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specshroom · 25 days

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*°~There are many benefits to being a mage~°*

Includes: Fem reader x male orc, size kink, "human fetish", friends to more?

In which: Orc with a big problem confides in his mage friend who decides to help him out with a useful spell~🪄

You've been in this town for quite a while now, almost 3 years. That wasn't the original plan but It just so happened that this seaside town was more welcoming than many places you've been to on your travels. It sits at the coast of two major trade routes, connecting people of many different walks of life.

The friendliness and diversity you experienced allowed you to make a few friends you might not have otherwise.

Like the one you're sharing breakfast with right now. His name is Grimmok and he's the self-proclaimed, "Best fisherman in this damn town". He's your typical young, burley orc.

The first time you met him was in the local pub, you were intrigued when a crowd formed infront of the huge orc. He was dramatically telling one of his fisherman's tales and the small crowd hung onto his every word. He was a very good story teller and you happened to be very interested in folklore and myths. You made a habit of just walking up to him, if he didn't look busy and asking him to tell you a story. Soon it wasn't uncommon to see you sitting on the docks listening and writing intently as he waxes on about some old wives tale while repairing his nets.

Now you sit in his home, eating breakfast while he grumbles on about having to train a new fishing boy.

"The boy gets distracted by the smallest things, every time someone even resembling female walks past the docks he's panting like a dog." Grimmok bites into his ridiculously large breakfast sandwich signaling the end of his rant.

He did look more grumpy than usual when he opened the door to let you in for your weekly Sunday breakfast. His shoulder length black hair was tied into a hasty half up half down bun and his stubble looked more scruffy than usual. You can only huff in amusement at his troubles.

"Cmon, don't be too harsh on the kid. You did the same thing with Rosie Cotton, remember?"

The orc stills and huffs indignantly, scratching at his neck. This makes you grin.

"Mhm, you'd be telling me a story and then just stop in the middle of a sentence. I'd look up and sure enough there's Miss Rosie walking on by. Fiery hair flowing in the wind, cleavage spilling out her dress, swaying those hips and-"

Grimmok interrupts your overdramatic musing by flicking your pointy hat off your head.

"Hey!"

"You're acting like you didn't like looking at her too." The big guy grumbles almost like a child. He wipes his hands on his plaid pajama pants and picks up his empty plate, heading towards the sink.

You lean down to pick your hat off the floor, dust it off and mumble,

"Yeah, but I never got to bed her."

The dishes in the sink clatter a little too loudly as he tenses up. You hardly try to stifle your laugh.

"We didn't actually...she was...too small... For me to...." The orc struggles out as he wipes his plate clean.

It's quiet for a minute until you ask.

"But she did try, right? I'm pretty sure that counts, Grim."

The orc just grumbles something unintelligible. You want to sympathise with the poor guy but imagining Rosie Cotton, a "short stack" type of woman, trying to fit his massive green cock in her little pussy was pretty erotic.

"I want to feel bad for you mate but you kind of bring this on yourself. You obviously have a bit of a human fetish."

"It's not a-" The orc goes to defend himself but stops and just sighs when he realises it's no use.

"...and a size kink to boot." You mumble with toast in your mouth.

"I can't help it if I think horny humans trying desperately to take my cock is literally the hottest thing to me!" Grimmok finally lets the dam of sexual frustration burst after you've done a sufficient amount of poking at it. You always were good at getting him to actually talk about his problems.

"But the problem comes in when I actually have to fuck them, they can barely take half! How am I supposed to fuck them!? I'm too big! I'd kill them!"

You can't help but choke on your toast as a cackle forces itself from your throat. "Sorry. I'm sorry!" You struggle between snorts. Your big green friend just stands there with a grimace, arms crossed as he waits for you to finish.

You sigh and wipe your watering eyes. "Well, I'm glad you've confided in me because now I can help you." You wipe your hands clean and stand up from the orc sized table.

"You know that cool thing I can do with my hat?" You take your hat off and reach inside of it, the magic pocket space allowing you to reach your whole arm inside of it when you physically shouldn't be able to.

He nods sceptically still leaning against the sink, a bit concerned about where this is going. He thought by "help" you meant like you were going to pep talk him or something.

"We just have to do this but with...." You gesture down to your crotch.

Grim stands there, mouth slightly agape, blinking at you.

"I mean it's not exactly the same obviously." You pull your trusty spell book out of the hat before placing it back on your head while the pages of the spell book fly open to the page you want. "You basically draw this sigil on someone and then they'll be able to take whatever they can push inside no matter how big. Girth might still be an issue though..."

You explain this to him like you've explained many other spells, like you're reading him a recipe, deliberating what ingredients would work best. He doesn't even know how to react honestly.

"You're serious?"

You clap the book shut and adjust your hat on your head, smugly shrugging,

"This is what I do."

The poor guy just stumbles in disbelief.

"Magic. I mean.... magic is what I do." You correct yourself a bit awkwardly and clear your throat, regaining your confidence.

"It's a pretty easy spell so we can try this whenever you want really."

"We?"

"Well yeah, unless you want me to go up to Rosie Cotton and say "Hey love, you mind if I put this sigil on your womb so my friend can finally pound your tight lit-"

"Alright! Alright."

Grimmok rubs his face with his hands, sighing again and looking unsure. You lean against the sink next to him, barely coming up to his pecs.

"Look, it'll just be a one time thing so you can actually see if human pussy's all that and if you like it, I'm sure we can find plenty of humans who would love to try it out."

"...Alright. That sounds good."

You give a slap to his thick bicep and an encouraging "ata boy."

"and if you don't like this one, I'm sure I could find a spell that'll just make you..." He doesn't miss how you glance down at his crotch. "Smaller."

He huffs and pushes your shoulder playfully, he liked how you could always joke away the tension in any given situation. You walk up to the big wooden chair you were sitting at a second ago and pull it away from the table so that it's facing outward, struggling a bit as it's very much orc sized like most things in his house.

"Cmon. Sit."

You pat the chair, looking at him expectantly.

"Now?"

He's really not used to other people being so forward especially not when it's his mate. You shrug at him.

"Why not? I mean we can wait till you're ready, I don't mind. I have literally all day."

You put your hands behind your back and rock on your feet as you both just stand in his kitchen for about a minute...waiting. He eventually huffs and steels himself, fully committing to the idea and walking over to plop himself in the chair. He's going to put his dick inside one of his best friends.

You place your hat on the table so it doesn't get in the way of your activity and step in front of him. You levitate your spell book In front of you, looking down at the page with the sigil that's way more familiar than you're letting on.

"Okay, I'll face this way so it's less....personal." You turn around so your back is facing him. "You do still need to take off your pants though."

He smacks his teeth, "I figured that." He mumbles, pushing his soft pajama pants down to his mid thighs, immediately freeing his cock as he wasn't wearing underwear. He leaves his white long sleeve on, the sleeves folded to his elbows, giving you a perfect tease of his thick strong arms and multiple tattoos. When he looks back at you and sees that you've already disappeared your pants, he quickly looks away.

Sensing his nervousness you ask with a softer voice than before,

"can I sit?"

He clears his throat before grumbling a "Yeah."

You gently lean down and sit your naked ass onto his lap, legs open wide over his own you can see his half hard cock laying between his legs but try not to stare. Obviously Grimmock is a big guy but he's even big by orc standards so of course his cock is massive even when he isn't fully hard.

Grimmock clears his throat and jolts you out of your thoughts. You adjust a bit on top of him feeling his happy trail against your lower back. Your eyes skim the page levitating in front of you, when you finally find the incantation passage you straighten up and start chanting the ancient words in the text. Your eyes glow and the air feels static, Grim has seen magic before but the novelty never truly wears off.

An intricate shape starts to form right above your pubic bone, where your womb would be. The sigil glows brightly on your skin as Grim peers from above your head to look at it. At first glance he thinks it looks a bit demonic but then remembers he doesn't know anything about magic and decides not to mention it. When the sigil is complete you clap the book shut, immediately cutting off the static energy in the room and startling him in the process.

"That should do it."

You place the book on the table and lean back against his clothed chest, feeling the tension in his body not letting up.

"Damn, I can't believe little Miss Rosie took half of this. What a lass."

Your joke lightens the mood once again as Grimmock scoffs at you. Feeling him relax, you bring your hand down to finally touch the wetness that's been growing for awhile now. "We should still do some prep before you put it in. Is that alright?"

He nods and watches your hand disappear between your thighs. You readjust so that your boot clad feet are on either side of the chair rests. Opening yourself up to the air and to him, he can see you've already got two fingers pushing inside. He hesitates before reaching for his cock and slowly starting to stroke himself under you but it was painfully clear he was holding back.

"I know I'm not as short or.... endowed as Miss Cotton but I could put on a red wig if you'd like."

Grim huffed a laugh at the mental image of that.

"Oh wow~ Grimmie, you're soooo big and strong~"

You say in a high pitched voice (that doesn't sound anything like Rosie Cotton), using her embarrassing pet name while looking up at him and batting your eyelashes dramatically.

Grim scoffs and holds his hand over your mouth "Stop playing around." He tries to sound serious but his smile and the grumble in his chest betrays him. You laugh against his hand holding his wrist. You slowly pull his hand off your mouth and inch it gradually down your body giving him ample time to pull away. He doesn't and you move his hand to rub against your wet pussy ever so gently.

You're both looking into each other's eyes, this was not supposed to be so intimate but it doesn't look like he minds when he takes charge and slowly eases two fingers inside your aching pussy. His thick fingers stretch your pussy so good as you lightly buck into his hand, greedy pussy already hungry for more. The way he's looking down at you with so much need gets you so hot inside. A heat that only increases when he starts pumping his fingers in and out. Grim works you open with one hand and pumps his fat cock with the other.

This entire situation has you pent up and impatient so you pull his hand away and sit up, "I can take it now." He can't help but groan at your words but remains concerned at the perceived lack of prep. Whenever he fools around with humans most of the engagement is spent just doing prep so he's more than a little worried, "Are you sure?"

You don't reply as you gently take his fully hard cock from his hand, holding it up against your stomach to see how far inside you this thing could go. You both groan at the comparison between his ridiculously massive dick and your body, he reaches way past your belly button and into your stomach. Definitely more than a human could safely take. You adjust your legs so that you're almost squatting on his lap, your feet plant on the seat on either side of his hips.

You support yourself with your hand resting on the seat between his legs and lift yourself so you can rub your wetness along the length of his cock. He brings his rough hands to hold your hips gently, not applying pressure but just resting there so he can have something to hold.

You lift yourself up until his tip is in-line with your entrance, slowly rubbing it against your clit. You both groan lightly when the tip pops in and you slowly ease yourself down his cock. He's amazed at how easy your cunt swallows him. You pause half way down to adjust and give a few pumps to the rest of him before your hand leaves his cock to settle next to your other hand on the chair in front of you. He squeezes your hips a little in silent concern and you smile before easing the rest of him in, gently descending until you reach the hilt. Your pubes kiss his and he can't help but let out a weak moan at the sight and feeling of you taking all of him. Finally feeling tight walls grip the entire length of his cock has him reeling. You're overwhelmed as well, It's been a while since you've taken someone this big.

You slowly circle your hips around so that you really feel his cock against your walls deep inside you, you're obviously very pleased with yourself. Grim is seeing stars, eyes shut, head tilted back, trying to regain himself even a little while his literal dreams are coming true.

"Well, we know it works. I guess that's it then." You move to lift yourself off his cock as if your work is done.

"Nononono, Please no. Please."

Comes Grim's hasty but soft displeasure, both his thick arms circle around your waist to keep you in place as he leans against your back, head resting on your shoulder.

"What's the matter big guy?" You lean into his chest, stroke his arm and turn your head to look at him. He huffs, you know exactly what's the matter. He takes a deep breath and lifts his head to look at you.

"I need you."

Your heart jumps in your chest.

"I need you to fuck me...please"

You look up at him, wide eyes, mouth agape as he looks back down at you. The moment is almost sweet until your mouth forms into an evil grin and you snicker softly, a dreadfully familiar mischievous glint in your eyes. Grim closes his eyes and almost regrets all the choices that lead him here.

"Riiight~. I almost forgot, this is probably the first time you've actually been able to fuck someone sooo much smaller than you."

You reach down to gently hold his proportionately massive ballsack, making him suck in a breath and twitch his thighs.

"Poor guy, you must be so pent up, huh?"

All he can do is let out a choked moan of your name which only makes you chuckle.

"I can really play the part for you, if you'd like. Y'know the, "Ah, your so deep!" and "You're filling me up so good!""

You laugh when you feel his dick twitch. Poor Grim can only grip your waist and try to keep his hot face from getting hotter. He looks down at you with pleading eyes and you decide you're not so evil after all. You pat his arms and move them so he's holding your waist. He startles a little when you playfully kiss him on the cheek.

"I've got you big guy."

You lean forward again with your feet under you and start to lift yourself up very slowly until the top of his cock is juuust about to pop out. Your thighs burn as you stay there for a few seconds, teasing Grim and yourself. Grim thinks he might actually cry if you don't move.

Suddenly you grip the edge of the chair and force yourself down hard on his cock, taking him all the way to the hilt in one hard thrust. You both groan very loudly, he downright yelps with the sudden movement. You grip the chair and clench around him so hard he can't help the way he grips your waist tightly. One hand covers his mouth as he tips his head back and tries to not cum immediately. He tries to regain his breathing but you have other plans. You can feel him twitch inside you and a desperate need to be filled engulfs you.

You start thrusting up and down on his dick, moving your whole body up and down his length. It's a good thing he can't see your face because you are enjoying this way too much. Your eyes roll to the back of your head and you bite your lip, the sensation of being filled to the literal brim is intoxicating. You work yourself and him so diligently, it's no time before your thrusts become more frantic and you're right at the peak. With one final deliberate thrust you cum hard around him, clenching and unclenching like you're trying to milk him dry.

You both moan freely now, though his are more like growls. Your pulsing walls quickly lead him to his own climax, holding you close to his chest and thrusting up into your cunt, spilling hot seed deep inside your womb. You shake and squirm even more with the blissful feeling of your walls being coated with his spend.

After a few moments of you two spasming and twitching you eventually ease up and fall limply against his chest, adjusting your thighs to rest on top of his again. You breathe out a long sigh and bask in the fullness of your cunt, stroking your stomach up and down.

You're blissfully unaware of the knowing smirk that grows on his face. He cards his fingers through his hair, composing himself a little more. His warm hand joins yours in caressing up and down the expanse of your stomach and chest, loving how small you feel in his hold.

"You've done this before." His voice comes out in a low growl that makes you shiver, not expecting it. You crane your head up to see him smirking down at you and all you can do is sit and stare. He chuckles deeply,

"There ain't no way, this is your first time taking a cock this size."

You stumble for words but none come out. His hands caress your thighs and one hand comes up to gently hold your jaw. He leans down really close to your face.

"You're a size queen."

You suck in a breath and your pussy clenches involuntarily around his cock which you only noticed now hasn't gone down at all. Grim laughs louder this time.

"I should've known the second you pulled out that spellbook."

You sit there, quite embarrassed at being caught. You smack his hand away from your waist.

"Shut up, you're the one with the-"

"Yes, we both know about my kinks, you teased me about it enough which is very hypocritical of you."

Grim is just loving the way you fluster and fumble for words right now.

"Oh, so you don't have a thing for inhumanly huge cock?"

He challenges and uses both his hands to bring your naked thighs to your chest, exposing your pussy, leaking with his seed.

"So you don't like the way I stretch and fill this little human pussy?"

You can't help but whine at his dirty words and the position he's binding you into. His cock adjusting inside of you, hitting a new spot.

"If you don't, I guess I could just pull out and-"

"Nonononono... Grim Cmon."

You frantically babble your disagreement, shaking your head. He chuckles again, very pleased with himself at turning the tables on you but thankfully for you he's not as evil as you are and his dick is still painfully hard.

"Alright Darlin, I'll take care of you."

He lifts himself from the chair, leaving a puddle of both of you when he stands. He comforts your whines when he pulls out to set you ass up on the table and just stands at the edge, one hand on his hip and the other leisurely stroking his cock.

You look back at him with confusion, expecting him to just fuck you over the table already.

"If you ask nicely."

He says looking real smug, you sigh in defeat and turn your body so that you're facing him. You disappear the rest of your clothes, leaving you stark naked on the large kitchen table you were just eating breakfast at. That realisation makes him pump his cock harder.

You press your knees as close to your chest as possible and bring your hands down to your puffy, leaking pussy. You spread your folds for him with your fingers and say, as sexily as you can manage.

"Please fuck me Grim."

Grim is so fucking floored, he's cursing himself for not thinking of doing this sooner. He sighs and pumps his cock harder, lining the leaking tip up to your pussy lips. He eases it inside and the new position makes for a new sensation for both of you as different spots are brushed and tension melts away. Once he's balls deep again he gently worms his arm underneath your back to lift you up with ease. You wrap your arms around his neck for support being mindful not to pull his hair. Suddenly you're face to face, looking into his eyes for the first time since you started.

You look into his dark eyes and they relax you, this is your best friend, you trust him. His eyes leave yours to stare at your parted lips. When he sees that familiar quirk on your lips he looks back to your eyes, catching the mischievous glint. You lean closer so that your noses are just brushing against eachother. You feel his breath hitch when your lips meet his. He spares no time getting into it and moves his lips against yours. You make out while he adjusts your body in his hold, one hand on your ass and the other on your waist.

He then, without warning, lifts you up and brings you down hard thrusting the whole length of his cock into you in one hearty thrust. You break from the sloppy kiss for a moment to groan out in absolute ecstasy, loving the way he takes the lead from you effortlessly. He brings down your whole body to meet his upwards thrusts. The way he's basically using your entire body like a fleshlight makes you embarrassingly horny.

It feels like it's been years since you were fucked like this, the way your body is reacting, so sensitive you're sure you could cum again any minute. This is exasperated greatly when he brings you closer to his chest with one arm locked around you so that he can worm his other hand in-between you two and rub at your engorged clit.

You grab at his wrist as he frantically works you to your climax, you basically scream when you finally reach that high. Clenching and shaking on his cock while he holds you up with his buff arms. You cling into him so tightly, getting drool on his shirt. You even squirt a little, getting your wetness all over his cock and the floor. Your intense climax once again has him reeling. The sight of you clinging onto him, squirting and losing yourself on his cock makes his balls clench painfully as his frantic thrusts turn faster and sloppier. He reaches his climax as he holds you close, groaning into your neck, pumping another thick load deep into you.

You both stay like that for a while, coming down from your respective highs. Your fingers slowly unclench from his shirt moving down to lazily caress his chest, feeling it move with his breaths as you rest your head on his shoulder.

He slowly manoeuvres your legs so he can sit back down on the chair, holding you to his chest. His hand strokes down your back as you both soak in the warm, tranquil after glow. His breathing evens out to a steady rhythm and your eyes flutter closed.

Knock knock knock

You both jolt awake and stare at each other wide eyed and then at the front door, which is very much visible from the kitchen. You both stay quiet and he holds you closer to hide your fully naked body if the rude intruder somehow manages to break the door down.

Knock knock knock

"Uhh Mr Grimmock Sir?"

The tension in Grim's body sags when he hears who's on the other side of the door. A hand goes to massage his impending migraine.

"BOY! What do you want?!"

You can imagine the way the poor fishing boy cringes at the anger in Grim's voice.

"Sorry Sir, I was wondering if you could give me some extra lessons on the boat?"

Grim growls in frustration, you chuckle in amusement and start kissing up his neck which settles him down a little.

"Tomorrow lad, it's Sunday."

"But I was-"

"Tomorrow."

The finality in his tone seems to get through to the young man as he mutters an "Alright Sir, see you then." Before walking off, his steps getting lighter and lighter.

"He doesn't want to work all week but suddenly he wants to work on Sunday?!"

Grim's irritation is clear as he gestures to the door incredulously. You can't help but laugh at the orcs misfortune. You settle your arms around his broad shoulders, one hand playing with his hair as his hand begins to stroke down your back again.

"Thank you for...helping out"

He says, quite genuinely.

"Anytime."

You throw him a thumbs up and he has to laugh and shake his head at the award winning nonchalance. When the amusement fades though he leans forward in the chair and brings his hands lower to cup your ass cheeks.

"Anytime?"

You can feel his soft cock gradually hardening inside your pussy and you look up at him in utter disbelief.

"Unbelievable."

You shake your head and chastise him but the smile that breaks on your face rats you put. He grins and lifts you up, walking out of the kitchen. His mouth marks up your neck and his stubble tickles, dull tusks dig into the sensitive skin.

"Just unbelievable."

You mutter to yourself again as your legs hug around his waist tighter and you feel his cum dripping out of your hole, leaving a trail all the way to his bedroom.

#monsterfucker #I'm thinking of making this mage character a recurring character where I basically write about her smutty monster adventures 👀👀👀#monster x human #monster fucker #monster boyfriend #monster lover #monster x reader #monster writing #orc x reader #orc x human #nsft writing #terato #teratophillia

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whetstonefires · 1 year

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One thing I don't think I've ever seen talked about is how post-apocalypse ideation is largely about homelessness.

Homelessness looms large in the American consciousness. Like, not that it's irrelevant elsewhere, but it's got a particular cultural place in the US that's reflected in Hollywood, and therefore relevant because what makes it into film and TV sets the terms of so many conversations.

We don't acknowledge it if we can help it, but I think most people know they're never more than a few very bad months from winding up there.

Even people who are sure it only happens to people who deserve it, who fuck up and put one foot in the morass of their own foolish volition. Even they know the quicksand is there, waiting to be walked into, and that the odds are stacked against ever climbing out on your own once you have. And that they, too, are capable of fucking up. Of trusting the wrong person. Of getting cancer incorrectly.

And those of us who know damn well we can't be sure we're safe even if we do everything right, we know it even better.

And in that sense it doesn't matter what the world would realistically look like after X kind of apocalypse, what people would do, how society would adapt. Because the anxiety that's being processed is about the reality that's in existence now.

About what if my world ends. And I lose access to the fruits of developed society, to clean clothes and new glasses and running water, to a safe place to sleep where I don't expect to be killed or robbed, or driven out by men with guns and dogs. To my home and work and family and everything I usually use to tell me who I am.

What if every man's hand is against me, and every meal is a small victory, and there's only my own dwindling strength between me and the long night?

Will I make it? Will I hold up under the strain? Will I retain my dignity? Will I be lucky? Will I be able to protect the people I love, in that world, the world where no one is protecting us anymore?

Is there a way to continue to live as a human person, when you're denied the prerogatives of one, and don't know if you'll ever get them back?

Putting this anxiety into the context of a massive apocalypse divorces this scenario from the burden of shame tied up in the idea of winding up in that sort of situation in the normal course of events, by having society vanish rather than expel you, personally, as a washout, and continue on around you.

It also allows you to rule out a priori the question of what resources might be offered but can't in an anticipatory context be counted on; shelters and programs and housed friends and family who may or may not help. And narrow the narrative to only the question of what you can survive, and often a fairy tale about surviving all of it and starting over.

Rehearsing for a loss in a mythologized format is a very normal anxiety processing behavior, and I think a lot of apocalypse scenario building is attached to the buried dread of that personal apocalypse. But I haven't seen that one make the list.

#hoc est meum #homelessness #apocalypse #post-apocalypse fiction

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ickadori · 5 months

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OMG I love you mean reader au, I have a question!!

¿Does the reader ever makes Yuuji jealous on purpose? Maybe with someone they don't see as often because everyone close knows Yuujis girl backs and also bites , so I can see her doing it with maybe someone from Kyoto.

I feel Yuuji is the kind to let it pass or act oblivious cuz he knows I would piss her off but when they are on private he let's her know that playing stupid games lead you to win stupid prices.

Anyways as you can see I'm super super invested in you au, you are an amazing writer❤️

[cws] fem reader. i named the kyoto student ryo. sukuna takes over at the end. anal at the end. overstimulation. half a sprinkle of impact play -> like 2 spanks.

You’re always so dismissive to everyone, especially to those who aren’t in your inner circle. If you don’t interact with them on a daily basis, you couldn’t care less to hear what they have to say, and it’s not an unusual sight to see you rudely walk away mid conversation.

The same could be said for the Kyoto students.

You weren’t friendly with any of them, and had even ended up on bad terms with a few due to your nature. Yuji had been sure he was going to have to intervene in at least five times with the same person in order to keep the peace during their impromptu visit, but to his surprise, to everyone’s surprise, you had been on your best behavior.

You had greeted everyone, albeit with an annoyed ‘hey’ followed by a roll of your eyes, but that was leagues better than what you had done last year! When Todo had intruded on you and Yuji’s conversation, you hadn’t tried to smash Maki’s cursed tool against his head like you usually do, but had rather pursed your lips and excused yourself from the conversation, leaving him to listen to tales about Takada and other nonsensical things.

All in all, the day was going alright. You hadn’t gotten into a heated argument with anyone, nor had he sensed any spikes in cursed energy for the last hour or so that you had been out of his sight. Deciding that he’d just about enough of Todo droning on and on about the feeling of Takada’s hand in his own, Yuji begins to plot his escape.”

“It was a riveting—”

“You heard that?” Yuji cuts Todo off, eyebrows furrowed as he cups his hand to his ear. “I think that’s my girlfriend screaming in agonizing pain—gotta go.” He jogs away, ignoring the call of his name, and snickers to himself as he rounds the corner, one hand slipping into his pocket to retrieve his phone.

Just where are you, he thinks to himself as he scrolls to your contact, a smile breaking out onto his face at the sight of your contact picture. It showcased you giving him an annoyed look, face scrunched up cutely as you had your hand raised, a failed attempt to block your face from the camera. He shoots you a quick text asking where you are, followed by a barrage of heart emojis and kiss emojis, and he stops in front of the vending machine as he waits for your reply, deciding to buy himself and you a drink.

He’s halfway through his soda when you suddenly come rounding the corner, and he smiles as he pockets his phone, only for his smile to falter a bit when he notices that you’re smiling too, at someone that isn’t him—which isn’t a problem in and of itself! Yuji isn’t some crazy jealous guy, but it’s weird to see you look so… jolly. Who are you talking to?

A second person comes around the corner, and his face sours as he recognizes it as Kyoto’s newest 3rd year, Ryo. Yuji tries to be friendly with everyone, but he written the man off from the moment he saw him, not liking the way his eyes had raked you up and down while you had standing right beside Yuji—what was he, blind? It had been so obvious the two of you were together, what with the way Yuji had been trying to fuse your mouths together.

“Yuji,” you call, eyes crinkling as you grab ahold of Ryo’s wrist and pulls him over. Yuji takes another sip of his soda, cursing to himself when he feels Sukuna start to stir inside him. “You remember Ryo, right?”

It’s a tease—he knows it is. He had spent the better half of an hour that day complaining to you about him, while Sukuna had laughed and suggested he ‘pluck his fucking eyes out next time, brat, problem solved’, which he would never do, obviously, but the idea was a bit enticing…especially now, as Yuji is forced to watch the way Ryo takes in your ass when you stretch up to place a kiss on his cheek while you take your drink from his hand.

“He says he’s been thinking about transferring here, right?” You direct your attention to Ryo as you spin around, his eyes darting up to your face, and Yuji can’t keep his clear annoyance off his face.

“Right. I’m really liking the vibe here for some reason.” He grins, and Yuji nearly drags you away in response.

“Hm. Wonder why that is?” You giggle, fucking giggle, and an anger that’s part his own and part his curse’s begins to fester in his gut. Yuji sees the two of you stiffen, no doubt due to Sukuna’s sudden spike in energy, and he gathers the back of your shirt in his hand, the veins along the back of his hand protruding as he tugs you back into him. “Y… Yuji?”

“Yeah, it’s me.” His chin hovers over your shoulder as he stares Ryo down, and something must show in his eyes then, because Ryo is flinching back and stuttering over his words as he takes slow steps back. “Did you want Sukuna?”

“No.” You hastily reply, and the bottle in your hand crinkles as your grip on it tightens.

“‘S that because you think I’m gonna go easy on you?”

“…”

“Because I’m not.”

The unmistakable ‘plap plap’ of Yuji’s hips snapping into your own is loud in the confined space, and you lift a shaky hand, intending on using it to push at his stomach. It’s snatched and pushed down against your chest before you can even fully raise it, and your mouth opens on a silent cry when he slams his cock into you.

“Yu—!”

He grunts, the hand that had been holding him above you moving to cover your mouth, leaving him no choice but to crush you with his weight. “Don’t -shit- call my name.” He rasps, beads of sweat rolling down the slope of his nose just as he rolls his hips into your, pelvis grinding down against your clit with every movement.

You’re sensitive, sore, and every touch, every stroke, sends a pleasurable pain zapping through your body. You don’t know how many times you’ve come, or how long it’s been since Yuji practically dragged you into a supply closet and got you down on your back, with Sukuna goading him on the entire time.

‘You gonna finally put her in her place, brat?’

‘Y’know she’s gonna do it again unless you punish her.’

‘Look how she was smiling. She did it on purpose. You’re too soft on her - let me deal with it.’

‘What’re you doing, idiot? Get your mouth off her cunt. Is this a fucking reward or a punishment?’

‘Slap her around—shut up, girl. Do it. She likes it, see? Look at the mess she’s making on our cock.’

A particularly hard thrust has your eyes rolling and your toes curling in your loafers, and your mouth falls open when he brushes against that spot, eyebrows pulling together as a fresh bout of tears spring to your eyes.

“You crying now?” Sukuna snarks, and Yuji falters, his eyes popping open from where they had been squeezed shut to look at your face. “Don’t fucking stop, she’s fine, she’s—”

“Yuji.”

“Sweet girl,” he answers, hands moving to cup the sides of your face. “Don’t cry - are you sensitive?” You weakly nod, cunt fluttering as he runs his nose along your cheek. “Do you want me to be softer? Just tell…” Yuji goes slack against you, and your eyes widen, hands moving to push at his shoulders, only for them to tense under your grip as a low laugh leaves him.

“Sukuna,” it comes out in a pitiful whine, and you wince at the slow drag of his cock along your walls as he pulls out, thick shaft sliding up between your folds as he bumps the head against your clit.

“It’s been a while,” his head pulls back, allowing you to see the grin stretched across his face, and you drop your gaze as you keep your mouth, earning another laugh. “What? Don’t tell me you’re scared.” His touch is rough as he grips at your sides, nails biting into your skin, and you gasp when he’s suddenly flipping you over, one hand leaving your waist to smack at your ass. “Do it how I like it.”

Your teeth sink into your bottom lip as you shuffle so you’re up on your knees, butt lifted into the air while your chest is flush to the floor. Sukuna smacks you again, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, and you can’t help the moan that slips out when he spreads you open, his hips jutting forward so he can rut his cock against your cunt, a jolt racing up your spine when he goes over your clit.

“Ah, poor pussy is sensitive, yeah?” His tone is mocking, but you nod nonetheless. “Hm.” He pops the tip into your hole, fucking it in just a bit before pulling it back out to continue what he was doing. “Guess we’ve gotta pick another hole then, don’t we?”

“Suku—ah!” His hand reaches underneath you to deliver a swift slap to your cunt, fingers catching your clit, and you let out a pitiful little whimper.

“Quiet.” He spreads you open further, and a shaky breath leaves you when a glob of split lands on your puckered hole, his thumb spreading the wetness around before slowly pushing it in. “Only the good little girls get to speak.”

His cockhead replaces his thumb, and your breath comes out in pants as he eases himself in, stretching you impossibly wide as he forces himself to fit.

“I hope you’re watching, brat — no worries if you aren’t, I don’t mind repeating the lesson later.”

#yuji x reader #sukuna x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #++ yuji/brat

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loveemagicpeace · 2 months

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🍿Astro Notes ✨

🍿What I personally love about Scorpios and Capricorn is that they are so real. They will tell you the real opinion and review on it. They show very realistically the things that are happening in the world or if they go to a city they will give a real opinion of what they though about them.

🦋The 12th house is a hidden house that does not show outwardly like other houses. But it shows through the energy-you can feel this house & you can understand it. But when you have synastry with someone here , it is important to trust your intuition even if you don't know what will happen. To trust through the unknown.

🩵Capricorn rising people have no mercy when it comes to betraying them or doing something bad. Once you lose their respect, it's over. They will never look at you as the same person again. Because when they respect someone, they show that person means a lot to them.

🧚🏼‍♀️Don't lie to mercury in scorpio because they will know the truth before you lie about it. They immediately feel when someone is not telling the truth or when someone is fake, duplicitous, hypocritical. They can read people instantly. If you lie to them, you will end up looking stupid.

🍬And when it comes to Mercury signs. The smartest signs are: Sagittarius (they have a very intelligent mind, they say things very well and can explain them. A very knowledgeable character). Scorpio( they will analyze everything beforehand and are very good at assessing the situation. They delve into the actual conversation and think very psychologically). Virgo ( they are smart and intelligent. They explain things very well).

🍪Individuals with a Taurus moon in the 8th house tend to have deep and intense emotions. They may be very loyal and steadfast in their emotions, and can be possessive or jealous in relationships. These individuals may also have a strong desire for stability and security in their emotional life, and may have a tendency to hold onto grudges or emotional wounds for a long time.

🧁On the other hand, individuals with a Leo moon in the 5th house tend to have a more dramatic and expressive emotional nature. They may be generous and warm-hearted, and may seek validation and attention through their emotions.These individuals may also be creative and passionate, and may enjoy being the center of attention in their personal relationships.

🧃Overall, while Taurus moon in the 8th house individuals may be more reserved and focused on building emotional security, Leo moon in the 5th house individuals may be more outgoing and dramatic in expressing their emotions.

🍭Pisces moon- Pisces is the sign of depths of emotion, and the Moon represents your instinctive emotional reactions and some- times your hidden dreams. Pisces is also the astrological sign of sorrow and self-undoing. If you have the Moon in Pisces you have deep feelings and an innate understanding of the human condition. You are very dreamy and like to live in a romantic fairy tale.

🥃Scorpio moon- You are very clever at hiding your true feelings. This is also one of the more difficult lunar positions. Though you are driven by strong passions you tend to deny that they are your motivation. There is usually a secret sor- row or trouble in the lives of Moon-Scorpios that very of- ten concerns family problems or health. If u have sun in earth sign this accentuates your managerial talents and capacity for authority and leadership. If u have sun in air sign this bestows deep mental powers and an ability to captivate the public.

🌙Moon sign usually represents more hidden aspect of your personality. It is a pervasive influence, but it is likely that other people sense the influence of your Moon sign in your character rather than see it on the surface.

🔥Aries Rising- u usually have strong likes and dislikes and you are never shy about expressing them. You are an activist and doer rather than a thinker. You like to be noticed. Aires people are accident-prone. Because you are impulsive and quick to rush in headlong, you usually don’t look where you are going. Are prone to accidents with fire and sharp instruments.

🍫Taurus Rising- Owning things can sometimes become a mania; you covet possessions and once you own something you guard it jealously and are heartbroken should you lose it. You never resign yourself to the fact that things break, tear, wear out, get lost, and are stolen. They are very attached to things and really hate the fact that they lose something.

🍸Gemini Rising- you have an excitable nature that is You travel, change residences and occupations, and often marry more than once. quick to react to any stimulus, to come up with an answer to any question and also to get upset easily. You love puzzles,games,books. You travel, change residences and occupations, and often marry more than once.

🧊Virgo Rising- Emotionally, it’s hard for you to show your feelings. For many of you, a marriage partner brings property or wealth. Later in life they frequently become property owners, often in a foreign country.

☁️Scorpio Rising- tend to have a secret love affair at least one time in their lives, and usually marry more than once. Astrologers have observed a strange pattern in which Scorpios often lose their first spouse to death. The influence of Pluto bestows powerful feelings and emotions, a sense of purpose, persistence, determination, plus the imagination and ability to make a successful start in a new direction.

Sagittarius Rising- they are often subjected to the fact that they are very disturbed by injustice. Sometimes much more than libras. You like to travel, see new places, learn how the rest of the world lives. You fear that if you take success too seriously, life will become boring. You are impulsive, sometimes reckless. To take action is the main thing, to do something about a problem. You don’t always stop to consider where all the activity may lead. Marriage is not the most important thing in your life. U have a tendency to marry the wrong person (at least once) and get into unhappy romantic situations from which they must extricate themselves.

🎸For personal readings u can sign up here: https://snipfeed.co/bekylibra 🎸

-Rebekah🧚🏼‍♀️🍬🧃

#astrology #energy #zodiac signs #planets #astrological houses #astrology observations #birth chart #moon #rising signs

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wonderlandwalker · 17 days

Text

First Impressions | Eddie Munson x Reader

Stranger Things Masterlist / Inbox

Summary: Eddie learns that Dustin has a recently reunited sister, and from the moment he meets you he's a goner.

Content Warnings / Tags: Pure fluff, henderson!reader, tiny mention of a fight but nothing descriptive, not edited, no use of y/n

Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: Eddie brain rot cause I couldn't keep it in. Don't know if this is my best work but I'm planning to write more chapters on this so it's just a start, hope you like it

“You need a ride home after this?” It was more of a formality than an actual question, he always drove Dustin home after a session.

“Oh that’s okay, my sister is picking me up.” Dustin didn’t even look up from packing his things away, but Eddie’s head shot up.

“Your- you have a sister, since when?” As far as he knew Dustin was an only child, but now he was wrecking his brain trying to think if he had ever mentioned you before.

“I know you’re bad at math Eddie, but I just told you she’s driving so try and put the pieces together.” Dustin was looking up at him now, challenging him.

“Alright smartass, it’s time for you to shut up.” He told him as he ruffled through his hair, leaving behind an agitated Dustin trying frantically to fix it.

The others had already gone home, but Dustin stayed behind late to help Eddie finish up, a habit that became more and more common as the two grew closer. When they finished packing up Eddie locked the door behind them, and while walking to the parking lot decided he wasn’t quite done interrogating Dustin.

“If you have an older sister, how come I've never seen her around before?”

“I mean she’s been around during holidays before, she lived with dad though but they had a big fight so she’s moved here.” It seemed like a sore topic, so Eddie dropped it for now.

As they got to the entrance of the school and felt the cool air on their skin Eddie indeed noticed another car in the usually empty lot, and you were sitting on the hood of it, a book in your hands as you patiently waited. The last rays of sunshine graced your figure as if the heavens themselves were blessing you, and Eddie had never been so sure he’d seena goddess in his life. It was just like the tales he knew so well, the ones he still devoted his life to, it was as if they were becoming true. You looked up when you heard them approach, smiling at the sight of them and giving Dustin a quick side hug as they reached you.

“It’s nice to meet you, I’ve heard a lot of good things.” You held your hand out for Eddie to take, but all he could do was look at it, staring ahead as if hitting pause in a game, he stood still. He wanted to react, to not make the most horrible first impression possible, but the longer he looked at you the worse it got, getting lost in sight of your smile. “Alright, not a fan of handshakes, notes.” You chuckled as you withdrew your hand, and Eddie cursed himself for not having taken the opportunity to feel how soft your skin must’ve been. You looked at him again, your eyes piercing straight through his soul and he wondered if maybe he had found himself in one of his fantasy worlds, he must have. But the next second he shook himself out of it, because you were real, you were real and in front of him and expecting him to say something.

“I’m Eddie.” he said, nodding his head as if to confirm his own statement.

“So I’ve been told.” Another giggle slipped past your lips, and Eddie wasnt sure if it was from nerves or entertainment, but he was dying to hear more of it, even if he had to make a fool of himself to do so.

Dustins head kept going back and forth as if watching a tennis match of idiocracy. He had never seen Eddie so flustered, so used to the man flaunting with every opportunity that presented itself that this seemed quite out of character. In full disclosure, it was kind of freaking him out to see Eddie so beside himself, and it was freaking him out even further that he couldn’t figure out why. It was probably blatantly obvious to anyone else, but maybe it was for the best that Dustin couldn’t place where the tension originated from, either way, his patience had run out

“Can we go home now, I still have to call Mike to discuss our net strategies” You tore your eyes from Eddie, deciding that maybe it was for the best to head home.

“Yeah alright, maybe I’ll see you around Eddie.” You gave him one last smile as you got in the car with Dustin and drove off, but it took him another minute to pick his shambled ego up from the concrete ground as he berated himself for not being able to utter one coherent sentence. As he got in his van and drove home as well he decided he’d have to grill Dustin for more information on you the next time he’d see him. As he got to the trailer he grumbled a hello to Wayne before disappearing to his room, ignoring the backhanded comment he got about his grumpy disposition.

He wondered if he’d ever be able to convince you he was cool, whether he’d be able to get you to agree to see him again, but after what just transpired he figured the odds were slim. Not that he’d give up so easily, he didn’t have much of a reputation to lose and if he’d be able to get you to laugh again that would be more than enough. But he didn’t get to wonder for long as Wayne knocked on his door, he was ready to tell the man to leave him alone, but the next sentence was one that confused him immensely

“Someone on the phone for you.” Wayne held the phone out to him, expecting him to get up from the bed and take it, but Eddie didn’t move an inch.

“For me, you sure?” He was still not quite sure what to do. “Unless another Eddie is living here I’m pretty sure.” He moved his hand again to accentuate the phone that was still on hold, but once again Eddie just sat there.

“If you want I can tell her to call back-” That’s when he sprung into action, snatching the phoen out of Wayne’s hand

“No! No, I got it. Thank you.” The old man simply chuckled as he left again, closing the door behind him to give his nephew some privacy.

Eddie cleared his throat once before picking up the line put on hold.

“Hello?” he asked, still not quite sure what to do.

“Hi, Eddie it’s me, just wanted to see if you were doing alright.” your sweet voice blessed his ears once more. He doesn’t know what he did to get the universe on his side like this, but he was grateful for it nonetheless.

“Yeah I’m good, listen-” Eddie figured this time he shouldn’t waste his chance, and he probably had some making up to do. “- I’m sorry if I freaked you out earlier, just never seen anyone that pretty before.” You were giggling again, and it brought the biggest grin onto his face. “You didn’t weird me out at all, it was kinda cute. I had to bribe Dustin to let me use the phone so I don’t have much time but I was wondering if maybe you’d like to go out this weekend?” Maybe he should’ve waited a beart before answering, but he was too eager to care.

“Go out, as in a date?” It got him blushing, the red creeping up on his cheeks as he wondered if that’s really what you were asking

“I mean, kinda, if you want to.” He could almost see you blushing on the other side of the line as well, and he decided it was now or never.

“I’d love to.”

“That’s great, I’m still kind of new around here, do you know any good places?” Your smile was present as you spoke, and he was already looking forward to seeing it again, now knowing he wouldn’t have to wait long.

“How about I come and pick you up, we can go to the mall.” His confidence was growing with the minute now, absolutely elated by the turn of events.

“Im looking forward to it” He wondered what you’d wear, knowing whatever it was it would look beautiful on you, and he knew he’d spend the entire date amazed at your presence.

“Me too” he said before the both of you hung up the phone, he had already started planning the most amazing evening out, and maybe, he thought, maybe this year really would take a turn for the better.

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bitterkarella · 4 months

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Midnight Pals: X-Men

Stephen King: Submitted for the approval of the midnight society, i call this the tale of when the X-Men fought the literal embodiment of hunger King: it was for a charity comic Poe: oh right right of course Lovecraft: of course Barker: gotcha Koontz: wowww! x men!!

King: so kitty pryde goes to the get some food King: but then suddenly King: she starts losing weight! King: now normally King: i think that sort of this is good King: usually i think the opposite is way scarier King: but this time King: it's bad

King: what's the cause of Kitty Pryde's unnatural weight loss? King: it's the evil mutant ghost embodiment of hunger King: the monstrous force known as King: "hungry" Barker: ba ha ha ha Poe: clive

Barker: "Hungry!?" King: yeah, his name is hungry Barker: like, the adjective? King: yeah i Barker: ah ha ha ha King: i don't see whats so funny King: yeah, his name is hungry King: see, this one time he said to his dad "i'm hungry" King: and his dad said "hi hungry, i'm dad"

King: anyway the point is that its about kitty pryde King: that super hero you all know and love Koontz: i like superman! superman is the best super hero King: ha ha well dean you're certainly entitled to your opinion King: there's no reason for us to fight King: King:

Alan Moore: [appearing in a clap of thunder] who dares call upon the arch magus? King: we need you to settle an argument Moore: speak your question, mortal, and gain wisdom King: who's the best superhero Moore: Moore: do you have any questions that aren't about that

Moore: the arch magus can see through time, control the very movements of the cosmos Moore: and you dare to ask a question about comic books King: well i just thought since you love comics so- Moore: the answer is herbie popnecker King: Moore: herbie popnecker is the best super hero

King: i'm sorry, herbie popnecker? Moore: yes herbie popnecker King: Koontz: Barker: Poe: Lovecraft: Moore: "you want i should bop you with my lollipop?" Moore: haha it doesn't get old!

Moore: i must now return to my mountain fortress [disappears in a clap of thunder] King: Koontz: Poe: Barker: Lovecraft:

#midnight pals #the midnight society #midnight society #stephen king #clive barker #edgar allan poe #dean koontz #hp lovecraft #alan moore

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th0ti-th0ts · 10 months

Text

just desserts

hobie brown x reader, miguel o’hara x reader (implied)

summary: leave it to the big guy to be so damn obvious. if only it wasn't this fun for hobie to mess with him.

or: hobie exploits miguel’s one weakness for some shits and giggles (but also to stick it to The Man).

cw: fluff but hobie makes some innuendos. jealous!miguel, miguel who can't admit his feelings, hobie who knows this and knows he has more game and takes full advantage of this

You’re talking to Hobie when his attention is captured by something behind you. His gaze shifts as he raises a brow challengingly, mouth pulled into a cocky slant. It’s quick, quick enough that most people wouldn’t catch it, but you’re not most people. Not with your reflexes.

“—And I was—Hobie? Something wrong?”

You’ve got his attention again. “Yeah, luv? Sorry ‘bout that, got somethin’ in my eye.” He wraps an arm around your shoulder, and gives you a lazy grin. "Distracted me fro' your beauty for a minute."

You roll your eyes as you continue to tell your tale, Hobie listening to you with the kind of careless intensity that only he could pull off. While his flirtatious comments could be construed as something more, he says them with such a dry wit that it's hardly anything more than friendly. As the the two of you meander down the line of the cafeteria, grabbing whatever food spikes your interest, his arm remains a steady presence around you. Again, you don’t think much of it—Hobie's a touchy guy with his closest friends.

“Ya’ ever wonder 'ow these futuristic blokes come up wit’ some o’ these pop flavors?" he asks you, holding a can of soda in his hand as he languid reads off the label. "‘Sparkling orange cream cider with a 'int of lime...'" He pulls a face. "Sounds mad.”

You laugh. “It’s actually kinda good. Peter recommended it to me last time.”

He looks at you, surprised. “Huh." And then, with a hint of suspicion, he asks, "...Which Peter? Ya' can't trust all ov' their taste buds...”

With his arm around you, Hobie steers the two of you around the cafeteria, and you end up accidentally bumping into the person next to you in line. The two of you continue to chat--that is, until you hear someone clear their throat meaningfully. You glance behind you, unaware of the challenging glean in Hobie's cool gaze.

"Oh, hi, Miguel! I don't think I've ever seen you out here before."

He raises a brow. In his hand is a box of the empanadas he loves so much.

"I do... eat, you know."

Miguel's usual dry and blunt manner of speaking has hardly deterred you before.

"Yeah, but I don't think you really leave that dinky, dark room of yours," you say thoughtfully, to which Hobie snorts next to you. His body shakes with the effort to contain his amusement. Your eyes widen. "I—I didn't mean it like that!"

"I know what you mean," Miguel cuts you off. He jabs the empanada before him with tongs, puncturing its shell. His irritation is palpable. Maybe he's having a bad day? "I..." He sighs heavily, surveying the two of you, his gaze lingering on your shoulder. "Just felt like a change of scenery."

"Or at least I did," he mutters, but you don't quite catch it.

"Sorry?"

"Nothing."

"'Ey, 'ey. Look wha' we got 'ere." Hobie, the ever keen observer, steers you around Miguel, to direct your attention to today's dessert on the menu. Your eyes widen at the various flavors of cupcakes before you. You fucking love cupcakes.

"Lemme guess," Hobie says. "You're a chocolate kinda gal?" He snags a cupcake for each of you. Just as he hands it to you though, you're distracted by the sound of tongs clattering.

You glance to your right, only for Hobie to end up smearing some of the cupcake's icing across your cheek. You blink in surprise.

"Hey!"

"Oops." An amused smirk stretches Hobie's face. “Made a mess o' yourself, looks like it."

"You're the one who did it!"

Hobie puts his palms up, stating solemnly, "All's wort' it in pursuit of something sweet."

You glower at him, rubbing your cheek. "Did I get it?"

He shakes his head. "Nope." You rub again. "A lit'le to the left. Nope… Is a bit like finding a needle in a 'aystack for you, innit? Lemme help.”

Hobie’s thumb comes up to your cheek, swiping the suspect away. You scrunch your nose up, to which he makes a satisfied noise in his throat.

"Almos' regret doin' that. Ya' pull off the 'cream on ya' face' look."

You roll your eyes at the obvious innuendo, smacking his chest. “Hobie. Not in public!”

He shrugs unapologetically.

CRCKK.

The sound of cardboard crumpling meets your ears. The both of you turn around.

“Ay, chingados,” Miguel curses at his crushed box, meat and veggie filling from his empanadas splayed across the ground. He kicks the box away, before slamming his hand onto the counter. Hunched over, a hand tensely massaging his brow as he mutters, “Maldito sea. Estoy harto de ver esta mierda amorosa."

You raise a brow. You think you hear Hobie mutter something to the effect of, "Stickin' it to the big guy one step a' a time," and you're certainly not sure what that means. Miguel stops only when he notices you and everyone in the cafeteria watching him. He straightens up, and clears his throat before summoning his AI.

“Lyla, just have someone bring food to my room,” he grumbles.

"Roger that," she says.

And then Miguel is stalking away before either of you know it.

You watch his retreating back curiously. "I wonder what that was about..." you think aloud.

“No idea,” Hobie drawls. Of course, it's a lie, or as Hobie likes to think of it, a covert truth. He salutes in Miguel's direction.

Leave it to the big guy to be so damn obvious. If only it wasn't this fun to mess with him. And... Hobie glances down at you. If only you realized how much power you held over him.

Both of them, really.

—

translations:

estoy harto de ver esta mierda amorosa = i'm sick of seeing all this lovey-dovey shit

the other phrases are just a bunch of cursing lmao

#hobie x reader #Miguel x reader #hobie brown x reader #miguel o'hara x reader #atsv x reader #atsv imagine #lmao this was fun to write #I was a little iffy about making hobie too flirt tho so I tried to tone it down hoduhodushfd

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luveline · 11 months

Note

Hiiii, I don’t know if you’re up for any marauders requests- so no pressure!!

If you are though, I recently sprained my wrist pretty (really) bad at work and have been not great about taking care of it, resting, ect.

If it’s not too much trouble- could I get a lil thing about the marauders absolutely doting on reader over an injury? Like so soft and sweet it could give you diabetes.

Thank you!!!

hope this is okay sweetness! fem!reader, 2k

"She's trying to stand up again," James says, finger hooked in your belt loop.

You glare at him down on the sofa. "Tattle tale," you scold. It's hard to maintain; he looks very sweet today, everyday, and more than handsome.

Remus stands in the doorway to the living room, the smell of the honey tea he's making on his heels. "Why, dove?" he asks, sounding amusedly horrified. "Can't you stay still for ten minutes?"

"I just thought I'd help with the tea," you say, taking a painful step toward him. James gasps and actually stands himself.

Your eyes widen. James is more of a threat-giver than an enforcer. He loves telling on you or better yet enabling your bad behaviour, but if he's getting up it means he won't be allowing you any further self-detriment.

"Be gentle," Remus says.

James raises his eyebrows at you and crowds you, hands on your hips. He gives you a little push. "Sit back down."

You sit, and your ankle feels better for it immediately, but you cross your arms over your chest and huff so they know you don't appreciate being bossed around. James laughs, more than aware.

"It's for your own good," he says.

Remus returns with your tea and you say thanks even though you're pretending to be annoyed with them both. "I would like to be allowed to get my own tea," you say, pleased when James sits back at your side with his own cup of tea, his arm heavy against you. "It's not as bad as you think it is, I promise."

"You have a bruise bigger than Jersey on your ankle and…" James lowers his voice slightly, "I know it's hurting even when you aren't standing. You get a notch between your brows, right here," he says, tapping the space above your nose.

"The less you use it the quicker it will get better," Remus says.

"That logic only applies to injury," says a new voice. The front door closes, and after a second Sirius appears in his coat and jacket. "The more you use me, the better I get." He winks at you.

You wink back. Delighted, Sirius peels out of his coat and shoes and swiftly takes the empty seat on your left. He kisses your cheek hello, his slender fingers tucked deftly behind your ear so he can turn your face to his.

"Have you been resting?" he asks.

"No," Remus and James say at the same time.

"She's done the opposite," James adds.

"Yes, well, she's not perfect." He shakes his head at you hurriedly, mouthing, "You are perfect."

You know he's joking but you get all melted, tight shoulders lax, head dipping back against the sofa cushions. Sirius hums his approval and strokes your cheek with his thumb. He's not usually the most affectionate of the boys, but when you're injured he acts like you're on your deathbed and deserving of the world's collective sweetness.

"How was work?" you ask him.

"Agony," he says quietly, and he's putting it on, trying to make you squirm. It's working. "I was worried about you."

"I take offence to that," James says.

"I know you're taking care of her," Sirius says, "don't be daft, I just know she won't behave. Especially if I'm not here."

Half of a biscuit soars toward Sirius and hits him in the chest. Entertained, you follow its trajectory back to the source and find Remus in the big armchair, cup of tea cradled atop his knee. "What?" he asks, seemingly chewing the first half of the biscuit.

"Sirius–" James warns.

"Prick," Sirius says.

Remus swallows his biscuit and takes a sip of tea. "Oh, sorry. Slipped."

"Why have you chucked a biscuit at me?" Sirius asks.

James takes the biscuit and eats it. You laugh from behind your hand.

"No reason. Y/N, dovey, do you want a biscuit?" Remus asks you.

You nod and start to stand to retrieve one, but two arms grab your waist. James' arm, tan, steely without any effort, stops you from getting any further. Sirius', less strong but twice as eager, pulls you into his side with a groan.

"Please sit down," he says.

You sigh and let your head drop onto James' shoulder. "I'm sitting. I just want a biscuit."

Remus sits on the coffee table in front of you with a funny look on his face, a mixture of love and disbelief. "I was bringing them to you." He squeezes the tin closed in his lap, his eyes resolutely on yours so you're forced to meet his gaze. He's handsome, too, they all are, but Remus doesn't know it, unaware of the effect his eyes have on you, the colour like browned honey and the little specks of amber that surround his pupil. "I'll give you a biscuit if you promise to stop making it worse."

"Really," James seconds, "we want you to get better, that's all."

You slouch further into his shoulder, away from their doting concern. "It's not as bad as you think it is."

That's a bad lie. You and Sirius had been walking back up the garden steps after a red squirrel stakeout —the squirrels keep eating from Remus' bird feeders and therefore scaring away the birds— and you slipped in a strange way. You ended up sprawled out on your back and you'd burst into laughter, while Sirius looked down on you absolutely horrified. It was only later, an hour or so afterwards, when you'd been helped up and placed affectionately in bed, that your ankle started to ache, and you found you couldn't put any weight on it after all. Your panicked tears had terrified the three of them. They've been ridiculously lovely since then.

"Maybe I could have another look?" Remus asks.

It's a well-organised dance when you're together, and this part's no different. Remus hands the biscuit tin to James as he stands, and Sirius pushes the table back with his foot so Remus has room to kneel down in front of you. James opens the biscuit tin and knows your favourite without having to ask, offering it to you as Remus straightens out your leg.

"Is this compression thing a good idea all of the time?" Sirius asks.

Remus pulls it down, humming as you hiss in pain. "Oh, I know, dove. I'll be really quick," he promises.

"It's not so horribly bruised," James says.

"I hate that we're all looking at my foot right now."

Remus squeezes your toes. If you weren't wearing a sock under the compression support you'd have to break up with him.

"I think it looks less swollen," he says eventually, rolling up your sock and putting the compression back into the proper place. You gasp at the sudden movement and his brows crease in sympathy. "Sorry, dove."

"Let's elevate it, right?" James asks.

"Yes, I think so. I'll get you a pillow," Remus says.

He stands up, turns to leave, and then turns back to press a kiss to your temple.

"Me too," Sirius says, kissing your cheek.

Having refused to move from James' shoulder in your embarrassment, you're out of the way for James to kiss you too, and it's a good thing. Anymore sweetness and you'd probably melt into the threads of the sofa.

"I'll owe you one," James says.

Remus gets a pillow to prop up your foot. James becomes your dedicated human blanket. Sirius looks for a film to watch on the telly while discussing takeaway options, even when Remus claims that he's going to cook tonight.

"Takeaway is too expensive," Remus says.

"Cooking makes a mess that you'll insist on cleaning," Sirius argues.

"Takeaway also makes a mess," James says.

"We can't cook because I can't help," you declare. "And that's not fair. You guys will all be laughing and flirting in the kitchen and I'll be sat here by my lonesome watching Footloose."

"Footloose isn't on until ten," Sirius says, looking at the TV info bar with a smile, "you'd be watching Night Rider."

Remus holds his hand out from the armchair. It's miles from reaching you, but you know he's suggesting an alliance. "How about," he begins softly, "we have a takeaway and those two can do whatever they want."

"Remus," James says.

You stand up on your uninjured foot. The boys groan at your moving but don't argue, letting you limp to the armchair where Remus is sitting with little more than a chorus of defeated sighs. He puts his arms out for you, his hands and grip strong as he helps you down into the seat next to him. There's not really enough room for two, but he makes it, his arm crossing over your chest and under your arm to lock you in against him.

"This is ridiculous," James says.

Sirius shuffles across the sofa into the gap you've left behind. "We could always hide the menus," he says to James. "Neither of them know the numbers. Plus, she can't walk and he can't be bothered."

Remus pulls you in impossibly closer. "That's true."

The two boys opposite spring up from their seats, laughing as they begin plotting a cruel plan. You rub your fingertips up and down the length of the arm holding you, letting your head flop back into Remus' chest as you say, "They'll realise they like us too much to starve us soon enough."

"I know." His hold on you relaxes. "I really do wish you'd stop putting weight on your foot. Please. It needs time to get better."

"Okay," you say, a sucker for him when he talks so softly. "Sorry. No more walking around while it heals."

"Don't be sorry, just get better quickly. I need reinforcements against their nonsense."

"You love their nonsense."

James and Sirius return looking pleased with themselves not long after, and an hour passes quietly. When the doorbell rings, you're unsurprised to find they've ordered your favourite takeaway.

"You're predictable," Remus says.

"Well," Sirius says, lifting his chin, arms laden with cartons, "how else is she supposed to get better? She needs food."

In an example of extreme overkill, Remus and James act as crutches, helping you walk the short distance from the living room to the kitchen table. You're surprised James doesn't just attempt to pick you up in a fireman's lift, as is his usual style.

Sirius sets the table. Remus makes drinks. James doles out the portions of food, knowing what everyone wants without having to ask, and you miss being able to help. You're usually moving with them, an integral thread, ebbing and flowing in tandem. It's nice to watch them together, but you miss doing your part. James' hand warm on your hip as he eases you out of the way, or Sirius' childish attempts at tripping you up on the way to the silverware drawer.

"Sorry for being so useless lately," you say, twisting the fork in your hand over and over.

Three glares pierce you at once. "Who says you're useless?" James asks.

"You're out of commission for the moment," Remus says agreeably, "that's far from useless."

"I feel bad, having you wait on me. I know I'm making it worse all the time by refusing to just rest but I don't like you having to do everything for me, it's not fair."

Sirius sits down in the chair beside yours, tucking himself in quickly. "You realise that we'd look after you forever, right? Like, if you needed this much help and looking after every day, that wouldn't be a problem."

You shake your head. "Don't be silly."

James clears his throat. "No, listen to him. He's right."

"We don't mind helping you to the table, or carrying your washing downstairs for you, or any of the things we've offered to do for you since you hurt your ankle."

Remus sits in the seat across from you with a pointed look. James joins him, a packet of painkillers in hand. He pops two out for you, saying, "You're not useless just because we've had to give you some help. And if you were useless it wouldn't matter. So don't say sorry."

Remus nods. "Exactly. Don't feel guilty about an accident, dove."

You look at Sirius unsurely. "You really don't mind looking after me?"

He reaches over to handle your thigh. "No," he says, gaze soft, fingers squeezing into the fat of your leg lovingly, "we really don't mind."

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cringe-but-proud · 4 months

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Hi! You must’ve JUST posted while I was searching a tag! WELCOME to the crowd of other amateur writers who have no idea what we’re doing!

I have a request for a short fanfic/drabble! Wonka 2023 where fem!reader is a storyteller who worked in the laundry room when Willy arrives. Reader is closer with Noodle and usually tells her bedtime stories before going to sleep, and Willy comes to admire the vast imagination in the stories while falling in love, to Noodle’s joy. I haven’t had the motivation to write in a long time, so I hope you’d be up to trying to get the story out of my head!

Hi! Thanks sm for the request. Hope I could do your idea justice lol

Willy Wonka x Storyteller!Fem!Reader (Wonka 2023)

Warnings: None, I think. Sort of just a cute fluffy one.

Three years ago, you made the worst and most unforgivable mistake of your life: Taking a shower at Ms. Scrubbit's hotel.

To make a fairly short story shorter, you neglected to read the small print, leading to you being in a massive debt to her. So, for the next 5 years of your life, you'd be forced to work in a dirty, old laundry room.

You were absolutely miserable at first. Your days dragged by and your nights were mostly spent curled up in your bed crying. But, once you accepted your situation, you found a way to make the days go by faster: Making up stories in your head while you worked.

You'd always had quite the creative mind; so, weaving tales of magic and wonder was a fun way to spend your time.

Plus, Noodle always liked to hear your stories before she went to sleep.

But, recently you'd earned another fan of your stories.

Willy was the newest person who was unfortunate enough to end up down here. And lately he'd started sitting at the desk in Noodle's room every night, tinkering with new chocolate recipes or practicing his reading and writing skills, while you told Noodle a bedtime story.

But, according to noodle, he was actually in there just to listen to you. Supposedly, the moment you left, he'd turn to noodle and the two would discuss whatever story you'd told that night.

If that was true, you were honored.

One night, Noodle and Willy snuck out of the laundry room to do who knows what. And a couple hours later, Noodle returned without Willy. She told you all about the adventure they had which apparently included milking a giraffe, flamingos, and a run in with the police.

Her recount of the night was entertaining, and you were glad she's had fun. But, you couldn't help but feel a bit worried for Willy. "So, what's gonna happen to Willy?" You asked. "Is he getting arrested?"

Noodle shook her head. "He told me he'd talk his way out of it." She said as she got into bed. She tilted her head at you. "Do you like him?"

"What?" You flushed.

"Like, do you wanna be his girlfriend?"

"I-" You were about to say no, but that wasn't entirely true. You admired him. He had a brilliant mind, and he was unbelievably handsome. "Okay, how about I tell you a story?"

"So, you do wanna be his girlfriend."

"Story is beginning now."

Later in the night, you were in your own room, about to settle in for bed when someone knocked at your door.

You furrowed your brows in confusion, getting up to open the door for whoever it was.

"Hey." Willy greeted. "Sorry if I woke you up." His hair looked wet which was strange, but you were more concerned with why he was at your door.

"Don't worry, I wasn't asleep. Are you okay?"

"Yeah, yeah. I'm fine. I was just wondering if... Uh, did you tell Noodle a story while I was gone?"

You nodded. "I did."

He seemed a little disheartened, which made you feel bad. "I'm sure noodle can retell you the story tomorrow." You offered, trying to lighten his mood.

"She could. But, the way you... I mean... You have a wonderful, imaginative, beautiful mind. And the way you tell your stories, it's amazing! You could read me a grocery list, and I'd be on the edge of my seat." He gushed.

You couldn't help but blush. "You think all of that?"

"Yes! How could I not?" He gave you an affectionate smile.

You returned him smile. "I mean... I could tell the story to you right now, if you want."

Willy thought about it. "It's alright. I think I can go without a story for one night." He said reassuringly.

"You sure?"

"Yeah. Thanks for the offer, though."

He began to step away from your door, saying a quick goodnight before he began walking toward his room.

"Wait, Willy." He stopped and turned to you.

You walked up to him and kissed his cheek. Willy blushed. "What was that for?"

You shrugged. "To make up for the story you missed out on?" You offered.

Willy smiled and gave you a quick peck on the lips.

"What was that for?" You asked this time.

"Just cause I like you." He replied as he leaned in to kiss you again.

#Wonka 2023 x reader #willy wonka x reader #wonka x reader #x reader #fanfiction

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nahoney22 · 6 months

Note

How about how the bad batch boys (female reader) react to you giving them unexpected HUG? 🫂 because we all need a hug in our lives 😊 as fluffy as you can make it please! Congratulations on 4000 followers 😊

Unexpected First Hug

The Bad Batch X F!Reader

warnings: Mostly fluff, maybe a mention or two of reader feeling down/homesick. First hug with the Bad Batch. Some mutual pining if you squint. Female reader but can probably be read as GN too. Crosshair reunited with brothers. Not proofread.

authors note: thank you for the request! Enjoy some hugs 🫂

Echo 🤍

You missed him.

Actually, you found yourself missing him. deeply. But Echo's decision to go with Rex and Senator Chuchi had filled you with pride. However, as days turned into weeks, the void left by his absence grew more noticeable.

When you said your goodbyes, something felt incomplete. Perhaps words left unsaid or a simple handshake would have sufficed. But in the solitude of your bunk, thoughts of him kept creeping into your mind, and you couldn't help but picture him right beside you.

Then came the day when Echo surprised everyone by announcing his return to Pabu. Excitement surged through your stomach, eager to hear his tales and, most of all, to just be close to him again.

What neither of you expected, judging by the surprise on Echo's face, was when, as soon as he hopped off the gangplank, you raced over, outpacing even Omega and Hunter, and embraced him.

Your arms encircled his shoulders, your chest flushed against his, and Echo stammered your name in astonishment at the unexpected impact.

“H-Hello,” he appeared flustered by the emotion, and yet, the hug, something you'd never shared before, just felt so right.

“Hi, sorry I just,” you pulled away yet your arms lingered around his shoulders, “really missed you.”

You see his eyes widen ever so slightly and a shy smile etched on his face. “Oh, well, I missed you too.” He says softly, hands ever so gently placing onto your hips. “A lot.”

Hunter 🤍

“Hey, come with me.”

Hunter's voice pulled you from your thoughts as you observed Omega playing outside. You turned to face him on the gangplank, watching as he disappears inside.

You followed him back into the ship, a curious brow raised, inquiring about his intentions.

As you walked, you asked, "What do you want?" But Hunter remained tight-lipped until he stopped and faced you, arms folded. "What do you think?"

You stood before him, perplexed. "What do I think about what?"

"Your new helmet," he replied with a mischievous smirk, moving aside to reveal - of course - a brand new helmet.

For weeks, you'd been pestering Hunter for some equipment, just to enhance your safety and readiness on missions. His responses had usually been along the lines of 'maybe one day' or 'not right now,' which was understandable, given the constant struggle for credits.

Your excitement couldn't be contained as you exclaimed, "No way!" You eagerly picked up the helmet, admiring its design and paint job.

Hunter asked, "So, will that do?"

Instead of a simple "yes," you showed your gratitude by wrapping your arms around Hunter's waist, drawing him into an embrace.

Hunter felt his skin warm at the unexpected contact, and he awkwardly patted your back, his mind racing with thoughts of doing more, but uncertainty held him back. "I'll take that as a yes then," he chuckled softly, instantly missing the warmth of your touch as you pulled away.

In his own thoughts, he berated himself, thinking, "Idiot!" for not giving you a proper hug in return but seeing you ecstatic with your new gear was enough to satisfy him.

Wrecker 🤍

"Hey, are you comin'—what's wrong?"

Wrecker's voice broke through your thoughts at a vulnerable moment. You were overwhelmed with homesickness, and as you sought solace, Wrecker happened to discover you wiping away tears from your cheeks.

You put on a brave face, replying with a soft laugh, "Oh, nothing, don't worry. Just homesick." You felt grateful as he quietly took a seat beside you.

"Yeah, bet it's not easy being away from home when you're with us lot!" Wrecker said with a sheepish grin, but your smile didn't quite reach your eyes. Sensing your distress, Wrecker gently wrapped his arms around your shoulders, and despite your efforts to contain your emotions, tears began to flow.

Your lips quivered, and tears streamed down your cheeks. You turned into Wrecker, wrapped your arms around his neck, and pulled yourself close to him.

The contact initially stunned him, and he wore a shocked expression, but as he felt your tears on his neck and saw you burying your face, he sighed softly and embraced you just as wholeheartedly. His large hands gently rubbed your back, offering you the comfort you desperately needed.

Tech 🤍

"I believe I have something of yours," Tech announced as he walked into the cockpit, instantly piquing your curiosity. You couldn't quite recall giving him anything of yours, so you shot him a confused look. In response, he raised your datapad and playfully wiggled it in the air. "You should be careful where you leave things, especially during missions."

Your stomach plummeted, and your jaw dropped. You felt foolish for being so careless. Hunter had always stressed the importance of keeping your gear with you. The potential consequences of someone finding your device and tracking the others' locations weighed heavily on your mind. In a hushed tone, you asked, "Does Hunter know?" To your relief, Tech shook his head.

"I thought I'd do you the decency of giving you a warning. If it were Hunter who had discovered your oversight, the consequences would have been far more severe." Tech's reminder left you both relieved and also sincerely grateful for his discretion.

You stood up quickly, taking the device from Tech's grasp, and expressed your gratitude, saying, "Honestly, Tech, thank you. You didn't have to do that."

Tech remained nonchalant, replying, "I'm aware." But then, you took a step towards him. He watched you curiously, not used to being so close to you and especially as you gently wrapped your arms around his waist and pulled yourself into a hug, chin resting just in his shoulder.

He nearly dropped his own datapad at the unexpected physical contact, feeling his heart thump in his chest at the unfamiliar sensation. Tech had never been hugged before, and having someone he was growing fond of embrace him was certainly intriguing.

"Thanks again," you whisper softly in his ear before pulling away, leaving him in a state of surprise and curiosity.

Crosshair 🤍

You had been sitting there for a while, twiddling your thumbs and contemplating how to express your immense appreciation for Crosshair after the day's mission. He had saved you from a dangerous situation, and thanks to him, you were still alive and kicking. However, Crosshair was known for his intense and stoic demeanor, and you hadn't seen much gratitude directed his way since reuniting with his brothers and Omega. But, you wanted to change that. It was about time.

As you watched him at his makeshift shooting range, knocking down old canisters and bottles, you slowly made your way beside him.

"Don't say anything," he stated without even looking at you as you approached, causing you to pause with your words caught in your throat. You had anticipated this reaction from him, but you still felt the need to express your feelings.

"But—"

"Don't," he interrupted, lowering his rifle and glancing over his shoulder at you, his steely eyes piercing through you. "It was... nothing," he grumbled before turning his gaze away.

To him, maybe.

Disheartened, you turned to walk away, but an impulse tugged at you. You turned back to him and boldly wrapped your arms around him, pressing your cheek against his back.

Crosshair took a deep breath and stumbled slightly in his spot. But he didn't push you away. In fact, for a brief moment, he lowered his head and allowed the embrace. He hadn't felt this level of comfort in a long time. His rifle fell to the ground, and for a moment, he considered resting his hand on your arms, to touch you in return, but he resisted, not wanting to reveal his vulnerability at that moment.

"Alright, get off," he finally said after just a few seconds.

As you let go, he looked back at you however and there was just a faint hint of a smile. "You're welcome."

Masterlist

Tags: @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @kixs-husband @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @raevulsix @imalovernotahater @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @photogirl894 @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness 🧡🧡

#the bad batch one shots #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #tech x reader #Hunter x reader #wrecker x reader #echo x reader #crosshair x reader #tbb

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masterkeynobi · 6 months

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usually i loathe when a protagonist gets turned into a "bad" parent in a sequel series but tortall does it so well and so realistically that i can't help but think it'd be ooc any other way. of course alanna is gruff and sometimes unkind and not always present. of course jonathan must do what is best for realm and reputation; of course he's king first, father second. jon's parenting style is visible from the start in how roald acts during his page years — jon as a page sees ralon held down and beaten for the crime of bothering little alan; roald, much as he wants to, can't so much as join kel on her nighttime patrols for fear of how it'd look. jon takes alanna on as a squire because they're good friends & lovers; roald has had his knight-master picked out for him for years before he's even made a squire.

alanna gets along well enough with alan and thom, her knightling and her scholar, but she can't for the life of her understand how aly works. in my opinion this has something to do both with the fact that aly is a lot more like george in the most dangerous ways and with the fact that aly is rather significantly more of a Girl than alanna ever was. alanna had no (0) female friends growing up and only one older female mentor figure. she grew up and still lives the vast majority of her life surrounded by men of similar status. is it any surprise she finds her sons easier to talk to?

there's a passing sentence in trickster's choice that alludes to aly having once been jealous of how effusive her mother was about keladry of mindelan. i can't help but think also about kalasin ii of conté, kally whose mother's people are matrilineal, kally who should by rights have been her mother's heir. kally who calls the lioness aunt and wanted as a child nothing more than to be a knight, who will spend the rest of her life in carthak and likely never see a lady knight again. i think she was jealous of kel too, but in the opposite direction. aly couldn't and wouldn't be who kel was, too protective of her own freedom and too much like her father to ever want a shield. aly envied the easy understanding alanna had of kel's ambitions and grit. kalasin had those same ambitions but never got the chance to show that same grit. kalasin spent the four years of kel's page training at king's reach learning to be an empress.

it's the. not wanting and choosing not to do vs the wanting and not having the choice. it's the jealousy someone so distant from alanna got so much of her attention when her interactions with her own daughter were constantly snippy vs the thought that kally should've been there first, should've gotten to prove the conservatives wrong, should've been able to show kel around and shield (ha) her from the worst of their ire. no little girls will grasp wide-eyed for tales of aly cooper or empress kalasin the same way they do for the lioness and lady kel. i don't think aly minds, but i think kalasin very, very quietly does.

#sree.txt #tortall #aly cooper #kalasin of conté #keladry of mindelan #alanna the lioness #jonathan of conté #sorry for the recent verbose tortallposting it will likely continue #also everyone on the planet needs to read in the perfection of conduct and virtues by rain_sleet_snow on ao3 #lifechanging fic i simply cant stop rotating kally in my mindcrowave now

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heliiacus · 2 months

Text

dopamine rush

tags: armin x reader, fingering, semi-public sex, (technically empty) library sex, reader has implied ADHD, studying together, reader uses she/her pronouns

warnings: sexual content, MDNI

words: 3.2k

★Oh, but you know this one. A bad habit of studying late into the night with your study partner is never truly a bad one, right? What could ever go wrong, sans the little lack of sleep? Surely, your good grades speak for it.

★ Until one night when you are crunching, until one night when you can't focus; until the moment your impassive study partner offers to get you off in order to help you study more.

★ Spoiler alert: Armin Arlert is not impassive, neither is he cool, and neither is he as indifferent about this predicament as he first pretends to be.

To his credit, Armin only seems to lose his composure with her on her third indignant launch of the pen across the table.

It was an accident. Really, it was.

"Are you having trouble focusing?" He asks, even and calm, but when she turns to him, she sees the tell-tale spark in his eyes, staring her down with an equal indignation that her pen must now be feeling. Fiery in its nature, it is short-lived, and soon Armin sighs, the tension leaving his shoulders just as quick as it had settled into them.

"I'm sorry," she offers, smiling sheepishly when he stands to take her pen. "I'm so stressed about this exam that I can't even focus on it anymore," she admits, and then reaches her hand out to take her pen.

His eyes meet hers when he hands it over. His hand curls around her fingers, pressing them into a fist around the pen.

"I know," he says, sitting down, and then she watches as he exhales heavily, closing his laptop without another word. "I didn't mean to snap," he tells her quietly, turning to look at her again. "Let's take a break?"

"I don't know if it will help, but let's," she says, and her eyes linger on the document in front of her before her laptop flickers into a blackness. "Studying past midnight was a mistake."

"It was your idea," Armin says as he leans his chin on his hand, and she can't help but return the coyness in his smile.

"Look here, Mr. Smugness," she points her pen at him. "It usually is a good idea."

"Mhmm," he hums, the note dragging, and his eyes squint as he grins at her. "And it's not tonight, because?"

She sighs then, letting the pen roll onto the table. "Fuck knows," she admits, then leans backwards, letting her head rest on the back of the chair. "My focus has a mind of its own. Usually, adrenaline helps, what with the dopamine, you know?" Armin nods at her, following her and leaning his head on his chair, too. "But I think I'm too in my head to focus now."

Armin takes a moment before he replies, watching her wordlessly. It is unnerving, in a way; sitting across him at night, alone in a large building. Not another soul can be seen in the library with them, and though she has been alone with Armin before, this time feels... Different.

Perhaps she is tired, she thinks.

Perhaps it is the way he watches her, now: observing her in a way she has not noticed before, his large, warm eyes following the shifting of her body, as if she were inscrutable to him. Or perhaps the opposite.

"But you'll do fine. You do know that, right?" He finally asks, snapping her back to him, and though the anxiety sticks to her, she feels pleased at how assured he sounds when he says so.

"Sure," she quips, not trying to start a disagreement, and he laughs at her, sharp and quick.

"You will. You always do." She feels his foot nudge her ankle, and she smiles in response. "We could stop tonight. Get some sleep, start again tomorrow."

"Do you think we can afford that? We're a bit short on time here."

Armin hums in response, looking up. She watches as he straightens his back, then rubs the back of his neck, and she wonders if he, too, feels stressed by the exam, or if his aloofness is natural; if his confidence is keeping him in check.

He picks up her pen once again, his thumb gliding against its edge. "..We should continue," he finally states, eyeing the pen. "At least a few more hours."

His eyes rise to meet hers, and she finds a streak of regret there. Worry, even.

"I agree," she says, nodding, and now it is her who bumps her shoe against his, trying to ease the worry out of him.

"Can I help you in any way?" He offers earnestly, straightening his back. "Sugar helps with focus, no? I could run get you something."

She clears her throat, waving her hand haphazardly in the direction of the opened snacks on the corner of her desk. "Magic trick didn't help this time."

"Exercising?"

"Why do you think I've been walking back and forth so much?" She asks, laughing, and he sighs in response, falling deep in thought.

It is then that something passes through him; an idea, she is sure, but clear as day she can see it stick to him, something akin to hot wax, and then he looks at her, eyes steeled and shoulders tense in an aloof sort of discomfort. She thinks he will say something then, but he only leans backwards, eyeing her with a look she can't quite discern, and though she thinks she should feel uncomfortable, she finds, instead, her palms burning beneath his pinning gaze.

He hums then, short and decisive, and she knows he has made his decision by the way his shoulders ease. He inches closer to her then, just enough to seem a tinge conspiratorial, before he tells her: "Didn't you say before that orgasms help with focus? Massive dopamine boost, and all that."

She sucks in a breath. Is she surprised? No, she finds that she is not. She thinks a part of hers was ready for that question, watching as mischief swirls in Armin's eyes, and despite this territory being new and unbreached with him, her shoulders ease with it. She can't help the laugh that bubbles out of her.

"You want me to sneak off to the bathroom, Armin?" She teases, watching as his head tilts ever so slightly at her words, and it is only for a moment that she feels pinned, once again, under his watchful gaze.

It’s so short, this moment. It thins and thins as it passes, stretching between them in an odd spiral of indiscernible emotions that strings itself through her. Then, just like that, it snaps open, and then, just as simply, he tells her: "I could help."

And there is a short, undulating second where he looks shocked and taken aback, as if the words have left his mouth without his permission, but it is gone so swiftly, so effortlessly, that she thinks she may have imagined it. Then, pen twirling in his fingers, his gaze sharpens and calms before her. When she doesn't reply, he asks her, with an indifference that almost soothes her: "Would you like me to?"

She isn't quite sure where her voice has gone; to the back of her head, or to her chest, or to the burning skin at her throat, but she is sure of the electricity that wreaks through her, and her eyes flit between him and the circling pen in his hand. She watches, breathlessly, as his other hand settles firmly on the table between them, and curse him as she might, she thinks of that hand.

"Maybe," she finally lets out, the word breathy with the air she's kept locked in her lungs, and though he stays stoic, face impassive as he watches her, she can see his hand flex involuntarily, a shock passing through it.

Responsive to her weak invite, Armin inches towards her. Breath baited, almost painfully so. Her pen is settled on the table with a soft click, and his hand slides down the table soundlessly. Effortlessly. He utters her name, the word sailing through her quietly, and as she watches and watches him come closer with an excruciating, almost unsure slowness, she says: "I would."

She wondered before, of course, how he would do it. Touch her. If he'd be slow or rushed, experienced or sloppy. If he'd look her in the eye or screw his eyes shut. If he'd talk to her.

She wondered if he knew of it, and now she thinks perhaps he did. Perhaps he does.

And then, all at once, she finds her thoughts melting as she feels his touch; a slow, soft drag of his knuckle down her arm. Getting her attention back to him, she realises. Grounding her. Into it – into this.

"Are you sure?" Armin asks her, words soft and careful to her ears, his eyes boring into hers with an expression that is almost new to her. Beyond attention, she thinks; focus.

She finds, then, that her lungs hurt. She finds that his knuckle, so questing and brave before, now sits stock-still on her arm, waiting for her response.

"I am," she says firmly, voice low from lack of breath, and his knuckle finishes the journey, finger curling around her forearm. A shudder follows in its wake, and Armin pulls his chair closer to her.

Their arms touch, now.

She wonders if he has always been this warm.

"Try not to make too much sound," he whispers, and it almost startles her when she hears the words right in her ear, his breath fanning at her skin.

"I won't," she promises, and finds herself biting down a whimper when she feels his hand settle on her thigh, his grasp warm and firm.

She thinks, distantly, that she should look around. See if there is truly no one there. But his hand, his bastardly fingers circle around the button of her pants, and his gaze burns into her as he undoes it, delicately, slowly; she finds, in turn, her eyes peeled hungrily to his attention.

Her breath stutters. Then, all is quiet save for a soft, uninvasive sound of her zipper.

His thumb brushes against the edge of her panties. She dare not look down, so she stares up at him, watching as his eyes run back and forth, from her crotch to her eyes, and she watches, with a peculiar awe filling her, as he bites the inside of his cheek, holding back – what? A sigh? A groan?

He tugs at the material of her panties, bringing back her attention to him once more.

"Is this okay?" He asks quietly, a gentleness in his tone that almost makes her thighs grow farther for him.

"Yes," she says firmly, softly, and then: "Please," she adds, her hand reaching for him, settling on the edge of his chair, and she thinks he would have gone slower, he would have teased her, perhaps, but there is a moment between her plea and his acquiescence where his hand crawls beneath the cloth, slithering determinedly inside, lower. She gasps, and he pauses, something unreadable passing through him as he feels it; how wet she is, his fingers slipping through her folds with an ease that is almost embarrassing.

Armin opens his mouth, but nothing leaves it, and though she waits for it, a comment, a question, anything, he instead clasps his jaw shut tight, and instead his finger pushes, carefully, gently, against her clit. She bites her lip, so hard she thinks she might break skin, and she soon feels that her hold of his chair has now turned into his shirt, but he does not say anything, instead watching her hungrily, instead gliding, once again, around her center. He does it again, then, and then again, less uncertain with each stroke.

She keens into his hand, finding it harder and harder to control her bucking hips, and it is then that she finds his lips at her ear again, the sound of his murmur almost, almost pushing her to the edge by itself. "Can I go inside?" He asks her, not coyly, not bashfully, but wanton, breathless, and when she nods at him she expects to find him coming undone, but even now he seems hard-set in his determination only; determined, she thinks, not to enjoy this, but to only get her off.

She thinks he will slide inside her immediately; she hopes for it, at least, but he takes his time with her. His other hand slides across the back of her chair, curling, slowly, around her shoulder, and his fingers press themselves against her clit in an unyielding, delicate pace. He leans closer to her, almost towering her – no, shielding her – and then, only then, this close to her, her safely tucked into his frame, his fingers quest lower, entering inside her and pressing into her soft spots, and she wonders if he can feel her thighs spreading for him, accommodating him.

And this, this he does with a precision she is so accustomed from him in everything else, and she breathes his name, the sound rattled and whiny to her ears, and at this she sees his eyes flutter closed, for just a moment, just enough for her to notice him exhaling, quick and harsh; enough for her to notice his pace quickening. She calls his name again, quieter, needier, letting her hand twist into his shirt, at his chest, and when his lips part, words unspoken left behind, she does it again, and again, until it finally, mercifully cracks past the last bits of self-control he's been lording over.

"That's it," he breathes against her skin, the heat of it spreading over her, something intangibly suffocating swirling in his eyes. "Just like that. You're doing so good, aren't you?" His gaze breaks from hers with an uncertainty, running back and forth between her eyes and his hand between her legs, inside her, and he watches her then: her hips twitching, bucking at the things he is doing to her. He closes his eyes, just for a mere moment, and then he whispers her name, and then her skin grows both hot and cold, all at once, at the terrible desperation in his tone. "Look at you," he says, choked and strained, his words dripping into her heat like wax. "Fuck."

"Armin," she whines out, the name leaving her throat in a desperate surge, and then he looks back at her once more, something in his gaze cracking further, beyond his own control. "More," she pleads, feeling another finger inside her before she can finish the word, pushing into her harder, quicker, and this she regrets with a swiftness, the pleasure pushing her beyond what she can take quietly.

"Shhhh," he coos gently, pulling closer to her, and closer, and now he towers over her, their noses touching. "Try to be quieter, sweetheart," he begs, diverting a fraction of her attention, and she finds herself wishing he would call her that again. She thinks he, perhaps, would ease his pace in fear of her growing whines, but he does no such thing. Instead, he looks at her, sharing her air as both her hands shake in his shirt, and there is something desperate, something mournful in his gaze as he fucks her with his finger. It is only later that she realises: he is looking at her lips.

Slowly, as she writhes beneath him, his composure, his indifference is cracking, and not much stands between his control and his loss of it as he speaks to her, as he whispers how pretty she sounds, as he asks her, almost pleadingly, if she feels good, if she feels good from him.

There is not much she can do here, not much but careen and whine and tell him exactly how good he makes her feel; but watch as his gaze loses focus at her words, as his wrist twitches, as he leans his forehead at her temple, breathing hard and ragged into her ear. She feels him kiss her jaw, the gesture short, fleeting, bashful; almost as if he were ashamed for it, as if he had stolen it, selfishly. He evades her gaze for a moment, pulling back until she tugs at his shirt, pulling him back in. "Kiss me," she pleads with him, and she watches as a shiver rocks itself through him at her words.

He kisses her then, and it is hard, almost sloppy; not from inexperience, but from fervor, robbing breath from her lungs and teeth clashing together, their minds too feverish to coordinate a kiss more delicate than this. Then his hand is at her jaw, and her lips are parted to him, and now he kisses her slowly, carefully, a far cry from the first contact between their lips.

And he whispers to her, here, like this: soft words, private words, some of them passing by her in a fleeting run as the pleasure builds in her core, and it isn't until he confesses just how ‘fucking long’ he's wanted her, that her body considers submitting to the avalanche which his fingers have wrought upon her. At this, she comes with a reckoning, and his lips are hard against hers in moments, muffling and swallowing the desperate cries that leave her. Her muscles tense, pushing hard into the hand in her cunt, and her grasp on him is so strong, she fears she will bruise him.

He eases her down, his pace slowing gradually, steadily, not letting a drop of her orgasm go beyond his reach, and then he holds her against him, lips at her temple as she catches her breath.

She thinks he will be aloof again, reticent in his retreat from between her legs, but she holds back a gasp when she feels him burrow into her hair, the caress both gentle and desperate in its nature. She can feel him exhale, a harsh sigh that feathers at her throat, and then she can feel him inhale: long, drawn-out, as if he were swallowing a small essence of her for himself.

"Impassive, Arlert," she breathes out thinly, voice trembling as she sits in his grasp, feeling, still, his hands burn on her.

"I know." He replies weakly, his voice laced with an odd, strained sort pitifulness, and then he nuzzles into her skin again, whispering: "Was that good?"

She doesn't answer, not immediately. Chest rattling from her heartbeat, throat weak, she feels watery, diluted in his hands, and it isn't until he rises, until his eyes pierce hers that she gasps any sort of reply to him.

He waits for her still, his expression inscrutable to her, save for the desperation, the deep, harrowing yearning she only now sees on him, and it is then that she feels his hand slide out, with a horrifying slowness, from in-between her legs. She whines, soft and weak, and it is almost embarrassing, the way her hips follow in the wake of his hand, seeking him again.

"Can't you tell?" She offers him weakly, timidly, almost, feeling the stark blush that spreads through her skin, and this seems to satisfy him. A wave of emotions wreaks itself through him, and though she tries to read it, discern it for all that it is, he looks away swiftly, busying himself with fixing her pants, then her shirt, then her hair. She lets him, leaning helplessly against the back of the chair, and it only now dawns on her that she is speechless, shocked beyond belief about what just transpired.

She thinks, then, she should say something; apologise, perhaps, or thank him, or anything, but he is quicker than her, far quicker, and before she can even form a word in her head, she feels her chair move, screeching quietly against the floor. He's moved her, straightened her, and now she sits right at the desk, in front of her laptop.

The same document sits in front of her, bright and flush; as if nothing happened at all.

"Focus now," Armin tells her, his lean finger pressing delicately into the edge of her screen, angling it towards her. "We'll revise in half an hour."

She blinks at the screen, and Armin quietly goes back to his studying.

Well, fuck.

dividers by cafekitsune

#armin arlert #armin fanfiction #armin x reader #armin x you #armin aot #aot headcanons #armin fluff #attack on titan x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #snk x reader #armin smut #aot fluff #armin x y/n #aot fanfiction #armin headcanons #aot smut #my writing

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