#i know it barely even looks like the outfit from the thing without color but sshhhhhhh

[goldengleams]

🫧 Can you write #15 with Quinn Hughes? Thank you!! :)

the proposal - q. hughes

A/N: Once again, college has been so busy that I haven’t had any time to post 😭 Hope you enjoy this, it’s more of a real imagine than a blurb to make up for the long wait! Love you guys :))

You woke up to the summer breeze rustling through your curtains. Your afternoon nap had replenished your energy from your morning out on the boat with Quinn. You had arrived at Quinn and Jack’s lake house just a few days earlier, and Jack had arrived last night. Now, you were waiting on Luke to get in this evening to round out your little group.

You stretched out to find the bed empty, but your hand brushed a piece of paper on Quinn’s side of the bed. To Y/N, it said. You blearily picked it up and read the message inside.

Pick you up for dinner at 6. Dress fancy :)

Love,

Quinn

You giggled at the note, at how adorable it was. You and Quinn were literally staying at the same house but his little plan made you smile. This summer would mark the fourth year that you and Quinn had been together and the first since you two had moved in together. You couldn’t imagine doing life without him anymore.

You picked out a light green slip dress from your closet, one of Quinn’s favorites on you. With the two hours you had left, you put on some makeup and did your hair. You loved that Quinn always made spending time with you a priority in your relationship, even when you had gone on just about every date imaginable.

You walked downstairs at 5:45, not sure what to expect. Jack was sitting at the kitchen counter, scrolling on his phone. He looked up immediately when he heard your heels clicking on the floor, grinning at you like a five year old with a secret.

“Why are you smiling at me like that, Jack?” You chuckled, a little suspicious.

“No reason!” Jack said quickly. “But Quinn will be here soon, he just texted me.”

You nodded and pulled out your phone to check. Quinn had also sent you a message that you had missed.

From: quinn❤️

On my way, see you in a few

You said goodbye to Jack and went to wait outside for Quinn. Before you left for Michigan, you had gotten your nails done and made sure to pack some of your favorite outfits just in case a special night like tonight happened. You raised your left hand and your various rings shone in the light, but your ring finger still remained bare. You let out a sigh, trying not to get your hopes up in case tonight wasn’t the night. After four years together, you knew Quinn was the one, you just had to wait for the big moment now.

Quinn pulling up drew you from your thoughts a few moments later. He honked the horn of the beautiful cream colored vintage convertible he had rented for the night. He hopped out and came to walk you to the car, giving you a quick kiss.

“There’s my gorgeous date for the night,” he said proudly. His comment made your cheeks heat up and you marveled at the way he could still make you blush, even after knowing him for years.

“You don’t look too bad yourself, especially in this fancy car,” you said as he opened your car door for you. Quinn had always been a gentleman to you, it was one of the things you loved most about him. He never failed to make you feel special.

“So, where does this mystery date take place, Captain Hughes?”

Quinn just shook his head as he drove. His hair was blowing softly in the breeze and the summer sun highlighted his features beautifully. You were so gone for this man.

“Can’t spoil the surprise just yet, babe.”

Twenty minutes later, Quinn pulled up to a small restaurant right on the lake. He led you inside and the hostess quickly brought you to a table in a small gazebo, right near the water.

Quinn quickly pulled out your chair for you to sit in and you giggled at his actions. He had always been chivalrous, opening doors for you, pulling out your seat. It was something you had never experienced from guys before Quinn and now you hoped you’d never have to live without it.

You reached for his hand across the table once he sat down, yearning for his touch. His hand found yours and he smiled.

“Hi babe,” he said quietly. It was only the two of you for a good twenty feet, so you couldn’t hear anyone else’s conversations, and you doubt they could hear yours, but leave it to your Quinn to still be soft spoken and sweet.

“Hi Quinny,” you said shyly. “Can’t believe you got a spot here for dinner.”

Quinn knew this restaurant was one of your favorites. It was the place three years ago where he asked you to be his girlfriend. You had an inkling that he had an important question for you tonight.

“Yeah, just wanted to bring you back to where it all started,” he said. “Remember when I asked you do be my girlfriend? I was so nervous that day.”

You could tell he was nervous again and almost started to tease him about, but a waiter came up before you could ask. The meal got underway and you didn’t get to bring it up again. The two of you talked about anything and everything, just like you always did.

Quinn had checked his phone a few times during dinner, typing away on his screen before returning to the conversation.

“Something important on there, babe?” You asked.

“Uh, just some texts about hockey stuff,” he smiled back nervously. You knew he was always busy with captain duties, but you had a feeling that he wasn’t actually texting anyone about hockey. Regardless, you nodded and finished your dinner, which was absolutely delicious as always.

The sun had started to paint the sky hues of pink and purple and you smiled at the beautiful view of the sunset over the lake. This could be the night that you become Quinn’s fiancée. The thoughts swarmed your mind and sent tears to your eyes. You loved Quinn so much, you just didn’t want to wait any longer.

“Y/N?” Quinn drew you from your thoughts.

“Hmm?” You tried not to act like you were totally distracted, but it wasn’t easy. Quinn titled his head like a confused puppy.

“You alright? You looked sad,” he said.

“Yeah, I was just thinking about us,” you said, smiling at him. “I’m the luckiest girl ever.”

“Well, I’m the luckiest guy ever.”

You could tell Quinn got a little startled at your words and how close you were to tears. He thought you had figured him out. He ate the last few bites on his plate as you did the same, and asked if you wanted to go down by the restaurant’s dock with him.

“Sure, but can I run to the bathroom first?” You asked, and he stood up quickly to pull your chair out for you so you could go inside.

“Uh, sure! I mean, yeah, of course, I will just wait here,” he said, tripping over his words.

He watched as you started to walk away from the gazebo and towards the main building and he hastily pulled out his phone. Clicking Jack’s number, he prayed his younger brother would answer in time.

“Yo,” Jack answered.

“Get back in the car or hide or something! She’s coming into the restaurant right now!”

Quinn heard a few curses and some bottles clinking as he assumed Jack and Luke were trying to get up from the bar or a table and get out of the restaurant.

“She’s going in the door near the ramp, so don’t go that way or she’ll see you.”

“We’re not, we’re outside on the patio,” Jack snapped. “You’re bossy when you’re nervous.”

Quinn rolled his eyes. He could make out two tall figures over on the patio deck who were waving at him. Jack had gone to pick Luke up from the airport and they both made their way to the restaurant, along with a photographer, to see their brother propose.

“I’m not nervous, I’m just,” but Quinn didn’t have an answer. Truthfully, he was nervous. He knew he had waited quite a while to propose, not ever doubting your relationship, but just waiting for the right moment. Quinn knew there were plenty of moments in Vancouver where he could’ve pulled out the ring he had picked out for you last year, but none of them seemed right. He wanted to propose to you at the spot where you became his girlfriend, with the beautiful lake and sunset in the background.

“Yeah, exactly,” Jack and Luke chuckled. “We’ve got the photographer waiting, she’s also excited. You got this, okay? She’s gonna say yes, she loves you, Quinn.”

Jack’s words calmed him down a little, and before he knew it, you were walking out of the restaurant. He quickly dropped the call and watched your dress shine in the evening sun. He couldn’t believe you would be his fiancée tonight.

Quinn stood to greet you, reaching for your hand, which you accepted.

“Look at how sweet they are, Quinn,” You passed by a few tables with some older couples, and your heart swelled in your chest. You hoped that would be you and Quinn someday.

Quinn just squeezed your hand, not able to say anything due to the lump in his throat.

“I hope that will be us someday, coming to the lake house and spending summers together.”

Quinn nodded and led you up the ramp, letting you go first so he could locate the photographer who gave him a small wave and thumbs up to indicate she was ready.

“Oh my god, Quinn, look at the sunset!” You walked to the edge of the dock, gazing out into the sky. You were so enamored that you didn’t realize that there were fairy lights adorning the wooden posts on the dock, which weren’t usually there. They twinkled in the waning light, and Quinn wished he was able to see how they lit up your face.

He kept a little distance between the two of you, standing to the side, just like him and the photographer had practiced the day before. Quinn reached into his pocket to grab the little velvet box. He quietly knelt down to your left side as you turned to the right and waited for his moment.

“Oh shoot, I think I left my phone at the table so I can’t take a-,” you said, turning to your left where you had felt Quinn’s presence. Unsurprisingly, he was there, since you could always tell where he was, but shockingly, he was down on one knee, staring at you.

“Quinn,” you said breathlessly, your hand coming to cover your gaping mouth.

“Y/N, I knew from the moment I met you that it was love at first sight. I knew that you were special, and that I would be lucky enough just to be your friend and have you in my life,” he said shakily. “I never thought a girl as beautiful and intelligent and perfect as you would ever walk into my life, but I’ve been so lucky to call you mine ever since.”

You couldn’t help the tears that welled in your eyes at this point. You had hoped for this moment for years, and there was no stopping the emotions now.

“I’m so grateful that you support me in my dreams and my job and I’m the proudest guy on the ice every time I know you’re up in the stands cheering me on. I could’ve never made it to where I am without you in my life, and I hope you know how much you mean to me,” Quinn said, getting choked up. “You complete my family, my life, and myself in a way that I didn’t think was possible, and I don’t ever want to do life without you.”

“I know I waited a long time to ask you this question, but I hope you know I just wanted everything to be perfect. And I thought asking you here, where it all began, was as perfect as it gets,” he said, opening the small box in his hands.

“Y/N L/N, will you marry me?” Quinn could barely get the words out of his mouth before you were nodding enthusiastically, your whole body shaking.

“Yes, Quinn, yes,” you said urgently. He chuckled nervously and placed the beautiful ring on your left ring finger. You had never put on a piece of jewelry that felt more right.

You pulled Quinn up to kiss him, and finally registered the clicks of the camera and the cheers coming from the restaurant, led by a pair of brothers you knew all too well.

“I knew you were planning something,” you giggled against his lips. “I love you so much Quinn.”

“I love you too, Y/N. Can’t wait to call you Mrs. Hughes someday.”

——————————

A/N: After seeing Jack and his gf this weekend, we all need some Quinn and Luke to heal😭😭😭 Hope you enjoyed this!!

#nhl hockey #nhl #jack hughes #luke hughes #quinn hughes being the cutie that he is #quinn hughes again #quinn hughes #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagine #umich hockey

[celaenacc]

CDD ~ Fresh Start Styled Look

If you’re like me, the first thing you do in CAS is clear everything off the sim for a nice fresh canvas. This custom styled look (when coupled with Mizore’s hider mod) is intended to make that take as few steps as possible every time. 

Download and info below the cut for future updates

Item Details:

Base Game Compatible

Toddler Infant - Elder; Masc & Fem frames (Added infant support on June 16, 2023; please redownload)

1 Variant (per frame)

Custom thumbnails

Needs @mizoreyukii’s Styled Looks Hider to truly be worth it. If you’re overly attached to EA’s styled looks, this cc probably isn’t for you.

Removes all accessories, clothing, shoes, makeup, skin details (excluding acne and scars), tattoos, facial hair and hair (changes color to dark brown for adultFem + children, blonde for AdultMasc, red for toddlers for all of them now I believe (I can’t remember tbh 😅 - if anyone knows how to remove the hair without changing the color, please hmu)

Does not change teeth, eyebrows, eye color, acne and scars (I couldn’t get it to remove these last 2 categories)

Tagged for all outfit categories

Added overrides (June 16, 2023) for shoes/bare feet and masc frame nude tops to resolve the look not applying to those categories after one of the recent patches. If you want to use an alternate override from someone else and it isn’t compatible automatically, (only do this if it’s not working otherwise) open your desired alternative in Sims4Studio, navigate to the warehouse tab, tick the setting box for “ShowInUI”, and save the file. (Edit June 6/20) I’ve been informed by @asixteenthrose that even with changing your desired override to have the showinui checked, you still need my overrides for the styled looks for some reason, and the desired override can’t be in a subfolder/must be in main mods folder.

Added “Stripped Start” (June 16, 2023) which affects the accessories, makeup, facial hair, clothing, and shoes, but does not affect hair, body hair, skin details, or tattoos. You can have both Fresh Start and Stripped Start in your folder at the same time or not; they should not conflict with nor do they depend on each other.

Downloads:

> SFS < (Current Version is a zip)

> Google Drive <  (Current Version is a zip)

Needs: > Hider Mod for EA Looks < (by MizoreYukii)

Notes:

There is no way I would have been able to figure out this project without MizoreYukii’s How to Make Custom Styled Looks tutorial, so huge thank you to her.

This look is mainly for simmers who want nothing on their sim when they start in CAS. If there is enough demand for a version that keeps existing tattoos, skin details, and maybe hair; I might make that as a v2 down the road. After receiving nonny asks, I went ahead and added a version like this while updating the original.

I timed myself clearing every outfit category for a new sim using just this look as fast as I could, and it only took 15 seconds total.

I have added patch numbers to the files in case someone needs the outdated version.

Kijiko eyebrow texture defaults cause the fem frame teen-elder not to show Fresh Start.

#ts4cc #s4cc #sims4cc #sims4cas #sims4mods #sims4casmods #mycc

[growingfunwithaimain]

Amidst the rainbow of sweets, Lily hesitated over a single candy. Its shell shimmered with a mysterious blue hue, calling to her like a siren's song. With a flick of her wrist, she snatched it off the shelf and brought it to her lips. The instant she bit down, her senses were assaulted by a burst of flavor.

But the surprise didn't end there. As she savored the delight, her skin began to transform. Starting from her fingertips, a wash of indigo washed over her limbs, spreading like ink through water. By the time she finished the last crumb, her entire being had been dyed a rich shade of midnight blue.

Yet, the crowd within the candy shop carried on as though nothing had changed. Their laughter echoed against the glass cases, their voices mere background noise to the surreal tableau unfolding before them.

Just when Lily thought things couldn’t get any more interesting, her hips decided to join the party. They began to widen, expanding like a balloon filled with joy. Soon, they were rounder than ever before, hugging her frame with a confidence that matched her newfound color scheme.

Meanwhile, her thighs grew thicker, like two ripe melons ready for plucking. The denim of her jeans clung to her legs, emphasizing every muscle and curve. Even the most stoic customer couldn’t resist the urge to ogle her backside.

In the midst of all this, Lily found herself reveling in her new form. She twirled around, watching the reactions of those who dared to look. Some turned away in shock, while others openly admired her figure. For Lily, it was a moment of pure euphoria, a celebration of her own beauty.

And so, she stood tall, proudly displaying her metamorphosis to anyone brave enough to catch a glimpse. After all, what better place to showcase one's newfound glory than inside a candy store?

With each passing minute, Lily grew taller, stretching towards the ceiling like a beanstalk reaching for the sky. Her abdominal muscles flexed beneath her skin, creating ripples that would make even the strongest gym rat jealous. And just when she thought she couldn’t possibly expand anymore, her shirt gave out, exploding in a shower of confetti.

Beneath the rubble lay her bare bosom, nipples standing at attention like sentinels guarding her treasure trove. The sheer audacity of her outfit malfunction drew stares from every corner of the shop. But Lily wasn’t fazed—she knew exactly how powerful she looked.

Her gaze locked onto a young man who had been eyeing her since the beginning. He blushed furiously, his cheeks turning redder than the cherry lollipops he held. Without saying a word, Lily extended her hand, beckoning him closer. With a nod of consent, he approached, his steps hesitant yet eager.

Together, they left the candy store, arm in arm, heading toward whatever adventure awaited beyond its doors. As they walked down the street, Lily felt invincible, knowing that wherever they went, they would turn heads and start conversations. Because sometimes, the best kind of candy isn’t something you eat; it’s someone you can take home.

Another request for @realmofgoddesses! I think this has been my favorite request to work on so far! It was a lot of fun and took a long time to get it the way i wanted it but that's why im taking requests! to learn more and improve!

#breast expansion #expansion kink #breast growth #giant breasts #growth #ai art #ai girl #artificial intelligence #ai #giantess

[manias-wordcount]

Pretty Little Thing (Howl Jenkins Pendragon)

Kinktober 2022 Day Twenty-One: Collaring

𝙒𝙖𝙣𝙩 𝙩𝙤 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚? ⇒ 𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

𝙟𝙤𝙞𝙣 𝙢𝙮 𝙙𝙞𝙨𝙘𝙤𝙧𝙙 𝙨𝙚𝙧𝙫𝙚𝙧?

He made it by hand. The pretty little thing it is. That was all him. Crafted every single inch of it. Poured his magic into every single part of it. And you find that being the reason why your hand always seems to make its way back to it. Even while out in public.

 Of course, you’ve gotten many questions about it. Many ladies have stopped you on the street, asking where you’ve gotten such a fine and revolutionary piece of jewelry. A few gentlemen have stopped you as well- inquiring to your softly about where they might find something quite like what you have for a woman they were holding dear to their hearts. But you couldn’t answer all the questions. The questions that mattered the most to these strangers who stopped you in the street. But you were able to answer one question each time, without fail. But it was an answer that never satisfied those who were fixing to purchase. An answer that puzzled those who were just simply curious.

 “My fiance, Howl. He gave me this necklace,” You would tell people. “He made it by hand.”

 And you don’t blame the huffs and puffs of frustration that response would earn you. The necklace draped around your neck is truly a sight to behold. It sits high up on your neck- wrapped around your throat in a way just tight enough to keep it in place. A style that it’s too common in your society of flowy skirts and airy shirts. From what you know, it is a simple silver chain wrapped in a piece of black fabric for both your comfort and style. The fabric feels like silk against your throat. Never irritating your skin. Only coddling it as you go about your days. And the color makes it easy to match with your dresses. You have yet to find an outfit that clashes with your little necklace. And you know Howl intended for it to be this way from the very start.

 Though the part that always managed to catch people’s eyes is the gem. A small, modest white gem is attached to the necklace. It’s rounded in the shape of a teardrop and hangs delicately from the fabric-colored chain. And while it may be small, you know it is mighty. The luster and the shimmer of the gem never fails to draw people’s attention to you and your necklace. It shines so sweetly. It gleams so gently. A gem so proud and so perfect, you can’t help but start to believe that perhaps Calcifer really was the fire behind the beauty of your stone. Even if every time Howl tells you that, it’s with a sly smile and a quick wink.

 But there’s a part to your necklace that only the two of you know. A part that you like the most out of every feature. A part that makes you feel adored. Loved. Wanted. Almost like it’s a secret designed to make you feel so special. 

 “This way, my dear.” 

 A secret that you can’t help but be reminded of in moments like these.

 It’s not often that you find yourself going on an outing with Howl. He hardly ever leaves the castle these days- the shopping often left up to you and Markl. So when he said he had an errand to run and he wanted you to join, you couldn’t help but grow excited. To show off the necklace was one thing. But to walk through the town as you hung off of the arm of such a handsome man- it brought a feeling of pride that you couldn’t help but love to feel. Only, he doesn’t always guide you with his arm. Because sometimes…

 “Are you alright, my dear? You looked flustered.”

 Sometimes he guides you by the necklace too.

 “I-” You find yourself starting to say something, but the words are easily lost in your throat as you find yourself unsure of what to say. Howl gives you a look of innocence as he stands a few feet away from you. Acting as if he’s not sure what could put you in such a flushed state while out in public. But behind those wide blue eyes of his, you can see his mischievous and tricky nature - clear as day. It complements the smirk he’s just barely fighting off as the corner of his lips twitch upwards. And you want so badly to give him a pointed look back as if it would be equal to the emotions you feel. But then you feel it again. “H-Howl!”

 The tug of your necklace. Closer to where he stands.

 “Ah, it seems my dear fiance has missed me,” He remarks, tone gentle and words as floaty as the breeze that surrounds you both. There is magic in the air. His magic. And the way your necklace buzzes with excitement tells you that it’s true. “Come closer, my love. You know I don’t bite.”

 You don’t know how, but he somehow manages to make you even more flustered with quiet implication in his words. Though it’s not the first time he has done this. Yet, it never fails to warm your cheeks as you watch him make the subtle flick of a wrist to pull you forward and closer to his grasp. And to any other eyes, you know it’ll look like you’ve stumbled. You know it will look like you’re tripping over your feet to get back to your fiance who had just walked a few paces ahead of you. But those eyes don’t know the truth. Like the strangers they are, they’ll look on for a moment before going about their lives. 

 But you will look at Howl. And Howl will look at you. He'll look at your eyes and your nose. Your mouth and your cheeks. Your neck and your chest-

 This next time it happens, you’re a little more prepared. Your body is a little more willing to take those steps forward as another flick of the wrist has you moving even closer to him. Pulling you closer with the necklace- the leash that only he could see. That only he can control. That only he can make. And you’ll let him. Even if it causes you a few moments of embarrassment while out in public. Even if it causes you a few moments of inconvenience while you’re doing something else.

 Because Howl gifted you a beautiful necklace. One that stands out in a crowd but fits right in with all your clothes. One that holds a spectacular but modest gem. One that allows him to pull you closer to him with magic and magic alone. And when you’re close enough to touch him, it’s a necklace that sits on your throat so perfectly, that it goes well with the feeling of his fingers grazing your neck above and below the fabric. A necklace that he made by hand. A necklace that he crafted with magic. A necklace that he controls with love. 

 A necklace that only he can take off. 

 A necklace that you never want to take off.

 Because you desire to feel its magic. You desire to feel its power. You desire to feel its connection. To its creator. To its source. To its origin. 

 To Howl.

#Howl Jenkins Pendragon #howl #howl x reader #howl's moving castle #Howl Pendragon #wizard howl #howl jenkins pendragon x reader #howl jenkins x reader #howl jenkins #howl pendragon x reader #howl's moving castle fanfic #howl's moving castle x reader #howl's moving castle fanfitction #studio ghibli #studio ghibli x reader #studio ghibli fanfic #studio ghibli fanfiction #x reader #xreader #fanfiction #fanfic

[lawrites]

Rubens Can Suck It!!

Sweet Gotham S1! Edward Nygma x Plus Size! Female Reader

You are having an awful day when someone leaves a note on your desk, describing your figure. It sets you off, and Ed is the one who seeks to comfort you.

This fic features a LOT of insecurities, specifically around being plus size. It talks about the feeling of being seen by others and how shitty some officers at the GCPD are. But Ed is sweet. No warnings beyond that EXCEPT some dirty thoughts from Ed 👀.

It's been an awful morning and it's only 8 AM.

As a woman who works in a field primarily made up of men, especially a plus size woman, you have made your confidence into your armor. Yeah some of the officers could be pigs, (most of them, actually), but you do love your body and how it looks, so it doesn't bother you.

You enjoy wearing bold colors, pretty dresses, structured pant suits, and even pencil skirts to work most days. They make you feel infallible, and you KNOW you look cute in them. No matter what those tiny men say, you can get through the day feeling good.

And usually...it works. There are some days that you think everyone struggles with their looks, no matter their size. It's what happens when your society is constantly screaming "YOU CAN BE BETTER BUY THIS PRODUCT" at you from all angles.

And so, while you are beating yourself up for letting your confidence slip, you decide to go ahead and make yourself more comfortable while you get it back. Especially because trying to force it wasn't working.

Every glance in the mirror was followed by a critical voice, today. Your hair just didn't sit right, your chosen outfit was too tight and the textures were bothering you, and the high heels you sometimes wear would clack and bring eyes to you. All of that sounded just...exhausting, especially when you just want to get through the day and go home without drawing any attention to yourself.

While usually a pair of eyes on you wouldn't bother you, the thought of Harvey Bullock only staring at your tits when he talks to you, or Jim glancing up and down in what he thinks is a subtle way, or any of the officers giggling when you walk by...yeah it would take only one thing to set you off today, you can tell.

So, while it isn't the most flattering outfit you own, you throw your hair into a ponytail and pull an oversized sweater and linen pants on. Comfy, cozy, still professional enough, and properly disguising your body from any eyes, appreciative or insulting.

After that rollercoaster of emotions while you were getting ready, you don't have time to stop for coffee on your way in, which just adds to your mood. And, of fucking course, some guy decided to begin terrorizing Gotham at 7 in the fucking morning, so all public transport is delayed.

You barely manage to get to your desk by 8 AM with no coffee and already in a bad mood. Setting your stuff down, you dig your palms into your eyes, trying to fight off the urge to just leave. A small slip of paper in neat handwriting makes you smile just a bit, though.

What is always found on the ground

But never gets dirty?

You struggle for a second, your brain moving at a slow pace thanks to the lack of coffee. That is, until you hear footsteps and something blocks the lights streaming in from the windows. You gasp and turn towards Edward Nygma, who is standing right next to you and casting a...

"Shadow!" You blurt out.

He gives you one of his sweet, tight-lipped smiles and nods. "Correct!"

You force a cheery tone to your voice so you don't spoil his mood. Ed may be a bit...odd, but he is one of your best friends here, and he doesn't deserve to be brought down just because you aren't in a good mood. "Great! How many is that so far, Eddie?"

He immediately recites, "That would be 85 riddles correctly guessed out of 90 I have shared with you. 3 you needed a hint for and 2 you did not solve entirely."

You cross your arms in mock anger. "Hey! I did my best! Those ones were hard. It's almost like you wanted me to fail or something."

He hurriedly scrambles to get the next sentence out, "Oh! Oh I would n-never! I j-just..."

Whoops, guess your bad mood made that "mock" anger sound more like actual anger. You take on a placating tone, "Ed, it's ok! I know you just enjoy riddles. And sometimes that big brain of yours makes up a new one that stumps me."

You laugh, maybe a bit bitterly, now, as your bad mood forces itself to the front again. The next sentence is nearly mumbled, "I mean, it must be difficult, sometimes, making puzzles for someone who isn't as smart as you."

Ed seems confused more than anything, now. "I'm...I'm not sure what brought that on, but writing down riddles for you every morning is f-fun for me!"

You sigh, twirling a pen from your desk in your hand to avoid eye contact. "It's just...it's just one of those days, Ed. I couldn't find an outfit that made me look nice..."

Ed interrupts you with his insistence, but he still stumbles over his words, "B-but you always look n-nice!"

Your smile comes out as a grimace, "You're sweet, Ed, but everyone doesn't think so." You glance around to make sure that your next words aren't overheard. "I know that I can usually brush cruel insults away, because I try to tell myself I'm beautiful..." You choke out the last part of your sentence, cutting yourself off before you get too emotional in the middle of the office.

You get up and decide to leave the main lobby to get some of the shitty coffee from the break room. At least there you could better disguise the tears in your eyes. "It's really not a big deal, Ed. I guess I'm just not myself, today. Give it a day or two and I'll be more amusing."

And without waiting for a response, you hurry off.

He stands there awkwardly for a few moments, unsure how to respond to the dismissal you just gave him. Usually the two of you would talk for at least 5 more minutes.

Wracking his brain as he walks away, he tries to think of something to cheer you up.

-----------------------------------------

Rubens

Flashes of his paintings fly through Ed's mind as he attempts to type out a sweet note to you. Every time he gets a glance of a plush thigh or your soft belly, he thinks of how he painted Venus, the Goddess of Beauty.

A voice he's been trying to avoid for a while now pipes up, Yeah, Goddess of only beauty? I'm sure that's all you're thinking about, Ed. How about Goddess of Se-

Ed cuts the voice off before it can finish that thought, but now he is unfortunately thinking about it, even at work. Rubens didn't paint all of his women clothed, especially Venus. Her nude form fuses with yours in Ed's mind, haunting him, taunting him.

There's just...so much he can play with. Your body...so much he can sink his long fingers into. He goes back to your belly, what he has ascertained to be the main source of your insecurity. He empathizes with that, but all he can think of whenever you wear something tight is bending you over in the medical lab on site and holding onto that plush belly as he-

Again, he cuts himself off. He would like to think that the other voice took over again there, but those thoughts were all him. He adjusts himself a bit as he sits at his desk, trying to be subtle.

Then he looks back at the screen in front of him, remembering your mood today, and that hits him like a bucket of cold water. He curses the tears in your eyes from old insecurities popping up again. He has seen you become more and more confident in your time at the GCPD, learning to ignore the pigs that giggle at everything that isn't "normal" to them.

Ed knows that feeling, and especially the taunts from those cops, well. He's off, to them. He never quite knows when to start or end a conversation, and he injects his interests even when he knows people are tired of them.

And that's why he likes (loves) you. You always smile and try with his riddles. You even continue to talk to him after, and are interested in who he is outside of work! That's rare. And if he could return that joy you have given him every day, it would be worth it for the possibility of you figuring out his true thoughts.

Unfortunately, while he has a mind for riddles, analytics, and all things mathematical, he has not been as blessed with poetry. So he wants to type this out...if nothing else than to keep you from feeling like you owe him something.

He types and deletes and types and deletes, looks at the clock, drums his fingers on the desk, and then types slowly this time. Reading it over, he nods at what he has written. It's not amazing, but he hopes it will make you feel like there are people in the office that are on your side, maybe even a secret admirer.

-------------------------------------

And now you're soaking wet. You just wanted to escape your desk and get a simple sandwich and the sky decided that it was a perfect time to begin a deluge right before you got back to the GCPD building. Why? God hates you, apparently. There's no other explanation that would satisfy your overdramatic mind at this point in time.

Luckily you managed to keep your precious food dry by stuffing it under your coat, but the rest of you is definitely not so lucky. You huff and start towards your desk. Bullock sees you on the way, starts a sentence of some sort, (most likely to quip at your condition), but the glare you send his way shuts him up immediately.

You end up collapsing at your desk and peeling off your outer coat, feeling the air conditioning of the building start to combine with your wet clothes to make a chill seep into your bones. Trying to ignore it but unable to suppress a shiver, you place your food on your desk...wait...is that? It is! Someone left a little typed note to you under the bag.

You pick up the note, giving it a quick glance to see if there was anything to connect it to someone. There are no initials or name...hmmm.

Your eyes read over the words on the page once...twice. And your heart shatters. How could...why would...how could someone be so heartless that they would taunt you today of all days?

There is a group of those rude, awful officers that like to congregate together around the water cooler, gossiping and laughing at anyone who wasn't them. But right now, one of them is talking while looking directly at you, and when he stops he throws his head back in laughter, with the rest following.

Holding back a sob, you crumple the letter in your hand and get out of the room as fast as you can without running. As soon as you are out of their sight, tears start streaming down your face and you run to a nearby empty room. It doesn't even matter what it is, you just care that it's empty and safe and lock the door behind you, collapsing against a wall and trying to catch your breath as you gasp for air.

You hold that position for only about 30 seconds, trying to muffle your sobs so they couldn't be heard by anyone outside, but apparently you weren't quiet enough. A quiet knock sounds on the door.

Tap tap tap

You do your best to school your voice, but it still comes out shaky as you reply "Please find another room."

But the voice that filters through the door is one you recognize well.

"Y-you looked cold, so I brought you an emergency blanket. Oh! And a-also your lunch."

You let out a sob, unable to stifle it. "T-thank you, Ed." And you walk over to the door to unlock it, opening it just a tad so he can't see your state.

But Ed is observant, and even with what little you present to him, he can see you are massively upset. Your eyes are bloodshot, and you are trembling, whether from the cold or from your current emotions, that he can't tell. He tries his best to gather some courage.

"W-would you mind if I sat with you for l-lunch?" He holds up your bag of food and you notice that his own lunch is clasped in his hand behind it.

Quickly, you try to consider if you are ready to fully cry in front of Ed, but his kind, if nervous, smile and his own insistence on joining you made you certain that he wouldn't be too judgemental.

You turn your head to the side to try and hide it a bit more as you step back to open the door. Your arm sweeps over to gesture to where you were sitting. "Be my guest, Mr. Nygma."

This makes him let out a nervous chuckle, but he enters anyway. You close the door behind him and lock it.

"I hope you don't mind, I just don't want anyone to see me...well..."

He nods, "That is perfectly understandable."

You both stand awkwardly for a few moments, but you eventually feel the floor calling to you again, so you nestle against the wall where you previously had collapsed. Ed slowly settles down at a respectable distance from you, his gangly limbs shuffling until he finds a comfortable position.

When he hands you your bag of food, he decides it's better to talk about what happened than sit in silence. "M-may I ask why you are upset?" You glance at him, and your eyes start to fill with tears again. He hurriedly starts to stutter through another sentence, "Oh! B-but if you p-prefer not to talk about it, t-that's ok!"

You shake your head, glancing down at the floor. "I just...I guess people like to take advantage of you when you're down sometimes, Ed."

You sigh, but begin feeling more angry than sad. "I mean, I've been in a bad mood all day, I got rained on when I was just trying to get some food, and then some asshole leaves me this."

You open your hand to reveal the crumpled note to Ed. He keeps his face as neutral as he can, recognizing it. Oh no, you fucked up, Ed! The voice in his head gleefully taunts.

Your sniffle brings him back, and you look down at the note, spreading it out so you can read it out loud.

"While you are not seen by others as a beauty

I cannot keep myself from glancing at your desk.

Your figure is full, and yet one word sticks truly,

I can only describe you as such: Rubenesque."

Ed ponders over the poem, while a bit rudimentary, it was full of his true compliments to you. But your face crumples when you get to the last word, stuttering it out.

Your eyes look to him, "I mean, Ed! How could someone write this?"

You see his face scrunch in confusion. "I admit, I do not quite understand. I see nothing wrong with the note?"

Feeling frustration well inside of you, you gesture with your hands wildly. "Nothing wrong? It's that word, Rubenesque!! It's an insult, I know it, especially with how those assholes were glancing at me as I read it, laughing once I was done."

Ed seems to be more confused now. "I was not aware it was an insult?"

You nod, and remember all of the times you have heard it in the past, "It's always been used by people who want to try and appear to be kind, but truly aren't. They call me Rubenesque in this snide tone, like it's something they can barely stand to spit out of their mouths."

Ed tries to interrupt, but you continue, softer now. "I just don't know Ed. The whole note seems to be mocking me...calling me full figured and not a beauty. Am I really that bad?" He shakes his head while you feel tears starting again, so you look down at the floor.

Now at a whisper, you barely get out the next words. "I just...I don't even want someone to like me anymore. I just want them to leave me alone." With that vulnerable confession, you sob, and bring your hands to your face, trying desperately to cover it. A shiver runs through you again.

After a few beats, you feel warmth around you, and you glance up to see that Ed has moved closer to cover you with the blanket he brought. His long arms stay in place in a hug after he positions it, keeping you close to him. You are a bit taken aback, as the most that Ed has touched anyone in the past was maybe a handshake.

He leans down so you can hear him, his voice more sure, now, even if it is soft. "Do you know about the painter, Rubens?"

You shake your head. "Is that where the term comes from?" He nods. Not feeling charitable, you grab the blanket and bring it closer around you as you grumble out, "Rubens can suck it."

He lets out a giggle at that, and you feel your heart warm at the noise. "I understand that you feel it is an insult...would you mind if I explain what it really means?"

You nod, because even if it is as bad as you make it out to be, at least you can hear his voice as he explains it.

One of his hands strokes the blanket surrounding you, right on top of your arm. "Rubens painted many different subjects, but the descriptor of Rubenesque usually refers to his nude paintings of women. Specifically, women like Venus."

You lift up your head to look at him. "Venus as in the Goddess of Beauty?"

He nods, gently. "Yes, among...other things." His eyes darken for just a moment before returning to his informative rant. "The women he paints are known to be full-figured, yes, but they are beautiful because of that, in my opinion."

You sit as still as you can, barely breathing, wanting to hear every word he says. A long finger comes under your chin and guides your face until you are looking right at him. "I wrote you that note. I think you are the definition of beauty."

And with that, he brings you gently forward, looking in your eyes the whole time. You let him, and lean forward to meet his lips. The kiss you share is sweet and short, but it fills you with a giddiness that makes you feel like a teen experiencing her first kiss again.

You separate smiling at each other, and Ed reaches up to kiss your forehead. "I apologize for upsetting you. I was trying to be a secret admirer."

You chuckle, "Yeah, well, it didn't help that I read the note as uncharitably as I could." You glance up at him, "I'm sorry for crumpling it up in anger."

He shakes his head. "D-don't apologize. I'll write you as m-many bad poems as you want." One of his long arms slowly moves down, and a finger traces your hip over the blanket. "Is this ok?"

You feel a warmth spark through you again as he makes contact, and all you trust yourself to do is nod. He nuzzles into your neck, whispering in your ear.

"I want you to know, right now, so there is no doubt, I love your body. These hips, your plush belly...even your soft arms." You feel his warm breath on your ear, and it makes you shudder. "They all remind me of art, and they make me want to..."

He trails off, and brings his hand away from your hip quickly, as if burned. You miss his touch, already, and confusedly ask, "What? Ed?"

You can't tell anything from his neutral face, but he gets up, suddenly, grabbing your lunches together again. "Let's find a better place for lunch, more comfortable...maybe with a table."

You nod, standing up with him. As you position the blanket around you, Ed wraps an arm around your waist.

"A-and...if you would like...have dinner with me tonight. I'll cook for you and...tell you more of my thoughts."

Your cheeks heat up, and his do as well. "Ed, I..." You think for a moment. "I'd love to have dinner with you."

He grins at you, again-one of his sappy, closed mouth grins-and leads you out of the room in his embrace. The two of you chat and giggle, seeking out a proper place for lunch and ignoring all of the stares you get. If you have each other, the rest of the world doesn't matter.

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#lawrites #plus size reader #x reader #reader #plus size fic #gotham #gotham x reader #edward nygma x reader #gotham rogues x reader #gotham edward nygma

[spop-romanticizes-abuse]

so 96% of you wanted to see me do a redesign of mermista. and while i can draw, i've been stuck in an art block so i opted to just draw over her current design. i don't hate all of it so i'm not changing everything.

let me go through the complaints i do have about her design.

first off, she does not look like royalty in the slightest. she just looks like some girl who likes the color blue. even the gold accents don't really help. i'm not saying she has to walk around in a gown and tiara but at least add something to her design to indicate that she's a princess?

secondly, those clown shoes are NOT IT. who even thought of that? they look uncomfortable and ridiculous, and doesn't make sense for her character design.

those sleeves/armor (??? i honestly don't know what those are) and gold gauntlets also do not look practical in the slightest. they look like they'd be a hindrance for a swimmer. and guess what, she still has them in her mermaid form.

the OG mermista design wasn't the greatest but at least it looked like she could swim comfortably.

so my objectives were:

give her outfit a more streamlined look so it would make sense for her powers

make her look like actual royalty and not some girl with a cool color palette

expand more on the indian-inspired design and reflect that in her usual outfit, instead of putting her in a saree-inspired dress for one episode and calling it a day (i say saree-inspired because it's not really a traditional saree, but more like a modern and slightly western rendition)

i made two versions of her redesign - one with a dupatta and one without. the dupatta, i understand, could be a hindrance in certain situations but i just wanted to give an example of how to take inspiration from a culture instead of just using it for brownie points. a dupatta is something indians would wear with their casual attire, mostly with salwars, unlike sarees which are generally reserved for special occasions (there are sarees that are casual wear, but they're still not the most convenient).

secondly, i gave her a headwear inspired from desi wedding attire and older indian tiaras. mind you, indian tiaras themselves are a lot more complex and beautifully crafted, but 1. it would take me ages to draw all the details and 2. i figured mermista would go for a simpler look, especially when she's not at her palace. also, while indian headwears are usually made with gold and jewels, i gave mermista's headwear pearls because.. pearls, oysters, ocean. mermaid vibes.

i changed the shoes and gave her a pair that are inspired by water shoes. i know that she would transform into a mermaid while swimming anyway, but these still look more comfortable without serving clowncore.

i replaced her gold accents with silver because the gold doesn't really mesh well with the teal, in my opinion. while indians are known for their love of gold, a lot of people nowadays opt for silver, because it is less expensive and more compatible with casual wear.

i highlighted the fishscale pattern in her outfit since you could barely see them in the original.

i gave her a bindi and the necklace that 80s mermista wore, as a tribute to the OG show, and the design is complete. i know that some of these may not be the easiest to animate but if they could animate perfuma's cape thing, entrapta's hair and a hundred different outfits for catra; this design is just child's play.

let me know what you think of the redesign and if you want me to do the same for the other characters!

#spop critical #spop #spop criticism #spop discourse #she ra #spop redesign #character redesign #character design #mermista #mermista redesign

[brivinty]

B.I.M.B.O!! I JUST WANNA BE A STUPID HOE! <3

Featuring; Gojo x bimbo reader (female)

TW; mentions of eating out, overstim, praise? Sugar daddy Gojo... Summary; Gojos loves his bimbo girlfriend. <3 Quick oneshot ★

—

Gojo loves you, the way your tiny mini skirts barely cover your ass. The way your crop top is barely covering your bra. The way you jump up and down in excitement when you see him even though you're wearing moon boots that’ll hurt your ankles if you jump too much. The way you always show off your nails that he watched get done, and paid for.

He just adores you so much. When you get lost in the mall he’ll purposely pretend he can’t find you, just to see you yelling his name all stupid-like. He doesn’t like to call you stupid or anything, and he definitely doesn’t think you're stupid, but it’s just the way you're always in your little world. Sometimes he thinks you aren't even paying attention when he speaks, and only the gods know how you managed to pass through high school and college.

—

“Toru!! Look, I got my nails done in pink with diamonds because blue’n pink match lots.”

“Baby, those aren’t diamonds it’s just white spots..”

“Nuh-uh! What you know about nails Toru’ nothin' ~!”

“Ok, princess..”

—

Gojo loves car rides with you because you’ll be doing your makeup or fixing up your hair, and he’ll purposely speed up just to watch you panic and mess up. “Toru… you made me mess up!” You would whine loudly with a frown on your face looking at how your lip gloss smudged, or how your hair looks unfluffed when it's usually big and curly. “s’ok princess do you want me to mess it up more? Then you can just restart.” Gojo would say smiling so wide before moving you into the backseat. And you, of course, comply because you would do anything to make your boyfriend happy.

—-

“Toru, pick a color, pretty please?” You asked holding up three colors for him to choose from. “Pink” He’d say knowing that’s the color you want truthfully. “Mk! Thank you, Toru, baby!” You would reply all giggly and happy that he had chosen the color you wanted. He’d follow you to the lady who’s doing your nails watching as you smile and wave enthusiastically at the lady who'd sweat drop at you, your outfits just seemed to get more revealing daily. “Hi!! I brought my own little crystals to put on my nails! Do you think you can put them on my nails when you're done?” You ask sweetly as the lady nods at you with a smile. “Toru’ do you have my bag?” You’d ask him with big doe eyes worried you had forgotten it at home, and of course, he did, anything you left in his car he’d grab it because he knows you’ll need it. “Mhm, is this what you’re talking bout?” He’d ask holding up the gems knowing it is what you need.

“Oo! You’re so smart! It is! Smarty pants toru!” You’d say before taking it out his hand and giving him a quick kiss on the lips before sitting down. He’d always sit down right next to you throughout the whole nail session and then take you out for something to eat. You’d get home and go shower and you’d get out with a pink towel that was way too small for your body and Gojo loves it. “Princess c’mere” he’d ask, and you would walk to him without a single thought going through your head. Next thing you know, he’s in between your thighs sucking you dry, overstimulating you.

“Toru!! S’to much!!” You’d yell but in reality, you’re enjoying it so much. “One more for me baby? Please..?” Gojo asks and you’ll always say yes because the way the word ‘please’ rolls off his tongue is just so addicting to you.

Pt 2. Here! :)

#gojo x fem reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojou satoru x you #gojo x y/n #gojo smut #saturo gojo x reader #jjk gojo #jjk smut #gojo scenario

[strawberry-whorecake]

It Started With A Book | C.B.

pairing: Charlie Barber x fem!reader

summary: You were Henry’s babysitter. He employed you to watch his son. You were a pretty little thing, and he should’ve known better than to pursue you… but damn could he just not help himself.

word count: 6.7k

warnings: swearing, age gap (reader is of age), dirty talk, praise, innocence kink, size kink, breeding kink (kind of??), PinV sex, unprotected sex, fingering, mentions of the book ‘Lolita’

A/N: the ‘Henry’s babysitter’ thing has been done before so full credit to everyone else who’s written one for the inspo !! i let my daddy issues run rampant with this one whoops

Charlie had known you since you were sixteen. He hired you for the first time when he was still with Nicole, before the entirely messy divorce had unfolded. 

You were bright eyed and eager to please, which he liked. He was even more gratified when Henry took an immediate liking to you, especially since Henry didn’t click with many others.

He adored the way that you adored Henry, how you indulged to him one time that you saw the job more like hanging out with a friend; that you didn’t see Henry as an obligation, but as someone you enjoyed being around.

He was especially thankful that following the divorce you still didn’t seem to mind in the slightest to keep babysitting for him when he had obligations he simply couldn’t get out of; or in simpler terms— him not wanting to bring Henry to the theater and keep him up past his bedtime. 

Charlie cursed himself for the way he took more notice of you the moment you turned eighteen— the way you interacted with Henry, the way your lashes would flutter when you wished him goodnight before you left, the way your soft lips would curl into a gentle smile when he’d walk in the door. 

He scrutinized the way he could recall every flick of color in your irises. The way your skin looked soft and supple. He damned the innocent air that surrounded you, the one he so desperately wanted to defile and tear into with his teeth. 

He knew it was wrong, and he hated himself for it. But goddamn could he not help himself when he got sight of you. 

He looked forward to the private moments when Henry was fast asleep that you two would share a small and admittedly polite conversation, typically about the books you were reading before he would unfortunately wish you goodnight and safe travels home. 

He cherished those moments because while you’d ramble on about everything you and Henry had done in the evening, he’d get to stare into your eyes— look over your gorgeous features— and if he was feeling particularly daring and depraved, sneak a glance down your body. 

Tonight was no exception. It was a little after ten pm when he pulled open the door. He watched as you perked up at his arrival and he selfishly relished in the attention.

“Hi, Charlie. How was everything at the theater?” you spoke in a hushed voice, same as you did every night. He watched as you shut the book in your hands, placing it in your lap as he pulled off his coat and set down his case. 

“Oh, you know…” he said with an airy chuckle, allowing his eyes to look over you again as they did when you first arrived earlier this evening. He looked forward to looking at you more so when he’d arrive home, in the privacy of just you and him.

“Henry’s asleep?” he asked, eyes looking over your chosen outfit. The shirt you wore from a band that he without a doubt believed you’d barely knew of their greatness as they came before your time. That pleated tennis skirt that stopped just at the beginning of your thighs. His eyes wandered farther, down to the ankles of your socks and that pair of utterly adorable mary janes.

You nodded curtly, and he watched those lips of yours pull up into the corners. “He had dinner- all he wanted was mac and cheese, so I gave in." you giggled sweetly, "Then we played board games for a while before he went to bed at eight, like you asked.”

‘Good girl’ had almost burst from his lips, but he quickly stifled it with a gentle clearing of his throat. “Perfect. What is it this time?” he nodded toward the book in your lap. You picked it up, outstretching it towards him. “It’s uh, Lolita by Vladimir Nabokov, are you familiar?” 

Charlie hummed as he turned the book over in his hands, he noticed the way your eyes followed his movements. “I am actually. Quite a controversial novel, but I’ll admit the writing is fantastic.” 

You nodded again, “I couldn’t agree more. It’s written beautifully considering…" Your gentle chuckle filled the room with such an air of purity, he couldn’t help but crack a soft smile as he handed you back the book.

He watched as you stood, smoothing out the fabric of your skirt— his sign the night was ending… tonight, he couldn’t let that happen. He held up a thick finger, “Hold that thought, will you?” 

He took notice to the confused look in your wide eyes, but you nodded once more, and with the okay he slipped into his bedroom momentarily, running his fingers along his vast collection of books until he found what he was looking for. 

Returning a moment later with a haste to his steps as he couldn’t wait to be facing you once more, he held out the book in your direction. “Here, this is for you.”

He watched your eyes look curiously to the book in his hand before you took it in both of yours. He watched as your eyes wandered the cover of his copy of Lolita, your lashes fluttered in astonishment and disbelief before those eyes of yours met his. “Charlie… you can’t be serious…” 

He chuckled, shrugging nonchalantly. “I’m partial to hardcovers myself,” he used a thick finger to tap the book now in your hands. “This is a first edition print, but it’s still in mint condition.” 

His words made your fingers loosen slightly on your grip, your eyes widening a bit more. “Charlie…”

He shook his head, “No, no, take it. I want you to have it.” 

Your brows knit lightly as you looked at him, trying to find any ounce that he wasn’t serious— but oh, was he. Just the idea of your small, nimble, perfectly manicured little fingers caressing the pages before you’d turn to the next one made him more than sure of what he was doing. He loved your hands, and how little they were in comparison to his— but then again, everything about him was huge in comparison to you. 

“I’m going to give you a hug for this, that’s your warning.” you giggled, making him smile again. His eyes followed you as you turned to carefully place the book on the couch before you turned to him again, practically colliding with him as your arms did their best to wrap around his broad frame. 

He easily entangled his arms around you, it only took one of his arms to encompass you, but he indulged himself in wrapping them both around your back, gently rubbing it with his hand. 

He felt you sigh softly, felt the rise and fall of your chest against him as his hands slowly tangled into your hair, playing with it around his fingers. 

You looked up at him— you looked like an angel. Your eyes wide, blinking softly as you looked up at him. Your cheeks tinged with color. 

His heart kicked up speed, he could feel his own cheeks growing pink with fluster. His hand trailed from your back, using his knuckles to caress their way up to your cheek until he took your face against his palm. You were utterly still under his touch as he drew you in closer— his longing to feel you against him was unbearable... 

“Would you maybe… let me kiss you?” Your breath hitched in your throat, your chest stuttering slightly in response as he held your gaze to be locked in on his. Your perfect lips parted, but they made no sound. His inquiry had rendered you speechless, forcing you to nod in response. 

He felt as his lips curled up into a smile, unable to stop himself. His thumb caressed the soft skin of your cheek, urging your neck to crane further upward to meet his height as he leaned in, watching as your eyelids fluttered shut. He pressed his lips against your plush and plump awaiting lips. 

He could feel your heartbeat against his own body, and for a moment he couldn’t discern whose heart was beating faster with the thumping of his own heart ringing in his ears. 

He felt your arms snake around his body and press flat against his chest, he couldn’t help but lean into your touch. The feeling of your hands on him was like pure bliss— a sin he’d so often dreamt about. He couldn’t stop himself from letting his hand fall from your face as his arms encircled you, finding their way to the backs of your thighs, feeling just how plush and smooth the skin of your legs were against the pad of his fingers as he pulled you closer to him. He let his thumbs caress your flesh. 

He also couldn’t stop the gentle groan of pleasure that pulled from his lips. You were pure ecstasy to him. Your body against his, the gentility of your lips, the sweet and mild smell of your shampoo– all of it overwhelmed his senses and drew him into you, if he had half a mind he’d admit that all of this grew a kindling flame of obsession for you. 

Now that he was in, he was all in. All his cards in your basket. Previously he just loved the small things about you but now he felt he had a deeper knowledge of you that dove beyond the surface, and he was drowning in you.

He pulled away just slightly, his lips ghosting over yours not wanting to be apart from them for too long. “You taste so sweet.” he purred before diving back against your lips, catching your bottom between his teeth as he tugged at it gently. When you whimpered at his actions he felt like his brain was going into overdrive. He was dizzy, his head full of just you and he couldn’t get enough of it. 

Your voice was soft, slightly embarrassed, and stuttered as you spoke. “Ch-Charlie… I’ve wanted to kiss you for quite some time now.” 

He hummed at your words, fingers teasing shapes into the flesh on the back of your thighs, making your bottom lip quiver as he looked you over. He had you eating out of his palm and that’s exactly where he wanted you. He saw the embarrassment flicker through your eyes at your own admission and he pulled you impossibly closer again– if you were any further against his body you��d be inside his bones, and he wasn’t sure that he minded that idea all that much. Those perfect fingers of yours trailed up and down his chest pulling a deep sigh from within it. 

He buried his lips against your neck, tasting how sweet and soft and warm you were and he couldn’t help but imagine how you’d taste from between your thighs. He purred your name, “Jump…” he instructed. 

He saw the slight confusion flood over your expression, and he pinched at the back of your thighs again. To his relief, you obliged. Your arms tangled around his neck and with a leap he quickly grabbed hold of your waist as your legs wrapped around his hips.

It seemed you couldn’t control yourself just as he, and your lips immediately found his as he walked you backward before pinning you between him and the wall. “You’re such a tease, you know that?” he hummed against your lips, his cock twitching in his slacks as you whimpered again. 

“J-Just don’t drop me, will you?” you piped up, a hint of nervousness in your tone and he chuckled darkly. “I would never, I’ve got you.” he assured, pushing you against the wall with his hips as his hands gripped your sides. His lips crashed into yours with intense fervor, tracing his tongue along your bottom lip before prodding his tongue into your mouth. You tasted like candy– so incredibly sweet it almost made his teeth ache but he couldn’t get enough. 

His fingers teased the hem of your shirt, feeling the fabric of your top against his skin. “Can I take this off?” his tone was as polite as he could manage, but there was a hint of order to it, like it wasn’t truly an inquiry but a warning that he was going to remove it anyway. His lips found your neck again and he was pleased when he felt you nod against him, adorable little whines and mewls gurgled in your throat in desperation. “Arms up, sweet girl.” he hummed. 

You didn’t seem to completely trust him to not drop you as you nervously lifted your arms— but just barely. But drop you, he would absolutely not. He dug his hips into yours, forcing a gentle groan to lurch past his lips as his imprisoned cock pressed against your concealed core. The action made your arms rise up as you gasped softly and he wasted no time to tug your shirt over your head. 

He pulled back a moment to admire you– your neck, your collar bones, the bulge of flesh that made up your ever-so-perfect and supple breasts and how they bubbled over the white and lacy confining fabric of your bra. 

His fingers trailed up your abdomen, feeling the heat radiating off your skin and onto the pads of his fingers and wandered farther, finding their way to the small pink rose embellishment in the center of your breasts. He flicked it gently, chuckling to himself as even your under layers held a breath of innocence.

He couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering as he compared you to the little pink rose, so small, soft and innocent— it was a simple rendition of how he saw you.

His attention was drawn back to your fingers pulling needily at his own top, fingering the buttons of his dress shirt. “Want me to take this off, pretty?” He watched as your teeth bit down on the plush of your lip and you nodded. 

He’d never known his fingers to work so fast, grazing from one button to the next with incredible ease as he worked up to the very top button. He couldn’t control his excitement as you assisted him in pulling the top off his arms. He watched as your eyes roamed across him, taking in the rise and fall of his broad chest. One of your arms fell from the grip around his neck, tracing down his pecs. 

He held onto your hips, fingers gently gripping at your flesh as he resisted every urge to dig his fingers in, bruise you beneath his touch. You were soft, too pure for that– but he desired with every ounce of himself to taint you.

His lips found your neck again, and he teased his tongue along your skin, before placing open mouthed kisses further down your neck, finding finality against your collar bones. He could feel your heart thumping wildly in your chest against his chin. “Charlie…” you whimpered.

God– he loved the sound of his name off your lips. It made his groin ache, longing to be buried deep in your cunt, begging to hear how it would sound as you screamed it, trembling around him. 

Your hips shifted beneath his hands as more whimpers fell from your lips. You grinded your core against his hardness in a desperate attempt for friction, drawing a groan from his throat. “You want something, little girl?” 

You whined in embarrassment again, your head finding its way to the crook of his neck as your arms tangled around it once more, holding yourself steady. He chuckled again, diving his hands between your bodies and dipped his thick fingers beneath the waistband of that oh-so incredibly short skirt you wore this evening. Your breath hitched in your throat as his fingers teased your clothed core. “This what you want? You need attention here?” 

Your pathetic mewl only made his cock twitch again— christ, was he impatient. But you were an angel, he intended on treating you like such... luring you in gently before truly defiling you. 

Your hips bucked against his hand, and his lip curled into a smirk again. He slid his fingers over your clothed slit again. “I’m gonna need to hear your words, sweet girl.” The pet name drove you crazy– he knew so from the way the heartbeat between your legs pounded against his awaiting fingers.

“P-Please…” you pleaded pathetically. He hummed again, “Of course, pretty.” His fingers pulled your panties aside and he finally achieved one of his deepest desires– getting to touch you between those pretty little thighs. You whimpered against his skin, tightening your arms ever so slightly around his neck as his fingers barely even touched you. 

He slid his fingers between your slit, gathering your wetness on the length of his fingers, and he teasingly sucked his teeth. “For such a good girl you’re so wet…” he purred, pressing his cheek against your forehead. The heat of your face burned in the crook of his neck and you mewled. It was so easy to fluster you. 

He stroked his fingers through your core a few times, letting them caress your sensitive nub every now and again to earn more whines of desperation out of you before his fingertip teased your entrance. “Mmm… I’m gonna make you feel so good, little girl.” You whimpered pathetically once more and he couldn’t stop himself from smirking.

He took his longest finger and slowly pushed it inside of you, feeling the way your velvet walls sucked him deeper and clenched around him. You felt like a glimpse of heaven, and he longed to bury his dick inside of you instead, but you were incredibly tight only around one finger. 

He teasingly sucked his teeth again. “Now, how am I ever going to fit my cock inside your perfect little pussy, hmm? I might split you in half.” His words made you clench around his finger, and you dragged your hips again. He took the hint, withdrawing his finger before prodding it back inside of you, earning a soft and stuttered sigh out of you. 

He let his eyes flutter shut as he rested his head against yours, fucking into you with his middle finger until he thought you were ready, then he eased his ring finger inside you, curling his hand and dragging his fingers as he seemed to pet you from the inside. 

He hummed in content at the way you immediately took him in, listening to the soft whimpers that bubbled in your throat as his fingers stroked you. He cupped his hand slightly, catching your clit with his thumb which he wasted no time to rub small circles against. He smirked as your hands gripped tighter around his neck. 

Your hips gently rocked against his hand as he held you steady between him and the wall, making sure you weren’t going anywhere. Your walls seemed to suck him in deeper, desperate for his intrusive fingers. 

Just on his fingers you felt like a dream– warm, velvety, slick. He adored using his fingertips to explore every centimeter of your walls, poking and prodding every ounce of you he could find as he curled his fingers inside you.

His head pulled away from the top of your own and he cocked his head to bury his lips against your neck, needing to taste you again as you softly mewled at how his hands worked inside and against you. 

His tongue lapped at your skin before he gently sucked on your flesh, his teeth catching before he bit down earning a shocked gasp from you. He couldn’t help but chuckle. He felt like he was biting down into the soft and delicate flesh of a peach. He withdrew himself before grazing his teeth along another spot on your neck, biting down once again. He was gentle, like he made himself promise to be… but every soft gasp you made made him want to bite harder and harder. 

Every time he nibbled on your neck you clenched around his fingers and he couldn’t stop himself from working them faster— your sweet, kittenish sounds growing more incessant. 

When your breath hitched in your throat and you let out a particularly strained whine, his fingers seemed to act on their own accord, picking up more pace inside of you. “You gonna cum on my fingers, pretty girl?” 

You held tighter around his neck, burying your face deeper into his skin as you nodded feebly, more strained whines escaping from your throat. His thumb drew tighter, more meticulous circles around your clit. “Look at me, sweet girl…” 

This time your whine was in defiance, not wanting to draw your head away from the crook of his neck. “Don’t make me ask you again.” he warned. 

When you withdrew from his neck, he swore he’d died and was facing the great beyond. Your brows were knit perfectly in pleasure, your eyes barely open; drunk on the bliss he was providing you. Your lips were parted, soft pants leaking from between them as your chin trembled slightly. “Fuck... you’re gorgeous.” he groaned looking you over. Your expression was motivation enough for him to push you over the edge, and it didn’t take long with the calculated movements of his fingers for you to crumble in his hands. 

Your lips fell into a perfect little ‘o’ as your eyes rolled back before your lashes fluttered shut. Your walls constricted and stroked his fingers as your cunt flooded with warmth. He quickly buried his lips against yours, swallowing down the cries of your rapture to keep you quiet. As much as he wanted nothing more than to hear that sweet melodious pitch of your moans, he knew better than to risk being overheard. 

He drew a few more gentle circles over your clit as he worked you through your release before your eyes opened again and found their way to his. A sloppy smile tugged gently at the corner of your lips and he withdrew his hand.

“Open that pretty mouth.” he ordered, and you obeyed instantly. He plunged his thick, slick coated fingers against your tongue. “Suck.” 

You mewled pathetically as you followed instructions. He groaned as your tongue slid between his fingers, lapping up every ounce of your release. Your cheeks dented divinely as you sucked on his digits. 

He pulled his fingers from your mouth with a pop and quickly brought them to his own mouth, tasting your sweetness and saliva on his own tongue. He hummed against his fingers, the sensation making his cock twitch again and he couldn’t deprave himself any longer of the need to slide himself inside you. 

“Think you can take me now, sweet girl?” he purred, dragging his thumb along your bottom lip. When you nodded he sucked his teeth again, “Use your words.” 

You whined pathetically before you spoke, “P-Please, Charlie.” His lips pulled into a smirk at your obedience. “Such a good girl you are.” 

His hands found your waist as he pulled you away from the wall, your legs clinging to his hips to steady yourself as he carried you as silently as he could down the hall and into the bedroom. He used his shoulder to shut the door, only continuing to the bed when it clicked against the frame. 

He laid you on the bed gently as if too much pressure would cause you to shatter. He watched as your back arched upward to meet his hands. They curled into the waistband of your skirt, tugging it down. 

His boyish excitement bubbled in his chest at the sight of your delightfully matching set of underwear. He couldn’t help himself from wondering if you always wore matching underwear or, if more self-indulgently, you knew by a greater power that he wouldn’t be able to help himself this evening and you wore them just for him. 

You were a divine sight as his eyes roamed over you. The way your thighs met at the top, the smooth skin of your stomach rising and falling as you breathed with anticipation. You were glorious, and you were all for him.

As his hands began to work at the clasps of his slacks your hands snaked under your back to unclasp your bra. He quickly grabbed at your wrist. “Let me.” he pleaded. He needed to be the one to strip you of your clothing. With a nod of verification he withdrew his hand and kicked off his shoes before he stepped out of his pants, pushing them with little care out of the way. 

He leaned over your perfect body, starting with an open mouthed kiss just above your pelvis before trailing them upward until he reached the underwire of your bra. His hands encircled around your frame, pushing between your skin and the sheets on the mattress to find the clasp against your back.

When his fingers made contact he fought against his haste to rip it off of you, instead delicately and teasingly unhooking one clasp, then the next, until the only support the bra had on your body was by the straps on your shoulders.

He pulled away from you, writhing his hands away from your back and to your shoulders as he dragged the straps down your arms, watching as your nipples immediately pebbled in the open air of his room. 

He oddly missed the sight of the little rose between your breasts, but the supple flesh of your chest made up for its departure. His hands traced down your sides before roaming up toward your breasts, pawing at them as he placed kisses between them– hearing your sweet little hums of pleasure returning as he flicked his thumb over your bud.

He looked up at you from between your breasts, as your hands tangled gently into his hair, combing it out of the way of his eyes. “You’re perfect.” he praised as he pulled his lips away from you. 

He stood to his full height, trailing his hands down your sides until his fingers hooked in the waistband of your panties. This was it– this was the vision he was waiting for. Your body completely bare for him, every ounce of your flesh ready to be swallowed down by his eyes. 

His breath hitched in his throat as he sucked down his excitement. First he saw your hips and the beginning of your pelvis, then he dragged the fabric further, finally bearing witness to your perfect little mound. 

He dragged your panties all the way down your smooth legs before discarding them to the floor. He took hold of your knees and pushed them backward so you could display yourself for him.

Your whines of embarrassment as he gazed upon your idyllic cunt didn’t deter him in the slightest. He was swallowing up the vision of you– legs spread, completely stripped down for him. 

He couldn’t stop the sigh that escaped past his lips. You were unparalleled. And right now, you were his. His cock twitched at the sight, and he palmed himself through his boxers, keeping one hand to caress up and down the side of your thigh. 

As soon as his hand met himself he groaned softly, the excitement coursing through his veins again that momentarily he’d be buried deep inside your sweet cunt. Your awaiting eyes, the slightly nervous expression on your face made you seem ethereal– like you were just a dream and he had to resist the urge to pinch himself to verify that you were in fact very real. 

He couldn’t take the wait any longer, it felt like it was eating him alive the longer he stared at the glistening evidence of your prior release still slick on your pussy. He tugged down his boxers with haste, kicking them to join his slacks off to the side. Your breath hitched as you caught sight of his size, making his eyes meet yours. 

A smirk pulled on his lips, “I know you can take it, sweet girl.” he cooed, taking himself in his hand and giving him a few strokes. He smeared the precum across his length, circling his hand around his girth. His tip was angry, desperate to be buried deep inside you, and his veins pulsed in agreement. In just a moment he’d be able to feel his cock against your velveteen walls. 

He kneeled on the edge bed, running his tip through your folds, making you whimper again. He shushed you gently, “Don’t worry, pretty. I’m gonna make you feel so good.” 

He coated himself with your slick as he aligned himself with your entrance. He slowly, using all the restraint he had to not just completely sheathe himself inside you, pushed into you. Your cunt immediately clenched, tightening around what little he’d put in.

He groaned, working more of himself inside you as you strained out moans, struggling against his size. 

The feeling was beyond what he thought he was prepared for. You were beyond perfect. His fingers did little to prepare him for this. Your cunt squeezed against him while simultaneously trying to draw him in, plush walls fluttering around his length. 

He couldn’t stop himself, he pushed all the way into you as far as his cock would go, letting out a guttural groan as he bottomed out. “Fuck- you take me so good… you feel incredible.” he praised. You were reduced to only whines and whimpers as you fought to adjust to him, but he didn’t care. 

His fingers drifted from your thighs to your tummy, his eyes widening in admiration as he caressed and admired the bulge in your belly where his dick resided from inside.

Christ, he wanted to fuck you dumb, fuck you so hard that you’d forget your own name, only babbling cock-drunken mumbles. 

He pulled out of you, no longer interested if you were adjusted or not before he plunged back inside of you, his head lurching forward as his eyes shut at the feeling. You clearly weren’t fully adjusted yet from your feeble cry, but not to worry, you’d be there soon enough. 

He dragged his hips back, his hands finding their way to your hips again as he pulled you down onto him– another cry pouring from your lips. He indulged himself with the unrealistic idea that a pretty little thing like you had never been touched before, that you were all encompassingly his. 

He hissed through his teeth, his own brows knitting over the idea. “F-Fuck…” he groaned. He found a rhythm, fucking into you as gently as he could but his need was quickly winning him over as he increased the pace of his hips. 

The way you whimpered his name drove him wild. Your chest rose and fell heavily, your fingers clutching tightly at his bedsheets. 

He leaned over you, pressing his lips to your neck again as he gently nibbled and sucked at the skin, your hands wrapping under his arms stabilized by your head– fingernails scratching down his back as he bucked his hips into you. His cock slid between your plush walls, he hissed curses as he sank down into you, pressing them against the skin of your throat. 

“Fuck-” he purred your name, “You’re amazing.” he praised, making you whimper again. 

You pressed your hips to his with every withdrawal, as if you couldn’t stand the idea of him pulling out of you, as if you couldn’t wait for him to fill you again. 

He bit down onto your neck, a little harsher than he’d admittedly meant to, making you mewl out. He withdrew from your body and grabbed tightly onto your thighs, dragging you toward him as he moved to stand at the edge of the bed. He pulled your legs to either side of his shoulders, desperate to breach as much of you as he could– and he was instantly gratified when his cockhead prodded against the silky, firm makings of your cervix. A groan of your name pulled from his throat as he sheathed himself against it.

Every pound of his hips to yours, every ram against your insides, made you cry out. He looked at the angelic expression of your pleasure before he leaned forward and pressed his hand over your mouth. As desperate as he was for you, he was even more so to not wake Henry– he wanted this moment to last forever, uninterrupted by anyone or anything. 

With your noises muffled by his strong palm his movements grew fervid, his teeth gritting together to stifle his own sounds of pleasure. Your walls stroked him effortlessly, it drove him wild– borderline animalistic. 

Your hands wrapped and gripped around his wrist as he looked over you, your brows knit together, your eyes pinched tightly shut as he fucked into you, each harsh thrust making your tits bounce as skin slapped against skin. 

It was filthy, you were such an innocent and delicate thing, yet you let him fill you up with his cock like a whore. 

That familiar clench he felt around his fingers now overwhelmed his length. His hand clutched tighter over your mouth as your whimpers grew incessant. You were unraveling right around him. 

“Gonna-cum-on-my-cock-like-a-good-girl?” he emphasized his words with thrusts of his hips making you cry out against his palm. Your walls continued to clench, fluttering around him as he fucked into you. 

Hitting again and again against the firm, slick surface of your cervix, the noises he worked so hard on muffling– he was nearing bliss himself. You nodded against his hand, muttering stuttered pleas against the skin of his palm.

“Then cum, sweet girl.” His hips slammed against yours again and as if he’d said the magic-fucking-word, your cunt fluttered causing his tip to twitch as your walls stroked him, your second release unraveling. 

His hand dug harsher against your mouth as he watched you reach your peak– your eyes rolled before your lashes fluttered, pinching tightly shut. You cried out curses against his hand as you came on his dick.

He groaned as you milked his cock. White hot euphoria blurred his eyes as he leaned his head back, hips stuttering only for a moment before he shot ropes of cum deep inside your cunt.

You whimpered against his palm, your walls fluttering around him as he twitched, still thrusting into you but at a much slower fervency now. He opened his eyes and huffed harshly, looking down into your fucked out expression as he withdrew his hand. 

He shoved your legs off his shoulders, closing in the distance between yours and his body as he crashed his lips against yours hungrily, clashing teeth against lips in the haste. 

You moaned into his mouth and he happily swallowed them down, panting into your own, still dragging his hips through the end of his orgasm.

You were fucking perfect. He couldn’t say it enough, you were a gift from the heavens above; an angel. He often fantasized about the idea of fucking you– but he found his fantasies were not nearly as incredible as the genuine thing. 

Fucks sake– he would happily stay buried in your cunt til the end of time. He pulled away from your lips, leaving you to whine in the loss of contact as he stood up to his full height and took himself in his hand, withdrawing from you. 

As he unsheathed himself he watched as the combination of your releases slid from your hole… he couldn’t have that. He needed it to stay deep inside of you. Needed a part of him to remain in your cunt as a reminder of what he did to you, how he soiled your sweet air of innocence. 

He dragged his tip along your folds, gathering up as much of it as he could before he gently shoved his cock back inside of you, making you whimper pathetically in overstimulation. He buried himself up inside you, bucking his hips gently as you tightened around him, making him hiss between his teeth. 

You whimpered his name and he huffed softly, “Okay, sweet girl.” he cooed, curling over you again, and writhed a hand through your hair consolingly as he unsheathed from your sweet cunt. 

Fucked out, skin tainted stickily with sweat, eyes heavy and tired… you were still nothing less than perfect to him– perhaps in this state even more so. 

He was filled to the brim with desire for you, but he couldn’t stop himself from pressing a soft and gentle kiss to your lips. One of love rather than lust. He adored the way you hummed against his lips. His hands trailed gently up and down your sides. 

He pulled away from your lips, looking down over your face as he gently caressed your cheek with the back of his knuckles. Perfect, he told himself again.

He helped you redress, as you were relentlessly unsteady on your own legs, but he didn’t mind in the slightest. He savored the way your fingers clutched his shoulders for stabilization as he helped you step into your underwear. He relished the way your head lolled softly against his chest as he pulled on your bra, clasping it in the back. 

It was admittedly a walk of shame back to the living room for your shirt, but he’d do it a million times over just for you, for the way you depended on him for his assistance.

The two of you stood for a moment, neither one of you knowing exactly what to say as your eyes roamed each other. You were both, however, in a silent agreement that nobody could ever know what had happened… though Charlie selfishly hoped it would happen again. 

“Let me help you.” he murmured, rushing to help you gather your bag, assisting you to pull it over your shoulder before you spun to look at him again. 

He couldn’t help but smile as the fucked out expression still tainted your features. “Well… thank you for the book.” you mumbled softly. 

After all that, he’d admittedly forgotten all about the book. His lips parted momentarily before they reconnected into a smile, and he softly shook his head. “I know it’s in good hands.” 

He watched as your lips curled up into a gentle and innocent smile. “You’ll call me next time you need a sitter, right?” He noted your eyes nervously looking between his own, and he couldn’t help but chuckle. He wrapped his arm around your waist, drawing you closer, “You don’t think I’m getting rid of you any time soon, do you? Quite the opposite actually, sweet girl.” 

You hummed softly as he placed a kiss on your forehead, making his heart beat a little harder in his chest. 

He was rather saddened to watch you pull away from him, making your way to the front door– he wanted nothing more than to scoop you up in his arms and carry you to his bed to rest your tired body, but he knew he couldn’t do that. 

So, he swallowed down his disappointment and unlocked the door for you, pulling it open.

You began to walk out, and he let himself indulge in the gentle sway of your hips as you walked past him, before you stopped, one hand on the frame of the door as you turned to face him.

He watched as your adorable wide eyes stared back into his. “Good night, Charlie.” 

He beamed, “Good night,” he purred your name. You lingered a moment longer, and he resisted the urge to raise a questioning brow, until your hand met his chest and your lips met his for one last kiss– you pulled away after a moment, and with an air of excitement you quickly turned on your heel and made your way out the door. 

He watched you glance back at him with that girlishly playful smile and he couldn’t help but chuckle. When you were out of sight he shut the door behind you, letting himself collapse against it as he writhed a hand through his hair, selfishly recalling tonight’s memories which were still, and would remain fresh in his mind for quite a while… surely until he saw you again, which he quickly made mental note to need you to watch Henry again soon.

You were a dangerous game, but Charlie wanted nothing more than to play.

#adcu #adcu smut #charlie barber x reader #charlie barber x you #charlie barber smut #adcu x reader #adam driver #smut #whorecake fics

[project-sekai-facts]

Is it me or are the new outfits simpler? Like old ones had a lot of tiny useless details all around, the new ones look "cleaner" in comparison. It's not bad I kinda like it but it definitely feels weird

Before we start I just wanna say that I kinda critically analysed the costume designs instead of you know. just talking about the details. cool here we go

Yeah aside from VBS they all feel so. Plain, I guess? MMJ’s outfits probably the worst instance, imo they felt more same-y than before and I get they’re an idol unit so they were gonna be uniform but there’s something off. It’s the blue, I get that it’s probably a nod to the blue penlights, but using green or their respective image colors would’ve been better I think. You can barely even see Haruka or Shizuku's image colors on the skirts. Honestly I don’t think the accessories are that bad, they’re pretty cute and fit the group, though the costume being so plain outside of them just makes it look like there should be more. the thing is the outfits aren't the same, they have different skirts and shirts like the original it's just the fact that they all have the same color scheme and similar-enough accessories that it makes the differences less noticable. their image colors should've been the primary or secondary color not the tertiary color.

Leo/need I can get being more uniform, it goes with their whole thing, and I liked how there’s still a lot of details to differentiate them and give them personality. Honestly their original color scheme was pretty basic but making their image colors the secondary colors instead of of the primary colors of their outfit? it just wasn't it. honestly it wouldn't be too bad if the grey wasn't such an ugly color it looks really bad. if they'd gone with black or a much darker grey for the blazers it would've looked so much better and made the accents stand out more. also, the lack of accessories... i get they're more "professional and mature" but their outfits are quite boring, especially next to Miku's. If all of them had a big star armband like Honami or even had a bigger star buckle anywhere (like on a belt) it would look a bit nicer.

WxS was an improvement from Leo/need maybe? The outfits are definitely the most detailed so far, and they had a lot of personality. I like that they kept the original theme of character types (Rui being a villain, Nene being a fairy, etc), and it's not hard to tell what role each of them are meant to be (except emu but it wasn't obvious what hers was in the first place). I think Tsukasa's fits his personality quite well; he plays hero roles so he has a prince sort of outfit, he's the leader so he's got the sash, and he usually dresses very smart. it's very plain though, definitely could've done with brighter colors on the accessories, and maybe keeping the belt charm. also the jacket and trousers being the same color without much to separate them and balance it out doesn't look great. emu and nene's are both better, the color palettes are really nice and their outfits aren't plain holy shit. Emu's fits her personality really well - just by looking you can tell she's a fun and positive person. Rui's is probably the one i'd say is best out of the bunch. I know we can't see the front but the asymmetry and use of black in the color palette makes it stand out a lot and really adds something that the others were lacking. it's a very good villain outfit as well.

N25's were simple, but managed to actually pull it off. they didn't feel really plain compared to some of the other units despite actually being pretty plain. their outfits were always dark, and that hasn't changed, but making the colors more murky adds an extra layer to it. the addition of the flower patterns really adds something to take away the plainess of the original outfits, as well as adding relevant symbolism. Mafuyu's especially stands out being the lightest color and being the most ragged. It tells you she's different, she appears bright and perfect at first, but when you look further down, she's damaged. The image colors could've done with being a bit brighter maybe but other than that these are pretty good.

VBS outfits are actually really good. There I said it. They're able to feel cohesive as a group while still managing to reflect the individuality of each members and not be plain. The outfits fit their personal styles really well, Kohane's more girly, An's more cool and mature, Akito's sporty and active and Toya's more smart but still has the street look. Despite their outfits looking totally different, you can tell they're a unit because of the reddish-pink accents on all their outfits and also using white as a unifying color. i know i complained about the white making the other outfits plain but it's far more balanced out here and isn't as in-your-face. it isn't like MMJ and WxS that have white as their main outfit color. With VBS it's just one white item of clothing: Kohane's sweater, An's cargos, Akito's hoodie and Toya's tshirt. it's incorporated in a very natural way and isn't overly prominent. their image colors and other colors are used just as much in the outfits to balance it out. they have the best balance undoubtedly. even the accessories, they aren't big and there's not a whole lot of them, but the outfits already have a lot going on so they don't need to be complex, they're just there to add something extra.

There’s too much white.

#asks #mod talks #sorry

[nolesserhuman]

"mahou shoujo // trick or treat" Ranpo + fem reader ~2.9k words warnings: 18+ content, minors dni notes: does this count as subby Ranpo? ao3.

“Is Halloween as big a deal here as it is back home?”

Ranpo tilts his head at your question, soft hair brushing his face as he meticulously arranges his Skittles by color. “Yeah, you could say that,” he hums without looking up; he is, as usual, more interested in his candy than a conversation. A smile twitches across his mouth. “Obviously it’s a big deal to me,” he says, stating something that you could’ve guessed on your own. Then he regathers his Skittles back into a rainbow and tosses them all into his mouth.

Your face lights up at that. When you lean back in your desk chair, it rolls across the office’s hardwood floors, wheeling you over to Ranpo’s side at his lone island. “We should do a couples costume!” The closer you get, the further he slouches over his remaining pile of Skittles, a vain attempt to shield them from your sticky fingers. You do manage to snatch at least one before he can hide them.

“Hey!” He sticks his tongue out at you and bats your hand away before you can snatch any more. “Couple’s costumes are stupid,” he grumbles; you can’t tell if he actually means that, or if he’s just trying to get back at you for the stolen Skittle. “—besides, I’ve already got a costume planned.” Resting his chin in the palm of his hand, a smirk lazily floats across his face, a familiar tint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. “I’m sure you’ll love it when I show you.”

It’s not uncommon for Ranpo to play games like this; he loves knowing things you don’t, occasionally treating your relationship like a chess game where one unlucky player— often you— doesn’t actually know the rules. All day at work, no matter how much you’d whine or plead or bat your eyes, Ranpo refused to budge, seeming proud of his little secret.

Until you got home.

Rolling a hard candy between his teeth, Ranpo drags you into his bedroom, nudging you to perch yourself on the edge of his mattress. Even on the walk to his apartment he hadn’t given up any information— but now, he’s almost bouncing on his toes the closer he gets to revealing something as simple as a Halloween costume. You can’t help being suspicious when he’s like this. With an order of “Stay here, I’ll be right back,” he disappears into his bathroom and shuts the door.

The lock audibly clicks into place. You’re left with nothing but your thoughts and the suspicious rustle of fabric that drifts through the wood.

Of course your mind wanders; he seems more excited about this than you are, and you can’t help but wonder what kind of outfit would have Ranpo Edogawa, of all people, so giddy. In the entire time you’ve known him, he’s never shown even a passing interest in fashion— that’s the entire reason he’s so enamored with his damned cape, after all. 

Your thoughts are interrupted by the door swinging back open. Ranpo steps out into his bedroom, his eyes studying your face as you study his ‘costume.’

“—oh.”

At your timid reaction, Ranpo’s pretty face curls into a Cheshire-cat grin.

Shoulders bared. A cleavage window for the subtle curve of his flat tits. The skirt, already short enough, made even shorter by the layers of fluffy petticoats underneath. Garter belts on both thighs, held closed by moon-shaped charms, large and reflective enough to betray a glimpse of the lacy fabric just barely hidden beneath his tiny skirt. Thigh-high stockings that dig into the plush of his thighs, such a bright, innocent shade of white that they contrast with the sheer smug on his face. A fucking magical girl outfit.

“Seems like y’like it,” he purrs. Your voice escapes you— as Ranpo makes his way towards your lap, he sways his hips, the fabric of the skirt twirling around his pale thighs like his body is casting a very successful spell. His delicate hands bunch in the petticoats to hike up the skirt as he swings his way into your lap, arms eventually coming to rest around your shoulders to keep himself upright. “—you do like it, right?” He bats his long lashes at you— Ranpo is already well aware of the answer, but he wants to hear you say it. Always gives him a thrill when you confirm his suspicions.

“Looks good on you,” you mumble, eyes continuing to rake up and down his body on display, perched in your lap. Your hands land firmly on his hips, only to dip lower and lower, gently squeezing the soft curves of his ass through the layers of ruffles.

You’re hesitating. Ranpo huffs.

“I didn’t put this on for you t’hold me like a doll, y’know,” he pouts at you, arching his back to press himself further into your touch.

You snicker at his clear impatience and press a quick kiss to his mouth as your hands finally delve underneath the hem of his skirt. Your movements are slow, dragging your nails up his thighs— it makes his skin tingle through the thin fabric of his stockings, and he can’t fight the electric shudder that pulses through him. Your fingers continue their exploration, still moving even lower; the digits slip under the soft silk of his garters and tug them up just a bit before you let go. The elastic snaps back into place, and he squeals at the brief sting. He opens his mouth to tell you off, but doesn’t get the chance— you silence him with another kiss and slip your tongue into his mouth. Ranpo groans, but when your nails graze the thin lace that separates the two of you, you gasp, and it’s his turn to grin against your mouth; all at once you shove his skirt further up his hips to get a proper eyeful.

“Lace?” Your voice is breathy. The panties are already thin enough, but with his precum beginning to drip through and soak the fabric, they’re practically see-through. Ranpo grins and waggles his eyebrows at you until you giggle.

“If you don’t ask any questions, I’ll get you a matching set.” Ranpo lifts his hips enough for you to drag the lacy panties down his thighs, finally freeing his half-hard cock. A contented sigh drifts from his throat as you continue to feel him up, although his mood quickly begins to shift, even as your hands explore, squeeze his thighs or tug his skirt— you’re not touching him enough. 

As if you’d heard his impatient thoughts— or at least, noticed the way his swollen cock was tipped with a painful shade of red— your hand closes around his shaft, and Ranpo moans as you give him a few experimental strokes. You’re just teasing him at this point; your grip on his cock is loose, and when he glares at you, you take the hint. You brush your thumb over his slit as you pump his cock, smearing precum down his shaft and making him shiver.

“Just— ah—” Ranpo lets out a shaky breath as he bucks his hips up into your hand. “Just like that—”

“Awful demanding of you,” your free hand digs into the fullness of his thigh, sharp nails leaving scarlet crescent-moons across his milky skin. Your grip on him begins to loosen up, as if to scold him for mouthing off already.

Ranpo huffs again. One eye slides open, glaring defiantly at you with that gorgeous shade of green, as he brings his own hand to clutch at your wrist and keep you from pulling away. His firm grasp holds your hand in place as his thrusts grow erratic. “Maybe,” snark on his sharp silver tongue, “if you’d give me what I need—”

Ah, a challenge.

Ranpo’s voice cracks before he can finish his insult. His eyelids flutter and he groans softly, his head falling forward, chin to his chest. “‘m gonna—” A full-body shudder races up his spine, and Ranpo is whining as he cums, still sloppily thrusting into your warm hand.

“You’re so pretty,” you hum, pressing open-mouthed kisses up his neck. It doesn’t matter that he didn’t last long; you got a show, and that’s the important part. Ranpo squirms in your lap and grumbles as you continue to gently pump his cock and smear his cum up his shaft.

Ranpo sighs as his eyes flutter back open. The heat that blossoms across his face matches the heat in his gaze. “C’mon,” he says; even as his cock softens in your grasp, he bucks his hips again, his own wandering hands moving to squeeze and grope you through your own clothes. “I know that can’t be the only thing you wanted t’do to me in this outfit.”

“You talk too much.” Your hand leaves his cock, and he groans at the loss as you gather thick drops of his cum on your fingertips. “Open that pretty mouth again, Ranpo.”

It’s in Ranpo’s nature to be defiant. He can see right through your intentions with his crystalline eyes. He scowls, instinctively opening his mouth to tell you no, he doesn’t follow orders— but you know him too well. That’s exactly what you were expecting. You press your fingers into his mouth, against his tongue, and a soft whimper immediately leaves his throat. Ranpo’s eyes slip closed again, the tension visibly leaving his body as he swirls his tongue around the digits, lapping at the pads of your fingers as you press down again.

It’s kinda pathetic, actually.

You nudge against the very back of his tongue and Ranpo gags, throat constricting around your fingers as he instinctively bites down. Can’t really blame him for that one, but you’ll remember it.

Despite being a bit bigger than you, Ranpo is lightweight. Withdrawing your fingers from his mouth— and ignoring his pathetic little whines at the loss— you dip your hands under his plush thighs and tip him backwards into bed.

“I think these might be my favorite,” you sigh, settling yourself between his legs. You press a feather-light kiss to the soft fabric of his stockings, your eyes trained on his face for his reaction. His gaze follows your every movement, watching you press those tantalizing kisses up his thigh, his cock twitching back to life each time you dig your teeth in.

Ranpo’s eyes widen and his face flushes an even deeper shade of red; he’s not sure if he’s embarrassed by your position, or if he’s circling around to being embarrassed he gets flustered that easily. Then he huffs, face twisting in impatience instead. “If you’re between my thighs,” he grumbles, “you’re not on my dick. Where you’re s’pose to be.”

“Oh, is that what you’re wanting, Ranpo?” Your tongue lathes against his thigh to soothe the sting of your teeth— to watch him squirm. “For someone so demanding, you’re not very good at telling me what you want.”

Ranpo groans loudly, an irritated sound that usually pushes you to do what he wants. The greatest detective in the world does not beg. He doesn’t. He doesn’t. He does.

“—fuck me already,” he bites out. He tilts his head back and slams his eyes shut; he doesn’t have to see your face to know that you’re grinning down smugly at him, and his pride can’t handle that. “Don’t wanna wait tonight. Wanna feel you.”

You just hum, resting against his thigh, teasing him by running your nails against his stockings but refusing to acknowledge his desires. He knows exactly what you’re waiting for.

“—please.” It’s barely a breath out of his mouth. He can feel himself wilting; the first time is always the hardest. After that it becomes natural. “Please,” he whines again, “I just wanna be inside you— can’t stand it, please—”

Even if he is just putting on a show, he always knows exactly what you wanna hear.

“And how hard was that, Ranpo?” You shift until you’re hovering above him, taking as little time as possible to drag your pants off, only shoving your panties to the side enough to tease his swollen cock against your slit.

“Stop teasing,” he demands, pointedly bucking his hips in a vain attempt to feel you. His tip catches on your hole, but you click your tongue and pull back. An exasperated noise leaves his throat before dying into another feeble whine. “Please.”

You hum and lean forward to press a kiss to his chapped lips before granting him any mercy— pumping his slick shaft once, twice, before finally lining him up with your entrance and sinking down on his cock.

Ranpo keens. His eyes roll to the back of his skull, hands scrambling from the bedsheets to your hips, frantic to pull you as close as possible now that he finally gets to feel you. You let out your own shaky sigh, hands splayed across the bright fabric that covers his chest, curling into the expensive satin and feeling it stretch in your grasp. Heat blossoms across Ranpo’s face and spills all the way down his neck. His eyes slide open, and his glassy gaze has warmth pooling in the pit of your stomach.

You roll your hips flush against his and let out an airy moan. He fills you perfectly, as always.

“I changed my mind,” you mumble, “this is my favorite. Feels like you were built for me.”

Ranpo’s eyes flutter shut again, long lashes dusting against his pretty face as his head lolls back into the pillows. Weight braced against his chest, you slowly lift yourself onto your knees before sinking back down. The sensation of his cock filling you pushes all the air out of your lungs. He groans happily as your gummy walls envelop him, his grip tight on your hips and thighs as he feels himself drowning in your warmth. He’s still sensitive— and with the way you’re already clenching around him, he’s not sure he’ll last.

You’re already positively dripping, and he’s coated in the filthy combination of your wetness and his own cum, each movement up and down his shaft filling the room with slick noises that have his face burning. Ranpo’s cock twitches against your walls and he whimpers.

Giggling at how easy it is to reduce him to such pathetic noises, you lean forward and press yourself chest-to-chest with him, resting your forehead flush against his. The change in position had just been so you could peer into his heart-filled eyes as you split yourself open on his dick— but the change in angle also has his cock hitting deeper, nudging at a sensitive spot inside you, forcing a moan out of your throat. You can feel every inch dragging against your walls.

“Feels so— ah— so good, Ranpo—” your voice shakes as hard as your thighs burn, “y’always fill me so well— and you’re so pretty like this too—”

Even simple praise has Ranpo’s eyes rolling back into his head. He takes a deep, shuddering breath, his hips jolting upwards to meet your own thrusts. His arms encircle your waist, intent on holding you still as he sets his own pace now, sloppily thrusting up into your eager cunt. His pretty face is tense with the effort it takes to stave off his impending orgasm. He’s already gotten what he wanted tonight— it’s your turn. He can at least do that much.

“Wanna feel you cum around me,” he breathes out. Ranpo finds himself nuzzling into your neck, nipping and kissing his way across your jaw. When his teeth graze against your pulse, you shudder, and the way your walls squeeze him at that is heavenly. He’ll never get enough; one hand leaves the plush of your hips so he can brush his thumb over your clit, and the resulting mewl paints a lazy smirk across his face. His eyelids drop closed again for a moment as he loses himself in you.

His thrusts are sloppy, and he draws circles against your clit in time with his pace. His other hand squeezes your hips before dipping down to grab a handful of your ass, pulling you down on his shaft at a new angle that presses him deeper than ever. His eyes flicker back open— he’s gazing up at you with sheer adoration in those bright green pools, and the pure love in his eyes has you whimpering, your entire body tense as you finally come. Your warm cunt clenches around Ranpo and he quickly follows; head dropped back against the pillows, his eyes roll as he cums, his deceptively delicate hands holding you firm on his cock as he pumps you full.

You slouch limply against Ranpo’s warm chest. Even with him still sheathed deeply in you, you can already feel his cum starting to drip out and down your thighs, but cleanup is a problem for future you. The racing of his heartbeat against your ear serves to lull you into relaxation. One of his hands comes up to prod at your face, poking your cheek and pulling your hair until he gets you to tiredly look up; as soon as you lift that pretty face of yours, he surges forward and slams his mouth into yours, all tongue and teeth, not ready to let go of you yet. His other hand finds yours, still curled tightly in the fabric of his costume; something seems to cross his mind, and he nudges you upright so he can prop himself up on his elbows.

A frown crosses his swollen lips as he catches sight of the blue satin; it has been stretched out, and the skirt is sopping with the combination of your slick and his cum. “Damn,” he sighs, “I was hopin’ I could save this thing enough for trick-or-treating.”

I started this on his birthday and wanted to have it up by Halloween, and I'm glad I finished it just in time!! thank you for reading, let me know what you think!!

#bsd #ranpo edogawa #x reader #reader insert #smut #bsd smut #ranpo smut #fem reader #+mine

[tommys-little-writing-corner]

One Small Shadow: Chapter I

》 The youngest of Sindel's daughters, (Y/N) was only born after the passing of King Jerrod. Growing up shadowed by her family and their magics, the Third Princess does what she can do best. She stands by and waits... 》 Chapter I: Waiting... 》 General Notes: Fem!Reader, Complicated Family Relationships, Canon Divergence, Angst Train, No Beta We Ball Like Kobe, No Romance, Y/N is described to be feminine with certain features, Bounces between Y/N's POV and third person 》 Chapter Notes: The first few chapters of One Small Shadow take place before the start of the plot of Mortal Kombat 1. 》 Word Count: 600+ ▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂▂

(Y/N)'s P.O.V.

I hate looking at this damn mural.

It sits in the main hall where the thrones lay, always alight with candles. Sometimes by the bright flame of the sun or by the pale flame of the moon. It's a mural portrait of my mother, Empress Sandel, and my late father, Emperor Jerrod.

I never knew Jerrod, not in the way my Mother and sisters knew him. My mother was expecting me when he was killed. Nobody spared me any details, only that it was a great tragedy over a thousand years ago. Now his soul resides in the forest, along with all other members of royalty and more.

Many say I do hold some resemblance in him, a trait I share with my sisters. We have his dark eyes-- the way they seem to sparkle with a plan, with a mind game to taunt others. setting down stones to be stepped on. However, it would be my sisters who would have his smile, his dark hair and everything.

I would be the one, the youngest of three of about roughly a thousand years old in age, who would have my mother's white hair. Pale like marble stone, like the colorless stars in the sky. Unlike my family who kept their hair long, I kept mine short, barely touching the corner of my jaw below my ear. It was better to maintain hair that way, easier to hide it whenever I wanted life out of the palace. Another talk for later.

I hate how everyone around me doesn't understand how I feel every time I look at the painted mural.

"You should be mourning-- you have no father, as does your sisters do. As your mother doesn't have her husband anymore."

How was I to mourn someone I never knew?

I only knew his name, the painted faces that decorated this wall along all other walls. The stories of praise and glory from the Umgadi who remember him, who loved him well as does everyone else inside and outside the palace. However, only because I was born three months after his death, I would never know the man personally as did everyone else who once knew him.

Maybe a trip to the Living Forest, where his soul resides, I would get to know him. Maybe he would be willing to talk, to tell me tales of his life before death. No... I would not be able to go beyond the walls of Sun Do. The ones made by my ancestors many lifetimes ago. Mother doesn't like me wondering around, not without armed guards, without Umgadi, or even the likes of Reiko. Since losing Jerrod, she became paranoid about an unfortunate fate falling onto me as well.

Certainly, she truly thought things well. Despite magic running in my veins, in my family blood, I could conjure no magic. To her, I seemed defenseless without a means to defend myself. It was why she insisted me having to be monitored and protected at all times if it could be helped.

I hate looking at this damn mural.

"Princess, you're needed at the entrance. To meet with the Empress and your sisters."

The Umgadi guard reminded me, making me snap out of my reoccurring thoughts about the mural in front of me. My lips curled into a frown as I looked over my outfit one last time. Dark purple ceremonial robes that almost matched colors with red wine, shades darker than the purple Mother wore. A layered skirt-piece that touched my ankles over black tights, black longlseeve under a dark purple top. My hands and arms decorated with golden jewelry with pretty gems-- fitting for a royal princess, but not as flashy as my older sisters. Subtle, quiet, just like me.

"Right..." I responded with a flat tone, turning my head towards her and nodding. "... Let's get going."

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TO THE KONTINUED...

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat 1 fanfiction #Fem!Reader #One Small Shadow #platonic reader #no romance #tommy's post #tommy’s writing

[azulera]

We Go Together

Pairing: Jadon Sancho x Black Reader

Summary: Jadon wants everyone to know he’s yours.

Notes: don’t know where this one came from really bt i literally gave myself b*tterflies while writing it … it was so fun and i think its so so cute. also helloo to the JS25 girlies how are you :) hope u enjoy :)

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“This is so random, but, I can’t lie. I hate braids. Like, on girls.”

Jadon looked at Reiss from the side of his eye, barely lifting his head from the back of the couch. Maybe they’d been vegetating on the chocolate-colored sectional too long, the blue light exposure from watching TikTok after TikTok finally getting to his friend’s head. It had to be that.

“What, bro?”

“They’re childish, brother, look.” Reiss leaned over, showing Jadon a clip of a girl being spun in a salon chair, with bright blue box braids trailing down the cape around her back. Reiss sucked his teeth twice before the video even ended. “It’s a little kid’s hairstyle, like primary school plaits. I do not rate them.”

Jadon laughed in a loud burst of sound, and shook his head at his friend’s wild take. Reiss’ complaining had triggered an image in his mind that easily refuted each of the critiques he brought up. He pushed the phone away from his face.

“Nah, you’re tripping. Braids are fire. Especially with the little baby hairs out, slicked down and that.”

“Noo, bro, the baby hairs get so extra!” Reiss rocked in his seat. “It’s gotta go, the whole style’s dead.”

“Maybe on gyal you see, but my girl, her things different. I’m telling you.”

“Oh my days– you almost did it, you know? You almost made it ten whole minutes without mentioning Y/N. It’s been 2 years, bro, we get it, you’re locked down, it’s cute, whatever.”

Jadon shrugged, a smile on his lips that he didn’t care to hide.

“I’m jus sayin.”

Reiss laughed, and switched subjects to show him another TikTok he thought was hilarious, but the picture in Jadon’s mind that his friend had summoned was too strong to ignore now, the warm feeling in his chest too sweet to pass by quickly. He half-listened while Reiss explained the meaning behind the joke, and scrolled to your Instagram profile. He went back a few weeks to spring break photos where you were sea-side in a flowy linen outfit with waist length braids falling over your shoulders, caught in the ocean wind. A minute later, he’d reposted the photo to his story, with a caption below.

“I love box braids. 😍 And my girl 😍”

He smiled again when it published, his thousands of followers viewing the image and leaving a flurry of cherry red hearts rising in the corner of the screen. Reiss, realizing he was no longer being listened to, peeked over Jadon’s shoulder, and rolled his eyes.

“You are such a simp, bro. I would banter you more if I wasn’t a little bit jealous.”

“Don’t worry, brother, it’ll happen for you one day. When you stop hating on girls’ hairstyles, I bet. Saying braids are dead, nah, you’re mad.”

Reiss shoved against his shoulder, but quickly slipped back down his internet rabbit hole, and a text came into Jadon’s phone.

Y/N: not u reposting my old pics lol you were lurking?

Jadon: No Jadon: Actually yeah Jadon: Reiss was trashing braids and i had to set him str8 Jadon: Can you come by?

Y/N: you 2 are mad i swear Y/N: and i thought u and him had plans after the match?

Jadon: Nah the braid comment was too much Jadon: I wanna see you

Y/N: yeah thats poor from him. i can be there in an hour :) Y/N: and i just got fresh braids done yesterday, i forgot to tell you lol

Jadon: 😍

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“What’s your middle name then? William? Zachary?”

The question registered only faintly in Jadon’s headset, all his focus instead zeroed in on the pixelated movements of his starting XI as they ran alongside Marcus’ XI. The teams were so well-matched that every possession was a battle, and the 85th minute found them in a deadlock with one goal each. It wasn’t quite the time for casual conversation.

“My middle name? What do you mean? No-no-no-no!”

One of his center backs made a sloppy pass, and a pressing forward had intercepted it. Thankfully, the keeper recovered and the score remained 1-1.

“Stop trying to distract me, bro! It won’t work.”

“M’not, I swear! It’s just the letter there on your bracelet. It’s catching the light and I can see it through the screen. And it’s not J or S, so.”

Jadon looked down at his wrist for a moment, at the thin gold chain draped along the left one with a capital letter and small, earth figure hanging in the center. Marcus was right – the jewelry did shine in the light coming in through the window and glowing from the computer monitor, and the sight twitched the sides of his mouth.

“It’s not my middle name, it’s for–wait, wait–”

Jadon paused the game and Marcus cursed over the headset. Still, he went on unbothered, more than happy to provide context around the question his teammate had innocently or not so innocently posed.

“So the letter, that’s for my girlfriend's name. She bought it for me for my birthday, couple years back. It’s nice, innit.” The grin that had started as a twitch now stretched across his mouth. “And the little earth thing is like, it’s like a reminder. That when I’m away, different country, different city, whatever. She’s always with me.”

Marcus smiled at him over the monitor, shaking his head even as his fingers itched to get back to the match.

“Aw look at you, Sanch, big softie. It’s too bad your missus ain’t here now though, to save you gettin whooped in FIFA.”

“No, you’re lucky she’s not here, really, cause I’d have been on a hattrick. It’s a miracle you’re even gettin a sniff, bro.”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah, stop chatting then and press play. Five more minutes and then we’ll see.”

Jadon resumed the game and leaned forward in his chair, his thumbs flying over the buttons. When his team paused for a corner minutes later, thoughts of you, which had been simmering under the surface ever since Marcus’ inadvertently brought you up, flashed through his mind. It was hard when he was in Manchester, and you were in London, but the little spiel he’d given his teammate reminded him, just as the bracelet did, that if the two of you could ever be considered “apart” it was only ever in a physical sense, never an emotional one. There was nothing that could separate him from you as far as he was concerned, unless he were to tear his own heart out of his chest or something equally dramatic. He decided instead to raise his hand to his mouth, pressing the letter charm softly to his lips. It was your name he whispered against the gold, uncaring if Marcus could hear, as he sent the cross flying towards the box.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Can I help you find something, sir?”

The salesgirl rested a hand on his forearm as she asked, and Jadon flinched at the touch. He’d been in the shoe store for a few minutes already and no one had noticed him yet, but the intensity of her look told him he’d been recognized. She was suddenly stood so close some of the hair from her ponytail brushed against his shoulder, and he could see the dark clumps in her heavy lashes. Her fingers were cold.

“Yeah, actually,” He stepped away from her while he talked, letting her hand drop. “I’m looking for a pair of those, uh, ugg slippers, slides, the ones with the fur. Do you have those?”

“I believe we do!” She flashed him a smile that lasted too long to be comfortable, and then turned slowly on her heel. “Follow me.”

They walked to the winter footwear section and she lead the way, walking slower and swinging her hips more than was necessary for the 30-second trip. Her performance, however, was lost on Jadon, who had opened up his phone to read his most recent text thread.

Jadon: Baby pick a color, it’s important

Y/N: for what?

Jadon: Don’t worry about it just pick Jadon: Red, blue, black or brown

Y/N: don’t even know what i’m choosing 😳 Y/N: but i’ll say red, it’s our fave

Jadon: 👍🏽

They’d come upon the display of slip-ons, and the girl swept an arm over them, slipping back into a sales monologue about their current popularity with customers, and how the fur-lined interior was more comfortable than any other ugg shoe she’d tried. He thought her boss must be somewhere around, but noticed there was no one near them.

“Do you have the red ones in an 8? And also a 5.5.?”

“Let’s just see!” She bent at the waist, searching the rack of boxes for the numbers he’d requested and making little noises of exertion all the while. Jadon’s eyes were still on his phone, searching for the notes app entry where he’d saved your clothing and footwear sizes and preferences years ago.

“Ooh, I’m sorry, sir, it looks like we only have the red ones in a size 8 and up. Are you sure you need the 5.5?”

She’d moved down into a squat, and now looked up at him through her lashes, biting on her lip. Her eyelids fluttered like there was something stuck on them.

“Yeah, I gotta have them. One second, please.”

Jadon: Pick another color, sorry Jadon: show you why in a bit

He looked up from his phone, waiting on your reply, and found the girl staring back at him. She took his returned gaze as some sort of invitation.

“You know, we sometimes have more stock in the back, extras that don’t make it on the shelves. We could go take a look together, if you want? The door has a lock on it.”

Jadon’s eyebrows flew into his hairline. He looked around the store bewildered, at a temporary loss for words, because all he could think to say was “Don’t you see my girl standing here?” and regrettably you weren’t. He couldn’t believe that anyone could look at him and not see that he was yours.

“Woah, no – absolutely not–” He stepped away from the girl for the second time, putting his hands up between them to maintain the distance. “I’ve got a girl, still.”

“And? I’ve got a man, too. But you’re Jadon Sancho.” She blinked her lashes harder, looking at him again with a challenge in her eyes that he wanted no parts of. Now, he wished he’d said “no” when she’d asked to help him.

“Nah, you have lost it.” Jadon laughed shakily, still in disbelief that she was propositioning him so boldly when he had your name written right there on his forehead. Or at least that’s how it felt. He shook his head and walked to the furthest part of the shelf where the brown colorways were kept, keeping a wide distance from her crouching frame.

“I’ll find them myself, yeah, thank you.”

The girl made a frustrated noise that he would’ve had to strain to hear, before she stood, her eyes still focused on him. She paused a moment, and with a shrug, took off to another part of the store.

Jadon breathed a sigh of relief. Just after, his phone buzzed with your response and it was just as he imagined.

Y/N: brown, then. it looks good on both our skin (whatever it is)

His smile returned.

At the register, he snapped a photo of the two stacked boxes just before they were bagged up and pressed send.

Jadon: Early bday present for u ❤️ Got a pair too cus I wanted us to match

Y/N: 😁 omg! thank u babey Y/N: that’s so sweet Y/N: i didn’t think you fancied them tho

Jadon: ❤️❤️❤️ Jadon: Yeah they look bare comfortable Jadon: And i need people to know we go together when we go out 😭 u don’t kno what i go thru

Y/N: ugh ur so brave, going out in public for me Y/N: thank u for ur sacrifice

Jadon: my **pleasure, innit ❤️

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“That’s what you’re wearing? You're sure?”

Jadon continued primping himself in the mirror beside you, flattening the crease in his jeans, and fitting clear glasses onto his face. Lastly, slowly, he dragged his palms down the lines of his shirt, and turned to admire the details on its back.

“Of course I am, what you mean? Got it customized and everything, just for your special day, didn’t I?”

The shirt was jersey material and a bright lilac purple with two grey stripes down the front, but the other side was what had made your breath catch when he’d pulled it out of his bag. Y/N’S BOYFRIEND it read, in sparkly block letters across the back.

“I love it! I love it so much. I love you! Come here.” was all you managed at first, through rapid kisses to his lips, cheeks, and neck, but now that the shock had passed the meaningfulness of the gesture began to set in. You hugged him from behind then, feeling the prickle of the glittery letters against your chest through your robe. The love and appreciation you felt was overwhelming.

“How’d you know I’d wear purple, too?” You murmured into his back.

“Cause I just know.” He answered, looking extremely proud of himself. His hands curled around yours as they travelled up his chest, bringing the left one up to his mouth for a kiss.

“You'll make me cry, you know. Ruin my make-up.”

“Nah, none of that. Go on, finish gettin ready.” He squeezed your butt gently. “They’ll have shut the lights off already, and I need everyone to see.”

Now, inside the small party being held in your honor you were convinced the shirt looked even better, shimmering under the flashing dance-floor lights and complimenting his tanned skin. Together with your lavender shirt-skirt set you looked like brown-skinned Barbie and Ken, like two halves of the same whole, and knowing so made your “birthday girl” glow increase tenfold.

Through the night you floated between groups of friends and acquaintainces, trading memories, laughing hard, and saying thank you for the thoughtful gifts and warm messages given from those who’d come to celebrate. Jadon stayed by your side without fail, clocking the eyes on his garment as he passed, and it seemed the the edges of his smile extended each time there was a whisper of “Aww” or a gasp of surprise. Every now and then he would drop your hand, letting you stray a little ahead of him before wrapping an arm around your waist or joining hands again, so that anyone who hadn’t seen the first time knew exactly who “Y/N” was. When you realized what he was doing, it first made you laugh, then feel warm, and then drag him onto the dance floor so you could pull your bodies close.

“I’m not gassin it, am I?” He asked into your ear, hands carefully pressing your back to his chest. “I’ll go chill, let you dance with your friends.”

“Nah, you’re exactly where I want you.” You leaned your head back onto his shoulder for a moment, closing your eyes, feeling the gentleness of his hands on your waist, of his voice in your ear. Remembering how it was your name on his back for all these friends and strangers in the party to see. The music bumped and your bodies’ continued swaying to it.

“I’m happy you’re here, baby. And I can’t stop thinking about your shirt.” You let out more of the happy giggling that had characterized the night. “It’s my favorite gift so far.”

He shrugged, and you felt the movement against your back.

“I’ve been out the city for a while, innit. Just want to make sure people know what it is, that they ain’t forgot.”

“Do you think I don’t do that?” Your body stilled between his arms. “Is that why you’re on about it so much?”

“No, I don’t think that.” He guided your waist to keep moving again, making a lazy circle in time to the beat. “But I gotta make sure. You know that with me people always got something to say, innit. Always speculation, rumors and that. So I do what I can to make sure there ain’t no questions, about us, I mean. Cause there ain’t.”

“Well, I don’t think nobody’s gonna get confused after tonight. You couldn’t have made it any more clear.”

Jadon only laughed, his actions tonight already saying far more than a million words could. He ducked his head down into your neck for two, three warm kisses, squeezing at your hip, and his soft lips on your skin made you shiver.

You turned in his arms towards him, wrapping yours around his neck.

“It makes me feel so good, though, that. That you’re so proud to be with me. Makes me feel very lucky, and special, very in love with you.”

“You are special.” His lips twitched, fighting a smile, and you scratched one hand into the hair at the back of his neck. ”You’re everything. And you’ve held me down for so long, baby, there ain’t even nobody else to think about. It’s just you, innit.”

“I love you” you spoke, a smile breaking across your features, leaning against him, cradling his face, parting his lips in a gesture that said mine. He returned the kiss and the three words in one breath, his heart thumping, and the only thought in his head a repeat chorus of yours yours yours.

#jadon sancho x reader #jadon sancho imagine #jadon sancho blurb #jadon sancho fanfiction #jadon sancho x you #footballer x you #footballer x reader #football imagine #football fanfic

[beyondthesefourwalls]

Ohmygodohmygod

Mickey Garcia, smut, lingerie & 'keep your eyes on me'.

My first time writing for Fanboy and man oh man, did I enjoy it. Hope you like this!

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warnings: smut, oral sex (f receiving), language

Better Than Fiction

Mickey had been so excited when you surprised him with the gaming console he had been trying to get his hands on for months. He didn’t know you had been scouring the internet and calling every store in a 100 mile radius seeing if anyone had it or was getting it in stock in time for his birthday, but by the grace of the video game gods, you had managed to find one the day before his 30th birthday. You had broken more than a few speed limits going to get it to make sure no one else got it first, but the way he had lit up when he unwrapped it the next day had been worth the risk. It was so cute how happy he was and how he had immediately plugged it in and put in the game you had bought along with it. You didn’t even mind that he had spent the rest of his birthday playing it instead of the plans you had originally had. 

But that had been two weeks ago. And aside from when he was on base or in the air, Mickey hadn’t stopped playing it. You had barely had a full conversation with him, barely eaten any meals together, and your boyfriend, your sweet, normally horny and can’t keep his hands off you boyfriend, hadn’t touched you in two weeks. You were to the point of staging a break in and having the damn console be the only thing that went missing if he didn’t start paying attention to you soon. If your plan tonight didn’t work, you didn’t think you would have another choice. 

You stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom of your shared apartment, fluffing your hair and adjusting the straps of your brand new lingerie. It was truly the skimpiest outfit you had ever worn. It was all sheer lace, lined in a blood red silk, and you felt so damn sexy. You ran a tube of your favorite red lipstick over your lips and stepped into the matching colored heels to complete the outfit. You had to give it to yourself - you looked damn good.

Giving yourself one more pep talk, you strutted into the living room. Like you anticipated, he was there on the couch, his controller in his hand as the video game played on the tv in front of him. He hadn’t even noticed you walk into the room. You cleared your throat from where you stood in the entry way, and he didn’t so much as glance in your direction. The last bit of your patience reached, you marched over to stand directly in front of him, your hands on your hips and face twisted in anger. 

“Honey, can you m…,” the words died off of Mickey’s tongue as he finally, finally looked at you. His eyes widened when he processed what you were wearing, his jaw dropping. “Holy shit.” 

“Mickey Garcia, I swear to God, if you don’t turn that thing off and keep your eyes on me for five fucking minutes, I’m going to throw it, and maybe you, out the damn window!”

You watched as he let the controller fall from his hand and clatter to the floor. Without taking his eyes off of you, he reached for the remote on the coffee table. He clicked the tv off without a word, and for the first time in two weeks, you didn’t hear some overdramatic, medieval battle playing as background noise in your apartment. Finally. 

“Mi amor…you look stunning. My God. You dressed up all for me?” 

HIs voice was filled with awe, and you could see his dick twitch from where it was confined within his thin athletic shorts. Satisfaction coursed through you, but you weren’t ready to let him off the hook yet. 

“I did,” you confirmed. You moved forward and straddled his lap, leaning forward to whisper directly into his ear. “But if you don’t have your head between my legs in the next thirty seconds to make up for the fact that you haven’t touched me in two weeks, I’m going to go find someone else who can appreciate it.” 

You barely got the words out before he was gripping your thighs and throwing you onto your back on the couch. You gasped in delight when he didn't hesitate to rip your brand new lingerie right off of you. 

“I’m sorry, baby. I didn’t realize I had been neglecting you. I’ll make it up to you.” He emphasized his words with kisses to your thighs, snipping at the skin. He buried his face in your pussy and inhaled deeply, groaning at your scent. You both groaned when he swiped his tongue through your folds. Oh, yes. This is exactly what you’ve been missing. 

“You can start by making me cum on your mouth,” you instructed, threading your fingers through his dark hair and pushing his face harder to you. His mouth felt heavenly as he worked you with his tongue diligently. “At least once. Maybe twice.” 

“I’ll make you cum as much as you want, mi amor,” he said, speaking the words against your soaking wet pussy before sucking your clit between his lips. “I’ll never ignore you again.” 

word count: 876

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#alli's tgm blurb party #alli's tgm mix and match blurb party #mickey garcia x reader #mickey fanboy garcia #fanboy smut #fanboy imagine #mickey garcia #fanboy x reader #mickey garcia smut #alli writes

[jackiepackiee]

Atsushi x reader that are out on a date and he behaves kinda like kyouka and atsushi’s date

Atsushi my love

Date night

Atsushi x reader

Warnings - none

Type - story

“I’m so sorry I’m late, I totally got messed up and-“ His words tumble out, you’re barely able to put them together. Nervousness with a breathless quality makes his shaking hands seem all too fitting. You cut him off, wanting to calm him.

“You’re not late, Atsu. You’re two minutes early…”

He stops rambling, eyes wide with such a sweet glow. Smiling, he now replies calmly. “Oh!”

He blushes, as he usually does. He looks down sheepishly, eyes take you in. Noticing your outfit, it’s black and white just as his hair. Purple and yellow accents of color like his eyes. Had you always been this pretty since he arrived?

“You look… sorry! I shouldn’t be looking!” He covers his eyes, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. Peeking out of his hands only when he hears a cute laugh.

“Stop apologizing Atsu… you look cute yourself.” She kisses his cheek, smiling at him.

“You don’t mean that…” He softly grabs her hand, focusing on each finger intertwining with hers.

“I do mean that. You’re cute.” She giggles, squeezing his hand and smiling.

“Thank you… I got you something.” He didn’t want to let go of the hand hold, so he struggles to grab the present in his opposite pocket.

“What?” She tilts her head, confused. He thinks it’s the cutest thing, only growing more embarrassed when he realizes he’s staring. He fumbles with the box.

“Open it.” It’s a necklace, obviously expensive. It is very easy to see he saved up for weeks to buy it. It’s not like the agency payed that much.

“It’s beautiful! Oh my.. oh my.” She hugged him tightly, ecstatic. He hugged back, happy she liked it. “Will you put it on me, Atsushi?!” Without a word he clasps it around her neck. It compliments her skin, the complexion of her tone making the jewel pop.

“Beautiful… absolutely stunning, love.” She looks down shyly, and he melts. That was the plan, to make her happy. The bashful nature was definitely an added bonus.

He continues. “Well, we have a date planned.” He adds shyly, waiting for her to be ready.

“Planned? You made a plan?” He nodded enthusiastically, ready to please. He takes her hand again, walking at her pace.

They go to an…ice cream parlor!

She reaches for her wallet, but he pushes her hand away from the purse. “No no no, I’ll pay”

“But-“

“No buts, what flavor do you want?” He asks, puppy like eyes as he’s ready to pay.

“…vanilla, please.”

“No, what do you really want?” He asked because he knows you don’t wanna waste his money. Trying to take the cheapest option.

“Vanilla and chocolate with hot fudge… and sprinkles. Oh! With strawberries too.”

“That’s more like it.” He smiles and orders. Walking back to the table with a bowl of ice cream.

“Can we share? I mean, it’s okay if you don’t wanna, I can not have any-“

“Shush, Atsu. I would love to share.”

You both begin to eat. But when you try to put your spoon to feed him, he blushes and smiles. Still opening his mouth.

“Tastes better when it’s from you..”

“You know what’s even sweeter?”

“Wh-“ A kiss cuts him off. It’s gentle, soft like a feather on the water.

“Oh, oh wow. That was…”

He grows bold and engages a second kiss.

Eyes glowing with wonder, a love struck face. He speaks.

“I love you.”

#atsushi nakajima x reader #bsd atsushi #atsushi x reader #bungou stray dogs atsushi #atsushi nakajima #bsd x female reader #bsd x reader #bungou stray dogs

[rosyjuly]

galex sugar rush au because i've been hooked on this terrible show and i want baker boys pining and whipping up gorgeous desserts.

The whole thing had been George’s idea. 

“No.” 

“Alex, come on,” George had said, trying to catch Alex’s eye, but Alex had been looking away, handsome face scrunched up in a grimace. 

“Be serious now,” Alex had scoffed. He had finished his coffee with one last gulp and sprung to his feet. George threw his paper cup in the trash and followed him inside, looking at the nape of Alex’s neck as they’d crossed out of the courtyard’s sunlight and back into the dark of the kitchen’s staff entrance. 

“I am being serious,” George had said, trying to keep his voice low, avoid drawing attention to the discussion now bordering on an argument. “Listen, it’s fifty grand – think about what we could do with that money.” 

Anyway, they’re watching the episode now with Alex’s siblings, piled too close together on the couch. 

“Don’t you start it without me,” Chloe says, pointing at Alex, when the microwave beeps. Alex’s apartment is only barely bigger than a studio; with the six of them crammed into the makeshift living room it feels practically claustrophobic, a train carriage at peak hour. The old couch doesn’t have the stamina to support three people anymore and every time Alex shifts it sags and sends George and Zoe tumbling down into the middle, the two of them pooling around Alex in a tumble of legs. George keeps his hands in his lap, just in case. 

“I’m telling you,” Alex groans, “you already know the result! Why are you making such a big deal out of it?” 

“If it was a big deal you’d have fucking made something,” Luca says without looking up from his phone. 

“There’s popcorn,” Alex tells him, nodding at Chloe who’s returning with two bowls from the kitchen. 

“Albono, you’re the laziest person I know,” George says. He drags a playful hand through Alex’s hair; the bleached strands are soft between his fingers. 

“I deal with enough food during my day job if you haven’t noticed, thank you very much,” Alex says, rolling his eyes. He doesn’t pull his head away though. He picks up the remote and presses play, which finally shuts everyone up, even if just while Hunter March explains the rules of the chocolate-themed episode. 

“Aww, I didn’t remember you guys had matching little outfits,” Zoe clicks her tongue. 

“George’s idea,” Alex says, reaching around blindly for the popcorn. He’s right. It was: but it’s just blue aprons, nice cotton ones in a deep navy color, big, practical pockets on both sides. George actually wanted headbands, too, but Alex took one look at the bandanas, and said it’s either them or him. It was an easy choice, after that. 

George crosses his arms over his chest as the other teams are introduced. Most of them look smooth, in sync; he’s been trying to avoid stressing about how he and Alex will come across. 

“We’re friends and coworkers,” he sees himself say on screen, over-articulating the words like he does when he’s stressed. Alex next to him looks almost bored, eyebrow half-cocked at the camera. 

“I got him drunk enough to admit that he hired me because he thought I was cute,” Alex says, flashing a bright smirk. 

“For the record, I don't have hiring privileges,” George-on-the-screen says after a guffaw. George remembered feeling caught out: it’s not like Toto hadn’t asked him what he thought of Alex after his trial shift, and Alex was definitely his type: tall and handsome with an attitude. And he hadn’t even bleached his hair back then. 

“Oh, you guys were laying it on pretty thick,” Zoe says, stuffing a handful of popcorn into her mouth. 

George hums, crosses his arm on his chest. He and Alex look like as much of a well-oiled team on screen as they feel in the kitchen, leaning close together over the countertop, notebook spread out in front of them. 

“I think we should do something a bit more out of the box,” George-on-the-screen says, sketching up the bottom of the cupcake. “Peanut butter, raspberry, chili – that’s done and dusted.” 

“Why don’t we do a pistachio one?” Alex says. He draws the frosting, dots the top part of the swirl. “Pair it with some nice dark chocolate in the dough, some crushed nuts on top, hm?” 

In the next interlude, Alex says, his apron clean, his hair artfully swept to one side, “He makes it tasty, I make it look good.” 

George snorts, nudges their knees together. “As if it wasn’t you coming up with that concept and like, half of the others.” 

Alex doesn’t answer, but he presses his leg along George’s. 

George still can’t believe Jacques Torres was in the same room, that he tasted their cupcake and liked it – liked it enough to name them the winners of the first round, blown away by the richness of the frosting, the satisfying, salty crunch of toasted pistachios. 

For the confection, the two other teams already picked ruby chocolate, so they settled on gold instead to set themselves apart. George isn’t sure how much footage will be shown of them – probably more, now that one team’s already been eliminated. But he isn’t prepared for the exact moment when Alex-on–the-screen says, “Why don’t we do ice cream?”, watches with avid mortification how George-on-the-screen immediately nods, face tense, mouth pressed in a thin line. 

“I can do it with liquid nitrogen,” George-on-the-screen offers, already checking the shelves for the equipment. 

“Those glasses are so funny,” Chloe says, phone pointed at the screen. She’s posting a story about it – George can’t wait to see the mocking caption. Better to focus on how silly he looks while he’s taking out the ice cream of the container, goggles and big, rubbery gloves on, instead of the immediacy he seeks to fulfill Alex’s every request. He’s never even used liquid nitrogen before; only knew the technique in theory. And it showed. The ice cream came out a touch too soft. Not even Alex’s carrot cake crumble could save it; the judges were more impressed by the flambéd bananas with the ruby chocolate soufflé. 

But they went through. The girls exhale in relief, and so does George, even though he knows the outcome, has lived it for months now. 

In the final round, they have to create a chocolate wonderland; whatever that means. George remembers the paralyzing fear he felt in the moment, blanking – but Alex was already sketching, his face lit up with excitement, hands moving in sweeping, relaxed motions. 

“And we can do the ferris wheel with salt sticks,” Alex-on-the-screen is saying. 

So they made a realistic Winter Wonderland cake; the fair in a cold, London December, covered in mud instead of snow. A large sheet cake with silky chocolate ganache, on top the barren trees, overpriced amusement rides. 

It must look impressive enough, because even Luca puts his phone away, watches the screen with barely concealed attention. Alex-on-the-screen is making the ganache, pouring heated up heavy cream over the chocolate. When he calls George over for a second opinion, he’s offering the spoon, his other hand cupped under it for any spillage. George-on-the-screen is taken aback, blinking owlishly for a few seconds before snapping out of it and tasting. It was exquisite, of course. 

When they’re done with the assembly and the piping, Alex-on-the-screen asks, “Do you need me to boss you around?” because George keeps hovering at the edge of the shot, fetching salt sticks and shying away from trying to build the freaking carousel. 

“Mate, the editors really liked you,” George snorts, trying to hide his embarrassment. “I had good moments, too! Where are they!”

“Natural charm, what can I say,” Alex says, but he nudges a friendly shoulder against George’s. 

It doesn’t even come as a surprise that they win. Their opponents’ cake was, well, cute, but lacked the kind of single-minded focus Alex and him brought to the table. 

On the screen, he and Alex hug long enough that something starts fizzing in his stomach, hot and uncomfortable. He excuses himself as the music starts up and Hunter March starts thanking them for watching another episode, stares at himself in the bathroom mirror. It can’t be that obvious all the time, he thinks, because otherwise Alex would have noticed it already, would have said something. Anything. 

When he comes out, Alex and Zoe are talking in the kitchen, voices low and hushed. He raps his knuckles lightly against the door. Zoe looks up, face sharp as she says, “I better go, I’m already an hour late to my friends.” Before she leaves, she fixes Alex with one last look that almost makes George flinch. It would be better to flee. Easier, at least. But Alex has always been kind; even if they hadn’t won the prize, if they hadn’t convinced Susie to invest in their confectionery, Alex wouldn’t just blank him. 

The front door closes. The flat is quiet again: it’s just the two of them and the dishes in the sink. George itches to grab a sponge and occupy his hands; shoves them in his pocket instead. 

“Felt weird to see ourselves like that.” 

“Yeah,” Alex says, giving him a small smile. He doesn’t seem mad, truly. “Kinda insane to think about it, still, you know? Winning. Um, the money, of course. Our own place.” He looks down and shakes his head, smiling to himself. 

“We make a good team,” George allows himself to say. 

“We sure do.”

For a few seconds, they watch each other, the silence stretching like a taut bow. Then Alex clears his throat – George tries to steel himself for the blow, school his face into something neutral enough for the rejection. 

“Um. Zoe said,” and he clears his throat again, “she said that I should man up – her words, not mine – that I’ve wasted enough time already.”

“With, uh, with me?” George asks with a valiant attempt to ignore the lump in his throat. 

“Yes– no! Not with the shop, of course, just–” Alex scrubs a hand over his face. “Fuck, I’m getting this all wrong, just, let me–” and then he’s stepping in, cupping George’s nape with a hand as he slots their mouths together. George makes a noise that he’d deny on his deathbed – Alex seems into it anyways, he thinks – and presses closer, kisses him back. 

#would i recomment the show? ehhhh #but it's fun and this is like 1.7k written in a few hours just because #galex #little fic #george/alex #idk my own tagging system but what's new!

[lightupmyass]

Drive Me Fucking Crazy

Pairing: Nahoya Kawata x OC (Unmei or reader)

Warnings: Slight aggression, little bit of angst, little bit of make up sex, established relationship, possessiveness, lots of dirty talk, slight breeding at the end, rough, Nahoya just being dirty and making her know she belongs to him

It had been two weeks. Two weeks since he touched her. Her overly sexual boyfriend never went this long without kissing her, groping her, or pinching her to tease her. It made her scared that she might be the problem, maybe he just wasn’t in love with her, maybe she was ugly now or something like that. She’d looked at herself in the mirror a million times, wondering what it might be. Maybe he was bored of her? Maybe she was too plain looking? It could’ve been a million things, she couldn’t possibly pick just one thing. But, an idea formed in her head that she figured might work. She went out and bought the cutest little lingerie set, a pretty pale peach color with lace and a matching sheer robe with a silky ribbon to tie it together. She was sure this would work, make him at least look at her. She felt confident, twirling in the mirror and feeling good about herself. And when she heard the door open, she knew it was her chance, peaking out from their bedroom door as she watched him walk in, a smile creeping into her lips.

“Fuck!” He shouted, throwing his backpack at the wall before roughly tugging his hat of, trying to rip his hair tie on it and groaning in frustration when it got tangled, as it always did. “Dammit!” He yelled, trying to yank it out. Her smile faded, realizing that it was another fruitless night as she sighed, opening the door and walking over, dejected. “Hey, let me help. You’re gonna rip your hair out.” She said softly, reaching up to stop his hands. He huffed, going over to sit on the couch so she could carefully untangle it from behind, crossing his arms like a child as he grumbled. “Stupid fucking curls. Always get stuck in shit and ruin fucking everything.” He groaned. She finally got it out, patting the top of his head softly as he kept ranting about how much he hated his hair. At this point, she already knew her plan had failed, so if she was going to have to sit through another night of him either venting or ignoring her completely, she was going to get through it drunk. She grabbed some whiskey and two glasses, putting ice in them and setting them on the coffee table, pouring the amber liquid into them and handing him one as she sat down next to him, downing hers in one gulp and pouring more. He also drank it in one gulp, getting up and sighing. “I’m going to shower.” He said, the grin he always wore contrasting the dark, irritated tone in his voice as he left her by herself with the alcohol.

It was hopeless, no matter what, she knew tonight was not going to be the night, and she didn’t know what else she could do to get him to even look at her. He hadn’t even looked at the outfit she got, and it made her see red. She went through so much to look cute so he would at least acknowledge her, and he couldn’t even spare her a glance? The longer he spent in the bathroom, the more she was able to drink until the room started swaying a bit. When the bathroom door opened, she was already lost in a trance as she watched the TV silently, Nahoya sitting down next to her and huffing as he towel dried his hair. She was hyper aware of the fact he was shirtless, smelling nice and fresh from his shower, skin still warm as she unconsciously reached out for his arm, trailing her fingernails along his skin. “Mm…you smell good…” She hummed, resting her head on his shoulder. “Well duh, I just fucking showered. You’re drunk. You’re too warm.” He mumbled, pushing her off of him. Her jaw dropped, lips forming a pout as she put her hand over his, placing it on her bare thigh and moving it up and down. “Baby, just tell me what’s wrong. Every night you come home and you’re so mad, I just want to help you feel better. Can’t you just look at me at least?” She begged, pushing her breasts together with her arms, hoping that’d get his attention. “Jesus fuck, can I not have some time to myself? I busy my ass all fucking day at the shop, gotta cook all the food by myself, I just want some peace and fucking quiet when I get home. Is that really too much to fucking ask?” He huffed, tearing his hand away from her, still not even looking at her.

She was frozen. The shock and pain she felt from his words were enough to send her over the edge, jaw tightening as she got up. “Fine. I’m going to bed. Fucking stupid. Should’ve known better than to think you’d actually fucking give a shit.” She huffed, getting up and bending over a bit to grab the bottle and take it with her. Those words, that was the final snap for him, making him look at her and finally see what she was wearing, her ass on full display in front of his face. But, he couldn’t pay attention to that when her words struck a nerve. “The fuck is that supposed to mean?” He asked, titling his head to the side as he looked up at her. “Nothing. It means fucking nothing. Good night.” She sighed, turning to walk away.

“Nah nah nah, we ain’t doin’ that.” He tsked, keeping her in place, still bent over as he stood up, putting his hands on her hips. “Hoya, let go.” She grumbled, trying to stand up and wiggle out of his grasp. However, he put his hand between her shoulder blades and pushing her back down, her back arching as she pressed back into him due to her lack of balance. “What’s all this, huh? You put all this on to give me a little show? What, you go a couple days without my dick and you turn into a bitch?” He hummed, his eyes scanning over her back, watching the way her ass jiggled when he pulled it back harshly against him, making her yelp. “Let go of me! It hasn’t been days, it’s been weeks. Too fucking busy all the time to even look at me, so if you won’t play with me, I’ll go do it myself.” She huffed, struggling against him. He laughed loudly, pulling her up and turning her around. ‘You’re gonna go do it yourself, huh? That’s what you think? Fine, let’s go.” He taunted, grabbing her hand and pulling her into the bedroom, flinging her onto the bed. “Hoya! What the hell?” She cried out, scooting to the top of the bed as he leaned against the dresser, crossing his arms. “You wanna do it yourself, go right ahead. I bet you can’t even make yourself cum, let alone cum as hard as you do when I fuck you.” He said, his signature smile fading a bit as his eyes opened slightly, peering at her with slight malice. The fact that he had the audacity, that he could stand there so confidently, like she can only feel pleasure from him, that made her even angrier, making her get up and try to push him to the side to get into the dresser. “Move.” She huffed, nudging him. When he wouldn’t budge, she threw her hands in the air, engraved at this point. “Nahoya, move so I can fucking get my shit!” She shouted, the shit eating grin coming back. “Nope. You don’t get to use those. You said you’d go fuck yourself, toys aren’t allowed.” He told her, making her gasp. “That’s not fucking fair! Fuck you, Nahoya! Such a fucking ass!” She shouted, turning around.

“No, you know what’s not fucking fair? What’s not fair is that I have to bust my ass all day every day just to come home and have you instantly clinging to me! Do you know how fucking annoying it feels to just want to shower and relax and you’re glued to my side? When I come home, I just want to clean all the nasty shit off me and you won’t stop fucking touching me!” He admitted, her heart sinking as she sat on the edge of the bed. “What, do you think I just sit around and do nothing all day? I work too, you know. And when I come home, I wanna relax too, and I want to help you relax.” She told him, making him scoff. “Being Mitsuya’s assistant isn’t fucking work. That’s not hard. You sit around and watch him work and make coffee. You don’t actually do anything, that’s not a real fucking job.” He spat, making her gasp. “Are you fucking serious? I schedule events, I call people every day, I research, I do fucking everything except the designing in that studio! You know what? I’m fucking done.” She huffed, going to the closet. “What do you mean you’re done? I’m still fucking talking to you.” He shouted as she shook her head. “I’m done talking to you. If you wanna bitch and whine about me just trying to help you, then I won’t anymore. You can have your fucking alone time. I’m out of here.” She huffed, throwing clothes into a bag. She wasn’t sure where she was going, but she sure as hell wasn’t going to stay here and be told that he hated the way she tried to show him affection.

His head was fuming, his heart hurting as he watched her pack. He couldn’t let her leave, there was no way. How could he give her the attention she needs when he was too exhausted after each work day? How could she even think about leaving him after everything he’s done for her? He loved her, for fucks sake, and all he asked for was a couple of minutes to himself when he got home, and now she’s fucking leaving him over that? No way, he wasn’t going to let that happen. As much as he hated to admit it, he knew it’d been far too long since he’d had the energy to give her what she needed, but he had the energy today, and he was going to use it, especially now that blood was pumping in every part of his body, especially where he needed it to. Hands were on her hips in an instant, pulling her back as she dropped the clothes, her body jolting upright as she felt him pressing into her, his cock hard in his pajama shorts. “Let go.” She huffed, her chest heaving as she tried to ignore it and stay mad, the alcohol making her hyper focus on it instead. “Aw, what’s the matter? You’re just gonna walk out on me? Dressed like that? You really think I’m gonna let anyone see MY baby dressed like that?” He hummed, trailing his hand over the front of her body, starting at her throat to lean her head back against his shoulder and moving down, over her breasts and down her tummy until it slipped between her thighs, pressed tight together. “This is what you’re so mad about, ain’t it? That I haven’t touched you, that I haven’t been dicking you down every night lately? So, if I fuck you, you’ll shut the fuck up, right?” He asked, his lips right next to her ear, her eyebrows furrowing as she tried to focus not in the way the unusual baritone in his voice gave her goosebumps and more on the fact that he was still acting like an ass. “You don’t get it. Just let me go, Hoya.” She pouted, tilting her head to the side as she felt his lips brush over her skin.

Her words fueled him, they way she said to let her go even though he could hear the breathlessness in her voice, the way he could just know her eyelids fluttered shut as she trembled under his touch. “I don’t get it, huh? I think I do, though. Pretty baby’s just so fucking needy that she can’t handle a couple weeks so her man can start up his dream business? That right?” He hummed, moving them slowly to the edge of the bed and bending her over, his hand flat on her back as he rubbed against her. “Just so fucking cock hungry that she had to buy this little get up just so she could tempt me to stuff her little pussy so full, isn’t that right? It’s pretty. Like this lil ribbon.” He chuckled, pulling the silk out off and grabbing her wrists, holding them behind her back and tying them together. “Hoya, what are you-ow!” She squealed as his hand slapped against her ass, so hard it left a small print. “Fuck, you drive me fucking crazy, you know that? Piss me off one second and make me hard the next. Feel it? Ain’t this what you’ve been wanting, baby?” He taunted, rubbing against her core as she stood on her tiptoes, eyes rolling back at the friction. She couldn’t help the way her body shook as he brushed up against her just right, burying her face in the blankets to muffle the whimper she couldn’t hold back. “Yeah, this is what you fucking want. Just say it and I’ll give it to ya. Say ‘I was only a bitch because I wanted your dick.’ And you’ll get it.” He laughed, her eyes widening. “I am not being a-ah! Fuck!” She yelped, lurching forward as he thrust hard against her, hearing their skin slap as her backside bounced against his abdomen. “Fuck! Okay, I’m sorry! I’m sorry! Please, Hoya, I just wanna feel you, I wanna be close to you, wanna show you how much I love you. That’s all I wanted to do. Just wanted to love you.” She whimpered, holding back a sob as tears started staining the blanket. He stood still as he looked down at her, frowning as he heard the little hiccups. He moved them a bit, arching her back more and pulling himself out of his pants, lining up with her entrance and rubbing over it, thankful she gets wet when she’s drunk.

He leaned forward, slipping his hand around her neck and pulling her up against him and gripping her throat, gently as he pushed into her, hearing her moan loudly next to his ear as he sunk all the way in. He groaned low, his head falling forward as his fingers found their way to her lips, slipping into her mouth as her tongue swirled around them. He pulled out with a shaky breath before giving an experimental thrust, making her moan again as her mouth hung open with his fingers still on her tongue. “Fuck, that’s it. Pussy’s always so good for me. Feel so fucking good, baby.” He moaned, kissing her cheeks and he started moving, sliding in and out of her. Her brain instantly went numb, eyes rolled back and drool leaking from her tongue as she moaned uncontrollably. She knew she was needy, but she didn’t know just a few thrusts after so long would have her seeing stars already. He didn’t want to admit it, but he missed the way she clamped around him, the vice grip she always had around him, milking him for all he’s worth. “Okay, you’re right, it’s been too fucking long, shit! Ah, feel so good, baby. So fucking good. Love it when you, oh fuck, that’s it.” He moaned as she wiggled her ass back against him, squeezing tighter and sucking on his fingers. “Just like that. Doing so good for me, sweetheart. Always take this cock so fucking good, fucking takin’ it like a champ.” He groaned, licking behind her ear as he picked up the pace, the sound of their skin and the movement of the bed bouncing off the walls.

Nahoya let go of her, letting her collapse onto the bed in favor of watching the mesmerizing ripples of her ass cheeks as he slammed into her, gripping and massaging the flesh as he twitched inside of her. Unmei raised onto her tiptoes, knowing just how to get the best angle to have him hit the perfect spot inside and make her feel the best. This is exactly what she needed, after weeks of failed attempts to get off with her hand and the little vibrator they kept, all she needed was him, she always knew that. Nahoya wasn’t doing much better, already out of breath with sputtering hips. His moans were loud, Nahoya grabbing his shirt and pulling it up to bite down on the fabric, needing to get a better view of the way her pussy swallowed his fat cock so eagerly, the shaft coming out shiny and dripping in her arousal each time he pulled out. If he could keep this sight on replay for the rest of his life, he would. He felt a little bad that he went so long without touching her, but with the way she was pushing back on him, eager to please and take him, would it be so bad if he did it more often? Was he really that toxic?

“Hoya~! Feels so good. So good. Of fuck.” She babbled, shushing her face into the mattress to hide the loud whine she let out. He let his jaw go slack to drop his shirt, moaning and laughing. “I know, babe. Feels real fuckin’ good. Shit, pussy of yours is to die for.” He agreed, maneuvering her around how he wanted. He flipped her onto her side, one leg over his shoulder and the other dangling to the sides he spread her open, reaching up to pull the top of her dress down and expose her bouncing tits. She gasped and moaned, throwing her head back as he pinched and squeezed her breast, letting him take over the thrusts as she laid back and took it, the pace picking up along with the squelching sounds. “Pretty fucking dress. Pretty fucking pussy. My pretty girl. All mine, right? Can’t walk out on me, I’m all you fuckin’ need. No one else gets to see you like this ever. Right?” The possessive tone was driving her insane. She loved it when he got jealous, when he wanted her to know she was his. She gulped and nodded, looking up at him with lust and love swirling in her hazel eyes as she grabbed his wrist. “All yours. No one else. Promise. Just you. Only for you.” She assured him, giving him her signature sweet smile. He gave her the same, dragging his hand down her torso and pressing his thumb to her clit. “Damn right, all mine. That’s my baby.” He chuckled, happier than ever as her walls fluttered around him.

He was fast, rough, rubbing cycles into her bud until she could feel her body trembling, the waves of pleasure surfing through her and making her toes curl. “Oh fuck. Shit! Hoya! Go faster, ‘m almost, ah!” Nahoya flipped her back over again, moving her up the bed a bit so he could climb on, kneeling behind her and slipping back in. He grabbed her arms, pulling her up off the mattress so she only had her knees and his strength to keep her upright. “Faster? Want it fast and hard, huh? Just wanna be fucked dumb on this dick, that right?” He asked, keeping himself completely buried and not moving waiting for her to beg. Unmei nodded, choking on a sob as her high faded away, much to her dismay. “Please! Please, Hoya, wan’ it so bad. Just wanna cum, please, baby.” She whined, wiggling her hips again to encourage him to keep going. He smiled, dropping her back onto the bed and putting his hands on her back, making her arch more. “Alright alright, I GUESS I’ll be nice. Just make sure you cum hard and scream my name, kay?” He laughed, not wasting any more time before thrusting hard again.

The brutal pace had her vision going blurry, each snap of his hips making the headboard hit the wall, sure to deepen the dents already there. “Shit! Ah, fuck! That’s it, baby. Take it. I know you can. Gonna fill you up for being so good. Want that?” He asked, laughing when she babbled incoherently. She could barely even hear him, the pleasure too much and making her ears ring, the moans and whimpers the only sounds leaving her lips. “Dumb already? Guess you really love my cock that much. No one else can make you feel this good. Only me. I’m the only one that gets to cream these insides.” He couldn’t help it, just seeing her try to walk out earlier sent him feral, he had to make sure she knew no one else could make her feel the way he does. Even though she already knew it, he couldn’t ever let her forget.

He knew all the telltale signs, her walls clamping and fluttering around him, her hips rocking back shamelessly, pretty manicured nails digging into the comforter. She was leaking, her essence dripping down her thighs as the wet, nasty sounds of her pussy got even louder, driving him wild. It was making it easier to move faster, his hips snapping at almost an inhuman pace until her moans turned into loud gasps, screams as she reached back to grab his wrist. He watched as she turned her head to the side, her mouth hung open as she cried out, pussy squeezing the life out of him as she came hard. “Fuck! Holy fucking shit! Cumming!” He groaned, slamming into her one more time before he let himself go, slipping so deep inside of her he hoped it’d never come out. Maybe she’d learn her lesson then.

Nahoya collapsed on top of her, her legs falling as they laid together and caught their breath, his weight on top of her soothing. He sighed, rolling onto his side and spooning her, keeping himself nuzzled inside of her as he grew soft to keep everything from leaking out, wrapping an arm around her and kissing her neck and shoulders. Unmei’s eyelids fluttered shut as she smiled and giggled, placing her hand over hers as she relaxed. “Don’t ever make me wait that long again.” She breathed out, the vibration of his laugh making her heart flutter. “Aw, you really need me that bad, Angel?” He teased, Unmei slapping his hand. “I know, I know. I won’t, promise. Need you too bad for that. Love you, baby.” He cooed, kissing her ear lobe. “Love you too. Now, get off so I can go clean up.” She insisted, trying to wiggle out of his grasp. But, he kept her firm in his arms, clicking his tongue. “Nah, don’t think so. Wanna stay just like this.” He shook his head, only moving to have her face him while still keeping himself inside. That was the main thing he wanted, to stay snug and warm in her pussy, make sure all of him stayed tucked inside. Unmei didn’t really mind, she liked the intimacy of it, but Nahoya was definitely letting his toxic and possessive side get the best of him in that moment. If it meant keeping her around forever, one kid wouldn’t hurt, right?

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