#something in the brain chemistry today. i need to be in the arms of an old man drinking something fruity. neow

[afieldinengland]

.

#🤒🤒🤒🤒🤒 #something in the brain chemistry today. i need to be in the arms of an old man drinking something fruity. neow #person to blame: the weather #🗣

[hotchfiles]

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ ❝ [COME UNBOUND HERE] ❞ — NSFW ; MDNI!

pairing: hotch x fem!bau!reader. summary: “completely self-reliant, you really don’t need me at all, do you?” in which hotch gets completely pussy whipped after seeing you taking down an unsub. content warnings: making out, foul language, sex, unprotected p in v with no mentions of birth control (no breeding kink just lazy writing), sub!hotch if you squint, switch!reader, nipple play, scratching, lip biting, THEY FUCK ALRIGHT. MDNI, this is a 18+ fic. word count: 1.7k a/n: requested by @mischiefmoons and her godsent filthy mind. i donnnt prooof read shiiiit.

      Aaron wasn’t one to admit to having a type, sure, he knows it’s human nature to look for similar traits when choosing partners throughout life, but he was a romantic at heart  (and a sweet talker at that!), he secretly enjoyed keeping the magic of just love alive, and more than that, he simply adored the way you would roll your eyes and laugh cruelly at him, your palm hitting his arm in a light slap each time he told you his type is you. 

      Truthfully though, most of that was all talk from his sweet soft spot for you, everyone knew exactly his type. 

      He couldn’t help but fall for confidence, every time someone confident and beautiful laughed at his terribly dry jokes he would feel his lungs tighten up, that was definitely one of the first things that made him so drawn to you, the fact you were so funny and incredibly gorgeous resulting in his everlasting love and downright depraved lust for you. 

      Today though, Aaron found out another trait of his ideal type: Could easily overpower an unsub before himself could even get to his ankle holster for his gun, before he could even try to protect you. 

      Your competence was never a question, an SSA like the rest of the team, twice a year having no problem at all in your evaluations. But you were a liaison, you stayed put unless extremely necessary to have the whole team out, your experience level wasn’t the same. 

      He did all he could to have your back, even before you started sharing hotel room beds, but hearing the man in front of him whine in pain after you twisted his arm, the sound of at least one of his fingers cracking at your strength as you pushed him to the floor… You definitely didn’t need him to have your back, you did it yourself pretty well. 

      He’s surely proud, but what floods his mind really, what is now burnt to his brain, what has probably changed his whole body chemistry at this point is the way your body moved to do it, your pants clinging more to your thighs, your breasts moving with your fast heart rate, your open cleavage blouse doing nothing to help his train of thought, nor did the hint of a grin in your lips as the unsub succumbed to your grip, complaining about the pain you were so easily causing. 

      Focus on the job, focus on the case, he tried hard to while he passed his handcuffs to you, but fuck, how could he when you looked so unbelievably sexy doing something he has seen so many people do before?

      How many times has he licked his lips in the past 20 minutes? He has lost count, but it's the only way he has to ignore the way his mouth is drying at how aroused he was about to be if he didn’t control himself. If he didn’t focus on anything else. 

      A few meditating breaths and unpleasant thoughts did the work for him, getting his priority back on track: The case was still going as far as he was concerned. It wasn’t done until the BAU got back to the hotel. 

      His avoidance to you at the precinct, not even catching him glancing as you worked didn’t strike you as odd, you were used to him needing his space and completely unaware of his conscious effort not to think of you. 

      It’s a happy surprise when you hear his well known knock on your door not even half an hour after arriving at the hotel, his lips gluing to yours immediately, his hands strong in their hold of your face as he kicks the door closed.

      You grin into the kiss, not at all opposed to how famished he seems for you, even though you don’t understand where it came from you more than willingly follow his lead, reaching for his waist under his clothing. The cold of your fingers causes him to whine and you can’t help but take advantage of that to sink your teeth to his lower lip just the way you knew he liked it. 

      Aaron guides you to the bed, but unlike many times before where he would lay you down, his weight deliciously on top of you, he sits on the edge, the back of his knees touching the mattress, shoes kicked off just before. He pulls you to straddle him, his lips only leaving yours to touch the skin you had exposed: Your neck, your cleavage. His hands making sure to sink you harsher on this lap anytime you stopped moving against him even if for a second, his fingers sinking on the flash of your waist. 

      You have to ask, you have to know what’s gotten into him (so you might do it more in the future) and he stops his actions to stare at you, eyes dazed with lust, lips swollen from the way your mouth worked his, cheeks flushed pink like it always got when he was hot.

      “Do you not have any idea of how… Alluring you looked today doing all that?” He’s breathless as he speaks, his tongue is back to your neck before you can reply or tease his choice of words. Your head falls lightly behind as you try to contain at least some of your whimpers. Hotch does no such effort, lucky his mouth is busy as you wet both of your pants with arousal, the feeling of his cock swelling up under you as addictive as ever. 

      You pull him closer by his tie, your mouth brushing against his ear before you spoke just so you could feel the way your warm breath made him shiver. 

      “All that what?” He doesn’t respond, busy taking your blouse along with your bra off, his sheer force able to break off the clasp without much effort. You force your body onto him, half for the so needed friction your nipples begged for, but mostly to get him to lay down on the bed. “All that what?” You repeat yourself, needing to hear him say it. Your hands strongly keeping his on your waist and not an inch up. The sight of your bare tits alone enough to make him try to get more friction from you, unconsciously rutting up. 

      “Confidently taking a man down with your bare hands, maybe?” Aaron’s reply pleases you and you let go of his hands, helping him take his dress shirt, his tie and the annoying white tank top keeping you away from scratching his stomach, “Completely self-reliant, you really don’t need me at all, do you?” He says teasingly just as you gasp to the touch of his calloused fingers to your nipples, working both at the same time. 

      You could honestly come just from that (and you have before, noticing how sensitive your nipples are has been a gift to him that kept on giving), but you wanted more. You palm him through his slacks, wet from his precum and your own fluids. “Wouldn’t say that, I do need you to help me with these,” you point to the bothersome remnants of clothes in the way and he has the audacity to chuckle, as if he wasn’t as desperate as you. “Because as soon as we are free of them, I can ride you the way you’re just begging me to.” Aaron can’t keep his groans contained, your crude words going straight to his dick in a way only you were able to. It was a mess of fingers unbuttoning, unzipping and hands quickly working to get rid of the slacks and underwear restricting you both. 

      He helps lining his cock to your entrance, but not before teasing pressing his tip to your clit, causing you both to moan, you’re as wet as you always are for him, sinking him into you all at once and the whimper leaving Aaron’s mouth is just sinful, completely at your mercy. 

      You set the pace and he lets you, one hand on your thigh, the other gripping one of your tits in a way he would leave not just marks, but a whole handprint. You loved it, your nails giving his chest crescent moon shaped marks and scratches all around his torso. 

      “Aaron–ple–put your fingers to work.” You skip the begging, the please, knowing that’s not what he wants today, you’re busy moaning his name as your pace goes to a faster rhythm to say much else, but he obeys, deliciously using one of his thumbs to draw circles over your clit, following your lead, moaning as you clenched around his cock, your wetness loud against his finger and his pelvis. 

      You were about to come, the imminence of your orgasm making your toes curl, “Fuck me, Aaron, hard… And fast.” You manage to say, not wanting to slow down and knowing you wouldn’t be able to keep up. 

      It’s like he’s been waiting for it, for your orders, and he turns you around, his weight over you as he follows your words. Hard and fast. His own pleasure building up as you helped him prop one of your legs up on his shoulder, you felt like you were melting under him, going between grabbing the sheets and his flesh as you squirmed for him. 

      The noises are relentless at this point, and if the walls of the hotel are cheap everyone will be able to hear his name leaving your lips like a prayer, his whimpers getting stuck in his throat and the skin to skin slapping as Aaron brought you both to orgasm, his cum going inside of you without a question, his forehead touching yours as he drops your leg and fucks deep and slow into you a few more times so you both enjoy the climax as long as possible. 

      “Fuck, I definitely need you for these as well.” Your tone is full of tease, referring to the orgasms he gave you seemingly effortlessly. 

      Aaron hums, his eyes already closed the minute his body reaches the bed, pulling you to his chest. “Then, I shall pretend you like me for more than my body and sleep here tonight.” He’s joking and would sleep cuddling you either way, so you don’t bother replying. 

      But god, you love him. You love him. 

#lari writes sometimes #aaron hotch x reader #aaron hotch x you #aaron hotch imagine #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner imagine #criminal minds x reader #hotch x reader #hotch x you #hotch imagine #hotch scenario #aaron hotchner smut #hotch smut

[samuel-de-champagne-problems]

Grad school Spencer in his little white coat and glasses getting his chem PhD and he just spills everything and goes 🫠 because he sees English lit major reader walking by from the lap window.

because I will die on the hill that this actually happened.

hiiiii 💕

like 23 year old phd candidate spencer in his white lab coat is everything to me and i took some liberties so bear with me :)

spencer reid x female reader

So he’s working in his lab doing something sciencey and smart

He’s already a phd in math and engineering which makes him something a myth in his departments

Part of his program makes him work as a TA for a chemistry course which is how he meets you

You’re a Literature major and Sociology minor and in his Chemistry class. It’s filled with many students, but Spencer wouldn’t need an eidetic memory to remember you

He never found the courage to talk to you, thinking that you’ve probably already have a boyfriend on a count for how pretty and smart you are.

Every Tuesday and Thursday he sees you walk by his lab. He forces himself to not recognize the pattern, but it’s impossible when you’re so magnetic to look at and think about and patterns are so recognizable to his brain. And out of risk of you thinking he’s a stalker, he decides it’s safer if he ignores you walk by

What Spencer doesn’t realize is that you’ve also noticed his pattern of being in the lab the same days you’re in the Sociology wing.

One day he’s busy his lab, and he can see you through the big picture window. He feels his hands grip the beaker and his grateful that the chemical liquids he’s working with today are something as simple as water

As he gazes through the big window he watches you walk with a big stack books in you arms

He walks to the sink, needing an extra 30mLs of water in his beaker, but as his does he accidentally trips over a stool and crashes to the floor

He jumps up, and sees you look at him in horror. Which wasn’t the way he planned on you looking at him (he forced the thoughts of the various ways you could look at him from his mind)

Suddenly you rush into the lab and just as Spencer tries to stammer about maintaining proper hygiene protocols in the lab, your hands are gripping his wrist

“You’re bleeding” you say, and Spencer watches as you maintain steady, tight pressure on his open wound to stop the bleeding

“I didn’t realize” Spencer says with a stained smile. He’s planned on how he’d approach you over and over again in his mind ever since he saw you in the Chemistry class he TA’ed last semester “I was preoccupied”

“It’s alright, Doctor Reid. You’re not going to need stitches or anything. But let me put some bandaging on it.”

Spencer gulps, as he tries to remember how to breathe. All he can focus on is how your hair frames your face perfectly and how your perfume smells like earl grey tea and honey and apples

“You can call me Spencer, Y/N” He whispers, listening to as you practically drag him by the wrist to the first aid kit

“You know my name?” You ask, a look or wonder and amusement washes over your face

Spencer jerks his head back not in pain nor in discomfort, but rather in confusion. “Of course I do, why wouldn’t I know your name. You’re Y/N.”

You lick your bottom lip as a small smile plays on the corner of your mouth. “there were a lot of students in your class last semester. I’m not very good at chemistry. Nor do I have a particularly memorable face.”

Spencer raised his eyebrows in disbelief. You gently placed a bandage on his cut. “You did very well in the class. And as for your face, it’s very memorable. More than memorable, honestly. It’s gorgeous—oh, no I didn’t—I don’t intend to be forward…”

“I think you got a memorable face too, Doc” You say, smiling as you sit knee to knee on the lab stools

“It’s Spencer,” He says, blushing as he nudged his hand forward to just barely touch yours

You stand, smiling as you do so, “Doc suits you. You’re kinda a legend and you’re really cute when you flush like that when I call you Doc”

#this is me rambling #asks #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds #spencer reid x you #spencer reid fluff

[brewed-pangolin]

I'm sorry if I got you sick, I promise it ends at some point (maybe, probably).

For your brain chemistry pleasure, Captain Soap Mactavish would 100% act all stoic and emotionless most of the time.

But imagine the times when that shell breaks.

You two curled up in bed, you ranting about something mundane. Except it's a full body, "let me flail to show you just how annoyed I am" rant. He finds it endearing, cracks a small smile and cuddles you closer.

(And the "ITS NOT CUTE, IM BEING SERIOUS JONATHON")

I'm not gonna lie, I had a bit of fun with this one. Had to add a dash of brat taming at the end because it just felt right.

Hope you like it 💛

You had hit your wits end the moment your body sank into the bed.

Every stress, every snarky comment, every disgruntled maneuver that was thrown at you came bubbling up to the surface as the soft cushion of your mattress molded to your frame.

Leaning back into the array of pillows set around you and the strong arm of your John draped over your torso, you let loose. Released the levee of a pent-up rant as he laid silent and stoic as ever at your side.

"Today was awful, John. Just awful. The second I walked into the office, my boss was already breathing down my neck. Pressuring me with his usual bullshit, reminding me of the deadline like I can't see the calendar hanging behind my desk, and constantly interrupting my progress like he's got nothing better to do.."

You paused. Taking a much needed deep breath in a desperate attempt to calm your nerves.

John's arms tighten ever so slightly around your waist, and he leans in further, yet you pay no mind to his glacial encroachment.

The sudden air flow only fueled the fire of irritation as the demon inside took over once more and continued on with your raging tirade. Arms flailing, accentuating every syllable as your expression grew steadily more cantankerous.

"Then, when I was at the store, I asked an attendant where the baking section was because they clearly renovated and moved every aisle around. To which this disrespectful little twat waffle told me 'open my eyes and read the signs' like I'm some illiterate moron.."

Another breath. Stoke the embers. And release the demonic presence of aggravation within until fully cleansed.

John's eyes lit up at your relentless attack on the events of the day. A smile curling into the corners of his lips, running his fingers along the curve of your hip that you completely ignored as you continued with your verbal and seething regurgitation.

"And to top it all off, while on my way home, I got cut off by an absolute monstrosity of a truck that was clearly driven by a man making up for something. Nice truck, sorry about your dick and you drive like an ignoramus kind of man. And.."

You halted. Voice catching the cage of your throat as his hand gripped into the flesh of your hip.

Your eyes cast down to meet his bright and albeit boyish gaze as he stared up with endearing contentment.

"John. What are you doing?" You ask. Irritated bite to your bellowing bark.

"Ye so cute when ya let loose, m'lass. Cannae help but admire ya."

His soothing timbre at complete odds with the emotional blaze rippling off your tongue. Which only furthered your enraged fire, feeling is ripple beneath your skin and culminate within the depths of your lungs.

"I'm serious, John. Why are you being so obtuse. I'm-"

"Obtuse?" He interjects. Faltering your angered resolve with a single word.

His authoritative persona extinguishing the blaze within as he pulls you down into the bed, tearing an exasperated gasp from your chest as hemoves to cage you underneath his hulking frame.

"Perhaps yer in need of a little attitude adjustment, yeah? Need ta release tha' pent up demon a'yers in a different way, hm?"

"John, I-"

"Nah, m'lass. Not John-"

His rumbling voice traveled like a tremor through the thick density of your bones. And his eyes pierced your soul to easily pull back the rigid curtain of your fiery will.

"I'm yer Captain fer tonight. An' I'm gonnae tame tha' fiery beast a'yers. Understood?"

You nod in response. Finding comfort in his command underneath him as he tore your aggression away with every steely nuance to his words.

"Need ya t'say it, m'lass." He advised sternly. Settling himself between your legs, pulling the faintest whimper from between your lips.

"Yes, sir."

"Good. Now let yer Captain take care a'ya."

And thus began the taming of your fiery attitude that ended with a broken headboard and an overly satiated mouthy beast.

Captain MacTavish Masterlist

#super soap sunday #soap squad™️ #asked and answered #the brainrot of Captain MacTavish #cuddles to brat taming #this man can do it all #captain mactavish #captain soap mactavish #og soap #mw2 soap #captain mactavish x you #captain mactavish x reader #og soap x you #og soap x reader #cod fanfic #cod soap fanfic #call of duty #cod #macravishedbymactavish

[hey-august]

👉👈

Can I please request fem Buggy brain rot... The crop top post altered my brain chemistry just a bit. You're so wonderful. 🧡

-rory

@rorywritesjunk this was all I could think about while running errands today. 🫠🫠

This was a lovely little warm-up before getting back to the fic for tomorrow, which is starting to heat up as well. 🤭

WC: ~300 Warnings: NSFW, mdni, fem!buggy x GN!reader, not an established relationship, buggy has a crush, female masturbation

Fem Buggy fully embraces the small top, big bottom outfit aesthetic. Airy pants are easy to move in. Plus she notices how your eyes linger, admiring how the fabric drapes over her plump ass. She wonders if you realize that some days the only thing between your burning gaze and her bare skin is the one layer of clothing.

As for small tops, they’re comfy and cute. A t-shirt is easy to throw on, even when Buggy’s not in the mood to wear a bra. It’s not an uncommon sight on the ship, but you still blush whenever you notice the peaks from her hidden piercings.

You’d blush even harder if you knew the real reason she doesn’t always wear a bra. Then again, you must have an idea. Buggy’s not subtle about finding any reason to press against you. They’re not just congratulatory hugs from your captain. She’s not just being friendly and familiar when she leans over you to grab something. When you two walk together, she’ll link arms and cling to you until your arm is wedged between her tits.

As much as she loves the attention you send her way when she’s not paying attention, she also finds it incredibly frustrating. Buggy creates a wonderful and awful loop that repeats as long as she’ll let it. Her outfit draws you in and she draws you close to her body. The contact is exciting and her body reacts immediately. Her heart beats faster, her hands are sweaty, perky nipples beg for your attention.

It becomes too much and it’s not long before Buggy excuses herself. She needs alone time. A few minutes with her fingers digging into her dripping cunt are all she needs before her legs are quivering and she’s panting your name. Once that’s taken care of, it’s time to head back out and restart that loop. Surely it’ll have a different outcome someday.

#fem!buggy #fem!buggy x reader #buggy smut #buggy x reader #buggy the clown x reader #buggy x you #x reader #buggy op #opla buggy #one piece buggy #buggy the clown

[bubuslutty]

MIKE WITH A PISS KINK PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE

tbh I've never really wrote for piss kink before the other post. but I'm exploring and dipping my toes very slowly into stuff (am I being slow? idk? anyway. who fucking cares.)

Mike is a nasty little freak and nobody can convince me otherwise. he likes having some power over at least certain aspects of his life, he likes being in control of things he chooses to control. not like paying the bills and going to work. cuz he has to? to live?

but he can have control over his gf. her body. her bladder. Just because he can.

so when he first was plagued with the image of his gf just pissing on him, his brain chemistry changed and he kind of wanted to make it a reality, trying without freaking his gf out and also without really telling her.

maybe it was him convincing her to let him fuck her when he knew she drank a bit too much water today and felt like going on the middle of him fucking her. maybe he'll let her go, maybe not, maybe he'll ask her to hold it in until he's done, she can wait, right? She can do it, she's a big girl <3

and maybe he'll hold onto her waist, dig his fingers super close to her belly button, press down a bit where her bladder should be in guise of him just holding her up, but really, he just loves her little squeals of panic and flinches, and not once does she tells him to stop, just whines and whines and moans while getting rocked on his cock.

And as soon as he's done and at this point, his baby is shaking and overwhelmed, he'll help her to the toilet, and help her sit and relieve herself while she's still. panting. and he's there, standing over her with a hand on her shoulder, so she wouldn't somehow slip and fall?

he's just a good bf after all, he has to make sure his gf is safe and taken care of <3

and then obviously Mike will take care of her, hop in the shower, wash her body for her and all, dress her up in some comfy clothes and lounge in their bed together <3

perhaps this keeps happening for a long time, his gf needs to go, but he needs her more than she needs to go, and how can she say no to those eyes??? and the cycle repeats until she realises that maybe he really, really, want her to let go.

So it happens then, for the first time, while in the shower, because its the perfect place to make a mess, and it starts off pretty innocent, just showering in silence, together, then washing each other's hair, giggling and slowly getting touchy until her back is to the wall and he's moaning in her neck with the sound of his hips snapping against hers echo in the shower.

And she doesn't tell him she needs to go, she just holds him tighter, wraps her arms around his neck and presses herself closer, he moans, and then he feels something, he's confused at first, terrified that he somehow hurt her because why the fuck is something hot dripping down her thighs, and when the smell hits his nose he absolutely loses it.

"Hah- Had to go, hm? Couldn't hold it in? Hm, baby? Fucked you so good you just-- Pissed yourself? Fuuuuuuuuuccckkk... Yeah. Yeah, you're mine. And I'm yours, yeah?"

his eyes almost roll to the back of his headand his rythm stutters and he snaps them harder, tries to get himself deeper, closer, all the while making the most debauched and pathetic noises he's ever made, he's so unbelievably horny he cums in no time.

and from that day on, everything changes.

#bubuslutty ask #bubuslutty writes #mike schimdt x reader #mike schimdt smut #mike scmidt fnaf #mike schmidt smut #mike schmidt #mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n #mike schmidt x fem!reader smut #mike schmidt x fem!reader

[seradyn]

I Won’t Let Go

Ruben x Reader fluff

Helping Ruben cope with a seizure, giving him lots of cuddles and comfort afterwards.

For my dear @broteinshake69 , based on this post.

Word Count: 3611

^ I am incapable of writing short one-shots :)

TW: None

I am not a neuroscientist, nor have I ever had a seizure, so I hope you can excuse the pseudoscience and inaccurate depiction x)

Les go

———————————————————————

A soft, familiar squelch filled his ears as the scalpel cut cleanly through the brain. Each incision was made with practiced precision, every wave of the small knife deliberate. He’d done this so many times before, it was second nature by now. Dissect, record, kill, dissect, record, he’d done it since he’d freed himself from beneath his parent’s thumbs. Since he got out of the basement. Ironic, now that he’d set up his main lab there.

Today was no different, though Ruben had chosen to focus on one particular part of the brain; the cerebellum. It sat lower on the organ, closer to the brainstem, meaning he often had to kill his subjects to get to it. No matter, the data was more than worth it. And it was there waiting for him, a wellspring of neurotransmitters and chemical reactions. The mind’s response to his live dissections etched into the stone walls of chemistry.

With one final, satisfying cut, the gelatinous glob fell from the rest of the organ, the gentle weight falling into a gloved hand. Ruben placed it onto its own tray, shoving the rest of the brain into a corner. He’d have to discard it before it began to rot, but that could wait. His scarred fingers twitched with the anticipation of new data. His creation, STEM, was nearly ready for its first prototype, he was so close.

Standing, he went to retrieve the rest of the tools he’d need, listing them off as he removed his gloves; syringes, sharper scalpels, a microscope. Things he preferred not cluttering his desk while he worked on getting the parts he needed. Sometimes he could work on the surgical tables marking the center of his ‘exam rooms’, but alas, he still needed to dispose of the body, too. Something that only served to waste his time, which could be spent doing research.

He grunted with the weight of some of the equipment, his hands sending dull shocks of pain up his arms. Ruben had years to cope with the weakness of his body after the fire, but it was moments like these that made him grit his teeth in silent rage. That day had rendered his existence one of constant pain and strife, and he was loath to be reminded of such.

Though that rage quickly simmered down, burning with a low heat in his chest. That was why he was doing this research, after all. His body, his life…his sister. What he lost, he would get back.

One subject, one dissection, one brain at a time.

Ruben let out a tense sigh, his robe catching the stale air as he spun around, awkwardly walking back to his desk with the bulky microscope cradled in his hands. He only wished it wasn’t taking so long. His project was years in the making, and he knew it would take years more for it to come to fruition. Truthfully, he was frustrated by it all. He was tired of living this joke.

The microscope hit his desk with a dull thud, the scars on his hands and fingers aching from the excursion. He shook them out, flexing his fingers to tame the soreness in his joints. The day was still young, and he was determined to make the most of it.

Ruben picked up his scalpel, positioning the cerebellum so his cuts would be clean along its length. To get the proper images, he’d need slices as thin as hairs, which meant there was little room for error. Too thick and he wouldn’t be able to see what he was looking for, too thin and there wouldn’t be enough to work with. He would be injecting them with dye, which in turn would react with the various chemicals throughout the soft tissue, changing the dye’s color. Crude methods, certainly, but they delivered the desired results. The way the brain coped with such high levels of stress, fear, and pain - he would have that as his prize.

Or, at least that was the plan. Plans which came to a grinding halt when Ruben found himself unable to move his arm or hand.

Puzzled, he furrowed his brow, glancing at the offending limb. It was frozen in midair, scalpel raised, as if stuck in time. He tried to force it into motion, but it didn’t budge, the muscles stiffened without his consent. Frustrated, he turned his attention back to the brain on his desk, hoping his muscles would relax after a moment. It wasn’t unusual for his body to just give out on him, much to his annoyance, but with any luck, it would pass after a few moments.

Ruben was caught off guard though, when his vision began to swim. He couldn’t focus on any one thing, all of it smearing into a watery mess of indistinguishable colors. He blinked rapidly, trying to clear his muddy eyes, but there was no relief.

He heard a distinct clatter, that of metal striking metal. He’d dropped his scalpel, it took him too long to realize. He hadn’t even felt it, couldn’t perceive as his fingers closed around nothing. He could feel his breaths becoming frantic, his body not listening to his commands. The colors warped, shifted and melded, until everything began to go dark…

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

You knew something wasn’t right when you heard a metallic tink as you were coming down the basement stairs. The place was usually home to similar sounds, that of Ruben exchanging one tool for another while he worked, but this time it sounded different. Louder, more chaotic, like something had been dropped. That wasn’t like him - Ruben was meticulous, and took great care of his equipment. It wasn’t like him to be careless.

You’d been on your way down to deliver some water when you heard it. Ruben had trouble remembering his own physical needs while he was working, meaning more often than not, that duty fell to you. You made sure he stayed hydrated, and had something to eat if he got hungry between meals. He feigned irritation, stubborn as he was about being able to take care of himself, but you knew he appreciated what you did. The glasses were always empty when you came back to retrieve them, and his supply of snacks was always steadily depleting. While he didn’t approve of you being in his lab for long, he allowed you these short visits.

Besides, you always sweetened the deal by giving him a quick kiss before you went back upstairs, and you both knew Ruben couldn’t refuse you when you did that.

All such pretense went down the drain when you heard the strange noise, your heart jumping a little. You hurried the rest of the way down, dropping off the glass on a random table when you reached the bottom. Without hesitation, you barged into the room he was working in, not caring if he got mad at you for the intrusion. He was standing before his desk on the far wall, hand poised above a pink blob on a tray. Part of a brain, you supposed, but you hadn’t the foggiest idea which piece.

More worryingly, Ruben hadn’t acknowledged you when you came in. You tilted your head at him quizzically.

“Ruben?” You said, voice meek as you tentatively stepped forward. He offered no response, which only made your concern grow. Upon getting closer, you noticed a slight tremble to his form.

“Ruben? Ruben, what's wrong?” You said, more frantic now. You’d never seen him act like this, and you hadn’t a clue what could be causing him to do so.

You reached out a hand to steady him. His trembling only seemed to be getting worse.

Before you could graze the fabric of his robe with your fingers, his legs appeared to give out. Eyes widening, you jumped forward to catch him, yelping as he dragged you down to the floor with his weight. You collapsed in a tangled heap, Ruben’s body cushioned by your own. The concrete was cold, unforgiving as it bit into your tailbone.

Recovering from the tumble, you looked down at the man in your lap, opening your mouth to ask more questions. You just as quickly froze, feeling Ruben’s body twitch and convulse in your lap. The blood drained from your face, heart in your throat as you watched his body jerk violently.

Seizure, your brain offered through its panic.

“Fuck,” you muttered, setting Ruben gently down on the floor, mind whirling with what you were supposed to do.

He’d warned you this was a possibility. When you two started a relationship, he’d given you a laundry list of various complications that arose from his injuries. Numbness, trouble with temperature regulation, limited movement, muscle stiffness, and yes, seizures were on that list. He told you they happened more often when he was a boy, his body unable to cope with the loss of so much tissue. They didn’t happen as much anymore, but they would never fully go away. There was always a chance of one happening.

Too great a chance, you thought, ripping off your shirt and putting it under his head. He’d given you some basic instructions on what to do if he ever went into such a state, back when he explained all this. It was a bit hard to concentrate though, heart like a drum as you watched him seize.

Safety, safety first, you reminded yourself, spotting a scalpel close by - the one he dropped, you presumed. You quickly snatched it away from him, setting it on his desk so he wouldn’t cut himself. Next, you remembered him telling you to time his seizures, to make sure they didn’t last too long. You grabbed at your phone with shaky fingers, fumbling with the device until you finally got a timer going. Make sure he’s breathing, don’t hold him down, keep things out of his mouth, your mind recited the list, mentally checking off each one as you did it.

His last instruction, stay calm, was admittedly quite a bit harder to honor.

How were you supposed to stay calm with your love seizing on the floor?!

What was minutes felt like hours. You sat beside him, feeling useless and scared as you worried your bottom lip between your teeth. Ruben told you these weren’t a huge deal, and you trusted him, but being in the presence of it was something else entirely. You felt like you should be able to do more, make it less torturous somehow, but the logical part of you knew you couldn’t. Now it was just about waiting.

Slowly, his muscles began to settle, the spasms happening less often, their strength waning. You spared a look at his face, frowning at the grimace still on it. You hoped he wasn’t in pain. You peeked at the timer; 1 minute 40 seconds, it read.

You let out an anxious breath, rocking back on your shins. Not a medical emergency, then, if it was already clearing up. For that at least, you were grateful.

A deep groan filled the room, and your attention snapped back to Ruben. He was finally starting to regain consciousness, squeezing his eyes tightly shut against the fluorescent bulbs overhead. Once you were sure it was safe, you scooped him up into your lap, cradling his head and shoulders while you softly whispered his name. You nudged his nose with your own, trying to get him to open his eyes. You needed to know he was okay. His flesh was cold, and you held him firmly, giving him as much of your warmth and comfort as you could.

Eventually, it worked. Ruben groaned again, a deep, pained sound, eyelids parting a crack to look up at you. They looked glassy, like he’d abruptly been awoken from a deep sleep. You gave his shoulders a light squeeze, delicately stroking the scarred side of his face while his good side pressed against your chest.

“Ruben, are you okay?” You asked gently, looking at him with clear worry etched into your face.

He blinked at you a few times, taking a moment to process your words.

“I…What happened?” He croaked, his voice horse. You’d have to remember to make him drink something.

“You had a seizure,” was your simple reply. You tried your best to sound calm, but your voice wavered as you spoke, giving you away. “I did my best to keep you safe and comfortable.”

Ruben studied your face for a moment before he nodded stiffly, his attention leaving you to scan the room.

“And where…are we?” He asked.

Ah, the confusion. You remembered he told you that was the most common symptom. Seizures almost always left their victims confused and disoriented.

“We’re in your lab, at the manor,” you told him. He seemed pleased with that answer, the last of the stiffness leaving him as he relaxed into you. Your heart melted as he nuzzled his face into your sternum, blinking lazily as he let out a contented sigh.

Loath as you were to move him, you knew this wasn’t the best place for him to rest.

“Hey,” you kissed his forehead to get his attention. Those pale irises snapped to you instantly; he couldn’t resist your touch. “I’ll take you to bed, okay?” You waited for a response, and after another nod, you continued. “Do you want me to get your wheelchair, or can you stand?”

His nose wrinkled at the mention of his chair. You knew he hated it, hated how much it reminded him how weak his body was, but with mobility being a common issue, he needed to keep it around. You wished for his sake he used it more often, but you never pushed the matter.

“I can walk,” he said quickly. He didn’t need the help, he could do it himself.

To prove his point, he tried to sit up. Tried, being the operative word. His adam’s apple bobbed with anguished grunts as his muscles screamed in protest. Everything was sore, like he’d just run a marathon in sweltering heat. His teeth ground together as he slumped forward, head hung as he fought down a wave of nausea.

“Hey,” you said again, supporting his back so he wouldn’t fall and hit his head. “Don’t push yourself. I’ll take you as far as I can, but if you need the wheelchair, please just ask for it. Now is not the time to be stubborn.”

Ruben huffed at you, but he knew he was in no position to argue. “Fine,” he hissed, letting you loop his arm behind your neck. With a quick countdown, you were able to hoist him up, both of you stumbling a little as you found your footing. His scars pressed up against you as he used you for support, and you did your best not to cause them any unnecessary irritation. After making sure Ruben was okay, you began your slow, awkward hobble up to the second floor.

It was a long, arduous process. One made almost entirely in silence, both of you struggling to put one foot in front of another. Only two questions from him broke the silence on your journey there: how long was the seizure, and why weren’t you wearing a shirt. You had to stifle a laugh at the second one, but you answered them honestly. It wasn’t long before you reached the bedroom, causing you both to sag in relief. You had to kick the door open, leading him inside as gravity shut it behind you.

He plopped onto the sheets heavily, panting from the pain plaguing his joints. You sat down next to him, taking his hand in yours, rubbing his knuckles with your thumb to sooth him. You couldn’t begin to imagine how hard something as simple as walking must be after that, especially with his burns already making movement difficult. Your own shoulders were sore from holding him up, but it was a small price to pay if it lessened his own suffering, even if only a little.

After a pause, Ruben sighed, lifting his head to stare at the wall opposite you.

“This is pointless,” he grumbled, turning to meet your gaze. “I’ll be fine in a few minutes. I should be back in the lab.”

Your brows drew down at that, eyes narrowing. Even for him, that was an insane notion. You leaned forward, placing a single finger on his charred nose.

“Liar,” you accused sternly. “I know you want to do more, but you’re in no condition to be running experiments. You need to rest.”

Ruben scowled, removing your hand from his face. “I need to get back to work. I’ve lost enough time as it is.”

You scowled back at him, a harsh rebuttal on the tip of your tongue, but you stopped yourself. The expression just as quickly dissolved, replaced by worry and sorrow. You knew how important his work was to him, you knew what he’d done to obtain it. Aside from you, it was everything to him.

“I know,” you said softly. You pushed the hood of his robe down, revealing his scarred, hairless face. You ran your hand along the edge of his jawline, admiring how handsome he looked like that. “I know it means a lot to you…I just don’t want you to hurt yourself.” He gave you an incredulous look, but you weren’t finished. “I know you’d stay down there every waking moment if you could, and I don’t fault you for that. But I can’t stand the thought of finding you impaled on your own equipment, or one of your subjects getting out because a seizure impaired your judgment. I don’t want to think about what could happen to you if you don’t give yourself a break. So if you can’t do it for yourself, can you at least do it for me?”

Ruben didn’t say anything at first, his eyes rolling over your face while you stroked his own. Part of you expected him to keep arguing; after all, he’d survived this long without you.

Instead, it hardly took a moment before his features began to soften, and he melted into your touch. His eyes closed in sweet bliss as you traced his scars with a loving reverence, basking in the way you worshiped his body.

“Alright,” he breathed. When he looked at you, his eyes were filled with a subtle adoration. “I’ll rest. But only if you promise to stay with me.”

Your face lit up at his condition, smiled brightly at him. You leaned forward, brushing his lips with yours.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way,” you purred, smirking as his pupils widened with desire, a tiny shiver rippling across his skin. God, how easily he became putty in your hands.

Before he got any ideas though, you pulled away, wordlessly tugging at the sleeves of his robe. You both knew it would only catch on his scars while he was under the covers, so it needed to come off. He let you carefully remove it, not a word uttered from either of you as you threw it over your shoulder. You’d deal with it in the morning.

Averting your gaze from his bare chest, heat rushing to your cheeks, you wormed your way back onto the bed, flopping down onto your back. As an afterthought, you unclasped your bra, pulling your arms through it as you tossed it onto the floor. Like hell you were going to sleep in that. Satisfied, you beckoned Ruben to join you, holding out your hand invitingly.

Unfortunately, he was a tad busy, staring wide eyed at your form, to notice. He still wasn’t used to seeing such things, even after living together with you for months.

“No funny business,” you teased, lightly pulling on his arm to make him lay down.

His eyes flicked up and down, meeting yours before admiring you again.

“No promises,” he smirked.

You scoffed, pulling on him enough to finally coax him into action. He hesitantly crawled over you, lowering himself as you wrapped your arms around his waist. He let out another happy sigh as your breasts squished against his flesh, so soft, so warm. You traced along his spine with the pads of your fingers as he buried himself in the crook of your neck, letting your chin rest atop his head. Legs intertwining, he gently clutched at your shoulders while you pulled the blankets over your bodies. You smiled at the feeling of the dual textures of his rough, burnt skin and the smooth, untouched parts of it. The buttons of Ruben’s pants dug into your thigh, but you hardly noticed, instead enjoying this moment of affection between the two of you. You knew you were likely to wake up alone, Ruben having gone back to his lab, so you were going to savor this as long as you could.

As his breathing began to even out, you placed a few final kisses on the crown of his head.

“Rest now, my love,” you whispered, hands continuing their ministrations. “Rest, and I might just let you go back to work tomorrow.”

“As if you could stop me,” Ruben quipped, but his speech was slurred, his heart not in it. Shortly after, his breathing slowed considerably, and you knew he was fast asleep. He must’ve been exhausted; he didn’t usually fall asleep so fast.

Happy he was heeding your words, you closed your eyes, determined to follow suit. You imagined sitting by him in the music room, Ruben expertly plucking a melancholy tune from his piano as you drifted off to sleep.

———————————————————————

It’s been way too fucking long since I posted any fanfics, I almost forgot how I even format my own posts >.<

Anyway, more Ruben x Reader fluff in the future.

#ruvik x reader #ruben victoriano #ruben ruvik victoriano #ruvik victoriano #ruvik #ruben victoriano x reader

[russett-pots]

Sunbae the tutor

Kim Minju

Tags: Mating press, pronebone, breeding, buttplug, dub-con?

Word Count: 3.1k

I'm back. Here is my first fic after my break. You forced me to write this so I expect you to like this. I'm sorry for my purejuers. The next Minju fic will be full of pureju. I promise.

Ugh. I don’t get this.

“Okay, Class. That’s it for today.”

You sigh again. It is yet another day when you still have not grasped the topics you have for your class. After trying countless nights reviewing and studying again and again and again. Your empty brain still has not soaked a single bit of information. Anyway, it is a long day. One more activity before heading home is your home org meeting.

This meeting is more of a party. An excuse for your Sunbaes to meet their Hoobaes. But since it was held on school grounds, no alcohol. But it is time for you to relax and unwind. It is time for you to get rid of the feeling of your everyday mundane routine.

“Hey!” Your friend calls you. “Long day?”

Your tired faces show it. You have huge eye bags, your hair is not in its best shape, and wearing the same sweatpants and a shirt from yesterday.

“Yeah…Classes have been killing me.”

“Yeah, I can tell. Are you still having trouble with that subject you have been talking about?”

“Oh my fucking god. I still can’t understand anything. Everything is way too complicated and the prof is speaking way too fast.” You shout

“Dude relax. You should calm down.”

“I can’t. That’s the only thing on my mind right now.”

“Okay if you really need. Try to get help. A tutor maybe?”

“I can’t. My parents cannot afford something like that.”

“You can ask our Sunbae. I did it for calculus. They’re really smart.”

“Really they can help?”

“They are more than willing. It’s part of their job.”

You scan around. Most people are just talking with their cliques. Suddenly, you get a sudden arm around your shoulder.

“Hey!” It is the Org president. “You guys doing good?”

“Yeah! Party— I mean meeting is going good.”

“That’s great to hear. Don’t forget to fill out the feedback forms before you leave. We really appreciate your thought on what we did tonight.”

He double-pats your shoulder as he leaves. But before he can get away, you grab his wrist. “Sunbae”

“Yeah?”

“I need help with one of my subjects. Is it alright if you can tutor me?”

“Hmmm…. Ah! I can’t but I know someone who can. Follow me.”

He leads you across the room.

“Minju!”

She turns her head from the conversation she just had. “Hmmm?”

“My friend here needs your help.”

“Help? What kind of help?”

“He has difficulty with one of his subjects, Can you tutor him?”

She looks at you up and down like she is assessing you. “Him? Sure!”

He looks at you and slaps you on the back. “Great!”

“President! We need something from you.” A shout from the vice president comes from the other side of the room.

“Got to go! See you around!”

He leaves you and Minju by yourselves.

“So. What subject are you having trouble with?”

“Ummm….Chemistry 1.” You look at her with a defeated face while scratching the back of your neck.

��Ah! Don’t worry about that. I can teach you that.” She looks at you. Eyes scanning up and down She pinches your arm and laughs a bit. “You seem like a nice guy. I’ll be more than happy to help you. Do you want to meet me at my dorm? Tomorrow evening?”

“Sure!” You don’t notice those flirtatious actions because of your tired state but they linger in your mind for a while but you do not mind them as they are not the most important thing in your mind.

~~

You enter the apartment building. It is relatively small. Only seven stories and it is near the campus. It is made for students. You got up to the intercom and type Minju’s room number.

It rings.

“Hello?”

“Sunbae?”

“Ah- come up. Come up.”

The front door opens and you enter the building. The hallway leads up to the stairs and you walk to the second floor and go to the fifth room.

*Knock* *Knock*

The door opens and you see Minju in a bathrobe, leaning against the door.

“Hey, Hoobae. Come in.”

“You don’t have to call me—.”

“Shusshhh. I’ll call you Hoobae, okay?”

“Yes, Sunbae.”

“Actually, call me Minju. I’ll be teaching you in the meantime.”

She welcomes you inside. It is quite sizeable for a student. A decent size kitchen with a dining room to match and a nice large bed on the side. “Go to the table over there. I’ll do a couple of things first.”

You head to the small dining table and sit down. With your hands flat on the table and your foot tapping on the floor, you nervously, and patiently wait for Minju to come out. Then there she is, still in her bathrobe. She sits beside you and crosses her legs. You can see the bathrobe fall a bit and shows off more leg than what one should normally see.

“So, what topic are you having trouble with?”

“Ummm….. More on balancing equations.”

“Really? I also had some trouble with that part.”

You take out your notebook and a worksheet that you printed out for the tutorial session. Minju looks at the problems and scans the questions. She tilts her head and pouts her lips.

“Hmmmm… I see. I’ll give you a simple trick. What I would do is place coefficients in front of each one. Like in O2, H2O, or CO2. What’s your oxidant?”

“Our professor only used oxygen.”

“Nice that makes it easier. Now, let’s start. What I normally do is put coefficients in front of each molecule. Let's use x,y, and z. so O2 will have x.” With with her pen hovers over each item. 

“Then for y for CO2 and z or H2O?” You question.

“Yup! Okay the next part is going to be tricky. Let’s use propane as an example. C3H8. We keep propane by itself and we don’t touch it. Then we put x for O2. Then on the other side y CO2 + z H2O.”

“So, what do we do now?”

“We have to do by each element. First, we do carbon. On the left side, propane has three moles of Carbon and oxygen doesn’t have any. So here we have three on the left side. On the right side. CO2 has one so we put that on the right side. So we have our first equation 3=x. Easy right?” She plays with your shoulder.

“AHHHHHH! I see. We can do hydrogen next. Ummmmm. 8=2z….. so z=4.”

“Yup!”

“Okay. Oxygen……2x….=2y…+…z. Hmmmm….”

“You know what to do?”

“I wasn’t born yesterday. We already have y and z just plug it in. so x=5.”

“There that’s our balanced equation.”

“Omg.” You grab your paper from the table. “It was so much easier than I thought.”

But as the lesson goes on Minju’s foot touches your leg but she does not acknowledge it. But instead becomes bolder. Her foot strokes your hairy shin. It tickles a bit so you do not stop her but instead allow her to play with you more. Her hand “accidentally” touches yours. This becomes more frequent.

You admit to yourself that it is nice to see the skinship that Minju is offering you. But soon it gets too much for you. You are here to study and what Minju is going is not going to help you pass the exam next week.

“Sunbae?”

“Call me Minju.”

“Minju. Ummm…. I’m getting uncomfortable.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean. You have been touching me.”

“I know that.”

“Really? I’m not sure….”

Minju places her finger in your mouth.”

“Look. I’ve one condition before I tutor you. Especially to good-looking guys like you.”

“What?”

Minju leans to your ear and whispers.

“I want you to be my Hoobae.”

“I’m already you Hoobae.”

“You’re making this hard for me. I like it.”

From your ear to your cheek and kiss it. Slowly moving to your lips then down to your neck.

“Minju, we shouldn’t be doing this.”

“Call me Sunbae. I know you want this.”

“Sunabe…”

Minju continues to kiss your neck as she grabs your hand and places it inside her bathrobe and onto her breast. You grab it and play with it.

“Like it, Hoobae?”

“Yes, Sunbae.”

“Want more?”

“Yes, Sunbae.”

“Then follow me.”

Minju breaks the kiss and pulls you to her bed. She makes you sit down, kneels, and spread your legs open. The nervousness increases as she inches closer to you. 

“Look. I haven’t had cock in a while.”

“Sunbae…”

Minju stares at your growing bludge and licks her lips on what’s about to be her meal. Her hands slowly inch towards the button of your pants. It is swiftly dealt with as your pants are pulled down. As soon as it reaches the floor. Minju removes it from your ankles and throws your pants away.

The cold air in her room encircles your warmed cock. It stiffens from the sudden change of temperature and the beauty that is in front of you.

“Wow! Have you been hard all this time?”

“Uhhh….”

“Don’t worry. You don’t need to say anything.”

Minju then stands up and pulls the knot off her bathrobe. It drops to the floor and she shows off her elegant body with perfect tits, a nice ass, and wide hips. But the most important thing you see is her thick thighs.

“Like what you see?”

“Yes, Sunbae.” You nervously say, looking up and down.

“Good. Then I’ll give my Hoobae a good time. But I have one condition.”

“Hm?”

She leans in and whispers to your ear again. “Cum in me.”

You lean back in shock.

“Don’t worry. I’m on the pill. I just want the feel of cum in me.”

Minju kneels and spreads your legs open once more. She stares at your cock as her hand starts to slowly grab your veiny length. Her cold hand starts to slowly pump it. Minju leans forwards and uses her tongue to lick the very tip of your cock.

Soon enough the sticky clear pre-cum emanates from the slit. She twirls her tongue around it and gets a taste of it. Minju’s eyes look around your cock. She moves lower and drags her tongue from the base to the tip. The rough taste buds tickle your cock. She engulfs your cock whole, going directly back to the base for a self-induced deepthroat.

This makes you let out an audible moan. Minju moves from your cock but still leaves her hand pumping it.

“Sunbae, are you done?”

“What do you mean? I barely started.”

Minju goes back down and starts eating your cock. Mouth surrounds your cock and in tandem with her hand pumping it. The vigorous motions force a wave of pleasure up from your crotch. This makes you moan louder as she pushes you further and further to the edges.

“Sunbae. Sunbae. Wait. Wait. I’m going to cum—”

Minju ignores you and continues to suck your cock but this time faster and faster. Soon you shoot your first wave of cum. She pumps and squeezes every single bit out of you. Minju with her cheeks full gets up and gulps down all the cum in her mouth.

“I always loved the taste of cum.”

“Sunbae…I’m tired.”

“Hey! You can’t be tired. I haven’t had my turn. Move around. All fours now!”

You comply and get on the bed with your hands and legs flat and your butt sticking out.

“Don’t worry about this. This hasn’t been used. Think of this as a gift. You can bring it home if you want.”

“Sunbae?”

Minju ignores you once more. You look back and see her lather up a black butt plug with lube.

“You ready?”

“Yes. Sunbae.”

“Very good. Just want to warn you it might hurt.”

She slowly sticks it inside your ass. First, as it enters, it hurts. You grab onto the sheets tightly from all the pain that you are experiencing. She pushes it further the pain slowly grows bigger and once it is fully inside, you can fully feel it inside your rectum. It first feels painful but the longer it sits inside the better it feels.

“This is going to make the orgasm feel better. Trust me. And as far as I can tell. You are ready for this.”

You look down at your cock and get surprised at how hard it is already. As you admire your shaft for a moment, Minju suddenly pushed you down to the bed and kisses you on the lips. The taste of cum remains in her mouth but you do not mind as her kiss is amazing.

Minju sits on top of you with her pussy directly in front of your re-enlarged cock. She goes back to kiss you again while she pumps your cock. The second orgasm is about to come. Minju shifts herself forward and positions herself above your cock. She gives a good tap on your top onto her entrance, teasing herself a bit.

“I’m sure this cock is going to be good.”

You nod in affirmation. Then she drops herself in you. Your large cock makes Minju let you a loud scream. You can feel your cock entirely inside Minju. She grinds your cock in her. Moving forward, sideways and backward without moving up and down for now.

You can see her eyes smile in delight. The pleasure from your cock gives a sensation that is still not even at its full potential. Minju jumps up and down as your cock slides in and out of her. Her juices start to spill from her cunt.

You hold on to her soft, delicate skin and onto her tight waist. Skin so immaculate you wonder how it can get like that. But regardless, that’s not what is important right now. You balance her as she moves up and down.

You can feel it yourself. The pleasure of her tightness in her pussy envelopes all of your senses. Your boner starts to get into control. You no longer have regular instincts and all your want is sex, rough sex. You can see it in her eyes that she wants more and you will give more. You grab her and switch her to the side.

Minju laughs at you, once refusing her offer and now the one in control.  You lay her on her back and position yourself on top of her.

“What’s your plan, Hoobae?” She looks at you with curiosity, knowing what you will do to her.

“This.”

You push her legs up to her chest and start the mating press, thrusting as hard as your can. Minju screams as she cannot handle you so fast. But regardless you ignore her cries instead as she shouts you speed up faster.

Minju grabs onto your arms and holds on for dear life and you slam your cock into her tiny pussy. You wonder how it was so tight even with all of her experience. Her nails dig into your skin, scars form as her grip tightens.

“Fuck! Your cock is so good!”

“If you want more I can do more!”

“Do your worst!”

You flip her over to her belly. Her head facing down to the bed and her ass looking at you. You grab your cock and align it back to her pussy and prone bone her from behind. Your cock pokes to her g-spot as your thurst once more but even faster than before. Minju screams even louder this time. She tries to face up to breathe but instead, you use your left hand to make her face flat on the bed, making her barely breathe but enough for her to enough tonight’s session. While your right-hand slaps on her ass.

“Like that you slut.”

“Fuck me harder. I told you to do your worst.”

“I’m going to make it harder alright. You started this and I’m going to finish it.”

Finally with your words of encouragement or whatever she said. You push to your fastest. This time you can hear Minju's repetitive shouts echo in the room around and maybe to her neighbors as well. But you do not care. It is not your dorm and Minju can handle it herself and the only thing you want to do is to deal with this slut and that is to fuck her and fuck her hard.

“Fuck! Your pussy is good. I’m going to fuck you so hard you cannot walk in the morning.”

You grab her one more time and bring her to the table. All of your study material gets tossed away and you slam Minju on the table. Her eyes once more look at you with despair but begging you, asking you to ruin her.

You slap her cock to the entrance of her slit, teasing her. But Minju is tired, she cannot complain because she does not have any more energy. For the final time, you thrust in her. Minju’s face leans back, eyes roll over and you run your length inside her. You pull her up as she is drunk with sex. She looks at your lips then smacks her to yours.

You slam into her while you kiss, spitting in her mouth and she instinctively swallows it. Your right-hand gropes her breast while your left caresses her ass.

“Fuck! You’re really going to not make me walk the next day.”

“Does it look like I care, Sunbae?”

“Fuck me harder then. What are you waiting for? And don’t forget.” She leans in and whispers to your ear. “Cum in me like the slut I am.”

You look back and affirm her. Minju resumes your kiss. The passion and lust between a senior and her junior can be heard all around the room. Finally, you can feel your legs get weak, and your cock is ready to burst. You break the kiss.

“I’m going to cum.”

“Inside. Do it inside. I want it and I know you want it too.”

Minju pulls you closer and resumes kissing you. Soon, you release your seed. Even more than before. You fill her up to the brim as you lean back from Minju to see your artwork. Minju’s lips cover with your salvia, her sweat all over her body, and she wishes your cum leaking out of her hole.

She looks back at you, smiling. “I see you’re good. I need to tutor you more often.” She jumps off the table and heads to her bed. While she walks away. “You can either stay and sleep with me or go home, I don’t mind either.”

“I have to go. My roommate is expecting me.

“Okay, then. Text me next time then. I’m sure you still need help with your homework.”

#Kim Minju #minju smut #izone smut #kpop smut

[kimetsu-chan]

omg zentari fic req time???

Zeno is helping the love of his life study for a big test that she’s stressed out about 🥰💕

~Don’t Stress~

A/N: EEEE YES, MY FIRST REQUEST FOR MY POOKIES ZENO AND KITARI SKSHMSNSJS 🙌 this is more Zeno trying to get Kitari nor to overwork herself, I hope that’s okay :(

ZenTari are in an established relationship bc I love them and cannot live without them

TWs ⚠️: idk if stress counts? But Kitari is stressed :3

Today was one of Zeno’s and Kitari’s usual study sessions they’d have with each other when a test was coming up.

They started doing this when Zeno was failing his chemistry class, and it became a usual tradition.

It was just very relaxing compared to how they used to study. They would both keep each other in check and make sure they were getting adequate rest, food, water, etc. They helped each other take sufficient breaks and they made sure neither overworked themself.

Zeno was currently trying to make Kitari take one of those previously mentioned breaks.

She’d been going over the same few subjects for the past hour without a single peep or break. He could practically feel the stress radiating off of her as she prepared for a large test.

Sighing, Zeno stood up from his seat in the library they were at and crossed the table side to stand next to her. He folded his arms and cleared his throat, making sure to get her attention.

She looked up at him sheepishly as she knew what he was about to tell her.

“Kitari- take a break.”

“I will in just a moment I nee-“

“No. You don’t need to finish anything.”

He gently leaned down and took her highlighter out of her hands and placed a bookmark in her book. He gently closed said book before crouching beside her and propping his cheek on his palm.

“C’mon Tari, you’ve been at this for a while now. Let’s go get some ice cream or something”

“Bu-“

She was silenced by a finger on her lips. Zeno shook his head disapprovingly and sighed.

“Tari, I know you’re stressed. And that’s why you need to take a break. You can get right back to it once I know you aren’t overworking that brain of yours.”

Kitari gave him a small pout in an attempt to get him to let her continue. It was unfortunately not working on him. He wouldn’t let her tire herself out.

“C’mon, we can go get our ice cream and eat it at the park. Then and only then will I let you get back to studying.”

“….”

Pulling a trick he knew would get Kitari to fold, Zeno gave his girlfriend the best puppy dog eyes he could. And it worked like it always did.

“Fine…”

“Yay! Thank you Tari.”

Zeno immediately got up and began to help put her books and materials in her backpack. He pressed a quick kiss to her cheek before helping her up.

“It’ll be on me, of course.”

A/N: Larz, you have no idea how ridiculously happy writing this made me. I think I may be more crazy abt them than I am abt GiYuna atp—

#🍁 #tw stress #demon slayer #oc #hehehe #kimetsu no yaiba #kny #Zeno arakawa #zentari #kitari melina #kny ocs #kny modern au #i love them your honor #they are my life support #they are my roman empire

[proxima-writes]

the satanic rites of eddie munson (chapter 2)

chapter 1 | chapter 2 | chapter 3 | chapter 4

Pairing: Eddie Munson/Cheerleader!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Read on AO3

Summary:

Eddie was just trying to have a normal Thursday when some band from out of town decides he’d make an excellent virgin sacrifice for their get-famous-quick plan.

Except he’s not a virgin, and the ritual unleashes something much more sinister that lives in him now, hungry for flesh and possessive of you, the pretty cheerleader he’s always been drawn to.

Which means anyone that touches you? Needs to die.

Inspired by the movie Jennifer's Body.

Additional tags: violence, fighting, allusions to dv, possessive behavior

Eddie’s eyelids flutter open. The first thing that registers is the pain in his head. The second is that his arms are pinned to his sides, held down by rope that’s bound him to a tree.

Something crackles, and when he turns his head he sees three men silhouetted by a fire, their features covered in darkness. One of them holds a large book in his hands and another holds a dagger, the blade catching the light of the fire as he passes it between his hands.

“What the fuck,” Eddie groans.

“Oh, good. You’re awake. It did say that was important.”

The man with the dagger steps forward until he stands in front of Eddie. He crouches, placing the tip of his dagger beneath Eddie’s chin. The sharp point pricks his skin as he swallows.

“Do you have any idea how hard it is to make it in the music industry? Some would say…you have to make certain sacrifices to get there.”

________

The next day, Eddie’s eating his second bowl of cereal at the small kitchen table when the news breaks that Gregory Pearson, beloved son of Officer James Pearson, has been found dead of a suspected animal attack.

“--severe lacerations to his face, neck, shoulders, and chest,” the reporter reads. Eddie’s chewing slows as he listens. “Officials believe that this unfortunate attack is the result of a mountain lion.”

Uncle Wayne huffs from the living room. “Ain’t no mountain lions in Hawkins,” he mutters as he sets up his roll-away mattress for his daytime sleep. “Also, Eddie, don’t think I didn’t notice my steak missing, you little shit. You owe me.”

Eddie throws him a two finger salute in acknowledgment as he places his dirty bowl in the sink. He grabs his things from his room and heads out the door to his van. As he turns the old hunk of junk on, the radio blares with a song that sounds oddly familiar.

“And that was Death By Midnight with their new hit single, Lost Without You, ” the show host says as the guitar riffs fade out. Eddie wracks his brain for where he may have heard the song or band before, but nothing comes to mind. With a shrug, he changes the station to another rock channel, only for the same song to be playing.

“Must be popular,” he mumbles as he pulls out of Forest Hills trailer park.

________

The atmosphere at school is somber, a distinct juxtaposition to how good he feels. There are groups of students huddled together, whispering or crying. He fights the urge to roll his eyes as a girl near his locker lets out a horrible sob before collapsing to the ground. He steps around her, knocking her bag out of the way with a booted foot as he makes his way to chemistry class.

You’re there before him, which rarely happens. You’ve told him before how you have a tendency to snooze your alarm one too many times each morning. Despite the slump in your shoulders, you still smile as he takes his seat.

“You’re looking a lot better today,” you tell him. Eddie shrugs.

“Feelin’ a lot better too, sweetheart,” Eddie replies with a wink. He revels in the splotches of pink that appear on your cheeks, trailing down your neck and disappearing into your shirt.

What he wouldn’t give to chase it down your body.

“Kinda crazy what happened to Greg, right?” You ask. “I mean, a mountain lion? Do we even have those here?”

If you asked Eddie, Greg deserved what happened to him. He was a piece of shit, a showboating jock that made people miserable for his own enjoyment.

But he doesn’t say that.

“Yeah, really crazy,” he replies instead. “Maybe you shouldn’t be walking home after school. If…if you want, I can give you a ride?”

Your eyes go all soft and sweet as you look up at him. That look gives him almost as much of a high as ripping into Greg’s throat did.

Almost.

“That’s really sweet, Eddie. Are you sure you don’t mind? I wouldn’t want you to go out of your way or anything.”

“Pleasure’s all mine, princess.”

The bell rings, tearing your attention away from him, but Eddie notices the way your hand grips your pencil just a little bit tighter, how you shift on the stool in a way that rubs your thighs together.

Mine.

________

You’re in the cafeteria trying to pay attention to something Carol is telling you about her plans for the weekend, but all you can think about is Eddie Munson.

Which isn’t new, by any means. You’ve always been kind of smitten over the school outcast. He’s sweet and hilarious, not to mention cute with his wild curly hair and big brown eyes. You look forward to your classes with him and love the way he lets his guard down around you despite the high school crowd you belong to.

Your mind drifts back to first period and the way your whole body seemed to light on fire at him calling you sweetheart and princess . Even now, just thinking about it, you have to fight the urge to squirm in your seat.

He’s never called you names like that before.

You want him to do it again.

________

Eddie stares across the cafeteria at where you sit with your cheerleader friends. His plate of lukewarm mac and cheese sits untouched in front of him. Ever since his… altercation …with Greg, he hasn’t felt hungry.

At least, not for food.

“You gonna eat that?” Dustin asks, fingers already inching towards the paper tray.

“Go for it,” Eddie replies, eyes still trained on you.

You look up, eyes meeting his, and Eddie feels like something snaps into place, like a tether goes taut between the two of you with just one look. Your eyebrows draw together and your head tilts slightly, a cute little expression of confusion.

The bell rings for the end of lunch, making you jump in surprise and breaking that connection. Eddie clenches his jaw against the loss, already itching to feel it again.

Soon.

________

It’s the end of the day and you’re grabbing the books that you need from your locker. When you shut the door, you let out a shriek of surprise. Eddie leans against the locker beside yours, lips spread in a mischievous grin. You smack him on the shoulder.

“Don’t scare me like that, Eddie!” You hiss.

“Sorry, princess. You ready to go?” He asks once he’s able to get his laughter under control.

“Yeah, I just gotta grab something from the locker room. I’ll be quick.”

He follows your lead to the gym, stopping outside the locker room doors to wait for you. There’s no sports scheduled today, not since news broke about Greg, so the locker room should be empty.

Instead, someone’s sitting on one of the benches, hunched over with his back to the door. He lifts his head when he hears your footsteps. You recognize the perfectly groomed blonde hair.

“Jason? What are you doing in the girl’s locker room?” You ask.

He sighs, turning his head to look at you with bloodshot eyes. “Chrissy…Chrissy broke up with me.”

“Oh. I’m…uh…I’m sorry?” You shuffle over to your locker, holding back a shiver at the feel of his eyes following your motions.

“Yeah. She said she just can’t handle a relationship right now, with everything,” he continues, standing. You spin the lock with fumbling fingers, your heart rate picking up speed. “Says she just wants to focus on herself.”

“That…that makes sense, I guess,” you mumble, finally getting the lock to click and pulling the door open. You reach inside to grab your cheer bag, looping it over your shoulder.

“Does it, though? You know, I’d always heard she had a thing for Greg,” he says, voice closer. “You know anything about that?”

“No. Are you listening to yourself right now? Chrissy wouldn’t do something like that.”

“Maybe. But maybe you’re just covering for her.” He reaches an arm past you, shutting the locker door with a bang that makes you jump. “Maybe you know more than you’re telling me.”

You spin on your heel, surprised to find Jason so close, looming over you with a look in his eye that makes you feel like a rabbit sighted by a wolf. “Maybe you just need to accept that Chrissy finally came to her senses about your controlling behavior, Jason, ” you say. “Because maybe I do know a little more, but not about Chrissy and Greg. About you.”

His hand wraps around your throat, shoving you back against the lockers. His lips curl in a snarl, fingers tightening their grip as you struggle against him.

“The fuck is going on here?” Eddie shouts. Jason immediately releases your neck, turning to face his interruption.

“Nothing. We were just having a little chat, weren’t we?” Jason replies, directing the question to you. Eddie calls your name.

“How about you head out to the parking lot, I’ll meet you there,” he says, eyes never leaving Jason. “Now,” he snaps when you don’t move.

You scramble away from Jason, rushing past Eddie and out the door. As you follow his instructions to meet him in the parking lot, you can’t help the worry blooming in your gut. The look in Eddie’s eye as he stared down Jason was almost…inhuman.

And you think that maybe…maybe Jason isn’t the bigger predator in that room.

________

Eddie wraps a fist in Jason’s t-shirt, slamming him back against the lockers with a strength he didn’t even know he possessed. The blonde’s head bounces off the metal with a satisfying sound.

“Don’t you ever touch her again, you hear me, pretty boy?” He snaps.

Jason’s eyes are wide with a fear so potent, it makes Eddie’s head spin and his teeth ache. “Let go of me you fucking freak!”

“Have it your way.” Eddie releases him and he crumbles to the floor in a heap. He gives him one swift kick in the ribs for good measure. “You’ll get what’s coming to you, Jason,” he warns, before turning to leave.

Eddie’s got a good idea of what his next meal will look like.

________

You’re leaning against Eddie’s van, rubbing a hand absently across your neck when you spot him exiting the gym. Alone.

With quick strides he approaches you, hands gripping you by the shoulders and eyes searching you over for signs of injury. “Are you okay?” He asks, voice tinged with worry as his eyes zero in on the red mark left behind by Jason’s hand.

“I’m fine, Eddie, really. Are you okay?” He doesn’t respond. Instead, a gentle hand cups against your neck, a calloused thumb rubbing across your throat. His jaw clenches. “Eddie?”

“I’m fine, sweetheart,” he finally says.

The nickname, combined with the feel of his hands on you makes you shiver, eyes fluttering shut. When you open them, Eddie’s gaze is locked on your lips.

You stand perfectly still. The hand on your throat slides up, framing your jaw. His thumb slides across your bottom lip, the same as it had across your throat.

All too soon, he’s releasing you from his grasp, stepping back and putting space between your bodies that you wish wasn’t there.

“Come on. Let's get you home,” he says, voice rough. He reaches around you, pulling open the passenger door of the van. “Wouldn’t want your parents to worry.”

“Right, yeah.” You try to hide the disappointment you feel. “Thanks again for the ride.”

“No problem, sweetheart.”

#eddie munson #no use of y/n #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fic #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x reader smut #eddie munson x you #eddie stranger things #demon eddie munson #inspired by jennifer’s body #possessive eddie munson

[mayajadewrites]

Levi Ackerman X Reader: Moth to a Flame

Chapter Three Summary: Levi catches the reader and Jean, and we get some of Levi's POV.

ao3

C H A P T E R T H R E E : D I F F E R E N T

"What do you two think you're doing?" Captain Levi emerged from what seemed like thin air.

"We're just taking a walk, Captain." Jean explained, his hands accidentally brushing yours.

"She got hurt today, and you thought it was a good idea to take her on a walk? At night?"

"It was my idea." You speak up, squinting your eyes so you can fully see Levi. "The nurse said I'm fine, Captain, so I think a nice walk wouldn't hurt."

"Get inside. Now." Levi pointed at the door, Jean immediately following his order. You look at Levi for a moment – you couldn't believe what he's doing. First, training and now this.

Levi's facial expression was stern. His eyes were unforgiving, just like his face. Once Jean was inside, you decided to ask Levi what the hell is going on.

"Captain, can I ask you something?" You step closer to him, crossing your arms over your chest.

"Go ahead."

"Every time I'm somewhere... why are you always there?"

"I'm your Captain."

"That's not what I asked." Your eyes wander Levi's upper body, thinking of the muscles underneath his clothes.

"Coincidence." Levi looked down into your eyes, raising an eyebrow.

"What a coincidence that you were interrupting the time I wanted to spend with a man that isn't you."

For once, Levi had nothing to say. His mouth didn't open, his eyes didn't move.

What is he thinking? You're over him, finally. He's avoided you for a long time, and now he wants to make his presence known?

L E V I

Levi Ackerman is not a man that should be messed with. Being from the underground, he has thick skin and has the determination that most dream of.

When he met you, something in his brain changed. The chemistry was altered. He saw your frame, your curves, your innocent eyes, and he knew that he had to have you.

Being a Captain means you cannot date scouts. It's basically forbidden. After getting to know you, and letting down his walls, he said you were his.

Every night you would come to his room within his office, and spend your nights with him. Levi would wake you up early so you can sneak back into your room before your roommates found out you were even gone.

After battles, Levi only wanted to be with you. He needed to make sure you were okay, and he would even let you tend to his wounds.

The pressure of being a Captain got to Levi, though. He couldn't be your boyfriend AND a Captain. You would try to steal kisses behind half open doors, but he would never allow it.

"Levi." You caressed his face with your index finger, exploring his eyes. "You were having a nightmare."

Levi experienced nightmares daily – but this is the first time you witnessed one. He was screaming, his body flailing while he was shouting comrade's names. Levi wrapped his arms around you and held you close, breathing deeply.

"Baby," You pressed your lips to his gently, bringing his thoughts back to you. "I'm right here."

"Go to bed." Levi turned around, walking towards the building. He was heading to his office, where he should have been this whole time. He got a feeling in the pit of his stomach to check on you, he's had that persistent feeling since he saw Jean on top of you this morning.

Levi made his way to his office, hearing your boots click against the floor behind him.

He didn't think you would move on from him so fast. He didn't think you could.

You still held his beating heart in the palm of your hand.

R E A D E R

After you see the Levi enter his office, you take a sharp left towards the wing of the building that Jean's room is on. He rooms with Connie, and you can tell exactly which room is theirs by all the laughter.

You knock on their door, opening no one can hear you.

Connie opens the door, smiling when he sees you. "Hey!! What are you doing here?" Connie hugs you gently before you see Jean pop his head in your line of vision.

"I wanted to say hi, and ask Jean if he would take a walk with me."

"But Captain Levi –"

"It doesn't matter. Come on." You grab Jean's hand, leading him out the door. He's tall, way taller than you, and his build is muscular.

As you walk, your pinkies brush against each others, only adding sparks to your storm.

"Can I tell you something?" Jean turned to you, stopping in his tracks.

"Of course." You nod, looking up into his eyes.

"I've had a crush on you for... awhile."

"You don't say." You grin, tilting your head.

"You knew?!"

"Jean, everyone knew." You smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. "Kiss me." You whisper, the next thing you know Jean's lips are on yours, his body hovering over yours. You were making out against a tree, the light from the moon subtly shining on you.

Jean's hands snaked down your sides, gripping your ass gently. Everything about Jean is gentle. The way his lips move against yours, the softness of his hands as he touches your skin, and the way his chest moved as he kissed you.

You hold Jean's face in your hands as you peck his lips gently, smiling against him. "Goodnight, Jean." You kiss him once more before letting his hand go from your grasp.

"Goodnight." Jean kissed your cheek before turning around, presumably to head back to his room to sleep.

You touched your lips when he left, your heart beating fast from the touch. You haven't kissed anyone since Levi, or even felt the slightest feelings towards anyone.

The kiss felt... different.

A good different.

#levi ackerman #levi #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman attack on titan #levi ackerman aot #levi ackerman smut #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi ackerman fanfic #jean kirstein #aot #attack on titan

[fourmula1]

Maxiel prompt: Max is worried about Daniels mental health

789 words. depressed omega daniel universe.

-

“Did he eat today?” Max asks Michael as they’re stood in Max’s kitchen. They don’t have a lot of conversations and they’re not particularly friends but Max knows they’re united on this cause.

“Not a ton,” Michael confirms, which Max knew anyway. “Drank his smoothie, poked at his lunch,” Michael finishes and Max sighs, leans his hip against the counter top and chews at his lip.

He knows it’s hard for Daniel to do much and he’s tired all the time and sad and. Max doesn’t really understand it, depression, but he’s trying to be supportive and care for Daniel as best he can. He’s not eating enough, though, but he’s still keeping up his training with Michael and Max knows it worries both of them. Daniel is too skinny. Max doesn’t know how to say it to Daniel without offending him, doesn’t know how to say it right.

“I make him eat dinner with me always,” Max tells Michael. It feels kind of bad talking about Daniel like this behind his back, like he’s not a grown adult, like he needs to be cared for.

But he kind of does right now. He’d likely waste away if Michael and he were not making sure he doesn’t.

“I know,” Michael nods as he starts packing up his stuff from his and Daniel’s afternoon session. Daniel’s showering and Max knows they don’t have much longer to keep talking. Max knows Michael knows how hard it’s been lately. How could he not.

“Has he said much to you?” Max asks him, not sure he wants the answer. If the answer is yes, selfishly he thinks it’ll hurt him. That Daniel hasn’t told him his thoughts. If the answer is no, he feels worse for knowing he’d be relieved that his omega isn’t sharing that level of intimacy with someone else.

“Not really, mate,” Michael continues, zipping his bag and looking up at Max from where he’s crouched on the floor. “Just, the usual. The season, missing home.”

“Yeah,” Max agrees, sighing again. “Fucking hell, man. It’s got to be more, right? He’s never been like this before and he’s been away from home. He’s had hard seasons…”

Max knows there’s no rationale for being depressed. He knows that. But.

“Mate,” Michael says as he stands. It’s awkward. “I don’t know if it is or isn’t. Or maybe his brain chemistry is all out of sorts. Maybe there isn’t a reason but there’s still a problem and I don’t think he’s going to listen to me about it,” Michael tells him and the implication is that it’s going to have to be Max.

Max knows this and he’s tried to talk to Daniel but maybe he needs to be firmer. Michael is slinging his bag up over his shoulder as the bedroom door clicks open and Daniel emerges; freshly showered, in comfy clothes. He takes a look at the two of them standing so close, suspicious and narrowing his eyes.

Max and Michael don’t talk. Daniel knows this.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, mate,” Michael says, gives Daniel a nod before making his way for the door. Daniel says his goodbyes too and when Michael is gone, looks to Max.

“What was that about?” He asks, folding his arms protectively in front of his chest. He looks small. He’s always been kinda smaller than Max but like this he looks vulnerable.

“Just asked how training went today,” Max lies, and hates himself for lying. He glances down at his fingertips atop the counter, bites his lip before looking back up at Daniel. “Daniel, I. I think we should talk. About this. How you’re doing,” he says, so brave and anxious as he meets Daniel’s eyes.

Daniel frowns, looks wounded and physically takes a step back. Max’s heart clenches.

“I’m fine, Max,” Daniel says and it’s with a sigh.

“I don’t think you are,” Max tells him, swallowing the lump in his throat. “I don’t know what I can do. You’re sad,” and it’s almost a whisper.

Daniel is quiet across the kitchen from him and Max watches Daniel watch him. Watches Daniel’s expression try to steel into something not… sad. He doesn’t do a great job. Instead, Daniel sighs again, turns to go to the living room to curl up on the couch. This conversation isn’t going to be easy.

Max follows, tugs Daniel into his arms when he settles on the sofa for a cuddle. If he’s angry at Max for bringing it up he doesn’t show it, and goes easily to cuddle into Max’s arms. Max squeezes him, closes his eyes and presses a kiss to Daniel’s temple when Daniel sniffles against his chest.

Something has to give. It’s got to.

#depressed omega daniel #my ficlet #maxiel #abo verse

[terapsina]

Do Us Both a Favor - hizzie fic

- ao3 -

It was an unacknowledged, unspoken thing. When Lizzie was hanging out with MG, Hope found herself a different spot to spend time in. Usually, she made a polite excuse and just went outdoors, or to her room. But today her room felt too quiet and it was raining outside so strongly it's as if the gods they'd defeated months ago were punishing them from whatever afterlife they went to.

So instead, Hope had put on her earphones, turned on some music, and picked a seat in the common room that was furthest from Lizzie and her boyfriend.

“You're pathetic," her own voice suddenly told her, filled with scorn.

Hope felt herself freeze and looked to her right to see the cold, cruel face of her shadow-self. Her jaw clenched in irritation, and with hackles rising, Hope snapped back. “I’m sorry, I’m pathetic?"

She hadn’t exactly yelled but there were a few sudden glances thrown her way anyway and Hope turned her head at once, letting hair fall over her face to cover up the incantation of a quick silencing spell. All she needed was for everyone in the school to go back to walking around her on eggshells because she was talking with herself again - it had taken too much work to earn back the trust she'd lost after she'd flipped the switch and went on her bloody bender, she wasn't risking it all because her humanity-less half was paying a new visit.

That done she looked over, glaring at the hallucination of the part of herself that had done her very best to ruin Hope's life. “I’m not the one who keeps showing up like a freaking gnat that can’t take a hint about overstaying a welcome. Also, didn’t I already get rid of you, do you want me to banish you again?” Intrusively, like clockwork any time a thought even vaguely connected to Lizzie appeared, her brain pushed to the front of her mind a memory of Lizzie, this time of her short, amused laugh from when Hope made the golden spell-butterfly burn into dust.

'Just in case.'

Apparently, that hadn't been enough though, her evil twin was back anyway.

“Please," the Hope with the terminal lack of humanity rolled her eyes, "like that’s gonna scare me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Annoyance was rearing its ugly head again. Talking with the bloodthirsty vampire half of herself was very nearly as infuriating from this side of who was in control as it had been from the other one.

“I don’t know, I’m not the one who broke us in half, remember? That was you," the other Hope quipped back "and then you went on to whine about how you didn’t like me in charge. At least I didn’t reach this particular low.”

She gestured over Hope, her jaw raised in an arrogant show of superiority.

“What are you even talking about?”

The other Hope didn't answer immediately, at least not with words. Instead, she looked past Hope toward the side of the room which Hope was avoiding.

“Lizzie looks... cozy,” her evil double added saccharine-sweetly but with a sharp note in the tone that Hope did her best not to think about. Without meaning to, Hope's eyes followed the implied nudge. Something hissed inside her chest as if a red-hot poker had been directly pressed against exposed flesh when her eyes landed on Lizzie, who was curled up on the couch with a chemistry book in her lap and MG’s arm around her shoulders.

“How is that- what are you-” she growled under her breath, frustrated “we’re not talking about Lizzie.”

"When I had Lizzie-” Hope’s shadow-self started out, obviously set on ignoring her.

“You didn’t have Lizzie, she was sired to you-”

“Yes, she was. And we both know what that means. She’s ours Hope, so how about you do us both a favor, stop moping like a pathetic little fledge, march across this room, and break that thieving little arm in half.” She finished the whole thing by miming the 'walking' with her fingers and then clenching those same fingers into a tight fist.

Hope let out a deep breath, trying to remind herself that her other self wasn't tangible enough to be strangled.

“MG's my friend, I'm not going to break his arm." If Hope was honest with herself, it was occasionally hard to remember that lately. Especially during those times when he showed up unexpectedly and kissed Lizzie in greeting - on her cheek, Lizzie always turned her cheek for him, at least when Hope was around. She tried not to let herself read too much into that.

“Don't be a baby, it's not like he won't heal, might learn not to touch other people's things though." The sharp, possessive tone that entered her other half's voice hit home, most of all because it found its like in Hope herself.

Still, the words themselves rubbed her wrong. "Lizzie isn't a thing."

The other Hope shrugged, unbothered. Then she smiled.

"Don't pretend you haven't spent the last three months a hair's trigger away from pushing Lizzie against the nearest wall and claiming her in front of half the school, it's not like she wouldn't enjoy it. I don't know how much you remember, but my memory distinctly recalls a certain number of times she admitted to loving-"

Okay, no.

"What I remember is snapping her neck. I remember killing her. I remember treating her the way mom told me to never treat the hybrids I might sire. I remember her breaking the sire bond and running away from you."

The other Hope's cool facade cracked in half for a fraction of a second and there was a moment where she felt the void between them echo back and forth with the sharp agony of the memories from that night, the way Hope had felt nothing - or wasn't supposed to be able to feel anything and yet it hurt. Being abandoned by Lizzie had broken something, had shaken her so deeply she'd nearly turned on her humanity herself. She’d been so very close.

She clenched her own fists, letting her nails bite into the skin of her palms painfully.

"Why do you even care? I thought you said you didn't want to feel things?"

"Yes, well unfortunately my weak-willed half is behind the wheel at the moment, which means I'm forced to deal with all those disgusting pointless emotions too.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is that I don’t care about this self-sabotaging guilt trip you’re on, we’re in love with Lizzie and if you don’t start doing something about it soon I’m going to have to start fighting you for control of that wheel again.”

She felt her throat dry with a pulse of panic.

“Do we understand each other?” the other side of herself asked her sweetly, eyes dancing maliciously. Hope opened her mouth but no sound materialized. It didn’t seem to phase her shadow-self. “Great, glad we had this talk.”

The Hope she’d once been when her humanity had been turned off grabbed her hand. She felt her finger twitch, - deliberately but not by her own will - and a searing spark of power left the finger with a flick that flashed across the room to hit MG.

The arm of his hoodie caught fire.

#hizzie #hope mikaelson #no humanity hope mikaelson #hizzie fic #femslash february #lizzie saltzman #legacies fic #legacies #otp: we're in this 'til the bitter end #fanfic

[inviba]

Our Chemistry - Part 3

Mark Sloan x LexieGreysTwinSister!Fem!OC

Masterlist

warnings: blood, baby getting hurt, mother dying, daddy issues?, OC cries, OC blows up at Cristina, adoption, teenage pregnancy if you do the math, Lexie sleeps with Alex, bad driving

I scribble something down as I hear the door to the closet open.

"You guys are charting. In a closet." Karev says.

"We get a lot of work done in here. It's quiet. And nice." Lexie emphasizes.

"And a closet."

He pauses.

"You know, every intern class has its runt of the litter. You keep this up. This year, there'll be two. Get up. Grab a sling from the box and come with me. You're helping me on ortho today."

I grab the sling, and we follow behind him.

-

"Oh! Hello? Watch the shoulder." A lady screams as we enter.

Two women, a bloody wedding dress, and O'Malley holding onto it. Hilarious.

"Oh, check it out. Bambi's a bridesmaid." Alex laughs.

Just then, Mark turns around and makes eye contact with me, and I swear he smirks and winks. I feel Lexie's gaze on me.

"I told you so." She says in my ear.

"Shut up." I cut her off.

-

"God! I'm so glad today's over." I throw my head back as I speak to the sky.

"Right? Do you wanna drive?" Lexie asks.

When I nod, she throws me the keys.

We walk the rest of the way to the car in silence.

We're down the road from our apartment when I almost swerve.

"I slept with Alex Karev."

"What?!"

"Eyes on the road, Liz!" She yells at me.

"You slept with Karev?" I emphasize.

"Yes! And that's not the worst part."

I look at her to urge her to keep going.

"He's Meredith's roommate."

I pull into my parking space and give her a look.

"She probably thinks you're a stalker!"

"I know! I know. I'm gonna talk to her tomorrow."

"Okay. Karev, though? We're twenty-three, isn't he like thirty?" I smirk as we begin our ascent up the stairs.

"Yes, Karev. No, he's not thirty. And it was good. Have you..?"

"No. I, uh..." I pause while Lexie unlocks the door.

"No. I don't have the guts to talk to Mark and no one else has caught my eye."

"Mark? As in Sloan? You know his name?"

"You know Karev's name?" I cross my arms.

"Fair point. I'm making dinner tonight. Go ahead and shower." She laughs.

-

Lexie and Dr. Yang are speaking when a woman barges into the E.R.

"Help! My baby! I was carrying her down the stairs, and I fell, and she hit her head. She was crying in the car, and now she's not crying anymore. I'm too scared to look. Someone, please tell me my baby's alive." The woman rambles.

I immediately grab gloves for Lexie and I.

"Okay, let me—" Yang begins.

"She can't be dead, right? You don't die from just falling down the stairs."

"Please, let me help. Let me help." Yang takes the baby and rushes her to a bed immediately.

She uses her stethoscope for a second before confirming that the baby is breathing.

"Her fontanelle feels tense. She's lethargic. Take her to trauma two and page Shepherd." Yang says to me, but I freeze.

Lexie, without hesitation, grabs the baby for me, and we run to trauma two.

-

"Your baby has a slight brain contusion. Her brain is bruised. It's minor. But I'd like to keep her here for observation." Dr. Shepherd explains to the father.

"I gotta tell you, Dr. Shepherd, I'm listening to you, but I'm not hearing anything you're saying. Dr. Hahn is taking my wife into surgery right now, and I need to go be with her. You know what you're doing. Go ahead and do it. I need to go be with my wife."

"Wait. What's your daughter's name?" I ask the man.

"She doesn't have one yet. We just adopted her a week ago, just been trying to get to know her."

I feel my heart drop in my chest, wondering if this is what it was like all those years ago.

I feel Lexie's hand on my shoulder.

"Are you okay? You need to sit this out?"

"I'm just gonna go check on the mom's surgery." I brush her off.

-

I stand in the door of the room overlooking the O.R. and see Cristina and Mark.

"Hahn took my O.R. She's pushy."

"Pushy and rude."

"Boy, I'll say." I blurt out.

Mark and Cristina turn to look at me, but I avoid eye contact with Sloan.

"Four. Shouldn't you be with the baby?"

"It's Lizzie. And I was. Lexie is with the baby right now."

"What did Dr. Shepherd say?"

"She has a slight brain contusion, but she'll be fine."

"Thanks, Four. This man doesn't need to lose his wife and baby on the same day."

"It's Lizzie." I say through my teeth.

"What?" She says rudely as I go to face her.

"My name isn't Four. My sister's name isn't Three. You call us Lexie and Lizzie, or you call us both Grey. Your choice, but I won't be responding to a number like I'm cattle." I say frustratedly before storming off.

-

I rub my temples as I walk into the NICU.

"Hey, what's wrong?" Lexie asks while holding the baby.

"Just frustrated. Headache. I need a destresser. How's she doing?"

"Sounds like you need sex. She's doing great."

"You're stupid." I laugh, and she laughs back.

"Do you want to..?" She gestures towards the baby.

"No. No, I can't."

"It's been nine years, Liz. Are you ever going to be able to?"

"I don't know," I admit, "I don't know if I'll ever be able to hold a baby again." I whisper with tears in my eyes.

"I'm gonna go check on her mom. If anything goes wrong, page Karev." She says, and I nod in response.

-

"She wants to see the baby..." Lexie trails off when she walks in.

The side of the box she was in is open, and I have my hands out.

"Lizzie. It's okay." She grabs my hands and pulls them away from the baby.

"I'm sorry. I tried, Lex." I cry out.

"I know. I know." She hugs me, caressing my hair.

After a moment, she speaks again.

"Just help me push this thing to her room so she can see her baby."

"Okay." I sniffle and wipe my nose.

When we get down to her floor, rapid beeping is coming from her room.

"Her heart stopped again? They got it started, but look, I can't deal with her right now. Could you just take her back?" He asks Lexie.

When she doesn't respond, he yells.

"Now! Could you take her away now?" He asks again as Lexie begins pushing the cart back.

-

I notice the father outside the NICU while Lexie is feeding the baby. I nod to her and walk out to him.

"She's good. She's eating right now, but if you want to see her, we can go on inside."

"Dr. Hahn said that Teresa's not in good shape. Her other lung is leaking now. And they can't operate because her heart is too weak from all the strain. So they're gonna see if she's gonna make it through the night and reassess in the morning."

"I'm so sorry. Truly, I am." I whisper.

"I need to know who to call just in case my wife doesn't make it. I can't do this on my own. I know what I'm capable of, and I can't raise a kid without my wife. A kid that's not even my own blood. The kid deserves a family. And hey, I'm not a bad guy, and I see her. And she's good, you know? She's a good baby, but I'm not..."

"You're her dad, and she needs you. You are so much more capable than you think you are. I had— You are her family. You are the family she deserves. She needs you now more than you could ever know. And she loves you. She's just a baby, but she loves you. "

"I don't feel like a dad. I look at her and see that she's not mine. She's just a baby." He shakes his head before walking off.

"What did he say?" Lexie asks me.

"He said he looks at her and ses that she's not his. That she's just a baby. And it got me thinking. Do you think Martin and Alice look at Halley and feel like shes not theirs? Did I stick her with bad parents?"

I pause.

"Lizzie—"

"Did I give my daughter to people who don't want her?" I breathe out.

#mark sloan #greys anatomy

[grimsneverendingfuneral]

Aw, Grim, you’re so sweet! But you don’t needa worry about me, I promise! I’m trying to stay positive, catching up on books or shows I can’t get to because I’m usually very busy. It’s silly, I know, but at least it’s better than bein all depressed. I play football and my coach told me I can’t play until it’s healed which really bummed me, especially since we have a game on Thursday. But I’m looking at the positives! So if you have any shows you recommend… 🤲

Okay the how is kind of stupid, but I’ll tell you anyway. I broke my arm playing football, fell right on the goal post and put my arm out to break the fall… yeah. And my wrist, well. I’m very short, like 150cm short, and I weigh nothing, so I climb. Not rock climbing, I mean climbing up my furniture; in this case, the huge bookcase I have, so I can reach the top books. I feel like you can kind of see where this is going. So I climbed it as usual, to get to the book I need, since I stupidly keep all my important books and school stuff at the tippy top. And I tried grabbing the book I needed with my now good arm, the one that I’d just gotten the cast off of, but it fell. It’s a heavy book so I didn’t want it to make a noise and disturb my neighbours so I kind of tried chasing it down with my arm?

It didn’t work and I ended up falling haha. I tried stopping it by landing with my hands out to break the fall but I didn’t want to risk my arm to breaking after it just healed, so I only used one hand. I don’t know how to explain it well, but my hand sort of landed between the floor and the book that fell. Surprisingly, it doesn’t even end there! I also slammed the big ass metal front door of my flat on my hand. Broke my wrist in four places lol.

I haven’t had a chance to listen to your song yet, but I will today! Pinky promise :)

Anyways! Question time, Grim… What’s a hobby you had as a kid? Do you like painting your nails? What’s your preferred method of transportation (e.g.: bus, train, car)? What’s something that made your week/day better? 🎤

ooohhhh you play football??? oh fuck yeah. youre so cool for that. but one thing though...... is it football like british football aka soccer or american football lmfao

i cant believe this story though wowwwwwoooww..... i truly understand your thought process. we do weird stuff like that when we're alone, us humans. you try to save your ass by making a move that ultimately has another part of your body suffering. i get it. i do it all the time. as someone who lives alone, i always have to be extra careful as to how i do things cause if i fuck up, no ones gonna save me lol. glad youre taking this time to just consume sick ass media. nothing better

OK SHOWS I RECOMMEND FUCK there are a lot. take your pick: Shameless (US version fo sho), My Mad Fat Diary, Friday Night Lights (football show that changed my brain chemistry), The Sopranos, Fellow Travelers (gay), It's A Sin (gay), Pose (one of the best shows ive ever watched), Freaks And Geeks (1 season only show), It's Always Sunny In Philadelphia (if you just wanna shut your brain off) and uuhhh any cartoon like Bojack Horseman, Simpsons, Rick And Morty is also sick (to me) you can just shut your brain off while watching it. all these shows are mad entertaining

A hobby i had as a kid......damn i had a lot. I would draw compulsively honestly, like anywhere i could. Any piece of paper. I would also play imaginary games with complex scenarios all the time and act out the entire Peter Pan live action movie from 2003 with my friend. i would collect keychains and had this bouncy ball i was obsessed with that i would just bounce off the walls. i went to circus school too so i did a lot of shit on the jungle gym at the park like every day. always tryna impress the other kids lol. nothings changed

i also do paint my nails! always with some sparkly polish though. i dont like to wear dark color polish or anything too matte so its always a combo of different glittersss

my preferred method of transportation is my bike!! but its winter 6 months outta the year here so when i cant take it i like walking the most or the bus. the subway here makes me feel claustrophobic fr. my parents are giving me their car though in the summer so im about to be a gay man that drives aaayyyyyyy

something that made my week better........hm probably dancing with my friends. it was disco night and i had my flask in my pocket so i got to drink for freeeeee. also writing the first two chapters of my rosekiller fic AAANNND getting an ask from you!!!!

okok i feel like i KNOW the game is YOU ask ME questions, but here lemme return the sentiment: what is a dream youve had that you'll always remember?

#mic anon #ILY THANK YOUUUUUU #glad youre okay!!!!!

[miekasa]

six thirty

+ pairing: armin arlert x (fem) reader

+ genres and warnings: college au, enemies to lovers… kinda… in a very nerdy academic rivalry kind of way, me being a comedian you’re welcome, fluff, smut/nsfw content

+ word count: 5.6k… pls say sike

+ notes: shout out to ryn​​ for listening to me during our very many rambling sessions and also for extorting me into posting this. consider it a late birthday present for my favorite menace </2

+ side notes: no i am not a part of armin nation and i never want to be, nor do i wish speak of this again.

Armin Arlert is the perfect student. Prompt and well prepared during lecture; smart and insightful during office hours; the apple of any teacher’s eye. Unfortunately for him, so are you.

If you asked Armin, you were a little too clever for your own good, and liked to make it very well known that you believe you’re the smartest person in any room you walk into. That may be true, but it doesn’t mean that he has to sit there and worship your superiority complex. 

If someone asked you, you’d say that Armin was a know it all, and a manipulative little piece of shit. Again, not a completely false statement, but perhaps a slightly biased character analysis.

Neither of you are wrong. It’s why you’re both the bane of each other’s existence.  

There’s a noticeable grimace on your face, chin in your palm, elbows resting atop your desk, as you turn your head to where, sure enough, Armin is seated where he always is: first row, right side, directly in front of the podium, like perfect little teacher’s pet he wants to be. He doesn’t have any books to unpack like everybody else because a shiny, blue iPad is propped up on his desk in place of all of that. He’s robably looking through his pre-written list of showboaty questions to ask during lecture. Like he’s a cut above everyone else.  

Maybe some of the other morons in this course, but not you, that’s for damn sure. You bet that if you broke his thousand dollar tablet he wouldn’t think he’s such hot shit anymore. Maybe that would knock him down a couple of pegs.

“Look at him sitting there with his stupid blue eyes, and his stupid Bieber haircut, and his stupid, shiny blonde hair, and his stupid fucking glasses. I bet they’re not even real and he just wears them to—”

“Did you just call his hair shiny?”

You snap your head to your left, “What—no, of course not. I said shoddy, he’s probably a bottle blonde. Maybe all the chemicals from the hair dye seeps into his head and warps his sense of reality.”

“I’m pretty sure you said shiny.”

“Shut up, Annie.”

She raises an eyebrow at you, “You got something against blondes? Because your track record would beg to differ.”

“Once. We kissed once, and it was truth or dare, and we were both sloshed.”

“You still chose me,” she reminds you, pulling her notebook out of her backpack.

You huff, ignoring her words and turning your head back to Armin, this time finding him twirling his stupid fucking expensive Apple Pencil between his fingers like it’s nothing. You can feel your eye begin to twitch.

Perhaps he can, too—or maybe he can just feel your eyes boring holes into him—because he turns in your direction and ceases his pen twirling the moment you make eye-contact. More students filter in, walking past your line of vision, but each time they move, you and Armin meet gazes again; neither one of you daring to look away, a palpable tension between you.

His eyes might be icy blue, but you can see the rose pink tint underneath his skin, even from the distance; a familiar blush that spreads across his nose and cheeks. You exhale with a silent laugh, breaking your eye contact before he grows completely red, just in time for Dr. Zöe to start the lecture.

Everybody thinks that Armin’s so brilliant, so smart, so untouchable. You know that his only genius is that he’s fooling everyone into thinking that he’s the kind, humble, little nerd boy who wouldn’t harm a fly, when that’s far from the truth.

Armin is mean. He’s competitive and possessive and snarky and sly. He’s the definition of a wolf in sheep’s clothing, but you’re pretty sure the only person in the world who might believe that is Eren. Though, you’ve heard some of the insults Armin throws Eren’s way, and they’re not exactly soft. Granted, that’s a factor in any friendship, and most of his jabs are coated with a layer of intellect the brunette likely doesn’t understand, but that doesn’t make Armin any less sarcastic. It just means Eren’s too dumb to know what’s going on.

Poor kid. Maybe it’s for the best.

That’s all to say that Armin is nothing but a big talker—not even; a smooth-talker, is more like it. He comes across as perfect, all good and sweet and soft, because that’s what he lets people see. Nobody else looks through to the sharp tongue and ragged edges, because they’re too busy cooing over innocent blue-eyed baby in front of them.

But you know that Armin, the one he doesn’t want other people to see: the one that’s so good, he’s bad; so sweet that he’s sick; so nice that it’s cruel. And you know just how much pressure to apply to make his façade crack.

And you intend on doing so.

“I don’t know which formula to use—hey, are you two eye fucking again? Cut it out, I’m trying not to fail over here,” Eren exclaims, poking Armin’s shoulder with his pen.

The jab averts the blonde’s attention back to his friend, eyes wide as he blinks himself back to reality. He curses under his breath when he feels a familiar warmth creeping across his cheeks. Few things piss Armin off like the way he gets red in the face after thinking about you, or even just looking at you, for too long. Whether it’s red out of pure annoyance, or another feeling he tries to push down, it’s irritating, and above all, embarrassing.

He spares one more glance over his shoulder, to where you and Annie are sat a few tables away in the library. You’ve looked away by now, focusing back on your notes, but Armin swears he can still see that irritating smirk on your face from this angle.

He rolls his tongue along the inside of his cheek. He should be able to keep it together around you by now, but he can’t, and it bothers him. You bother him.

“We weren’t eye fucking,” he refutes, turning his back to you completely, “She’s such a little know it all sometimes, s’annoying.”

Eren raises an eyebrow. He knows that you and Armin don’t get along, but he doesn’t understand why. Armin knows almost all your friends, and you definitely know all of his—Eren would even go as far as to say that you and him are pretty close friends—so it’s not a matter of not spending time together. You’re also the two smartest people Eren knows. In theory you should have more than enough to talk about together, but every time you’re in the same room, you hardly acknowledge each other outside of surface level commentary, or glances that border on staring.

Thankfully, the bickering remains in the classroom for the most part. Eren’s seen you and Armin go at, and he’ll be the first to admit that it’s beyond intimidating. Though, a little part of him finds it oddly entertaining, and he can’t help but to be impressed. All the more reason for you two to start playing on the same team. 

Eren thinks the two of you should get to the root of the issue already. Which, if you asked him, has very little to do with your rivaled academic genius, and a lot to do with your lack of it concerning your feelings for each other.

“She’s not that bad,” Eren vouches for you, “I think you two might get along if you ever spoke outside of trying to one-up each other in class.”

“I’m not trying to one-up anybody,” Armin rolls his eyes, a nasty habit he’s picked up as of late, “And if you stopped and used your brain for a moment, then maybe you could solve the problem.”

“I did use my brain!” Eren’s lips fall into an offended pout, “But none of this makes any sense to me! I fucking hate math, you know that.”

Armin sighs, feeling sympathetic for Eren as he slumps into himself defeatedly. He knows that Eren isn’t dumb, but math in any capacity is certainly not his strong suit. He also knows that he shouldn’t give Eren all the answers, but sometimes he needs a little push to get him there. A little bit of added guidance and motivation to keep him going. It’s either that, or he has to trick Eren into doing the work himself, but clearly that method wasn’t working out today.

“You already solved for the activation energy, now you’re supposed to use the Arrhenius equation in the expanded form.”

Eren’s lips fall into a small o-shape, as his eyes scramble across his paper again. “But—how do you—”

“There’s two measurements given for temperature.”

“Oh. Oh, yeah! Okay, right, but then—”

“You have to convert it to Kelvin first or it won’t work. It’s given to you in Celsius.”

Eren furrows his eyebrows together, and then it finally clicks for him. He mutters to himself as he puts his pencil to paper to begin to work through the problem, “How do I convert—”

“Add 273.15 to it. Make sure you put the bigger one first in the equation, or else you’ll get a negative error.”

“You didn’t even do it,” Eren huffs, angrily punching numbers into his calculator, “How do you know it’s right?”

“Because I took this class already,” Armin reminds him, sparing a brief glance over his shoulder, “Isn’t that why I’m tutoring you?”

Eren coughs over his embarrassed blush, “Oh, yeah, right.”

It’s quiet between them as Eren makes a final attempt at solving the equation, carefully and proudly circling his answer when he’s finished. He looks to Armin with bright eyes, and is content when the blonde gives him a reassuring nod, confirming that his answer is correct.

“Well that was a bitch to work through,” Eren sighs, stretching his arms behind his head with a slight yawn, “Chemistry is nothing but glorified math. It’s barely a science.”

Armin shrugs, but he doesn’t disagree. He isn’t the biggest fan of chemistry, unlike somebody else he knows. “Why’d you take chem if you knew it would have so much math?”

It’s Eren’s turn to shrug, slumping back in his chair and running a hand through his hair, “I gotta take all the pre-med requirements… just in case.”

“You wanna go to med school? Since when?”

Eren averts his eyes from his friend, a telltale sign of his bashfulness coming over him. It doesn’t happen often, but Armin knows it’s sincere when it does.

“Dunno. I’m not sure of it, just wanna keep my options open, you know?” Eren replies casually, “Doctors help make a difference and all that, and surgery looks kind of cool. Besides, if my bastard father could do it, how hard could it really be?”  

A gentle smile grows on Armin’s lips, “You can do it. If you really want to, I know you can.”  

Eren’s head snaps up, eyes wide and filled with affirmation and adoration. He relaxes his expression quickly after, but the pink hues are still present, “Thanks, Min.”

From his position he catches eye of another head of familiar blonde hair over Armin’s shoulder, and beside it, your own hair. There’s a flash of a moment when your eyes meet Eren’s, and you offer him a small wave before turning back to Annie to resume doing your homework. Eren barely gets the chance to wave back, but a dopey smile sits on his features at your kind gesture. It fades when he looks back to Armin, once again pondering the animosity between you two.

You and Armin aren’t all that different, you just need to get to know each other better. Actually, Eren thinks that you might make a good couple if you both stopped overthinking it.

“So, what’s the deal with you and (_____)?” Eren asks, bending his right knee to wrap his arm around his leg and rest his chin on top of it, “You act like she kicked your cat.”

“What?” Armin questions, flustered, “What—no, she wouldn’t touch Soup.” 

Eren quirks an eyebrow at that. “I still can’t believe you named your cat Soup.”

“It’s technically a nickname.”

“A nickname for what?”

“…For Miso Soup.”

Eren blinks. “Okay, if she didn’t mess with Soup, then what’s the issue? You scared of her or something?”

“Why would I be scared of her?” Armin asks, tone incredulous; then softer, more subdued, like a kid who doesn’t want to admit they’re wrong, “’M not scared of her.”

“You stare at her like you are—well, you look kind of angry, but also scared. Like, when you see those balloon things outside of car washes. You hate them, but you can’t look away from them—”

“I am not scared of those!”

“You are, and it’s okay,” Eren waves away his friend’s denial, “Oh, I get it—is this one of those things where she makes you nervous, so you respond with anger and sarcasm instead of thinking through your feelings?”

“You’ve been going to therapy for one month, relax.”

“Maybe you two should go to friend therapy and work this out,” Eren bites back, “It probably doesn’t help that she’s always with Annie. They both look like they would murder someone with no remorse. I admit, it is kind of scary… but it’s kind of hot, too.”

Armin spares him an unamused glare. Eren crosses his arms in defense, “What? I’m not wrong. It’s sexy in a scary kind of way, maybe that’s why you’re always eye fucking. I don’t blame you, she’s hot. I would let her and Annie axe-murder me without regret.”

“Eren?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and do problem six, I don’t have all day.”

Eren huffs, but flips the page to the next problem, grumbling under his breath as he attempts the, “It’s not as sexy when you’re mean, you know.”

Armin hits him silent.

Tuesdays are Armin’s favorite days because he only has one class. Sure, it’s three hours long, but it’s much more bearable than his usual eight-hour day.

It’s also the one class he shares with you. Which is why he’s always mentally exhausted by the end of it, but physically, he feels like he could punch a wall; all his pent up anger and frustration is channeled into his body and he’s desperate for an outlet for it. It’s a feeling he hates to love.

Annie seems to have cut class today seeing as she’s not next to you; and it’s almost as if it’s emboldened you to mess with him even more than usual.

He bites his tongue as Dr. Zöe enthusiastically uses your latest point as a segue into the final topic of the evening. He made that same point ten minutes ago. You just worded it differently—admittedly, more concisely, but somehow with a little more nuance, than when he had hesitantly proposed it—and, yeah, maybe you made it sound more convincing, but that didn’t mean that he didn’t come up with it first. If his stupid, fancy stylus didn’t cost upwards of $200 he might have snapped it in half.

You’re definitely the better conversationalist, that much he can admit. Words have never been his forte and he hates the way you can talk circles around him, and that there’s so little he can say to make you stop.

He wishes you would just shut up. In fact, he’d like to shut you up himself.

Thankfully, class ends sooner rather than later. Armin finds himself briefly talking with Dr. Zöe afterwards, most other students having taken the opportunity to leave early for the night. To nobody’s surprise, you’re not one of them, having stuck around to talk to the professor, too.

“The two of you should consider lab research this summer,” Dr. Zöe suggests ardently, walking between the two of you as you exit the lecture hall, “I could really use two students like you!”

Armin chuckles at his boisterous professor. He’s known about the research opportunities at their lab for quite some time now, and he knows that you have, too. “I don’t know that lab work is really my strong suit.”

The three of you come to stop at the hallway intersection, the professor now standing across from you and him. You give them a polite smile, “And I’m not sure that collaboration is mine.”

Armin spares a glance just in time to see you flash one of your own in his direction. Dr. Zöe’s eyes flicker between the two students rapidly, a slight squint to their eyelids.

They aren’t quite sure why their two brightest students seem to despise each other. They wish you two would just get along already, so that they don’t have to spend the summer training half-witted chemical engineering majors how to use basic lab equipment; and instead, conduct some actual research.

“Well, I hope the both of you reconsider,” they smile, “I’ll see you during office hours, I presume?”

You two nod in sync, sending the doctor off with happy smile, just long enough until you see that they’ve turned the corner further down the hall

“Had fun stealing my point earlier?” Armin questions, looking your way as you still wave mindlessly, eye-twitching at your polite façade.

“I would call it improvement,” you tell him, not bothering to turn in his direction; still and smiling waving like the professor can see or hear you, “You should stick to showing, rather than saying. You never were good with your words.”

Armin kisses his teeth together. He’ll give you what you want, if that’s how you want it.

In a fit of irritation, he grabs your moving hand by the wrist, and pulls you down the opposite hallway, not caring for your dramatic wailing behind him.

“Hey, Einstein, the exit is the other way, do you have any idea where we’re going?”

“Ever heard of observational learning? Maybe if you shut up for a second, you would figure it out,” he snaps, pulling you further.

There’s a door on the left that Armin knows is unlocked, and he’s quick to open it and pull you inside. Before you have the chance to glance around, he has you pushed up against the wall, jaw forced up and forward.

He could scoff at the small hitch in your breath at his actions, clearly a little too satisfied with being manhandled; but instead, he takes the opportunity to press your lips together. Armin quite likes the feeling of your lips on his; warm and soft and far too welcoming; a rare moment of silence.

“Someone could hear us.”

Or not so silent.

“Then be quiet,” he snarls.

Armin feels your fingers weave themselves into his hair, scraping along his undercut in sync with his lips trailing down your jaw. A groan falls from his when he feels you tug at the ends of the strands, just hard enough to force his face back to eye level with yours.

“You’re the one with the big mouth.”

“You’re so smart, huh. Always got something to say,” Armin lets out a low chuckle, deft fingers running down your sides to squeeze at your waist, “You can be really fuckin’ annoying, you know that.”

You mirror half of his ministrations, letting your right hand trail down his chest barely brushing over the very visible bulge in his jeans, before hooking your index finger under the belt loop, effectively pulling him closer to you.

The smile on your face is dirty, but you’re not laughing like he was, “Do something about it then.”

His blue eyes grow cloudy as he takes a good look at you; slowly rakes over your features, from that stupid, snarky look in your eyes, to your kiss-bruised lips, down to your chest, and back up again. Armin finds himself copying your smirk for all the wrong reasons. But it’s your own fault; you always did like to push him one step over the edge.

“Fine.”

Despite your twisted grin there’s a look in your eyes that’s eager; willing; ready for the taking. That same look you have when you talk over him in class; when you pretend to ignore him around your mutual friends; when you want him to fuck you stupid.

Armin uses his right hand to cup your jaw again, closing the distance between your mouths with a less than gentle kiss. He feels your groans reverberating through his body, waves of heat accompanying them and going straight to his erection. Your arch your back into the kiss, but he forces you backwards, left hand flat against your tummy.

Following suit, he pushes himself against your body, pressing his knee between your legs; the thin fabric of your stockings doing little to prevent your thighs from rubbing against him.

He swipes his tongue over the seam of your lips, earning a frenzied whine when glides his tongue across yours, and teasingly licks at the roof of your mouth. Your tongue is lithe against his, but somehow just as deceptive and sly as always, and Armin would be a fool to deny that he loved it.

There’s a spark flickering in his stomach when you push your center harshly against his; and it’s only ignited further when he feels you bite his bottom lip. A guttural growl escapes him, his right hand moving to your throat with practiced ease, pushing the back of your head into the wall.

He pauses for a moment, drinks in your wide eyes and desperate visage, “You are the single most frustrating person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

And he couldn’t get enough of it if he tried. He couldn’t get enough of you.

You must see through his words, into the grainy expression of adoration in his eyes, because he can see it filtering into yours, pupils dilating with both want and care.

“Aw, baby, I love you, too,” you pout, leaning forward as best to can to peck him on the lips, “Now, shut me up and fuck me. It’s exhausting being this pretty and smart-mouthed, you know.”

Armin dips his head into your neck, squeezes against the column of your throat with warning until he hears a gasp escape from your lips. He presses gentle kisses into your skin, in stark contrast to the increasing pressure from his fingers, waiting for one last request, and then, finally—“Please.”

He smiles, loosens his grip for a moment, just long enough to hear your pretty panting, before slotting his lips against yours again. Your moans are lewd and sloppy and breathless between kisses, and it makes his dick twitch in his pants. You really are so fucking loud. And he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He uses his free hand to push your skirt up, and subsequently dip past the weak barrier of your tights and underwear. The slightest flicker of his fingers against your center has you choking out a moan, and Armin is forced to press his right thumb harder against your neck.

“Quiet,” he reminds you, “You asked nicely, so I’ll give you what you want. No need to be loud about it.”

He watches you nod with short and restricted movements, a sadistic kind of power washing over him at your eager compliance. He uses his middle finger to rub slow, careful circles around your clit; the feeling of your wet cunt against his fingers, coupled with your wanton moaning only spurs on the throbbing in his pants.

“Armin,” you whine, impatiently; but he expected that of you, “Don’t tease.”

His eyes flash to yours briefly, pressing his lips to yours again to swallow your shuddered moans. He dips his tongue into your mouth at the same time he does his middle finger into your cunt. An obscene moan echoing through the classroom, as Armin feels your body arching into his again; feels your fingers frantically flying to his hair, searching for purchase to anchor yourself on.

He pulls away in time to add another digit and watch you groan underneath him. He pushes both his fingers in to the knuckle, carefully curling them upwards to elicit the prettiest sound out of you. He has to admit, it’s probably his favorite thing to hear come out of your mouth.

He keeps a steady pace, pumping his fingers in and out of your pussy with perfect friction, teetering between letting you moan his name and choking you silent. Your hands are frantic in his hair, grasping and pulling and so, so, desperate, Armin can’t help but to finger fuck you harder.

“You want one more?” he questions, but his voice is taunting, words ghosted over your lips just out of reach for you to kiss.

He can feel your leg trembling against his, see you pupils shaking along with your shaking head. Armin stops to smile; he thought you might do that. He could probably make you cry right now if he wanted to. Maybe later.

“Want you to fuck me,” your words short and ragged, eyebrows raised when he uses his thumb to press lightly against your clit, “Armin, please.”

The blonde shakes his head, “You’re dumber than you look if you think I’m gonna fuck you in a classroom, baby, so if you want to cum now, you better tell me.”

You have the audacity to pout of all things, “You’re mean.”

Armin lets out a breathless laugh. “You like it,” he leans forward to peck you sweetly, “So, what’ll it be?”

“Fine, but I want head later, too,” you tell him, words becoming less firm when Armin teases his ring finger against your slit, “Please.”

Armin hums in compliance, leaning forward to kiss you again, this time with more tact, and he chases your whines when he finally pushes a third finger inside of you.

“Look at you,” he croons breaking your kiss and forcing your head back again, “You take it so well.”

“Ah—fuck, there, Armin—there,” you cry, wet heat squeezing around his fingers in intermittent spasms.

Armin watches your chest heave with desperate breaths, air stuttering to pass from your lips to your lungs with his hand around your neck. He can feel your walls constricting around his fingers, feel your body shaking underneath him when he increases his pace. He curls his fingers again, just right, just until he hears you sing a strained call of his name. And when he feels your nails scraping down the nape of his neck, and the slight weight of your body convulsing, Armin knows you’re done for.

He’s nice enough to fuck you through your orgasm, shallow thrusts of his fingers bringing you to and down from your high as he watches you pant for him. He presses small kisses against your throat, up, up, up, until he’s kissing you, and carefully pulling his fingers out.

He removes his hand from your neck, and slides it down your waist to offer you support. He’s not prepared for your sudden pull on his neck, forcing him into a kiss that conveys your content; he’s quick to raise his left hand, palm meeting the wall to hold himself up against your sporadic actions, chuckling lightly into your kiss. You were always so reckless and happy after an orgasm.

You kiss him like you have him wrapped your finger despite being the one pleading moments ago. You do, so he supposes it’s not unwarranted; and he welcomes your flirtatious kisses despite the annoying blush they always bring forth.

And sure enough, he can feel his face on fire when you pull away. Armin scoffs internally at himself; he really should be able to keep it together around you by now. But when you kiss him like that, you kind of make it hard to think straight.

“You’re so good when you’re not… pretending to be good,” you hum, a blissful, hazy look on your features as you wrap your arms around his neck.

Armin shakes his head with a chortle of disbelief; leans forward to kiss you again, “’M not pretending. I am good.”

“Yeah, you’re such a good little saint that arguing with your girlfriend turns you on,” you taunt him, “It’s okay, Armin, you can admit it.”

He groans, out of shallow annoyance this time, and it makes you giggle. “Why are you acting like you’re not complicit in this?”

“Oh, no, no, no,” you refute with an exaggerated roll of your eyes, “You get turned on by hearing me talk about biochemistry. I like it when you tell me to shut up about it. We are not the same.”

“Yeah, because you look hot doing it,” he tells you, “Speaking of which, Eren called you hot today, so I kind of need you to slip a neurotoxin in his Gatorade.”

“Aw, Eren thinks I’m hot? Tell him I think he’s hot, too,” you bat your eyelashes at him, but Armin only offers you an unimpressed glare in return.

“I think he might be onto us, actually,” Armin notes, affectionately bumping his nose against yours.

“If he’s onto us, then it’s because you’re the one giving it away, not me.”

“Oh, because you could never do anything wrong, right?”

“Right,” you flash him an overconfident smile before reaching up to kiss to the tip of his nose, “See you’re so smart, baby.”

Armin shakes his head again in disbelief. You’re a handful, he can see that much.

“Come on,” he prompts, “We should go, I still have to finish my lab write up, and I know you haven’t started your paper.”

Armin tries to motion you forward, but is stopped when he feels your hand combing through his hair, and sees the genuine spark of concern in your eyes. “The one for your elective? I thought you said you were going to finish it on Monday.”

“I was,” Armin admits, “But then I didn’t.”

“You want me to help you with it?” you offer kindly, pushing his bangs back and letting your hands fall down the sides of his face, palms resting against his ears.

He nods gently, turning his head to press a kiss into your left palm, before wrapping his hand around your wrist, “I can help you outline your paper.”

You nod in return, and Armin spares one more kiss, before pulling your hand away to lace your fingers together.

Thankfully, nobody’s around to catch you exiting the classroom, or see you holding hands as you make your way out of the building and towards the bus stop. This was Armin’s favorite part of any Tuesday; the one time he could hold your hand on campus without the fear of getting caught by your friends.

He reasons that you guys should probably tell them soon, though, especially if Eren might have an idea of what’s going on. You were bound to get caught sooner rather than later. That, or Eren and Sasha would start meddling.

“If you think Eren knows, then Mikasa definitely knows,” you note, swinging your intertwined hands as you walk through the parking lot as a shortcut.

“Maybe if you actually remembered to hide Soup’s toys, there would be less evidence for her to piece together.”

“Yeah, well, maybe if you didn’t forget when your midterms are, I wouldn’t have to emergency cat sit the hour before Mikasa comes around, and there wouldn’t be any toys to hide in the first place.”

“I’m bad with dates, you know that!” Armin pouts, “I don’t say anything when you forget about ten page papers until four hours before they’re due.”

“You’re saying something right now, actually.”

“That’s not what I—you know, you’re so—”

Armin’s quiet when he feels your lips pressed against his cheekily, “Annoying. I know. You like it. You’re not very good at staying mad for very long.”

Armin’s tempted to roll his eyes yet again—he really needs to quit it, or at the very least, get your own temper under control before it’s irreversible and completely rubbed off on him—but takes the opportunity to kiss your forehead, instead.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.”

Your eyes twinkle under his affections. “And that you love me?”

He nods, “And that I love you.”

“And that you’re gonna fuck me before you make me write my paper when we get home, right?”

Armin chuckles and presses another kiss to your forehead, “We’ll see about that one.”

Hange huffs as they make their way through the parking. They always forget their keys in their office, and always, inconveniently park half-way across the campus. In their defense, this parking lot is free, and the one closest to the Medical Sciences building is not. So, really, capitalism is the one to blame for their frequent late night car lot strolls.

They hear two familiar voices bickering just as they’re about to step into their car, and are more than surprised to see their two favorite students walking together. Walking together and holding hands. Wait—you and Armin are walking together and holding hands?

Hange blinks for a moment, drowning out the sounds of the conversation after they see you two kiss. Their jaw practically falls to the asphalt and they might not blink for a full two minutes as they process what they just saw.

Their trance is broken when it finally, finally clicks together, and Hange has to try their hardest to contain their squeals before sitting in the driver’s seat, an overly forceful slam to the car door following. They waste no time fumbling with the pockets of their lab coat to fish out their phone, and make a call to their favorite math professor.

“Levi, I told you Arlert and (_____) had to know each other outside of class! I think they might be dating! You know what this means, right? I can have them both in the same lab without worrying they might start a chemical fire, and I won’t have to hire two brick heads this summer!”

Levi has never hung up a call more quickly in his life.

#aot x reader #snk x reader #armin x reader #aot imagines #snk imagines #armin smut #armin fluff #eren x reader