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thexsilentxwordsmith · 7 months

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Simon "Ghost" Riley x FWB!Reader

Fandom: Call of Duty

Character(s): Simon "Ghost" Riley, Reader

Summary: Simon is getting more and more obsessed with his little friend who constantly finds herself in his bed. But when you are off on a quick mission for a few weeks, Simon begins to grow restless and this no strings attached messing around finds itself being turned on its head. What happens when you get a text from him the day you get back, in the middle of the day?

Word Count: 4.8 k

Warnings:

Part 1:

Late Night Texts

Whatever spell you had cast, whatever potion you had had the Lieutenant drink down he didn’t know, but there had to be some preternatural reason that he could not get enough of you no matter how much he had. You were in his very veins, in the marrow of his bones, in the crevasses of his brain; he was completely head over heels for you and it was only growing by the day.

Your visits to his room under the shroud of darkness were becoming almost nightly at this point, his texts popping up so frequent that no matter when your phone vibrated after dark, you knew it would be him asking if you were on your way over back to his quarters. There was no complaints, however, as you could not get enough of his very particular brand of ecstasy.

You both were in so deep that it was becoming more than just an occasional hook up now and that was only demonstrated more when one night after another round of steamy hot body parts interlocking in that specific way that led to both of you experiencing that little death, he made a request of you that you had not expected.

“What?” you asked as Ghost stared back as you, brow furrowed and mouth contorted as if he were deep in thought while he lay beside you in the bed.

That stoic man knew that what he was going to ask you was going to sound obsessive, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t about to deny himself just to save face; as if his nightly texts weren’t already making him look like a lust-drunk teen. Ever since he hit it that first time, he had not been the same and it only compounded each time he got it until whatever composure he had flew away.

“I… need ya to keep your phone on ya at all times,” he said.

You weren’t one to always keep your phone with you outside of your barracks, not unless you were off duty or it was after hours. It was a nuisance to constantly be drawn to look at it when you were busy and you hated being controlled by it, but the moment he told you to keep it on you there was nothing else for you to do; you had to comply.

“Keep it on vibrate,” he continued, “in case I need to reach ya.”

You smirked. “Strictly military business, correct?”

A deep roll of his eyes met your sarcasm. “Ya fuckin’ know what it’s for,” he said with an incredulous shake of his head.

“Fine…I can do that,” you played with a wink.

A large hand roughly palmed your cheek, eyes drifting over the features of your face as the need to kiss you again grew unbearable. “You did say ya wanted to be my problem, yeah? Well, now ya have to be the solution too.”

“Who said I didn’t want to?”

“Good girl,” he praised before pulling you forward into him once again. “Good girl.”

It was only a couple of days since you had strictly been carrying around that small rectangular object in your pocket at all times when the Lieutenant finally utilized it, making you meet him in the ammunition depot for a quickie during lunch. There was no time to waste as he pulled you inside and immediately got to work, having you coming faster than you thought you’d be able to, mostly from the rush of the forbidden nature of this lewd bit of sneaking around. How you were both able to get in and out in such an easy manner was astounding, but Ghost did have rank on the base so you were sure he had pulled a few strings to make such a filthy thing possible.

It seemed like you both were living on cloud fucking nine, but as life always tends to do nothing can ever be that simple.

As if to shake up your lives, a wrench got thrown into everything. A mission, close to just over a month, was assigned to your squad and there was nothing you could do but leave behind your prefect situation to go out into the field.

“Keep your phone with ya,” he reminded you and you did.

Week one of your departure wasn’t so bad; Ghost was able to distract himself enough that he was able to at least get through the day without thinking about you constantly. He took on more work, volunteered his time, anything to keep him busy until he was too tired to do anything other than head back to his quarters and pass out.

Then week two hit and he started to feel your absence. It began small, his mind would wander to his phone, trying to think up some sort of message he could send you that wouldn’t make him sound too desperate. He’d ask about how things were going, if the weather there was just as shit as back at base, just random things to hear from you. And he realized that his heart would skip a beat each time his phone vibrated, thinking it was you.

By the last week before your return, he could hardly keep still. Fuck he needed you more than he needed food or sleep, he pined for your company again as a starving man pines for food. His hand would never do to satisfy him like you did and it frustrated him that he could not focus because his cock was constantly straining against the barrier of his pants and his body craved to feel your own against it. Every day he checked to see if your squad had returned and each day there was nothing made his heart sink into his feet.

On the other end you were faring just as badly. You did your job just as you were supposed to, keeping your focus mostly on the task at hand, but when you had those moments of freedom it was spent on thinking about the countless nights you had spent in his company already and how you genuinely missed being in his presence as was what you had grown accustomed to.

Things were only made worse when he would text you, drawing attention to the fact that you were separated for the immediate future. Each day droned on and on in endless fashion until you were able to check your phone and see the scant few texts from him that had you holding on until you could be filled with him once again.

And yet it was more than that…though you didn’t know if you could admit it yet. Secret worries crept in that made your mind misfire with fears that he could possibly have moved on in your absence, those anxieties lacing themselves within your bodies need for him, and by the time you and your squad finally were able to return to base you were a wreck. The moment you stepped foot back on home turf you were acutely aware of everything and you wondered with palpating heart just where your lover was.

The team had returned around midday and that meant everyone was given a couple hours for lunch before debriefing would begin. A few of your mates had wrangled you into eating with them and though you hesitated at first, ultimately you gave in. Checking your phone and not seeing anything popping up on the screen sealed the deal; at least they would offer a distraction until you could find a second to see Ghost again.

About half an hour in, your phone buzzed in your pocket as you took another bite of your lunch. Ignoring it as to not be suspicious, you focused back on the conversation happening in front of you until it went off again and again in rapid succession, clearly trying to get your attention and fast.

Discreetly as you could under the table, you pulled the small rectangle out of your pocket and checked the lock screen as your heartbeat was in your ears. Three short texts glared back at you, simple and easy to read in a hurry.

My office.

Now.

Don’t wait.

You hadn’t even read the name of the sender, but you already knew who it was beckoning you in the middle of the day; there was only one who would be desperate enough to risk getting caught like this, but you weren’t about to deny him. It had been long enough you two had been apart that you had to see him again that instant.

Omw

You quickly sent back and in an instant there was a reply.

Got five minutes to get here.

Making up some bullshit excuse to break away from your group, you rushed out of the mess hall and towards the officer’s building that housed their private offices. Your steps were quick, but metered in such a way as not to draw any unwanted attention; no sense in causing yourself to waste time by getting caught up with someone asking where it was you were off to in such a hurry, especially when debriefing was happening so soon.

There was tightness in your chest as time seemed to slow down to an agonizing crawl. Logically you knew that you were almost there, but even with the building looming on the near horizon, it still seemed to take forever to reach it and all you desperately wanted to do was get to him as quick as you could.

The cool air of the officer’s building hit you and you could feel a shiver vibrate through your body; when had you gotten so warm? No time to analyze that as you had more important things to focus on.

You had been inside the building a few times, but never to Ghost’s office in particular and so it took you a minute to locate the room that had his nameplate on the door. Stepping up to the last barrier you both had between you, your heart leap violently in your chest as you raise a balled fist to the wood.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

The sound of knuckles tapping on wood sounded through the small office and Ghost looked up just as the door was cracked open and his breath hitched when his eyes met your face that had just appeared through to the other side.

“You needed to see me sir?” you asked, blood pressure rising and heartbeat thudding wildly inside your chest; you had to keep up appearances to anyone who might be passing by, but you wanted nothing more than to just sprint straight to him and shred his fatigues from his perfectly sculpted body.

Ghost was on his feet in an instant, his pulse now racing liquid hot through his veins at the very sight of you suddenly before him again; he was already on edge the moment he had learned you were back as he waited for a free second in his busy day to call you to him. Now seeing you here in front of him again after such a profound gap of time spent apart sent him into a tailspin.

“Come in and shut the door, private, we need to have a chat,” he ordered roughly, playing his part effortlessly, and you did so without having to be told any more than that.

As soon as he heard the door latch he was on his feet, crossing the length of the room with quick steps that matched his accelerated breathing as he ripped his balaclava up and over his head to discard it somewhere on the floor. “Lock it,” he said abruptly and you immediately followed orders.

You turned back around and Ghost was on you before you could move further, closing his eyes and leaning in with his mouth to immediately connect your lips ferociously together before any of your other parts could touch yet. You had to be quick, there was no guarantee of how much free time you would have before someone could come around, but still he had to take a moment to enjoy that initial reunion of your mouths. Face pressed snugly against the contours of your own, wet, sloppy mouths crushed together in waves of aggressively frantic kisses as if he had completely forgotten the taste of your lips and it had been torturing him to insanity.

His hand moved out from his side and searched for yours until he found it, interlocking those long digits in the empty spaces between your own. Even in the fiery desperation with which he devoured your lips embraces, his touch was still incredibly tender as his hand stayed locked in yours.

“Goddammit, I missed you, luv,” he groaned through pauses in your mouths connection. “Missed you so fuckin’ much I couldn’t stand it. The second I got wind you were back, I couldn’t wait…had to see ya now.”

Your lungs begged for air, but you couldn’t tell him to stop as his free hand locked on to the back of your neck to force your face even harder against his mouth; he was trying to drown in you and you didn’t want him to stop, even with his roughness causing your lips to swell hot and sensitive from the pressure.

“God, sweetheart, how I’ve missed these fuckin’ lips,” he grunted in hushed whispers into your open mouth as his forehead rocked on yours. His cock was straining harshly against the zipper of his pants, tenting the fabric as he ground it into the muscle of your thigh. “Can’t stand bein’ away from ya at all anymore. I was in agony waitin’ for ya to return.”

Your chest tightened while your stomach plunged into your shoes; his need was overwhelming and intense as if it could swallow you whole and fuck were you ready to let it. Rough fingers squeezed down on your hand, using it as a way to ground himself to stop from being ripped apart with the strength of his desire. Your bodies were so close you swore he was trying to fuse you both together.

“Wish I had more time, I wanna suck on those fuckin’ juicy tits of yours so fuckin’ bad,” he groaned as the feeling of your breasts pressed against his chest caught his attention. “Been missin’ those too. Shit, I’ll be honest, there ain’t a part of ya I haven’t been cravin’ like crazy, baby.”

Acting off of pure impulse and adrenaline alone, you reached towards him with your free hand and latched on to his belt, pulling at the hindrance as if you could will it off without having to use any of the fine motor skills that you currently did not have access to as you slipped into that primal state of knowing nothing else other than to satiate the throbbing between your thighs.

Your fingers grazed the tip of his cock through the fabric of his pants and he hissed, his torso contracting from the intensity of that first contact; he had become engorged so quickly that it was painfully sensitive to the touch.

Ghost released your hand to reach over to your own belt, still enough faculty available to him to go about undressing you, though that was quickly waning as your own neediness fueled even more of his desperation for you. “I need ta be inside of ya, luv,” he breathed, resting up against the side of your cheek. “Need it so fuckin’ bad I can almost taste it.”

A light jingling hit your ears as he unlocked your belt from itself and let it fall loosely to hang in the belt loops as he moved on to the button and zipper, undoing them just as easily before everything was shoved down to the floor in one swift motion. His hand moved on top of yours still clinging to the band around his waist, guiding the unsteady fingers on your hand to make you undo the buckle yourself.

The backside of your hand pressed against the soft skin of his pelvis as you slipped inside the waistband of his pants to undo them and shit was he boiling. “Take it out,” he groaned as you got the damned button to release.

A jolt like an electrical current ran through him, shivering up the length of his spine as you plunged those silky soft palms within the confines of his pants and caught his rock hard member in your grasp. Unconsciously his hips bucked into your hand as you situated him so that he was now outside the fabric.

With your hand wrapped around the girth of his cock, you could not stop the urge to stroke the length of it. It pulsed and jolted against the skin of your palm as you worked it up and down and a tiny, almost imperceptible whimper escaped his lips as Ghost unraveled at your touch. All that pent up frustration that had plagued him for the past month and some change burst at the seams and he couldn’t hold back any longer.

“Can’t wait; I have to make you cum, right fuckin’ now,” he said, the agony pervasive in his gravely, low tone.

Grabbing you by the hand Ghost drug you the short distance across the room to his desk, spinning you so that your back was to it. With his hand under your arms he picked you up and set you on the surface, not caring about the papers currently strewn about across the top that now lay under the padding of your bare ass.

Scooting so that you were at the very edge of the tabletop, you immediately spread your legs open wide, only wanting to feel him and not wanting to waste even a second more of time where you both were not connected. He took the invitation to move in, placing his hand on your sex to check how ready you were for him; there was moistness against his palm, but he wanted to be sure you were well lubricated.

There was no more time to wait so he would have to improvise just to be certain you were wet enough; the last thing he would ever want to do was hurt you. Gathering all the saliva he could in his mouth, he spit into his hand and quickly coated the area thoroughly. Your legs twitched from his fingers rubbing up against your sensitive clit as he went. “I fuckin’ swear we’ll do this proper later, just gotta be quick this time,” he reassured. “Tonight I’ll savor ya proper, sweetheart.”

Aligning his cock with your entrance those hardened fingers dug into your bare hips to steady himself as he thrust careful inside you. He watched closely as he slipped it in, his body shuddering as it reacted to him being wrapped fully in you down to the hilt. You whined as he stretched you to capacity, your pussy needing a minute to readjust to his size; it had been a hot minute after all since he had filled you this full.

“Goddammit, luv,” he groaned with a hiss, eyes clamping shut as he struggled to hang on to sanity, “don’t you ever leave me again. I don’t ever wanna fuckin’ miss this.”

Catching his cheek with your hand, Ghost opened his eyes to your touch and you pulled his face closer to yours. “Never if I can help it,” you breathed as you crashed your lips on his again; you needed something to make sure you stayed quiet as he began to forcefully thrust in and out of you, all that longing he had done in your absence culminating in his movements now.

It had only been a few short minutes of him pumping all he had into you, but he was already completely drunk off the feeling of your tight, wet core sucking him with voracity each time he rocked into it. His burning mouth stayed locked onto yours for a little longer, just to be sure you had a handle on the sound before he released it.

“Can’t stop… how much… I need ya…” he panted quietly between desperate thrusts. “Down so bad for ya… sweetheart.”

“Fuck, I was so miserable without you,” you admitted sheepishly. “My fingers are sore.”

The longing in your voice was palpable and Ghost could not get enough. “Missed me like fuckin’ crazy, didn’t you sweetheart?” he asked as his speed increased with new vigor at your words. “Missed what I do to this sweet little body of yours?”

You nodded, but that wasn’t good enough; he was hungry for more of your need of him to be vocalized. “Words, use them,” he demanded.

“Missed you so fucking much,” you whimpered as a twinge of pleasure shot up from your core through your body. “I am an absolute fucking mess without you.”

His lips shot to yours as you were starting to get loud again and though he hated to keep you quiet, it was a necessity in here. Half of him was of the mind to just let you be your usual vocal self, letting the whole fucking office building hear you taking him so well, and as much as his body burned for such a thing he knew in the long run it would be detrimental to your situation. The last thing he wanted was to ruin this by exposing the secret.

“Wish everyone in this fuckin’ office would just leave so I could enjoy your sweet little noises, luv,” he purred into your face as he released your mouth again. “Can’t get enough of your pretty music; my room’s been so quiet without it.”

Panting into his face with mouth open, chest heaving up and down with laborious breaths, Ghost put more into his thrusts so that even the desk itself began to rock with you from the force. The strength of his pumps made you feral, relinquishing any hold you had on civility as you would do anything to get more of the way his body fit into your cunt; it felt nice to be filled out by him again… you had grown far too accustomed with being constantly overflowing with his cock on the daily.

So wet, the sound of slapping skin against skin filled the silent space within the room, Ghost’s second favorite sound that you produced. It was like a round of applause for all his efforts, that he was putting in the right amount of work, and he pulled back to watch himself pump in and out of you. He hoped that someone would take him out permanently if he ever got tired of that sight, though he wasn’t worried about it as nothing would ever look better to him.

Taking the first two fingers of one of his hands he brought it to your clit, drawing circles with the pad of the digits over that overwhelmingly sensitive bundle of nerves. Your hips bucked wildly at the extra bit of stimulation, slamming against his hand as your eyes rolled back with all that ecstasy flowing through your veins.

“Don’t stop, baby,” you begged, trying desperately to keep your volume at a reasonable level. “Gonna cum soon.”

Christ, those three words he had longed to hear for weeks now only fueled those strong thrusts and quick flicks of your clit. “That’s it, darlin’, fuckin’ come for me,” Ghost growled so desperately it made your brain numb. “I need to know your body still belongs to me.”

“Only you,” you returned without hesitation. “You’ve ruined me for anyone else baby. I can’t even get wet to anything but you.”

That beastly, towering hulk of a man shuddered at your proclamation, nearly spilling his seed inside you at such a beautiful phrase coming from your lips, but he would not allow anything to stop him from bringing about your release and so he focused everything he had left solely on you.

Keeping the pace of both his fingers and his cock at the same, precise speed Ghost watched as after a few more minutes your head finally flicked back and your thighs clamped down around his hips, a cry exploding out of you before you quickly locked your lips together to stifle the tail end of your ecstasy-filled exclamation.

Your cry is what did him in and he jerked violently as your pussy fluttered around him and he had to harshly pull out of you so that he could milk himself dry over top of your bare stomach. The sticky, hot fluid coated your skin with an amount more than you were expecting; clearly it had been a while.

Ghost looked back up at you, a contented, amused smile plastered to his lips. “Goddamn, luv,” was all he could say as he admired the beautiful flush in your cheeks and glazed look in your eyes, all a product from him.

It took him a second to find something to help clean you both up; a spare t shirt he had balled up in the bottom drawer of his desk would have to do. He took care of himself first before he moved to you, handing you the shirt while he went to gather your clothes. Waiting till you were finished cleaning off, he helped you to redress as your legs shook unsteadily.

The care he was taking with you now, it wrought to the surface just how silly you had been while you were away, thinking that he could have ever dropped you for someone else. You thought you had been slick, concealing your emotions from his discerning eye until you heard him speak.

“What’s that?” he questioned, causing you to look back up into his face.

“What’s what?” you posed curiously.

“That… look. On your face.”

You didn’t really want to say, you knew it was only an intrusive thought, but something about the way he stood gazing at you as if actively waiting for you to answer made you speak up. “It’s silly, but…” you paused; why couldn’t you just be honest with him? That man was just inside of you and yet this felt so much more intimate than that.

“Tell me,” he said, genuinely interested in the answer.

You swallowed hard. “Well, I was… worried you might have forgotten about me…moved on to someone else or something while I was gone. Wouldn’t have blamed you. I mean, needs are needs right?”

Ghost had already moved back in as you nervously laughed, both of those large hands cupping your face between them. Amber eyes stared back at you for a few seconds as if trying to read the meaning behind your words before he tilted his head to one side and leaned in to kiss you in such a way as he never done before: it was softer, but with just as much passion that you felt you might choke on it.

“I will neva forget about ya, luv,” he stated firmly as he broke the kiss, unable to hold back the string of truth that began spilling forth. “There’s no one ‘round here that could replace ya, absolutely fuckin’ no one. I don’t want some flaky tart that’s gonna get sick of my shit after a while or some dumb bimbo that talks a big game, but cannot keep up with me. I want you. Only you, understand?”

You nodded. “I only want you too, Simon.”

In all this time, you had never really used his name; perhaps it was too familiar for the type of relationship you both had together or maybe it was simple enough to stick to more formal monikers so that when not in a more intimate setting things wouldn’t get confusing. Whatever the reason was it didn’t matter anymore. Fuck did his name sound good being said in your voice; there was no going back from the shift that was happening here.

And maybe eventually you’d both be able to say it… out loud. For now, though, this was enough.

“So…” he said in hushed tones as he cleared his throat, knowing that you needed to head back soon and hating every bit of it, “you’re comin’ by later, yeah?”

You let out a small sigh and gave him a sweet, muted smile. “I believe you owe me more than just a quickie, so I guess so.”

Simon shook his head. “Fuckin’ hell,” he chuckled. “I guess off you fuckin’ go then before someone gets suspicious.”

And with another quick kiss you left him all alone in his quiet office to count down the literal seconds until he could be with you again. Hopefully, the rest of that day would go by fast, but the way his heart was beating, he didn’t hold out for a painless outcome.

Part 3:

2K notes · View notes

limarieb · 2 months

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i come around (when you least expect me)

Pairing(s): emo!Wanda Maximoff x fem!reader

Summary: After a one-night stand during a party, you find yourself in an odd gray area with your best friend's sister. It just so happens that your best friend's sister is also the person that has been making your life a living hell for the last few years... all without your best friend knowing.

Warnings: enemies to lovers, cursing, mentions of drinking/parties, high school au, Wanda lowkey kinda mean but i SWEAR its lowkey, non-graphic scenes of kissing/making out (no smut... yet...?)

Word Count: 3.5k

Author's Note: sorry for my lack of posting, but i promised it would come soon(ish)! here's that 100 follower special i promised — oh, and thank youuuu all for the follows and support... i love you all <3 (title from 'heartbeat' by childish gambino) ... also, requests/asks are still open!

Main Masterlist | ao3 | Wattpad

...

Pain. Throbbing, aching pain. The discomfort from your current hangover surrounded every inch of your mind, physically and metaphorically. Well, almost every inch... because memories from last night were finally reaching the surface now that you have awoken, conscious and, unfortunately, sober.

The sweet lips on yours.

The feeling of skin, hot and sweaty, against your own.

The perfect dichotomy of soft hands on your body as they gripped at your skin roughly, almost primal in nature.

And they all belonged to your best friend's twin sister.

You started to get ready for the day — whoever talked you into attending a party the day before the school year began should be arrested and fined for such a disservice.

Thankfully, you planned enough ahead to bring clothes to the twins' house for today. The outfit you had chosen was relatively casual: the worn-down, navy blue sweater that had been your father's during his college years and the comfiest pair of jeans you could find.

Venturing downstairs to the kitchen, you finally felt the extent of how poorly your stomach felt due to the heavy drinking from the previous night. You opted for something easy, pulling the first box of cereal that your fingertips touched out of the cabinet. You never liked cereal too much, but anything went during difficult times like these.

As you poured yourself a bowl of the bland cereal, footsteps sounded throughout the house. They were coming closer and closer to your location. You assumed it had been Pietro.

You were... close — it was her.

When you looked up from the bowl to see who the person was, you were displeased to find the girl standing there, simply observing you with a smirk on her face. It reminded you of the villainous expressions from the television: conniving and mischievous.

"Stop staring at me like that," you sneered, trying to keep your volume low enough that Pietro would not hear you but loud enough that she would sense the harsh seriousness of your tone.

Wanda maintained her gaze, simply tilting her head as if to challenge you, "Like what?"

"Like you know what I taste like."

The faux innocence in her expression slightly faltered. Her eyebrows rose, the shock from your words evident on her face. As Wanda opened her mouth to form another witty remark, the sound of a door opening made the two of you go effectively silent. Wanda looked toward the direction of the sound, awaiting his entrance in a way that demonstrated her indifference toward last night's events. You, on the other hand, completely averted your gaze from both of the twins due to the shame that coursed through your veins.

The rational part of your brain begged for you to tell Pietro about what happened last night; it would resolve the guilt that clawed at you with each passing minute, lifting the weight off of your shoulders entirely. Yet, each time that you began to plan the exact words of your apology, any ideas you had conjured seemed to fall short. It was not as if you could search the internet for a script concerning "how to tell your best friend that you mistakenly (but not so mistakenly that you stopped it) hooked up with his emo, bitchy twin sister at a party."

Your eyes swiftly returned to Wanda, watching her inch closer to where you stood by the counter. She reached her arm behind you, leaning in close enough that your breath mingled with hers. If asked, you would completely and utterly deny that part of your mind was anticipating the vibrant feeling of her lips on yours again; however, the fleeting glance at her lips revealed otherwise.

Wanda noticed. Of course, you would fall into her trap, and she noticed. She smirked in response to your reaction before leaning away and taking a few steps back. A banana was in the hand that had been behind you. Scoffing at yourself, you cannot believe that you let her tease you again.

"See you at school, Y/N," she declared with narrowed eyes, looking you up and down once more before waltzing out of the front door.

You took a deep breath, attempting to recuperate your mind for the day ahead of you. As soon as Wanda had left, Pietro walked into the kitchen, ignorant of what had just occurred.

Standing still as if in a daze, you could only sense Pietro race around the kitchen, grabbing various items he needed for the day ahead. After a few minutes, he slowed to a stop after closing the door to the fridge. He must have sensed your unusual stillness, then he asked, “You okay? Looks like you’ve seen a ghost.”

You shakily nodded. “All good,” you forced yourself to stutter out. Not even you believed your words, but it seems as if Pietro was too busy in his own world to truly notice the lack of honesty in your reply. “I’m all good. Now come on, we’re gonna be late.”

The two of you scurried out the door in the hopes that you had not missed the bus. It was a bad habit that you both had been trying to break for years now but remained relatively unsuccessful.

As the two of you approached the classic, yellow school bus that sat on the corner of the street, Pietro raced ahead in order to save you the extra minute of running. He gracefully entered the bus, climbing its stairs with ease; meanwhile, you were audibly out of breath and tried to ignore the glances the bus driver gave to the two of you.

Pietro, like most mornings, found himself sitting with some of his friends from the cross country team, leaving you to fend for yourself. You quickly scanned the bus for an empty row so you could sit by yourself, but you quickly realized that was a luxury you could not afford after such a late arrival. While you could not find an empty row, you were about to find a single empty seat towards the back of the bus.

You shuffled your feet to the empty seat but stopped as soon as you noticed its other inhabitant: Wanda.

Bile suddenly formed in your throat at the thought of having to spend more time with her — more specifically, without her brother, your friend, and coincidentally the only person to keep her dangerous, spontaneous nature in check, present. You approached her, simply attempting to take the bus ride silently and one minute at a time. You swore to yourself internally that you would not respond to her, irrespective of whatever she may say or do.

The bus slowly pulled away from the stop and started its route toward the high school. For the first few minutes, everything seemed to be going unusually fine. Wanda sat silently beside you, wired earphones trailing from her phone to her ears. As her gaze remained fixed toward the window, you wonder if she had even noticed that a person had now occupied the seat next to her, let alone that person being you.

You naively took her initial lack of response as a victory. With a sigh of relief, you allowed your body to relax in the seat and closed your eyes for the remainder of the ride.

Then, you felt something.

The brush of something on your thigh.

You opened your eyes to scope the scene, making sure you had not imagined the sensation; however, it seemed to be just that: nothing. The only thing positioned in your lap was your backpack filled with your books for the upcoming year. You closed your eyes and began to drift away once again. Maybe you were going crazy, you pondered. (Maybe you could blame your irrational behavior last night on such insanity. Would the insanity defense work for things like that, too?)

Then, you felt it again.

Without much hesitation, your eyes shot open once more. Only this time, you were met with the sight of a hand, decorated with several rings and chipped, black nail polish, situated comfortably, almost possessively, on your upper thigh. You peered toward Wanda's face, which was still facing the opposite direction, attempting to gauge her reaction. Yet, you saw nothing; her expression was rather unchanged, leaving you more confused than anything.

Before you could think about what to do about the situation, the bus drove over a mountainous bump on the road. You internally cursed the local government officials for the obstacle, for whether it occur by accident or intention, Wanda's hand flew directly into the apex between your thighs. Eyes widened in shock, your lips drift open as you gasp from the sensation.

It finally gave you the courage, however, to shove her hand away, but not without seeing the signature smirk she acquired in the process. Anger began to boil inside you. You repeated to yourself that it was because the brunette's touches were unexpected — not that she had been victorious. In the end, you just silently thanked yourself that you had chosen jeans, or else that could have ended much differently knowing the Sokovian.

Days turned into weeks, each bringing the routine of snide comments and less-than-playful banter between you and Wanda. You still had not found a way to enlighten Pietro about your issues with his sister (both the endless torment and... that night), given that (1) she was his twin sister and (2) she always seemed to be around. The cynical part of your brain believed that her unusual proximity was purposeful — she probably just wanted to see the fallout.

While the two of you had not gone further than your typical banter again over the past few weeks, though, you still felt incredibly agitated. (You chalked it up to anger because it definitely could not be the possibility of pent-up sexual frustration between the two of you.)

However, one day differed from the rest.

You noticed early in the day that Wanda was being extraordinarily quiet. Part of you was thankful, praying that her silence would continue until the end of the school day.

It was a Thursday in late October. Like most days, you followed Pietro to his home after school, venting to him about how you were excited it was Friday tomorrow because you were simply over all of the midterms being assigned and just wanted time to relax.

(You continued to ignore the underlying guilt that sat in the pit of your stomach from remaining silent about everything that happened with his sister weeks before; you attempted to ignore it even more by rationalizing your silence, stating it was "only one time" and a "mistake that would never even happen again.")

As you entered the house, Pietro immediately drops his bag on the floor and runs up to his room. You rolled your eyes at this typical, teenage-boy messiness, and opted to place your bag on the hooks that Agatha designated for such items.

Feet padding across the wooden floors, you wandered into your happy place of the home: the kitchen. You opened the fridge, looking for a small snack that could satiate your hunger until dinner. Finding nothing of interest, you closed the door. Your body jumps, though, at the figure that had been hiding behind it: Wanda.

The patience you once had had officially worn invisibly thin.

“What the fuck, Wanda? What do you want from me?” you asked exasperatedly, the energy you once had for such shenanigans having become completely depleted after a difficult week of school. "Listen, I don't know what I ever did to you for you to treat me like this, but I'm over it."

“Are you…” She started but quickly cut herself off. Her head tilted, trying to figure out if you really did not know the answer. You noticed the way her mouth opened and shut out of pure bewilderment; while you normally would make a comment about it in an attempt to tease her in return, you figured now was not the time. When Wanda found no evidence of lies in your expression, she continued to speak, “You really don’t remember, do you?”

You threw your head back, a chuckle escaping from the back of your throat, primarily due to the exhaustion caused by this long-awaited conversation. “No, Wanda, I don’t remember! If I had, don’t you think I would have apologized by now! Don’t you think that maybe, just maybe, I would have given you an “I’m sorry” so we could have avoided all of this? So that I would not have to deal with your bullshit for the past decade? So tell me, Wanda, what did I do to deserve this?”

“First day of school. Second grade. Recess," she spat out. Her words were so quiet but uttered with such venom.

Your brows furrowed in confusion at the seemingly random series of words, "What?"

She rolled her eyes, clearly frustrated with your lack of memories. While you could not remember what made her act this way, it had evidently stuck with her for years.

"It was my first day at this school," she began, her expression turning from red, hot anger into a stoic and collected nature. "Pietro and I had just moved to the States after losing our parents a few months before. Agatha was the only family member, albeit a distant family member, who was alive and willing to take us. So, we left everything behind and moved here."

You already knew the majority of this information, mostly after hearing it in brevity from Pietro. He had never truly talked about his time in Sokovia in depth, finding it distressing and uncomfortable to recall. You only discovered this one day when you both were 9, and you had followed him to his house after school for a play date. In a state of innocent curiosity, you asked him why he called (what you had assumed to be his mom) by her first name upon entering the house. He explained the basics, and that was the end of that. You understood and respected his quietness on the subject since then.

"Pietro has always been the better twin — better at school, better at sports, better at making friends. And, I'm just... me. So, he has always been better at the whole 'socializing' thing, even as an immigrant child with little knowledge of the States. Everybody seemed to like him, I guess. I, on the other hand, refused to talk... well, for the most part, at least. Anyway, on the first day of the second grade, my first day of school here, I was sitting on the edge of the concrete, picking at the grass."

She paused her speech, shifting her gaze to meet yours. "Then, this girl approached me. I thought, 'Wow, maybe I will have friends, maybe I will have friends and will finally be like Pietro.'” Wanda shook her head, shutting her eyes as if to remember each minute, each second, of that fateful day. Her accent was unconsciously growing thicker by the minute. “So, I greeted them, introduced myself like our mama had taught, and asked if they would like to play with me. You want to know what she did, Y/N?"

She opened her eyes, locking them with yours in a harsh stare. "'You talk funny,'" she hissed. "That's what the girl had said before running back to her group of friends. Truthfully, it's not even that deep of an insult, but it somehow spread like wildfire how the 'new girl' was abnormal, how she couldn’t even talk normally, how she was dirty with her dirty shoes and probably had fleas from her even dirtier home country, how no one could touch her or else they would be 'infected' by her."

“Why are you telling me this?” you stuttered out. “What does this have to do with you being a complete and utter bitch to me for the past ten years?”

Wanda huffed, “That girl was you, Y/N.”

Every breath you had suddenly left your chest. Your eyes widened, unsure of how to respond, “What?”

“You say I made your life a living hell? Bullshit. You ruined mine. You have everything I have ever wanted: friends, good grades… parents,” she said, her tone becoming soft with insecurity toward the end. “You even got my brother, my fucking twin brother! For fuck's sake! And yet, you still had to ruin my life."

"Wanda, I'm..." you began, but all of the words you have acquired in your seventeen years of life were failing you. "I'm sorry. I- I don't..."

This time, Wanda laughed, but it was not the depressed, low chuckle like before. No, this was something else entirely, a burst of maniacal laughter that indicated an unfound level of absurdity. Your eyebrows furrowed.

"'You don't' what, Y/N?" the brunette taunted.

You decided to be honest with her, "I don't know what to say."

"Of course not. 'Little Miss Perfect' never knows what to say when she finds out she's not so perfect after all."

Your sympathy gradually faded to the original anger you had been feeling. Your eyebrow involuntarily quirked, "Hold on, now... I never claimed to be 'perfect.'"

“Oh, please,” she replied, belittling your attempts to argue her predetermined notion of you. She began to mock you, “My name’s Y/N. I have the best grades in the entire school, all my friends love me, and, at night, my parents tuck me into bed and call me their little princess…”

Slowly but surely, your vision turned red. You stepped closer to Wanda, hoping the proximity would deter her from making additional snide comments about you.

“We all have our shit, Wanda,” you sneered. “You better quit now before I give you a reason to.”

She scoffed, “Oh, really? What are you gonna do? Tell mommy and daddy I…”

Her words were cut short by the placement of your lips on hers.

Truthfully, you were unsure of why you decided that this was the best course of action; perhaps your brain was simply shut off by the rage coursing through your body. Yet, that confusion did not stop you from continuing. In fact, it did not hinder either of you from continuing.

The kiss was forceful, containing all of the emotions you both have felt since that fateful night. Her mouth pushed and pulled roughly against yours; you returned the energy just as much. There were no thoughts, no rationality, behind both of your actions — only pure lust and passion.

Your hands started at her jaw but slowly drifted upwards toward the roots of her brown, messy hair, gripping and tugging at the strands. Parting from your lips for the first time in what must have been minutes, she released a moan from the sensation and continued to drift southwards toward your neck. As her teeth scraped at your pulse point, you were finally brought back to the reality of the situation.

You used the hands that were still threaded within her hair to pull her away from your neck; although, neither of you immediately stepped away from the other. You took the opportunity of your closeness to note how swollen her lips had become, how hot she looked under the dimness of the kitchen lighting.

"What are we doing?" you mumbled into the open air, not exactly expecting a response from the Sokovian in front of you.

She remained quiet, eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips. Her tongue darted out briefly, licking over her own lips in (what you assume to be, at least) preparation for more.

So, you seized the opportunity of her quietness to continue, "I'm not... I'm not perfect, okay? My parents... it's complicated. Sure, they're alive and whatnot, but... they don't care. Honestly, half of the shit I do — the grades, even — I do it so that they might finally pay attention. So, like I said, we all have our own shit to deal with."

Her lips parted, eyes stilled and staring into yours.

"And, l am sorry that that comment fucked you up as a kid. If I had known, even as a kid, I would've not said anything like that. I know I can't reverse time but..."

This time, her lips effectively ended your speech; however, the kiss was much softer than earlier, showcasing a newfound appreciation and, perhaps, feelings.

"I know," she acknowledged in a whisper after pulling away. "I'm... I'm sorry, too, by the way. I shouldn't have acted like that — it was cruel. We can talk more about it, about our... issues, later, but um- I just want to start over. Just us."

You nodded in affirmation, a blush flooding your cheeks.

"Just us."

The two of you sealed the agreement with a soft peck.

The sound of a glass shattering on the floor captured the attention of both of you, ending the kiss with the redirection of your heads in order to discover the culprit.

In the doorway of the kitchen, Pietro stood surrounded by broken glass splattered across on the wooden floor.

With widened eyes, you said the first and only thing that came to mind: "Oh, shi—"

End.

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x female reader #limarieb wanda maximoff #limarieb #marvel imagines #elizabeth olsen x reader #elizabeth olsen #wanda maximoff

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gildedkrone · 6 months

Note

tbh all I've been thinkin about is being in a relationship with simon n John(price) n often seeing John as a top/dom to simon n like ending up trying to do that to simon only for it to backfire and get urself absolutely punished for trying, n when John comes home to it, he only just gives u both a kiss and asks why ur being punished but does no move to help u :333

KINKTOBER 2023 🔞

“’s that all you can do?”

Shut up. He drawls, honeyed strings of sin spilling from delectable lips and with a hint of mirth in his eyes at your pathetic inexperience when it came to … this.

“Shut. Up.” And punctuated by a thrust of your hips and his lips part slightly.

They part, like the gates of heaven but alas, he is soundless and each attempt strips away at your confidence in this … situation. You had seen Price do it on multiple occasions, so why was it not working on Ghost?

He is wholly unfazed by your attempts to move your hips and for the past fifteen minutes, he remains leery of your intentions to top him.

“Darling, just call it a day, yeah?” No!

The door clicks open to reveal the captain’s slack jawed expression at the scene before him. Ghost is laid on his back propped up by pillows while you are settled between his thighs with your dick in him on the giant sofa in the apartment.

“This is a hell of a welcome home, sweethearts.”

His clothes are quick work and he shuts the door before hands find themselves on your hips and they are calloused, rough in sensations familiar in a feeling of Price. You smell the cigar smoke in hints of woodsy scents when his face rests beside yours on shoulders to take in the view.

“Go on, give a thrust.” You follow his orders and Ghost grunts softly when his walls are pushed apart by the intruding head ending in a shiver. Lubed hands gently massage your ass and the fingers are dancing sensations of ill-concealed lust as Price hummed.

He comments something wrong about the angle of your thrusts—not deep enough and too shallow to elicit any pleasure. Ghost swipes a hand and Price tuts in admonishing noises.

Bring his legs up, lad. Behave, Simon.

The cocky glint in his eyes dares you and it’s a spear of ego, driving you to prove him wrong. To reduce Ghost to a crying, overstimulated mess beneath your body, of flesh ridden with pleasure, too much pleasure and eyes full blown. What a sight it would be, to reduce your superior to a whore of a man in otherwise calm and steadfast manner of a working man; to ruin that stupid collected nature of his demeanour and force moans and drool from that ironclad mouth.

“You’ve got a big dick, lad. Now you’ve just got to learn how to use it.”

Ghost’s muscled and lovely thighs are raised to rest on your shoulders and fuck! The first experimental thrust had you falling even deeper into his ass and ripping a frazzled moan from his stoic mouth. You welcomed Price’s chuckle as he doled out praise while he nudged his dick against your rear.

“Wait, Price—ah!” His grunt is something guttural when Price is fully seated within you in one flush movement. No complaints, lad? No, you tell him. His dick is nicely firm and girthy and the fingers around your hips tighten in preparation for what’s to come.

“Hold on, sweetheart. Let the captain demonstrate.” And then, his hips are slammed flush against yours. You thought it would end there but Price is still pushing to drive your dick home within Ghost. The lieutenant growls something fierce turn airy when Price gives a hard thrust while you are still fully seated in him.

His low chuckles are set against two other men struggling to comprehend the new bout of pleasure in their loins. Whipping the golden shimmery reins of lust again, your gasp is echoed by Ghost when the burn from this new position turns into something wild.

The wildfires of sin burning up in your unfulfilled bodies.

“Fuck! Love—slo-ow down!” The ever stubborn lieutenant still struggles to retain some sense of control. Unfortunately, his partners have no intention of acquiescing and a hand grasps the forgotten organ between his legs.

The first strokes, combined with the rough and persistent thrusts, drowns in him pleasure a lurid gold and the very first of many moans slip through his lips. It’s pumping your ego, to know that he is very much affected by it now. As much as you are with Price’s dick still doing wonders in you.

“See this, sweetheart? This is h-how you fuckin’ do it.” Breathy pauses punctuate his low whisper and you nod blindly while the pace of the tryst is set by the captain and gods above, it’s something carnal—the way Price is rocking into you and the biting of Ghost’s lips and the smattering of pink dusting his cheeks.

He looks so beautiful in the laces of eros, and you renew your thrusts together with Price to really drive the man to hell and back. Mutters and whines grows in volume in beats of “fuck!” and “luvvie!” from the man drunk on pleasure beneath your moving body.

Sweat coats his torso in a light sheen as his abs flex to tighten his core as he tightens around your dick suddenly. It makes you feel all the bigger within him and wrapped up in tight, wet heat are the waves of the high eroding at instincts and control as you concentrate on not cumming right there and then into an ass greedily sucking to keep you in.

Price’s arm comes to wrap around your torso and the thrusts stop. The hand on Ghost’s leaky and angry looking dick stills too and he growls when the pleasure plateaus.

“This what you wanted, darling?” You fervently nod and Price instructs Ghost to beg. The itch in the knot in his groin overpowers his dignity and all sense of shame; broken words are all he can form with quivering lips taut with tension.

Begs, like a cheap common whore for you to move. To do anything to quell that fuzz that is driving him insane with how it consumes his sanity. Price asks if you think he deserves to come. Ghost’s lips are parted to expose the pink tongue brushing across his bottom lip and the occasional fidgeting of that beautiful body all splayed beneath you. You painted him into a pleasure drunk man, seeking nothing but whatever will tip him over into promised ecstasy. He begs, a breathy voice.

“Darlings, please … please! H-have mercy—fuck—I can’t … Price, m-make him move, sweethearts, don’t—”

Price rumbles something affectionate and moves your hips as Ghost whimpers and ramble off phrases of “yes!”. Fuck, no wonder Price loved this position—the cock drunk expression on Ghost’s face and the flimsy shield the human ego is to pleasure—the tip leaking with pre—is tripping your ego all the way up.

“He’s close, darling. Let’s bring him home, yeah?”

Bring him home you will, and the thrusts are absolutely designed to hammer home pleasure in a pinpoint blowing out into skies of euphoria and on the very edge of human perception, where pain meets pleasure and blends into undecipherable sensations wracking the chains shackled around Ghost’s lust to finally tip the man into an orgasm.

He comes with a noisy shout and his walls clench around you vice like while his dick empties his cum in spurts of liquid across his chest. You fare no better and the sudden tightness of his clenching walls tips you over too and your thrusts turn sloppy amidst blasts of hot cum. His cries of “y-yes! fuck!” when you seed him accompanies his instinctual need to milk you of all you have to give. Price comes last, with a grip leaving marks for days and burying himself to the hilt before warmth floods your orifice and leaks out around the member gently softening with each thrust. The captain’s noise of release is cathartic; the stress of the day and job gently easing with his climax.

“H-hope you learned something, love.”

Judging by the fluttering of Ghost’s eyelids and the mess on his abdomen, the man is absolutely fucked into oblivion and basking in the afterglow. Cum dribbles out of his ass when you pull out and Price's hand stops you.

“He’s so pretty like this. Don’t you think so, sweetheart?”

Ghost is a debauched man, laying on the bed with pride bruised and ego clawed by your doing as his chest heaves with each deep breath loud as thunder. Price whispers—one more time, to show him what you’ve learnt.

Ghost barely has time to protest when your dick pushes past his rim as his eyes come alive with disbelief and fright anticipation. Pleasure bubbles in waves and the man grasps your hand in an attempt to halt what’s about to happen. The glint in your eyes paint something predatory and he protests in broken moans when you start rutting into him.

“Fuck! Luvvie … Y-yer fuckin’ heathens”—his slurred speech barely makes it past chapped lips when you thrust into his quivering ass still sensitive from just now—“I—I wer’ fuckin’—right fuckin’ there!”

His curses are blots of encouragement on the spiral of lust entangling into a knot in your groin. The poor lieutenant claws at your hands—indecisive in asking you to stop or to keep going and with his hole stuffed and his dick weeping, you are sure to fuck him into overstimulation and more.

Fuck, if the scene before doesn’t do something to you as he sings for you and the man behind you takes his pleasure in you. Just as it should be, with your lovers in a lust fest that would put the trials of the Greek gods to shame.

Do not edit, reupload or translate my works without prior consent || masterlist || kinktober masterlist || thanks @malewh0re for the request (love you mootie)

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violetduchess · 10 months

Text

Hashira w/ oblivious s/o

Summary: You're pretty dumb but they love you

CW: None

Note: by demand

Giyu Tomioka (Water Hashira):

Giyu, being reserved and not adept at expressing his emotions, finds it challenging to directly confront his feelings for you.

He becomes more protective of you, keeping a watchful eye from afar and ensuring your safety during missions. He prioritizes your well-being without drawing attention to his actions.

Giyu's stoic demeanor falters in your presence, his normally calm and composed façade occasionally showing hints of nervousness or vulnerability.

He might drop subtle hints, such as offering you his coat when you're cold or taking on extra tasks to help ease your workload, hoping you'll notice and realize his affection.

Shinobu Kocho (Insect Hashira):

Shinobu, with her cheerful and playful nature, masks her true feelings behind her bubbly personality. She rarely reveals her vulnerable side.

She resorts to teasing and playful banter as a way to hide her affections, often leaving you guessing about her true intentions and making it difficult to discern her genuine feelings.

Shinobu tries to find more opportunities to spend time with you, whether it's suggesting additional training sessions or volunteering for joint missions.

She leaves small gifts or notes for you to discover, accompanied by playful hints or inside jokes, hoping that these gestures will eventually make you realize her true emotions.

Kyojuro Rengoku (Flame Hashira):

Kyojuro's naturally boisterous and enthusiastic personality becomes even more amplified in your presence as he tries to catch your attention and make you laugh.

He becomes your biggest supporter, offering words of encouragement and admiration during missions, always being there to cheer you on and celebrate your achievements.

Kyojuro may subtly drop hints during conversations, casually mentioning qualities or traits he admires, often sharing anecdotes of individuals who share similarities with you.

He tries to create more opportunities for one-on-one interactions, whether it's inviting you to join him for training or suggesting grabbing a meal together to get to know each other better.

Tengen Uzui (Sound Hashira):

Uzui's naturally flirtatious and charming nature goes into overdrive as he tries to grab your attention and make you feel special.

He showers you with compliments and playful banter, constantly finding ways to make you smile and feel appreciated.

Uzui involves himself in your life, going out of his way to join missions or events you're a part of, using those opportunities to spend more time together and demonstrate his interest.

He drops hints and makes veiled comments about his feelings during conversations, skillfully disguising his affection as casual remarks, hoping that you'll pick up on his intentions and respond in kind.

Gyomei Himejima (Stone Hashira):

Gyomei, known for his strong and stoic demeanor, finds it difficult to express his feelings directly. His actions speak louder than words.

He becomes incredibly protective of you, ensuring your safety at all costs and standing as a formidable shield against any threat.

Gyomei goes out of his way to assist you with tasks or offer support, silently shouldering burdens to ease your worries.

He often shows acts of kindness and thoughtfulness, such as offering you his hand when you stumble or lending a listening ear when you need someone to talk to.

Mitsuri Kanroji (Love Hashira):

Mitsuri's affectionate and passionate nature becomes even more apparent when she's around you. Her heart practically glows with adoration.

She finds herself constantly seeking your attention, engaging in conversations that highlight your qualities and making you feel valued.

Mitsuri goes above and beyond to help you, whether it's assisting with training or surprising you with thoughtful gestures and gifts.

She may become more physically affectionate, offering warm hugs and gentle touches, hoping that her actions will convey her deep affection.

Obanai Iguro (Serpent Hashira):

Obanai, known for his reserved and enigmatic nature, struggles to openly express his emotions. His affection is often hidden beneath a stoic façade.

He becomes more attentive to your needs, carefully observing and anticipating your desires to ensure your comfort and well-being.

Obanai may quietly lend a hand when you least expect it, subtly supporting you without drawing attention to himself.

He finds solace in silently observing you, admiring your every move and cherishing the moments he gets to spend in your presence.

Muichiro Tokito (Mist Hashira):

Muichiro's quiet and introverted nature makes it challenging for him to express his feelings directly. He tends to communicate through subtle actions and gestures.

He often finds himself stealing glances at you, his adoration evident in his gaze, but he struggles to find the right words to express his emotions.

Muichiro becomes more attentive to your presence, seeking opportunities to be near you without drawing too much attention to himself.

When you're around, he may appear slightly more talkative and engaged, making an effort to interact with you and share small snippets of his thoughts.

Muichiro may find comfort in simple acts of kindness, quietly leaving small gifts or tokens of appreciation for you to discover.

He treasures the moments when you two can spend time together, even if it's just sharing a quiet silence or engaging in a shared interest.

Muichiro's subtle displays of affection reflect his deep adoration for you, as he navigates the complex terrain of his emotions with a quiet determination.

Sanemi Shinazugawa (Wind Hashira):

Sanemi's rough and brash exterior hides a softer side that he struggles to express. He often masks his feelings with gruffness and sarcasm.

He may find himself constantly stealing glances at you, his gaze filled with a mix of longing and frustration at your obliviousness.

Sanemi may try to protect you in subtle ways, such as offering to accompany you on missions or keeping an eye out for your safety from a distance.

He may exhibit moments of unexpected kindness, like sparing a genuine smile or offering a small gesture of help when you least expect it.

Sanemi's affections may manifest through teasing and playful banter, using humor as a defense mechanism to cope with his own emotions.

He may struggle to articulate his feelings directly, often resorting to indirect comments or snarky remarks to hide his true emotions.

Sanemi's gruff exterior may soften when you're around, with small glimpses of vulnerability slipping through as he tries to navigate his feelings for you.

#xreader #giyuu x reader #muichiro x reader #sanemi x reader #rengoku x reader #mitsuri x reader #obanai x reader #gyomei x reader #uzui x reader #shinobu x reader

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highttowers · 10 months

Note

Hello i am requesting for Carmen from the Bear!! Something sweet and heart warming about Carmen being worried about the reader and just the whole kitchen seeing how in love he is ❤️ thank you

yes to heaven.

pairing(s); carmen “carmy” berzatto x gn!reader

fandom; the bear (fx on hulu)

w/c; 758 words

trigger/content warnings; brief sexual implications, brief mention of past injuries, language, richie (he’s a warning all by himself), tina n richie being mean to carmy lol, tina and reader chisme together, is this another fic with an ldr song title????, brief touches on carmy’s trauma (not in-depth cuz this is a fluff fic), not-proof read, lmk if i missed anything.

stella speaks! i need him biblically. at first, i was like “mmm, jeremy allen white” as a joke. but bro. i don’t think it’s a joke anymore…

Carmen “Carmy” Berzatto who’s always watching you. Who has his eye on you, if you will ;)

Carmy, whose eyes are trailing your figure when you first meet. Not in a sexual way, just taking in every detail. The way you stand, the way you move your hands when you talk. Any time you wear a shirt more than once, the nervous tics you have while he tries your food, if you have any visible tattoos, freckles, or birthmark. His eyes snag on every little thing you do for a split second.

Carmy, whose gaze is locked in your hands while you demonstrate your abilities. He’s taking in every scar, every cut, every tear, every burn that was once fresh in the skin of your hands and committing it to memory. He doesn’t know why, he just is.

Carmy, whose eyes will flicker to your face every so often as you cook, lingering in the scrunch of your brow, the purse of your lip, the muttering under you breath, every curve and divet on your cheeks.

Carmy, whose brain short-circuits the first time he sees you in anything other than your lose white tee, black pants and blue apron. Logically, he knows your body has always been shaped that way, so why is heat crawling up his neck in the biting Chicago air?

Carmy, whose new favorite thing is watching you cook. Especially the recipes you know by heart, when every lovely movement your body makes is muscle memory. Seamless and smooth.

Carmy who appreciates the habit you have of cleaning your station as you cook. Those pale blue eyes locked in you as he exits his office, watching you dumping veggies in a crock pot before scooping up the cutting board, knife, and any food waste and making short work of it.

Carmy who is personally offended by Richie watching you cook. Richie and his Richie-esque comments making him roll his eyes, or warning a scoff. “Makes you wanna know what other moves they can do, eh?” “Shut the fuck up, cousin.”

Carmy, whose habit of paying microscopically close attention to you has whispers from Marcus to Tina to Sydney to you. He appreciates the way you wave them off, using the new kid excuse.

Carmy, who’s been reduced to a stuttering mess when you confront him privately about it. He’s spilling out excuses, until you quietly ask him if he wants to grab coffee with you sometime.

Carmy who, the more and more he arrives to work either with you or with a dumb smile on his face, is getting endless teasing from Richie and Tina. Sydney quietly smiles at him, but mainly sticks to talking about the nature of y’all’s relationship with you.

Carmy, who admittedly fears anytime you let sitting with Tina, exchanging words that have her yelling curses or exclamations in Spanish.

Carmy, who has a retort ready for Richie when he asks you if that means he has a chance now, only to clamp his mouth shut when you wordlessly flip Richie off, bringing another soft look into Carmy’s eyes and a dumb grin on his lips.

Carmy who has to kiss every scar, every mark, every little thing in your body when given the chance. It’s a love language, remembering and worshipping every little thing about you.

Carmy who has his eyes on you so much, regulars at The Beef are silently questioning if there’s anything going on. (there is, but Carmy would sooner be Richie’s personal chef than admit it to customers.)

Carmy whose new greates comfort is you. Any fleeting fragment of you. Maybe you washed his clothes once and now they smell like you. Maybe you hugged him so much your scent lingers in his nose. Maybe he’s got a small piece of jewelry from you or reminiscent of you. Anything that has to do with you can bring him out of the deepest panic.

Carmy who swears up and down and to the ends of the Earth that he’s never gonna lose you. It’s not even an option anymore. He would actually just fall to pieces on the floor.

Carmy who shows the uglier parts of him slowly. You actually have to peel back the first layer and stare it directly in the face without fear before he shows you more. He’s just so scared.

Carmy who’s so so grateful you don’t try to fix him. You just leave him as he is, just giving extra love to those broken bits.

Carmy who used to hate love songs before you arrived.

Carmy who was losing faith in the very idea of love until you arrived.

#how many ts/lana del rey references can spot???#carmen berzatto #carmy berzatto #carmen berzatto headcanons #carmy berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto x reader #headcanon #the bear #the bear fx #the bear hulu #the bear on hulu #sydney adamu #🖋️ — my writing #🪁 — requests #🔪 — the bear

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dduane · 20 days

Note

Apropos of nothing (I traveled to Vermont today, April 8), do wizards engage in intergalactic solar eclipse tourism?

Other planets' wizards come here for that. (For the same reason they come to see Olympus Mons.)

Investigation and analysis of every other (single-primaried) planet on this side of the Local Group that has total solar eclipses will routinely demonstrate that the effects in question were purposefully set up by external forces, for a variety of reasons usually lost in the depths of time.* (Some of them appear to be homages to similar arrangements elsewhere.)

The Sol III / Sol IIIa pair is the only one on which investigation into its recorded historical ephemerides (documented in the Wizard's Manual back to the 5 gy period) cannot be shown to produce evidence of the relationship being a setup. The uniquely—if temporarily—perfect relationship between the pair is therefore routinely considered the equivalent of a "trope namer," and as a result inevitably subjected to attempts to debunk its natural origins by analyses that more or less inevitably fail of proof when followed through.

Emails soliciting comment on this issue from the Nut Power had not been answered at press time.

*Many of these wind up translating as "Just jerking their chain(s)."

#Young Wizards meta #eclipses #Earth #eclipse tourism #:)

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mrs-illyrian-baby · 3 months

Text

Babydoll | Bucky x Reader | Mutually Beneficial AU

After suggesting that you embark on a dom/sub relationship, Bucky reads about collars and gets you a gift.

Warnings: 18+, d/s themes, collaring, pet names & honourifics, suggestion of sex.

Masterlist | Bucky Barnes Masterlist | Mutually Beneficial Masterlist

Your relationship with Bucky was no secret to the rest of the team. If you were together you were touching, staying in each others spheres, gravitating to each other and that was before you had made it official two weeks ago.

There was, however, a side to your relationship the others didn't know so much about. Since the day you met it'd been clear Bucky liked to be in control and honestly you loved it. Being an Agent was hard work, stressful and wearing. Knowing that when your suit came off, and sometimes when it was still on, you didn't have to think of anything else gave you a deep sense of peace.

He was a commanding officer in the field so that felt perfectly natural, but he was very much a commander in the rest of your relationship too. It started small, making sure you ate and drank enough during the day, ensuring you were keeping up your good habits, making space for your hobbies. He was never angry when you didn't, but he'd offer incentives if you did. He'd say he was proud of you, call you his good girl and kiss your forehead, cheek, lips gently.

Then one day he joked he'd spank you for talking back in the field and you melted instantly, knees hitting the floor, forehead resting reverently on his leg and you apologised "I'm sorry, Sarge," you whispered. Not Bucky, not even James, "Sarge". And he was gone too, lost in the thought of you being his completely.

You had mentioned dom and sub dynamics to him before, playfully, and he'd jumped at the idea. It was very much early days, building up your likes and dislikes, but no relationship had ever felt so right as being Bucky's Babydoll.

In return Bucky liked being able to call the shots in his life, and that you trusted him completely gave him a renewed sense of himself. He was a decision maker, a care taker, a lover and it'd been such a long time since he'd been allowed to flex this side of himself that he had thrown himself into it engulfing you in his care and attention.

"You okay, Sarge?" You whispered in his ear, snuggled into his side on the sofa while the credits rolled on the Saturday morning kids film you'd both been dozing to.

He jolted a little, coming back to himself, the memory of your shining eyes looking up at him from the floor the night before distracting him.

"Of course, Doll, I'm with you" he kissed the top of your head, his hand warm on your back, holding you close against his firm side. The muscles of his chest jumping as you traced patterns through his shirt.

"Just looked like you were lost for a moment." You kissed his neck, one hand fiddling with the tags around his neck.

"I was, but I'm back now." He assured.

"What were you thinking about?" You traced the edges of his dog tags, running your hand over his chest agasin, down towards his stomach, but no lower, not without permission.

"Just you. How you make me feel. I like knowing you trust me, having you to look after. Makes me feel...whole again. Like I should." You felt your face heat from his words, the praise and love evident in every syllable.

"I like knowing I have you, that you've always got my back and my best interests at heart. That you look after me. You make me whole too," you rubbed your face into the side of his chest, burying yourself deeper in his warmth.

"Yeah? You like it when I take care of you, Babydoll?" He teased, kissing the top of your head and squeezing your sides.

"Of course I do. I need you, Sarge."

"Can I give you something. Something to show you're mine?" You shivered a little, Bucky calling you 'mine' was always in private and it made you feel hot all over to think he'd want to give you something permanent, demonstrable.

"Yes," you breathed back.

Bucky sat you both up pulling a box from his pocket and crossing his legs so you could sit face to face. "I got you a necklace," he handed the box over almost shyly, the blue velvet felt plush as you flipped it open.

Inside was a short gold chain with a little circular disk on. Inscribed on one side was 'Babydoll' with your birth stone underneath, your face lit up instantly at the thought of wearing it for him, of feeling his affection so close to you.

"Oh Bucky," you closed your eyes, bringing the box up to your heart.

"You don't have to wear it all the time if you don't want to. You don't have to wear it at all. But, I was reading about what you said, and then about collars. I'd really like if you wore it all the time. What do you think?"

"I love it," you grinned.

"You do?"

"Yes, Sir," you purred back, dropping your eyes demurely. He hitched his breath pulling you into his lap.

"And, if you like, maybe I could put one of my tags on it?"

"Yes!"

He pulled his tags over his head, sliding the extra tag off and onto the thin gold chain.

"Turn around, Doll," you slid out of his lap onto the floor between his thighs so he could wrap the chain around your neck.

It sat snug against the base of your throat, the silver disk laying over the top of Bucky's tag. You let your hand drift over the cool metal and met Bucky's on your sternum.

"Let me see?" He tipped your chin up between his finger and thumb with one hand, his metal fingers tracing the chain with the other. "You look beautiful."

Bucky held your hips as you climbed back into his lap again, sighing with approval.

"Sarge, its perfect." You shut your eyes at the feel of the cold metal, reminding you of Bucky's hand, firm yet loving. He growled, pulling you close by tugging on the chain, holding you still while he kissed you.

"No, Babydoll, you're perfect"

#Bucky #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #Bucky/Reader #Bucky Barns/Reader #dom!bucky #Muturally Beneficial AU

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arminsumi · 7 months

Note

HI JAY can i request accidentally getting armin hard?🤭 straddling him during something odm related for whatever n bro gets bricked up to the high heavens n youre both so shy n flustered BUT YALL GOTTA FUCK ATP

needa feel you

🔞 minors shoo / n.sfw / smut / 18+ content

note: ooh i love love love this !! fits armin perfectly 🤤

warnings — dirty talk, d!ck visuals, light begging, unprotected sex, creampie, creaming, prec*m, u and him being horny

you were just demonstrating to him a better hip shifting technique to go faster, and the poor boy blushed up to his ears. searing. hot. red. he started stuttering so badly he felt like he was a boy in the cadets again.

and when armin gets hard? god damn he gets hard. throbbing. hot. his juicy tip presses tight against those already tight white pants, the outline looking so good you wanna tug those pants off and take him into your mouth.

when you smile at him after noticing his hardness, he sputters apologies. " fuck, i'm sorry, haha. i-i don't know what's the matter with me, sorry. uh, sh-shit well don't move like that or you'll make it worse. "

" it's — okay. i don't mind. it's... natural, after all. " you speak slowly, nerves tingly. " wh - y... why don't we take care of it so we can get back to practicing more positions — uh, combat positions, you know. of course. "

his eyes widen, the whites showing around those pretty blue irises. you just completely flustered the poor boy.

but those eyes become lidded when the two of you end up with your bodies intertwined, sweaty and noisy and panting, fucking like two bunnies. it's all because of how you grinded your hips on his pelvis so erotically earlier.

feeling your plush thighs engulf his sides made him beg like a dog: "needa feel you, needa feel you so fucking bad please please please let's just d-do it here." he panted, kissing you like a lust-crazed teenager. as soon as you breathlessly nodded, he unfastened his belt — not bothering with taking off all his gear... that's just too much effort. so you fuck half-clothed, and it drives him wild. he's always eyed out the way the thigh belts squeeze your skin and make plush dents.

he's high on lust, head spinning. min's so dizzy from the feeling of your soft walls clenching tight around him, hugging his pretty, veined cock. you're milking out all his precum, creaming so much that a white wring forms around the base of his cock and he can feel it.

you feel and taste so sweet to him, it's too much. he has to stop thrusting every now and then just to catch his breath. and when he does that, his dumb fat tip digs into your favorite gummy spot, his length unmoving. his happy trail hair subtly grazes against your tummy as he keeps himself as close as possible to your body.

" that's so good — so good — so good so good, you feel so fucking good. s-ooo fucking good, baby ! " he pants, vocals straining and brows kneading together.

his body tenses up, muscles flexing and sweat dripping down the contours of his physique.

" don't stop, please don't you fucking stop, 'min. gonna make me cum. " you speak and shiver when he starts up those sloppy strokes again.

your head goes empty, body goes numb on pleasure; how can it feel this insanely good? min's falling apart under your influence. when he cums, he blurts out some surprising things.

like a chant of " i love you i love you i love you — i fucking love you ! " right as he fills you to the brim with his creamy release.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

#mdni #smut #armin smut #armin arlert smut #armin x reader smut #armin x you #armin x y/n #aot smut #snk smut #armin x reader #armin #armin arlert #aot #snk #aot x reader #attack on titan smut #attack on titan x reader

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artemisia-black · 3 months

Text

Wizarding clothing and fashion

This meta/list of HCs has been sitting in my drafts for a while. But here is my meta about wizarding fashions.

1.0 An insular culture with its own unique dress

No shade to people who enjoy seeing and drawing characters in muggle clothing, but I think that the majority of wizards and witches dress in wizarding clothing.

Indeed, the fact that most wizards can’t dress as muggles and are quite conspicuous is mentioned in the first chapter of the series:

“People in cloaks. Mr. Dursley couldn’t bear people who dressed in funny clothes — the getups you saw on young people! He supposed this was some stupid new fashion.” PS

And then becomes a sort of running joke:

“Both were dressed as Muggles, though very inexpertly: The man with the watch wore a tweed suit with thigh-length galoshes; his colleague, a kilt and a poncho” GoF

And in DH it is (partly) how Harry recognises that people are watching Grimmauld Place:

“The lurkers were never the same two days running, although they all seemed to share a dislike for normal clothing. Most of the Londoners who passed them were used to eccentric dressers and took little notice, though occasionally one of them might glance back, wondering why anyone would wear such long cloaks in this heat.” DH

Side note: it is peak Londoner to barely take notice of something odd. And this also implies that robes and cloaks are all year wear and that wizards potentially don’t have seasonal clothing.

Given that wizarding culture is very insular (with its own economy, government, and education system), it would make sense that while it may occasionally borrow trends from the muggle world, wizarding fashion and clothing are unique.

In fact, only the younger generation are seen in muggle dress, with Harry commenting:

“Their children might don Muggle clothing during the holidays, but Mr. and Mrs. Weasley usually wore long robes in varying states of shabbiness.” GoF

2.0 Class and generational differences in dress

The previous quote demonstrates two things: much like in real life, there is generational and class stratification of dress. The condition and quality of wizarding clothing serves as a non-verbal cue about a character's economic status. This disparity is not just a background detail but is frequently brought into focus, such as through Draco Malfoy's derisive comments about Professor Lupin's tattered robes.

“ Malfoy gave Professor Lupin an insolent stare, which took in the patches on his robes and the delapidated suitcase.” PoA

“Look at the state of his robes,” Malfoy would say in a loud whisper as Professor Lupin passed. “He dresses like our old house-elf.” PoA

Even Harry comments on his robes and observes that:

“Professor Lupin looked particularly shabby next to all the other teachers in their best robes”

The patched and frayed nature of both Lupins and Weasley’s robes seem to indicate that robe repairs can’t be done by an individual (or when it is done, it is really visible). Another example of this is when Ron removes the lace from his dress robes and leaves:

“...the edges still looked depressingly frayed as the boys set off downstairs.” GoF

Additionally, in Padfoot returns Sirius’s prison robes still appear tatty despite him having had a haircut and left the country. This indicates that he either can’t obtain new robes or can’t/hasn’t bothered repairing his Azkaban robes.

This is interesting, given that Molly Weasley is able to make jumpers and scarves yet can’t seem to alter robes. While knitting and sewing are separate skills, it seems odd that there aren’t means of repairing robes.

This suggests that robes can only be repaired and bought at official vendors such as Madam Malkins/Gladrags/Twifitt and Tattings.

It is also interesting that both Fred and George buy clothing when they become successful (also a parallel to the real world). They gift their mum:

“….a brand-new midnight blue witch’s hat glittering with what looked like tiny starlike diamonds, and a spectacular golden necklace.” HBP

However, things being ‘frayed’ aren’t always an indication of poverty. Tonks is first introduced wearing an outfit that is a mix of muggle clothing but with something that is distinctly wizarding:

“Tonks stood just behind him…. wearing heavily patched jeans and a bright purple T-shirt bearing the legend THE WEIRD SISTERS.” OoTP

This outfit is heavily reminiscent of Sirius and James in the Elvendork prequel:

“Both were dressed in T-shirts emblazoned with a large golden bird; the emblem, no doubt, of some deafening, tuneless rock band.”

3.0 The underwear question

Something that gets bought up a lot is whether wizards wear underwear.

Harry (who was raised by muggles certainly seems to):

“He was just piling underwear into his cauldron when Ron made a loud noise of disgust behind him.” GoF

And:

“He was shivering now, his teeth chattering horribly, and yet he continued to strip off until at last he stood there in his underwear…” DH

So does Neville (in the UK, Pants means underwear)

“He broke off as Neville entered the dormitory, bringing with him a strong smell of singed material, and began rummaging in his trunk for a fresh pair of pants.”

And infamously, so does Snape:

“Snape was hanging upside down in the air, his robes falling over his head to reveal skinny, pallid legs and a pair of graying underpants.”

Also we get some information about witch’s underwear from Sirius’s very Freudian joke:

“Sirius looked slightly disconcerted for a moment, then said, “I’ll look for him later, I expect I’ll find him upstairs crying his eyes out over my mother’s old bloomers.”

Bloomers are a type of historical, baggy underpants (think boy shorts, but make it victorian).

In conclusion, Archie, who wanted a breeze around his privates, was probably an outlier.

4.0 Materials and accesories

So what is wizarding clothing made of?

For robes and cloaks the materials most mentioned are silk/satin and velvet:

“ She was dressed from head to foot in black satin, and many magnificent opals gleamed at her throat and on her thick fingers.” GoF

Additionally in GoF, we learn that even witches and wizards from other countries wear robes and cloaks:

“Now that they had removed their furs, the Durmstrang students were revealed to be wearing robes of a deep bloodred.”

And

“...Bulgarian minister loudly, who was wearing splendid robes of black velvet trimmed with gold.”

Other materials include Dragon hide which appears to be used to make practical gloves and boots but also fashionable jackets.

“... followed by Fred and George, who were wearing jackets of black dragon skin.” HBP

Additionally, robes can be embroidered:

“ The man’s scowling, slightly brutish face was somehow at odds with his magnificent, sweeping robes, which were embroidered with much gold thread” DH

“Harry glimpsed Slughorn at the head of the Slytherin column, wearing magnificent, long, emerald green robes embroidered with silver” HBP

“Madam Rosmerta scurrying down the dark street toward them on high-heeled, fluffy slippers, wearing a silk dressing gown embroidered with dragons.” HBP

Interestingly, both men and women appear to wear heels:

Dumbledore:

“He was wearing long robes, a purple cloak that swept the ground, and high-heeled, buckled boots” PS

Madame Maxine:

“Then Harry saw a shining, high-heeled black shoe emerging from the inside of the carriage..” GoF

Monsiour Delacour:

“However, he looked good-natured. Bouncing toward Mrs. Weasley on high-heeled boots, he kissed her twice on each cheek, leaving her flustered.” DH

Madame Rosmerta:

“ Next he saw another pair of feet, wearing sparkly turquoise high heels,” POA

Furthermore, witches carry handbags:

“Mrs. Weasley now came galloping into view, her handbag swinging wildly” COS

“ She was wearing a thick magenta cloak with a furry purple collar today, and her crocodile-skin handbag was over her arm.” GoF

“Professor Umbridge pulled a small roll of pink parchment out of her handbag” OoTP

“Ron was rummaging through the little witch’s handbag.” DH

5.0 My HCs

When I imagine what male robes look like, I imagine something akin to a Morrcan thobe or an Indian Sherwani.

I imagine robes to be enchanted to move and in my fic Pietas, I describe my OC Aeliana’s robes as follows:

“She smiled slightly, smoothing the front of her dress, which was decorated with embroidered flowers and birds that had been enchanted to flutter their wings.”

I also HC some cultural variance in robes- with certain countries using different cloth or the skin of magical animals that are native to their countries. With hotter countries, having lighter robes and cooling/anti-perspiration charms.

#harry potter

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mouschiwrites · 3 months

Note

Hey can we get the Ninjas with an S/O who's basically Jessica rabbit and how they would deal with people constantly hitting on their S/O?

Of course my dear!! Unrelated but I love Jessica Rabbit,,,

Ninjago - Ninjas With an s/o Who Gets Flited With a Lot

Kai

When he first sees someone flirting with you, his initial reaction is a sort of pride

He's happy that other people are noticing how smoking hot his s/o is

But that only lasts for half a second; then comes the jealousy

He hops up and tries to look casual while he saunters over and wraps an arm around your waist

He'll stare coldly at the person flirting with you, trying to intimidate them

When it doesn't work he uses his voice, trying to show the person that they're not welcome

"And just who are you again?"

He'll only get more passive aggressive as the interaction goes on

There have been times that he's escalated it to straight-up aggression, and even violence, at which point you had to take it upon yourself to remove you both from the situation

You'll have to talk to him while he cools down, letting him vent about how angry the person was making him

In the end he knows it's not your fault and that you'd never leave him

Still, reassuring him on that front would probably help him calm down

He's just mad that some scumbag thought they could take you from him

After such an instance he usually sticks close to you, making sure to keep a hand on you to demonstrate that you're together

Cole

He doesn't really care when people flirt with you

He knows that it's only natural; you're the most gorgeous person in the world to him (and others, evidently)

He trusts that you'll be loyal and that you can handle yourself

But he still keeps an eye on you when out in public

He's watching to see if you're uncomfortable and need help; only then will he step in

He knows all your tells, but you guys also have a secret hand gesture that means you need help

So, when he sees the gesture, or any body language signaling that you're uncomfortable, he jumps into action

He sidles up to your side, placing himself as close as possible to you

He'll try to be at least somewhat pleasant at first: just emphasizing that you guys are dating, hoping to put the person off

But if that doesn't work he'll be more blunt

"Dude. You're being creepy. Get lost."

When they finally leave, he checks to make sure you're okay

Your well-being is much more important to him than any doubts he might have about your relationship

Not that he has any; he's fully confident that your relationship is strong

But if he did he'd still put you first

If you want him to be your body guard for the rest of the night, he'll happily oblige

(and he makes a pretty good guard, too, being so huge and intimidating (when he wants to be))

Jay

He HATES when people flirt with you

Like, he knows why; you're obviously always the most attractive person in the room

But you're his s/o! Other people shouldn't be flirting with you!

Sometimes he wishes that you could just wear a big sign that says "I'm taken"

(He has actually asked you to do this before)

The second he sees someone talking to you, he's already inching closer to see what's up

Even if they're not being outright flirty, he's still suspicious of them

He'll keep getting closer, not bothering to be sneaky at all

This often has the unintentional effect of the person leaving before he even gets within talking range

They just get creeped out that this guy is glaring at them while slowly yet steadily approaching

If they don't get scared off, he wraps an arm around you and intensifies his glare

He'll insert himself into the conversation crudely, speaking directly to you and "ignoring" the other person

"Hey, babe. Ready to go back to our shared apartment? Where we live together because we're partners?"

Then the person usually takes the hint, but by then they're probably more amused than annoyed

When they're finally gone Jay still watches them, still glaring

He's a little insecure that you'll leave him, just because you're so stunning (and, admittedly, sometimes the people flirting with you are, too)

He'll need lots of reassurance that he's good enough for you :(

Zane

Out of all the ninjas, Zane is the most bothered when people flirt with you

He knows he's not the best when it comes to romance, so he feels like every time someone flirts with you he's instantly being one-upped

It makes him more sad and insecure than anything

He knows that you're loyal to him, so he's not jealous

But he doesn't know why you're so adamant to stay with him, especially when someone flirts with you

He just frowns while he listens to their clever pick up lines, sometimes not even understanding them

It makes him feel a little better when you frown, too

When you send him the "a little help here?" look, though, that's when his heart skips a beat

It's his chance to show why he's the one you chose

He balks for half a second, but quickly gathers the courage to insert himself into the interaction

He places himself at your side, standing like a perfect gentleman and even smiling faintly (despite the fact that he feels a little inferior to the flirter)

Then it's your cue to emphasize what a gentleman he is, and how disinterested you are in everyone else

"This is my boyfriend, Zane. He's always so respectful in. Just look at how he's standing! Never gets all handsy or flirty in public, either."

Zane just nods, his smile growing along with his confidence

He needs to hear those words about as much as his "competitor" does

Once they're gone, he feels much more confident about himself and why you want to be with him :)

Lloyd

Lloyd respects you immensely; he knows you're loyal, honorable, brave... and most of all, drop-dead gorgeous

It's that last thing that worries him a little

Not because it makes him question your other merits; not at all

It makes him more conscious about others' merits (or rather, lack of)

He doesn't trust people to be respectful to you

He tries his best not to hover when you're in public, but he does get a touch anxious if you don't check in every now and again

Especially if you're the type to get uncomfortable when someone flirts with you

He tries to prevent flirting from happening in the first place, but sometimes it just can't be helped

The second he sees someone flirting with you, anxiety strikes

He knows how... inappropriate flirting can get, and just the thought makes him blush

He doesn't want you to be subject to that

So he'll hurry to your side, turning the situation away from romance

He won't be nasty or try to scare the person off, he'll just redirect the conversation

"Hey, how about that game last night? The, uh... sports... game..."

He's trying 😭

He doesn't want to disrespect this person (even though they're low-key disrespecting you)

When they're gone he'll double-check to make sure they didn't make you uncomfortable or anything

As long as you're good, he's good :) until someone else comes up

Nya

She also gets flirted with a lot, especially operating in a team of all boys

So she knows the struggle, and she's fully equipped to help you out

She'll teach you the tricks she's learned to scare off creeps, but of course she's also always more than happy to step in

You guys have a complete code language of phrases and gestures that mean things ranging from "creep o'clock, be on guard" to "I'm good, are you?" to "please save me"

To give an example: if you're both in a conversation and someone is starting to seem like they have bad intentions, you can say "I saw a snake a while ago," which means "potential creep right here. thoughts?"

Responses include: "so did I," ("yep, let's ditch") or "no, it was a rubber hose, remember?" ("let's stick around a little longer")

It's a very intricate language that only expands over time

You guys actually have a lot of fun making and using it

And it's obviously quite useful

But in terms of jealousy, since Nya knows what it's like to be harassed, she knows it's not a challenge to one's loyalty

She totally trusts you, and expects you to feel the same

But sometimes when she just really doesn't like someone, she'll put a protective arm around you and make it obvious that you're hers

When they're finally gone, you guys either giggle about it or watch them leave with scowls; either way you make sure to check in on each other first

In general, though, you guys learn to have fun expelling unwarranted advances; it's almost like a fun little game you play together :]

Thank you for this request! And thanks for reading, take care sweet duckies <33

(divider by saradika)

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mysticdoodles · 9 months

Note

hi i saw a post about the fish playing with the human child and even though your addition to that post is 3 years old by now i would love to hear more about ftm sheephead fish :3 (no pressure btw!)

Fish curiosity, in my inbox?? It's more likely than I think, apparently! xD

First off, there's actually multiple fish dubbed 'sheephead'! There's the sheepshead- note the extra S in there- and they look like this:

And yes those are their teeth. Horrifying tbh, but they're very good at what they do- crushing invertebrates and other shelled snacks! They're an Atlantic species that sticks to temperate and warmer waters, and they max out at about half a meter in length.

That's not the fish we're talking about today. The focus of today is the California sheephead wrasse- note the lack of a second S- also known as the 'sheephead' for short. Not confusing at all! We definitely don't bash our heads into walls over the naming conventions and lack of record-keeping of our scientist predecessors.

THIS is the sheephead wrasse, the species of the lovely and now Tumblr-famous Red! :D With a length of up to a FULL meter, they're a whole different size class of fish! They can be found along the west coast USA from the Baja Peninsula all the way up to Monterey, and dwell almost exclusively in kelp forests and nearby environments. I will use one of Red's pics as an example of female coloration-

The lighting isn't great but you can see how her body is streamlined, and besides the white underside of the jaw, has a salmon-pink coloration! Females can be pink or a dull silver-beige. And much like other large marine wrasse, MALES have a drastically different appearance.

This thing is built like a damn tank!! Sheephead are a species of wrasse that shift colors to gain those striking black scales and physically bulk up when becoming males- because guess what? ALL OF THEM ARE BORN FEMALE! By default, all male California Sheephead are FTM trans :) They use that bulky head and extremely tough set of jaws to not only hunt their preferred prey- mollusks, gastropods, and bivalves, etc- but also to bash and chomp down on rival males. This one has won many battles, look at that scarred up muzzle!

The sex change is determined by several factors, as it's not guaranteed all sheephead will eventually become males. Because sheephead school in a harem system- many females to very few males- in order to maximize pressure of stronger offspring, the biggest and healthiest sheephead male will drive out competition from the school. Naturally, a sheephead that lives longer and gains a greater size will have a much higher chance of shifting from a female to a male, if the conditions are right. Stress induced from competition can suppress the hormones that stimulate this transition in females, so they're less likely to gain size and shift from female to male if there's already strong competition taking place. However, in the event there are too few males to mate with the females, or no males present at all, the biggest female will start transitioning to fill the empty slot! It's a long process that can take as few as a couple months, or up to years, depending on resources available.

Conversely, if there are TOO MANY males, they can revert back into females! This process also takes a long time, and is a lot more rare to witness, especially because right now male California sheephead in particular are being spear-fished into becoming an Endangered species :c Sheephead adult males in good condition are considered a trophy animal in spear-fishing and similar marine trophy hunting off the West coast, and because males in particular are being targeted, the gene pool is being reduced when it wrecks the harem structure of schools.

As a fun fact- they're also an incredibly smart fish, and can form relationships with humans, as demonstrated with me and sweetiepie Red cx There's many documented cases of large marine wrasses forming long-term friendships with divers! Here's a humphead wrasse that made friends with a diver she learned would crack snails open for her with a hammer:

I don't work at the facility with Red anymore, but I currently work with two unnamed adult male sheephead, and once again they both like me and seem to despise all my coworkers, even if I never had the opportunity to train them like I did with little Red xD They pick favorites I guess? Now if only I could make friends with the garibaldi...

#marine life #marine biology #Sheephead wrasse #California sheephead #sheephead #wrasse #fish

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raven-at-the-writing-desk · 2 months

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Hello! I am SO hyperfixated on the fact that the overblot form CAN be controlled??? That’s the case with Malleus isn’t it? And I guess on one hand I can see how Idia can control it too because of his “curse/blessing” (and sheer will and spite).

Maybe this is foreshadowing that maybe it’s possible for the other OB boys to do so as well???? I don’t know how it’ll work with them but I’m so excited. Overblot cards potential AAAH

I’d love to hear more of your thoughts on this!

[Referencing this post!}

Yeah, I definitely think that OB Idia battle segment opens the floodgates for potential SSR Overblot Troublemaker(s) cards 💀 (RIP to the OB gang fans)

As a refresher for everyone (since it has been a while), alllllll the way back in book 1, Crowley and Cater describe “overblot” as thus: “[… being] overcome by negative energy and[…] losing control of [one’s] magic and emotions,” and “evil berserk mode”.

We’ve seen many examples of these traits in the main story campaign; oftentimes, the OB boy in question is impossible to reason with and has to be subdued via battle. However, it’s important to note that while the OBs may be primarily driven by their emotions, it is not purely rage but rather negative feelings in general. Yes, many OBs (Riddle, Leona, Azul, Vil, etc.) do attack others—but other OBs demonstrate moments of calm (ie when their demands are met). For example, Jamil is tame when he believes he has banished Kalim, secured hypnotized Scarabia mobs, and reigns over the dorm as its new leader. I do believe anger is still a large component of the behavior of one who has overblotted though; that rage most certainly clouds a person’s judgment and compels them to strike out at the slightest thing.

Now, about the idea of “controlling” OBs… I don’t that that can actually be done?? We have to remember that Malleus is a VERY powerful mage—and this alone could give him an “edge” that others don’t when it comes to being fully aware while in OB (though I believe both Malleus and Vil indicate early on they notice their blot building). As Idia’s dad states, Malleus is drawing his magic from nature itself and therefore has a limitless supply it. Secondly, I wouldn’t call Malleus’s OB “controlling” it to begin with. It’s clear that he’s still running high on emotions and is unwilling to hear others out or have them interfere with his plans. These are still traits associated with OB; it’s not as though Malleus is “overriding” the unreasonable thoughts, he is still ruled by them and acts on them. I think what you (maybe?) mean is that Malleus has a much more calculating approach and more precise control over how he wields his power rather than indiscriminately smashing stuff in his path. This, again, could do with his insane power level compared to his peers. Unlike most other OBs, his goal (at least in his own framing) before he overblotted to begin with wasn’t to “take away”, but rather to “gift” happy endings to everyone. This sets him apart just based on interests alone, and that’s perhaps why he acts the most different in the lot.

Now let’s consider the circumstances under which Idia OBs a second time: it’s in a dream, meaning it’s questionable whether or not this would transfer over to real life. Because it’s Idia’s dream, he has more autonomy in it, particularly because he is now “awake”/conscious of the fact that it is a dream. Secondly, Idia bears the Shroud family’s curse/blessing, which allows him to “power up” the more blot is present, as it serves as fuel for his magic. This alone makes him a “special case” which could explain the unusual amount of control he exerts over his OB form. (Again though, I’d wager it’s mostly the dream environment.)

I do see maybe the other OB boys doing a similar “oh, lemme OB to help you guys fight” in a dream situation where there are fewer limits on what they can do, but not in a real world setting. It would put them all at risk anyway, as they lack Idia’s curse/blessing or Malleus’s fae powers. Is that worth the risk, knowing they could all die or potentially turn on their classmates?

I just don’t see OB becoming a “tool” or a magical girl transformation the characters could pull out for combat purposes in the story (though this is possible for like the gameplay outside of the story). I highly doubt OB is like something you could train yourself to control; it’s less like bulking up at the gym and more like pushing yourself to keep exercising while you’re high on adrenaline… Sooner or later, you’d burn out and injure yourself in that overexertion.

If there ever are OB cards, I can easily see them as being the type that don’t come with vignettes because… what reasonable story could you conjure up to explain the OBing again? If there are vignettes, then they most likely won’t fit into the main story canon. You’d have to frame the OB cards as “within the moment” of whatever book they OB’d in, and perhaps go more in-depth about the trauma or something along those lines.

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shirefantasies · 3 months

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hi!! I love your writing so I'd like to request if that's ok :D please could you write a preference scenario (romantic plz) for all the Hobbit characters with an s/o with touch as their love language? if you'd feel comfortable making it a little suggestive then that'd be amazing but don't worry if not, fluff is more than ok with me!

thank you! <3

Your kind words do my heart wonders lovie 🥹🥰 also absolutely 100% take my metaphorical money 💸🫶🏻 some are more suggestive than others just based on the personalities/natures of the characters but I really hope you love it!!! 💕 threw in some extra non-company characters since the ask sounded comprehensive, enjoy 😉

The Hobbit Characters + Physical Affection (Suggestive Version)

Balin

✧ His contented sighs and sounds of pleasure at your affection are some of the most encouraging things you’ve heard.

✧ Loves pressing kisses to your bare shoulders.

✧ Balin is always the one to help dress you, little touches like doing up your laces and things, but he is also the one who helps undress you at the end of the day. Hands carefully working over you to undo every tie of your garments, eyes trying not to roam too far, instead opting to search yours…

✧ He has this little habit of sliding his hands up your sleeves to caress your arms.

✧ Occasionally calls you a pet name he tends to reserve for in private just to flip the script upon his own reaction to your touches.

Dwalin

✧ Gives you the proudest smirk and chuckles deeply when he feels your hands upon him.

✧ You rest your head against him only to feel him move it aside with a surprising gentleness before his lips are on your neck.

✧ When you tell him that you’re cold and reach into the folds of his coat, he remarks with great satisfaction that he knows a way you two could keep warm.

✧ Sparring sessions with Dwalin tend to end up with you pinned and straddled, his gaze boring intensely into yours.

✧ Party trick as it may seem to be, Dwalin can even turn lifting you up on his bicep sensual if he so desires, his other hand reaching for you as you pull to his lips.

Thorin

✧ The type to tell you ‘no, not here’ when he feels you pulling into him, then cave and proceed to kiss you so hard you lose all breath in your lungs.

✧ The further your relationship goes on, soon it will come to your notice how accustomed you are to the feeling of Thorin’s hand protectively about your waist nearly at all times, giving it the occasional squeeze.

✧ Cannot keep his hands off you if you wear his coat, especially if you are wearing little to nothing else.

✧ It’s irresistible to tease Thorin just to see the arch of his brows in surprise at your forward motions, be they placing his hands upon you or roaming yours over him.

✧ Driving Thorin crazy is quite easy, my friend- simply whisper “yes, My King” in his ear.

Oin

✧ Shamelessly makes jokes about how you should slow down, he is the one who's supposed to give you the check-up after all.

✧ Knowing the most about bodies and being studied in their reactions, he very quickly learns both your habits and in turn the places you prefer to be touched.

✧ His massages are expert, heavenly, his hands working over all the right muscles and spots. Such moments are an excuse for you to look through Oin’s oils and choose your favorite scent or mood.

✧ Insists he only know how to undress you so fast from having to do it in emergencies, he swears…

✧ Whispers his desires into your ear, but favors your love of demonstrations to save you having to call out private matters through his trumpet in front of the whole camp.

Gloin

✧ If you were to open up a dictionary and look up the word 'handsy', you would see a picture of Gloin beneath it; he adores the fact that you're the same, proud to tell anyone you can't keep your hands off him.

✧ One of his favorite sensations upon this earth is the way your hands slide over his chest, sometimes even grabbing the edges of his coat, as your lips collide.

✧ Another is when your fingers tangle into his hair, even if they end up pulling a bit.

✧ Bedtime all but brings Gloin wrestling you down into position where he can hold you or lie on top of you. Whether you stay that way or not is up to you…

✧ Puffs out his chest first, then sweeps you into the kiss of a lifetime the day you absentmindedly run your hands over him and squeeze his arms, complimenting his muscles.

Bifur

✧ When allowed to, his hands will roam your body as if trying to memorize every inch of it.

✧ Absentmindedly strokes a hand up and down your legs when you throw them in his lap.

✧ Has been known to silently slip off articles of your clothing and offer pieces of his instead.

✧ In addition to that, he has the teasing habit of sliding hands into your clothes, especially when they’ve gotten cold, just to see and feel the way you contort and shiver in shock.

✧ Signs obscene things with such a straight face or look of mild questioning when you initiate affection, laughing wickedly at your reply of shock or eagerness.

Bofur

✧ I maintain that Bofur adores affection and is unafraid to show it, even going so far as to hold you in his lap and show you (and the fact that only he can do that) off!

✧ As you stand together, foreheads resting against each other, you can feel his hands draw patterns upon your hips.

✧ Even cuddling with Bofur is quite a sensual experience, your limbs a tangle and his lips often sneaking their way to find your neck or chest.

✧ You can always feel him smile against you when your tongue slides to the seam of his lips, deepening the kiss instantly.

✧ Bofur also quite enjoys nibbling on your earlobes if you let him, taking breaks between kisses over there.

Bombur

✧ Blushes at your affections and gives you a look like you are an angel upon the earth.

✧ Main offender of turning a peck onto the cheek into more at the last minute, turning to capture your lips instead.

✧ Occasionally forgets himself amidst your nature and gets a wee bit too comfortable; tells you you have something on your face at dinner and then proceeds to kiss or lick it off like that’s normal procedure.

✧ Almost always has a hand upon your knee or thigh beneath the table, too. Sometimes it remains stationary, other times not so much.

✧ Tends to mirror the affections you give under the assumption that you give what you desire. Sometimes does the things that pleasure you most with the silence, but the most eager look you’ve ever seen, questioning if he’s doing well because frankly he enjoys the praise.

Dori

✧ Definitely more prim and proper about things, so all of that must be in private!

✧ That being said, 'collecting firewood' is a great excuse to go somewhere secluded and enjoy each other’s company behind a tree.

✧ Always asking if you’re enjoying things to learn what gives you the most pleasure, following your responses to his every kiss and touch.

✧ You can feel it in the way he touches you, responds to your touch, that he is all but wondering if you are real or someone who stumbled forth from his wildest dreams set to disappear back into the recesses of his mind.

✧ Takes your hand and places kisses up your arm, sometimes getting less gentlemanly as he goes along.

Nori

✧ You are two peas in a pod! Keeping his hands to himself is barely in Nori’s vocabulary.

✧ When you kiss you can fully expect to feel them roaming, sometimes settling for a grip upon the hindquarters or others running up and down your back.

✧ Lets his lips brush the shell of your ear as he leans in to whisper all sorts of messages, be they comments on the others or promises for the evening.

✧ If your hair is long enough, he loves to tangle his hands in it and tug it in your most intimate moments.

✧ Do not expect to sit down without his grip upon your thigh or even the feeling of your skirt’s edge lifting if you wear one…

Ori

✧ Goes bright red at the way you’re always keeping connected, a hand over his or even both around him.

✧ When you yank him in by the scarf for a passionate kiss, why he’s in heaven, smiling into every motion.

✧ Desperation colors his kisses at times, sending his hands gripping you for dear life and his lips searching for treasure he finds with you again and again.

✧ Has never voiced this, but you can tell by the way his breath hitches that he loves it when you wrap your legs around him.

✧ If he is feeling quite bold you may catch Ori sneaking a hand into your pocket, usually to find yours or place a little surprise gift knowing the small touch keeps your heart warm.

Fili

✧ Loves the way your hands slide around his waist and up his tunic, searching for the warmth of his skin.

✧ Knowing how loved you feel by his touch, Fili often keeps you right beneath his arm, halfway embracing as you stroll.

✧ Traps you with his legs upon taking his desired big spoon role, finding new and creative ways to wrap them around you that may apply in later times as well.

✧ Adores when you shuffle underneath him while he does push-ups, kissing your lips, cheeks, or neck with each bob down. You know the shifts of his mood by if this changes to bites.

✧ Bites upon your neck are another common occurrence, leaving you to tease him that you’ll need a whole new wardrobe of turtlenecks!

Kili

✧ He’s right there with you, whether it’s simply wanting to be holding hands all the time or playfully giving your arse a light smack as you walk by!

✧ You two already have the habit of resting one’s legs upon the other’s lap, but if you happen to wear a skirt when it’s your turn…

✧ Cups your face and looks at you with the biggest smile, breathless in your presence before a kiss that has you barely separating for air, but never fully apart.

✧ One of his habits is catching your hands as they trace over his body when they reach a spot he really likes to be touched.

✧ His hands tend to slide down your back and settle upon your hindquarters when you two share kisses.

Bilbo

✧ Sometimes you’ll just pass the burglar by, running a hand down his arm and giving him a look that has him flushing beet red.

✧ Another one who prefers these things in private, but if you initiate and Bilbo is feeling quite bold he may deftly sneak a hand into your back pocket as you walk. Only if no one is behind you two, of course.

✧ Nuzzles his nose against your before kissing you like he isn’t about to dip you passionately.

✧ Whatever access to your skin is granted, Bilbo practically worships it, awed and reverent in his every touch.

✧ He loves resting his head against your chest, nuzzling in there and if he can peppering it with little kisses or maybe even nips.

Thranduil

✧ Teases the dickens out of you for the way you seek out his touch, practically purring into kisses and running your hands over his shoulders.

✧ Only to turn around and run his nails down your spine as your lips meet again and again…

✧ Upon shared meals, sometimes he will feed you things by hand, hoping you will be unafraid to let him feel you taking it from him.

✧ Much as you love surprising him with kisses, Thranduil hopes you enjoy the deeper feeling of your tongues entwined as much as he does. He is unafraid to use his tongue really practically anywhere you’ll let him.

✧ Trails kisses along your collarbones when you sit in his lap, often upon his throne.

Bard

✧ Laketown's bowman is opening himself to affection again, and receiving it is aiding in that pursuit, reminding him to give in to the desire to show it.

✧ Snaking a hand around your waist, he tugs you against his chest, smiling at the fall of your hand upon him.

✧ His eyelids flutter involuntarily shut at the feeling of your hand dragging slowly down his chest or along the length of his spine.

✧ You can feel his lips part in pure shock the first time your tongue travels along their entrance, but with great haste you are let in.

✧ Even if he is not always forthcoming with it, Bard longs for the comfort of another body nearly as much as you do. As he falls asleep, you can feel him relax, his head buried between your neck and shoulder as one hand travels up and down.

Beorn

✧ He definitely isn’t used to physical affection, starting or even glaring in surprise at first, but when he realizes your love is true, that is when you begin to feel the way Beorn melts into your touch, something different glinting in his brown eyes.

✧ His favorite form of affection is, quite simply, holding you against his chest, height allowing him to rest his head atop yours. From there, Beorn can hardly resist the way you lean up to press kisses to his neck.

✧ You tend to initiate many of your shared kisses, but Beorn inadvertently deepens them with his habit of nipping at your lips. He apologizes, but you assure him he has nothing to worry about.

✧ Finding out you love to cuddle means you’ll hardly find yourself sleeping without Beorn’s form draped protectively over you. Whether he soothes you or claims you entirely depends upon the night.

✧ Beorn’s bear-like tendencies come out in his affection sometimes, the way he rubs his head or sides against yours.

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