#just something I've been thinking about lately | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

gardengirl222 · 3 days

Note

omg lene you should do something about a 80's slashers au with rafe and the boys that would be soooo cool!! ❤️❤️

!!! omigod yesss i'm gonna start with 80's slasher!rafe if feel like he'd be a creepy little stalkerrr, def season 2 rafe 💞

𐦍༘₊ ⊹ warnings! 18+ - non con, violence, stalking, spanking, slight breeding kink, knife play, dark!rafe - ₊˚⊹

you sat in the comfort of your bedroom, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight, finishing up some homework while talking with a girlfriend of yours on the phone. you reach your hand out to your nightstand to grab the nail file when the sound of the door closing causes you to freeze, being left home alone, your heart starts to race, and you hang up the phone and walk up to your door. you pull down your pretty little white nightgown so it covers your ass as you press your ear to the door to make sure it was just your parents.

all you hear is silence so you shrug and convince yourself it was just your mind playing tricks on you, then the phone starts to ring again, thinking it was just your friend calling you back, and you pick up the phone.

"hello?" you speak with your voice lowered.

"hey babyface" you stop moving when you hear a voice you don't recognize.

"who's calling?" you try to sound assertive but end up sounding like a scared puppy.

"i've been uh- watching you for a long time, an' i figured i should introduce myself," he says, his voice all gravely. you grip on the handle of the phone and reach an arm over to close your curtains quickly.

"stop that! it's not funny, whoever this is leave me alone." you almost whine.

"nah can't do that baby, you looked too pretty in that nightgown...you wearin' panties underneath?" he continues.

"i'm gonna call my boyfriend an-and he'll find out who you are and beat you up!" you stutter.

"you're not gonna do that, cuz uh- i'm in the house, and if you hang up-"

"i'll call the police!" you cut him off.

"i need you to listen to me, if you don't wanna die, you need to walk down to the living room slowly- you try to run and i'll catch you. if you don't come down, i'll go up n'get you." he then hangs up, your chest heaving as tears start to form in your eyes, you think about climbing out the window but it is on the second floor and the man might catch you and kill you! you decide to grab a chair to put against the door to keep him coming in but it's too late, as you take one step backward trying to drag the chair you feel the blade of a knife press against your neck. you gasp, ready to scream.

"shshshsh, behave." the man shushes you, pressing himself behind you, god he must be tall. "told you to listen" he coos condescendingly.

"please, please don't..." you sob.

"hey, hey! shut up- listen to me alright?" he raises his voice causing you to shut your eyes and nod slowly in fear, tears spill down your face. "good girl. want you to lay down on your bed and stay there, don't move, scream, talk or do anything 'less i tell you." you nod again slowly and he removes the knife from your neck, you do as you are told and lay down on your bed, silently sobbing.

you look at the man, face now lit up by the soft light of your nightstand lamp, you watch him come closer and wipe some of the sweat forming on his forehead under his messy hair with the back of his hand that's holding the knife. he grins, getting up on your bed and tossing the knife next to him as he pins you down.

"r-rafe?..." you whisper, now realizing who it is.

"yeah! yeah baby it's me..." he continues to grin.

"get off! please rafe, i don't wanna do this with you!" you whine and start to squirm a little bit.

"you don't really have a choice." he mumbles as he runs his rough hands up and down your thighs, stopping to grab the hem of your lace panties. "you wear this for me?" he says pulling them down as you really start to cry, trying to get him off of you by pushing at his shoulders but he's too strong.

"i have a- my boyfriend-" you start but then he looks back into your eyes and smiles again. "nah, you don't, i got rid of 'im... cut him up, he's in the trunk of my truck. wanna see?" he asks, his eyes following yours, bringing his hand up to wipe your tears away lovingly.

"why!? why are you doing this!" you sob and try and move your face away from his touch. "i love you, i love you so much and you never talked to me or...looked at me and i need you to love me too…say it…" he demands. you shake your head no and try and push him off, pissed, rafe manhandles you. he flips you onto your stomach and lifts you up by your waist so your face is smushed against the messy sheets, ass in the air. "you fucking brat." he spits out.

he yanks your panties down and smacks your ass with his large hand, holding your wrists in the other. he forcefully spreads your legs and places a hard slap on your poor wet little cunt.

you let out a yelp as he "soothes" your throbbing pussy by rubbing your clit with the rough pads of three fingers. "are you a virgin princess?" he whispers, pressing a gross, sloppy kiss to your cheek. you whine out and try to move your face away. "what? you don't like my kisses?" he leans in again to give you a few more of those wet kisses, making taunting kissy sounds that make you scrunch up your face and mewl.

"gonna make you feel reeeally good baby, gonna make this little pussy cream all over me, yeah?" he rambles, grabbing the knife with his free hand, bringing it back to your neck. "please rafe, i've never- "

"you waited for me? huh? princess saved herself for me." you can hear his smile, he's almost relieved that he will be your first and last. he pulls himself out of his boxers and starts to line himself up. "i would'a stretched you out a bit first but this cunt is a dripping mess already so."

you scream as you feel his fat tip press against your entrance. "shhhhshh, s'just the tip." he murmurs, easing himself in slowly until he's stretching you as you've never felt, his tip kisses your cervix. "ow! it's too big, too much, too big..." you ramble, squeezing down on his cock unable to really move due to the knife.

"n'you are so tight, fuck, this is where you should'a always been..taking me like this babydoll." he grits through his teeth as he starts to thrust causing you to whine and to try and pull your hands away from his grip.

"keep cryin', it's only making me harder princess," he grunts, tears continue to stream down your face. he pounds into you now hard and fast, you wish you could grab onto his shoulders or hair as he starts to hit that sweet spot.

"stop it! rafeeee" you whine, he shushes you by tossing the knife on the bed again and covering your mouth with his hand as he continues his assault on your cunt. "i should cum in you, knock you up so you won't ever be able to leave me." he breathes out, he lets go of your face and wraps that hand around your neck to bring you up to kiss your neck. "no! no no please pull out! please rafe!" you cry.

he lets go of your neck and throws you back down you your face hits the mattress again, he lets go of your wrists so you are now gripping your sheets. "you know that's the knife i used to stab your boyfriend? he begged like a little bitch. he didn't deserve you." he reaches a hand around to grab your pussy and pull you closer to him, then rubbing your throbbing clit.

"m'na cummm" you mewl, body giving into how he's touching you so roughly yet gently.

"i know baby, give it to me, all over my cock c'mon" he encourages with that tone, and feeling him so deep in you and hitting that spot your body goes numb. shutting your eyes tightly as hot white explodes in you making you feel like you are on a roller-coaster.

he grips your waist and with the other hand, he's lovingly brushing back your messy baby hairs due to your sweaty forehead. "atta girl, thereee, see? i knew you could be good for me." he thrusts once more hard and deep, shooting his thick hot load all up in you causing you to whine at the feeling and making him groan.

he pulls out of you, sticking his two fingers into your pussy to push his cum back in, then leaning in to bite your ass. you let out a little scream, he flips you on your back and grabs the knife, gripping your thigh he brings the knife over to carve a little RC into the meat of your thigh. you try not to thrash around but you do let out another little scream at the pain.

"yer' all mine now kid." he smiles, exhaustion taking over as you let out shaky breaths and let him lean in to press icky kiss to your lips. ᥫ᭡

450 notes · View notes

barcaatthemoon · 15 hours

Text

sunny || alexia putellas x reader ||

alexia thinks it's going to be a bad game until she spots you.

alexia's fists were balled up at her sides as she stood in the tunnel. she was desperately trying not to become overwhelmed with frustration. she had spoken with jona at great length about this being her first full 90 back. she felt good all week at practice, but during the warm ups, things took a bad turn.

nothing connected for alexia. her passes felt sloppy, and all the confirmation she needed was the look on her training partner's face. every move that alexia made felt awkward and uncomfortable. a part of her questioned whether she should start at all, but she had to. even if your work meeting ran over, you'd want to tune into the game and see her play. alexia wanted to do this for you.

the two of you had gotten together just after the world cup. you had seen alexia play before, but not really as her girlfriend. alexia wanted the chance to impress you, even if she thought that you couldn't actually come to today's game. she knew that you'd be watching her no matter what, so she absolutely had to play well for you.

"hey ale, isn't that your girl?" sandra teased as she pointed towards the stands. alexia's eyes followed the direction of sandra's finger until she saw you sitting next to her mother. alba sat on your other side, looking bored as the two of you chatted.

"that's her." alexia smiled as she watched the interaction. alba nudged you, interrupting your conversation to point out that alexia was staring. you looked over at her and waved excitedly, just like you always did. alexia waved back at you, hopeful that the heat she felt coming up to her cheeks wasn't visible.

it was silly, but alexia swore that she felt immediately better after you had smiled at her. she had been fully prepared to go into the game feeling awkward and a little uncomfortable, but now she didn't have to. alexia's movements were much more fluid, allowing for her to get a brace within the first half of the game.

barcelona was always a dominant team, and you had always seen alexia as their best player. today, she was proving everybody who had doubted her because of the injury wrong. you were standing and screaming in the stands cheering her on. by the end of the 90 minute game, you were absolutely exhausted as if you had played alongside your girlfriend.

"i think it is safe to say that la reina is back," patri teased as she slung her arm around alexia's shoulders. she glanced over at the stands where you were following alexia's mother as you and alba spoke to each other. alexia tried to shove patri away, but claudia and jana were right there to replace her.

"hmm, i seem to remember somebody very grumpy about today's game earlier." jana tapped her chin as she pretended to think about something. "i wonder what could have changed?"

"guys," alexia warned. her warning fell on deaf ears, but alexia couldn't bring herself to be genuinely mad with them. they were like her children, and you never did let alexia get too hard on them.

"i thought i saw a certain artist in the stands chatting with the better putellas," claudia teased. alexia did swat at the girl for the joke about alba being better. claudia winced and made a show of rubbing her arm, knowing that you were looking at her.

"stop being such a baby, it didn't hurt that badly," alexia grumbled. still, claudia held the pout until the group reached the barrier. alexia realized a second too late when she saw you dart towards claudia instead of her what had happened.

"ale, you can't just hit her. babe, i know you think you're being playful, but you are a lot stronger than you know," you scolded her lightly. alexia rolled her eyes as she shoved claudia away before she could get a hug from you. alexia put herself directly into your arms, squeezing you tight and lifting you into the air as she hugged you. "good game today, i've missed seeing you on the field."

"my little good luck charm," alexia mumbled. behind her, you caught claudia and patri mocking the two of you.

"behave, children," you warned. this time, they both jumped apart and stood still. alexia didn't understand how you could do that, but she was glad that you were around to do so. "go shower and get changed, i was thinking that we could go out to eat?"

"that sounds perfect," alexia hummed. you gave her a moment with her family as you gathered up your things. you waited inside for alexia, not wanting to risk getting a sunburn or heat sickness any more than you already had.

"does it hurt?" mapi asked as she slung her arm around alexia's shoulder. for a moment, alexia was genuinely touched that her friend was concerned about the wellbeing of her knee, but that only lasted a couple of seconds. "is the whip that (y/n) uses gentle?"

"shut up," alexia grumbled.

"no, come on. i saw you staring at her all game. i'm surprised you managed to get a touch on the ball with such a big distraction. you stare at her like an idiot stares at the sun." as if alexia needed an example, mapi turned and stared up at the lights with her mouth wide open.

"i was not staring like that, nor was i saring at all. if anything, i took brief pauses to admire (y/n) after i scored or got an assist. if she's willing to take time out of her busy schedue to support me, the least i can do is score for her," alexia reasoned. mapi thought it was all bullshit; sweet, sappy, romantic bullshit.

"whatever, just make sure she keeps coming if you're gonna play like that when she's here."

"trust me, i will," alexia promised. she wanted you at every single one of her games, club and international. if she made it to another world cup, she wanted you to be waiting for a kiss after they won it.

#woso fanfics #woso x reader #woso imagine #alexia putellas imagine #alexia putellas x reader

464 notes · View notes

d1xonss · 2 days

Note

H EY could you possibly write a fic where the readers been on some heat the whole day just overall pissed, then there’s a fight outbreak in Alexandria and everyone crowding around & people calling Daryl so he comes, just to realise it’s his girl and he has to restrain her, pulling her away so she doesn’t continue beating the shit out of whoever and she’s MAD so he has to calm her down and gets her to just talk to him so he can help her. Just a thought yk 😛

Sticks and Stones

✧ Pairing : Daryl Dixon x Reader

✧ Era : Season 5

✧ Pronouns : she/her

✧ Genre : Fluff

✧ Word Count : 3k

AN ~ I like this idea a lot! Just the thought of Daryl helping her clean up and take care of her after something like this just makes me melt. ps- Sorry for the inactiveness lately, April has already been such a crazy month for me and I've sadly had little to no time to write. But I'll definitely start getting back on track soon. Hope you enjoy!

The weather was hot, sticky, and humid. Your hair was a frizzy mess, sticking up everywhere as you worked in the miserable weather. You were sweating in places you didn’t even think were possible to sweat from. Bottom line was, you were miserable.

The bad mood that was embedded in you only seemed to grow as the day dragged on longer and longer. It was bad enough that your group joined this new community in the first place, having to live with all of these complete strangers after everything you had been through with your family. But what seemed to make it even worse, was this community had some high expectations upon your arrival. The leader, Deanna, made it very clear that she wanted each and every one of you working like dogs in order to do your part just like everyone else.

Meanwhile her sons were sitting in their air conditioned houses without lifting a damn finger.

Though you didn’t mind putting in the work, in fact, that was all you did your whole life. You were never handed a damn thing, needing to learn to find your own way in life and work for everything you got instead of being spoiled rotten. But again, you didn’t mind. The only thing that bugged you was that there were clearly a few favorites that got special treatment. Though you weren’t just talking about Deanna’s sons.

For the past couple of days you had been scheduled to work with a small group of others that you tried to play nice with. And for the most part, they all seemed friendly enough, willing to pitch in and do the part they were told to complete. Everyone…except for this one bitch who seemed to love getting a rise out of you.

You didn’t know her name, you couldn’t be bothered to learn it. But that didn’t mean the urge for punching her in her stupid, fake ass face wasn’t growing the longer you were in the same vicinity. She didn’t do a damn thing other than tell every other person what to do. And she always seemed to make it her mission to get under your skin at least once a day to really add to your sour mood, really wanting to see how far she could push you. But you, of course, always did nothing. It’s not because you weren’t capable of defending yourself, but you knew even one screw up could get you, and possibly the rest of your family kicked out of here.

You didn’t want to take that chance. After all, this whole opportunity and hard work was the chance to prove that you were all worthy to stay within the thick, sturdy walls they had built. You didn’t want to screw it up for yourself, but you especially didn’t want to screw it up for anyone else. Which is why you kept to yourself for the most part, only smiling politely to the ones who showed you even an ounce of kindness as they passed by with a friendly greeting. Other than that your eyes just stayed down, in hopes that somehow the day would go by faster that way.

You and a few others were currently in the large garden that was placed practically directly in the middle of the community, instructed to pick the fruits and vegetables that were ripe enough to bring back to the pantry. The job was simple enough, knowing that when this last basket of yours was full, you would take everything back, wash them off, and place them in the right sections before finally heading back to your new home. You could practically hear the cool shower calling your name from all the way over here.

Though subconsciously, your gaze traveled up a few different times to keep an eye out for Daryl, seeing if he was maybe passing the area. You didn’t necessarily know the job he was given for the day, but what you did know was that it was hot as fuck outside. And seeing Daryl with his arms exposed, the signature leather vest, and sweat glistening off of him…the sight would surely make your day ten times better than how it was going.

But everytime you did a subtle scan, he was nowhere to be found, and you couldn’t help but sigh a bit dramatically as all you wanted was to take him home and use that last bit of energy you had left.

“Hey!”

You were snapped out of your lustful daze suddenly when you heard a familiar voice from the other end of the space, seeing the one blonde bitch who wouldn’t get off your back, her face scowling into a glare.

You raised your arms up from your slightly crouched position, “What?”

“I can see you slacking off from all the way over here, get back to work!” she called with her hands sassily on her hips.

You sent her a bitter smile before ducking your head back down in attempts to pull yourself together, “Oh, I’ll get back to work.” you spoke under your breath, “Work on shoving this foot up your ass.” you grumbled as you began picking a few more ripe strawberries.

A few minutes of peace passed, moving down the line as you scanned for any more things that were ready to be picked off the vine. Your small basket sat by your feet as it was nearly filled to the brim with the amount of fruit you collected over the past hour or so. That is…until it wasn’t.

Out of the corner of your eye you could see someone’s shadow coming from your left as whoever it was seemed to just be passing by. But the sound of their foot coming in contact with the wooden basket right beside you is what caused your gaze to snap up, already knowing who the hell it was. Her blonde hair blowing behind her as she didn’t even stop to look at the mess she made was kind of a dead giveaway.

You shot up to your feet as annoyance began to quickly overtake you, causing you to open your mouth before you even got a chance to think twice. “What the fuck?” you called after her.

She turned around on instinct, as if she was expecting you to say something, a small smirk on her face as she shrugged. “What?”

You pressed your lips together as your annoyance grew, stepping up closer to her so you could keep the conversation quiet, “What the hell is your problem? You don’t think I can tell you’re doing this shit on purpose?”

“Oh I know you can.” she said with a bitchy tilt of her head, her arms coming to cross over her chest, “I’m just wondering when the fuck you’re going to get a clue.”

“Well, why don’t you just spell it out for me, because I’m getting pretty tired of dealing with the same bullshit from you.” you stated bluntly.

She scoffed, “You and your grubby little group don’t belong here.” she spat harshly, “None of you are what we need for this community, in fact, you’re only tearing us down. I don’t even know why Deanna let you people in here in the first place.”

Her words caused your eyebrows to fly up in utter surprise. You expected her to attack you, shoot insults directed toward you. But you never expected in a million years that she would have the audacity to go after your family the way she did with little to no reason at all.

And in the end, that’s what pushed you over the edge as you laughed at her, not needing to come up with a single response as you had a few other things in mind.

Daryl was on the other end of the community, patrolling around the streets when he heard the sudden commotion. At first he couldn’t quite pinpoint what was going down, only seeing a swarm of people flooding toward one area where lots of shouts and panicked voices were coming from. Curiosity eventually got the better of him as his brows furrowed in confusion, his pace picking up as he approached the gardens, opening the white gates to step inside.

His eyes squinted as he could tell there was some sort of fight breaking out, the people surrounding them either cheering them on, or trying to rip them apart. He leaned from side to side, trying to see who was in the middle of it all as he silently prayed he was wrong about what he originally assumed. But then there was a small parting in the crowd, allowing him to catch a glimpse in between them, and his face dropped.

Some random guy was holding you back as you attempted to hit the blonde girl at the other end of the circle they created, clawing out of his grip every so often to get another swing in while she cried. Daryl then didn’t waste another second, harshly shoving his way through the crowd to get to you in attempts to stop you from doing anymore damage. It was almost like he couldn’t get to you fast enough, either that, or you were just quick when it came to nearly tearing her head off.

“Hey!” he shouted once he was close enough, pulling you out of the man’s grasp in attempts to hold you back himself, “Stop!”

You hardly even heard his voice, your ears ringing as you continued to try and pry his hands off of you, desperately trying to swing again as the woman sobbed. Her nose bloody and a bruise forming on her right cheek. She clearly couldn’t fight for shit considering she had such a big mouth.

Daryl groaned as he yanked you back harshly, “Damnit (Y/N), I said stop!” he shouted once more, his voice enough to silence everyone in an instant.

The familiar voice then finally registered with you as well, whipping your head around quickly to see him, smoke nearly coming out of his ears. Your face softened as you instantly came to the realization of the damage you just caused, the potential outcome of your actions suddenly terrifying you.

Your head shook slightly as you tried to speak, “I-”

“Get back to the house.”

His tone was firm, but somehow still held a bit of gentleness. You sighed as you took yourself out of his hold, not needing to be told twice as you slowly began to walk out of the crowded area. Now seeing the amount of people that witnessed your meltdown, you suddenly wanted to crawl into a hole and die, feeling all their watchful eyes on you as Daryl quickly ushered you the rest of the way out. The last thing you barely caught a glimpse of, was a few others crowding around the blonde as she continued to cry her eyes out with her beaten face.

There wasn’t a single word spoken between the two of you. Just silence. And it was killing you.

He didn’t utter a word, only gesturing you into the bathroom for you to sit at the edge of the tub, before pulling out a first aid kid from the closet. Your brows furrowed in confusion as she hadn’t laid a hand on you, but then your eyes traveled down to your own hands, seeing how cut up and bloody they were. The pain hadn’t even registered to you, you hardly felt the sting at all as if your adrenaline was still pumping fast through your system.

Daryl wordlessly kneeled down in front of you, taking your hands with such softness in his touch as he cleaned you up with precision. You could tell he was trying to be as careful as he could, despite the fact that he was probably upset. Hell, the whole group would probably be upset with you for a while, over something that you could now never take back. Something that you could never undo. All because you couldn’t keep your head on straight.

You were forced to think about it even more as the silence only lingered, playing the imagines back over and over again in your mind. You wanted to say it was worth it, to see her actually get somewhat of a taste of her own bitter medicine, knowing now she would probably never fuck with you again. But the fate of the future, what would come next, still weighed heavily on you as it was clearly unknown.

You then sighed softly as you looked down at him, “I…I’m sorry.” your voice spoke barely above a whisper.

He nodded as he kept his eyes down, finishing up your left hand as he wrapped it in some bandages, “I know ya are.”

“You don’t know the things she was saying…what she’s been doing ever since we fucking got here. God…I know I shouldn’t have taken it that far, but that bitch got what she deserves, trust me.” you spoke bitterly, trying to convince yourself more than you were trying to convince him.

Daryl’s eyes then glanced up to you, a small smile on his lips as he nodded again, “I know.”

Your brows furrowed in both confusion and surprise, “You’re…you’re not mad?”

“Why would I be mad?” he asked, his voice a lot more gentle than it was before. But then again you could only assume it was all just the heat of the moment.

You shook your head softly, “I don’t know…” you muttered, glancing down to your hands as you slightly examined them, mostly to avoid his eyes as you knew he would be able to see right through you.

And he did. His brows furrowed as a few seconds of silence passed before he spoke again, “Yeah ya do. You just don’t wanna say it.”

A heavy sigh passed through your lips as you looked back up at him, “I just…I know that doing that was a big mistake.”

His eyes softened as he heard the timidness in your tone, “Everyone makes mistakes, sweetheart.” he said as he raised his hand to tuck some hair behind your ear, “It’s alright.”

“No…that’s not what I mean.” you said with a shake of your head, “I…I fucked up…I fucked up everything. Once Deanna finds out what happened, once she finds out that we can’t work with her people, she’ll kick us out. And then we’ll be back on the road without any food, or water, or anything. We barely made it last time, I-”

“Hey.” Daryl interrupted you softly, raising his hands to gently grip your forearms, “What are ya talkin about? None of that’s gonna happen.”

“But she’s already weary of us, we’re the big, scary outside people. The second she realizes that we won’t be able to fit in here, there’s no way she’ll let us stay.”

The man in front of you couldn’t help but smirk, which at first confused you, but then you found yourself rolling your eyes. “The big, scary outside people?” he repeated with a light chuckle.

You gave him a pointed look, “This is serious.”

“I know, I know.” he assured, “But I also know you’ve been bustin yer ass damn near everyday tryin to prove that you can be trusted here. That we can be trusted here. So…I think right now, you just need to take a second and breathe…okay?”

You stared at him for a moment before swallowing a bit thickly and nodding your head, taking a deep breath in attempts to calm your nerves. It felt like your brain was scattered all over the place and you knew he was right in saying that you just needed to fucking chill out for a second. You still had your worries about the outcome, but for some reason the longer you looked at the man sitting in front of you, the more those thoughts started to disappear.

After a few moments of silence, you felt him gently squeeze your arms again as he hadn’t taken his eyes off of you, “Ya got pretty worked up back there, killer. And I don’t think this stress and worryin is helpin. We’re here for a reason…to have a fighting chance. And you just gotta trust that over time, everythin’s just gonna work itself out…no matter what.”

He was so confident in his words, it made you want to feel confident too. It made you want to believe that this would all pass, and you didn’t completely screw up this opportunity like you assumed. Though there was still something else on your mind.

“But what about the fight? I mean…I messed her up pretty bad.”

He simply shrugged, “Good.”

Your eyebrows raised in slight shock, “What?”

“That bitch got what was coming to her. Truth is, ever since ya told me about what’s been goin on, I’ve been dyin for ya to knock some damn sense into her. If anything, I wanted to cheer you on.” he winked.

You couldn’t help but laugh, “Well, you always have been my biggest supporter…” you trailed off as you looked down toward your hands again, “And the best doctor around.”

He hummed with a small smile before grasping your hands gently, raising them up to his mouth to leave a few kisses on the back of your bandaged knuckles as if to seal the healing process.

You smiled a little to yourself at his actions, “So…you really think we’ll be okay?”

“We’ll be just fine.” he muttered as he placed one final kiss on your skin, “It’ll breeze over, people will move on. Cause I think they all kinda know she was the problem to begin with.”

“God, I hope so.” you scoffed, “And even though I kinda lost it…it felt good.” you admitted almost a bit sheepishly.

He chuckled as he pulled at your hands a little, helping you stand back up to your feet as he did, “Looked pretty good too.” he confirmed as he held you close, placing a kiss on top of your head. “I think you could use some kinda award for doin that.”

You smirked as you looked up at him, “Well…I could use a massage.”

He smiled right back at you as he nodded, “Done.”

~ Thanks for reading!

309 notes · View notes

skbeaumont · 2 days

Text

"You Should Probably Leave" | Joel x Reader oneshot

Part 1 of Play it Again, a new series where each story is a oneshot, but all are shaped around country songs.

Song: You Should Probably Leave – Chris Stapleton Summary: He works long days. You help out with Sarah, make her dinner, put her to bed when he has to stay late. And then when he gets home you help him out, too, even though you both know you should probably leave. Tags/Warnings: MDNI, 18+, smut, porn without plot, prose but kind of poetry/lyrical, sexual tension, PIV, oral (m! receiving), sub!Joel, you're Sarah's babysitter, AU! No outbreak, set in the 90s. Word Count: 1.4k

A/N: I've taken the lyrics and worked them into the story, so I'd really recommend listening as you read. I've been thinking about writing this series for sooo long because country songs + Joel is a match made in heaven. If you've got any song recommendations, let me know!

It’s like a dance, a well-worn routine that you both know, practised and perfected after months of repetitions. You both know where it leads but you’ll still follow all the steps. That’s how it is.

You put Sarah to bed ages ago, spent the last few hours of babysitting on the sofa finishing up some college work, waiting for Joel to get back. His key in the door is a familiar click, the latch sticking the way it always does, his shoulder forcing it open.

You stay where you are. When he comes into the lounge his toolbelt is still strapped around his waist, the remnants of a long day’s work painted across his handsome face and strewn in dust that’s collected on the knees of his well-worn jeans and callused hands.

He pauses in the entrance, arm stretched up above him to rest on the mantle of the door, t-shirt pulling up to reveal a strip of tanned skin above his belt. There’s a glass of wine half-drunk on the coffee table beside you and your feet are tucked up under you.

Neither of you speak for several long moments. You just watch each other, the tension too delicious to break.

“You should probably leave,” He says, but you make no effort to move and he stays where he is, too, dark eyes watching you.

His expression is open, taunting, and you already know what’s going to happen. You untuck your feet and shift them onto the worn carpet, standing to step towards him. His form takes up most of the doorway, his shoulders so broad that they almost touch both sides of the frame.

When you reach it he’s looming over you, blocking the exit off from you if you wanted to leave, but you don’t. You turn into him, press your nose to the slice of skin between his shoulder and neck and inhale deeply, smell the work of his day on him: the musk of sweat, the tang of iron and sharpness of wood shavings.

“I suppose it ain’t all that late,” he says, voice rumbling through his chest, “still time for you to finish your wine.”

You won’t finish the wine, but it’s all part of the well-worn routine the two of you have. He works long days. You help out with Sarah, make her dinner, put her to bed when he has to stay late.

And then when he gets home you help him out, too. Let him relieve some of the tension that he carries in his shoulders, on his thick-set jaw. You press the first kiss here, letting the rough caress of his stubble eat into your own cheek. When you let your hands course through his hair, scratching your nails into his scalp, he leans into it, eyebrows pitching up, something like a whimper falling from his lips.

There’s a devil on your shoulders, and its urging you each towards the same predetermined end.

“We shouldn’t.” He says, but he doesn’t move away.

“Just one kiss?” You ask, feeling him relax into your touch, the bulk of him slipping down the doorframe, bringing his mouth within reach of yours.

“Alright,” He rasps back, his voice pitching with need, and you claim the last syllable with your mouth, press your lips against his, pull a moan from somewhere deep in his chest.

“Say you want me to stay,” You tell him, and he does, whispers it into your mouth, chases your tongue with his.

When he looks at you his gaze so intense it’s almost intimidating, and you recognise the look in his eyes, the need that’s behind the blown-out pupils and hazy expression.

The slow retreat to his bedroom is well-practised, the carpet belying a well-trodden route you both know. He lets you walk him backwards up the stairs, sighs when you push him against the closed door to fit your mouths together again.

Inside, his bed is unmade and you press him into it, pin his hands above his head and lick a thick strip up his neck, following the tendons to the underside of his jaw.

His moans are the chorus of this well-rehearsed dance. They spur you on as you undress him, revealing the strong lines of his chest, the thick trunks of his thighs, the impressive bulge of his cock in his briefs, already half-hard.

He twitches in your hand when you draw him out and you shift down the bed to take him into your mouth, the head of him heavy and salty on your tongue. His cock swells, the vein that spans the underside pulsing against your palm.

It’s intoxicating and dizzying and familiar, the recognisable ache in your jaw as you take him into the back of your throat, fist gripping the part of him that won’t fit.

“So good to me, darlin’” He groans, running shaking fingers through your hair, trying to sit up against the headboard.

“Relax,” you tell him, pushing him back down to lie against the rumpled duvet, “I know what you need.”

You know him and he knows you, and you both know how this goes. You pull back, work your dress up over your head and pull down your panties, which are ruined with your slick, so damp they catch on your thighs as you peel them off. Joel’s eyes widen as he watches; he can never believe you want this – want him – as much as you do.

When you sink down on his length – the fat head of his cock catching at your entrance, making the stretch delicious and white-hot – he squeezes his eyes shut tight.

You run a finger along his eyebrows, coax him to open them and he does, a muscle in his jaw fluttering as you rise up and drag your cunt back down onto him again.

“I wanna do the right thing, baby,” he tells you, as though this – the pinching heat of him between your thighs, the tremble of his hands as he clutches at the flesh of your ass – isn’t the greatest thing that’s ever happened to either of you.

But you know he hates himself for it, hates that he’s a good decade older than you, that you’re Sarah’s babysitter, that this – this twisted arrangement you have where you stay when he gets back and then end up in his bed – is the only thing that gets him through those long works days sometimes.

“I know,” you say, “but it’s getting kind of hard to resist, isn’t it?”

“You should leave,” he says, thrusting up into you, “we should – Jesus, baby, just like that – we should stop.”

You arch up off the bed, tilting your hips so that he can drive his cock deeper, bottoming out and groaning brokenly into your ear. It’s filthy. Depraved, probably: The slap of his hips as he cants them up into yours, the breathy moans that tumble from your mouth, Joel’s desperate, needy curses.

It’s easy to make him come like this: Three steady, deliberate rolls of your hips and he’s a quivering mess beneath you, his hands fisting in the sheets as he spurts hot and wet inside you.

After, you tell him you should probably leave. He makes you come with his fingers first, tells you to finish your wine, that it still ain’t that late.

And when the sun’s on your skin at 6am, he’s there watching you sleep, hoping you’ll say you’ll stay, even though you should probably leave.

#joel miller #joel miller fic #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel x you #the last of us fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #pedro pascal #joel miller fanfic #joel miller au #au! no outbreak #SoundCloud

250 notes · View notes

am-i-the-asshole-official · 2 days

Note

WIBTA if I reported my classmates for potentially breaking traffic laws?

I (17F) am a junior in high school for just juniors and seniors. This means we're in our last two years of school and more or less everyone is 16-18 years old.

In one of my classes, there's 3-4 (I don't know the exact amount since I'm partially faceblind) guys who are all friends. I've only spoken with one of them outside of class, who I'll call Flame, so I don't know their sense of humor or anything.

Whenever I've spoken with Flame outside of class, it's always been because we leave our shared class in the same general direction, and he catches up to me after 2-3 minutes of walking in the halls (crowded). This doesn't happen a lot; I've gone about a month now without speaking a word to him, and it's only happened maybe 10 times in total over the past 3 months?

I was initially alright talking with him, but on my second or so time ever talking to him, he breezily mentioned how he got in a physical fight with a friend and was sent to the hospital for it, but "broke [his friend's] arm so it was fine" and laughed about it. He's also cheerily mentioned and detailed how he ignored his girlfriend for a whole week, causing her to break down over the weekend, because her dad didn't approve of the relationship, and he was hoping she'd "forgive him soon". He's also told me that he was being investigated for a "false claim of sexual assault"?

In all, he scares me, but I try to not let this get in the way of my judgement of him since he's not entirely bad (offered to share his umbrella a few times when it was pouring, seems pretty passionate about sports).

Onto the main point, today in class, I overheard one of Flame's friends suggesting, pretty loudly, that he get a license plate cover (or something like that, I didn't remember the details) so that Flame could get away with speeding too so that he wouldn't be late for work. They laughed about it, and although I didn't catch Flame's response, he seemed pretty positive about the idea? I estimate from what he's told me that Flame has had a license for about a year by now.

I usually wouldn't consider reporting someone for doing something that only affects themselves, but driving is something that impacts others pretty significantly.

However, I'm not entirely sure it was a serious suggestion, if Flame actually plans to do it, nor even if Flame's friend uses the license plate cover. I'm also unsure how much it will impact Flame's future. He's been accepted by a college already and is going to be playing a sport for them, he just needs to pass his current classes to graduate. Notably, he's also southeast asian, and I'm unsure of how bad police officers here are since I'm white and haven't ever interacted with any. I think the government here generally has a slight conservative lean, though there's also a more poc here compared to other places in the US (~50% of people in general, ~75% of people at my school), if that changes anything.

Overall, I don't want to ruin his life over nothing, but I also think speeding could easily ruin someone else's life if he's doing it.

WIBTA if I reported him (and/or his friend(s) if I learn their names) via anonymous tipline for potentially speeding?

#aita #am i the asshole

125 notes · View notes

neversetyoufree · 3 days

Text

I've been thinking lately about Vanitas and Noé's first "what is salvation" fight at the bal masqué and what it means about their individual definitions of the concept, and I've realized something about Vanitas.

Noé's definition of salvation is the obvious one. It feels natural. To save someone is to keep them from dying. But in a way, his understanding of salvation is also almost selfish. Noé's foundational trauma is the constant loss of his loved ones. He is the eternal sole survivor. So of course he wants to keep people alive—he wants to "save" the people he cares about in the way that keeps them by his side this time.

It's not wrong to want that, of course. I don't mean "selfish" as a condemnation. It's just that the definition of salvation that Noé starts the series with is inarguably the one that best serves his own happiness.

And it's the same with Vanitas.

When Vanitas kills the little girl Catherine by restoring her true name, he tells Noé he doesn't know what salvation is. He might be lying there, or he might be telling the truth in that he's never put his definition of salvation into words or acknowledged it on a conscious level. Either way, though, I do think he has a definition of salvation somewhere in his mind, and it's a very personal one.

Vanitas sees salvation as the preservation or restoration of one's true self. You're saved so long as you can preserve your essential self, uncorrupted by outside forces. Even if the price of that selfness is death.

While Noé's foundational trauma that informs his worldview is the loss of his loved ones, one of Vanitas's foundational traumas is the loss of his bodily autonomy. Through Moreau's experiments and Luna's mark/bite, he has been transformed into something no longer fully human, and he hates it. From the moment Luna told him he was dying, he said he wanted to die as himself rather than live as their kin, and he has been denied that opportunity.

Nothing is more important for Vanitas than being able to dictate the destiny of his own body, and malnomen are the ultimate corruption of bodily autonomy and selfness. Altering one's true name warps not only their physical body, but their very being on a metaphysical level. The curse takes everything a vampire is and changes it, and doing that to an unwilling victim is the ultimate horror for Vanitas.

Given that context, of course Vanitas thinks that killing a child to restore her true name counts as saving her. He's restoring her essential self and un-corrupting her body and being, and even if her self is only returned for an instant before she dies, it's preferable to living on as something warped by an outside force.

Vanitas absolutely starts the series with a definition of salvation, and like Noé, it's the one that best serves his own happiness. He wants to be saved. He wants to be returned to his human self, and failing that (since he knows it's impossible), he wants to wipe out all traces of the force that changed him and then die without going any further down the path of inhumanity.

Vanitas might not be able to admit that definition out loud (or even to himself directly), but it's there, and it guides him early in the series as much as Noé's own definition of salvation guides him in turn.

#and perhaps noé will learn to see death as a form of salvation when life is corruption #and perhaps vanitas will learn to see the value of preserving (his own) life #and perhaps they'll both find a definition of salvation that is neither of these things 👀#but that's not the point of this post #anyway this is one of those concepts that I've been orbiting around and maybe gestured toward before #but I don't think I ever quite put it in words or thought about this connection so directly #so here we are #vnc #vanitas no carte #the case study of vanitas #vanitas #vanitas my beloved #english major hours

137 notes · View notes

vincentbriggs · 3 days

Note

Hello! I'm trying to draw something for a friend. Both of our characters live in the late 1720s. They both have regular outfits, but I want to draw them wearing something fancy. My friend has described his character as having a very bad sense of fashion. I can't really picture what a bad outfit back then would look like. Do you?

Hello! Well I haven't got all that much of a feel for what might have been considered a bad outfit back then, but there is one image that immediately comes to mind of someone who's very definitely badly dressed, and it's this guy. From the 4th panel of Hogarth's Marriage A la Mode (1743-45).

His individual garments look fine to me, but they're horribly mismatched! (And a bit old fashioned for the mid 40's.) You'll note that the coat cuffs are made of a large brocade that contrasts with the main body of the coat, which was very popular in the first half of the century, but that style was meant to be worn with a matching waistcoat in the same brocade. Instead he's got a completely plain waistcoat that doesn't match at all.

And the breeches should match the main coat fabric, but his don't! The black and brown and beige clash awfully. He's also got a lot more rings and a much bigger & sparklier earring than I've seen on any other guy from the era, which I speculate might have been tack and/or un-masculine, but I have no sources so don't quote me on that. I just know that when 18th century guys are wearing rings in a portrait it's usually just one, and I've only ever seen simple little hoop earrings in a very few portraits. But again, emphasis on the "speculate" part of that sentence.

(And I've just noticed that the guy next to him has curling papers in his hair, which I think is probably also meant to make him look silly and not properly dressed. No idea what the opinion would have been about the folding fan dangling from the wrist of the next guy over, but it is intriguing. The very large beauty spot on his lip is probably meant to look bad though.)

That painting is a bit later than what you're asking about, but the style of matching cuffs & waistcoat was popular in the 20's too, so here are some examples of what it's supposed to look like. A lot of them are very elaborate brocades paired with a solid dark coloured velvet, but sometimes it's a contrasting plain fabric with a ton of metal embroidery.

(1725)

(1723)

And an extant c. 1730's example from the NMS collection.

You might also look at 1710's images, because being a decade behind the current fashions would certainly make you badly dressed for the era.

(c. 1715-20)

So, I guess just put them in clashing parts of 2 or 3 different matched suits? (I am assuming you're asking about suits, since this ask was sent to me and I do not know very many things about dresses. Mostly only what I absorb from other costumers who post about it, and barely anyone does early 18th century.)

Please note that this does not apply to the 1780's-90's, fashion plates from those decades are incredibly full of clashing and mismatched suits. (Though it would probably still be bad to wear those ones on a very formal occasion.)

#ask #18th century #1720's #fashion

109 notes · View notes

skepsiss · 2 days

Note

I’ve been thinking a lot about Eddie seeing the patches from his old vest onto a new less ruined one after I made that post about his PT—so my prompt for you is Steve helping Eddie resew his new vest (but he’s not really helping he’s just kind of there for kisses and emotional support hehe)

I took a little more into the "actually helping" realm, but it's still fluffy sweet. Other people can send me prrrommmppptts too! --

Eddie had never done something like this with someone else before. Sewing his ripped jeans, bags, and battle-vest had been a solo venture thus far, but it felt strangely intimate to be getting help with his new vest. The old one wasn't salvageable, but Eddie had managed to save some of the patches and pins to start again. This wasn't his first battle vest, and it probably wouldn't be the last, but he had hoped to hang onto his old denim. It wasn't to be though, so Eddie had thrifted a second (or third) hand denim jacket and ripped the sleeves off to start all over again.

"What's this one?" Steve asked, handing over a pin Eddie had gotten from hanging outside a metal show he couldn't get tickets for.

"Bad Brains," Eddie explained, taking the yellow button and running a thumb over the red lightning bolt that streaked across the front. "From New York, I think. I traded for it; no one really plays their stuff on the radio."

Steve nodded like he was going to retain any of that as Eddie debated over where to stick the pin. He settled on the front right pocket and then turned the vest over.

"You want to help sew the back patch?" Eddie asked, grabbing the swath of fabric he had cut from an old band-T. He hadn't been able to get the blood out of his old DIO patch, and while 'the bloody look' was cool, something about it made Eddie squirm. He didn't like that it was Steve's blood, or that the stain had made part of the album art unreadable.

So, DIO was retired, and Eddie instead centred his new Megadeth patch on the back of his vest.

Eddie handed over a needle and thread to Steve and then cut himself his own length. He strung the needle easily and tied it off before setting to work. Steve seemed to be taking his sweet time, and Eddie eventually glanced at him to see what the hold up was.

Steve was still gingerly trying to thread the needle, his brows pinched with frustration.

Eddie snorted lightly before turning the vest around so it was facing Steve.

"Here, you continue my line, and I'll finish this," Eddie teased gently, finding Steve's inability to thread a needle charming.

"Is it too late to say I've never done this before?" Steve asked, picking up the needle and thread Eddie had left behind and stabbing into the fabric.

"I can tell," Eddie chuckled, easily starting to work again. "You don't have to, you know. I don't mind just having some company."

"No, it's alright," Steve said slowly, obviously concentrating as he tried to stick the needle up through the patch. "What're boyfriend for?"

Eddie felt a syrupy smile spread across his face at Steve's words, his stomach tumbling around inside of him. He was still getting used to Steve calling them 'boyfriends' and Eddie couldn't help how giddy it made him each time. Sure, it had been nearly a month, but it still made Eddie feel like he was a blushing fifteen-year-old.

"If you insist… love," Eddie said, keeping his gaze down. He was trying out a new pet-name and he wasn't really sure if it was pushing things a bit too far. Love or My Love was such an intimate title, but Eddie had been thinking of it for a while now. He saw Steve pause at the use of the new nickname though, and waited for him to say something.

"Ow---Jesus," Steve said instead, and Eddie looked up to see him holding his hand up, a ruby-red bead of blood forming on his finger.

"Ah…" Eddie said lamely, smiling still as he reached over for Steve's hand. "Sticking yourself hurts."

"Yeah, thanks for stating the obvious," Steve bitched, letting Eddie take his hand.

"I thought you'd be a bit more durable… you know, with the whole… missing a chunk of your stomach, thing," Eddie teased gently, putting his lips to the wound on Steve's finger much the same way his mother would have when he was a child.

Steve didn't reply to Eddie's comment, instead sitting there quietly and letting Eddie suck on the tip of his finger.

"You want a band-aid?" Eddie asked, pulling back just a bit and then cheekily pressing his tongue against Steve's finger, holding it there with his mouth open.

"Yeah, a band-aid----what are you doing? Don't be weird," Steve chuckled, still not resisting Eddie's grip.

Eddie quirked a brow at him and pulled back, before huffing a laugh.

"Look who you're talking to. Weird is practically stamped on my forehead," he scolded, before licking Steve's finger again for good measure.

"Alright, alright, fair. We get it, Count Dracula, can we grab that band-aid?"

Eddie chuckled again and then scrambled to his feet, trotting off toward the bathroom, but not before turning around and sticking his fingers in front of his lips to replicate fangs.

"I vant---to suck yer ddiiiiccck," he teased, smiling wide when he got an honest belly laugh from Steve.

#my_writing #eddie munson #steddie #steve harrington #stranger things #mini ask fics

81 notes · View notes

puzzled-pegasus · 1 day

Text

Do you ever just think about how awful it is to be a demigod before you know about it?

I've been thinking about it a lot lately. How much demigod kids and teenagers don't fit in with mortal society. Their mortal parents don't know what to do with them, even if they do care for them immensely. They are labeled as troublemakers, as bad kids, as mentally ill, as freaks and monsters who see things they shouldn't see and have an aversion to authority that they shouldn't have and a strong sense of justice and an inability to sit still, read, play, act, feel normally. Percy got in trouble for getting into fights, for speaking impulsively, he was mocked and spoken down to and expelled from lots of schools who couldn't handle him and he didn't know why until he was twelve years old. Sally wasn't able to tell him why.

Annabeth was the product of her father's relationship with a goddess, and he loved her for a while, but she wasn't a normal kid. When he fell in love with a mortal and Annabeth didn't get along with her or her kids, he chose the mortal side. How could he understand Annabeth's side? She was just a badly behaved kid, while his new wife and children were the normal good ones.

Jason always knew he was a demigod, he was accepted and praised and tons of expectations were placed on him from a frighteningly young age. Part of the reason the others resent him and see him as a sort of golden child is because he was placed on a pedestal and he will never, ever know what it was like for all of his friends to be looked down on as children, to be scolded for things they didn't understand and told that the things they saw and experienced constantly were not real.

Piper was always loved by her father but I think he loved the idea of her, he loved that she reminded him of the beautiful woman he met years ago. He was always kind to her and usually gave her things she wanted, but he couldn't always spend time with her as his job got busier. Piper sensed that her father's attention was occupied by something else, and as he got busier, she felt less supported and stole things and got in fights and her dad didn't know what to do with her after the BMW so she was sent to a troubled teen program where she was bullied for her disabilities and her race.

Leo feared his power because it killed the person he loved the most, and after that, everything in his life was hell. He didn't feel safe anywhere, he didn't have anyone he could trust, and adults saw him as a troublemaker who would never amount to anything.

The books don't emphasize these things as much with any of the other demigods, or maybe Annabeth, Percy, Piper, and Leo are the best examples we have. I just. They're so tragic. They're all my children all of them. I love them and I feel so sad for them

#heroes of olympus #percy jackson #pjo hoo #hoo #heroes of olympus headcanon #character analysis #unfiltered thoughts #annabeth chase #piper mclean #leo valdez #jason grace #my CHILDREN

99 notes · View notes

dinogoofymutated · 1 day

Note

Hi there! I'm currently watching the original X men series to catch up to 97, and I'm in love with Gambit.

Would it be possible to ask for Remy and reader to be on a secret mission, and the Ole "make out so they don't suspect us" trope comes in, and gambit kinda (obviously) has feelings...?

It could be sfw or nsfw, either is perfect! Thank you for all that you do, I've been trying to find fics for the xmen for a while 🙏🙏

Kinda spicy! Gambit/GN!reader

YESS!! YESSSS!!! I legit had a dream about this situation with remy the day before you sent me this ask and I was cackling in joy when I saw this! I basically hyperfixated on it because I love this trope.

TWS: sexual themes n shit, no explicit smut. As always, reader written while picturing fem! but no specific pronouns mentioned. Semi-public making out and touching. Nipples be touched but size and type of breast not mentioned.

-Ps- reader can see heat signatures for plot purposes. I usually try to keep powers ambiguous but it was a NEED!

"In here, quick!" Remy's thick draw catches your attention, just before he yanks you into an alley. The two of you were in New Orleans, looking for a specific mutant Xavier wanted to talk to. The only downside was that Remy still had a warrant out for his arrest, and wanted posters plastered all over the city from bourbon Street to the garden district.

"Don't worry Cher. You said. NOPD 'dumber than a sack of rocks, you said!" You gripe at him. Remy laughs, tugging you around the corner. The alleyways on Burbon street are mostly private areas, owned and sealed off by the bars that line the storefronts- but Remy knew this city like the back of his hand. However, things had changed since he was here last. That became apperent when the two of you reach the end of the alleyway and there's a brand new brick wall, a dead end.

Remy curses and skids to a stop, causing you to slam into his back. You send him a dirty look as you whip around, eyes adjusting to the brick surroundings. It's hard to make out the figures of the cops through the walls of the busy bar in in front of you, too many people crowding the street for drinks even this late at night. You strain your eyes a bit, but are able to make out the stiff-shouldered men, heat signature slightly elevated from booking it after the two of you. Unfortunately, they're headed towards the mouth of the alleyway.

"Damnit." You mutter, turning back to Remy. He understands what you mean just by looking at your face. He hums, thinking for a moment before he begins to take out a playing card. You grab his arm to stop him, trying to ignore how warm his skin is against your own.

"Don't. The explosion will just lead them to us." You say. Remy nodds, glancing at the corner before suddenly caging you against the wall of the alleyway. You try not to blush as he does so. Remy smirks at you, and you think your heart might just explode. You remind yourself that this is standard Remy behavior, but it doesn't stop your face from heating up. You can only hope it's too dark for him to see you properly.

"Well, there is another way we could fool those pigs." Remy says, quieter than before. You cock an eyebrow at him before looking back over in the direction of the alleyways opening, able to spot the cops as they begin to enter. In your peripheral, you see Remy running his fingers through his hair to flatten it. You open your mouth to ask him what he has in mind, but the sound of footsteps cut you off.

"-Well, if you're going to do something, you better do it quick!" You whisper back at him. Remy pushes you further against the cold brick, his hands drifting down to your waist as he leans over to wisper in your ear.

"Trust me, Cher. I'll take care of you." His words cause goosebumps to rise at the back of your neck, and you hardly have time to react before he's kissing you. Your eyes are blown wide, heart thumping wildly as you start to slowly relax into the kiss.

Unsurprisingly, Remy is a really, really good kisser. It's hard to focus while he's touching you like this, kissing you deeply like he loves you. He nips at your lip, and you gasp, having forgotten about everything else already. His tongue darts into you mouth, caressing the skin he finds there. You let out a small moan as one of his hands drifts lower, caressing your thigh and hiking your leg up just a bit. Your own hands slowly slide up his chest, drifting to his neck.

The heat in your chest is unbearable when Gambit separates from the kiss, a string of spit connecting your mouths before he wipes it away, nothing but affection on his eyes. You're panting for breath while he kisses the corner of your mouth, then your cheek, and then lower. Remy places wet kisses on your neck, sucking and biting as he tries to swallow you whole. You thread your hands through his soft hair as his does so, fully encouraging him to ravage you in whatever way he would like. One of his hands begins to slide under your shirt when a cough startles you out of your heated state.

Your first instinct is to turn towards the noise, but Gambit is quick to cup your cheek and pull you into another heated kiss before your head could move a centimeter. He keeps you occupied as his other hand fully caresses the skin beneath your shirt, squeezing and caressing your breast. You hear another exhausted sigh from the cops. You crack and eye open slightly, knowing they cant see you do so in the dark. One of them begins to raise his voice, but the other smacks him on the shoulder.

"Just another pair of drunks. We've got bigger things to worry about right now." The cop says. You could practically hear the other roll his eyes before they turn to and walk away. Gambit brings your attention back to him and only him when you feel a finger brush lightly against your nipple. You gasp, and Remy chuckles, playfully biting your lip as he pulls away. He's smirking as he looks at you, and you can only imagine what you look like right now.

"Looks like you enjoyed that." He teases, voice low and husky. You can't seem to pull your thought together properly when he's looking at you like that. You nervously look away, hands playing with his collar.

"And if I did?" You ask, glancing back at him to gage his reaction. He looks surprised at first, face morphing into a lovestruck smile before he tries to cover it up with a smirk. Didn't stop you from being able to see the heat rise to his cheeks, however.

"Then gambit thinks we should do this more often."

#SORRY FOR HIS THIRD PERSON SHIT I CANT STOP MYSELF #also #i miss new orleans #we used to have a close family friend that lived there but she moved and I haven’t been back in a while :(#never been to bourbon street btw I wasn't legal last time i visited and also new orleans drunk is a kind of drunk i do not want to run intk #x men 97 #x men #x men comics #x men 97 x reader #x men headcannons #gambit #remy lebeau #gambit x reader #remy lebeau headcannons #remy lebeau imagine #remy lebeau x reader #x men remy lebeau #gambit imagine #gambit headcanons

108 notes · View notes

marsistired · 2 days

Text

closing shift

jjk choso kamo x gn!reader

choso has feelings for his little brother's babysitter, but it's always too late for him to say the right words.

- word count: 1.3k

- contents: babysitter!reader, fluff, mutual pining between two dummies, not beta read, possible ooc choso?

- notes: hi, hi, hi! i've been off this site for months, but i'm sorta kinda back now? college papers fight hard, but i fight harder. someone asked why i only write nighttime fics, and it's because i only practice creative writing when i'm about to go to sleep LMAO. it's like pillow talking with my brain. anyway, here's a choso fic that gets iffy towards the end since it's been sitting around for so long. <3

the sound of jingling keys brings you out of your daze, and you bring yourself to sit up just far enough to look over the side of the couch to greet whoever is trying to come in. the front door groans and creaks as it's pushed open. almost immediately, air soars in from outside to nip at skin not hidden beneath warm layers. you huff and squint as the cold wind meets your face, nearly causing your eyes to water from the gentle sting.

choso shuffles in quickly to keep too much heat from escaping the apartment. there’s a deep frown engraved into his features as he toes his boots onto the rug and finally closes the door. even though he’s frustrated, choso tries to be as quiet as possible when he sets his keys and tote bag down on the entryway table. the keys clink when they hit the side of the tiny ceramic bowl, and choso visibly winces at the sound. his entire body is tense. shoulders and arms are stiff by his side, and his brow only furrows more when whatever is stressing him out crosses his mind once more.

choso melts when he sees you blearily blinking up at him, though. the muscles holding him taut and upright send him slumping forward as he slowly makes his way over to the couch. “i’m sorry,” he murmurs, guilt preventing him from speaking any louder. “the closer got sent home early, so i had to take over and it got busy out of nowhere…”

you nod and hum along to choso’s rambling to allow him to get everything from the day off his chest. you wished he wouldn’t feel obligated to apologize and justify his actions, especially when things were out of his hands, but getting choso to stop unnecessarily apologizing would be a harder task than getting yuji to keep the “cool” beetles he finds on the playground out of his pockets.

speaking of which…

the tuft of pink hair on your lap jostles around, causing you and choso to turn your attention downwards. the sleeping first-grader mumbles something incoherent and balls his tiny fists tighter in the plush blanket. with a heavy sigh that only a six-year-old could muster from a full day of being a child, yuji flutters back into a deep sleep. exhaustion is much too prevalent in his little limbs to get up and hug his older brother. the sight brings a hint of a smile to choso’s lips because he’s doing one thing right.

you’re telling him about your day with yuji, or, at least, choso thinks that’s what you’re talking to him about. it’s hard to pay attention when he’s trying to calculate the upcoming bills in his head. the numbers look a lot bigger than they truly are since he’s doing mental math with only a few hours of rest and two cups of coffee in his system. it’s just enough stress to send his spine seizing straight and have his shoulders stiffening back to the same position they were when he walked in.

he’s not allowed to get too far in his head since he’s being brought back to the present with a gentle thumb rubbing away at the worry lines between his brow. when his eyes refocus, his heart drops to his stomach from how you’re frowning up at him. choso opens his mouth for another apology, but you’re already speaking before he can get the words out. “i’m going to put him in bed, and when i get back, i expect you to be sitting down and resting.”

the demand is a light one, but choso knows you mean business when the thumb that was so tenderly soothing away his eleven lines presses a little harder than before into the bridge of his nose. he huffs but nods his head anyway.

when you slip around the corner with yuji on your shoulder, choso makes his way to the front of the couch to sit down. his head leans against the very back, and he can’t help but close his eyes for a moment. the sigh of utter relief choso lets out causes all of the air in his lungs to leave him as his muscles fully relax for the first time since he woke up this morning to take yuji to school. he should get up and get changed into something that isn’t his work attire, but the cushions are just so comfortable, and his feet are finally not on the hard floor, and…

it’s not long before the next thing choso knows is the pleasant feeling of hands massaging his scalp. his hair that was previously pulled up is now resting loosely against the couch and being combed through softly. choso opens his eyes to see you intently focusing on getting a tiny knot out, and all of his breath seems to leave his body for the second time that night. you silently cheer when you decide that choso’s hair has been finger-brushed thoroughly, but instantly turn sheepish when you notice brown eyes staring back at you.

“sorry, didn’t mean to wake you,” you laugh shyly, moving your hands back down to your sides to act as though you weren’t just playing with hair that certainly did not belong to you. “no, no, i really don’t mind,” he urges out, offering a smile to try and ease your embarrassment.

fortunately for him, choso can ignore the heat quickly inching up his neck from the ghost of your touch when he meets your gaze once more. he sits up in an instant, nearly busting your nose from where you were above him. you rear away from the couch and watch with curiosity and a little concern as choso pats wildly at his pockets. “cho, what? what is it?” you ask, looking all over to try and see what was causing his antics.

choso turns his pockets inside out, and when they come up empty, he turns around to give you the worst case of puppy dog eyes. “stop letting me forget to pay you,” he chides, “thank you for watching out, and being so patient with me, but this is your job-”

“it’s more of a side hustle for yuji than me. he is the one getting treats and piggyback rides, after all,” you snort. choso looks unimpressed with your attempt to slip away from the conversation, but he does soften when you run your hands through his hair to get him to lay back down. the words building on his tongue fall flat as his head hits the armrest, so choso relents his scolding for the night in favor of you smiling down at him.

choso can hear you fishing the keys out of your pocket as you bend over to brush a black strand from his eyes. he wishes for his mouth to work to say something, anything to get you to stay for a few minutes longer, but the only noise that comes out is a quiet hum of acknowledgment. though, he will take the tiny win of you looking pleased, even if it is just because he’s finally settling down for the night.

as you straighten up to begin tiptoeing your way to the door, choso steals a last glance of you slipping out to get to your car. the whole ‘pining’ thing for his little brother’s babysitter leaves an ache in his chest after you’re already driving back to your own apartment, but the heat on his cheeks from your ever-lingering presence dulls it just enough for sleep to pull him under.

the chime from choso’s phone goes unnoticed as snores fill up the living room.

coffee with me when you wake up? :)

#jujutsu kaisen #jjk x reader #jjk choso #choso kamo #choso x reader #choso x you #choso x y/n #choso fluff #gender neutral reader

61 notes · View notes

half-oz-eddie · 2 days

Text

The Straightest Guy In Hawkins

(Internalized) homophobia tw

"I'm gonna fuck so many bitches this summer." Billy bragged, as he lied on Steve's bed, tossing his baseball into the air.

"Uh huh..." Steve passively responded, continuing to work on their project.

"So many hot babes with big tits and—"

"Couldja shut up and help me with this project? God, You've been pissing me off lately."

"What'd you say? I'm pissing you off?!" Billy sprang up.

"Yeah. Ever since we went to your house to work on this stupid project and I saw that magazine, you've been going overboard to try and prove to me that you're super straight, the straightest guy in Hawkins." Steve rolled his eyes. "Y'know what? I don't care if you're straight, not straight, doesn't matter."

"Well I am straight." Billy pointlessly insisted.

"Good for you! I'm not, and I don't give a shit."

"You're...not?" Billy questioned in disbelief.

"No."

Billy chuckled in response. "Does daddy Harrington know you're a fa—"

"No!" Steve exclaimed. "He doesn't. And if I told him, I don't think he'd care. I don't think my parents even see me half the time, alright? So-so just drop it. Like I said, I don't give a shit if you like guys or girls or both or neither. I just wanna get this project done. We have 3 more days and a lot to do."

Silence filled the room. An uncomfortable, lonely silence. Billy froze. He wanted to speak up, be honest with Steve, but he knew being honest with Steve would lead to his haunting crush on him surfacing again.

"I'm...not." He blurted out. "I'm gay, actually."

Steve set down his pencil and turned his attention to Billy. "Does your dad know you're a—"

"No." He fearfully shook his head. "He'd kill me. Like...actually murder me. He already thinks I'm a failure. If he found out I was a gay failure, he'd probably beat me until I stopped moving."

"So...am I the only person who knows?"

Billy shrugged. "Aside from the 2 guys I've hooked up with."

"In Hawkins?"

"Nah, you're the only other queer I've met around here."

"There're others, trust me. You have options."

The silence returned again. Steve could sense that something was still troubling Billy.

"What is it? You worried I'll tell?"

"Not really...forget it. Let's finish the project."

"C'mon. Talk to me. You've already told me your deepest darkest secret, what could be worse than that?"

"The fact that there's...someone I like. But I can't see them because it runs the risk of my dad finding out."

"Who is it? I'll tell you if he's queer or not."

Billy gently shook his head.

"Is it Eddie? He's definitely queer, I know for a fact—"

"What?! No! ...Wait, you hooked up with Munson?" Billy wondered, shielding his jealousy.

"I—no, we...we kissed once at a party, during a drinking game, but there was tongue, and he was totally into it, so I'm pretty sure—"

"It's..." Billy sighed. "It's not him."

"Is it Jason?" Steve chuckled. "God, I hope not. That guy's probably straighter than you could ever pretend to be—"

"Not him either." Billy snapped. "Let's just finish the project, okay? I'm sorry for...pissing you off, or whatever."

Billy joined Steve at the table where they focused on nothing but the project.

"So I think...we just need to put a little more information in this paragraph so it's longer, and then we'll be done. Then we can type it up."

"Lemme see."

When Billy absentmindedly reached for the paper, his hand accidentally touched Steve's and he sharply pulled away.

"Sorry." He apologized.

Steve narrowed his eyes. "That's the second time you apologized to me."

"And?"

"And. You never apologize. What's up?"

Billy shook his head. "I'dunno what you're talkin' about."

"Billy—"

"Can it, Harrington. I'm trying to read this."

"You're not even looking at it!"

Billy slammed the paper down and stood suddenly, knocking the chair to the floor. "I'm going home."

"What?! You can't just leave, we didn't—"

"I'm tired of you questioning me. Now you're pissing me off."

Steve picked up the chair, watching disappointedly as Billy grabbed his jacket.

"I didn't mean to piss you off. I shouldn't have been pushing you so much about a touchy subject in the first place. It's my fault."

"It isn't."

"Huh?"

"I said it isn't!" Billy snapped. "See you tomorrow."

Steve slumped in his seat when he heard Billy's camaro skirt out of the driveway. Even though he apologized, he still wished he could do more for Billy.

The following day, Billy didn't even show up for school. Steve worried Billy was avoiding him completely, and began to worry about their incomplete project.

When he arrived home, Billy was already there, smoking a cigarette on his porch.

"Hope you're not ashing in my mom's rose bush." He said with a smile.

"Wouldn't dream of tainting Mrs. Harrington's precious roses." Billy sneered.

"Missed you at school today—well, I didn't mean like, I missed you, but—you were...you were missing."

"Had some shit on my mind, so I ditched today."

Steve opened his mouth to ask, but he knew that wouldn't be a smart idea. He'd probably just chase Billy off again.

"Ready to finish this project, then?"

Billy tossed his cigarette into the street. "Yeah, let's get it over with."

They finished the project in 40 minutes and Steve offered Billy a beer to celebrate.

"Think we're gonna get an A?"

"Pretty sure. We followed all the instructions to a T."

"Yeah. Yeah we did." Steve agreed.

"About yesterday, I'm—"

"No. Don't even bother trying to apologize. I'm the one who should be sorry."

"Oh yeah? For what?"

"I kept prodding into your business. I pushed you. I didn't mean to."

Billy shrugged. "'Kay, whatever."

"So, you accept my apology?"

"Will you cry if I don't?"

"Maybe." Steve answered with a pout.

Billy smiled. Not cynically, not mischievously, just...a smile. A pretty one, at that.

"Hey, listen. You wanna, like...hang out? Grab dinner, go to the movies, whatever?"

"You buying?"

"If I buy, it's a date."

"Then no." Billy declined. "Not interested."

"Not interested in a date?" Steve paused. "Or not interested in me?"

Billy leaned in, the once cute smile turning mischievous. "What makes you think you could pull a guy like me?"

Steve leaned in, but far closer. He licked his lips and smirked. "Wishful thinking, I guess." He half shrugged. "Hoping the guy you like could be me."

Billy bit his lip, his smile widening. He pulled Steve in by his collar and kissed him.

It was chaste and no words followed, but it spoke loudly enough to answer Steve's question.

"Pick me up tomorrow at 8. And don't let on that we're like...y'know. I don't need my dad to suspect anything."

"Don't worry. It'll be our little secret."

Steve stole another chaste kiss before Billy pulled away, leaving him hoping for more.

#harringrove #billy hargrove #steve harrington #harringrove fanfiction #ivy.doc

63 notes · View notes

misskingshit · 2 days

Text

𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘵 summary: where he has an interest in a certain pop singer, and he doesn't try to hide it. note: believe me or not i’ve been listening hip hop since Im like 15 y/o, soooo why not do an M&M’s fic?? Let me know if u want part 2! xoxo

The lyrics of Mr Eminem's new song being mostly about you? That was something you definitely didn't expect.

I get so weak on my knees

Lose all control

Damn, her silhouette

So hot

Fuck bein’ a gentleman

I'm going to fuck her instead

The red carpet at the Grammys has always been a dream for you, you had already won a couple of awards, today... you were excited to be the presenter of one of them.

Best Rap Album.

To say you were excited is an understatement.

You've loved this genre of music since you were a teenager, Tupac, Fifty, Snoop...to name the most classics.

The camera flashes were the only thing you saw, accompanied by many voices that stunned your ears just by hearing your name.

"Y/N! over here!" A reporter called you, without hesitation, you approached.

"Hey how are you?" you asked with a big smile.

"Incredible! How are you? I imagine you're very excited for tonight" he smiles.

"Don't even mention it! I can't wait to call the winner on stage!"

"Do you think Eminem is nominated? He's been on everyone's mouth lately with his latest song..."

Here we go.

"Yeah... well, I'm sure he'll be nominated, I mean, he's fucking Eminem, it would be like a sin if he wasn't, right?" You laughed a little awkwardly.

"What do you think about his last song, about his comments towards you? 50% of people are upset calling Eminem a degenerate..." you didn't let him finish speaking.

"Well...I really like him, I mean, I've always been his fan and it's an honor to be named in one of his songs. Plus I also think that...we all know how he's like, if you don't like his way to be, to think, to speak, the lyrics of his songs, just don't listen to it and that's it, problem solved, I don’t see the point in hating so much on something you can just...ignore" you laugh looking at the camera "Just take things more lightly, not everything is fighting and bad intentions."

You finished your conversation with said reporter and simply headed to your designated seat.

On the other hand, a certain blonde boy was also being attacked with questions regarding his controversial lyrics.

"She's here? Shit, I want to see her," the blonde rapper said, showing a small, very small, smile, turning his head around with the intention of catching some sign of the hot pop singer, you.

"Yes! In fact she will be the one to present the award for best rap album!"

"No shit! Damn man she's here" Em turned around and said to his best friend, Proof.

In a few minutes everyone finished settling into their seats and you both were surprised when you looked at each other, just a few seats away.

You were five seats to the right and three to the back, so you caught him every time he turned his head back a little to look and smile at you.

Until, soon...your moment had arrived, you got up from your seat to head backstage.

By the way, when you walked past the rapper, he didn't try to hide the fact that he couldn't take his eyes off you for even a second.

"And the Grammy goes to..." you created some tension "EMINEN!" You blurted out the name more excited than you should have.

The rapper's reaction might not have been very expressive normally, but he couldn't contain his smile when he knew who would be the one giving to him his award. The rapper and his friends got on stage and it was inevitable that you felt nervous as you watched him walk towards you, with a playful look, as if he knew what he generated in you.

"Congratulations," you whispered when he was close enough to you, taking the grammy as you felt the soft brush of his fingers against yours, he did it on purpose.

You didn't expect him to give you a hug.

"That's all I get?" He whispered back to you, keeping your faces close and your noses touching, his hands on your waist pulling you closer to him as if he didn't want to move away from you.

A great bustle from the public was heard, and it took them both out of the small cloud in which they were.

This was definitely going to stir the waters.

You both walked away, while you greeted and congratulated the rest of his friends (Proof winking at you in the process).

"Wow, shit, this is crazy, thank you so much to everyone who made the production of this album possible, Dr Dre, who always had my back, I will be forever grateful...and my god, damn, thanks to whoever the fuck is that put this beauty in that dress..." he turned to look at you and winked "Y/N Y/L/N ladies and gentlemen, the source of my inspiration for Heat Seeker"

Obviously, you blushed.

The entire audience was applauding, probably already starting to gossip among themselves about the little show between you and Eminem.

Like a gentleman he offered you his hand as he watched you walk down the steps of the stage with great caution. "Thank you," you whispered. “Any time” he smiles at you.

´Til the end of the awards you continued to connect glances from time to time, you also noticed how his friends bothered him every time he turned his head to look at you.

"Hey, Y/N! wait!" listen to yourself behind your back. "Hey," you looked at him softly, "whats up?" He shook his head quickly. "I just wanted to…I mean, normally I wouldn't give a shit, but, I wanted to make sure that the song didn't offend you, it wasn't to upset you…" You interrupted his attempt to apologies "Don't worry, I understand it was just the song, I didn't take it personally, actually, I loved it" you laughed. "You did? I'm glad you're not like the rest and laugh instead of being offended." His attempt to hide his smile failed completely.

It just slips away from him.

Just with you.

A few seconds of silence took over the situation, though it wasn't uncomfortable, your eyes connected and you didn't seem to realize that you had been staring at each other. "Uhm, I was about to go to my hotel," you pointed behind you, "I was gonna change for the afterparty."

"Can I go with you?" He asked you, but before you processed the fact that he wanted to go with you to your hotel, he interrupted your thoughts "I mean, just so then we can go to the party together, if you want" he scratched the back of his neck.

You didn't even need to think about it "Yeah, I would like that" you smiled.

The two of you walked together towards your limo, captured by several cameras, so neither of you doubted that tomorrow you would wake up to a bunch of articles about how Eminem and Y/N left the Grammy's together. But none of you care about it.

#eminem x reader #marshall mathers x reader #eminem fluff #marshall mathers fluff #eminem imagine #marshall mathers imagine #eminem fanfiction #marshall mathers fanfiction #fluff #shay's requests

55 notes · View notes

katyaromanoffpetrova · 10 hours

Text

Spicy cake

Katya finds a new way to communicate her needs.

• Natasha Romanoff x Fem!OC • Wordcount: 1.4k • Warnings: suggestive talk (this is a given at this point) Do not repost my work as your own or translate my work!! Masterlist

A/N: I owe this whole idea to @nataliasquote <3 ty girl

2028

Listen, Katya in the kitchen wasn't anything new. She cooked dinner three days of the week, and sometimes she liked to bake simple cakes or cookies, the ones from those boxes.

But she'd been in the kitchen, mixing and rummaging, for the past two hours, and Natasha was starting to get confused. No cake or cookie would take that long to make. Not even including prep and baking time.

On top of that, an unfamiliar smell filled up the house. It was cake, but a special kind of cake. Flavored? It had a hint of strawberries.

Now, it could be that Natasha's senses were still confused from the cake tasting they'd done just this morning. Four hours of trying different flavors and textures of cake to decide which one they should serve their wedding guests. Her tongue was still confused.

Initially, she simply wanted to pick a flavor from the menu and tell the bakery to go with it, but Katya had pouted like a little kid who was robbed of going to the candy store. So they went cake tasting. Whatever makes the wife happiest.

Would Clint and Tony make fun of her for agreeing to go with Katya's choice and have a white chocolate cake with raspberry cream? Probably. It screamed, "my wife picked this and I went along with it because I'm a simp for her, and I couldn't care less about the flavor of the cake, and white chocolate is way too sweet for my taste". But Katya left the bakery with the biggest smile on her face, and that's all that mattered.

Blinking the sleep from her mid-day nap from her eyes, Natasha wandered down the stairs, curiously creeping up to the kitchen. The smell was even stronger here, seducing her into following her nose towards the source. She couldn't deny it, it smelled great, her mouth watering despite the abundance of cake currently being processed in her stomach.

"What are you—"

A towel flew through the kitchen. One second, Natasha saw everything, the next, her vision was black. The smell of wet cotton filled her nose, filtering the one of freshly baked cake, much to her disappointment. Katya had thrown the towel with such precision and skill that it covered her face and stayed there, like a makeshift ghost costume.

"Don't look! It's a surprise."

Natasha felt like a complete idiot, standing there in the door opening with that thing on her head, but she didn't fight it. "What are you doing in there?"

"Making a cake for you."

Even blind, she knew what expression her wife was making based on the tone of her voice. Giddy, adorable excitement, the most endearing, bright smile on her face.

Natasha furrowed her brows, her heart swelling. "For me?" It wasn't her birthday, and she didn't accomplish anything exciting lately.

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Just because." Katya beamed. There was some clattering, a few silent footsteps on the ground. Natasha sensed her body as it moved around the space.

"How can you even still think about cake after this morning?" She teased lightly.

It was meant to be a joke, one Katya would respond to with something witty or sarcastic, but Natasha's question was met with a pause that was a bit too long instead. Slowly, the smile faded from her lips.

"Should I have made something else?" Katya asked softly.

"No!" Natasha exclaimed in a hurry. She nearly tore the towel off her head to show Katya exactly how soft and grateful her eyes were. Even if she was literally puking from eating too much cake earlier, she'd still thank her wife for being so sweet. "No, baby, I love it."

"Okay." The enthusiasm returned to Katya's voice, to Natasha's great relief. "Give me ten more minutes and I'll be done. Then I'll show you what I've been working on."

"Okay."

Doing a 180-degree turn in her spot, Natasha pulled the towel from her head. Oxygen-rich air filled her lungs as she walked to the living room, plopping on the couch with her phone. She had to fight off a thoughtful frown as she scrolled away and liked some posts on her Katya fan account.

Something in her gut told her that she should be suspicious. Katya baking a cake wasn't weird, but Katya baking a cake after the cake tasting this morning was weird, and Katya hiding said cake was even weirder. Usually, she was happy to indulge her family in their curiosity.

Natasha was knee-deep into another Katya fan account, and just about to zoom in on a bikini picture of her, when Katya's voice rang out.

"You can come back!"

Cautiously, she locked her phone and returned to the kitchen. Katya shielded her masterpiece with her body, a huge grin on her face as she waited for Natasha to be ready. Ready for something mysteriously. Her enthusiasm would be more endearing if Natasha was less suspicious.

"Tada!"

The cake revealed itself when Katya stepped aside. Natasha narrowed her eyes at it, taking a few steps closer to see it better.

Heart-shaped, it was at least ten inches tall and covered in pink buttercream. No fancy decorations, no other colors. Just a pink heart. Simple, classic, sleek

Oh, and two words on top.

'BANG ME'

Natasha just managed to keep her face straight, but it caught her off guard so badly she nearly choked on her own spit. Her heart skipped a few beats as she composed herself, putting on a nonchalant demeanor.

"Okay."

Surprised, Katya perked up. "Okay?"

"Okay. I'll bang you," Natasha said casually, shrugging her shoulders.

Katya's cheeks turned a light shade of pink, her previous confidence faltering because of her wife's casual use of vulgar talk. "Nat."

"Is it not what you wanted?" Natasha asked, slowly backing the brunette up against the counter. "It's a very clear suggestion. Very on the nose."

"You want me on your nose?" Katya feigned stupidity.

"I-" Natasha closed her mouth and shook her head with disappointment, much to Katya's amusement. The woman's blue eyes sparkled with mischief, a sly smile exposing her teeth. It was hard not to roll her eyes at it. "I love your writing," she commented, looking at the cake over Katya's shoulder. It was the worst example of capital block letters ever. Any six-year-old could do it better on paper.

Katya frowned in offense. "Don't shame my writing. It was my first time using a smaller piping bag."

"I can see that."

The frown deepened. "It was between, 'Bang me', and, 'I love your tits'. I went with this one."

"Amazing choice, baby," Natasha said dryly, running her hands from Katya's hips up to her waist, sliding them under her shirt. "I'm honored that you felt a need to declare your love for my boobs on a cake."

"Maybe I can do that next time." Katya abruptly perked up. "Oh! I can make the cake in the shape of actual boobs!" She was so excited about that prospect that she looked ready to make that cake right now.

Natasha chuckled lowly, giving her waist a playful squeeze. "How about you work on some actual, actual boobs right now?"

Katya froze. Her gaze flickered to Natasha's boobs and lingered there, a shimmer of lust mixing into her enthusiasm. "Actually?"

"Actually."

The prospect made her mouth water, yet her joy faltered a bit as she looked back up at Natasha's face. "What about my cake?"

The redhead smirked, pressing Katya further into the kitchen island with her hips. "Oh, I'll eat your cake."

Bonus:

Brooklyn perked up as she followed Maya into the house, kicking her shoes off by the door. "It smells so good in here!"

"My mom must have baked something." Maya smiled, always happy to try one of Katya's masterpieces. Stress-baking has made a good baker out of her.

Without waiting for her girlfriend, Brooklyn hurried into the kitchen, following the aroma that drifted into her nose. She spotted it instantly. "A cake!"

"What ki—" The girls stopped in their tracks, side by side as they read the words once, then twice, then another time to make sure they said what they said.

Slowly, Maya's face turned red. And even Brooklyn, who usually didn't get flustered easily, started to pale. They were both familiar with the Russians' shenanigans, but they hadn't stumbled upon something so embarrassing yet.

"We're never talking about this again," Maya muttered, dragging her girlfriend out of there.

#katandnat #katyaromanoffpetrova #forgotten ghost series #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x fem!oc #natasha romanoff fanfiction #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanov #black widow #marvel #mcu #natasha romanoff fluff

45 notes · View notes

nondualiber · 16 hours

Text

guys, guys, gUYS. SUCCESS STORY THERE!!

first of all, this happened like a week ago or something. okay, so, i'm going to keep this short. i was in some sort of "manifesting block", i was OVER complicating things, my mindset sucked, blah blah blah blah. that's essentially the reason i wasn't posting (and will continue to not be, probably); because i was focusing on my life and actually manifesting new stuff.

warning; kind of long post ahead, talking about how i did it my journey blah blah blah. if you want to see the success story directly js go right to the bottom

first, a bit of background; i have manifested things in the past, but mym indset was always shitty. when i archieved my manifestations i would say it was a coincidence, i was obsessed with the 3d, and what i'm saying has been going on for *years*. for the past 6 months i was in this vicious circle where i'd try a method full of hope, then eventually lose confidence because of some negative beliefs and give up in three days. i'd have a one week meltdown, then search for a brand new method, and repeat. clearly, i didn't manifest anything lately. and i didn't know what i was "doing wrong" because i had manifested lots of things in the past, but i didn't know how nor how could i do it now.

okay, so. like a week ago, when i was in a terrible mood, i decided to stop using tumblr to see information and talked to this bot on character.ai, that assesored me a lot on my mindset. it suggested me lots of things: since i had 0 trust in the law, start to manifest little things i didn't care that much about so i had "proof", actually stop caring, etc. (i really recommend that bot if ur struggling with the law) but the most important thing, it challenged me to try a new "method" i had heard of before, but because of my shitty mindset, i didn't try because i thought it wouldn't work or that it was "too good to be true" or whatever. the method was literally just keep going with my day knowing that i already had it. and oh my f*cking god.

i won't say it just "clicked" for me because i hear that a lot & i things that's just not how it works. at least i can't "click" with something i don't know. what i can say is that at first it wasn't easy, i still had some doubts, not gonna lie, but i just ignored them and keep going knowing that i already had it. i got used to it really fast, and THAT'S how i knew this was the way, because i felt liberated. if you read my blog you'll probably know i talk about that all the time, but my idea of manifesting is that it has to feel liberating, not like a chore, a price to your desires or anything else. i was liberated, because i knew it was done, that i had nothing to give in exchange, that i was free of the 3d & its circumstances. i was Me, and I was free.

this was the best thing i've ever done in my journey. in only one week, i've successfuly manifested:

money: (me and my family are kind of wealthy tbh, but i am bratty asf & always want more money to buy me things 😜😜) my mother recieved 200000 pesos (my country's currency) out of literally thin air on her bank account a random tuesday. she doesn't know who send it or why. i don't know about the u.s.a since there 200000 pesos are 200 dollars, but in our country, that's a LOT of money.

self confidence: i've been feeling super insecure lately. like, i am insecure since i have memory, but since this year started it has become WAY worse. i'd literally cry almost every night. now, i def wouldn't say it's all gone, but it's gotten much better. i've been feeling pretty lately, and if i didn't felt pretty, i would hardly think about my appearence at all this days. i am constantly feeling like i have one less weight on my back, which i am gratefull for :)

discipline: ngl i am forever a lazy girl and a foodie. I have always wanted to be more productive - study more, exercise more, talk to my loved ones more often and eat healthier, but discipline is something i struggle with a lot. however, since i have shown better discipline i have had some of the most useful days of my life: i went out with my friends three times in one week, ate much better than i usually do, exercised EVERY DAY without fail (even while on my period) slept well and passed all four exams this week with an 85/100 on my worst one and two 100s.

reciving a compliment in public: since i tried to start manifesting things that seem "easier" for me to acomplish, i tried manifesting this because it was rare but not impossible. so, like 3 days after i started to embody the state of someone who's always complimented by strangers, i went to the sjopping centre with my friend. then, two guys walked by us and one of them said "i want the instagram of that lady"! notice that during the whole time i was in the state, i visualized that people were asking me for my instagram + i've noted that when i'm in public, i catched people's eye more. yesterday, a guy won't stop looking at me in the café and i think he tried to approach me :)

i'll keep escalating on the "level of difficulty" of the things i manifest as my mentality becomes accustomed to the fact that everything is equally easy to manifest -which is a fact already, i just have a hard time accepting it-, and, of course, i'll be updating ;)

conclusion; look for what works for you. for what makes you feel good & secure that you have already what you want. search a "key" that makes you (actually) not give a f*ck about the 3d, if you have negative beliefs, don't ignore them. work from them, and of course, persist! let your mindset keep you on track.

that was all for today, love ya ♡

#4d reality #affirm and persist #it girl #law of assumption #law of attraction #loablr #manifesation #manifesting #neville goddard #shifting #loa blog #loassumption #loa tumblr #success story #mindset #manifestation #manifesting money

32 notes · View notes