#still. build your own. i will send you a list of parts to get. but if not. get this | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

prof-peach · 22 hours ago

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Bit ooc but I have a question. How you do go about planing out your PLA comic? Like how do you actually turn your ideas/ storyline into comic form? Is it chapter to chapter or do you have the whole idea already planned out? Trying to find my own way in comic making so I’m just wondering if you could give any advice. Feel free to ignore if you don’t feel comfortable answering

So, at first this was al i could think to send.

because its incredibly accurate to my process.

Jokes aside, a lot of how i work is back and forth chaos, fighting with ideas until im happy with them. I will start with a list (usually not written down because im unhinged and keep a ot of it in my brain) and organise it in a way that makes sense to the situation, in this case workign with a game with an established plot...not that its a very strong one.

with a set of ideas, and a game to work around i will ramble and rant to a few choice people who i bounce well off, and also stare into space for hours on end building the ideas. This process can be days, it can be years. For context, i have some notes from 2019 about things i wanted to include that are still relevant. I have been scheming how to break and rebuild this OC for ages. Theres no correct time frame, so long as you simply do the work.

Once i have a fairly loose plan, i start to solidify the benning and the end. What is required to make a character compelling, what makes them believable, what makes them human in a way that we recognise. this isnt always a positive thing, people like to call characters who do bad things problematic, but its human nature to make mistakes and be damaged or difficult, the process of the story is not always rainbows and sunshine. For me, this hits even harder, as im trying to tell a story from the perspective of someone fundamentally broken, so showing those breaks and cracks has to be done wisely.

This is the point where i make notes about things that need to change from the start to the end. And ill say one thing, this story in particular, I have not solidly planned the middle. I am allowing space for me to come up with new ideas at points. Being locked into a dead set of ideas can be quite limiting, and as creators we consume and process things constantly to generate new stories. Id be a fool to make a plan and stick to it. everything i do is vague guidelines.

However, I know exactly how the story ends in Hisui, and where it goes to from there. And i think me personally knowing the end goal makes it easier to plot steps towards that, and some of those steps are anything but progressive.

If nothing else, the end was the only thing i saw clearly, and it has only become more complex and loaded and emotional as the rest of this has fallen into place. If you can see the goal, you can work out how to get there with time.

Regarding the chapters, i tend to draft plan up like 3-4 of them at a time, and then go in order to sketch out one after the other, so i have plenty of time to change things while i adjust. its constantly a process of seeing what you make, seeing issues, and scrapping whole parts just to redraw something better or new, unique even. I dont think a single page ive posted has resembled the very VERY first draft thumbnail ive made, and thats just how i do. Every panel, how big they are, the angle you hand the viewer, the way you light things, the expressions, this all dictates SO SO much.

Taking time over it is kind of the job, and let me stress, this is normally a job done by a team, especially the highly popular comics. one inks, one colours, one shades, one handles text, one edits, theres so many people behind it, so dont be bothered by the pace at which things are made if youre working alone like i am. One person means longer production times, if you can, spread the workload out, but its not required. Its why i always say it doesnt matter how long it takes to make, so long as youre still making.

I think its also worth noting, comics are consumed quickly, the bakcgournds and small details can be lost in the ace of the storytelling, pick and choosing your battles is wise, save your time on panels where you want the reader to shift along quicker, keep that pace high, and add in more detail and depth to panels you want to champion or get the viewers to hang around on more. its ok to let go of a "perfect" image in favour of getting content out, if youre being driven nuts by it. Again, time be damned, be happy with it. And if you can let go of petty details, id suggest doing it when possible, so long as it doesnt effect the storytelling.

I mean what else can i even say. This work is a passion project, I love it, more than i can even put into words, and i think you kind of have to, to make comics without monetary motivation. sure you can get lucky and find ways to make it big, but for most of us, its the love of the story. So maybe try not to be your biggest hater, its easy to slip into the behaviour, so try be gentle on yourself and the process. I should take that advice myself haha! but i really do mean it. This is HARD work, so be kind to yourself over it.

anyway, with a rough idea, a bunch of sketches, and time, they get inked and fussed over, i make a billion changes to layout and story, and eventually posting can happen but not after fighting with the monster that is creating. Idk what else i can say. This is not work for the feint of heart, but anyone can learn to do it.

Good luck, comic artists can always use it!

#ooc

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mazovian · 10 months ago

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really my fixation on gaming PC components for the past like year has been insane. it is unsafe for anyone around me to mention buying a pre-build and i'm actively fighting against dropping a few hundred bucks on unnecessary watercooling and i've convinced nearly everyone in my life who would be open to it to let me build them a PC. worst of all- I've spent way too much time on reddit. Year in a review for 2023 for me really revolves around me getting really into Bjork and PC parts.

#if anyone is wondering. literally the only decent value prebuild PC right now is the $800 Walmart Cyberpower with a ryzen 5500 and rx 6700 #still. build your own. i will send you a list of parts to get. but if not. get this

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crushmeeren · 1 year ago

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♡ Todoroki/Fem Reader

♡ Master List Link

⇢ Everyone involved in this fic is aged up/18+.

⇢ Warnings; cursing, making out, dirty talk, Shouto is a champ at eating pussy/ass, fingering, vaginal sex, Shouto is a little subby in this

♡ Authors Note; I had to complete the headcannons for my favorite three MHA boys sooner rather than later. I love Shouto, he deserves all the good things and a lot of hugs.

Shouto who comes off as cold, uninterested, a giant dick — but who is so sweet and so loving it makes your teeth ache. Who is the kind of person that writes down facts about you so he doesn’t forget — you accidentally stumbled upon the list in his notes app and promptly cried.

Shouto who never ceases to buy extra of what he’s eating so you can have some too, even if you weren’t hungry in the first place.

Shouto who doesn’t understand social cues very well. Who tilts his head adorably when he’s confused. Who wears a blank, spaced out expression on his face often when he’s unsure of what’s going on.

Shouto who lets you teach him how to read the room a bit easier, to understand body language and tone. Whose pretty smile could melt icy glaciers with its tender warmth. Who is so comfortable with you he makes all sorts of facial expression, which you take as a triumphant win.

Shouto who you met in high school but didn’t date until after graduation. Who you crossed paths with while battling a villain and you caught mid air as he was nose diving from the top of a building. Who was probably a bit delirious because he swears he saw you with a halo, because he “fell in love with an Angel that day.”

Shouto who loves to drink strawberry milk. Who has so many cartons cluttering the fridge in your home it drives you nuts. Who compulsively brings you a glass when he’s drinking some because he’s learned he can show you he loves you by sharing what enjoys. It’s so cute when you get a glass out of nowhere.

Shouto who decides to be a bit “rebellious” after he gets out of high school. Who decides to cut his hair shaggy and short. Who gets a nose ring, pierces his ears and acquires a tongue ring. Who is with you when you get your own body modifications, and often wears jewelry that reminds him of you.

Shouto who claims his absolute favorite thing in the world is to snuggle up with you on the couch. Especially when it’s raining and the two of you are wrapped up in a fluffy blanket burrito, watching movies and napping. If it turns X rated, well who can blame you?

Shouto who is a dry texter. We’re talking Sahara Desert dry. Who does still take the time to send you pictures of things you love while he’s out on patrol, especially of dogs that he encounters. Who gets so happy when you respond in kind, forming your own language with one another.

Shouto who tends to wear a streetwear style when he’s not working. Who likes to wear matching clothes with you. Who even bought you both a pair of matching underwear with your faces on them. You’re unable to resist, you’re technically sitting on his face all day… right??

Shouto who is terrible at almost every video game, but who can annihilate anyone at Mario Kart. You’re definitely not bitter about that. Funnily enough, the best part of game night when everyone is over is watching Bakugou lose his mind when Sho decimates repeatedly.

Shouto who has remained tight knit with Midoriya. Who considers the man as his brother by extension, and who you’ve grown close to as well. Who goes to the #1 hero for help planning you a surprise party by sending Midoriya a series of increasingly concerning emojis until he agrees.

Shouto who loves to eat peach gummy rings. Who you have, on more than one occasion, woken up to eating the candy at 2:00 am. Who offers you one, which you casually eat and go back to bed. Who memorizes your favorite candy and leaves it for you to find everywhere.

Shouto who has told you the story of how he got his burn scar. About his father, his brother and all the horrors of his past. Who opened up to you, willingly sharing a side of himself others don’t get the privilege to see.

Shouto who has taken you to meet his family, to meet his mother. Who added you to the group chat with all his siblings, which is unbelievably entertaining. Who tries to fit his face with more than one expression when he meets your parents, but you make sure he knows he’s perfect for you just the way he is.

Shouto who loves you unconditionally. Who is your soul mate, your best friend. Whose love for you has grown bigger than a California Redwood tree. Who becomes your husband, who you love more than life itself. You’d start a goddamn war for this man.

Shouto who enjoys kissing. Who loves to lazily make out with you. Whose cock starts twitching in his briefs when the kiss turns messy. Whose lips get slick and puffy as they press together consistently with yours. Who eagerly slips his tongue into your mouth, sucking on it and sinking his teeth into your bottom lip so roughly it stings.

Shouto who likes to spread you out on your back in bed, stripping you until your only in one of his large T-shirts. Who leers at you when he pushes it up your belly, gently letting it catch on your tits until he can watch them fall and bounce. Who makes you keep the shirt up around your collarbone when he sucks on your nipples.

Shouto who bites the skin on your sternum, plush lips tickling your belly as he makes his way to your pussy. Who grips the bottoms of your thighs and presses them backwards to your chest. Who stares at you with heavy lidded eyes as he licks from your pussy to your clit, making sure to swirl the cold metal of his tongue ring around it.

Shouto whose eyes flutter closed while he eats you out. Who makes you cry out when he sucks your clit, tongue ring passing over it with each methodical swipe of his tongue. Who praises you murmuring “your pussy is amazing angel, will you let me eat your ass? pretty please?”

Shouto who strips you both. Whose flushed cock stands full and heavy when you see it. Who flips you, yanking your ass in the air and shoving your face into the sheets. Who spanks you unforgivingly and grips the thick flesh of your ass to spread you open. Who chills his tongue ring even more and kitten licks at your rim until you want to scream.

Shouto who shoves two fingers in your pussy without warning. Who curls and thrusts them as he sucks on your rim until you cum so hard you see stars. Who pulls away from you, stroking himself for relief and speaks with a wrecked voice pleading “I want to put my cock in you so badly, can I please princess?”

Shouto who is aware you’re a pillow princess, but has hearts in his eyes, cheeks flushing bubblegum pink when you tell him you’ll ride him for a bit. Who props his back up against the headboard with a couple pillows, allowing you to flip around so your back faces him. Who holds your wrists behind your back as you ride him, letting out delicate and whiny moans while you make his toes curl.

Shouto who spreads you with his free hand, eyes glued as his cock disappears into your pussy while you bounce in his lap. Whose dick throbs, breathing hitching when you throw your head back and you moan “fuck Shouto, your cock is so good, you’re gonna make me cum!”

Shouto who reaches his limit, pushing you off his cock and onto your back whispering filthy praise in your ear. Who grips his shaft, teasing your clit with the tip before slipping his dick all the way back inside with one fluid roll of his hips.

Shouto who bends you in half, hooking your knees over his shoulders and folding you into a mating press. Who fucks you roughly, hips curling up with the intention to bully your g-spot. Who makes sure you feel each drag of his cock, coaxing you into cumming with a handful of strokes. Who gets you to cum over and over, little water balloons of warm pleasure popping and coursing through you.

Shouto who produces low moans when your pussy squeezes his cock. Who desperately pleads with you to cum one more time because he can’t hold on for much longer.

Shouto who makes you feel dizzy as you chase your pleasure once more while folded as a pretzel. Who cums instantly when your sweet cries hit his ears, praising and encouraging him all at once. Who pushes into the hilt, grinding against you as he bursts at the seams, panting to catch his breath.

Shouto who giggles with you as he untangles your limbs. Who flops down beside you, lacing your fingers together as you enjoy the leftover bliss.

Shouto who eventually gets up to clean you both. Who finds the shirt you were previously wearing and some clean panties for you to wear. Who pulls you into a hug, murmuring how much he loves you, planting kisses all over your face. Shouto who then goes to the kitchen and brings you a glass of strawberry milk.

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moonstruckme · 2 months ago

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apple pie - send a character + a prompt off this list and I’ll write a drabble

congrats mae!! love the new theme and all your fics xx could i get sirius black and 10?

Thank you angel <3

¹⁰⁾ a six pack of beer and an apology

cw: alcohol, reader is implicitly introverted and/or shy

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 744 words

Sirius finds you on the roof of his building. It’s a nice roof, not because of the roof itself—that’s pretty disgusting, actually, scattered with beer cans and smelling of piss from parties gone by—but because of the view. The trees and bricks of his neighborhood, giving way after a few blocks to city lights and black sky.

You’re silhouetted against it all, sitting on the edge of the roof with your feet dangling over the pavement. You have a six pack of beer sitting beside you with one missing.

“Are you planning to drink all of those by yourself?” Sirius asks as he sits down on your other side, the beers between you.

You startle a little, and his muscles tense, ready to snatch you away from the edge. Sirius sits there like that all the time, but it makes him twitchy when you do it. When you realize it’s only him, your sigh is half relieved and half exasperated. Maybe there’s a little bit of fondness in there, too.

“No,” you reply, “but I wanted to have the option.”

“Sound.” Sirius grabs one for himself, popping the tab with a hiss.

You keep looking out into the distance while he takes a couple of slow sips. He never knows what exactly you’re doing when you get like this. Sometimes you’ll be quiet for so long he thinks you must be entirely in your own head, but then you’ll say something like “I think that couple on that stoop has just been on their first date. See how nervous they are?” and he’ll realize you’ve been paying attention all along.

Now, he knows you’re only waiting for him to own up.

“I’m sorry,” Sirius says, “for luring you here under false pretenses.”

“You told me it was a small dinner.”

“There is food down there, if you go looking…”

“This is a party, Sirius.”

“You wouldn’t have come if I’d told you it was a party.”

You take a sip of your beer, looking like you might be trying to hide a smile. “No,” you agree.

“Then I lied.” He tests his luck, tossing you a grin meant to coax out your own. “I’m not sorry.”

“I knew it,” you mutter, but there’s no real malice in your voice. Sirius leans over, bumping his shoulder into yours.

“I wanted to see you.”

You give him a look. “You could see me any night.”

“I wanted to see you tonight,” he amends. “I had to get you here somehow.”

You sigh, leaning into him in turn. “I’m sorry if I’m keeping you from your party.” You cringe. “Or being rude to your friends.”

“Don’t be silly, nobody minds. They all love you anyway, and now that I’ve been gone for more than five seconds James will have seized the opportunity to change the music. They’ll all be having a grand time.”

You smile, turning your face down so your hair almost covers it. But Sirius won’t be robbed of the sight; he hooks your hair on a finger, slotting as much as he can behind your ear.

Your eyes meet his. “I like your music,” you tell him.

Sirius beams. “And that’s why I like you, gorgeous. Well,” he hedges, “part of why. There’s also your personality, I suppose.”

“Stop.” You give him what he supposes is meant to be a stern look, but it’s only heart-wrenchingly cute.

“And your lovely ass, can’t forget that.”

You turn your face entirely away from him, but your shoulders shake silently. Now that Sirius has you laughing, he decides to push his luck one more time.

“Do me a favor?” He asks. You look over, still fighting your smile. “Come back inside. You can sit with Remus—he adores you, and he’ll be happy to have someone he doesn’t need to make small talk with. In an hour I’ll kick everybody out, and it’ll be just us for the rest of the night. Okay?”

You tug on your bottom lip with your teeth, mulling it over. “Yeah,” you say after a minute, “okay. Just give me a minute and I’ll head down.”

“Thanks, sweetheart.” Sirius leans over, capturing your lips with his. He makes it good and persuasive, but in all honesty he’s probably as wobbly as you are when he pulls away. “And will you do one more thing for me, please?”

“Um.” You look a bit dazed. “Sure.”

“Get down off the edge. You’re freaking me out.”

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yoditopascal · 3 months ago

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Like A Prayer (Part 3)

summary: best friends with wade you’re always being dragged into something even when he’s not trying to, what are you to do when you find the fate of your timeline in the hands of yourself, your chaotic merc and an angry wolverine who’s hellbent on drinking himself to death?

content warnings: romance, some angst, a little fluff, character deaths, canon-typical violence, smut, lots of cussing, mutual pining, found family, drug and alcohol use, reader insert but with no use of y/n cuz I hate that shit, deadpool being deadpool, mentions of poor mental health (depression anxiety and ptsd mostly), scent marking, the honda odyssey scene needs a warning all on its own MINORS DNI

a/n: slightly shorter but hopefully worth it! Comments and criticisms are welcome!

tag list: sorry if you weren’t tagged I tried tagging everyone that asked but some usernames didn’t work! @allmyn1ghts @blooket-scares-me @amararosesblog @talanyra @spideybv28

Previous Chapter//Next Chapter

Are You That Somebody?

The two of you stepped through portal after portal in search of the perfect Logan who was willing to help you save your timeline. The first one was a little too short for Wade’s liking, the next one too 80’s he had said, the one after that was too busy fighting the Hulk, the one after that too old, and the one after him…you couldn’t really think of anything to say about the one called Patch except that you found him the most attractive with his eyepatch out of all of them, unfortunately though he seemed to hate Wade the most.

Wade stopped as a portal closed behind you both, as he approached a different Wolverine from behind, this one was alone in a garage and was working on his motorcycle with his back turned to you smoking a cigar.

“Now we’re talking.” He said rubbing his hands together like he was warming up. Every Wolverine so far has tried to kill him on the spot but had spared you for some odd reason, so he probably was preparing himself. “That’s the whole goddamn package right there.” He sounded like he was licking his lips under the mask.

This Wolverine was different, his build looked bigger than the other ones you had met, bulkier and he stood differently too as if he had more confidence in himself.

When he turns to get a good look at you both Wade lets out a girlish squeal as he covers his mouth with his hands.

“Oh, my fuck!” He shouts excitedly smacking you in the arm. “The Cavillrine! The legends are true.”

Now that this one was facing you, you could clearly see his face, he looked completely different from the others, still rugged but not as attractive to you. He looks you dead in the eyes and like all the others before him froze in place when he finally saw you, eyes unreadable as his nose flared.

It shocked you both when this Wolverine calls out your name, clear as day as Wade looks back and forth comically between you two incredulously. He steps forward towards you and you take a step back behind Wade, seeing first hand how violent Wolverine’s can be.

“Sorry to interrupt whatever the fuck that was but may I say, sir, on behalf of all humanity, this just feels right!” Wade says stepping in between you two, breaking the intense eye contact. “We will treat you so much better than those shit fucks down the street.”

“You were just leaving.” This Wolverine snaps calmly as he flicks his wrist, reloading his arms and drawing his claws. With a hard smack of his arm he miscalculates and sends Wade flying into you, through another portal he had opened up at the last minute behind you.

The impact of his body sent you barreling into a pool table as you both flew out of the portal. Messing up whatever game they had going on, a few patrons of the dingy bar you were now in glared at the two of you angrily, one being so bold as to step up to you before Wade stands up grabbing the irate man by his neck, almost instantly putting him to sleep.

Pulling you to your feet, you dusted yourself off from being on the grimy floor and readjusted your clothes. It was getting late, you had no idea how many hours you guys had left but you still hadn’t found a suitable Wolverine to replace your own yet and your chest was starting to tighten up in desperation and fear.

Looking to say something to Wade you realize while you were lost in yourself he had walked off, and instead was going up to a man at the bar. This one you could instantly recognize from behind from his hair tufts alone.

He had found another Wolverine and by the looks of his slouched shoulders this one was neck deep in an alcohol induced pity party.

You followed behind Wade just reaching the bar when the bartender came and took the cup from Wolverine looking equal parts annoyed and scared of the man in front of him. “I told you, you’re not welcome here, you’re not welcome anywhere. Now get the fuck out of my bar.” He said calmly not wanting to cause a big scene but still wanting to get his point across sternly.

“Just give me one more drink and I’ll leave.” The Wolverine answered as he looked down at where his cup had been, he looked the part of a kicked puppy.

“That’s not how this works.” The bartender started again but was interrupted when Wade leaned on the counter beside Wolverine “It does now, leave the bottle thanks.” He says shooing the man away. The bartender stares at the three of you oddly before going off to wipe down another part of the bar, leaving you to it.

This Wolverine’s nose flares as he audibly inhales and snaps his head to look past Wade at you. Unlike with the others before him the emotions in his eyes were clear as day as he looked at you, or more like through you.

Shock, fear, guilt and then ultimately hate welled up in his hazel eyes as he snatched up the bottle of jack the bartender had left beside him talking a few gulps.

“I know you, bub?” He asked you with a hard voice, clearly he did or at least he knew some version of you from this timeline. “Cause you got a lot of fucking nerve wearing the face of a dead girl ‘round me.”

Dead? Were you dead in this timeline?

You open your mouth to speak but Wade cuts you off as he holds up a gloved finger to your lips shushing you.

“Look peanut, I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about, a lot of emotional turmoil to get out and eventually a heartfelt confession gets thrown into the mix followed by, judging from the sex eyes you’re giving each other, a whole lot of fucky fucky time but we’re kinda on a time crunch here so I’m gonna need you to come with us right now.” He said, nodding towards the door. You felt your cheeks heat up at his words, you loved Wade to pieces but sometimes you wish he’d keep his mouth shut.

“Look, lady, I’m not interested.” Wolverine said, tearing his glare away from you to stare down Wade, he thought his outfit looked absolutely ridiculous and that was saying something, then he felt his gaze drift back to you, taking in your scent again.

Not only did you look like her, only a little younger, but you even smelled like her too, albeit just a little bit different. That was something he knew deep in his gut that couldn’t be replicated no matter what copying powers you had, so how the fuck were you standing here in front of him when he himself had buried your dead body almost a year ago?

Snapping his attention back to the conversation, he hadn’t heard a word red had said to him.

“Why would I go with you?” He asked cutting Wade off as he took another sip from the bottle before drunkenly poking him in the forehead

“Because, unfortunately, I need you. We,” he emphasizes gesturing between the two of you, “Need you, our entire world needs you.”

“You guys gonna fuck or fight?” The bartender comes back looking between Wade and Wolverine, clearly tired of having you all in his establishment. Wade looks at the man like he had sprouted a second head before slowly turning back to Wolverine.

“You gonna take that from him?”

“Yup.” The Wolverine says, sounding defeated, like he was tired of even putting up a fight.

“I can tell you sort of have this ‘don’t get too close, I’ll only break your heart’ vibe going here, but every other Wolverine would have really hurt me by now and we’re sort of on the tic-tic, so upsy-daisy.” Wade said standing to his feet pulling Wolverine up from his barstool. He shoves Wade back away from him and you rush behind Wade to pull him away from him at the tell tale snikt sound of his claws coming out, only when you looked down at his balled fists you could only see just the tip of them peeking through his tanned skin, as if he had stopped himself midway from fully pulling them out.

“Whiskey dick with the claws huh? It’s quite common in Wolverines over 40.” Wade jokes half heartedly trying to diffuse the situation or make it worse, you weren’t quite sure.

“Trust me pal, you don’t want this.” The Wolverine said his voice husky as he stared you two down silently pleading for you to leave before he hurt you like he hurt the others.

Sighing heavily Wade pulls out a gun and presses it to Wolverine’s head “Unless you want to take a deep breath through your fucking forehead, I suggest you reconsider.” He gestured to the door with it. “Let’s go, Peanut.”

With a laugh the Wolverine leans into the gun’s muzzle staring right at Wade.

You had had enough. Walking around Wade you stand in between the two men, placing one arm on Wolverine's shoulder and the other on Wade’s arm silently asking him to lower his gun, which he did just ever so slightly, before turning your attention back to Wolverine.

“Look, Wade isn’t always the best at articulating what he needs without making it a joke, but we really do need your help.”

With a snort Wolverine shrugs off your burning touch from his shoulder, you were making him hot, too hot for the stuffy bar, so he reaches back over the bar to grab the bottle of jack again. God you even sounded just like her.

“We’ve been looking for you for a long time, Wolverine!”

“Don’t call me that.”

He hated it when you called him Wolverine.

“Please! Just please!” You cried out grabbing him by his sleeve, he turned to look at you again, his eyes searching your face.

“We really need you! You’re the only one who can fix this! Trust me I would take literally anybody other than you if I could,” you said, growing increasingly frustrated and irritated with the man in front of you.

Ouch.

“But it has to be you! So are you gonna be that somebody or not?”

The Wolverine gets closer to you, you can practically smell the alcohol and his natural musk radiating off of him at his close proximity. He looks at you for a long while as if mulling over what you had just said to him before answering with a “Not.”

“Oh you motherf-!”

You were cut off as Wolverine stands to his full height, towering over you. He grabs at the barrel of Wade’s gun, drunkenly to steady himself as he chuckles. He holds up a finger telling you both to wait as he proceeds to chug down the rest of the nearly full bottle of jack.

“Good God. Thirsty little honey badger, aren’t ya?” Wade looks at him in shock, just as Wolverine pulls the now empty bottle away and goes to reply he hiccups before stumbling and dropping to the ground completely dead to the world.

“I guess you’ll have to do.” Wade groans holstering his gun and going to grab the now passed out Wolverine by his shirt, just as he goes to lift he spots something yellow peeking from underneath.

“Ooh. Look at those jammies.” He said as he starts to unbutton the Wolverine’s shirt. “That only took 20 fucking years!”

Heaving him up on his shoulder Wade groans at the weight of his limp adamantium skeleton, and starts to drag him outside with you following close behind.

“Quick help me get his clothes off, Nugget!” He said dropping the man unceremoniously to the ground as he continued to unbutton his clothes.

“Wade what the fuck are you doing?!” You snap at his hands as he strips him down to his superhero costume underneath.

It was bright yellow with blue accents with light scuffs and scratches on it, it was tight to him, almost like a second skin, his gloved hands adorned with special slots for his claws to pop out, just like in your old comic books, you almost couldn’t tear your eyes away from him as they dragged down his body.

“Eye fuck him some more why don’t you.” Wade said suggestively and if he wasn’t wearing the mask you know he’d be wiggling his eyebrows at you.

You stutter trying to defend yourself as you feel your cheeks heat up. Ignoring you Wade stands back to his feet, slinging one of Wolverine’s arms over his shoulders as he shoulders his weight. Opening up the TVA device he stole, Wade types something in and opens up a new portal. “Save your lady boner for later Nugget we got a timeline to save!”

You wanted to stop him and tell him that the man he was carrying was insufferable even after only knowing him for a solid 10 minutes and that there was no way he’d have you hot in the pants with the way he was acting but your gut was overcome with a feeling of uncertainty.

A feeling that told you that going back to the TVA would be a trap, but knowing that like always once Wade had his mind set on something that was it, you simply tucked your much smaller self under Wolverine’s other shoulder and helped Wade through the portal.

#logan howlett imagine #logan howlett x reader #wolverine imagine #wolverine x reader #logan howlett #wolverine #platonic deadpool x reader #deadpool and wolverine #deadpool 3 #hugh jackman #SoundCloud #like a prayer

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krirebr · 11 days ago

Note

random hoeing:

Steve catching you in the rain, his white shirt completely soaked and transparent

Ok, this has to be Neighbor Steve.

Warnings: explicit language, more fluff than I normally do, completely unedited, 18+ - MINORS DNI

After Steve caught you ogling him during the heatwave, the tone of your conversations when you run into him in your building has gotten decidedly flirtier. But for whatever reason, that's where it's stopped. As much as you've tried to send signals that you are very open to more, he's never taken you up on it. Which is fine. It's fine. Totally fine. You are very cool with it. The thought of it definitely doesn't make you shrivel up inside. You are so cool.

All of that is the furthest thing from your mind right now, though, as you and your dog run through the rain. It'd been such a nice day, but as you hit the halfway point of your usual longer route, the sky unexpectedly opened up and you and your poor dog were hit by an absolute downpour. Now, finally home, you're both completely soaked and desperate to get inside and dry.

After some fumbling, you get the door to your building unlocked and opened. Just as you're about to get inside and let the door close behind you, you hear your name ring out. You turn around to see Steve hurrying up the path. "Hold the door!" he yells.

You freeze, doing as he asked. Holy shit. He's just as soaked as you, but while you're sure you look like a drowned rat, he very much does not. He– Well. He– He's wearing that damned white t-shirt again. Except it's not white now, it's translucent. You can see everything – that tattoo you spotted before, and a few more to go with it, an incredible set of abs, nipples. Holy shit.

He quickly ushers you inside, thank god, because you can't move on your own, your eyes still stuck to his chest. "Fuck, that came out of nowhere, huh?" he chuckles.

The moment you're out of the rain, your dog proceeds to do her best to shake herself dry, as if the three of you weren't already dripping all over the entryway. "Oh, shit," you mumble, reaching for her without really knowing what to do.

Steve just laughs. And then does it himself, shaking out his golden locks. Part of his hair flops down over his forehead, and you do your best to hold in your gasp. Really it's just so unfair that he could get caught in a rainstorm and come out looking like that. What the actual fuck? you think to yourself.

Except, judging by the way his head whips around to look at you, maybe you didn't think it. Maybe it was more out loud than you'd meant. Oh god. You immediately start babbling, which is unfortunately just as uncontrollable as the initial slip-up you're trying to make up for. "Oh, god, I'm so sorry. I just– I mean– Look at you!" You throw a wild gesture at him as he just stares at you with his mouth open, trying to take in your ramble. "It's cats and dogs out there and you look like that?? While I–" another wild gesture, at yourself this time. "I just– How is it fair that you're so beautiful??"

"You think I'm beautiful?" he finally manages to interject.

"Huh?" And that's when your brain finally catches up. Oh dear god. What is wrong with you?? You cautiously glance at him to find him staring at you, not upset, but like he's trying to figure you out. Fuck it, you suddenly think. You've already embarrassed yourself. You have nothing left to lose. "You wanna get dinner with me sometime?"

You swear that the smile that blooms on Steve's face is bright and warm enough to dry you both off. "I was starting to worry I was reading your signals wrong. Yeah. Yeah, I'd love to."

Your answering smile is strong enough to push all the clouds away.

☔

Thanks for the fun prompt, Eva!

Tag List

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24 @midnightramyeoncravings @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @ronearoundblindly @brandycranby @steviebbboi @missaprilt23

#ask kris #biteofcherry #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers #captain america #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers drabble #cevans characters #chris evans fanfiction #drabble #asks are always welcome

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 months ago

Text

Someone New 5

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include angst, pining, romcom tropes, and some darker elements later in the series. Some triggers may not be specifically tagged. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This fic will contain explicit content. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You’ve had a crush on your best friend for years, but you’re slapped in the face with reality when he takes things to the next level with his girlfriend.

Characters: Steve Rogers, Thor

Note: Tuesday! Ugh.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It’s nearly midnight in Norway by the time you’re free of the airport. The train station isn’t far; it’s part of the airport. You wait on a bench between the rails as your boarding is two hours away. You sit with your luggage and mope. This new land only adds to the gloom clinging to you.

You shiver as a draft flows down the tunnel. Not only is grey and grim, but it’s cold. It’s almost June but the weather is more akin to the cusp of winter and spring back home.

Your weeks of research couldn’t prepare you for the real things. All that anticipation could never compare to that moment of desolation; alone in this far land, away from everything you knew. Everything around you is new and foreign and unwelcoming.

When the train pulls up, you wait in queue with the other passengers. Some are native, speaking in lilted English or indecipherable Norwegian. Duolingo hasn’t done much for you as you catch only scraps of pronouns and verbs. Others are new arrivals like yourself but they seem much more certain of themselves. You feel utterly lost.

You show your ticket and board. You tuck your bag away with the larger pieces kept at the front of the carriage and hug your carry-on in your lap. You stare out the window as the train begins to roll on the tracks, screeching as it pulls out into the black night of this strange land.

The subtle rumble of the locomotive lulls you into a half-sleep. Your head is wrought with the ache of your building hangover and twisted visions of the life left behind. You hear Steve’s final goodbye, you feel the hug that was snugger on your end than his, and you feel the razor of Peggy’s spiteful eye. Even in a stupour, you can’t forget it. You hope Sam is right and that it will fade with time, yet you fear it might all be gone for good.

You wake as the automated voice announces your stop as the next one. You sit up and rub the sleep from your eyes. You’re trying to be optimistic. Just focus on work. That’s what this is all about. Everyone keeps saying it and you haven’t heard any of them. This is a great opportunity. What you’ve been hoping for all these years. How did you forget that?

You disembark and drag your bag behind your heavy feet. You’re exhausted but you still have a trek to go. Everything looks so different than back home. Small differences but enough to reinforce your displacement.

You find the rental car kiosk at the other end of the station and show your reservation. Work is paying for that too. Apparently, you’ll need it to get to the site. Another harbinger of desolation.

You hook up your phone to the built-in bluetooth and tap the address already saved in your maps. The app takes a moment to recenter and finally, you’re off. You wonder if you should even be driving. You’re definitely not drunk anymore but you’re barely awake.

It’s only an hours ride across the city, just along the ridges that look off onto the coast. It’s beautiful. You can see that even through your melancholy.

The morning rises as you get your key to the blue paneled townhouse. You should try to stay up to reset your clock but you’re jet lagged to the bone. The moment the door is locked, you let your bags fall to the floor and stumble through to the first piece of furniture you see. You collapse face first onto the couch, unable to feel the impact as you plummet into a deep sleep.

Time, space, and all your pain disappears. There is only the endless void of fatigue. Your mind is too tired to summon nightmares or nonsensical visions. Your body is so drained that even your brain is empty.

You wake on your arm, fingers tingling painfully as your shoulder muscles burn. You hiss and sit up. The bend of your fingers and a shaky attempt to move your elbow make you whine. Ugh. You rub feeling back into the limb as you lean against the back of the couch.

You look around, finally able to take it all in. The house is neat and sleek. White plaster and pale wood finishes. The couch you sit on is a sectional and there’s a match ottoman across from you. The TV mounted on the wall reflects the shadow of the archway behind you and the tall lamp in the corner and the stone and marble ornaments.

You rise, wobbling on your legs, and put your arms out to get your bearings. You meander through the townhouse. You can hardly admire the furnished interior as it underlines your loneliness. All this space for just you.

There’s a kitchen at the rear of the house, a large wooden island standing center to a fridge with a glass door and polished counters carved in granite. The tiles are pristinely placed diamonds in hexagons and a large window looks out into the rain-soaked yard. It’s night again, or maybe that’s what the daylight looks like here.

Upstairs, there’s a bedroom and a bathroom. A full tub and separate shower, two sinks set into a sparkling counter, and a wall of mirrors above them. It truly is a dream but why doesn’t it feel like it?

You amble down stairs and fish out your phone. The battery is at eight percent. You have several texts. All from Sam. You only remember then why you don’t see any from Steve. No, you won’t check.

You quickly type that you’ve landed safely and set the cell down. You’ll let it die before you plug back in. You need time. You need to get yourself straight. You need to accept that this is all real. You made this choice.

You’re starting over. It’s a new life and there’s no room for your heart here.

💟

You have the night to unpack, more than just your luggage. Still, there are things you can’t let out. Not yet. As much as the blade twists in your chest, taking it out will mean a deluge you can’t quell. For now, you just won’t think about it.

You sleep a few more hours and wake just before six. You have your bag ready to go for the day. You tie on your boots and pull on a lined jacket before braving the Norwegian summer. You lock the door behind you and yawn into the brisk air.

Before you head for the site, you stop at a cafe you see along the way. You get an egg biscuit and a coffee with extra espresso. You’re sure to add on a snack to eat between your work.

You drive towards the greater mountains and turn onto the road that angles up the side. You follow the curved ledge as the GPS guides you through the car speakers. The drive is two hours up, maybe a bit quicker on the way down. Suddenly, a ping sounds from the system and you glance at the screen; ‘signal lost’. Shoot. It’s okay. You think you’re almost there.

You pull over, not that there’s much space to do so. You have the physical maps you’ll use for the work itself. You find yourself amid the lines and symbols and memorise the path forward. You continue on cautiously, reassured as you’re met with a sign that delineates the site. The plot has already been closed off with a fence.

‘Grant land. No trespassing.’

You park just outside the fencing and grab your bag and your breakfast. You sit on the hood and eat as you look over the muddy site. You read the grant report. It’s here they think there was a settlement. Not a very big one but an important one.

The rock wall hugs the site in an almost perfect basin as the slick land is barren of almost any growth. You’ll start with gridding it all out, both with string and on paper. You clap your hands off and get up to begin. The process will keep your distracted.

You put your earbud in and set to task. You pause to sip coffee and mark the paper between planting the stakes and the string the twine to divvy it all up in squares. You watch where you put each step, the mud sucking at your treads. A wet site is never an easy one.

It takes the first day just to prep for digging and you don’t even think you’re done. You’re tired and achy and ready to go home. It’ll take you nearly three hours back by your guess. The night will be a short one as you figure you’ll need to head out earlier, especially if you hope to take advantage of the fleeting sunlight.

As you get back to the townhouse, it’s night again. You walk down to a fish restaurant just a block away. The faces are friendly and the food is good, but it all seems so bland. You eat and go back to your accommodation. Not home, just a place to lay your head.

You check your phone. Back amid the world of the living, you have a dozen messages; Sam, Bucky, your mom, Arturo. You respond to each of them in turn, assuring them that all is well. You don’t have the energy for much more.

Yet it isn’t up to you. Your phone chimes at you as you near the bed, sitting on the edge as you answer. You know with Sam that ignoring him will only make him worse.

“Hey,” you answer with an unrestrained yawn.

“Yo, how ya feeling?” he asks.

“Erm, tired,” you lean forward, crossing and arm over your knees. “How are things there?”

“Eh, usual. So, uh, did that paradise punch knock you on your ass too or am I getting old?” He chuckles.

“Heh, yeah, no I’m feeling it still,” you mutter.

“Mm, it’s late there...” he says, “sorry, if I’m keeping you up.”

“No, it’s fine. Just... a lot of driving.”

“Oh? You worked today?”

“Wanted to get a head start,” you shrug as you play with the fold of your pajamas across your knee.

“How is it? Is it bleak? Cold? Are the men gruff?”

“Uh, yeah, I guess. Grey. Bit chilly but it’s not bad around noon,” you say dully, “haven’t seen much of the locals. With how long it takes me to get up the mountain...”

“Oh, a mountain,” he echoes enthusiastically, “that’s exciting.”

“I guess. Eats away the day.”

“I’m sure,” he agrees glumly, “hey, don’t forget to treat yourself. Take a weekend off and hit that spa.”

“I will. I just got here.”

“Well, we all miss you,” he says. “Bucky especially. We got in a huge blow out the other day over the string in his hoodie.”

“Of course you did,” you can’t help but laugh.

“Really, I didn’t do anything. I was trying to fix it and it just... slipped inside, I don’t know. I don’t think it was about the string,” he snickers. “Probably having to deal with Steve and his--” Sam stops himself, “sorry.”

“What? No, it’s fine. Really. I came out here to get away but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t exist.”

“I know but you’re tryna forget him. Like you should,” Sam insists. “And he’ll realise soon enough what he missed out on all these years. And you need to do the same. Go out, explore, enjoy it. You’ll need to have some good stories to bring back to us here, we’re dying of boredom without you.”

“Yeah, uh, I’ll try,” you grumble, “anyway, I gotta head out early for the dig so I should let you go.”

“Right, of course,” he agrees, “don’t be a stranger.”

“I won’t. Promise.”

“Night,” he says.

You return a ‘good night’ and hang up. You toss your phone onto the pillow and heave as you clutch your head. You hate this. Why did you come all this way just to suffer? You should have just stuck it out. Sat on the sidelines like you always did and just swallow it all down. This is worse. Being so alone.

There’s no going back. Not now. So you just need to get through this and after... after you’ll just have to face Mr. and Mrs. Rogers with a fake smile and broken heart.

💟

The next week goes by much like your first days there. You wake up, drive up the mountain, plot, dig, clean up, and drive back. You sleep almost as soon as you sit down. You don’t have time to mull over what you left behind, not as you catalogue every bone and bead you come across.

You check in with Arturo when you can, just to confirm that everything is going according to plan. Often, you’re asleep when anyone else calls. You wake up to notifications from your mom and Sam and even Bucky. You should call them back but you just can’t. You can’t put on a fake voice for them. Not yet.

You take a day off. Only after Arturo insists. You know you should. You may as well have a proper grocery shop. You can’t keep living off the cafe and fish shop.

The shop feels more like a market. You pick through produce and meats, and get what’s easy. You’ll cook it all and package it up so you can just heat it up later. Some muffins to eat on your way up the mountain and maybe a few protein bars.

As you trawl the grocery store aisles, you pull out your phone. You have a pile of unread notifications from Insta. You don’t often check it anyway but your curious and a little homesick.

You see your mom’s post about her trip to the vineyard with her book club pals and Sam’s story with a very agitated looking Bucky. That makes you laugh. You scroll by some crafting videos and the pages you follow of castle curators living your aspirational goals.

Then you stop. You pull the cart still and go rigid as you stare at the screen. The image of Steve and Peggy burns into your retinas like a blinding light. It’s there engagement announcement. He has her in his arms, kissing her, as she holds out her hand to the camera to show off the diamond.

You can’t breathe. Your chest is on fire and your ears are ringing. It’s like salt in the wound and you don’t doubt it's intentional, at least on Peggy’s part.

Your hands shake as you grip the phone tightly and tap on Steve’s username. You ignore the rest of his profile and the pictures you know will only add to the turmoil brewing in your stomach. You hit the button in the corner and tap again and again. ‘You are about to block ‘starsnstripes18, are you sure’. Yes and yes!

You lock the screen and drop the phone into your purse, nestled into the basket of the cart. You grasp the bar and push the cart forward, steadying your steps with it. You look between the shelves and exhale.

You need to go cold turkey. No more Steve, no more Peggy, no more New York. You stood still so long, it feels good to run away from it all.

#steve rogers #thor #steve rogers x reader #thor x reader #someone new #fic #grayish fic #angst fic #mcu #marvel #captain america #avengers #au

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fluentmoviequoter · 10 months ago

Text

A Room Away

Requested Here!

Edit: Part 2 Here

Pairing: Tim Bradford x fem!reader

Summary: Tired of Tim's bad moods, Angela gets him a new roommate: you. As Tim gets to know you and learns about your past, you slowly become more than his roommate.

Warnings: mentions of past domestic abuse (reader and Tim), reader has chronic migraines from past head trauma, nightmares, reader has a panic attack, angst, fluff, Nyla and Angela. (roommates to lovers)

Word Count: 4.2k+ words

A/N: Parts of this are so self-indulgent. The migraine depictions are based on my migraines, but I think they're some of the most common symptoms. I hope you enjoy and please let me know what you think! (I'm still trying to get Tim's character down, so apologies if he's OOC.)🤍

Masterlist | Tim Bradford Masterlist | Request Info/Fandom List

Picture from Pinterest

Tim sits in the back of the room for roll call, his arms crossed tightly across his chest as unimpressed sighs escape him. Angela is getting tired of his seemingly perpetual bad mood. Clearly, he’s lonely, but he will never admit it. And that loneliness makes him mopey and broody (Angela’s official motto for Tim Bradford) until he has enough and snaps at someone.

Sitting at her desk, Angela watches Tim yell at a boot. He’s always harsh with them, trying to prepare them for anything, but now he’s using them as punching bags for his forbidden feelings.

“What’s his problem? He’s grumpier than usual,” Nyla says as she joins Angela.

“He’s lonely,” Angela answers. “Won’t admit it or do anything about it.”

“That man needs a girlfriend,” Nyla muses.

Angela sits up straighter and smiles. “You’re a genius, Harper.”

“I know.”

Angela opens a website on her computer, and Nyla pulls up a seat to watch her intervention into Tim’s personal life.

“You’re going to rent out his spare room without telling him? This’ll be fun to watch,” Nyla says, laughing.

“He has way too much room for just one guy. Getting him a roommate and a girlfriend will surely help with.. that,” she finishes, gesturing toward Tim.

“A roommate and a girlfriend, or a roommate who becomes a girlfriend?”

“Either should work.”

“That’s your number.”

Angela nods, putting her contact information on the listing. “Tim would shut it down after the first call, so I’ll interview them, run background checks, whatever, and find the perfect one.”

“Well, Mrs. Right is always found on Craigslist,” Nyla jokes.

“This isn’t Craigslist.”

“Semantics.”

Angela posts the listing, and she and Nyla hope getting Tim a roommate will help nudge him out of his bad mood. He needs someone to talk to and bond with, but he’ll never come to that conclusion on his own. Which is why Angela considers herself to be such a good friend.

✯✯✯✯✯

Los Angeles is a big city, which is part of why you chose it without another thought. Full of opportunities and a chance of fading into the background, it’s the complete opposite of your home, which overflows with memories. The patched drywall you were pushed into, the stained tile where you thought everything was going to end, and the china cabinet with the shattered glass are left behind and traded in for a minimum wage job, a used car, and a lot of panic that you won’t be able to find somewhere to live.

You’ll need a roommate until you can save enough money for your own place. However, finding a decent place with a decent roommate is nearly impossible in your price range. Browsing online listings, you see one that could be promising. The information at the bottom says there is an interview process, which catches your attention. Sending a text to Angela Lopez, you cross your fingers for good luck before walking into work.

By the end of your shift, Angela has replied and asked you to meet somewhere nearby. You want to go home, a dull headache building at the base of your skull impairing your mood. But you also really want a better place to call home than the pay-by-the-month motel you’re currently living in.

Angela gives you a firm handshake as she introduces herself as an LAPD detective. She asks questions about your life, job, hobbies, and finally, why you moved to Los Angeles.

“I just needed a change of pace; was ready to leave my old life behind, find something bigger and better,” you answer, a simplified version of the truth.

Trying not to show it, Angela immediately takes a liking to you. Each of your answers solidifies her gut instinct that you’re a good fit for Tim. You ask why her name was on this listing if it’s not her house, and she follows your lead and gives you the truth, but not all of it.

“Tim, the owner of the house, is a coworker and friend, and I’m just trying to help him out while he’s busy with work,” she explains.

As you leave the meeting, Angela gives you her personal number, as well as someone named Nyla Harper’s number, “just in case you need anything.”

She texts you a time and address, telling you to meet her at your new place the following afternoon. You thank her repeatedly before driving to the trashy motel one last time.

✯✯✯✯✯

Parking outside the house, you fall in love with the neighborhood and the cute architecture of the home. Angela meets you in the driveway, seeming more nervous than excited. You realize she may not have been totally honest with you as you follow her to the door.

An incredibly handsome man opens the door, sighing when he sees Angela. He lets both of you in, seeming to trust Angela completely.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim knows he will regret opening the door, but the woman with Angela is beautiful, and deep down, a small part of him wants to know who she is and why she’s on his doorstep.

“This is your new roommate,” Angela announces, giving Tim your name.

“You didn’t,” Tim responds. “Please tell me you didn’t rent out my spare room without asking me, Lopez.”

“I won’t tell you that, then.”

Standing quietly to the side, you anxiously watch their argument.

“Um, sorry,” you begin, interrupting them. “But I can go, and find a new place, since this is clearly not what you signed up for.”

You move toward the door before stopping when Angela demands, “Don’t go anywhere.”

She gives Tim a stern look before cocking her head to the side. He sighs like he has accepted his fate, a tragedy based on his reaction. Gesturing for you to follow him, he gives you a quick tour before showing you to your new room and bathroom.

“I’m not home a ton, but when I am, I’m usually watching a game or just hanging out, so,” he tells you before trailing off.

You nod before promising, “You won’t even know I’m here.”

Tim wants to believe you, but he also thinks you’re pretty and kind enough that he wouldn’t mind seeing you occasionally.

✯✯✯✯✯

You cross paths with Tim a few times in the first two days of living with him. He’s struck by your beauty each time but recognizes that you don’t open up willingly, so he never presses you to talk. Content to be ships passing in the night, Tim gives you a nod before continuing out the door.

It’s your third night in the house that Tim learns your reserved qualities may not be as simple as a personality trait. Waking when he hears a strange noise, Tim listens in the darkness before deciding it’s your footsteps he hears. Based on the sound, you're pacing, so Tim gets out of bed and walks to the kitchen. He walks right past you, and you give him an apologetic smile before slowing down. Tim makes you a mug of calming tea, sliding it across the kitchen island before sitting beside you as you drink it. Suspecting you had a nightmare or some similarly disturbing experience, Tim reminds you where you are and that everything is okay in his own way.

Over the next week, you wake him up a few more times, thrashing in your bed or exiting your room once you wake. He nudges each time, offering to let you talk about it, but you never do. You always apologize for waking him, thank him for keeping you company and making you tea before you disappear back into yourself and into your room.

✯✯✯✯✯

You’ve lost count of the days and nights spent in Tim’s house, your sense of time thrown off by the continued plague of nightmares and the monotony of your days. As you wake up after a surprisingly dreamless sleep, you immediately turn your face back into the pillow. Your heartbeat pounds in your head, and everything seems brighter and louder. The migraines have been nearly as consistent as the nightmares since before you left for Los Angeles.

Tim knocks on your door, and you groan as the sound echoes in your brain. He cracks the door, concerned that you aren’t up yet.

“Are you okay?” he asks, seeing your current state.

“Migraine,” you answer. “I called in sick.”

He closes the door to block the light from outside and lowers his voice to ask, “Do you need anything before I leave?”

“I’m okay. Thanks.”

“Well, call me if you do, or if anything changes, okay?”

“I will. Thank you, Tim. Have a good day.”

Tim nods, even though you can’t see him, before backing out of your room and exiting the house as quietly as possible. He keeps his ringer on, looking at his phone every few minutes as his concern for you remains at the forefront of his mind.

Angela and Nyla notice his usual grumpy disposition seems to have been replaced with concern for something, or someone. After he checks his phone for the fifth consecutive time, Angela decides to pry.

“How’s the beautiful roomie? Still just a roommate?” she asks.

“She’s not feeling well,” Tim answers.

Angela waits for an elaboration, but Tim doesn’t offer one. She looks at Nyla, who gives a knowing look. It’s obvious that Tim is softening toward you, but you haven’t made enough of an impact that he’s less grumpy or snappy. As the day continues, his usual personality returns, convinced that you must be okay, or you would have called.

The next day, after learning that you are, in fact, feeling better, Tim is back to his pre-roommate levels of anger and high strung-ness. To worsen his mood, you wake him up with a nightmare but refuse to let him in, not even acknowledging his kind questioning as to how you are. He’s worried about you because you welcomed his presence before, but he is also angry that you changed so quickly, and now you don’t trust him. Everything is piling on, and Tim isn’t sure how much more he can carry.

✯✯✯✯✯

“Just tell me something,” Angela presses.

“Stay out of it, Lopez!” Tim yells, his emotions reaching a boiling point. “I didn’t even want a puppy- a roommate! If you like her so much, why don’t you take her in?”

Angela waits for his shoulders to drop slightly before asking, “Timothy… is this because you don’t like her, or because you do?”

Tim’s jaw clenches, and his nostrils flare as he turns away, offering to go on patrol while Nolan and Celina go to the shooting range. Everyone seems to think they know Tim better than they do; Angela is pushing him toward you while you’re distancing yourself, and the push and pull is tiring.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim waits in his truck in the driveway for a few minutes before walking in. When he walks in, you’re standing in the kitchen. He hasn’t actually seen you since the day of your last migraine when you stopped trusting him, and your sudden willingness to be in the same area confuses him. Anger and confusion rarely mix well; with Tim, it’s a fatal combination.

You notice his tension and knitted brows, chewing your bottom lip before asking, “Are you okay?”

Stumbling to his tipping point for the second time in the day, Tim takes all his anger and confusion over his feelings out on you.

“What do you think? You can’t decide if I’m worth trusting with something as small as a nightmare, and Angela thinks that I’m practically neglecting you,” he begins.

You swallow harshly as his voice rises, stumbling backward when he starts moving his arms.

“Especially considering I didn’t even want you here!”

Flinching, you snap your eyes closed and catch yourself on the corner of the wall. Tim freezes as he watches you. Everything begins snapping into place in his mind: your nightmares and the distance added to your reaction to him yelling and moving his hand are all signs he should have noticed sooner.

Your chest is heaving as you take short breaths, and when you finally open your eyes, you look terrified. Tim steps back, keeping his hands where you can see them. You focus on him as you slide down the wall, cradling your head in your hands as you fight off bad memories and a growing headache.

Tim watches you before sitting on the floor, keeping his distance. He waits for you to calm down, willing to let you decide whether or not you want to talk to him. You finally look back up at him, but he doesn’t move.

“I- I’m sorry,” you whisper.

“Can I come closer?” Tim asks.

You nod, and Tim slides across the floor, not wanting to stand up and look any more imposing than necessary. His knee presses gently against your thigh, and when you don’t move, he gives you a small smile – the first you’ve ever seen.

“I’ll leave in the morning,” you say, fiddling with your fingers.

“Please don’t,” Tim replies, shaking his head. “I’m really sorry. I wasn’t mad at you, just angry with a long day. But that’s no reason to yell at you or act like that. You confused me, and I didn’t know how to deal with it. That’s on me.”

“I’m sorry,” you repeat.

“Don’t. When I was younger, my dad took his anger out on me sometimes. I’m sure I deserved it once or twice, but I also know better than to treat people like an emotional outlet. If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

You nod before saying, “My ex.”

Tim feels a protective surge at the idea of anyone hurting you, let alone doing it enough times that yelling pushes you to the point of a panic attack.

After comforting you with proximity and kind words, Tim offers to walk you to bed. Your hand brushes his as he opens your door, and you smile as you thank him for everything. It’s a minor change in your relationship but an important one.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim leaves before you wake up the following morning, determined to find out as much as he can about you and your past. He’s not necessarily being nosy, but he wants to know if there’s anything specific that could help or hurt you.

“What do you know?” he demands as he storms up to Angela’s desk.

“About what?” she replies, raising her brows.

“What do you mean ‘about what’? Her!”

Nyla leans back in her chair, glad to watch the unfolding drama.

“Tim, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Angela explains.

“Why’d she move to LA?”

“Are you seriously trying to find something wrong with her? That’s low.”

Tim moves around her desk, dropping his voice to answer, “I’m trying to figure out who thought it was okay to put their hands on her. Because she won’t let me in.”

Angela begins connecting the dots you left untouched. You ran from the person controlling your life, not your actual life. She knew that you were omitting something during your initial meeting, but she didn’t expect it to be so big.

“Have you been open with her?” Angela asks finally. “Because that’s a two-way street. I’ll talk to her if you want me to, but she trusts you, Tim.”

“How do you know that?”

Nyla’s eyes bounce back and forth like she’s watching a tennis game. She sighs before deciding to interject. “She told her! Sent her a text one night!” she calls out, smiling and waving when Angela and Tim look at her.

Tim nods, giving Angela the closest she’ll get to an apologetic look before leaving.

✯✯✯✯✯

Returning home, Tim is surprised to find you on the couch, in your work clothes, with your face pressed into a pillow. You wave your fingers without moving to acknowledge him, and he remains silent as he walks to the kitchen.

“You don’t have to be silent, it’s your house,” you mumble. “I’ll figure out a way to get to the bedroom.”

“You’re fine here,” Tim answers, setting a glass of water beside you. “Another migraine?”

“Skull fractured from getting my head pushed through a window a few months ago,” you explain with a sigh. “The migraines have gotten worse since then.”

Tim lays a hand on your shoulder, giving you plenty of time to tell him not to touch you. You don’t, relaxing under his touch instead. Tim takes a seat beside you, hoping to comfort you once more.

“Your ex?” Tim asks.

You hum a yes, and Tim’s jaw tightens, even as he comforts you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Walking into the police station, Tim’s wallet is tucked safely in your bag. Approaching the front desk, you say your name and are wordlessly handed a visitor’s badge before someone gives you directions. You don’t have time to argue, shrugging as you attempt to remember where to turn. Angela sees you before you see her, rushing to your side and looping her arm with yours.

“What are you doing here?” she asks happily.

“Uh, Tim forgot his wallet. I was just going to drop it off, but they sent me back here,” you answer.

Tim says your name, coming around a corner, and Angela pushes you toward him, joining Nyla as they watch your interaction.

“You know she was trying to get you a girlfriend and not just a roommate, right?”

Tim nods a thanks as he accepts his wallet, glancing over at your audience. “I’m half-tempted to make them think I kicked you out.”

You smile brightly, and Tim licks his lips to keep his smile from mirroring yours. His eyes tell you more than enough, and you’re happy to see him, too.

“Do it,” you whisper. “Just let me know when so I can play my part. Angela told me to call her if you were ever mean to me.”

“Have you?”

You don’t answer, opting to wink at him before stepping back. Waving at Angela and Nyla, you leave the station as they rush to Tim’s side. As they ask overlapping questions and talk about how cute you and Tim look standing together, Tim ignores them before walking away.

✯✯✯✯✯

Tim is pulled from his sleep by your panicked yell. He leaves his bed and barges into your room with no thought. His heart rate slows when he sees your teary face and tangled sheets.

“Sorry,” you mutter as you wipe your tears. “I just don’t know how to make them stop.”

Tim sits beside you, opening an arm toward you. It’s a bold move, especially for him, but you take his offer and curl into his side.

“Are- did you mean it when you said I could talk about it?” you ask.

Tim nods, and you tell him more, but not everything. You remind yourself that he’s your roommate and maybe, just maybe, he's your friend, but he’s not here to listen to all of your baggage.

“The last thing he said before I left was, ‘there is nowhere you can go that my love won’t lead me to find you.’”

“You know that wasn’t love,” Tim replies, waiting for your nod before continuing. “And I’ve got your back, Angela and Nyla are right here, and we won’t let anything happen to you. No matter what.”

Drifting back to sleep in his warm, safe embrace, you finally learn what it’s like not to be scared.

When you wake alone, neither you nor Tim acknowledge what happened. You’re okay with slow changes, as long as there are changes.

“Tim,” you say, interrupting him on his way out. “Thank you. For last night.”

“I’m only ever a call away,” he reminds you.

✯✯✯✯✯

Your head starts aching around noon, quickly worsening into a full-blown migraine. When you’re ready to go home, it’s bad enough that you can’t drive. Sitting in your car and resting your head against the steering wheel, you want to call Tim but can’t find the strength to move.

Tim, meanwhile, returns home and begins wondering where you are. He calls, and you don’t answer, so he lets his worry control him as he gets back in his truck and drives your usual route. Tim hopes to pass you or find you waiting as someone changes your tire. When he gets to the parking lot of your job and sees you slumped in your car, he has to fight not to panic.

Rushing to the door, he’s both grateful and concerned that it’s unlocked. He kneels beside you, saying your name before bending to see you. Your eyes are tightly closed, but tears are still leaking out.

“I’m taking you to the hospital,” he says.

You whimper as he picks you up, clinging to him until he lays you down in the backseat of his truck, buckling you in as well as possible.

“Hospital can’t help,” you mumble.

Tim wants to argue, but remembers what you said about the skull fracture. You’ve already been to the doctor, so maybe getting you home and comfortable will be enough.

After a nap partially influenced by unbearable pain, you wake to see Tim sitting by your bed.

“Why are you so nice to me? You didn’t even want a roommate,” you mutter sleepily.

Tim smiles, making you think you’re hallucinating. “Yet I got something better.”

✯✯✯✯✯

You don’t quite make it to work the next day. Walking into the station, you’re surprised when Nyla greets you first.

“I’m assuming it’s a joke,” she says.

You furrow your brows in confusion before you see Tim leaning on a desk with his arms crossed while Angela yells at him.

“Unless he really kicked you out,” Nyla adds.

You nod, walking towards Angela and Tim.

“No, you don’t get to blame me! I got you a roommate, a friend, a beautiful woman who could have been more than a friend, and you’re mad at me?” Angela exclaims.

Tim locks eyes with you, not changing his expression as he gauges whether or not her yelling is upsetting you.

“Can I talk to you?” you ask Tim.

Angela steps back, hoping to hear Tim apologize, but he stands up and gestures for you to follow him without speaking. Worried that you’re sick again, Tim waits silently.

“I’m okay,” you promise. “I just wanted to see you.”

Not believing something so simple, Tim shakes his head. “Tell me what happened.”

“I saw a guy who looked like him while I was driving to work. He was yelling at a girl outside of a diner, and it made me nervous.” You keep your eyes on the floor, but Tim gently raises your head.

“You’re not alone, and I know that things still seem uncertain, and probably will for a long time, but you don’t have to be afraid of anything while I’m here.”

“Then why’d you kick me out?” you tease with a pout.

Tim shakes his head, telling you to go before following you out. You wipe an imaginary tear before waving at Angela.

“No, you’re not leaving,” she says, grabbing your shoulders and steering you toward her desk.

Nyla smiles at Tim, and he sighs before following.

“Tell me exactly what happened between you two,” Angela commands.

You look past her before tensing, and Tim immediately catches on. He follows your line of vision and sees Nolan and Celina booking someone. You shrink in on yourself, and Tim moves to block your view.

“Get her out of here,” he tells Angela.

Angela doesn’t wait before obeying, ushering you into the bullpen and out of sight.

“What’s the charge?” Tim asks Celina.

“Assault. Beat up a woman outside a diner,” she answers.

Tim’s jaw tightens at the knowledge that this man made you nervous this morning, reminding you of your ex. He hates abuse in every situation, but when you’re involved, his protectiveness and anger differ. Tim leaves before saying or doing something he’ll regret.

When he finds you in the bullpen, he takes one look at you before hugging you. It’s quick, but Angela and Nyla look at each other in shock.

“So, you’re good?” Nyla asks.

“We were never bad,” you reply. “Just wanted to get back at Angela for trying to set us up.”

“It worked?” Angela inquires excitedly.

“Not yet.”

“Not yet?” Tim repeats, looking over at you. He shrugs as he concedes, “Okay.”

✯✯✯✯✯

When Tim gets home, he drops his stuff by the door, raising his arms in question as he looks at you. “Not yet? What is that supposed to mean?”

“You haven’t made a move. How do I know you’re not just protective and caring under that handsome, gruff exterior?” you ask with a shrug.

Tim shakes his head, cupping the back of your head gently as he kisses you. You raise your hands over his chest to hold his jaw, pushing yourself closer as you reciprocate his every move.

“Because I don’t protect just anyone like this,” he says against your lips.

You kiss him again before asking, “Does this mean you can reduce my rent?”

Tim rolls his eyes, tucking you against his side where you’re safe from everything and everyone.

#tim bradford x reader #tim bradford x fem!reader #tim bradford fluff #tim bradford imagine #tim bradford the rookie #tim bradford #the rookie #requests

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ino-takumas-baggy-sweater · 11 months ago

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The Blessing to Your Curse - Part 1 (Ryomen Sukuna x Reader)

Hey y’all I’m back again so soon with another fic, Sukuna’s lover reincarnation (whatever you call it) has me in a chokehold right now and I thought I’d share this with the world. Would like to warn you there is a lot of strange jumping around/pov changes which are indicated by the change in pronouns, I would mark each change but it would get a bit messy after a while so I hope it’s not too hard to follow! ^-^

Reader’s powers involve something I like to call ‘blessed energy’ which is the opposite to cursed energy and is mostly used for healing (reverse blessed energy is used to harm in the same way reverse CE is used to heal) and it’s something I created to use with my writings in the JJK universe. (sometimes I write it a little op because im a self-indulgent piece of shit so for most of what I post I’ll probably dial it back if I use it hehe) The reader has a similar situation to Maki/Mai (MANGA SPOILERS AHEAD) where one twin is restricted and the other has all the energy, and when the one with the energy dies the living twin gains all the power, so I hope that makes sense in context of the story

(PLEASE DON'T HESITATE TO SEND A REQUEST!!!! I'M ALWAYS IN NEED OF NEW PROMPTS AND CHARACTERS TO GO WITH THEM ❤)(I have a post which outlines characters I mostly write for but I'm open to adding to that list!!)

Warnings: mild description of mutilation (sukuna’s transformation), main character death (not described), fluff

Word count: 2.4k

“Ryomen!” You laugh, trying to keep a few steps ahead of the young man who chases after you. Your legs tire easily, body frail and sick despite the immense power flowing through your veins. “I’m coming for you!” He growls playfully, “Better run!” He’s holding back from his top speed, this you know well, but you refuse to let that stop you from trying to keep up with his childish play. Still young, 16 and 17 with him being the older one, you insist that you would rather spend the rest of your life here with him than being shepherded around in the village like a priestess.

This is your only escape from the temple on the hill, only solitude, your time with Ryomen Sukuna is precious and you treat it as such, thinking only of him and his rare smiles. You refuse to let the village’s words taint your view of him, as powerful as he is with his cursed energy there is good in him and you seek to nurture it, for both simple selfish gain and so he doesn’t turn on everyone like they did him. You reach the treeline and race out into the meadow, the grass tall and soft around your waist having stripped down from your daily ceremonial robes into just modest loose undergarments.

He does eventually catch up near the middle of the meadow, springing out of the grass and tackling you to the ground, making sure to roll so you land on top of him and he takes the full force of the fall. The last time you returned to the village after a long day of simple play with bruises and scrapes you weren’t allowed to leave the village for a few weeks.

He’s grown quite a lot larger than you during his time in exile, to be expected when you have to fend for yourself against wild animals and build your own shelter, “You’re getting stronger every day,” You smile, pushing yourself off him and laying in the grass, staring up at the beautiful pink of the sunset. “Well I have to, to be able protect you, I’m not the only thing out there you know,” He says, his tone almost too blasé for what he’s implying. You tilt your head and trace the lines of his tattoos with your eyes, “I know you’re not, but you’re not a thing to me Ryomen,” You murmur, “Please, you’re the closest thing I have to a friend, you’ve always been human to me,”

He meets your gaze, his eyes used to be brown, but the red no longer worries you like it used to, “One day I’ll get you out of that village,” He says softly, his words for your ears and the rustling grass only, “I will take you far away from here and we can live somewhere untouched by the rest of the world,” You sit up, looking down at him as you hug your knees to your chest, “I’d like that,” You say, smiling, “Just the two of us,” Nothing could touch you while you were together, the world stood still for you, not even the scathing remarks you sometimes got from the other young girls of the village could hurt you.

The world is volatile, things can change so quickly. Curses are still so new to the world of humans, sorcerers that act as protectors are only just starting to appear among humans and spread themselves between villages when the day finally comes. The wave of hatred and anguish that came with the curses suffocated everything in its path. You were outside the village when it happened, returning from a visit with Sukuna, and you returned to find nothing but death and destruction. More than half of the village had been killed with no discrimination towards age or gender, and it only soothed you a little to see your old family home empty when you wrenched the door open. No blood nor bodies of any kind. Your parents and sister had made it out alive, but the temple atop the hill that you resided in was completely engulfed.

You weren’t naïve, you did not attempt to return to the temple, but they came for you all the same because your energy was like a beacon for them, and they were programmed to destroy. Running with Ryomen had improved your strength over the time you spent together, you supposed that was one of the ways he took care of you in his silent brooding way, but it wasn’t enough to get you all the way to him. He must have sensed your fear as you grew nearer, your breaths shallow and your chest tight, his eyes are the last thing you remember seeing before your soul was harshly liberated from your flesh.

The smell of blood permeated through layers of warmth that held you in suspension beyond life, but you felt yourself being dragged back to the ground, standing over your own body as you watch the only person outside of your immediate family who ever truly cared for you cry. You had never seen him cry before, it was cathartic to know even he still felt human somewhere inside while holding your weak broken body to his bare tattooed chest.

You felt his cursed energy filling the air like smoke, almost able to see it in the purgatory state you’re trapped in, his body shaking and his muscles twitching. It was like watching someone turn themselves inside out when it finally happened, his body began changing before your eyes, an extra pair of arms sprout from the top of his ribcage just under the normal ones. His face contorts with an agonized cry and one half becomes unrecognisable, the flesh pink and hardened into some sort of twisted mask, and to finish the monstrous transformation a second pair of eyes open under his regular ones.

Drenched in sweat and breathing heavily as he cradles you, you hear him make one last promise, one that locks around what remains of your essence like chains and puts you into a deep sleep. “I will burn this world for taking you from me, I will become the King of Curses, and when you are reborn I shall make you remember, make you my Queen, I will bind myself to you to protect you,” It’s the final part that reassures you he isn’t losing himself as the darkness consumes you, “When I find you, the world will be right once again,”

Now it had been over a thousand years since the light in Sukuna’s life had gone out, reducing him to a killing machine that punished the world for snuffing it out, and he had returned once more in the body of a naive 15 year old boy with pink hair. Having been preserved as twenty separate cursed objects since his untimely death he was eager to resume his self-assigned purge, but the boy had more control over his body than Sukuna could break through, leaving him trapped within his innate domain watching through Yuji Itadori’s eyes like they’re windows.

“I had to do it at least once,” He grumbles to himself as the boy sits up, stark naked, on the morgue table, surprising the three sorcerers in the room with the formerly dead boy. “There’s someone I’d like you to meet, Yuji, come,” Gojo instructs as the boy slips on some clothes handed to him. “Another sorcerer?” He asks. “You’ll see when we get there,” The taller man beckons him and they make their way to a house on the furthest outskirts of the Jujutsu high campus, small in size and surrounded by forest on all sides except for the path leading up to the entrance.

A fire burns in the chimney and the house is warm when the pair steps inside, “L/n!” Gojo calls out. Sukuna’s attention is elsewhere as around the corner down the hall out walks a pure angel, her energy blinding and her form strong. “Gojo!” She smiles, “Who’s this?” “This is Yuji Itadori, Ryomen Sukuna’s vessel,” She bows politely, “Welcome to my home,” She looks back up into Yuji’s eyes as he smiles, “It’s nice to meet you!”

“Enchain!” Sukuna shouts, and suddenly he’s thrown violently to the forefront of Yuji’s mind. His trump card, wasted. He hadn’t considered the potential consequences, it had been instinctual and foolish of him. The girl didn’t know who he was, but he wanted to speak to her all the same. He would make her know. He cannot stumble, he cannot falter, not when she’s right there and all he has to do is show her, “Y/n,” He murmurs. “That’s not Yuji,” She frowns, her voice soft, “That’s-” Before the two can react Sukuna is on his knees before her, holding her hands in his and hiding against her soft clothing. “I’ve…” Gojo trails off, “I’ve never seen that before,” The girl doesn’t let him go, and he feels her power reach into him, feeling around in the darkest parts of his soul, “My Queen,” He mutters, feeling the metaphysical chains around his heart tighten, “Please, remember,”

A fast surge of energy from Gojo causes the man on his knees before you to react just as quickly, pulling you tighter against him and then seemingly teleporting out the open door into the clearing, “It’s rude to attack ROYALTY!” He roars as Gojo steps out the door after the pair of you. Sukuna has planted himself firmly between the two of you, “You sorcerers never learn manners!” Something happens when your skin next touches his, his hand shooting out to catch you by your wrist as you fail to keep your balance.

A flood of memories that don’t belong to you, in fact, ones that belong to him. You see yourself, weak and frail but smiling widely, Sukuna as he is in front of you now not as he is described in sorcerer texts. A regular human man with an abnormal amount of tattoos, fiercely protective and full of love for the only person who still sees him as human. You vaguely feel yourself fall to your knees as everything from the day he was exiled to the day you died returned to your mind. You knew that despite the life you had lived for twenty years, you were in fact over a thousand years old.

This wasn’t your life, this wasn’t your body, it was hers, but you are her. You can feel the chains, too, the ones he put there the day you died to ensure that you would return. “The world took her from me, and the world paid the price, now BACK OFF!” His words shake you out of your visions, his hand still clutching your wrist as your head hangs weakly.

“Come now, Sukuna, taking hostages isn’t your style, you know that,” Gojo bargains, “Let her go, and we can fight like men,” You shake your head, “No,” You murmur, “No, Gojo,” You finally look up into his eyes, slightly uncovered as he prepares to fight, “He’s right, I know who I am, I know where my clan comes from,” He doesn’t make a move towards you and you take the opportunity to speak again, “My mother was blessed, her child would calm the beast, but she had two and one was weak in body strong in energy, the other was lacking in energy but strong of body,” Your sister had been the one the clan records mentioned, nobody remembered the girl who died alone in Ryomen Sukuna’s arms.

“I am the Queen to Ryomen Sukuna’s King,” You breathe, feeling his grip on your wrist go lax. His energy dies away and he falls to his hands and knees, but the tattoos are gone. “Yuji!” Gojo’s shoulders finally relax and he recovers his eyes, “What happened? How did he get through?” “Don’t ignore me, Satoru,” You state firmly, “Sukuna will not be a threat while I am alive,” “Can you guarantee that?” He’s always been intimidating, but this man was a part of your training as a sorcerer, and he can be rational when he wants to be.

“You’re an imbecile if you think I’m going to go back on a binding vow,” Sukuna spits from Yuji’s cheek, the boy not even having a chance to get a word in, “She is the only thing in this forsaken world I care about and you’re not about to take that away from me just so you can pretend like you’re the saviour of humanity,” You don’t remember ever being as harsh as Sukuna is right now, but his rage fills you with confidence and admiration, “I can guarantee humans will not fall as long as I am alive, his vow makes sure of it, though I’m sure he would not need it either way,”

The secondary eye on Yuji’s cheek closest to you locks its gaze onto you, “Ever so cunning, I wish I’d had the chance to nurture your hatred towards the village, maybe you’d be more open to killing,” He sounds almost wistful, “But alas, I did make a promise, and I intend to keep it, no matter how idiotic I think you sorcerers are,” You finally move to stand back on your feet, helping Yuji up with a tentative smile, “It’s nice to meet you Itadori,” You murmur, “I’m sorry you have to listen to that punk, you come to me if he gives you trouble alright?” The boy nods, his previously cheery demeanour replaced with something mellower and he seems deep in thought as he looks into your eyes.

“He really loves you,” He murmurs in disbelief, “I didn’t… I didn’t think he was truly capable of love, after what he did to me,” You shrug, “It’ll make sense one day, but I’ll let him be the one who opens up, it’s not my place to air out thousand year old dirty laundry with people who are long dead anyway,” Your words hang in the air as Gojo finally sighs. The discussion and conclusion are finalised when he leaves, Yuji will live with you and you will suppress Sukuna’s energy. You will keep the world safe by preserving your life, lest another binding vow come down upon your departing soul and the King of curses be forced to unleash his merciless fury once more.

Sukuna is a little shit and out of character because it’s my fic and I get to write the male love interest however I want (I tried besties :( I don’t like mean Sukuna but I do love “I hate everyone but you” so that’s what you get) also I wrote this instead of sleeping at 2am, the brainrot is real and this will probably end up being a series because I can’t control myself

Part 2 here!

Post dividers from @cafekitsune

#jujutsu kaisen #ryomen sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader #true form sukuna #ryomen sukuna #yuji itadori #satoru gojo #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk sukuna #heian era #jjk x reader

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soshirohoshinasimp · 3 months ago

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"Are ya alright...!?"

Synopsis: Savior!Hoshina x Civilian!Reader

Author's note: Thanks @hoshinaideas4all for the list of ideas, and for curing my writer's block.

This was really fun to write, mainly because I was trying to patch up on writing falling in love scenes, describing things and poetry. (Mainly destruction, sadness, depression and just describing things in general.) So this was very fun writing. I hope you all really enjoyed this one, and especially enjoy the poetry at the top! ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Wc: 1500 (whoopsie doo)

To love something means you feel an endless wave of excitement. It’s like when you’re glued to a romance movie and can’t wait for the main couple to finally be together. Every scene has your heart racing and your emotions bubbling over.

To love someone feels like you’re living in that movie. It’s like you’re the main character, and everything around them feels magical and special. Even the smallest gestures become epic moments.

But these two kinds of feelings, while both thrilling, are different from each other.

One day, you were managing your new restaurant. It was a busy, exciting time for you, as you were sending out orders, crafting drinks, and handing out menus to customers. You had just opened the place a few weeks ago, so it was still just you working there. There were no employees yet, just you, living your dream of owning a restaurant. You’d worked hard to get this far, and it felt amazing to finally call it your own.

But then, Once a dream turned into a nightmare.

It was a regular afternoon when the chaos began. You were in the middle of preparing an order when you heard a loud crash. Your heart skipped a beat as you looked up to see a group of yojus —huge, monstrous creatures— not a lot though, around five to ten -- bursting through the restaurant’s front window. The once-glass window shattered into a million pieces, sending glass flying everywhere.

The kaiju were terrifying. They were massive, shaped like mushrooms with crimson red spots on their heads, They thrashed around, causing destruction with every movement. The walls of your restaurant, which you had carefully decorated and maintained, started to crack and splinter. You could hear the ominous creaking of wood and the groaning of metal as the restaurant’s structure began to give way, as more yojus came rushing through.

You ran to the back, trying to stay out of their path, but the kaiju were cornering you. Some were even coming in and out into the ceiling, and a huge chunk of the ceiling fell right where you had been standing just moments before. Your heart pounded in your chest, and your breathing became shallow and erratic. You could feel the panic rising, squeezing the air out of your lungs.

In the midst of the destruction, you tried to call for help, but the noise of the kaiju and the crumbling building drowned out your voice. You stumbled, almost falling as the floor shook beneath you. The restaurant, which had been a symbol of your hard work and dreams, was now a chaotic, dangerous mess. The walls were closing in, and pieces of the roof were falling in different spots, creating a maze of debris.

Fear gripped you tightly, making it hard to think clearly. You saw more parts of the ceiling start to buckle, and you knew you had to get out, but your legs felt like you had weights in your pockets. Every time you tried to move, the ground shook violently, making you lose your balance. The sense of impending doom was overwhelming. It felt like everything you had worked for was crumbling in front of you, and you couldn’t do anything to stop it.

The last straw came when a massive piece of debris fell dangerously close to you, and you saw the entire section of the roof beginning to collapse. It was like a scene from a disaster movie, and you were trapped in the middle of it. Despair and resignation took over, and you felt as if your whole world was falling apart. With your heart racing and tears streaming down your face, you just sank to the floor. You sat down on your bum, closing your eyes tightly and bracing for the worst.

In that moment of absolute terror, you felt completely helpless. You could hear the kaiju’s roars and the sound of the building breaking apart. It felt like time was stretching out, and every second was a mix of fear and anticipation. You were sure you were going to die, and you prepared yourself for the end. But what you weren’t expecting, silence. No more sounds of the kaiju. Or was your mind playing tricks on you?

Then, through the chaos, a heavy accent pierced through the din.

“Are ya alright..!?”

Loud and Commanding

You opened your eyes to see a man with striking crimson eyes and a bowl cut of midnight purple. He was wearing a JAKDF suit, and held a sword in each hand. He moved with incredible speed and precision, slicing through the kaiju with expert skill, cutting through the monstrous creatures effortlessly into bits.

His eyes werefilled with concern as he looked at you. The contrast between his calm demeanor and the chaos around him was striking. His presence was like a beacon of hope in the midst of the disaster.

You watched in awe as he fought off the remaining kaiju, his movements fluid and graceful. It was like he was dancing through the chaos, and you felt a strange sense of calm as you saw him taking control of the situation. His confidence and strength were reassuring, and you couldn’t believe someone like him was there to help you.

With the last kaiju defeated, he sheathed his swords and extended a hand towards you. You took his hand hesitantly, and he helped you to your feet with surprising gentleness. His touch was firm but careful, as if you would break on any sort of impact, and it grounded you in a way you hadn’t felt since the attack started.

“Yer not injured are ya..?” he asked, his voice gentle but full of curiosity.

You nodded, still feeling a bit dazed and flustered. You could hardly believe what had just happened.

“Thank…thank you,” you managed to say softly, your voice trembling with relief.

“Anytime, ma’am! Comes with the job,” he said with a smile that made you feel all warm inside. His smile was like a ray of sunshine breaking through the clouds. Even though the conversation lasted less than a minute, it felt like it was in slow motion. Your heart skipped a beat, and you felt a wave of emotions washing over you. It was like the world had paused just for that brief moment.

It felt like roses were blooming when he spoke.

As quickly as he had come, he was gone. He walked out of the restaurant, leaving you standing there with your heart racing and your mind spinning. You gathered all your remaining courage and called out to him, “Uh! When you stop by, your first few orders are free of charge!!”

He turned back and looked at you with a playful grin. “Aren’t ya sweet? Guess I’ll be expectin’ to see ya real soon.”

With that, he left, and you watched him go, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and something else—something you couldn’t quite put into words. His departure left a significant mark on your heart and mind.

In less than a bit, the ambulance arrived and was taking some of your customers into the vehicles, and just like that the “eventful” day was finished. When you arrived home to your little apartment. You couldn’t stop thinking about him, and his voice seemed to echo in your ears every day. With the restaurant being repaired, you spent the rest of the night in your tiny apartment researching who this hero was. You pulled out your computer and began searching for information about him.

You figured he was part of the defense force, but you weren’t sure which division. After two hours of digging through profiles, you finally found him. In a group photo with the division’s captain and the entire division, there he was.

Soshiro Hoshina — Vice Captain of the JAKDF Third Division.

You dove into his social media pages, learning everything you could about him. You replayed the scene where he saved you over and over in your mind. You found yourself doodling pictures of him and daydreaming about him with a smile on your face.

Was this just a crush?

Probably not. You fell for Soshiro Hoshina so quickly and so deeply that it felt like you deserved a medal for the fastest in record time to fall deeply in love. You eagerly awaited the day when the cleaning and remodeling would be finished so you could see him again and hear his voice.

Man, getting over him is going to be really tough.

#kajiu no8 x reader #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina #soshiro x female reader #kaiju number 8

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writing-in-the-impala · 1 year ago

Text

Secret Smokes

Pairing: Teacher! Remus Lupin x Reader

Series Summary: When the reader bumps into the new DADA professor on the bridge in Hogwarts she begins to build a friendship with him all thanks to their shared feeling of not belonging and love for muggle cigarettes. Their friendship blooms while they both fight internal battles deciding what is wrong and what is right leading to a lot of fluff, angst, flirting and a rollercoaster of emotions.

Warnings: Swearing, Drinking, teacher-student relationship (but like it’s all legal chill), SLOWburn we’re in for a long ride

Word Count: Just over 1k

A/N:

This story takes place in a AU where Harry's parents are still alive so Remus Lupin still has all his friends and there is no war however that doesn't make him any less angsty. Everything else is pretty much the same as the canon universe! Enjoy!

MASTERLIST | SERIES MASTER LIST | Part 1, Next Chapter

The wizarding world and the muggle world have always felt like two completely different worlds, maybe that's why Witches and Wizards who are muggle-born become outcasts. It's hard adjusting to a school but adjusting to a whole world at 11 is even harder. Even in your last year of Hogwarts you still didn't feel like you belonged, each summer going back to the muggle life that you have always known, working a summer job at a coffee shop and hanging out with muggles rather than wizards. You had friends in Hogwarts of course, some closer than others and even though it helped you feel more at home you knew that after Hogwarts you'd end up working a muggle job.

Maybe that's why entering your last year at Hogwarts didn't seem as intimidating because at the end of the day it didn't really matter what results you got in your N.E.W.T.S. Still in its own way you knew you'll miss the castle and the life you've lived in it. So your final train ride to Hogwarts felt a bit bittersweet. One thing didn't change, once again a new Defence against the dark arts teacher got introduced, this time one called Remus Lupin. He looked a lot kinder and nicer than the last one.

Your first week went by extremely quickly, quidditch practice hadn't started yet so you had more time to just hang out with your friends. All your lessons were easy so far as everyone was settling to being back. The new profesor was quickly becoming everyone's favourite due to his friendly nature, he seemed to befriend every student something no other profesor really did. You didn't really get to interact with him too much one-to-one during lessons as whenever he had free time the girls with a crush on him would jump onto the opportunity. You didn't really care about DADA as you wouldn't need it in the muggle world but you did understand why everyone was developing a crush, you had your own brewing for him.

It didn't take long for you to get home sick, homesick for the muggle world. Nothing really felt right to you, not even the food it just never tasted as good as what your mother would make, you missed your parents terribly it was a lot harder sending them owls than sending owls to wizard families, they didn't really grasp the concept. The twins could see that you were getting down again, they knew this happened every year after summer, and they've always tried to help lift your spirit. "Y/N we were thinking it was a good time to plan the first prank of the year what do you say?" Fred said. "Y/N is in her last year, she can't be participating in your silly games." Percy answered for you. "Who invited him?" George snapped back.

"Percy might be right I can't get in as much trouble as I did last year I don't want to get suspended, I'm on thin ice with old Minnie after the last prank we pulled before summer." You admitted, maybe you didn't care about your exam results but you didn't want to get suspended. The debate continued and you ended up agreeing to planning a prank that you may or may not help with. After dinner you decided to take a quick detour to the covered bridge, at the end of your fifth year you discovered it was empty in the evenings as it didn't lead to anywhere people would go at that time of night, it instantly became somewhere you would go for peace, and once you discovered smoking, it also got added to the list of secret smoking spots.

When you approached the middle of the bridge you saw a figure standing smoking a cigarette, you felt a bit gutted someone was using your spot but also excited at the idea of someone being so alike you. You approached them and they quickly put out the cigarette. "Don't worry man, I'm not a teacher I won't snitch." You claimed as you walked up to them before you could make out who it was.

"I know but I am." The figure replied, you were now close enough to make out that it was Professor Lupin. He was no longer leaning over the edge but standing straight with his hands in his pockets.

"I won't snitch if you won't?" You said pulling out your own packet of cigarettes. And his face turned to a gentle smile.

"I really shouldn't-" He protested. "Oh come on, you're new. This is normal." You preached. "Yeah Minerva and I do this all the time but don't tell her I told you." This got a laugh out of him.

"I may have believed you up until that point Y/N. But that's where you've lost me." He remembered your name and for some reason it made your heart skip for a second, he had so many students that he's met in one week and he still managed to memorise yours.

"Come on I'll give you a smoke if you don't tell anyone?" You reached out the pack to him "Camels?" He questioned while taking one. "You know them?" You took one out the packed for yourself before putting it away. "They're muggle smokes." He stated nonchalant, there wasn't any hate in those words which was rare around these halls. "I like them." You pulled out a lighter to light your cigarette while he snapped his fingers and it was instantly lit. "How did you do that? You instantly snapped back . "Do what?" He smiled while holding the cigarette in his mouth, he was attractive in the moon light. "Light it with a snap." You replicated his previous action. "It's a simple arson spell, just a small flame. I used wand less magic." He explained "If it's wand less why did you snap your fingers? Surely you could've just done it." You pressed. "Yes. You've got me there." He admitted. "So you were just trying to impress me?" Slipped out before you realised how those words could sound flirty, you barely knew the man. Truthfully if he wasn't your profesor and this was an interaction with a student you would be developing a stupid crush on them.

"You could say that." He said, with half a smile on his lips. "I'm the new profesor who you've just caught spending the evening by himself smoking, I don't want you to tell everyone I'm boring now I seem impressive."

"Or insecure." You shot back and he bit his lip and shook his head in disbelief at your words. He decided not to reply, instead went back to leaning over the bridge looking out into the darkness and smoking his cigarette and silence fell upon you both.

"I like the camel ones, just because the camel is cute." You broke the silence after a while, you felt bad for calling him insecure and wanted to kill the awkwardness. He laughed at your comment. "You know smokings bad for you? Even if the camel is cute." He said flicking the butt of his cigarette into the darkness. "I know." You quietly replied.

He checked his watch before standing up straight"Curfew has already started so don't stay out here too long as Snape is the one on duty today." He began to walk away. "Professor-" He turned around at your words. "This didn't happen right?" You questioned nervously. "What are camels?" He replied with a wink. "Have a good evening Y/N."

"You too Professor."

NEXT CHAPTER

#remus lupin x reader #student x teacher #teacher! Remus Lupin #professor lupin x reader #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #remus lupin #the maruaders #harry potter #remus love you #secret smokes

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twisted-wonderland-but-gayer · 1 year ago

Note

Hi!! Really like your writing could we possibly get a drabble or something like that of Middle Schooler Yuu?

Hell-Raising Gremlin: A Middle Schooler

Synopsis: Yuu is a cringy middle schooler that curses a lot and insults people

Cw: Cringe writing. Yuu is 12 and Gn. Cursing. They call Riddle stupid and tell Azul he's gay. No romance ofc. Not proofread

“What the fuck?” Was one of the first things that came out of your mouth when you kicked off the door to your coffin. A crowd of eerily robed people turned to stare at you as if you were the weird one for wearing normal clothes. Each person had matching eyeliner and wait, does that person have horns… and a tail? What sort of fucked up LARP furry cult were you kidnapped into?

“Honestly…” Another voice rang out “Coming through the door of your own accord is virtually unheard of, why are you in such a rush?” A bird masked individual said as he approached you, two glowing yellow orbs peaking through the mask, each part of his person accessorized to fit a perfect aesthetic. Okay, thats a pretty cool costume you’ll admit, but it still doesn't change that you are obviously in the wrong place.

"Um… probably because some strange carriage literally kidnapped me and forced me into a coffin and then I woke up here? I don't think I'm in the right place."

"Hmm I don't think you are entirely lucid yet… a side effect of the teleportation magic perhaps…" the man wondered out loud.

"Can you break character for a second and tell me where the hell I am, dude?" You glared at him and a few of the weird adults around you laugh. You keep a brave face despite the fear building up.

"You are at Night Raven College, a prestigious magician training school in Twisted Wonderland." The masked man states bluntly and confidently like that explains everything.

"Didn't I just say to break character? I'm not playing DND here or anything, I need to get home, I'm not supposed to be here in this weird cult thing… I need to get home!" a few more laughs reverberated in the crowd.

"I'm being serious, this is a school for magicians"

"Right well… I don't have magic. How's that?" You give a smug smirk. "So please send me home?"

The man just gives an infuriating blank expression. "Why, you are here because the black carriage recognized you as a powerful mage! You should be quite proud of that given how young to appear to be! Please stand by and the mirror will sort you into your dorm shortly!"

"I was kidnapped first of all, and I don't even have that weird robe thing! Look dude, you got the wrong person! I'll go up to that mirror right now and show you!" You assume this "magic' mirror was just some computer check in thing. Hopefully when you give your name it'll prove you aren't on the list of whatever the fuck this is.

"My, so hasty… such is the youth I suppose. Fine then, go up to the mirror."

You must give props to this actor for staying in character the full time, but now wasn't the time. As you approach the mirror you hear whispers, and you see 5 individuals and a floating tablet standing by it, looking as superior as they could. Some glared at you, others looked intrigued.

The mirror spoke, "State thy name."

"Yuu…"

"You're soul is… invalid… I cannot read it. Therefore I sort you in no dorm."

The crowd murmurs amongst themselves as the masked person looks genuinely surprised. "Well then. I must apologize, there must be some mistake." You exhale in relief. Finally he gets it. "Mirror, send this person home!" No response. Why was he asking the mirror?

"Ahem… Mirror take this person—"

"I cannot."

"... huh…" You frown

"This child's home is nowhere. They do not exist here. They are from another dimension. Therefore, they cannot be sent home."

The crowd's murmurs get louder. You still don't believe in this whole weird magic school act thing. "Are you fucking kidding me, did I seriously get isekaied by a horse drawn carriage?"

At that you see the floating tablet mute themselves. Before you could even turn around and ask for the masked man to get a real person to send you home, a strange creature runs in front of you. You stared at it in complete shock.

"Mrahaha! If they can't join this school, then there's room for me!" The weird cat thing talks. Flames came out its ears and its tail was forked. What the fuck, what the fuck. How is this cat on fire and talking?

The crowd laughed at the cat's words. "Oh yeah?! I'll show you!" The creature yells out. You didn't think much of it until you saw blue plumes of flames come from its mouth and aim directly into the crowd. The crowd yells and pushes each other around. You could feel the heat.

This couldn't be some high tech animatronic could it? You gawk as banners catch flames and you see some of the mages in the crowd casting water spells to put themselves out. Is this really another world…? No way… no way. You have to get hit by a truck for that! This just has to be a very weird fever dream...

Another blast of flames is fired across from you, growing bigger and bigger, threatening to engulf everything in the room. One person from before lets out an annoyed sigh and you see him turn to approach the flame.

Without thinking you immediately run over to pull him back catching him by surprise and making him stumble. "Dude, what are you doing?!" The doll faced young man looks over at you in shock, before his race reddens.

"How DARE YOU try to—"

"Riddle enough! They were just trying to help!" Another taller green haired mad says with a clover on his face. "Come with me…" the man says before pulling you back protectively.

You watch as the strange ruby-haired man, Riddle– what a stupid name–, approaches the weird cat. He raises his arm before lowering it. "OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!" He yelled, and a strange collar appeared around the cat. The flames around the room suddenly die.

"Hey what gives?! What I'll just… huh?! My magic! Its…"

"Sealed away. That collar around your neck does not allow you to use magic." Riddle states. "No cats are allowed are celebrations, your very existence here is a violation." A few robed figures go to grab their cat and toss him out.

"Damn…" you mumbles as you step put from behind the stranger that protected you.

"You there, child." Riddle states, still looking upset. "What you did was dangerous, you should have never stepped in to try to help."

Oh this dudes attitude pissed you off with how condescending he sounded. "Well sorry for trying to fucking make sure you didn't burn yourself. God forbid I didn't know you could do that weird collar thing."

The green haired man paled and the face of Riddle got red. "Excuse me?! You need to learn how to treat your superiors with respect–"

"I respect whoever respects me regardless of age! And you're not superior at all! You throw tantrums like a kid!" You spat back and the crowd seemed to laugh. The green haired man tries to pull you back. "Come on now, Yuu try to be nice…"

"Why would I? He's the one that started it! He can start yelling at people for no good reason but I can't? Hell who the fuck even names their kid Riddle its such a stupid name!"

Riddle was fuming at this point and everyone just seemed to either cringe or watch in rapt excitement. "IT IS NOT! You have not followed a single rule of the entrance ceremony! Those who don't follow the rules should be punished! Especially rude ones like you!"

"Did you not hear the mirror? I'm not from this world! I literally don't know any rules at all! How are you gonna get mad at me for that?! You're the one that keeps yelling for no reason and then getting mad at me for giving back the same energy? And now you're trying to threaten me!"

"Enough!" The red head yells. "Apologize now or it's off with your head!"

"Oh no my magic that I totally have! I'm so scared! Go ahead and do it! You're only punishing me because I'm right! You can't ever comprehend being wrong so you need to make yourself look stronger in every other way because you're a coward and a control freak! I may not have been in this world long, but something tells me in the real world you can't collar everyone that upsets you! You're a coward and a god damn fucking tyrant that feels the need to prove himself superior to a fucking TWELVE year old just because I had the audacity to try and help you! I am twelve and everyone here appears to be an adult yet none of you are actually helping me! I wanna go home!"

"Enough!" The masked man's voice yells out and you huff and look away. "That is enough for both of you." You look over at another man with blueish hair and glasses along with a mole struggling to hold in a laugh. You narrow your eyes. "Oh I just KNOW your bitch ass isn't laughing with your birthing hips and gay little face!" The man's eyes widen and he stares in shock for moment before looking down at himself. The crowd erupts in laughter.

"Yuu!" The masked man reprimands before sighing. "Dorm leaders! Take your students to their new homes! I will deal with this… situation" As everyone left, you glared at Crowley.

"It's about time you fucking listened me, hot topic wannabe ass." Crowley could tell that this child would fit in perfectly here.

#middle schooler yuu #twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #azul ashengrotto #azul ashengrotto x reader #riddle rosehearts #riddle rosehearts x reader #twst meme #twst memes #twst crack #crack #twst x reader #trey clover x reader #trey clover

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xxchumanixx · 7 months ago

Note

kind of inexperienced reader with john nolan and he wants to try some new things. (smutttttttt)

preferably thigh or face riding

Something new

John Nolan x reader

Warnings/Tags: 18+, mdni!, reader is a little inexperienced, thigh riding, smut

Word count: 786

Authors note: Hello love, thanks for the request! I know it's short, but I'm willing to do a second part with face riding. Hope you'll like it!

Enjoy!

A while ago, you and John had decided you wanted to spice things up a little.

You were still a little inexperienced, not having done much before other than the typical sexual activities like blow jobs and fucking, so John decided to take matters into his hands and show you a few things.

Right now he was struggling to keep himself together and not bend you over the table, pounding into you until you were screaming his name backwards.

You were standing in just your bathrobe before him, just about to shower, as he came home, sitting down at the table to write a shopping list, when you entered the room.

You wanted to take his hand and guide him to the bathroom to join you in the shower, but he had other plans.

"I want to try something new." John said, stopping you in your movement, his hands holding your hips in place.

Curious, you looked down at him, waiting for him to continue. Whatever it was he wanted to try, the heat pooling in-between your thighs only intensified at the unknown.

He guided you closer towards him, making you sit down on his thigh, causing your breathing to hitch, as your naked cunt made contact with the fabric of his jeans.

It was a new sensation, rough and somehow wild. It had you shivering in anticipation, heart hammering in your chest, as he unfastened the belt on your robe.

Then his hands found their way back towards you hips, fitting like a glove. They were made for you and only you.

"Okay..." he mumbled, the grip on your hips intensifying the slightest bit, as he carefully started to guide you.

"And now, just relax."

You did as you were told, trying to relax but stiffening, when he made you move on his thigh. The rough fabric of his jeans rubbed against your clit, a moan stuck in your throat.

It wasn't as pleasant as you might have hoped for, but John hushed you, eyes meeting yours. "It'll get better, I promise." he spoke softly, pecking your lips.

His hard-on was pushing at the front if his jeans, getting more and more uncomfortable for him. But he wanted to have you come on his thigh first, wanted to show you how good it would feel.

You nodded, relaxing again, as you exhaled shakily.

John started to move you again, forwards and backwards in a steady but building rhythm, tilting you slightly and there it was-

A moan escaped your lips, heat rushing towards your center and cheeks at the sudden pleasure the new angle brought you.

John smiled to himself, repeating the motion with more pressure.

It shot through your body, into your toes and up your head. The pleasure was constantly building, tightening the familiar knot in your stomach, as you stumbled towards your first orgasm of the night.

"John!" you breathed out his name in a raspy moan and he returned it with one of his own, biting his lip to concentrate on the movements, as your hands took a hold of his shoulders.

You slowly took over, getting faster. One of his hands cupped your breast, thumb brushing over the stiff nipple.

You jolted, seeing stars.

His lips attached to it, sucking at the peaked bud, tongue swirling around it. More sparks shot through you at his actions, toes curling.

"I'm close!" you rasped out, noticing how the fabric of his jeans became wetter from your arousal. It made it easier to move, as one of your hands fisted his shirt.

His other hand found your clit, thumb drawing quick circles, matching the speed of your movement, when he let go of your nipple.

"Come for me." he muttered in your ear and you followed his command, as you came hard.

The coil snapped, sending you straight over the edge, as your fluids soaked his thigh. It blinded you momentarily, his name falling off your lips in hushed whispers.

He helped you ride out your high as your legs gave out, eventually holding you in place.

Breathing heavily you tried to calm down.

John watched you with hungry eyes, waiting for you to come down from your high, glowing like a goddess.

"Wow." you managed to breathe out, chuckling at him. "That was amazing." He grinned back at you, before he made you stand up.

Looking down at his leg he tskd, shaking his head. "My my, look what a mess you made."

You blushed at his words, his need for you making them huskier. "Gotta clean that up."

You nodded eagerly, taking his hands in yours. "And I know just how to." you told him, walking towards the bathroom.

"Just relax."

Tag List

@newobsessionweekly @laheysfilm

@rookietrek @augustvandyne

@dhunhdchrihhchrih @nachofriess

#the rookie #the rookie imagine #the rookie x reader #the rookie x u #john nolan x u #john nolan x reader #john nolan imagine #john nolan smut #john nolan

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morning-star-joy · 1 year ago

Note

DONIIIIII MY LOVE, congrats on the amazing follower milestone! I would die a happy death for a Drabble of “Desperate "I thought you died" sex” or the waking up to oral cuz you know those two are ferrrrallll for each other and I wanna live vicariously through their sexytimes 🫠

MY LOVE!!!! Thank you for your request!! I was vibing really hard with the waking up to oral and ended up writing more than 700 words hehe. Threw in some other kinks too, so I hope you still enjoy it!

Pairing: Joel x F!Reader, established relationship, set in the ASHWAH universe but can be read standalone.

Warnings: Waking up with oral f receiving (discussed beforehand with given consent), multiple orgasms, unprotected p in v, praise kink, possessiveness, creampie, cumplay/cumeating, overstimulation

Wordcount: 1k

Part of my 700 follower celebration. If you want to send in a request for a drabble, check out the prompt list here!

You didn’t know if you had ever been more glad of the new steps in your relationship with Joel than in the moments he woke you up with his head between your thighs.

It had taken some time to adjust to the new parameters of your relationship—hell, it still was taking time for you both to get used to these changes, even now.

But the intimacy, although a bit awkward and hesitant at times, was still earnest in its sincerity, stemming from a longing to finally be as close to each other as you could be.

One night, when your eyes were heavy, sleep nearly pulling you under after a string of orgasms Joel had coaxed from you that night, his lips had met your ear, mumbling a deep question of, “Can I wake you up in the morning?”

“Hm?” you mumbled, blinking a few times to try and wake yourself up enough to process his question. “Joel Miller, if you wake me up from my sleep, you’re a dead man.”

He laughed then, a deep sound pressed against your ear that sent shivers down your spine. “I was thinking of making it pleasant for you, darlin’.”

Oh.

You were definitely a bit more awake now, turning your head to glance up at Joel from where he was spooning you from behind—a rare position for the two of you, as he usually liked your arms wrapped around him, but it was nice to be held like this by him every now and then.

“And how would you do that, exactly, cowboy?” you teased, lips tilting up into a smirk that he matched with his own before he pressed his lips to yours in a light kiss that became deeper, slower, longer.

“Mm,” he hummed, nibbling at your lower lip and licking along it, pulling a quiet moan from you that only made his smirk grow into a small, almost cheeky grin. “I was thinking an orgasm or two.”

You laughed, a sound he swallowed into his mouth with another kiss, and you threaded your fingers through his hair, marveling at how long the soft curls had gotten.

“I think I’d like that,” you whispered, sharing a few more kisses that became more chaste, softer and sweeter as sleep began to beckon towards you yet again, and you let it take you that time.

Joel did not take long to keep his word.

That next morning was the first one when you had woken up to a familiar pressure building in your lower stomach, pleasure coiling tightly as your back arched, hips lifting into the mouth that had sucked your clit into it, tongue flicking over the sensitive bundle of nerves until you were coming hard in a delicious orgasm before you could even remember your own name.

When enough realization of your surroundings came to you, it was his name that you remembered first, breathing out a moan of Joel that had him pressing his face further against your pussy, tongue delving inside your tight walls and making you cry out, thighs trembling where they hugged his face as he made you come a second time, just like he had promised.

Gasping and shaking, your eyes slowly blinked open, watching as his face appeared above yours, that same smirk playing on his lips that were coated with your release before he kissed you, sharing your taste with you and making you whimper, hands blindly reaching for his cock to have him inside of you first thing in the morning.

“Told you I’d make it pleasant for you,” Joel murmured against your lips as he sunk into you, grabbing your thigh to press your knee up against your chest so he could settle inside of you at a deeper angle, one that made you see stars each time he thrusted back into you.

“I—fuck,” you whispered, still hardly able to form a coherent thought, let alone a verbal sentence, pleasure from that sweet spot he kept hitting spreading throughout your body, the sound of his chuckle pressed against your skin as he bit your neck making you shiver.

“Made you come so hard you only knew my name, huh?” Joel whispered, dragging his nose up the curve of your neck until he was gently nipping at your jaw, fucking you faster now, pulling sharp gasps from your throat and grunts from his own. “Such a good girl, knowing who you belong to.”

“Joel,” you whined, and you could hear the smirk now without even looking at him just in the way he kept praising you while you were only able to moan his name over and over, eyes blind as he pulled another orgasm from you, one he gently coaxed you back down from with gentle kisses pressed over your face to soothe you.

That first morning, Joel had managed to pull out before he came, shooting ropes of hot cum over your thighs and lower stomach.

Other mornings, you had both fallen prey to the temptation of him pumping you full of his cum, moaning at the feeling of being completely joined in such a way before his face was moving back down your body to push his release back inside of you with his tongue, making you come again and again with his mouth until you couldn’t take it anymore.

“You’re a dirty old bastard, Joel Miller,” you teased one morning when you both collapsed back onto the bed, playfully avoiding his kisses with giggles streaming from your mouth as he tried to slip your combined cum dripping from his lips onto your tongue.

“Yeah,” he assented, wrapping his arms around your waist to keep you still, though giving you enough wiggle room to get away if you really wanted to, always giving you that choice and making you feel safe and secure by doing so.

You would never want to pull away from him now, though.

So you sunk into him, letting him kiss you as many times as he wanted, no matter how dirty and depraved it was, as he murmured against your lips, “But you like that.”

#joel x reader smut #joel x reader #joel x f!reader #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller drabble #doni 700 celebration

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late-to-the-party-81 · 1 month ago

Text

The day after tomorrow

AN: I’ve been planning this part of the story for a long time and only just been able to commit it to paper. Additionally, it ended up longer than planned, so I decided to keep this one as fluff and put the steamy stuff in another instalment that hopefully won’t take too long to get out to you. This takes place immediately after 'Tomorrow is not too late', and forms the third part of the series.

Feel free to send asks about Ari and Angel.

Not beta’d, but a big thank you to @christywrites for letting me bounce ideas off them.

Moodboard by me and dividers by @firefly-graphics

If you would like to be on my tag list, then please click here.

Master List | Series Master list

Summary: You’ve realised you were ready in your heart to change the relationship between you and Ari, but the realities of what that will mean in a physical intimacy sense leads to old insecurities raising their heads.

Relationship: Ari Levinson x Female Reader (Angel)

Word Count: 3.7k

CW: Fluff, Angst, Self-esteem issues, Ari being the biggest teddy bear.

The pair of you didn’t announce anything when you walked back into the building, but it seemed as though everyone already knew. Rachel threw you a smile and an eye roll that seemed to say ‘it’s about time’, and Max came up and just bumped his arm against Ari’s with a knowing look. And for anyone who hadn’t managed to immediately work it out, the way that Ari was in constant physical contact with you the rest of the evening was a dead give away. In fact, the only alone time you had for the rest of the party was when you excused yourself to the bathroom. Ari had looked at you with puppy dog eyes, as though he was afraid you were about to make a break for it, and his fingers had continued to hold onto yours for as long as possible, until the physical distance was longer than both your arms. As soon as you returned, his thick arms wrapped straight back around your waist and dragged you down to your previous place on his broad lap. You didn’t mind though. Your body was still awash with endorphins, and your heart was light and you enjoyed being snuggled up against his bear-like form, your nose full of the scent of his aftershave.

You stayed pressed against him during the lighting of the Menorah and the recitation of the brachah, observing him with a new kind of wonder. It was amazing to you that just uttering a few words between you could make just a massive shift in your relationship. That and a few kisses. Your bows drew together at that thought, because you knew what came after kisses and not only was sex something that had felt performative, it had also been quite a while. Almost five months. Also, Ari was, well Ari. Sex on legs. A wet fucking dream. You had no doubt he would be good at it. No. Strike that. Not good. Absolutely fucking amazing. However, you were just you.

Unwelcome thoughts intruded into your head. What if you were so rubbish compared to his previous girlfriends that he changed his mind about wanting to be with you? Kyle had never really had anything positive to say. The sounds of the conversation around you faded into a background hum, and all you could hear was the rapid beating of your own heart. Ari seemed to realise something was wrong because one of his large hands shifted from your waist to gently squeeze your thigh. However that brought to mind more sexual touching and your feelings of inadequacy grew even more. Would he be disappointed by the way you gave head? Would he think you too loud in bed, or not loud enough? What if, when he finally saw your body he was completely turned off? With your heart pounding in your chest, you leapt up from his lap with such suddenness, that the others lapsed into a surprised silence, the dreidel they’d been playing with coming to a stop. All of them looked at you intently - Ari most of all.

You took a little step back, your hands twisting together in front of you. “I… erm… it’s getting late…” You raised your arms above your head and affected a broad yawn. “I probably ought to go to sleep. Not used to these late nights.”

Ari’s lips twitched up into a little smile. “You know what, Angel? I’m pretty beat as well.” He reached out and snagged your hand with his, linking your fingers together and grabbing up the present bag with the other. “I think I’ll join you in hitting the hay. See you guys tomorrow.” With a small wave he bid the rest of the group goodnight, garnering a series of similar sentiments in return, and before you even had a chance to get your thoughts in order, he was drawing you out of the room and towards the stairs.

“Ari… wait.” You tugged on his hand and he came to a halt, turning around to look at you. He must have read the uncertainty in your face, or noticed the way your eyes darted, anxiety ridden up the stairs and into the darkness.

”Hey, sweetheart. Shit. I’m not trying to be presumptuous. Or at least not in that way. I’m just not ready to let go of you yet.” He took a few steps back down, in fact passing past you, just to stop below you so your eye lines were more level. “I promise no funny business, I just wanna hold you.”

You nibbled on your lower lip and looked down at your feet, and the bits of sand still clinging to your shoes.

“But,” he continued, “if you really aren’t comfortable I can call you a cab.”

You considered his words, but must have taken a little too long to respond, because you saw the smile leave his eyes, if not his face, as he reached into his pocket for his phone. He looked awkward, something unusual for such a self assured man. Realising what he’d interpreted from your silence, you reached out, placing your hand over the phone clasped in his much larger one.

”You got a t-shirt and shorts I can borrow?”

At your words, the light returned to his eyes and his smile broadened into a grin. He shoved his phone away and then, without warning, scooped you over his shoulder, taking the rest of the stairs two at a time. You squealed in amused surprise and gave him a light spank on his ass, given it was so close to your face. You felt his chuckle rumble in your abdomen, and you couldn’t help but giggle in turn. In a matter of moments you were back on your feet at the top of the stairs, and Ari was dragging you down the hall towards what was presumably his room.

When he pushed open a door at the end and gestured for you to precede him, you walked across the threshold full of curiosity - you’d never been here before and had no idea what to expect. However, it was just… normal. There was a desk holding a computer and a few notepads and pencils, a small bookcase with an eclectic selection of books, an easy chair placed close to the window that looked out across the beach, a dresser and a king-size bed, with cream and light blue covers. A door to the left of the bed presumably led to his en-suite. Overall it gave off an air of masculine functionality. There were a few framed pictures sitting on flat surfaces - ones of Ari and his friends and others that were presumably of his family. You turn a slow turn around the space, your fingertips trailing over surfaces and along the spines of the books. You could see Ari leaning against the doorframe leading to the bathroom from the corner of your eye, his arms crossed and a small smile gracing his pink lips, before he pushed away, placed the gift bag on the floor and began to rummage in his dresser.

Your short tour ended up at the side of the large bed, and you looked down at it, your anxiety fluttering once again in your stomach. This was Ari’s bed. The bed where he slept, probably naked. Where he touched himself. Where, no doubt he touched others - women more beautiful and experienced than you. You couldn’t imagine him not wanting to use his bed. But you trusted him, you reminded yourself, and he’d said there wouldn’t be any funny business. He was standing behind you - you could feel the warmth of his body radiating across the space between you, so with a deep breath you turned toward him, a smile plastered on your face.

His expression was soft, loving, as he looked down at you. He held a small pile of clothes in his hands. “Here,” he said, holding them out to you. “You can use these. There’s a spare toothbrush in the drawer in the bathroom, along with a fresh washcloth. I’m afraid I don’t have any make-up remover.” He stopped and cocked his head to the side. “I could go ask Rachel if she has any spare if you want?”

You took the proffered clothes and shook your head gently. “It’s fine. I presume you have soap in that bathroom of yours. I’ll manage.” You stood up on your toes and pressed a kiss to his cheek, still trying to bury your nerves. Ari stepped to the side as you edged past him and made your way into the bathroom. It was only when you shut the door and looked at yourself in the mirror that you let out a deep breath.

You were in Ari’s bedroom. You were his girlfriend and were going to spend the night in his bed. You! You peered at your reflection, trying to see what he saw, but of course, you could only see what you thought were flaws - how your right eye was just a little bit higher than your left, the small scar on your chin from when you’d fallen off your bike as a kid. You’d always thought your top lip a little too thin, and the space between your eyebrows and your hairline too wide. And, despite braces as a teen, two of your top teeth were still a little crooked. However, backing out now would be far too awkward, so, with another large inhale, you determined not to critique yourself anymore and damage your self-esteem further as you hurriedly shed your clothes and changed into the soft grey t-shirt and shorts Ari had loaned you.

As you removed your shoes for the second time that evening and shed your bra, you couldn’t hold back a small sigh of relief. Nor could you resist the urge to hold the t-shirt to your nose before slipping it over your head. It smelled of Ari and beach, and you thought that scent could entice you to relax any day of the week. You were glad of the drawstring on the waist of Ari’s shorts, otherwise they’d have dropped right off you, and although his shirt was big on you, it didn’t completely cover your ass and you would have felt too exposed without the second item of clothing.

You found the toothbrush and washcloth with ease and set to removing your make-up as best you could, before brushing your teeth. Your skin felt tight from the soap, and another rummage through the drawer turned up a small travel sized tube of moisturiser. You tried not to think about any previous conquest of Ari’s it may have belonged to as you smoothed it over your cheeks. Eventually though, there was no more putting off of the inevitable and you bundled up your party clothes and hooked your shoes over your fingers and returned to the bedroom.

Ari was sitting, perched on the edge of his bed, waiting for you. He’d also drawn the curtains, and swapped the lighting from that ceiling to the small lamp on the table next to his bed. He held his own bundle of clothes in his lap. You really shouldn’t be this nervous. It’s not like Ari hadn’t seen you looking worse than this on many occasions before. But this was different, and both of you knew it.

“You’re all sorted?” he queried, and you nodded.

“Yup, squeaky clean. Thank you.”

”I’m just gonna…” he pointed toward the bathroom you’d just vacated and you felt heat flood your cheeks at his chivalrous action. It was his room, he was well within his rights to get ready for bed where he wanted, but it was obvious he was giving you the space you needed. “You pick a side and I’ll be back in a moment.”

Alone again, you stepped over to the window, placing your clothes on the chair, and your shoes underneath, before pulling back the edge of the curtain and looking out across the beach. Lights from downstairs spilled out across the sand for a few feet, and some of the waves picked up reflections as they danced to and fro, carefree. Returning to the bed, you lifted the edge of the coverlet and slipped onto the left side of the mattress, lying on your side so close to the edge your ass was almost falling out.

True to his word, Ari was only a matter of minutes in the bathroom and when he came out you had to tamp down a jolt of desire. Even if he did normally sleep naked he wasn’t doing so tonight. He had on a light grey tank top and a pair of black, long legged pyjama pants, and somehow made the combination look like the most sexually slurring outfit ever conceived.

He looked a little shy as he slid into the bed next to you, turning on his side to face you. The soft yellow light from the lamp played over his features, and you didn’t even notice that you’d reached out to tuck a lock of his hair back from his face until the silky strands were between your fingers.

”I meant what I said out on the beach, Angel. I love you, and have for a long time. I was happy to wait for you to catch up with me, and as I’ve said before, I’m happy to wait until you’re ready for anything else, but I would love to hold you for a bit, if that’s alright?” His expression was so earnest, and you couldn’t lie that you yearned for his touch.

”I’d like that too,” you replied, and shifted toward him. He opened his arms and you lifted your head to allow the lower one to become your pillow. Your face pressed into the crook of his neck and shoulder, his shaggy hair tickling your nose, as his arms wrapped around your waist. The pair of you had cuddled many times before, but it had never felt this intimate before, despite Ari’s attempt to be gentlemanly. Your breasts just touched his chest, but below your waists, your bodies were angled away from each other. You felt his lips press against the top of your hair and you tilted your head back to look into his ocean blue eyes. He was so fucking beautiful, it almost hurt, and you felt a need grow within you, a need to feel his lips on yours once again, even if you didn’t feel worthy of his affection. “Kiss me,” you murmured before you could lose your nerve.

Ari’s lips turned up and his eyes crinkled as he closed the scant space between you. This kiss was as electric as that first one on the beach. His large hands held you gently, but firmly as his lips trailed across yours. He didn’t deepen the kiss until you opened your own lips with a soft whine, inviting him into your mouth. However, even then you could tell he was tempering his lust. Was he only holding back because you’d asked him to, or, the insidious voice in your head asked, was it because he didn’t actually want to be close to you? Your doubts rose in volume, a cacophony inside your mind, and you pulled back, shrinking away from him.

Ari looked at you quizzically. “Angel? Are you alright? I didn’t go too far did I? If I did, I didn’t mean to.”

”Oh? No!” You didn’t want him to feel bad about himself, and you felt silly, second guessing his intentions. “Nothing like that.” You pulled your lower lip between your teeth and looked up at him, shyly. “I just realised you haven’t opened your present yet.”

Ari raised an eyebrow. ”If you were concerned about that, then I obviously wasn’t kissing you properly. Nice try, but I think you’re deflecting. You actually wanna talk about what’s going on in that beautiful head of yours? If you’re having any second thoughts - any doubts - maybe we ought to talk about it sooner rather than later?”

You knew it made sense, but lying down like this felt far too intimate - far too intense. You pushed yourself up into a sitting position, back up against the headboard and the coverlet pulled up to your chin. Ari followed your lead, sitting up next to you, but he turned his body to face you better. You twisted the fabric you held in your hands and opened your mouth to speak, but the words wouldn’t come, you let out a sigh and shut your mouth again.

”Sweetheart?” Ari said softly, and then leaned forward to brush the back of his hand against your cheek. “Whatever it is, we can work it out. I love you, remember? You’re my Angel.”

He was being so sincere, you could tell, but your own mind was twisting you around. “What if I’m not good enough?” you whispered, and a tear, unbidden, started to roll down your face.

In a moment Ari had closed the distance between you, and he had you wrapped once more in his arms and pulled to his chest, and it didn’t feel awkward, it just felt like all of those previous times, back when you and Ari had just been friends. Best friends. “Hey,”he cooed. “Of course you’re good enough. You’re the sweetest, kindest person I know. I hope you’re not telling me that I’m not a good judge of character?”

You let out a ‘harumph’ sound at his gentle teasing. “Not like that. I mean, what if I’m not good enough… at sex?” The admission flowed out of your mouth like water over a cliff edge.

Ari eased you backwards, so he could look at you, disbelievingly. “What on earth are you on about?”

You wiggled in his grip and he let you go easily. You got up from the bed and started to pace back and forth in front of the window. “It’s been a long time for me. And I’m just me, and you’re…well, you! I’m a frigid cow, and you’re a sex a god.”

Ari bristled. “Who told you that? No. Let me guess. Kyle?”

You couldn’t meet his eyes, just wrapped your arms tighter around yourself. It was all the answer Ari needed.

”Sonofa… You know, if I ever meet this guy, it’s gonna be the worst day of his life. Angel, please come sit down. You’re making me dizzy with all that pacing.”

You climbed back onto the bed, but stayed atop the covers, your legs curled under you. Ari unwrapped your arms and held your hands with his own. “Now, let me know if I’m in the right ballpark… I’m guessing that foreplay was a foreign word to that douchebag? I bet he never took the time to warm you up. Touch you just right until you actually desired intimacy? He probably never worshipped this beautiful body of yours and made you feel like the most precious thing in the universe. Did he ever give you an orgasm? Or did he just use your body to get off and then roll over and start snoring?”

You peered at Ari, wondering how he knew so much, and at the same time you couldn’t help but imagine Ari doing all those good things to you. “I had orgasms,” you argued, not wanting to come off as a total doormat in your previous relationship.

”Ones that weren’t ’happy accidents’ or self-induced?” Ari was obviously psychic, and the way you ducked your head and looked away from him gave him all the answers he needed. “I promise you, Angel, when you’re ready for more, I’ll treat you right. I’ll treat you the way you deserve to be treated. As for your comment about me being a sex god…” his thumbs stroked over your knuckles and you couldn’t ignore how tuned-in you were to the softness of his touch. “I’m not going to do myself a disservice - I know what I’m doing, how to give my partner all the pleasure they’d wish for, but I need you to know that since I moved here, you’re the first woman to ever be in this room.”

Your eyes widened at his admission and a slightly shy expression crossed his face. “I mean, Rachel has been in here, but strictly in a platonic sense. And I’m not saying I was living a monk’s life, but there’s never been anyone special enough to bring here, and you know there was no-one at all after we met.”

”But…but…,” you stammered, feeling completely poleaxed by his admission. Yes, he’d said it, but you hadn’t thought he’d actually meant it. You wouldn’t have blamed him. “You’re so… I mean… women throw themselves at you all the time.”

Ari chuckled. “Yeah, they might, but I have standards, and to be honest, these last few months, all my attention has been solely on the most angelic woman I ever met.” You ducked your head again, feeling heat rise up into your cheeks in embarrassment at his words.

”So,” he continued, “I mean it when I say I will wait for you to be ready, and when you are, I’m gonna prove to you how good it can be. Now, will you let me hold you, and maybe give you another kiss before we sleep? I need to make the most of it, before you leave me for a few days.”

Tears of joy, mingled with a little shame at the way you’d second guessed him, gathered in your eyes. “Sure. And I’m sorry for being such a mess.” You pulled your hands from his to clamber back under the covers, allowing him to then pull you close once more.

”I’ve seen you worse than this, Angel,” he teased with a smile.

You grinned back ”Gee, thanks. Now, what were you saying about kisses and cuddles?”

As Ari’s lips descended on yours again you decided you need to trust both him and yourself as well as the love between you.

Tag list: @alexakeyloveloki, @doasyoudesireandlive, @goldylions, @crayongirl-linz,

@nicoline1998enilocin, @king814318, @blackhawkfanatic, @scram1326,

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#ari levinson #ari levinson x reader #ari levinson x you #ari levinson x female reader #Series: Ari and his Angel

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