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cumikering · 3 days

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Ghost x plus-sized reader

2.1k | fluff, drink spiking Did you just call Simon weak? The rest of the 141 didn’t like that

“Can I carry you?”

At the pub table, you almost spat the last gulp of your drink at the question. You turned to the source of the gruff voice, meeting the man’s chest before craning your neck up to his eyes. He had to be over 6 ft tall.

You set your glass down. “I’m sorry?”

“My mates are betting I can’t get anyone to piggyback.”

“And you picked me?”

He nodded at your top. “Skulls are sort of my lucky charm.”

You scoffed, looking past him at the other ladies in the room. “Are you serious? There are plenty who weigh far less.”

His brow rose. “Are you calling me weak?”

You took in the width of his shoulders, how his loose black shirt couldn’t hide the thickness of his biceps – the left one inked. He was handsome, rugged with the scar across his cheek, his short blond hair and light scruff, but his stare and bluntness made him beyond intimidating.

How could you get out of this situation with the least fuss?

“N- no.”

His eyes softened a touch. “May I? Please?”

Playing along and getting it over with should be the safest bet. “Okay... But-”

He turned his back and squatted slightly. “Hop on.”

“Wait- are you sure you can?”

“Hop on,” he repeated.

At that point, it was not your fault anymore if he ended up embarrassing himself. So you gripped his hard shoulders and did as told before he swiftly hooked his large hands under your jean-clad thighs. He didn’t grunt or strain when he bounced you to position and straightened up. As if you weighed nothing, which was a feeling you never thought you’d experience.

You had to give it to him - his strength was impressive. You chuckled to yourself, seeing the top of everyone’s head amused you. Across the pub, the table of three men grinned at the massive stranger. The one with the mohawk was very much entertained as he gave him thumbs up.

It was then that Simon groaned, because his team was embarrassing the hell out of him. That, and he finally got to feel how soft and warm you were pressed up against him. A little creepy, but a man was allowed to fantasise about a birdie he’d been eyeing, right?

“That’s all, yeah? You just have to carry-”

He stepped towards the bar, making you latch onto him.

“Oh! Where are you going?

“I’m getting you a drink.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Please, I insist.” When he flagged the barman down, you held on tighter. “It’s the least I can offer for getting you involved.”

You laughed, your breath warm against his ear. “Are you going to set me down or am I having my drink on your back?”

“Don’t give me ideas.” He chuckled as he lowered you to your feet.

He leaned against the bar, arm folded as he stared at you on the stool, downing your shot before looking at yourself on your selfie cam.

“Would you… like something as well?” you asked after you tucked your phone back in your pocket.

He shook his head.

“Okay. Well, thanks for he drink. You could get back to your mates if you want.”

“I’m Simon,” he mustered instead.

“Hi.” You shifted in your seat. “Is something the matter?”

“No.” He frowned. “Why are you asking?”

“It’s just you’ve been staring, and there’s nothing on my face. I checked.”

Bloody hell, could he be any more awkward? He just wanted to ask why you were alone without being weird about it.

He looked away. “I didn’t mean to.” You make me stupid. It didn’t help that your previous drink had tinted your lips, looking even more kissable up close.

“I think your mates want you back though.” You chuckled, nodding at his table.

When he turned to them, they immediately busied themselves with their drinks, averting their gazes.

“They’re a nosy bunch, they are.” He inched closer to you. “The one in the beanie, that’s our captain. The other two are my sergeants.”

“You’re the lieutenant?”

He hummed. “The one with the mohawk is the prankster. He’s a bad influence. He’ll talk you into doing anything.”

“He put you up to this then?”

He shrugged, a small smile playing on his lips.

As if on cue, Soap looked up with an uncontained grin, only to look back down when he realised eyes were on him.

”Seems like he can’t wait to say hi.” He swiftly picked you up off your seat, bridal-style. “Is this enough to show you weigh nothin’?” he asked, fighting the urge to grab a handful of your soft thigh and waist.

“Oh- oh dear!” You laughed, arm wrapping around his neck, pretty fingers grasping his bicep. “Wait, wait, put me down!”

When you were back on your feet, you pulled your phone out of your pocket. “Sorry, I’m actually meeting someone. He’s almost here.”

So that was why you were alone. You were waiting for someone. Disappointment anchored at the bottom of his chest.

“Right. Okay.”

You smiled. “Thanks for the drink, Simon. I’ll see you around, yeah?”

He grunted and you headed to the end of the bar. He stood umoving for another second before retreating to his table like a kicked puppy.

“L.T., wha’ happened? She was havin’ so much fun!” Soap shot as soon as Simon took his seat next to him.

“She’s meetin’ someone,” he said quietly.

“Aww… Sorry, Ghost,” Gaz said. “But hey, she let you carry her!”

With your back to him, you looked at your phone whenever a man walked in.

Huh, first date?

You flagged down some other blond man who walked over to you with a smile. The barman took your order before you chatted with him with a polite smile, keeping a respectable distance between the two of you.

Simon was in no place to watch and invade your privacy – he really should look away. But what was it that simmered in him when the bloke scooted closer, his arm along the back of your chair?

He laughed, pointing at something on the TV. You looked up, and your hand deftly covered your drink, like an instinct.

He smirked. Smart girl.

“I know she’s with someone, but I can tell she likes you more,” Price said, and Simon finally tore his gaze away from you.

“Ye should fight ‘im, L.T. He dinnae stand a fuckin’ chance.”

“You can knock him out with a slap,” Gaz quipped.

He chuckled, blatantly looking over Price to you again. “Rather just look.” While it wasn’t for him, at least he could watch your pretty smile from here and quench his thirst a bit.

With the bloke’s drink in hand, he wrapped his arm around your shoulder, his other hand inching to your covered drink now. He tipped his glass over you, causing you to jump and grab serviettes to dab yourself with. Just as fast, his fisted hand opened over your drink before helping you.

“No fucking way,” Simon said out loud.

“What?” Gaz followed his line of sight.

He marched over, yanking the man around by the shoulder. “What the bloody hell did you just do?”

He stumbled off his seat from the force, making the lieutenant tower over him even more. “What? Who- Do you know him?” He turned to you.

His finger jabbed the man’s chest. “What. The. Fuck. Did you put in her drink?”

“Nothing! What are you accusing me of?”

Simon didn’t miss the crack in the man’s voice. He raised your drink to the man’s face, a tiny white tablet swaying at the bottom of the glass. “Empty your pockets.”

“Simon, what’s…”

“I’m not repeating myself.”

The man fished out his phone, wallet and keys with trembling hands.

“That’s not all.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about. There’s nothing else, mate!” he said exasperatedly.

Simon’s patience ran dry. He patted his front pocket, hand bumping over something. “You need to see this,” he said quietly to you.

You hesitantly stuck your hand in the man’s left pocket, coming up with a bag of white tablets.

The man smacked the bag out of your hand. “You planted that, you slag!”

“If you didn’t do anything, drink it.” He spat, holding out your drink to him, now cloudy and fizzing.

He stared at the glass. “Fuck you,” he said, pushing it onto Simon’s chest before dashing out of the pub.

“Did he…”

“The fuck was that, Simon?” Price questioned from behind him.

“Fucking piece of shit spiked her drink.”

Price turned to you, a hand on your shoulder. “You got his name and number, love?”

“Yes.” You blinked. ”Yes, his number and dating profile.”

“I’m sending the coppas his way.” He picked up the evidence on the ground with a serviette. “Simon, get the details and make sure she gets home safe,” he said before approaching the barman.

You dried his ruined shirt with a wad of serviette. “I can’t even begin to thank you for your help, Simon. Really, thank you so much. I wouldn’t have-”

“You did good.” He squeezed your hand over his chest. “You covered your glass when you weren’t looking, but spilling his drink on you was something else.”

When you looked up at him with wide eyes, he dropped your hand.

“Would you like me to send you home?”

“I don’t want to trouble you. I don’t even live nearby.”

“Would you let me, if I want to?”

There was a pause before you smiled. “I think I’d like that, actually.”

When he grabbed his jacket from the table, Soap patted him on the back.

“Good catch, L.T. What a fuckin’ disgrace, the lad.”

“Have fun, Ghost,” Gaz teased.

Outside the pub where the streets were quieter, you forwarded the profile and chat screenshots of the man from your group chat to Simon.

“Can’t be too cautious. I’m not surprised if that’s not even his name honestly.” You shrugged, stuffing your phone back in your pocket. “I knew it was dodgy he insisted on meeting here when I said I’d rather somewhere in the middle, in broad daylight. That, and he was half an hour late too!”

It was disheartening to know this was the reality of dating, that all sorts of people lurked online, sometimes not with the best intentions. He’d show you his ID just to prove he wasn’t a creep, just someone smitten with a staring problem if any.

“If it was me, I’d have taken you anywhere you wanted.”

You chuckled.

“On my back too, if you prefer. I think you quite enjoyed that.”

“I did, actually,” you teased. “Is it a bad time to tell you I’m starving?”

“Yeah? That’s good news, because I’m always hungry. A kebab sounds about right at this hour.”

“Extra chips?”

“Extra chips,” he affirmed.

“You know what, I think this is my sign.” You pulled out your phone again, deleting an app. “Don’t think online dating was ever my thing.”

Is a stranger at a pub who shamelessly stares at you more your thing?

“Going out with someone who offers to carry me around is more like it.”

He bit back a smile. “So? Another ride on my back?”

You chuckled. “Next time,” you said, taking his arm instead.

As much as he enjoyed your touch, he couldn’t do with your fingers over his jacket. He needed to feel you. When he held your hand in his, you smiled up at him.

Simon had to thank his team for painstakingly convincing the stubborn lieutenant to approach the lady he’d been staring at. You didn’t have to know there was no bet, that asking to carry you was his own idea, an outrageous excuse to talk to you. But he wouldn’t complain if he ended up helping you, taking you for a little supper and even got to send you home.

“When’s next time?” he asked at your door, squeezing your hand.

You really shouldn’t have said it, because he was going to make sure there would be one. It had become a goal to show you how you deserved to be treated on a date.

“Is tomorrow too soon?”

“Right now isn’t even too soon.”

You laughed, pulling him down by the shoulder to meet your lips.

For @glitterypirateduck ‘s Ghost Challenge :D check out their page for fic recs!

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yandere-writer-momo · 2 days

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Yandere Imagine

Imagine an immortal Yandere that paints your portrait for all of eternity. Forever a slave to the overwhelming love they felt for you when you were alive. They must keep painting you or else they’re afraid they’ll forget what you look like…

It’s been eons since they had last seen you and they make sure to display your beauty in every museum and art exhibit they can in hopes to be reunited…

And once they see you again in your recent reincarnation? It’s over for you. They won’t let you carelessly slip through their fingers like before… because their love can last lifetimes.

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screampied · 15 hours

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just need a oneshot where toji being so extremely soft with his pregnant wife.😔

៹ content tags. ៹ fem! reader, pure fluff, toji's a big softie, calls reader 'mama' + 'baby' & 'darlin'

wc. 2.0k

toji rubs his eyes, pure static forming into his irises for a bit as he’d awaken up from his nap. with a quick glance at the clock, it read two thirty. in the background played the intro from some old western movie that was on repeat. ah, ever since you’ve gotten pregnant he’s always been staying up with you, ruining his sleep schedule in the process. not that he necessarily minded, you were his wife and he’d do anything for you,

his ears twitch a bit as he hears a sudden ruffling noise of feet — verdant eyes of his focus on you and it’s you trodding towards him and he smiles. “heyy,” he murmurs in a drowsy tone, he figured you’d be awake. toji stares at you so lovingly, the cute baby blue nightgown you wore, winnie the pooh slippers that dragged across the fleecy carpet. with a yawn, he pats his lap for you to take your seat. “y’er lil waddle never stops bein’ cute, mama.”

“stop.” you frown with a pouty look, he’d always tease whenever you do your cute little walk. he grows to adore it, the cute rounded bump on your belly only getting larger. pretty soon, you were about to reach your second trimester. time flew by so fast, it was almost like before you could blink, you’d be meeting your beloved new baby. you slowly make your way onto toji’s lap and he slings an arm around you. he smells good, you were a bit tired already from that ten second walk, cute..

“sorry baby,” toji utters in a soft voice, kissing the back of your head as you relax into his embrace, leaning back. “was gonna wake ya up but ya looked so peaceful,” and he brings a kiss near the inner crevice of your neck. “miss me already?”

you still remain with the cute glowering expression. with a sigh, you shrug. “yes, actually. missed you a lot.”

“awww,” toji caresses against your thighs, his touch was delicate and gentle. as he spoke in a gruff voice, he nips a few more kisses toward the corner of your neck as you faced the other direction. “missed you more. ‘n i missed our girl too,” and that catches you by surprise, he’d always refer to the baby’s gender as a girl. as if he could read your mind, he chuckles before leaning his head against your shoulder. “whaaat? got a feelin’ ‘s gonna be a girl.”

“i think it’s gonna be a boy,” you mumble, feeling your heart flutter a bit. oh, it was always like this between the two of you. the constant banter of the gender, toji just knew it was gonna be a girl while you thought otherwise. he’d be happy with either or though. you, likewise. toji watches with half-lidded eyes as you turn your body a bit to face him, wrapping your arms around his neck. you plant a kiss on his chin, lips brushing against his stubble and he hums in amusement. “did you get any sleep at all? you have eye bags, ‘toj.”

“ah, ‘m fine,” he grins at your concern, the scar slashed near the right side of his lip twinging in response. you were so cute—the pregnancy glow you had bestowed on you, he could stare at you all day. toji leans in to kiss your nose, yet he notices your deadpan. with a grunt, he surrenders.

“okay okay, the most i got was maybe four-ish hours,” and the look of worry on your face made his heart twist. toji pats your head, smoothening his tone. “don’t worry, baby. it was for a good cause. was up all night readin’ that book you bought like last week.”

with your brows furrowing in confusion, your lips part at your abrupt realization. “oh— the pregnancy fact book?” and then you giggle. “really? i thought you said books were boring, toji.”

“trust, they are,” he sulks, bringing his wrist to rub his eyes. you take a brief glance at his broken watch you bought him for his thirtieth birthday. despite it being unable to tell time anymore, he still flaunts it, all because it was a gift from you. with a low sigh, toji moves a few strands out of your face. “but, ‘m willing to try new things for you—er, for us. and it’s quite informative, it told me about y’er strange cravings ‘n it checks out.”

you frown. “what’s wrong with my cravings? you told me you like them.”

“well, darlin’ i love you a lot okay,” and he paints a wet kiss against your cheek. “but if i have to eat another peanut butter pickle sandwich with you, ‘m gonna lose it.”

“it’s not that bad,” you protest, bringing a palm near your stomach to rub it. the bump was easily growing as the weeks progressed—you couldn’t help but be excited once the week of forty rolled around. “you just have a bland appetite.”

toji rolls his eyes. “peanut butter and pickles, baby. not jelly, pickles. pickles?” and you look at him, he’s gently holding both of your shoulders before you giggle. “and i thought nothin’ could top the toast ‘n ice cream.”

you deadpan again. “okay now you’re just being dramatic.”

“i love you,” he boops your nose. “i love you and y’er weird food cravings,” and toji’s eyes trail down toward your tummy. so cute and round, he gingerly moves the fabric of your gown up to reveal your skin, a palm ghosting against your belly. “any cramps today? pain i should know about?”

“no,” you hum, immediately relaxing from his touch. the warmth of his hand made your breathing slow a bit. he moves it around in a smooth circular rotation before brushing a thumb against your belly button. “kinda scared toji.”

leafy, viridescent eyes meet its way back up to yours before his face softens. “what for, darlin’? good scared or bad scared?”

in a sweet, timid tone, you puff out a single shaky breath. “like … both i guess? i’m excited of course but ‘m kinda scared. we’re having a baby, toji. pretty soon i’ll be on my third trimester,” and he’s so attentive as you’re talking, quite literally getting lost in your eyes. who knew that you could turn this man into such a soft sap, he adored you. as you continue to rant, toji strokes your cheek with a warmhearted simper. “i watched lots of videos about birthing and it looks scary.”

“not gonna lie to you, baby. ‘s gonna be scary, but y’know what? ‘m gonna be right there with you,” and he strokes a thumb against the enlarging stretch marks growing against your belly. he’s gentle, tracing a finger against each one before his eyes avert back up to you. “i’ll be right beside you. holdin’ y’er hand ‘n all,” and he kisses the crown of your head. “y’er gonna be the prettiest mommy. our girl’s lucky to have you. i’m lucky to have you.”

for some reason, those last few words struck right through the veins of your heart. mentally, you promised yourself you wouldn’t cry—

but alas, your eyes start to swell up, bottom lip quivering and toji notices immensely at your change of body language.

“awww, was that too much?” he purrs, bringing you towards his chest. you sniffle, your nose digging into his neck and an arm of his cradles you. toji starts to rock you, he presses another kiss against the top of your head before humming. “didn’t mean ‘ta make ya cry, darlin’ but ‘s true. ya don’t gotta worry that pretty little head, ‘m gonna be right here for anything..”

a solid tear drops against his tank top before your chin rests against his chest. you slowly look up at him with that familiar pouty expression before he swipes a thumb against your eyes. “cutie,” he takes your tears away, your lashes all damp and long. “y’er even more emotional because of the baby too. hormones, aw yeah i know these facts by heart.”

“you’re such a dork,” you wipe your face with a laugh, the mood suddenly light again. toji was gonna be spewing out pregnancy facts at you all day, you knew that now. whilst you sat up, trying to re-collect yourself, you speak in a soft voice. “but really, thank you toji. i love you,” and you grab ahold of his hand. your fingers intertwine with his, squeezing it tight. “you’ll be a great daddy.”

“heyy girl, don’t make me cry now,” he teases, a thumb of his running across the softness of your hand.

toji’s face relaxes, the more he stares into your eyes, the more he falls more and more in love.

toji was just as excited as you, maybe even more.

he couldn’t wait to start this new milestone, this new journey with you. a baby, the two of you would be proud new parents. the thought of it alone brings a soft smile to his face before he leans in to kiss you.

you return the gesture,

closing your eyes while feeling his warm lips mash against your own. toji was so weak for you, happily so.

life was worth living for him again now that he had you and the growing baby in your stomach. once you met him, he thought he’d never move on. he was a broken man who came to the mere conclusion that he had no purpose— all until you came along. toji didn’t believe in second chances, but maybe he’d start. you were his everything, and he couldn’t have been anymore grateful to have you in his arms at this right particular moment.

after a while, the kiss departs and toji smears a thumb against your glossed lips. “you drive me crazy,” he whispers, soft jade like irises peering into yours for about fourteen seconds before he sneaks a kiss near your jaw. “oh, you just reminded me. i ordered somethin’ the other day.”

with your interest piqued, you watch as he grabs out his phone— toji opens some shopping app, swiping a thumb near the check out section before showing it to you. what you were staring at was a cute huge pink sticker for cars that displayed the words of, ‘BABY ON BOARD!’

“you’re so cute,” you lean in to hug him, finding his enthusiasm adorable. a hand of his strums against your back before he leans against the couch. “you’re really set on it being a girl though, huh?”

“yeah,” he presses his nose against yours. “or if it’s a boy, we can name ‘em toji. such a manly name.”

your eye twitches. “one of you is enough,” and he smirks, feeling your thumb play against his scar. “but toji, ‘s like the afternoon. you should go back to sleep.”

“not tired,” he shakes his head, wrapping two arms around your sweet frame. your scent had him always wanting more of you, so sweet. toji pats your back gently before his face buries into your neck. “i’d rather stay up ‘n talk with you.”

“but i was gonna go back to sleep,” you pout.

toji huffs with a smile, kissing the shell of your ear. “oh, you want me back in bed, ‘s that it? darlin’ you could have just asked.”

you blankly stare at him and he guffaws, standing up and pulling you with him. “ah, c’mon. let’s go sleep for another fifteen hours i guess,” he teases, and he helps you walk. toji gawks at your cute waddle. so cute, you felt like you had so much water stored in you. entirely full, your heels slide against the floor before you hold onto your husband’s bicep. “there we go, one step at a time.”

“i’m not a baby, toji.” you mutter, secretly feeling yourself get hot from his doting affection. he’s holding onto you and you’re holding on to him.

“y’er my baby,” he corrects, and once the two of you reach the empty bedroom filled with infant supplies and boxes of baby furniture, you take a seat on the edge of the mattress. toji towers above you as you sit, cupping your face with a sly smile. “wife,” he coos in a gentle voice, two thumbs fondling against both sides of your temples. “i love you. never forget it, yeah?”

“i .. love you too toji.”

he hums. “heh, before we sleep though. how about some pickles?” and your face lights up.

#★vegasbaby.#toji x reader #toji x you #toji fluff #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk x y/n #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #female reader

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bunnis-monsters · 3 days

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OK SO- I fou d you from your werebunny post which-

BTW

Was really good?? I- it made me feel things- If possible, more werebunny crumbs please? It could go either sfw or nsfw, I don't mind! (Or both but its up to you!)

NSFW

It’s always fun watching his cotton tail wag with excitement when you’re near. He has the cutest pink nose, soft bunny ears and a fluffy tail that goes crazy with every kiss and touch.

Momo, your pretty bunny, really enjoyed having you near. His heart would explode with joy every time you kissed him, his bunny ears flicking as his nose twitched.

“Mmph… love~”

He couldn’t stand being apart from you, living in separate homes just wasn’t an option. He set up a nest in your room within weeks of your first meeting, unable to be away from you for more than a few minutes.

Lately, he had been extra clingy, and very possessive, which was uncharacteristic for him. Usually he was pretty submissive and sweet, almost like a lap pet that wanted all of your attention… but now he was more like a guard dog, constantly on alert, his body always subtly in front of yours.

It was only when you woke up to him humping your leg, his face buried in your neck that you realized what was going on.

He was in some kind of heat or rut… whatever it was, it was making him cling to you, desperate to mate and keep you safe.

All he wanted was to be close to you. The first stage of his rut had him making a cozy little nest in your bed, then spending all his his time snuggling you, his cute fluffy tail wagging furiously as he pulled you in for more kisses and nibbles.

The next stage… you weren’t ready for. You had sec with Momo before, but this was his rut. He was insatiable, fucking into your cunt fast and hard, unlike to gentle, sweet love making you usually experienced.

And his stamina was way too high, one breeding session lasting nearly 5 hours. Every time he came, he bit down on your shoulder or neck, his hips fitting against you as he begged for your forgiveness.

“Sorry, so sorry… just need it so bad, angel! Need to… g-give you my litter!”

After each session, he ignored his own exhaustion and pampered you, purring and bathing you, letting your head rest on his chest as his cotton tail wagged. Momo felt terrible, breeding you for so long… but he just couldn’t help it! His rut made him so horny, and he could only focus on filling you with cum and impregnating you!

But he adored you so, making sure you were treated like a princess once your baby bump began to show. Momo was so proud, not able to keep his hands off of your belly.

“My princess… gonna be a good mommy, the best…”

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makelemonade · 2 days

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Imagine sending your favourite genshin or even jjk men a video of you while they’re away on a mission/work trip.

but not just any video- specifically one where you’re on your back, a toy fucking into you and somehow you seems to have either taped the phone to your ceiling so he could see your whole body or you got a camera for the view.

but it’s not just ANY TOY. It’s those toys that produce insane amounts of fake cum and they don’t stop (I’m a slut for them okay) and he is losing it.

it’s 3 minutes, the first few seconds he’s watching you lay down, taking note of your shirt- it’s his. God that turns him on already, and what makes it worse is you have nothing else on. No parties, pants or a bra. Just his shirt.

You hike it up over your chest, mumbling “don’t wan’ get it dirty…” Your nipples are exposed and he wished he was there to play with them- hell suck on them too.

He watches you get comfy, reaching up to finally let the tip of the rather large fake dildo fit its way into your pussy and he’s surprised when it starts moving on its own- as if it has a mind.

It starts slow, and he feels himself throb against his pants, but he couldn’t take it out and jerk off just yet. He still had so much more to do today, but he didn’t wanna stop watching the video- he felt like he’d betray his morals and sin if he didn’t worship you the moment you sent the video.

Your moans make it so much worse. They’re so whiny, and he knows the toy isn’t enough for you- he knows you need his fat cock, fucking into you at a pace with a certain roughness you oh so love.

He groans when you reach one hand up to begin to play with your left nipple, whining even more as the toy started to go a bit faster. He loved the fact you were teasing yourself with it, knowing that he’d tease you just as much.

“M-miss you…” You breathed out with a moan, the toy going faster and deeper into you and your hands shoot for the sheets, gripping onto them.

He’s struggling insanely- would people notice if he left? Could he just abandon it all and come back to his slutty wife? God he was debating it.

“Nghh- baby! I need you!” You whine out as your hips start to thrust itself onto the toy and he literally almost moans at the sight.

It’s going a lot faster now, but not as fast as he could ever be with you. It’ll have to do though, since he can’t be there for you. He almost laughs however, because how could this slow toy ever truly satisfy you- it’s not like his cock which stretched you wide and the way you scream when he cums all-

Oh.

The toy cums.

His jaw drops and he literally moans at your gasp when it produces such insane amounts of fat cum to the point it forced itself out of you and went all over your chest, reaching your nipples. Now he understands why you hiked his shirt up.

It’s never-ending. There’s a pool of cum under you and it’s all over your chest. Like. ALL OVER.

It stops after 15 whole seconds of cumming nonstop and if anyone could see him right now, they’d wonder why the hell is his jaw so low, eyes so wide and DAMN his dick is so big you can see the outline just from his pants.

Yeah. Now he’s gotta take it out, he decides as he runs to a nearby private place while texting you.

Such a dirty slut. It’s ‘cum’ will never be the real thing, though. Can’t wait to come home and cum into you triple the amount it got on and in you.

^^ really any of the JJK + Genshin men I can honestly imagine them ALL. I imagined this heavily with Nanami, Geto, Alhaitham, Childe and Diluc. Also Goio but bro would teleport to u to fuck u and then teleport straight back LMFAO

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inblurtub · 3 days

Text

lovingly siesta | a smau | part 2

pairing(s): youngest sister leclerc!reader x f1 grid (platonic), youngest sister leclerc!reader x lando norris

warnings: no face claim, age gap (25-18), protective charles leclerc, super softie pie lando, ooc

need part 1? click here!

yourusername

liked by arthur_leclerc, charles_leclerc and 25.485 others

yourusername while i were pluto-ing 🌌 midterms hit harder than i thought

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user24 i have said it once and i’ll say it again, i missed her being little so much🥹 she is now a college girl with a boyfriend

user26 sis i think we go to the same uni—

arthur_leclerc too bad you don’t go for racing

yourusername every family need a smart ass girl and that is me arthur_leclerc just because you are the only princesse in the family😨 yourusername fair enough

user22 so nobody gonna bring up the 2nd picture?? i’m hungry for context😭

user24 yeh not even charles?? must be my delusion🤯

user29 listen to me, if he wasn’t lando then he couldn’t be anyone else

yourusername posted on their stories

↳ charles_leclerc ma princesse, i wish you all the best with lando, but if he ever hurt you don’t hesitate to tell your brothers. we’re gonna beat his ass real quick

yourusername i know sharl🫶🏻 i love ur three so much that i can’t say enough💓

↳ landonorris WE DID IT

yourusername YES WE DID IT landonorris now i can take you out and treat you meals any time i want😈

↳ arthur_leclerc use protection🙂

yourusername DO NOT spill shit out like that with your verified account🙂 but i will if we really do it

yourusername

liked by oscarpiastri, landonorris and 194.326 others

yourusername my fighter🫶🏻 what a wonderful race that was, start to think that i’m your lucky charm! tagged landonorris

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yourusername only if @/charles_leclerc allow charles_leclerc as if i have the choice to refuse😒

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landonorris

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landonorris just helped her in a song that she wrote about her sweetheart

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landonorris minions and none-minions people, be ready for “not-so-single era”

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yourusername nuh uh im still a ferrari girl you know

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urfavlarry · 2 days

Text

Cigarettes After Sex

Joost Klein x fem!reader

warnings: implied smut

a/n: sorry this is so short, tried to get something out as soon as possible for you guys🩵

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The room felt hot. The type of hot when you went to change after P.E. in the changing room during the summer. You panted slightly, head rested on the fluffed up pillows, goosebumps evident on your arm as your boyfriend rubbed your back with his slender fingers. You let out a sigh, lifting yourself up by the shoulders your upper body getting exposed which made you look away. You heard Joost chuckle, bringing you closer your sweaty bodies tangled together. “Why so shy? You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before.” He says, voice more low and raspy than usual. You smiled softly, running your hand through his messy blonde, almost white hair, deciding to get up you slip from under the covers, not without Joosts protests; “Just stay for a few more minutes..” He whined but you managed to slip from his grasp, your bare skin getting hit with the cold air. You shiver slightly, stretching before getting up to grab some fresh pyjamas and walk to the bathroom, running yourself a warm bath. You groan, your aching body finally relaxing in the boiling water. It hurt but felt so good on your skin. You decide to stay like this for about 15 minutes, getting yourself clean and ready for bed, slipping on your fresh pyjamas and dry your soaking wet hair.

You get out of your bathroom and walk down the small hall to your bedroom, Joost only in his boxers, lighting some candles and turning on the LEDs you bought when you moved in together. You admired his body, your stomach turning even after seeing it hundreds of times before which made you feel like an obsessed fan girl. You walked up behind him, wrapping your arms around his waist and kissing his back gently. He turned you around, admiring every part of you looking love struck. He kisses you on the forehead before going to get his sweatpants that were across the room and grabbed a pack of cigarettes out of the pockets. He gestures the box towards you, offering you one so you gladly accept, grabbing a random lighter from your bedside table and walk to your balcony after quickly grabbing one of Joosts hoodies.

You sat on the seats you got for the balcony, bringing your knees to your chest and look at the streets of Amsterdam. You exhale the grey smoke and rest your head on Joosts shoulder who sat right next to you. He put a comforting hand on your bruised thigh, gently rubbing circles on it and kisses the side of your head. “The moon is so beautiful today mijn liefje.” (my love) He says, kissing your cheek and then the corner of your mouth. He moves down to your neck, feeling soft pecks on your skin you let out a soft gasp since your neck was covered in love bites he left just a few hours ago. “I love you too.” You say and inhale the smoke one last time before putting it out and throwing it in the ashtray in front of you on the small coffee table you had on the balcony. A comfortable silence fell upon the two of you you, Joost rubbing your arm softly and you were practically falling asleep. The cars passing by and the chatter of drunk teens that were out way past their curfew was lulling you to sleep. You weren’t the type to fall asleep when it was dead quiet, always soft music playing in the background or you just left the window open for some noise to come in. Joost didn’t mind this at all, he was quiet a heavy sleeper not even a cold bucket of ice being able to wake him up.

Joost takes out another cigarette, lighting it and inhaling the smoke before letting the smoke leave his lungs. He offers you the cigarettes, putting it up to your mouth and you gladly accept, letting it burn your lungs a soft sigh escaping your lips. The sun was about to rise, the dark blue colour turning a purple-ish to pink colour. It hit your eyes perfectly, bringing out the colour of your eyes more. You groan, not enjoying that the sun was literally trying to burn your eyes alive. Joost throws the now cigarette butt away and lifts you up, walking with you back to your bedroom and lays down on the bed with you. Your legs get tangled together, it was almost as if it was now an instinct to do that whenever you cuddled or went to sleep. You burried your face in his neck, shutting your eyes as a quick yawn escaped your lips. “Please tell me your staying home tommorow..” You plead, sounding almost like a desperate child. Joost just nods tiredly, kissing you on the forehead “hm.. goede nacht schat..” He says while yawning and clings to you like his life depended on it. He slowly fell asleep, leaving you slone with your thoughts. This was almost like a dream, this whole event, but even if it was you couldn’t have asked for a better one.

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╰┈➤ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ 🐦 ɞ˚‧｡⋆

#joost klein x y/n #joost klein fanfiction #joost klein x you #joost klein x reader #joost klein #justice for joost #joostice #stand with joost #free joost #oneshot #x fem!reader #female reader #urfavlarry

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xdacted · 2 days

Text

twenty seconds or twenty years?

Pairing: Reader x Max Verstappen

Warnings: fluff, Regency! Au, period-typical sexism

Word Count: 4,359

Status: Completed

Max was never one for balls or parties.

The entirety of the social season felt bothersome, a chore. His mother, however, found his resistance to society a mere ‘bout’, a passing stinge, thinking he simply had yet to stumble across the right debutante. As such, she insisted upon his attendance at any and all gatherings, responding to invitations on his behalf.

He was expected at nearly every event until June.

Max was previously able to busy himself with the workings of business affairs, often called to distant corners of the nation just as the season neared, but his mother had enough of his excuses. When she stomped into his office, an invitation in hand, slamming it upon his desk, he was unable to escape.

“You will attend,” She seethed, “If you are to take the title from your father, you must find a wife.”

Attend he did, rocking along in a carriage to the first ball of the season. A rather large event, or so Victoria had said, hosted by the Russel family.

The estate grew closer, emerging from the darkness with twinkling lights. The strong structure sat surrounded by lush grass and proud trees, gently swaying in the evening wind. Max fought the growing knot of dread that formed in the pit of his stomach, twisting uncomfortably in his seat. He wished for nothing more than to pass the evening as a mere shadow, lost to the crowd, unnoticed.

The carriage slowed to a stop and Max was slow to descend, gingerly stepping down and straightening his tailcoat. He dismissed his driver with a nod, suppressing the urge to clammer back within the confines of the carriage. He was met with the grandeur of the Russel estate, staggering pillars wrapped in foliage, imposing walls that dripped into magnificent window frames, and adorned with intricate moldings.

It was a sight to beyond, but Max could hardly stand it.

The sounds of others pulling onto the gravel behind him prompted him to slip through a lingering horde of guests and the entrance. The large doors opened to a spacious foyer, marble floors drenched in the warm chandelier light.

Max expected nothing less from the Russels, an honorable family attached to an impeachable name and title. He attended school with the youngest son, George, and hoped to find him before he was lost to the throng of other partygoers. Finding his fellow bachelors was the only source of solace Max found at such events. Many were his past schoolmates or current business partners, but more so, they were his friends.

If he were to suffer, he saw no reason why he needed to do so alone.

As if hearing his plea, a tall figure entered his field of vision.

“Verstappen!” A voice behind him exclaimed, clapping a hand on his shoulder.

He turned, the tension easing in his shoulders, “Russel.”

George stared at him, an indiscernible look on his face, “I must admit, I was quite surprised to hear that you would be attending tonight. I thought you, of us all, a perpetual bachelor.”

The comment was made in jest, but Max could not deny the truth of his words. Though he did not hold as infamous a reputation as some, Max was regarded as Unmatchable, unrelenting in his desire to never marry or sire children.

As far as he was concerned, his father’s wicked bloodline would die with him.

Max could only shrug, scooping a glass of champagne from a passing waiter, “ I assure you, old friend, it was far from my idea.”

It was my mother's, the thought went unsaid, but Max was sure George knew well enough. His mother worried for him. She only wished to see him happy, Max wished she would drop the marriage matter entirely.

“I see,” George muttered, running a hand across his chin, a moment of silence passed between them.

Then, as chipper as ever, he exclaimed, “Well, here is to the rotten luck of some.”

With a snort, Max raised his glass before bringing it to his lips. Their banter was a long-established one, forged within the walls of preparatory academy and later enforced at university.

Max opened his mouth to inquire about their fellow bachelors, but was interrupted by two ladies making their way to him, fans held up to their faces. He was locked into a conversation before he could plan his escape. Though Max was grateful for George’s company, the sight of two of the ton’s most eligible bachelors detached from a group of their own welcomed the yapping hordes of women and mothers. They were soon drowning in a sea of fabrics and sparkling jewels, unable to do more than listen as accomplishments were rattled off and dance cards were shoved in their faces.

Max wished they would attach themselves to truly interested bachelors, of which there were plenty, but he suspected it was not so much them as it was their lineage. The other had always been incredibly popular, but Max, well, he knew of the rumors.

Max Verstappen, heir to the Duke of Hasselt, is a great beast - a monster, like his father. Though his stormy demeanor deterred many, the alluring promise of a dukedom attracted far more than his attitude could ward off.

Just as the voices began to melt into one, George nudged Max with his shoulder, “Thank you, ladies, but we must take our leave. We are required elsewhere.”

Their protests were almost immediate, pushing themselves closer to the bachelors, fluttering eyes and pouted lips directed towards them.

Truly, Max would have more sympathy if he would be given more space.

“Thank you,” He said, voice coming out far firmer than he meant, “But we should be going now.”

They were quick to silence, shuffling apart to clear a small opening, and Max was quicker to take it. He could hardly breathe amongst the clouds of perfume, nose burning with the assaulting scents, and was grateful for their escape.

“You looked as if you might die,” George muttered, guiding them to a small clearing by the dancefloor, “Were they truly so appalling?”

Max opened his mouth to answer, but no words found themselves tumbling out. It was not as if he were repulsed by the idea of a woman, or even of marriage, but the unhappiness he witnessed with his parents’ marriage was something he was unable to shake. His mother had been miserable, chained to a Verstappen man with no option but to provide him with the children he demanded.

Max could never, in good consciousness, reward that with the succession of the Verstappen line.

They arrived at the clearing before he could gather his thoughts. There, nursing glasses and wearing knowing smiles, stood Viscount Riccardo, son of Viscount Norris, and the Earl of Monte-Carlo.

A few of his oldest friends.

“Gentlemen!”

The men tipped their heads in respect but maintained their smirks.

“Never thought I would live to see the day,” Daniel began, “Max Verstappen at a party.”

“I rather think it was not his idea, was it?” Charles laughed, looking over at Lando who watched on with an ill-concealed smile.

“No,” Max sighed with a roll of his eyes, “It was not.”

Laughter erupted from the bachelors, George clapping another hand down upon Max’s shoulder. Their voices were hidden from passersby by the constant flow of music.

“Regardless,” Lando said, wiping a tear from his eye, “Perhaps a wife could be best.”

“How so?”

“Well,” He gestured to the room, clusters of women craning their necks to gaze at them, “If you were married, there would be no reason to attend these parties. You would have your solitude.”

“It is not solitude I desire,” Max muttered, running a hand through his hair.

He could hardly imagine a worse fate, but it was one he was willing to fall into.

“Then what do you desire, dear friend?” Daniel quipped, casting him a sideways glance.

Max could give no response, the words a thick ball in his throat, he could only push his nose into his glass. The topic was quickly dropped and conversation floated between them easily, even as they were picked off to catch a dance or two. Still, they were left to relative peace. Approaching a pair or lone bachelor was simple, it was encouraged. But, to find yourself in front of a group, was seen as distasteful, and desperate.

Regardless, the room only continued to fill, guests spilling into other parts of the estate, but with it, so did the knot in Max’s stomach. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, fingers nervously tapping upon a nearby table.

Parties presented the unknown, and Max had tried desperately to stay far from it - the thought frightened him more than he would ever admit aloud. Within the unknown, was love.

Love felt completely foreign, a thing of fiction or myth, a sentiment that filled the pages of novels and fairy tales. Max was told that his mother and father did love each other, once. To present, however, that affection had long been lost.

Max had more than one idea as to why.

His father was a petulant man, looking to command others through fear, not respect. He was well regarded in the eyes of His Majesty, but ill in the eyes of the Ton. He was cold and selfish and, despite his prayers, Max’s father. Though Max had made every attempt to differ himself, it seemed that he was his father’s son.

And he always would be.

“-stappen…Verstappen…Max!”

The sound of his name yanked him from his thoughts.

“...yes?”

Charles looked over at him, eyebrows furrowed with worry, “Is something the matter? I called your name, but…”

Max shook his head, waving a dismissive hand, “I am quite alright, I apologize. I was merely lost in the lights.”

Still, the look remained.

“Honestly, Charles,” He placed a hand on the other’s shoulder, “I am fine.”

Max turned away from him before he could utter anything else, bringing his hand back to his side. His eyes swept over the dance floor, hoping to calm his nerves in the senselessness of the evening. Both Lando and Daniel had taken to the floor, pulling themselves towards their partners. They stepped to the music, the quartet hidden away in the balcony. A few paces over, was George. Accompanying his mother on a round of the room, and receiving praise for a successful opening to the season no doubt.

The room was lively, couples turning in time and chatting coyly. Though it was not his preferred evening, he could see the appeal of such parties.

He felt rather foolish.

His eyes moved over the entrance, the trickle of people slowing, most finding themselves huddled around the dancefloor. Then, just as he was about to pull his gaze from the doors, something - or rather someone - caught his eye.

A woman, drenched in the candlelight, moving through the crowd of people. Her entrance was met with no fanfare or buzz, but he was entranced. If no one had taken notice of her yet, how foolish they must be.

She was the most gorgeous creature to exist.

A gentle smile on perfect lips, a tendril of hair curling over her forehead, the softest hint of rouge dusted across her cheeks - Max was caught. He was caught within the lace of her dress, within the glimmer of her jewelry, within the silk of her gloves. He was caught and never wished to be released from her grasp.

She was beautiful, extraordinarily so - blindingly so.

She was unlike any other woman he had ever seen, working her way through greetings, and rounding the room with her chaperone.

“Do you -” He forced himself to swallow, throat suddenly tight, “Do you know who that is?”

Charles nodded, relaying to Max her name and family, “I believe this is her first season. She was, according to my mother, a great success at the presentation to the queen.”

Max could see exactly why, a hand curled around the arm of her chaperone, dance card dangling from her wrist - each step was taken with purpose, with conviction. She was no simpering debutante, she was a lady commanding the attention of the room. Her strength was in her grace.

He watched as George and his mother approached her, she dropped into a low curtsy, rising again with her gentle smile. They were too far to make out the words they spoke, but Max yearned to know. He yearned to hear her voice, to be near her, to breathe her air.

“Has she caught your eye, old friend?”

For the first time, Max broke his start, turning to glare at Charles.

“Do not bother denying it,” He laughed, patting Max’s arm, “Ask her to dance.”

Perhaps, he dared, just for tonight.

He glanced back over to her, her eyes moving across the room before finding him. He was sure he forgot to breathe, her gaze piercing through him.

The thought crossed his mind. He could take her to dance, it would hardly mean a thing, but he was unsure if he would survive it. If he could withstand the heat of her gaze, the feeling of her hands within his own.

Max never thought himself a weak man.

He pulled himself away, “No,” he cleared his throat, adjusting his collar, “I - I - it would be best if I refrain.”

Perhaps, he was.

He hadn’t the slightest clue what was wrong with him, but he could not possibly give himself the chance to find out, most definitely not with her. Granted, he hadn’t attended as many parties as Charles or Daniel, but he was no neophyte. Such a reaction was ridiculous, he had only learned her name, and he could not dismantle his entire life’s purpose for a woman he had only just met.

Could he?

A look of curiosity crawled across Charles’ face once more, and this time Max feared he would be forced to hear the question that awaited him, but, as if by magic, George reappeared before them.

“Whatever is the matter with him?” He teased, sipping from his champagne glass.

“I think our dear friend is -”

“I am not.”

“Oh,” George smiled, an evil thing, “I think you are.”

Max felt his face flush, a dreadful heat racing down his spine. He reached over, snatching a lute of champagne from a passing tray, his mouth felt incredibly dry.

“I suggest you make haste, friend,” George muttered, turning to take in the dancefloor. It was filled with bodies, but Max was only concerned with one.

She stood alongside other ladies, chatting idly before a gentleman approached. Max recognized him as a second son with little to offer, the gentleman bowed deeply offering his hand to her. She seemed to draw the same conclusion, the smallest lapse of hesitation passing over her before placing her hand in his. He turned them onto the dancefloor.

Max was unable to answer, attention locked onto her as she danced, the music beginning behind him. Her movement was graceful and perfect, lines straight and steady.

“You may have found your bride yet,” Charles sighed, resting his hands upon his hips, “But you will lose her if you do not take action.”

“She is not mine to have,” Max said, placing his glass down harsher than necessary, “Perhaps it is time I take my leave.”

“I did not mean -”

“No,” George stepped forward, “You never come out to these parties, stay.”

“I really should -”

“Stay.”

He looked towards his friend, unsure of what to say. He hadn’t ever revealed his reasoning behind his continued bachelorhood, but he knew his friends recognized it as something far deeper. It was simply not in their nature to divulge such feelings.

Wordlessly, he plucked another glass from a tray and downed its contents. Quite boorish, but the slight burn helped soothe the pounding of his heart. It was far from his favorite alcohol, but it was all accepted for such parties. The stronger brandy was hidden away in the smoking lounges, and Max hardly entered those.

“Excellent!” George cheered.

Eventually, Lando and Daniel returned, with George departing to greet more guests.

Despite not being the heir, George made himself ever-useful. He was often a source of great knowledge or companionship - a dutiful host too.

“I cannot believe it…” Lando mumbled, fixing a crease in his coat, with a scowl.

“What?”

“Lord Ambrose,” He nearly sneered, “He insists on filling up dance cards before other gentlemen can, believing it to be a ‘claim’ upon the ladies.”

Charles shuddered, “He is a brute.”

“He is a cheat,” Lando pressed, “There are open bookings at the club with no sight of a check.”

“He is an Earl,” Daniel reminded, placing his glass between Charles and Max, “To be his wife is to have security.”

“But what of love?” Charles questioned indignantly, “What of proper courtship? Of a love match?”

“What of it?” Max’s words left him before he was able to keep them back.

“Well,” Charles turned to the dance floor, gesturing with his glass to her, “Would you court her? Or would you wish that she marry a man like Ambrose for security?” He nearly spat the word.

“It is much more complex than that,” Max said, finding her once more in the crowd.

She returned his gaze in an instant as if she could sense him, offering him a small smile. His heart began to pound once more.

“Women are forced to rely on the security of a name,” He tried to busy himself with his words, “A name that can only come from marriage, a name only a man can provide. They are not left with much choice.”

Charles seemed to think. He would never truly understand, as he had no sisters, but Max did. He remembers Victoria’s first season with burning clarity, how terribly nervous she had been. Her entire life and personality were boiled down to a singular match. And once she did marry, she was removed from their family, excised, and replanted.

Max hated it.

“Yes,” Charles whispered, his voice nearly lost to the swell of the music, “I - I suppose you are right…”

A bubble of pleasant silence grew over them, shrouded by the music as it drew to a close. Max watched as the gentleman returned her to the other ladies, offering another deep bow before stepping away. The ladies curled around her in an instant, their eyes alight with wonder. There was a soft flush to her cheeks, but she still looked breathtaking, fanning herself gently with a hand.

Something grew within his stomach, only it was not dread, it was something light.

“Oh, bother,” Lando hissed, eyes squirting just beyond the group of ladies.

“What is it?”

“There he is,” He jerked his head, something quite unlike him, “And dare I say he is -”

He was approaching her, coming upon the smallest break within the ladies’ bodies and greeting them with a hungry smile. Max’s legs were moving before he could will himself to stay put. Lord Ambrose was looking around the ladies, leaning far closer to them than necessary.

Max was cutting through the crowd, sidestepping other partygoers and ignoring the calls of his name. Anger flared within him, perhaps it was more disgust, at Amrbose’s blatant disregard for their honor.

Of all the bachelors, he had the most notorious of reputations. Countless mistresses and bastards littered his name, but the depth of his pockets made it a mere speck upon his title. She was well within her rights to select any man she pleased, and Max could never tell her any different, but he would not allow her honor to tarnish - any other gentlemen, just not him.

“I hope I am not interrupting,” Max interjected, inserting himself between her and Lord Ambrose, “But I was wished to ask if,” He turned to face her, heart pounding, “I may have your next dance?”

“You are interrupting, Verstappen, as I was about -”

Her eyes went aglow with something akin to relief and she placed her hand in his, tightening around him, “Of course, I would be honored.”

The murmurs from the surrounding ladies were immediate, covering their mouths with dazzling fans, but there was nothing to hide their amazement. The beast out to dance, how unlikely. He held his arm out for her, rounding the expanse of the dance floor as they awaited the music.

“I must apologize if - if I overstepped,” He sighed as they settled away from earshot, “I did not mean to make it seem as if you needed my saving.”

“Your apology is accepted,” She smiled up at him, placing a gloved hand upon his shoulder, and the other resting gently within his grasp, “But, regardless of how unnecessary it may have been, I am quite grateful.”

“Though I must admit, Mr. Verstappen,” The music queued up behind them, a gentle melody of strings, “I was under the impression you had no interest in dancing.”

Her words were a double-edged sword and Max could not deny.

“I, typically, do not,” He swallowed thickly, unable to withhold the truth with her before him, “But for you, I suspect there are many exceptions to be had yet.”

Her blush burned through her cheeks and to the tips of her ears, Max suppressed a chuckle. She was quick to recover, moving away from him with the first steps of the dance. It was a simple one, filled with a series of spins and skips. Despite his reluctance, he was still a member of high society. His education had included such social niceties, though he never thought he would put them to use.

“You are a far better dancer than the rumors allow you credit for.”

“Are you one to listen to rumors?”

“Only when they make such a man to be a beast,” She looked at him through her eyelashes, though it was not coy. There was nothing demure about her gaze, it was striking.

It was as if she wished to see into the very depths of his soul, to know all of his secrets and deepest desires.

And Max, the great fool he is, would gladly allow her.

He spun her in time with the music, guiding her by the waist, before pulling her near him once more. This close, he was able to see her more clearly. The shape of her eyes, the slope of her nose, the roundness of her face - her beauty knew no bounds. The very dress she wore, a mere cloth of elaborate stitching, seemed to be one with her body, made for her.

He supposes it was, but so many debutants attempted to hide their nervousness behind frilly clothing and blinding jewels. She, however, seemed to command the very fabric on her skin.

“Is there something the matter, My lord?”

Her voice shook him from his thoughts, but there was a knowing look in her eye.

“No, no, I apologize,” He stepped behind her, reaching for her hand, “And I am not Lord, not - not yet.”

“Many men would jump at the chance to claim a title that is not theirs,” She huffed, unable to hide the roll of her eyes.

“Well,” Max found both her hands, lifting them above their heads before tracing a hand down her spine to the small of her back, “I am not most men.”

She sucked in a sharp breath at his touch, and when he went to remove his hand, she leaned into it, “No, I suppose you are not.”

The air between them was electric, thick with unspoken desire. There was much to say, much to do, but Max only planned to keep her from Ambrose, not the entirety of the marriage mart.

He straightened once more, clearing his throat, “My - my mother was incredibly involved in our upbringing. I learned a myriad of things my fellow bachelors did not.”

She seemed to think for a moment, cocking her head to the side, “Like…sewing?”

“...Yes,” He sighed, spinning them around, “But she said it was more with my unruly desire to be the best at…well, everything.”

His words pulled a laugh from her lips. It was not gentle nor polite, her laughter was bright and loud, pulling the attention of a few other dancers, but Max could not bring himself to care. He adored it.

He adored her.

“I am quite the same,” She mused, “I cannot stand to lose.”

Max smiled before he could stop himself, “Neither can I.”

He walked himself around her, holding his right hand to her waist and the other to her opposite hand. They locked eyes, Max’s blood rushing to his ears. The shy smile she offered him from across the room melted into a genuine smile, larger than the former.

Far more beautiful.

The music ended with a soft chord, the floor breaking apart to clap. Max slowly moved from her, unable to fight the need any longer, his eyes still trained on hers. They clapped, but the moment the applause died down, he took her hand in his. The walk back to the group was nearly a crawl.

He did not wish to leave her side.

They arrived sooner than he wished, but the words came just as quickly.

“May -” He nearly forgot himself, “May I call upon you? Perhaps…tomorrow?”

“Yes,” She breathed, still holding onto his hand, “I would like that very much.”

He looked down at their hands and waited for her to pull back from him. She did with a blush moving across her cheeks, and Max was unable to do anything but return it.

He felt like a boy, with his heart thundering within his chest, but - they locked eyes once more, the infinite land of understanding between them, surrounding them - nothing could ever feel more right.

_____________________

A/N:This work has been cross-posted on Wattpad and AO3. All are under the name XDACTED. Thank you for reading and feel free to request fics about any of the drivers <3

also, yes, there are geographical inaccuracies, but let's all just have fun and ignore them kay??? and if you guys like this and want me to continue this with the rest of the drivers, let me know

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testrella · 23 hours

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CRAZY RICH ASIANS..! G. SATORU X READER

𝜗𝜚 SYNOPSIS 𝜗𝜚

since the beginning of japan, the gojo clan has always been wealthy. the clan brought their money to rural japan and built from the bottom up, making them the landlords of half of japan.

gojo satoru, the heir to everything, finds himself in a difficult position as he fell for somebody who his family would never approve. yet, he cannot find himself to leave as you are the first girl who isn’t interested in his family’s wealth.

STARRING…

𝜗𝜚 | Y/N

“ let me check my bank account really quick! “

𝜗𝜚 | SATORU GOJO

“ my family practically owns half japan, paying your rent won’t hurt my wallet. “

𝜗𝜚 | SUGURU GETO

“ satoru? he’s never had any luck with women.. you might be the first. “

𝜗𝜚 | IEIRI SHOKO

“ he paid for my pre med tuition. he’d kill me if he found out i cheated my way through university. “

𝜗𝜚 | MEGUMI FUSHIGURO

“ NO IM NOT HIS SON. ”

𝜗𝜚 | RYOMEN SUKUNA

“ y/n, i can give you more than whatever he is offering you. come back. “

𝜗𝜚 CHAPTERS 𝜗𝜚

𝜗𝜚 | PROLOGUE

𝜗𝜚 | ONE : fight! fight! fight!

𝜗𝜚 | TWO : rare sighting

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lis-likes-fics · 3 days

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Perfection

Pairings: Spencer Reid x bau!adhd!Reader Word Count: 2.6k words Warnings: Mentions of rape, mentions of murder, dead body, crime scene, descriptions of gore, typical Criminals Minds stuff, character with ADHD, mentions of medication... A/N: This is a little more self-indulgent than I meant for it to be, but I do want to point out that this is some of my experience with ADHD, so I'm not just writing random stuff. It is slightly exaggerated, but I also say that about everything I do and it is pointed out that this is based off an off day.

The long alleyway makes for a nice crime scene, specifically because, despite the busy streets of this city, it's secluded and easy to overlook. It's not too small that the police team cannot fit, but it's small enough that you couldn't cram a really small building into the space. You don’t know how that’s relevant, but somehow it is.

The scene is relatively fresh, the latest of three that brought the BAU to the case. The police handling the scene had it cleared off for you, Spencer, and Derek to examine, via Hotch’s orders.

Spencer's watching you because he loves watching you, and because you're a little off today. There's something about the way you shuffle on your feet or the way you chew on the dead skin of your lip that he finds peculiar. To be fair, you're like this a lot, but today your symptoms are more obvious than usual.

Your eyes scan over the scene with a million different thoughts rushing through your head, less than fifty percent of them actually coherent and fit for conversation.

The three of you spitball ideas back and forth as you look at the man laying cold on the concrete. He's white, lean with light hair and a relatively thin frame. He's nothing like the other two victims, who's physical profiles were all over the place. The only thing they have in common with one another is a single occupation—male prostitution. While this and the first worked on the streets, the second’s job actually took place within a gay strip club a few blocks away from here.

He's got a starting blow to the back of the head, like the other two, and a number of bad bruising and heavy brutality to the rest with overkill to the chest, hands, and genitals. The message feels clear, but there's something a little off.

“Judging by the position of the body,” you speak, your hands restless, “and the way the weapon is discarded, I think our unsub snuck up on our victim in a blitz attack, hit him with the lead pipe, and ran that way.”

You don't point in any particular direction. Spencer glances up from his spot crouched next to the body. Your eyes are stuck on the bloody pipe several feet away from the body toward the secluded area around the back of the building that leads to more secluded walkways through more alleyways.

There is a long pause where they wait for you to explain, but you never do. Spencer thinks you look far off as he examines your face. Derek looks at you, his brow furrowed as he glances around. “Which way?”

“What?” you hum, looking up at him.

Derek elaborates, “Which way did the unsub go?”

It’s your turn to furrow your brow, turning the thin ring on your middle finger. “Did I say something about the unsub?”

Spencer stands, moving over to your side without spending too much time looking at your face. He doesn't want you to feel dumb or awkward, because he loves you and you're just a little forgetful sometimes.

“Yes,” he says in no particular way. “You said the unsub blitzed the victim and ran. Which way did he run?”

He achieves his goal, because you seem to make an “Oh, duh!” face before pointing in the direction of the street. “That way.”

He follows your finger, his brows knitting together. “That way toward the street?” He looks at the pipe, sitting in the exact opposite direction, like they ran and dropped it. “The pipe looks like he'd run the other way to avoid the street. Why do you think he ran toward?” It's a genuine question.

“To throw us off,” you shrug. “It's riskier to go toward the street, but it's also less suspicious than walking alone in the opposite direction where someone could see you and the victim and assume fault.”

He hums. You add on, speaking as quickly as Spencer usually does, “It also means he looks normal enough that he blends in with the crowd. Someone would see a strange figure coming out of a dark alley, no one would really notice a passerby turning a corner. And if this is a popular spot, it's too loud to hear anything going on all the way back here anyway, or no one thinks much of grunting noises when they do hear it.”

You trail off at the end, tight brows staring at the corpse. Derek shrugs, “But what was our victim doing all the way over here in the first pla–”

“There's something in his mouth,” you interrupt accidentally.

“What?”

You kneel down, taking the offered gloves from Spencer and putting them on. You open his mouth just a slight, spotting the white sticking out from under his tongue. Upon seeing it, both of the boys furrow their brows and tilt their heads. Spencer hands you some tweezers he'd borrowed from forensics for this reason.

Carefully, without disturbing the body as much as possible, you remove the strange object from under the tongue. It's a tiny slip of paper, folded up very small and still a little damp from saliva and any other bodily fluids it may have come in contact with. You unfold it.

“‘Unclean’,” Spencer reads from over your shoulder.

“That makes sense for the victimology mixed with the profile. He's a male prostitute,” Derek points out.

“Which explains the locale,” you say, rocking back and forth on your heels.

“What?”

“The locale,” you look up. “You asked why he was here. He must have been working, lured down here by the unsub, who waited for him to turn his back before he struck.”

Spencer agrees, taking a picture of the slip to send to Hotch. “He was killed at night. The streets are crowded, easy to slip into and not be seen. It's more risky to stray by yourself. What you said makes sense.”

You look up at him, standing to your full height again. “What did I say?” There you go again.

Morgan speaks up, “What you said about him runnin’ toward the street.”

Confusion passes your mind momentarily. “He ran toward the street.” You don't say it like a question, you say it like you're trying to back yourself up on it.

“That's what you said,” he insists.

You remember thinking that, but you don't remember saying that out loud.

Spencer swoops in like your hero, brushing his knuckles against the side of your arm. “Remember? You said,” he licks his lips, “ ‘it's riskier to go toward the street, but it's also less suspicious than walking alone in the opposite direction where someone could see you and the victim and assume fault.’ ”

You nod, remembering his word-by-word recitation as you watch him. “Yeah. I did say that.” You flag down one of the forensics workers to bag the evidence. She does so, taking your contaminated gloves with her as she leaves. You squirt a hefty amount of hand sanitizer on your hands from its place on your belt loop. “This is the first victim who's been left behind with a note, right?”

“Yes, autopsy results found nothing like this on the other victims.”

“If the victim was working when he was attacked, it’s possible that, paired with the brutality of the assault and the note left behind, our unsub may be experiencing some kind of internalized homophobia.” You trail off at the end.

Derek shrugs, looking down at the body. “There’s no evidence of sexual assault. Not on the other victims, at least.”

“How old do you think this building is?”

Spencer looks at you, your eyes scanning the wall of one of the buildings you’re between. Your bottom lip is pulled between your teeth, picking at the dead skin again. He thinks you’re cute.

“Focus, honeybun,” Derek reminds you, pulling your attention again.

“Sorry.”

“Judging by the faded color and uneven edges of the brick, and the decay in the mortar,” Spencer says, “I’d say this building is at least 50 years old. Well kept at one point and then let go not long after its production.”

You nod along slowly, taking in the information with a hum. “That’s cool…” Now that that’s out of your mind, you think for a moment. What were you saying again? Spencer watches your eyes light up. “Oh!” You turn to Derek. “He’s obviously confrontational, but he may still be very insecure in his ability and, thus, have to make up for his pent up energy with an excess of violence. Homophobia would explain the obliteration of the chest, hands, and especially the genitalia.”

Derek raises a brow. “What?”

“You asked about sexual assault,” you shrug. “If he continues to escalate above the note, we may see these words carved into the skin as a substitute for sexual violence, or even just blatant rape activity.”

Derek thinks about that, considering your analysis with a nodding head. He sighs and hums, “Alright, I’ll talk to Hotch.” He begins to turn away, grabbing his phone.

Spencer thinks you may have gotten distracted again because you ask, “Did I do something wrong?”

Derek looks back at you, shaking his head and flashing you one of his charming smiles. “No, honeybun, you’re perfect.”

“Oh.”

He leaves to take that call. You start to walk after him and Spencer gently takes your hand. You turn to face him, confused at first but giving him a sweet smile only a second later. “Are you okay?” he asks gently, his voice soft.

You tilt your head, “What do you mean?”

Spencer shrugs, taking your other hand just to rub his thumbs over your knuckles. “You’re hyper today, a little more distracted.”

As if proving his point, you begin shifting back and forth on your feet, shrugging and then shaking your head at the same time. “I’m okay,” you assure him, squeezing his hands gently. “I haven’t taken my medication in a couple days.”

He furrows his brow, suddenly a little worried. “Why not?”

“Didn’t feel like it. Also, I forgot it.” That makes sense. Spencer makes a mental note to remind you to take them as soon as you get back home. “But I’m okay, prommy.”

He smiles. “Prommy?”

“Promise,” you clarify, letting both your hands down so you can swing his from side to side. He lets you.

“I know what you mean,” he says. Though he knows he should probably be more professional because you’re both in public and leaving a crime scene (and Hotch might reprimand the both of you for it if he saw) he raises a hand to cradle your cheek because he doesn’t care. He just wants you to feel safe and loved. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

You nod definitely. “I’m good.”

“Okay,” The way he says it is soft, as soft as a kiss to your forehead or a brush of his knuckles on your skin. “You know, I love you, right?”

You nod, smiling at him like he’s the world—because he is. “Yeah. I love you, too, honey.” You kiss his cheek quickly and pat it. You probably shouldn’t have done it right then, but you did, and you don’t regret it for even a moment.

Spencer’s just happy you know he loves you. “Okay,” he says. “Let’s go before Morgan leaves us.” He takes your hand as you both begin walking. He swings your joined hands, just as he knows you like it.

“He wouldn’t leave me,” you shake your head. “He likes me too much.”

Spencer chuckles. “Everyone likes you.”

“Not everyone.”

He looks at you, furrowing his brow. “Who doesn’t like you?”

“I don’t know,” you shrug. And then immediately after, “Why does the sun look yellow? Isn’t it supposed to be white or something? I heard that somewhere.”

Spencer is happy to answer your questions as he opens the car door for you. Derek is already sitting in the front, his hands on the wheel. The passenger’s seat is empty, but Spencer sits in the back with you. You both speak gently so you’re not disturbing Derek. “The Earth’s atmosphere scatters blue light more efficiently than red light, so the slight deficit in blue light means the eye perceives the color of the sun as yellow. But, yes, the sun is actually white.”

“That’s cool,” you mumble. “I think sharks would look cool as hell with piercings. Do you?”

“I do,” Spencer chuckles. In the front seat, Derek shakes his head and smiles to himself, amused by your conversation.

“Did you know that sharks don’t have bones, so when they die, the saltwater dissolves their bodies so the only thing that’s left is their teeth?” You begin ranting, absent-mindedly picking at dirty under your nails. “And also, their bodies are primarily made of cartilage and connective tissue. It’s lighter than bone and keeps them flamboyant. Also, their skin has a similar feel to sandpaper.”

When you ramble, you sound like Spencer. You spend so much time with him and endorse his info dumps so much that you take on his speech style when you go on info dumps of your own. Spencer loves this because he knows that people tend to mimic the people they love as a sign of affection, and you mimic him a lot more than you think.

He also knew about all your shark facts, but he’s happy to listen. He smiles, “Is that what you were doing up late last night?”

You smile a little, turning away from him. “I got distracted.”

“What’s your thought process behind getting from the sun to sharks?” he wonders. “I’m curious.”

You shrug. “Well, you said your thing and I said it was cool. And then I remembered a post I saw that sharks would be cool with piercings. Then I remembered my shark things.” You glance down at your fingers, bringing them to your lips as you notice a tiny part at the very edge of the nail where it would probably tear off. “I just think sharks are cool,” you mumble around your finger.

“They are cool,” he says. He doesn’t want you to accidentally hurt yourself so he adds on, “Will you hold my hand? It’s a little cold.”

You look down at them, “Yeah.” With a nod, you take his hand between both of yours and let them warm his back up. They’re a bit chilly but they don’t feel that cold to you. You hold them anyway, because you love holding his hand. You intertwine your fingers with his and then cover what’s left.

“Thank you, sweetheart,” he says. He thinks for a moment. “Did you eat today?”

You nod, still watching his hand as you turn it to look at his palm. You gently trace the lines of it, forgetting for the moment that he’d wanted you to warm his hand up for him. But, as usual, he doesn’t mind. “I had a cereal bar this morning. One of those Coco Puff ones. They’re like Rice Krispy Treats.” He doesn’t think that’s sustainable. “And, before you ask, I did have water.”

He smiles. “I know. I told you to drink some before we left. You hungry?”

You shake your head, “Not really.”

“You want a snack?” he compromises, hoping—and knowing—you’ll say yes.

“Yes, please.”

“Okay,” he hums. “We’ll grab one on the way back.” Derek nods gently, remembering to do just that. It will only take a moment.

“Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Spencer says, his voice lowering to a whisper. He knows Derek can still hear him, but he always just wants to whisper to you.

You look up at him, “For what?”

“Being so perfect.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes but ultimately smiling at the warmth in your chest. “You’re so cheesy, Spencer Reid.”

He’ll gladly be cheesy for you.

Criminal Minds taglist: @queermaxwooo @mdanon027 @lilianhallee @hpstuff244444 @thegr8estpuff @niktwazny303 @bubbles2300 Tag yourself here...

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #female reader #reader insert #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction

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getonite · 3 days

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WINDBREAKER (SATORU NII) DRABBLE

f!reader ; this was supposed to be like two paragraphs of a scenario, not a while drabble. but i love hayato suo and all of windbreaker, so...

hayato suo is the type to walk into furin or kotoha's cafe littered in lipstick stains on his face, but he acts like it's nothing. sakura's face is the color of one, and nirei mirrors it, though they both stare intently at him.

the only one to speak up is kotoha and she's like, "you've got a little...something, on your face. specifically, lipstick."

and suo will be like, "oh! do i?" his signature bright ass smile is on his face as he acts like: (1) he didn't ask you to do it and (2) that he was completely unaware of the bright red lipstick pressed to his lips, cheeks, and neck. "ah~i guess my pretty girl got carried away."

"p-pretty girl?" nirei stumbles.

hayato would rest his face on his propped up arm. "mhm, my girlfriend silly!"

"GIRLFRIEND?!"

"a girlfriend, huh?"

"YOU, HAVE A GIRLFRIEND?!?"

"of course, i, have a girlfriend sakura-san," he has a smile on his face, his eyes shut and mouth curled tightly upwards, "what is that supposed to mean, hm?"

by no means is suo ugly, but his personality is not something any of the furin boys thought would be dateable. sakura turns away, not opening his mouth anymore, just sitting across from suo with blush etched on his face.

the bell to the cafe rings and the three boys sitting at the table look at the door. "speaking of girlfriend..." hayato whispers.

kotoha, nirei, and sakura look to see you, who has got to be the prettiest girl in town. the boys jaws are wide open and hayato only laughs as he stands up to greet you. "you were being serious?!" sakura says with shock.

hayato frowns, turning to face him. "did you think i was lying?"

"yes."

"kinda."

"sorta."

"hey, that's not very nice!"

#𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐒 .ᐟ #hayato suo #windbreaker (satoru nii)#windbreaker anime #wind breaker #hayato suo x reader #hayato suo fluff #hayato suo drabble #hayato suo x you #wind breaker x reader #wind breaker fluff #x female reader #fem reader #female reader

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yandere-writer-momo · 3 days

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Yandere Short Stories:

I Bet on Losing Dogs

Yandere Bodyguard x Fem Model Reader

TW: toxic relationship, yandere themes, delusional behavior, endless and unbreakable cycle, Angst, mentioned smut, friends with benefits, etc.

“Sie sind so schön (you’re so beautiful).” Günter smiled into the kiss he placed on (your name)’s bare shoulder. His muscular arms wrapped around her while his hands massaged her back. Günter was thrilled she allowed him into her bed again after, yet another, heart break.

“You know I don’t speak German.” (Your name) grumbled into her pillow. The young woman knew it was a horrible mistake to always bring Günter into her bed, but he never failed to make her feel desired.

“Mein Liebling, how about I fetch us some breakfast?” Günter rose up from the bed so he could slip on his boxers and pants. (Your name) blushed at how muscular his body was, but she knew all she felt towards her bodyguard was lust. Günter was far too possessive to be her partner… yet she feared being alone.

Günter was a selfless lover who always put her needs before his own. It didn’t matter that his appearance was intimidating, this man could make her come undone in minutes. He knew everything about her, facts she hadn’t even shared with her closest of friends.

“That sounds lovely, thank you-“ (your name) was shocked when Günter placed a kiss on the top of her forehead.

“Ich liebe dich.” Günter’s voice was barely above a whisper. His icy orbs filled with so much love, (your name) thought she would drown. Perhaps she had underestimated Günter’s devotion to her… because although she spoke no German, she knew he had told her that he loved her. This man oozed love from the cracks of his very soul and a powerful desire to be loved in return. It was overwhelming.

“I know you do. (Your name) gave him the faintest of smiles, her eyes filled with sadness. All of her relationships ended up doomed, all but Günter. And this man’s desperation to be loved back tugged at her heartstrings.

Was it wrong to want to bet all of her money on this losing dog?

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cattjull · 2 days

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'𝔠𝔞𝔲𝔰𝔢 𝔦 𝔨𝔫𝔬𝔴 𝔱𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔦𝔱'𝔰 𝔡𝔢𝔩𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔱𝔢

bsf!ellie x reader!!

SUMMARY: You get ready to a party with your best friend, but acting like you don't like her will be more difficult than ever tonight.

CW: r! is afab, r! shows her tits to ellie (?), alcohol game, and I think that´s all.

A/N: This took me forever to write but I really really liked how it turned out

PROMISE OF A DRUNK— It was kind of difficult to bring Ellie to a party. She would always complain about it being just loud music, alcohol and sex; but what's all that called together if not fun?

Probably what you most liked about parties was that you could get drunk and tell Ellie all you thought about her,how much you liked her, how hot she was, how much you loved seeing her with that reading glasses she wore sometimes... Because you could deny everything the next day. "I said that? what?" "I didn't do that" (whatever it was, yes you did) "Nah I don't trust you. I'm not the type to say that", you would say. It would seem weird for others but only you (and Ellie) knew how difficult it was to not confess to your best friend in the middle of watching a movie, or making bracelets, or having a sleepover. So yeah, sometimes getting drunk was a scape way to all your pretending.

After convincing Ellie to go to tonight's party, as you always did, she came around to you house in black jeans, a white tank top and a black leather jacket that—you'd never admit, made you go FERAL. The auburn watched you as you showed her your possible outfits: skirts and going out tops. You kinda noticed how she stared at some part (2 parts, if you want me to specify) of your body. Far from feeling harassed, you kinda enjoyed Ellie's gaze, like... She was just your best friend who liked watching you(r tits) and you were her best friend who liked... Her. So why not enjoying it?

"Oh, and-" you lifted your top, leaving your braless tits exposed to the air. "How are them? Like, they look good?" Her expression was completely shocked and in the matter of seconds her face turned red like a tomato. Completely.

"I, uh... They're good, yeah." She said and immediately covered her face with her hand and looked away, focusing her gaze in the floral pattern of your blanket.

"You didn't even look." You laughed. Then she turned to see your tits and the colour in her face intensified, if that was even possible. After like five seconds of being hypnotised, she finally looked up at your eyes.

"Good." She nodded. "Are you happy now?"

"I think you're the happy one here." You chuckled to yourself and took off the top completely, ready to try another outfit.

With Ellie's help you chose a midnight blue top with some black skirt and boots you didn't put on yet. Now it was makeup time. After less than 10 minutes, she started getting bored.

"When will you finish?"

"Not now."

She whined. Twenty minutes later, your sparkly blue makeup was done and when you turned around, you found Ellie sleeping, spread in your bed and a dumb smile formed in your lips. You sat beside her and looked at her eyelashes for a second, then at her lips. Oh, her lips. Impulsively, you leaned in and kissed her.

Her forehead. Because it didn't matter how bad you wanted to kiss her lips and how you dreamed about it (asleep or not), you couldn't do something she didn't allow you to, you just weren't able to. Maybe you loved her too much. You leaned in, getting your mouth close to her ear. You blew her, causing her to wake up suddenly and to sit up with a little scream.

"Hey! It's not fu- oh" Her almost inexistent amount of annoyance was replaced by... Something? when she saw your makeup. "Woah. You always surprise me." Her lips were parted now.

"I know." you shrugged cockily. "Are my eyelashes symmetrical?" You got closer and blinked a few times, looking at her beautiful green eyes. She couldn't help it and looked down at your tits. She dug her own grave and she knew it but come on, she couldn't help herself. And you obviously noticed this.

"My eyelashes." You repeated to Ellie in a teasing tone.

"I'm looking at your eyelashes!" She protested as her emerald gaze shifted to your eyes again. "They're symmetrical."

"The eyelashes too?" She hit your leg, a slight blush creeping onto her beautiful freckled cheeks.

"Shut up." Her reaction made you chuckle.

"Can i do your makeup?"

"Uh, just nothing weird."

"Just eyeliner?"

"Yeah, that will be good."

"Sit against the headboard please." Ellie obeyed you. She knew that was an excuse to sit on her lap, but she wanted you to so...

You took the bag from your night table, ready to do your job. You sat on her lap, with your legs on each side of that pretty black jeans of hers.

"Look upside." Ellie did as you said and you started doing your job.

You felt your cheeks turning a completely different colour when Ellie placed her hands in your waist. You wouldn't admit how nervous you got because of that, and Ellie wouldn't admit she too even though she was the one who made the move. While you traced small lines all around Ellie's eye line, you couldn't help but notice she had gotten red as well. Crimson red. Even though you would've loved to mock her about that, you were in the same position as her so you shut up, both of you enjoying the closeness and at the same time pretending absolutely nothing was going on between you, even knowing that if one of you pulled the other girl's face closer in a kiss none of you would pull back in a long, long time.

You kept doing her eyeliner, trying to ignore the indecent thoughts of Ellie that crossed your mind, mashing up the images of Ellie when she was changing in the same room as you with right now where you sat on her with some Twitter videos you'd never admit you watched. She's your best friend and just your best friend. She's your best friend and just your best friend. She's your best friend and just your best friend, you repeated mentally trying to sound convincing. After like 5 minutes you were done, and with a phew you announced you were done.

"I thought I was gonna screw it."

"Me too." Ellie received a small hit in her arm.

"Hey!" You complained.

"I was joking, you're incredible." She said as she sobbed her arm.

"Oh, don't flirt with me now."

"You're delusional." You smiled at that.

"Shut up. Are we going to the party now?"

You took an Uber to the house of someone you didn't actually know, but you were invited by some friend anyways.

In the way there, you leaned your head in Ellie's shoulder with tranquility. You thought that maybe, if you had done something impulsive when doing her eyeliner, probably both of you would've been tense now, but that didn't happen and that wasn't even important to you right now because, come on, you were in Ellie's shoulder and her head was leaning on yours. Yeah, you used to do that but that didn't mean you couldn't get nervous, and getting nervous didn't mean Ellie would notice that. (Did it?)

12 pm

Music came from the inside of the luxury building, inviting you to come inside. The night was young and there wasn't any drunk people yet, not enough to notice.

You entered inside the building and in the kitchen you could see one of your friends, Dina, which was Ellie's best friend and when she saw you immediately gestured for the two of you to join the group she was with with a friendly expression.

"We'll have fun." You said and dragged Ellie with you by her hand as if she didn't know how to walk by herself.

2 am.

The vodka bottle, almost in the half now, rested in the middle of the round. If you didn't want to answer a question, two sips. If you didn't want to fulfill the dare, four sips.

"Truth." The blonde named Lacy said tilting her head to the side with a smirk.

"Who do you like?" Jesse asked.

"Oh come on." You complained about the same basic question everyone always make in truth or dare, interrupting; half of your politeness always faded away with a little of alcohol in your system. "Ask something interesting."

"Shut up. It's interesting." Jesse defended himself.

"Sure."

"Well, I like some girl who has short hair and is right here." She answered when your little argument with Jesse finished, looked at Ellie and winking at her.

If Ellie had been sober, she would have frozen and stay awkwardly silent. But she wasn't, so she smirked with a noticeable red face, looking the girl she didn't know down, and scratched her ear. If you had been sober, you would have dissimulated and tease your friend about the situation. But you wasn't, so you glared at the girl with the most pure hatred before shifting your gaze to Ellie. YOUR Ellie.

You placed your hand in the Auburn's thigh casually, something Lacy didn't overlook. And she shouldn't, you were threatening the hell out of her.

Ellie is mine. Stay away. As simple as that. Ellie looked at you with a surprised smile.

"Oh?" She got closer, you were frozen at this and when your soul came back to your body she was whispering in your ear. "Are you jealous baby? Is that why you touch me like that? Because I think she likes me."

She blabbed with a dumb smile. What did she call you? BABY? Your face was burning now and all you hoped (Besides Lacy's death) was that Ellie didn't notice your nervousness, which you were almost 100% sure overflowed your body, being almost palpable.

"I'm not." You said taking credit away from the situation. Your hand still rested in Ellie's thigh, wishing to go up. Now was Lacy's turn, who looked at you like you invented global warming.

"Truth or dare, Els?" Sorry? Els? Come on, only you called her like that. And Dina sometimes. Who the fuck did she think she was? Just going there and calling your girlfriend like that as if-

"Dare." She smirked.

"I dare you to kiss me." OH NO YOU FUCKING-, you shouted in your head as your poor knuckles turned white because of how tight you were clenching your fists. Ellie came closer to... The bottle? She directed it to her mouth and drank four sips, making a disgust expression.

"Sorry girl, I'm taken." She smiled at her before sitting beside you again. Now she was the one touching your thigh, sending shivers all over your leg.

"Taken?" You asked with true curiosity.

"By you." A silly smile appeared on her lips. She got closer in an attempt to kiss you.

"What are you doing?" You giggled at Ellie's interest for you, which she only showed when she was this drunk or talking between dreams, two things you were used to pretend that didn't happen because god it would be so awkward for Ellie to tell her about that, to confront her, to ask her if she had any actual feelings for you. You moved your head to the side so she ended up kissing your cheek. You didn't even perceive if she behaved like this JUST because of the alcohol or if she actually liked you and it was more difficult to hide it after some drinks but you decided to not think about it much, not now. Ellie rand her hand down your thigh slightly, squeezing it a little.

"Truth or dare?" The Auburn asked you.

"Truth."

"Do you like me?"

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yoursweetwife · 19 hours

Text

Synopsis: Aventurine accidentally finds out that you work in a cafe, and this meeting leaves a very good impression.

warning: reader wears dress, but pronouns are not specified, mention of Ratio, fluff, Aventurine in love, teasing , bad english

Aventurine walked into a cafe, hoping to relax after a long day. It wasn't often that he visited such places, but he had heard a lot of positive reviews about this cafe, and it was never too late to try something new.

He took off his glasses and began to examine the interior. Almost immediately his gaze settled on a familiar face. His classmate is wearing a beautiful black dress, decorated with ruffles and bows. He didn’t expect to see you here at all, although now he understood why you were so often in a hurry to leave.

For the first time in his life, he was glad to be unnoticed. Finding an empty seat by the window, he watched as you moved between tables, taking orders and chatting pleasantly with clients.

Aventurine found himself staring at your face illuminated by the sun for too long, which made you even more ethereal in his eyes.

He saw how you habitually covered mouth with your palm, laughing at the client’s words. What a pity that from his place he could not clearly hear your laughter.

As you finished your conversation with the client, your eyes met neon purple irises, you couldn't be more unlucky than you were today.

You stared at the blonde in shock, he was the last person you expected to see in this place. This is a rather inconspicuous cafe, and Aventurine could afford much more luxurious places.

He often visited casinos and other unpleasant places, but despite this, you and he had a good relationship, you would even dare to call you friends. But he was still a big tease, and this situation would give him more reasons to not let you live in peace.

Aventurine couldn't help but laugh when he saw your soft expression change to one of confusion. He playfully looked at your approaching figure, twirling a poker chip in his hand.

"The reviews didn't lie, this place really is a real find."

He leaned back on the couch and stared at you with his piercing violet eyes. You could never stop admiring them.

“Aventurine, what are you doing here? Have you lost all your money gambling, that’s why you came here?”

You asked jokingly, placing your hands on your hips. There seemed to be no limit to his balance sheet, with purchases and many parties worth several million, if not more.

Hearing the question, Aventurine raised his eyebrows and a mischievous grin spread across his face. The teasing tone in his voice was obvious.

“Oh, don’t make me laugh, [name]. Of course, I'm here for the atmosphere and amazing service."

He waved his hand in front of him, his eyes sparkling with amusement. Aventurine couldn't help but feel awe at the sight.

Aventurine looked around the cafe, as if pondering his next words. When he turned back to you, his expression became more serious.

“Maybe there is a special service for good clients like me?.”

Aventurine winked, his smile never faltered.

You rolled your eyes playfully and placed the menu right in front of him. As attractive as Aventurine was, his cocky demeanor was damn annoying.

He was also a well-known playboy, so you were clearly not the first or last person he flirted with, although now he was rarely seen among girls. When you asked him about it, he simply said he was "bored." Even Ratio noticed this, although your blue-haired friend was not distinguished by the desire to delve into Aventurine’s love affairs.

"Better place an order or I'll report the harassment to security guard."

Aventurine laughed lightheartedly and waved his hand as if it didn't matter.

"Relax, honey, it's just a joke. I would never force you to do something against your will."

He rested his cheek on his palm and looked at you mysteriously. Another problem with being friends with Aventurine, you never know what he's thinking, but you really didn't have time to deal with that at work. Fortunately, there were almost no visitors.

"Would you like me to pick you up after work?"

You tilted your head, looking at the blonde questioningly. A spectacle that will not leave anyone indifferent, Aventurin is sure.

"B-but why?"

"Why not? We could visit a couple of nice places. Like a shopping center that recently opened or a park, even that museum you were talking about!"

Your cheeks burned when Aventurine said about the museum. It just slipped out of your mouth during the conversation; to be honest, you didn't think he was even listening to you at that moment.

“You can’t stand museums, you called them temples of boredom and dust, if I remember correctly.”

Aventurine shrugged, remembering how he was hit by your mutual friend Ratio with a very heavy book when he said this in front of him.. The blonde scratched the back of his head and his face softened as he looked up again.

“I really don’t understand what’s interesting about naked bodies or stones, but for your sake I’m willing to endure it.”

You could feel your cheeks burning, and Aventurine saw it too, but didn’t show it. Your hands played with the sleeve of your uniform to clear your thoughts a little, why did Aventurine even have to be so cute? You tucked your hair behind your ear and took a deep breath.

"At six. I finish at six today."

Aventurine blinked several times, processing the new information. Suddenly the biggest smile you had ever seen appeared on his face. He stood up from his seat and took your hand, squeezing it gently.

“Great! Until evening then? I need to buy tickets, I don’t want unnecessary delays to spoil the mood!”

Aventurine continued to wave even when he was outside the door. The poor guy almost fell on his back, running into a random passerby.

You laughed softly and shook your head, then your gaze shifted to the menu, which he hadn't even touched. The chip landed on the table with a loud thud, and he was so excited that he forgot his favorite chip.

You twirled the chip between your fingers, not noticing that you were looking at it for too long, until the bell above the door rang, signaling a new client.

Can you return the chip later during your...date?

#hsr x reader #aventurine x reader #honkai star rail x reader #female reader #aventurine #hsr #aventurine fluff

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jadestone2 · 1 day

Text

You got lipstick on my face!

Theme: sfw

Summary: kissing your husband, forgetting you had lipstick on.

Pair: Johnny Cage, Bi-Han, Kuai Liang, Liu Kang, Kenshi Takahashi, Kung Lao, Raiden, Rain, Smoke, Geras, Syzoth, Shang Tsung x chubby reader

Tw: down-bad men, they are after you

A/n I’ve checked my inbox, you guys are gonna make me cry with all the compliment

You were extremely excited to go on a date with your husband, with all the work he has, there is barely any time left for you both! You put on lipstick to enchant your lips even more, which was a mistake. You enjoyed pressing kisses on your husband, which is why lipstick should be a no to you

Johnny doesn’t give two shits, he’ll walk around with bunch’s of lipstick stains on his face! It’s a trophy for him, his wife gave him kisses! He ignores any weirded stares he’s given, let them stare, he’s famous after all. But he isn’t giving them a wink of his attention, he’s only staring at how good you look in that dress. You’ll be taking tons of photos, many where Johnny has his hand “sneakily” on your plush hips. Scold him, not like he’s listening when he gets a great view of your body

Bi-Han will stare at you, you could see the soft blush on his cheeks. You giggle, attempting to wipe away the lipstick stain which only spreads it even more. You smile innocently when he asks if you got it off, nodding your head. He’s confused, why are people laughing when he walks by or has a smile? You almost panic when he says he’s going to the restroom, he definitely is going to know. The moment he came back out, his face was red, but the lipstick stains are still there. Now matter how cold he could act, he still enjoys your affection.

Kuai Liang would be a blushy mess, but he still loves it. He would never be uncomfortable with the affection you give him, a little hesitant to walk around with lipstick marks. But when you tried to wipe it off, he dodged the wet paper towel. He’ll happily walk around, now everyone knows your his and he is yours. Gets embarrassed when Smoke comes over and teases you both, patting your husband's shoulder before scrambling off before Bi-Han could scold him.

Liu kang is so confused, what makes his face feel sticky? He swears he knows what lipstick is, but he’s just lying. You give him the simplest explanation, but he still doesn’t know why you kissed his face. But a kiss is a kiss, he’s happy! Happily walks around with red lipstick on his face, it’s his pride! Nobody would even look his way, they realize how happy he is with it. He has much respect, he expects that same amount of respect even when he looks a bit goofy.

Kenshi felt so awkward in that moment, it’s not that he doesn’t love you! You're going to give the poor man a heart attack! His blindfold didn’t help his case, his face bright red. As much as you wanted to tell him it’s fine to wipe off the lipstick, he didn’t want to! Although he regrets going out in public, Johnny was there laughing his ass off when he saw Kenshi. Kenshi will never live this off, Johnny somehow took a photo fast before Kenshi could even grab his phone. They made a bet, it doesn’t concern you, the sight of Kenshi’s friendship with Johnny was funny to you. Kenshi would grumble under his breath, resting his head on your shoulder. You owe him cuddles for a month.

Kung Lao was shocked for a second, before his flirty smirk came back. Are you sure you want to play this game with him? You always were the one who’s blushing at the end of this game, his hand gently rubs at your cheek. You shriek, attempting to get away from your husband who had ill intentions now. Somehow you got him to leave the house, without any trouble. Keep an eye on his hands, he’ll attempt to squeeze anything he can get his hand on. Don’t be shy, smack his hands, stop him from doing something that will make you flustered. If he notices how flustered you are, he would chuckle and place his hat on your head. Covering you from the curious looks from watchers, in the end, he always wins this little game. He’ll make it up to you, maybe a dance?

Raiden chuckles, a cheesy smile on his face. He didn’t grow up with Kung Lao for no reason, they share similar traits. He knows exactly how to make you flustered, he learnt it from his best bud. Though you have a chance to reverse the order, you can make him blush! Just as he was about to do something flirty, you smash your lips against his. There goes another lipstick mark, and now his face is red in embarrassment. He’ll be blushing the entire time you're out, he can’t stop thinking about your kisses! Kung Lao definitely chuckled when he saw how blushy Raiden was, they were still two different people after all.

Rain is very embarrassed, don’t embarrass him, he wants to be super cool! He wants to maintain his title, you just make him seem like a sucker for attention. Which is, he instantly melts when you kiss his face. He chuckles, leaning closer for your touch. You're the only person who can see him without, let alone press kisses to his face. He wouldn’t go out anymore, he’s desperate for more of your attention! Don’t you dare stop, give him more kisses or he might die! He’ll have you trapped underneath him, you're not allowed to leave until you give him your kisses!

Smoke is a giggling mess, his face bright red. Give him one of your lipstick, he wants to give you lipstick marks too! You both end up going at with lipstick stains on both of your faces, others would groan when they see you both. You guys acted like teenagers sometimes, doing chaotic and corny stuff together. Smoke couldn’t care less if his brothers saw you both, though Kuai Liang would chuckle while Bi-Han would scoff, but he was happy for his little brother.

Geras would be extremely confused, he’s never experienced affection. All he knows is that he likes the way it felt, his body seems to want more of whatever that was. Liu kang would chuckle if he saw the lipstick stains on Geras’s face, which is why he wants to stay home. He would have his eyes closed as you pepper more kisses to his face, you giggle at how cute your husband could be sometimes. He wants to ask why you did that, but he’ll ask later once he gets his fill of your affection. Just continue to pepper kisses to his face, it feels really nice.

Syzoth is confused but he’s smiling, he loves all the affection you give him. His tail would be wagging so fast, almost hitting your leg. His tail thumps loudly on the ground, thankfully there were no items near you or else they would have gone flying. His tail would be wagging for a while, he can’t help it! He’s so happy to receive any affection from you, you could almost hear the quiet purr coming from him. You now have to give all your attention to your greedy lizard husband

Shang Tsung would instantly dodge your touch, it’s a reflex. When he saw your face sadden, he instantly brought you close. He’d coo at you, rubbing your head gently. He presses his lips against yours, chuckling when you blush. His fingers would gently rub on your hips as you press kisses to his face. He’ll let you have your moment, but later he’ll be teasing you for this. His fingers gently trace your face, seeing the dumb smile on your face. You spend the rest of your night with your husband, being romantic to the point it was corny.

More mortal kombat cause I can’t get enough of these men

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cute-sucker · 2 days

Note

Hi! I wanna request a story of like kook reader having a crush on Rafe and her friends always warns her about his behaviors but she doesn’t care at all and continues to admire him and he definitely notices it but he’s so nonchalant and cold about it😭😭

rafe cameron was your world.

if it was up to you, the sun set on him, and the moon awakened when his face came into view. it was cheesy you knew, after all, you had been his neighbour forever, but you couldn't help but find yourself drawn to his behaviour. when either it was his looks or the cocky smile that he had. whatever it was, it was not okay.

well, you didn't see a problem with it. it was just a crush. just something to smile about sometimes, or think about. that's what you had promised some of your friends. but sometimes your friend mindy would tap your shoulder as she mouthed a soft "no," "no."

at a certain point, you had become wheezie's babysitter in hopes of getting closer to rafe. it was pathetic you knew, but wheezie was such a sweet girl that you loved it even more. days at tanyhill were filled with finger paintings and fairy tales. sometimes you would go all out and let wheezie cook, although that did entail both of you getting completely covered in flour. and that was how you met him. formally.

you had been smiling up at wheezie, as she told you the gingerbread cookies looked more crooked than usual. you had batted it off telling her that the two of you just had different styles. still you were covered in flour as rafe walked in. while you did have a small crush on him, you tried to ignore him as much as possible. if he was in a room, you walked out choking, blushing so hard. you were just so shy, you could barely say a word.

yet here you were on the floor as you giggled with wheezie. the two of you were tired. until a voice rang out.

"what the hell is going on? the place is a mess. shit."

you felt your heart race as you got up, while wheezie continued to roll on the floor telling you how this perspective of the world was wicked. finally, rafe came into view, eyes squinted as his eyebrows were furrowed. "who the hell are you?"

wheezie rolled her eyes, "oh my god, rafe can you be more embarrassing. she's my babysitter?" his expression stayed confused before he shrugged it off walking to the fridge, wheezie scoffed, "damn rafe do you even pay attention-"

"hey!" he snapped, swinging the fridge open to take out a carton of milk, a warning finger in the air, "don't swear."

at this wheezie scoffed, putting her hands on her hips, "you do it all the time, i don't know why i can't-"

"wheezie, i'm older than you," he interjected, and then he held the milk carton up to his lips. wheezie winced, making a disgusted face, as she pushed him away from the fridge. rafe stumbled away a satisfied grin on his face, ruffling wheezie's hair.

"ugh, boys you know," wheezie huffed, closing the fridge door with a bang.

finally wheezie looked up at you, almost as if she was realising you had said nothing and arched an eyebrow at your expression, placing a comforting pink manicured hand on your shoulder. it was humorous how the 13 year old was trying to make you feel better. her nails were still a shocking neon pink with sparkles.

"don't feel too bad. rafe is weird." the two of you left it at that before going back to making cookies.

˚❀༉‧₊˚.˚❀༉

"and then he came in, like all khakis, and that hot polo shirt," you giggled into your phone, kicking your feet. your friend mindy made a hurrupted sound on the phone, "i met him, like actually met him. why aren't you as excited about this?"

suddenly the phone went silent, and you could hear her soft breathing, "i dunno, i mean lets think about this rationally," she sighed out, and you groaned, turning over in bed. this meant that hard truths were going to be told.

"-okay i know you hate this, but you've babysitting for the camerons for what, two years?"

"three years," you corrected, before realising your error.

"yeah, three years and he hasn't noticed you at all? hasn't thought to ask, 'hey who's that rando girl staying in our home dad?' at all? they invited you to the midsommers, and to all of their parties. and he doesn't know you?"

you winced at that, before you pouted turning back on your back, "listen, i know it sounds bad, but i don't know. it'll happen."

you didn't think about it too hard, but there was a noticeable shift. you were putting a lot of care into changing into a cute dress, or painting your nails with extra care, or making sure you asked wheezie where he was. you didn't think it was obvious, but one time wheezie brought it up.

"do you have a crush on rafe?" she asked, stuffing her face with the burger you had made her.

you were taking a gulp out of your lemonade and almost spat it out, "wheezie! don't ask me things like that."

she blinked at you innocently, "i don't know what you're talking about. it's a valid question," and then she pouted, "i thought you'd tell me everything about yourself."

"well, no, i don't have a c-crush on your brother," you sputtered out, glaring at wheezie who gave you a sly grin. she quickly let go of the conversation, and the two of you were arguing over jenga and who had won.

quickly enough the days passed at the tanyhill, you had settled down into the belief that rafe would not notice you. who cared? you had a nice job, wheezie was a sweetheart and mr. cameron loved having you around. it was perfect all of it, until rafe approached it.

it was for a frat part you could tell. with his backward cap on, a fitted tee, he looked like a dream. the babysitting shift was over, and you were slowly walking outside only to see rafe revving up his motorcycle.

you found yourself flushing at the whole scene and murmured out a soft 'bye.' as usual, you were ignored, or maybe you were too quiet, goddamn it you were so stupid-

"hey!"

you turned around to see rafe cupping his face to yell at you. he had pulled off his helmet to talk to you.

"hey," you stuttered out, grasping at your tote bag. you looked like a total grandma, with your cardigan, and written-on sneakers, "what's up?"

"just heading off to a party, and uh," he scratched his head, squinting his eyes before tearing his eyes off his motorcycle to look back at you, "wanna come? it's at like nine."

"sure! of course. yeah, sure," you blurted out, flushing even more. he regarded you again, a well-natured smile flittering across his face.

"yea, i'll see you then."

so there it was. an invitation. rafe cameron had invited you to a party.

maybe this was a start of something.

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