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thefangirlfever · 1 month

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MIGUEL O'HARA x reader (18+, smut) MDNI

firefighter AU🧑‍🚒🔥🚒

Art credit: @kit-and-wolfe on Tumblr

Summary: You and Miguel are dating and he had hidden from you that he took part to a fireman’s calendar.

Notes: Just a silly idea I got from seeing multiple great firefighter Aus and a conversation with I had with @lazyjellyfish300 about Miguel! firefighter getting flustered. This story is a direct continuation of this post.

Tags: smut, F/M, AU, Firefighter AU, cunnilingus, PIV penetration, established relationship, fingering, no plot just smut, horny FMC, dirty talk (may be cringe), mention of masturbation (F/M), aftercare, breast and nipple play, hint at size kink, discussion around contraception

Word count: 3858 words

April was now your favorite month of the year. Most people would think that it was because you were excited about the upcoming Spring, the Sun in the sky and all those things, or maybe it was your birthday’s month. But you were unfortunately more pragmatic.

No, it was simply that the picture on your calendar for this month was to die for. Lying on glazed paper, in A4 format, a hand on his hip and his helmet on the other a tall, stupidly handsome man was looking at the camera with a bedroom look in his eyes. Firefighters have never been your thing, and you even considered it weird that a whole profession could be fetishized in a way or another but...that was different. You had to admit that you kind of see the appeal of it now. Honestly, this man could be anything else than a firefighter and you would probably still get the hots while looking at his picture.

Abs for days, rock hard chest with the right amount of thick, curly black hair that lazily trailed down toward a mouth-watering happy trail (that could only let you presume of a thick, happy bush), the infamous V-line that made his hips dip sensually under oily skin… Well, they really went all out with this picture. It was probably a bit edited but still...They even left his five o’clock shadow and the scar on his left arm. Good. Very good. That’s some professional job, you could tell.

You could have spend hours looking at this picture and still find new details about it. In fact the idea was very tempting, hence why your calendar was still stuck on the month of April despite being already mid-August. The calendar was pinned on your fridge and you could look at it every time you would cook or eat, which was exactly what you were doing right now. Well, at least you were trying because as soon as you would try to bring your fork to your mouth, your eyes would land again on the perfect picture.

The fact that you knew the model didn’t help at all your trouble.

You had met Miguel a few months ago through joined acquaintances and you didn’t even know he was a firefighter at the time. He would rarely speak about his job, not even to complain about it. And certainly not to brag. You quickly realized that he was quite secretive and shy when it came to his private life. It was very rare, almost impossible to hear him brag and he didn’t really take compliments very well. No idea where this insecurity could come from. He was quite a catch honestly, not even speaking physically. Miguel was overall someone nice and caring, as if his job didn’t already convey this trait of his personality enough. Maybe that’s why the two of you got along very well. When he was devoted to the well-being of most people and selfless, you were selfish, pragmatic and even a bit bitter. He was the type of person who would wake up at 4 in the morning to help the others and you were the type of person who after waking up at 10 am would shamelessly ogle the picture of a half-naked man, wondering about the size of his…

Your phone softly buzzed, taking you out your daydream. As soon as Miguel’s name appeared on the screen, you came back to your senses and picked up the phone.

“Hi…”

“Were you still sleeping?”, he asked with an amused voice. While most people would find you lazy, Miguel had simply accepted that your lifestyle was not his and that you were more of a night owl. This doesn’t mean that he wouldn’t tease you from time to time about it.

You rubbed your hand over your tired eyes and groaned into the phone:

“No...I was...eating...is there a problem?”

“You left your sweater in my car yesterday. I thought I could come give it back to you after training.”

Your brain took a few seconds to understand his words but when it did, your eyes opened wide and you jumped to your feet, scurrying toward the front door.

“You’re already here?”

“Well, I was in the neighborhood and I thought I could stop by. I also brought breakfast since I thought you would have just waken up…”

He sounded almost apologetic as if he had dragged you of bed. Your heart stammered into your chest and a stupid grin curled up your lips. Sweet, selfless Miguel. How did he manage to always make your cold demeanor crumble? That was a mystery to you.

You opened the door and there, stood Miguel, a large bag of edibles in his arm, your sweater perfectly folded in a small bag while he was still holding his phone. And as if the sight of him wasn’t sweet enough already, he was still wearing his athleisure clothes, ie a tank top and loose grey shorts. His skin was covered in a thin sheet of sweat and his brown locks were stuck to his temples and the back of his neck. A treat for the eyes.

The moment he saw you in your sleepwear, he turned off his phone and a small blush crept up his face. You were only wearing a short and a tank top but he didn’t mind. That was...quite a nice view.

“Well, you are definitely awake.”, he joked quietly as you made sign for him to enter the apartment. “I was afraid that I would wake you up.”

You could definitely wake me up anytime you want.

“No, don’t worry, it’s fine.” You grabbed the bag he was handing you with your sweater inside. It was neatly folded, even better than what you would usually do to your clothes. You might as well invite him over to share breakfast with you. Miguel gladly accepted and followed you to the kitchen and as much as he tried to be a gentleman his eyes would always end up following the sway of your hips and the very appealing bounce of your butt. He started to feel a bit tight in his shorts and this feeling only increased when he noticed that you weren’t wearing a bra under your top. He cleared his throat, trying to chase those thoughts away; it was too early in the morning for this.

“I found this small french bakery down the block and I thought you would like to try these…”, he said while putting down the bag on the central island of the kitchen. The buzzing sound of the coffee machine filled the air just when you replied to him:

“Oh yeah, I actually wanted to try this one. Thanks.”

And now your nipples were pointing under the shirt.

Great.

This definitely didn’t help the situation down his pants and he wisely chose to advert his gaze...only to fall on the dreaded picture he hoped you would never hear about. A rush of color filled up his cheeks and he was practically sure he wasn’t half-hard or hard at all anymore. What was this thing doing here?

You turned around to put his mug of coffee down the counter and that’s when you noticed where his eyes were. Not on you, unfortunately, but on the calendar.

Shit!

You didn’t even bother to put it on the right month. Hopefully Miguel would take it as it is, a compliment. But the moment you saw his brows furrow and his jaw tighten, you had a serious doubt.

“Hum...Miguel?”

He didn’t respond at first and when he looked back in your direction, he still seemed very ashamed, almost mortified. A pink hue was covering his cheeks and the back of his ears. Seems like you were going to have a lot of fun...

“Yes?”

You let the silence last a bit more before replying: “Is there a problem?”

“No. No...why would there be any problem?”

“Because you’re all red in the face suddenly. I was wondering if something was making you feel uncomfortable…”, you asked innocently. At this point of your relationship, he should know better. He should know what this coy tone meant but he still fell in the trap: “It’s just… Where did you even get this calendar?”

“Does it bother you?”

“No...it’s just...a bit tacky. I didn’t think you would like something like this…”, he replied in a sheepish voice. If you knew any better than this, that man was flustered.

“It’s practical.”, you simply reply with a shrug of your shoulders, dismissing the embarrassment in his voice. Miguel awkwardly chuckled: “Then why is it stuck on April?”

“Touché.”, you replied with a sly grin. You then took a sip of your coffee and his eyes wouldn’t leave the shape of your lips molding against the edge of the cup or the way your eyes still looked at him under your lashes, as if you were a cat playing with a mouse. All this little game was making him feel hot under the collar and he nervously ran his hand through his hair.

“Maybe...I just like the picture.”, his eyes were trying to avoid your gaze but they would eventually flutter back to the alluring shape of your silhouette. “Maybe...this is just making me feel curious.”

He didn’t need to ask about what it made you feel curious. Your tone was already giving him enough hints and he could only sheepishly chuckle, almost giggling while the red in his cheeks intensified. “You can’t be serious…”

“What if I am?”

Your blunt answer took him by surprise and you took this short moment to move a bit closer to him but still keeping your hands to yourself, even if the urge to rest them against his body was becoming stronger by the minute.

You had just been thinking about this these last weeks. Ever since you brought that calendar back home, all you could think about was the moment you would get to lay on top of him, run your hands down his abdomen, unto some more exciting territory, crossing every single line. The image of his body would haunt you during your alone time, making you wish it was his hands bending you, making you scream and turning you into some drained but satisfied mush.

His breath faltered when your fingers hovered above the soft cotton of his sweater. The fabric clung to his body, drawing out the shape and relief of his build silhouette, all in sharp angles and dips like some statue.

“Maybe I want to see a bit more..."

Your fingers trailed down his torso, from his chest to his abdomen and you could feel the way his heartbeat quickened as well as the way his body tensed and arched into your touch, yielding against your fingers. The hard contour of his silhouette was being traced, made more noticeable for your eyes and your eyes only. Your hungry gaze made him feel wanted in a way he didn’t know was possible; a special talent of yours. Standing there, still covered in sweat and fresh out of his training, he couldn’t believe you still wanted him. And yet…

“You want to see more?”, he asked under his breath and with a quick nod from you, he took your hands guided them over his body.

Your fingers soon slipped under the fabric of his tank top and you rose on your tip toes in an attempt to kiss him. Given the height difference between you, he quickly opted for the easiest solution. His arms scooped you up and placed your body on top of the counter, shortening the distance between you. Wrapping your legs around his waist, you didn’t waste a single second to pull him closer to you but you still managed to surprise him. He was not expecting for your lips to aim for his shoulder rather than his mouth and with a low groan, he welcomed the caress of your lips onto his skin as you traced your way up his neck.

The pressure of his fingers grew tighter on your sides as this make-out session turned steamier. Your nipping on his neck made him react almost immediately. His fingers slid down lower on your body and soon gave your ass a firm squeeze. He needed to get you out of these shorts and quickly. Your soft whimper onto his neck told him he was doing everything right and his hands kept kneading your soft rear while your own diligent hands removed his top, leaving your eyes free to feast on the sight of his after-work body. Every word you uttered seemed to get straight to his cock as he felt it practically twitch every time you would breathe a bit harder on his skin or tell him how nice he felt, how gorgeous he was.

“Lay down...just...get on your back…”, his breath was a bit more labored as he helped you lying down the counter. You were pinned under him when his hands finally lifted up your top, exposing your perky breasts. He had spent so much time fantasizing about them, this morning only they had been on his mind almost all-workout. Last night during your date, he couldn’t get his eyes out of them as soon as you would look away and they had been tempting too much since he entered your apartment. The perky mounds stuck out, resting on your chest like a crown, the tanned lines from your bikini making them stand out even more proudly. After a few seconds spent admiring them, he dipped his head onto the soft cleavage presented to him, not doing anything else than resting his face there at first.

Your hands stroked his hair, pulling him closer into your embrace and you began grinding your hips onto his aching cock. The shape of his erection was visible under the grey fabric as it strained against it, begging for release. He would wait. He always waited. There was no need to rush with someone like you. Even when he was alone, he would always take his time fantasizing about the endless possibilities of your body rather than bringing himself to climax quickly. There was no such thing as a quickie with him and today was no exception. He will focus on every single part of your body, take his time to taste it, to enjoy it to the fullest...no matter if it made his dick throb and swell with more and more arousal. No matter if he would end up practically whimpering while getting his face stuck in your pussy later.

Miguel nuzzled his face further onto your breasts. His face was smothered between your breasts, his lips occasionally licking and sucking on their plump flesh. Low growls would escape his lips every time his lips circled around one of your perky nipples, sucking in deeply, swirling his tongue around the rigid nub and the puffy areola. His hands were holding your waist where the hem of your pants slopped down, exposing your waist.

“Eres tan deliciosa...can’t wait to get more of you...”

His nose trails down the line of your abdomen, running over smooth skin while his thumbs rub in circle the skin over your sides. He tugged at the hem of your shorts with his teeth, silently pleading to get more of you.

“May I?” You groaned a small “yes” and he finally pulled down your shorts. When he nuzzled his nose onto your panties, pressing it right where your slit would be, your hips bucked. He giggled at your eager response.

“Sorry about that.”, you quickly apologized but he dismissed the said apology with a caress of his hand on your thigh, soothing your worry.

“There’s no need to worry.” He then pressed a soft kiss under your belly button and hummed, his breath warm on your skin: “You’re such a needy little thing sometimes.”

“I’m not needy.”, you replied with a growing blush.

“Mhh...who’s been keeping a calendar of half-naked men in her kitchen again?” His brow cocked in a teasing manner as he trailed a line of warm kisses all the day down to your entrance. Your breath hitched and you arched your back in response to his teasing:

“Are you going to remind me of this for a long time?”

“Yes.”

His hooked finger pushed your panties aside and he basked in the musky scent of your arousal, watching how your pubes glistened with arousal.

“Someone feeling jealous over there?”, you teased him which only earned you a chuckle.

“I have no reason to be jealous…”, his hands slipped under your butt and he lifted up a bit your body until your legs were wrapped around his neck, “...and I’m going to show you why.”

His lips dived into your parted legs, his mouth molding to the shape of your vulva as he suckled in deeply. Your essence spurted into his mouth, making you writhe slightly. His nose rubbed onto your clit while he swirled his tongue deeper between your slick folds. His cock was aching down his sweatpants, burning to be free and soon replacing his tongue.

As he kept lapping and sucking on your cunt, he slowly edged you until you couldn’t hold it anymore. The sound of you moaning and cooing his name was the sweetest reward he could get for his hard work; until you came undone. He could feel how close he was too to just climax, here and there on the spot. The sight of you, spread on the counter with your clothes ruffled and your puffy clit, throbbing and begging for more.

“Feeling good, mama?”, he softly asked while placing a soft peck on your thigh.

“Bedroom now.” Your enthusiasm made him giggle again and he kept placing soft pecks all over your face and shoulders while carrying you to the bedroom. Your eager hands slipped under the hem of his sweatpants and tried to grab a hold of his butt. As much as you liked this calendar, it was a shame it didn’t pay proper homage to the glorious work of art this man’s buttocks were.

Miguel finally let you go down the bed and slipped out of his sweatpants. He was rummaging through the nightstand, looking for the pack of condoms you always kept there.

You watched in awe as he tore open a condom and swiftly lowered his boxers. His cock sprung free, the tip almost slapping his lower belly as some precum already dripped from the swollen tip. His fingers quickly put on the condom and when he caught your gaze on him, he stopped, a sheepish smile on his lips: “Everything alright?”

“That was just the sexiest thing I’ve ever see you doing.” A sympathetic look took over his features as he crawled on top of you, peppering your face with soft kisses. It was probably the first time you’ve had a boyfriend who didn’t reluctantly put on a condom and who accepted that you just couldn’t put an IUD or take the pill. This was as refreshing as it was sexy and the delicate attention always made you feel grateful, no matter how much Miguel would tell you that it was nothing.

“How do you want to do this?”, he asked with his lips still pressed on your temple.

“I want to see you.” Your response seemed to please him a lot because he quickly obliged and soon you found yourself attached to one another, with his arms pinning you onto the bed while he kept moving back and forth between your warm walls. Every move he made was followed by a deep, throaty grunt on his side.

“Feeling good, sweetheart?”

You could only moan back at his question, wrapping yourself tightly around him as he was thrusting deeper into you. The heat between your two bodies was becoming unbearable as time went on and it only became stronger when he slipped his hand down your stomach and began toying with your clit.

“Gonna cum for me, okay sweetie? I want to make you feel so good…” The slight desperation in his tone didn’t go unnoticed on your side. He wanted nothing more but for you to remember this moment every time you would look at his picture. He wanted you to be as whipped for him as he was for you, completely and utterly transfixed.

“Miguel…” He knew what it meant when you cried out his name like that. It meant you were close and he made his mission to guide you through it with his fingers rubbing circles faster on your already sensitive and swollen clit.

“That’s it baby...just like that…”

Your body tensed and your grip on him tightened as he felt you reaching your climax. His praise didn’t stop soon and he kept placing soft pecks all over your face, especially around your furrowed brows, one thing he found adorable in these moments.

It took the two of your some time to calm down after this moment. Miguel had brought you back a towel from the bathroom to clean yourself and two glasses of water. It was a bit hot since it was the middle of the summer and he knew too well the risks of dehydration. However this didn’t stop him from cuddling with you, his arms tightly wrapped around your body, one hand tracing the curve of your hips, following the slope of it like a traveler climbing up a mountain. His eyes marveled at your body in silence, looking at the way the sweat had coated your skin. When he kissed the sensitive spot of skin behind your ear and playfully nuzzled his face into it, you squirmed a bit. But it was not enough to escape his grip and you just managed to rub yourself even more against him:

“Miguel...it’s already too hot. And I’m gross like that.”

Your words could have as well be heard by a deaf because he didn’t stop his kissing. In fact he even nuzzles his face lower on your body, his nose following the curve of your clavicle while he mumbled:

“You’re not gross. You’re perfect like that…”

You were glad he didn’t catch the blush that was blooming on your cheeks: “It’s still too hot for that…” But your protest wasn’t very convincing and none of you moved a single inch. It would soon be too hot to go out or even do anything at this point and your body succumbed to the promise of a lazy, indolent afternoon, resting in the arms of your lover.

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Notes: Thanks for reading this story! I hope you liked it. it's been a while since I've written smutty one-shot so I needed some time to get back on track. Hope it doesn't feel too awkward.

🌻🌻🌻

My masterlist

#atsv miguel #spiderman 2099 #miguel o'hara #fanfic #miguel x reader #spiderverse #across the spiderverse #miguel 2099 #miguel smut #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara au

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ebi-noodle-doodles · 2 months

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Ok so I just found your blog and am in love with your art style and ofc your fat mikus! I just have a quick question--have any tips for drawing fat characters? I keep trying to, but every time it just looks so wierd. And I end up giving up. But I want to diversify sizes on my ocs! But anything that isn't the "standard" (aka what you see everywhere) size keeps looking off.

So any tips?

-@zakai-doodles

I can't fully say I'm an expert on the field since I'm still learning myself :D but here are the tips I can give on how I draw them

Notes: �� Pear Shape-Star Shape/Teardrop shape • Give lines some weight- It emphasizes the softness of the character's body • ARMS- at first I didnt draw them plumpy, i got a comment saying the arms were thin so keep in mind. Fat gets distributed in the body, could be more on the belly or breasts or legs •BREASTS/CHEST- Gaining fat means gaining chests, but I don't think thats thats the case every time. While I see a lot of chubby characters being portrayed with heavy sets of jugs, based on my observation its not always the case and really just gives this idk weird portrayal of bodies that chubbs=big chests....hence the PEAR shape. •OBSERVATION and REFERENCING- This is the MOST IMPORTANT one. While I got used to drawing them without looking up references, it is important to work closer and learn more by observing side by side references to understand how body fat works. I think my works are still flat, having a reference gives you an idea how to approach on drawing it. •FACES/HEAD- I think I didnt change anything much with how I usually draw them. In my case I really like drawing them very cutesy like. The proportion of the face is smaller compared to the head giving an impression of (?) chubby face (dont know if I worded that correctly). •LINES- I tend to avoid sharp lines on chubby characters. I always try to make them look soft. •WEIRD TIP: How I actually learned is that I realize its like I'm drawing chibi characters but making them full(?). I realized that drawing chibi is somewhat similar to drawing chubby

#ebi noodle doodles #my art #fanart #art #xixiriima #reply #reply art #anon #ask #anon ask #reply ask #ask reply #tips #art tips #chubby miku #chubby miku replies #miku related tag #miku related post #miku related

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ereardon · 6 months

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The Backup || Jake Seresin x Reader [teaser]

“That can’t happen again.”

“It will.”

You sighed loudly, flinging yourself backward onto the mound of pillows, knowing that he was right. Jake rolled off the bed, tugging on his boxers.

He grinned. “Any more bad dates planned for this week?”

“A blind date on Friday,” you replied, rolling onto your side to face him as Jake got dressed. “Someone that a secretary from my work knows.”

“A blind date, really?”

Ignoring his comment, you replied, “What about you?”

“No plans.”

“Which means that you’ll have a date lined up by Thursday.”

“And it’ll be a flop and we’ll be right back here on Friday night.”

“I’m serious Jake, this can’t keep happening.” You stepped out of bed, slipping on a silk robe and tying it tightly around your middle. “We can’t be each other’s fallback every time a date goes sideways.”

“So end it,” he said. “You’re the one that called me tonight, remember?”

“I’m weak,” you replied and Jake chuckled.

“You’re a lot of things, sweetheart, but weak isn’t one of them. Except when it comes to those mall pretzels.”

“Well those are objectively the best.”

“True.”

You watched as Jake finished getting dressed, tying his shoelaces, slipping on his jacket. “Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“Are we fucking each other up by doing this? Like are we the reason that every single date goes bad? Because I feel like lately they all end up sucking.”

“The dates are bad because our options are bad,” Jake replied. “We’re not cursed, Stinky. That’s just how these things go. You date and date and just when you think you want to fling yourself over the Golden Gate you find one person who suddenly makes things work. And then you live your weird Hallmark lives together forever.”

“You, Jake Seresin, believe that?” You raised your eyebrows. “What happened to the guy I met three years ago who didn’t realize that girls don’t want to come over to your fucking Tenderloin apartment and see a bed without a bed frame?”

“I loved that apartment and it was dirt cheap,” Jake argued. “Besides, you’re not much better. Remember when you thought guys actually liked girls who wore Birkenstocks?”

“They’re comfortable!”

“You looked like you were going to yell at me for not using a reusable jar to grind my own peanut butter at Whole Foods for twenty dollars an ounce. It was heinous. Also they smelled like ass.” Hence, the nickname that you hoped would die but never did.

“You’re just saying that because your type is girls who stomp around in size five Aquazzura heels on Market Street and have their daddy’s Amex card numbers memorized.”

“Better than your type. Mr. Couch potato, looks practically homeless and asks you to split the check at dinner because he’s too cheap to pay for your baked potato.”

“That happened twice, that’s not a pattern.”

“More than once is concerning.”

You rolled your eyes. “You’re lucky you’re good in bed because I can’t fucking stand you.”

“Stop stroking my ego.”

“Goodnight, Seresin,” you said, walking toward the kitchen, your back to him. “Slam the door on your face on your way out, won’t you?”

“Night Stinky,” he said and you could hear his footsteps trailing down the hallway. “See you next weekend!”

You grabbed a half-empty bottle of Sauvignon Blanc from the fridge door and slammed it, a little too hard, the sound of bottles inside rattling as you unscrewed the cap and chugged directly from the bottle. It was acidic, probably too old, but it would do the trick. Anything to block out Jake’s words that haunted the quiet air of your apartment even after he was gone.

He was right. Somehow the two of you always fell into bed together. The dates always went belly up. Hinge, Raya, Bumble, League. No app worked. No blind set up. It was like clockwork: you’d spend an hour getting ready for a date, and within five minutes you’d know that at the end you’d call an Uber to take you to Jake’s. Or vice versa: he’d show up at your door with a pocketful of condoms and a smirk. It always ended the same way. For almost a year, you and Jake had been filling the gaps of your dating life with each other. Friends with benefits. No strings.

And, of course, you made a point to keep it from the friend group. Coyote would throw an absolute fit if he found out.

[Note: Special shoutout to @clancycucumber230 for the idea!]

#jake hangman fic #top gun fanfiction #jake seresin #top gun imagine #jake hangman x you #jake seresin au #jake hangman imagine #hangman fanfiction #jake seresin x y/n #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x reader #jake hangman x reader #hangman x you #hangman x reader #top gun x you #top gun x reader

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gabessquishytum · 3 months

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Hob buys a crown that he found in a thrift shop - it's a little tarnished, but under the dust and general grime, it's beautiful.

It's a masculine crown, Hob thinks, because there aren't a lot of stones (and of the jewels there, people must have thought that they were costume, based on their size, hence why it was at a thrift store and not Sotheby's) and the black metal shot through with gold doesn't feel like something a woman might wear.

The crown seems to call to Hob and no one who isn't Hob who holds the crown is impressed by it at all. It's as if all its magnificence is hidden from everyone but Hob. So he cleans it carefully when he gets it home, and when he's done.....he waits until he has a long weekend from classes (he couldn't wait until there was a longer break, he justcouldn't) and puts the crown on.

It fits like it was made for him.

And when he opens eyes that he didn’t realize he closed, the world around him is different......and he's in a beautiful throne room.

And sitting at the top of a set of long steps on the throne is what can only be the king.

I feel like the first rule of "weird objects you find in thrift shops that also might be cursed" is like. Don't Wear Them and/or Ingest Them. But Hob clearly didn't get the memo, so never mind!

Dream (who is, of course, the King) peers down at the human man who's just appeared in his throne room. It's very odd because a) Dream is cursed to be alone in here and b) the man appears to be wearing his crown. He also doesn't seem to have a clue where he is, so he's obviously not a mage. Very strange indeed. Dream hasn't had any company for a few thousand years at this point, so he's inclined to be interested and not to just kill the man. Yet.

Hob, meanwhile, is just trying to get his bearings. He takes in the magnificent throne, the stately arches and the stained glass windows. It all seems pretty real, but also... perfect. Like it's been created in someone's mind and then perfectly translated into reality. It's beautiful. The King is even more beautiful. And he looks at Hob like he's a very interesting kind of feign beetle that just crawled across the carpet.

Hob squares his shoulders, takes a deep breath, and takes the crown off his head. "I think this might be yours?" He ventures, holding it out in his hands. The King blinks, considers, and crooks his finger for Hob to come forward.

The thing is, the crown isn't Dream’s. It's meant to be for his future spouse - the spouse who is supposed to come and rescue him from this curse. And Dream can't help but wonder how a very ordinary man (who trips on the steps up to the throne) is going to manage that?

At this point - he's only too willing to find out.

#the sandman #dreamling

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munsster · 1 year

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hi! could u please do smut on billy hargrove where the reader and him are very close friends and she wants him to take her virginity please 🥰🫣

nightingale

A/N: sometimes all u need is a very attractive close friend to take your virginity (gif cred: @julie-thefatones) IT ENDS SO CHEESY. DONT BOTHER ME

Pairing: Billy Hargrove x Fem!Reader

Summary: Billy can’t resist when you beg him to take your virginity. 2.5k words.

Warnings: smut, mdni, 18+, billy hargrove, mild slut shaming, virginity/loss of virginity, possessiveness/jealousy, pet names (doll, babydoll), cursing, sex talk!teasing, fingers in mouths, gagging, discussion of his penis

In all honesty, Billy didn't think you were a virgin. He wouldn't have bet a cent on it. Not that he thought you were a slut or especially promiscuous or anything like that. He just figured you'd done it before. You're self-assured as Hell, and that's typically not a characteristic of someone who's never fucked or been fucked. At least, not in his experience. And Lord knows he's got plenty of it. So, in all honesty, when you beg him to take your virginity, it comes as a surprise.

"I'm sorry—what?"

So much of a surprise that it rouses a hearty laugh from the thick of his chest. It doesn't register that that 'please' was as genuine and whiny as a bitch in heat. It doesn't register that you've got your palms wrapped around his wrists and that you frown at his patronizing sense of humor.

"Well, if you don't want to, I'll find someone else to do it."

"No," and that contemptuous laughter stops hard in its tracks, "Never said I wouldn't do it." Because—and he'd die before admitting it, but—the thought of your legs wrapped around someone else's waist, your nails raking down someone else's back makes him physically ill. You're his girl. Have been since the day you pitched a dead-on fastball to the Hawkins dunk tank target just to see him flounder into the shallow pool.

Billy crosses his arms over his chest, still trying to swallow the fact that he would be the first one to ever lay hands on you like that and to that degree. He sizes you up with those steely blues just to make you feel small. But it doesn't work; it never works on you. Hence the whole virgin debacle. It's gotta be celibacy, right? There's no way you've never done it. Sure, you're a pain in the ass, but who doesn't love a good lookin' challenge?

Your eyes light up, and you're back to bouncing onto the balls of your feet—"So you'll do it? You'll fuck me?"

"Jesus Christ, sounds so vulgar comin' outta your mouth."

"Yeah, yeah, but you'll do it, right?"

"Sure, yeah, whatever. I'll do it."

"'Whatever.' You can say no—"

"Yeah, and I suggest you zip it before I leave you to some pervert with sweaty hands and a fuckin' combover," he grumbles, and you know he's joking, but you also know Billy's mean enough to mean it. You stick your tongue out at him and grin when he copies you and all is right with the world. Except for the fact that you're walking around with your virginity in tact.

"So what, you want me to take you out to dinner first or somethin'?

"Nah, nah, just... yunno... the dirty work—"

He shakes his head. "Alright—"

"Lay it on me, Billy, gimme that weak-in-the-knees treatment—"

"You're so fuckin' weird."

"I can't hear you, Billy Hargrove's gonna pop my cherry—"

"Gross." He shoves his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket, scraping his boots along the concrete towards his car, ignoring the annoyed looks from a what looks like a group of sophomore girls.

"Wait—!" You jog a few feet in front of him and stop him before he can reach for the shiny silver door handle. His cold eyes swoop across your cheek with a determined flicker in them that contests your own. "Gonna ask me when I'm free?"

He scoffs. "When are you free?"

"I dunno—"

"I don't think I've ever worked this hard for a piece of ass—"

"Shh! Just... would you play along? We're literally discussing the well-being of my sex life here," you jab, dramatic as ever leaning back against his car door with your arms crossed and your brows raised.

"Fine," he huffs, "How 'bout I swing by around... seven? The sun'll be set, and—"

"That sounds perfect. I'll see you at eight!"

You flit away with a grin, seemingly satisfied to have secured one more part of your future. Meanwhile, Billy's ducking into his car, flipping his zippo open-shut-open-shut compulsively to distract himself. Heart racing a mile a minute like he's the one with the pretty laugh and the soft hands and the virginity. How the Hell are you still a virgin?

Billy sat outside your house in his Camaro for half an hour, too stressed to smoke but too eager to go back home and take it out on some dumbbells. By the time he makes it to your front door, he's dripping sweat like he's fresh off the racetrack, and you ask him if he's okay like you care. Like he's here for anything more than a quick fuck.

He waits in his boxers for you to change in the bathroom, standing at the end of your bed and glancing over all of your posters. And the unlit candle on your desk. And the stacks of books in the corner. The trinkets and jewelry and stuffed animals and personality. The sun sinks lower and lower until the room is dark blue, the only source of indoor light a small, warm bulb plugged into the wall socket.

You come up behind him and scare him half to death with a cold hand on his shoulder. Only cold because he's overheating because he's in your bedroom because he's about to do the thing he's drooled and schemed over since the first time he saw you in a bikini.

"Don't go tellin' people about this, alright? Could be bad for business."

"Okay."

You're standing in front of him, batting your eyelashes in the dark, settling into the floor wearing little to nothing. Just a thin white bra and old panties. And for the first time, you seem small. Like you're trying to shrink in on yourself. And his nerves dissipate just enough for him to smirk to himself. He never thought he'd be able to make you nervous. That's one less bullet on his bucket list.

He can see your catty eyes flicking across the bare expanse of his chest like a bowl of warm milk. Like you'd dip your tongue in and lap at his ivory surface until the dish was clean. For the first time, he feels exposed. And he thinks he'd like to get used to it.

He also never thought your silence would fill him with such unease. You shift weight from right to left slowly, breathing deep and chewing the inside of your cheek. And your entire body goes stiff when he shuffles closer in the darkness.

"Feelin' okay?"

You nod.

"Hmm. One to ten?" he murmurs.

You mull it over and blow a puff of hot air up against your forehead.

"Considering I'm about to have mind-blowing sex, I feel like I should be at a ten."

He cocks a brow. "But?"

"But..."—you wring your palms, nervously feeling over the tendons and knuckles, like you're gauging their existence one more time—"I'm really fuckin' nervous," you huff.

He remembers that feeling. Not because he felt it at the same moment or for the same reason, but because it's the exact way you feel at the crest of a rollercoaster just before you plummet. The weightlessness of your stomach, the way your brain sort of short-circuits regardless of how great it is to fall. It's easy to forget the drop was the whole reason you got in line in the first place.

"No need to be nervous, babydoll. I'll be nice. Won't even bite," he says with a taunting shrug, "Unless you ask me to."

You cast your eyes down and drop your arms to your sides. He tilts his head, desperate for you to look back at him, for you to devour him with a look like that's all he's good for.

"What now?"

You take a deep breath.

"Thing is... I think I'd be okay if you weren't so nice this time around. If that makes sense," you sigh, shoulders slumping just a little further, "Just... treat me like one of your other hookups, you know? I mean, I'm not askin' to be slapped around or anything, but I'm not exactly made of glass."

Billy chuckles and his heart is beating so fast and all he can grumble out is: "I can work with that."

You beam up at him, catching the spark of the nightlight and reaching for his hand. It gives you a golden halo and sheds soft amber across the angles of his face. The slop of his nose and the tops of his cheeks a burnt yellow.

"Ready?" he hums.

You nod. "'M ready."

He dips down with all the sweet intentions in the world, only for you to tilt away. His lips meet your cheek, and even then, you feel the curve of a grin. He presses another to your temple, and you weave your fingers through the wild locks at the back of his head.

His nose nudges the soft shell of your ear as he whispers, "Still want me to take your virginity?"

You nod and he pulls away, curling his fingers into the back of your neck like a mother to its disobedient kitten. You coo and rest both hands on his chest, blinking hard when he grits his teeth into a smile.

"Say it."

"I—Billy," you say, shivering when his pinky brushes along the top of your spine.

"C'mon, don't go all quiet on me now. We're just gettin' started."

"Billy, please, I want—"

"Ah-ah."

"I need—I need you to fuck me, Billy, please take my virginity."

"That's my girl."

My girl, my girl, that's my girl. Billy. It’s only a whisper but it sends you both reeling; only his reeling is gritted teeth and yours is fluttering lashes. Sweet versus sour with his hand patting your hip and your fingertips ghosting over his skin.

"Knees."

"Billy—?"

"On your knees. Won't ask again."

"But I've never—"

"Shh, I know, just... trust me," he whispers. And as you lower to the floor, he realizes it's more than he's asked of anyone. It's more than anyone's offered. He's been violent and unkind—untrustworthy. And that kind of reputation makes people like you untrusting. Except, not people like you. Just people. Not you.

Admiration and lovesickness clouds the logical part of his brain, and in a panic, he slots his fingertips between your soft lips. You hold his wrist when he leers down at you like a cat. He coos softly above you when your tongue wets the pads of his fingers without a word more. If only your mouth was the problem. If only shutting you up would release your talons from his heart. No, you're locked in and you don't even know it yet.

"Billy," you cry, peeling his spit-slick fingers from your mouth and wiping at your cheek when you gag. He's ill over you, filled with thick and sugary warmth, forgetting how hard he is and how close your mouth is to his thighs.

"Sorry. 'M sorry, come to the bed." His thumb swipes across your jaw when you stand and settle into your mattress. Oh, and the way the moonlight washes over you is sinful. The way you're so close to being two bodies in baby blue. Instead of you and Billy and your virginity, you'll be together and defiled. Debauched and unwound.

You can't understand his sudden tenderness when he pushes the crotch of your panties aside and palms at himself. Why he leans down to nip at the soft and wet of your labia. Then glances up at you like heaven.

He rears back when you squeal, shocked at your awkwardness and sensitivity in his hands. And before that, it had felt natural. Like he had wanted to and was urged to. But you'd been none the wiser. And now you're tensing up at his touch simply because he couldn't keep his teeth to himself.

"Feelin' shy?" he says.

You let out a harsh breath that might've been a laugh if you hadn't gripped his shoulder and cooed. "Quit bein' mean, Billy. Skip to the good part."

He chortles and shakes his head, rubbing his thumb around your clit while shuffling out of his boxers.

"The good part, huh?" he huffs. He'd crack another joke if he could—if he wasn't distracted by the desire glistening over his fingers and your supple inner thighs. Wet and tempting especially because it's you.

He feels bad when you hiss but can't help himself from nudging deeper and closer in your tight warmth. You whine and whine about how thick and full and good it feels, and each little mewl beckons him closer until he's pressed to your chest, mindlessly drooling down your neck. If you'd let him, he'd lay this close for hours. With your hand on his neck and holding his waist while he drives his hips against yours.

The way you whisper his name against his ear makes him shudder, drill into you deeper, roll his hips wider. He'd foam at the mouth if it weren't for his ideals. Though, now, even those were slipping from him by the minute.

Love had never crossed his mind before. Maybe if his mother wasn't such a distant memory, it'd be a more prominent factor in his life. Maybe if he had someone to look after. Someone to look after him. Love was never a question of choice before, but now, while you're holding him in your careful arms and peppering kisses like freckles to his cheeks, maybe it could be. He could choose to stay this close forever and promise to be yours. His hard won reputation disintegrates when you lay your fingertips on him.

It all starts to feel a little raw. A little hotter and wetter and harder. Soft collisions turn to thuds, snaps, jolts. To keep him grounded in his ways, to keep him keen and wild. Your mouth hangs open at his cheek, your arms draped over his shoulders. You lie limp in his taut arms like he'll take care of you. Like he has any semblance of bedside manners. The rawness turns to tenderness, and you whine about the searing pain with a hand in his wet curls.

"Burns a little, Billy," you chirp, tilting your head back with a gritted smile.

"Drippin' down my leg, babydoll. Just a little longer," he grumbles. You nod. His back curls almost unnaturally. Animalistic and seemingly impervious, he cracks his hips against yours until the wet slapping fills the room and your headboard threatens to snap from the foundation. Your back arches, and you yelp when he slaps your thigh and groans in your ear.

"Atta girl," he sighs, pulling away and giving a few solid thrusts, as a makeshift goodbye kiss. Still licking his lips, but this time with the marks to show for it. He wears the hot pink from your nails down his back like armor, slowly pulling his soft cock from your cunt and rucking his boxers up to his hips.

"Jesus Christ," you huff, throwing your arms above your head. "You're fucking insane."

"And you're fucking tight. Poor guy's gonna need a couple'a days to recover."

"Oh, boohoo."

Billy slips back into his shirt and winks, "Don't worry, babydoll, he'll be ready for round two in no time.”

"Fuck you."

"Just did."

masterlist

#stranger things #x reader #stranger things x y/n #stranger things x reader #x fem!reader #billy hargrove #billy hargrove x fem!reader #billy hargrove smut #stranger things smut #billy hargrove x f!reader #x f!reader #stranger things x fem!reader #billy hargrove fic #billy hargrove x you #billy hargrove x reader #18+#mdni

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sseastar · 9 months

Text

✶ dream lover; kim seungmin.

info. seungmin x afab!reader. slight angst, fluff. brother’s best friend to ??? au. 1.6k words. warnings. mentions of food, reader eats fish and meat. listen to. 爽風 by tomofumi tanizawa.

[✧] — Seungmin could say he knew a lot about you.

He knew how you always closed your door to your room because you didn’t want it to smell like food in case someone cooked. He knew how you could never bring yourself to watch full k-dramas and opted to watch clips of them on your for you page. Seungmin knew of your love for mint-chocolate (the two of you really bonded over that) and how Star Wars Rebels became your comfort show after you had watched all three seasons during quarantine.

Hell, Seungmin even knew so many personal things about you, especially after having witnessed you grow up alongside your brother Jisung. Although you were two years younger, he still felt like he knew you well enough to call you his friend if it weren’t for his title of ‘brother’s best friend.’ Seungmin knew your shoe size, who your first dance was, even when you got your first period (he was the one to have noticed the small stain on the back of your jeans and the one to rush into his sister’s bathroom to grab you a pad the one time you had come with Jisung to his home).

And yet in the eleven years he had known you, Seungmin would have never painted you as a hopeless romantic. As far as he could tell, you never seemed the type to save your receipts in a box under your bed, never seemed the type to make playlists for your crushes with vague names so people couldn’t guess who they were for. Not once had Jisung mentioned a thing about his little sister having a crush on someone, nor had an overprotective Jisung ever mentioned his concern for you when you went out with friends (Jisung was an awfully protective brother, so Seungmin could imagine how his friend would react were you to ever go out on a date).

Hence, Kim Seungmin had come to the conclusion that you were genuinely not interested in dating at this time in your life. Nothing he found weird, of course. He knew how serious you were about your studies - there were many times that Seungmin and his friends had invited you along with Jisung to join in on their plans to get boba or go bowling on a Friday, but you would politely decline with a smile and mention some assignment or project you wanted to get a head start on.

So imagine his surprise when he found you out on your backyard’s porch one night when he, Felix, and Hyunjin were over, curled up with a knitted sweater and volume six of Kimi Ni Todoke in your hands. Jisung had asked him to come get you before you all headed out for dinner.

It was such an odd sight to see. The mug half filled with lukewarm green tea on the table next to you, the abandoned pair of fluffy bear slippers under the bench, the throw blanket that he swore hung on the arm of the couch in the family room when he first arrived. Your fingertips were gently covering your lips, an enchanted look in your eyes as if you had just witnessed such a heart-fluttering scene.

Seungmin thought it was such an odd sight to see. You had never once initiated a hug with him no matter how happy or ecstatic you were (even when you had gone to a baseball game with your family and invited him, and you had thrown your arms around your brother when your favorite player hit a grand slam…then opted to high five him excitedly). He was so used to your annoyed sighs whenever you saw any form of PDA, or your pursed lips whenever your brother would somehow connect his girlfriend to the topic of conversation, that he couldn't even fathom why you were out there reading a shoujo manga of all things despite the entirely possible reason that you just wanted to.

Yet Seungmin’s eyes softened as he watched you from the door frame, waiting until you finally realized his presence. When he realized you wouldn’t be getting your nose out of the story any time soon, he cleared his throat, smiling at you when you looked up at him with wide eyes.

“Hey,” you mouthed, for some reason unable to let anything audible out of your mouth.

Despite your lack of an actual greeting, Seungmin answered back “hey,” watching as you marked your page with a photostrip of you, Jisung, and him that he remembers taking in the rusty old photo booth at the pier the last time you three went. Another thing Seungmin was surprised at – he always thought you were the type to dog ear your page or use a sticky note to mark your spot. “We’re heading out in a couple of minutes for dinner. Jimmie’s,” he clarifies, mentioning that the four of them would be heading to the diner they frequented and ordered to-go for you from. “Want the usual?”

A tuna sandwich with a side of french fries and a small vanilla milkshake. That was your usual.

Your usual was staying at home to read or to get a head start on work you had to do. Your usual was catching up on sleep or accompanying your parents to the supermarket when you really did have nothing to do. And when those things didn’t need to be done, your usual would be spending time rearranging or redecorating your room, or reading romance novels, manga, and stories you find on the internet to replace your lack thereof in your own life.

Your usual was hoping that one day you would be loved, or even secretly loved - that someday, all your ideal date ideas would no longer be locked up in the diary you kept hidden in your sock drawer. Your usual was hoping that your firsts wouldn’t have to wait until after college - that someone would love you enough so that you no longer sighed at the cute couples you would see on dates when you were out with your parents.

Your usual was speaking only briefly to Seungmin in hopes that all the feelings you had for your older brother’s best friend would die down by itself. Your usual was silently hoping that those feelings would be returned. Your usual was making up scenarios that maybe one day, you would stop trying to find someone exactly like him.

Your usual was getting boring. Your usual was getting you nowhere you wanted to be.

Seungmin watched as you swung the blanket off your lap, folding it roughly in your arms as you slipped your sock clad feet back into your slippers. “If it’s okay, can I come with you guys tonight?”

Seungmin watched as you slid into the seat across from him. You usually opted to sit next to your brother on the end to avoid being in the way of any conversations, but you sat right in the middle of Felix and Hyunjin tonight. Seungmin watched as you excitedly answered Hyunjin’s questions about how your research has been and as you thoughtfully told Felix about your input on his new baking idea. Seungmin didn’t miss the warm smile on Jisung’s face when he realized how you were getting along with his friends (maybe he didn’t show it often, but your brother was often concerned for you - you never seemed to enjoy hanging out with people you knew, after all, and Jisung would hate for you to regret not allowing yourself to be more carefree in college).

Seungmin watched as you agreed to go to his baseball game even when your brother couldn’t go and as you shyly laughed at the look of surprise on his face. Seungmin watched as you picked up the menu despite him knowing you already knew exactly what you wanted to eat.

Seungmin could say he knew a lot about you.

He knew what your topic for your required research project was. He knew you couldn’t stand leaving your major even after you cried through the required classes that had nothing to do with your concentration. He knew that you always liked to eat the first slice of a peach and that you hated peeling tangerines. He knew how you couldn’t answer ‘what’s your favorite color?’ with a single-worded answer. He knew that you never put your left shoe on before your right and that you always muttered “keys, phone, wallet” every time you left your house.

Seungmin could say he knew a lot about you, but he was missing some of the most important things.

Seungmin didn’t know how you felt after you passed those classes you hated, or why you had so many unique habits when eating fruits. He didn’t know why you sighed when you saw a couple your age on a date the night you tagged along with your brother and his friends to the boardwalk. Seungmin sure as hell didn’t know why you decided to come with them tonight, but it was nice to see you interacting with everyone.

You smiled briefly when his eyes landed on yours, averting your gaze before he could even attempt to read what emotion was swirling through them. But Seungmin could tell that what swam through them was something more than what you wanted to let on. It was something you’d always held back so that you wouldn’t allow yourself to be vulnerable (you had done that enough). But your eyes weren’t enough to conceal it – what you felt was far too powerful for you to hide and parts of you began to filter into the room of people that loved having you around. Seungmin could tell something was there, but he would wait for you to embrace all that you were. He’d already waited this long after all.

So for now, Seungmin watched as you ordered a cheeseburger with a side of garlic fries and a Sprite.

⌕. author’s note ; something i most definitely wrote on a whim. the style is a little different from how i usually write and i like it a little more, but it was ngl extremely hard to do. haven’t posted much about seungmin in a while despite him being my ult, but i’m glad to be back hehe.

⌕. taglist ; @enhacolor @soobin-chois @koishua @chrysbibi

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eattherichplease · 1 year

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This is one of the many things I love about the Addams Family, and the main thing that resonates with so many people I think, including me.

Here we have Uncle Fester in season 2 talking about his (departed) brother Clump, that has never been mentioned before. And everybody is listening attentively and with great interest... Because they don't know the story and they probably didn't know about Clump either!

Not so many episodes ago, someone asked Uncle Fester what was his surname anyway... He confessed he didn't know. Uncle Fester doesn't know his surname!

This happens again and again! And not only with Fester. Everybody's placement on the family tree is dubious.

I realize this is made for comedic effect, but the implications are beautiful.

"But how can that possibly be?", you ask. "Hadn't it been established that Fester was Morticia's uncle?"

Well yes and no! You see, it changes from episode to episode.

Because it doesn't really matter!

The "Family" in "Addams Family" doesn't have the usual meaning. Family means "people we love and have history with". Hence the myriad of cousins and uncles of different races, nationalities or even species, all wildly different.

Blood relation is completely irrelevant in the Addams Family. The Addams Family is a found family, an assortment of weirdos drawn together by their shared interests, pathos and aesthetic sensibilities.

It is impossible to drawn an accurate Addams Family Tree. This is by design! It doesn't' matter! And it shouldn't matter!

The Addams family is, deliberately, and inversion of the nuclear family, an antithesis. It's horizontal, democratic, without hierarchies, it's open, it has no definite borders, the relations among members are fluid, and the glue that holds it all together is love not blood.

There are hybrids and monsters in the family, people from different races and sizes and colors - Morticia is coded Jewish, Gómez is canonically "Castillian" (read Spanish/Latino), Itt is Itt, etc, etc -It is all a huge metaphor! The Addams family is hybrid, international, interracial, immigrant, queer, weird and proud of it... in the US of the 1960's!

And it should be even more now!

This is why it is so shocking that there are no canonically queer characters in Wednesday (2022)! It makes no damn sense!

(Yes, I know, Eugene's moms -background characters irrelevant to the plot, an afterthought to fill a quota...)

It says a lot about how conservative/evangelical American TV has become over the last few years.

Netflix, you cowards!

Make the Addams Family queer and weird!

#the addams family #wednesday #wednesday netflix #uncle fester #queer representation #found family #someone put neil gaiman in the writing room #queerbaiting

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witchthewriter · 1 year

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𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐈 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐚 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐰𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐢𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐚𝐯𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐚 𝐫𝐨𝐜𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐲

⤷ gender neutral, ambiguous race, and any size reader. Requests are open, thank you for reading!

a/n: you can take the relationship with the characters as romantic or platonic - completely up to you. Also I feel like this is a neurodivergent thing, where we pick something that looks shiny, cute or weird and gift it to someone we love. It’s the neurotypicals that usually think it’s weird...

ᴹᵃˢᵗᵉʳˡᶤˢᵗ

𝑺𝑭𝑾🌿

𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐲 (1000% neurodivergent. Most likely has AuDHD)

・Running to Lucy to told her to shut her eyes and hold our her hands

・Would undoubtedly take the rock excitedly

・Actually would be out in the woods looking at pretty rocks with you in the first place

“Ooh this one actually shines in the light!” She says as she holds it up to the sun. Without realising, she had found a citrine gemstone.

・There are many different rocks in Narnia, and because of the magic, there’s no ... logic, to what can be found

・It makes humans very interested

・Both of you returning back to the castle covered in dirt but with sacks full of rocks (Peter says you can only choose your favourite 3 and the rest have to be left outside)

・Is definitely a hobby for you and Lucy

・It’s what you bonded over in the beginning of your friendship

・Has a collection in her room that she’s specifically told the servants not to get rid of (because the majority of the collection are just plain rocks)

・Would have a smooth stone that she keeps in her pocket to rub - as a form of stimming

𝐄𝐝𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐝 (Is neurodivergent, but has masked for so long that he doesn’t know how to unmask)

・Is used to Lucy giving him trinkets, ribbons, rocks, shells etc when they were young

・So when you present him the rock that “reminded you of him,” he blushes a little and thanks you

・He absolutely loves when people tell him “oh this made me think of you,” and it’s a positive thing ??? It blows his mind

・Edmund has no judgement. He just thinks it’s normal. Unlike some people who think it’s just plain weird (idk why they think it’s weird. It’s so human to want to collect things.)

・Edmund actually has a momento of each place that he’s visited. Both in Narnia and the human world.

・At home he has snow globes, pins, train tickets, pens, pamphlets, etc in his room, to remind him of all the places his been. And that war won’t be forever. That the world has a lot to offer.

・However, Edmund can agree that the collectible items are much better in Narnia

・Everything feels alive with magic, especially when Aslan is near

𝐒𝐮𝐬𝐚𝐧 (I’m actually thinking a lil neurodivergent. Maybe even autistic??)

・Like Edmund, she’s used to when Lucy would bring her random objects

・Hence why you found it so easy to give her things you thought were cool

・This was a common occurance, and it was nearly a daily routine for Susan to empty out her pockets of a night and see random objects

・Sometimes when she’s too focused on something, you’ll just slip the things into her pockets; notes, reminders, things she’s forgotten to take with her, silly little presents etc.

・She always knows it’s you

・Not in a weird way - but she can smell you, so she isn’t startled by your presence ... like ever

・So when you gave her the rock, a glinting piece of labradorite, she held it up to the light and moved it about. Making it flash here and there.

・She was very impressed

“This will go great with the collection!”

𝐏𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 (is definitely neurotypical. One of the judgy ones as well, until you - who opens his mind.)

・The least ... chill about it.

・Thinks collecting things is a waste of time unless they serve a purpose

・Has made you angry a few times because of it

・Lucy had to tell him to be nicer because the way he was going about it ... god he was being so headstrong

・So now he goes about it a lot more gently (because he’s gotten to know you better as well. You’re an important person in his life and he doesn’t want to upset you)

・So when you show him, he nods his head and does a weird, “oh thanks,” with furrowed brows.

・He doesn’t understand that it’s a token of your love/feelings toward him

・Not until you scrunch your face up and explain that to him

・And then he’s like, “oh wow. Okay then, I love it! Thank you - please give it to me,” and he’s chasing you around the room.

𝐂𝐚𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐚𝐧 (Not neurodivergent but loves people who are different and think out of the box)

・You had found him in the training yard, sweaty and out of breath

・Although in an established relationship, you still take the time to explain why you do certain things and what certain things mean to you, why you do certain things etc.

・Even if the word neurodivergent doesn’t exist yet, the people do. And are known as the poets, writers, creators, the intelligent, the weird, the hermits.

・And Caspian has always had an open-mind. No matter what, he’s always gone into things thinking about different points of view

・So a lot of things happened naturally with Caspian. And explaining yourself was easy because he understood a lot of your concepts

・When you gave him the rock, you were incredibly nervous but still desperate to show Caspian because it was a part of your background - collecting things, and you wanted to share that with him

・In all truthfulness, Caspian was expecting something much weirder to happen by the way you were acting

・But when you gave him the rock, his response gave you butterflies

“Thank you, my love, I will cherish it always.”

・And he stayed true to his promise

・Somehow he got a blacksmith to turn it into a ring and he wore it always

𝐄𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐞 (I reckon he’s autistic tbh, so neurodivergent 10/10)

・Being amongst the Narnian people was like nothing you could have ever imagined

・But what goes significantly unnoticed is the landscape and what would be normal in our world is 10x more magical in Narnia

・So you and Eustace have absolute field days just spending hours looking through this new world

・When you stumble across this particular rock, it takes your breath away and you instantly have to show Eustace

・Getting his attention was a bit difficult though but once you had it, he was very excited

・When you place it in his hands, he examines it, to see if it’s a geode or something that can be cracked open

・His mind is an endless pit of scientific facts

・But you didn’t give it to him for scientific purposes

・You gave Eustace the stone because ... well it represented something

・Where Eustace is facts, you’re fiction - a poet, at times

・And you wanted him to know how unyielding your feelings for him are

・However, Eustace did crack it open. Even after your pleads not to, yet his suspicions were right. Because inside it was a glimmering mass of shimmering rock pieces

𝐀𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐧 (understands the way of the world and how people’s minds work so he is neither neurotypical or neurodivergent - he just ... is). Also like, you can see Aslan in a romantic way if you want, but I’m kinda writing him as this father figure

・You didn’t mean to interrupt the meeting but you were too excited to wait to show Aslan the cool rock you’d found

・It was jagged but had reflective, almost glittering elements when you moved it around

・It looked ... magical

・And you wanted to ask if it might be

・So when you ran into the map room, where Aslan and a few other guards were, you enthusiastically brandished it in front of him

“Look! Look what I found! For you-”

・Very gracious

・Thanked you immediately while the others around you look at you like you’re crazy

・If anyone says anything mean about you, he will call them out

・You think he just forgets about them but he actually keeps everything you give him

・He can tell exactly where you got the rock from; which woods, lake or ocean. He’s so intune with Narnia that every little thing is easy for him to identify

・Encourages you to find more

・And gives you tips on the best places to find more cool things

𝐌𝐫 𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐧𝐮𝐬 (Yes, neurodivergent. Kinda goblin brained, but likes his alone time and collecting of things)

・It was a bit of a down day and you could see his frown. Wanting to brighten his day you went on a stroll, trying to find a pretty flower or a nice bunch of herbs

・But you couldn’t find either of those things

・Instead, you came across a tree stump with such smooth round rocks at the base.

・They looked so ... satisfying

・A perfect egg-shaped stone, close to one you’d seen Lucy playing with from time to time

・Running back home, you called out for Tumnus, and as he stood in front of you, you told him to hold out his hands

“Hmm...,” he said with a suspicious look, but obeyed.

・When you put it in his hands he blushed immediately. Knowing that you know how much he loves knick knacks and collecting objects... it made his day a lot better

・I feel like this could be a Narnian custom in a way. Like...to show your affection for the one you love, you go out in nature and find something that reminds you of them???

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