#poor guy is just trying to get through the day
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Can you do another part of yandere D-16, please đ I love the stories so much! Make us pleasure him so bad until he's wimpering, then tons of aftercare! And make us love him, not just a one-night stand đ
Yandere!D-16/Reader
tw: some minot changes in canon, slight yandere themes, valve fingering (MDNI), gn!reader, D-16 has a valve, sub!D-16, soft dom!reader, power dynamic cogged!reader/cogless!d-16. word count: ~1650 a/n: this can be considered as a second part to this. but I think (??) it also can be related to this. probably somewhere between the other two I wrote before. there are a few similar requests about d-16, but I want to do all of them differently as much as my creativity lets me. tagging since I was asked: @that-one-weeb-buts-its-the-main
The day D-16 met you felt like experiencing one of those vivid dreams he constantly had. His whole body was in pain; the loud ringing in the processor made his optics see the tiny stars circling around him in the air. Thank you, Pax, this is exactly how he wanted to spend his day! And totally not to ogle your sleek, shiny alt mode from his seat..!
Oh no, oh, Primus. You probably saw it all too, aren't you?
D-16 groaned in pain as he tried to sit up. He leaned his frame against the wall, holding onto the dented shoulder. Orion left him waiting here, all alone, as the blue-and-red mech tried to endlessly explain the situation they were in. The optimism this guy sometimes had...he can only pray in his mind that somehow you hadn't seen him failing on the race.
Maybe you had never noticed him, just passed through without paying attention. Yeah, this is more like true. After all, he's so gray in every sense of the word; among all the other miner bots, how is he any different? Too small in this world to be noticed.
The day was a disaster of any means. The cold looks he received from other racers as he waited for the repair, that awkward meeting with Sentinel, and of course, Darkwing just had to be there too. The moment Orion and him leave this area and go back to mines, there's no escape from their supervisor. How much more lucky does he get today again?
D-16 was nervous to the core of his spark. The thoughts of âWhy did I even follow him...especially on the day when Sentinel Prime arrived?â or âI hope they don't know it was meâ flooding his mind.
Another worst thing was, you hadn't even won the race! Chromia got before you just in mere seconds, and the possibility of him, being the reason behind this fail only made D-16 sigh in disappointment.Â
âYou and your friend put on quite a show today,â your voice suddenly came from beside him.
D-16 almost jumped up from his seat at the sight of you, and for a moment, his spark stopped beating. He barely had time to process what you told him before suddenly, the little miner rises to his feet and looks up at you with those big optics.
You saw that his mouth was open, but not a single word came out from his mouth. The poor thing was so scared, he had so many thoughts running through his head, but he couldn't pick a single one to voice it to you. You could only calm him down slightly by holding your hands in the air, trying to show that you didn't mean any malice.
âI'm sorry, I probably ruined your chance of winning this race,â his optics ran his eyes around as if he was trying to find the right words to say to you. âI'm a big fan, and I would never want-â
âI was going to say that you two actually made this race a little more interesting than usual,â you interrupted him. âRacing against the same bots isn't as interesting as it used to be. I admire that.â
You admire him. D-16 falls silent again, but even though he's stopped saying anything then, his optics perfectly captured all the thoughts in his processor. Love.
He never thought he'd ever meet a bot in a higher position than him who would treat him with a speck of kindness. That brief moment when the Sentinel shook his hand was the first such occasion. His idol, standing right next to him, shook his hand. Somebody pinch him harder!
Then there was you. Someone who had always held a special place in his spark. So small, incredibly fragile in your hands, but every time D-16 is near you, it beats so hard, as if your mere presence is enough to give him more strength.
He doesn't know what you see in him. He's an ordinary and insignificant miner, there are hundreds if not thousands like him. Even Primus didn't give him any bright colors.
He never had a chance to think about standards of beauty, certainly there was barely enough time to rest after hours of non-stop work. There were one time he could hear the conversation between the supervisors as they discussed the celebrities of Iacon. Blurr, Windblade, Rosanna, they all just glowed in relation to the dull, battered frames of his coworkers, definitely not the ideal of beauty that exists on Cybertron.
And yet, here you are, right next to him, and your hands are holding him so gently, so close to your chassis. He moans softly as you move your fingers inside him. Only two, no more, no matter how often he begged and whimpered for you to add another, you always denied him.
âJust relax and feel every touch from me,â you kiss the corner of his mouth softly.
Right. Calm down, D. You're already giving him too much time, begging you for more would be wrong, he doesn't want to seem pushy to you. If this continues, you'll just get disappointed in him and walk away.
âMgggh...!â D-16 instinctively arched his back. A loud, needy moan once again escapes his lips.
Sometimes he feels like, aside from your obvious charm, you can definitely read his mind, and your every slightest movement is calculated to make him forget his rank.
He's so wet, the lube coating your fingers and already managing to slowly flow down his inner thighs. For a second, you think about just flipping him over on his back and burying your head between his legs, making him scream and beg to give him a break from the endless round of overloads you're giving him.
But no, that would be too much for the first time, wouldn't it? You don't want to scare the poor, little miner away with your twisted thoughts. Not now, anyway.
In the time it takes you to give yourself to daydream, D-16 only gets more impatient. Moving his hips, he practically fucks himself with your fingers. His head is thrown back, and the servos cling tightly to your shoulders, squeezing gently, each time he lowers his own body down.
He feels so full, but that small, carnal desire for more can't help but pollute his mind. More, more, please give him more. Perhaps because of a sliver of fear that you're about to leave again, he'll be left alone and with nothing, and all he'll have are memories. He wants to get as much as he can while there's still a chance.
âCareful, or you'll hurt yourself,â you gently lay your other servo on his waist.
Tiny. You can't help but want to run your finger over every little bump on his body, every little rough edge...something about him fascinates you, that slight naivety and eagerness to make you proud. He's just hard to say no to.
You gently guide his movements. He's inexperienced, but the desire for something more, even though he hardly knows what he's doing, clouds his mind. You feel his tight, small valve squeezing your digits like a vise. His initially quiet, needy meows grow louder, and by the little blush on his cheeks, you realize he's embarrassed.
âCan I overload? Please,â he whimpers shyly, hiding his face in the curve of your neck. âAhhh...I'm so sorry, I can't take it anymore.â
How sweet. You've convinced him so many times that it's okay, he shouldn't have to keep hiding his pretty face every time you hold him like this. You don't care what position he takes, miner or not, you want him to feel like an equal. He deserves to be pleasured just as much. To love and be loved.
You nod, making a mental note to talk to him about it later. His habit of pleasing bots ranking above him just kills you.
D-16 wraps his arms around your neck, leaning slightly closer, as much as he can. He so wishes it was your spike instead of your fingers, stretching his valve with every thrust.
But he'll never admit it, he'd rather take whatever you offer him, because he loves you so much. Every touch from you, every glance in his direction, it's all so overwhelming.
âThank you, thank you, thank you-â he repeats over and over, his hips desperately meeting every thrust of your fingers inside him.
You feel him squeeze your digits again, his breathing halting for a moment before he exhales heavily and then nearly collapses on top of you.
D-16 leans his forehead against yours, closing his optics to slowly gather his thoughts. You barely move your fingers, still deep inside him, and even a slight twitch earns a whimper from him. Still very sensitive, you should definitely work on his stamina.
You gently take his chin, tilting his head up to give him a small kiss. He moans softly, but reciprocates the kiss.
D-16 has never seemed plain to you. Unusually strong despite his height and lack of t-cog, his body covered in many scratches after cycles of hard work. But now you are treating him with such care.
 He cherishes it so much. Sometimes he wonders if you have any idea how many times he's touched himself, with you in mind? How an embarrassingly lot of pictures of you he keeps plastered all over the wall? I guess that's a question for another day.
You may not have won the race, but you got more than that today.
#yandere x reader#yandere d-16 x reader#yandere megatron x reader#megatron x reader#d-16 x reader#transformers one x reader#transformers x reader#yandere transformers#yandere transformers one#tw yandere
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27 Asks! Thank you!!! :}} đ
@sillyandquest
I really want to show them off but I also really don't want people to steal/use them <:( I've had too much of that recently..
Also thank you!! :)))))
@ocinstit
I'm not sure what you're asking.. <:0 So far he's only seen her in her security guard uniform if that what you meant! No Vanny costume yet.
@platinumsun490
WWAAAAHGHG THANK YOU!!! :DDDDD
:DDD Thank you! I'm glad to hear you like how I do my asks! Also I hope you have a better time in the fandom than I did đ
I have not played it or seen a play through yet <:00
(My cookie run ocs)
Thank you <:) The doctors believe they've found what it is and now its a matter of trying to treat it..
Also AAAA THANK YOU SO MUCH!! :DDD What inspired me to make them was seeing other people making pirate cookie OCs and all the beautiful and creative designs everyone had. It made me want to make some of my own! :}}
As for how I designed them, I'm afraid its a process I cant really explain.. I just kind'a slapped things together and tweaked them until I was satisfied. Although I kept in mind that I wanted all of them to look different. So if I accidentally game 2 of them the same shaped shirt collars, I'd go back and change it on one of them :00 I think that con
Now, some information...
Well, the first thing that came to mind is Blue Beauty's lore change! :00 I changed it so she came from the same ocean that Star Coral cookie is from! So her redesign will be very space themed...đđ
And lastly, thank you so much! I hope tomorrow goes well for you too! :))
@captain-skyler1987
LSKJFKSFSKDFSK
@avaveevo
She's pretty much the same as she is in canon, minus a few dialogue charges :0
@lycaran
DARK CACAOOOOOOO đđđđđđ
@ozzytheplushiemonster (XDD Its okay, I was late too)
I present to you!,
A barrel of redvines! :))
@smithanonsworld
I wanna pet it so bad <:'((((
@misscherrypie
AWWW I LOVE THEM ALL SO MUCH đđđđđ
Man, for their own sakes the Autobots shouldn't study most of our history đ
@palettepainter
The main thing I thought of for my Metagross is that his four brains are slightly out of sync. And when he talks there are four voices talking at once in slightly different tones. Sometimes when he gets really anxious or frustrated the voices will say different things entirely :( the poor guys..
As for my Queenie, yes! She has major mom vibes :))
Thank you very much <:)) you guys' comments have been very comforting during this time đđđ
(Worm post)
XD Well I'm glad you liked the drawing! :))))
@thesweetdevilsamantha
:DDD Thank you!! :)))))
@londontragedies
WAAGG THANK TOOU SO MUCH!!! đđđđđđ
XD aww! What a cute draWHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU WERE ACCUSED OF BLOWING UP A PIRATE SHIP?
@dreamweave01
Thank you so much!! :DDDD And tbh I don't think I can just claim an art style.. If you want to to replicate my art style once or twice purely for the sake of a learning exercise, then who am I to stop you? That's what I did to learn too :0
@r4iri0ts
I've been hanging in there as best I can.. I'm still unwell and these past few days have been really bad so I'm trying to take it easy. Hoping that this will all blow over soonđ
Thank you <:))) I'm hoping this is over soon!
Pirates have become my favorite thing to dress as for Halloween. But I gotta say, your costume is much funnier XDD
@cat7890
I am scared and also confused đ
I'm hanging in there as best I can. Have had some bad health days recently and all the art theft, tracings and new redesign thefts have been the cherry on top. đ
Also thank you! :D I used to be so nervous about jumping from fandom to fandom, basically asking my followers for permission to do so. I'm so glad I'm out of that headspace and know fully understand that this is MY hobby blog, and I can draw from what ever fandom I want! XDD
Yeah đ„Č
#my response#the amazing digital circus#cookie run ocs#cookie run kingdom#my ocs#fnaf security breach#Pokémon scarlet and violet
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Make Them Blue (A.J. X FemReader) *Blurb*
Summary: Itâs No Nut November and, like every year, your smooth criminal and the rest of his goodfellas are having a friendly competition. Starting out strong aka avoiding you like the plague, he unfortunately falls when he comes home early on laundry day.
Warnings: 18+ (mdni), because thereâs sooo much of the smut. Fun from behind (giddy up), a washing machine, dom Man With The Plan, slight making fun of hat, and⊠A.J.âs big, fat dick.
Notes: Happy No Nut November all you, lovelies! đ€đ
- âAll right, gentlemenâŠÂ End of the month, ante upâŠÂ Letâs see that cashâŠâ
- Perched on the arm of his chair, you watch with mild interest as each took a turn. Poking fun, taking cheap jabs at one another. Retelling their own screw-up stories while they slowly make it around the circle. Setting varying stacks on the table along the wayâŠfanning them out for all to see who lost worse.
- So far the amounts haven't been too exorbitant, at least not in terms for these goodfellas. A cool thousand here, an easy two thereâŠeven two and a half. However, when it finally came to your smooth criminal's turn.
- âFiveâŠgrand? FIVE GRAND?!â Jake exclaims, smacking A.J firmly on the back. Shaking his head, laughing heartedly with the rest of the guys. âHow the mighty have fallen! Man, this got to be good!â
- âYeah, yeah,â he grumbles. Setting his hat on the table, you run a hand through those fluffy locks. âWellâŠâ While he accidentally reaches for your drink instead; making a slight, knowing face the second the taste washes over his tongue. ââŠI blame stupid laundry day.â
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- Groaning above; he pins, presses you against the washer. Inked arms caging you in on both sides. He mutters low, gruffly; dragging his cock between your soaked folds  agonizingly slow.  âWalkinâ around the apartment, wearinâ MY shirtâŠnothinâ else? FuckâŠkillinâ me, doll.â
- âSo-SorryâŠâ You barely manage to stammer out. Fingers scrabbling at the cool, smooth surface. Trying to center, but losing yourself more and more from the continuous jostling of the machine on your pleasure button. From his fat tip teasing, occasionally catching on the rim of your needy hole.  âNot my fault thatâŠthatâŠâ
- A loud, dry sob falls from your lips as he suddenly slams intoâŠstretches, spreads you onto his thick length. Almost feral growl rumbles in his chest when your gummy walls clench, grip in response. âBullshit, donât lie to me!â
- Wasting no time, not giving you a moment to adjust; he sets a fast pace. âYa knew exactly what you were doinââŠâ Pounding away roughly, brutally. Nearly bottoming out with each wild drive.  Undoubtedly bruising your poor hips and backside. âWorkinâ me up, so ya could get what ya wantâŠâ
- Big hands grasp the rounded sidesâŠhard. Hard enough for his knuckles to turn white; to create small, slight dents. âThatâs it, huh?â Giving himself the extra leverage needed to sink deeper; hit, bully your cervix. Punching the air, weak gasps from your lungs. âAdmit itâŠsay itâŠSAY IT!âÂ
- Tears fill, sting at the corners of your eyes. Coil in your stomach wound so tight, slick running down your thighs. âJay, s-swearâŠdidnât think youâd be home to-today!â Nails scratch frantically at the lid, a few chipping, breaking. Leaving knicks and marks of pearly pink in their wake. âJust wanted toâŠto get a few lo-â
- âYouâre gettinâ a few loads, all right,â he grunts. Speeding up further, putting his full weight behind those harsh thrusts. ââTil my balls are dryâŠâ You can feel him twitch, throb. ââTil I make sure we still win that moneyâŠâ Know that heâs about to pump you full, to the absolute brim. That itâs too late to stop him from taking the biggest gamble of your lives. âSomehowâŠâ
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- âSomehow,â Jake echoes and scoffs. Placing the smallest bundle on the pile, smirking at you two. âOkay, letâs hear this âsomehowââŠbefore I collect my winnings.â
- âGo on, angelâŠtell âem,â A.J. chuckles. Tapping your bottom affectionately, smiling up at you encouragingly. âExplain why youâve been nursinâ a pop all night.â
- Without hesitation, you fish something small out from between your cleavage.  âMight want to consider donating that jackpotâŠâ Happily setting the positive on the table, mischievous grin on your face. ââŠuncle.â
- Minute or two of silence falls over the group, followed byâŠÂ
- âYou know what, hereâŠâ Scooping up all the cash, Jake generously plops it into the upturned hat. âTake it, get the kid whatever they needâŠjust make sure it ainât one of those ugly ass things.â
Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @laylaplease, @princessswifie, @kenobiskywalker16, @loverforoldermen, @lotte08, @rafeswifeyy2, @exsamlockwood-kate, @sythethecarrot, @decaffeinatedunicorn, @fuckmyskywalker, @everydaydreamer, @jediavengers, @anisangeldust, @fredswrite, @xhunnybeeex, @vaderswifey, @anakinstwinklebunny
@littlelamy, @khoatic-with-no-energy, @raiwpenl, @malinadbbdh, @strokingforyou26, @xspacexwitchx, @em-21, @hearts4sammonroe, @shouldbetakencareof2, @loxbbg, @supersoldatbarnesstuff, @thesilentreaderrrrr, @theoriginalsinner28, @dumb-slut-things, @indigoblues1207, @ald6518, @julxstrawberry, @wh0sl0ttie, @tojis-missing-arm, @xoxo-hayden-fangurl-xoxo, @theladykassia, @doblasftcisco, @morguexmvp, @f4iryjinsworld, @nyxiesstuff, @heymamasblog, @justsomeimbicel, @prettywhenicry-777, @femme-is-typing, @maddis0n4, @ttdrake, @melmurkun, @brattyyybbg, @zara13ts, @bigaoibhe2024, @neocitywhore, @ter-luer, @ladyanaschmidt, @sarahflores07, Â @death934, @dovepevensie, @adorebambie, @pookiswookis, @icecoldhearts, @elliemariscal, @allievalll, @moonlxght-tyler, @1-racha, @tosterwwannie, @inejghafawifesblog, @carlgrimeswifeofficial, @hellemo666, @pitas-star, @sapphirefrog-blog, @carlgrimeseyepatch, @melonmochi, @coldcupcakedinosaur, @juli007, @skyguy8108, @frogtowne, @jennasco, @nothinspecial1000, @burnthispls666, @dovepevensie, @xxxxxxctu, @abobiwan-kenobi
#hayden christensen#hayden christensen x reader#hayden christensen fanfiction#hayden christensen smut#anakin skywalker#anakin#anakin skywalker x reader#anakin x reader#star wars anakin#sw anakin#anakin skywalker fanfiction#anakin fanfiction#anakin smut#star wars#star wars prequels#star wars fanfiction#star wars smut#aj takers#aj takers x reader#aj takers fanfiction#aj takers smut#takers#takers movie#takers smut#takers movie smut#no nut november#no nut november 2024#make them blue#make them blue 2024
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Can u do one where everyone starts befriending reader one by one and everyone whoâs all met her says the same thing. âSheâs embry a typeâ and so they start trying to hook them up but every time u show up Embry had just left or the opposite and when heâs around ur not but everyone still want u to meet but little do they know you and embry have been dating since before he phased he just didnât want u to know about him being a shifter so he never told u he wanted u out of that life. I feel like embry a type is someone so sweet cute clothes but a freaky one
cute cute okay hope you enjoy :) next part
which way - embry x reader
Two figures were basking in the afternoon day. The window was wide open, the soft breeze flow through. The conversation was light and a bit hushed.
You both lie on your bed as you lay on your side with your head resting your head up, your other hand was close to him.
He lay mirrored to your position. One elbow supported his upper body, his other hand was close to you.
You reach and wipe a small tear, flicking it elsewhere as you then ask with a smile, âAnd then what happened?â
Softly chuckling, he then speaks out, âWe both ended up falling.â He shakes his head at the memory.
âPoor baby. I wouldâve protected you had you been there.â you joke and say and earn a laugh from him.
Embry was finished telling the story how he went ice skating with his friends. One of his friends grabbed onto him while they were falling. You were entrapped in his storytelling. He did a good job of making you feel like you were in it.
âNext time, it will just be us.â Embry declares but reaches his close hand to cover yours. As he smooths out the skin of your hand, you tell reveal to him, âI would like to meet your friends.â
Embry blinks.
He started to get a bit antsy and you rub his arm, soothing him and sensing his nervousness.
âI donât think itâs really necessary, really.â Embry says.
âCome on. You tell me stories like that and I donât get to meet these guys?â you ask while a chuckle bubbles from your throat as your brain went back to imagining how the clumsy catastrophe he told you, would look like.
âYeah, butâŠâ Embry says and looks at you and shrug. You then decided to let the conversation flow into another direction.
Leaving his home, you forgot that you need some toothpaste. Looking through the different selection, you hear a woman voice.
âYour shoes are cute!â
You turn around and see a short haired woman staring back at you. A soft smile is on her face as she looks down then back at you.
âOh. Thanks.â You say politely with your own small smile.
You then look at her.
âYour shirt is cute.â you tell her back and she smiles and says, âThank you.â
âWhere did you get it from?â you ask as you now had the toothpaste you wanted in your hand. She tells you as you both walk toward the checkout line.
âI love that place.â you comment and she nods and smiles, âWe should go together.â
Your smile turns bigger.
âI would love that.â
Exchanging phone numbers, you two go on each otherâs way.
You two did follow with each otherâs plans. You both met up with each other that following weekend as Embry told you he had work.
You and Leah did mostly window shopping but it was nice to get to know each other better. The conversations flowed as you two bounced comedically off one another.
âI have a friend. Heâs single.â Leah tells you as you both bite into a snack.
This makes you chuckle lightly, âReally? Already trying to hook me up with someone?â
Leah shrugs with a smile.
Leah comes back and entered Sam and Emilyâs home. A smile on her face made people ask her, âWhere did you come from?â
âJust got back from a day out. I met this girl and Embry I swear sheâs your type to a T.â Leah says as she sees Embry sitting at the table.
âWhat do you mean my type?â Embry inquired.
âIâm telling you, you guys would look perfect together.â Leah says as she also haves a seat.
Embry shakes his head with a grin, âYou are something else.â
You saw him the following day. You both shared a grin and before you both could speak, you both laugh. Thatâs what you both loved about each other. No words could be said and one look could make each other laugh.
âWhat did you do yesterday?â Embry asks as he traced his finger in your hand. He held it out as he watched. You watched as well.
âWent shopping with a friend. She tried hooking me up with someone.â you say and you playfully roll your eyes.
He laughs, âMy friend tried to hook me up too.â You share a laugh with him.
âNobodyâs taking you away from me.â you say and lean forward to place a kiss on his nose.
âAnd nobodyâs taking you away from me.â Embry declares as his lips pressed to your lips.
You thought it would a small light peck but, the strength of his body weight fluidly pushed your body back onto his soft bed.
You smile into the kiss as your body jolted with excitement. Everytime you got excited, Embry got even more excited. His hand shook as your legs were in the air as he hastily pulled your pantries off. You sit up and heâs already naked and grabs your hand as he stares you. Youâre pumping him and watching him grow. A deep pit fills your stomach as hes grunting and unashamedly using his fingers to leave goosebumps on your skin. He sits up and pulls you close to him. Youâre both sitting in front of each other and you scoot in to place your legs on each side of his body. The excitement alone in his eyes created noises from you. Heâs sleeking himself along your wet moist center as you two grind and fall into intoxicated kisses. You loved how he held you close and pulled your hair back with one big hand, exposing your neck up to him. He always took advantage as he slammed you up and down on him. His hand was gripping all of you as you grip onto him back. You just loved spending time with him.
Sitting on the bench, you decided to just bring a comic book that Embry let you borrow to read as the day wasnât so bad with weather.
âWhere did you get that from?â
You hear a male voice and look over to see a set of eyes staring at you. You turn to see if maybe heâs talking to anybody else but you donât have long to question because the voice speaks again as they read the cover with clear diction but it was filled with humor that made you smile a bit.
âThereâs only one other person I know who reads that.â They say as they now sit on the bench.
âYou donât like it?â you ask since he gave a disbelief look while shaking his head.
âLetâs just say it caused a lot of arguments.â They say as they look off and you laugh.
He introduces himself and they ask what you think about it.
âI donât know itâs pretty cool. The plot makes sense so and itâs not too destructive. Hopefully no one dies.â you say as you held it up slightly.
âYou sound just like him.â They laugh as they point a bit.
You capture the finger with your hand and tell them itâs not funny.
âQuil, Iâm not interested in your little friend. You just reminded me to head home.â
You say but he jumps up and says, âOr..â he drags out with a smirk and you just stare at him, âWe could go to the comic store.â He says and you roll your eyes hard but you agree.
You enjoyed the banter between you two. It felt natural and easy and you both agreed to hang out again soon. You donât say goodbye because he begs one more time to let him introduce you to a friend of his.
Embry knocks on Quilâs door to remind him to know itâs his turn for patrol. Quil opens it and soon they fall into the conversation of what Quil did earlier.
âThe same exact comic book.â Quil says and Embry looks uninterested.
âDude, iâve never seen a girl with that. This girl has to be your soulmate. Iâm hooking you two up.â Quil continued and Embry waved him off.
âYouâre missing out.â Quil says, eyeing his friend that wouldnât take the bait.
âIâm not missing much. Trust me.â Embry says as he closed his eyes while he laughed.
Embry was supposed to grab a bite with Jacob. You were hungry and decided to drop by to treat your hunger pain.
Jacob was midway done with his food as you walked into the food place. You eyed the menu as he overheard you order.
When you were done, you then typed to Embry that he should meet you at the same place that youâre eating at.
Jacob received the news from Embry that he had a change of plans, Jacob didnât care. He ate already. He gets up and makes a comment to you as he throws his trash away.
âYou order like someone I know.â He just says and you take a look at him.
âIs that a bad thing or a good thing?â you ask with a nervous chuckle.
He takes a pause as he takes a moment, not long, to think, âItâs a him thing.â he decides.
âYour friend has good taste.â you say with unserious humor coating your tone.
He takes a look at you before saying, âYouâre his taste, actually.â
You roll your eyes, âYeah, I get that alot.â you say. You remember the hookups of people trying to get with you and their friend.
âIm so serious. I have to introduce you two, you both would hit it off.â he says.
âI donât even know you. So, I definitely donât want to get to know your friend.â you say and he introduces himself.
âJacob, I still donât want your friend.â you say and laugh.
âBe my friend. At least.â Jacob says. He thinks itâs easier to introduce you two.
âWe have nothing in common.â you comment.
Jacobâs eyes look around the restaurant.
âUh..Yeah, we do.â
âGood point.â you say.
Jacob walks back in the direction he came from when he sees a familiar face.
âI swear she ordered the exact same way.â Jacob says as he walked with Embry back to the place he left from.
âOh, yeah?â Embry asks, not really listening. He was looking forward to sitting down with you.
âShe was just here, I swear.â Jacob says as he looked around. Embry just clasps his shoulder, âBetter luck next time.â
Jacob walks away confused and you come out of the bathroom.
âHey, I ordered for both of us.â you say as you held him close to you as you greet him.
He placed a sweat heart kiss on your cheek as he smiled, âThanks.â
You both sit and eat as you two talk.
âI was supposed to meet a friend but Iâd rather hang with you.â Embry admits.
âWow.â you say laughing.
Wanting to get home before the rain, you kiss him a farewell. He watched you leave until he couldnât see your figure anymore.
With a reminder, you remember to return a package. Trying to open the big glass door, you try to hold tight of the big package as well.
The door soon opens with ease as a large hand graced the top of the door, holding it open.
âThank you.â you say.
âJeez what are you bringing back?â they ask and the bluntness makes you laugh.
âSomething that I bought off of impulse.â you simply say and they ask a question, âWhat?â
âA gaming console.â you say and sigh as you look at the item you barely touched. The money
They laugh, âYou remind me of someone I know.â
âReally? Well, I hope they were a good person.â you say as you wait in line.
âYeah, heâs a pretty good guy.â they say and then take a look at you and asks for your name and introduces themselves.
âAnyways, I can definitely see you two together.â he says.
âNot interested, Paul.â you say as you look about.
âYou donât even know what the guy look like.â Paul says with a smile.
âIâm sure heâs nothing Iâve seen before.â you smoothly replied with and place the package on the counter.
Paul pressed the buttons on the controller as Embry is focused on the tv.
âIâm telling you thereâs fish in the sea. Met a girl and sheâs right up your alley.â Paul says.
Embry moves his character on the screen and says, âIs that so?â he boredly asks.
âCome on, donât be like that. She was cute.â Paul says.
Embry sighs without interest, âYou think every girl is cute.â
âNot true.â Paul says and with that, defeats Embryâs character.
You pushed your cart through the store as you let your eyes look for the thing that you needed. Opening the large freezer door, you reach with your fingertips to capture the cold beverage but it was too high.
You go to stand on your tippy toes until a hand plucks it from the spot before your eyes.
You smile at them and reply with, âThanks.â
âNo problem. Ugh, not you too!â they say as they look at the label.
The humor in the exclaim makes you laugh, âWhat? You donât like this one?â you ask.
âItâs overrated.â They reply and you ask him, âAlright then. Whatâs your favoriteâŠ?â you ask and he fills in the blank.
âJared. And I likeâŠthis one.â he replies and picks up his claim.
You both walk out of the store as you held your bag in one hand. You press your drink to Jaredâs bottle and he says, âCheers.â You both take a sip.
âYou said you too. Whoâs the other person who likes this.â you ask.
âJust a friend of mineâŠYou both act similar, thatâs so funny.â he says.
âReally?â you say. He nods.
âI have to get you guys to meet someday.â he says. You pay this no mind.
You finally meet up with Embry as he takes the half drunken bottle from your fingers. He greets you with a kiss and then looks at the flavored beverage.
âCan I have the rest of this?â he asks you.
âOf course.â you reply and grab his hand as he downs the drink.
You watch the two figures figure out the game. The wind blew softly and coldly, but it still felt good. Sitting on the rock, you were waiting for Embry.
The ball flew over to you and luckily you were paying attention, you catch it.
âSorry! Nice catch!â The voice says. You smile and tell them thanks.
âCome on, play with me.â they say with a smile .
âI donât play with strangers.â you say. They tell you their name.
âSeth, youâre not beating me.â you tell him with a wicked smile as you get up to join his game.
âI did beat someone older than me before. You should meet him.â he says.
âHa. Ha.â you say dryly.
Seth laughs, âYeah, you two would get along great.â
The game was very friendly with a touch of competitiveness.
âDonât be a sore loser.â you say while smiling.
âOh, hush.â Seth says in a playful tone, before glancing at his phone.
âShoot, gotta go. You come here to this beach a lot?â he asks you. You nod.
âLater!â he says and jets off. His mother wants him home for dinner.
Embry brushed up the broken light bulb glass. He throws the debris and the rest of it into the trash can.
âIâll be back. Iâll just grab one from the hardware store.â you tell him.
âAlright.â he replies.
Your eyes search for them, but you donât see them. You then take your eyes to look for a cashier or a store worker.
A tall man is in your view and you decide to ask him since he was looking at something complicated.
âHi, do you know where they keep the lightbulbs? I donât see any workers around.â you say.
âTheyâre all chatting in the back.â he says with a chuckle and you join in, âTheyâre right over there.â he directs and you thank him.
You both check out at the same time.
âWhat is that for?â you ask him of his item he bought.
âItâs for a furnace.â he answers back.
âNice. And here Iâm replacing a broken light bulb.â you say and he chuckles.
âI remember when I had one.â he says as he remembers.
âOh, yeah? What happened?â you ask as you both join the counter.
He tells you the story of his friend who swung his long arms too hard while dancing and it shattered at his feet. You both share laughs.
âDo you have parties often?â you ask as you both walk out.
âTheyâre not parties, really. Just get togethers. You should come. I can introduce you to someone you would like.â he says.
âI could use some friends.â you say with a smile. You emphasize the word friends. You were interested in getting to know someone when Embry was the one who made you the most happiest person in world.
#embry call#embry call fluff#fluff#smut and fluff#wolf pack#y/n#twilight wolves#twilight wolfpack#quileute#la push#x y/n#y/n fanfic#fanfiction#romance fanfic#embry call x reader#embry call imagine#imagine
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Do you think the GF fandom tends to wobbify Stan a lot more than Ford?
Oh absolutely. And part of it is standard fandom projection, you know? Which is fine, it's whatever. People do it to Ford a lot, too. No biggie. People do it because they see themselves in Stan and that's fine, it just gets in the way of more serious thematic discussion, though back in the day it was a Lot worse people were a lot less chill about the whole thing to the point where if you so much as dared to point out that Stan is a criminal without the qualifiers that he's a criminal because he had no familial support as he was maturing into an adult and was homeless so he kind of had to in order to get by, you'd get fucking demolished.
And like, it's because a lot of people relate to having shitty parents and being told by teachers that they're not smart enough and being homeless or at least really fucking poor. Like, it's just kind of something that happens with fandom, you know? And it's fine, mostly, fandom is a sandbox and a lot of these people are projecting so they can work through real world shit that's happening in their lives (you guys have no idea how many unposted "Ford has some kind of mystery chronic illness that's just absolutely wreaking havoc on his daily life" fics I wrote after I got diagnosed). And it's not like there's zero justification for it, Stan's a very sympathetic character in the show canonically, despite his status as a wanted criminal (presumably internationally), and a bit of a softie at times.
The problem is when the fanon woobification is used in place of actual textual evidence when people try to have serious discussions about the canon material and not your fanfic where Stan is just. Just real sad about his brother, why won't he thank him? He's sad!
This chart from @itsabouttimex2 explains the cycle very succinctly.
Like, I'd argue that Stan isn't even the most woobified character in Gravity Falls by volume (that honor goes to Fiddleford to be honest) but he's the character whose woobification is the most visible and has the most capacity to grind any serious discussion about anything even slightly negative that happened to Stan or, god forbid, was caused by Stan to a halt. Again, this problem has gotten better over the years, despite the fandom's recent "relapse" for lack of a better term, but (and I say this knowing exactly who I was in 2017) sometimes in order to talk about something you like in a fan context, you have to take a step back and remind yourself of who these characters actually are and what the text of a work is actually trying to say. Like, "death of the author" as a way to interpret a work is incredibly popular in fandom at large, not just in Gravity Falls, and it has its merits, but I feel like it's gone from "the meaning of the text is not derived from the author's intention, but the reader's interpretation" to "the meaning of the text is not derived from the text, but the reader"
"Sometimes the curtains are just blue" has already been used to justify completely abandoning the idea of critically analyzing a work (to the point where many reading this will see the word "critical" and assume that I'm talking about literally criticizing something and not analyzing a work to determine its meaning, its purpose, and effectiveness at conveying those two things) and some people will take that a step further and go "Sometimes the curtains are red, because red is better than blue. Sometimes morally."
I didn't expect to go off to yes or no question like that, it just kind of happened. I don't know, I prefer discussions about this show where I don't have to step over a dozen people who think I'm talking about the version of Stanley Pines that lives in their head and always Responds Correctly to whatever personal issue they might have.
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9-1-1 7x04 | "Buck, Bothered and Bewildered"
#911#911edit#911 abc#911 on abc#911 on fox#911 fox#911 spoilers#buddie#buddieedit#evan buckley#eddie diaz#ravi panikkar#oliver stark#ryan guzman#tuserkaz#mystuff#poor guy is just trying to get through the day#and he has to deal with these 2 and their drama#1k#5k
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my hot take about descendants is that NONE of the core four were ready for a relationship until maybe like, the third movie (rant in tags)
#they were still adjusting to living life without struggling to survive#a girl should not be jumping into a relationship the same week she just tried her first piece of non-rotten food lol#thats not to say I don't like the canon ships#but mal married literally the FIRST man she met in auradon. at 18.#and even as far as in descendants 2 we see them still struggling to adjust in different ways (mainly mal)#in d3 they seem to have fully assimilated into life in Auradon (as much as a VK can anyway)#so it makes sense for them to THEN seek out relationships if that's what they want.#but disney ofc wanted to act like romantic love just automatically fixes a person's problems ig?? as if a relationship wouldn't just be#added stress given the position the VKs were in in d1#not to mention dating just like. wasnt a thing on the isle (mal even says this)#and I get that the kids are craving to be loved because their parents didn't gaf about them. But I wish the first movie focused more on the#finding that love in each other than romantically with outside people. a sort of âthey had love in them all alongâ moment.#and then this fandom loves to argue about whether Jarlos/Janelos was 'rushed'. at least Carlos (and Jay +lonnie) waited a few months before#throwing themselves into the dating scene. Poor evie had her heart broken within like 3 days of being in Auradon. no wonder she was willing#to help steal the wand lol.#Anyway to wrap up this rant I didn't even mean to go on#I just think that kids who have spent the first 14-16 years of their lives fighting to survive and being put through continuous trauma on a#daily basis don't need dating right away. they need THERAPY.#if anyone here has seen stranger things its kinda an El and Mike situation were its like. the girl grew up in a lab and fell for the first#boy in regular society who was kinda nice to her lol. thats how I view Mal and Ben#same with doug and evie. he was nicer than chad but he still fell for her for her looks and she still fell for him because he was the first#guy in auradon to be genuinely interested in her. also evie had a whole âI dont need a princeâ arc and ended up with a man anyway?#my problem with janelos was always that Carlos never quite worked out his mommy issues or his anxiety. I feel like he'd be afraid of hurtin#her even though that boy wouldn't hurt a fly. and we see Jane get pretty stressed out herself- have you ever been in a relationship where#both of you have anxiety? cause it either goes really well (you help keep each other calm) or REALLY terribly (you make each other spiral)#I actually really liked Lonnie and Jay (though I feel like it would've had a bigger payoff if she was in d3. not sure why she wasn't but I#wont dunk on that because it couldve been smth to do with her actress). I think Lonnie is someone who can 'handle' Jay well and match his#energy. And I like the idea of Jay finding someone he's loyal to after being commitment-phobic for 1 1/2 movies and the whole first book lo#and ofc I have to throw this in here: any auradon kid the VKs get with is never going to grasp even half of what they went through.#this doesnt mean they can't try to understand and be empathetic. but it will always cast a shadow on VK/AK relationships.
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I need life to slow the fuck down bc my skin is starting to hurt real bad from all this picking :/
#marquilla#i need a healthy coping mechanism but nothing hits like self destruction dgdgdghddg#my brain is hard wired from genetics to pick at my skin and hair on both sides đ i was doomed from the start#i do try to not do it btw im not like oh well guess theres no options! like no i know but i need a foolproof one#or for life to fucking chill#every four years i become an over plucked chicken for 10 months and think ab pulling my head hair out bc yall are driving me up the wall#i got into a fight in 2016 ab the election and i nearly started punching... like i had to hit the bed instead bc im like god i cant hurt#them but GOD DO I FEEL THE NEED TO TO GET YOU TO GET IT#i think i like plucked DEEP that day just taking my anger and frustration out bc good lord#like how can you be like hmm well im gonna vote for this guy bc fuck poor people. i work retail and so i see people abusing ebt a lot#therefore it makes me mad and i wanna stop it.#like you only notice the 'fraud' and misuse/bad choices people make bc thats negative in your mind so#your brain holds onto it. youre not noticing the poor people who are just minding their business using ebt and feeding their family#ive gotten through to them at least a little ab how fraud is less than 1% and that the fraud is usually selling stamps for cash for diapers#and shit and that it's people sharing cards bc they need to pool their funds to feed their families#that the people you see stealing or buying expensive ass meats on ebt are not the majority and if they wanna waste their limited funds each#month like that then thats a them problem. mind your business.#anyway im fucking like deteriorating sggdgdggd
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You could post cute pics and get validation from strangers on the internet while you wait.
Fr tho I hope you're doing okay â€ïž
What do you think Iâve been doing đđ
#havenât posted in literal ages#and then I post multiple things in the past day or two l o l#your girl wants attention and validation all the damn time!!!#was trying to reblog old content but yall have seen that too much and donât have the same reaction#I want your mouth to drop and you canât help but drool from looking at me#thatâs my goal đ#but seriously Iâve been looking at a lot of my rosie content and deciding whatâs good enough to post#looking for someone to go through all my content and tell me what are the true gems#so I can post those#itâs actually insane how much content I have#and most of it has never been seen before lol#have this school girl post Iâm working on đ#just working on the cute tags hehe#if you guys are ever bored and looking for something to do#give me attention#and praise#and worship me#pretty please đ„șđ„șđ„șđ„șđ„ș#on a real note I should be fine? I hope.#every day is different⊠today Iâm doing my ehhh alright?#but I canât complain cause some days I feel like death#Iâm also lucky I have weed to use as my crutch#Iâm just in between jobs right now cause I was trying to get into this dumb program#but now that Iâm on a waitlist Iâm gonna have to find some sort of income#I saved up some from my last job but that is slowly dwindling away#maybe Iâll do some sort of driving/delivery job#Iâm just so sick of working when I know it doesnât make a difference#Iâm going to be poor and broke the rest of my life so who cares#welp getting sad and donât wanna do thaaaaaatâŠ.. also running out of space lol. so gonna smoke the little weed I have left and ignore ignore#ask
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Hashira Training: Wifely Duties
Synopsis: Your husband is working hard to train the members of the Demon Slayer corps in preparation for the upcoming battle with Muzan. However, they seem a bit stressed. You decide to help in other ways, like a good wife. Pairings: [SEPARATE] Uzui x Reader, Giyu x Reader, Obanai x Reader, Sanemi x Reader, Rengoku x Reader, Gyomei x Reader
Content: MDNI, fem! reader, oral male & female receiving, dacryphilia (Uzui), bath sex (Uzui), bondage (Obanai), pregnancy (Himejima), unprotected sex, rough sex (Sanemi), overstimulation, breeding (Rengoku), I hope I didnât forget anything else but sorry if I did.
Word count: 7.2K (bruh)
A/N: Just finished the Hashira Training Arc. No anime episode has ever stressed me more than that finale...Added Rengoku as a hypothetical what-if since he's my favorite hashira. Muichiro excluded since he's a little baby but I still love him.
Uzui Tengen: Former Sound Hashira
âMove your asses! If you donât finish the last rep, no dinner for you tonight!â
Your husbandâs loud voice carries a great distance, no surprise coming from the former sound hashira. This allows you to find him and your other co-wives fairly easily as you make your way up the mountain side where Tengenâs endurance camp had been set up.
Youâre met with a somewhatâŠcomedic(?) sight..of your flashy husband dressed in a casual kimono swinging a wooden sword at the fallen demon slayers who were clearly on the verge of passing out from exhaustion. You couldnât help but feel pity for the poor kids.
âIf you donât get it together youâll never survive what the other hashira have in store,â Tengen huffed, seemingly more annoyed than angry.
âNow now, Tengen-sama, donât be so hard on the kids,â you sigh, setting down the extra pot you had been tasked with bringing to help prepare dinner. âYouâll end up giving them all nightmares.â
The way Tengenâs face lights up when he sees you makes your heart flutter. "Y/n! I was wondering where you went off to."
"I asked her to go back home to grab another stew pot," Makio chimed in, all while throwing a subtle glare towards a Suma. "Since someone forgot to do what they were told and bring it like asked.
Suma proceeds to hide behind you and Hinatsuru as you help her with the rice for the onigiri. "Uwahh! Y/n-san! Hinatsuru-san! Makio-san is targeting me again!"
"Please, don't start," You sigh.
"We all need to do our part," Hinatsuru said, like the mature woman of the group she was. "Let's do our best with dinner so that we aren't inconveniencing Tengen-sama."
With four sets of hands, you guys get dinner done by sundown, the smell of fresh onigiri and beef stew wafting through the air. However, the poor demon slayers were so worn out from your husband's brutal training, you don't think any of them would have the energy to even think about eating. Still, Tengen snaps at them to do so as to not let you all's hard work go to waste.
"Tengen-sama, please try to relax a little," you gently say, tugging on the end of his kimono. You offer him a bowl you had prepared. "It's not good to get so worked up."
Although grateful, Tengen doesn't say anything as he takes the food you offered, sipping the broth in silence.
That night, you soak in the Uzui Manner's private onsen, the stress of the day clouding your thoughts. Youâre worried. You know the final battle against Muzan will inevitably happen, but youâre terrified. For your friends. For your family. What if Tengen has to come out of retirement to help? What if you and your co-wives are caught in the middle like in the Red Light District?
Youâre so in your head that you donât even hear the door open and someone enter. âWhat a surprise. I thought you were in bed by now.â
Tengenâs voice startles you and youâre quick to sink into the water to cover yourself. Your husbandâs laughter fills your ears. âWhat are you being shy for?â Clad in nothing but a towel, you gawk at your husbandâs physique. Despite officially retiring from the Demon Slayer Corps, his consistent training kept him in shape.
âYou just surprised meâŠthatâs allâŠâ
Tengen settles behind you in the bath, the water sloshing as he enters and pulls you into his lap. You relax against his chest. âYou wanna tell me what you were thinking about?â He asks, tracing his hand down your side making you shiver involuntarily.
âN-noâŠ.its nothing. But you seemed stressed earlier, Tengen-sama. Is there anything I can do for you.â
Tengen sighs, leaning back against the edge of the bath, arms spread and muscles tense. âItâs nothing, love, donât worry.â
You frown. You then turn so that youâre straddling Tengenâs lap, the water splashing with your movement. Tengen raises a brow in confusion, but doesnât question your actions. âP-please allow me to help you, Tengen-sama.â
Tengen chuckles, cupping your cheek gently. âYou already do more than enough for me, and for that Iâm very grateful.â The kiss he pressed against your lips starts off soft, only to grow more intense and desperate. You squirm, letting out a small whimper.
Feeling you rock against him, Tengen groans, his cock beginning to harden. He scoops you up underneath your thighs with one hand, not breaking your kiss. As he lays you down on the onsen deck, you shiver at the cold feeling of the stone. Tengen trails gentle kisses down your neck while his fingers grace your clit, stimulating the sensitive nerves.
âW-wait. W-wait,â you suddenly protest. Tengen pulls back, worried he hurt you. âI-I want to be of use to you, Tengen-sama. Please let me please you.â
Tengen wears a rather perplexed expression before chuckling. He sits back on the end of the bath. âOk then, please me.â
You drop to your knees before your husband, taking his cock gently into your hands. Itâs already stiff with arousal, pre pearling at the fat tip. Your finger traces the thick vein running up the side of Tengenâs length, making him twitch.
Tengen groaned as your warm mouth enveloped him, his head leaning back in satisfaction as his fingers gripped your hair tightly. You immediately began to suck, feeling your jaw strain as he began to swell in size. Tears prickled in your eyes, and you rest your hands on Tengenâs thighs to steady yourself.
"Mhmm fuck," Tengen moaned deeply. His low raspy voice only turned you on more. He gripped Your hair harsher and pulled you closer; you nearly gag. "Fuck. Don't stop. Use your hand. Fuck. There you go.â
You eagerly obliged, sucking him harder and taking more of him, or as much as you could cause he was just so damn big. Tears trickle down your cheeks, and it takes all Tengenâs willpower to not buck into your mouth. The sight of you looking at him so innocently, crying as you try to take his size almost has him coming down your throat. You can tell heâs close to his release from the way he tenses, muscles tightening, yet he quickly pulled you away.
âT-Tengen-sama?â You question, out of breath. Before you can react, Tengen has you pulled into his lap and your knees pressed to your chest with his arms wrapped under your legs in a rather embarrassing position that has your cunt exposed. In a single thrust, the tip of his cock kisses your cervix and youâre crying out.
Tengen rests his head against your back, breathing heavily. âYouâre so good to me.â He groans at the feeling of your warm cunt wrapping snuggly around him. âI love you so much.â Tengenâs grip tightens, pulling your legs back further as his hips buck up, stretching you further. The slightly uncomfortable position makes you whimper.
âBut tonight, Iâm going to fuck you like I donât.â
Iguro Obanai: Serpent Hashira
You know how ruthless and impatient your husband can be, so you pity the poor slayers who were stuck in the vicious vice-like hold Obanaiâs training has. Most of them had been there for at least a week, if not more, unable to perform at a level that satisfied your husband. So, youâve taken on somewhat of a nurse role, providing first aid to the many bruises, welts and rope burns the slayers received as part of the training. Your hope was that your treatment would lessen the pain of entering the baths.
âThere! All done,â you say, closing up your first aid kit having just treated the cut on one memberâs face. âNext time, remember to guard your vital spots. Youâre lucky it was only training. A demon wouldnât be so forgiving.â
âR-right! T-thank you Mrs. Iguro!â
You wave the slayer off as you finish packing your things up. Though you try to ignore it, you can still hear the whispering about your husband.
âHow did such a sweet woman end up with a man like the serpent hashira?â
âYeah the only real demon here is himâŠâ
You grit your teeth in annoyance, prepared to say something when the sliding doors slam open. The atmosphere tenses as your husband walks in, a very angry and intense aura surrounding him.
âIf you have time for idle chatter then you must not have worked hard enough,â Obanai scowled, Kaburamaru hissing around his neck. The slayers all quickly scramble to their feet and ran to grab their swords and avoid Obanaiâs wrath.
You tug on his haori, stopping him from moving. âDear, be nice.â
The scowl on his face somewhat softens only to immediately return when a new person announces their presence: Kamado Tanjiro.
âI look forward to training under you,â Tanjiro says, as cheerful as ever. Either he didnât see your husbandâs murderous look or he didnât care. âAh! Hello to you too Mrs. Y/n!â
You return the bright smile with one of your own. âItâs great to see that youâve recovered well, Kamado-kun.â
âOĂ! Donât be so casual with my wife like youâre friends!â Obanai snapped. âAnd the rest of you stop gawking at her!â
You can only sigh. Of course, anything that you said practically went in one ear and out the other, and Obanai was so rough with the trainees you were surprised he didnât break anything. Poor Tanjiro in particular seemed to get the brunt of your husbandâs annoyance, leaving him with thankfully only some bruising since the training was conducted with practice swords instead of real blades. However, Obanai wouldnât let treat anyoneâs wounds this time around. The moment he ordered for them to scram somewhere, he dragged you out the dojo and back to the main house.
His grip on your wrist was tight, and you knew better than to protest when he was in his foul moods. But the fact that he hadnât uttered a single word was making you somewhat anxious for what was to come. Was he somehow pissed off at you too?
Once you make it to your shared room and Kaburamaru slithers off somewhere, Obanai closes the sliding door. Itâs just the two of you, the tension in the air is suffocating.
âU-umâŠO-ObanaiâŠa-are you mad?â you try to break the silence only to receive the most piercing glare from your husbandâs dual colored eyes, making you hush up instantly.
âMad?â Obanai scoffs. âNothing you do can make me mad at you. ButâŠâ His eyes trained to yours as he backs you into your shared futon. âI hate the way those idiots gawk and act too friendly with you. Youâre my wife. Youâre mine and mine alone.â
Obanai grabs your chin roughly, forcing you to look at him. His intense gaze while nerve racking is so insanely attractive that youâre whimpering quietly, trying to rub your thighs together in desperate need. Obanai picks up on this and lets out a low chuckle.
âI guess I have to remind you in other ways that you belong to me. Clothes. Off.â
You quickly start taking your kimono off, untying the Obi sash. Clearly you donât move fast enough for your husbandâs liking as he flips you on to your back and starts pulling the fabric off of you.
âW-wait, O-Obanai!â Your cheeks flush in embarrassment. Obanai ignores your pleas, and proceeds to use your obi to intricately tie up your l your wrists behind your back, pinning your arms almost uncomfortably together.
âDonât you look pretty,â Obanai hums in amusement, pleased with the way the bindings were. He grabs your wrists and forces you to bend over, ass in the air. Obanai nudges your legs up to have a clear view of your dripping cunt, to which he inserts a finger, then two. You helplessly squirm against the restraints, keening against his touch.
âYouâre so greedy,â Obanai scoffs. âYouâre just sucking my fingers in.â
âPlease, Obanai,â you beg. âI need you inside me.â
âHmâŠsince you asked so nicely.â
You hear him shuffle around, presumably to remove his clothes. You then feel the heat of his chest as he leans over you. Although he was somewhat rough with the restraints, Obanai is tender when he kisses your shoulder blade.
With one hand on you waist and the other on your wrists, Obanai inches his cock into you, groaning at how tight you feel around him. He bottoms out easily and you moan at the uncomfortable arch the position puts you in.
âM-moveâŠp-pleaseâŠâ you whimper.
Obanai chuckles. He pulls out just to the tip before thrusting back in, setting a rough yet steady pace. His cock reaches so deep thanks to the position he has you in, making you gasp each time it kisses your cervix.
âFuckâŠyou feel so goodâŠâ Obanai groans. Usually heâs not one to be overly vocal during sex, but the heat of your cunt was just so addicting and he thought he would lose his mind.
âP-pleaseâŠâ you stumble over your words as he pounds into you. âC-can I hold you?â
Obanai falters briefly, his chest feeling strangely full. How do you always find a way to be so sweet to him? You were going to be the death of him.
Nonetheless, he unties the knot to release your wrists. He flips you over, realigning his throbbing cock at your entrance. You immediately wrap your arms around his neck and legs around his waist to pull him close. Both of you let out shaky moans as he thrusts back in. You gently kiss at the scars on his mouth, and he shivers in response, taking one of your hands to intertwine with his.
âI love you,â he mutters so quietly you almost donât catch it. You nuzzle into his touch.
âI love you too.â
Shinazugawa Sanemi: Wind Hashira
Youâre currently pissed at your husband and ignoring him. You ignoring him has him even more pissed off, so the Shinazugawa mansion is tense and a literal war zone. The impending war against Muzan is inevitable. While you understand that, you see no reason why your husband has to be such a dick to everyone. Especially to his own younger brother.
âThat damn bastard, who does he think he is, going off the rails like that,â you angrily mutter under your breath as you threat Genyaâs injuries. He winced at the antiseptic on his cut. You frown. âSorry sweetheartâŠâ
âItâs okâŠY/n-neeâŠâ Genya says half heartedly. The recent fight between the Shinazugawa brothers ended up escalating to a dangerous point. If it werenât for Tanjiroâs interference, there probably wouldâve been more injuries. And having known the Shinazugawa brothers since childhood, you were fiercely protective of Genya. So seeing Sanemi attack his brother the way he did without any hesitation was literally your last straw.
âIâm sorryâŠâ Genya said.
âHm? For what?â
âFor causing trouble in you and nii-sanâs marriageâŠâ the younger boy avoids looking you in the eye. âif only I could use breathing techniques and werenât so weakâŠthen maybe heâd acknowledge me.â
âAwe, Gen, donât say that,â you say, pulling the younger boy into a tight hug against your chest. âYour actions have nothing to do with my marriage. Your brother is just being a pain in the ass but that doesnât mean I still donât love him. I know he has a shitty way of showing it, but he does care. Iâm sorry that youâve somehow gotten in the middle of our marital problems. I promise things will get better. For all of us.â
You finish tending to his injuries before placing a tender kiss on his forehead, like you used to do when you were kids. Still, Genyaâs face explodes red at your babying, making you laugh as you take your exit. As you leave, youâre surprised to see your husband standing outside the door with his arms crossed. Your face sours.
âThe fuck you want?â You snap.
âStill got a fuckin attitude?â He retorts.
âSays you.â You walk off in a huff. Sanemi sighs and runs after you.
âY/n, wait. Please talk to me.â
âAbout what?â You say bitterly. âI donât got shit to say to you after the stunt you pulled. I donât want to hear anything from you unless itâs an apology.â
âFuck, fine Iâm sorry! Now will you listen to me?!â Sanemi desperately said, grabbing a hold of your wrist to stop you. Your eyes narrow, not trusting his words. âLook. I know I was wrong but I canât take anymore of you ignoring me and doting all over Genya.â
You snatch your hand away, scowling. âSo now youâre jealous of your kid brother? I used to change his goddamn diapers.â
âThatâs notâŠugh fuck. Come with me!â Once more Sanemi grabs your arm, dragging you through the manner against your protests. He brings you to your shared room, which for the past few weeks youâve stopped sleeping in out of spite. Sanemi closes the door, locking it shut.
âNow what? You got me alone.â You scoff.
âUgh just shut up!â Sanemi yells, grabbing your chin and kissing you frantically, almost desperately. Your response is muffled and your knees immediately go weak as he forces his tongue in your mouth to deepen the kiss. Youâre gasping for air by the time Sanemi pulls away. He buries his head into your shoulder, inhaling your scent that heâs missed so much.
âIâm sorryâŠdammitâŠâ Sanemiâs voice cracks slightly. âI donât want to lose you too. I couldnât bear losing another person so important to meâŠso please, stop being mad at meâŠIâm sorry.â
âNemiâŠâ You cup his cheek before pinching it harshly making him hiss. âYou dumbass. Thatâs what this was all about?I didnât realize you were this goddamn emotionally constipated.â You sigh, Sanemi now glaring at you while rubbing his cheek. You gently kiss the tip of his nose. âIâm not going anywhere any time soon, okay? I promise.â
Sanemi exhales, almost like a sigh of relief. âOkay.â He kisses you again, this time gentler as if heâs afraid youâll leave. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him deeper. âIâve missed you.â Sanemi muttered. His hands begin to wander, trailing up the side of your waist under your uniform.
âDid you miss me, or my body?â You tease.
âMhm? Both.â
âYouâre such a tease.â
âYet you love me anyway.â
Sanemi kisses you again with more force, all while guiding you down to your shared futon. His hands are rough, groping your breasts, pinching your nipples that stiffen at his touch. You roll your hips upward to press against the growing bulge in his pants. Sanemi groans, biting your lip.
âYou like testinâ my patience, donât you?â Sanemi huffs.
âThat depends,â you taunt, beginning to unbutton your uniform top. Sanemi swallows thickly, his Adamâs apple bobbing. âYou gonna do something about it?â
Sanemi grit his teeth. He grabbed you by the waist, flipping you on your backside, the rest of your clothes torn off from his own impatience. âIt looks like Iâll just have to fuck the attitude out of you.â
Your husband makes do of his promise, fucking you senseless into the sheets, weeks of built up tension between the two of you finally being released. Heâs aggressive and rough, gripping at your hips so tightly theyâd probably bruise. Your neck is littered with bite marks, while Sanemiâs already scared torso has fresh red scratches from the way you grabbed at him. Not that he minded.
âF-fuck,â Sanemi groaned, relishing the way you clenched around his cock. His hips snapped against yours, making you gasp and shudder. âFuck I missed this. I missed you. Donât ever fucking ignore me again.â
âN-Nemi, please, Iâm close,â you whimper.
Sanemi grins. He puts your legs over his shoulder, pressing down to pin your thighs back in a mating press. The position, though uncomfortable, allows for his cock to reach even deeper. You feel so deliciously full, Tears prickling in your eyes. you cover your mouth trying to hide the sultry moans leaving your lips.
âNope, I need to hear you,â Sanemi pants, pulling your hair. Your cries are music to his ears. âI need everyone to know how good I fuck my beautiful wife.â
He uses the pad of his thumb to wipe away your stray tears before kissing you tenderly. His pace faltered just a bit, making his thrusts more sloppy as his low grunts turned into airy moans. "Ah fuck I'm gonna come."
Sanemi gave one last deep thrust that had you gasping for air. You shivered feeling yourself be filled while your own orgasm hit. After he was sure he finished, Sanemi pulled out and sat back on his heels. He stared down you with a satisfied look on his face as some of his seed leaked from your swollen sex.
He scooped up some that spilled on to the bed and shoved it back into you. You whimpered from the overstimulation. "N-no more."
"Don't tell me what to do," Sanemi huffed. He aligned his cock at your entrance again and sank in with ease. He lets out a satisfied sigh and pulls you to his chest. "There. Now it'll stay in."
Tomioka Giyu: Water Hashira
âTomioka-San? Hello! Tomioka-San? Excuse me? Are you there? Sorry to bother you. Itâs Kamado Tanjiro!â
Itâs the third day in a row the young boy has come by. At this point, you find it quite comical but you can tell your husband is losing his patience.
âJust entertain him, dear,â you say, folding up the laundry. âYou know heâs not going to stop until you answer.â
Giyu doesnât say anything before picking up his katana and leaving the room. You sigh. He had been so distant since the hashira training started. For some reason, he opted not to participate, and you could only assume thatâs why Tanjiroâs been by every day to convince him otherwise. Nothing you could say would really change his mind either. The last few nights Giyu had been staying out later, only returning when he knew youâd fallen asleep and leaving first thing in the morning.
You didnât want to push and pry, but you hope heâd open up soon. Or maybe, hopefully Tanjiro could talk some sense into him. You decide to at least go to the door and greet the boy.
âGiyu-San!? Maybe heâs not homeâŠâ
âHe just left, in fact,â you say, opening the door. âMaybe you can catch him for me.â
âAh! Y/n-san! H-hello! Sorry if I disturbed you!â Tanjiro said with a bow.
âNo not at all! Youâre always welcome here.â You then sigh. âSorry my stubborn husband is causing you such trouble. If itâs not too much to ask, please talk some sense into him. Iâm sure whatever it is itâs important.
Tanjiro smiled. âOf course! Leave it to me!â
For the next five days, Tanjiro shows up, trying to get your husband to talk to him. Youâre thoroughly entertained by the situation that you do little to mitigate, ignoring Giyuâs obvious and desperate looks for help. After almost two weeks of this, Giyu finally comes home early one night with a rather defeated expression. Youâre in bed reading when he enters your shared room and immediately collapses on the futon.
âRough day?â You tease.
âTanjiro doesnât know when to quit,â Giyu sighs. He sheds his haori and places his is katana off to the side. âHe wanted to have a soba eating contest?â
You laugh. âDid you win?â
âNo. I yielded and promised to help with the hashira training.â Giyu doesnât seem to thrilled by it from the tone of his voice. You frown, close your book and motion for your husband closer. Like a child, he crawls into your lap, laying his head against your chest and wrapping his arms around your waist. Giyu sighs contently, inhaling your scent.
âWhy were you so against participating in the first place? Iâm sorry, but Iâm having trouble understanding,â you say, gently running your fingers through his long hair, pulling it out of his usual ponytail.
âCan we talk about it later?â Giyu mumbles. He nuzzles his face into your chest. âI just wanna hold you right now.â
You cup Giyuâs cheeks, forcing him to look at you. You smile. âItâs ok. Iâm here for you.â You kiss him gently. Giyu relaxes into the kiss, groaning at the softness of your lips. âI love you so much. Donât forget, okay?â
Giyu exhales. âOkay.â
He kisses you again, this time with more urgency. You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him close as you lay back down into the futon. Giyu trails kisses down the side of your neck, leaving love bites in their wake. His wandering hands tug at your nightgown, exposing your breasts to the cool air. His hair tickles your cheek making you giggle.
âCome on,â you tease, unbuttoning the top of Giyuâs uniform. âClothes off.â His cheeks were flushed red, and his arousal was evident from the growing bulge in his pants.
âHelp me, will you?â Giyu asks, shyly hiding his face in the crook of your neck. He watches while you unbuckle his belt and losen his trousers so that they fall to the floor. He could almost sigh from the instant relief when you release his erection from the confines of his boxers.
You give his cock a few languid strokes, making Giyu shudder in response. He twitched in your hand as you rub your thumb over the sensitive tip, precum beginning to leak out.
âA-ahâŠf-feels goodâŠâ Giyu groans. He has to steady himself on his elbows, resting his forehead against yours. It takes all his strength not to cum right there on the spot. He hikes your leg up around his waist and aligns his cock at your dripping entrance. âRelax, okay? I got you.â
Giyu slowly thrusts in, your wetness causing little resistance. You both groan at the feeling of him stretching you out. Your hips buck upwards, searching for more.
âG-Giyu, m-more,â you plea.
Your husband grunted and picked up the pace. He couldn't get the enough of the way you felt around him. The way your gummy walls would convulse with each snap of his hips. Your high pitched and needy moans for him and him alone nearly drove him over the edge.
"T-there! A-again!" You beg. You wrap your arms around Giyuâs shoulders to hold him close. Capturing your lips again, Giyu sucked hard on them in order to bruise. His thumb jabbed against your clit.
The action caused You to cum. You squealed, biting down on his tongue, making him growl. Your clit pulsated, feeling like it was still vibrating. Tingles raced through veins, rocking your entire body.
"F-fuck, I'm close!" Giyu pants.
His own high was reaching. His thrusts became less rhythmic and more sloppy. Low grunts and moans left his lips. The feeling of You tightening around his dick even more was enough to send him over the edge.
He comes with a low groan. His body rocks and he collapses on top of you, burrying his head into the crook of your neck once more. You squirm feeling him release into your womb.
Giyu pulls out, almost reluctantly and pulls you into his chest. He holds you close as you lull off to sleep. Before you doze off you hear your husband mutter a soft âI love you.â
Himejima Gyomei: Stone Hashira
âDamn it!â You huff. âWhyâŠhuffâŠdid hisâŠhuffâŠtrainingâŠhuffâŠhave to be on top of a stupid mountain!â
You slowly waddle your way up the top of the mountain side, on your way to deliver lunch to your husband who had been preoccupied for weeks with the Hashira training. He barely had been home. If he was, it was usually long after you had gone to sleep just to check on you and your unborn child. Then, he was gone before dawn to resume the training.
You missed him dearly. You hated how empty and cold your futon felt without his warmth. You hated how antsy you felt with not only the fear of the upcoming battle with Muzan looming in the distance, but the anxiety knowing that your due date was approaching within the next month. Sitting around was driving you crazy, so you took it upon yourself to make your husband a home cooked meal and bring it to him, asking the crow to guide you. What you didnât expect was him to be at the top of a literal fucking mountain.
âUgh I canât do thisâŠâ you groaned, pausing at a random tree to rest. âMy feet are cramping and if this child kicks me in my bladder one more timeâŠâ
âEh? Mrs. Himejima?â
âEh? Ah! Genya!â While youâre thrilled to see the boy that youâve quite honestly grown attached to like your own child, he on the other hand is freaking out. Why were you out here alone in your condition? Did Himejima know that you were here? What should he do? Help you get home?
âGenya, have you seen Gyomei?â You eagerly ask, grabbing the boyâs hands. âI was trying to surprise him with lunch, but I kinda got lost on my way up here. Itâs such a ways away from the other hashira isnât it.â
âU-um I-I,â Genya stammered. He then sighed. He couldnât say no to you when your expression was so innocent. He also wouldnât forgive himself he let you get hurt. âOk. Iâll lead the way. P-please be careful. Let me know immediately if you need anything!â
âOf course!â
You follow Genya down a path, asking the boy how his training has been with the other hashira. Eventually, the sound of roaring water fills your ears and you both arrive to a massive water fall.
âNamu Amida Butsu,â someone chants and you realize that there are demon slayers standing under the water, bracing the impact.
âOh my, this is Gyomeiâs training?â You gasp.
âOnly the first part,â Genya sighs. âMost people collapse and donât get past the rest.â
âI see.â Youâre not that surprised that your husbandâs session was the seemingly most physically challenging and demanding. It would of course be no issue for him as his giant stature and inhuman strength made even the most impossible of tasks look like a breeze. But you feel for the younger ones who havenât quite figured out how to unlock that same inner strength.
âEh? Wait? Is that Zenitsu!?â You exclaimed, realizing you recognized a head of yellow hair floating down the river. âEhh! Oh dear! Zenitsu!â
âWait! Mrs. Himejima!â
Youâre already waddling toward the riverbed, trying to reach out and grab the seemingly unconscious boy. You strain as you try your best to grab him, but he slips past you. The rocks are slick with water and before you realize it, you lose your balance. Before you tumble forward, someone grabs you by your waist and gently lifts you out of the river.
âMy love, what ever are you doing here?â The low, calm rumble of your husbandâs voice fills your ears. Your cheeks warm as your face lights up in excitement.
âGyomei!â You turn in his arms to hug him around his neck. âI missed you! I bought you lunch! Come on, letâs eat it before it gets cold.â
Gyomei chuckles. âLetâs get you out of the wet clothes first so you do not catch a cold.â He looks over to Genya and gives a slight nod. âThank you for looking after her. You can be done for the day, Genya.â
âR-right! Thank you, sensei.â
You talk your husbandâs ear off about nonsense, him listening with a smile on his face as he carries your back home. By the time you make it back though, youâre sneezing, shivering slightly from the cold.
âMy love, what ever were you doing up there?â Gyomei asks, setting you down. He gently unties your Obi, sliding the wet kimono off your shoulders. âYou couldâve been hurt, dear.â
âI wanted to surprise you with lunchâŠâ you say somewhat bash fully. âI havenât seen you much and Iâve really missed you.â
Gyomei softly smiles. âIâm sorry. I didnât mean to make you feel neglected.â He unties the juban undergarment and youâre left completely bare and exposed before him.
You feel slightly self conscious. Your body has changed so much from the pregnancy. Your breasts were constantly swollen and tender. Your stomach now round and full with stretch marks streaking across your thighs. Yet, Gyomeiâs hands are gentle as he explores the new changes to your body. His fingers grace over the curve of your belly, smiling as he feels his babyâŠyour babyâŠkick against his palm.
âItâs okâŠâ you let out a shaky breath. âI know itâs your job.â
âNo, my first priority is you and will always be you,â Gyomei insists.
âM-mei, can you touch me?â You plea.
âBut youâre so far along now. I do not wish to hurt you, my love.â
âYou wonât!â Maybe itâs the pregnancy hormones. Or maybe itâs the fact that youâve been missing the gentle intimacy with your husband due to his busy schedule. Either way, youâre finding yourself overcome with desire, wanting nothing but for Gyomei to take and fill you up. âPlease?â
Gyomei sighs. He canât say no to you. âIf I hurt you at any point please let me know.â
Laying down, Gyomei pulls you by your waist over his face, his hot breath tickling your core. Your face flushes. âW-wait, Mei, Iâve gained so much weight cause of the pregnancy. Iâm so much heavier now and-â
âI donât care,â Gyomei says, his gentle hands caressing your skin. âYou can sit.â
âB-but-â
âSit.â
The command leaves your legs weak and you settle down over your husbandâs face. He grips your waist as he begins to eat you out. You gasp, for some reason more overly sensitive than usual.
âM-Mei-â you whimper. You rock your hips in tangent with his tongue. Gyomeiâs touch tickles your skin. He traces the curve of your stomach, making you shiver. He cups your breasts. They feel larger, and more swollen than usual in preparation to breastfeed. Your nipples are more sensitive too, stiff from Gyomei playing with them.
Your thighs try to clench shut, which Gyomei puts an immediate stop to. He forces your legs open wider to have deeper access to your dripping cunt as he greedily laps up everything you drop. Your essence is so sweet and he can never get enough of you.
As much as he hates to admit it, heâs hated how much his responsibilities as hashira have taken his focus away from you. Heâs missed your touch, your taste. Heâs missed your scent and your presence. He has noticed all the subtle ways your body has changed and he hates that he hasnât been around more often to witness it.
âA-ah, Iâm gonna cum,â you whimper, gripping at Gyomeiâs hair. You let out a soft cry as your orgasm hits. Your body shudders and you feel your clit tingle as Gyomei sucks on the sensitive nerves. He laps up your release, squeezing your hips to ground himself. âW-wait. T-too much.â Suddenly, a second orgasm rocks your body that leaves you gasping. Your legs have lost their feeling, and you couldnât stand even if you wanted to.
Gyomei pulls you into his lap. He hugs you into his chest, his hands snaking under your stomach to lift it gently and provide you some sort of relief. You sigh contently now that some of the weight was lifted.
âAre you alright my love?â Gyomei asks, kissing the back of your neck.
âMm..â Your cheeks flush as you can feel your husbandâs straining erection by sitting on his lap. His hard cock presses against his pants, yet he makes no effort to deal with it. âM-mei, do youâŠum want some help withâŠâ
Gyomei chuckles, his chest rumbling. âPlease do not worry about me, love. Your comfort and pleasure is my first priority.â
Rengoku Kyojuro: Flame Hashira
Like Uzui, Rengoku came out of retirement to help with the Hashira training. His session would take place after one passed Tokitoâs endurance training and focused on working on Total Concentration Breathing.
Seems easy, no?
Reality is most people pass out due to their inability to regulate their breathing correctly, thus having to start the process all over again. Your job is to go around a bring water to keep the slayers hydrated. But most are unable to drink due to the constricting feeling of the lungs after trying to recover from constantly using total concentration breathing. That along with the other physical strains it puts on the body. So you just do your best to encourage people to drink when they can.
âCome now! You must focus on the flow of your breathing and raise your awareness of your entire body!â Your husbandâs loud voice carries across the training grounds. You can even hear him when inside. âMastering this will even allow you to detect the most hidden injuries and slow the progression of poisonsâ
âDarling, donât overwork them,â you say, coming outside with a new pitcher of drinks and cups. You offer him a cup, which he gratefully takes. âLet them catch their breath first.â
âVery well! 3 minutes then we shall start the next rep!â
You can feel all the gracious looks from the junior slayers as they can finally recuperate for a moment, even if brief. You know your husband isnât intentionally trying to be harsh. He just gets so passionate about something and sometimes seems to forget that others do not possess the same strength or stamina as him.
âHello? Rengoku-San?â A familiar voice calls out. Itâs a face you and Kyojuro havenât seen in a minute.
âAh! Kamado! Long time no see!â Kyojuro exclaims. âIâm glad to see youâre in good condition!â
âItâs good to see you again! You too, Y/n-san!â
âIâm glad youâre doing well,â you say cheerfully. âGood luck with the training.â
Since Tanjiro had already had some experience with Total Concentration Breathing, his session was slightly modified. Heâd have to tackle the XL gourd, bigger than the one he did at the Butterfly Mansion and then would spar with Kyojuro. If he stopped his Breathing heâd have to restart. But before any of that, for a warm up, all slayers had to run a 5K while maintaining their breathing.
By the time the sun set, just about everyone was passed out, beyond exhausted from the day. Kyojuro was still in overly good spirits, and full of energy as if the training didnât even cause him to break a sweat.
âKyo, I think itâs best to call it a day,â you deadpan.
âReally? But itâs not even dark yet?â Your husband has the most innocent look on his face.
You frown but then an idea strikes you. You lean in close to Kyojuro so that others around you canât hear the next filthy words that leave your lips.
âIf you still have so much energy left, why donât you use that to put a baby in me like youâve been wanting.â
You walk off without letting him respond, so you miss the way Kyojuroâs face explodes red. He rambles off some sort of excuse to the other slayers about training concluding for the day before rushing off to find you.
You wait patiently in your room, undressing so that youâre in nothing but your underwear by the time your husband arrives in a frenzy. Kyojuroâs face is flushed, chest chest heaving. The moment he spots you, he picks you up and pins you to the nearest wall, kissing you with urgency.
You groan as Kyojuroâs tongue forces its way into your mouth. His hands gripping the meat of your thighs tightly as he presses his growing erection against your exposed core.
âFeel so big, Kyo,â you whimper, rolling your hips against his.
âMy flame, did you mean what you said earlier?â Kyojuro pants, his voice husky and airy as what little restraint he had started slipping away. He needed to fill you up and feel you around him bad, but he wouldnât unless you were serious.
âPut a baby in me, Kyojuro,â you all but demand.
âIf that is what my lovely life wishes,â Kyojuro chuckles. He lays you on the futon and sheds his clothes quickly. âThen I shall fulfill.â His cock is already stiff against his abdomen, twitching in his hand as pre cum oozes from the tip. You trace your fingers down his scared torso, noting the way Kyojuroâs muscles tense at your touch.
âI canât wait to see what you look like when you tummyâs all swollen and full with my child,â Kyojuro said, aligning his cock at your entrance, his cheeks flushed. âYouâll make such a good mother.â
In a single thrust, Kyojuro sheathed his cock into your cunt to the hilt. The penetration left your eyes watering, crying out in pleasure. Kyojuro groaned. You felt so snug and warm around him that it took everything to keep from pounding into you right away.
âG-godsâŠyou feel so goodâŠâ
âK-kyo, m-move,â you beg, trying to move your hips for some sort of friction.
Kyojuro grunts. He pins your legs to your chest, With a languid roll of his hips, he experimentally pulled his length out from the clamp of your hole. And with a sharp snap, he drove himself back into you. The sheer force of his scorching length shot the first wave of pleasure through the both of you. The two of you let out low moans. That first penetration gave way to a succession of increasingly rougher thrusts that had your body burning with pleasure.
Kyojuroâs body shuddered slightly anticipation. You clung to him and dug your nails in his shoulders trying to keep him close. The way his cock stretched you out had you feeling so full and lightheaded, leaving you babbling his name like a mantra.
Kyojuro groaned. He hovered over you, leaning down the kiss you passionately. His hands trailed up side to your nipples that became erect from pleasure. Lips trailing up the side of your neck, he left several bite marks.
"Ah a-ah t-that feels funny." You squirmed. "Kyo ~"
The sound of you moaning his name made Kyojuroâs cock throb. He fumbled slightly, his aggressive and frantic rutting becoming slower and slightly sloppy, instead.
âUgh, coming,â Kyojuro groaned. He buried himself all the way to the hilt inside you. His orgasm hit and it hit hard. His dick pulsated with each subsequent spurt of cum. His hips still as he emptied inside you.
Your eyes roll to the back of your head as you feel your insides snap. Your pussy clenching tightly around Kyojuro, practically milking him as your own high shakes your body.
âS-shit,â Kyojuro gasps. He pulled out of your abused hole, watching the way his seed trickled out. The sight made his dick twitch. âThis wonât do,â he chuckled while pulling your legs up around his waist. âAt this rate, I wonât get you pregnant. Guess Iâll just have to fill you up again and again until it sticks.â
#demon slayer#kimetsu no yaiba#x reader#x female reader#demon slayer x reader#kimetsu no yaiba x reader#smut#kimetsu no yaiba smut#demon slayer smut#rengoku kyojuro#rengoku x reader#gyomei himejima#sanemi shinaguzawa#kny#kny smut#giyu tomioka#giyuu x reader#tengen uzui#kny uzui#obanai iguro#hashira training arc#kny rengoku
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Unbeknownst to Wally, the notes are from Clockwork desperately trying to contact anyone who can actually influence the timestream outside the Observantâs watchful eyes.
After getting the notes to Bruce, they reveal the frantic ramblings of a [Parent? Mentor? Guardian?], desperately crying out for them to save his [word untranslatable but presumed to mean son, mentee, or child] from a government organization a few universes over.
The being, who introduces himself as Clockwork, reveals he cannot influence anything himself but can watch over the streams of time and has observed Wallyâs ability to interfere and change itâs threads. If his [son?] dies, it will mean the destruction of all of the infinite realms (a cosmic foil to the speed force thatâs a force of death and timelessness instead of life and the constant movement forward of the universe).
All in all, the letters are rushed, barely explain anything except location, date, what condition heâs in, and how to save the boy.
Who exactly is this boy? Why is he so important to the Infinite Realms? What are the Infinite Realms exactly? Who is this âClockworkâ and why are they so important? Who are the Observants? And so many more. All are valid questions, and all are entirely unanswered.
But regardless, with Captain Marvel confirming the existence of the Infinite Realms, that it was under attack, and the very real negative effects it would have on their universe if it collapsed; Wally must now gather a crew and embark on a rescue mission across universes to save this kid[? They actually donât really know his status of age other than heâs younger and in the care of the mysterious âClockworkâ who sent the letters in the first place].
Batman, because⊠of course heâs going to go investigate what the hell is happening. Not only can his eye for strategy, stealth, hacking, and intimidation give the team an advantage in getting the most answers out of the government ages there. But Bruce also has so many damn questions, barely any of which were answered by the notes Wally received, so he needs to go into this mission to investigate not only this new alternate universe government threat but to get as much information possible before they leave, in addition to ensuring Clockworkâs child is safely rescued.
Clark is elected as he is most likely to handle whatever this government organization has in store (and Clark âgot injuredâ in the most recent supervillain battle that smashed into the Daily Planet, so he conveniently has some time off while he ârecovers from his injury.â But also because he heard a kid was in danger and, well, it feels wrong to not help someone in need).
Captain Marvel (god, they gotta get to know the guy more. heâs so damn reserved but is great at this particular brand of buck-wild missions), not only because of his incredible intelligence, invulnerability, strength, and being great with kids and teenagers; but also is primarily chosen for the team due to his knowledge of the Infinite Realms. He can also give live feedback on the state of the Realm thatâs apparently actively tearing apart and crumbling! If something goes wrong, Cap will be able to give them a warning before all shit breaks loose.
Next recruitment is Patrick OâBrian, aka Plastic Man. His abilities of stealth (if he can keep his mouth shut), infiltration (absolutely), invulnerability (overpowered as high hell), versatility (dear god he can literally become anything or anyone as long as itâs in his own color pallet), and because he has a particular soft-spot for kids.
(Plas and Clark are already moping to each other about having to leave their respective partners (Woozy and Lois) behind. Meanwhile Wally is biting at the chance for just a tiny break from the twins, sorry Linda.)
Lastly, brought surprisingly by Captain Marvel is Booster Gold. His additional experience in time-travel and time stream manipulation will come mighty in handy during the mission. It helps that Booster has some âBona fide genuine ecto-weaponsïżŒ, dudes! Letâs go and save Phantom!â that he brought from the 25th century. And, well. At least now they had the name âPhantomâ from Booster to work off of.
Kon and Thad are notified to be on-call for the Recovery Teamâs arrival back as clones were mentioned in one of the hundreds of notes and Clark thought it might be nice for the boys to have another friend they can relate to. Tim and Bart are close behind because despite Bruce and Max telling them to not interfere, they want to also meet the alternate universe breaking guy who has enough trust from Clark to keep Kon and Thad on-deck in case theyâre needed to help the guy make some friends his age.
â-
This is rushed and not super refined, I just wanted to get the basic initial idea out of my head & get it out there. So sorry if this is a tad wonky to read at times, thatâs my bad
Short DPXDC Prompts #576
Wally doesnât understand these strange messages written on bright green post-it notes that keep appearing near him. Whatever itâs trying to say, the messages keep increasing in amount every day.
#god this was mean to be short but the ideas just kept coming#this isnât particularly well written or has a great plot and is just the set up but Iâm tired and heading to bed now so this is what ya get#bones writes#dp x dc#bones replies#modern takes on âthe Golden Age characterization of Plastic Man and Captain Marvel/Shazam supremacy#i think their vibes. especially plasâs comedic antics faced with a serious written character such as Marvel#that derived humor in the original comics Not from words or quips (although they definitely were there! just Marvel wasnât the one doing it#generally) was often from the situations Marvel got into. not the words or puns he said#meanwhile Plasâs Quality Comics combo of physical and verbal comedy present a delightful foil to the Captain#in addition to their shared Pure Goodness and insistence of never doing crime because itâs Bad#(for Billy: because it makes him feel bad bc of his extremely strict and rigid moral compass)#(for plas: because heâs a reformed crook and heâs not going back to those days. no siree. heâs reformed through and through.)#plus their mutual fright of women and avoiding womenâs advances on them (sure they have different reasons for doing so with Billy being bc#heâs a literal child and for Plas itâs because heâs not only uninterested in women but actively avoids literally any romantic invances#with the same furiosity an extreme arachnophobic would have to avoid spiders at all cost#) that and Plasâs yearn for taking care of kids but being utterly piss poor at doing so#so a self sufficient child like Billy would be genuinely perfect for him to try to take care of#honestly? golden aged Billy Batson is probably more sufficient than both plas and woozy combined for acting like an adult#donât forget. woozy and plas ARE smart. they just forget that and fuck up horribly whenever thereâs comedic gag to be had as a result#also. Billy in this is Golden Aged Billy Batson so Captain Marvel is as well#his WEAKNESS is magic. NOT his strength. he is op smart. strong. wise. etc. and is the physical form of the magic lightning#so Billy and Cap are simultaneously the same yet different people and can essentially astral project themselves to talk to the other#bc while I like the modern shazam⊠in concept. the âhard down on their luck orphan who was a last ditch effort for Shazam + mind of a childâ#really is not the interpretation I think they shouldâve gone for at all and I like the Captain Marvel âdifferent guy than Billy +#billy is actually pure of heart with a rigid moral compass with the original heart of gold and NOT the âmind of a childâ metaphor insteadâ#bones writes in the tags#also. one last additional note. even though this has never been in character for booster gold. I feel like he Should talk like bill and Ted.#itâs just vibes. but god I want someone So Fucking Badly to write a crossover of them meeting in time and booster giving them terrible#just fucking absolutely terrible girl advice until bill & ted realize that they should just be themselves and thatâs what truly matters
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Toji can never shut up about you when his friends get him drunk. It's the one topic that never fails to be discussed when his friends manage to drag him away from your warm security for a night. Once the amount of alcohol he drank starts to hit and his overly chatty side is lured out, he spends the entire time talking about you, and the others just kind of listen to his ramblings and remain utterly shocked by how smitten he is. He talks so much about you, like he's trying to make up for the time he isn't spending with you.
It's always, "Shh... listen, shut the fuck up. Listen, listen, she smells so fucking good. Like she's fresh out the shower all the time" and "God... she purrs like a little kitten when I take her to bed" and "She's out of my league, but i'm not gonna fuck up the chance she gave me".
If it weren't for Shiu taking his phone, he would constantly be trying to reach you. Sometimes you're the one who calls when it gets late, just to see how things are going, and Shiu's always the one who picks up before he hands you over to Toji.
"Hey, Shiu! How is everything?"
"It's going pretty well, aside from Toji being a drunk mess." He scouts the area in search of your boyfriend and spots him next to another friend. Toji's all starry-eyed as he talks the poor man's ear off about you. "Wanna talk to him? He's been talking about you nonstop and it's starting to make the other guys jealous."
You giggle. "Sure. Let me talk to my idiot."
You can hear the commotion as well as the faint sound of Shiu alerting Toji of you being on the other end of the line.
"Heyyy, baby. You miss me? You need me?" You can hear the smile on his face. He's pacing back and forth as he waits for your voice to come back on the line.
The sound of Toji's voice makes your heart beat a little faster. It sounds like he made good use of his night out.
"You know I do, baby. Be safe, alright? Have Shiu send you home in a cab when you're ready to go and text me when you get home."
"I love you, ma. I fucking love you. I don't wanna be here anymore." He sighs, heavily. "Can I just go home, already? I've been trapped here for like five days now."
"I love you, Toji, and it hasn't been five days. More like five hours, but yeah, you can head home if you're done. Put Shiu back on the phone."
"No." He simply says, as he continues to pace around the crowded bar. "I miss you so much. I don't wanna see anyone else, anymore."
"Okay, baby. Tell Shiu you're ready to go. I'll see you tomorrow."
"I love you," he says once more before putting the phone down, leaving you to do the hanging up.
â
"Shiu, i'm leaving. I'm ready to go, man. She said okay and I... Well, I wanna go see her."
"You're not going over there like this," Shiu responds. "She's not gonna be able to handle you alone, right now. I'll call you a cab and you're going straight home."
He was so wrong about that last part. Toji got in the cab, and Shiu told the driver his address. He wouldn't ever find out about how Toji ended up redirecting the cab to your place.
"Psst, hey. I'll give you another ten bucks if you turn around and go to this address."
Without hesitation, the man accepted the money and dropped Toji off at your apartment. He slowly made his way to your front door, ringing the doorbell and knocking right after to make sure you hear him.
You put down the dish rag you were using to dry dishes and headed to the door. You looked through the peephole and as soon as you see Toji standing on your doorstep, you gasp. Your brows furrow in confusion as you continue to stare at him for couple more seconds, just to make sure it's actually him and not some random, sketchy man.
"Babyyy... Open. Your boyfriend is here." He knocks again, his fist like a mallet on your door.
"Toji, shh. Stop," you say, voice low. You quickly pull him into your apartment, dismissing his laugh as you shut and lock the door when you both make it in.
"Oh, baby." He smiles as you approach him again. "Baby, baby." He pulls you into an overly tight embrace and sways you side to side, effortlessly. You smell a mixture of alcohol and cologne on his shirt. "My pretty girl. Fuck, I missed you and your body." He buries his face into the crook of your neck and allows his hands to settle on your lower back. You hear him take a whiff of your scent before carrying on with his rambling. "I didn't even wanna be there..." he mumbles. "...but they stole me away and I-" He hums in confusion when he realizes you aren't reciprocating the hug and pulls your arms around him before putting his hands on your lower back again. "I'm just gonna say no next time. Those drinks were disgusting."
Normally, you reciprocating his affection wouldn't be an issue, but you're still stuck on how he's there, standing a couple feet from your kitchen and not at his place. You can hear his quiet, labored breaths beside your ear. His looming frame and the tightness of his arms around you bring a lot more reality to the situation.
"Let's get you ready for bed, okay?" You say to the giant who threatens to tip you over. You gently tug at his arms for him to release you and create some distance.
You take his hand and guide him to the bathroom first, where both of you do your nightly routines of brushing your teeth and washing your faces. He made a mess with the water when it came to washing the cleanser off his face, but you paid no mind to it as you grabbed a towel and dried it up.
You walked out of the bathroom and Toji was hot on your trail, toothbrush still in his mouth as he followed you into the kitchen. "I'm just grabbing some water. It'll just take a quick second." You smile as he continues to sluggishly brush his teeth. He pauses to respond.
"Why do you wanna leave me so bad? You didn't tell me you were leaving the bathroom. You were just gonna go and leave me alone in there?" he says, slightly muffled by the toothpaste that fills his mouth.
You laugh when some of the foam falls to the floor.
"Okay, okay. Let's go back to the bathroom together, then."
"You can't leave me on the couch," he says, out of nowhere, more suds falling onto the floor. You push him a little so that by the time he reaches the bathroom, at least some toothpaste remains in his mouth.
He dips his head and spits out the foam into the sink, rinsing his mouth after. You have to go back and tidy things up, like the cloud he didn't make sure was washed away before stepping away from the sink, and the bubbly spume that spilled out of his mouth in the kitchen and the hallway.
He's following you again, like a lost puppy because you didn't comment on what he said about not wanting to stay on the couch. He's quiet because you're quiet. You're not saying anything because you're focused on wiping up the cleaning spray and toothpaste mixture on the floor with a paper towel, and he's leaning against the wall, silently watching, feeling like you're mad at him.
You stand up straight and make your way to the trashcan before washing your hands. "Let's go, Toji," you say. He's looking at you like a scolded dog, reaching his hand out for you to hold. In his mind, if you take it, you can't be too mad at him. His chest feels so much lighter when your soft palm meets his. The heaviness is replaced with a racing heart as you take him to the room with you. You're not leading him to the couch like he thought you were going to.
"You're letting me sleep next to you?" He asks, watching as you put up a couple more pillows for him to use.
"Since when do you sleep on the couch? You know I need you here with me whenever you sleep over." You turn around and pinch his cheek, stepping behind him to creak the door shut.
"Yeah? You like when I stay in your bed?" His voice goes low with the question. His hands go to your waist and he's walking you backwards towards your bed. "Well I like staying in your bed too, mama." He lays you down, your head cradled by his hand before he slides it out of the way for your pillow to take its place. He grins as he takes up all the space between your legs, his hands taking their position on your waist again. He takes your lips in his, the minty flavor of his mouth seeping into your taste buds. It's a short lived moment, because the second his hands try to tug your shorts down, you put a stop to everything, your own hands pulling your shorts back up.
"Mm..." you hum, releasing his lips with a quiet smack. "N-No, Toji. Not like this."
"No?" He repeats, a small crease of confusion between his brows as he pulls his hands away from your hips. "Okay," he complies, quickly diverting the situation by resting his whole body down on you. His chin rests on your chest and he just looks up at you with the most loving expression. You have to try not to laugh when you notice he isn't blinking.
You gently scratch the back of his head, threading your fingers through his hair. "What?" You ask, a soft smile following the question.
"I don't know," he says, sighing with that same adoring gaze still fixated on you. "I can't explain the way I see you." Not having the sufficiently accurate words to describe how you are depicted in his eyes is a strange, void-like feeling for someone who could talk about you for days on end.
You just hum at the declaration. His mind isn't exactly operating at one hundred percent, so you won't judge him for his inability to think of ways to describe you.
He lowers his gaze and buries his face in your warm chest. You can feel him kissing you through the thin material of your tank top. "Love you," he mumbles. "You mad at me?" He asks, not pausing his kisses as he waits for your answer.
"No, baby. There's nothing to be mad about." You smooth down his hair when you're done playing with it and rest your hands on his shoulders.
"Just wanted to see you." His warm breath filters through your shirt. "Shiu told me no, but I didn't care. I just had to see you, and now... i'm here." He inhales and lets out the breath slowly. "And I don't wanna go home." As if he's scared he'll be denied of you again, his arms go under your back, and he effectively molds his body into yours.
"You could've let me know over the phone rather than giving me a heart attack. You know you're always welcome here, my love." You rub soothing circles into his back with one hand, and the other goes to the back of his head again.
"Surprise," he says, lacking so much enthusiasm that it even makes him chuckle. He pushes his face further into your chest and lets out a sigh that reveals his tiredness. "Mm... you're gonna put me to sleep if you keep doing that."
You laugh, slowing your movements until your hands are just flat in their positions.
"No, ma," he groans, frustrated by the lack of your soothing touch on him. "Do it again, please. Feels good." He turns his head so that the side of his face rests on your chest.
It's impossible to deny him, especially when he asked so nicely. You like being able to help him relax this way. Never mind the lack of feeling in your legs from his weight and the minimal movement you've been allowed. You just can't seem to find it in yourself to whine about your position when the sound of him rhythmically breathing through his nose takes over the silence of the room. You tilt your head slightly to get a look at his face and as you suspected, he's out. His eyes are shut and he's motionless, save for the slight rise and fall of his shoulders and back as he breathes.
A kiss to the top of his head was your show of making peace with having him as your weighted blanket and human teddy bear for the night.
Shiu said you wouldn't be able to handle a drunk Toji all alone, yet there you have him, piled on and drooling on you like he's getting the best sleep.
#toji#toji fushiguro#toji fluff#toji x y/n#toji x you#toji x reader#toji fushiguro x y/n#toji fushiguro x you#toji fushiguro x reader#jjk toji#jjk toji x reader#jjk x y/n#jjk x you#jjk x reader#jujutsu toji#jujutsu kaisen x you#jujutsu kaisen toji#jujutsu kaisen fic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#jjk drabbles#fanfic#jjk#jjk fic#jjk fluff#jjk scenarios#jjk fanfic#jjk fushiguro#fushiguro toji x reader#jujutsu fushiguro
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Soap coaxing his new girlfriend into fooling around on the couch while they have the apartment to themselves (he has a roommate, but "Gaz isnae comin' hame 'til after" he coos, already shoving his hand down the front of your pants and sawing two thick fingers between your folds).
You let him paw at you and peel your clothes off because you've been wound up all day and he's the hottest guy you've ever dated, so why wouldn't you let him feel you up whenever he's horny? (Which is more often than you thought; practically all the time actually.)
(Tw: noncon/dubcon)
Only Gaz walks through the door the second Soap has you spread on your belly on the couch with your ass in the air, fat cock buried to the root. And he doesn't stop when you shriek and Gaz cocks an eyebrow, unfazed by his roommate screwing his girlfriend on the communal couch.
In fact, he wanders over after taking off his coat, greeting Soap in a totally normal voice while you struggle under your boyfriend, trying to cover your bare tits with your arm at the same time until Soap gets irritated by all your fussing and twists both of your arms behind your back.
"Yer back early," Soap grouses, hips pumping into you in shallow plunges, like his roommate coming home early is distracting enough to reign in some of his excitement, but not enough to make him stop.
"Shop closed early today," Gaz shrugs, dropping his bag by the shoe rack, still remarkably unbothered by what's going on in front of him.
You're humiliated, horrified. More upset with yourself than anything (that's a lie - you're way angrier with Soap, but he doesn't even flinch when you scream about covering up and try to buck him off; he just moans and braces a foot on the floor to get a better angle) because you've only gotten wetter since Gaz walked through the front door.
"Fuck, dae that again, sweetie," he pants, cock so deep that you can feel it nudge your cervix with every stroke.
Squirming doesn't help much because all it does is make you tighten around Soap's cock.
"Poor girl," Gaz tuts, standing in front of the two of you now. You think the situation can't get any worse and then he strokes your cheek with the back of his knuckles, looking almost pityingly down at you. The shock at being touched by him leaves you tongue-tied, struck dumb. "Being a bit rough with her, aren't you, mate?"
He smooths a thumb over your cheekbone. You clench up tighter at Gaz's touch, dragging a guttural moan out of your boyfriend. It's awhile before he finds his voice again.
"Christ," Soap hisses through his teeth. "Och, yer fuckin' nasty, bonnie; git aff oan Gaz watchin' ye? She clenched richt up whin ye spoke."
"Can't blame her - miss having someone be nice to you, huh, sweetheart?"
Soap's voice is dismissive and panting when he responds. "Nah, she loves this. Begs fer it rough."
"Aw, that's not true, is it, sweetheart?" Gaz coos down at you, and you swear you're going to say something, swear the next thing out of your mouth won't be a slutty moan.
But a thumb slips into your mouth and presses against your tongue when you part your lips, and you close your lips around it reflexively.
"Yeah; there we go," he says in a low voice, smooth as molasses, unzipping his fly with one hand when you give his thumb a suck. "Nah, Johnny, you got yourself a good girl here. Gotta treat her right."
And that's how you wind up pinned on your belly with your boyfriend's cock deep in your cunt and his roommate's spreading your lips wide, eyes welling up from the stretch. You lose patches of time after that, thoughts fizzling out until you're only aware of being filled at both ends and the slick, wet sounds of the two of them making out over your prone body.
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Jade can I please get a chatty af yapper sunshine girlfriend with Sirius?? Like May be someone tells her she talks a lot so she's super quiet around him cuz she's worried he'll get annoyed and break up with her but poor Sirius he misses his chatty girl and just angst with fluff
thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k
James Potter means well. Honestly, you donât think he has a mean bone in his body, so you try not to take it to heart.Â
Unfortunately, your attempts to do so donât work. They really, unquestionably donât. By the time youâre outside of Siriusâ flat that afternoon, Jamesâ small comment is all you can think of.Â
âYouâre so chatty Iâm surprised you donât run out of breath,â heâd said. Not without love. Youâd bumped into him in Sainsburyâs and ended up talking for ages about one thing or another, you know him well, youâd even say you were friends, though heâs of course Siriusâ friend rather than your own. âBut Iâm the same. God, Sirius used to hate how much I talked, heâd be sick of me. I think I numbed him to it over the years.âÂ
You canât imagine it. Sirius and James are best friends. With Remus, theyâre the most in love threesome of friends youâve ever met, and itâs nice; it makes you very proud to have a boyfriend who cares for others as deeply as Sirius cares for them. Itâs like a constant demonstration of how heâs a good man.Â
But youâd never stopped to consider that they werenât always so seamless, and youâve regrettably never considered that your constant talking is something that could put him off.Â
You talk to Sirius about everything. There isnât a word to describe the excitement of having someone waiting to listen to you every single night. You could tell him every detail of a day down to what colour socks you wore and you know heâll sit there listening with his hand on the small of your back, or his fingers twined between yours. Youâve never felt so loved as to be able to just talk about everything and have him talk back.Â
But⊠what if, this whole time, heâs been wishing for a little bit of quiet?Â
What if eventually, the talking becomes too much?Â
He must be with you for a reason. You arenât holding the poor guy hostage, he acts like heâs mad for you ninety percent of the time (while the other ten percent is spent sleeping on your shoulder).Â
Like now âyou knock his door and you can hear him scrambling up from the sofa, the sound of a book dislodged or a remote hitting the rug, youâre not sure. The door yanks open and Sirius smiles at you, pulling you in through the gap with a familiar hand on your hip.Â
âHey,â Sirius says, tucking you against his side, âhey, did you get lovelier over the weekend?â He shoves the door closed and gives you a hug with one arm, pausing in the hall. âSorry I couldnât see you. I donât think we should miss another weekend.âÂ
You have a lot to tell him. Itâs been ages since you spent nearly three days apart, but Jamesâ conversation stays at the front of your mind.Â
You decide to be less overwhelming, but not less loving, curling your arm behind his head to pull his cheek down for a kiss. âI donât think so, either.âÂ
Sirius tilts his head away from you in an invitation for more kissing.Â
Youâre at home in his flat. You take off your shoes and hang up your jacket. You change into a pair of jogging bottoms with loose legs and let him hoist you onto his bed for a few stolen kisses, though he isnât propositioning you, and you end up laying across his bedspread with one of your legs in his lap as he tells you about his days without you, his thumb sliding with pressure down your calf.Â
âMostly I wished Iâd asked you to come over anyways, even if it was just to sleep together at the end of the day. Maybe next time we can do that?â he asks.Â
âOf course we can.â You smile at him indulgently. âIâd come over for twenty minutes if it was all I could get.âÂ
âOr I can come to you,â he says, âeven if itâs just twenty minutes.âÂ
He smiles, a beaming thing, and leans down slowly for a soft kiss.Â
âSo,â he asks, his breath on your lips, âhow was your weekend? Lonely?âÂ
âSo lonely,â you tease lightly, eyes fluttering closed as he continues his massaging of your leg. âBut it was okay. I missed you, really, and didnât do much else.â
âNo?â he asks.Â
Your voice takes on a shine as he squeezes your knee, âMissed your hands.â Â
âI missed your everything.â He grabs for your forearms and pulls you into a sitting position. âBut everything was okay?â he asks more seriously.Â
âEverything was fine.âÂ
He raises his eyebrows, but eventually lets them relax. âWell, okay. Good, sweetheart, Iâm glad it was okay.âÂ
He persuades you into the kitchen to sit with him as he makes dinner, refusing to let you help, and yet insisting you be there in the same room, as though youâd like to be anywhere else. Sirius makes your favourite of his usual rotation, offering you spoonfuls for tasting, gaps of silence stretching as he struggles to find new conversation. You start answering his questions but remember time and time again that Sirius could become totally sick of you. He might already be.Â
Sirius puts the food on a low heat and washes his hands. He wipes them dry, but when he takes your face, dampness lines the inside of his fingers.Â
âIâd like for you to tell me whatâs wrong,â he says gently, stroking at the line of your startled frown, âbefore it gets worse. Do you want to talk about it?âÂ
âNothingâs wrong.âÂ
âPlease donât, lovely. If Iâve done something wrong, please tell me. I want us to last forever, and we canât do that if you wonât tell me when I upset you.âÂ
âIt wasnât you,â you say instinctively, then regret it.Â
âSo someone has?â he asks, still so gentle as his hands coast down your neck like heâs sculpting you, coming to rest on the slopes leading to your shoulders. âYou can tell me anything. You donât have to keep it to yourself⊠please.âÂ
âAre you sure?âÂ
âSweetheart.â He frowns deeply. Couldnât look more upset. âOf course Iâm sure. Why wouldnât I be?âÂ
You chew it over, not wanting or willing to cause ructions between Sirius and his oldest friend. âWell, I saw James today at the shop, and⊠we were talking about youâŠâÂ
He waits. âAnd?âÂ
âAnd he told me youâ you donât like talking. That you didnât like talking, that James used to make you sick of it. So I know I talk too much and youâve never made me feel like I shouldnât, but I guess I got into my head thinking youâd get sick of me, too.âÂ
âWhen we were younger I didnât like much of anything.â He curls an arm behind your neck to hold you in place, but itâs not a dominant sort of movement, only protective as your noses inch together. âDid you ever read that poem by Bukwoski? Let It Enfold You?âÂ
âWhat?âÂ
âIâm not very good at explaining myself. I thought if you knew the poem, youâdââ He laughs near your cheek. âI hated everything. It wasnât Jamesâ fault. He did make me sick of it sometimes, but I just wanted to hide from everything.â He breathes out slowly. âIâve never wanted to hide from you. I canât get sick of you. Do you get that? I canât get sick of you. Listening to you is the best part of my day, youâre my personal chatterbox.âÂ
âChatterbox,â you repeat teasingly.Â
âYou could talk for Wales,â he says. âAnd I love it, I donât want you to stop, because Iâll never be sick of it.â
âI donât want it to be some secret resentment.â
âI donât resent you for anything. I knew exactly who you were when we met and I love it.â He takes your face again. âI love it,â he repeats.Â
You steal a little kiss against the corner of his lips. âWhat was the poem?â you ask.Â
âIâll find my book, and you can read it to me. What do you think?â He takes a slow kiss as you had in the same place, words like honey. âI miss your voice.âÂ
Heâs basically pleading. Itâs not like Sirius to plead, but you pull it out of him.Â
âCan I have my dinner first?âÂ
âThe one I made while you deprived me?â he asks. âYes, if you must.âÂ
He takes another kiss, but youâre happy to give it.Â
#sirius black#sirius black x reader#sirius black x fem!reader#sirius black x you#sirius black x y/n#sirius x reader fluff#sirius black imagine#sirius black fanfiction#sirius black fanfic#sirius black fic#marauders era#marauders#sirius black drabble#sirius black scenario#sirius black oneshot#the marauders#sirius orion black
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Skin Deep
Tattoo artist!Simon x fem!reader. Reader, looking to expand her horizons, gets her first tattoo from Simon. 8.4k. Features: soft!Simon who is bad at people-ing, vaginal sex, lots of nipples, like at least three nipples, poor writing, abrupt transitions, shy and awkward reader. Based on this post.
Sequel here.
-
âI bit the bullet!â you shout over the music, hand cupped around your friendâs ear to be better heard. She shrieks in delight at the sound of your voice, turning to wrap her arms around your waist and pull you close to her swaying body. Many eyes in the club follow her movements. She has always been the wild child to your wallflower, attracting attention wherever she goes.
âYou bit what?â she shouts back, her breath like a mint julep.Â
âThe bullet,â you laugh. âI called that guy you recommended and set up an appointment. For the tattoo I wanted!âÂ
She stares at you blankly. Her silky little tank top is drooping off of one shoulder, so you reach out and tuck it back into place. The longer she stares, the more nervous you grow. Sheâd been so encouraging after your last boyfriend dumped youâencouraging you to step outside your comfort zone, to âmake more mistakesâ, to live life more fully. Now sheâs staring at you like youâve grown a second head and itâs the one doing the talking.Â
âWhat guy I recommended?â she asks.Â
âKevin!â
âOh no. No, no, no. Not Kevin. Not Kevin. Why, Kevin?âÂ
You frown. âYou said you went to Kevin.âÂ
âIt wasnât a recommendation, sweetie, if anything it was to caution you away from him! Heâs a creep; thereâs a reason why I never went back.âÂ
You deflate like a balloon, going limp and letting her drag you to the nearby free seats at the bar where you sit heavily. Itâs not just the tattoo. Itâs the icing on a shitcake of a day.Â
A new song seamlessly starts, and the dancers nearby go wild with excitement. Your mood is the antithesis of the event; everyone seems to be having a great time except for you. Story of your life.Â
âYou conveniently left that out. Ugh. Iâll cancel it. What am I even fucking doingâthank youââ you accept the cup of ice water the bartender slides in front of you with a shy smile, sipping at it and keeping your hand curled over the top of it protectively. âânone of this is like me.âÂ
Your friend frowns. She steals your drink and sips at it. âYou were the one who said youâd always wanted a tattoo. Youâre an adult. These are exactly the kinds of decisions youâre old enough to make. Look, fuck Kevin. All my friends hate Kevin. I know another guy, and heâs highly recommended. Let me give you his number. Alright?âÂ
âAlright,â you sigh. You make a silent promise to yourself though: if it doesnât work out with this next tattoo artist, then you wonât be getting one at all. Youâll take it as a sign from the universe to get back in your comfort zone and stay there, once and for all.Â
-
What kind of a moniker is Ghost? you wonder to yourself as you skim the Instagram of the shop this Ghost owns. The profile picture is one of the building itself, and all of the pictures are of various inked body parts. Beautiful ones, admittedly. But no hint of the mysterious figure who owns the shop. There is a personal instagram linked @GHOST89 but it is private when you try to click on it.Â
The phone number your friend gave you rings straight through to voicemail. You let out a shaky breath. Fuck, you hate voicemail. Talking to people was difficult enough; talking to peopleâs disembodied machines was even worse somehow. It isnât until youâve hung up after leaving your message that you realize you forgot to tell him your fucking name (genius!). Groaning, you contemplate dialing him back when the phone in your hand ringsâand itâs him.Â
âHello?âÂ
âIâm free Wednesdays for consultations,â says a baritone voice from the other end of the line.Â
Nice to talk to you too, you think dryly. Maybe this guy is as bad at the phone as you are. âI work Wednesdays. Are you free in the evenings?âÂ
He sighs, like this is going to be very strenuous for him.Â
âName a time. Iâll pencil you in. Half is due at the end of the consultation upon booking an appointment. Cash only,â he says.Â
Jesus Christ, could he be anymore abrupt? While a tiny part of you is grateful that he isnât trying to make small talk, a larger part is terrified that youâve already made an impression so foul that itâs incurred his wrath. What other reason could he have for being so stilted?Â
âAlright,â you answer cautiously. âHowâs five?âÂ
âFive. Donât be late.âÂ
He hangs up on you, leaving you wondering why every step outside your comfort zone must be so bloody far.
-
You arrive early to the consultation, only to find that the building itselfâa tidy little brick two-floor, adorned with a sign that dubbed it SKIN DEEP tattoos & artisan piercings, which you recognize from Instagramâis locked. A note written in neat handwriting taped to the door declares NO WALK INS. Your palms are sweaty. You wipe them on your work slacks, but it doesnât help. How are you supposed to get in?Â
All at once a shadow appears on the other side of the door. The shadow is enormous: well above six feet tall, and broad shouldered. A black surgical mask is tucked up over his mouth and nose, which only adds to his intimidating aura. Judging by the impressive sleeve of tattoos he has, you imagine that this is the guy.Â
Jesus, Mary, and Joseph. And Ghost.Â
Dark brown eyes stare down at you when he opens the door, cocking a hip against the frame, staring at you. Waiting.Â
Waiting for you to explain your presence, you realize.Â
âI have a consultation,â you blurt out. âAtâŠfive?â
He opens the door wider to let you pass without a word. Heâs so broad that you can smell him as you pass him: clean and masculine. The inside of the tattoo shop is bigger than it looks on the outside. There is a reception area with a desk and a computer and printer. The glossy wooden floors are polished to shine, leading to an open floor plan. There is a small sitting area with armchairs, a wide sofa, and a table on which rests two bottles of water, a notebook, and a steaming mug of liquid.
âSit,â he says, his voice the same deep rumble you recognize from the phone. He chooses the chair beside the mug. His body is so goddamn long, his legs lean and thick all at once where he stretches them out in front of him. He reaches for the mug and takes a sipâof tea, judging by the smell. âName?â
You tell him, perching yourself anxiously on the other chair. He glances up at you, eyes raking over your posture. Suddenly he tugs the mask down to rest beneath his chin, revealing a full, pale mouth. A straight, noble nose. A pink scar stretches across his lips and up towards his cheek.Â
âThe water is for you,â he says.Â
âOh!â You reach forward and take one bottle, breaking the seal. âThank you.â
âThis is your first tattoo.âÂ
âWhat gave me away?â you ask with a weak laugh.Â
He doesnât laugh. âEverything. Is someone putting you up to this? This smells like Soap.âÂ
âWhat? No, of course not. I want this, Iâm just, Iâm an anxious personality. I promise.â You hesitate and then add: âI probably smell like soap because I showered this morning.âÂ
His mouth twitches. He leans back in his seat and sucks on his teeth, and you get the distinct feeling that he is trying very hard not to laugh at you. Why had you mentioned to him that you showered? What was wrong with you? Just as youâre comprising a list of things, he picks up the pencil and the notebook, opening to a fresh page.
 He asks what you want and God, thatâs a harder question.Â
You do your best to express your idea, but your words feel halting and silly. His pencil scratches rapidly at the paper as he listens in total silenceâpausing only once, when you say that you want this to be a sternum piece. Only then does his pencil seem to hover over the paper, his dark eyes seeking you out and pinning you in place on the armchair.Â
He reaches for his tea to take a generous sip and then continues writing.Â
He asks a few pointed, concise questions (and youâre just thrilled he was actually listening), following your answers up with more scribbling in his notebook. At length, he shuts the book.Â
âI think I see the vision. Give me thirty to sketch something and weâll see if you want to book an appointment. Something this size, on your sternum could take more than one session, depending on how well you sit. How do you take pain?âÂ
âI mean, it hurts?â you offer.Â
He stares. âTwo sessions. Let me sketch something. Drink your water.âÂ
You think that maybe heâll move to another room to sketch, but he just flips to a clean page and begins to work right there (drawing the mask up over his nose and mouth again). With nothing else to do, you canât help but watch him.Â
Heâs handsome, in an odd sort of way. His brow is a little too low, his gaze a little too intimidating to be considered conventionally attractive, but you find him fascinating to look at, especially when he is so clearly in the throes of something he enjoys doing. Itâs almost like watching someone have sex. The thought makes your face go warm. You pick up your phone, determined not to look at him again.Â
âHere.âÂ
You glance up from your mindless scrolling. What he shows you is a beautiful rendition of what you had expressed wanting. There are a few key differences, and he patiently explains why he made the decisions he did. He didnât make the changes because he thought your idea was stupid. He made them so the image would better fit the contours of your body. He made them because the ink will spread over time, and he wants the look to stay clean.Â
His thoughtfulness touches you.Â
âI love it. I want it,â you say, enthusiasm getting the better of you.Â
âThis is just a first sketch,â he says dryly, making that warmth return to your face. âIâll text you a few variations this week, and we can nail down the final piece. You want to book?âÂ
âYes,â you say, nearly buzzing. âI really want to book.â
Heâs expensiveâbut judging by the book of his artwork that is available for you to flip through at the front desk while he quotes you a price and writes you up a receipt, he is more than worth the money. Fuck, heâs got skill. You thought that maybe his art style was too dark for what you wanted, but you found that he was able to adapt styles nicely. You just hoped this tattoo wouldnât bore him to death.Â
âThanks again for meeting with me,â you say as he sees you out. âIâll be waiting for your text.âÂ
âYouâll get it.â He glances past you out the window. Itâs dark. âDid you walk?âÂ
âNo, my car is just there.â
âIâll wait.âÂ
And he does. His figure darkens the doorway until you have shut your car and locked the doors, temporary insanity making you give him a short wave. He raises two fingers and then disappears.Â
-
You didnât tell me this guy was cute, you text to your friend.Â
GHOST? Cute? Iâve never even seen his face lol. Heâs always wearing one of his masks.Â
You chew over this information. Yes heâd been wearing a mask, but heâd lowered it for you. Did that mean something? Did it mean something that you wanted it to mean something? Â
Masks are cute, you say.Â
Fuck the tattoo artist!!!! she says. Maybe heâll ink you for free.Â
Youâre terrible.Â
YouâreâŠthinking about it.Â
-
Two days later, you squint blearily into the darkness at your phone after it vibrates on your nightstand. The time reads twelve past one in the morning. Itâs from GHOST.Â
The two images he sends are beautiful; enough to rouse you straight from sleep into wakefulness.Â
I love them both, you tell him. But the second one is amazing. I think thatâs the one.Â
Keep your appointment. Ten minutes later (after you have already fallen back to sleep) he sends: wear something appropriate. Â
And fuck, you didnât even think of that.Â
-
âYouâre being ridiculous,â you mutter to yourself in the mirror, turning sideways to assess yourself. On the bed behind you are a series of button up shirts, all of which you have tried on at one point or another.Â
âYou are,â your friend agrees from where she lounges on your bed, scrolling on her phone. âYour tits are cute. Let Ghost see them.âÂ
The look you give her is the one the phrase âif looks could killâ was modeled after, surely. She doesnât even see it, so the effect is lost entirely. You turn your gaze back to the silicone nipple adhesive covers again, still stuck to their adhesive backing. Youâve already used one set of the pack of three, and they covered your nipple and areolas nicely, but still left you feeling so exposed.Â
âBe glad youâre not going to creepy Kevin anymore,â your friend says.
âVery glad of it.âÂ
You felt reasonably safe with Ghost, but still a degree of embarrassment about your own body. Or perhaps that was too strong a wordâit didnât embarrass you, but it felt private. Baring your breasts to a near stranger (especially one you had a grudging attraction to) made your anxiety reach epic level proportions.Â
âYou should text him about it, see if he has any advice for you. Heâs been doing this for years. Iâm sure heâs seen it all,â she saysâthe first good idea sheâs had all night, miles ahead of âJust let Ghost see your cute titsâ.Â
That night, you take her advice and text him, hoping you arenât overstepping some weird artist-client boundary.Â
Iâm a little nervous.
You can cancel, is all he says. Iâll refund your money.
Itâs not that.Â
What is it?Â
Not really accustomed to the nakedness tbh. There. You said it. Let him think you some prim priss; it was true.Â
But all he said back was: how can I help? Â
I donât know, you admit. Then; sorry. Iâm probably bothering you with this while youâre working.Â
Iâm not working. Five minutes later, when it seems as if you arenât going to message back: I keep the shop closed to the public. One customer at a time: you. Iâll let my piercer know Iâm with a client and not to walk in. Iâll keep you covered every moment I can. Better?Â
Relief, warm and sweet curling low in your belly, you let him know: much better.Â
-
You bring the pasties anyway.Â
-
The day of your appointment, you are so nervous you are shaking. Now you know the truth behind the phrase âknees knocking togetherâ, as you stand outside SKIN DEEP waiting for Ghostâs hulking figure to appear on the other side of the glass.Â
When it does, heâs like a little punch to the gut. That black surgical mask is in placeâtypical for him, if your friendâs words are to be trustedâbut his blond hair, cropped short to his scalp is riotous in a way that is adorably charming, like he hasnât been able to keep his hands out of it. His black t-shirt stretches across his broad shoulders, and his jeans fit him nicely around his thick thighs.Â
Youâre horrified to find that your attraction to him has grown. Exponentially. Your friendâs words echo in your mindâfuck the tattoo artist, maybe heâll ink you for free.Â
âHi,â you squeak.Â
Ghost raises both his brows. He opens the door wider for you to slip past him. Fuck he still smells good.
âIâm still nervous,â you blurt out, hoping that speaking the truth out loud will help you feel better. It doesnât.Â
âThatâs normal. You can back out at any time, but the earlier the better. Come look at the image and tell me if itâs still what you want.â
Itâs exactly what you want, and more.Â
âItâs perfect. Youâre very talented.âÂ
He huffs a little, like you shouldnât have said such a thing.Â
The chair is a great leather contraption which reclines comfortably once heâs gotten you in it (after making you use the restroom first, during which you took the time to splash water on your burning face and double check that your pasties were in place covering all the cutest bits according to your friend). Simon moves around you, making preparations with the ease of someone who has done this work for many years.Â
You fight the arousal that blooms in your belly at the sight of him doing such benign things as washing his hands, putting on gloves, opening fresh needles, preparing little wells of ink and sticking them to the movable cart with Vaseline. Thereâs just something about a person who knows exactly what theyâre doing and who is able to do it with efficacy.
âReady?â he asks at length.Â
You nod, hoping your nerves donât show on your face. Steeling yourself, you unbutton the shirt youâre wearing. His eyes follow your hands, but there is a detached, clinical sort of expression in them. Heâs not watching a strip tease, heâs looking at a canvas.Â
Finally, you sit in front of him in only the pasties, the shirt lax around your shoulders, and your sweatpants, socked toes curling in anxiety in your shoes. Without missing a beat, he leans the chair all the way back. Then he opens a fresh disposable razor and shaves you.Â
âAm I hairy?â you ask, resting your hands oh-so-casually over your breasts to keep them out of his way.Â
âYes,â he says. Then his eyes flicker to yours. âEveryone is. Everywhere. Itâs normal.â
âIâm just teasing you.âÂ
âDidnât think you had the breath in your body left to tease me,â he mutters, voice nearly lost behind his mask as he carefully works the razor across your skin removing the baby-fine hairs from beneath your breasts and across your sternum. âYouâre nervous, I mean.âÂ
âWould you take the mask off?â you ask on a whim. It had helped last time, to see his face.Â
âNo,â he says. He adds: âSorry. Itâs more sanitary fâyou if I keep it on.âÂ
You get the feeling that he really is sorryâand thatâs well enough. Some of the anxiety in your belly fades away. He would take it off if he could. The most anxious part of the process (baring yourself to a stranger) has already passed. Maybe now you can begin to relax.Â
After cleaning your skin, he carefully lays the stencil and has you stand up to look at it in the mirror and make sure the placement is correct and holy fucking shit. Itâs sexy. Youâve always been attracted to tattoos, and fancied the idea of getting one on your sternum for far longer than youâd ever admitted to anyone, but seeing it come to life gives you a rush you hadnât expected. You feel soâŠbadass.Â
âGood?â He asks.Â
âVery good,â you answer, sitting back down, hoping he ignores the way your breasts bounce a little as you do. He leans you back again and this time breaks out the needle gun.
But before he uses it on you, he carefully takes a clean towel and lays it over your left breast, covering the parts of you that are not nearest to his eyes. His gentleness and thoughtfulness go straight to your cunt.Â
âThank you,â you say softly.Â
He just nods. The gun buzzes to life. âIâll make a line and see how you feel. Last chance to back out without any souvenirs.âÂ
âIâm not backing out.âÂ
He clicks his tongue as if to say, Itâs your funeral. Then he lays his hand on your sternum above your breasts, pinning you in place, and makes a gentle line.Â
It burns more than you expected it to. Thereâs a sandpaper quality to it, almost like the rasping of a catâs tongue. The pain is sharp and bright, but it isnât overwhelming. In factâŠa strange part of you sort of enjoys it. Maybe itâs the rush of endorphins.Â
âGood?â He asks.Â
âGood,â you squeak.Â
You hear his quiet laugh, no more than an exhale of breath.
âLet me know when you need to break.âÂ
You donât know how you feel about the way he phrases that: when you need to break. He adjusts his mask a little, leans over you, and gets to work. Sometimes the needles pass over a place that is more sensitive than the others, making you flinch. He pauses when this happens, eyes flickering up to your own, making sure you are alright even though he can likely feel the pounding of your heart beneath his hand. That hand on your chest, wrist just brushing the top of your breast, is a solid warm weight that seems to tether you back down to the earth as he lines you. He is very careful not to brush against your breast when he wipes away the excess ink and traces of blood, but you feel hyper-attuned to how easy it would be for him if he wanted to. How huge his hand is compared to your tit. Beneath the pasties, your nipples ache with tension, a tension that is mirrored between your legs.Â
âAlright. Break,â he says, abruptly turning the gun off. He covers your exposed breast with another towel. âTake ten.â
He disposes of his gloves and disappears behind a curtain in the back, leaving you throbbing between the legs. Worming your phone free from your pocket, you scroll aimlessly, hoping to calm your raging hormones. He returns right at the ten minute mark, just as his cellphone rings. He glances toward where it rests on the table, but makes no move to answer it.Â
âDo you need to get that?â you ask, offering him an out.
âNo,â he says. âI make everyone leave a message. Weeds out the cowards.â
It had almost weeded out you, you think about telling him, but in the end you decide against it. He gloves back up.Â
âGood for more?â
And so it repeats.Â
At one point, he runs into a patch of sensitive skin on your ribs just overlaying the bone. It has you sucking in a breath through your teeth, eyes squeezing shut. Itâs too late to turn back now you tell yourself; the only way out is through.Â
His thumb gently strokes your sternum.Â
âItâs rough. You can take it,â he says, quiet and focused. The buzzing of the gun never ceases as he tries to make his work as quick as possible, his words a little distant and distracted. âJust keep breathing. Thatâs it. Good girl.â
Jesus. Did he not have any idea what those words could do to a girl? A groan escapes your lips, and he clearly mistakes it for pain, because his thumb strokes again the soft skin over your heart, just above the curve of your breast.Â
âYou can do it. Just a little longer for me, and weâll break.â
âHurts,â you breathe, flinching again.Â
He hushes you, surprisingly tender.Â
âThis is the worst of it.â This time, his thumb does brush the edge of your breast, making you suck in a gasp. He recoils, hand lifting away from you and curling into a fist. He rests that against you instead, taking away any further hope that he might brush his fingertips against you. You make it through the rough patch with tears in your eyes but no worse for wear. Â
âBreak. Ten minutes,â he says again, already shredding his gloves and moving to disappear behind the curtain.Â
You call out: âHey, waitâIâd rather just get through it in one go if I can. If this really is the worst of it.âÂ
âI need breaks too,â he says stonily.
You duck your head, feeling silly. âRight. Sorry.â
âDonât be.â He vanishes again.Â
He is late to return to you. Only by five minutes or so, but noticeably for a man so usually punctual and so demanding of punctuality in you. His face is stoicâwhat bits of it you can see from behind the maskâas he washes his hands thoroughly and preps his work station again.Â
This time his hand keeps a very respectable distance from your breastsâa fact which you both lament and appreciate all in one. He works with single-minded efficiency, giving you his entire focus. You break once more, but this time he breaks in the room with you, stretching out his back and neck (giving you a generous glimpse of his belly when his shirt rides up, exposing cut abs and a happy trail youâd give your life to follow).Â
âI think we could do this in one sitting, if you have nowhere else to be,â he mutters at length.Â
âEager to be done?â you wonder.Â
He stares at you, expression flat, and says nothing. Nothing needs to be said.Â
âI donât have anywhere to be,â you murmur, staring up at the bright adjustable light that he has positioned over you. You hope he mistakes that for the reason behind any mistiness in your eyes, his rudeness cutting you deeply.Â
So the two of you push through later into the evening, until you are sweating at your temples and the base of your neck from the continuous pain for so long. At last he lays the last gradient for the shading, sprays you down, and wipes you clean so very gently.Â
âGo take a look. Iâm going to cover it up.âÂ
Itâs beautiful. Stunning, even. You let your shirt gape closed and cover the pasties, revealing a broad glimpse of the sternum tattoo, and it is the sexiest you have ever felt. It almost makes your eyes burn anew.
âI love it,â you choke out. âThank you.â
âCan I take a picture of it?â he asks. âFor Instagram.âÂ
âSure!â It will feel a little like being famous, you think, judging by how much notice each of the photos on his Instagram garners. He crouches down on the floor to be at the perfect height, reaches out and gently adjusts your shirt. Parts of the tattoo are coveredâthe very far edgesâbut you canât deny how sexy it is. Maybe he feels the same way.Â
After he takes the photo, he posts it and asks for your handle to tag you in it. Then he says: âLet me cover it up. Keep it covered overnight, but tomorrow let it breathe. Keep it clean. Donât do anything stupid to it. Understand?âÂ
âI understand.â
âAnd if you have any questionsâtext me.âÂ
-
You get home to find that Ghostâs personal account has requested to follow you. Thrumming with nerves and excitement, you accept the request and send one of your own, spending the night scrolling through his Instagram (so, so carefully to avoid any incidental âlikesâ). Plenty of the photos are of his artwork, still. But there are ones of his dog: a German Shepherd that is thankfully much more photogenic than her surly owner. There are three or four photos featuring Ghost himself, and only one has his full face in the picture. You find yourself staring at his fixated expression for longer than is respectable.Â
-
Three days later when you find yourself panicking, you donât text him like he asked you to. You call.Â
Your skin is peeling off. Peeling. Off. The sight of it makes your stomach roll. The entire tattoo is hot to the touch, and the skin around it feels warm as well. Flushed. Is it supposed to hurt this much?Â
The internet doesnât help. The peeling is normal, sure. But everything else is suggesting that your tattoo could be infected. What sort of ink did Ghost use? Was it reputable? What if the infection reaches your bloodstream? You were too young to die! Your anxiety spirals like a plane with one wing, trailing smoke as it soars straight down, determined to take you with it.  Â
With shaking hands, you donât even think about texting Ghost. You go straight to calling him, tapping his number in your phone and pressing it to your ear, listening to the ring.Â
Heâs going to send you to voicemail, just like he does to everyone elseâexcept he doesnât. All the sudden there is glorious feedback from the other end: a cacophony of voices and laughter, clearly some sort of gathering.Â
âYes?â Ghost says into the phone, as if thatâs a decent hello.Â
âThereâs something wrong with my tattoo!â you cry.Â
âWaitâget out of my goddamn way.â There is rustling, and then the noise decreases substantially. You can almost see him standing outside whatever bar his friends have brought him to, mask down around his chin, hand over his other ear as he strains to listen to you. âSay it again. Now I can fucking hear you.â
âThereâs. Something. Wrong,â you say through your teeth. âWith my tattoo!â
âWell? What is it?â
âItâs falling off, for one!â
He snorts. âThatâs normal. That's why you called?âÂ
âItâs all swollen and hot. And it hurts.âÂ
Now that shuts him up. He sighs a little, switches the phone from one ear to the other. âHurts how bad?â
âWorse than getting it.âÂ
âFuck me. Alright. Meet me at the shop inâŠtwenty?âÂ
âTwenty minutes from now?âÂ
âFrom when else?â He hangs up. Man doesnât know the meaning of the word goodbye.Â
-
The night is cool. You donât bother with a bra, not when it irritates your tattoo so much. Pulling your jacket closed more tightly around yourself, you walk from your parking spot along the street to the tattoo shop.Â
Ghost stands outside at the curb. His figure is unmistakable. He is smoking, mask down, the lit end of his cigarette a burning ember that flares bright in the darkness. When he sees you coming, he crushes the cigarette beneath his boot and opens the door to the shop, which is still and dark. He flicks on a light switch as he goes, casting the place in a warm glow.Â
Heâs dressed in his usual dark jeans and an obscenely tight t-shirt, his sleeve of tattoos on display. He leaves the mask down. His eyes are on your titsâor resting where your tattoo is beneath your clothes.Â
âWell. Sit. Show me.â
You sit in one of the armchairs, your shoulders rising in defensiveness. âWhat, just flash you?â
âNothing Iâve never seen before.âÂ
Gritting your teeth, you begin unbuttoning your shirt until it gapes open. You cup your breasts with your hands, maintaining your modesty while putting the tattoo on full display. He narrows his eyes, leaning down. His fingers reach out, but then he thinks twice and washes his hands.Â
âI was smoking,â he says when you roll your eyes in exasperation.Â
âYouâre worried about getting the chemicals on my skin but not in your lungs?â
âFuck my lungs,â he mutters. His fingers hover over your tattoo. âCan I?â
You nod. His fingers are cool when they gently prod and ghost along the edges of the tattoo, feeling for the signature warmth of an infection. âAny fever?â he asks.Â
âNot that Iâve noticed.âÂ
âYou feel warm, but Iâve felt warmer. I donât think itâs infected. Have you tried icing it?â
âNo,â you admit.Â
âIce will help. Just use something clean, for fuckâs sake.â As he speaks, his breath fans across your chest, making you shiver. He sees this, his eyes darkening. âWhen you called, I thought it was for me.â
âIt was for you,â you say, brow furrowing. âWho else?â
He snorts, lips quirking. It tugs on the scar across his lips. âForget it.âÂ
âForget what?âÂ
âTalking about it goes against forgetting it.â
You groan, tossing up your hands. âYouâre impossible.âÂ
He reaches out and jerks your shirt closed, hastily doing up a button. Your face burns as you do up the rest of the buttonsâyou end up having to backtrack and redo them because he was off by one.Â
âThank you for meeting me. Iâm sorry it was for nothing.â
âIt wasnât for nothing,â he says. âAnd I wasnât doing much.â
âYou were with friends,â you insist.
His eyes narrow. âWho told you that?âÂ
âI saw it on your Instagram tonight.âÂ
âNosey.âÂ
âI could buy you a drink sometime,â you offer after a lengthy pause, your heart pounding loud enough to fill the silence between you. Are you really doing this? Are you really asking him out? âMake up for the ones I lost you tonight.âÂ
âMaybe.â
God, itâs like heâs not getting it. Maybe you need to be bolder. Fortune favors the bold, doesnât it? Your hands are shaking when they fall back to the buttons on your shirt.Â
âWould you take one more look at my tattoo? Just to beâŠpositive?â
He sighs and makes an impatient hand gesture. Your fingers fumble through the buttons again. You donât cover yourself with your hands this time; just keep the halves of your shirt over your nipples. He dutifully exams the tattoo again, prodding gently, laying the flat of his fingers against it to feel the warmth it lets off.Â
âMaybe you should look closer.âÂ
His eyes flicker up to yours. âCloser.â
Your mouth is dry. âYeah.â
âCanât get much closer than I am.âÂ
âYou couldâif you wanted to.âÂ
âIf Iââ it hits him then. You can see it in the fractional widening of his eyes, the way his mouth parts softly in blatant surprise before he shuts it, dark eyes returning to your sternum. He says: âCloser.â
âMhm.â
The back of his hand brushes against your breast, causing your breath to hitch. His thumb traces softly along the outline of the tattoo, following the path just beneath your shirt, nudging the fabric aside slowly, so slowly, until your breast is bare, nipple puckered and aching.Â
âFucking hell,â he mutters. His eyes flicker to yours as if to see if you really want thisâand whatever he sees must reassure him, because then he is sweeping his fingertips along the bottom curve of your breast and taking it into his hand, his palm rasping gently over your nipple. All the breath rushes out of you. Your thighs clench together. Already youâre achingâhave been since you saw his mouth around that cigarette on the streetâbut he moves with determined caution. His thumb finds your nipple and teases it, pulling a desperate little sound from the back of your throat.Â
âPretty little tits,â he says, his voice a warm, smoky rumble that goes straight to your core. He captures your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching softly.Â
âFuck,â you gasp, one hand reaching out to brace yourself against his shoulder. He is solid and firm beneath your touch, unmoving and unmalleable. Your breasts have always been sensitive, but it feels like every touch is directly related to the feelings in your cunt. You find your back arching, hips searching for friction against the seat of the chair.Â
âBe still,â he says firmly. Another pitiful sound slips past your throat. âLet me play with you.âÂ
âPlease,â you gasp. âPlay with meâeven if thatâs all you wantâjust donât stop, please.âÂ
His mouth parts as he listens to you, his eyes so, so dark. The pupils have nearly swallowed his irises whole, until you can see yourself bare from the waist up in the reflection. He shakes his head a little. âYou donât even know what youâre saying.â
âI do. Iââ your words are cut off with a gasp as he hauls you out of the chair by your wrist and onto his lap. Heâs so thick thighed that it stretches you obscenely to have him between your legs. His hands tear the button-up off your shoulders and down your arms until it flutters to the floor, leaving you half naked. Dipping his head, he presses a heated kiss to the place on your sternum where he had rested his hand during the tattooâand then trails wet kisses towards your left breast, taking your nipple into his mouth and sucking with a decided softness.Â
You let out an unflattering, choked groan, resting your weight heavily against him until you can feel the prominent bulge in his tight jeans. His hands find your ass and grip you tightly, working you back and forth, rubbing that bulge against your clothed sex.Â
âDriving me fucking crazy,â he mutters against your skin, opening his mouth to drag the sharp line of his teeth against the curve of one breast before switching to the other and flicking his tongue over your nipple.Â
You gape at his admission. Had you been? Heâd been so closed off and coolâŠthough now that you thought back, maybe that was just his way of hiding it. Suddenly he grips the back of your neck, where your hairline ends, and pulls you to his mouth. He tastes faintly of smoke, even fainter of the drinks he had had earlier in the night, but it is an intoxicating mixture. Your tongues find a rhythm as your hips do the same, both of you fucking in every sense of the word except the literal kind.Â
He takes one of your thighs and wedges it between his own, until youâre no longer grinding against his cock but instead his denim-clad thigh. âYou the kind of girl who can cum like this? Just from this?âÂ
âUh-huh,â you promise, head bobbing.Â
He buries his face in your neck. âGood. I wonât last when Iâve got my cock in you. Iâd like you to cum at least once before then.â
âOh god,â you groan, gripping his shoulders fiercely as you begin a halting, stilted rhythm against his thigh. The denim is rough against your leggings. He feels all around you: his scent, his taste, his touch. When his hands find your hips to help you work yourself against him more smoothly, a sigh of gratitude fans from your lips.Â
âWhat else do you need?â he asks.Â
âMyâtouch meââ He abandons your hips once you find a suitable rhythm. He finds your nipples again, teasing them with clever fingers. The stimulation has your peak approaching faster, building like a storm in your lower belly.Â
Ghost leans back to look at you, eyes trailing over you from head to toe: your face burning with warmth, your breasts with peaked little nipples, your leggings nearly soaked through at the crotch with how wet you are. He shakes his head, like he canât believe what heâs seeing.Â
âFucking perfect.â You bury your face in his neck, feeling a warmth inside your chest. He grips you by the neck again and tugs you back. âLook at me. Look at me.âÂ
You look at him for as long as you can, but when the band in your belly finally snaps, your eyes roll up and slip shut, your mouth drops open in a choked gasp, nails digging into his shoulders as you shudder and shake in the throes of your pleasure.Â
He leans down to kiss you through it, tongue teasing at your slack mouth.Â
When he stands, he takes you with him, hauling you up until you wrap your shaking legs around his waist. Itâs probably a good thing too. You arenât sure you could walk otherwise. He carries you the few steps to the couch and lays you down, curling his fingers in the waistband of your leggings. You nod. He strips them off you, along with your flats, and your panties until you are naked as the day you were born.
Your thighs clamp together shyly. He lets them, reaching behind himself to pull his shirt off. Something catches your eye in the streetlights streaming in through the window: Ghost has one of his nipples pierced, a neat little barbell through the sensitive flesh.Â
Fingers enter your visionâyour ownâreaching out on instinct. You hesitate, unsure if he is receptive, and a little afraid to hurt him. Heâs so bloody tall, tooâŠbut he takes care of that himself by kneeling down by your side, his eyes cautious. Closer, you can see the scars: silvery in the moonlight, crisscrossing over his torso.Â
âDoes it hurt?â You ask, softly stroking your fingers beneath the pale pink skin of his areola.Â
âNo,â he says. You can feel the timber of his warm voice vibrating through his chest, up your fingers, straight to your pussy. âYou can play with it.â
You shyly run your thumb over it the way he had yours. He sighs, breath fanning across your arm. His eyes go heavy-lidded, tongue flashing as he wets his lips. After a moment, you grow insecure and move your hands away from his nipple down to a scar that crosses his sternum. He lets you, very patient, like a dangerous creature withholding its bite.Â
âYouâre soââ the words are whispered dreamily before you have any idea how you plan to finish the sentence. Flushing with embarrassed heat under his wary stare, you finish: ââhot.âÂ
He physically turns away, expression inscrutable. You canât help but feel like you have said the wrong thing. He puts a hand on your belly, stroking the softness. âYou broken, or can you take more?âÂ
âI want more.â
âWant my cock?âÂ
You nod, feeling like a bobble head.Â
âI want to hear you say it.âÂ
âI want your cock.â
His hand reaches for his belt, unbuckling it. Your eyes track the movement with hungry nerves. His hands put butterflies in your belly: thick palms with long, slender fingers, veins criss-crossing along the backs. An artistâs hands. He works his belt free with nimble grace and shucks down his jeans and underwear in one smooth movement, revealing his cock to your gaze and the light from the street lamps.Â
He is huge here to match. Downright intimidating in length and girth, uncut with a nice curve toward his belly. He grips himself and gives a series of smooth strokes, the muscles in his abdomen flexing into sharp relief.Â
âOh my god,â you mutter.Â
âNo gods here,â he says, kneeling up on the couch. His hands part your thighs, and for a long time he just looks at you, that sensitive, swollen place between your legs. He stares so long that you nearly cover your face, embarrassed by whatever he is thinking. Then he touches you, and when he does, he touches you with surprising reverence. He touches you like you are art.Â
âCanât believe you let me ink you,â he mutters, stroking your vulva with his warm palm. His eyes are on the sternum piece now. âPractically let me carve my name into your skin. Anybody around here who sees it will know who did it. Theyâll know who touched you.âÂ
âGood,â you breathe.Â
His sigh is shaky. Youâre learning his reactions, his very breaths. That shaky sigh means heâs pleased with you. Youâve said something right.Â
He reaches down to his jeans on the floor and works a hand into his pocket, pulling free a condom. He hands it to youâfor inspection, you realize, though youâve had so few one night stands (try zero) that youâve never had the need to inspect a condom before. The package is intact at least. There appears to be an expiration date which you squint at. All looks well. You hand it back to him and he tears it open, rolling it down his considerable length.Â
Then he goes back to touching you. One hand braces himself against the back of the sofa so he can lean down to kiss you, tasting your mouth deeply. The other hand finds your entrance, circling it with a finger before slipping inside you all the way to the last knuckle. You are wet enough and relaxed enough that he slips in easily.Â
âRelaxâŠthere you go. Let me in,â he says under his breath, working a second finger in beside the first. It is a bit of a stretchâheâs thick everywhere goddamn itâbut itâs a good stretch, a much needed one. The third finger has you stiffening, whining at the pinch of pain. He slows his fingers and lets his thumb find your clit, muting the pain with little jolts of pleasure.Â
âGhost,â you groan, toes curling against the leather of the couch.
âI think you can take it,â he says, thumb so soft and insistent against that aching pearl of nerves. âBut what do you think?âÂ
âYour cockâwant itâpleaseââ
âAlright,â he laughs, pulling his fingers free and wiping the wetness on his cock. âNo need to beg.âÂ
He notches his cock against your entrance and slips inside you. Both of you inhale together, like on cue. Just the first few inches have you feeling full beyond your comfort zone, but he seems to understand in his silent, all-knowing way. He stills, working that free hand between you both to play with your clit until youâre clenching around him, body trying to pull him deeper. He slips further in and then reaches the end of what your body can take. You feel fucking stuffed, your hands shaking where you have gripped his naked shoulders, nails digging into his skin.Â
His own breathing is ragged, pecs brushing your nipples with every inhale. The little bursts of pleasure help, until you find that your hips have grown restless, working back and forth as much as his substantial weight will allow when youâre pinned beneath it.Â
âStay still,â he mutters into the juncture of your neck. âStay still or Iâll cum and this is all over.â
âCanât,â you gasp, his revelation electrifying you. âHave to move, âm so fullââ
âFucking hell,â he groans. He pulls out, leaving you feeling gaped. âRoll onto your side.âÂ
He gives you instruction but isnât shy about reaching out and physically arranging you until you are both spooning, your back to his chest. This time when he enters you, it is more shallow, and easier for him to reach around and play with your clit.Â
You arch your back, seeking more of him, pressing your breast into his free palm. He plucks at the nipple, teeth nibbling at your throat.Â
âWant you to cum again,â he says, stilling your movements so that you canât fuck your self back against him. âGive me one more. Then itâs my turn.â
âGhostâI canâtââ youâve never cum twice before. Not even with your favorite toys have you been able to scrounge together more than one illustrious orgasm. This knowledge and your expectation of his disappointment has you stiffening in his arms.Â
âIf you canât, then donât,â he says simply, like itâs the easiest thing in the world. He keeps his fingers soft and insistent against you, and only after a few lengthy moments does he feel confident enough to work his hips against you too. He pulls out too far and his length drags across your labia, the head brushing where his fingers play with your clit.Â
You give a sighing little moan. His head cocks; you arenât the only one listening to sighs. Now when he gives those lazy, lackadaisical thrusts, his entire length just strokes the outside of your sex.Â
âOh fuck,â you whine, feeling that band in your belly begin pulling tight again.Â
He hums behind you, a smug sound.Â
âNot sure I want you to cum now,â he says. âHold it. Iâm thinking it over.âÂ
âGhost!â
He laughs, honest to God laughs at you. Tears prick your eyes from the sheer need (and a bit from embarrassment) but his hips never cease nor slow their tireless thrusts against you, not even when you grow close enough to beg, close enough to plead.Â
He loops his arm around your waist and pins you against him when you cum to keep you from rolling right off the couch, your body wracked with shivers and spasms. The warmth of your release washes over you from head to toe, and you are still basking in it when his cock finds your entrance again and enters you.Â
The position keeps the penetration blissfully shallow (otherwise he might give your cervix a painful beating), but he still reaches new lengths inside you, filling spaces you didnât know were empty. The shop is eerily quiet except for the sound of his hips snapping against your ass and the frequent breathy sounds his cock punches out of your lungs.Â
He buries his face in the crook of your neck and lets out a series of sounds that are toe-curling: deep groans and raspy curses, whispered praise and hisses through his teeth. His hand grips your hip tightly, leaving shadows the shape of his fingerprints on your skin as he fucks you.Â
Sooner than youâd likeâbut heâd warned you, hadnât he?âhis thrusts grow sloppy, the sounds messy thanks to your wetness as he finds his release and moans it into the skin of your throat.Â
âFuck,â he whispers. And again: âFuck, fuck. You broken?âÂ
âYes.âÂ
He snorts. Then it turns into that laughter, warm and rumbling against your back. You smile where he canât see.Â
-
âSorry about this,â he says as he ties the condom off and throws it away, naked as the day he was born. Youâre still naked too, though much more shy, legs crossed demurely and arms wrapped around yourself.Â
âRegretting it already?âÂ
âYes,â he says. Then, when he sees the stricken look on your face, he adds: âShould have at least taken you to dinner first.âÂ
âDinner?â
âYou owe me drinks. I owe you dinner.â He finds his boxers in the darkness and slips back into them. Then, because the expression on your face still hasnât relaxed, he says: âI donât regret the sex. Do you?â
You shake your head.Â
He scoffs a little.Â
âI mean it,â you insist. You touch your tattoo. âI wanted itâŠthe day you didâthis.âÂ
He raises both brows at you, silently calling your bluff.
âI didnât think you were interested,â you admitted sheepishly.Â
âI jerked off in the back just from seeing half your tits,â he admits, slipping into his jeans now too. His mouth curls a little at the corner when he sees the way you gape at this news. âI was interested.âÂ
You laugh; you canât help it. âDinner, then? Or drinks?âÂ
âYeah,â he says. âAlright. Get dressed.â
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start school in a week im going to throw uppppp
#ik it's not going to be nearly as bad as i think it is and by god do i need a routine#but man . one week.#plus im transferring after just getting used to my old school. so. eugh#but like i have friends there. which is rhe whole reason im going there specifically#modtly im just worried abt like. getting lost. it's a pretty big school. and i havent even had orientation yet#ive soent the last like 3 months trying to psych myself up for it snd it worked for a while but mow im so scareds agh#The Only Way Out Is Through The Quickest Way Is To Just Get Through It I Will Be Brave#[said through gritted teeth between groans of misery]#SIX FLOORS!!!! IT'S SIX FLOORS!!!! i could barely keep track of the 3 at my old school đđ my poor poor fucked up hips..#but also the layout at the old one was fucked up bc like it had even numbered rooms on either side of the whole floor#and then rows between with all the odd numbered ones. hated that#hoping it's more straightforward there + i hear the building's a lot taller than it is wide. so hopefully the floors arent as big#uuuuuuuuugh and it's a catholic school so i have to do jesus classes. and my scholarship requires an extra curricular#AND i have to do public service stuff and also i have like a whole extra semester of phys ed required to graduate#like it's not really all that much but added up compared to the pile of jack shit i had to do at my old school. it deels intimidating maybe#mostly im just worried bc my friends that go there tell me abt all this stupid drama meanwhile all last year i talked to like 4 ish ppl ever#but i mean when we went to school together before i somehow avoided knowing abt any of it until at lesst the next day. so.#i have faith in my ability to be completely ignorant of everything around me đđ#also my sister's been talking to some ugly creepy guy who apparently goes to that school. hoping she drops him and i never have to see him#fred.txt
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