air instead of intimidated.

One of them being the infamous child of Ares, Clarisse La Rue.

Beautiful, strong and hot headed, Clarisse La Rue.

The two of you are often compared as the two sides of the same coin. Your personalities differ from eachother in many ways, but when it came to your goals and aims, you both are usually on the same team.

It's safe to say that you are less hostile than Clarisse. You prefer to keep to yourself whilst she prefered to assert dominance onto the other campers. And yet you are the more feared than her.

Clarisse is commonly brutal and unrelenting, but you usually saved up the worst of your tricks for when necessity calls for it. For now, intimidation worked well enough.

What's funny enough, is how Clarisse herself had a certain trepidation when she first befriended you. She learned soon that you were just another demigod girl just like she was, glory aside.

One of the instances where she felt that she had truly seen you as you are, all the facade dropped down, was when you first introduced her to your hound, Cerberus.

Your father had gifted him to you for your 15th birthday. It was one of yoir proudest moments in life. Demigods are almost never cared for that much by their parents, and so to have your coming of age be recognised by your father was a huge thing.

"Is that not the same name as Hades' own three headed hound?" She asked, staring at it for afar from the corner of your bed.

"I know, that's why I named him that." You explained to her as you're sat criss-crossed on the floor, scratching the beasts' chin.

Cerberus, once he deemed Clarisse as not a threat, rolled down on the ground on his stomach.

"Look at him, such a good boy." You were distracted by your new pet all day, ignoring your poor girlfriend who had come over to your cabin to spend time with you. "He's almost as tall as you." Clarisse spoke sarcastically, picking you on your height.

"That's not a fair observation. Most things are almost as tall as me." You responded, still not looking up.

"Are you just gonna keep standing there staring at me?" You asked her finally, realising just how weird the distance between you two were.

Clarisse was hesitant, frowning at your pet like he was some sort of threat. "I...think I'm good here." She muttered loud enough for your ears. "Oh, come on."

Clarisse shook her head as you complained about her irrationality. "Look at him, he's friendly." And he was, Cerberus had warmed up to you quickly and have not shown a single tendency for violence against your girlfriend.

"Come and say hello to him, Clarisse." You called out to her again.

You hear her sigh from the other side of the room. After a few more minutes pass, her footsteps grow louder as she moves nearer to you.

Clarisse squats down to meet Cerberus and flinched as he lifts his head up to sniff her. You reached for her hand, trying to get him to smell it. She pulls her hand back at first, but after a few more pulls, Clarisse relents and lets the hound give her knuckles a lick. "That tickles." She mumbled under her breath.

"He likes you, see." She gives a resigned look, like she's just going along with what you're saying. "No, I'm serious, look at how nice he's acting." You nudged your head towards Cerberus' head, encouraging her to give him a pet

Clarisse braves herself to give him a few strokes on his ears and found that he particularly likes that notion. "I guess he's not that bad." She admitted at last, pulling out a smile from you. "I told you."

"So what is he then? Some sort of guard dog?" She inquires. The gods would gift their children with tools that can be used, never something useless, like a domesticated pet. And from the looks of it, Cerberus is definitely not meant to be a some cute little friend.

"I don't know." You answered honestly.

"It's not like my dad does a lot of talking to me, but he gave me something from the underworld, something that's set as a reminder of him and his place above. I'd like to view it as some sort of stepping stone. Like I'm one step closer to him because of Cerberus."

It's not surprising that your end goal is to follow on your father's footsteps, no one really knows what the real secret to make their godly parent to care about them is.

It is often assumed that glory was the key, and yet, the best fighters in camp a

re usually the ones who resent their parents the most. You often prayed and hoped that you wouldn't ever have to cross that threshold.

"I'm sure he sees it that way too." Clarisse offered kindly. She knew all too well how much it meant to be noticed by their absent fathers, even if so slightly.

She slso knew deep down that even if your father refused to notice the lengths you would be willing to go for him, she did. And she would break the world in two for you if your father wouldn't. And you would do the same for her.

Clarisse leans her back against the lower frame of the bed, a small smile on her face as she watches you scratch the hound's chin whilst kissing the spot in between his eyes.

It is truly rare to catch sight of either daughters of Ares or Hades' being as gentle and playful as this, and Clarisse is grateful that these kind of intimacies are reserved for small private moments.

That same night, as she sleeps with her arms around your waist, Cerberus laying down by the foot of the bed, Clarisse realises that she would do anything for the bond between the two of you to prevail.

#clarisse la rue #clarisse la rue x reader #pjo series #pjo #pjo x reader #pjo tv show #percy jackon and the olympians #percy jackson and the olympians #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #dior goodjohn

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felixandresims · 1 year

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Let me introduce you to CHATEAU Part 2, a 37-item set for your Chateaus entrance and hallways.

An area that I was always longing to have more items for was a 'grand foyer'. I simply wanted to have proper french stairs but was too afraid of trying out creating them. I pulled myself together and made the stairs plus additional pieces such as curved landings and suitable french fence and railing pieces. Now that I made stone stairs, in the future I will also create a wooden one, the possibilities are endless :D.

Another Area I haven't touched for quite some time is proper historical pieces, but a chateau set can't live without them. I sat down and created a Lous XV console table as a full and quarter version ( actually I found a console table at Hotel de la Marine in Paris and had to recreate it with a twist and incorporated a Plumbob) and a Rococo Mirror inspired by an original from Athena Calderone's apartment. The Mirror comes in three height options. I also made a hanging light and a wall sconce. Two additional items that are less historic but more rustic are a round table, perfect for giant bouquet displays, and a potted Fiddle Leaf tree :)

In this month's set, you will also find a classic Parisian wooden floor, a black and white stone floor, and wallpaper with handpainted patterns( Which I created myself from scratch). I also didn't want to miss out on interior doors :)

This Set is on Early Access now and you can download it here

A little heads up about what's coming next: kitchen month :)

Thank you so so much for all your support and love and I hope you enjoy my new set. Don't worry I didn't forget about the shell building!

Happy Simming!

#ts4cc download #ts4 historical #ts4 finds #ts4 maxis match #france #chateau #provence #parisian #entrance #felixandresims

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nsharks · 4 months

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bleeding blue | apocalypse au

part nineteen —other parts

pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x fem!reader words: 3k tags: death. blood. cannibalism mention. zombies of course. AFAB reader. single dad ghost. there will be sex but it isn’t here yet. slow burn!!! enemies to lovers. summary: After losing your companions, you run into a skull-masked man and his daughter. They are your last hope for survival.

The cool paste feels tingly on your skin as you rub it against your bruised stomach, wincing. Christ. Maybe Ghost was right to think he might break you. Beneath the mottled patchwork, another kind of pain stirs— your muscles are growing. Firm and tight. The only soft parts of you left are your breasts and your ass. Gently applying the paste to a nasty purple one on your left cheek, you curiously pinch the sore flesh between your fingers. Scratch that. Even your ass is firming up.

Arnica has healing properties. Yesterday, you found a patch of it with Blue and created a salve with some water. You already applied some last night before bed. Whether or not it’s helping probably doesn't mean much when new ones are about to be added; still, the placebo effect brings some comfort.

You're still massaging your backside when the bathroom door groans beneath a heavy fist.

"Hurry up. Grab your bow."

“Shit.” You startle, almost dropping the salve. "Uh, coming.”

Chucking on a clean shirt and your old pair of jeans, you pad out of the bathroom, ignoring the cry of your joints. Ghost is outside waiting for you. Wait— bow? Confusion delivers an uptick to your pulse; you never bring your bow to train.

“What’s going on?”

"The air," he replies in a flat tone.

The stale smell offers enough explanation. You cringe. "Should we split up?"

He shakes his head and nods towards the direction the gentle breeze is rolling in. "No need. It's coming from this way."

In the violet wash of morning, you trail beside him over tall grasses and scattered groundhog burrows as the air leads the way, luring you opposite the clearing where you train. There haven't been any Greys since the one you burned together. For the past few weeks, you'd almost forgotten about their existence— a pleasant naivety for once.

Neither of you bothers with much small talk. He asks if you're sore, probably noticing how stiff you are, and you answer honestly. That's it.

You keep your attention strictly on the wood bow molded into your palm and the slight rustling of leaves all around you, scanning for signs of anything astray. You don't look at Ghost, even when you feel his eyes flicker to the side of your head. Staring at him for even a second longer than necessary rouses something in your gut that was once easy to label as fear; now you don't know what to call it.

He is wearing thicker clothes today, the intimidating vest stocked with ammo glued to his chest. You'd gotten used to his more casual wardrobe of gym shorts and hoodies. They make him look... softer, almost. A little less like a death omen. Though, you sincerely doubt there are any soft parts of Ghost left under all that gear, given the rigid planes you felt beneath your hands when you—

"There."

You snap your gaze in the direction Ghost is pointing at.

At first, you don't see anything.

Then, squinting, you make out a red color far too metallic to naturally sprout among the conifers.

An arrow is urgently slotted on the bowstring as the two of you head towards it, your brows tightly knitted. You've been this way a few times and never saw a— is that a red car?— before. Closing in, your suspicions are confirmed when a stroke of sunlight bounces off the metal bumper. The patchy sedan is tucked within a bush, tail-end sticking out, with half-flat tires resting on corroded rims. Shadows of movement dance behind the tinted windows, too disjointed to be natural.

"What the fuck?" you mutter under your breath, boots scuffing over a long-faded gravel pathway that is now shrouded in weeds. The car must've been following it before winding up in the bush— the occupants no longer human enough to drive.

"They... they must have just turned while they were driving," you think aloud. "When did this even get here?"

"Maybe during the night," Ghost mutters.

He paces forward and swings open the passenger door. A string of moans is released as a Grey lurches within the confinements of the seatbelt, but he quickly silences it with a bullet to the forehead, causing it to flop sideways out of the car. Maybe just a day ago, it was a young man. His hair is fully intact and he's wearing a blue shirt with the Chelsea Football Club logo on the back.

"I wonder why they were driving this way to begin with," you say quietly, stomach rolling.

In the driver's seat is the slumped-over corpse of an older man, having died from so many bite wounds before the infection could take hold. The early stages of decomposition smell almost worse than the infection and you have to breathe through your mouth as you head for the back door.

"There's another here I think."

You're ready to shoot and put whoever it once was out of their misery when you pry open the door, but the sight of a small body wriggling around makes you freeze. Curled up against the faded leather is an infected boy, no older than eight or nine. His eyes are all white except for the outer rim where a few vessels are still filled with red blood. Your fingertips dig fiercely into the frame of the door as you stare down at him; his soft brown hair, his small hands, his Minecraft shirt. He whimpers and tries to claw at you, mouth hung open in mindless hunger.

The feeling that washes over you is hot and cold at the same time. It's not the first or last time you've seen an infected child, so you don't know why the sight traps you for a few heartbeats.

A voice emerges beside you. "It's not a kid anymore."

You almost forgot Ghost was there. Your teeth clench. "Yeah, I know."

You feel his eyes burning into you. Your fingers tighten and untighten around the arrow's stem as you aim.

"Hone it, Twix— the anger."

The tension in your jaw releases at the same time as your arrow snaps forward, cutting through the boy's skull and driving his limp body down to the car floor.

“You good?”

You forcefully swallow and look away, giving Ghost a short nod. "Guess that's all of them."

He slowly nods in agreement, studying you, but all he says is, "For now."

“Don’t you think it’s strange?”

“Seen stranger things over the years,” he says. “It seems like they were headed somewhere, maybe needed a new place to settle, and one of them got bit. Infected the others.”

You nod, thinking it over. “What about the car?"

"No fuel left, so it's pretty useless." Rifle still in his grip, he moves around to the hood and props it open. "Might have some parts I can use, though."

While he scavenges for gears that aren't rusted beyond functionality, you take a look at their belongings. There is an empty bottle of whiskey in the cupholder. In the boy's lap is a stuffed tiger that you assume was once white, but now it's a worn of grey. You carefully shift his corpse and take it.

"I have a friend who might be able to care of this for you."

In the trunk, at least, you find some tripwire.

Dragging the two adult bodies back to the trench for burning is your 'strength' training for the day. Since they haven't decomposed much yet, they're heavy; you go back and forth, taking one at a time. Ghost carries the small one over his shoulder. After the flames snuff out the smell of rot, he relieves you, claiming he has other shit to take care of—more traps to set with the newfound tripwire.

"Hey. Would you like this?" you ask Blue when she's up, handing her the tiger.

"I'm kinda too old for dolls, Twix." She must see the expression on your face because she shakes her head and disappears into her room for a minute before coming out with a teddy bear. "My mom gave me this one when I was a baby and it just sits on my bed by itself, but now it can have a friend."

You smile and nod. "Yeah, okay."

The day is spent playing board games with her. When she notices how sore you are, she offers an exclusive massage from Grim, who hops over your back and legs as you relax face-down on the couch. However, even with the honorary treatment, the aching lingers.

"Auntie, I'm over here!"

In a violet-tinted field, you search for the voice.

It's barren and hazy, with no hard edges or places for a little boy to hide; so why is it so hard to find him? You call his name. You wander around, aimless, until you catch a familiar whiff of baked cinnamon and fresh laundry. This way. He's this way. You start running fervently. When a small hand tugs at yours, you whip around and try to grab him, but the soft touch dissolves through your fingers like ash.

When you wake up, there's a hand on your back and blood on your tongue, evidence that you'd bitten through it during your sleep. The taste is quickly replaced with bile as you launch up, grabbing the sleeve of someone's shirt.

"Oh no, you don't."

The hand moves to your hair, wrapping it around in a fistful before forcing your head to tilt down. A bucket is tucked beneath your chin. You vomit into it, the cool metal rim hissing against your fingertips. Again and again. When it's all out, your throat feels like sandpaper.

"Done?"

The dark room surrounds you; the perfect place to hide what you know must be a ghastly look on your face. Awareness creeps in, and you're not thrilled by the fact that you've thrown up in front of him twice now. Without looking up at the white skull you know is there, you nod.

Wordlessly, he takes out a cigarette and lighter. You hear a deep inhale. See the dull glow of the flame. Then, he passes it to you and leaves.

"You look like shit today."

You can't even be offended, fully aware of the purple painted beneath your eyes. One look at you quirks his brow up in that annoying mannerism of his.

You offer a tight-lipped simper, mumbling. "At least I can always count on you for brutal honesty."

"Good trait to look for in an ally." He throws the gauze at you and you begin wrapping up. "I don't suppose it has anything to do with the fact you nearly ruined another shirt of mine last night."

You tie off the gauze and glance up. "Look, I'm s—" you stop yourself, "I mean, I'm not sorry, because you wanted my box open so now it's open. You already knew the potential consequences."

"Try opening it without emptying your stomach next time."

You flash him a look. "I think I miss when you pretended I didn't exist."

"And I miss getting a full night of sleep."

"Can we just get started? I'm ready."

Ghost keeps his eyes on you as he motions a fisted hand. "As you wish."

When the familiar dance begins, and adrenaline ripples up your spine, you realize that you missed this yesterday. The rest felt good, but this— the thrill of seeing Ghost start to get as worked up as you, the sweat stains on his shirt matching your own... it is something you itch for these days.

You get a few hits in that have your ego swelling. But then— the rough night catches up with you after half an hour of wordless sparring. Your breathing grows labored, while his is barely winded.

"Tired yet?" he asks.

"No," you say, but he calls you out immediately.

"You're a terrible liar," he reminds you. A few more swings have your lungs burning as you dodge until one finally catches up with you, and whatever healing your homemade salve has done is erased by a fresh layer of pain.

As you clutch your side, he changes the subject. "Are you going to tell me what it was about then?"

"What what was about?"

"Whatever was making you whimper in your sleep."

Your face twists. "I wasn't 'whimpering'."

"Fine, then. Crying," he corrects plainly.

You sigh through your nose, averting your gaze only for a moment, then focusing back on him before he can strike you again. His words hang in the air, ignored, as you jab an elbow toward his ribs. He grabs you by the knob of it and pulls you unnecessarily close to his chest. When you try to wriggle free by placing a hand on his chest, he fists your hair, which has slipped out of a bun into a haphazard ponytail, and tugs hard enough to force your eyes up to his.

His gaze is demanding but his voice is light— a mere breath over your forehead. "Tell me why someone who has seen plenty of infected kids by now seemed so bothered by the one she saw yesterday. He reminded you of someone, didn't he?"

The mention of it makes you snap. "Stop."

"Stop what?"

"Trying to act like you know anything about me."

"I know enough. You are easy to read."

So that feeling you get when he looks at you isn't just in your head; he truly can see through. Your nails dig into your palm. "There's no need to read me. We're not friends. We're just... allies, or whatever."

"Or whatever," he repeats thoughtfully, tasting the words. "You talk like a teenager."

"Compared to you I might as well be," you retort.

"Jesus." He chuffs out an exhale, eyes flickering down for a moment before returning up to yours, narrowing. "Let's not change the subject here."

"Fine. Take this stupid Halloween mask off," you lift the hand on his chest up to the hem of his balaclava, feeling how weighted the fabric is with sweat. "And I will tell you all about it."

His jaw flexes before he gently guides your hand away. "Tempting offer, but I'll pass."

You refuse to acknowledge the tinge of embarrassment at his dismissal and inch back as far as the hand on your hair will allow. The close proximity, or harsh sun, is making it hard to breathe. "Well, it's not fair for you to ask me shit about my life when you don't even let me see your face."

"I never claimed to be fair."

"I promise I won't vomit no matter how ugly you are. I've seen worse things out here."

His hand tightens. "I think I miss when you were scared of me. Less mouthy back then."

"Well, I'm not anymore."

"No?" He flips you around so your back is against him, one hand settling on the toned curve of your hip. His voice lowers to your ear. "Maybe I need to fix that."

An unwelcomed shiver courses through you. He lets go. A wristbone nudges against your spine, shoving you forward. Irritation simmers in your veins when his remark finally registers, and you whirl around, readying your stance.

"If you even think about threatening me after I explicitly asked you not to, then I would suggest sleeping with a knife tonight."

"Who's threatening who, Twix?" He gives a low chuckle. "Relax. I'm sure I could handle you in my sleep, anyway."

He's egging you on; you know it. And yet, you stubbornly take the bait. His knee— the right one. That's where you got him last time that made him falter. Maybe an old injury. But when you swing a boot at it, he expects your attempt, knocking you away by the ankle.

"Ah. Eager to get me beneath you again?"

Pink sears your cheeks as you wipe a trickle of sweat from your forehead. "I'm eager to humble you for once."

"Might need to keep your dinner down to do that."

You grit your teeth. So maybe he did allow it last time. The realization darts your eyes to his wide stance, searching for an idea. Without second-guessing yourself, you kick at the other knee. He must find your second attempt amusing because he easily predicts it, but before he can catch your leg, you snap it back and drop yourself to the ground.

The brief distraction allows the second of time needed to fit yourself between his legs. You're slim enough to push through, kicking at the inside of both knees once you're on the other side. His legs buckle, and you reach up to pull his arm, finishing the job.

Once he's down, you scramble to get on top, not caring if your boot kicks his face in the process. You grab both of his wrists and bring them above his head, but it's impossible to wrap your fingers all the way around them. Instead, you lace them through his fingers, breathing hard in his face as your breasts meld against the solid heat of him.

"Did you allow that?"

His voice is rougher than you've ever heard it. "No."

Your lips furl. "Good."

A dark gleam passes through his dilated pupils that makes your head fuzzy. You let go of his hands. Immediately, they gravitate to your hips again, thumbs fiercely pressing into the sliver of skin exposed from where your shirt rides up. You don't move even an inch, frozen in place as you stare down at where he grips you against him. That feeling in your gut deepens and spreads. It is hard to pinpoint—so insane and foreign yet familiar at the same time—but one thing is certain: it begins and ends where his rough skin touches yours.

Before you can figure anything else out, a scream shatters the air, and Ghost rips you off of him in one swift movement.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost #cod #simon ghost riley x reader #fanfiction

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droserapetals · 5 months

Text

Arranged Marriage

Pairing: Naoya x (f!)reader

Synopsis: You are forced to marry the one and only Naoya Zenin, ruthless leader of the Zenin clan. You try to make an escape from you’re fate, but let’s see how far that gets you.

Content: MDNI (18+ only), nsfw, power dynamic, size difference, arranged marriage, dubcon (i feel like it’s always kinda dubcon with this wackadoodle), p->v, unprotected sex, creampie, breeding, body betrayal, biting, blood, praise, swearing, pet names (doll/princess/love/baby), brief mention/implication of pregnancy, reader gets hunted, reader was is a virgin, reader and Naoya are adults (obviously).

————————————————————————

Naoya lets out a frustrated shout as you ran, his eyes narrowing into sharp slits as he watches you with a look of pure, unhinged fury. *How dare you? You think you could get away from me that easily?* His fists clench and unclench, shaking on his wrists. *You belong to me.*

You can barely feel the rocks and sticks scratching at your legs and bare feet as you maneuver through the the foliage of the desolate forest as quickly as you can manage. You’re Trying to create as much distance from you and the angry man behind you as possible.

How did you end up like this? Well for starters, your father sold you off to the Zenin clan after being offered a hefty lump some of money. Figures, that slimy-cheap bastard.

It wasn’t long before your beauty was taken notice by the green-haired man referred to as Naoya Zenin. His eyes hooded in a predatory hunger as his gaze raked over your frame, lingering at your pillow soft lips. He would make you his. He was sure of that.

As soon as you entered the estate, you were immediately forced in a scratchy white gown, a few sizes too small, breasts almost spilling out of the heart line top, and sent to his chambers without even as much as a word of having a wedding reception beforehand. Not that you wanted that anyway.

As soon as the lords escorts walk you up to his door and knock, they begin to walk away, not wanting to stick around for what they could imagine will come about you shortly after your arrival to the lords chambers.

As soon as the men round the corner, your head whips back around to the sound of the door in front of you squeaking open slowly.

In that moment you don’t think. You run.

So here you are, running away from your so called “husband” you’ve never even properly met on your technically phrased “honeymoon night.”

You barely hear the crickets chirping from a unknown distance through the pounding of your heartbeat in your eardrums. You don’t even know where you are going, much less where you are. You were blindfolded upon arrival. The Zenin clan is very discrete on there whereabouts to avoid their rivals showing up… unannounced. Even though your odds are slim at obtaining your own freedom, you just keep on moving, adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Naoya follows, moving at a frightening speed. His footsteps travel hastily through the forest, his movements swift and precise like a predator hunting down its prey. The trees rustle, the bushes crack, the leaves crinkling as he maneuvers through them.

Naoya is getting closer. He’ll find you. You are his.

The hem of your long skirt snags against a root protruding from the forest floor, and you are briefly stuck. You curse, yanking your skirt and tearing a good chunk of it in the process. You stagger forward.

Your legs are starting to cramp and you’re beginning to get light headed. Not good. You can’t remember the last full meal or glass of water you’ve had since being brought to that estate, and it seems to be catching up with you now. You stumble across a hollow log by a creek and hurry to dive in it. Trying to catch your breath as you hide. Your lungs are burning and your hands can’t stop trembling, and you can only hope that the running sounds of water flowing downstream covers the shallow gasps you are making to collect yourself.

Naoya scans the distance, his breath coming quickly and heavy. He sniffs the air. “Come out now love, I can smell your fear.” He licks his lips. “If you come to my feet now and beg to be forgiven I might consider going easy on you.” He can’t help himself from getting a little hard at the thought of you resisting his advances. As troublesome as it may be. He groans. His gaze moves to the trees and bushes, to the creek that flows nearby. “Where is she…” He whispers, his expression darkening. Every second that passes is agony for him. He’s so close to having you back in his grasp, to making you his.

You hold your breath as you hear him getting closer. Your hands covering your mouth. Then, after what feels like an eternity, it sounds like footsteps are receding. You can’t help but feel a small wave of relief wash over you. Freedom feeling more obtainable than before. You wait a second more before slowly crawling out of the log, and assessing your next move.

As you shimmy all the way out, you get on your feet. All you can hear is the quiet rustle of the leaves. The breeze blows through your hair, causing some wisps to suspend in the air briefly. The feeling could be described as calming and ethereal if not given the circumstances. Wait, weren’t there crickets chirping a second ago?

Now it’s eerily quiet.

You freeze as you feel a pair of eyes on you. You hesitantly look up and almost choke. You see a dark shadow with glowing orbs looking down on your cowering form predatorily. You can’t see but only sense the triumphant smirk they have on their face, camouflaged by the shadows.

"Found you."

You stumble back in fear at the sound of the deep growl of the voice above and try to scramble away on all fours. “No!”

Naoya leaps off the tree branch with a heavy thud and quickly grabs you, his grip tight as he pulls you back toward him effectively pinning you to the forest floor. “You’re not going anywhere.” He growls, his expression darkening. He leans over you, his scent invading your nostrils, as his lips trace down your neck to your collarbone. His breath is hot and heavy, like he’s excited.

“Don’t you think it’d be better to just give in now?”

You squeeze your eyes shut, hoping this is all just a sick and twisted dream you can wake up from. When that doesn’t work, you try shouting. “Help! Please, someone hel- mmph!“

Naoya clamps a hand over your mouth before you can get a word out. His grip is tight, his hand large and overbearing. "No one can hear us out here," He mutters, his voice low and menacing. "Save your breath."

His hand trails down your back, down until he meets your thigh. His gaze trails down to your legs, and his mouth curls into a satisfied grin. "I’ve finally caught you. I can do whatever I want with you now."

____________________________________________

“All that screaming and crying… for nothing,” Naoya tsks, tone mocking as he throws you onto his soft duvet, not bothering with the dirt and grime caking your frame. Not as much so, but he is fairly disheveled himself. Some dampened strands of his emerald locks matted to his head from your guys’… “escapade” earlier, and a bead of sweat could be seen falling and disappearing behind the collar of his button-up shirt. He now makes his way over to you, crawling on the bed at all fours with eyes that are hooded in rage… and lust.

As he hovers over you, he lifts his head to give you a condescending grin. “You still ended up here with me. So much for getting away, huh?” There’s an underlying bitterness to his words. Like he’s upset you tried to leave him at all.

You look away, willing myself not to cry. *I’m stronger than that.* “I can’t be with you, Naoya. I won’t stop until I can escape here and you.” You now look up at him defiantly.

“Escape?” Naoya asks the question as though he hasn’t heard it a thousand times before. He rises from the bed, letting his eyes run across your body. “Escape…?” He leans closer to you and takes a finger and gently runs it along your collarbone. He can see the desperation in your eyes. How you struggle to keep from crying.

You try not to shiver at his touch but fail miserably. “What do you want from me. Why choose to marry me of all people?” Your lower lip quivers slightly.

His touch lingers, taking in every detail of your skin. He leans forward. His breath is hot and his eyes are predatory as he glares at you. “You of all people?” He asks the question as though you should already know the answer. His hands trail down your body, his fingers inching toward the hem of your dress, toward the fabric that hides what he wants so desperately.

You squeak in embarrassment. Pressing your legs together so he can’t reach any further. “Naoya, stop!”

“Stop?” Naoya raises an eyebrow, his expression dark. His voice is a dangerous, husky whisper. “No, I think I’ll continue.” It’s a threat, a promise.

A tear finally escapes and runs down your cheek quietly as you look up at him, a faint blush on your cheeks.

Naoya’s lips part, taking in the sight of you crying as his mouth twists into a satisfied grin. “What a pretty sight.” He says, his voice still low and threatening. He looks at the tear that trails down your cheek, taking in its beauty like a predator savoring its prey.

He leans forward to wipe away the tear, to brush his lips against your wet skin.

You hold back a moan lodged in your throat and shudder. Not wanting to give him the satisfaction that your responding to his touch. You look away from him and bite your lip defiantly.

Naoya laughs softly, his hand trailing behind your head as his fingers twine around your hair. You can almost feel his gaze, raking down your body and taking what he wants just by staring. Your attempts at defiance don’t faze him.

“Such a stubborn girl,” He whispers, his tone low and harsh. He leans forward, his lips right beside your ear. “But I’ll break you.”

You hide your whimper by scoffing lightly. You attempt to push him off of you, but to no success. He doesn’t even budge. His frame towers over yours, and you know if he wanted he could crush your windpipe single handily without a second thought. That realization makes you gulp.

Naoya’s grip tightens around your hair as you try to get away. His mouth traces your jawline as his eyes glisten in the low light. “You don’t want this?” He asks, feigning surprise. But the arousal in his eyes says otherwise.

You give up trying to push him off and a groan escapes your throat at him pulling your hair before you could contain it. “Naoya please. I’m a… virgin.” You look away again. Face getting hot and heat spreading down to the lower parts of you to your dismay.

Naoya freezes, his grip loosening as he looks at you. Your lack of experience seems to both please and intrigue him. “That can change,” Naoya mutters. His lips trail down your neck, and his hands move from your hair to your waist, gripping you firmly.

“W-what do you mean by that?” You look at him through your long lashes with a clueless doe-like expression.

Naoya grins at you. You’re so cute and you don’t even realize it. “Exactly what you *think* I mean,” He whispers, bringing you in closer. Your breath catches in your throat as he presses his body against yours. A wave of heat washes over you as you feel his hard bulge resting over your lower tummy.

It throbs at the clothed contact, causing Naoya to fling his head back and let out a low groan.

You whimper at the sight. Hating the way he has this level of control over you. You feel like a butterfly caught in a sticky web that is Naoya Zenin. Your body betrays you and relaxes a little, enough for him to take notice.

He looks back down at you pointedly. “Good girl. That’s it, relax for me.” Naoya grunts as he pulls you close to him, hand trailing to the waistband of your panties and teases the skin there. He kisses your neck and bites gently at your skin. He wants you to moan for him. To give him what he wants. To give him control. Your body betrays you, wanting him to claim you.

You keen and rub your thighs together, hoping to ease the growing ache there. You run your hands hesitantly town his torso and blush at the feeling of his hard muscles straining through the fabric.

Naoya smirks as he hears your moans. “You like this?” He asks the question as though he doesn’t know the answer. The heat he feels from you makes his heart pound. He pulls back to face you, his eyes meeting yours and his breath hot on your skin.

I bite my lip and slowly nod up at him. “Please, Naoya…”

Naoya chuckles. Your begging is pleasing. Your desperation. It’s amusing how eager you are for him. “Please…” Naoya mocks, his tone amused. “Pretty please.” He leans in so you can feel his presence. His breath is hot and his fingers trail along your thighs.

You gasp as he inches closer to your aching core. Craving his touch even more.

He finally hovers over your clothed cunt, the fabric visibly growing wetter the longer he looks at it.

He leans in till his nose nudges your puffy clit inhaling deep into your scent. Growling deep in his throat, the sound vibrating in your chest.

You try to squirm away out of embarrassment but his hands hold your hips firm, keeping you in place.

Naoya’s eyes are lazily hooded and he grins as he watches you squirm and moan. Your thighs are like putty in his hands. He’s in control. He’s the hunter and you’re his delectable prey.

You half-heartedly try to pull away a little. Lust clouding your senses and rational thinking. “We shouldn’t do this” you say, trying to regain your composure to the best of your ability.

Naoya narrows his eyes at you. Your attempt at defiance only makes him smirk. “Shouldn’t do this?” He asks, feigning surprise. “Who says we shouldn’t? You’re my wife now. This is the only way to… seal the deal.”

You gulp at his words, and before you can process what’s happening he grips both of your thighs in his rough hands, spreads them as far as they could go, and rips your panties off of you in one fluid motion. Not wasting any time, he flattens his tongue, and licks a long stripe down from your rim to your clit and back down again.

Your head falls back into the pillows as you let out a startled moan. He smirks into your heat and quickens his pace. Spitting on it to dive down and lick it all up again. Not letting any of your juices go to waste.

“You taste so good, love. I don’t know how I’ve gone so long without a pussy like this.” He groans into your crotch, sending vibrations to your sensitive bundle of nerves.

Your hips begin to buck into his mouth involuntarily, your orgasm already approaching fast. Your wines getting more high pitched indicating to Naoya that you were close.

He lets a couple seconds come and go before he halts his movements, sitting up and licking his lips all the while a feline like grin spreads over his face.

Your eyebrows furrow in confusion and annoyance as your orgasm slowly fades away.

He chuckles at your expression, “Maybe next time I’ll cater to your needs, but tonight, this is strictly for my own pleasure.”

His eyes grow dark as he is quick to rip off the remainder of your dress, your breasts springing free with a single bounce.

His expression gets even hungrier if that’s possible, as he takes over your fully nude frame. You try to cover yourself up but he’s quick to pin your arms over your head with a single hand.

He chides you, “Tsk tsk. Don’t get shy on me now. You’re lucky it’s your first time and I’m feeling a little generous towards my lovely wife on our wedding night. I’ll go a little gentler on you than expected.”

His long thick fingers trail over your slit and his middle finger slowly starts to push into your entrance.

You hiss in pain, tears streaming down your face freely now and he’s quick to lick them up one by one, easing his finger in more in the process.

“Shh. Just breathe. You’ll be alright, love.”

You take a couple shaky breaths in your nose and out your mouth and he begins to pull his finger back out, only to plunge it back in.

You cry out, but the more he moves and curls his finger inside of you the more it starts to feel…good. Really good.

He then adds two more fingers and makes a scissoring motion inside of you, feeling achingly sweet.

It’s not long before your skin flushes a beautiful pink and you start getting light headed, a panting mess.

For what feels like just couple more seconds, he quickly withdraws his hand and laps at his digits. Cleaning your juices off of him and the tinge of blood along with it.

You’re beginning to get into a state where you are feeling loopy and delirious. Probably from the plethora of emotions you’ve been subjected to in such a short period of time.

Naoya brings you back to earth slightly by leaning in and placing his lips on yours, letting you taste him and yourself. You greedily suck at his tongue and drag your nails through his hair. Earning you a growl from the back of his throat.

“Stop doing that or I’ll finish before I set out to complete what I’ve started.” You let go and rest your hands on his chest briefly before fisting them into the sheets below you both instead.

“Good girl, now I warmed you up good for me, but it’s still going to sting a little… so be prepared for that,” he says, eyes never leaving yours.

He makes quick work at unbuttoning his slacks, and slides down his black boxer briefs until his erection springs free. Not bothering to take the rest of his clothes off.

You feel your eyes almost bulge out of your head and you subconsciously try to wiggle out of his grasp. He was TOO big.

His grip on you tightens as he smirks cockily at your reaction. “Don’t worry darling, we’ll make it fit.”

His cock was practically dripping with pre cum, and the head an angry read throbbing to be touched. He was thick and long, the girth alone just shy from the size of your forearm.

You try to take deep breaths and relax as he brings the tip of his cock to your folds, brushing it up and down to collect some of your slick that has accumulated there. Then, you feel him nudging at your entrance.

You bite your lip hard as he slowly eases his way into your tight walls, squeezing his shaft hard already.

“So fucking tight.” He hissed through his teeth and lays down on top of you to rest his elbows on either side of your head, forcing his cock the rest of the way in.

You taste a metallic tang in your mouth and realized you drew blood from biting your lip so hard. Naoya notices and drags his tongue over the mark, soothing the cut while remaining still as he now bottoms out inside you.

“You’re taking me so well, baby. I will make sure you’re rewarded for your good behavior.”

He then slowly pulls out about half way, before easing himself back inside of you.

Your eyes screw shut at the burning sensation of your walls stretching to accommodate his size, but then you feel a coil deep inside of you start to make its way to the surface.

It still stings, of course, but overriding that you begin to feel an overwhelming amount of pleasure coursing through your veins.

Naoya was keeping a close eye on your reactions this whole time, and as soon as he felt your walls fluttering around him and your hips beginning to buck against him, wanting more, he increases his pace.

He now pulls almost all the way out and slams back into you at a punishing pace. You scream at the sudden increase in pleasure and your hands fly to his hair again to claw and yank at his soft locks.

He groans lowly at your actions, and grabs your legs in one swift motion to put them over his shoulders. Arms now propped up to support the added weight with ease.

His jaw flexes in concentration not to cum prematurely, but just seeing the way your eyes are rolling into the back of your head and the drool leaving your lips, he knew he wasn’t going to last long.

This new angle was causing his swollen tip to kiss you cervix with each trust and massage your gummy walls in all the right places. You could feel yourself approaching your orgasm fast as well.

Naoya grabs your chin before you’re completely drunk off his cock, “ Look at me, love. I’m right here.” He grunts, patting your cheek rough enough to bring your attention back to him.

“Nao-ah~! I’m c-close.” You wine. You sound so desperate now. Just having tunnel vision for your impending release.

And that sets Naoya off. He’s slamming into you now at a brutal pace, not caring to make sure you could take it. He’s gripping your hips so hard now that it will for sure leave bruises in the morning.

“Oh baby, I’m close too. Come for me now. Please. I need to feel you milking me as I breed this pussy.”

You don’t catch the last part as that coil in your lower abdomen snaps and you feel the white hot pleasure of your orgasm crashing down at you with full force. You don’t know if your sobbing or blubbering or shrieking at the feeling. Maybe all three. You’ve never felt this kind of intense pleasure in your life.

Naoya isn’t that far behind, he soon reaches his own climax and sends ropes of warm gooey cum into your pussy, his pace stuttering but not stopping till he’s filling you up to the hilt in his cum.

After the pleasure subsides a bit, you are able to ground yourself a bit and take in your surroundings.

The room is lavish, dim candles flickering on the night stands between you. You are currently laying a king bed centered in a large room. Naoyas room. Clad with a dark velvet obsidian bedspread.

You look above you to see Naoya with his brows furrowed and breath fanning your face, still inside you coming down from his high as well. He then withdraws slowly from you and flops beside you on the large bed. Letting out a long sigh from his bruised lips.

You try to ignore the pooling feeling of his cum seeping out of you as curl away from him, hugging your own frame.

He doesn’t say a word, but lifts the covers out from underneath the both of you and drapes the sheets over you and himself. He then glances over to you briefly before sprawling out on his side of the bed, finding sleep soon. The bed you’ll be sharing from now on. You’re his wife now, no matter how much you didn’t want to be. He will make sure you come to know that.

#naoya zenin #naoya x reader #jjk naoya #naoya smut #naoya x you #x reader smut #jjk smut #tw: yandere #tw: dubcon #jujutsu kaisen

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blarshwritezz · 2 months

Text

Yandere Clone x Reader

Male Yan x gn reader

TW - general yandere behavior, torture, manipulation

Clone!Yan wasn't even supposed to exist. If only your boyfriend had never agreed to that stupid experiement.

It was sketchy, but paid hella good money, and the two of you were going through hard times. You guys really needed the cash. Especially since he was starting to consider proposing.

You told him it was too risky. You told him there were much better ways to make money. Safer ways. But he was blinded by all those zeros. 10 million sure does motivate someone. Even you were considering joining in too.

The day he left for it, you nearly cried. It's been a long time since you had to spend a night without him.

But finally, he came back a week later! Something was just...different. When he held you, he seemed stronger than usual. He seemed to blink less, and stare at you more. He was getting very jealous very easily. Sure he had some slight jealousy issues before he went off, but it wasn't ever this bad...

At first, you considered it side effects of whatever those awful people did, or that it was just because he missed you. But it only seemed to get worse...

You'd notice him eating less, exercising less, doing everything he usually did less...

He used the money from the experiment to buy the two of you a lovely little home somewhere peaceful. Nothing fancy, the two of you didn't need too much. Just a quaint little home in the suburbs.

In that home, you realized there was always this suspicious locked room. When you asked him about it, he just said, "Oh, that? Yeah, I think it's pretty weird too. I guess the previous owners just locked it and forgot to give us the key."

Lately, he's seemed pretty dismissive when you were worried.

But some nights, you swore you heard strange noises coming from that room. Things like scratching, muffled screams, faint groans, and even whispers of your name.

One night, you had enough. It was one of those rare nights where your boyfriend would get up, presumably to use the restroom or get a glass of water, and not return for over an hour.

Silently, you crept down the hall. The door to that room was slightly ajar, the light of the moon peaking out. You got just close to peak in and what you saw was not only horrifying but confusing as well.

There was your boyfriend, holding a bloody pen, standing above...himself? But a grotesque and mutilated version of himself.

You backed away in horror, only to crash into something behind you, making a loud noise. Nearly instantly, your "boyfriend" was at the door staring at you.

"Oh dear, my lovely [Y/N]...you weren't supposed to see this yet. It was going to be a surprise." The man spoke, a twisted grin on his face. "I guess now I have to tell you early."

He grabbed your arm and dragged you into the room. No matter how much you struggled, no matter how strong you were, he was more powerful. His bruising grip could have broken your bone, but he was being oh so careful with you.

"You see, my dearest, this man you called your boyfriend was just pathetic...he didn't have the balls to give you everything you deserve. But I can. I can be perfect for you. I'm him, but better in every way." He whispered, his cold breath against your neck as he held you tight and forced you to look at the man who could hardly be recognized as your sweet boyfriend.

"I won't ever age, or change, or ever go against you. Why, I was made for you..."

You were so confused, and he could tell. But your words were stuck in your throat. It was a good thing he could read you so well.

"Don't you remember? All those months ago, the experiment? The scientists who created me needed a dumb test monkey down on their luck, and your old boyfriend was perfect for that role. They took his skin, his blood, his hair, every bit of DNA they could to make me. The only thing missing was the transference of subconscious, and well, the only thing he could think of was you. So naturally, the only thing I can think of, is you~"

He wrapped his artificial arms around your waist tightly, making sure you didn't fall over. You felt like you would be sick...

"Unfortunately, I have to keep him alive. If he dies, I will too. But I recently decided to take out his eyes. That way he'll never get to see you again. Only I should have such an honor."

He started kissing your neck, making you feel even more disgusted. Right in front of you was your beloved boyfriend, the very one you hoped to spend your life with, turned to this shell of what he once was. You could hardly even see his skin tone beneath all the blood.

"Don't worry, just rest. You'll never have to see that failure again..." With those last few words, he covered your mouth with a cloth. You were already paralyzed in fear, too terrified to fight back this time.

He watched you for the rest of the night...and the next day...and the next night, and the next day, and the next night. Never once were you free from the thing that claimed to be your boyfriend.

Or rather, husband now. He was so glad you finally agreed! Not that you had much of a choice.

Yea, feeling this one! Different style than usual, woo!

#x reader #yandere x reader #yandere #blarsh writes #yandere clone #clone yandere #male yandere #yandere x you #yandere x darling #yandere x y/n #gender neutral reader #gn reader #yandere x gn reader

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