#also POCKETS she has lots of things to put in them

[sceirlose]

I feel like all the Skittles have SOME sort of weird thing that's going on with them. Tw mentions of blood and dissecting

Barty is batshit crazy. Wild, messy, and all over the place. Almost terrifying. He makes ur mom jokes and threatens to kill or hurt or fuck someone who's messing with him. He also learned how to do his own tatoos and piercings, thats why he has a new tattoo or piercing every month. He finds it fun and silly to be stabbing his ear and shoving a piercing through it, likes the sting cause it gives him adrenaline

And there's Pandora who says the most out of pocket shit. She has weird visions sometimes and seems to be everywhere and knows everything. And she's so incredibly calm while saying the wildest shit ever that it scares some people. People never hear her footsteps, and she just shows up randomly. Her voice is so calm and peaceful that it really doesn't fit her liking in scary creatures

Then Evan, who is just as off-putting as his sister. Unlike Barty, who is chaotic, he's more reserved and calm. But sometimes does creepy stuff and acts like it's normal. He is weirdly fascinated with disecting humans and animals. Also has a weird interest in teeth and dead animal corpses. He probably learned how to preserve them somehow. He has a like thing where dead butterflies are stuck to and he wakes up everyday to admire it as a way to start his day.

Dorcas has an interest in lucid dreaming and shifting and all things psychological. Sometimes she'll say stuff like "oh I sent a message to you in your dreams, you got it, right?" Most of the time, you probably won't get it, but it happens sometimes. Mostly to the slytherin Skittles and Marlene. She also learned to do nonverbal spells earlier in her years because it helps give her more control over her own mind. She has definitely learned and did research on why the imperius curse does what it does to its victims

And Regulus, though never to admit out loud, fucking loves astrology. He learned about it through Pandora, and since then he's been doing astrological readings. He just finds it cool how something like a time of birth, the position of a planet, the moon phase of your birth, and all can say a lot about a person.

Anyways it might not fit some characters but it's how I think of them and I love them this way cause imagine like Pandora walking up to Barty and say "certain plants can bloom above dead corpses" and Barty suggests that they have to see it happen for themselves

Or Dorcas coming up reg like "did you get my message?" And Regulus said "yeah, it's written in the stars that your relationship will go well don't worry and stop pestering me in my dreams"

Or Barty making a new piercing and Evan suggesting that he should make a piercing out of one of his insects legs and Barty was really close to doing it before Reg stopped them

Or Regulus catching squirrels for Pandora to keep in her little squirrel cage and have as a pet that'll probably die because Evan keeps feeding it the wrong food

Sometimes, the Skittles all get hurt except for Dorcas, and she says stuff like "yeah because the universe is protecting me. I'm their favourite mortal"

Barty getting slightly unsettled and maybe a bit flustered when he sees Evan so focused on learning how to use his new dissecting tool, just tweaking it here and there for his own liking yk

Regulus in a bad mood cause today's horoscope says that it's going to be shit.

Yeah they're weird

#slytherin skittles #dorcas meadowes #barty crouch jr #evan rosier #pandora rosier #pandora lovegood #regulus black #dinara hcs

[sgterso]

fashion/appearance stats         BOLD what applies to your muse.

BODY

long legs     /     short legs     /     average legs     /     slender thighs     /     thick thighs     /    muscular thighs     /     skinny arms     /     soft arms     /     muscular arms     /     toned stomach     /     flat stomach    /     flabby stomach     /     soft stomach     /     six pack     /     beer belly     /     lean frame     /     muscular frame     /     voluptuous frame     /     petite frame     /     lanky frame     /     short nails    /     long nails     /     manicured nails     /     dirty nails     /     flat ass     /     toned ass     /     bubble butt     /     thick ass     /     small waist     /     thick waist     /     narrow hips     /     average hips     /     wide hips     /     big feet     /    average feet     /     small feet     /     soft feet     /     slender feet     /     calloused hands     /     soft hands     /     big hands     /     average hands     /     small hands     /     long fingers     /     short fingers     /     average fingers     /     broad shouldered     /     underweight (post-wobani)     /    average weight     /     overweight

HEIGHT

shorter than 140 cm     /     141 cm-150 cm     /     151 cm to 160 cm     /     161 cm to 170 cm     /     171 cm to 180cm     /     181 cm to 190 cm     /     191 cm to 2m    /     taller than 2 m.

SKIN

pale     /     rosy     /     olive     /     dark     /     tanned     /     blotchy     /     smooth     /     acne     /     dry     /     greasy     /     freckled

EYES

small     /     large     /     average     /     grey     /     brown     /     blue     /     green     /     gold     /     hazel     /     doe - eyed     /     almond     /     close - set     /     wide - set     /     squinty     /     monolid     /     heavy eyelids     /     upturned     /     downturned

HAIR

thin     /     thick     /     fine     /     normal     /     greasy     /     dry     /     soft     /     shiny     /    curly     /     frizzy     /     wild     /     unruly     /     straight     /     smooth     /     wavy     /     floppy     /     cropped     /     pixie - cut     /     shoulder length     /     back length     /     waist length     /     buzz cut     /     bald     /     jaw length     /     mohawk     /     white     /     platinum blonde     /     golden blonde     /     dirty blonde     /     blonde     /     ombre     /     light brown     /     mouse brown     /     chestnut brown    /     golden brown     /     chocolate brown     /     dark brown     /     jet black     /     ginger     /     auburn     /     dyed red     /     dyed an unnatural color     /     thin eyebrows     /     average eyebrows     /     thick eyebrows    

TATTOOS / PIERCINGS

no tattoos     /     one tattoo     /     a few here and there     /     multiple     /     full sleeve     /     thigh tattoo     /     neck tattoo     /     chest tattoo     /     no piercings     /     ear piercings     /     nose piercing     /     lip piercing     /     tongue piercing     /     eyebrow piercing     /     navel piercing     /     cheek piercing     /     nipple piercing     /     genital piercing

COSMETICS

eyeliner     /     light eyeliner     /     heavy eyeliner     /     cat eyes     /     mascara     /     fake eyelashes     /     matte lipstick     /     regular lipstick     /     lipgloss     /     red lips     /     pink lips     /     dark lips     /     bronzer     /     highlighter     /     eyeshadow     /     neutral eyeshadow     /     smoky eyes     /     colorful eyeshadow     /     blush     /     lipliner     /     light countouring     /     heavy contouring     /     powder     /     matte foundation     /     shiny foundation     /     concealer     /     wears regularly     /     occasionally wears     /     never wears

SCENT

floral     /     fruity     /     perfumes     /     aftershave     /     cocoa     /     moisturizer     /    shampoo     /     cigarettes     /     leather     /     sweat     /     food     /     incense     /     marijuana     /     cologne     /     whiskey     /     wine     /     fried food     /     blood     /     fire     /     metal     /     ice

CLOTHES

jeans     /     tight pants     /     over knee socks     /     tights     /     leggings     /     yoga pants     /     pencil skirt     /     tight skirt     /     loose skirt     /     formfitting dress     /     cardigans     /     blouse     /     button up shirt     /     band t - shirt     /     sweatpants     /     tank top     /     cutoff t - shirt     /     designer     /     high street     /     online stores     /     thrift     /     lingerie     /     long skirt     /     miniskirt     /    maxidress     /     sundress     /     tie     /    tuxedo     /     cocktail dress     /     highslit dress/skirt     /     t - shirt     /     loose clothing     /     tight clothing     /     jean shorts     /     sweater     /     sweater vest     /     khaki pants     /    suit     /     hoodie     /     hareem pants     /     basketball shorts     /     boxers     /     briefs     /     thong     /     hotpants     /     hipster pants     /     bra     /     sportsbra     /     crop top     /     corset     /     ballerina skirt     /     leotard     /     polka dot     /     stripes     /     glitter     /     silk     /     lace     /     leather     /     velvet     /     chemise     /     patterns     /     florals     /     neon colors     /     pastels     /     black     /     dark colors     /     fur     /     faux fur

SHOES

sneakers     /     slip - ons     /     flats     /     slippers     /     sandals     /     high heels     /     kitten heels     /    ankle boots     /     combat boots     /     knee - high     /     platforms     /     stripper heels     /     bare feet     /     loafers     /     oxfords     /     gladiator shoes     /    boots

TAGGED :   @gunbash thank you!! TAGGING :  @strnza , @appleyed , @apaclypse , @pistolslinger , @proditeur , @shireburn (for cassian!) , @khanala and you !

#every time i clicked short i was like 😔 #we stan a tall queen jyn #also her clothing is just pretty plain #relatively form fitting so people can get a hold on it #in neutral colors #also POCKETS she has lots of things to put in them #about. ━ who starts a fire just to let it go out ?

[hecksupremechips]

Shinjiham is cute when it’s romantic but tbh I think i vastly prefer the idea of them being best friends instead. Like, neither of them really saw it coming and weren’t really looking to get another best friend (Shinji has Akihiko, Kotone has Junpei and Yukari respectively) but it happens anyway. Kotone takes a liking to Shinji much faster than she does anyone else and I’d say a big reason is just the fact that he’s so reserved that it allows Kotone to do most of the talking while he just listens and they love this arrangement cuz Kotone doesn’t get to talk about her own interests very much. Though I think some of her needs to talk to Shinji stems from this insecurity that he isn’t happy in the group and she has this people pleasing problem and wants everyone to be happy so she makes a much bigger effort to talk to Shinji. And it’s very unfortunate because Shinji intentionally acts cold and distant because he doesn’t want to form any attachments because he wants to die soon, but aaaaaaaagh dammit this girl just keeps talking to him and being sweet and encouraging him to engage in his interests and share them with the others and he just can’t seem to say no when she’s got those damn puppy eyes. And Kotone is just able to get him out of his shell by being persistent but not in an overwhelming way, she’s very cheerful and supportive of him. And Shinji is able to offer her support by encouraging her to talk about herself and by making sure she’s taking care of herself. They just click really well and make such a positive dent in each other’s lives and it’s all about basic acts of kindness going a long way you know?

#persona #persona 3 #kotone shiomi #shinjiro aragaki #i uh. probably didnt do much here to prove that their relationship is best when its platonic akjsks i mean idk how to convey it #that these two are just so good for each other but that im just not feeling it romantically #and why should i honestly like cant a guy and a girl just be platonic soulmates like me and jackie aljsks #plus i just have other ships with these characters i like better ahem akishinji and mitsuham yall already know #and i just feel really comforted by their relationship being best friends cuz it makes the pocket watch a lot more power of friendship #and it just. irks me the idea that its romantic love that saves shinji and its romantic love that gave him a will to live #cuz first off you can save him without romancing him and also like if you think kotone is the only person he wants to live for #youre just wrong like in fact its very clear in his social link that he feels this strong love for everyone #its literally like why other characters are so ingrained into his link he loves everyone and they love him back #its just kotone who organizes the time for them all to get together plus like idk when ppl say shinji only wants to live after romancing #kotone its like. well hes not gonna have a good time post coma then huh #and i suppose the point being made is he has to learn to live even if his gf isnt there but again like. shes not the only thing he has #idk i just hate this like pedestal romantic relationships are put on and i hate the implications that like #akihiko has been trying for years to protect shinji and his love doesnt matter cuz it isnt some heterosexual romance #grrrrr it just irks me is all and yeah i just think theyre besties who do everything together #kotone is like shinjis emotional support animal that guides him through the scary crowds and shinji is off putting enough to scare away the #meanies that come their way and they have a dress up montage and make cookies

[lady-ashfade]

Our comfort

Platonic!Yan!Camp Half-Blood x Comfort!Goddess!Reader. (Percy, Annabeth, Grover)

—£ Yes I know I haven’t finish the book but I actually couldn’t wait anymore. So, this is me with little knowledge so bare that in mind.

—£ Warnings: Book/show spoilers, Yandere! Behavior, Being bound to a place, Possessive behavior, Obsessive behavior, Manipulation, Characters fighting for the reader’s attention. Short.

You weren’t a known for too long goddess, much younger then rest of the gods. A teenager like age compared to them. It was strange to have more powerful gods look to you for comfort but you love it. As you are the goddess of comfort.

But, as the other gods started to have many demigods you saw how miserable they could get. You hated the fact they didn’t care for their children so you decided to stay at the camp for half-bloods when the time came.

The campers cling to you. You bring a comfort they never quite felt before. It was like a warm hug, like the ones they wanted from their parents.

You couldn’t leave, and at the beginning you were glad to accept that fate.

Almost always you are found surrounded by demigods and they just relax in your comfort. You are the one they go to with every worry in their mind.

Being close to Aphrodite, her seeing you as a sister and a younger child. Stories of your love for one another are still told today, as she gave ideas to the mortals of how great your relationship was. But in reality there wasn’t much to tell.

So her children have a mentality that they are your favorite and because of their mother, they have some sort of claim to you above the others. But that never works because you love the children equally.

The demigods have less nightmares with you around and watching over them.

Ares children fight often for your affection. They will constantly get into fights with others to show they deserve more time with you. Which you always scold them but it never sticks. They kiss their weapons each time to you, like a sign of good luck. Aries children are one of the worsts ones because they get aggressive at times, even with you. But the golds make them stop by punishing them, mostly their father.

Hermes children are hard to explain really. They aren’t aggressive, but they are mischievous. They take their revenge of stealing things from the other campers, pulling pranks. Or trapping some of them up and go straight to you before they can get there. Luke for instance, is always looking around for you and talking about his day. He’s either laying down next to you, or making you watch him train.

Many games of all houses take place just for you.

AnnaBeth, is constantly by your side when she has free time. She scares off people with a glare behind your back, knowing that she could put plan them. She also trains and makes you watcher her and needs your praise. Maybe, somehow you are her older sister. But, sometimes she just chills by your side not saying anything, she’s like a lost duck at times.

Grover however is actually a lost duck. You comfort him when his past missions fail and he loses kids. You are so nice to him and makes him feel special and brave. When he has to leave he keeps a coin in his pocket with your face on it and prays a lot. He’s not possessive much. He’s willing to take what he can get and is just happy to be there. But maybe if someone comes in when he’s “crying” and having you fuss over him then he’ll be a bit mad but never does anything about it.

When a new camper arrives you devote your time to them because they need it a little more. They come into a world they know nothing of, waiting for the parent they hardly know to claim them. You claim them like your own until the time comes.

So when Percy comes you feel something off with him, like he is special and in need of a lot. He lost his mom, taken from the world he knew.

Percy becomes the most possessive out of all of them.

He feels out of place but you are always there to listen to him. It doesn’t help that you follow him to make sure he’s okay. At the beginning you’re both following each other around.

“It’s okay, Percy.” You brush his hair lightly like his mother used to do. “You’ll get claim, and you’ll have glory.” And he doesn’t care if you say that to everyone because you make him feel special. 

Also, you protect the new bloods. So you’ll show up when he gets bullied and just raise one brow and they all back off. Can’t risk making you mad at them.

When Percy gets claimed he’s all alone again, no friends and the campers looking at him funny. Being one of the top threes son isn’t fun or easy. He shares a cabin all to himself.

So he starts to be the worst of them all. Raising his voice when you try and leave him and he manipulates you to stay with him. Can’t you see how alone he is?

He can’t sleep unless he knows your watching over him.

You pick no sides of the war. Your family will figure it out themselves, while you take care of their children.

#disney plus percy jackson #plantonic percy jackson x reader #percy jackson and the olympians x reader #yandere percy jackson #percy jackson x reader #percy jackson #percy jackon and the olympians #platonic #yandere #grover underwood x reader #yandere annabeth chase #annabeth chase x reader #annabeth chase #grover underwood #yandere Grover underwood #yandere greek gods #yandere annabeth chase x reader #I stand peter Johnson

[sixosix]

synopsis in which satoru really needed to start reading the gc more often. solves a lot.

tags slight making out scene… satoru is an asshole but what’s new, satoru is also hopelessly infatuated, all the readers i write are emotionally constipated sorry, getting together(?) fluff bit angsty tho

a/n this is a little stupid and unrealistic but bear with me because this is my first time writing in a looong time to get back in the groove of writing ^__^

Shoko wrinkled her nose as Satoru made the show of tossing a crumpled-up vending machine can into the bin on the other side of the street. It landed perfectly in the middle because why wouldn’t it? Emboldened by the impressed glances of passersby, he reached for Suguru’s pocket, where there was a balled-up paper in his bontan pants. Suguru winced when it was your head instead, where you had started crossing.

Your glare cut a thrill down Satoru’s spine. You huffed and bent down to pick up the trash, your knuckles white, like you were imagining it was Satoru’s head instead. Satoru was just appreciating how gracefully you’d bowed, the curve of your back captivating him for a moment until Suguru elbowed him.

“Stop littering,” Suguru said sternly, but his eyes spelled out that it was not about the littering.

Satoru shrugged. “I wouldn’t have missed if it weren’t for Y/N.” 

Satoru called out after you as you dropped the paper ball into the bin directly. “Oi!” You ignored him and continued walking, a considerable distance lengthening between you and the three. “Ha, you embarrassed?”

“Anyone would be if they were seen with you,” you spat out almost reflexively, then blinked at your own words. Satoru almost swore you wanted to apologize, but you composed yourself by turning your back on him altogether.

Satoru grinned. “It’s okay,” he said. “Shoko and Suguru don’t need to know I had to save your ass from a low-grade curse.”

You didn’t dignify his taunt with a response, but your shoulders tensed for a moment.

“So moody. How does your boyfriend put up with this?” Satoru snickered as he eyed the back of your head. He relished in the way a vein pops on your temple, breathed in the way you looked over your shoulder just to say—

“Shut up, Satoru. I mean it.”

He wasn’t unfamiliar with envious or hateful gazes; it came with his birth, really. Awe and fear and there are impossibles, but not for Gojo Satoru said with contempt—he didn’t care. Yours were different. He took pride in affecting people in ways where they could never ignore him, but the way you looked at him felt thrilling. He wondered if your boyfriend saw how your eyes would set ablaze for Satoru.

But he didn’t actually care, he would say. He never cared for a lot of things. It showed, at times, others would say.

“Whoa, did someone get their heart broken today?” Satoru whistled, his tone lilting upwards in what seemed to be a way to lighten the mood. No moods were lightened.

Your head whipped around to give him a look that had him frozen on the spot. His eyes widened behind his shades. He felt like that paper ball at the moment, about to be squashed flat against your palm. That look felt familiar, but not in the way that he knew he was familiar with because of you. It was familiar because of everyone else.

Suguru shot him a look that said he would’ve shoved him had it not been for his Infinity on. “Satoru.”

You walked on ahead, brushing past them with hiked-up shoulders. You looked like you were about to break at the slightest touch—it looked wrong. You had always looked so strong in Satoru’s eyes. Not stronger than him, of course, but… seeing your lip tremble like that made him itch the wrong way.

Satoru glanced between Suguru and Shoko, lost. “Am I missing something?”

Suguru said, “You didn’t hear?”

“Oh, so you know, but I don’t? What is this? Leave-out-Satoru club? You have a group chat without me?” Satoru did not mean for that to come out that bitter.

Shoko exhaled, smoke faintly billowing from her lips. She regarded Satoru with a look. “Maybe if you actually read our group chat with you, you wouldn’t be so ignorant.”

And so Satoru scrolled through his phone, wounded. Suguru and Shoko whispered among themselves as his eyebrows arched up so high that he looked elated.

“That’s it?” Satoru scoffed. “Trouble in paradise? Y/N almost got hurt by a curse because of some man?”

“Idiot,” Suguru sighed. “You’re also a man.”

Satoru knew what was going on in Shoko’s head with her expression. She was calling him trash. “They’ve been together for years. Before Y/N even met you.”

Satoru bristled. “So?”

“So don’t think of this as some chance,” Suguru said. Since when was he some love expert? “And stop terrorizing. No one brokenhearted would want to see your stupid face.”

He gaped. “So rude!”

And then he backtracked. “And I wasn’t thinking of this as a chance.” He was. “I don’t even like Y/N like that!” He does terribly. “I’m just glad I don’t have to hear from that asshole non-sorcerer again. Have you heard the way he says baby? Even through the phone, it gives me the creeps.”

Suguru hummed thoughtfully. “He was an asshole.”

Shoko laughed. “That asshole got to date Y/N before you, though.”

Satoru decided to spare Shoko, feeling too delighted to let anyone ruin it.

“Did you read all the messages?” Suguru asked.

“Nah.” Satoru stared at the back of your head. “I got the gist of it seeing Suguru’s reply, ‘he was an asshole anyway.’” He flashed his teeth and quickened his pace. “Come on, before Y/N gets flung around by curses again.”

Suguru and Shoko shared a look that he missed completely.

You eyed the plastic bag Satoru was holding out distrustfully.

It was too dark already, but that was no problem for Gojo Satoru. He came here—your room, your door—with a mission in mind. That mission involved ice cream because he saw in movies that people liked to eat ice cream and cry after breakups. You weren’t crying, which relieved him, though he didn’t know why. He wanted to convince himself it was because he didn’t want to deal with tears, but he couldn’t lie to himself well when it came to you.

“Nice try,” you said, pushing it back to his chest. You startled at the cold.

“What— It’s not poison!” Satoru said. He flicked it open and showed you his gift, one you should appreciate for his efforts and thoughtfulness.

“Ice cream?” you said suspiciously. Then it dawned on you. Your lips turned up in a disbelieving smile. He'd take it much better than the look you gave him that day, even when dregs of weariness dulled your eyes. “Were you worried?”

You looked awful, which was probably the norm for someone going through a breakup from a long relationship. Satoru didn’t like your sad face at all. It pissed him off, like some puzzle piece that didn’t fit. Still, to Satoru, he supposed anything was better than not getting to see your face at all.

“Yeah,” he found himself saying before he could think about it.

Your face fell. “Satoru.”

“Just take it, or else I’ll eat it in front of you.”

Your hand gripped the door tighter.

Satoru cleared his throat. “Okay, or you can just shut the door on me and go back to sleep.” And then, silently: “You can just take it, and I’ll leave.”

You stared at him as if expecting him to take it back.

Satoru felt his face warm. “Are you gonna take it or not?”

“It creeps me out when you act nice.”

He glared. “I’m always nice, but I’m not creepy about it.”

Your shoulders relaxed. You took the bag from him with a smile that felt like a shared secret. “Do you wanna come in?”

His first thought was, holy shit, but what came out was, “Sure, I don’t care.”

He had never been in your room before. Shoko was, a lot of times, most of the time. Suguru managed to, here and there, when you needed some help with heavy lifting. You kicked Satoru every time he used to even think about it. Your room was more ordinary than he expected. No posters, flashy souvenirs, or even clothes strewn over your bed. It looked lonely.

There was a box in the corner beside your closet that looked entirely out of place. Satoru must have been staring at it for a moment too long as you said, “Those are my ex’s clothes. I stole many of it, but I don’t want to wear them anymore.”

Satoru’s curious gaze turned into distaste. “Want me to get rid of it?”

“What?” You laughed. “I’ll just give it back.”

Satoru bounded over to the box and crouched, peeling the cover open. “Why not? There’s a dumpster nearby.”

“Well, they were nice. Not my ex, I mean the clothes. Felt expensive—I’d rather he take it back.” Always the goody two shoes.

“Hmmm…” Satoru lifted his head to stare at you. “Did you like wearing them? You can borrow mine. Much better than these cheap knockoffs.”

Your eyes flashed with interest, and Satoru knew he had said the right words. His clothes were no joke.

You blinked at him, a deer in headlights holding a tub of ice cream. “Are— Are you sure? It’s not like I actually need them—”

Satoru wanted nothing more than to see you drowning in his clothes. Instead, he said, “Yeah, I don’t care.”

He shrugged off his jacket and offered it to you. He felt a gust of cold, which should’ve been wrong to him, but he didn’t pay it any mind when you took it from him and stared at it. Your gaze shifted hesitantly between him and the red fabric. Your bottom lip started trembling before you bit it between your teeth, something Satoru wouldn’t have caught if he wasn’t staring. You whirled around and shoved the tub of ice cream in your mini fridge. What a shame. He was really planning for you to share it with him.

Satoru stood up, kicking at the box. He asked, “What were you doing before I left? Boring stuff? Were you watching sad movies without ice cream? It’s a good thing I came over.”

“You didn’t have to, I’m fine,” you said. You slipped into his jacket, the sight arresting him for a moment.

Satoru frowned. Something was definitely wrong. Maybe you were feeling tired? You must have been—emotions tend to wear out a person faster than any physical means. “Hey, lie down on the bed. You look like you’re about to crash.”

“I’m not,” you muttered but followed anyway because you must have felt it, too. “I’m not.”

You winced as your head collided with your pillow. It was unusual for you to succumb to rest while Satoru lingered in the same space.

“Sorry,” Satoru choked out, suddenly feeling guilty by the strong urge to embrace you. He was already crossing far too many lines today. He didn’t want to taint your memory of heartbreak from your ex with him.

You turned to face him, your hair splayed all over the pillow. “What?”

“For yesterday. I didn’t know. This, I mean.”

“You read the messages?”

He nodded. “I did.”

“That’s it? You’re not—” You yawned, blinking. Satoru was performing the highest level of restraint at the moment. “I mean, you’re not, like…”

The air was charged with something dangerous. Satoru looked away, thinking. He wanted to ask, did you expect me to care that much? But he knew the answer to that—he does.

“Satoru,” you said lowly. He shivered at the quiet of the night and how he can almost feel your voice. “You shouldn’t be so nice to someone heartbroken. Don’t you know how dangerous that is?”

Satoru sat on the edge of your bed, “That doesn’t make any sense.”

You looked up at him. Satoru felt want in his belly. It was dangerous, he realized, for him to be alone with you like this. It was wrong—but he never went doing everything right anyway, if it meant he could watch as your eyes flutter, as you longed for something he could never have from you once the wounds on you have healed.

“Doesn’t it?” you said. “You’re confusing me, too.”

Satoru realized his Infinity had been off already, though he didn’t know when. Was it when he sat on the bed to feel the softness of your sheets? Or was it already back then, the moment you opened the door, he was already longing for you to touch him?

“You’re so cruel, Satoru,” you murmured. “I hate you.”

Weakly, Satoru said, “I know. Get some sleep. I’ll leave soon.”

“Don’t leave.”

Satoru screwed his eyes shut, frustrated.

“Satoru.” He could listen to you say his name forever. You sighed his name in a way that felt like what aches in his heart whenever you even look at him.  “You didn’t read the messages, did you?”

“Did I miss something?”

“If you want to kiss me so bad, read it.”

His eyes shot open wide, a bit terrified. “What?” he said, dumbstruck. “Y/N— What?”

Clumsily, with no grace whatsoever, he fumbled with his phone, your words racing in his head. If you want to kiss me, read it. He bluescreened. If you want to kiss me—

you satoru doesnt read the messages here, right?

you i hate him if i never met him maybe i wouldnt have figured that i was not content with the love i had

you how do i even deal with this? i got dumped by my bf and he tells me if i love satoru so much why not just date him instead

you i love him can someone please comfort me

shoko oh no

shoko condolences for liking the most insufferable man on planet earth

suguru im sorry he’s an asshole you deserve better y/n

shoko the trashiest asshole are you sure about this?

you more than anything, unfortunately

Wait.

The asshole they were referring to was Satoru?

Wait.

Satoru jolts up from where he had been hunched over his phone, gaping at you. “Y/N,” he whispered reverently. “Y/N!”

You placed a hand on his chest as he moved towards you, preventing him from crashing into your space. He faltered. “Wait,” you laughed softly, languidly, beautifully, “not now. I’m sleepy.”

“No, fuck that,” he said, helpless. “Y/N!”

“It’s your fault for not reading our group chat.”

‘Kay, well. Satoru’s eyes narrowed like a cat prepared to pounce. “You can’t just make me read that and keep me from you like this. Why were you so mad at me yesterday?”

“Because I love you, and now my life is over,” you said, smiling.

“Say that again,” he demanded. 

“My life is over?”

Satoru was seconds away from crying. “Y/N, please,” he said, “say you love me again. Say it now.”

He held the hand on his chest and kissed it. Kissed it again, the back of your palm, your fingertips, repeating the same three words.

“I love you?” you said.

“Well, don’t sound so unsure about it.”

You laughed. “Do you even like me back?”

Satoru stared from the rim of his glasses. Instead of replying, he tugged you closer with your arm and kissed your jaw. He hoped you would get it—that you would understand. He loved you first.

“More than anything,” he echoed. He looked into your eyes, your lips, torn. “Please, let me kiss you. You’re hurting me.”

“Oh, I get a please now?”

Satoru’s eyes sharply dart down to your lips. Your grin faltered at the intensity of his stare. You swallowed, and he tracked every movement.

“You look a bit manic right now,” you said nervously.

“I’ll show you manic.”

You smiled, bumping your ankle against his back. When he glanced at it, you inched closer. His heart leaped to his throat, threatening to come out and get you.

“Are you seriously going to make a move on me now? My heart is broken, Satoru.”

“Is it really?” He grinned. “Or is it just split with me?”

“Okay, smartass,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Just kiss me already.”

Satoru cut the distance between the two of you. He crashed clumsily, making both of you wince, but he tilted his head and suddenly— much better. He held you closer, hoping he could wipe away any other men from your life with all he could offer—him, needy, longing, crazed.

“Satoru—” you tried, but it was swallowed by his mouth, wishing you could breathe his name from your lips to his. This was almost as good as hearing you say you love him anyway.

#jujutsu kaisen x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #gojo x you #jjk x reader

[rafeandonlyrafe]

fake belly

words: 1.6k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, unprotected sex and implied protected sex, breeding, tummy bulging, lots of pregnancy talk, kind of pregnancy kink but more breeding focused

“you know how tiffy is going to be on vacation for two months?” you hum, sliding onto rafes lap, who instantly wraps his arms around your waist to pull you in, securing your back to his chest.

“yeah, what about it?” rafe responds, only half paying attention as he presses kisses to your shoulder. he’s heard many times how annoyed you are about your friend going away for two whole months, but that you’re also happy she’s getting to explore the world.

“i’m gonna prank her when she gets back.” you state.

“how are you gonna do that? tell her we broke up?” rafe questions, petting over your thighs, unable to hold himself back now that he has you against him.

“no.” you sigh. “it has to be believable.” “whats the plan then, darling?” 

“gonna buy one of those fake bellies on amazon and when she gets back, surprise! i’m pregnant.” rafes eyebrows rise. “can’t you just use a pillow or something?” “no, it’s gotta be realistic.” you don’t admit that you’ve already tried, taking a throw pillow and putting it under your shirt to see if you can mold it to look like a real belly.

“alright, whatever you want baby.” rafe pushes your hair behind your ear, revealing your neck as he buries his face in your skin, kissing and nipping with his teeth.

“you know what i want right now?” you turn so you are facing rafe, knees digging into the couch on either side of his lap. 

“hmm?” rafe hums, eyes glancing to your lips, needing to take them in a kiss. 

“i want you to ride you. right here on the couch.” you press your hips forward, grinding your core down, reaching into rafes pocket where you know he always keeps a condom.

“how funny.” rafe says, his voice already turning deeper, darker. “i want the same thing.”

--

“oh my god, it’s here!” you squeal, having gotten the notification on your phone that your amazon package was delivered.

“your fake belly?” rafe perks up from where he’s been lounging on the couch, scrolling aimlessly on his phone.

“yeah!” you rush to the front door, squealing again when you see the package, grabbing it and bringing it into the living room, surprised that the package is decently heavy.

“are you gonna try it on?” rafe questions, head tilting to the side as he watches you tear into the package before pulling the belly out, complete with a strap to go around your back to secure it to your body.

“oh my god, it looks so real.” you hold up the thick rubber, surprised by how close the color match is to your skin. 

“baby, you gonna put it on?” rafe asks again, knowing that you aren’t truly paying attention in your excitement.

“yeah, i mean i guess? see if it fits.” you shrug. “i’m gonna go try it on upstairs and you can judge how real it looks when i come down.”

--

“ta-da!” you put your hands up in the air as you walk back into the room, now sporting a stretchy dress to mimic a maternity dress, the material extending around your fake belly.

“it looks so real, doesn’t it?” you turn to the side, smoothing your hand over your belly. you can see rafes gaze darken as it lands on you, eyes slowly moving over your body, focusing on the bumb.

“rafe-” before you can finish asking him if he’s okay, rafe has jumped off the couch, making you let out a little squeal that is quickly swallowed by his lips as he takes you in a passionate kiss. he moves you backwards until your back is pressed against the wall, the large bump separating your bodies from molding together but not stopping rafes hands from gripping at your tits, squeezing them through your dress.

“oh my god, what has gotten into you?” you moan as rafe moves his mouth to your neck, sucking hickeys into your skin, knowing they will blossom purple and show everyone who you belong to, but rafe has other plans to show that you’re his as well.

rafe sweeps your feet out from underneath you, making sure to carefully lower you to the ground, thankful for the soft rug in the living room as you splay out on the floor, rafe still kissing along your neck and jaw.

“gonna put a real baby in you.” rafe says, pushing his hips in between your thighs, grinding his crotch against your underwear.

“yeah?” you moan, undulating your hips to rub yourself right back against rafe. 

rafe reaches under your dress and behind your back, undoing the velcro of the fake belly and pulling it away. “you looked hot baby, but i’m gonna swell your tummy up for real.”

you whine as rafes hand then moves to take off your underwear, not pulling away long enough to actually get them down your legs, ripping the fabric as he flings it away.

rafe undoes his pants with one hand while rubbing at your clit with the other, needing to get inside of you and get your cunt pumped full as soon as possible. rafe frees himself from his pants, squeezing at the base of his cock which is already ridiculously hard.

“i’m sorry baby, i just need to fill you up.” rafe suddenly punches his hips forward, burying himself in you fully, knowing he should spend more time opening you up or have an in depth conversation about wanting kids, but he physically can’t hold himself back. 

you grip at the short fibers of the rug as he immediately begins to snap his cock into you, pushing and stretching at your walls all while his thumb continues to play with your clit.

“rafe!” you whine out, squirming as you reach for him, tugging him forward so he has to hold himself up with one elbow against the floor. 

“i’ve got you baby.” rafe says, connecting your lips in a kiss like you clearly wanted. you wrap your legs around his waist, changing the angles of the thrust as he presses against the gummy walls of your inside, making sure every time that his cock buries as deep inside of you as he can.

you grip rafes hair in one hand as you keep his lips against yours, needing to feel the sweetness of is kiss, even if it is mostly just moaning into each others mouth, in sharp contrast to his cock digging into you.

“fuck, rafe, it feels so good.” you whine, being able to feel every detail of his cock now that he’s inside you without a condom for the first time.

“i know, i know.” rafe coos. “my pretty girl, being so good spreading her legs for me. gonna be a real good mama yeah?”

“yeah, fill me up. fill me up please.” you moan, back arching off the ground, pushing your chest into rafes, your dress still bunched up around your stomach. you move a hand to your tummy, imagining what it would be like swelled up.

“can you feel me in there baby?” rafe asks, briefly moving his fingers off your clit to move your hand lower, pressing it into your lower tummy.

“i-i can.” you stutter out, feeling the pushing of his dick against your palm, so big that a bulge forms every time he pushes in deep.

“gonna cum right in your womb, baby. gonna be pregnant for real by the time tiffy gets back.” rafe can barely control himself, sweat forming on his back, sure to wet the shirt that he didn’t bother to take off.

“im close, keep going.” you whine, pressing more open mouth kisses to rafes mouth as his thumb retakes your clit, stroking and flicking over it. 

“never gonna stop, babygirl.” rafe vows. “not until i’ve got my baby in you.” rafe cements his words by moving faster, forcing his cock in at a rapid speed that you’re sure will break you until your high hits like a train, entire body shaking as your cunt pulses around his cock, forcing rafes orgasm quickly as well as he pushes as deep in as ever, and you swear you can feel the spurts of his cum through your skin as your pussy milks him, drawing every last drop that he has out and into your womb.

you’re both breathing heavily, a mess on the floor of the living room, and while rafe is tired, he manages to make sure to carefully pull out as to not disturb too much cum. he holds your legs up, throwing them over his shoulder while he sits back on the floor, chest heaving.

rafe watches your cunt, knowing you are squeezing to keep all the cum inside of you, helping with your legs pulled up on his shoulder to keep the angle, but as soon as rafe sees a drop of white, his finger is moving to your pussy, pumping it back inside of you.

“gentle, oh my god.” you whine, squirming from his harsh fingers on your oversensitive cunt.

“sorry baby.” rafe says, but you can hear the smile in his voice and know that he’s not all that sorry. “i think i broke your fake belly too.”

you look to the side, having completely forgotten that rafe tore off your new delivery and tossed it away, a crack formed in the rubber material of the belly.

“that’s okay, you’re giving me a real one.” you pat your tummy, already feeling a glow to your skin and face.

“damn right.” rafe nods, cock twitching at the thought of getting inside you again. “you gotta think of a different prank for tiffy now.”

“um…” you tap your finger against your chin. “maybe i can tell her we are having twins.” rafe pauses, his mind reeling at the thought of not just one but two and you know you’ve made a mistake when he pushes your legs open, a devious look in his eye.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645

#my fic titles are so uncreative and ass im sorry #i just pick a central theme or like. object #or sentence #idk #im sorry #rafe smut #rafe cameron smut #obx smut #outer banks smut #rafe fanfic #rafe fic #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron fic #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron imagines #rafe cameron one shot #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron x female!reader

[jazzyoranges]

heyy i love how well written your works are, and i was wondering if there could be another tara carpenter x gp reader?? an enemies to lovers kinda thing, smut/fluff but it is totally up to you!! thankss❤️

All Mine

Tara Carpenter x gp!reader

Words: 2.8k

A/n: thank you!! also kind of a combination of this request and a prompt in this request

Warnings: reader has a penis, hate fuck? i think?, bottom!T, top!R, explicit sex, implication of breeding kink, teasing (lots of it), unprotected sex (your pullout game is weak), implication of alcohol consumption, no ghostface au

MINORS DNI!!

Tara hates three things in her life. You, hairless cats, and soggy bread. In that order too

She could handle hating hairless cats and soggy bread, but you? You were in Tara’s friend group. Tara hated you and to make matters worse, she was the only one that did

You were nerdy like Wes and Ethan, quick-witted and funny like Mindy and Amber, athletic like Chad, charismatic like Quinn, protective like Sam, and (allegedly) nice like Anika. You had nearly every one of her friends best traits, but Tara knew why she didn’t like you. You were really fucking annoying

Along with all of your positive traits, you were loud and obnoxiously social. Not that Tara was antisocial or anything, but god you were on a whole other level. It was mildly infuriating how you could go to a party you knew nobody at and somehow come out with more friends than you started with

All those people and you decided Tara was the one you’d annoy. A nudge to her shoulder made Tara look up from where she was putting her head down

“You look like shit” The brunette doesn’t respond and puts her head back down on the table

“Sam tase someone without your permission again?” Tara could practically hear the smirk in your voice

“Please for the love of god shut the fuck up. Your voice is the last thing I need to hear today”

“Woah, someone’s mad” You stick out your tongue in response at the glare Tara sends your way

“Suck my dick, (Y/n).”

“Don’t tempt me with a good time, Carpenter”

Tara abruptly leaves the lecture room. You think you really fucked up this time, but let out a breath of relief when you see that Tara didn’t grab her things. She was probably going to the bathroom to escape you. Which, who would ever want to escape you?

Apparently not Tara because she’s back in her seat just a few minutes before the lecture starts

“Aspirin?” You grab the bottle from a pocket in your bag, shaking it next to her

“You have Aspirin laying around?”

“Anika told me you were at a party, I figured it’s the least I could do”

“You’re trying to drug me, aren’t you?”

“If I was trying to drug you, I would’ve offered it to you at the end of class”

“Why weren’t you at the party?” Tara asks, taking the bottle from you hands and shaking out two tablets before downing them with some water

“Missed me?”

“Nope, just surprised you weren’t blackout drunk”

“Good to know you think highly of me. I was studying, thank you”

“You? Study?” Tara scoffs

“Don’t act like the idea is so out of this world”

“Right, because last time I remember you passing up a party was because your betta fish died and you forced all of us to have a funeral for him at the park”

“Trout’s death is not one to be made fun of!”

Before Tara can respond, the professor starts talking and the lesson begins. Unfortunately her head is still kind of throbbing with only mildly wanting to throw up. She had to accept she wasn’t going to get anything done until that Aspirin kicked in. Especially when she can feel you staring at her

The class goes as smoothly as it can and you notice Tara hasn’t made an effort to even try to take notes. The lesson eventually ends and when everyone gets up, the brunette begrudgingly does too

You bump your shoulders together and Tara glares at you with enough power you actually manage to feel fear for a split second until you realize it’s Tara. The girl was like two apples tall. Two and a half on a good day

The brunette doesn’t realize you were handing her a paper so you physically have to place it in her hand. Her eyebrows furrow in confusion

“What is this?”

“Notes, you need them”

“I’m not buying you Raising Canes if that’s what you want”

“Since I’m such a good friend, I’ll give it to you free of charge. Just make sure to bring it back with minimal damage”

“You’re not gonna make me Paypal you fifty bucks?” Tara doesn’t have any classes for the next few hours so you two made a point to walk to your next class. She didn’t know how it started, but you were okay to talk to when you weren’t being annoying

“In my defense, Trout recently died”

“We buried him in the fucking park, I don’t think that costs money”

“It was condolence money. I made everyone pay and I think it was pretty genius”

“I really do wonder how you still have friends”

//-//

Someone knocks on the door of you and Anika’s apartment. When you realize your roommate is probably listening to music that was too loud to be healthy, you get up from your very comfortable bed

You don’t remember ordering food and you’re pretty sure Anika didn’t invite Mindy over, so the person behind the door was probably just the nice old lady across the hall that made cookies for everyone

For better or for worse, you’re met with a Tara Carpenter that’s caught off guard when you open the door. Tara usually sees you in well put together outfits so you can only imagine her surprise when she sees you wearing boxers that outlined your cock and a hoodie that barely covered it up

“Eyes are up here- What brings you to the Mojo Dojo Casa House?”

“Can’t you just let me in?” Tara’s cheeks burn in embarrassment. Thank god you just glossed over… it

“It’s protocol you identify yourself and state why you’re here” You lean on the doorframe, actively blocking the entrance to your apartment. Tara knew this was a losing battle and hated how you looked hot while winning

“Anika and I have a project we need to work on”

“You didn’t identify yourself” you’re wearing that same dumbass smirk you have after telling a horrible joke

“Tara. Tara fucking Carpenter.”

“Unfortunately I don’t think we know any Tara Fucking Carpenters. Guess you can’t come in” you shrug

“God give me patience.” Tara rubs at her temples like you’re giving her a headache

“Isn’t it god give me strength?”

“If god gave me strength, you would be dead.”

“Point taken, but you still need a password”

“You didn’t say anything about a password!”

“Yeah, well, I don’t know if you’re the real Tara or not. Say a fact about me only the real Tara would know”

The brunette pretends to think for a moment, even putting her hand on her chin and looking off into the distance for effect. When she notices you’re starting to get suspicious of her antics Tara pushes you though the door, successfully getting in without a password or confirmation

You stumble back almost like a cartoon character and you can hear Tara let out a small laugh. You can see the dimples on her cheeks whe she tries to cover it up with her hand

“Nika, your friend’s here!” You lead Tara to Anika’s room, making sure to knock loudly while Tara’s busy either checking you out or trying to blow you up with her mind. It’s unclear, but you have to lean towards the latter

“Isn’t Tara your friend too?” Your roommate opens the door, headphones around her neck

“No.”

“Yes.” Both of you say in unison. The look you give each other is almost comical with how Tara’s glaring while you’re smiling. Anika stares blankly between you two and it eventually starts to make more sense

“Stop eye fucking each other, we have work to do” Anika pulls Tara into her room. You shrug, heading off to probably yell at ten year olds on Fortnite or something

“We were not eye fucking” the shorter girl huffs, sitting on Anika’s bed

“I literally opened my door and thought you two were about to make out”

“I didn’t expect to get interrogated when I came here!” Tara flops onto her back, covering her eyes and trying (and failing) to stop the red that dusted her cheeks

“Whatever, I’ll get you to crack later”

“Kill yourself.”

//-//

Tara doesn’t understand what she’s feeling when she sees some random girl grind against you

It’s like that one scene in Euphoria when Maddy and Nate stare each other down at the school dance, except you were looking far more more bored. That is, until you see Tara glaring at both of you

Like a switch turned on, you’re suddenly more interested in the girl. You encourage her grinding with a hand kneading her hip, using your other hand to take a sip of your drink. And just like Maddy, she’s tempted to find Chad to do the same to you. She doesn’t.

Tara fucking hated you. But she also needed you now.

Making you jealous would take too long. In theory she had the time, but her hunger to taste you was making her do things she would’ve never thought of before. One of those things being grabbing your hand and leading you away from any girl that tried to even look at you.

The girl who was grinding on you calls her a bitch among other things, but Tara knows it’s worth it when she sees you smile at her like she’s your entire world. Because she was your entire world

She leads you into an empty guest bedroom of the house, locking the door before getting close enough to you she can smell the alcohol in your breath

“What’s all this about, Tar?” You grin. Tara doesn’t know if she wants to kiss or slap that smirk right off of your annoying face

“You know what this is fucking about.”

“Do I? I think you should spell it out for me.”

“You know, I’ve had it with your attitude.” Tara jabs a finger at your chest, the back of your knees hitting the end of the bed. In one motion you sit down and bring Tara down with you. You make her sit on your cock

“Anyone ever tell you you’re fucking hot when you’re mad?” You smile, finding the blush on Tara’s cheeks absolutely adorable

“Only you.”

“Good. How about we keep it that way, baby?”

“You’re so annoying.” The brunette cups your face with both of her hands, your lips fitting together like they were always meant to

“I know I am” You say in between kisses, your hands finding their way up Tara’s shirt, kneading the spot right under her boob. She forces your hand to stimulate her nipple, eliciting a moan from her mouth

“You’re so pretty, Tar. I can’t believe only I get to see you get all hot and bothered” You smile breathlessly

“Fuck. S-Stop talking like that or you’ll make me like you” Biting a hickey on Tara’s neck, you take of her shirt and her bra in a flurry of heat

“I bet you’ll like me even more when you’re bouncing on my cock” You force Tara to grind on the bulge in your pants, earning you a small whimper that makes you smile

“C’mon, all you have to do is admit you like me and I’ll fuck you better than anyone has” It should be considered torture how much you were teasing Tara. You were biting hickeys on her neck, playing with her nipples, all while a few layers of fabric were the only barriers between your dick and her pussy. Fuck you knew how to overstimulate a girl

Laying Tara on on the bed, you could really tease the brunette better in this position. You can feel the Tara’s wetness through her soaked panties, and you’re sure she can feel the pre-cum leak out of your cock. Your hands are on her hips as if you were thrusting, yet you deny her and your pleasure for the sake of being an ass

“Don’t you want me to ruin you for anyone else? I promise I’ll stretch you out so good no other guys’ cock can fill you up like me.”

“Fuck you. I hate you, you’re s-such a fucking asshole, you know that?” Tara reaches for anything she can hold onto, your arms being the nearest thing

“I can think ways you could ‘hate’ me even more” You smile when Tara reaches to take off her panties but you find her hands first. You intertwine your hands together and the action is so soft Tara almost forgets about the situation she’s in. Almost

“Whenever I masturbate I think of you, did you know that? God, sometimes I have these hookups and all I can think about is you cumming around my cock”

Tara thinks it’s embarrassing how she’s about to cum just by your sickeningly sweet voice and the constant friction between you two. Tara also thinks she’d rather die than miss an opportunity of a lifetime.

Sure you were a cocky pain in the ass, but you were her cocky pain in the ass.

“Fuck- I admit it! I think you’re the hottest fucking person in the world. I like you.” Tara looks straight into your eyes, and the smile reserved only for her makes another appearance

“That wasn’t so hard, was it Tar?”

“I still hate you.” You unbuckle your belt and unbutton and unzip your jeans with watchful eyes. You pull down your boxers just enough so that your cock springs out, making Tara’s mouth water. Fuck you were big

Pulling Tara’s panties to the side, she’s dripping wet when you swipe your finger across her slit

“Fuck- (Y-Y/n)” Tara sings when you lick up her juices with your tongue. She buries her hands in your hair, bringing you closer to her dripping cunt. You moan at her taste and the vibrations are almost enough to get Tara to cum. Almost

You rise to your knees, lining up your dripping cock with the shorter girls dripping pussy. You decide to be evil and rub your dick against her slit before easing your tip into her hole. It was infuriating how slow you were going and Tara remembers why she hated you in the first place

Tara’s whining and whimpering under you and you can’t remember a time where you’ve been happier than in this moment

Tara on the other hand, has never hated you more in her life than in this moment

The younger Carpenter decides to be bold when she grabs your shirt and forces you forward. You’re caught off guard and over half of your cock finds itself nestled tightly in her pussy as you catch yourself with your arms

“Y-You’re sneaky, aren’t ‘cha” With your face so close to hers, Tara realizes you’re as much of a victim to your teasing as she is. She can tell it’s taking everything inside of you not to fuck her raw until your dick is limp and Tara’s legs are sore

“You can go fast. I can handle it, baby” Tara cups your face with her hand, stroking your cheek with such softness like you aren’t literally lodged into her cunt like a dog in heat

With that confirmation, you give Tara a peck on the lips and buck your hips in such a way you hit that spongey spot inside of her

The sound of skin slapping is louder than the blasting music downstairs, but your grunting and Tara’s moaning combined are louder than both. Thank god the owner of the house was your friend because you don’t know if you could come out of that room if this is what Tara sounded like

“Fuck- I’m close” You say a little too breathlessly for your liking

“Don’t p-pull out.” The shorter girl uses your shirt as leverage to keep you inside of her. Your eyebrows furrow in confusion

“T-Too messy, don’t feel like cleaning up.” Tara answers between moans like she can read your mind

The familiar heat you’re so used to finally snaps. Wrapping her legs around yours, you cum with almost a guttural whine. Your orgasm is enough for Tara to have hers and you fuck her through it, making sure none of your cum drips out of her hole

You pull out and a few dribbles of your semen flow out of her cunt. You plug her pussy with your fingers and Tara is far too sensitive to handle it

“D-Don’t tell me you’re tired already?” Tara jokes, but all air in her lungs leave when you let out a laugh of your own

“I’ve got all night, love.”

Tara has to remember to make you buy her a morning after pill.

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #tara carpenter x reader #scream #tara carpenter #scream 6 #tara carpenter scream #mindy meeks martin #chad meeks martin #anika kayoko #samantha carpenter #quinn bailey #ethan bailey #wes hicks #amber freeman

[sinofwriting]

Private Professor - Max Verstappen

Words: 5,576 Summary: For years and years, Max has claimed that he has a girlfriend, but no one has ever met her and he refuses to talk about her with the media. And it’s far easier to believe that he’s lying when no proof of a girl exists. Note(s)/Warning(s): Small Age Gap (Reader is nearly two years younger), Some Angst, Mostly Fluff, Jos Verstappen. Thank you so much to the anon that requested this! I had a lot of fun writing it!

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At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship is all blood rushing to their cheeks, fluttering hands, kisses that last too long and not long enough, panting breaths, and hickeys below shirt collars. It’s whispers of forever, of I’ll take you here and there. That house will be ours one day. Whatever you want, you’ll have. I’ll be on break, you’ll come home and I’ll be waiting. You’ll follow me everywhere and I’ll do the same.

It’s promises they don’t realize they shouldn’t be making but do. It’s sweet nothings and petty fights that last a day before they’re back in each other's arms. It’s pretending not to notice how his dad watches him amused as he walks calmly out of the door before sprinting over to her house and sneaking into her bedroom. It’s her parents pretending not to hear the thud of him falling into her bedroom and the light giggles their daughter makes.

At fourteen and sixteen, their relationship changes. It’s no longer seeing each other when he doesn’t have a race or training and is home, no Red Bull duties to be done. It’s long phone calls, texts, snapchat streaks, learning how to video call. It’s carrying two power banks with them everywhere and Max buying them both expensive phone cases that charge their phones. It’s falling asleep on the phone while the other is just beginning their day. He attends classes with her, while she listens to him train. He goes to red bull meetings and pretends not to have the light sound of breathing in his ears from her falling asleep while studying or doing her homework.

Fifteen and seventeen, brings them peace. She’s still studying like a mad woman at Harvard of all places, but he’s got an F1 seat of all things. He’s in F1. He suddenly has more things to do but more free time. When he’s not racing or at the factory or doing weird press things that make him want to rip his hair out, Jos is putting him on a plane to America, to her. And he soaks up all the time with her he can, despite it being filled with her studying, attending classes, and forcing actual food down her throat which her parents both thank him for.

It also brings the stupidest thing in the world; the doubt and disbelief that he has a girlfriend.

Carlos is the first to bring it up upon seeing his home screen that’s just all black, not even the default that iphone has.

“No girlfriend?” Max frowns at him, pocketing his phone and sending a glance over to where his father is standing and talking to his race engineer. “What?” “Your home screen, it’s all black. You don’t have a girlfriend?” Carlos is teasing, joking. The whole paddock already knows that Jos Verstappen wouldn’t let his son have a girlfriend, not now when he’s got an F1 seat. Such a thing would be a distraction and Max isn’t allowed those. Max isn’t allowed friends on the grid either. Carlos wonders though how much the last part is just a Jos thing. “I do.” Then he says her name, all soft and sweet in a way Carlos never thought Max could be. It’s nearly enough for him to believe Max, but then he catches a glimpse of Jos and shakes his head, clapping the seventeen year old on the back.

He is the first to not believe Max, but far from the last. It’s Daniel next, Christian, Esteban, Pierre, Sebastian, Lando, every interviewer that asks.

It doesn’t matter because at seventeen and nineteen, she gets her second degree and begins the nightmare of getting her doctorates in education and history. And he picks out a ring before making his father hide it away. And instead of him constantly flying to her, she’s flying to him. Hiding out in his Monaco apartment, turning his living room into a disaster zone as she spreads her things around to study.

The mess drives him crazy, but he doesn’t move anything no matter how much his hands itch to do so, instead just pressing a kiss to the top of her head before pressing himself in between her and the couch. Grinning when she sends him a look, a clear don’t be a distraction, before giving him a kiss.

His days in Monaco when she’s there are spent in the living room after training, playing fifa or watching some documentary for one of her classes with her, and poking at her lightly because he doesn’t know shit about history but he’s still able to remember countries quicker than her.

They turn eighteen and twenty and nearly get married when her family goes on vacation to Vegas, dragging the two along despite them not being able gamble, which is the only reason her parents had chosen Vegas. The only thing that stops them from getting married is him not being a US citizen and her visa just being for school. It’s a fucking wakeup call for him and he can’t help but pester her about places in Monaco to live.

She entertains it for all of five minutes before she’s cupping his face and kissing him. When she pulls back, she’s shaking her head. “As long as it has you and four bedrooms, I don’t care.” “Four?” “We’ll need our own offices and a guest room.”

It’s barely anything for the real estate agent to work with but he doesn’t care. He wants something that’s at least four bedrooms, two baths, a decent kitchen, and a view. She liked the Monaco sunrise and sunset and he planned on letting her be able to see it anytime they stayed in Monaco.

His agent gets back to him in a week and he ignores the look on Daniel’s face when he comes over for the first time. Ignores the jokes about it being too big for one person just like Daniel ignores him saying that he has a girlfriend.

“If you had one, I’d have seen a picture of her mate. The whole world would.”

Max still remembers the way his jaw had twitched at the thing everyone said. That if he had a girlfriend, they’d have seen a picture of her, that he’d be showing her off every second, have her at the races, been seen with her. When Max had made it abundantly clear that the worst part of driving was the media, the fame. So why would he ever subject someone he loves to that when they both weren’t ready for that?

Because they weren’t. He wasn’t ready for another part of his life, one of the most important parts, to be something for everyone to look at and dissect. And she wasn’t ready for it either. Not when she was doing so much studying. She barely felt like she had time for him, which he denied and hated vehemently, she didn’t have time for the online vitriol of being a girlfriend to a high profile athlete. And she didn’t need to be harassed as she attended classes and studies groups and such if someone recognized her and didn’t like that she was with him.

Not showing any pictures or videos of her was also easy for him. It wasn’t because he didn’t have any, he had hundreds. But they were pictures and videos of her, only meant for him. Not because they were dirty in nature, though some were, but because how she was in them was something only she allowed him to see. It was photos of her with a finger pressed to her top lip as she glared at her books, videos of her sitting on something too tall for her feet to touch the ground and letting them swing. It was her smiling at him, all fond, shy and in love.

It was them wrapped up in each other's arms and love. Her in between his legs or the other way around. Her sitting on his lap as Vic stole his phone to video them laughing and exchanging kisses. Her giggles as she tries not to fall asleep as reads her books to him over facetime. It’s her in her purest form and he doesn’t want the people in his life who are so quick and sure to not believe him to get to see that.

Nineteen and twenty-one, she officially co-owns their place in Monaco and he starts scouting out property in Belgium and land in France that’s somewhat close to the principality he lives in. It was too early to start building a house to live in forever, not when they weren’t sure what they wanted to live in forever with their kids, but it wasn’t too early to buy the land for it.

It also leads to their biggest fight in years.

“Max!” Her nails are digging into her arms. “I’m not saying that. I’m saying that I want to help, that I can pay. I have money!” “And you don’t need to!” He’s yelling as well, face red with anger. “I’ve got money too! You don’t need to pay for shit when I can.” She shakes her head. “Really? Is that how it's always going to be? I won’t ever get to pay for anything? Just have a salary and trust fund wasting away.” She scoffs, giving another shake of her head. “Is it about being the breadwinner? Because don’t worry Max, I’m well aware that you’ll always have more money than me. Doesn’t mean I can’t contribute to our life.” “Fuck.” He murmurs seeing the tears brimming in her eyes but not falling, the hurt in her words. “It’s not about that at all. It’s not about being the breadwinner.” “Then what is it about?” Her voice is high pitched. “You won’t let me pay for a single thing! I can’t buy groceries without you slipping money back into my wallet. I can’t help pay the bills and now you won’t let me help buy the land that will have our house on it. What is it about Max?” “You’re mine.” Her eyes widened at his quiet but firm tone. “You’re my girlfriend, the love of my life. One day my wife and the mother of my children.” He runs his tongue over his teeth, feeling words and feelings he’s only ever really let come out during sex or when they're both so drunk they barely remember anything the next day. “I want to pay for everything because it’s providing for you, it’s making sure you’re eating, sleeping somewhere safe, getting the best, most accommodating flights. It’s knowing that I’m providing for my family.”

“Max,” she breathes out, arms falling away from her chest and then she’s moving closer, resting a hand over his racing heart. “You want to provide for me?” He nods. “For our future kids?” “Yes.” “So do I. So, we’re going to work on this. You want to buy the land, you can.” He looks at her distrusting, because this didn’t sound like working on it. “But, I get to pay for groceries when I go out for them, without you paying me back. I get to pay for netflix because I use it more and spotify.” She adds. He frowns at her. “I don’t like it.” “Too bad and I’m not done. In return, you get to pay the bills, put gas in the car for me,” he grins at that. “Pay for my flights and we are going to open a joint account to put an equal amount of money in every month. For things like vacations, anniversary dinners, and the kids. Because it’s important that I get to help provide for them too. And when we build that house together, I want to pay at least half of the contracting fee. I’ll let you pay for the rest.” “I want to pay for any of the kids' interests. Like art, ballet or karting.” “No deal.” She shakes her head and he’s frowning again. “You can pay for all the karting, it will mean more. But I want it out of the shared account for the other things. Unless,” she pauses. “Unless,” he encourages. “If any of them decides to go to university early like me, I want to pay fully for it.” “No.” It’s quick and now she’s frowning as well. “It’s our children and their education. Shared account.” “Their first degree.” He shakes his head. “And if it’s their only degree?” Her brows press together, it was a good point. Just because they decided to go to university early like her didn’t mean they’d go for more than one degree. “First year.” His eyes narrow as he looks at her, but he nods. “First year. But only of the first degree.” “First degree only.” She agrees.

It’s quiet between them before Max lets his face soften, lips twisting slightly into a smile. “Are we done fighting?” She laughs, but nods. “Yeah. We’re done fighting.” “Thank god.” He breathes, pulling her into his arms and burying his face into the crook of her neck. “Let’s not do that again.” “Not anytime soon at least.” “I love you.” He murmurs. “I love you too.”

Twenty and twenty-two has their families asking when exactly they’re getting married, wondering why there isn’t a ring on her finger and their only saving grace is their time spent in Monaco together away from them all. But when it gets to be too much as pressure builds as she tries to finish her doctorate in education while still working on her doctorate for history, it’s Jos that steps in for her and Max.

The three of them shared a complicated relationship. She could never like him for the parent he was to Max growing up. From the near abuse he hurled at him when he failed, the pressure he put on a child, the leaving him in a foreign country for a few hours when he wasn’t even a teenager more than once. But she did love him, because Max loved him and in his own way he loved Max and he showed that with his support of their relationship when everyone expected for him to have a problem with it, label it as a distraction. And now as a few years had passed and Max was comfortable in his F1 seat, he was Max’s fiercest defender, unwilling to back down, but would if Max told him too. And he was her fiercest defender as well. Glaring at jokes about her not needing a degree with the money Max made, not forcing her to join on trips when she was busy with school or questioning her support of Max because she didn’t attend races.

So, neither Max or her are surprised when Jos steps in when her grandparents are trying to back them into a corner as to why she doesn’t have a ring on her finger and how they have a number for a wedding planner and she should really give her a call, when all they want is to get breakfast before retreating to their room so she can resume her studies while Max hovers around her while going over his own work.

She hadn’t been thrilled at first when she learned that Jos would join them on the trip, knowing that Sophie wouldn’t be there, but now she was grateful and she made sure to squeeze his shoulder before leaving the kitchen and scheduled a nice quiet dinner for herself, Max and Jos as thanks.

The media becomes relentless when they’re twenty-two and twenty-four and Max wins his first championship. Because there is no girlfriend in sight despite the now champions thanks for her support and love. They tear Max apart for creating a fake girlfriend that has no name or face, call him unloveable with his fake championship. Some tear her apart as well, calling her gold digger, selfish, undeserving, fans of Max and the sport do as well.

It was supposed to be a happy moment for him, one of if not the best in his life, but it’s tainted, ruined, and as soon as he’s home with her in Monaco, all she can do is hold him and pretend that the texts from his friends begging him to go out and get laid don’t make her cry later in the shower.

Despite the texts and a bold one from Daniel about hiring him a prostitute, she forces Max to go out, to celebrate with the drivers in Monaco, to get drunk and have fun, and forget what the media is saying about him.

“I’m coming back if one of them even hints at a prostitute.” He tells her and she laughs, but she knows that he’s serious. He’s never even once considered cheating on her and one of their first serious fights had been about her trying to convince him and herself that she’d be okay if he got lonely while he was traveling and needed someone. He hadn’t believed it for a second and it had been one of the few times he had been so pissed at her that he couldn’t even stomach to look at her.

“Am I making a mistake, mom?” She asks, barely five minutes later, not even bothering saying hi when her mom greets her over the phone. “No.” Her mom’s voice is firm and has her blinking away tears. “But,” “No.” Her mom cuts her off. “Sweetheart, I can’t even begin to try and understand Max and yours relationship. But this, this privacy that you two have, that’s not a mistake. It’s rough right now and it will be. And it will come back later when you two do decide to be public, but it’s not a mistake. You two both made the difficult, heartbreaking, mature decision to keep it private for both of yours sake.” “I know.” She whispers, wiping away tears. “You both still need privacy and there is no shame in that. Max isn’t ready and neither are you. As far as I’m concerned the only mistake you two have made is still not being married with a baby on the way.” “Mom.” She groans and her mom laughs. “I know, I know. Just remember that despite the seven or so years you’ve been together, that you two are still young, still doing so much growing.” “Thank you.” “Of course.”

When Max arrives home hours later, drunkenly stumbling around and into bed, she’s not surprised by the smell of liquor clinging to him or the drunken murmurings he’s pressing to her skin. She is surprised by the deep inhale he takes and the splutter that makes her turn to face him.

Eyes a little blurry from sleep and wine, she makes out squinted eyes, flushed face, and a frown.

“You’re drunk.” “You’re drunk.” She replies, curling closer to him. “You’ve been crying.” “Yeah.” He slips an arm around her, pulling her closer. “We’re going to feel like shit when we wake up.” “Yeah.” He chuckles, brushing lips over her forehead. “That bad?” “That bad.” She nods.

At twenty-three and twenty-four, the itch that Max has had since he was nineteen, one that’s grown worse and worse as the years have gone by, is too persistent and he takes a quick trip to his fathers house the day after she turns twenty-three and returns with a ring and the promises they made at fourteen and sixteen, promising them all over again, as she stares at him with a smile and teary eyes.

“I’d be stupid to not want to marry you Max.” She tells him when he slips the ring on her finger, breathing a sigh of relief when it goes on, fitting perfectly. “You’re going to marry me.” She nods, giggling at his blown pupils and silly grin. “Yes, I am.”

It seems stupid to be so giggly and flustered about it, so love sick, when they’ve talked about it so much. About getting married, about houses, kids, life after racing and teaching. But it’s different with the ring on her finger. Not more real or tangible. Just more.

“I know I proposed early.” She shakes her head, wrapping her arms around his neck and his arms eagerly wrap around her waist. “It’s perfect. I know we talked and had plans, but this is perfect. Besides, I’ve got news of my own that’s early.” “Oh?” Max’s eyebrow raises and he knows it’s not possible, not really with her religious use of the birth control shot and the way they mainly use condoms, more for convenience than anything else, but his eyes drift down to her abdomen that’s exposed. There’s no difference, but he can imagine what it would look like, he can also imagine what it will look like in a few hours. “Not that.” Her bottom lip is pulled between her teeth. “I got an email about my viva exam.” “Your viva? But you haven’t submitted your thesis yet.” “Actually,” “Stop.” He lifts a hand to press it against her mouth. “You submitted your thesis already? You completed it?” She nods, her laughter muffled by his hand and he drops it. “Well, what did it say? The email.” “Once I get to the ceremony, I will officially hold a doctorate in education and history.” He kisses her before she can say anything else.

“Unbelievable my love, unbelievable. Two doctorates by twenty-three.” He shakes his head, smiling wide. “You know what that means right?” He shakes his head again, unable to think of anything. Too overcome with his proudness and love for her. “I’ll have my position at Harvard right after the ceremony.” Blue eyes widen. “And they agreed to let me teach a mix schedule for all of 2022, but when the official school year starts for 2023, I’ll just be teaching digital.”

Twenty-three and twenty-five has them weathering the media storm once again as Max wins his second world championship. It’s worse this time. Not because he says more than he did last time about her or says her name or slips up and calls her his fiancee and not girlfriend like they agreed to. But because this championship no one can deny is his and she’s still not there. Too busy in a different continent with the start of the school year as she teaches by herself for the first time since earning both her doctorates.

It’s also not as bad this time, because some of his friends do think that he’s seeing someone, not the girlfriend of years, or even really a girlfriend, but just some random girl that understands he’s too busy for an actual relationship and willing to put up with him spouting to the media and everyone else that he’s in a committed relationship. She doesn’t have time to focus on the media and fans that believe she exists, she barely did last year, but this year she really doesn’t.

“You know,” she says five days after he’s won his championship and they are in the house they have stayed in for the past two years when she has to be at Harvard and he wants to join her. “Around this time next year, we’ll be public.” His face does a weird contortion at the thought. There was a giddiness to the idea, to the thought, but also dread. “That means,” she continues when Max doesn’t say anything. “That you have ample time to figure out how you want to tell people.” “How I want to?” “Yeah. This is your world, your friends, colleagues, nightmares,” she adds and they both laugh. “You can decide how exactly you want to get back at them for not believing you.” “I’m not going to be cruel.” “No.” She lifts her hand and lets her pointer finger trace over his lips. “You’ve never been a cruel person, Max. But you can be a menace.” His eyes light up at that. “Oh. And you don’t care?” She shakes her head, “This is all you and I’m more than happy to be along for the ride.”

She is twenty-four and he has just turned twenty-six when he decides to enact his plan that he came up with so many months ago.

He had made a reservation for a private hall in Monaco months ago, hired a party planner to take care of the finer details, but sorted himself out the place and the food and drinks that would be served. And the day after he turns twenty-six, he picks up the large stack of enveloped invitations he had made and carefully packs them in his suitcase for Qatar. He was winning the championship there and he’d be damned if he didn’t make an already memorable weekend even better.

It’s the first time in a decade she has traveled with him to a race to actually watch the race and not just be there at the hotel to support him as she studies and he can’t help the smugness and happiness that radiates off him when he shows up to the track for the first day.

He’s got his backpack over his shoulder, but the invitations are already in his hands, ready to be passed out.

“Max!” Charles greets when he arrives in the driver's debrief room. All twenty of them, plus reserves, team principals, and Daniel sitting and standing around as they wait for the FIA representative to get here. He looks down at his watch, noting that it will at least another ten minutes, before his eyes flicker to a member of the Red Bull staff that’s standing against a wall, but just like he asked, they’ve got a camera in their hands and there’s another one standing leaning against the opposite wall, also with a camera. “Charles. Safe flight?” “Always. What do you have there?” “Ooh,” Daniel chimes in, moving closer and looking at the envelopes in his hands. “What do you have there?” He smirks and he can see Daniel’s grin flatter at the sight for a brief second. “Invitations.” He says, before tossing or passing them around to the different drivers and Christian. He nearly avoids giving Lando one just to be a shit but Toto isn’t there to give it too and it wouldn’t be the same to give it to a different team principal jokingly.

“What is it for?” Carlos asks, eyeing the dark envelope like a lot of the other drivers are, suspiciously. He shrugs, eyebrows raising when he sees the way Lando is feeling the envelope. “Mate, I’m not giving you money.” Lando frowns, before ripping it open. “You’ve got more than enough to spare.” Seeing Lando open his, has the rest of them following suit.

“Dear friends of Max Verstappen,” George reads out and the wording earns a few snorts but he continues. “You are invited to celebrate at the” he pauses squinting at the french on the page. “The Salle des Étoiles” Charles says. “Cheers, mate. You’re invited to celebrate on the 8th of November at 4pm.” His eyebrows furrow. “Celebrate what?” Max watches from the corner of his eye as Christian flips the invitation over and nearly chokes.

“Your engagement?” “Your what?” “Engaged?” “Impossible.” “Lies.”

The whole room is filled with denial and panic and Max just smiles, nearly laughing when Logan thrusts his invitation into James’ hands and asks the team principal if it’s true.

“Max, you aren’t engaged, right? Like that was a fuck up with the print place?” Daniel is nearly pleading, begging, and Max would feel sorry, but for the past ten years he’s been telling people he isn’t single, and sure he’s never shared many details, but they all refused to believe or even consider it. He ignores him, instead looking at the room in large. “You’ll meet her tomorrow. She’s very excited about it.” And as if he planned it, the FIA official walks into the room and no one can question him.

When the meeting is over he manages to avoid all of them except for Christian, who nearly drags him into a private room.

“Is this real?” Max raises an eyebrow at the way he’s waving around the invitation but nods. “Yes.” “You’re really engaged.” “Yes, Christian. I am.” The older man stares at him, not blinking before sighing and running a hand over his face. “Is she pregnant?” “What?” “The girl you’ve been sleeping with recently. Is she pregnant, is that what this is about? Because you don’t have to marry her.” “No one is pregnant.” He reassures, not even able to find any anger for Christian and his assumption. The older man sighs again before sitting down and slumping in the chair.

“You’ve had a girlfriend since you were sixteen.” There’s regret, guilt, and sorrow in his voice. “Yes.” “And I never believed you.” He shrugs, it had hurt yes, but he had always understood Christian’s disbelief in it over anyone else's. “No.” Christian nods. “And I owe you both an apology for that. I should have believed you Max.” “Thank you.” “But really, ten years and you’ve just put a ring on it?” Max groans, rolling his eyes. “You sound like our families.”

They are twenty-four and twenty-six when Max wins his third championship, with the sprint race of all things, and the whole world watches as he’s enveloped by his team before he’s tugging off his helmet and kissing the unfamiliar girl that’s between Christian and Jos, shielded from the rough crowd of Red Bull mechanics, crew, and such. They are twenty-four and twenty-six when everyone finds out that Max had been telling the truth the whole time.

Just about a month later, she eases into the spot between Max and the arm of the couch, eagerly tucking herself closer to him when he drapes an arm over her shoulders.

“You alright?” She nods, “Yeah, Vic and Tom finally left.” Max snorts, “It only took them thirty minutes.” “A record for them.” She grins, before looking at the other people surrounding them, or rather Max. She wasn’t surprised that Max had taken to quickly grabbing a few people and secluding themselves in a corner. She was a bit surprised by the people however.

Charles and Daniel which isn’t too surprising, but there’s the three rookies of the season, Liam, Oscar, and Logan, as well, a little surprising, but nothing compared to the two Mercedes drivers also in front of her.

“You aren’t trying to get Lewis to play paddle are you?” Lewis laughs, shaking his head. “I get enough of competing with him on the track. There’s no convincing me there.” “It’s fun, Lewis.” Charles says. “You should join. George you too. Make it Mercedes versus,” he pauses, eyebrows scrunching together as he tries to think of something to call himself and Max. “Lestappen.” She offers, inching away a bit when Max pinches her side. Charles doesn’t notice the pinch, just smiles at her, before looking at the two British drivers. “Yes! Mercedes versus Lestappen.” His eyebrows then furrow. “What is Lestappen?” “Mate, you don’t want to know.” Liam tells him. Logan chuckles, “I don’t know. Either he finds out now or he finds out when he googles it later.” “Googles it.” George murmurs, mocking the American accent that Logan has. “Bloody Americans.” “Yeah, yeah, tea and crumpets.” Logan waves off Georges mocking with a grin as he looks at Charles. “It’s what people call you and Max, a nickname you could say for when you two are together.” She tells him before Logan can say anything. “Oh,” he frowns, considering. “That doesn’t sound so bad.” “It’s not.” She assures.

Before anyone can say anything else, someone joins their group, eyes focusing on her.

“Dr. Y/L/N, congratulations on your engagement.” She looks at the older man in surprise before quickly standing to shake his hand. “Toto, a pleasure to see you again. And please you don’t need to call me doctor.” Toto smiles, tilting his head forwards, conceding as she sits back down. “Doctor?” Daniel questions, eyes flitting between her and the Mercedes team principal, not sure of what to make of the interaction, though Max seems perfectly fine with it. She presses her lips together and she can feel Max move a bit closer as Toto’s eyes narrow at Max. “Yes.” She tells Daniel and the rest. “I managed to get both of my doctorates last year.” A few jaws drop and Lewis whistles. “And I thought you were just a teacher.” Toto’s looking at her now, with narrowed eyes and she sighs.

It would be just her luck that despite having just met the man once, that one time had resulted in a long conversation after he gave his guest lecture at Harvard.

“You told them you're a teacher.” “I told them I teach.” She corrects. “Let's not make a big deal out of it.” “I want to make a big deal out of it.” Max mumbles and she sends him a pleading look. But Max doesn’t give in, instead he turns to the rest of them. “She’s a professor at Harvard. She got both her doctorates at twenty-three and quickly was signed on as professor.” “So, what you’re saying,” Oscar starts, breaking the silence that has fallen over the group. “Is that she is way too smart for you?” Max laughs, eyes crinkling and body bending forward from the force of it. “Without a doubt, mate. Without a doubt.”

@cixrosie @darleneslane @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @fanboyluvr @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @benstormy @iloveyou3000morgan @copper-boom @boiohboii @topguncultleader

#max verstappen x reader #max verstappen imagine #f1 x reader #f1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #formula 1 imagine

[fushic0re]

𝐀 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃❜𝐒 𝐆𝐔𝐈𝐃𝐄 𝐓𝐎

𝐆𝐈𝐅𝐓 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐈𝐍𝐆

⊹ ࣪ ˖ 𝗦𝗔𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗢𝗝𝗢, 𝗦𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗨 𝗚𝗘𝗧𝗢, 𝗞𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗢 𝗡𝗔𝗡𝗔𝗠𝗜, 𝗧𝗢𝗝𝗜 𝗙𝗨𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗚𝗨𝗥𝗢, 𝗥𝗬𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡𝗧 𝗦𝗨𝗞𝗨𝗡𝗔, & 𝗔𝗢𝗜 𝗧𝗢𝗗𝗢.

𝐃𝐚𝐲 𝟑 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒂𝒏𝒆 𝑾𝒐𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑨𝒅𝒗𝒆𝒏𝒕 𝑪𝒂𝒍𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒂𝒓 ⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 ─ how they are as gift givers (how soon do they shop, do they shop late, etc.)

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 ─ 18+ ONLY; MINORS DNI. a bit of angst for toji because i can’t help myself. mentions of violence.

꒰ ͜͡➸ 𝐈𝐅 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐄𝐍𝐉𝐎𝐘𝐄𝐃 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐒 𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘, 𝐏𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐒𝐄 𝐆𝐈𝐕𝐄 𝐈𝐓 𝐀 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆! 𝐑𝐄𝐁𝐋𝐎𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐑𝐄 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒❜ 𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐃 & 𝐁𝐔𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑! ♡

𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈  

WE’RE STARTING OFF WITH THE BEST. 

You literally don’t need to make it overt what you want for Christmas–not even just Christmas if we’re being real. 

Takes gift giving very seriously. It’s more than just handing you things he has bought for you, it’s about celebrating you and how highly he regards you

…..Though there’s no price that can be put on how much he loves you. So, he’ll settle for spoiling you instead. 

Every first of the year, he starts game planning his next gifting season. 

He pays very close attention to you, memorizing your every habit down to your breathing pattern. Do not be surprised by the fact that his gifts are always immaculately packaged with wrapping paper that is the exact shade of that new color you’ve been into (yes, that one) paired with a complimentary bow and card to match. 

A professional spy when it comes to purchasing your gifts.

Oh, that top you looked at for literally only 5 seconds? He’s already putting it on hold in your size for him to come pick up later. 

If you didn’t know any better, you would have thought Kento never bought you anything because you never noticed a change in routine. Not a single one.

He also doesn’t put his gifts under the tree until two days before Christmas so that your nosey self doesn’t snoop through them. 

You literally wake up one morning to the tree flooded with gifts and him just nonchalantly sipping his coffee. 

His favorite gifts to plan are vacations for you guys. You are his motivating factor to rest and actually live the life he has made for himself. 

While his gifts are immaculate, it’s his cards that are the real tear jerkers. 

He writes you the most beautiful things. You stopped reading his cards when people were around because they made you sob. 

Truthfully, the real gift is the sweet messages your lover leaves you. 

𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 

Suguru is right up there with Kento in terms of gift giving. 

This man is observant and prepared, putting in lots of time, care, and effort into buying you gifts. 

He isn’t above sourcing your friends too. Every year, your friends get a text like, “If she mentions wanting something to you, text me ASAP please. Thank you!” 

At this point, he has a whole database of things you like and want.

Unlike Kento, Suguru won’t be as secretive. He knows you know when he’s out shopping for you and loves teasing you when you get curious. 

He’ll literally taunt you about all the things he’s getting you until you’re foaming at the mouth and going feral while trying to guess what he got you. 

Packages his gifts and immediately puts them under the tree when you’re asleep that way you wake up to a new gift every morning until Christmas.

“Oh! Someone got a gift from Santa. Sigh, I wonder, I wonder, I wonder.”

Gift giving is symbolic to him as well. Every gift of his is sentimental and has a connection to aspects of your relationship. 

Remember the cherry blossoms that had just bloomed at the park you guys were at when he first asked you out? He stuffed some in his pocket and had them framed. The dried Sakuras now hang on your office wall, a reminder of his love for you every time you work. 

𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎

Money is clearly nothing to this man…but that’s what makes Christmas shopping for you hard.

He literally buys you everything you want on the spot! What the hell else is he supposed to give you? 

Struggles a bit for this reason. 

He tries to splurge on your less throughout the year to build up Christmas, but it’s impossible. He absolutely cannot see something that makes him think of you and not get it.

For this reason, you tell him that it’s okay that he doesn’t get you anything on Christmas since every day with him is like Christmas….this falls on deaf ears.

Really he’s most concerned with getting you something meaningful since like I said, you have everything you could possibly need and want. 

Uses Megumi and Tsumiki for his emotional appeal factor.

For sure asks Suguru and Kento for help.

Ultimately, he decides to go for something simple and sentimental yet still very Satoru–a gorgeous ring with your birthstone with a sweet message engraved inside and a family photo of both of you with Megumi and Tsumiki. 

That ring is just a warm up for the real deal…but he’ll plan that a little bit more elaborately. 

𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

Women like perfume, flowers, and shit right? 

God bless this man. It’s been a while since he had to shop for a woman, he’s just trying his best.

He still needs help though. 

Since the passing of his late wife, he hasn’t opened up to anyone, let alone another woman. 

But here comes you in all of your glory waltzing into his life and defying all of his expectations, bulldozing his walls down like they were made of straw.

He wanted so badly to give you a token of his appreciation and love for you, but it’s so hard. 

It’s hard walking through the familiar flower shop he used to frequent to buy his late wife flowers. 

It’s hard thinking of her so much because he can’t help it when he does things like this. 

It’s hard subtly comparing you both as he shops for you, but she’s the only other woman he’s ever loved and his only guide to doing right by you. 

Toji’s not a rich man. He won’t ball out on you the way Satoru or even Kento does. 

He resorts to a lot of homemade gifts with the help of Megumi because lord knows he can’t craft for shit. 

He takes the traditional approach with flowers, breakfast in bed, homemade ornaments–little things that bring life and love into your shared home.

He saves all of his measly paychecks to buy you a locket. Inside is a picture of you, him, and Megumi.

On the other side of the locket are the words he’s too afraid to say out loud because they’ll break him…..

“Thank you for loving me.”

𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀

………God.

Do not tell this man you want anything because he will get it for you, but tenfold.

Oh, you enjoyed your trip to Kyoto? He’ll kill everyone there so you both are the sole inhabitants of the city. Kyoto is now yours. 

You love the ocean? Great, it’s yours and whoever roams it without permission will be considered trespassers and dealt with accordingly. 

Fuck a beach house, he’ll just give you the whole sea. 

He will literally mount the heads of your enemies on the mantel or hang their beating hearts on a gold chain that you can wear around your neck if it brings you joy.

In his head, there are no limits when it comes to his Queen of Curses. None whatsoever. 

He wants you to be instantly gratified. You are the one person he feels the need to prove something to. 

There really isn’t much to be said other than this. 

This man would burn the world if it meant keeping you warm, so don’t be surprised when he does. 

𝐀𝐎𝐈 𝐓𝐎𝐃𝐎

……God 2.0. 

Aoi is the kind of guy to buy you a whole present just because you sneezed and that calls for a pick-me-up present. 

He buys you apology gifts when you have to open a door by yourself because he isn’t around. 

Christmas is his time to SHINE. 

He approaches it like it’s an Olympic sport that he needs to win otherwise he’s unworthy of being your man. 

Shops early as hell so that the things you want don’t sell out. 

Not above throwing hands if he needs to snag the last of your items. 

Your wishlist is essentially a binding vow to him and if he doesn’t fulfill it, he’ll die. 

Horrible at hiding them because he gets so overwhelmed with excitement that he wants you to see what he got you right away. The gifts don't even get wrapped.

By the time Christmas actually arrives, his presents are the only ones under the tree because he forced you to open all of yours prior.

He tried to control himself, but at some point he literally starts waking you up in the middle of the night because he will not sleep out of pure adrenaline.

SO DRAMATIC. He practically gives you his presents like he’s acting out a Shakespearean play. 

He’ll kneel, bow, and grandly bestow each present upon you with two hands.  

Your reactions mean the world to him. 

Each time you get all giggly and happy opening gift after gift, his heart swells. 

He could deadass start crying tears of joy right then and there tbh. 

Those reactions are his gift. 

© all rights reserved to fushic0re ─ do not repost, translate, copy, or plagiarize my work in any form.

#satoru gojo x reader #satoru gojo #suguru geto x reader #suguru geto #kento nanami x reader #kento nanami #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro #ryomen sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #aoi todo x reader #aoi todo #jjk x reader #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk fanfic #jjk headcanons

[luveline]

Hotch request! Please sir, can I have a Hotch request? I'm trying to follow what you said about comfort but also Hotch being angry. So I get low blood sugars cause of my diabetes and I'd love if you wrote something about them being on a case and BAU!Reader is really busy trying to get stuff done, so she has a bad low blood sugar and sits down but one of the local officers thinks she's slacking off so she tries to keep going and Hotch comes in and defends her, making sure she has everything she needs and doesn't faint. Love you <3

ty for requesting!! hope this is okay <3 fem, 1.3k

“I understand.” You frown, phone pressed to your ear hard. “I totally understand, but it’s really important that I get to talk to her.” 

“She’s on heavy medication,” the nurse replies, unimpressed by your asking, “she wouldn’t be much use anyhow.” 

“I understand, but–”

“Listen, I’m sorry, but we have a lot to do here. I’m sorry we can’t help. Bye.” 

You groan in frustration, bringing your phone from your ear to see the Call Disconnected notification flash across your screen. How are you and the team ever supposed to get answers if nobody wants to help? Your head rushes. You kid yourself into believing it’s annoyance like a hot flash, you’ve been sweaty for ages, but then reality cuts through. What usually makes you sweaty and dizzy?

“Where’s my test kit?” you murmur to yourself. 

The door opens while you’re looking through your bag. 

“Agent,” Officer Debs greets, a stout, sturdy woman with sharp eyes, “any news from Georgetown Psychiatric?” 

You rummage frustratedly through your things. You should know better than to misplace your test kit. Doesn’t matter. You’ll just have to eat something quickly before you get any worse. “Uh, no, nothing they could help me with.” 

“Did you call them?” 

Your eyelids are getting heavier. You sit down on impulse, worried you’re gonna fall if you stay standing. “Yeah, I called them.” You’ve had diabetes for long enough to know what to do, but it’s always harder than it felt the last time when your blood sugar drops. It can be so sudden. 

Realising you might need help, you clear your throat, about to ask Officer Debs if she can get the glucose tablets from your bag. You should’ve grabbed them —your thoughts are starting to thicken like someone’s poured cornflour into your skull. 

“Is now the best time for a break?” Officer Debs asks. 

You focus very hard on bringing your attention into the present. “No, sorry,” you say, standing up. You open your phone and direct to the contacts page, clicking your favourite contact at the very top. 

Don’t know m where test kit is, you text clumsily. Hotch should still be in the precinct. Do u have it ? 

“I hope you’re texting someone about the case,” Officer Debs says sternly. 

You shove your phone into your pocket. “Um,” you say, getting confused now, and not wanting to be shouted at. You grab for the page of phone numbers you’d been making your way through, can’t get your hands to work. “I wasn’t. But I’m getting to it.” 

“We really don’t have time to waste.” 

“I know, but my blood sugar–”

She talks over you. “What’s the point in all our officers working day and night when you FBI agents can’t be bothered to put in the same effort?” Her voice rises. “It’s ridiculous!”

“It’s not ridiculous, we’re trying our best just like you are.”

“Clearly not!” 

“My blood sugar,” you say, more insistently. “Stop shouting at me.” 

The door opens quickly, creaking hard on its hinge. Hotch doesn’t slam it open, he never slams anything, but he doesn’t hesitate either. “I have it, you left it in the car after you tested this morning,” he says, your kit in his hand. He gives Officer Debs a surprised up and down. “Who’s shouting?” he asks, unimpressed. 

You wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. “Hotch, I need a tablet.” 

If he’s shocked at your lethargy, he doesn’t say. He ignores the officer from that point on. “Yes, I think so, too.” 

Hotch is more efficient than you were, grabbing your tube of glucose tablets and shaking one out into his hand. “Can you take it yourself?” 

“You want to chew it for me?” you ask. 

He tips it into your palm. “Very funny.” 

He opens the test kit on the desk and starts to extract the pieces. It’s quite complicated, especially for people unfamiliar with it, but you’re pretty sure Hotch learned how to use it the day he knew you had diabetes. He wipes his hands with an alcohol wipe and presses a test strip into the meter, careful not to touch the end, before wiping your finger with a new wipe, and readying the lancing stick. 

“Gonna stick you, okay?” he asks quietly.

“Mm,” you hum, the glucose tablet like chalk between your teeth. 

He sticks you. Some days it feels more painful than other days, but today it’s like a pinprick in a haze. He squeezes your finger, wipes the first drop of blood with a cotton ball, and dips the test strip into the second bead of blood, careful not to jab your cut. 

In the five seconds it takes for you to get a result on the meter, he kneels down, pressing another cotton ball to your finger to stem the flow of blood. “Good,” he murmurs to you. The meter flashes on the table. “Not so good. Fifty nine, huh? How’d that happen?” 

You shake your head slowly from one side to another. “I’ve no idea.” 

“Okay. Well, that tablet’s not gonna do it, honey. Do you have any gels?” 

“No,” you say apologetically. 

“That’s fine. I’ll get you a drink.” 

Officer Debs clears her throat. You may be foggy, but her awkwardness is palpable. “I’ll get it.”

“It has to be full sugar. Coke, if you can,” Hotch says. She nods in understanding and leaves in record time. Hotch turns back to you, his severity melting away. “She was shouting at you?”

“Tried to tell her about my blood sugar. She told me we’re not here to waste time.” You close your mouth, licking the glucose off of your teeth.

“How did you get so low?” he asks.

“Must have done something wrong this morning. Am I okay?” 

“We’ll see. I think you’ll be alright.” 

“Don’t usually get so dizzy.” 

“When was the last time you were below seventy?” 

“Don’t know,” you mumble. 

Hotch peels the cotton ball from your finger and packs your things away cleanly. “Let’s see how you feel in ten minutes. After your coke. Now… what did the Officer say to you?” 

He’s getting his facts straight. Again, you wouldn’t like to be on his bad side. You relay your conversation, Officer Debs hadn’t even been that bad, just uppity, stuck on her own assumptions rather than willing to listen when you’d needed a hand. Her lack of empathy could’ve really affected you. Low blood sugar is no joke. 

You tell him, savouring in the warmth of his hand on your leg, how uncaring he is to be kneeling in front of you on the precinct floor. He frowns at you long and hard. 

By the time Officer Debs returns, he’s on his feet again. “A word?” he asks her. 

You don’t hear all of what he’s saying through the door as you sip your coke. He doesn’t shout, but he defends you with a heavy gravity. Officer Debs speaks up and he cuts her down, something about understanding, and then a more clear telling off, “I don’t want to hear about Agent L/N’s performance from you again. She’s my agent, and if she needs a break, she’ll take one. It’s none of your concern.” 

“I understand.” 

You feel much peppier when he comes back in, though he appears less so. “You’re nasty,” you say, smiling, happy to be defended, and happier to know you’re not gonna pass out.

He crosses the room. Still frowning, he takes your face into his hands, and he leans down inch by inch, until he’s pressing a soft, soft kiss to your lips. You barely have time to close your eyes before he’s pulling away, thumb pressed into your soft cheek. “Nobody gets to shout at you. Especially over your blood sugar.” 

“It’s usually you telling me off for letting it get low,” you mumble. 

He stands up straight, leaving you wanting for another kiss you won’t get, hands stolen back from your cheeks. “You’re ageing me prematurely. Drink some more coke, please, sweetheart.” 

“What do I get in return?” 

He touches your face briefly, as much of a promise as you’re going to get. 

#aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner x you #aaron hotchner x y/n #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fic #aaron hotchner blurb #aaron hotchner drabble #aaron hotchner imagine #aaron hotchner fanfic #aaron hotchner fanfiction #hotch x reader #hotch #hotch x you #hotch blurb #hotch drabble

[searchingforserendipity25]

There are some things Davenport knows.

He counts them sometimes, the things he knows.

His name; how to tie his shoes with twelve different knots; how the Madame Director likes her coffee.

The rules of playing Fantasy Chess, and how to cheat at Fantasy Chess too.

How to tell when someone is afraid

How to make his bed, so tight and neat he can drop a coin on it and it jumps, newly polished and gleaming, right back into his hand

How to bandage up to twenty different kinds of injuries

How to make the best sea chowder on the Moon Base, and also on the planet

How to press a uniform so it lasts a week and several explosions with no crinkled corners

How to organise reports with proper colour-coding techniques

Not a great many words, when it comes to that - slippery as fishtails, words, hard to grasp in the mind and impossible to put into his mouth

How to laugh, and how to cry

How to be helpful, if not always in the most efficient way

Some very complicated geometry and arithmetic, though not the word for geometry, nor how to write down an equation to explain how he got his results.His name, the names of his colleagues, where he is, what time of the day it is, what happened yesterday.

His name, his name, even when he doesn't know anything else, his name is Davenport -

Most days, anyway

He cries, sometimes, over bowls of spicy soup and at cute dogs, when someone leaves a book half-open on the table - when he sees groups of people laughing, and when he's alone for a long time. He is rarely alone. The Madame Director finds him, every time. Brings him biscuits and jam, shares puzzles, gives him folders to file.

She tries to teach him new words from brightly coloured books, sometimes. Not often; Davenport hates to make her unhappy, and she looks very sad, whenever he fails. He hates failing - this he knows for certain. But regardless of what he does, the Director is sad a lot of the time. Busy, busy; but she goes very still, late at night, and writes lists in strange languages with shifting characters, and then burns them, with a look on her face like stone, like a closed fist. He sweeps the ashes, afterwards; there's nothing in them he can understand.

No one sees her in those hours. Only Davenport is there, with no one else around. Davenport does not count as company, really. Or at least the Madame Director trusts him enough to let him see her when it's very late and she is very tired, and there is too much work for a night's rest.

It's nice, being trusted. Davenport likes it, likes his little tasks, his schedule and his friends. He knows every corner of the Moon Base, except the ones he is not supposed to enter; he has a little map sewn into his coat pocket, for when he forgets he knows every corner of the Moon Base.

He loves slow music, and sea chowder, and to drink his tea (the Director makes it, sometimes; she knows just how he likes it) while standing behind the transparent windows and watch the planet down below, all green and blue and changeful, like a face with many moods.

He knows he likes these things.

It is only that, sometimes, Davenport is very full of a painful feeling, a feeling like being full of smoldering fire, a feeling like --

Anger has no face, no colour. Davenport does not know a lot of things; sometimes he grasps at the softened edges of his mind, looking for something sharp enough to cut himself with. Davenport is angry, sometimes, though he has no words for it. Sometimes, anger is the only real thing in Davenport's world, the first thing he ever knew.

And then he forgets about it.

There are few things Davenport knows. He can feel the shape of something very important, prodding at him, filling him up with a warm, unpleasant energy. It is there when he wakes, for a handful of moments - every day, in the dreaming place between wakefulness and sleep. Like a dream, it fades before he is done dressing for the day. He has no words for it. The truth is, most days Davenport only knows his name is Davenport, and the worst of it is Davenport forgets there might be anything missing.

#davenport #lucretia #taz #taz balance #fic #my fics #taz fics #taz balance fic

[toxicanonymity]

Stepdad!joel stepdad!joel stepdad!joel stepdad!joel stepdad!joel 🤤🤤🤤🤤🤤

Amazon 📦

2700, stepdad!Joel x f!reader. Stepdad Master List

New: BONUS SNAPCHATS, and one more (what if)

Ty for always ID-ing stepdad in the wild @gracieispunk including this pic ILYSM!!

SUMMARY: You give Joel the cold shoulder. He's sad and horny and finds a way to get your attention with a gift. He snapchats you a lot. A/N: Shout-out to @scratchietella (cum ask). WARNINGS: I8+, POV alternates twice, jacking off, stepcest, degradation, angst, reflection on cheating, a bit of whump and a hint of reader dacryphilia. Joel comes a lot (7x or so?), and I spelled it the short way for disambiguation.  NO use of Y/N. 

After you let Joel give you head, he thinks he’s back in your good graces despite cheating with your mom. But as soon as Joel leaves your room, you must be putting on your clothes. Because within less than a minute, you call Jacques on your way downstairs-–in earshot–to apologize on Joel's behalf for rushing him out.  

Joel follows you downstairs, but your Mom is on her way in.  You go out the front door, and when your Mom walks in from the garage, Joel is standing at the kitchen with his hair all messed up from running his hands through it in distress.  He doesn’t know if you’re going to Jacques’s, back to your apartment, or out, but he doesn’t like it. Joel knows he has no right to tell you anything, but that doesn’t stop him from calling you.  You don’t answer.  

Your Mom isn’t home for long.  She goes right back out, at which point Joel goes straight to his dresser to retrieve both pairs of your panties: The pair you gagged him with after he gave you a ride home, and the pair you stuffed in his pocket in the kitchen on Thanksgiving. The ones from the car are already ruined by his own cum, but the ones from Thanksgiving are all you. 

Joel lies on the bed and lubes up his cock, still hard from eating you out.  He puts on his glasses and looks at the screenshots he took of you before he knew Snapchat was telling on him. He whimpers as he strokes himself.

After a minute of looking at your scandalous photos, he feels pathetic for clinging to such a tiny morsel of you when he needs it all. He tosses his phone aside, closes his eyes, and smothers his face with your panties as he strokes himself.  He takes in deep breaths and he grunts and moans into them, and his hips involuntarily flex like his fist might as well be you. 

For the thousandth time, he imagines putting an end to his misery by just fucking your shit up.  Busting in your door, grabbing you by the throat slamming you against the wall.  Shoving his tongue down your throat and his hand between your legs. Tearing your clothes off as you whimper his name. Then taking you to bed, only so he can put you on your back and spread you wide open.

He'd memorize the folds of your dripping cunt as it twitches and begs for his tongue. Flip you over and shove himself in without warning, making you mewl as his girth splits you in two. Pounding you. Spanking you. Yeahh, just railing into your needy whore cunt as you whimper under him.  He sees your face screwing up as he cums inside you with a harsh grunt, finally giving you what you wanted all this time, a cunt full of his load.  

Cut to his own fist full of it on his bed. As he lies there breathing, the shame sets in. Not only the stepcest shame, but also the knowledge that he'd never have the balls to do any of that. It’s barely believable enough to get off to.  And then the guilt sets in – the guilt of what he did, how he fucked things up with you.  He feels guiltier about this than he felt for cheating on your Mom. He feels like he cheated on you. 

He puts away the evidence and washes his hands. Then he stares at your text convo. He has to figure out how to make things right. 

You don't respond to a single text or snap for the next week or so, and you don’t come back to the house either. Joel feels even more desperate. He’d do anything, if he only knew what might help.  He needs something to get your attention. He doesn’t sleep with your Mom, and your Mom doesn’t care. She doesn’t even bring it up. He’s pretty sure she’s having an affair anyway. Brazenly.  For her to confront Joel about his lack of interest would be to risk Joel confronting her about the affair. Joel isn't sure if it’s physical or just emotional, but it doesn’t matter much. He’s over it. 

Joel thinks about you at night and wonders if you think about him, too. He envisions what you might look like, thinking of him.  He imagines you with your spine arched, toy between your legs, closing your eyes, just soaking your sheets as you sigh his name. One night, he’s picturing this, really choking his cock.  He groans then sighs as he cums into his fist.  And then, when he’s recovering from his climax, that’s when it hits him.  How to get your attention. 

—---------

You’re lying on the couch watching TV.  You’re distracted.  Joel’s outreach has been ambiguous so far.  He hasn’t said anything about your mom. He hasn’t begged for pictures, much less for another chance. He’s only begged for forgiveness, over text.  You haven’t opened his snapchats because you don't want to be reminded about what he did.  You don’t want a serious talk or a lecture or god forbid details.  You don’t even want a sincere apology, unless it’s in the interest of fucking you.  

You get a notification that you have a package at the leasing office and sigh in exasperation that you have to make the trip there when it's probably not even yours. You aren't expecting anything, but sure enough, it has your name on it. 

It’s a vibrator.  Your heart races when you read the gift message. “Thinking of you. A lot. I’m sorry. J.” Unwanted butterflies swarm in your chest and you try to bat them away. He even included an extra pack of batteries.  How. . . thoughtful. Smart, too, because if it were rechargeable, you’d never plug it in.  It would feel like an admission of forgiveness. But since it’s battery-operated, you can just pull the battery tab as soon as you get horny. And of course you do. You lay on the sofa where you and Joel hooked up before and you take the toy for a spin. His ploy is working, you’re thinking of him, and you’re too horny to care.

You finally open his snapchats. They're a mix of horny and pathetic videos. They start off horny, just showing you a bulge in his pants or he's jacking off with your panties.  

Video: Then something non-sexual. A closeup where he’s just looking at you with messy hair, puppy dog eyes, and dark circles. “Talk to me. Yell at me, I don’t care. I'll take anything.” 

Video: Then horny. Palming himself over his joggers.  Whining your name in a whisper.  “Please.” His desperation turns you on. 

Video: A sad one the same night. He's sweating, looking like a little more of a mess, forehead glistening, catching his breath. "Don't throw this away." He breathes for a few more seconds.

Video: Another sad one another day where he doesn’t really say anything but his face says it all.  He looks awful, as if he’s not sleeping. Red eyelids, might have been crying.  He starts to say something, “I—” he takes a deep breath. Then he shakes his head, looks up and it cuts off. 

Video: A horny one that must have been the same night. He looks the same, but his reddened eyes look hungry. His lips are parted and he's taking in a shaky breath with his arm moving slowly off screen. "I just miss you." He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. He turns the camera down where his clothed erection sticking straight up in his joggers, just jutting into the air. His hand pushes it down and he slowly grabs it.

You leave his snaps on "seen," not even beginning to reply. Then a few minutes later he sends a new one.  A minute after that, another one.  You leave those unseen for the time being.

—------------

Joel sees you open the old snaps. That's progress, he thinks, and boldly assumes you open them when you’re horny. When he starts to second guess that assumption, he gets self conscious and thinks it might be for the better that you don’t open the last two snaps. They might have been too much. . .

Video: He’s sitting in his office chair in front of a full length mirror. He’s manspreading and his joggers are hugging him in a way that emphasizes his bulge.  His big, veiny hand is slowly rubbing his inner thigh, getting closer and closer to where he desperately wants your touch. He says, “Ya know,” (deep breath) “I should be doin’ that for you.” Then he palms his arousal and says, “Ahh, fuck it.”  

Video: A few minutes later, he’s slouched down in the chair.  His T-shirt is pulled up well over his  belly button and his hand around his cock. After just a few wet strokes, he sighs loudly as he cums all over his abdomen.  It’s a lot of cum, like six or seven ropes. Then his stomach rises and falls with heavy breaths for a few seconds before he ends the video. 

He’s grateful for the glimmer of hope but still beating himself up.  He doesn’t know what to do. He’s not even sure what you want. At times, it feels like a losing battle. He’s not even sure what you feel.  At some point he thought he knew, on some level. He thought you both knew, the moment you kissed, it felt like there was something electric neither of you could articulate but both of you knew.

It felt more than skin deep, but he couldn’t say where it went within either of you.  He still can’t say. It’s not like you were in love. Certainly not batting eyelashes at each other or making future plans. Half the time you were bickering.  But there was something there.  Even if it was only physical, it was deep in your bones and something made it electric. 

The further it gets from that moment, the more he wonders what you ever wanted. Is he your play thing? Do you get off on torturing him? Did you genuinely enjoy chatting with him?  Do you get off on sneaking around or would you be into him if you knew each other a different way? 

He pushes those thoughts away and keeps coming back to the physical spark between you. The hunger in your eyes.  Your persistence.  He wants both of you to take a leap of faith–not into a relationship–but a leap backward to the beginning.  This all burned down and needs to be rebuilt from the ground up.  If he lets it cool and builds it right, maybe it can become something better.  Abstaining from other people feels like a good start. He can’t think about whether you’re seeing anyone else or it keeps him up at night. 

—-----

The next day, you’re horny again.  You get comfortable and turn on your new toy. You tell yourself opening his snaps doesn’t mean anything.  You don’t have to respond.   It won’t have any effect on you.  But when you watch those two in his office, and oh, God. It takes you no time flat to cum, and cum hard.  You don’t say anything back to him. He texts you, “did you like that?” and you don’t respond.  He continues, “if not i’ll stop, sorry. Lmk.” You don’t let him know anything at all. You stay radio silent. 

Over the next couple of weeks, he keeps snapchatting you.  Even if you don’t open it that night, he knows you might go on a spree and open several in a row, probably when you’re using his gift. 

Video: It’s a computer screen with your insta pulled up.  He’s at the desk in his bedroom, the one where you found him jacking off to your pictures a few of months ago. He points the camera down at his lap and he’s wearing gray boxer briefs you didn’t know he had.  You see the very clear outline of his hard cock atop his thigh, straining to burst out of them.  “See what ya do to me.” He runs his hand down it with a low sigh.

Video: A few minutes later, selfie mode, breathing heavily.  Hand wrapped around his shiny cock, stiff and swollen.  He fists himself at a beat that’s becoming as irregular as his ragged breaths. He grunts as he thrusts into his hand.  “Oh, fuck—oh—-ohhh fuck, I–nngg–” He devolves into a groan as he erupts in his hand. It shoots back toward the camera. It takes a good thirty seconds of him moaning and sighing and catching his breath before he’s finally done emptying his balls. 

Video: He’s on his bed, rear camera facing his lap.  cock and his hand gliding wetly up and down it.   “I can’t believe. . .” (heavy breathing) “-oh, fuck—I–I can’t --I can't believe,” (moan) “I ever turned you down.” (long, drawn out orgasmic groan). 

Photo: Close-up of his lap with a boner.  His hand resting at his groin. His hand has no business being that hot.  Caption: How’s silicone joel treating you.”  You roll your eyes and begrudgingly smile just a little as you use the silicone joel and quickly tap for the next snap. 

Video: He’s in the office again, standing in front of the full length mirror. He’s in boxer briefs and his thighs swell out from them. No shirt.  He pans so you can see him head to toe, shirtless. Then he relaxes back in the chair, manspreading. The snap ends and it cuts to the next one.

Video: Now he’s breathing fast, stroking his raging erection feverishly in the next one “Ohh-nng-Oh–God–Fu–” (moan) “Fffuuuck” (loud, low sigh).  Stringy white ropes rocket onto his abdomen as he shudders loudly and strokes himself slower. You rewatch this one multiple times and count seven real ropes before it’s just gurgle. Seven.

You think about getting your ipad out and taking a video of this one for later use, but you accidentally tap for next. By now, he's completely unashamed.

Video: He’s in his car. You can only see his lap, and the ample bulge in his joggers. “Had to pull over.” He scoots the seat back, rubs himself slowly, breathing heavily. “Just thinkin’ about” (low sigh) “the way you came all over my mouth” He pulls his waistband down, spits on his cock, then sighs loudly. That snap ends, and in the next one--

Video: He's just cumming–really hard. It’s his fist around his cock.  “Oh, fuck,” (a gasp, then a soft, ragged groan)  “Fu–” he cuts himself off with a long sigh as he cums into a t-shirt.  You can’t see the cum but know it’s a lot.  You see his cock twitch and his hips lift as he sighs again. 

Photo: His big, masculine hand is holding a peach. Caption: Every fkn thing reminds me of you. 

All this time, you’re still not responding. Not so much as a thumbs up or sweating emoji. But you keep watching them, day after day, until  one day, he doesn’t send any.  You use the toy and just think about him, envisioning his videos, and replaying your encounters. You don’t just think about him jacking off, you think about him crying, too, and that turns you on just as much. You picture him crying and jacking off and you cum instantly. Then you feel kinda bad.

In your post-nut clarity, that’s when you realize you’re pretty much ready to move on from it.  Because you start to worry. Maybe he’s had enough of the games. Maybe he’s given up. Maybe you shouldn’t have punished him like this. It was fucked up, so fucked up, but the memory will fade. You detached enough in the moment that it's not that vivid to begin with.

Joel is married. He’s always been married. That's why he was always saying no. They kissed in front of you days before. Instead of insisting on a conversation, within sixty seconds you were putting your panties in his pocket. Then you made a pass at him, and he got you off on the kitchen counter.  Then you kissed.

That kiss. It was so loaded. Packed full of tension and potential. A glimpse of what could be had. There's no doubt in your mind the sex would be explosive.

If Joel hasn’t given up, maybe this interlude got you a little closer to what you want, somehow.  There's only one way to find out.

—-----

BONUS SNAPCHATS

the silicone Joel

STEPDAD MASTER LIST - Fandango has the most advanced smut

—-----

THANK YOU for reading and engaging. Your reblogs and comments mean so much to me, and I love when I start to see new “regulars.” It’s so exciting really. Love you guys 💙💙💙

Special shoutout to stepdad’s lawyer @milla-frenchy for expert counsel!

A/N: Based on a) people wanting her to hold out on him longer (which is what this was) and b) what i want to do on vacation, I think the vacation is going to have to be after Christmas. 

FAQ: I’m not planning on pursuing the jacques/cheatbacks storyline rn, you can HC that however you want as for what she did that night (if anything).  Don’t really wanna address the mom situation more, and probably won’t answer plot Qs. That way maybe you'll get the next story sooner --- I’m kinda trying to make this easier to write so it won’t take so much deliberation and weighing opposing inputs lol.

TBH it was supposed to just be sexy, smutty, scandalous, “we shouldn’t be doing this” PWP and it kinda got away from me.  But I at least wanted to give a little insight into Joel’s POV with this  one. 

Now back to the agenda: [cock, baby!.gif ].

-------

You can follow @toxicfics and turn on notifications (click on the person at the top) for just the most major posts. You have to have push notifications turned on for tumblr on your phone.

All Joel:@ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea@evyiione@xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxious@chernayawidow@ambassadortotrilliusprime@not-a-unique-snowflake-blog@jasminespringtime @romanarose@fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore@blackvelveteen1339 @manazo @wolvesandvampires@taeslarityy@str84pedro@lokanda @kyloispunk @filthfairy@fieryglutenfreechickennoodles @harriedandharassed @moonlightdivine@worhols@fan-fiction-floozy@cutesyscreenname  @weddingfairy @pedropascal-whore @spideysimpossiblegirl@feministfanboi@gracieispunk@prettypartyfavor@am-3-thyst@babeincolor@milla-frenchy@switchbladedreamz@within-the-depths@am-3-thyst@may-machin@pedromania91 @sloanexx@paleidiot

#joel miller x reader #joel miller x female reader #stepdad!joel miller #dark!joel miller #joel miller smut #pedro pascal characters #joel miller fic #stepdad!joel☠️ #stepdad!joel #cw stepcest #joel jacks off #ppcu jacks off #toxicanonymity ☠️

[hopelesslyromanticshark]

would you consider writing headcanons for percy and a mortal reader? like maybe someone he can’t help but fall for even though he’s afraid of putting them in danger given the differences in their worlds? i love your writing by the way!

⋆⭒˚.⋆ percy jackson x mortal! reader hcs

content: percy jackson x mortal! reader hcs warning: language, mentions of death and blood and all that gross stuff author's note: i thought this one was gonna be a pain in my but to write but it was actually so cutesy???? also the last line is brutal i know but i couldn't help myself. so good, love love love. hope you guys like it too!!

you guys met in school, obvi

percy was struggling to read the board and you could tell, silently sliding your notes over to him and pretending not to, just to save him the embarrassment

"thank you for...ya know," percy muttered once the teacher turned her back.

"of course. my eyes bug out sometimes too. we gotta look out for each other," the girl mused back, a soft smile on her face as she playfully winked at him.

his stomach instantly became an olympic athlete, doing flips and twists like nobody’s business

he knew it wouldn't work out though

she was, probably, just another mortal and he wasn't willing to put her life in danger

even if she was super cute

and sweet

and caring

did i mention cute? okay, just checking.

but, he indulged a little bit, allowing side conversations during class and sharing of lunches

but no more, he promised himself

and then he kissed her

yeah, that promise didn't last long

it was fine and he lied...a lot.

"oh, cute necklace! is that from like a summer camp or something?"

"something like that, yeah."

"you've got so many scars, percy. you must be like super clumsy."

"sooooo clumsy. ha..."

"you mind if i borrow this pen real quick? i just need to-"

"NO NOT THAT PEN- sorry, sorry, here’s another one. that ones, er, special."

he didn't want to lie, really, but he also didn't want to hurt her.

to know is to put her in danger

and he couldn't have that

she’d met his mom, obviously she was the most important thing in his life

not just anybody meets mrs. sally jackson

and then, while riding the subway on the way to the aquarium for a date, it happened.

becuase of course it did.

percy was holding onto the pole, his free hand firmly resting on her waist and holding her close and away from the creeps of the new york undergrounds

"percy...why's that guy staring at you like that?" the girl whispered up to him.

percy's eyes instantly darting in the direction she nodded to, ready to scare off anyone who dared to look at his girlfriend in the wrong way

but then he faltered, his shoulder's sinking and his brain working double time to figure out how to get her out of here safety and deal with the monster.

"peresus jackson. i think this is your stop," the man hissed, standing up from his seat and shoving aside new yorkers as he approached.

percy pushed y/n behind him, taking a protective stand as he dug riptide out of his pocket

"nope. we're going all the way madison today. nice try," percy replied, uncapping riptide.

"percy?! is that a sword?" y/n asked in her panic, causing percy to turn to her with a furrowed brow.

"you can see this?" he holds riptide up for emphasis

"yes! obviously!"

"hold that thought," he said before swinging at the monster.

all the other new yorkers quickly scrambled to one side of the train, whipping their phones out and recording.

y/n slapped these phones down with a glare, shaking her head at them. 

she wasn’t entirely sure what was going on but she wasn’t just gonna let them record percy with a sword. That would surely land him in juvie.

percy, once done with the monster, quickly grabbed hold of y/n wrist and pulled her out of the subway just as the doors slammed shut behind them.

he dragged her with him, running all the way until he found a secluded ally to duck into, his eyes rapidly looking around for more danger.

"percy, what's going on?! where did you get a sword?! why do you even carry that on you and why did that man want to kill you and-"

"are you okay?" percy whispered through her worried rant and she stopped, nodding up at him.

"y-yeah, i'm okay. are you?"

"i've fought worse."

"percy...what do you mean? be honest with me...please," she all but begged and percy hung his head, hoping to avoid this moment for his whole life.

"it's gonna sound crazy."

"tell me anyway."

so he did.

he told her everything, correcting every lie he told her, every half-truth.

she listened, nodding along and asking the occasional question, but mainly listening

"so, yeah, that's everything."

"what i'm hearing is my boyfriend is a total badass."

"that's what you got out of that?!?! not the whole 'half-god' thing?!?!?"

"i kinda already figured that. i mean, look at you-"

"shut up."

a few weeks later, while they were hanging out in percy's room and sally was making cookies for them, is when the reality of it all hit y/n.

"percy?" she whispered, causing the boy to pull his eyes from the movie that was on and look down at her.

"yeah?"

"am i...am i gonna be in, like, danger? with you?"

"honestly? yes. every second you spend with me is probably another year you lose from your life."

there was pause, percy swallowing thickly before opening his mouth to give her permission to leave, he'd understand. hades, he'd do the same.

"okay," she replied with a shrug, cuddling closer.

"you sure?" he pushed, thought he really didn't want her to change her mind.

"thirty seconds spent with you is worth thirty years without you to me. easily."

#postcards from covey ౨ৎ #all my love ౨ৎ #percy jackson #pjo #percy jackon and the olympians #pjo fandom #percy jackson x reader

[woso-dreamzzz]

Struggle

Hardersson x Child!Reader

Part of The Big Adventures Universe

Summary: You try to get dressed by yourself

There's a lot of change now that you live in England. There's no more Wolfsburg, no more German and no more Morsa through the phone. Now it's Not-Wolfsburg and English and Morsa in person.

It's a big change but you're being very brave about it all and trying to be a big girl.

Momma has been a little stressed about settling in at Not-Wolfsburg and with getting everything moved into the house. Some of the things that were meant to be shipped over have been delayed so she's a little antsy about it.

You try to be helpful like keeping your toys tidy and not complaining too much when Morsa wants to take pictures of you in her Not-Wolfsburg jersey but things are very different.

Your English is not quite as good as your other languages so Momma and Morsa exclusively speak it to you at home unless you're very tired and tearful. You're trying very hard with your English though and are learning new things every day.

You think that if you try very hard it might make Momma more relaxed so you're desperately trying to find other ways to make her relaxed too. One of the girls from training told you that big girls get dressed by themselves.

You've never done it before but Morsa calls you her big girl all the time so you must be one. Morsa always lays your clothes out the night before you wear them and tonight you stand at her side as she chooses.

"Um..." You say because you still have to speak English and you're trying to think of your words. "That!" You point at one of your plain t-shirts nestled between a Wolfsburg shirt and a Not-Wolfsburg shirt.

Momma tells you all the time now that you can't wear a Wolfsburg jersey to Not-Wolfsburg training because it's a little bit rude but you don't want to wear a Not-Wolfsburg jersey either. You kind of wish you had a red jersey because teams with red on their jerseys are always really good.

Regardless, you point at the plain t-shirt because it's the happy middle before also choosing the pair of shorts that have stars on them.

"Good choice," Morsa says before she lays them out on the little rocking chair you have in the corner for bedtime cuddles," Alright, into bed."

You hurry to get under the covers, making sure to give girl-swan and girl-moose kisses. Momma comes in as you do so. She tucks your blankets up to your chin before placing feather-light kisses to your face.

"I love you."

"Love you," You echo and Morsa takes her place.

She gives you kisses too. "I love you."

"Love you."

Momma turns on your nightlight and Momma leaves your door open a crack.

You make sure to go to sleep very quickly so the morning can come sooner and you can impress Momma and Morsa by getting dressed all by yourself.

It's still quite dark when you wake up but your nightlight is still on so you can still see and you make your way over to where your clothes are waiting.

You manage to slip your shorts on fairly easily because you only need to put your feet in the holes and pull them up like you do with your pull-ups. It's a little weird though because usually your pockets are at the back rather than the front but you've managed to do your shorts all by yourself so you don't really think a lot about how the pockets have changed positions.

It's the t-shirt that gives you trouble. First, you can't find the neckhole, trying to force your head through the arm holes twice. Next, you somehow manage to get your elbow through one of the holes but, when you realise that your actual hand hasn't gone through, you find out that you can't get your elbow back out.

You don't like this feeling and whine loudly as you try to fight it but it's just no use. You struggle uselessly against it until you're quite firmly stuck and that makes you fall onto your butt and cry.

"Okay, okay," Momma's comforting voice shushes you softly as her hands gently pushes at your elbow from the other side until it pops out and falls limp at your side.

The t-shirt is pulled off of your head and you surge into Momma's arms. She cradles you instantly, holding you close into her warm safety as you wet her pyjama top with your tears.

You blubber half-words into her neck as her gentle hand rubs your back.

"What was that about, huh, Princesse?" Momma asks, not forcing you out of your hiding spot.

"What was what about?" Morsa pops her head into the room, taking in the way that your pyjamas lie on the floor with your t-shirt and the way that you're being held against Momma. Her eyes drift down to your shorts where she bursts out laughter. "Your shorts are on backwards."

Immediately, you burst into tears.

"Magda!" Momma hisses and you know she's serious because she's using Morsa's adult name.

Morsa looks a little apologetic when she sees your state and moves to touch you but you shy away. She frowns and extends her hand for you but you still refuse to take it.

"What happened? Huh?" Momma asks you softly.

"Bein' big girl," You cry.

"Oh, yeah?

You nod pathetically.

"And that's why you tried to get dressed all by yourself?"

You nod even more pathetically than before. You tried really hard to be a big girl but, just like your English, you're not very good at it yet. You're just a little girl and little girls don't get to get dressed by themselves.

You're a bit sullen as Momma and Morsa work together to get you dressed, head hung low as Momma swaps your shorts around the right way and Morsa gets your head through the right hole of your t-shirt.

You're a little girl today.

You wish you were a big girl.

#woso x reader #hardersson x reader #pernille harder x reader #pernille harder #magdalena eriksson x reader #magdalena eriksson #woso community #woso fanfics #woso imagine #woso #The Big Adventures Universe

[atlasnessie]

DAYCARE PICK UP !! let’s go home, lovely

osamu & chuuya as daddies picking up their poor adorable baby girl up from daycare !! ( same names as the other fic guys mb lawll )

early fall always made dazai’s heart turn in a different way. the ways the leaves on the trees change colors and die down for the new generation, it made his heart feel melancholic in the windy weather. however, the waves of unknown emotions had to subside. today, osamu dazai has taken on the task of picking up his daughter from daycare. you have entrusted him to be on time, no later than five for that was when all the other children would be leaving with their own parents and guardians and, oh dear, it would be terrible to leave your poor daughter all alone with no one to play with, wouldn’t it ?

as osamu stepped into the small daycare, he was relieved to see his daughter with a few other kids, playing with a small kitchen set and siring up a pot filled with fake carrots and lettuce leaves. he was always worried she would be outcasted like him. as one of the workers called akane over, she dropped all her things and smiled, rushing over to her father. the daycare workers grabbed for akanes bags and belongings, handing them over to osamu with a smile as the both of them left.

the walk to the house was filled with small chatter and dazai carrying akane by the shoulders, his big hands holding his daughters legs in a protective manner as akane messed with his chocolate hair.

“how was today, dear ?”

“was fun. we did finger painting !! look; it’s flowers, the sun, clouds, and this is mommy, and this is you !” as akane held a paper in front of dazai’s face, he stopped walking and stepped to the side of the sidewalk. despite the paper being far too close to his face, he could make out small blobs and streaks of hair that rested on (what seemed like) your head in the drawing. dazai wore a dolly smile on the drawing, the crescent shaky and uneven, but it gave himself flavor.

“oh, this is wonderful !! let’s go home and show mommy, yeah ? and then we can put it on the fridge together, how about it ?”

chuuya told you there was no need for a daycare. he could just hire a nanny to look for chiyo for the day while the two of you were away or you could stay home with her, he makes more than enough money for the three of you. but you insisted, saying it would be good for your daughter to play with other kids rather than a nanny. and to chuuya, your words are almost law to him, he’ll follow it if it makes you happy.

which now leads to where chuuya is now. his chauffeur stops in front of the daycare as chuuya thanks him, telling him that he could park somewhere before opening the door and walking in. with his hands in his pockets, chuuya turned his head from wall to wall. papers filled with drawings filled the halls, along with small decorations such as paper chains made by the children and cut outs by the teachers and workers. it wasn’t a fancy place as chuuya wanted, it was rather normal, in fact. a plain exterior complemented with nicely decorated hallways.

as nakahara walked further in the daycare, he stopped at the familiar door and knocked gently with a gloved hand. the door was cut in two, the top half open while the bottom half was lock closed. chuuya liked this door, he could see his daughter without the anticipation of wondering where chiyo was and what she was doing. a worker walked over and smiled neatly at chuuya before calling for chiyo. the girl, dressed neatly and hair done to perfection, ran over to the door as chuuya waved. grabbing her things, chiyo waved goodbye to her friends before holding her fathers big hands in hers.

“‘ya had fun, pretty ?”

“mhm ! we painted and drew lots. we also made tomato-lettuce-apple-leaf soup outside in the playground !” chiyo hopped around as she stepped over the tile lines, jumping slightly higher with the help of chuuyas hands and arms lifting her up gently.

“oh yeah ? that sounds like real fun. hey, mommy’s making food back at home, hope you’re not too full from your … err — soup from earlier.”

#bungo stray dogs #bsd #bungo stray dogs x reader #bsd x reader #bungo stray dogs dazai #bsd dazai #osamu dazai #dazai x reader #dazai x you #bsd fluff #bungo stray dogs chuuya #bsd chuuya #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x reader #chuuya x you #atlas writes !

[starkwlkr]

a little too much | charles leclerc

a very happy dilf day to jenson button and sebastian vettel!

All week Ruby had been wiggling her loose tooth trying to get it to fall off. Ever since she was told that the tooth fairy would bring her money in exchange for her tooth, she was desperate for it to fall off.

“Ruby, don’t do that. It will fall off on its own, you just have to be patient.” Y/n said to the little girl after dinner. As Charles and Y/n cleaned up the dinner table, Ruby ran to the bathroom and checked her tooth in the mirror.

“Arthur should be the one to give her the money since he told her about the tooth fairy.” Charles joked. He already had money put aside for when Ruby finally lost her tooth and it was his job to slip in a couple of euros under the girl’s pillow.

“You know she told me she’s expecting enough to get that barbie dream house but she wants the one with the pool so her barbie’s can swim in it.” Y/n explained. Apart from talking all week about her tooth, Ruby also had her eyes set on the Barbie dream house she saw weeks ago in the store.

“She already has two of those. My mother got her one and I bought her the other one.”

“She has two because her papa couldn’t resist buying her anything she wants. What was it you said? Whatever Ruby wants, Ruby gets? I love you for making our daughter happy, but she doesn’t need a million toys.” Y/n kissed her husband’s cheek.

“She’s only little for a while, amour, I want to enjoy it while I can.”

A week later, Charles and Y/n were invited to a party by Joris. And of course Charles took advantage of the alcohol. Pascale had offered to look after Ruby so the couple could have a day off from parenting. Ruby loved being with her grand-mère. She even showed Pascale her loose tooth and when she tried to wiggle it with her tounge, she felt the tooth move more than it did before. Seconds later, Ruby spit out her tooth into her hand and proudly showed it to Pascale.

“The tooth fairy is coming!” She ran around the house holding her tooth.

“She is! How much do you think the tooth fairy is going to bring you?” Pascale asked the excited girl.

“A lot! I’m going to buy Barbie’s dream house that comes with the pool and all my Barbie’s are going to live in it.” Ruby explained.

By the time Y/n and Charles arrived home, Ruby was fast asleep with her tooth under her pillow. Pascale had informed them of it when they arrived. She also saw how Charles was being held up by Y/n since he had a little too much to drink.

“Thank you for taking care of my Ruby, maman.” Charles said as Y/n helped him up the stairs.

“Take care of yourself, Charles. I’ll see you two soon.” Pascale smiled and left the Leclerc house.

“I’m taping your hands so you don’t ever have another drink ever again.” Y/n teased.

“I will find a way to drink.”

When the couple finally made it to their room, Charles threw himself on his bed and let out a sigh. He missed his bed all day.

“I’m going to take a quick shower. Go to sleep, I mean it.” Y/n kissed Charles and walked to the bathroom.

While his wife was busy, Charles remembered about Ruby’s tooth. He groaned as he moved to his side to grab his wallet from his back pocket. Then he forced himself out of the bed and stumbled to Ruby’s room, trying to be quiet.

Ruby’s room wasn’t completely dark. She had rainbow night light illuminating her room. He gently lifted Ruby’s pillow and grabbed the small tooth then placed the money where the tooth was. He then managed to make it back to his room without Ruby or Y/n noticing.

When morning came, the first thing Ruby did was check under her pillow and what she found made her extremely happy. In school, her teacher had taught her about money and it’s value so when she counted it, she was 100% sure it was enough to buy her Barbie dream house.

In the kitchen, all the Leclerc’s had reunited for breakfast. Charles was still in pain, but with some painkillers and breakfast, he was soon recovering. Arthur had been teasing him all morning.

“So, how much did you give Ruby for her tooth?” Arthur asked.

“Four or five euros. She’s probably going to spend it on candy.” Charles replied, grabbing his orange juice and drinking from it.

“Papa! Maman! The tooth fairy gave me one hundred euros!” Ruby ran to the kitchen where she found her entire family eating breakfast. That made Charles choke on his drink and spill most of it on himself.

“Ruby, let me see,” Ruby handed her mother the money she was given. After double checking, it was clear that Ruby definitely had one hundred euros. “Wow, the tooth fairy did give you a lot of money.” Y/n glanced at Charles, who frantically searching for his wallet.

“Can we go buy Barbie’s dream house? My Barbies told me they want the one with the pool.” Ruby asked.

“Barbies don’t talk.” Arthur teased. He and Ruby always joked around with each other.

“Not to you.” Replied Ruby. “Ask uncle Enzo. Tour guide Barbie told him Italy is the best place to ask auntie Charlotte to marry him.”

Lorenzo nodded, playing along with the girl. “It’s true. Tour guide Barbie doesn’t lie.”

“Is there a teacher Barbie so she can teach your papa how to count?” Y/n asked.

Ruby stayed silent and thought about her collection of Barbies. Then she gasped. “There is.”

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