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kissitbttr · 9 months

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holup— ima need a moment with my thoughts 🥵🥵 miguel sending reader’s ex a photo mid-sex is so petty and so him!! he would follow up with a video of himself giving you back shots (he’ll hide your face because he’s a gentlemen (๑˃̵ᴗ˂̵)), flip the camera around to show his face with a smirk and say “lose her number” because he’s a cocky ass mf

MAAAN you’re onto something anon, cuz a waterfall just breaks down in between my legs🤤🤤

“hmm, you like that huh, baby?”

his lips pulls into a lazy smirk, heavy panting as he pounds you from behind. both of his hands gripping onto your hips, talons digging slightly into the skin giving you the perfect pain of pleasure,

“yes papi—fuck yes” you mewl, mouth slightly wide open as you release another moan that makes his cock twitch. “i love how deep you get inside me”

he exhales a dark chuckle as he pounds faster, “sé que te gusta. dirty, dirty fucking girl.” then he leans slightly to whisper on your ear. “only for me, hm?”

you nod, biting down onto your lower lip as you’re running out of things to say. your brain tends to fogged when you have his cock deep inside your cunt, but you wouldn’t have it any other way,

as he about to fist your hair up, he hears a ‘ding’ coming from your phone. his brows furrowed curiously, because who the fuck is hitting up your phone at this hour? couldn’t be someone from work,

“who’s that?” he asks breathlessly as he watches you pull your head back before grabbing your phone and check,

“aw fuck”

“what?” he asks again, hearing you groan. “who is it?”

“remember Jonathan?” you ask as you look over your shoulder at him

oh man, he does not need to be told twice.

his expression then slowly formed into anger and annoyance, grunting in disgust as he snatches your phone,

“i’ll teach him a fucking lesson” he says through gritted teeth, hips snapping back into yours as he continues to thrust even faster,

miguel unlocks your phone, pressing the camera before he starts to take a video of your backside. the sound of your dirty moans are filling the room as he plunges deeper, his other hand coming to give your ass a smack.

the word ‘papi’ and ‘miguel’ keeps falling off your lips like a prayer, and it just feeds his ego even more. because he knows that Jonathan will watch this video and learns that you don’t belong to that sorry excuse of a man anymore.

no. you belong to him.

“tell me, baby” he adjusts the camera to the back of your head, making sure that your face isn’t in it. “who’s pussy is this?”

“yours” you say without any hesitation, knuckles turning white from gripping the sheets far too hard. “and no one else’s”

“good girl” he then flips the camera to show his face. his expression is dead serious, eyes locked into the screen as if he’s staring Jonathan in person. and for the icing on a cake, his fangs make a tiny bit appearance just to creep him off.

“lose her number, tú hijo de puta. or i’ll kill you” with that he sends it to your ex, throwing your phone to the side. “now he fucking knows to not text you anymore ”

hearing that makes you flush as you giggle. miguel’s hand slowly glide down against you back and pressing you onto the mattress so he can lay his body down completely on top. “my woman” he whispers lowly into your ear,

“hm, maybe next time if he does it again, you should take a picture of me sucking your cock, right papi?” you suggest with a sly smirk,

he groans at that, his hand coming up to choke you as the other supporting his weight beside your torso.

“ay, that’s why you’re my everything, mami”

#miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara smut #miguel o’hara blurbs #miguel o’hara

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yuutx · 2 months

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ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐒𝐓𝐔𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐂𝐈𝐋 𝐏𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐈𝐃𝐄𝐍𝐓 ! ! (𝒮𝒞𝒜𝑅𝒜𝑀𝒪𝒰𝒞𝐻𝐸)

student council president! scaramouche x f!reader ﾉ 18+ content. ﾉ nsfw + unprotected sex / raw sex ﾉ modern au / school au ﾉ creampie ﾉ blowjob ﾉ fingering ﾉ clit play ﾉ dirty talk ﾉ biting ﾉ public sex (sex in school) ﾉ praise kink ﾉ hate sex (?) ﾉ mdom + fsub ﾉ not proofread !꒰๑´ᗜ`꒱*›◡‹꒱꒱

i loveee school au's . . . scara strikes me as one of those cocky, super smart student council presidents who thinks he knows everything ,, however, he also gives me delinquent always getting in 2 fight vibes ! ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

The snarky bastard. You couldn't help but glare at him, the smirk on his face only further fueling the fire that raged within you. Scaramouche, the student council president and the biggest, nastiest bitch you had ever met. He flaunted his status as the council president, his influence and wealth. Everyone loved him, and it infuriated you to no end. Even if his words had a way of cutting through you, a barb hidden within every statement, the way he made your heart race was what got you the most.

Your hatred for him was palpable, the tension between the two of you nearly suffocating. And he loved it. He lived for it, the way you would sneer at him, the way you'd bite back. Getting you in trouble was the best part. Watching as you fumed, as you glared, as you were reprimanded and scolded was a high like no other. It was addicting, watching you suffer, watching as you fell from grace, the power dynamic between the two of you skewed in his favor. You were always looking for a fight, and he was always willing to give you one.

Today was no different.

You sat in the empty classroom, accompanied by your oh so favorite person. Detention, again. It seemed as though he was the only one who had a knack for getting you in trouble. He knew exactly how to press your buttons, exactly which buttons to push. Your temper was your greatest weakness, and he exploited it to his benefit. It was the same shit, day after day. You were both so caught up in your hatred of each other that you hadn't realized the mutual pining. But that was besides the point.

"Well, well, well. Looks like someone's been naughty," he taunted, a grin curling the edges of his lips, his gaze boring holes into the side of your face. You didn't bother responding, your teeth gnawing at the inside of your cheek. You couldn't deny that he was attractive, no, he was downright gorgeous, and it only served to piss you off even more. He was an asshole, through and through, and his looks only made him that much more appealing. The urge to smack the look off his face was almost too much, but you had a feeling that would only earn you a harsher punishment.

He stood up, slowly making his way towards you. You refused to make eye contact, knowing full well that the look he was giving you was absolutely predatory. His fingers gripped your chin, the touch light, and your eyes snapped up to his. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, slut." The words were hissed, and the nickname stung, even if it caused a small thrill to go through you. He had called you so many things, but that was a new one. His voice was a low rumble, the look on his face downright evil. "You know, I would really hate to have to punish you. Again."

"Maybe if you would stop harassing me, I wouldn't be here." You were quick to retort, glaring up at him with a scowl. His eyes widened for a moment before he laughed, the sound mocking.

"Oh? And yet you were the one who threw the first punch. Who started this, huh?" You had a smart remark on the tip of your tongue, but his grip tightened, and he tugged your head back, leaning down to whisper against your ear. "I could tell the principal. That would look awful on your permanent record. Or…" his tone was suggestive, the offer clear. He had been trying to get under your skin since the first day, and you were beginning to realize that it had been in more ways than one.

You knew what he was implying, and the idea didn't sound bad. But, the thought of him thinking that he could get away with doing whatever he wanted was even worse.

"Or, what? You're gonna fuck me into submission?" Your words were a challenge, and his smirk turned into a full blown grin, his teeth glinting in the light.

"Is that what you want, pretty girl?" The pet name sent a shiver down your spine, and the look on his face let you know he was more than aware of the effect it had on you.

"Don't call me that." Your words were more breathless than angry, and he chuckled, releasing your chin, only to slide his hand down your body. You were wearing a skirt, something that had been a mistake, the fabric bunching up around your waist. You couldn't help but squirm as his fingers danced along the inside of your thigh, his touch featherlight, teasing.

"What? Pretty girl?" You hated the way he spoke, the way his voice was so low and sensual, his words practically dripping with sex. It was driving you crazy, and you were sure he knew it. His fingers moved closer to your cunt, your panties damp, the fabric clinging to your pussy. His fingers grazed over your clit, the contact minimal, but enough to make you jump, the noise you made a strangled groan.

"Yes.." you moaned, your hips grinding down against his hand, seeking out more friction.

"What's the magic word?" His lips brushed against the shell of your ear, and you swallowed, trying to collect your thoughts, trying to get a handle on yourself. He wasn't allowed to do this. He wasn't supposed to have this kind of effect on you. And yet…

"Please.." the word was a whisper, the desperation clear, and he hummed, pleased, his fingers rubbing over your cunt, the fabric of your panties doing little to nothing to muffle the pleasure.

"Good girl." He practically purred, the praise making you shudder. It felt so good, having his hands on you. It was as if your brain was short circuiting, the feeling of his fingers on your cunt overwhelming.

His fingers hooked around your panties, and he tugged them to the side, his finger sliding between your folds.

"God, you're so wet. Are you sure this isn't what you've been wanting? Huh? Me fucking you? Filling you up?"

"Shut up.." you muttered, the flush on your cheeks spreading down to your neck. He was right, though. You had thought about him. Imagined him bending you over, his cock buried deep inside you, his hands leaving bruises on your hips. His words were filthy, the filthier the better. You didn't want him to stop.

"You're so sensitive." He mused, his thumb pressing against your clit, rubbing the bud in slow circles, his finger moving up to prod at your entrance. "I can feel how bad you want this. You're practically dripping.." he murmured, his lips brushing against your ear, his warm breath fanning over the shell of your ear.

"F-Fuck you..!" You gasped, the sensation overwhelming, his words making the heat in the pit of your stomach burn even hotter.

"Such a mouth on you. I bet I could find something to put in it." He teased, his teeth scraping against the side of your neck, biting down, hard enough to leave a mark. You groaned, the noise echoing throughout the room, and his fingers pressed against your hole, pushing the digit into your tight cunt. Your walls squeezed around the digit, the feeling strange, but not unwelcome. His finger felt amazing, his pace slow and torturous, but it was more than enough to have you panting.

"You're doing so well. Such a good girl, taking my fingers like this.." he crooned, and you whined, his words going straight to your core. "How about I give you another one, hm?" You nodded, the movement jerky, desperate.

"Y-Yes.." you mumbled, your hands reaching to cling onto him, your fingers gripping the front of his shirt. He hummed, adding a second finger, your walls stretching around him. He scissored his fingers, slowly fucking you with them, his thumb continuing to rub at your clit. It felt incredible, the way he was filling you up, the stretch almost too much. You were moaning, unable to keep quiet, and you heard him laugh.

"Awww, you like this, huh? You're so loud, baby. You love me that much?"

"F-fucking hate you.. t-this- this isn't-" he cut you off, curling his fingers, the tips of his digits pressing against your sweet spot. The moan that left you was embarrassingly loud, and his free hand grabbed your hair, tugging on the locks, forcing your head back. He forced his tongue into your mouth, kissing you roughly, swallowing all the noises that escaped you.

"You talk too much." He breathed, the words coming out muffled against your lips, and you tried to bite back the whine that was building up in the back of your throat, the coil in the pit of your stomach wound up so tightly, your body tense.

"I-I'm close, fuck- I-I'm so-" you couldn't think, his fingers still pounding into you, his thumb pressing down on your clit, the pressure just the right amount. You felt him smirk, his fingers moving faster, his free hand moving to grip your hip, his hold bruising. "C-cumm-ing!" You managed, the word getting caught in the back of your throat, and the coil snapped, your body jerking as you came, his fingers still working inside of you.

"There you go. Come for me. Cum all over my fingers, just like that. Good girl." His praise only made the orgasm even more intense, and you whined, the feeling too much. You could feel his gaze on you, watching you as you came undone, his fingers working you through it. He pulled his fingers out, bringing the digits to his lips, sucking them clean, his tongue flicking out to lick the digits clean. "Y-you- you won't tell the orin-the principal about my-my detention record, right?"

You couldn't form a coherent sentence, the pleasure fogging up your brain. Scaramouche chuckled, a wide grin on his face, his gaze heated, and you realized just how much you enjoyed his attention on you. "You'll.. get ride of all thedetentions on m..my record a-and make sure I don't have anymore?"

He grinned, his fingers gripping the hem of his pants, undoing the belt, pulling his zipper down, pulling his cock out, the tip already glistening with pearly liquid.

"Only if you make it worth my while." You knew exactly what he meant, and you were more than willing to comply. You dropped to your knees, the cold tile digging into your skin. You reached out, wrapping your fingers around his cock, the heat from his member nearly searing. You leaned forward, flicking your tongue against the tip, the taste of his precum salty, but delicious.

"M-mhm, mhm.. deal." You agreed, your hand moving up and down his length, trying to get him wet enough so that your movements wouldn't be too rough. His eyes were trained on your movements, his hand reaching out, tangling in your hair.

"Good girl. Now, open wide." You parted your lips, opening your mouth, sticking your tongue out. He gripped the back of your head, his fingers digging into your scalp, and he thrusted his hips forward, the head of his cock sliding past your lips. The feeling of his cock in your mouth was unlike anything you had ever felt before, the weight heavy on your tongue. He slowly pushed himself further into your mouth, the tip hitting the back of your throat, your gag reflex kicking in, making your throat contract around his length. He moaned, the sound making your cunt throb, and he held himself there, waiting for a few seconds before he started thrusting.

"Fuck- so- so fucking tight- you're doing so well.." he grunted, his eyes shut, the pleasure washing over him. His words had you moaning, the vibrations of your voice around his cock making him thrust harder. Your hand was pumping what wasn't in your mouth, your spit making the movements slick, his cock glistening. You were struggling to breathe, but the feeling of him filling you up, the feeling of him using your throat like this was amazing, and you couldn't get enough.

His hips were stuttering, his thrusts becoming more erratic, and he pulled out, his fingers wrapping around his length, pumping the digits, the tip of his cock pressed against your lips, your tongue darting out to lap at the head.

"Ahh- shit, here- come here.." he breathed, tugging at the strands of your hair, and you stood, your legs trembling, and he pushed you back against the wall, his hand slipping between your bodies, his fingers tugging your panties down, throwing them across the room. "Still so wet, hm? You really enjoyed that, didn't you?" He breathed, lifting you up, your legs wrapping around his waist, the position putting him in perfect alignment with your cunt. You could feel his cock rubbing between your folds, the tip brushing against your clit, the contact making you moan, your hips bucking.

"Not so tough now, are you?" He chuckled, the sound deep and low, his eyes trained on your face. You were too out of it to come up with a response, the heat pooling in the pit of your stomach, the pleasure threatening to drown you.

"F-fuck me, please.." the words left you before you could stop them, and his eyes widened, the look on his face a cocky tone.

"Oh? I didn't know you could beg, pretty girl."

"J-just.. I need you.." you pleaded, the feeling of his cock brushing against your cunt driving you crazy, the friction not nearly enough.

"You'll have me." He promised, and he pushed his hips forward, his cock sinking into you, his hands holding onto your thighs, keeping you steady. The feeling of him inside of you was like nothing you had ever felt before, his cock stretching your cunt, filling you up so well, his size almost too much. A high-pitched whine escaped you, and his grip tightened, his fingers leaving bruises on your skin.

"H-holy shit.. fuck, you're so fucking tight, fuck-" his words were cut off, a low groan escaping him, and he didn't bother waiting for you to adjust. He didn't give you a chance to recover. His hips were pistoning, his thrusts rough, his cock slamming into you over and over again. "You feel so fucking good." He grunted, his eyes squeezed shut, his jaw clenched. He was gorgeous, the sounds escaping him like music to your ears, and the pleasure was making your brain short circuit.

"Fuck..haah.. fuck, take it, baby, take all of me, you're so- so fucking perfect, shit, I'm not gonna last long, god, you feel amazing.." he rambled, his pace brutal, and you cried out, pathetic noises leaving you. You felt like a bitch in heat, a sexdoll, his to use however he saw fit, and as much as it pissed you off, the thought only served to turn you on even more.

"M-mh.. ha-harder! Fuck- fuck me- harder, ple-please-" you managed, the words coming out choked, and his eyes shot open, his gaze wild, the look on his face pure animal. He moved even faster, the sound of his hips slapping against yours echoing throughout the room.

"Shit, y-you want it that bad? Huh? Y-you like being fucked this hard? T-talk to me, baby, tell me how much you like it." His words were punctuated with moans, and you gasped, your nails scratching at the fabric of his shirt, the material wrinkling under your grip. You were shaking, your cunt squeezing around his cock, the feeling of him inside of you driving you absolutely crazy. The coil in the pit of your stomach was growing tighter, and the pleasure was making it difficult to breathe, his cock filling you up so well. You could feel the tears pricking the corners of your eyes, and he chuckled, the sound dark and deep, the noise making your cunt throb.

"F-feels good, f-fuck..a-so good.. i l-love your c-cock.. ahh, p-please, f-fill me up..! W-want it so bad- ah! M-more!" Your words were barely coherent, a babble of broken sentences, but they seemed to be enough, his cock driving into you with enough force to push the air from your lungs, his cock bottoming out, the tip pushing against the entrance of your womb. You were crying out, your noises almost deafening, the tears rolling down your cheeks. Your vision was blurry, the pleasure so intense, and you felt his thrusts begin to stutter, his breathing labored. "Mmph!! Y-yes, yes, fuck, fuck.. c-cum with me p-please.. i w-wanna feel it, n-need it..!" You cried, and he groaned, his head falling back, his hair sticking to his forehead, his bangs damp.

"Dirty- haah, dirty girl. F-fuck, here- cum with me, t-together.." his fingers moved between your bodies, his thumb pressing down on your clit. The pressure was the last straw, the pleasure snapping, and your body seized, your mouth falling open, a pornographic scream eliciting from you as you synced up, cumming with him, your release washing over you in waves. Your gummy walls were clamping down on his cock, and he moaned, the noise sounding more like a growl, his seed shooting out, painting the walls of your cunt, his cock pulsating. It was a sensation unlike anything you had ever felt, and you shuddered, the pleasure so intense you couldn't help but sob.

Scaramouche grunted, his head buried in the crook of your neck, his teeth digging into the side of your neck, biting down, his hips jerking, the aftershocks of his orgasm making him tremble. You were shaking, the two of you panting, your bodies pressed together. "Fuck.." he breathed, the word muffled against your skin, and you whined, the feeling of him pulling out making you squirm. His release began to seep out of your cunt, dribbling down your thighs, and he watched with a pleased expression, his cock twitching. You couldn't form a coherent sentence, too overwhelmed, but he seemed to understand. He was breathing heavily, his chest heaving, and his hand moved to brush the sweat soaked strands of hair from your forehead, a small smirk on his lips. "So, about those detentions slips.."

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etfrin · 5 months

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❝coriolanus snow who treats you like a doll❞

tw: toxic, dark, objectification, suggestive | [fem reader]

๑💌 Coriolanus Snow braids your hair every night, it's a routine to him. Doesn't matter how late he is from work or if he has to wake you up to do it, he will do it himself every night.

๑💌 Coriolanus Snow brushes your hair every morning as well, but not only that if he has time he will shower with you. Clean you up with his own hands, rub your body thoroughly, and scrub your scalp with his favorite shampoo

๑💌 Coriolanus Snow who has a very large closet dedicated to you. Everything in there was chosen and bought by him. He selects your outfit every morning and even chooses the make-up you will wear (the ones that would look pretty when you're sobbing with how good he is fucking you)

๑💌 Coriolanus Snow who thinks dolls shouldn't talk after all they're dolls. Dolls should be played with. He only allows sounds from your lips when you're spewing the latest gossip, or asking him about his day. He loves your voice when you're moaning, whimpering, and whining when you're being used as a Fleshligh, otherwise, he doesn't care about your words.

๑💌 Coriolanus Snow rarely lets you ride him, when he does, it's a privilege (read: he's just too tired but won't admit it) and you can only fuck yourself on his cock at the pace he has set. If you go faster or slower, he will make sure to punish his doll that can't fucking obey.

๑💌 Coriolanus Snow who daydreams about fucking you in front of all of Panem. Just so he can brag that he has a good pet, an obedient human doll to play with that no one has. Snow lands on top.

๑💌 Coriolanus Snow doesn't show affection to you in the normal way, but he does show them (or so you believe). He shows you by kissing you on your forehead when you're good, he shows you by reading whatever book you want during bedtime, he shows you by letting you cum, he shows you by calling you his, and by letting you call him Coryo.

๑💌 Coriolanus Snow who gets paranoid that someone is going to try to poison you (even as you're stuck in the mansion) and without telling you starts to dosage your food with poison so that you grow immune. Even if your body goes weak and your mind is hazy from the noxious substance, you have access to the best doctors of Panem and you have Coryo to take care of you.

Current tag list: @stelleduarte @nowitsmissing @lifeonawhim @le-lena @dollfacedalls @motley-baby @champomiel @slytherinholland @randomstuff2040 @justacaliforniandreamer @emmalinemalfoy @hyuk4s @theamuz @watercolorskyy @littlebiwitchsworld @skywalker1dream @darkangelkathiecookiesmith @ben-has-arrived @bucksdonkey @xyzstar @ellie-luvsfics @sunny-deary @daughter1of2anita3dearly @eir964 @nowsyhozey @ayaya-aa @serving-targaryen-realness @hansbasement @louweasleymalfoy @lettersandwhiteroses @arzua10 @wotcherpeak @ever8ea @daughter-of-the-stars11 @blippys-blog @iguanagwen @moonlight-by-the-sea @snowlandstop @badbleep88 @hobireasns @floswife @weeeoosworld @ludasgf

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fairiesthrum · 1 month

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─── jujutsu kaisen masterlist

❝ love is the most twisted curse of all . . . ❞

☰ table of contents ⟡ masterlist ﾉ requests

ᘛ toji

ᘛ satoru

ᘛ megumi

ᘛ sukuna

ᘛ yuiji

ᘛ nanami

ᘛ suguru

#⺡🍥 m.list ꮺ࿔#♡ → fluff #๑ → suggestive #౨ৎ → smut #༊ → dark content #彡 → angst #ʚ → comfort #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #©fairiesthrum

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jeondesu · 1 month

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ೀ⋆ 🧷 SOFT LAUNCHING YOUR NEW BOYFRIEND !

── ✧ ˚. ꒰ pairing ꒱ ˒˓ Jungkook x f!reader ˒˓ established relationship summary. you’re both softly launching each other on all your socials ! genre/tags. smau, fluffy fluff fluff, light hearted banter and my horrible attempt at humor with a hint of crack, minor profanity, one slightly suggestive joke, this is my first attempt at this so be nice pls q(╯ᆺ╰๑)

WEEK 1.

WEEK 2.

WEEK 3.

WEEK 4.

WEEK 5.

i hope you found this little mess i attempted to make somewhat entertaining LOL, i’m still figuring out how to do these so bear w me 😅

#jungkook smau #jungkook fluff #jungkook text #jungkook texts #bts smau #jungkook x reader #jungkook x female reader #jungkook imagine #jungkook imagines #jungkook scenarios #jungkook x oc

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seuonji · 7 months

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彡 things they left with you before leaving for tour.

notes ๑ gift giving! headcanons. reader and svt member does not live together!

genre ๑ fluff

warnings ๑ none

word count ๑ 1k

from aya: please reblog if you enjoyed! feedback is always appreciated<3

seungcheol left you the key to his home.

you’re free to go there whenever you want but he mainly gave it so that you have access to his closet!! it’s also to allow you to see kkuma.

whenever you’re there you always send him a selfie to show how the house is doing. he especially loves the photos that contains you and kkuma on his bed.

yn: [photo attachment]

yn: i changed kkuma’s hairpin today, doesn’t she look cute?

cheol: you both look adorable♡

jeonghan left you tons of his oversized shirts.

tons as in it could probably last you until he comes back. but he leaves the ones that hold some type of meaning.

he’d totally give you a whole presentation while unpacking the clothes on why he’s giving it to you.

he left you the shirt that he wore on your first date. he left you another shirt that you complimented. another one he left was one that you described as, ‘looks very comfortable.’ another was in your favourite colour while another was in your least favourite colour,, he asked you to send him photos of you specifically in that one.

he gave them with the intention that though he’s not there, you won’t feel alone at night.

he loves it when he calls and sees you wearing them!

joshua left you countless of letters he wrote.

just in case he’s not on his phone enough, to keep his presence with you, he wrote different letters. one for you to read when you’re sad, one for when you felt doubtful, another for when you felt scared.

he wrote letters for any feeling you may feel while he’s gone whether it was sorrow, anger or joy.

one day you were missing him, a lot. so you opened the letter that had ‘read when you feel alone.’ written on it.

‘yn, you’re feeling alone? cause im not there, right( ˊ̱uˋ̱ )?‘ he joked with you even through writing. ‘i know it’s a long wait but i’ll be back soon and we’ll be in bed watching movies together. i’m always thinking about you. i may not be one call away because…what if i’m on stage? but you’re still my number one priority, i hope you know that.’

it’s just long texts of reassurance that he loves you and suggestions of things you can do while you wait for him and honestly, as you read the letters, the more it felt like he was actually there.

jun left you a polaroid.

he aswell provided the films but the films were the same amount as the number of days he’d be gone.

he asked you take a picture of something everyday whether it was the scenery or something you were doing. you could either label them or keep it in a photo card binder. he wants you to talk about it with him when he comes back.

total plus if you like journaling/photography!!

soonyoung left you a heart locket necklace.

it had funny pictures of you and him on one side and the other side had a picture of you two cuddling.

he has a matching one of course! his one has so many scratches because of how much he kept opening it.

notably, he left you a cute tiger plush that was almost your size.

“think of him as if he’s me.”

“that’s weird youngie…”

idk why but initially i imagined he’d leave you a body pillow with him printed on it.

wonwoo left you his console so that you can help him keep up with his games. just kidding.

if you like reading, he definitely leaves you some books he’s collected over the years. he’d even buy books that are of your taste if his isn’t your style. he gave it so that you’d have something to preoccupy your time.

if you aren’t too into reading, he left you things that supports the hobbies you do. if you like art, he buys you paint, if you like knitting he’d buy you yarn. he finds joy in your passion.

jihoon left you a usb filled with movies and shows on it. he even provided snacks!

he loved hearing your opinions about shows/movies he liked. since you two were going to be apart, he thought you’d have more time to watch them.

when you did watch the said movie/show, he’d instantly call and listen to your opinions intently. he might end up falling for you all over again! but also it could end up in an endless banter—

“what did you think of that character?“ he asked excitedly but there was a touch of tiredness in his voice.

“they were okay,” you casually answered.

“just okay!?” suddenly the tiredness was gone.

“i said what i said!”

seokmin left you a jar filled with origami hearts, cranes, airplanes, stars and even some of your favourite animals.

as you unfold them, there’s small messages written in them. it had messages of affirmations to song/food/movie recommendations.

he looks forward to your response to the letter you opened that day.

“the one i opened today was a good one,” you said smiling.

“really, what’s wrong with the other ones? why aren’t they as good?” he asked in a whining tone.

“the one i opened yesterday said ‘listen to aju nice by seventeen.’” you recalled monotonously.

“what’s wrong with that?”

“anyways the one i opened today said to ‘eat pizza while thinking about me.’” you brushed off the previous topic.

“ah, that’s a good one, even i’m jealous.”

“you wrote it?”

“still, why would you have pizza without me…”

also, he made tons of it lasted even until he came back.

mingyu left you a cookbook of things he usually cooks for you.

the first few pages were your favourite meals hes cooked for you. they’re key parts are highlighted in your favourite colours and he even places in affirmations in free spaces. the middle pages are random meals you don’t necessarily like but,, he needed to fill in the pages. the last few pages are your favourite deserts!

minghao left you the experience of having permanent bracelets with someone.

he brought you to the store and you got a bracelet in his in his favourite colour as he got one with yours. you both spent hours just admiring the way it shined and he couldn’t stop taking pictures of it.

“now, no matter the distance, you’ll still have a piece of me that’s always with you,” he said.

seungkwan left you a self care pack.

there was skincare products, your favourite snacks and cds of your favourite films. they were each labelled with tags of why he gave those specific items.

‘you’ve always liked these, enjoy them.’ labelled on the snacks.

‘please use this, take care of your skin okay?’ labelled on the skincare.

‘don’t get too bored just cause im not there.” labelled on the cds

it’s as if he was taking care of you without because there.

vernon left you a pet fish (?)

questionable but at least you’re not completely alone. also he got consent before he bought it so, it was okay. but he also left you some of his jackets and beanies but if it was summer he’d leave you baseball caps. yknow, the sensible gifts.

it’s the thought that counts!

whenever he gets the time he’d call you to check on the fish.

and you as well, of course.

chan left you a box full of snacks.

he’s bringing the same snacks with him in his bag. he plans to call you every night so you two can talk about your day while eating the same snacks so that it seems like you two are together.

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saintkaylaa · 6 days

Text

I Didn’t Shave

ஓ๑♡๑ஓ♡๑ஓ♡๑ஓ♡๑ஓ♡๑ஓ♡๑ஓ♡๑ஓ♡๑ஓ♡๑

𓆩⟡𓆪 levi, eren, armin, jean, porco, & erwin

note: You tell them you can’t have sex because you haven’t shaved! A prompt done by @textmel8r for jjk🤍 thanks for letting me use the prompt pookie.

warnings: sex, suggestive, cursing, f!reader

I BLOCK MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS || MDNI

Levi

Eren

Armin

Jean

Porco

Erwin

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vanishingcherry · 1 year

Text

MARRY ME?

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

warnings: alcohol consumption, mentions of jules bianchi and herve leclerc, google translated french, marriage and proposals (self explanatory)

summary: the 4 times charles has asked you to marry him and the one time you said yes

masterlist

๑ ⋆˚₊⋆────ʚ˚ɞ────⋆˚₊⋆ ๑

── 6 years old

Your parents had brought you to a wedding.

Your mother was the bride's closest friend, meaning you had the honour of being the flower girl. The ceremony itself was short and sweet, you watched the bride in awe, in love with her dress.

Not too long later, you were joined by a young boy your age. He was the ring bearer, also watching as the ceremony came to a close.

As the newly married couple walks out together, the boy turns to you.

"We should get married too" He suggests.

"What?" you ask, eyebrows furrowing in surprise. "I don't even know your name"

"C'est Charles. Et toi?" it's charles, and you?

"Y/N."

"Ok so now we can get married, yes? It will be fun."

"Je ne sais pas Charles, i dont know, I need to ask mummy first." You reply. On the outside you were trying to act as normal as possible, but on the inside, you kind of wanted it to happen.

To be fair, why wouldn't you want to wear a pretty dress and get some pretty flowers. You could picture it now, walking down the aisle with a bouquet in your hand and a sparkling dress with thousands of glittery sequins.

It was settled then. If she said yes, you would get married. It would be perfect. Grabbing Charles's hand, you scan the room for your mother, spotting her at the main table, awaiting the arrival of the bride and groom.

Running up to her, you tug at her dress with your hand, still holding Charles's in the other. She looks down.

"Mummy he asked me to marry him." You say in excitement, raising the hand that was entwined with Charles's.

Everyone at the table laughs at that, and you frown in response, not understanding what was wrong. Your mother, stifling a laugh herself, replies, "And what did you say?"

"That I had to ask you first. Is it okay if I marry him mummy?"

"Hmm are you sure you're not a little too young?"

"But i'm 6 years old. That is an entire hand plus 1". Adamant to get a pretty dress, you press on. Charles is still holding your hand, standing behind you patiently. He didn't want to say anything that would ruin his chances.

His mother had explained to him a few days ago why weddings happened. She had said that he would know when he met the person he wanted to marry, that she would be beautiful and kind and the best person in the world.

Pascale had explained to Charles that day that if he loved the girl, then everything would be alright, and they would be together forever. Upon meeting Y/N, he knew that she was his forever, it was just incredibly unfortunate that her mother seemed to think 6 was too young when it was obviously the perfect age.

You were still trying to convince your mother that it was perfect, everything was already set up and you were sure the bride wouldn't mind if you got married too.

"How about this", she suggests, "what if you and Charles get married when you are 25?"

"25!" You're shocked, 25 seemed so far away.

"I think 25 is the perfect age, yes? Both of you will be old enough then."

Knowing it was the best deal you would get, you agreed. Leading Charles away, you told him what your mother and you had compromised on. He seemed slightly disappointed at the news, but figured it would be okay, it was only 19 years after all.

"Pinky promise?"

"Pinky promise."

Unbeknownst to you, your mothers were exchanging numbers at the table, knowing it would be impossible to keep you two apart after today.

── 17 years old

Charles had gotten into Formula 1.

Not too long after winning the F2 Championship, Charles had started getting calls. He was almost always on the phone with his manager, before finally announcing that he signed with Sauber. Years of hard work and months of negotiation had paid off.

That was an interesting day. Both your families were sitting together in the Leclerc's living room. You were sitting between Charles and Arthur, playing games on the TV. After boasting about winning agains the two of them in Mario Cart, you slumped against the sofa, not wanting to play anymore.

Before the two brothers started the new game, Charles got up and stood in the middle of the room, calling for everyone's attention.

"As you all know, we've been trying to figure out a deal for Formula 1", he started, referring to himself and his manager. "And I'm going to be joining Sauber next year!"

Shouts of excitement were all that could be heard for the next few minutes, everyone overjoyed for the young boy who had spent his entire life working towards this very goal.

You were the first to get up and hug him, squealing in delight at the news. Your arms were tightly wrapped around his neck, everyone else in the family forming a big group hug around the two of you.

That was months ago. Now, the two of you stood in his room, 2 weeks before the start of the new season. Charles had to go to the airport early next morning, joining the team for a few days in the simulator. However, as normal, he had left packing till the very last minute.

He'd called you over a few hours ago, freaking out over what to pack and what to leave behind. You went over, entering his room to see clothes scattered everywhere. Rolling your eyes, you start directing him, telling him to clean up while you sort through the piles to figure out what he needs.

Over an hour later, the two of you fall on the bed, tired after having run all over the house to find everything Charles needed. Everything was done, packed up in the suitcase that would accompany him around the world.

Too late to sleep, the two of you opted to stay in his room and talk, whiling away the few hours before he had to head to the airport.

"My god Y/N, marry me will you?"

Blushing in response, you turn to face him. "What?"

Oblivious as he was, Charles had absolutely no idea of your growing crush on him. It had been going on for years, but you never said anything to him, too scared to ruin your friendship.

You were already the subject of teasing from both Lorenzo and Arthur, who had been blackmailed into not telling Charles. Pascale and your own parents hadn't yet commented on the relationship, choosing to let young love play out.

Charles had no idea, none at all. Never had he made any move that suggested he knew or felt the same way. Hence, a proposal was definitely not what you expected when you walking into his house earlier in the day.

"I don't know what I would do without you Y/N. Honestly Fred would've killed me if I showed up with only half the things I needed."

You let out a small chuckle. "We are a bit too young to get married, no?"

He turns back to face the ceiling. "I guess so."

2 hours later, you found yourself waving him off as he entered the terminal, heading to the Sauber headquarters for a week before pre-season testing, your heart still beating faster any time you thought of the conversation that had taken place.

── 20 years old

Charles was drunk.

It was a night out in Monaco. Most of the drivers could be found in the club, packed together, dancing and drinking following the grand prix earlier in the day.

Charles hadn't finished in a good position, meaning he was more than eager to drink the night away. You, tired after a day at the paddock, decided to go home instead.

From the moment he got the first drink down, all he could talk about was you. He would go around to all the drivers, asking them if they had seen how pretty you looked earlier today, or telling them a story about something you did as a child.

"Have I told you about the time we were matching on halloween?"

"Y/N got in so much trouble in school that day."

"She was so excited when she got to meet her favourite singer today!"

He was smitten, all of them knew it, and so they sat there and listened with smirks on their faces. Finally, tired of all the whining, Pierre dropped off Charles at your apartment.

Waking up to a phone call and multiple knocks on your door, you walked into your living room, quickly opening the door to see a grinning Pierre at your door, Charles leaning against him.

"He was being annoying, you can keep him", the frenchman says, tilting his head in Charles direction. "He's drunk."

"I can see that", you mutter, still slightly annoyed at the fact that you were woken up in the middle of the night, but grateful that Charles hadn't ended up walking the streets of Monaco alone.

The drunk man stumbled into your arms, waiting patiently for you to finish thanking Pierre who swiftly headed back to the club.

So, at around 1 in the morning, you found yourself awake and half carrying Charles to the sofa. He fell against it, leaning back and closing his eyes as you went to get a glass of water.

You see his face light up when you enter the room. Leaving the glass on the table for him to drink, you go get some pillows from your room.

Coming back, you see that he had already finished his water, and was looking at you intently.

"Tu es si belle. Have I ever told you that?" you are so beautiful

"Oui, et tu est tout aussi beau" yes, and you are just as handsome

Your crush still existed, perhaps even more so than before. It was impossible to deny the fact that he had only grown more attractive in the last few years. However, knowing it was just his drunk self talking, you chose the ignore the butterflies in your stomach.

He doesn't reply, watching as you set everything up comfortably before lying back. Just as you're about to leave to switch off the light, he grabs your hand, forcing you to turn around.

"Marry me Y/N."

The surprise on your face was as clear as day, but Charles's drunk self seemed to see right past it. He kept his eyes on your own, waiting for a response.

"How about you take me out on a date first?" you laugh in response, fluffing up the pillow and placing a blanket on his body. He falls asleep within seconds, and you sport a small smile as you watched him, before making your way to the comfort of your own bed.

The next day, you woke up to breakfast in bed. A stack of pancakes accompanied by grinning Charles and a note that read "Will you go out with me?"

Regardless to say, the date went amazing. It was simple, just the two of you hanging out in your favourite places in Monaco, drinking coffee and making jokes.

It was only a month later when Charles officially asked you to be his girlfriend during a movie night at home, to which you promptly replied a yes. And just another month after that when you heard him whisper a small "je t'aime" as you drifted off to sleep in a hotel room.

── 24 years old

Ferrari had finally made a good car.

It was the final race of the season and the battle raged on between Charles and Max. Both had an equal chance of winning the championship, Charles only 2 points behind Max in the leaderboard. Whoever won this race would win it all.

You were sitting in the garage, gaze not shifting from the screen in front of you. You watched the two drivers continuously switch positions, going from P1 to P2 and vice versa.

Max having lead for the last few laps, you stood up in joy when Charles overtook him at the end of the penultimate lap. Just 1 more lap. Charles was one lap away from being the World Champion.

You watched as Max's rear tire locked up in the second sector, increasing the gap to 2 seconds. The joy in your heart was bubbling up as Charles got closer and closer to the finish line. Joining the rest of the engineers, you leaned over the railings, watching as he crossed the finish line.

Immediately you ran to the pit wall, grabbing a pair of headphones.

"Amour you did it! World Champion!" You couldn't contain your delight, tears of joy falling as you go around hugging everyone in sight.

"Oh my god. We did it! We did it!" You heard his voice come through. "Thank you to everyone oh my god. I cannot believe it. I love you." Your grin becomes even wider at the last line directed towards you.

"Je t'aime Charles. Oh my god you did it."

Shouts of "yes" and "oh my god" were all that could be heard for the next few seconds. You stood there and listened, knowing just how much Charles deserved it. He had worked every day, either by himself in the gym or with the engineers, figuring out strategies for the next race. He deserved this more than anyone else.

Leaving the headphones near one of the many computers, you run to where the rest of the engineers were gathering. The red car parks at P1, and you look on in unfiltered glee as Charles jumps out, raising his hands in celebration.

He runs over to you, grabbing your face before pulling you in for a kiss. Knowing that there were people watching you, he keeps its short, but its passionate nonetheless.

When he pulls away, you see the shine in his eyes, helmet still on as everyone working at Ferrari rushes over to pat him on the back or give a hug.

Arthur, Lorenzo and his mother are there as well. The former having come P3 in his race earlier in the day, and the latter two having made the trip from Monaco to watch the climatic ending to the season.

You stand to the side with them when Charles heads to the cooldown room, talking to Pascale.

"Herve serait fiere, si fiere" herve would be proud, so proud.

"Et Jules aussi", you add. and jules too "He won it for them."

She smiled. Not too long after, an engineer walked over to you, directing you to the stage. He claimed that Charles wanted you to watch from closer.

5 minutes later, standing off to the side, you look on as he is handed the championship trophy. Cheering alongside everyone else, the delight is evident on your face as he raises it above his head.

The celebrations start. You watch as the engineers filter in, each holding their own bottle of champagne. Catching your eyes, Charles walks over, pulls you up on the podium with him, immediately drenching you in champagne. The celebrations continue as more and more people join.

He hugs you tight, blocking your line of sight. The noise is overwhelming, but in that moment, it's just the two of you. You hug him back, whispering in his ear, unaware of everyone else leaving the podium. I love you, I am so proud of you.

When it's just the two of you left, Charles pulls back. You look around in surprise, turning back to Charles to tell him to get off the podium, gasping when you realise what he was doing.

He was down on one knee, looking at you as though you had hung the stars in the sky. In his hand was a small box that held the most beautiful ring you had ever seen. The diamond in the center shone under the bright lights, but nothing could distract you from Charles.

"Veux-tu m'epouser, mon amour?" will you marry me, my love

You nod almost immediately, tears still falling as your hands cover your mouth in shock. Yes, yes, yes. You get down to Charles's level, hugging him tighter than ever before. You hear him chuckle in your ear, kissing your neck as he too feels a few tears fall out.

You aren't sure how long the two of you stay that way, finding comfort in each others embrace, but you are startled when you hear the roar of the crowd. Leaning back, you can't help but laugh when you see all the drivers and thousands of fans clapping and celebrating your engagement.

Arthur is standing next to Pierre, the both of them hooting and cheering, knowing just how much behind-the-scenes encouragement it took for Charles to agree to proposing.

Looking back at Charles, you find him already looking at you. Giving him a kiss, you let him put the ring on your finger, cheek's hurting from how much you had smiled in the last hour.

It slips on with ease, and the diamonds seem to sparkle even more under the bright lights.

"Only took 4 times for you to say yes, eh?"

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jeonstellate · 3 months

Text

my future in your eyes

mingyu still holds onto you, even after all this time.

๑彡 kim mingyu x gender neutral!reader

๑彡 divorced!au/ex-husband!au, post-break up!au, exes-to-lovers!au — fluff

๑彡 paragraph format — 1.1K words

masterlist

[gif’s full credit belongs solely to its owner]

๑彡 title is taken from zack tabudlo’s as you are.

๑彡 i’m lowk proud of this ngl bc— it’s fluff, but it took me relatively quick to finish?? usually i get stuck for weeks if the wip’s fluff ><

Kim Mingyu is a man of confidence.

Not that he uses his confidence to swindle strangers, as the dictionary suggests the title means. Rather, he exudes confidence — regardless of what he does.

There is always an air confidence around him. He can be in clothes that don’t fit the event’s theme and he’ll still seem perfectly dressed. He can be barely conversant in another language and he’ll still sound like he knows what he’s saying. He can just be standing there, doing nothing, and he’ll still appear like he’s doing something right.

Some people mistake his confidence for arrogance. Most find it admirable. But, in truth, Mingyu hardly cares.

Especially if his so-called confidence vanishes whenever you are in the vicinity and within his line of sight. Just like now.

He sees you in a table with Seokmin. Your back is towards him but he recognizes you, anyway. Despite the distance, he has no problem witnessing how animatedly you talk with your common friend.

It’s almost like he is back in college: you and Seokmin in one row, him and Minghao a few rows back. He can almost hear Minghao state matter-of-factly, "You’re staring," like he often does back then.

Really, all that’s different is Minghao’s currently preoccupied being the groom to comment on his staring. (There are definitely more things that are different now, but he doesn’t want to even begin thinking about them.)

Seokmin catches his stare. Not soon after, specifically before Mingyu can even look away, he sees him leave the table. Seokmin throws him a familiar meaningful look before disappearing into the dance floor.

Truth be told, Mingyu’s confidence comes naturally. It isn’t something that he purposely channels. It’s just always there . . . unless you are involved. Then, suddenly, he has to painstakingly gather the confidence to be near you.

"Is this seat taken?" He tries his hardest to mask his awestruck look with one of kind politeness as he waits your response.

He almost forgot how to breathe when your eyes lock into his. "You may sit if you wish," you offer him a small, polite smile. "I don’t think he’ll be back anytime soon."

"Thanks." He effortlessly returns your gesture before situating himself on the chair your common friend abandoned. "How are you enjoying the party?"

"Really well, actually. I didn’t expect to recognize a lot of people from college." Your eyes don’t leave his as you answer. He tries not to stare back too intently, to look within your eyes to see something . . . anything. "And you?"

Mingyu waits for a beat, gathering enough confidence to say what he wants to. "Better now that you’re here." With me.

He lets out a barely audible embarrassed laugh. He has half a mind to take it back, but quickly changes his mind when he sees you biting your lower lip — an obvious attempt to stop yourself from laughing.

A ghost of a smile plays on his lips. There’s pride in knowing he’s still able to make you laugh, despite it being your first meeting in literal years.

You look down in a presumable attempt to calm yourself down. He doesn’t take his eyes off of you, though, as he refuses to lose you from his sight. As such, he immediately notices the sudden shift in your expression.

"You’re still wearing it." Mingyu follows your line of sight — and ends up looking at the source of your comment. His hand on the table, specifically the band of gold adorning his ring finger. "Our ring."

Our wedding ring.

You and Mingyu married soon after graduating from college. It had been a blissful marriage, one that filled a home with nothing but love and support.

Your divorce was on the basis of irreconcilable differences. It was a mutual decision, for the interest of your career paths diverging too far. There was never a bad blood.

"Ye— yeah." Mingyu stutters involuntarily. He clears his throat before continuing, "It’s a great conversational piece."

Although the divorce has been finalized years ago, Mingyu still plays the faithful and loving husband role in front of strangers. He uses the ring on his finger to his advantage: may that be to wordlessly signal that he’s already taken or to gain the favor of a potential sponsor.

Likewise, even if he knows the ring might be a disadvantage, he refuses to take it off — nor to purposely hide it from sight. The same way he never tells a stranger that he is no longer tied to someone else.

"Does it work?" You ask in wonder.

"We are conversing now, aren’t we?"

You chuckle, "Touché."

Mingyu wants to tell you that he hasn’t taken the ring off since you slipped it on his finger during your wedding. Not even after your divorce has been finalized all those years ago.

He wants to tell you his ring finger is thinner near his palm because of his adamant refusal to take his wedding ring off once in a while. Not willing to separate from the only physical reminder of your marriage, not even for a second.

He wants to tell you the ring is more than a conversational piece. He wants to tell you it’s his lifeline, something he can’t bear to lose. But he doesn’t.

Instead, Mingyu uses all the confidence he has gathered to ask you a simple question. "Dance with me?"

He offers you the hand adorned by his wedding ring. He tries not to show the uncertainty he feels by masking it behind a smile.

He almost lets out a relieved sigh when you place your hand on top of his. But he stops breathing momentarily when he catches sight of the sole jewelry adorning your hand.

"You’re still wearing it," Mingyu echoes your comment breathlessly. "Our ring."

He snaps his eyes back to your face, just in time to witness your smile widen. "Yeah," you say. "It’s a great talisman to ward off potential suitors."

He leads you to the dance floor, silently marveling at how your hand still fits perfectly with his. "Does it work?"

"It’s very effective," you assure him. "Although I don’t think it works well against ex-husbands."

Another slow song starts playing right when you reach the dance floor. You and Mingyu unconsciously claim your respective hand placements during your first dance — and for any waltz you danced after.

Then, suddenly, it’s like you traveled back in time.

Mingyu pulls you closer, a ghost of a smirk is at the edge of his lips. "I think it works well attracting ex-husbands."

#kim mingyu x reader #mingyu x reader #seventeen x reader #kim mingyu imagines #mingyu imagines #seventeen imagines #kim mingyu scenarios #mingyu scenarios #seventeen scenarios #kim mingyu oneshots #mingyu oneshots #seventeen oneshots #ex-husband!au #post-break up!au #exes-to-lovers!au #kim mingyu #mingyu #seventeen

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