#yes I am being cringe in the tags :3
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I see, understandable
#hetalia#aph#hws#aph hungary#hws hungary#she's violently cute#violently stabs you but in a uwu way ❤🔪#yes I am being cringe in the tags :3
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⌜Everybody knows I'm a good girl, officer | E. Sohn⌝
꒰ PAIRING ꒱ Police officer!eric x fem!reader ꒰ SYNOPSIS ꒱ Meeting the police officer a few times and experiencing pent-up frustration at work can lead to something… exciting. ꒰ WORD COUNT ꒱ 3150 words (oops) ꒰ TW ꒱ 18+, car sex, a lot of cringe teasing and dirty talk, degrading praising pet names (good/pretty slut, etc), y/n calling eric “officer”, ass spanking, riding (lmk if I missed anything!) ꒰ NOTE ꒱ I am not dead (yet lol), I’m attempting to get over my blank page syndrome! I hope this will help… also an Audi RS3 is a super powerful, loud car (my dream car), just so you know 😉 ꒰ REQUESTED ꒱ no! (but tagging my lovely @shmooooo i hope it’s not too bad <3)
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“Good morning, Officer,” you greeted with a smile as you got out of your vehicle parked not far from the police station to get to your work.
Honestly, working next to a police station had its benefits. Seeing handsome men in uniform was always a sight to see and knowing that they could be there in the snap of a finger in case of emergency reassured you.
“Morning, ma’am,” the officer answered after finishing talking to a colleague through a talkie-walkie, giving you a polite nod and a brief smile. You keep walking until you hear the same voice calling out for you.
“Ma’am, can I ask you a question?” “Sure,” you turned around, looking in the man's eyes. He maintained eye contact for a few seconds before clearing his throat, shoving his hand into his uniform pocket. “You are the owner of this car, correct?” he asked as he pointed at your black Audi RS3, and you nodded, staring up at him. “Yes, why?” “It’s not the first time that I see it poorly parked, you should be careful. It might disturb the traffic and cause an accident, or someone could accidentally smash it if they’re not paying enough attention,” you obediently nodded again, offering him your best smile. “I promise to be careful next time. Have a good day, Officer!”
However next morning, you parked yourself the same way you did yesterday, the same police officer standing in front of the station. You got out of your car as if it were nothing, but you immediately bumped against a broad chest, recognising the same masculine fragrance as yesterday.
“Ma’am? What did I tell you yesterday? Your back tyres aren’t among the lines, and they’re almost hindering the traffic. Next time I catch you doing this I’m giving you a fine, understood?” “Yes, Officer Sohn,” you mumbled as his name tag was almost hitting your nose at your proximity. “Good.” You stared up at him for a few seconds and apologised again before he stepped aside, nodding again before walking away, going back to his spot in front of the police station.
You were doing this on purpose because he was hot, and the uniform didn’t help at all. You wanted to see how long you could play dumb until it went too far, but what could happen aside from a fine? Maybe something amazing? you considered.
The next morning, you weren’t in the mood to play. You had started your day pretty badly, the waitress at the Starbucks drive-through had accidentally spilt your beverage on your brand-new blouse as she handed you your drink, not only ruining the fabric but also your mood and your good hopes of having a good day. And after being stuck in traffic for god knows how long, you finally made it to your workplace.
“Ma’am, this time-“ “Yes, Officer, I know that I’m not parked inside the lines, I know. Have you seen the side of your parking spaces and my car? It just won’t fit, and I just can’t take public transport from where I live, it’s way too far from my workplace to function properly the rest of the day. So just give me a fine so I can just move on from this shitty day,” you snapped at the officer, whose eyes opened widely, and he took a step back, giving you space.
You sighed in annoyance and stared up at him, seeing him keeping a relaxed attitude somehow managed to calm you down a bit, which was something unexplainable.
“Rough morning?” he calmly asked, hand going to his talkie-walkie to quickly dismiss it as his colleague's voice started buzzing from it. “Yes, this morning's rough. I just want to go home to forget about everything,” you annoyingly said while looking at the traffic jam happening in front of you, the police officer looking at you with his hands on his hips. “Okay, this is the last time I let you run away with this, but I’m being very indulgent. But tomorrow when you arrive, you better park well, understood?” “Yes,” you sighed before walking inside the building without sparing a glance at the man you left on the sidewalk.
Your day didn’t get better despite praying whatever God to help you. As soon as you stepped foot in the building, the big boss saw you with your stained top and had to share his opinion in front of everyone, telling your manager that she wasn’t doing a great job at teaching her employees the dress code.
So, of course, when the CEO was out of sight, she took all her anger on you, and it exploded in a big fight in the open space. All the precedent events had already angered you, but this was just the cherry on top. You almost said things that could have gotten you fired, and you were frustrated when she took her afternoon off for “personal issues”, leaving you to take care of all her daily assignments alone.
When you got out of work, you were mad at the world, ready to punch someone and yell out your frustration. You cursed the police officer under your breath as you saw a fine tucked in between your windscreen wipers as you approached your car, quickly entering it after ripping the paper from the wiper. You fastened the seatbelt and manoeuvred out of your parking space, flooring the accelerator pedal as the motor roared in the street you were in, drawing attention to you, but you couldn't care less. It felt like a bit of your frustration was gone by speeding, but it was too good to be true.
Going over the speed limit in front of the police station was not your smartest move. You whined, noticing blue and red lights in your rear-view mirrors when you entered the highway, pulling over as soon as possible, trying not to sink further into your crimes and misery. You felt like crying as you turned off the engine and pulled out your driving license alongside your car registration documents, rolling down the window as someone knocked on it.
“Ma’am, what a surprise! Seems like you and I see each other a lot those days,” He said as you wordlessly handed him your documents, looking straight ahead of you, jaw clenched to not break down in utter anger and despair in front of him.
He cleared his throat, “Y/N Y/L/N, what a pretty name. It’s such a shame that we didn’t meet in other circumstances, but with your bad parking, going over the speed limit on the national road and the highway, I’m afraid you might lose this,” he said, brandishing your driving license between his fingers.
“You know, Officer, I’m starting to think that you’re stalking me. I always seem to coincidentally land on you when I do something wrong,” you pettily spat, getting aggressive as you were about your lose your only way to go to work.
“Trust me, ma'am, you can call yourself lucky not to have met my superior yet. Captain Lee is not as lenient as I am. He’d give you a fine for everything that I’ve just stated, plus the non-validity of your license, for example. It expired a week ago.” He stated, opening your car door and taking your car keys, your eyes widening.
“Fuck, I forgot to make an appointment for this shit,” you rested your head against the headrest behind you and took your purse, getting out of your vehicle. "I'm going to need you to watch your language, ma'am," he smirked, as you huffed, slamming the car door behind you.
His hand hovered above your lower back, and he opened the tinted back door of the police car. As you sat down, you gave the officer puppy eyes but he chuckled and shook his head side to side, lifting the portable tray at the back of his seat to fill out a form.
“That won’t work with me, ma’am, even if it looks very tempting to not worsen your day even more.” You just shrug at his words, waiting for him to be done writing down all your infractions and give you that damn fine to go home. “It’s okay to be a bad girl sometimes though, it helps to get back on the right track,” he said as if he was chit-chatting with a friend about the most normal topic, his pen scribbling some details and ticking some cases on the paper. A smirk tugged on his lips as he saw your eyes widen in shock out of the corner of his eyes, not expecting the conversation to take this turn.
You gulped and folded your legs on top of the other, the tip of your heel almost touching his thigh, “what makes you say I’m a bad girl? I’m just a good girl with bad days, there’s a slight nuance,” you said, your foot eventually grazing against his leg.
He was quick to drop his pen and seized your bare calf, brown eyes boring into yours.
“Are you sure you want to play that game, Miss Y/L/N?” he asks, his voice getting deeper as you innocently smirked. “What game, Officer?” you answered back, the man standing in front of you. “Don’t try to act innocent. You and I both know exactly what you’re doing,” he grunted, and you moved your hair out of your eyes. “And? Do you like it?” you neared his face with yours with a smirk, your breaths mixing at your proximity. “Way more than I want to admit,” he grinned before grabbing the back of your neck to pull you in a languish kiss, your legs automatically wrapping around him. He pushed you backwards and closed the door behind him in a swift tug, his weight forcing you to lie down across the back seats.
The kiss was messy yet full of lust, your hand going in his hair to throw his cap and tug on the dark strands, a low grunt erupting from the back of his throat. When you pulled away out of breath, you brought your thumb to his lips to clean the stains of your lipstick on them, finding him even hotter at the sight of his reddened lips and lazy, lustful eyes.
He doesn’t waste a second and dives in your neck, leaving burning hickeys on your sensitive skin as he made his way down to your breasts.
He drew your blouse down, a few buttons ripping at his strength, and you gasped, undoing the buttons of his uniform as quickly as you could. He chuckled at your hastiness, eyes drawn to your white lacey bra.
“As sexy as it looks on you, I need that off,” he mumbled and you rested on your elbows, allowing you to reach behind you and unclasp your item of lingerie, throwing it at his face with a giggle.
“Oh god,” you mumbled as he immediately sucked on your breast, his free hand cupping your boob and flickering your other nipple.
“I know I’m a god, but today is Officer Sohn for you. Does that feel good darling?” he asked while trailing hot kisses down the valley of your breasts. You hummed in satisfaction, stroking his hair away from his face.
“So good, Officer,” you barely had to mutter before getting flipped on your stomach. You smirked as the police officer harshly spanked you before sitting in the middle seat, the action making you whimper as your bare nipples grazed against the rough leather seats.
He bunched up your pencil skirt up to your waist and sighed in pleasure as he discovered the matching panties, feeling the warm fabric and the plush skin of your ass. He gave it a spank, on the other cheek this time, followed by another, and another, making you whisper ‘yes Officer’ after each spank, mentioning all the laws you’ve broken, giving you a taste of how important they were with the intensity of his spank. It burnt too good, you couldn’t help getting wet at his ministrations.
“You like getting your little ass spanked, don’t you? I was right about you being a bad girl, you were just too shy and proud to admit it,” he whispered in your ear as one of his hands soothed the imprints of his palm on your ass cheeks, the other teasing and poking your already dripping hole through your ruined panties.
“O-Officer, more please,” you begged and whined, your core clenching at his teasing fingertip.
“You needy slut, look at how wet your pretty cunt is for me,” he smacked your ass harshly as those words escaped from his pretty lips, the sting slowly turning into pleasure making your eyes roll at the back of your head and moan.
His hands on your sides, he hoisted you on his lap while his mouth roamed around your neck, creating a chain of hickeys from one collarbone to the other.
He helped you grind your clothed core against the rough fabric of his uniform, looking up at you as your jaw fell agape, a fire starting in the pit of your stomach. Looking down, you teasingly smiled, angling yourself just right for your core to rub against the grip of his gun.
“Don’t play this game, pretty slut, you don’t know what I’m capable of,” he smirked as he undid his belt, soon helped by you, slipping your hand in his boxers to give his hard shaft slow, precise strokes.
"You're so hard, Officer," his head rolled back at your words, watching your spit drop from your pretty lips to his angry tip, a lust-laced smile decorating your lips turning into a moan as you aligned his cock with your entrance.
He wasn’t the thickest guy you’ve had sex with, but for sure was he the longest. Once he bottomed out inside you, he felt like he was poking your stomach, reaching so deep inside you that you could almost cum at how full you felt.
“Oh my, Y/N, you feel so good,” he mumbled, and you started rocking your hips against his, your clit getting friction thanks to the underwear he kept on.
“Oh you call me Y/N now-ngh!” you teased but immediately squealed as he slapped one of your breasts, the shock sending electricity throughout your entire body.
"Shut up and ride me like the good slut you are."
The car started rocking side to side as his hands were on your hips, having the upper hand on the tempo. He felt divine, and the adrenaline of doing it on the side of the road with someone from the authorities had you more sensitive than usual. He could feel you clench hard around his cock, but kept a steady rhythm, slightly ignoring your cries of pleasure getting louder and louder each second passing by.
"You're so fucking tight," he grunted before smacking your ass, the pleasure making you lurch forward in a yelp.
You looked so pretty on top of him, face scrunched in pleasure as your boobs bounced beautifully right in his face, your hands desperately trying to hold onto something as you couldn’t stop whispering his rank, which turned him on and fuelled his ego to the max.
He pulled you down by the back of your neck in a kiss, muting both of your moans and whines of pleasure as his dick was deliciously grazing against your tight walls, hitting the right spots at each thrust.
“Oh god, I’m cumming, fuck, Officer, shit, shit, shit, just like that! Shit!” you yelled as you collapsed on top of him because of the intensity of your orgasm, thighs shaking as he was still sharply thrusting his cock inside your core, helping you ride your high as you cried and shook in overstimulation.
Repeatedly clenching hard around him, your actions brought him right in front of his orgasm, low moans increasing in volume as he was so close to reaching his high.
“A-ah, fuck darling, get off!” he grunted as you collapsed on the seat next to him, just in time to let his seeds spurt out and land on your stomach in a chain of low grunts of your name, his fist pumping his shaft to empty himself fully on your body.
As you were catching your breath, head resting against the inner part of the door, the young officer softly smiled at you in post-coital bliss, bending himself to come and kiss your knees up to your inner thigh, his tongue giving a few licks to your slit as your thighs started trembling in overstimulation.
“I can’t let your juices stain the seats, even if I really want to,” he smirked as his tongue ran over his lips, tasting bits of yourself.
He got out a pack of tissues from the front seat and gently cleaned up his cum off your body, an apologetic look on his face as he didn’t have anything softer to remove his mess from your body.
You thanked him anyway and you both started to get dressed again, closing your blazer fully as your blouse was ruined. As you were about to reach for your panties, the officer was quick to catch them and shove them in his pants pocket.
“Those are coming home with me,” he smirked, and you rolled your eyes, tugging your pencil skirt down to hide your clammy core with a scoff. “You perv. You better buy me another pair, then. And another blouse,” you said as he fumbled with something behind his neck. "You really never learn. Calling me a perv is insulting behaviour towards an officer and could get you arrested and fined, you know that?" he opened your palm with a smirk and dropped something metallic inside, only to find his military necklace with his name engraved on it.
Eric Sohn.
“I know," your voice trailed as your eyes lingered on his torso as he was buttoning his shirt up, your arrogance making him shake his head. "So I’ll see you around?” you questioned with a smile and Eric was quick to kiss your neck as an answer, licking and sucking on the sweaty skin to tease you more. “If you’re free, we can go on a lunch date on Friday afternoon. Hopefully, you’ll be a good girl in the meantime,” he chuckled, and you pressed your lips on his, tongues dancing together. “I can’t promise you anything Officer, but I’ll try my best.”
Liar.
You exited the car like it was a normal thing and went back to yours, still in a trance and a bit of shock at what just happened.
One thing that you were sure of was that you were going to take your Friday afternoon off, no matter what your manager had to say.
Because with the teasing look Eric gave you, what you’ve just experienced was the starter.
#velvetyh#the boyz#the boyz smut#the boyz eric#the boyz sohn eric#sohn eric#sohn eric smut#tbz#tbz smut#kpop#kpop smut#the boyz dark hours#eric smut#the boyz imagines#the boyz smut imagines#the boyz x reader#eric x reader#eric sohn x reader#tbz x reader#tbz scenarios#eric smut imagines#sohn eric x reader#tbz sohn youngjae#tbz sohn eric#tbz au#tbz police au#the boyz hard hours
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Ideas I have floating around in my head, in case anyone ever wants to helps me plan out this Doctor Strange AU (I think I will continuously add on to it as more ideas pop into my mind)
• Wong is part of this, I think he’s either be Stephen’s magician assistant or something.
•My idea is that Christine is attending one of Stephen’s magic shows (he’s a Sorcerer in this universe, but just passes it off as being a magician, basically for money) (they’re also not allowed to tell anyone that Sorcerers actually exist, but Stephen will break that rule later) Stephen ends up getting hurt, maybe cause he summons a dangerous creature or something and everyone’s like, “wow so real!” And Christine being a nurse, helps him to a hospital. I think he would wake up and see Christine, thinks he’s dead cause she’s so beautiful, and would also audibly say “Am I dead? You look like an angel” and Christine would just become flustered and explain to him. And just nurse him back to health and they grow closer cause of that. (Also, wasn’t sure if I wanted Stephen to start off with facial hair or not, I was thinking maybe he grows the facial hair while he’s being taken care of at the hospital, and Christine says she likes it, so he keeps it)
•Feel like Stephen would ask Christine if she’d like to be his lovely assistant for some of his magic shows, she agrees but she’s still a nurse first. Wong is happy that he gets a little break and it helps Christine & Stephen get a little closer too. But Christine will still think that Stephen is somewhat of a ladies man (just a smidge)
•He asks Christine out (whatever the equivalent of Late Victorian Era, asking out is??)
•Idk if Niagara Falls was a popular tourist destination at this time, maybe? I’m going to assume it was. (This was the only place I could think that would be great for a date and also it’s near New York so..)
•This is when some of the spiciness starts: after a few dates, they go on a trip somewhere on a train. Like a 1 or 3 day trip on a train, little romance insues and when they’re going back home they maybe make out a little (or just full blown sex on a train somehow) idk I just imagined Christine saying she enjoyed her time with him, puts her hand on his cheek, they kiss, Stephen kisses her hand, then just full blown sexy times. The sexual tension has been boiling over for awhile now.
• It’s just really sweet, their first time together is more sweet and romantic. Opera sex is where we really get somewhere haha
•Also had a dream of some kind of plot where, I guess Stephen and Christine have a falling out, and she tries to make him jealous by going out with that Nick guy (you know Nick, that one guy who hates Stephen in the movie pff) The scene involved all 3 of them at a cafe or restaurant or something (and Wong tagged along too, for emotional support) and Christine just like starts French Kissing, Nick for a long time, making moaning sounds, again, to make Stephen jealous. And Stephen is just like faking a smile, with a slight head tilt the whole time but getting made the whole time. And Wong’s just like 😬 cringe.
•(More spice 🥵🥵) Stephen likes “hey guys, let’s go to an opera!” All 4 go, and Stephen gets Christine by herself and apologizes and says he’s sorry and maybe that he loves her too, Christine is like “I just want you to make love to me.” They have mind blowing sex during the opera, somewhere haha. (They both climax during the final epic dramatic opera note!!! 🎶🎶) (Stephen gets the very tongue-y, wet French Kiss & moans this time)
• (this fits more with the Opera sex tbh) Stephen “Since I’m sure that you know so much about the human body, being a nurse. Am I doing this right?” Christine “Yes, you are” (idk what they’re doing but they’re both enjoying it haha) (on second thought, he’s probably fondling her, they’re probably fondling each other TBH) Kissing each other’s bodies, all that good smutty stuff!
•During all this, Wong and Nick are just sitting together in silence, Wong tries his best to start a convo, they’re both wondering where the heck Christine & Stephen went and why it’s taking so long (idk this needs SOME humor)
•Obviously Christine breaks it off with Nick and her and Stephen end up back together. Wong’s like “how did your talk go?” Stephen is just all post-sex blissed out is like “Great”, Christine “We’re great”. Wong, under his breath “I’m sure you are” Stephen, gives him a quick side glare. They both had to fix themselves up pretty good after the amazing sex they had, they manage to look like nothing happened)
• Maybe Christine & Stephen get into a fight and break it off for a bit, because Stephen tells her that he’s actually a Sorcerer. And idk she gets cause he didn’t trust to tell her (after he proves it). But he only lied to her because he didn’t want her to get hurt. After they get back together, he freely shows her his magic and she loves it.
•I feel like Christine would wear this dress
• Mordo exists now (since I guess he’s the main Doctor Strange villain so far) or Nick too?? Maybe? I feel like Mordo will find out that Stephen cares for Christine a lot and use that to his advantage. Feel like he can kidnap Christine and be like “You’re very beautiful, and very much Strange’s type. I can see why he’s been protecting you.”
•Mordo would probably confront Stephen first (forgot if Mordo still has sorcerer powers too, he hasn’t been on screen in awhile haha 😬) but maybe he reads Stephen’s mind and he’s like “Who’s this…Christine?” Stephen: “She’s nobody of your concern.” Mordo: “For someone who isn’t of my concern, she sure occupies a lot of your mind, some would say, your every thought actually.” (Then maybe they fight or Stephen gives him a very proper threat idk)
#doctor strange#stephen strange#palmerstrange#christine palmer#marvel#benedict cumberbatch#rachel mcadams#doctor strange au#doctor strange moodboard#doctor strange smut#late victorian#victorian gothic#1890s fashion#1890s#Doctor Strange Mordo
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Too Close for Comfort 1
No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, a grumpy man, age gap, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: You find a place to stay for the semester but your landlord is less than hospitable.
Characters: Joel Miller
Note: I said I'd get to Joel and I'm sorry to neglect everyone else lol.
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 <3
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)
Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖
The suburban sprawl awes you as you steer down the gentle curving avenues, taking in the trimmed hedges and the short picket fences. The neighbourhood is a stark contrast to the grim backstreets where you grew up. As you turn into the bright cul de sac, you can't help but wonder if you put the wrong address into the app.
The automated voice declares you've reached your destination just as you drive past the house from the posting. You hiss as you confirm the metal numbers mounted on the brick are the very same. You swerve into the nearest lot and reverse, forgetting to look as you do.
A loud honk has you slamming on the brakes as a large truck flashes its lights in your rearview. You give a sheepish wave and cringe, waiting for them to pull in. You sink down as you notice the bulky Chevy roll expertly into the lot in front of the very house that distracted you.
You hold in a groan and back up, straightening the wheel and parking along the curb. A man drops heavily to his feet from the pick-up, slamming the door behind him. You wince and grip the steering wheel nervously. That must be the man you emailed.
Great first impression...
You open your car door to get out only to be trapped by your seat belt. You quickly click the button to release yourself and climb out of the car. You step up on the curb as the man scowls towards his front door, tramping up the cement walk between neatly groomed grass.
"Um, excuse me, Joel?" You call after him, "are you Joel Miller?"
He stops before the bottom step of the porch and pushes his head back with a growl. He turns to face you, agitation creased above his brows. You try to smile but your lips only tremble.
"Um, sorry to bother, I'm the one who messaged you. Er, about the room. You know, uh, online?" You wave your phone at him and his eyes dully focus on the gesture.
He crosses his arms. You shift your weight on your feet, not daring to break the threshold of his lawn. Right, you don't think this is going to work out. You should've known it was too good to be true.
"I'm sorry--"
"I'm Joel," he interrupts, "you're my one o'clock," he checks his watch, a brown leather band strapped around his thick tanned wrist, "you're early."
"I... yes, I am. I hate being late--"
"Doesn't matter," he dismisses tersely and twists on his heel.
He climbs the front steps of the two-storey house as you watch helplessly. His broad shoulders stretch the thin cotton of his tee shirt as he rolls his shoulders and keys in the code to the front door. You slump your shoulders, hooking your fingers in your pockets as you make to turn back.
"You wanna see the room?" He calls to you before you can retreat.
"Oh, uh, sure," you hop in place and quickly scurry up the wall, "er, that would be great."
You clatter up the steps, tripping over the last one. He stands by the door, staring at you dully as he holds it open for you. You show your teeth appeasingly as you approach.
"Take your shoes off," he points you inside.
You step onto the mat and bend to untie your sneakers. He enters after you with a sigh. You quickly sidle out of his way as he nearly bumps into you. You slide your shoes aside and stand as he thumbs off his boots.
"It's above the garage," he points to the east wall. That is east, right?
"Sure, uh, cool," you follow him past the staircase.
He leads you to a door just before the kitchen and opens it again. It occurs to you then, maybe too late, that he's a complete stranger and you've walked carelessly into his house. You look at him, trying to hide the flicker of doubt. It doesn't help that he doesn't smile. Actually, you're not sure if that would be any better.
You go ahead of him and climb the stairs behind the door. You enter the room, fully furnished and relatively cozy. You're impressed. It's not much but enough to make do.
“Built in the bathroom,” he explains as he does to another doorway, “only half bath, you'll have to use downstairs for a shower. Kitchenette,” he goes to the counter mounted into the wall, “microwave, hot plate sink, guess you could get an electric kettle.”
You nod as you look around. It's not bad; a bed, a chair and footstool, a table against the wall with two wooden stools. Of all the places you've viewed, it's decent and it's close enough to school
“I could… is that an offer?” You prompt.
“You got a job?” He asks.
“Sure, I work on campus between classes, and I have a grant,” you explain, “probably won't be here too much, just need somewhere to sleep.”
“Mm,” he rubs his chin, a hoarse bristle of brown and gray along his jaw. “Deposit?”
“Right, um, yeah, I got it. I could Venmo? Or paypal?”
“Cash,” he insists.
“Oh, uh, I don't have it on me,” you fumble with your phone, “but I can show you my balance.”
“Bring it tomorrow and the room is yours.”
“Really? Just like that?”
“Get the money in my hand and it's a deal,” he offers his hand, “you seem clean. You're a student. Better than the guy who tried to steal my silverware.”
“Uh, I won't do that,” you shake his hand and chuckle nervously.
“Mmm,” he growls and lets you go. “As long as you're quiet, I don't care what you do.”
“Oh, yeah,” you cover your mouth and lower your voice, “I'll do my best.”
He is unshakable. You're not the most charming character but you're harmless, most people realise that pretty quickly. You turn and continue to look around.
You go to the window and pull the cord of the blinds. Only one side raises and you yank it again. You give an oop as you angle it and try to let it down. It's only making it worse.
He huffs and crosses the room. You back up and he snatches the cord, rolling it up easily. You mumble an apology and look out, peering down at the driveway.
“It's really nice,” you say, “you said you put it the bathroom yourself?”
“Built the whole room,” he grumbles as he backs up, scratching the back of his, “something to do…”
“Right,” you smile, impressed by his handiwork. “Well, I can get the money. When should I come back?”
“Ten,” he says, “and don't be early. Don't need you interrupting my coffee.”
“Yes, sir,” you confirm, “ten…” you set an alarm on your phone and add it to your calendar, “I'll be here.”
You peek up at him as he watches you with narrowed eyes. His expression is enough to see you off. You're going to scram before he rescinds his offer.
🏘️
The next day, you head out to deliver the deposit. You take a little longer than you expected at the bank. You didn't consider that taking out a large amount would raise alarm bells.
With that sorted, you set off for your new home. This time, you park without issue, the Chevy truck unmoving in the driveway. You skip up the walk and take the steps two at a time. Your toe hits the top stair and you fly forward, colliding with the door.
You stand straight and laugh at yourself, reaching to knock on the door.
“Don't,” a disembodied voice warns.
You frown and look around. Your eyes catch the almost indiscernible lens above the doorbell. Oh, fancy.
The door swings open and Joel greets you over a gray blue mug. You stare at him awkwardly and teeter on your feet. Oh, yeah. You are here for a reason.
“Got it all here,” you proclaim as you loosen the drawstring on your purse, “counted it twice.”
He accepts it as he drinks from his mug, slurping down the last of the dregs. He clears his throat as he lowers the cup, “mm, great.”
“So, uh, not to be pushy,” you let your bag hang from your elbow, “when would I be able to… move in?”
His brown eyes bore into your very soul, “well… I guess whenever you need…”
“Great, because um, to be honest, it's really expensive to live on campus and my roommates are… messy,” you hesitate as you realise you're rambling, “not that that matters to you.”
“Just think of me like your landlord,” he grits, “don't bother me unless it's an emergency.”
“Got it,” you nod, “sorry, I'm excited. Oh, and I was wondering, am I allowed outside? Well, I don't mean, like, okay, is there a backyard?”
He nods stiffly.
“Am I… can I uh, use it?”
He stares then shrugs, “I guess. Two rules, stay out of my room and stay out of the garage. You got your room, you'll have access to the common space within limits.”
“Uh huh, makes sense,” you hold out the envelope and he takes it. “Well, thanks, I really appreciate it. You know, it must be a good investment, a little apartment…” you clamp your lips and cringe, “okay, sorry, I'm going.”
He doesn't respond. As you turn, the door snaps shut and you nearly trip again. It'll be a bit tense but it's better than scraping the bottom of the barrel to pay rent and dealing with Kaya's late night antics.
🏘️
You email Joel shortly after your last encounter. Restless, you're eager to be out of your overpriced and overcrowded dorm. You have most of your things ready to go. A single knapsack and a long duffle.
He agrees to the day before the first. You're not the sort to complain. It's better than the alternative. Short of the grumpy overseer, you really found the perfect place.
When you arrive, Joel's truck isn't there. You try ringing the bell but don't get an answer. You didn't expect any different. You sit on the top step and wait, admiring the facade of the neighbouring houses and the autumnal russets littered across their yards.
You’re not early. Not that early. You thought he’d be around or maybe give you some direction on how to get inside. Technically, this is your home too now. You signed the electronic lease.
When he drives up, you stand, swaying as you try not to seem too jumpy. He sits in his truck, taking his time as he lingers inside. When he gets out, he is in no hurry. You smile as he approaches and chew your lower lip.
His graying hair looks fluffy and soft despite his demeanour. He wears a tee shirt under a canvas shirt.
“Hi, er, Joel, sir,” you greet, “I… think I got the right day.”
“Was getting a key cut,” he slips his hand into his back pocket, “the keypad can be finicky. This one’s for the back. Just in case.”
“Thanks,” you chirp as you accept the key, “that’s awesome.”
His dark eyes challenge your enthusiasm as they flick up.
“Sure,” he agrees flatly.
“I’ll get my bags,” you announce as you back up, giving him room to step past you.
He rumbles but doesn’t give a real response. You hop off the step, landing clumsily, and follow the path down to the sidewalk. You pop your trunk and pull out your duffle and knapsack. As you go to shut the trunk, you feel a tug on the handle of the duffle bag and you hold back a yipe as a rough hand brushes the side of yours.
Joel doesn’t say a word as you let him take the bag. He turns and stalks back up the lawn. You can’t tell if he’s being helpful or he just wants to lock you away so you're out of his way. You hurry after him, keys jingling loudly.
Your foot hits the step and you nearly stumble again. You catch yourself with a stomp on the next step and he pauses at the front door to glance back at you. You offer another meek smile. He opens the door, waiting on you as you steady yourself.
“Sorry.”
“Slow down, you’re gonna hurt yourself.”
You give a nervous chuckle. He’s not laughing. You gulp and hook your knapsack on your shoulder before you continue inside. He might not be the nicest but at least you can be assured he can fix anything you break. Not that you’re intending on that… hopefully.
#joel miller#dark joel miller#dark!joel miller#joel miller x reader#too close for comfort#fic#dark fic#dark!fic#the last of us#au#series
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And they were neighbours! Chapter 2
Okay you beautiful people, I'm back. As always, reblogs and comments are dearly appreciated. Love you all
DO NOT UPLOAD MY WORK TO ANY AI ENGINES, IF YOU DO SO I WILL FIND YOU AND GIVE YOU HELL
Dr Michael Robinavitch x f! plus size reader
gif by @skulandcrossbones
Word count: 1,5k
Chapter 1
Masterlist
MDNI, 18+ BLOG AND WORK
TAGS: fluff, male masturbation, dirty thoughts, robby being self depricating, robby's pov, robby sees a therapist!!!!
Working at The Pitt was always…eventful, but today had been a pretty good day all in all for Robby; even after seeing three people with weird phallus-like objects up their ass that they couldn’t get out on their own, he was quite happy. So yeah, maybe he had a little strut in his step on his walk back home, no patient died on his shift and he didn’t get any unwanted bodily fluids on his scrubs, it was a good day. Maybe the day could get even better if he happened to see the cute young plump thing that lived on the apartment next to his, despite the fact that each time he saw her and felt the slightest sliver of desire, he couldn’t help but cringe at himself for being the dirtiest old man known to mankind. Fuck, there was the guilt again. The new shrink that Jack suggested had told him that growing up in a religious environment may have altered his perception of what was worth feeling guilty for; but he knew that if he told him how hot and bothered he got for a 28 year old woman that he shared some kind of friendship with, his therapist would worry in some kind of way. Fuck, so much for a good day.
Robby dragged his hand across his face and tried to shake himself out of the never ending spiral of shame and guilt, took a deep breath and opened the door to the reception of his apartment building while taking out his wireless earbuds and putting them inside the case, which he had learned to do the hard way, after losing way too many new pairs. He looked up and there you were, in all your celestial glory. You were wearing that fucking mini skirt, the one that made him want to bend you over the nearest surface and let caution be damned for once. God he wanted, no, he needed to show you what it felt like to be worshipped and taken care of by a real man; he had heard your fake pitiful moans one too many times and knew that those boys you were bringing home weren’t able to give you the pleasure you needed. Dear God, he really needed to get it together before he reached your presence near the elevator. He smiled through the never ending shame he felt for desiring you and got inside the lift.
“Hi kid, you going up?” He cringed to himself, why did he fucking call you kid when he wanted nothing more than to f-
“Hi” You answered with one of those bashful beautiful smiles “Yup, and you?” That made him smile “Oh god”
He chuckled and pressed the button. He couldn’t help but look at you, he blushed slightly when he noticed that you caught him staring and just gestured for you to exit first when the elevator arrived at your floor. He really needed to get you out of his system, maybe he should go on that blind date that Heather tried to set up for him.
“Um, I was wondering if you ever wanted to grab a cup of coffee?” He was sure that his shock was evident in his face, you surely couldn’t be talking to him. “Maybe at the new coffee shop down the street?” Oh, you were talking to him. He wanted to say yes so badly but he couldn’t weigh a beautiful young thing like you down “They make great coo-”
“Look, sweetheart, I am very flattered but you shouldn’t waste your time on an old man like me” He was sure this was the right path, and that once he made you see that you were able to achieve so much more than just dating an old grandpa like him, you would be thankful “Why don’t you ask John from 3 B? He’s about your age” He thought he was being chivalrous and polite, he even provided you with a second option so you wouldn’t feel like he was rejecting you. Clearly he thought wrong, because as soon as the words left his mouth he saw your eyes darken with anger.
“Michael, I am a grown woman, I can decide who I wanna waste my time on by myself” Fuck, that shouldn’t make him as aroused as it did “Is it because I’m fat? Because if it is then I am kind of disappointed in you, in fact, I expected more from a man as kind as your-” he had royally fucked this up, how could he make you believe for even a second that he wouldn’t or, worse, couldn’t be attracted to you because of your size? Your plush thighs and voluptuous body ignited a fire inside his body each and every time he looked at you, in fact he remembered the time he almost passed out from how fucking fast he got hard when he saw you walking out in a low cut tight dress. Yeah, maybe he should be thinking about puppies and his grandma right now and not how crazy your body made him. He sighed and placed his hand on your arm, he tried to look at you with as much softness as he could convey.
“Sweetheart, you are a very beautiful woman and you are right, you are grown and can decide with whom you want to spend your time…” He ruffled his hair nervously “But I am much older than you, I could be your father”
“But you aren’t” Why did saying that seem to make you clench your thighs? He thought that comparing himself to a father figure would deter you.
He let out a dry chuckle and tried a different route, “Kid, I have a lot of baggage, I sleep like shit, I’m married to the job and… I don’t think I can give you the softness you deserve”
“But-”
“End of discussion” he said as sternly as he could, trying to use what Dana called his “angry dad” voice
“You know, Michael, you deserve softness too” oh god, he was definitely talking about this in therapy, how could you do that so easily? Shake him to his very core without even trying “Have a good night” you smiled coyly and entered your apartment.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! What was that thing his therapist said? Something about how he spiralled when everything wasn’t in his control, that fucking bastard was right. He sighed and opened the door to his apartment as quickly as he could, trying and failing to ignore how his shaft was growing harder by the minute.
“Get it together, Robinavitch” he murmured, yet he knew that this was a lost battle. He was a weak man when it came to you. You had that smile that could melt anyone who was on the receiving end of it, and he was pretty sure that if he bottled up your laugh he could inject it via IV to his most critical patients and save them. Not only that but you even had the audacity to be kind to him, how fucking dare you? You took one look at him and his hardened mean dog exterior and decided that even he was deserving of your kindness, like the one time you baked him the most delicious cookies he had ever tasted or how you sang to the plants that he had in his balcony when you thought he wasn’t home, saying something about how they needed to be fed love as well. There was also that one time when you shyly gifted him a pristine medical journal, excusing yourself by telling him that it was your brother’s and that he had way too many as it was. He was pretty sure he was fully erect now, and that he couldn’t do anything to help his erection go down. So he did the next best thing: he thought about you. About you and how you smelled of flowers, fuck, he also knew for a fact that if he touched you he would melt into the softness of your skin, how were you so soft? He thought about your neck and how it stretched when you laughed particularly hard about something, the way in which your thighs seemed to get even bigger when you sat and the shame that it brought you while, unbeknownst to you, he felt fire trailing up his spine each damn time. He imagined the roundness of your breasts and the sweetness of your pussy, would you like him to eat you out? Had any of the idiots you brought home even bothered to show you a good time? Fuck, Robby couldn’t help the groan he let out at the thought of tasting you. He took himself out and started stroking himself right next to his door, that was how desperate you made him. He spat in his hand to try and pretend it was your wetness, how wet would you get? Were you sensitive and responsive? It’s okay if you weren’t, he would take his sweet time to draw those little sounds out of you.
“Fuck me” he groaned at the same time he imagined you beneath him, with your legs around his waist while he pounded deep into you, he’d fill you up if you asked him nicely and maybe, if he was lucky enough, you would beg him not to pull himself out even after he came. “Oh my god” yeah, that did it, he came over his freshly washed scrubs with a pained moan. Robby rested his head on his door and felt the shame start to bloom inside him. He was such a dirty old man, fantasizing about a young sweet thing such as yourself. He went inside his bathroom and got inside the shower, hoping that he could scrub out his desire for you with water and soap. He went through the motions as guilt ate him inside out and after he turned off the water and dried himself off with a towel, he reached for his cell phone and texted Collins
Heather, this is Robby. I think I will take you up on that blind date offer
The reply came almost instantly
I know it’s you, weirdo, I have your contact saved
But it makes me very happy that you finally got your head out of your ass, you’ll love Susie, she’s the sweetest
Three dots appeared on his screen, then disappeared and came back again
She’s also smoking hot
Like 5’10 and 50% toned pilates legs
He let out a dry chuckle and typed his response
Okay, ED Cupid, when do I get to meet her?
Collins answered way too quickly for his liking
What about tonight? You have tomorrow free
He ran a hand through his face and sighed, he would prefer to never go on that date but he needed to do the right, age appropriate choice
Sounds good, send me the restaurant address
He was making the right choice, or that’s what he tried to tell himself.
Taglist: @charmedkim @ryankaylamartin96 @art-by-jas @livelaughlexa @yeyinde
#the pitt fanfiction#michael robinavitch x reader#the pitt#michael robinavitch#plus size reader#michael robinavitch x female reader#michael robinavitch x f! reader
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Hi can I please please get a social media au with a f1 or foot baller please? They are already in a relationship and it just them being cute! Thank you!
hiiii thank you for my first request. i love this concept and I'm probably going to make multiple and maybe make it in to series if you want. i hope you like what I've done. i put quite a bit of effort in to this! enjoy!
JESS DAY GIRL - MAX VERSTAPPEN X READER social media au
SUMMARY: Max and his girl summer recap on Instagram.
warnings: none other than fluff.
request: yes/no
liked by y/nday, daniel.jpg and 692,174 others,
maxverstappen1: summer brake over on are way back to Zandvoort 🙌
tagged: @y/nday
comments:
user1: i cant with them they are so cute!😭
user2: ikr I'm going to faint! y/nday: please don't do that! user2: OMG ICON REPLIDE !!!!!!!
y/nday: we are back baby💞💗
user3: this is just a y/n appreciation page at this point.
user4: he's only in 3 photos😭😭😭
user5: mooooosssseeee (the dog)
carlossainz55: guys i think he likes her.
alex_albon: I couldn't tell. daniel3.jpg: just a little crush 🤏
liked by maxvastappen1 and 324,987others,
y/nday: I hate it here, so I will go to Secret Gardens in my mind.
tagged: maxvastappen1,lilymhe
comments:
maxvastappen1: 💗💖💌
lilymhe: it was a perfect summer thank you for letting us join you!💖
y/nday: it was are pleasure! ily
alex_albon: were are my photo credits🤷
y/nday:🤷♀️
user6: why are her photos edited like that its so cringe.😭🤢
maxvastappen1:🔫 alex_albon:🔫 daniel3.jpg:🔫 carlossainz55:🔫 landonorris:🔫 logansargeant:🔫 maxfewtrell:💥🔫
user7: why is maxfewtrell here?
user5: she net max v thro Lando and max cuz they karted together. user7: thank you!!!
user8:im just here for her dog honestly
liked by maxverstappin1 and 1,269,424 others,
y/nday: Wearing tights for the first time in months and when the mornings are all chilly and you can see your breath and draw little pictures on foggy windows.
tagged:maxvastappen1
comments:
user9: Mother is feeding us, thank you mother - we all say in unison
y/nday: ur welcome child 👐 maxvastappen1: am i dad now? user9: you were always dad let's be honest.
user10: I'm literally in love with you wtf
user11: icon 🙏🙏🙏🙏
taylorswift: i love you're posts 🫶
y/nday: 😭🤮😮 maxvastappen1: thanks she is now face down on the floor sobbing. taylorswift: my bad🤷♀️ y/nday: tswizzle!!!!
user12: tswizzle😭😭
maxfewtrell: Val tonight? y/nday: hopping on now! maxvastappen1: stop stealing my girlfriend! user13: lmao the two max's
user14: I lover her and max f!
user15: not the max pic
y/nday: very cutesy. alexandrasaintmleux: very demure.
ty for reading
#f1#f1 driver x reader#f1 x reader#lando norris#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen#max fewtrell#daniel ricciardo#carlos sainz#alex albon#x reader#social media#summer#autumn#aesthetic
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Word Count: 1,751
Pairing: best friend!Noah X Reader
Content Warnings: house party, vague mentions of drinking, Noah is bad at feelings, swearing, angst
Tags: @collisionofyourkissmakesitsohard @lacy1986 @collidewiththesav @kenjipepsi1 @follow-me-down-to-wonderland @alwaysfightforwhoyouare @chey-h @tosoundlessdarkistare @thisbicc @fadingangelwisp
Thank you @alwaysfightforwhoyouare for the inspiration I live you so much <3
I knew it was wrong, ogling Noah like I was, but I couldn’t help it.
He had come down from his bedroom in black slacks and his signature black tank top, looking sleek, handsome and downright sexy.
I tried to make my brain shut up.
Noah was my best friend and I should not be thinking about him like this.
Besides, I knew what he had to offer since we hooked up following an extremely drunken night out after a show about a year ago.
We had awoken in the same bed, naked and tangled up together.
Noah had brushed it off as nothing important, which had hurt me, and we were definitely not as close as we once were, but he was still my best friend.
The sofa where I was sat dipped, making me take my focus off of the heavily tattooed man in the kitchen and instead put it onto a guy in a green bomber jacket and a black beanie.
I had seen him before at a few other parties and social gatherings, but I wasn’t too sure who he actually was.
From what I could remember Matt telling me, he was one of the sound engineers for Spiritbox, but I couldn’t be sure.
“Hey gorgeous.” He began in a slightly nasally voice. I hated it when guys I didn’t know called me pet names.
“Hi.” I replied, slightly awkwardly.
“I’m Jonah.” He stuck his hand out towards me. I shook it tentatively. “And who might you be, gorgeous?”
“Y/N.” I replied simply.
“A gorgeous name for a gorgeous girl.” Jonah said gorgeous too much. I didn’t like it. “So, Y/N, are you single?” He asked.
I took a big gulp of my drink before nodding yes.
He grinned. I liked that even less.
“How about we get out of here? Have some fun? You know, just the two of us?” I cringed.
I was about to decline when two large hands wrapped around my waist, picking me up and placing me onto a firm lap.
The scent of Dior Sauvage filled my nostrils. Noah.
“You having fun baby?” He spoke quietly into my ear, just loud enough for Jonah to hear.
He squeezed my hip, encouraging me to reply to him.
“Yeah baby I am.” I replied with a giggle. This whole situation felt ridiculous and slightly stupid.
“Good.” Noah said, making direct eye contact with Jonah, making him scurry away.
I burst out laughing, finally able to acknowledge the hilarity of the situation.
Noah didn’t.
“What’s up babe? Not having fun?” I asked in my best Noah impression that I could muster.
He remined blank faced.
“Are you alright?” I asked, instantly worried about my best friend. He never normally acted like this.
Noah simply nodded at me, not saying anything right away. “Yeah, just in my head I guess.”
“Do you want to get out of here? We can go talk somewhere?” I offered, trying to reach out to my best friend.
He shook his head.
I gave his bicep a squeeze, letting him know that was there for him if and when he needed me. Noah simply smiled up at me.
We sat like that for what felt like eternity, when Jolly came over to talk to us for a short while.
It was nice being this close to Noah again after being ever so slightly distant from eachother.
Sitting on Noah’s lap felt right in that moment, like it was where I was supposed to be. Jolly clearly didn’t care, since he hadn’t mentioned Noah and I’s sudden closeness. It wasn’t like it was a surprise to the rest of the guys as Noah and I often found ourselves entwined together on the couch during movie night, or game night, or literally any hangout ever.
I missed that closeness with him.
Pulling Noah closer to me, I wrapped my arms around his neck and rested my head lazily on his shoulder as we spoke.
“I think I’m going to head to bed now.” Noah announced when Jolly was speaking to us.
I shared a confused look with the Swede as this was relatively out of character for Noah. He never liked to go to bed when a party was still going.
“Oh okay. Do you want me to come up with you?” I asked, simply because I wanted to make sure he was okay.
“No, you stay here. Enjoy the party.” He said, lifting me off of his lap and walking off without so much as a goodnight.
“Something is going on with him.” Jolly said as soon as Noah was out of earshot.
“You think?” I asked.
“Since that Jonah dude came over to you, he’s been agitated.” Jolly sighed, leaning back in his chair.
“Really? I wonder why?” I replied, asking the questions more so to myself than to Jolly.
The Swede laughed loudly, causing multiple other partygoers to turn and look at us. “You wonder why? It’s obvious Y/N.”
“I don’t get it.” I said with a look of pure confusion etched across my features.
“How about you go upstairs and ask him yourself.” Jolly said with a smirk, gesturing to the stairs that we had just watched Noah ascend earlier.
I hesitated for a moment, before following Noah up the stairs. Jolly still sat on the chair, giggling to himself as if he had just set up the perfect prank and was just waiting for it to fall into place.
The upstairs hallway was quiet in comparison to the party downstairs, since the partygoers weren’t allowed to venture to the guys’ bedrooms.
Soft purple light peeked through underneath Noah’s door indicating that he had switched on the LED strip lights I had bought him when we moved house.
I never usually bothered knocking on Noah’s door, but on this occasion, I felt that I should. Something was off between us, and I was terrified of overstepping.
Noah’s feet shuffled towards the door. It swung open, revealing Noah standing there in only the black slacks he had been wearing at the party.
“Sorry.” I blurted.
“It’s okay.” He replied softly.
There was a beat of mildly awkward silence before he gestured for me to come in.
His room always looked the same. His bed was neatly made and his desk was organised perfectly. There were no rogue socks littering the floor, like there was in my own room. There were no dirty cups or mugs like there was in Jolly’s room. There were no stacks of books in the corners like there was in Jesse’s room. Noah’s room was always pristine.
“So, what’s up?” Noah asked, breaking the somewhat uncomfortable silence that had descended between the two of us.
I turned my body to face my shirtless nest friend. It took all I had not to just stand there and stare at him. It was so tempting.
“I just wanted to ask if you were okay? You didn’t seem like yourself down there.” I asked softly.
His soft smile twitched as he seemed to flinch at my question.
“I’m fine, why don’t you head back down and enjoy the party?” Noah said bluntly in reply.
“I was also wondering if you wanted to hang out for a bit? We haven’t hung out in ages just the two of us and the party is getting kinda boring downstairs.” I suggested with a laugh.
“Y/N,” Noah began with a sigh, “I just want to be alone right now.”
“So you aren’t okay?” I asked, confused.
“No, I never said that.” Noah said, beginning to get defensive.
“I’m just worried that’s all. I miss you.” I tried to diffuse the situation.
“Well, stop missing me.” Noah snarled at me.
I flinched. He had never spoken to me like that before, and it threw me off.
“What is your problem?” I said, taken aback by his tone.
“My problem?” Noah laughed sarcastically.
“Yes! Your problem. Why are you acting like a complete dick?” I shouted back at him.
“I don’t have a fucking problem, you do!” He yelled back.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” I snarled in reply. We never fought so it was weird hearing him yell, especially at me.
“You’re fucking doting on me all of the fucking time and it’s annoying.” He sneered at me with a sarcastic grin on his face.
“Did you ever think that I was doing that because I was worried about you, Noah?” I began angrily. “You haven’t been yourself recently and it’s freaking me out.”
“Well maybe I haven’t been myself recently because you’re pissing me off!” Noah shouted, going to open his bedroom door to see me out.
“Stop making me feel like I mean nothing to you.” I yelled, frustrated by his behaviour.
He paused and silence filled his bedroom.
“You don’t mean nothing to me, Y/N, you mean everything to me.” Noah said quietly. Too quietly.
“Then why have you been avoiding me?” I pushed. “You have barely been able to look at me since that night.”
Noah remained quiet, unable to meet my eyes.
“Did it mean nothing to you? Is that it?” I asked, angry at his silence.
“Of course not.” Noah whispered. “It meant everything.”
This time, the silence held confusion.
“Everything?” I asked.
“Yes, everything.” Noah replied, finally meeting my eyes and taking a step towards me.
I wasn’t sure what to reply with in that moment, so I just stared into his deep brown eyes as he stepped even closer to me, so close that I could feel the heat radiating off of his shirtless torso.
His large hand reached up and cupped the side of my face. I leaned into his touch slightly.
“You mean everything. That’s why I was hiding from you. I didn’t want to fuck up what we have, because it means everything to me.” Noah confessed.
“How would you fuck it up?” I asked.
Noah sighed before speaking.
“Because I am so hopelessly in love with you but you don’t feel the same. It would weird you out.” Noah explained in a whisper.
“Who says I’m not in love with you?” I asked.
“Because you’re not. You couldn’t b-“ Noah started.
I interrupted him by pulling him down to capture his lips in a kiss, shutting him up entirely.
We pulled away from the kiss, both slightly out of breath, before bursting into laughter.
“You and me?” I asked quietly.
“Always.” Noah whispered back, pulling me into another kiss.
#bad omens#noah sebastian#noah sebastian fic#fanfic#noah sebastian bad omens#noah bad omens#noah sebastian x reader#best friend noah#nowah
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Celestial
Summary: Snapshots of your relationship with Kamala Khan. This story takes place in the Family AU.
Warning: fluff, small amount of angst, mention of panic attack, self harm, first kiss, shovel talks, Kamala is head over heals for the reader and the reader is trying their best, mention of past trauma
Note: Tagging @jusnough for the idea!
Word Count: 4.2K
It wasn’t the most ideal of timing. A lot was happening, especially with the trail you were preparing for. Your parents were stressed. You were stressed, which was 100% understandable, but Kamala wanted to plan something special and then maybe ask you to be her girlfriend. Baby steps. She couldn’t get ahead of herself. There was a plan. First, ask your parents permission to date you. Second, she needed to survive the shovel talk they no doubt had for her. Third, ask Tony for a favor. Finally, take you on a date and make it a great day. Easy. Simple. Kamala was going to throw up.
She found your parents in the kitchen. You had a checkup with Helen, so it was a perfect time to walk to them. Natasha saw her first while Wanda focused on the lunch she was making. “She should be done soon,” the Black Widow said to her. “She’s with Helen.”
“I know,” Kamala said. “I was wondering if I could speak with the both of you.” Natasha raised an eyebrow in question. Kamala believed she was fearless. She fought alongside the Avengers, looked danger in the eye, and did not back down. It was impressive for a high school student. Starring down your parents was a new level of fear she’d never experienced. “I want to take Y/n on a date, and I know she has a lot going on, but I want to do something nice for her,” the couple stayed quiet. “She means a lot to me,” Kamala decided to continue. “I don’t know everything she has been through, but I know I’d never hurt her like that. I mean, I may hurt her. But not intentionally,” she added on quickly. “I am sometimes an idiot,” Wanda chuckled. “I think I should shut up.”
“Probably for the best kid,” Natasha smirked. Kamala cringed and scratched the back of her head. The Black Widow leaned on the counter and narrowed her eyes at Kamala. “You are about our daughter,” Kamala nodded. “Being with her won’t be easy.”
“She’s been through a lot,” Kamala turned to look at Wanda. Some days may be good, others may be bad.” Again, she nodded her head. Kamala knew healing wasn’t linear, but she was ready to catch you when you needed her. “She may lash out, shut you out, or blame you for feelings she can’t place.”
“Are you committed to that?” Natasha asked.
“Yes,” Kamala answered without hesitation. It was not going to be easy, and she knew that. Even her friends told her to stay away, and she tried. But there was something about you that kept drawing her in: your shy smile, the soft look in your eyes when you hung out with your brothers, and your laugh. Your laugh was Kamala’s favorite. She loved hearing it.
“Okay,” Natasha said. But if you hurt her, not even Danvers will save you.” Kamala gulped and watched the couple focus back on making lunch.
“Right, got it. Aye, aye, captain,” Kamala gave them a salute, spun around, and headed towards Tony’s lab. Phase 1 and 2 was a success onto Phase 3.
Delete Created with Sketch.
Natasha sighed once Kamala was out of earshot. “What is it?” Wanda asked, nudging the Black Widow with her hip. Is it hard to believe our daughter is dating?”
“No,” she washed her hands and dried them. “Well, yes, but that means Hill won the bet.” The witch laughed and shook her head. She was not part of the bet between the older team members on how soon Kamala would ask you out. Natasha had her bets on after the trial, but the heart wants what the heart wants. Wanda knew how good Kamala was for you, but the mother bear inside her worried. You’ve gone through so much. She wanted to protect your heart as much as she could.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
“Calm down,” Kate said. That was the opposite effect the archer was going for. It heightened your anxiety as you passed back and forth in her room at the Avenger tower.
“I don’t know what to do,” you said. “I’ve never been on a date before. Kamala approached you and asked if you wanted to hang out with her. You were to be ready at noon, and Happy would drive you to this secret location. She gave you no clue on where you were going. You were oblivious to this being a date until you turned around and saw the smirks on Tommy and Billy’s faces.
The twins teased you until you were a stuttering mess, which got them grounded. This caused you to panic, which led you here with Kate.
“Bug, I need you to breathe,” Kate said as if it was the simplest thing, but you couldn’t. You’ve gone on one ‘date’ since the Blip, and that was with Jason. That needed horribly. Everyone took something from you; they took and took until you were a husk of your former self. “It’s only Kamala.” It was a simple statement that was supposed to lessen your anxiety, but it made it worse. “Sit down,” you sat next to her, but your leg continued to bounce.
“Do you trust her?” You nodded. She’s done nothing to break your trust. “Does she make you smile? Laugh? Do you feel at ease when you are around her?” Again, you nodded. “Do you like her?”
“Yes,” you admitted.
“Then enjoy your day with her. You guys are just hanging out,” you nodded and stood up. Once again, you started to pace. At this point, you would pace a hole in the floor.
“Right,” you bite your thumb. “What do I wear?” You walked over to the archer’s closet. You had a limited wardrobe here, but you knew you could wear something that Kate or Yelena owned.
“Keep it casual. Maybe jeans and a cute top. Oh! Bring that sweater Wanda gifted you. You might get cold.” Your brain slowly processed what she said. She knew where Kamala was taking you. You spun around to face the archer. Kate was looking at everything in her room beside you.
“Where is she taking me?”
“I’ve sworn to secrecy and threatened by bodily harm if I told you.”
“Kate!” You whined and flopped on the bed next to her. She laughed at your dramatics and pushed you on your back.
“You are so cute when you throw a tantrum,” she pointed at your cheek. Your pout deepened. “Trust, bug. Trust that she knows you well enough to not push you out of your comfort zone.” You nodded. In reality, you wanted the date to go well. With the upcoming trial, you wanted to have a good day.
“I’m thinking about the blue jeans and the light pink top. The sweater will go nice with both.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
The ride to the mysterious location was fun. You thought it would be awkward with Happy, but Kamala filled the silence with stories. When the car stopped, Kamala was quick to get out first. She opened your door, offered you her hand, and you took it. You stood at the corner of Central Park West and West 76th Street. Kamala spoke with Happy before he drove away. “Ready?” She asked you. You nodded and followed her to the American Museum of National History. You were surprised by the lack of people waiting to get in. A new exhibit opened about the advancement in modern medicine. You’ve been dying to go, but the increase in popularity caused considerable crowds to form at the museum.
Kamala gave you a reassuring smile and led you up the steps of the museum. Her hand is still holding tight onto yours. It was quiet when she opened the door, and no one was in the lobby. “Kamala Khan?” A worker walked over. It would help if you had listened to try to understand what was happening, but you were fascinated by how quiet it was. You could hear the slight hum of the air conditioning. There was no yelling of excited children or the echo of footsteps moving from one exhibit to the next. It was quiet, and you enjoyed it. A weight was lifted off your chest. The tingly feeling you sometimes felt when you were in crowds was gone.
Kamala squeezed your hand, and you looked at the girl. A teasing smile was on her face. “Were you talking to me?”
“I was but you seemed a little distracted,” you felt your body heat up and you mumbled a quiet, ‘Sorry.’ But Kamala shook her head. “Don’t be. Come on. The exhibit you want to see is over here.” You let the girl guide you.
“Kamala,” you said and forced her to stop. You could make a sign explaining the new pop-up. “What is going on? How are we the only people here?” Kamala looked down at the floor, embarrassed.
“I rented out the museum for us. We are going to walk through each exhibit for as long as you want, and then a few of the workers are going to set up food for us. Wanda made your favorite,” she explained. You were a little lost for words. They seemed stuck in the back of your throat. However, Kamala took your silence as rejection. “If you want to do something else, we can.”
“No!” You said suddenly. “Sorry,” you cringed at the sound echoing on the museum walls. “Why did you do this?” Kamala shrugged.
“You mentioned you wanted to see this exhibit but were worried about the crowds,” you mentioned it once. You made an offhand comment while you and Kamala were eating lunch at the tower. She finished training, but you weren’t sure if she was listening. She was. “I asked Tony for a favor, and he pulled some strings, so here we are.”
“I uh-,” you cleared your throat, desperately trying to keep your tears from escaping your eyes. “Thank you.” A smile formed on Kamala’s face, and you allowed yourself to feel butterflies form in your stomach.
“You’re welcome. Come on, let’s see why this exhibit is so cool and popular.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Kamala was not a fan of museums. You could tell she was trying hard to take in the information you were telling her. For the most part, she was doing well, and she wasn’t rushing you. She let you take your time - reading each plague and adding your commentary. You decided to cut her some slack when her stomach growled for food. How embarrassed she got was cute and led to where the food was. A table was set up in the Invisible Worlds display. The colors weren’t as bright and intense, but it was a unique experience to be here with no one else.
“Wanda helped me make paprikash,” Kamala said, pulling back your chair for you and taking her own when you sat down. “So if it’s horrible, blame her.” You chuckled and opened the food container. It was still warm and smelt great.
“Thank you for today,” you smiled. “I’ve been having a great time.” She took a few sips of her water and cleared her throat.
“I know you have a lot going on,” she offered you her hand, and you took it. “But I wanted to give you one good day and ask if you want to be my girlfriend,” you couldn’t stop the surprise noise that escaped your lips.
“Dating me won’t be easy,” you told her. “I come with a lot of baggage.”
“It’s a good thing I’m so strong,” she flexed her free arm. You rolled your eyes but couldn’t help the smile on her face. “Seriously though, I want to be there for you and help carry some of that baggage.”
You weren’t sure how to give your baggage to someone. You had a track record of picking ones that hurt you. But Kamala was different. Kate made you admit how easy it was to be around her. She made you smile and laugh. You felt safe. “I may fuck this up,” Kamala smiled.
“Are you saying us?” You nodded.
“I am saying yes,” you smiled. “I am saying yes to being your girlfriend.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Kamala was multitasking, which wasn’t her strongest suit. She was trying to make you and her a plate of food while keeping an eye on you. She knew you would be quiet after the trial, but she was still worried. You seemed lost in thought while you sat near the fire pit. It wasn’t lit, but you were watching it as if the flames were there. “You are holding up the line,” Yelena said. Kamala jumped.
“Sorry, I was-”
“It is fine,” Yelena said, following her gaze to you. It was Billy’s turn to try to pull you out of whatever your mind was creating. “You are worried, I understand,” Yelena said, taking the plate meant for you and helping Kamala add to it.
“I’ve been waiting for you to come up to me,” Kamala saw the smirk on Yelena’s face. “Am I going to survive this shovel talk?”
“I am not going to threaten bodily harm, or my niece would never forgive me,” Kamala was thankful that the Romanoff-Maximoff family accepted you into their home. “This has been the happiest I’ve seen her in a long time; Kamala watched the Blonde put butter on a piece of corn for you. “Her heart has been broken by people who were supposed to protect it,” she sighed and looked at you. The Bartons were now with you. “I am surprised she was strong enough to offer it to someone else. You must be special,” Yelena handed the now full plate back to her. “Don’t misplace that trust.”
“I won’t,” Kamala said before Yelena could walk away. I may mess up, but I would never be like the others.” The Blonde looked over her shoulder, scanning Kamala up and down.
“I know,” the Black Widow smirked. “Just keep it that way, or there will be consequences.”
“I thought you said no to bodily harm,” Kamala called out after her. She heard Yelena laugh.
“I am a Black Widow,” she said. “I can do more than hurt you physically.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Maybe Kamala was overthinking it. Your phone could have died, you could have been sick, or something bad happened, and no one was telling her. It was strange that you missed a scheduled date and weren’t answering your phone. So it was a quick taxi ride from the tower to your house, and she was knocking on the front door. “Kamala,” Wanda answered the door. What are you doing here?”
“Is she here?” Kamala asked. “We were supposed to meet up, and she isn’t answering me, so I just need to make sure she’s okay and safe,” Wanda gave her a sad smile and stepped to the side. Kamala walked in and followed the witch into the kitchen.
“She’s in her room,” Wanda said, pouring her a glass of water and beginning to prepare a small board of snacks. “It’s not her intention to ignore you, but today was a bad day.”
“It’s been a bad day,” Kamala said slowly back and took a piece of cheese that Wanda offered. She remembered Wanda telling her that some days were bad. Wanda crossed her arms and leaned on top of the counter.
“With everything she’s been through, some days are better than others,” the witch sighed. “She had therapy this morning, so maybe that caused it, or it could have been a nightmare or none of the above. We may never know.”
“Can I-can I go see her?” Kamala asked. Wanda smiled.
“Of course. Bring her this,” she pointed to the board. “She hadn’t eaten, but don’t be upset if she didn’t want to see you.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
The world seemed to be covered in a foggy haze. Everything seemed to move slower. Your body felt heavy, and it took so much energy to go to the bathroom. You barely heard the knock on your door. “Hey, sweetheart,” it was Kamala. “Can I come in?” You rolled to your side to face the door. You hated that she was going to see you like this. You missed her and you hated yourself that you missed your date.
“Yeah,” you whispered. The door opened, and Kamala came in holding a plate of snacks and glass filled with juice.
“Hi,” she smiled and closed the door. Wanda made you a little snack platter because she said you hadn’t eaten.” Kamala placed the food on the side table. Something inside you snapped. You felt it all day, and you tried to keep it buried inside. Seeing Kamala being so nice after you ignored her all day broke it. Everything came bubbling over. A broken sob escaped your lips. “Hey, hey, why are you crying?”
“I don’t know,” you cried. “I’m so sorry.”
“It’s okay. Can I hug you? Do you need a hug?” You sat up in bed and cried harder.
“I don’t know,” you repeated. You wanted to fall into her arms and be safe, but the idea of her touching you sent shivers down your spine. Why was everything so complicated? Why were you so broken? You began to scratch at your wrists.
“I need you to stop doing that,” you heard Kamala say, but you couldn’t stop. You needed to feel anything besides this suffocating weight. Suddenly, Kamala’s hands grabbed yours, and you fought against her. “I know, I know,” Kamala cooed, pulling you against her chest. Her arms held you tightly down. “It’s okay. You’re safe. You’re safe.” Soft humming filled your ears. Your body slumped against hers, and you cried on her chest.
When your sobs quieted down, you pulled away from her. Your head was pounding, and you felt gross. “Hi, khobsurat (beautiful),” you rolled your eyes.
“I doubt I look beautiful,” Kamala shook her head.
“You will always be beautiful to me,” she could make you flustered. “Do you wanna talk about anything?” She kept her hands on her lap but was itching to hold you. Her fingers were twitching. Sighing, you held out your hand for her to take.
“I didn’t want you to see me like this,” you admitted.
“Like what?” she questioned. It was hard to describe this state you sometimes found yourself in. Sometimes, it felt like you were in a pile of quicksand, and no matter how hard you fought, you kept sinking. “This is a bad day for you. That’s what your mother called it.” You nodded.
“They don’t come often, but when they do, they can be depleting,” you explained. “I wanted to hang out with you today but couldn’t leave my bed. So I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize,” she said. “I was worried that you went radio silent, so a text would be nice,” you nodded. You could do that even though you had no idea where your phone was. “But I want to be there when it gets bad. I want to see the good, the bad, and the ugly.”
“Even when I miss dates and can’t leave my room.”
“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. “We can just sit here and watch movies as long as I’m with you. I’m happy.” She kissed the back of your hand.
“Thank you,” you smiled. It was nice having someone so patient. If you are interested, there is a new movie I want to watch.” You moved against your headboard with your arms. Immediately, Kamala moved into your arms. She sat between your legs with her back against your front. “Thank you,” you said again. It was starting to not feel like enough. Hopefully, one day, you would find more than those two words.
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
Something changed. You weren’t sure when it happened. You were looking at Kamala’s lips and wondering what they would feel like on yours. She has kissed you on your cheek, the back of your hand, or the top of your head. You were okay with that, but you wanted to kiss her properly. Could you do that? The last time you felt someone’s lips on yours was Dmitri. “Is that math problem that difficult?” Natasha asked. You were doing homework in her office while she was working on a few mission reports. You chuckled and closed the textbook.
“Can I ask you something?” You asked, twirling the pencil in our hand. The Black Widow nodded and moved to sit on the couch next to you.
“Ask away,” she smiled. Was it an appropriate question to ask your mom? You weren’t sure, but the relationship with your mom wasn’t normal. You continued to twirl the pencil.
“Is it weird that I want to kiss Kamala?” You asked. “Do you think it’s too soon?” You added on. You wished you had captured the look on Natasha’s face - eyes wide and shocked. But she recovered quickly. A part of you wondered if she wanted Wanda to be here for this conversation. Natasha sighed.
“I can’t tell you if it’s too soon or not. That is for you to decide,” you groaned and let your head fall back. The Black Widow laughed and pulled you back into a sitting position. “When it comes to kissing and sex, we both have a complicated relationship with it.” You frowned. Slowly, it dawned on you what she meant.
“How did you learn how to trust someone with your body like that again?” You asked. Natasha grabbed your hand and placed them on the back of the couch.
“A lot of unhealthy coping mechanisms,” the Black Widow teased. You rolled your eyes, but your frown remained on your face. “I slept around hoping it would be different, but never until I started seeing Wanda.”
“How?”
“I finally felt safe with her. She made me feel seen. So,” she cringed slightly. “If you feel those things with Kamala, then maybe it’s the right time to open yourself up to that again,” Natasha pushed a strand of hair behind her ear. “Don’t force it, though, Firefly. You and her have all the time in the world.”
✦ . ⁺ . ✦ . ⁺ . ✦
You were trying to pay attention to the story Kamala was telling. You were lying on the tower’s roof - the night sky was blanketed with stars. It was your turn to plan a date, so you decided to picnic atop the tower. It was peaceful. It felt like you and her were the only people in the city. “Why do I feel like you aren’t listening?” Kamala teased.
“Sorry,” you whispered. “I got stuck in my head.” The girl frowned. “I’m okay,” you promised and sat up to reach for your phone. Opening up Spotify, you began to play music. “Do you want to dance with me?” You asked.
“Yeah, sure, I can dance,” you giggled at her nervous rambling. You both stood up; her arms went around your waist, and you put your arms around her neck. It wasn’t really dancing; it was more like swaying side to side to the music. “I had a good time,” she broke the silence.
“Good. So did I,” you glanced at her lips but looked away. Carefully, she spun you in a circle and brought you back into her arms.
“Do you want to talk about it?” You titled her head. “Where was your head when I was telling you an amazing story?” You chuckled.
“You,” you paused. “You make me feel like my troubled heart is a million miles away. You make me feel like I’m drunk on stars and dancing out into space,” you let out a shaky breath. “When I get lost, I know your arms will be reaching out towards me.” Gently, Kamala cupped your face and forced you to look up at her. “This may go wrong,” your voice shook as your nerves got the best of you. “But can I kiss you?”
“Yes,” Kamala sighed. Time seemed to slow down as you inched closer. You could feel the warmth of her breath, and you fought your mind to stay in the present. You tried to push away the darkness that threatened to overtake it.
“Khobsurat,” she whispered, her voice pushing away the darkness. Your heart pounded in your chest, and a soft flutter stirred in your stomach - a mix of nerves and wonder. Then it happened. Her lips touched yours, gentle and tentative. It was soft, warm, and sweet, sending a cascade of warmth down your spine.
For a second, you forgot to breathe. Everything else vanished - no more nerves, no more doubt. Kamala pulled away and rested her forehead against yours.
“Thank you,” you were surprised by that. “Thank you for trusting me with this.”
“You’ve earned my trust,” you whispered. “You’ve been so patient with me. I-” you couldn’t say it yet. The words felt trapped in your throat. But Kamala nodded.
“Can I kiss you again?”
“Yes,” you smiled. This time, her kiss was more aggressive. She felt more confident in her movements. Her touch was soft against your skin. Natasha was right. This felt different. It felt full of warmth. It felt like love.
#kamala khan x reader#kamala khan x you#kamala khan x y/n#wandanat x daughter#wandanat x daughter!reader
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HEYO Y'ALL!!!! I got bored and decided my last intro post was WAY too unorganised (even by my standards frfr 😔😔🙏) so i made a new one!!! hopefully this ones a bit better or else ima light somebody on fire 🥰🥰
anyways dms n asks r ALWAYS open and if ur new to my person/being/blog/existancewhatevs and wanna get to know me or smth then FEEL FREE TO SLIDE IN GIRLYPOPS!!! I'M ALWAYS BORED SOO 😭😭🙏 (might take like, a billion years to reply tho mbmb >:3)
and thus again, without any further ado, MY INTRO POST 😍
🎶 try to strike a chord but it's probably A MINOR 🎶 -> ✨️im under 18✨️ idm nsfw convos tho bcuz theyre funny :D
sooo tbh you can call me whatever you want? like ppl call me different things (eg senka calls me kam, bea calls me keke/kekere bcuz shes 🎶a meanie, a big meanie🎶 my irl bestie westie pookie poo calls me jeena CUZ HES A LIL BITCH) but MHM!!! CALL ME WHATEVER U WANNA <33 (as long as it dont feel masc bcuz my dumbass got issues w feeling masc for some RANDOM STUPID REASON 💀) (like im literally a cis girl why do i got problems w this....... but YAAAA 😭) (she/her btw!!! if that wasnt obvious!! ^^)
✨️i am cringe but i am free✨️
I SOMETIMES USE GENDERED TERMS LIKE GIRLY/BRO/DUDE/ETC BUT I DON'T MEAN IT GENDERED SO IF YOU FEEL IFFY THEN DONT HESITATE TO HMU N TELL ME TO FIX UP MY SHIT
btw im a tad bit of train wreck but if u enjoy the chaos then we'll get along js fine i think pooks 😋😋
anyways it came to my shitty little attention span one day when i was just being a silly lil girly that some of yall think im white when i say im british....... CHAT NOOO IM BORN N RAISED IN THIS TEA RIDDEN COUNTRY BUT ETHNICITY WISE IM BANGLADESHI!??!?! YALL IM LITERALLY A BROWNIE OMFDS 🤧
also a lot of this blog is a bunch of reblogs of shit im interested in BUT I DO HAVE OG STUFFFFFF, THEY'RE JUST IN THEIR OWN TAGS U GET ME??? anyways some of the tags!!!
karmaajr rambles -> for everything i post besides answers to asks :3
karmaajr answers ig :D -> answers to asks ^^
important thing for me to tag bcuz yes -> random thing i really wanna save (also im bad at tagging so sometimes thing has an "s" or tag has an "s" lmfao, ITS A RLLY USELESS TAG TO TRY SCROLL THRU ICL.... RLLY DRY AS WELL)
karmas mum mentions :3 -> i like to think this one explains itself yall 😘
daddy's unhinged -> anything about my sweet ol' pops (who totes cares abt me yall) 🥰
my sister and I -> anything my sister is involved in that i actually remember to tag LMFAO
NOT MY ASS MENTIONING PANIK -> me wanting to save things that r to do w my gf 🫶
BTW HIS @ IS @panikbutt0n AND SHE'S MY MAPLE SYRUP CHUGGING 4LIFER AND LITERALLY THE BEST THING SINCE RIPPED BREAD AND I LOVE HER SO SO SO MUCH SO ACC HIT HER UP PLZ 🙏🙏🙏🙏
btw yall, ur homegirl aint no gatekeeper so the group matching pfp thingy is from @tuturthecarvroom 's blog (n they very skibidi sbg art btw so i do reccomend frfr) and mY HEADER IS OFF GOOGLE SEARCH 😍😍
ALSO I AM CURRENTLY MATCHING WITH THE SILLIEST GROUP EVER FRFR, GONNA TRY @ THEM ALL BUT IT'S HARDDD (my memory is the shittiest thing since That One Time my friend shit his trousers on call w me 💪💪💪)
@lee1504 -> BRAINROTTED KING 🙏🙏
@d011zk1ll -> both kind af and somewhat unhinged??? like both "do a good deed to make somebody else's life easier ☺️" AND "im gonna eat a bicycle :p"
@sketchingwithlyn -> JUST THE CHILLEST GUY EVERRRR!!!!
@rot-decay-erosion -> gramps 🧓🏻 (also known as the desendant of our king garfield 😙✨️)
@afrogwhocantdraw -> RESIDENT BENLOR POOKIE
@low-senka -> the brokest senior citezen youve ever met 💔💔💔💔 (yall need to donate to my guy 🥺🥺🥺)
(also the thing below had me stuck looking at it for literally AGES so hehehehehhehehe GET TRAPPED IDIOT!!!!!! >:3!!!!!)
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(dots r fun)
anyways i have no clue what else to write!!! which is weird bcuz im a yapper frfr :D
ANYWAYS LOVE Y'ALL ✨️✨️✨️
WAIT
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.................... ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
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............................................................ ᘛ⁐̤ᕐᐷ
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THEY 👥 DONT🙅🏼♀️ LOVE 😘 YOU 🫵🏼 LIKE I 👀 LOVE 🥰 YOU 🫵🏼🫵🏼🫵🏼
#karmaajr rambles#important thing for me to tag bcuz yes#karmaajr answers ig :D#karmas mum mentions :3#my sister and i#daddy's unhinged#NOT MY ASS MENTIONING PANIK#anyways please tell me i did good on this yall 🙏🙏🙏🙏#yall i did good right-#PLSSS#CHAT 🙏🙏
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A Blessing
Pairing: Benedict Bridgerton x fem!reader, Modern AU
Summary: Turns out the father of your favourite pupil, could end up being your favourite adult

Warnings: none really… this is flirtation and fluff. Developing relationship.
Word count: 2.1k
Authors Note: This is a request fill for Anon (ask HERE) about a meet-cute between single dad Benedict and teacher reader. This is also dedicated to my lovely mutual @bridgertontess on the occasion of her birthday this weekend. Happy birthday my dear! Thank you for choosing the name of Benedict’s daughter in this fic. Many thanks to wonderful @colettebronte for giving this a read through, the title and for her generosity in creating the lovely artwork above. Enjoy! <3
You sigh as you fiddle with your nameplate, awaiting the start of Parents Evening. It’s always a night you dread - having to be polite to the parents of nightmare kids. There are a few pupils you simply adore, but somehow, those parents seem to linger less than those you struggle to find nice things to say about.
One of your favourites - yes, you know you’re not supposed to have them, but you do - is little Georgia Bridgerton. She is cute as a button with blue eyes and chestnut curls, but mostly, it’s her sweet temperament and intelligence you admire. You hope her parents turn up. You are intrigued to meet whoever created this little blessing, although you have only heard her talk of her Dad.
About an hour in, you have talked to six sets of parents of mostly middling pupils. You are just sneaking a look at your phone when someone flops into the chair opposite, and you hasten to drop it back in your bag.
When you look up, your lungs feel tight. Quite the most beautiful man has taken a seat, and you are temporarily dumbstruck as you glance at his name sticker. In the ‘hello my name is’ box, he has written Ben in large looping black letters. The ‘my child’s name is’ box has been left blank.
“I’m sorry, Ben,” you stutter, slightly distracted by his hazy eyes. “I don’t see your child’s name on your tag; who are you here for?” you ask.
He glances down at his navy shirt. “Ah shit, sorry.” Then he immediately winces. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to swear.”
“It’s fine,” you bat a hand. “The kids aren’t here tonight. You should hear me when they aren’t within earshot,” you jest, attempting to break the ice, even as you feel your face prickling hot at just the sight of him.
He laughs heartily, his face creasing up in quite the most handsome way, and you squeeze your legs together reflexively, hidden under the table. Good lord, he’s beautiful.
“I’m Georgia’s dad,” he explains as he stops laughing.
“Oh, my star pupil!” you gush, then have to stop. “Shit, I’m not supposed to say that,” you confess, eyes darting around the buzzing gymnasium to all the other parents and teachers, but no one seems to have heard.
“Or swear…” he adds for you, with a wink.
Oh fuck. You could be in trouble here.
You briefly dip your head, cheeks heated, until he starts talking again. “But it’s wonderful she’s doing so well. She talks about you a lot, to be honest. Always saying Mrs y/l/n is her favourite teacher,” he smiles.
“I am her only teacher,” you remind drolly, even as you can’t hide how pleased that makes you. “Should we wait for another parent before we dig in…?” you ask, gesturing to the empty chair to his left.
His face clouds slightly, and you worry you have made a faux pas. “Oh, she, uh, won’t be making it tonight,” he says quietly.
“Gosh, I’m sorry that was rude of me to presume,” you cringe.
“No, no, don’t worry,” he placates kindly. “Georgia’s mother left me when she was just a toddler. But six months ago, she cut off all contact and moved abroad. It’s been…” he pauses to sigh and roughly rubs his eyebrow, “…a tough adjustment, to be honest, mostly for Georgia. It’s been challenging trying to explain gently but honestly to a six-year-old that, in essence, her mother wants nothing to do with her.”
“I’m so very sorry,” you murmur, and part of you itches to reach out and give his hand a sympathetic squeeze as he picks his cuticles, probably unconsciously. “I can’t imagine why anyone would abandon her; she is quite the sweetest little child imaginable.”
You know it’s unprofessional to say so, but you want to comfort him human to human. And for some reason, you feel completely at ease being open and honest with him. His eyes flick up from his hands, and they are so soulful you once again feel tongue-tied.
“Thank you,” he demures.
“She talks about you a lot, too, in class. My dad did this; my dad did that. She looks up to you so much. You must be an excellent single parent,” you reassure, then lean forward over the table. “Umm, please don’t let anyone know I said any of this; it’s very unprofessional.”
His face morphs into a look of surprise, and then a lopsided smile tugs at the right corner of his mouth as he mirrors your stance, leaning in. “Your secret is safe with me,” he chuckles as you feel your blood run warm. “But it will cost you….” he adds teasingly.
Your eyes dart to his uncertain. “W-what?” You stumble, genuinely concerned for the first time about your job.
He leans back in the chair, assuming a very relaxed stance, that crooked smile growing more prominent. “Yes. The price is your apple crumble recipe. Georgia brought some home; she said you had made it for the class to commemorate the school centennial. And it was quite the best dessert we have ever eaten.”
You exhale the breath you were holding, relieved and can’t help the giggle that bubbles up. “Deal,” you agree.
This is quite the most casual and flirtatious you have ever been with a parent, and you suddenly become cognisant of it. Sitting up straighter and clearing your throat, you shift gear a little, discussing the details of his daughter’s progress. He listens intently, nods, and asks questions at appropriate moments.
“Usually, I would conclude with suggested things you can do at home to assist your child,” you wrap up, “but, to be honest, for Georgia, I have no suggestions. She is just a delight and could not do any better. Just keep doing as you are; she will go far in this world.”
He clutches his chest, patently proud of his little girl, but you find yourself fixated on the crisscross of raised veins mapping the back of his large hand. Your traitorous brain chooses this moment to give you a vivid flash of that hand grabbing your flesh, making you squeak in your throat and a shiver run down your spine involuntarily, goosebumps breaking out over your arms.
“Are you alright?”
“Sorry, must be a draught from somewhere,” you fib, tugging at your cardigan sleeve. “Old school buildings and all,” you titter nervously.
He nods in understanding, but his eyes linger slightly longer than necessary on your body.
“Why are you a Mrs if you wear no wedding ring?” he blurts, then looks mortified. “God, I’m sorry, that is really none of my business,” he admits, blushing endearingly.
Your heart leaps into your throat at the idea he checked, but you maintain composure by waving a dismissive hand. “No, don’t worry, it's fine. I’m, umm, actually a widow,” you confess, seeing his eyes soften with sympathy. “Oh, it was a few years ago now,” you preempt the platitudes, “and I never took his last name for work, but I did change to Mrs at the school’s suggestion. I keep thinking I will change back to Ms one of these days, but all my pupils know me as Mrs you know,” you shrug with a nonplussed look.
He chuckles understandingly. “I’m sorry that happened,” he offers more soberly, and you nod.
“And I’m sorry for what happened to you and Georgia. She is doing remarkably, considering.”
Your time together is naturally wrapping up, but you are reluctant to voice it, and he seems in no hurry to move.
“At the risk of sounding completely inappropriate,” he hedges with a very beguilingly almost sheepish mien, “may I have your phone number?”
Your heart pounds, and you resist the temptation to squeal like a teenager or even show it on your face.
“Certainly,” you respond brightly. “I am always available to parents to discuss anything to do with their child’s education,” you try to justify as you scribble your number on a new page of your notepad.
“And what if I don’t want to discuss my child?” He asks quietly, his tone turning smoother, “may I still text you?”
You almost rip the paper straight through as you try to detach it from the metal spirals. You are certain your face is giving you away now, feeling flushed from your toes to your eyes.
“Yes,” you whisper, nervously glancing to meet his eyes for a brief second that feels blistering as you fold the paper and push it over the table towards him.
His fingertips brush yours as he takes the paper, and your body riots at that simple touch.
“Thank you,” he says sotto voce. “I look forward to connecting more,” he adds as he stands. You try your best not to ogle his body in his fitted dark wash jeans as he tucks the note in his pocket, but it’s at eye height now. And you try to ignore how his shirt hangs off his broad shoulders when you look up, but mostly, you fail.
You stand too, feeling awkward, and hold out your hand to shake, as you do with every parent.
He looks briefly bemused, then takes your hand in his. It’s warm, the skin soft except for some callouses where he holds a pen or maybe a paintbrush, and the size engulfs yours. You never want to let go. Fireworks explode behind your ribs as his eyes dance even under the harsh gym lights.
“It was wonderful to meet you, Mr Bridgerton,” you parrot your usual parting line at him, but somehow, it feels weighted with additional meaning.
“Likewise, Ms y/l/n,” he replies pointedly, not using the Mrs, as his thumb swipes distractingly over the back of your hand, not letting go. “And please call me Ben,” he requests duskily, finally stepping away, his fingers gradually slipping from yours.
You just nod, almost unable to speak, not trusting your tongue at this moment. You try not to watch Benedict walk away towards the exit, but again, you fail miserably.
Less than thirty seconds later, your phone buzzes in your bag. It’s a number you don’t recognise.
BB: I’ll need that apple crumble recipe for tomorrow if you don’t mind. I have a big family lunch on Saturday and have been roped into bringing dessert.
You giggle, your fingers fly over the screen, composing a response in your lap, even as the next parents pull up to take a seat.
Y/N: Okay… but good luck. Most of the secret is in the prep…
BB: Hmm, then a demo might be best. Fancy being a culinary teacher tomorrow after work?
Your heart flutters hard, and you must mumble an apology to the waiting parents as you can’t resist firing off a flirty response.
Y/N: But what if I don’t want to give away my trade secrets just yet? 😉
BB: Fair. Then my family will have to settle for Tesco’s finest cake instead…
Y/N: I can’t in all good conscience let that happen. OK, you have a deal. 7pm tmrw?
BB: 👍😁
You spend the rest of the Parents' Evening floating on a little cloud. You even smile through the meeting with Damien’s parents, who couldn’t be more aptly named.
The next evening, when his front door sweeps open, Benedict and Georgia are wearing matching pinstripe aprons, faces so eager. They look so adorable you crack a smile from ear to ear.
“Where’s your apron, Mrs y/l/n?” Georgia pipes up.
You smile, then reach into your shoulder bag and pull out your trusty apron with a flourish.
She breaks into giggles and does a happy little dance as Benedict gestures for you to come in with an exaggerated bow.
By the time you leave, hours later, they have a delicious apple crumble for their family lunch the following day, and Georgia is sleeping soundly. You have an apron dusted in flour, a tingle on your lips from his wondrous kisses and a lightness in your being that fizzes like champagne.
The following day, he texts that the apple crumble was such a success his mother demanded the recipe on the spot. Then, a few seconds later, another message asking you to drop by. You practically trip in the rush to get out the door.
When his front door sweeps open this time, he’s alone and dressed handsomely in a white shirt with those jeans. You are powerless to do anything but push up onto your tiptoes and kiss him immediately. And when he whispers hotly in your ear that Georgia is staying with her cousins for the night, you almost melt right into his doorstep.
It turns out Georgia was not the only blessing you got from the Bridgerton family.
Benedict taglist: @makaylan @foreverlonginguniverse @iboopedyournose @colettebronte @aintnuthinbutahounddog @severewobblerlightdragon @margofiore @writergirl-2001 @heeyyyou @enichole445 @enchantedbytomandhenry @ambitionspassionscoffee @chaoticcalzoneranchsports @nikaprincessofkattegat @baebee35 @crowleysqueenofhell @bridgertontess @fiction-is-life @lilacbeesworld @angels17324 @broooookiecrisp @queen-of-the-misfit-toys @eleanor-bradstreet @divaanya @musicismyoxygen84 @benedictspaintbrush @miindfucked @sorryallonsy @lilithseve @cayt0123 @hottytoddyhistory @truly-dionysus @fictionalmenloversblog @zinzysstuff @malpalgalz @panhoeofmanyfandoms @kinokomoonshine @causeimissu @delehosies @Mlovesbridgerton @m-rae23 @last-sheep @kmc1989 @desert-fern @starkeylover @corpseoftrees-queen @jeanfreau @magical-spit @bunnyweasley23
#benedict bridgerton fanfiction#benedict bridgerton#benedict bridgerton fluff#benedict bridgerton x reader#benedict bridgerton x female reader#benedict bridgerton x you#benedict bridgerton x y/n#benedict bridgerton imagine#bridgerton fanfiction#bridgerton#bridgerton imagine#bridgerton fluff#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton x female reader
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Sir Crocodile x Chronically ill!Reader pt.4
So, most of this work is posted on my ao3 account actually. But since some of y'all actually do wanna see it here too, so here it is.
Pt.3, Pt.5
Accs which wanna be tagged: @tsumu-senpai
The first time you saw him drunk, you hadn't gone to the same gala as him, since you felt slightly weary and a wee bit ill. He went, telling you to get well soon.
You'd taken some meds, and were in bed, a little too engrossed in the cheap porn novel your friend had given you.
Most of your friends were slightly tensed about Crocodile being your husband but they kept it under wraps. Which meant they asked you polite questions about him and regarded him with suspicion if he came even remotely close to you in their presence. Crocodile, however, either didn't care or didn't realize it and never asked you anything along the lines of, "Why do your friends look like an angry bunch of Marines around me?" (Which you were quite thankful for.)
They'd given you the book on account of how truly ridiculous it was. It featured a pillow coming to life (which was more alarming than anything) and falling in love and lust with the owner. You were lying in bed, half wheezing, half cringing at some of the more steamy scenes when you heard a very loud thump.
You froze. Of course, it could have been Daz, or someone else but at this hour of the night? You checked the clock, which showed 2:45 AM.
Way, too late for someone to be awake. You got up, grabbing your book and a den-den, just in case. Opening the bedroom door, you peeked out seeing a clearly very drunk Crocodile with a hand on the wall, right outside the bedroom door.
"Oh! You're....drunk?" You said, baffled. You were also uncertain of what was he like drunk given that you'd never exactly seen him drunk.
He blinked at you a few times, unspeaking, before reaching out with his hook and tugging your collar. Pulling you forward, waiting till you were close, then he bent down and kissed you.
Now, yes he had kissed you at your wedding, and yes he had kissed you on your head and cheeks occasionally but lips? Not really. Plus, you didn't want this. This felt wrong and really not the right time. So you did what anyone would do, and that was lightly slapping his shoulder a few times, making muffled noises against his warm mouth (and was that his tongue? Yep that was his tongue) till he pulled back, panting.
"Stop. Just-Just stop, you're drunk" You said breathlessly, hands cupping his cheeks.
He didn't speak, just looked into your eyes with a look that spoke of wanting more. However, you knew that he wouldn't. Not if you didn't want it, for that was what he had proved to you all this time.
"C'mon, let's get you to bed, okay?" You murmured, one hand moving to pat his shoulder. He grunted, standing up straighter and walking if not very slightly swaying, and moved to the bed, settling down on it heavier than usual. You followed behind and tugged at his coat.
"Alright, let's just take this off first," You said softly. He shrugged off the coat, complying. When you came back, you tapped his hook.
"Can I take this off? You can't sleep with it on" He scowled at that before removing it, letting you take the metal piece off his stump.
You placed it on the table in the room before coming back to him, only to yelp in surprise when he suddenly grabbed you, pulling you to himself again. This time, he just held you, arms crossed over your front, seated on his lap, back to his chest where he buried his face in your hair.
"Are you....angry?" He whispered into your hair.
"Angry? Why?"
".....For earlier"
You reached up a hand, to his jaw, caressing it. "No. I....enjoyed it. But not when you're like this. I would enjoy it more when you're not like this."
He seemed to stiffen, before squeezing you ever so slightly. "Every time I think I know you...." He seemed to mutter softly.
When he woke up hours later, with a miserable hangover, he seemed to be resting his forehead against a warm and soft surface. Felt hands cradling the back of his head, along with soft breaths blown on his hair. He opened his eyes only to see you curled around him, cradling his head to your chest. He stayed like that for 2 seconds before closing his eyes and going back to sleep.
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FROM THE SIDELINES x suffocatingspring
I WANNA PREFACE THIS BY SAYING IM OPEN TO OPINIONS BUT NOT STRAIGHT UP HATE OR NASTINESS!
so i am a LATE fan to the mha fandom, i heard of the anime in like ? 2020 but i actually didn’t start watching anime myself until 2023 LOL. anyways- i think started watching the anime in like june/july of 2024? so i watched the last few episodes of season 7 as they aired. i immediately jumped into the fandom bc i needed MORE so i did what every sane person does and i watched edits, followed fan pages & YES i flew to ao3 bc i am not a stranger to fanfiction lol. the first mha fanfic i read was actually called In Medias Res by whileyouresleeping- (i adore this fic so much! its bkdk as an established relationship but turns into a bkdktd fic and it’s so beautifully written!) so the more i got into the fandom i saw a repeating trend with from the sidelines.. some ppl hated it, others loved it, it was talked about as THE bkdk fanfic so i was like ok i’ll give it a whirl, what the worst that could happen? RIP. so yeah i read ten fic late November (bc i remember reading at the dinner table during thanksgiving lol) and ha. this fic uprooted my fucking life. so here’s what i need to get off my chest before i scream:
1. i’ve been reading fanfiction since i was maybe 11 years old and yes i read sex scenes and YES i read MM or FF sex scenes. bro i promise the ppl who are mad about a FAN WRITTEN piece of literature featuring high schoolers based of FICTIONAL characters need to relax. the fic is tagged as smut so really what the hell else is the author supposed to do to “protect” readers? like bro just don’t read it if you don’t like what’s in the tags ??? the hate the author gets is soooo unnecessary like yeah i get it they are in high school in the fic but um.. real life high schoolers have sex i’m sorry to tell yall
2. SHE (the author) WAS LIKE 16 WHEN SHE WROTE THAT!!?!?!?!? 404k WORDS?!?!? ARE YALL MISSING THAT!?!? I CANT WRAP MY HEAD AROUNF THAT!!!!! its so beautifully written like seriously, for a CHILD to write something so well written that’s mind blowing. she is so underrated as a writer. you can SEE THE SCENES so clearly, i FELT the emotions, that angst tag nearly killed me cause OOOOOOO there was times i had to sit my phone down and walk around because i felt physically ill LMAO (sry i’m dramatic but yes it did happen) so like yeah the hatred the author gets is the worst, bc her work was an actual masterpiece
3. the outfits: …. ok ok were they cringe? yes. did i hate them so much that i wouldn’t recommend the fic because of it? girl no. and if i’m being 100% honest…. when i read the outfits i literally just made up my own shit in my head… idk what most ppl do when they read something like that but the outfit choice was such a minor detail like i just changed it in my head and continues reading with the characters in the outfits i imagined myself ? i read “blue tights and white oversized sweater” for the scene at the party i think? and i remember thinking yeah that’s not bad…. but what if he wore tight dark wash skinny jeans and a cropped sweater with a collar instead? and boom i continued happily reading with that outfit in my head :D same with the …. slip dress .. yeah idk i get the idea she was going for but in my head i just made him wear a mesh top with micro shorts and kept it pushing. the outfits weren’t that big of a deal and i think some ppl might not be capable of making their own reality when reading or maybe the lil images they have in their head are already tied to something negative? but for it to be such a big deal amongst fts haters i really just wanted to tell them they hated it because they can’t read LOL
4. the fucking soundtrack: yo. i haven’t read a fic that had a soundtrack SOOOO PERFECTLY MATCHED oh my gosh i’ve changed as a person bc now when i read a car scene/ dancing scene/ adventure scene/ ANYTHING all i can think is “damn what the music? what’s the vibes? FUCK.” like fts spoileddddd meeee UGHFJFJFJJG. NOT TO MENTION!!!!!! my dad grew up in the 80s so nearly all of those songs i knew previously because i had heard them growing up! ANNDDDDD i had two of the songs (take my breath away and nothings gonna change my love for you) on my FUCKING WEDDING PLAYLIST!!!!!! BEFORE I WAS EVEN A MHA FAN!!!!!!! NOW. HOW AM I GONNA DANCE AT MY WEDDING TO TAKE MY BREATH AWAY WITHOUT SOBBING BC OF BKDK !!!! HELLLPPP!!!!! but no seriously THAT SCENE bruh… nothing at my wedding would be that romantic i’ve accepted it lmaoooo. but yes i made my own fts playlist plus added some other 80s love songs and i listen to it DAILY. since nov 2024 ive been listening to every breath you take and happily fueling my delusions. i hear a whisp of 80s music in the grocery store and start hallucinating. AND I DON’T CARE!!!!! the playlist amplified the whole experience 100 fold and the contrast between katsuki’s character and the music choice just itched my brain TEW GOOD.
5. the height difference: ….. some of y’all TOO strict omggggg like bffr…. of all the things to get your underwear in a wad over ??? bye i can’t take y’all seriously
6. the smut scenes: LISTEN. i used to read larry fanfiction ok and when i say nothing has surprised me since…. so i mean it when i say that from the bottom of my heart that the fts scenes were TASTEFULLY WRITTEN AND JUST PLAIN GOOD?? unrealistic? maybe. but THATS WHAT THE PPL WANT!!!!! WHY WRITE A FIC WITH ACCURATE ANATOMY AND REALISTIC SEX SCENES WHEN YOU CAN WRITE A MASTERPIECE!!!!!!! like the quote: “we can run through the whole pack” AYOOO??!!? I SCREAMMEDDDD!!!!!! a man’s refractory period between sex is quite long (in my own personal experience) so that sentence had my head fuzzy & skin hot … AND IT WAS THE FIRST SCENE!!!! and i loved that the scenes were mostly vanilla (vanilla as in missionary & no heavy bdsm or other dynamics) it was passionate, RAW, and just so tender… and YES even the whole “pretend to make love” uuuUYGGHHHHGDHFHFH ARE YOU KIDDING!!!!! i ate that shit up bc that boy was NOT PRETENFING !!!! DONT YALL GET IT !????! FUCKKKKKKK!!!!! jeez it was all so very perfect, call me the #1 fts glazer IDC IDC IDC
7. I DID NOT READ THE ALTERNATE ENDING!!!!!! I CHOOSE PEACE!!!!! DONT SHARE A THING!!!!!!!!
8. i wish with all my heart, soul and essence that the author would release some fts one shots. i cry. like FUCK!!! i want to know how THIS relationship looks on like…. graduation day! or maybe one day katsuki gets an injury & izuku babies him back to health and katsuki pretends to hate it even tho he secretly loves it. i need a fts one shot of these two fucks buying an apartment together. a one shot of the day izuku moves out of his moms house. LIKE GUYS!!!!!! COULD YOU IMAGINE A FTS ONE SHOT OF BKDK PROPOSING????? PLEASE SOMEONE CRY WITH ME.
9. CAN SOMEONE PLLEASSEEEEEE DRAW MORE FTS FAN ART???? FUCK. IF I GOTTA LEARN TO DRAW AND DO IT MYSELF I WILL DAMN.
oKAY IM DONE
sorry that was long and annoying but you don’t understand i’ve been going fucking insane since i finished this fic and i have no one to talk to about it and all the comments i see online are like totally fucking rude and negative!!!! idc if you call me a meat rider the fic was overall fucking amazing and i really think most of the hate is forced. like even if you thought it was out of character, the writing/story itself was monumentally better than most books i’ve read in my life. i just love from the sidelines so much and ive shed REAL TEARS over this fic i just !!!!! i’m past saving at this point.
BUT! if anyone agrees with anything i said or wants to share their thoughts id love someone to fangirl with!!! lemme know your fav quotes! or your favorite scene! lemme know your fic recommendations! and PLEASE lemme know your post fts coping mechanisms!!! :333
#bkdk#bakudeku#fts#from the sidelines#ao3 fanfic#fanfic#bkdk fic#mha#mha bkdk#80s aesthetic#the brainrot is real#rant post
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ty for tagging me tessa @clayvedevs !!!!!!!!!
1. Do you make your bed?
NO. making the bed is evil and also too hard
2. Favourite number?
uhhh UHHHH 12 ? 12 is a good number i liked being twelve. 67 is also a good number !!
3. What's your job?
divine prophet of The Bog (extremely unemployed)
4. If you could go back to school, would you?
yes !!!! i lovee school i lovee learning & my hs? extremely chill
5. Can you parallel park?
yes fire emoji fire emoji fire emoji
6. Do you think aliens are real?
I feel like the possibility that there AREN'T aliens is extraordinarily low, even if they haven't evolved yet or would be completely unrecognisable as a form of life to us. the universe is still comparatively so so young so i feel the chances that at some point in the next quadzillion years that the circumstances of earth won't be replicated at least in part is hugely unlikely
7. Can you drive a manual car?
technically? i learnt to drive in a manual ute that is ABSOLUTELY not roadworthy but i did not get a manual licence :( sort of regret that but im sure if i got back in a manual i could do it again. probably
8. Guilty pleasure?
thinking in depth and forever abt my girl in middle earth oc hobbit fic that i havent properly written since like 2021. she means the WORLD to me i could make it sooo good if i just got over the evil puritans in my head telling me it is cringe
9. Tattoos?
soon!!! one day!!!! trust and believe!!!!!!!
10. Favourite colour?
loveeeeee yellow i love yellow so much soo much. unfortunately i am ginger.
11. Favourite type of music?
idk if i have a favourite TYPE of music persay? but ive sort of been bouncing between a mix of folk rock and Silly Power Metal and i will hit up the odd soundtrack also. wait actually this is untrue i am, embarrassingly, really into hyperpop (UNDERSCORES I LOVE YOU)
12. Do you like puzzles?
yeah! they're kind of evil and i am not great at pattern recognition and they hurt my back. but also v satisfying to do
13. Any phobias?
ants i fucking hate ants i HATE them (i stood in a bullant nest when i was 2) + also maybe thalassophobia? idk though that may have also been cured by the time i played 130 hours of subnautica in a week in december
14. Favourite childhood sport?
touch footie!!! i was very good at it lowk and i miss playing it terribly
15. Do you talk to yourself?
LMAO YEAH. when im thinking about writing especially. or doing literally anything. i will talk to myself
16. Tea or coffee?
TEA I LOVE TEA I LOVE TEA SO MUCH. i cannot drink coffee because The Side Effects + caffeine does not seem to have the intended effect on me, so i don't really drink caffeinated tea that much either? i absolutely LOVE rooibos with honey in it though one million out of ten
17. First thing you wanted to be when growing up?
i wanted to be a scientist because i was under the impression that scientists blew things up and that it was exclusively their job to do that. i still want to be a scientist tbh but for different reasons
18. What movies do you adore?
im so normal and regular and fine about the hobbit extended edition trilogy. so normal. no but fr i love unexpected journey i have watched it more than twenty times total and. five times in the last week and a bit LOL
Tagging:
@sithfox @hastalavistabyebye @patchmates @rockcattomato and anyone else who would like to !!!!
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Thank you for the tag, lovely @crepesuzette2023! It's been nice to take some time to think about my fics!
How many works do you have on ao3?
20; 18 are Johnlock (BBC) and two, the most recent ones, are mclennon.
What’s your total word count?
306,378 (I was stunned to see this, I had no idea).
What are your top 5 fics by kudos?
All are Johnlock: Mark Your Calendars, my beloved Erosion, Detours, Plus One and Turned - Part I : Queen and Country.
Do you respond to comments? Why/why not?
I try to be very good about it and respond as often as I can, but the truth is I'm a bit of an emotional wreck so when there's a rush of comments I get overwhelmed and over emotional about them, and tend to put it off for a while. I read them ALL, and I often go back and re-read them.
What's the fic you've written with the angstiest ending?
I had to refresh my memory but it's def Every Other Universe ("What if in every other universe John Watson leaves?"). It's one of my very earliest ones and I cringe a little reading it, but it's a very neat idea. Gretna Green Waltz, a mclennon fic, is very devastating if I may say so myself, and was written as such knowingly. It only reflects reality, though, and that's just as devastating.
What's the fic you've written with the happiest ending?
I think Mark Your Calendars has the happiest ending, judging by the numbers of kudos, but for me as the writer, the cosiest, most joy-bringing ending was that of Simon (or: Love Calls You by Your Name).
Do you write crossovers?
The sadly abandoned Turned series is a crossover with Homeland.
Have you ever received hate on a fic?
Not hate, but some less-than-considerate "when's the next chapter???" comments. I don't bother with them.
Do you write smut? If so, what kind?
Yes I do :)
Have you ever had a fic stolen?
Don't think so!
Have you ever had a fic translated?
I remember being asked, but I'm not sure what happened with it! Some of my fics got podficced, though: Mark Your Calendars is available as podfic, and so is I Have not Lingered (thanks to the lovely @helloliriels)
Have you ever co-written a fic before?
No, I'm so neurotic and particular I don't think I'm cut out for that.
What's your all-time favourite ship?
Mulder and Scully are DEFINITELY the mothership and always will be. I still sigh about them in a special, exasperated way about three times a week. I'm still here with Johnlock of course, but I'm pretty sure mclennon has been in the back of my mind for decades, but I was too haunted by other ships to fall down that rabbit hole. Look at me, though, here I am.
What's a WIP that you want to finish but don't think you ever will?
Turned, very sadly. So much so that I've considered taking it off AO3 but I'm so proud of what I did achieve with it.
What are your writing strengths?
I think my best writing moments are the ones that hook unto my real, personal experiences, not just a general idea of life situations. Erosion is based on my own personal grief and family losses, and Gretna Green Waltz is a retelling of my biggest heartache. I have noticed readers can tell when you're really putting your heart into a story.
What are your writing weaknesses?
English isn't my first language, which means I have to rely on betas which for me sadly slows me down - I want to be able to just write them and post them otherwise I overthink. I'm also a screenwriter irl, and I noticed a pattern that is another weakness - I always have banger openings, or first acts to my stories/screenplays, but sometimes I don't know the ending and I get lost and hesitant. That's why Gretna Green Waltz was SUCH a surprise - much like Junk, the song that haunts Paul throughout the fic, came to him in one piece, GGW landed in my head as a full story. I wrote it in TWO WEEKS! That NEVER happened before!
What are your thoughts on writing dialogue in other languages in a fic?
It really depends on how it's done. If it's 2-3 sentences and they're simple I assume the readers will Google Translate it. Jinglebell stands out as someone who did it really well in multi-chapter fic that's all about Sherlock discovering that John is a polyglot, so it can be done well.
What was the first fandom you wrote for?
Johnlock (for which I started writing during covid in 2020), although as a reader it was TXF, back in in 90s and early 2000s.
What's a fandom/ship you haven't written for yet but want to?
The X-Files. I've had a Scully character study in my head for years that I just can't get right.
What's your favourite fic you've written?
With Johnlock it would have to be the now-abandoned Turned, and mclennon it would be Gretna Green Waltz. I am very proud of both.
Tagging @menlove, @discordantwords, @saint-mona, @totallysilvergirl @m1ssunderstanding @slippinmickeys @kettykika78 @agrlsname @arwamachine @calaisreno @aggressivewhenstartled and anyone who sees this who wants to participate :)
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L- O - V - E, LOVE THE WAY YOU GIVE IT TO ME !



𝙰𝙱𝙾𝚄𝚃 𝙼𝙴 જ⁀➴
hi, my name's ellie and welcome to my blog!
i just started writing on this platform last september 2023. i've been writing fics since i was twelve (yes, it was cringe) on wattpad. i would absolutely love to read your feedback on my work, or be friends!
my inbox is always open for anything 🫶🏻
masterlist + rules
anyway, here are some lil facts about me:
i'm 22 years old • she/her • filo-canadian • enfp • october libra, baby! • mother of a four year old girl • a gryffindor child of aphrodite • has adhd, mild dyslexia, and wears glasses • has photographic memory • loves writing (obvi), music, and reading
- i live in the philippines, so pls bear with me. i try to be awake the whole night so i can post when most of my followers are awake
- as i've mentioned, i am a mother to a four year old. so when i get delays in posting, blame her (lol pls don't blame my kid)
- pls don't be rude to me :( i cry at the simplest things :( so hate will definitely be deleted.
Here are my mutuals, btw <3
my somehow family:
my lovely wifey: @jennapancake
my lover: @ravenintraining
my other lover: @nonsense-exists
our child: @aelia-posts
my besties who i adore sm even tho we rarely talk:
@lilmaymayy @ma1dita @iliketopgun @mxtokko @scarlettbrielle <3
xoxo, el 🩷
TAGS
#ellie's works 📚 - my works, all them
#el's writing ✍🏻 - basically just the same thing as above
#ellie's fic recs 💘 - fic recs! my fave fics ever!
#ellie's random shit 🤪 - just me being me? idk. everything's random
#fic feedbacks <333 - feedback on my fics! my fave tag ever 🥰
#ellie's asks 💌 - ask answers! i love asks! send me a bunch!
#update ‼️- basically everything that's an update in my life
#yappin' with ellie ✨ - yapping!! talking to my moots and stuff!
#my lovers!! 🥰 - my lovely mutuals!!
#reblogs! 📌 - my reblogs, some are random, but yeah
#ellie speaks 🗣️ - me just ranting and shit
#mama talks! 🐣 - just me talking about my little girl!
𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐑𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐈𝐗𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍
╰┈➤ CHARLIE BUSHNELL
╰┈➤ LUKE CASTELLAN
╰┈➤ KENJI KON
╰┈➤ BEN PINCUS
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I Knew you were Trouble❤️🔥
Part 3
Pairing: Jimmy Uso x reader
AN: if you would like tagged let me know 💖 Trinity is still with WWE. No specific timeline
⚠️ Warnings: 18+ , swearing, violence (this is the WWE after all) slight smut, infidelity, jealous Jimmy, bad writing, cringe story telling, the Usos (because they are a warning in themselves) ⚠️
JIMMY IS SO FINE LIKE 😭🤤 HELP!!!! Also is anyone else just loving how much fun he’s having on Smackdown right now????? YEEET 🤪 NO YEET 😐
The hustle and bustle of the gorilla can be a bit much for some people but not me, it strangely helps me get in the zone, ready to become my onscreen persona and throw yn out the window. Hunter confirmed the timeline for myself and trinity to win the tag team titles - five weeks away at Summerslam. Trin was still determined to get us an in ring team name and had enlisted Beverly the seamstress to start working on matching outfits - I love her but when she sets her mind to something - nothing and I mean nothing stands in her way.
Tonight I had a singles match against Liv Morgan, a simple one on one match with a clean win for me. Waiting for my cue the Uso’s come through the curtain after finishing their match. Josh greets me with his huge infectious smile and warm embrace, Jon on the other hand greets me with his signature fiery stare.
“Good luck out there yn. The crowd is on fire tonight!”
Josh walks away leaving me standing with Jon once more.
“We need to stop meeting like this.” Jon says with a smirk
“Ah yes, however it is hard when we work at the same place and are friends with the same people, the likelihood of us continually bumping into each other is pretty high.” Proud of my self for my reply I look at him smiling awaiting his response.
“Ya know, for a pretty girl you have a pretty smartass mouth. I sure hope you ain’t all talk and can back up that mouth babygirl.” He gives me a final once over and heads over to Josh who is standing chatting to his cousin Joe.
Focus yn, focus.
“Yn, you’ve missed your cue, get out there NOW.”
Shit. I don’t need distractions right now, I need to prove to Hunter and everyone backstage that i deserve to be here and I deserve these titles.
My match against Liv went to plan, we only had a 7 minute slot so it was quick and effective.
Trin
Hey so a few of us are heading to dinner before you guys have to be back on the road for the European tour. You in?
Yn
Of course girl, lemme get ready and I’ll meet you at the car 💗
Trin
I’ve already left the arena, but Jon and Josh are still there, tag along with them and I’ll see you at dinner 💕
Great. The more I try to keep away from Jon the more fate keeps throwing us together.
The car ride to the restaurant was pretty normal actually. Jon and Josh were in the front talking tactics from their match and goofing off. Me on the other hand was a simple bystander to this, it was nice. The bond the boys have is special, really warms the heart.
“Earth to yn!”
Josh snaps me out of my thoughts
“Sorry, um what were you saying?”
“Damn, not even paying attention to me huh.”
“Oh shush Josh, I’m tired.” I say laughing, I wouldn’t tell them that the real reason I was preoccupied was because I was in awe of them and their bond, those boys don’t need bigger heads.
With Josh fake falling out with me, I turn my attention to Jon.
“Can you tell me what he said?”
“Please?” I beg batting my eyelids, being a little flirtatious always gave me the upper hand, but with Jon it was dangerous territory I was entering.
Looking at me from the mirror he licks his lips.
“Sorry yn! Ain’t no way I ain’t siding with my bro.”
“That’s right uce. Day ones!”
Josh turns to me with a smug ass look on his face. Rolling my eyes I turn my attention to my phone ignoring them both.
Sighing I question “how am I going to manage myself with you two double teaming me.”
Jon’s eyes dart to the mirror with a playful glint in his eyes.
“Im sure you’ll be able to take us.” His eyes revert back to the road as we pull up to the restaurant.
Fluttering. Everywhere. That’s the only way I can describe it. There wasn’t a part in my body left that hadn’t been effected by Jon and his words. When I said double teaming me I hadn’t meant anything by it other than then ganging up on me but now, all I can think about is both their hands on me, Josh attacking my neck, Jon all over my breasts sucking and caressing them.
“You’ve been pretty quiet tonight, what’s up?” Trin enquires.
Truth is I’ve been distracted, Jon’s words in the car, watching Jon interact with Trin like a normal husband and wife, the feeling of jealousy and shame washing over me.
“I’m just tired honestly, plus I’ve still got so much to do before I leave for Europe tomorrow.”
“And moody, was all pissy with me in the car earlier, right Jon?”
“She sure was.”
I look at the twins and flip them off making the everyone at the table laugh lightening the mood. I hate how one man has effect me so much. And I know it’s only going to get worse once we kick of the European tour. No wife and me close by for 7 whole days - it has disaster written all over it.
Sorry it’s kinda short, felt like this was a good place to end! Anyhooo
Tagged: @southerngirl41 @missfamilyjeweles @jeyusos-girl @christinabae @jeyusosgirl @raya-hunter01 @harlem11680 @theogsamoanqueen @harmshake
#wwe fanfiction#wwe#fatu#jimmy uso fanfiction#jimmy uso smut#jimmy uso x reader#wwe x you#wwe x reader#wwe smut#jonathan fatu
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