#so the whole point is that there's other ways and we will always try for something better | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

notjustjavierpena · 3 days ago

Note

reading routine and seeing javi and wife watching kids tv after the kids are in bed made me chuckle so much but it’s so them!

I imagine they’re often sitting cuddled together looking at toys in catalogues trying to pick presents for kids birthdays or Christmas together.

In my head they genuinely enjoy this part of parenthood and getting to know they’re kids and their interests to be able to give them the best life !

Anything, a husband!Javier Christmas fic

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost | Support a disabled creator

A/N: Will you be upset that this is just pure smut? It definitely could have been more Christmassy but I promise it is a treat.

Summary: Someone interrupts picking out Christmas presents for your kids…

Pairing: Javier Peña x f!reader/you (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, domestic life, BANTER, couch sex, dry humping, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, dirty talk, praises and pet names, rough sex, doggy, spanking, PHAT breeding kink, slightest dubcon, the messiest creampie in hubby history, comeplay, they are gross and in love, absolutely married to each other

Word count: 5.7k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/61468969

Anything

“Are you ready yet?” Javier calls from the living room. He has finally gotten comfortable on the couch but you’re nowhere to be seen, and it makes him call out your name.

“Sorry! I’m here!” You rush into the living room from the kitchen, gaze fixed in concentration on a steaming mug of hot chocolate in your hand. Javier admires you in one of his shirts, the hem sitting around your mid-thigh and letting him have a peek at your bare legs. He glances at his coffee on the table in front of the couch, then fondly at the bobbing marshmallows on top of your drink. You always have a sweet tooth during December, not able to resist the temptation of indulging in the many treats that Christmas brings. You gain too much weight, you always say, but Javier thinks you’re the sexiest thing in the world and it has little to do with what the scale in the bathroom says.

He watches you place the hot chocolate next to his coffee and crawl onto the seat next to him, legs tucked underneath yourself so you can lean into his side properly. The ritual has yet to begin, but you sigh a soft sigh to let him know you’re ready.

“Right,” Javier holds up the catalog in front of you both. He takes one last look at the two mugs on the coffee table, heart soft and content in his chest when he notices how well your respective drink fits you. You’re sweet and warm, a nice contrast to the unforgiving taste of coffee that’s hardly suitable for everyone’s palates.

“Something they want, something they need, something to wear and something to read,” you remind and recite to him, resting your cheek on his shoulder. He feels his skin warm up there under his shirt, feels like he is lucky to have you seek subtle affection like this even though he is married to you.

“And 100 dollars each top, the spoiled brats,” he bites around the marker in order to take the cap off with his teeth, securing it at the base afterward. He flips the first page and the hunt has begun.

“Hey, those are my kids you’re talking about,” you nudge him playfully while scanning the page and it pulls a little chuckle from him, his heart fluttering at the way you pretend-scold him. It is like being teenagers who tease one another as a way of letting each other know that they like-like each other.

“You won’t be happy with our budget when we have a third,” he shrugs so the pages jump in front of your eyes. You pinch at the bottom of the page to hold it steady.

“This one,” you say and point to a Magic Tracks set, deliberately ignoring the words he has just dared to speak.

It makes him laugh properly now but he still circles the racetrack set in bright red Sharpie, “Ignoring that on purpose, huh?”

“After saying you want a whole soccer team, I think it’s only proof of my sanity that I ignore you, Peña,” you say and flip a few pages, a little smile playing on your lips despite acting nonchalant.

He scans the pages with you and circles a tea set made of plastic, “Your husband has Christmas wishes too.”

“Oh, this one’s perfect for Inés’ farm animals,” you tap the page, and he murmurs something about how his daughter will love it. You raise a brow when he lays the catalog out across your laps, moving the free hand to rest on your thigh. You tut, “Well, my husband should let Santa know of these wishes then.”

“Santa doesn’t know me like you do,” Javier squeezes the plumpness of your thigh. He leans in to brush his lips across the spot just behind your ear. God, you smell so good that his cock twitches, “Besides, Santa already agrees I don’t need a fucking thing under the tree. Solo tú (just you).”

You yank the Sharpie out of his hand with an exaggerated sigh of disapproval yet you tilt your head so he can drown in your perfume, “Swearing now? You’ll end up on the naughty list.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” he is the one to put his head on your shoulder now, “And you should know; you’re usually the one who puts me there.”

You pull back so he has to sit up straight again. He doesn’t acknowledge your glare even when it doesn’t have any malice in it, just reaches for his coffee to have a sip.

You use the same sternness with him as you do with your children but from the way your breath shifts slightly, he knows you’re trying to hide how close you are to giving him what he wants, “I don’t know what you’re implying but you’re not getting it.”

“Oh, I’m getting it,” he says in a raspy murmur, a smirk on his face as he watches your flustered face over the rim of his coffee mug. You flip through a few more pages with forced concentration, but eventually, even you have to admit that you’re getting distracted.

You look up at him with exasperation, the Sharpie pointing at him, “Javi.”

“Sí, mi amor (yes, my love)?” He takes another sip of coffee.

“I need to finish this. I want Christmas to be perfect…” You pout a little and he yearns to kiss you until you giggle, “So I need you to focus.”

“Lo siento (I’m sorry), your husband’s gonna behave now,” he reaches out with his free hand and rubs your back gently. This means a lot to you, he realizes and feels a little bad for how he is ruining it. He sets his coffee back on the table and takes your mug of hot chocolate, exchanging it for the Sharpie once more. You take a small sip but decide that it’s still too hot for your tongue.

“Right,” he says in the same manner as when the both of you started this, setting aside his excitement to make you happy. He talks while you place your mug beside his again, “Inés has an obsession with those horse toys. My Little Ponies? We should get something a little more expensive for those and the tea set.”

You light up at his engagement. He knows this is when you love him the most, and you turn back a few pages to point to a miniature stable, “She’ll adore this.”

“She’ll lose her little mind,” he agrees and circles the horse stable. Out of the corner of his eye, he can feel your gaze lingering on him just long enough to let him know that your own concentration is fading.

“Concentration, baby, I need it from you,” he taunts playfully when you’re halfway through the toy catalog together but you have gone quiet despite your thoughts being very loud. Javier smiles to himself, unable to not feel flattered by how his fatherhood is turning you on.

“I am concentrating. Luke wants a scooter but I need him to have a helmet and pads,” you shift a little bit in your spot, pausing briefly and sighing to gain his attention, “I was just thinking—“

“Don’t brag,” he interrupts cockily to make you stick out your tongue.

“Can I finish my sentence, Peña?” You click your tongue at him in disapproval afterward, “I was thinking that if you finish this - no shenanigans - you could get a little reward.”

That piques his interest, “What are we talking here? Enlighten your husband.”

“I thought that maybe,” you trail off, flicking through the next few pages to nearly make him toss the catalog aside and claim you right now. You pick the Sharpie from his hand and circle a remote-controlled dinosaur, “Maybe when we finish this, I’ll let you do whatever you want.”

Blood rushes south so fast in Javier’s body that his head starts to spin. He can feel his cock come to life at the thought of the endless possibilities that the words whatever you want bring, and a thousand ideas come to him at once.

“Anything?” He asks as if he is unaffected but his cock has gone hard for you in an instant, straining uncomfortably against the seam of his jeans and begging for relief.

“Mhm, yup, anything,” you hum softly, sitting there calmly and flipping through the catalog as if you didn’t just drop the most dangerous line. He shifts subtly in his seat to adjust his erection, hoping that you don’t notice anything but out of the corner of his eye, he spots the way your mouth curls into a knowing smirk.

“Careful, baby,” you tease without looking up from the BABY Born doll on the page, “You might lose focus.”

“I’m focused,” he only just manages without letting the strain on his voice reveal him. He gives an exasperated chuckle, “Just not on the toys.”

“I said only when we finish this,” you glance at his lap and he throbs even more at being found out. Then you count the pages with quick fingers, “And we’ve got ten more pages to go.”

It takes a moment for him to regain his composure but eventually, he yanks the Sharpie out of your hand, his voice still sounds like a plea, “Let’s finish this then.”

By the time you reach the last page, Javier has been a good boy for the eternity it has taken for you to go through the entire catalog together. You even decided to go back and reevaluate a few of your choices just to taunt him, and by now he feels on the brink, can barely contain himself.

“Good boy,” you grin after he snaps the cap back onto the marker and tosses it onto the coffee table with a relieved sigh. You sit on your knees to lean in for a kiss that is way too sweet, “Wasn’t so hard, was it?”

You’re too cute for what is happening inside his head but then you confidently place a hand right on top of his clothed cock and whisper, and he knows you’re right there with him in his depravity, “Although this might be.”

He moans quietly and grabs your wrist the second you start to teasingly stroke him. All he can do is hear those three words - whatever you want - and when he starts to shift on the couch, your confidence wavers slightly.

Javier moves until he has you caged beneath his body but you don’t protest it, has allowed loads of raunchy make-out sessions like this. However, he has more in mind because he has already decided what he wants, has thought about it the whole time since you gave him a free pass to your body, but you don’t allow it anymore. Ever since Lucas - and Inés now too - started walking around the house unsupervised and thus into rooms unannounced, you have stressed that sex is to be kept within the four walls of your bedroom. It’s perfectly fine… if he didn’t have to pretend he doesn’t want you every time he looks at you.

Holding himself up with one hand and cupping your face with the other, he captures your mouth in a desperate kiss. It doesn’t take long for you to realize that this is so much more than just making out before you retire to your bedroom.

“Aquí no (not here),” you gasp into his mouth yet still hold onto him, mind and body working against each other.

“Aquí sí (yes here),” he murmurs against your lips, “And don’t pretend for a second that your panties aren’t soaked through at the idea. I want you right here, bent over the arm of the couch.”

“Javi, we can’t,” you shake your head with an eye on the path to the staircase where children could come stumbling down any moment, however still tipping your head back to allow his mouth to descend on your neck. He nibbles along your pulse point, inhaling deeply to breathe you in as he reaches where you’ve applied your sweet perfume in the morning.

“You smell so good. Merry Christmas to me,” he says instead of acknowledging your protest, the tip of his nose skimming along the column of your throat to reach the other side too. He grins, breathlessly chuckles, and grinds his hard and clothed cock into your thigh, “Oh fuck.”

“We should go to the bedroom,” you moan softly as he puts his thigh between your legs, forcing your t-shirt to crawl up along your thighs until your lace panties are exposed. He finds your gaze, smiling at the reveal of the hardly appropriate choice of underwear and the way your mouth falls open when he moves his leg slowly. He teases your covered clit with the fabric of his pant leg and sends electricity up your spine.

He watches your resolve crumble with every slow grind of his thigh between your legs. A tiny moan from your mouth sends his heart rate soaring and soon, both of your breaths are coming out faster.

“We’re not making it to the bedroom with how fast you’re coming right now,” he mumbles through concentrated breathing. You seem to know this already, your thighs tightening around his leg and your arms linking around his neck. He can feel your nails dig into his skin, and suddenly your hips are moving on their own accord. He presses more firmly against you to earn friction to his cock too, the rough denim of his jeans sitting tightly around his length. The fabric catches just right on your sensitive clit, and you try to be quiet about it but he can see how good it feels to you with how your brows furrow as you gasp his name.

He hasn’t had you like a fumbling teenager in so long but this - the urgency and clumsiness of acting like a dog in a rut on his couch - makes him feel alive in a way that his sex life hasn’t in a while. Parental responsibility has come (no pun intended) in the way of how he really wants you all the time, and where he used to have you on every surface in the house he paid for, he’s had to be good for too long. He is done being good.

Beneath him, your confidence has started to grow along with each roll of your hips, your orgasm is building. You look beyond stunning with your eyes fluttering closed, your body deep in pleasure, and your bottom lip between your teeth as you concentrate on how it feels.

He kisses underneath your jaw and tastes salty sweat, his hand going up under your t-shirt to grab your breast. He palms it at first but then skims his thumb around your already-hardened nipple, surprising you with a pinch. It has you hurtling toward an intense orgasm filled with exciting risks.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come,” you say just when you’ve moaned in unison. You reach down to grab his thigh, now rutting against him shamelessly as you chase pleasure.

“God, you’re stunning, my beautiful wife,” his voice has dropped an octave, coated with desire. His dick pulses, dancing on the edge of release that he can’t have yet. Your hips falter but he is right there to save you, bouncing you on his thigh until you unravel.

Your eyes fly open to stare up at him as it happens, your face sporting a pained expression until you suddenly smile in relief, and he swears loudly at how much restraint he has to show because he wants to finish in his jeans at the sight. You moan obscenely and roll your hips through it, trembling beneath him as you come, and he just knows you’re throbbing against the width of his thigh as wetness spreads across it.

You pant in the aftermath and giggle in your haze, looking unsure of exactly what just happened while you reach into your panties to cup your cunt in its aftershocks. You even dare rub your sensitive clit only to whimper and nearly make Javier unleash something beastly.

One thing is for sure though and it is that the fact that fucked-out you don’t protest his advances anymore. Instead, you welcome them and a look in your eye makes it seem like you are desperate to be filled up with his cock. He is more than happy to indulge you in your delirious state.

Although you also look like a baby giraffe, your legs unable to hold you up, it doesn’t stop him from getting whatever he wants. He grabs your knee to get your attention.

“Turn around,” he orders in the same voice he uses on his inferiors at work but with you, there’s an underlying desire, affection even, in the way he growls.

You follow orders so fast that he feels his cock move underneath his jeans, and without hesitation, he pulls down the zipper and shoves them down to get out of the confinements of the denim as quickly as possible. He takes a quick breath when the air of the living room hits the sensitive skin of his dick, it standing right into the air with how hard and touch-starved it is.

In front of him, you’ve spread your legs and braced yourself against the arm of the couch by resting on your forearms. In the cozy, warm lighting of the room, he can see your lace panties have started sticking to your slit.

“You get this wet from the idea of fucking on the couch? Breaking your little rules?” He knows you can hear the smirk in his voice and it only grows wider when you shake your head. It’s a game by now, acting like he isn’t the owner of what is between your legs.

“That’s not—“ you try but his fingers hook into the waistband of your underwear, only pulling them as far down as he has to. He leaves them tangled around your thighs, touches you where they’ve stuck to you and you jerk forwards, “Fuck.”

“Don’t think I’ve been so hard in forever. We needed this, baby,” he admits and scoots closer to you on the couch. He presses the head of his cock between your folds, feeling how you’re already trying to suck him in. and your head hangs between your shoulders while you release a trembling breath.

With a hand on the small of your back and a hand around his cock, he sheathes himself fully inside of you in a steady motion and oh fuck, his balls are aching for release already. You make an impatient sound, rocking your hips back against him to grind on his cock.

“Please,” you whimper at the aching stretch. You have already collapsed against the armrest and with his hands finding your gorgeous hips - the ones who have borne his child - he lets his cock fill you over and over again.

“You feel so fucking good, mi amor (my love), so tight around me,” he moans with a heavy breath, savoring the way you clench softly around him already. Your walls are warm and wet, squelching lewdly with each thrust from how much your body has prepared itself for him.

“You’re in me so deep, Javi. I can feel you everywhere,” you gasp shakily even when he knows he could go deeper. He roughly switches between dragging you harshly down on his throbbing cock and snapping his hips forward so they crash into your ass with a filthy smack. It makes you whimper with each thrust, whining like a wounded animal.

One of his hands slides up your spine to tangle itself in the hair at the back of your neck while the other rests flat on the dip of the small of your back. He arches your body by tugging your head back slightly and pushing down just above your jiggling ass. It switches up the angle at which he fucks you, and it is almost too much to listen to how wanton you get when he repeatedly stabs your front wall.

“Who’s fucking you, baby?” He demands.

“You!” You choke out on the verge of tears, “Fuck, it’s you!”

“And who am I?” He smacks your ass to the point where your body tenses up and he nearly doubles over from how you squeeze his dick.

“My husband,” you moan loudly, “Spank me again.”

“That’s my girl,” he growls while his head swims and his heartbeat races. God, his cock is living for the moment as he hits you again and hears you croak in delicious pain, “My wife takes me so fucking well. You like that?”

You make a guttural sound and try to nod with him holding your head in place by your hair. There’s a slow shift in the way you are tightening around him. You’ll come again soon, he can feel it, so worked up that your cunt flutters around him in that familiar way but it doesn’t seem to be enough for you. You cross your ankles, narrowing the space between your jiggling thighs and making Javier fit even more snugly inside your wet heat. He groans loudly, hoping Inés and Lucas are fast asleep, his eyes nearly rolling back into his skull and his pace faltering for a moment.

“What are you doing to me, baby? You’re so tight, I can barely fucking move,” he hisses, struggling to keep up until you gasp out that you’re close. He knows it is going to be his undoing, knows that if this is fucking fantastic already around his dick, he won’t last through your cunt squeezing him during your release.

He decides to slam into you to get you there, watching you arch your back even further to welcome him right into that sweet spot inside of you. The added pressure makes you cry out and look back at him, gasping for air as he aims to push you over the edge, “Fuck, I’m… Javi— fuck, I’m gonna come!”

“Yeah? You fucking love this. Gets you going, huh? Being this full of me,” he taunts through gritted teeth, feeling sweat on his brow threatening to drip down.

“Sí (yes),” you agree weakly, your air forced out of your lungs at his power.

“Wait till I fill this pussy up, till you’re round with another baby. Then everyone will know how much she loves being stuffed,” he moans, his mouth faster than his brain.

You look at him with wide eyes, already scolding him despite teetering on the edge, “Javier Peña. Don’t you dare— fuck, we can barely keep up with the two kids we have ah–lready. Oh God, that feels–”

“I want to get you pregnant again,” he confesses recklessly, knowing it’s far from your plans, murmuring it amid his brain fog, “I can keep up, I can give you everything, baby. I’ll take care of you, of the kids, of everything. Please. Just let me– fuck, let me come inside.”

“No,” you whimper with a shake of your head but your body betrays you. You push back against him one last time, “I—“

You come in the next moment. If he thinks you’ve been loud before, it is nowhere near the sounds you let out at the first spasm of your release. You shove your face into the armrest so as to not wake up the rest of the house, clamping down so tightly around him that he swears he’ll see God.

“Liar,” he drags his hands down your body again to hold tightly onto your hips and his head swims with how you still have your back dipped, your ass so inviting in this position that he wants to smack it again, “Dime que lo quieres (say you want it). Say you want me to fill you up.”

“Please, Javi, I want it,” you give in during the aftermath of your orgasm, sensitive and high on dopamine, your forehead resting on your hands as they grip the armrest tight enough to make your knuckles whiten, “Please, I need it. Give it to me.”

Your begging tips him over the edge, his rhythm staggering. A few more thrusts deep into your still-squeezing cunt and he is done for, overwhelmed by the sight and feel of you. You are his wife, the mother of his children, and you look so goddamn beautiful speared on his cock that he cannot hold back anymore.

He spills into you more than he ever has before. His come just doesn’t stop, keeps coming and fills you to the brim in pulses that send electricity to the very ends of his nerves.

“Jesus, you weren’t lying when you said you needed it,” you half-laugh and half-gasp at the fullness, looking back at him with furrowed brows and a moan as another thick rope spills into you. He watches your open mouth with a little groan and he slides his hands beneath you to hold you in place, pinning you while another wave of warmth enters you.

“You’re— baby, you’re still coming,” you whimper softly and your body starts shaking as you take it all. He knows it must be overwhelming, knows that you are probably aching from the pressure building inside you.

“Fuck, I know, mi amor (my love)” he mutters with unsteady breaths, your walls fluttering weakly around him, resulting in your pussy squeezing the last few drops from his cock, “I… It’s so much.”

You’re not laughing anymore. Instead, you have become a shuddering and pathetic mess from how intense it feels to be claimed so fully. Javier dares look down at where the two of you are still connected, the sight sparking something beastly and primal in him. A milky white ring has formed around his girth, his generous release threatening to spill down his length before he has even removed himself from you.

Despite not even trying for a third baby - and therefore knowing that losing himself in you was foolish of him - he just knows that this might’ve been the time that did it, this is where he’d look at you proudly and say ay, that did it, huh?

You whine feebly from below him and it pulls him from his trance. He drags his cock out of your mess of a pussy with a wet pop, covered in his and your come, and he can feel the way your body becomes heavier in his grip, your legs ready to give out on you when the pressure inside you shifts.

“Ah,” you moan the moment he pulls out and turn your head away from him again. A thick gush of his come follows, spilling from you in a thick, glistening dollop and his fingers tighten on your waist and hips at the obscene picture.

“Look at you. You’re so full, mamá, taking all of me,” he praises, watching the drops of release slide down the inside of your thigh, some of it dripping onto your underwear and some of it onto the couch below. He should be more concerned with the couch’s fabric but he finds that he is too mesmerized by your body working against his load.

"I can feel it," your voice trembles and you slump even more against the armrest, “It’s so messy, Javi.”

“Let me take a look at you,” he almost feels like he has tunnel vision, and can see nothing but you as your cunt weeps with a mix between the both of you. He spreads your thighs wider with his hands, causing your hips to jerk and another dollop to hit the couch. Its surface is a mess by now, translucent stains spreading across the fabric where the slick warmth is still pooling. Somehow, the sight is enough to make his cock stir and his balls tighten again.

“You’re dripping all over the place. It is perfect. I want you like this all the time. His words make you moan and nod. You tilt your hips slightly, biting back a soft sound as the provocative movement sends another slow gush slipping free. Javier laughs quietly, just knows you’re smirking like the dirty girl you are, “Now you’re just showing off.”

You snicker, however you are struggling to hold yourself up. He can see your head dipping to glance below yourself. You make a noise of complaint and he can hear the faux-exasperation in your voice, “Javi, it’s everywhere.”

“I can see that,” he says simply, amused. He smacks your ass. The seemingly last drops of his seed are forced out of your overstimulated body by the impact, the amount enough for this to be irresponsible towards your traumatized furniture.

“You’re making it worse!” You laugh helplessly, reaching underneath yourself to swat at his hand, but your giggle is cut short by a moan as his fingers suddenly brush against what still clings to your folds.

“I don’t think it can get any worse, I mean, look at you, such a messy pussy you’ve got,” he teases playfully as he leans over you briefly to kiss your back. His free hand slides around you to your stomach, pressing down gently, and he watches in awe as well as surprise as even more of his warm and sticky come slips out. You make a noise, and he concludes that it must be the last of his load, “Besides, it’s not me… You’re the one with a pussy that’s drooling all over the place.”

“The couch is ruined,” you declare instead of answering his little taunt. Carefully, you push yourself back to crawl over the pool of naughty evidence and Javier instinctively grabs your waist to guide you in case your legs are too wobbly. He is itching to get close to you, and kiss you well and properly.

"If this couch couldn’t handle us, it wasn’t worth keeping anyway,” he says when you finally fall into his arms with a little huff, naked and messy. God, how are you his? He feels so sated and happy as he pulls you into a lingering kiss, wiping his hand on the couch - it needs a scrub anyway - so he can rest his broad hand on the back of your neck. He grabs onto you there, a little possessively, “Eres mía (you’re mine).”

“Yours,” you hum and drag your tongue against his. He is so fucking into you.

“Maybe a new couch is my present this year,” you say when you part again and shift slightly to melt into his chest. The both of you look at the messy stains on the fabric, “Although I am gonna miss it. We made Luke on it.”

Javier lights up slightly, cannot quite believe that he’s forgotten, “Shit, that’s right, we did.”

“You don’t remember the conception of your own son?” You tease him, resting your head on his shoulder and looking up at him. You rest your palm on his warm chest, the crispness of his shirt having been substituted with slightly damp warmth.

“Forgive me but we were like goddamn rabbits, my wife,” he cups your cheek and pecks your lips a few times, making you slump even further. He watches you think loud enough for him to imagine the cogs turning in your mind.

“You’re really proud of yourself, aren’t you?” You tut with a small smile, subtly trying to hide your uncertainty.

“You have no idea,” he rubs your back soothingly while your eyes droop. He tests the waters by asking you a simple question, “Tired?”

You sigh softly, “Yeah, but I don’t think I can move after that.”

He is quick, trying to make you giggle, “Bién (good), means I did my job.”

You huff a soft laugh and he grins because he cannot help it. The sound makes him feel like someone is running around inside his chest, his pulse racing from even the softest chuckle that escapes your lips.

“It will become a problem if I can’t take Lucas to school tomorrow,” you note with closed eyes.

“You don’t have to do anything but sit here and look beautiful,” he squeezes you, nosing along your neck, and you hum in satisfaction.

After a short while, a silence falls over you in the afterglow. It is nice but he cannot help but feel there’s something on your mind, something that troubles you. He gently touches you where he knows you like it, and meanwhile, you look shy.

“Thank you,” you eventually say.

“What for?” He asks despite how he might already know, peppering your neck with kisses, pressing a hot kiss to your jawline.

“Opening up the opportunity to do this again… the spontaneity. I know I haven’t— I suppose it’s been hard to feel sexy when you have a kid on your hip all the time.“

“Ay, mi amor (my love),” he shakes his head. He shifts you slightly, caring very little about how you smear his naked thighs with your soaked underwear. He reaches around your back to cradle you and reaches for your hand as it lays in your lap, “You’re sexy all the time.”

“You have no idea how much I needed to hear that,” you press your nose into his cheek, “I keep forgetting how good it can be when we let go. I just worry.”

“You overthink it and that’s okay. We can start slow,” he coos but he has never been more sincere. You have been covered in spit up from Inés and he still wanted you.

“This wasn’t slow,” you say and turn your head to rest your forehead against his.

“Yeah, I’ve never— fuck, I’ve never come like that before.”

“Yeah, you were insatia—“ your gaze flickers to the coffee table, and suddenly, a tiny gasp leaves you. Javier tenses.

“Oh no,” you mutter, sitting up quickly.

“What?” Javier asks, his brows knitting together as he watches you reach for the Christmas mug on the table, “What’s wrong?”

“My hot chocolate!” You exclaim, lifting it up to your lips and taking a testing sip. You grimace immediately, “It’s cold!”

“Christ, woman, I thought something was actually wrong,” he chuckles.

“Something is wrong. It was perfect and now it’s ruined,” you retort, pouting, “Next time, I’m finishing my drink first.”He takes the mug from you and sets it aside again so he can wrap you in a tight hug, “Next time, I’ll make you forget all about it again.”

If you would like to follow my writing then go follow @notjustjavierpena-fics and turn on notifications 💖❤️

343 notes · View notes

venmondiese · 3 days ago

Text

ONE MISSING POINT

-ˋˏ| summary: Failing the class just for one point, and you ask Michael Gavey his help to pass the exam. Tutoring isn't his strenght, neither is yours.

✧ | Pairing: Michael Gavey x reader

✧ | word count: 2.8k

✧ | Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI, public masturbation (m receiving), humilliation, Michael is a virgin and he doesn't last long.

It was practically a tradition that Mr. Bynes posted the results of the class in the (most important) headboard in the whole university, and people practically crowded around the single paper sheet searching for their grades and to see if they were at risk of failing the course entirely. If so, they had to do the mandatory exam which was by no means friendly.

He isn’t as worried as people around him, trying to make his way in the crowd to see the paper. He had to awkwardly pass through some people crying over it before he could see the paper.

He approved it all. He expected it, of course, since he always participated and was one of the few who understood something the professor said. Sure, he didn’t have straight 100%, but nothing lower than 80%, which was really good upon seeing some people had more than one 0.

It was a relief, but again, expected. He shrugs and goes on with his life as he walks away, thinking of going to his dorm and annotating his grades to later on calculate his final average score.

“Michael! Michael Gavey” a voice calls him, as he sets his feet on the grass. He turns around, seeing you walking closer to him, as quickly as you could.

“Ehm… yes” he says, awkwardly, looking at you.

You shared calculus and some other classes, and you were good. Not bright, exceptional or anything, but good. And you were so much better at other things, more social and bold things he doesn’t dare to do.

“Hi… how did you do?” You ask, slightly out of breath as you try to be polite.

“Ehm… fine, I guess” he doesn’t get why you talk to him now.

“You passed?” You ask tentatively. “I… I saw your grades, and it was awesome, really impressive…” You hesitate before adding “I am sorry, I know… it’s weird, but… You were like one of the few people who actually passed.”

Michael shrugs. as he nods. “I guess so.”

“And you see…” You say taking his arm to interlock it with hers, as you and your friends did when walking together. It was so womanly, he felt weird. Or maybe everyone did it and he didn’t know…? “I had good grades, I did well in that essay that everyone hated… But I had one test in which I got 40%, because I transferred badly one of the gross numbers, and before you ask, I did calculate it… But since I transferred it wrong, the final value was wrong”

“Ah…” he says, not sure what to say “That sucks”

It didn’t suck. To him, it was like a stupid mistake easily avoidable.

“Well, I was one point away from pass the course, and I explained this to the professor but… didn’t listen, you know him, he said that one point is missing, so I have to give the exam, and I need like 20%, but still..., and now I desperately come to you to beg you to please help me and tutor me” she says, as she turns to look at him.

He blinks. He didn’t do tutorings on his free time. He did them for extra money, for credits or whatever reason.

“Please Mikey!” You say, grabbing his hands. “Please please please, I only needed one more point to pass the class, I know about the subject, and it was a silly mistake. You don't even have to teach me from zero, only... go over the things we studied and that... please!”

He isn’t willing to do this. He doesn’t want to do this, yet he is weak. After all, he is a man. And he isn’t blind, you are pretty. Like out-of-his-league pretty. And you are prettier closer.

“Fine…”

You lean to kiss his cheek with a smile, and you nod. “It’s a date then. Tomorrow in the library? Could it be at four?”

He blinks a few times, trying to process the whole thing. He was supposed to finish the semester quickly, and… now he is caught up trying to teach you so you don’t fail a course, all because his mind betrays him.

So, he tries to do the whole ordeal as smoothly and quickly as possible. He doesn’t want to do this but whatever. At least you are not dumb on the matter, you know something. He has heard some of the answers you give in the classes, and they weren’t as bad as one would hope.

He’s sitting at one of the study desks, right beside a large shelf, and the library was with a few other students, concentrated in their own thing. He brought his notes with him, even if it was illegible. He tries not to be impatient, as he checks the clock on his wrist.

“Sorry for being late, I– I got caught in something and…” You say, and you were breathing a bit heavily.

“No big deal…” he stutters, as his gaze darts down to your blouse. Logically, since summer was getting closer and closer, you wouldn’t be wearing a sweater, but he didn’t expect… Well, he didn’t know what he expected.

Why was he being so weak around you?

“Sit, I have my notes to show you…” He says, and so you take a seat by his side as you curiously lean to check his notes. Surprisingly, or not so surprisingly, he was very neat in his handwriting, even if they looked like the handwriting of someone in the 1700s.

You are not such a bad learner, and he was rather enjoying teaching you after some time. You actually heard him, as he explained in depth how to have the correct answer for all, as he tries to address everything. You asked good questions, and pointed at the mistakes he had given you, to see if you could identify them in an exercise.

As close as you were, Michael could smell how your perfume was nice. It smelled sweet, but not so much that he would like to throw up. Besides, everytime you stared at him, he could feel a bit uneasy, since he got a bit nervous. Your gaze was deep, and he didn’t know what it meant.

Clearing his throat, he writes a new problem for you to solve. He had done a lot when studying, so he copied one of his. He hopes that focusing on the study will help him to distract himself from the weird feelings around you.

“Here, try this one” he says, handing the notebook to you. It is complex, but doable.

He manages to explain really well, as he gets into the theme and all. You do the work, and slide it over for him to check it.

“You have a girlfriend, Mikey?” You ask softly.

He looks at you, before turning back to check the answer. “Eh… no” he mutters, trying not to be ashamed.

You were actually great, you are very tidy when unfolding the exercise and actually took in his advice, he can see it. Yet, you make the same mistake, you took the gross value as the final one.

He made a circle, and he was ready to explain.

“He-Oh” he gasps, feeling your hand on his thigh. He was frozen.

Maybe it fell onto it. Maybe it was by mistake, it was surely by mistake, there was no way it was intentional. And surely it was a mistake how you caressed his inner thigh so… slowly.

“Oh, did I get it wrong?” You ask, looking at him as if you didn’t have your hand at his thigh.

He felt his head doing a short circuit, as if trying to understand what this meant. Was he imagining things? He surely must be.

“Y-Yes, here… here you took the gross value…” he mutters pathetically, he was confused, he didn’t know what was happening. He wasn’t complaining, at all, but what does that mean?

What did it mean that you had your hand on his thigh? Surely, it was something… reasonable.

“I’ll re-do it” you say, taking the notebook. And you didn’t take your hand away.

He was frozen. This can't be happening. He's supposed to be helping you with your studies, not... not whatever this is. And yet, his body is betraying him, his skin tingling under your touch, his pants beginning to feel uncomfortably tight.

He grips on the edge of the table, looking at the ceiling of the library. Suddenly, he is very aware of his surroundings, looking around as if everyone knew that your hand was sliding up as you did the exercise. Women surely can multitask…

“Eh, well, now… we can use the formula… you-you know it” he says, his throat feeling dry as he tries not to whimper.

“Yeah, yeah. Like the rosary.” You say with a confident nod.

“Yeah… so, what’s the next step?” He prompts you, as your hand is higher and higher, and he is starting to lose his mind.

“Replace the values, a… with this, and b…” your hand brushes higher and he lets out a little whimper, thinking you were about to stroke his cock… yet it doesn’t happen. It’s a pathetic sound he emits, and he gets red after it. “With this…”

He sees you replace the values, rewriting the formula, ready to be used.

“Right?” You ask, with one of your sweet smiles as if you didn’t know what was happening.

“Eh, yeah… yeah, that…” he says, trying not to sound that pleased, even if he starts to feel the arousal pool on his stomach.

He starts to feel himself straining against his pants. It was painfully arousing, and he tried to play it cool. He didn’t want for you to notice, as you caressed his inner thigh.

“I… I need a break” he says suddenly, looking at you.

You look at him a bit pouty even, as he grips on the edge of the seat trying to breathe in and breathe out. “But I am learning” you say to him “I really am”

You were driving him insane. He didn’t even know if he should address the elephant in the room. Maybe he’ll say something about it, and you’ll stop, be disgusted and leave.

But he tries to keep inside his whimpers, since the library was the worst place ever to do this. Everyone quiet and it’s open for anyone to see.

“I think… I..” He hesitates, falling to being able to finish a sentence. He moans softly, feeling your hand brush against his notorious erection, and he can’t bear it anymore. “Ah, please…”

Michael was blushing, embarrassed of it all as he tries not to move his hips to follow the touch of your hand, since it isn’t where he really needs. How could he be so weak? His cock wasn’t even being touched now, but he felt so dizzy already. Maybe it was because, okay, he had never been with anyone else, but it was… embarrassingly little time to be so… needy.

When he feels your hand on the tent of his pants, he whimpers, the sound too loud and filthy that his left hand goes instantly to his mouth, covering it to mute himself before he does another embarrassing thing that gives them away.

“Y-You.. You have to stop” Michael murmurs, the words muffled against his palm as he looks at you, glasses sliding through his nose slightly. He was so flustered, he looked cute.

“Why?” You ask in a pout, not wanting to.

“I can’t– I need…” He tries to say, to make a coherent thought as your hand moves to follow the shape of his erection. It sends shivers on his spine and he practically melts on the seat as his eyes are rolled back in pleasure. How could it feel so good? “I… I… We can’t…”

He seems so confused with his own thoughts. “We can…” You murmur, looking around as nobody was actually watching them. “If you really want me to stop… I’ll stop”

Michael doesn’t want you to stop. He really didn’t. But he didn’t want to get caught, it would be embarrassing.

“We are in public” he says, his eyes searching yours.

“Yes, I know” you say, not stopping the strokes on his cock above his clothes “But look at how much you like it”

He’s already made a small, wet patch at the front of his pants. Oh, god, he thinks. He looked away, it felt embarrassing, his face feeling hotter as embarrassment creeped into his gut alongside pleasure.

He liked it, but he was trembling with a mixture of emotions, and he didn’t know what to think. He was so close too…

“Please…” He begs senselessly, he doesn’t even know why he is begging. “I don’t wanna make a mess…”

Your hand touches him with the clothes in between, but the fabric of his light brown pants was thin, and it felt almost delicious. He would hump your hand if you two weren’t in a library.

“You are making a mess…” You coax him softly, as he tenses his shoulder and falls slightly against yours, as his body was trembling with arousal.

“I don’t wanna stain my pants” He murmurs embarrassed, in a little voice as he feels his balls tighten up as your hand insists on the head of his cock, stroking it through the fabric.

“It’s hot” you murmur back to him, and your hand is on the wet patch “And when you cum, I’ll feel it here”

He can’t form a proper sentence as he feels you hand caressing his dick, he felt the wetness on the tip of his cock, and even if it was so unlike him, he found himself so aroused. He is on the verge of cumming on his pants, just from the touch of a woman. Damn, you aren’t even touching his cock directly.

He felt like a teen, needy and so hormonal. He wasn’t like this fromages ago, and he finds himself leaning on you, his forehead against your shoulder as he whimpers softly, his hips searching your touch as he is close.

The thought of cumming in his pants, making a mess was both humiliating and arousing, as his body tense with each stroke. “I can't… i… I'm going to…”

His hand goes to cover his own mouth as he reaches his peak, a strangled moan coming from his throat and his hand muffles the whimpers he lets out. He can feel his cock spurting cum into his underwear and trousers. He doesn’t want to call attention, but he cums so hard, his body basically slumps back in his seat as he feels his balls tighten with each rope of cum that his cock leaks.

You are awfully quiet afterwards, moving your hand away as you clean it and he tries to gain his breath, feeling dizzy already and so pleased. He wants to hide his face in shame, and the other wants to beg you to do it again.

“I’m sorry” he murmurs.

“Don’t be” you whisper back to him, looking at his wet spot on his crotch. “To me, it was amazing. You definitely made one of my fantasies come true”

He blushes, he feels very self conscious all of the sudden, and he makes sure no one in the library paid attention to them and what they were doing. He moves slightly as if trying to cover up the wet patch on his jeans.

“You enjoyed it?” You ask him, not pushing him too hard.

“Yeah…” He admits, slightly embarrassed but also very much pleased.

You look at the forgotten notebooks, and then to him, as he accommodates on the seat and moves his hair slightly as if that would make him go unnoticed by everyone else.

“If it is worth anything, your tutoring did help me tons” you say, taking your notebooks together to save them in your pack.

He is glad that he could help. Maybe this was your way of repaying? He couldn’t know or decipher it. He takes his things and saves them up in his bag as well. He wanted to go to his dorm and take a shower, and put on pajamas and think about this.

“I’m not great with words…” He starts, his tone hesitant but trying to overcome it. “But… Thank you. I really… Hm. It was cool”

You smirk, nodding slightly as you appreciate his words.

“A bit riské” you tease him playfully.

“Yeah…” he chuckles softly, scratching the back of his neck. “I am a mess”

As he adjust the glasses on his nose, you hum, “Well, nobody really cares but you and me”

“I can’t believe we did… that… in here…” He mumbles, dumb founded. “And I was… so… I completely lost it…”

“Do girls usually make you… lose it?” you ask in a whisper. “Or do you last longer, and I happen to have magical hands?”

He blushes to the blunt question, looking anywhere but to your face as he avoids answering. “Well, um…” he doesn’t want to admit his lack of any experiences with girls “Girls don’t…. touch me like that” he says in a whisper. “So I can’t say…”

You didn’t judge, looking at him, and you nodded.

“Well, next time we’ll see”

Next time. He looks at you with eyes slightly wide, as he tries not to stutter his words. “Next time?”

“Obviously” You say smiling to him. “If I pass the exam, we are doing it without the pants” You say smugly “And… more”

He was so lucky you missed one point to pass the course.

203 notes · View notes

flower-boi16 · 19 hours ago

Text

Octavia’s reaction is 100% justified, actually

So I already made an entire reblog about this but I feel as if this topic is deserving of being its own post because the fandom’s reaction to Octavia has hit a new low. I’m just gonna paste what I said from this reblog here.

So think of this; young girl living in a home with a close relationship to her father. The father is always there to comfort the young girl and even sang a song when she was little as a lullaby to help her sleep due to having nightmares of her father not being there for her, telling her that no matter what, he’ll never leave and she will always be okay.

Cut to many years later, and, suddenly, things change. The father that the young girl held close to…suddenly cheats on his wife and starts obsessing over a random imp over her, even to the point of making sexual remarks about him around her even when she’s uncomfortable. Everything was turned upside down for her, the parents who previously loved each other now loathe on another, and now the father who held his daughter dear starts neglecting her in favor of this random imp.

Which leads the daughter to grow a fear that her father will leave her in favor of that imp, a perfectly understandable one given that it was established before that she has fears of abandonment. THEN when that father takes the daughter to a carnival that she hated when she was a child, he spends most of the day flirting with that imp on the trip that was SUPPOSED TO CHEER HER UP. The daughter gets fed up with this and runs off where the father follows suit. The daughter expresses her fears of abandonment to her father and asks him if he is really going to leave her in favor of that imp. The father says no, realizing his mistake and assures her that he’ll never leave her and decides to take her to a place she actually enjoys as a way to make up for that…

…and then cut to 17 episodes later where the daughter then witnesses her father THROWING HIS LIFE AWAY ON LIVE TELEVISION FOR AN IMP. He told her that he would never leave her, that he wouldn’t chose that imp over her…and he does that with no hesitation. Without even telling her. Octavia doesn’t know shit about whatever close relationship Blitz and Stolas have, to her, Blitz is just some random nobody imp that Stolas is for some reason horny over.

And this effectively cements to Octavia that, she doesn’t matter to her father. He really would choose an imp over her. Sinmass further drives this home with a heart breaking song Octavia sings that offers as a dark reprise of you will be okay, as Octavia sings about her resentment and heart break over her father betraying her trust, for LYING to her. She says she’ll never be the same now and fully accepts the fact that Stolas cares more about Blitz than her. And she then finds out that Stolas was taking anti-depressant pills, making her believe that she was just nothing but a burden, an obligation to Stolas this whole time.

If she wasn’t, why would he leave her without hesitation? It’s infuriating to me how the one time the show has good writting the fandom STILL makes insane arguments trying to defend Stolas.

Is Stolas allowed to form other relationships outside of Octavia? Yea, he is, but that’s not the issue. The issue is that Stolas was placing those new relationships above his old ones, he chose Blitz over Octavia, his daughter, his FAMILY.

”probably called her a million times” actually we saw him call once and Octavia was happy to answer until Stella wouldn’t let her, taking Octavia’s phone and mocking Stolas for trying to call her. Octavia doesn’t see the whole picture because SHE DOESNT HAVE THE WHOLE PICTURE! Stolas never communicated ANYTHING to her, not about what was going on between him and Stella, and not about his relationship with Blitz. Stolas didn’t give Octavia ANY information about what was going on and guess what? Seeing Stars and Sinmass show the exact consequences of that.

In Seeing Stars Octavia runs away to try and see the stars for herself because Stolas was focusing more on arguing with Stella than her, which leads Octavia to thinking that Stolas hates Stella more than he loves her, and she wouldn’t have started believing that IF STOLAS COMMUNICATED AND TOLD HER ABOUT THE ABUSE DURING OF THEIR MARRIAGE. Therefore she would be more understanding.

And in Sinmas, If Stolas ever explained to Octavia at any point in the show the full context of his relationship with Blitz, that would, at the very least, make Octavia understand his decision. Yet he never did. Octavia doesn’t have the full context for ANY of these situations because Stolas for SOME REASON never communicated to her.

And can people just fuck off with the whole “omg Octavia is such an immature/selfish teenager!” BECAUSE SHES NOT!! She’s not being a bratty, emotional teen for *checks notes* wanting attention from her father. Sinsmas is legitimately one of the best episodes of season 2 because it actually addresses Stolas acts as a father and calls him out for it, creating drama that doesn’t feel artificial for once and ends up being a step in the right direction for both Stolas AND Octavia as characters. But it’s sad to me that some people still miss blatantly obvious details like this.

Octavia is not a bratty teenager having a tantrum, she’s a girl that had her life turned upside down and is suffering through a divorce. I wish most of the fandom would actually see that.

#vivziepop critical #hazbin hotel critical #vivziepop criticism #helluva boss critical #helluva boss criticism #octavia deserves better #anti stolitz #anti stolas

166 notes · View notes

ariessunsakura · 1 day ago

Text

Disclaimer: I started writing my response to this in 2017 and found it in my drafts. I know the whole post is quite old at this point and I'm truly not interested in arguing with anyone or continuing any discussion here, but I decided I didn't want some of what I wrote back then to go to waste.

Back when I started writing my response to this, I was 21 and angry at the large swaths of the fandom insulting the intelligence of Sakura fans like myself. I still love Sakura and SS, but I don't have an issue now saying that men like Kishimoto writing dynamics like Sasuke and Sakura's is something that should be...looked into, let's put it that way haha. That being said, what I still find disheartening is seeing Sakura, very much torn down by misogynistic fans in a large, primarily male fanbase, also torn down or criticized for supposedly feminist reasons by people who are often just determined to dislike her for whatever reason or somehow clearly miss important details. Sakura was reckless and made mistakes and did questionable things, as did many other characters who for some reason draw less ire. Lots of double standards.

Just to reiterate something that's already been said many times, Naruto proves that pop culture aimed at boys should have carefully written main female characters. There is the blatant misogyny that's happened in this fandom that anyone can see. Meanwhile, certain specific fans in the Naruto fandom that I may or may not need to specify (lol) have acted like the gatekeepers of social justice discourse in the fandom when really they've often just been hypocritical and selective about the type of issues they apparently care about when it comes to how they manifest in pop culture, or at least in this bananas series. They've often been bystanders or apologists or worse to that blatant misogyny. In light of everything that's been going on in the world, I sincerely think we should be more careful about how we talk about female characters. So when people write supposedly feminist posts but say that Sakura is just the "female main character with her legs always wide open and ready with basically no standards or expectations" despite everything the story has shown us, I kinda hate it and don't think that's good or feminist at all. Back in 2017, I wrote: I'm sick of condescending takes about Sakura and her fans as though there's little about Sakura’s character or the end of her story that could or should possibly resonate positively with girls.

Again, I know the original post is old. I know that Kishimoto's writing deserves to be criticized and that Sakura made mistakes and should've been written more carefully and responsibly, but I still want to say my piece.

It's true that Sakura is insecure early on, but her feelings for Sasuke really have nothing to do with that. She doesn’t know that Sasuke is popular when she starts to like him, so her feelings have nothing to do with wanting validation.

She knows her worth as a ninja and among her loved ones by part 2. She confronts Sasuke fiercely many times, even as a genin. She basically spent part 2 trying to save or fight or stop him, going so far as thinking she should kill him to protect the village. That's hardly seeking his validation.

And that's not even mentioning what we're shown rather than told about her feelings for him, which is a theme for them. It's the way they act with each other more than what they say.

Karin with her chakra sensing can tell Sakura's grief is genuine and that she must've known Sasuke well.

“There is nothing different or special about Sakura’s love.”

Kishimoto gives us Karin, whose love for Sasuke is written as different from Sakura’s. Karin enables some of Sasuke's destructive choices and ultimately gives up on him, while Sakura ultimately doesn't do either of those things. And we can hypothesize all we want about Ino or some other girl being no different from Sakura, but who's to say they'd have had the same chemistry with Sasuke personality-wise or otherwise, or mutual understanding? We see from inner Sakura and in other instances that she has parallel elements of Naruto's personality, so...yeah, enough said lol. And who's to say another girl would've known exactly when Sasuke would leave the village, unlike Naruto? I think these speak for themselves:

One of the themes of SS, asserted in Kakashi's 693 quote, is that it’s about Sasuke accepting love without an overt reason so he can heal. Love in real life isn't always rational, it's about passion and attraction and things that are unspoken and can't always be put into words, which I think is what Kishimoto wants to convey with SS. The emotion for Sakura in Sasuke's eyes is concealed from us each time he thanks her for a reason. Sasuke tries to make a show of not caring about any of Team 7 or having a reason to love Sakura, but is still clearly drawn to her despite himself.

He's literally proud of her in the middle of all of the chaos and strife lol. He can't help but react to her.

Another theme for them and for other women in the story is stated by Shikamaru's father: Even the roughest woman is tender to the guy she loves.

"Sasuke has not singled her out. She doesn’t appeal to him or interest him. She doesn’t challenge him in any emotional, mental, or physical way."

I think all of the above indicates otherwise. She does challenge him and changes his behavior, least of all when he has his first taste of intoxicating power.

He says himself that he has to remove himself from her and Naruto's vicinity to accomplish his goals. And still, Kishimoto makes a point to include this theme that can also apply to Sasuke:

"...she doesn’t know him, she’s doesn’t understand him, she doesn’t even have a basic grasp on the concepts that are necessary for those things."

Not true. She works tirelessly to understand and learn everything she can, and it's just not her fault that she doesn't always know everything. It honestly doesn't matter that she doesn't.

Sakura gets a lot of heat for what she says when Sasuke leaves the village, but shows she clearly understands his pain later on when trying to reason with Sai:

Never mind that Sasuke isn't even angry at her for what she said when he left.

“Sakura was just afforded the opportunity of being the closest girl around and female main character with her legs always wide open and ready with basically no standards or expectations. But I think the worse part, the really bad thing about it, is it supports a Sakura never growing up(...)as the blind quest for Sasuke’s dick goes on forevermore. All the pathetic shit will forever be apart of her as she dusts a house for a husband who comes home twice a year, who has a child who feels neglected, and she is happy with her dysfunctional family because Sasuke-kun’s anything is enough.”

Anyways.

As for her family, Sakura is clearly distressed by Sarada's distress. Kishimoto inventing a task apparently only Sasuke can do leading to him being away from his family is questionable to say the least, but it's hardly the first time in the story that normal or expected standards maybe can't or don't apply. Never mind Kishimoto probably projecting his own sentiments about career burnout and sacrifice onto Sasuke and Naruto...lol

Sasuke treasures Sakura, there is no way around it.

I don't think anyone is saying Kishimoto's writing is always the pinnacle of excellence lol, and no one has to like Sakura or SS. But people should at least think a little more about what Sakura has meant to a lot of girls and how the story actually unfolds.

Just a Little Bit on Sakura and Sasusaku

You know what I think about Sakura? This is less about Sasuke and more about herself. See, as person who dislikes Sakura, I actually think that because I’m not biased with fanfiction interpretations that I have a better grasp of Sakura’s character than some people who love her. Sakura, despite her bravado, is not a person of real confidence. She has low self-esteem and very little self-worth. I think that part of the reason she is so hung up on Sasuke is its a sense of validation for herself. She was shy, friendless, unpopular, and overlooked as a child. She liked Sasuke, but even better, to be acknowledged by someone everyone likes, everyone admires, that would make her special. That would make her somebody worthwhile, right? Of course I do believe that Sakura does have feelings for Sasuke, but is she really in love with Sasuke the person, or is it the idea of him? That he doesn’t notice her or pay attention to her only makes this insecurity worse. Sakura is constantly angsting over not doing enough, not fitting in on her team, not belonging or being someone of necessity. As stated (in the only time she ever elaborates on her feelings) she is attracted to Sasuke because he’s attractive, talented, and “cool”. A person who personifies, in essence, everything she believes herself not to be. God, there’s so much to say about this really, but I’ll save it for later.

It’s part of why Sasusaku is such an out of left field idea to me. Sasusaku shippers portray the ship as the exact same way that leads Sakura’s problematic behavior. They ship it because they love the idea of Sakura being the “special one” who is the exeption to Sasuke’s personality and his greatest weakness and is the “fangirl who’s different from all the other girls”, which is so irritating because she’s not. Sakura is the antithesis of these concepts. There is nothing different or special about Sakura’s love. There is nothing different or special about her as far as relating to Sasuke goes. As I detailed in my previous posts, she doesn’t know him, she’s doesn’t understand him, she doesn’t even have a basic grasp on the concepts that are necessary for those things. Sasuke has not singled her out. She doesn’t appeal to him or interest him. She doesn’t challenge him in any emotional, mental, or physical way. They’re not even close. What does Sasuke even know about Sakura, or understand about her? Sakura, as far as Sasusaku goes, has nothing different or special about their relationship or dynamic that couldn’t be done by any other generic fangirl. Absolutely nothing. Nothing that transpired between them is anything that wouldn’t have happened had any other fangirl been placed on his team. That’s really the only thing Sakura had going for her or that seperates her from, I don’t know, Ino. Do any of you Sasusakus honestly think that if Ino was on his team that he wouldn’t have saved her life? That he wouldn’t have grown to care for her as a teammate? That he wouldn’t have thanked her for caring about him? That he would have left her to die? Or treated her like dirt on the bottom of his shoe? Do you really think that these “Sasusaku proofs of love” aren’t just generic shit that would come with virtually any other teammate, and is actually something unique that would only be there with Sakura?

‘Cause see, that's my whole thing. Can’t say that about Naruto. I can’t say that if Kiba had been his teammate, everything about their relationship would be more or less exactly the same. Or Shikamaru. Or Chouji. Or Neji. 'Cause you see, the manga has shown me this. Its shown me the depth, the reason, the relationship, the uniqueness between the two. In fact, while reading this I bet you were thinking of how different the dynamics would have been between Sasuke and those male characters, because, surprise surprise, there is actually something substantial there that can’t be replicated and receive the same results. Seriously, replace Ino with Sakura and think of what would change in regards to Sasuke. Ino would have cared. Ino would have tried to stop him. Seeing as how there are no substantial moments of bonding or exclusivity between the two, there is nothing that would have happened that Ino couldn’t fill in for. Sasuke waxed lyrical about Naruto and how much he’s always loved him and the ways in which he enriched his life for two straight chapters while Sakura got no mention (except, of course, in the Team 7 picture where he refers to them as such). Sakura was just afforded the opportunity of being the closest girl around and female main character with her legs always wide open and ready with basically no standards or expectations.

For fucks sake, Sakura literally has nothing to do with Sasuke’s character or story arc. Seriously, delete Sakura from the manga and tell me what about Sasuke’s person or journey as character throughout the story changes. Please. Tell me something that would have affected his plot if some other girl with healing powers were on his team.

I’m just saying, there is nothing inside of Sasusaku. Nothing at all. Kishimoto doesn’t give a fuck about this pairing (lol I don’t know how they got together I don’t want any SS in the pairings movie there wasn’t gonna be any in the Bolt movie either but the SS fans are complaining so I guess I’ll come up with something here have a family pic of Sasuke looking like he’s about to run away as soon as the camera flashes and a Karin lookalike child who feels neglected), and it cannot become more apparent how little actual thought goes into this ship. Its just a vicarious fantasy ship where Sasuke is standard shoujo angsty bad boy bishie and Sakura is “independent, normal girl who’s different from all the rest” which is pretty much the antithesis of these characters.

But I think the worse part, the really bad thing about it, is it supports a Sakura never growing up. It takes all those things (the potential for self-reflection and learning to be a person who doesn’t need others to feel worth something) and throws it in the garbage as the blind quest for Sasuke’s dick goes on forevermore. All the pathetic shit will forever be apart of her as she dusts a house for a husband who comes home twice a year, who has a child who feels neglected, and she is happy with her dysfunctional family because Sasuke-kun’s anything is enough. I don’t even fucking like Sakura, but that anyone is defending that anything about what her character turned into is satisfactory and good is honestly some disheartening shit.

#sakura #sakura haruno #sakura uchiha #sasusaku #thanks for coming to my ted talk #you're welcome for the ted talk #I didn't want to just erase what I wrote when I was 21 because it came from a place of strong feelings #this got me in the sasusaku zone fr #they're tea lol #I think this accurately captures how I felt and still feel #if you're gonna spread more negativity about Sakura then at least have the facts #don't spread negativity about Sakura lol

2K notes · View notes

zombieewrites · 1 day ago

Text

logan when you don't shave

logan howlett x reader

summary: you've been together for months, but how will he react when you forget to shave?

warnings: no smut but still nsfw

word count: 958

His touches make it feel like electricity is coursing through your whole body. Logan’s is simultaneously rough and delicate, his actions contradicting themself and leaving you all worked up.

You and Logan were supposed to be watching a movie tonight but he just can’t control himself around you. You were trying really really hard to focus on the movie but he made this an impossible task. The way he was rubbing tender circles on your thighs, inching further and further to your heat every once in a while, was driving you insane. His strong hands hold you in such a delicate grasp that fills your whole body up with a familiar warmth.

As the movie continued you could tell that Logan’s focus was tuned more onto you than the screen. The touches are slowly getting more impatient. Logan has your body memorized, cherishing every crevice and dip of your body.

The TV lights flicker in the dark, illuminating your features. Your eyebrows are ever so slightly scrunched as you pretend to pay attention to the movie. Logan stares at you with amazement, he will forever be in awe of your beauty. He inches towards you and wraps his arm around you, pulling you in closer. At this point Logan isn't even trying to hide the fact that he's not watching the movie anymore. Then you feel soft pecking on your neck and jaw, causing your breath to hitch. No one needs superhuman abilities to hear how fast your heart is beating.

“Do y’know how pretty you are, sweetheart?” Logan whispers to you.

You turn your head to respond to him, but the second that you open your mouth, his lips are attached to yours. Heavy hands wrap around your whole body, holding you tight. The kiss is passionate yet tender. Logan’s actions are a reflection of how badly he needs you.

Warmth radiates through your whole body. Without thinking your thighs rub together, attempting to give you any form of satisfaction. Noticing this, Logan places his hand behind your head as he guides you to lay down on the couch. Never breaking the kiss. His big hands continue to explore your body with a sense of hunger. The kisses quickly go from tender to rough. You place your hands behind his neck and wrap your legs around him. Logan groans into your mouth at the feeling of your warm body on his. Your panties get damp at that sound alone. And just like that he grinds down on you, both of your clothed centers rubbing on each other. Logan knows how to leave you feeling worked up. As the feeling of pleasure is taking over you, you whimper out his name with a soft sigh.

“Mmm you sound so pretty,” Logan says with a needy tone. “Need you s’ bad.”

A tug on your pants lets you know how eager he is. This feeling of your pants beginning to come off makes you jolt in embarrassment. After remembering that you didn't shave, your whole body is filled with nerves. Breaking the kiss, Logan instantly senses your body’s reaction. He looks down at you with a concerned gaze as he rubs comforting circles on your arm.

“Something wrong, darlin’?” He asks you. “Y’know you can always tell me if something is bothering you?”

Some men hate when you don't shave and some men say they don't mind it, when in reality they do. Its only been a few months with him but to avoid any issues you always shaved. Your fear of Logan’s reaction electrified your senses.

“It's just…I didn't really have the time..” You avoid eye contact in embarrassment before you responded. “I’ve just been pretty busy lately and I forgot to properly clean up…”

You look back at Logan only to find a confused look written all over his face. A horn must've grew out the middle of your forehead the way he was staring at you.

“I just haven't shaved and so maybe we should do this another time y’know?” You answer.

Just like that his confusion is wiped away and replaced with small laughter. Oh God. This is pure humility. You just confessed that and he was giggling? Just simply laughing at you? You instantly regret even telling him that much.

“Sweetheart,” Logan says with a chuckle, “I've been alive for over 200 years and you really think I can't handle a little bit of hair?”

Your eyes are drawn back to him as you listen.

“I don't know about any of those boys you've been with but I'm a man. I could give less of a fuck how you choose to present yourself to me, as long as it's you I'm fine.” He assures you, “In all honesty, if someone is giving that much of theirself to me, and I stop to worry about some hair, then I’ve gotta have some issues, angel.”

As simple as that, all humility leaves your body instantly. His words are genuine and comforting. Making you feel desired comes easy to Logan.

With a low tone he asks you, “You hear me? I want you no matter what. I will never let anything as miniscule as hair stop me from loving you. You got that?”

You cup his face in your hands as you stare up at him. The love he has for you makes your entire body tingle. His rough mutton chops rub between your fingers as you admire him. With a small nod you respond to him.

“Mmmkay” is all you can manage to get out under his gaze.

Logan grins as he hovers over you while placing sweet kisses on your collarbone, “Lemme just show you how much all that doesn't matter to me, sweet thing.”

283 notes · View notes

revelboo · 20 hours ago

Note

Hiii! Can we have an update for (any) Megatron, Soundwave or Shockwave? Whoever you’re in the mood for <3 thank you!!!

I think I’m due to update this one. Constructicons are next. Clumsy Heart, Everything Is Alright, and Worker Bee if i don’t get busy. Maybe I Can Feel You.

Point of Extinction Pt 9

TFP Shockwave x Reader

• Recreate home. You keep turning that over in your head, trying to figure it out and knowing you need more information. Remembering the deer, that twisted fusion of metal and flesh, makes you wonder if his whole world is metal, which you guess might make sense since he’s metal. Weirdly living, warm metal nothing like earth metal. And you wonder if his goal is to do to the world what he’d done to the deer. It’s hard to guess what he’s thinking, hard to follow the way his mind works. Sometimes when he looks at you, you’d swear he’s thinking about dissecting you. Something that’s occurred to you more than once. “What am I to you?”

• Head dipping slightly even though he can’t see you where you’re sprawled warm against the mesh of his neck, he reaches up to find you, muzzle of his cannon bumping against your hip with that unpleasant disconnected thought that there should be a hand there. The simple answer is as it’s always been. You’re an experimental subject. His thirteenth and the longest surviving. Because he never experimented on you. Running the edge of his cannon up your spine, that answer isn’t quite right anymore and he knows it. He’d spared you, wanted to keep you even though he can’t figure out the why. Every time he considers moving you back to the lab, that dissonance in his head grows worse. “You’re Thirteen.”

• Which is no answer at all, but vague or blunt seems to be all he knows how to be. And living every day with the fear that whenever he reaches for you it might be to carry you back to that other room. That he’s going to take you apart out of curiosity or boredom at some point. This uncertainty, the constant dread is almost worse than being physically hurt. He’s breaking you day by day and you don’t even think he realizes. “Yeah, I’m Thirteen.” Shoulders tense as he absently strokes you, your chest grows so tight it hurts. “But what are you going to do with me? Am I a pet now? Still an experiment?”

• There’s a miserable edge to your voice, an emotion he can’t identify, can’t understand but it hurts. Reaching up to catch you in his servos, he sits up and uses the end of his cannon to tip your face toward him. Freezing as he realizes you’re leaking again. Eyes welling as tears slide down your cheeks and that noise in his processor gets worse, those memories that aren’t his clawing at him. Can hear someone screaming. Thinks it might be him.

• Breath coming quick as his servos tighten around you until it hurts, until you can’t really breathe. Somehow you triggered him again, his one optic dim as he shivers with those barely perceptible tremors, lost in the grip of whatever this is. But he’s crushing you and not even realizing. Crying out, you push at his servos, clawing desperately. “Shockwave, stop!” And those antenna lift, servos relaxing around you as you collapse in his palm, wrapping your arms around yourself. Aware of him rocking slightly, frame curling forward around you. The end of his cannon hovering over you, as if afraid to touch you as you shake. “It’s okay.” Not sure if you’re reassuring him or yourself. Because he’d zoned out and nearly killed you without meaning to. “It’s okay.” Even if it’s really not as you reach up to lay your palm on his cannon and he keeps slowly rocking back and forth.

#transformers x reader #shockwave x reader #tfp shockwave

105 notes · View notes

affogato-analysis · 2 days ago

Text

I love that take and I love disagreeing with it too! and i don't say that in a cynical ironic fashion, i genuinely love the train of thoughts we're having

don't get it wrong, my take isn't by any means in the history of forever better than yours or more valid or what not, it’s just different and i’d love to have this conversation!

I do agree that caitvi stepped away from the whole Piltover/Zaun plot as in they don’t represent it, but I don’t think they did in the first place. Cait always connected to Vi not in spite or because of her connection to Zaun but on a deep human (lesbian) level, kinda in a colorblind manner. Of course she was brought to see Zaunites living conditions but Vi never really got into the Pilt/Zaun conflict. After Vander’s loss, she wanted family and didn’t care for independence or what not. I don’t think she’d fight against it — that’s not why she joins the enforcers — but Vi, because she was in jail for 7 years and has since repeatedly lost her people over and over again, didn’t really get involved with that conflict to me. Like her mind was elsewhere (Powder, Milo, Claggor, Jinx, Cait, Isha, Vander)!

I also don’t think it’s Viktor and Jayce. Well, I don’t think it’s season 2 Viktor and Jayce, although it is clearly season 1. We see in their relationship the way they try and mostly fail to bridge the gap because of the Zaun/Piltover conflict: Viktor needs them to work fast because Zaunites are dying and they need fresh air, clean water, food, safety; while Jayce gets lost in politics and, per his privileged position, can afford prudence and experimenting and not putting things in application. Both are understandable positions, Jayce minds what his mentor tells him about being careful so that he doesn’t accidentally ends civilization (that’s what Heimerdinger warns him about) while Viktor needs things to move now or else he’s doomed and the Undercity stays miserable.

Season 2 Viktor and Jayce do bridge a gap together though, but not necessarily the Piltover/Zaun one although they clearly contribute to it. They basically pull Viktor back: enough of this robotic magical grand evolution, it is time to come home love. basically. This is Jayce opting for calling to Viktor and not fighting him, therefore putting forth the importance of humanity. This is more acceptance towards ‘imperfection’ and humanity than towards Viktor as a Zaunite. Same as Vi and Cait, this is love independent to who they are on the map. Which, yeah, is a way to bridge the gap between them but it doesn’t solve the Piltover/Zaun issue. Season 2 Jayvik is much more personal, it’s about them two as individual and not part of their groups, it’s not about Piltover and Zaun.

Thematically though, choosing togetherness instead of fighting to impose your will is clearly the way the show portrays Zaun and Piltover’s reconciliation (or at least the beginning of that attempt since the show is pretty open-ended on that point).

So, saying that they aren’t Pilt/Zaun coded isn’t wrong per say but their own arcs mirror the cities’. I don’t think they’re meant to be its representatives though.

No, for this I’d argue on other pairs!

Heimerdinger and Ekko for starters! Heimerdinger, after being fired and coming to the conclusion that he can not help the Undercity as is, meets Ekko. And then they work together and Heimerdinger is willing to bypass the law and there is genuinely mutual respect and an acknowledgment of Piltover’s oppression of Zaun. That’s generally what I think miss from that second season by the way, Piltover’s characters never really acknowledge Piltover’s responsibility in what happened with the Commune, Silco, Jinx.

Except Shoola! Her!

This picture is (a part of) Piltover standing with Zaun. And yeah, it’s at the very end and it’s followed by the disgusted faces of the other councilors, but Arcane season 2 does not offer a conclusion to the Piltover/Zaun conflict. It offers seeds of resolutions that the characters will have to grow themselves, against all odds at time. Whether we like it or not, that’s essentially what the show is doing.

So, yeah: s1 Jayce/Viktor very much the Piltover/zaun situation; s2 Jayvik still yes but in a much more parallel way and not so intertwined with the actual events; Heimerdinger/Ekko yes until it can’t happen anymore because uh-oh Heimerdingain’t; and then Shoola/Sevika but we get one shot of it and then it’s gone.

Caitvi does give examples of reconciliation and mostly they support the show’s main theme: love is always how things happen (Singed, Cait, Vi, Jinx, Vander/Warwick, Isha, Powder, everyone).

Does that make sense or am I going insane on the side?

dont kill me for saying this but i kinda think jayvik did the piltover-zaun relationship thing better than caitvi, especially in the second season. to me some of caitlyn's empathy towards zaunites seems to be linked to her relationship with vi. she's sympathetic towards them because she cares about vi and in season 2 we can see that this has its limits. when vi joins her squad she's more than comfortable with gassing undercity citizens to find jinx at all cost. and jayce also sometimes slips up and shows contempt for the people in zaun, mostly because of his lack of perspective on the issue and the pressure that the terrorist attacks place on him as a council member. but viktor calls him out on this in the bridge scene and jayce immediately apologizes

not only that, but jayce later takes care to include him in the council meeting when discussing zaun's independence and calls attention to him during that meeting. he's symbolically presenting zaun as equal to piltover by calling viktor his partner and a zaunite. given how often vi and vander did the forehead touch thing, it's possible that that's also a zaunite gesture which gives more meaning to jayce pulling viktor into it in the astral plane. he respects viktor's identity as a zaunite and makes sure that viktor knows it

during caitlyn and jayce's conversation in the garden when caitlyn thinks about getting revenge for her mother she says that she finds it easy to hate them, but that remembering vi is what pulls her back from that. and i think it says a lot about how much they dropped the ball with caitlyn's character that there was so much less lasting tension between her and vi in the second season even though caitlyn was so much more radicalized in her position. i just wish theyd really challenged caitlyn on her support for the people of zaun being conditional

#arcane spoilers #arcane #arcane season 2 #please i hope this didn’t come off as offensive/paternalizing/arrogant or something i’m just excited to talk about this

557 notes · View notes

theyhavetakenovermylife · 2 days ago

Note

Could we get a 2003 Raph x reader where reader is super sweet and easygoing, like to total opposite of Raph…and the others are so confused/shocked?

Opposites Attracts (Fluff)

2003!Raphael x reader

A/N: Yes you can. It’s a little on the shorter side, but I hope you’ll still enjoy it❤️

Warning: None❤️

When you and Raph first made your relationship public, the others were - at a lack of better words - shocked. The two of you could not be more different, with absolute opposite reactions to the world around you. So when you and Raph one day came down to the lair, hand in hand, on your way to tell Splinter that the two of you had in fact been together for a couple of months, you could see how the world that the turtles knew, changed in front of their eyes.

Raph had a tendency to get annoyed rather quickly, finding it much easier to lash out at others, instead of having to face his strong emotions head on. He could get rather negative, focusing his attention on smaller things that annoyed him, letting them blow up with ease as he complained about them. It could be anything from the weather to Leo’s leadership, and he could go on for hours, tiring out anybody that was there to listen. How and why you would want to be with someone so different from you, left many confused.

It has been mentioned quite a few times at this point, but you were the exact opposite of Raph. You were like day and night, with Raph being night and you most definitely being the day. You were like a walking ray of sunlight, brightening up the whole world around you. You were probably the most easy going person the turtles and their friends had ever met, even giving Mikey a run for his money. While Raph would get furious, and lash out at the world around him whenever he got annoyed or mad, you rarely got mad. Sound you ever get close to anger, you were amazingly good at verbalising your feelings, starting a calm conversation. You rarely complained, and lived with an understanding that the world wasn’t perfect, and that we can’t always get everything exactly the way we want it. Yet you always lend an ear to anyone that needed to get something off their heart, especially Raph. April and Donnie speculated that that was how you and Raph’s relationship first came about. Leo and Splinter believed it was nature balancing itself, while Mikey and Casey believed that either you or Raph had been charmed by something.

But no matter how shocking you and Raph’s relationship might have been for the others, there was no doubt that it was actually a well functioning relationship at that. You were a calming factor in Raph’s life, providing with a space and a kind of understanding he had been looking for all his life. After Leo and Raph had had a particularly intense verbal altercation, Raph did something he had never done before. Normally he would yell, call Leo names, and maybe even try to land a punch at him or a wall. But instead Raph just left for his, clearly still fuming as he mumbled all sorts of things to himself. When Leo then passed Raph’s room 30 minutes later to apologize and talk about what had happened, Leo found Raph laying in his hammock, the phone to where his ear would have been, talking calmly to you, telling you what had happened. Leo was even surprised to hear Raph admit that he might have overreacted. Hearing that, realizing that you might be what Raph needed the most at that moment, Leo left, letting you and Raph have you conversation in private peace.

Later that day you arrived in the lair, before spending the night with Raph. You didn’t do much other than talk. Talk about Raph’s feelings regarding what had happened between him and Leo that day. It was something you had been practicing with Raph for some time now. Putting words on his feelings or helping him do so, while learning to take certain things less seriously and letting what isn’t helping him emotionally.

The next morning, many were surprised when Raph pulled Leo to the side, in order to give him an apology, along with an explanation. There was no doubt anymore - you and Raph may be very different, but you were good for each other - especially you for Raph. Who knew, maybe Raph helped bring out parts of you that you had buried deep within you. Only time would tell, and many were excited to see where this would lead you and Raph.

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt raphael #tmnt raph #tmnt x reader #tmnt 2003 x reader #tmnt raph x reader #tmnt raphael x reader #tmnt 2003 raph #tmnt 2003 raph x reader #tmnt 2003 raphael #tmnt 2003 raphael x reader

98 notes · View notes

ameliathornromance · 2 days ago

Text

Today had been a complete mess.

First, you’d dropped a whole basket of freshly caught fish, where they’d splattered all over the ground and got covered in mud from the rain fall earlier.

As you bent down to pick them up, that didn’t stop a few passing Orcs from complaining about your clumsiness.

“Great, now we have to eat dirt.”

“Who let the human carry them anyway?”

Ok, ok, alright. You’ll be eating this food too, you get where the others are coming from and you could have been a little bit more careful.

You gave them all an apologetic smile, turned and approached the Chef at the other end of the camp.

“I’m really sorry about that,” you said to him, handing off the basket. “I’ll try to be more careful in the future.”

Chef – who seemed to have heard the other Orcs snide comments – waved a dismissive hand. “They can be as grumpy as they want, everyones’ got to eat their speck of dirt.” He comforted you with a smile.

Although the sting of the comments didn’t leave, Chef’s words certainly lessened the hurt of them. You returned the his smile, and left to go and carry on with your other duties.

But it seemed as though the world had other plans. Your next task, was to weave fishing nets. The camp was going to be approaching a river soon and salmon would be making their way upstream, so it was imperative that these nets are finished.

The only problem being, that as soon as you were done with knotting one net and prepared to move onto the next one, your freshly finished work would fray.

The other Orc who was weaving with you, examined your work.

She frowned as she examined it. “How’d you manage this?” She asked, tugging at a particularly unkempt section of your work.

And with that, all your hard work came undone, collecting in a pile of rope at the Orcs feet.

Your jaw dropped. Weaving nets was one of the many things you’d gotten good at since you arrived at the camp, it made no sense that your work would decline so suddenly.

“I don’t understand… I did everything right!” You protested.

The Orc frowned, picking up the now unusable rope and narrowed her eyes at it, running her thumb over the frays. She sighed and looked at you. “You’re just having an awful time of it, aren’t you? First it was the fish and now it’s this,” She looked back down at the rope. “We bought this rope from a different merchant, so it might just be shoddy material.” She handed you her unfinished net. “Here, finish this and I’ll make a note of it.”

You set to work again. This time, you made sure your knots for the net were tied twice, pulled extra tight and revisited them to make sure that they hadn’t fallen apart while you were working at the rest of it.

When the Orc came back, you showed her the work you’d done. She scrutinised your work once again and took the net from you.

Only for all the knots you’d double-triple checked to unravel. You stared, dumbfounded at the net.

The Orc sighed, closing her eyes and trying to hide her irritation. “Do you just want to take a minute?” She asked you. “Maybe go and do something else for a little while.”

It wasn’t a suggestion.

You made yourself scarce and found yourself standing alone in the middle of camp. What was going on with you?

Mentally, you ran through your morning: you’d woken up at a regular time, you’d had breakfast like normal, kissed your boyfriend goodbye when he left to go hunting and gotten to work on helping the camp out.

Nothing seemed to be out of order about your morning. Maybe the Weaver was right, perhaps you just needed a break; it’s important to have a healthy work-life balance after all.

So, you returned to your tent. When you stepped into the tent, you frowned at the mess inside it. You were a clean person… your Orc Boyfriend however, was a completely different story.

He always left his clothes strewn about, sharp bladed weapons lying on the ground or propped up against your bed frame. He always told you it wasn’t dangerous to sleep with the pointed tip of a blade beside your pillow; But you found it hard to believe when your Boyfriend had nearly poked his eye out on numerous occasions.

Well, putting things away isn’t a difficult task, is it? And your tent needs to be cleaned before you can relax anyway.

Scooping up any dirty clothes on the ground, you threw them into a basket in the corner, picked up weapons, books lying around, as a strange thing your partner had been building on the table in the corner of your tent.

He wouldn’t tell you what it was, all he said was that it was held together with glue and that it needed time to dry. So, you’d left it alone mostly.

However, you did wish he could be more neat about how he stored all his equipment.

After putting away all the books and putting the weapons away in a safer place, you started to rearrange the small parts of wood and other materials your partner had been using.

The project itself seemed to be a jumble of sticks all pointing out in different directions, completely unidentifiable.

It was all going so well. It was, blissfully fine… until you turned too fast and sent your boyfriends project crashing to the floor.

Everything had gone slow as you fumbled to reach it. You watched in horror as you missed it, and the wooden craft smashed on the ground. All the hard work your boyfriend had put in to it, gone in under a minute.

And to add icing on the cake, your Orc boyfriend opened the tent flaps and saw you, hunched over his work.

The two of you locked eyes, stared at each other in stunned silence.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

Your boyfriend let out a disappointed sigh. “I told you not to touch it, didn’t I?”

At his tone, your eyes began to water, and you burst into tears.

Your boyfriends disappointment vanished and he rushed over to you, “hey, don’t cry love, I wasn’t trying to make you-”

“It’s been like this all day.” You spoke over him, tears running down your cheeks. “Everything I seemed to do, just fell apart or went wrong. I don’t know what’s wrong with me, I’m really sorry I didn’t mean to break it.”

Your Orc placed his hand on your shoulder as he listened to your wracked sobs. His hand rubbed up and down your back, “it’s okay, you’re okay, alright? It was a mistake, you didn’t mean to do it.”

After a few minutes, your sobs quieted, only leaving you sniffling. “I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.” You mumbled.

“You haven’t done anything wrong.” Your boyfriend pulled you into his lap and squeezed you tightly. “It’s just a bad day, okay? Life is just like this sometimes, yeah?”

He planted a kiss on your forehead and gave you a tight squeeze. “Look, why don’t you take the rest of the day off, and I’ll go and do whatever you’re supposed to do, okay?”

You nodded. The two of you stood as your boyfriend picked up the broken project he was working on.

“I’m really sorry.” You said, again.

“Love, it’s fine really. I wasn’t even enjoying it that much anymore.” He gave you a smile, “I felt like I was in too deep to stop it now, so you actually did me a favour.”

You didn’t think he was telling the truth, but you still returned his smile, thankful that he was trying to make you feel better.

Hi! Thank you so much for reading my story! If you like this kind of content, you should check out my Patreon! There, I post stories twice a week and earlier than I post on Tumblr. I also post exclusive stories there too where you won’t be able to find anywhere else.

If you’re not sure about signing up, I have a 7 day free trial enabled so you can see if you like my work written there!

Taglist <3

@sunndust @greenie-c

#monster lover #monster romance #monster x human #orc fiction #orc boyfriend #monster x female #monster x reader #monster x you #orc romance #orc x reader #orc x human reader #orc x human #orc x you #orc x female reader #orc x reader fluff #monster boyfriend #monster boyfriend fluff

65 notes · View notes

sodavizz · 2 days ago

Note

Ohms nit the same person but could you PLEASE wrote more about daisuke and his like reskin that was so cute

sorry i only replied now, our Christmas break finally came 🙏🙏 (thank god)

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

Great minds think alike!!

(p. 2) ★ <- pt. 1 here

Pairing: Daisuke x GN! Reader (can be platonic if u want)

Warnings: i feel like this is too short,,,, i'll probably add more some other day.

W/C: 100+

Earth! Daisuke headcanons; (it means headcanons don't apply when reader and Daisuke are on the Tulpar!)

Daisuke is the type to bring you little gifts every time he sees you. A shiny pebble he found, a flower he picked on his walk, or even your favorite snack he saw at the store.

“I saw this and thought of you!” he says with the biggest grin, and you can’t help but melt and get all excited at the gesture.

Daisuke’s positivity is infectious. If you’re feeling down, he’ll go out of his way to cheer you up, even if it means embarrassing himself.

He’ll dance around the room, tell silly jokes, or even sing (badly) just to see you smile.

“Your happiness is my mission!” he declares with mock seriousness, then bursts into laughter.

He loves baking with you, even if he’s not the best at it. Half the time, you end up covered in flour because he starts a playful flour fight.

“Whoops!” He says with a cheeky grin plastered on his mouth as he ‘accidentally’ smudges frosting on your face and clothes.

“What the heck man!—” You reply as you get your revenge by dumping the bag of flour on his head. (It turned into a food fight)

As mentioned in pt. 1 before, Daisuke and you are a bit of a klutz, often tripping over your guy's own feet or bumping into things.

“I meant to do that,” he says, trying to play it cool, but you’re already laughing before receiving your own karma and getting in his position as well.

Despite his clumsiness, he’s incredibly gentle when it comes to you. He always holds your hand like it’s the most precious thing in the world.

He’s constantly hyping you up, even for the smallest things.

“You’re amazing, did you know that? Like, wow, how are you so cool?”

If you’re wearing something new, he notices instantly and gushes about how good you look and how he'd look good too if he wore it.

Daisuke loves exploring new places with you, whether it’s a hidden café, a park, or a quirky little shop.

He’ll grab your hand and excitedly drag you along, pointing out everything that catches his eye, you laughing so excitedly with him for a new adventure!

“Look at that! Isn’t it cute? Oh, we have to take a picture here!”

He’s super affectionate, always finding excuses to hold your hand, hug you, or rest his head on your shoulder.

If you’re sitting together, he’ll casually lean against you and sigh contentedly.

Encouragement King.

Whenever you doubt yourself, Daisuke is right there to lift you up.

“You’ve got this! I believe in you 100%. No, 200%! Actually, make that 300%!”

His enthusiasm is so genuine that you can’t help but feel more confident.

Whenever you two hang out and you absolutely matching his energe and humor, it’s like having double the fun. With you both causing as much havoc whenever you guys have sleepovers. (you definitely do each other's make-up and skin care)

He always insists on giving you a hug before you part ways, even if it’s just for a short while.

“Stay safe, okay? And don’t forget how amazing you are!”

Tulpar! Daisuke

If you’re working on something on the freighter, Daisuke is your biggest supporter.

He’ll sneak you in some sweetener that Curly secretly gave to him, cheer you on, and even help out if he can.

No matter how chaotic life gets, Daisuke always makes sure you know how much he cares about you.

“You’re my favorite person in the whole world, well— universe.” he says softly, his eyes sparkling with affection as you giggle at how sweet and passionate he is.

Daisuke LOVES staying up late with you.

He’ll share his dreams, his silly thoughts, and even random trivia he learned from the past.

“Did you know octopuses have three hearts? Isn’t that cool? Anyway, tell me more about your day!”

You two would definitely be talking about random things and maybe play a game once the conversation dries up.

If you're not in the mood to play and just feel tired he'd probably try convincing you to play with him. (You'd eventually give in.)

“Pleaseeee...! Just one round, promise.....!”

Spoiler: It’s never just one round.

“No way! You can’t just skip three spaces because you ‘felt like it’!”

“Why not? It’s a part of my rules!”

Your laughter's is uncontrollable as you guys compete, tell jokes, and make up ridiculous rules for the game. And of course with how much ruckus you guys would make you'd get caught eventually.

Captain Curly appears in the doorway, arms crossed, looking very unimpressed.

“And what, pray tell, are you two doing at this ungodly hour?”

“Uh… team bonding?” Daisuke offers with a sheepish grin.

“Yeah, we’re improving morale!” you add enthusiastically.

Curly is not amused but would sometimes let it slide with a warning. (keyword: sometimes)

I feel like you two would definitely get a lecture about respecting curfew and the importance of sleep.

Daisuke nods seriously, but the moment Curly turns away, he whispers, “Worth it.”

You tried to stifle a laugh, but would get glared at again.

By the time Curly finishes and leaves you both crawl into bed, exhausted but still grinning.

You both fall asleep almost instantly, dreaming of your next late-night adventure.

bye

#[★—sodavizz]#mouthwashing #daisuke mouthwashing #mouthwashing fanfic #daisuke mouthwashing x reader #daisuke x reader #mouthwashing daisuke #what a cutie

58 notes · View notes

stump-not-found · 2 days ago

Text

i <3 creepy hallway

creepy hallway number one <3

alright time for more home life stuff . the bedroom scene came up as a way of trying to reintegrate the gold statue from earlier, since i just really love trying to find old elements and tie them in as plot relevant as time goes on . not usually planned, but it comes through during the editing stage, which is a fun game of deciding what scenes to keep, and which to get rid of . i wasn't so certain about this one, but i loved the idea of baby ford interacting with mabel, who's slightly older... i need to draw art of it, honestly . they're cute

it's really gratifying seeing people pick up on what i've been setting up as part of ford and the statue, the fact i was able to effectively communicate something going on means the world to me . the rest of the story is gonna dig into it more so i won't lay it all out here, but it really is so much fun . makes the whole writing process feel so communicative when people share thoughts and interpretations . especially when the scenes are meant to be read into !

we also get the closet yay . sure that's not gonna be important at all

writing the kids big blow up fight was a trip and a half . the original vision was a pretty shallow "we're stressed out and out grunkles should stop being mean to each other :(", just as a way to try and push forward the dynamics between ford and stan . that still exists, it's just a lot more focus being put onto the kids themselves . they're tertiary characters for sure, but i like thinking about their home life, and how that impacts them

one of the challenges is trying to have the fight feel fairly balanced between the two of them . shoutouts to my brother and wife for the full ass socratic seminar we had about threading that needle . how do you get a conversation where a young trans boy is trying to discuss his fears about his life and his body, and keeps getting shut down ? how do you balance that with a little girl who feels like it's her job to be the sweet, happy, emotionally intellegent adult in the room ? i'm happy with the end result but boy was it stressful

bill also wasn't gonna be here but i wanted more bill so . he got to come back . i really liked tying in nick with the spit to the little chats their having in the paradox dimension . love the lil hand pinch that was just a treat for meeeee, i get to be indulgent in my fics as much as i want . i also like the fact that ford is under some indescribable pain that entire time . they got a dynamic in this story that makes me laugh .

you know whats funny is i didn't even realize ship of theseus was a paradox writing a lot of the stuff about paradoxes . for some reason i just stumbled into that one . very funny . or, no wait -- i totally knew the entire time my brain is the size of three (3) whole apples

oh man and the entire lab scene i just loved writing . i love including bathroom breaks . i love dipper's poor hygiene . i love the fact the kids traded gold for soda, they're such perfect lil con men in training . and again the whole talk about star trek was so indulgent and fun

the brothers grew up queer in the 60's/70's and that's a major part of their arc . i hope to get across the ways they both hurt each other both as kids and adults . they still got so much to work on, and i just don't know if they've got the time

anyways creepy hallway bill time

favorite part:

“Clark.” Ford stiffens, stops. Looks up. “What?” “That, uh, captain guy. The one with the, he had the big, you know–” Stan gestures over his chest, puffing his pecs out a bit more. “Always had em out, shirt cut off or whatever. Got all hot and sweaty. Great hair.” “...Kirk?” Ford turns in his seat, slightly, to get a better look at his brother. Stan clicks his tongue, points his index finger in recollection. “ Kirk .” He repeats, and the image of the guy blooms in Stan’s head. Ford had a magazine with him on the cover, about as disheveled and beat up as a guy could look, shirt torn open. That particular mag went ‘missing’ into Stan’s stash, and he laughs at that old memory getting drudged up. “I, uh. Was a fan , back then.”

i just love how neither one of them can say what they're talking about out loud lol

Stan and Ford have a conversation, Mabel and Dipper get a bit absurd, and something gold is given meaning.

If you don't look, you won't see it fading.

#gf theseus’ guide #stump talks

248 notes · View notes

nualaofthefaerie · 3 hours ago

Text

The subtle notion that it was SKY AND MEL's joint effort that saved Jayce's life is insane.

FIRST OFF, re-watch that scene yourself. I'm not here to argue, it's a theory and it's something that made a big impression on me. + i made my own gifs for this.

When Viktor chokes Jayce with the "unfortunate" realisation that he is in the way of the glorious evolution, he gets distracted as seen here 👇 Something gets his attention enough to break away from looking at Jayce:

My theory is that the glowing orb that distracts him is Sky protesting. We see during episode 8 that whatever she is, she disagrees with the path of violence Viktor embarks on. The light is blues and purples which are Sky's colors in the arcane. Viktor's are this greens and blues as seen above, but Sky's always have purple or some red in it. (The gif below is a soft merge of Sky in the episode and the orb that distracts Viktor).

Viktor's reaction 👇 comes from his disbelief that there is still something he can't control in the Arcane - Sky, his own humanity. It would never allow him to hurt Jayce the way he is choking him basically to death. My reading is Sky (his HUMANITY) trying to convince him to let go, to re-consider. And you can see the realisation and softening of his gaze. Like he was considering whatever she was whispering in his ear.

By that time Jayce is kind of a goner.

And then Mel activated and Viktor locked back in with the speed of evil light (which apparently he is greatly offended by, like sir, you're killing one of your lovers over here, what did you expect) it gives Mel enough time to gather herself and react physically.

And even if she can't control her strength yet and it hurts her, she's absolutely giving her all to shake Viktor and save Jayce. (Something completely lost in the whole 'Meljay is a manipulation ship'. I'll tell you this much, Mel Medarda always gave 110% for Jayce Talis' dreams and safety, good investment or not)

Anyways, the point is that Sky's protesting was enough to distract Viktor emotionally, so Mel can shake the marionette physically.

Girls in STEM uniting to save 1/4th of their weirdly insane polycule because one full half has gone insane in the Arcane (hint: it's none of the girls, Melsky remain level headed queens).

But all that to say that Viktor forces Sky away AFTER that fight. He cannot afford to let her keep him human. If JAYCE, Vitkor's own other half, and Mel look like they have given up on him, what is the point of fighting for a lost cause. He rather do it by himself and reach the final Glorious Evolution.

#ONE OF YOU COME TO ME WITH “ITS NOT HER” I'll gun you all down #she is real TO ME #she has autonomy in the Arcane #she does not approve of his choices and therefore free will makes her REAL TO ME #arcane #arcane meta #hexquad #mel medarda #sky young #viktor #jayce talis #jayce #mel #sky #sky arcane #jayce arcane #mel arcane #viktor arcane

59 notes · View notes

mint-and-authoress · 16 hours ago

Text

Slime HRT - Full Core Integration

<<| ⏯️ |>>

[The scene opens to a not before seen living room. Familiar decor can be seen alongside other furnishings. Elise sits on a couch inside a small plastic tub, where only the upper half of her body can be seen. Next to her is a shorter woman, speckled with red scales across her skin and small claws and horns. The timestamp reads ‘5½ Months.’]

“Oh gosh, how does she do these…

“This is Elise’s entry at five and a half months into transition. I’m Pandora, her wife, and I’ll be speaking for her for this entry and hopefully only this entry. I just started my own species replacement therapy like two weeks ago I think? I kept it hidden from her to surprise her but about three days ago Elise’s vocal cords finally dissolved. That’s why I’m speaking for her.

“Normally she wouldn’t have done an update this early but I encouraged her to make something, mainly because I think it’s important to have this documented. Anyone who goes through the same stuff my wifey has should know how things go when you absolutely need help around the house.

[Pandora retrieves a piece of paper from offscreen.]

“We did make a list of things to go over. My love is going to be demonstrating a few things, and it is her documentation series… thing, so she’s gotta be a part of it! First off is the obvious: no more muscles, and no more bones either!

[Elise outstretches an ‘arm’ to show the lack of muscle and bone. The entire limb is transparent and a vibrant green.]

“All she has left is a few organs and her brain. Everything else is just a little goopy puddle.

[Elise nuzzles into Pandora’s shoulder, and is met with a kiss to the forehead.]

“All the affection is just my wife being all cute and loving, like she’s always been. She’s basically been biologically a slime for a few weeks now, and definitely passes as one from the few I’ve been able to see.

“As a matter of fact, we learned that slimes are apparently part of the country’s No Fly List, since they’re made up entirely of fluid. We had to do a whole cross-country road trip, meaning four days full of driving for me. Loved that. But it just meant that my little goop got to be a little passenger princess all the way back to the west coast!

“Back to the ‘my wife’s organs are starting to dissolve’ matter, she’s actually about two and a half months ahead of schedule. Which meant I had to have a very strongly worded talk with Dr. Acosta from Something Else Solutions.

“Something Else Solutions is not licenced by anyone in Hyper City. We had to hire a private investigator to find that doctor. Turns out, he gave Elise a fake name and the whole office turned out to be some shady black market coven trying to advance their practices. So, my last week and a half has been spent talking to doctors and specialists and actual fucking witches. That last one was actually pleasant, and I would’ve enjoyed it a bit more if it wasn’t my love’s life on the line, possibly.

“The only real reason we’re doing an update now is because Elise is going into surgery tomorrow to get her core formed. Normally, Slime HRT has the patient go through something called C3 surgery: Core Cell Conversion. They’d take all your organs and link them together, and after a few weeks they’ll turn into what’s called a proto-core, which basically just replaces the organs. Eventually that proto-core absorbs the brain after like a month and at that point it’s just a normal slime core.

“Buuuut, now that someone went and fucked up my wife, she’s going into an emergency surgery called FCI: Full Core Integration. What they have to do–and thank the gods that we did this before her organs got dissolved–is take all her organs and her brain and rapidly accelerate that core formation process with donated nuclei from other slimes and a whole bunch of other inpatient hospital stuff. It takes a week, and after that Elise is gonna have a few gaps in her memory.

[Pandora hugs Elise from the side.]

“It’s scary. But we’ve somehow made it through worse.”

[The segment ends. The next segment fades in and shows a still image of a hospital waiting room. An anthropomorphic boar, a human skeleton with glowing green eyes, a well-dressed vampire and two humans are present around the room.]

-captions-

-The waiting room in the Hyper City Interspecies Hospital. Elise’s surgery was 12 hours long.

[A picture of many specialists and surgeons, human and nonhuman, with a blonde human woman in the centre.]

-Thank you to the care team for everything and an even bigger thank you to Dr. Therkin for walking me through every step of the procedure.

[A picture of Elise in a pressurised tank, connected to a series of tubes, wires, and monitors. A very small, almost invisible mass is at the centre of the slime.]

-This was my wife for nine days. Very glad to report that she pulled through.

[The final picture fades out. The next segment fades in where Elise sits in a long tub in a hospital bed, with an intact emerald green core. A timestamp reads ‘Five Days Post Surgery - 6 Months.’]

“...This is…my entry at 6 months during transition. Or at least that is what I’ve been told.

“I’ve been conscious for five days. In that time I learned how to speak and I was reminded who everyone was. Apparently I was in a…terrible condition. My core was able to save my life, and for that I am very grateful.

“I came out of surgery with near total amnesia, they said. Apparently that is a risk when you undergo such a procedure. It isn’t all bad, though. Relearning you have a wife is incredibly nice, makes the core sing something fierce.

“I’ve watched through those progress reports and learned about the journey I’ve taken to get this far, and to think that all that progress is behind me is incredibly inspiring. I’m going to continue living, all because of the work she did. I get to be happy, have a wife, all thanks to her.

“I’m not the same person as she was, definitely not. I have her voice, her life, and eventually the memories will come back, or so I’m told. But I don’t have her face, don’t have the same struggle that she had. So, please allow me to introduce myself once more to you all.

“My name is Mint, and I am a slime girl.”

[The scene fades to black as Mint extends herself towards the camera.]

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

SLIEM TIEM IS BACK EVERYGOOP!!!

Plot Twist: Mint is Authoress :3c

I've been meaning to get this out for a while and Solstice hit me with a lead brick of inspiration! Mint is now here to stay, but by no means is her story over!

Shoutouts today go to @ariathelamia whose character Dr. Therkin made an appearance to advise the surgery team! Tbh I do not trust Erian as far as I can throw him (and for therian standards that is not that far), so we got a second opinion and went to her!

Next time on Slime Ball Z: going to the solstice and definitely having a transgender moment[tm] with doubts about what makes oneself a 'real slime'

#I'm kinda impressed with how fast I pumped this one out :3c #slime #slime girl #slime hrt #therian hrt #otherkin hrt #my gender #my oc #my writing

53 notes · View notes

ashwritesmonsters · 2 days ago

Note

If it's alright can I have an orange story of a guardian angel realizing he is falling in love with a fem reader that he has been charged to protect? I want to be sweeter than sugar cookies :>

Hey there, thanks for the request! The writing I've been doing behind the scenes has been super serious and not sweet at all, so I appreciate the break from that you've given me! I love the idea of angels, especially the "BE NOT AFRAID" looking ones, so I hope you like it!

M!Guardian Angel x F!Reader

The silver lines traced across your skin like delicate spiderweb frost on the windows. You ran your fingers over the newest one—a thin curve that wrapped around your forearm, added last month when Sariel had stopped you from stepping in front of a taxi while lost in thought. The scar caught the lamplight, shimmering with an inner pearlescence.

Your apartment felt too quiet, too empty. The radiator clicked and hummed in the corner, fighting against the winter chill that seeped through the old windows. You pulled your oversized sweater tighter around yourself, curling deeper into a well-worn armchair.

"Sariel?" Your voice barely carried above the whisper of falling snow outside. "I know you're here. You're always here."

The air shifted, grew heavier, warmer. Light bloomed in your peripheral vision—the familiar white-hot glow of his halo casting sharp shadows across the walls. You didn't turn to look right away. After years of his presence, you'd learned to let your eyes adjust gradually to his radiance.

"You have a question." His voice resonated through your bones more than your ears, like a bell tolling inside your head—in a good way.

"I do." You traced another scar, this one along your collarbone—from the night he'd first revealed himself, when he'd stopped an intruder from breaking in. "Why am I marked like this? I've never seen anyone else with scars like these."

The light dimmed slightly. You turned to face him then. His human torso was tense, muscles rigid beneath skin that looked surprisingly normal—blemished, soft. Below that, midnight black crystals like obsidian glass enveloped his form closely, his slender legs gliding against each other restlessly with a sound like wind through glass chimes. His halo flickered like a candle in the wind.

"Others don't have these marks?" He asked, though it wasn't really a question—it was stalling. The way he wouldn't meet your eyes told you he already knew the answer.

"No. I've never run into anyone with them, and you've mentioned plenty of other people have guardian angels, too. A lot of other people."

Sariel drifted closer to your chair, his crystalline feet pointed at the floor, grazing it imperceptibly. His fingers—long, elegant things that tapered to points like icicles—flexed and curled.

"I..." He paused, the flame of his halo dimming. "Perhaps I should have explained sooner."

You leaned forward, heart quickening. "Explained what?"

"Most guardians..." He gestured vaguely with one hand, sending prismatic reflections dancing across the walls. "We typically maintain distance. Observe. Intervene only in the most dire circumstances."

"And you don't?"

"I am..." His massive form seemed to shrink somehow, like a child caught sneaking cookies. "I am perhaps more... involved than I should be."

You glanced down at the dozens of silvery marks decorating your skin. "More involved?"

"The marks appear when we touch the mortal realm directly. Most guardians reach through the veil only rarely, only when absolutely necessary. I..." He turned away, his crystalline lower half grinding against itself. "I find myself reaching for you far more often than I should."

You forced a laugh, trying to break the heavy silence that had settled over the room. "What, are you just not very good at this guardian thing? Need the extra practice?" Your fingers drummed against the arm of the chair. "Or maybe your magic isn't as strong as the others?"

The crystalline chiming of his lower half stopped. His whole form went still, like a statue carved from light and shadow. The temperature in the room dropped several degrees.

"My abilities are..." His voice cracked, a sound like breaking glass. "They are more than sufficient."

Your attempt at humor shriveled in your throat. Sariel's mouth—the only part of his face visible below the obsidian crystal that covered his eyes—twisted into something that made your chest ache. His lips pressed together, corners pulling down in a grimace that looked foreign on his usually serene features.

"The Firmament has rules," he said, each word falling like lead weights into the space between you. "Guidelines for maintaining appropriate distance from our charges."

You pulled your knees up to your chest, making yourself smaller in the chair. "Distance?"

"Physical. Emotional." His hands clenched, the pointed tips of his fingers scraping against his palms. "We are meant to protect, not to..." He trailed off, turning away.

"Not to what?"

The light from his halo pulsed, casting wild shadows across the walls. "Not to feel."

Your heart skipped, then raced to catch up. "Feel?"

"Each intervention leaves a mark," he said, gesturing to your silver-traced skin. "But the marks are meant to be rare. Precious few. Evidence of dire necessity." His voice dropped lower, barely above a whisper. "Not... not evidence of excuses to touch. To be close. To feel the warmth of your skin beneath my fingers."

The radiator clicked off, leaving the room in perfect silence. You could hear your own pulse thundering in your ears.

"Sariel..."

"I should have requested reassignment months ago." His shoulders hunched, his crystalline shrug grinding against itself. "When I first realized I was finding reasons—making reasons—to reach through the veil. When I started lingering here, watching you read, listening to you hum while you cook." His voice cracked again. "When I began to want things no guardian should want."

You uncurled from the chair, taking a step toward him. He drifted backward, maintaining the distance between you.

"The Firmament has strict policies regarding guardians who develop..." He stopped, his grimace deepening. "Who allow themselves to form attachments. To develop feelings for their charges."

"Feelings?" The word came out barely above a breath.

"I have failed in my duties," he said. "Failed to maintain proper distance. Failed to..." His head bowed, halo dimming to barely a flicker. "Failed to keep from falling in love with you."

Your mouth went dry. The words hung in the air between you, heavy as lead, precious as gold. You sank back into your chair, mind spinning.

"How..." You cleared your throat, tried again. "How common is this? Talking to your guardian, I mean."

Sariel's crystalline form shifted, scraping against itself. "Most humans never know we exist beyond abstract concept. They attribute our interventions to luck, instinct, divine providence." His mouth tightened. "They certainly don't have conversations with us in their living rooms."

You glanced around your apartment—at the stack of novels on the coffee table, the half-empty mug of tea gone cold, the cat bed in the corner that had never held a cat because your apartment management didn't allow pets. Everything looked smaller somehow, more hollow.

"And the other guardians? Do they ever...?"

"No." His voice cut through the air like a knife. "We are meant to be distant protectors. Silent watchers." His halo flickered. "Not... whatever I have become."

The radiator kicked back on with a clang that made you jump. Outside, snow continued to fall in absolute silence. No cars passed by—everyone else was tucked away in their homes, probably sharing dinner with family or cuddling with lovers on the couch.

"I've never..." The words stuck in your throat. You swallowed hard. "No one has ever..."

Sariel drifted closer despite himself, his light casting warm shadows across your face. "I know."

Heat rushed to your cheeks. Of course he knew. He'd been there through every awkward first date that went nowhere, every crush that fizzled out, every lonely night scrolling dating apps until your eyes hurt. Sariel had been there, observing.

"That's kind of pathetic, isn't it?" You forced a laugh. "The first person to fall in love with me isn't even a person."

"You are not pathetic." The temperature in the room spiked, his halo flaring bright enough to make you squint. "You are brilliant and kind and..." He caught himself, dimming again. "And I should not be saying these things."

You stood up, legs shaky. "Why not? You've already broken all the other rules, apparently."

"Because." His voice dropped lower, resonating in your chest. "Because every word makes it harder to maintain what little distance remains between us."

The silver scars across your skin seemed to pulse with their own light. You counted them—twenty-three visible ones, plus however many were hidden under your clothes. Twenty-three times he'd reached across the veil just to touch you.

You stared at your scarred arms, mind racing to process everything Sariel had just confessed. The weight of his words pressed against your chest, making it hard to breathe. Love. He'd said love. The word felt too big, too new; like someone had just tasked you with unraveling a riddle. You had no idea where to start.

"These marks," you said instead, running your fingers over a particularly prominent scar that wrapped around your wrist. "Do they show up every time you touch me?"

Sariel's crystalline lower half shifted, the obsidian fragments catching the light from his dimmed halo. "Not necessarily. Only when I reach through the veil to intervene. To save you from harm." His mouth curved into something that wasn't quite a smile. "I may have rationalized undue necessity during those interventions."

"So you could..." Your throat went dry. "You could touch me right now? Without marking me?"

The temperature in the room fluctuated wildly—hot then cold then hot again. Sariel's halo pulsed with each shift.

"I could," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

You stood up from your chair, legs trembling. The distance between you felt like miles and millimeters all at once. His hand hung at his side, those long crystalline fingers catching the light from his halo, throwing rainbow refractions across the walls.

Your own hand rose, hovering in the space between you. "Can I...?"

He didn't move, didn't speak, but his halo blazed brighter. You stepped closer, close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his form. Your fingers brushed against his.

Cold—but not unpleasantly so. Like touching a glass of ice water on a hot day. His "skin" felt smooth, harder than yours but yielding slightly—more than earthly crystal would. You slid your palm against his, marveling at how his fingers dwarfed yours, how the pointed tips curved protectively around your hand.

"Oh," you breathed.

Your heart hammered against your ribs. This was different from the brief contacts when he'd saved you—those moments had been pure adrenaline, over before you could process them. This was... this was something else entirely.

His thumb traced circles on the back of your hand, each movement sending shivers up your arm. You'd held hands before, of course—awkward first dates, consoling friends, helping seniors cross the street. But this...

"I've never..." The words caught in your throat. You swallowed hard, tried again. "I've never felt like this before."

Sariel's grip tightened fractionally. "Neither have I. In all my centuries of existence."

Your fingers traced the crystalline ridges of his palm, feeling every nuance of impossible geometry beneath your touch. It felt good. It felt right—but a nagging thought wormed its way to the surface.

"Could you get in trouble for this?" The words tumbled out before you could stop them. "With the... what did you call it? The Firmament?"

Sariel's thumb stilled its circles on your skin. His halo flickered, casting dancing shadows across the walls. "I... I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"The rules are clear." His free hand gestured vaguely upward. "We are not to form attachments. Not to reveal ourselves except in the direst circumstances. Not to..." He squeezed your hand gently. "Not to indulge in physical contact beyond what is strictly necessary for protection."

"But the consequences?"

"I've never witnessed them firsthand." His crystalline legs shifted again, anxiously. "Other guardians who found themselves growing too close to their charges... they always requested reassignment before it came to that."

You tried to pull your hand away, but his fingers curled around yours, keeping you close. "Maybe you should—"

"No." The word resonated through your bones, his halo flaring bright enough to make you squint. "I am selfish, indulgent. The others had the strength to walk away when they felt the first stirrings of attachment. But I..." His thumb resumed its gentle circles. "I savored every moment. Every excuse to reach through the veil. Every chance to feel your warmth beneath my fingers."

Heat bloomed in your cheeks. "But if there are rules—"

"Rules enforced by whom? I've never seen it. Never heard of actual punishment." His free hand rose to hover near your face, not quite touching. "Perhaps I am rationalizing. Making excuses. But I cannot..." His voice cracked, a sound like breaking glass. "I cannot imagine walking away now. Not when you're finally here, finally aware, finally..."

Your other hand rose to meet his, pressing his palm against your cheek. The cool crystal of his skin made you shiver. "I don't mind."

"You should." But he didn't pull away. If anything, he drew closer, his tall form curving around yours like a shield. "You should be horrified that your guardian has become so compromised. That I've allowed myself to feel these things, to want..." He trailed off, his mouth twisting.

"To want what?"

His halo pulsed, sending waves of warmth washing over you. "Anything you're willing to give."

You tugged gently at his hand, pulling him toward the armchair. "Come here. I want to try something."

His crystalline form chimed as he drifted along with you. "What are you planning?"

"Have you ever sat down before?"

The question seemed to catch him off guard. His halo flickered. "I... no. We don't typically need to rest."

"Then it's time you learned." You positioned yourself in front of the chair. "Here, like this."

He stared at the worn fabric, head tilted. "I'm not certain my form is suited for—"

"Just try?" You squeezed his hand. "For me?"

His crystalline legs shifted, scraping against each other. With careful movements, he lowered himself into the chair. The obsidian-like fragments of his lower half arranged themselves awkwardly, more like a pile of black glass than proper legs.

"This feels... strange," he said.

"Scoot back a bit." You guided him deeper into the chair. "There. Comfortable?"

"I'm not sure that word applies to my existence, but..." His halo pulsed softly. "It's not unpleasant."

You bit your lip, gathering courage. "Room for one more?"

Before he could answer, you settled yourself carefully into his lap. His hands flew to your shoulders, steadying you with that impossible gentleness you'd come to associate with him. The crystal of his form felt cool through your clothes, but not uncomfortably so.

"Is this... acceptable?" His voice wavered slightly.

You leaned back against his chest, feeling the strange mix of soft human skin and hard crystal. "More than acceptable. How does it feel for you?"

His fingers flexed against your shoulders. The tension that had been radiating from him since his confession began to ebb away, like ice melting in spring sunshine. "Warm," he said finally. "You're so warm."

"Good warm?"

"Yes." His arms slid around your waist, pulling you closer. "I've watched humans embrace countless times. Observed the comfort it seems to bring. But I never understood until..." His halo brightened. "Until now."

You shifted slightly, getting more comfortable. His crystalline form adjusted with you, somehow both solid and yielding at once. "What else do you think about it? Being able to sit, to hold someone?"

"It's..." He paused, considering. "Grounding. I've spent centuries floating, observing. This feels more... present. Real." His chin came to rest on top of your head. "I like feeling the weight of you. Knowing you're truly here, not just someone I'm watching from afar."

The radiator clicked off again, but you barely noticed. Sariel's natural warmth enveloped you like a blanket. His fingers traced idle patterns on your arm, leaving trails of pleasant tingles in their wake.

"I like it too," you said, letting your eyes drift closed. "Having you here. Being able to touch you, to see you." You laughed softly. "Though I still can't see your eyes."

"Perhaps someday." His arms tightened fractionally around you. "For now, this is... more than I ever dared hope for."

You hummed in agreement, feeling more relaxed than you had in years. His presence behind you felt right somehow, like he'd always belonged there. Like all those years of watching over you had been leading to this moment, this simple act of sitting together.

A sudden crash from the kitchen made you both jump. Your empty mug had fallen off the coffee table, rolling across the floor.

"Sorry," Sariel said, his halo dimming. "That was my fault. I sometimes forget to maintain corporeal boundaries when I'm distracted."

You twisted in his lap to look at him. "You knocked over my mug with your... what, your aura?"

"Perhaps." His crystalline form shifted awkwardly. "Though in my defense, you are quite distracting."

"My guardian angel is clumsy," you said, trying not to laugh. "All those times I tripped over nothing or dropped things—was that actually you being flustered?"

His halo flickered rapidly, like a failing lightbulb. For the first time, you felt embarrassed warmth forming underneath his glassy exterior. "I choose not to speak on such things."

#ashwritesmonsters #exophilia #monster love #monster romance #requests #monster x reader #angel x reader #female reader

27 notes · View notes

bbr0wni3 · 3 days ago

Text

Late Night Comfort

(one shot)

♡ -> Charlie Dalton x Reader

Summary: Everything has changed since the loss of a good friend. Everything is quieter, silent suffering that can't be contained, at least not for Charlie, who seeks comfort at a very late hour of the night.

-> Content & warnings: female reader, fluff, angst, love confession, narrated in 1st person, DPS spoilers!, secrets feelings, girls are allowed on Wellton, reader is part of the boys group

-> word count: 1.7k

-> (a/n): hii, a few days ago I watched DPS, and let me tell you that I NEED Charlie Dalton, he's so cute and sassy I just love him, the movie is so so amazing and beautiful, absolute cinema, so I figured I could write a one shot for my baby ♡♡♡

Sorry in advance if there are some misspelled words, bad grammar/phrases,etc. English is not my first language!!

Divider by @/anitalenia

It's been a week since Neil's passing. The atmosphere at Wellton isn't the same anymore, everything is quieter, and without Professor Keating our poetry class lacks meaning and passion. We stopped learning anything really, there is no class like Mr Keating's classes.

The boys, the whole group also changed, it's clear that we are all dealing and coping with Neil's death.

I sometimes go back to the Indian cave where all our “dead poets society” meetings were. But every time I go back I swear it feels colder than before, wetter than before and sadder each time. To think back and remember how we used to all laugh here, how we talked and listened, how we bounded like we have never before, and how charlie played the saxophone in a way that warmed my soul.

Now there's pure silence, and our laughs are trapped in the walls, faint whispers of all the poetry that has been read inside this dark cave.

Inside the cave I sometimes encountered the other boys, and usually they were always the same ones, pitts, knox, meeks, charlie and of course me; at the end the ones who were still going to the cave wanted the same, to revive the feeling of those old days, to feel the nostalgia of what could've been if something like the loss of a friend didn't happen.

I close my trigonometry study books as I prepare to go to bed, I get in the soft winter blankets my grandma crocheted herself, I lay my head on the pillows and turn my body to turn off the lamp I have next to my bed. I watch the ceiling for a while trying to fall asleep, and I eventually do.

A small and hesitant knock on my door, I tap the lamp again to turn it on and I look in complete silence in the direction that the sound came from, i wait and another knock is heard again, I glance at the clock that marks exactly 2:00 am and with a confused expression on my face I put on my slippers and get off the bed to open the door.

I open it, and I see Charlie standing there, with his usual light blue pajamas, I focus my eyes on his face, he looks tired and sad, but at the same time he's glad to see me.

“Hey, can..can I come in?” He is the first to speak and he does it almost in a whisper as he doesn't want the whole corridor to hear. He looks at me the whole time, and I cannot handle the way his eyes remind me of the ones of a puppy.

I nod and he comes in, I close the door with my hands behind my back to get a look of the situation in front of me, it worries me to see him like this.

“What happened chars?” I grab his hand softly and I guide him to my bed so we can sit and talk, as I do my heart beats loud, I can't contain and I can't deny anymore the way he always makes me feel when we're this close. I almost feel guilty to be thinking like this when he looks like he is on the verge of tears.

“I can't sleep, I keep seeing this images, this memories when I close my eyes, I just, I need someone to be here next to me” he is open about his thoughts with me, he's always been, whatever it is he's always been honest with me and straight to the point, and that is how I would describe our relationship.

“Do you want to stay again? you can rest here, we can talk if you want” I suggest to him while I look at the floor and then at him, he was already looking at me, the glimmer of the lamp paints the room of a warm yellow, and in his eyes it shines in the form of a small star, they are watery and a little red on the sides, but he looks dreamy under this light.

He nods in response, so I get up off the bed and grab some blankets from the top drawer of my wardrobe. I started making the bed that's on the right of the room, since I was not assigned with a roommate that bed is always empty.

In the walls I see my big shadow making the bed for him, I feel how he is looking at me the whole time, I'm nervous just thinking about it, even though it's not the first time he's going to sleep in the same room as me.

Once I finished making it he gets up my bed and walks towards me as I go back to my own bed, I get inside the blankets again, I place my hand on my cheek to look at him and how he gets on the bed, he only looks at the ceiling, i look at his side profile and i trace his features in my mind, I decide to break the ice.

“What's on your mind that doesn't let you sleep?” he turns his head and looks at me, he matches my current position and turns his body so he is completely facing me.

“Neil” he says as I expected, sighing as he says his name, even from this distance of the room I can see how a tear began to fall and followed the bridge of his nose.

I grab the side of my blanket and I extend it in the air, opening it as a way of telling him that he is welcome to come and lay down next to me, he gets up when he notices and scoops next to me on my bed, his chest is warm but his feet are cold.

My back touches the wall as I try to make more space for the both of us, but we are still very close to each other. I turn my body to look at him, he does the same.

Another tear falls from his eyes as we stay in silence, with my thumb I hesitate but I get on time to dry it before it reaches his lips. His expression changed slightly when I did, his eyes grew a little bit bigger, he breathed deeply and his lips parted slowly from each other.

“Am I so in love with you, to even notice the smallest details of your actions, charlie?” I thought to myself at that very moment. I very much knew the answer.

It's not the first time we seek comfort from each other, that we seek our company for various reasons. But tonight, tonight is different. He is different.

I've never seen him cry like this in front of me, I've never seen him so vulnerable and sensitive next to me. We did see each other cry, but from laughter or when the whole group was there, tonight there's privacy, there's an intimate moment, there is a cozy and comforting feeling between us.

I know he feels it too, because he is leaning towards me even more, he looks for my touch as he rests his head on the creek of my neck, from a moment to another he grips the fabric of my pajama shirt, he snuggles his face deeper in my neck and I start feeling the wetness of his tears before I hear his pain.

I stay still for a moment, I can hear how my heart beats louder in my ears, and how he Is choking on his own sadness. With my left hand I caress his cheek, his hair, and his ear. He starts to calm up with my touch, he stops crying but he still grabs the side of my shirt in the most innocent way.

I think of him when we were kids.

“I'm sorry, I didn't expect to explode like that” he says, still buried in my neck, he's embarrassed and his words almost come out as a mumble.

“don't be sorry, it seems like you needed to cry out loud so you did” he raises his head and i look at him, smiling without teeth.

“Do you feel better?” I speak again

“yeah I do actually, thank you” He lets go of my shirt and accommodates his body so that his head rests on my pillow, I do the same, and we both look at each other for a moment.

“you're very special to me” He says out of nowhere, making me blush, not only is he looking at me like he is searching in the depth of my soul but he also says something like this.

“I'm going to explode.” I say in my head

“you're very special to me too, Charlie, you always were.” I respond, I fear that my body keeps pushing me to finally confess to him, it's like a sudden impulse, but is it really the moment?

I keep looking at him, going from one eye to another, I try to search for me in them, I see all of the memories I have of him, the every moment that he made me fall in love with him even more, and in that very moment I find it, I find the bravery to follow this sudden impulse.

Carpe diem.

I get closer and I kiss him right on the lips, I close my eyes and I make it the faster I can to not regret it after. I taste the salt from his dry tears. I pull apart once the impulse is gone from my body and I go back to being embarrassed.

I see how he slowly opens his eyes, he looks at me, his pupils are dilated and he smirks before grabbing the back of my head with his hand and pulling me closer again.

The kiss he gives me is deeper, like he waited a long time to do this, like he imagined every single detail the same way as I did.

We separate, he places his forehead on mine as I listen to how he breathes.

“I like you, I like you so much” he says desperately, like if he was holding these words on the back of his tongue, like it was burning him every minute that passed without being able to say it.

“I like you to chars, a lot” I look up at him as I separate our foreheads, he looks beautiful as always.

I never imagined that this night could end up like this.

Thank you for reading!

#charlie dalton x reader #dps x reader #charlie dalton #dps fanfiction #dead poets society x reader #dead poets society #fanfiction #fluff

23 notes · View notes