#he loves short people and he loves tall people.... so a short person in heels? chefs kiss

[montammil]

Lawrence how tall is too tall for you?

"I think either way I'll love my partner's height, honestly. Short people are cute and more fun to tease; and I like tall people because I'm not used to it. Its fun to have someone tower over me for once. So either way, I'm satisfied!" - Lawrence

[mariasont]

Dress Code - S.R

a/n: got a little carried away with this one, but ugh just imagining spencer reid coming to my defense has me down BAD

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: spencer reid x bimbo!receptionist!reader

summary: in which spencer reid doesn't appreciate an agent questioning the length of your skirt

warnings: fluff, a rando flirting/being rude with the reader, mini skirts 4 life, definitely not appropriate for work but spencer doesn't give a FUCK

wc: 1.5k

"Interesting choice of attire for the FBI," the man's voice commented as you paused in the midst of penciling in his meeting with Chief Cruz. "Isn't that skirt a bit... short?"

The man was tall, though not quite as tall as Dr. Reid. His hair, a dark shade that caught the light as he moved (more so because of the liberal amount of gel in it), was neatly trimmed, but it lacked the effortless charm of Spencer's curls.

You had unwittingly set a standard, with Dr. Reid as the benchmark. You tried to go on dates, to distract yourself from the boy genius, but those dates turned into a mental tally--he's not as smart as Spencer, not as kind, not as attractive. 

Maintaining an unshakeable smile, you stood up from your work area. "You think? I just love how it twirls when I spin!"

You demonstrated--the pleated hem of your pink tweed skirt billowing out around you. You wobbled on your heels, a giggle escaping you as you used the desk to steady yourself. Spencer's gaze followed your every move as you tucked a couple stray curls behind your ears.

Spencer intended to maintain a respectful distance, to grant you some space, but he found himself consistently drawn towards you, as if pulled by gravity itself. You were irresistibly captivating, and it wasn't lost on him that this allure undoubtedly affected others just as much.  

His gaze sharpened into a glare, almost tangible in its intensity, directed at the man who hovered too close in your personal space, eyes trailing where they shouldn't as the fabric of your skirt fluttered with your movements.

The agent let out a soft laugh, inching forward to prop his elbows on the desk's edge, his eyes subtly scanning your legs. "I'd wager it becomes quite the tactical distraction during interrogations."

"Oh, I don't go into the interrogation rooms, silly!" you laugh, a melodic ripple in the air, as you ease back down into your chair. 

You cross your legs, one over the other, the action accentuating the graceful lines of your figure, skirt settling into place with a soft rustle. 

The man's smirk broadened, his eyebrow lifting in a choreographed motion. "You don't say?"

Your smile is radiant, blissfully unaware of the sarcasm in his voice. You tilt your head, a soft gesture as you rearrange a vase brimming with colorful flowers on your desk--a thank-you from Garcia for the cupcakes you gifted her with last week.

"Yep! I'm the first face people see here, and I want to make sure it's a good one!"

He nodded slowly, a sly grin spreading across his features. "The first face, huh? I suppose with a view like that, it's hard for anyone to get past the front desk. But isn't it a bit distracting for the agents?"

"I believe it's all about focus. And our team has an exceptional ability to focus, no matter the environment."

It was a welcome surprise to watch Dr. Reid make his way toward you, his walk a familiar lanky stride that somehow managed to be both awkward and graceful. You like his tie today, still crooked, but charming, and it was decorated with blue stripes that trailed up the side. Despite the sharp lines of his suit, there was something so undeniably soft about him. 

"Dr. Reid, I..."

Spencer didn't let him finish his thought. "And speaking of work, I believe Chief Cruz is waiting on you for those files. Best not to make him wait."

You weren't speaking of work, but the agent was quick to excuse himself, nonetheless.

"He seems nice, doesn't he?"

Spencer's lips twitched, on the verge of breaking your idealistic bubble, but he stopped short, arrested by the sincerity shining in your eyes. The idea of spoiling your untainted perspective felt almost sacrilegious, not when your smile was so genuinely sugary it nearly could've brought him to his knees right then and there. 

"Yeah," he conceded, his eyes trailing over your complacent face. "Nice."

You looked down at your skirt, plucking at a thread that had come undone. "You don't think it's too short, do you?"

You stood, ensuring he had a complete view, your palms delicately pressing the fabric down. Spencer's eyes opened a shade wider, the unexpected display catching him off guard. The skirt's length--or lack thereof--left little to the imagination, your thighs on full display, but he'd keep that thought to himself, and with any influence he had, everyone else would as well. 

"No, it's fine, you look lovely."

"Lovely?" your eyes basically shimmered in this light, your chin gently resting in the curve of your palm as you fixed him with an intent stare. "That's high praise."

"Deservedly so."

"Dr. Reid, I'm blushing."

And you were, pink radiating across your neck and cheeks, but he was sure a similar rosy shade was coloring the tips of his ears.

You rose from your chair, circling the desk to position yourself directly in front of him, close enough for him to detect the light scent of Dubble Bubble on your breath. He, almost instinctively, found himself leaning in your direction. 

"I just love how it feels," you noted, hand brushing against the cloth. "It's so soft, see?"

You extended the hem of your skirt towards him. Spencer's hand hesitated, then tentatively touched the fabric, clearing his throat in the process. He was even closer now, the scent of your perfume--what he thought was a mix of roses and a hint of citrus--engulfed him. The skirt was soft like you had said, but it was the warmth radiating from your skin that sent a jolt through him. 

His knuckles grazed against your thigh, whether intentional or not he really wasn't sure. His usual clarity wasn't up to par, not with you standing so close, looking so nice. The world seemed to spin when he was around you.

You let out a giggle, a soft and effervescent sound that seemed to steal the air from his lungs. "Do you see what I mean? It's like wearing a cloud."

His hand snapped back as if touched by fire, his face awash with a flustered glow. "Yes, it's...very soft," he managed, raking his fingers through his hair, his gaze darting to any point but your legs, the memory of its softness scattering his concentration.

You offered a beaming smile, naively unaware to the sheer havoc you wreaked on his senses. He needed to get back to work to prevent any rash decisions--like taking your face in his hands and pressing his lips to yours right there, an act that would certainly mar his professional record. He also wasn't sure you'd appreciate that. 

As though you had plucked the thoughts straight from his mind, your fingertips brushed softly over his chest. "Goodness, I've been rambling on, haven't I? You probably have, like, super important stuff to do."

Your touch seemed to still the air between you, Spencer's breath hitching, momentarily losing his train of thought. "Oh, uh... well, no, it's actually kind of a slow day for me right now."

Your hand, moving from his chest to rest on his arm, offered a tender squeeze. "Oh, that's good, isn't it? You guys are always super busy, it's about time the universe gave you a break, huh?"

Just as Spencer opened his mouth to reply, you bit your lip, cheeks flushed with a sudden realization. "Oh no, I totally just jinxed it, didn't I?"

You quickly rapped your knuckles against the desk. 

Spencer cocked his head to the side, a bemused chuckle escaping him. "What?"

Your words bubbled over with delight, closing the gap between you and Spencer until you were almost chest to chest. "Look at this, I'm the one who is teaching you something for once!" Your smile was wide and uncontainable. "So, knocking on wood--it's supposed to ward off bad luck or reverse a jinx, just like I might have done."

A myriad of scientific retorts teetered on the tip of his tongue, each one ready to debunk the notion of luck and its superstitious rituals. But those thoughts dissolved in the glow of your smile, as radiant and illuminating as an 1800-watt lightbulb. 

"Really? That's fascinating," he mused, his smile soft. "I'll have to remember that."

"Right? Oh, and don't get me started on finding a four-leaf clover. I swear it's lucky. I found one once, and I had the best day ever."

To him, it seemed like you didn't have anything other than good days, despite the statistical improbability. 

"I don't doubt it," Spencer replied with a knowing smile. Noticing the same agent coming out of the hallway, he excused himself. "Well, I'm going to get back. I'll, uh, see you later?"

"You know where to find me," you said.

As you spun to retreat to your desk, he offered a last, discreet glance at your skirt, more specifically the shape of your ass in it, before following after the agent.

"Walk with me, yeah?" Spencer suggested, his tone leaving no room for argument. It was out of character for him, but the way his jaw tightened suggested he didn't care. Once the distance granted privacy from your ears, he stated plainly. "Her attire is not up for discussion. If there's a concern, I'm the one you talk to."

The remainder of his day passed just as slow, and in the back of his mind, he entertained the thought that he had your knock-on wood to thank for that.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[bedoballoons]

Yandere Tighnari, Venti, lyney, Freminet and Aether finding out Reader isn't really into short guys They're into someone bigger and taller {{Itto For Aether, Alhaitham for Tighnari, Nevillete for both Lyney and Freminet and Zhongli for Venti}}

I READ THIS AND WAS LIKE YESSSSSS!!! (As a short person I find this hilarious and your idea is literally genius!) I hope you enjoy and thank you so much for your request!

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Just not that into short bois~༺}

CW: Yandere themes!, characters are obsessive to the point of wanting to harm others so they can't take you, unrequited love, intense jealousy, mild angst! Lyney makes Neuvillette disappear! Also this is much longer than I meant it to be...what can I say, I like yanderes!

(Includes: Lyney, Tighnari, Venti, Freminet, and Aether!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Lyney:

Lyney had been told no many times in his life,in fact he couldn't even count how many people said he could never be a famous magician...and yet he'd proved every single one of them wrong. He simply couldn't stand not working towards something everyone else claimed was impossible, because in his eyes anything was possible, so when you confided in him about your feelings towards Neuvillette and stated that you found him more charming because of his height, even going so far as to mention you didn't really like short men as much...he just couldn't give up so easily.

He was madly in love with you, to the point it had become more than obsession, he'd seek you out anytime he'd left his home and any show he'd make sure to wink at you the moment his eyes met yours, he was so head over heels for you that he was physically unable to think about anyone or anything else. This also meant he wouldn't let anyone take you...especially just because they were taller...absolutely not.

So for his next show he planned something extra special, a magic trick truly wonderful in everyway...and as the crowd cheered, watching in awe when the box that had contained the chief of justice disappeared before their very eyes...none of them were aware he wouldn't show back up again...at least not for along while. Not until Lyney had found a way to make you love him, not until you...the most precious beautiful thing in all the world...was his.

𑁍༄Tighnari:

Tighnari stood next to you, his ears drooping with regret as he watched you flirt away with Alhaitham, his tall muscular figure drawing you to him like a moth to a flame...making you completely forget about the one who'd brought you together in the first place. It was like some cruel trick of fate...especially considering Tighnari had planned to confess his feelings for you that same day...and now it seemed like it would do no good..

He tapped your shoulder, not waiting for your response as he intertwined his hand with yours, pulling you away from Alhaitham as quickly as possible...and silently hoping you'd leave the whole situation at that. You on the other hand were not so happy with him, wanting desperately to continue your conversation with the handsome scribe..., "Tighnari what was that about? I was really getting along with-" He put a gloved finger to your lips, making you go quiet, his heart racing as he looked deep into your eyes.

"I love you...so much. I can't even really wrap my head around my feelings because they are so intense...it's like I need you just to keep going...like you're the thing I simply cannot live without. Even the air I breathe isn't as important as you are...." His confession was a bit much to say the least and adding to it was the kiss he placed on your forehead, causing you to jerk away from him.

"I'm sorry...but I don't feel that way for you..." Your words spilled out before you could stop them, your heart racing with fear at the change in his mannerisms...he didn't even respond...he just stood there...like he was plotting something and you...were about to find out just how crazy his love for you actually was.

𑁍༄Venti:

"I actually do have feelings for someone."

The second those words left your lips Ventis heart began to race, his mind clouded over with thoughts of you confessing to him and telling him you loved him...it was all he wanted. No, it was all he needed! He tried his best to calm himself down, taking a sip of wine before responding like someone who was completely clueless of the others feelings would, "Oh ho ho and who would that lucky person be hmm?"

A blush coated your cheeks followed by a sweet flustered smile that could make even Lord Barbatos swoon and boy was he...until you answered, "I like Mr. Zhongli~" You giggled nervously, not noticing how pale Venti went the second he heard the name...how the part of the wine bottle he'd been holding had shattered, much like his heart...you didn't even notice the hurt tone of his voice when he asked, "What does that old blockhead have that I don't?"

The question definitely took you by surprise, but you assumed he wasn't being serious and decided to answer truthfully, "Well he's a bit more refined...and I like his voice, but most of all he's so tall! I'm sorry Venti but I just can't imagine myself with someone...so tiny." The anemo archon was speechless...hatred seeping into his very being and jealousy getting the better of him. He stood up without another word and left, leaving you wondering what had happened...

𑁍༄Freminet:

Freminet was completely silent, his face bright red and burning with a rage he'd never felt before, his hands barely able to keep steady as jealousy ate away at his once calm heart heart. All he wanted was you...your love, that sweet smile that he craved to see everyday, but here you were, sitting Infront of him with this doe eyed look on your face as you fawned all over none other than the chief of justice. Mentioning more than once how tall and handsome he was, how incredible it would to have a man like him around.

"Enough."

You paused mid sentence, caught off guard by the amount of malice in his once kind sweet voice, watching as he stood up from his seat, your mouth slightly agape. You'd never seen him like this before...so angry and confident, it was scary...yet also a little exciting. After a moment of silence you'd worked up the courage to say something...but you didn't even manage to get a single word out as he grabbed the front of your shirt and pulled you harshly towards him, making you let out nothing more than a sharp gasp.

Your face went red, pure shock displaying itself on your features as he leaned in closer, his light purple eyes seemingly staring into your soul as his whispers grazed your ear, sending a shiver down your spine, "Hush now my love...you don't need him...I promise~"

𑁍༄Aether:

Aether was always there to help someone, so reliable in fact, that everyone called on him whenever there was a issue and including you, after all he'd saved you from many close calls...even saving your life a few times in the process and for that you were incredibly grateful, but alas you were still not in love with him. He on the other hand couldn't get enough of you, he just wanted to be near you all the time...be your hero and love you like nobody else ever could.

He...however wasn't the only person who could save someone and when the friendly neighborhood oni stepped in to save you, Aether was anything but pleased... especially when he saw the difference in how you acted. Yes your gratitude was the same...but you'd gotten all flustered at the onis impressive figure, touching the large man's chest while your face heated with such a strong blush and everyone around you cheered him on.

Aether was more than a little upset, suddenly understanding that he clearly wasn't your type and that he probably would never be, he just couldn't stand it! How could you, the person he'd do absolutely anything for...be so enraptured by someone else...just because they were bigger than him. No, he wouldn't let it stand, he'd fight for you, even if it meant doing things he could regret later on...it didn't matter, not anymore. You were all he cared about...all that mattered.

Just. You.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

[luvgavii]

color me jealous - (pg8)

summary: jealous pedri featuring rúben mf dias ;) (model!reader)

dedicated to all the pedri girls <3

You were smiling at your phone while you sipped on the expensive champagne, replaying your Instagram story over and over again, the imagine you posted of the flowers your boyfriend sent to your dressing room before your modelling show never failing to spread a smile to your face. But of course, your happy moment had to be interrupted.

Turning on your heels, a strong scent of perfume met your nose as two arms wrapped tightly around you, the elder woman air kissing your cheeks.

“you were absolutely beautiful up there, y/n!” The lady, one of whom dresses you wore tonight spoke in an elegant voice yet thick accent you could only recognise as french.

“thank you! the dress was beautiful,” you smiled brightly, the woman giving your hands a squeeze, whispering another few rounds of praises before disappearing somewhere in the gallery to mingle with the rest of the stuck up, posh people. You knew you had to join them, but your thoughts were filled with one person only.

You looked around, your eyes scanning every table, every single corner of the big gallery for Pedri, yet you could not spot him anywhere.

A frown crept to your face, a thousand thoughts filling your mind.

‘did he leave early?’

‘why would he leave before coming up to you, kissing you and telling you he’s proud of you?’

‘maybe he had a football emergency?’

‘football emergency this late?’

“I saw Pedri outside taking a phone call a few minutes ago,” the familiar voice of Rúben Dias came from behind you, making your eyes widen as you whipped your head around, meeting Rúben’s warm smile and eyes.

“Rú? What are you doing here?” You asked, a chuckle escaping your lips as you went in to hug the tall man.

Rúben laughed, wrapping his arms around you before speaking, “As if I’d miss out on seeing you on that runway,” his smile could almost reach his ears as he looked down at you.

While any other girl would absolutely melt under Rúben’s eyes, you always made sure to keep a respectful distance, first because you had Pedri who was your person in every possible way and second because you didn’t want to fuel into Rúben’s flirting too much. You were loving the attention, though.

“thank you! I appreciate it,” you smiled, you were happy to see him, the last time you two had hung out was a long time ago when you were modelling in England, but the Man City player always seemed to have some interest in you, even before you started going out with Pedri a few months ago.

You and Rúben have always been friendly, sure, he was always playful flirting with you, but whatever attraction you had felt for the portuguese has quickly disappeared when you met Pedri. As soon as Rúben had posted a picture of the two of you at the gala, arms wrapped around your shoulders as your hand rested on his chest, the fans and media went wild.

It didn’t take long for the fans to figure out where the location of the after party of your modelling agency took place, and while Pedri was on the phone with his manager, he couldn’t help the frown on his face when the fans a few feet away were chanting Rúben Dias’ name.

You met Pedri almost six months ago when your best friend insisted on going to a Barcelona game, and while you didn’t know much about football at the time, your interest was quickly growing when you saw the man who wore number 8. With the help of a friend of a friend, who happened to be married to one of the players, you stuck around long enough to meet them after the game and you and Pedri became inseparable ever since.

He was confused as to why in the world there were people holding Man City jerseys, chanting the name of another football player, until he checked Instagram and saw the photo that was now on every gossip page. People were speculating, asking if you and him had broken up so short after hard launching your relationship and Pedri hated that more than he liked to admit. He hated being in the spotlight with things like these but he hated even more the way Rúben fucking Dias held his arm around you.

Back inside, you were laughing at whatever Rúben had said, your head falling back and your nose scrunching in that adorable way Pedri always said he adores.

Pedri, Pedri, Pedri, Pedri, your mind repeated over and over again.

Your eyes met across the room, his brown eyes softening when your gazes locked. His eyes hid some kind of harshness in them, and you could immediately tell that there was something bothering him, and that something happened to start with an ‘R’ and end with an ‘úben’.

While it was morally wrong to fuel Pedri’s jealousy, you couldn’t help yourself and keeping your boyfriend on his toes wouldn’t hurt.

Your palm pressed against Rúben’s bicep as you leaned up to whisper something in his ear, Pedri’s eye twitching while he watched from afar, wondering what the hell you could’ve said that got Rúben smiling so brightly. He clenched the glass of whiskey harder in his hands until his knuckles turned white and for a second Pedri considered calling Gavi to help him commit murder, knowing his best friend would definitely help dig away the body.

“you’re really trying to tick Pedri off, huh?” Rúben laughed, making you chuckle and making Pedri picture his murder in graphic detail.

“he’s really sweet, I like it when he gets a bit rough and jealous sometimes,” you laughed, shaking your head at Rúben, your eyes meeting the familiar chocolate brown orbs.

“what, like, throw you to the wall rough?” Rúben raised an eyebrow, but couldn’t help the smile that spread to his lips.

“no, not like that,” you laughed knowing you were not about to discuss your sex life with Rúben, at the after party of your show.

“mi amor?” you heard the soft, familiar voice calling out for you, both you and Rúben turning to see Pedri.

He looked almost sad, and you couldn’t help the pain in your chest when you saw that disappointed glimmer in your boyfriend’s eyes which was probably because you barely got to see him after the show. The quicky in your dressing room before hitting the runway was good tho.

“can I talk to you for a second?” Pedri dragged his voice, his eyes falling from Rúben to you, not caring how rude the other football player might consider him, “alone.”

You nodded and bid Rúben goodbye, thanking him for coming. Pedri was still a golden retriever, so even if he was slightly pissed off because you paid so much attention to Rúben, he still shook his hand.

“looking forward to that friendly,” Rúben said with a slight tease in his voice, making Pedri clench his jaw, he barely recognized himself, he was never this jealous.

“I’m looking forward to rearranging your jaw—“ Pedri muttered under his breath as you and him walked away, his words caused you to laugh and hit his shoulder.

“can you not? he was nice to you,” you chuckled, stopping in a secluded spot in the gallery.

“by flirting with you all night? damn, we have different definitions for ‘nice’,” Pedri huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he looked you in the eyes.

Jealousy, rage and so much love and affection was in them. No matter how much you annoyed him, Pedri never seemed to be able to lash out at you and that was the greenest flag you could think of.

“you did that on purpose didn’t you?” he asked, raising an eyebrow when you smiled cheekily, your arms wrapping around his waist and your chin resting on his chest, “you’re so annoying,” Pedri mumbled when he realised all that overly friendly stuff with Rúben was an act.

“you love meee,” you chuckled, laughing at Pedri’s narrowed eyes, knowing he was either plotting your murder or thinking of how to get you back.

His lips curled into a grin, his nose rubbing against yours as he spoke against your lips, “too much, mi estrella.”

[inswatiable-lesbian]

hello!! I answered in the comments of your post for asking of requests so here am i!👋🏻

OKAY SO, yk how usually readers are written to be short and they have to look up towards their S/O or get on their tiptoes and all that? While I find the idea cute and have no dislike or hate towards it (or towards short people, we love and accept everyone here🫶🏻), as a tall girlie I get S O excited when the reader is written as tall. Unfortunately, there aren't a lot of content like that soooo would it be too self-indulgent to ask for Haikyuu boys with tall!reader?👉🏻👈🏻

Thank you so much in advance and have a lovely day~♡

OMG TOTALLY!!! thank you so much for requesting, i hope you have a lovely day as well

tw/info: tall!reader (reader is about 6'1, just because I want to lol, but you can imagine it however you want), the haikyuu boys are too tall in my opinion😿, a little fluff for our soul, not proofread!! Literally my first time writing for Haikyuu.

pairings: Tobio Kageyama, Kei Tsukishima, Hajime Iwaizumi, Takahiro Hanamaki, Wakatoshi Ushijima, Shinsuke Kita, Osamu Miya, Kōshi Sugawara, Yū Nishinoya, Shoyo Hinata, Morisuke Yaku, Ryūnosuke Tanaka, Daichi Sawamura, Asahi Azumane, Tadashi Yamaguchi, Lev Haiba, Issei Matsukawa, Keiji Akaashi, Eita Semi, Tetsurō Kuroo, Kozume Kenma, Tōru Oikawa, Atsumu Miya, Aran Ojiro, Kōtarō Bokuto, Rintarō Suna, Kiyoomi Sakusa x tall!reader (sorry if I didn't add your fave)

He finds it so attractive when you are wearing high heels and you are the same height or even taller than him. Fragile masculinity? No way, not when his partner is the most beautiful thing on earth he's ever seen

"Don't worry, there's no need to rush" He speaks in a calm voice, waiting for you to finish getting ready so you can leave the house

"I'm so sorry..." You murmur as you struggle to tie your heels. And as soon as he notices, he is quick to kneel in front of you and tie them for you like the gentleman he is, stealing a kiss from you after standing back up.

"You look beautiful, darling." He states, smiling in your direction. "Now let's go"

— Tobio Kageyama, Kei Tsukishima, Hajime Iwaizumi, Rintarō Suna, Wakatoshi Ushijima, SHINSUKE KITA, Osamu Miya.

This guy is stunned. And not in a bad way, far from it, being the one who occasionally had to look up (even if it is a lot or just slightly) to kiss you wasn't a problem for him at all.

"Babe, do you know where my coat is? I can't find it anywhere."

"This one?" You turn to him, with his uniform jacket in your hand.

"Yes, thank you" He says while grabbing his jacket and looking up at you, waiting for a kiss.

"Love you shortie" You respond before kissing him

"Oh come on, I'm not even that short."

— KŌSHI SUGAWARA, Yū Nishinoya, Shoyo Hinata, MORISUKE YAKU, Ryūnosuke Tanaka, Daichi Sawamura, KOZUME KENMA.

He will always be there when you are insecure about your height, it doesn't matter if you are "too tall" in your pov, he will always tell you that you are amazing, your height won't change any of that

You invited him to sleep over at your house for the weekend, for a cute slumber party, you know? But there you were, looking in the mirror with a less than positive expression, disappointed in fact, while he made popcorn for the two of you in the kitchen.

"Is something wrong?" He asks, making you startle because you thought he hadn't come back to your room yet.

"Geez, you scared me!"

"Sorry" he says laughing, "but that doesn't answer my question"

"It's nothing, I just... I've been feeling uncomfortable, people in my class look at me like I'm weird just because I'm taller" you sigh "It's not like I care that much! But it gets frustrating after a while... you know?

He smiles calmly and goes to your side, handing you a bucket of popcorn. "You are the most beautiful, kind and fun person I know, your height doesn't change any of that, does it?"

— ASAHI AZUMANE, Tadashi Yamaguchi, Lev Haiba, Issei Matsukawa, KEIJI AKAASHI, Eita Semi, Kiyoomi Sakusa.

He brags a lot about dating someone like you, saying that his girlfriend is practically a supermodel.

"Who is she?" one of his friends asks, curious as to why he hadn't stopped looking at you since you stepped into the cafeteria.

"The gorgeous supermodel across the room? My girlfriend" He proudly states, with the biggest smile on his face as he waves at you from afar.

"Wow, you were lucky"

"Yeah, totally.. Have you seen her? she is perfect! And she-"

God knows how long he spent talking about you to his friend, but after a few minutes you were sitting at a table eating something together while he talked about practice.

— TETSURŌ KUROO, Tōru Oikawa, ATSUMU MIYA, Aran Ojiro, KŌTARŌ BOKUTO, Takahiro Hanamaki.

[augustvandyne]

Hey! Could you do fluff John Nolan and wife reader where she visit the station and everyone just awed at her beauty? Maybe someone try to flirt with her. You decide how it end. Tag me later. Thanks!

first time writing for nolan 😜

lmk how i did!

nolan’s wife

You were way too beautiful to be John Nolan’s wife, is the first thing that comes to mind to all the officers when you introduce yourself.

Lucy and Jackson knew Nolan was with someone, because he always shot down anyone that came onto him everywhere they went. Whether it be the hospital, a call, the bar, anywhere.

But they didn’t know that that woman was his wife, nor that she was that gorgeous!

And I mean everyone, even Tim Bradford, was checking her out as she made her way towards the rookie.

“John,” You said in a silky voice, slightly fixing his tie.

“Y/n,” John smiles down at you, leaning down to place a kiss on your lips.

That was the only downside of your husband—his height. He was so tall, and it wasn’t that you were short, it was just that he was so tall! Even in high heels you couldn’t match his height or anywhere near it.

“Oh, my god,” Lucy sped over to the two of you, her hair pulled back into a low bun. “You are gorgeous!”

“Thank you?” You pull back slightly from John, giving him some personal space.

“I have to say, you are beautiful,” Jackson says, his hands resting on his belt.

“Who’s this smoke show?” Smitty walks over, raising his brows and flashing a smile. “Wanna go out tonight?”

“Yeah, I’m gonna have to pass,” You nod awkwardly, holding your hand out to let him see your ring. “I’m married.”

“To who? I could take him,” Smitty assures you.

“To me. She’s my wife,” John asserts dominance, which has Smitty backing up a few steps.

“Alright, slow down cowboy,” Smitty puts his hands up, walking back to his desk.

Lucy laughs, shaking her head.

“Hey, we were just about to head out for lunch, wanna join us?” Jackson asks nicely.

“Oo, yes!” Lucy jumps excitedly. “Please, please, please come!”

“I mean, if it’s okay with you,” You turn towards John, looking up at him sweetly.

“Of course, oh, I’d love for you to go,” John puts his large hands on the sides of your head, leaving a kiss on the top of your head.

“So it’s a deal, let’s go,” Lucy puts her arm through yours. “Y/n gets shotgun.”

Lucy drives you to this food truck joint, that has several different types and trucks to try from, so you could basically get whatever you wanted.

You sit in front with Lucy, while John and Jackson take up the backseat.

You snap a photo of John in the back seat, and tell him that you think it’ll make the Christmas card this year, resulting in a laugh from him.

Once there, Lucy picks a table with four chairs, and you sit as John gets the two of you something to share. Because, yes, the two of you are adorable like that. But also because he wanted to surprise you since you’ve never eaten there before.

You watch him go around to several of the trucks, getting a bit of everything, and you love him for it because he knows you so well.

Lucy shares a few of her fries with you as you wait.

When he sits back down, you are relieved to be hit with the smell of food, but then are hit with the urge to vomit.

Which brings you back to the whole reason you came to see John at the station.

You cover your mouth, which has you receiving a concerned look from your husband.

“Everything okay?” His frown deepens as get up.

“Excuse me,” You all but sprint towards the nearest trash can and hurl into it, not even caring about how people around you are trying to eat.

“You okay?” John appears beside you, rubbing your back and giving you a napkin so you can wipe your mouth.

“I’m fine,” You swallow, trying to get the taste out of your mouth. “Did you get something to drink?”

“Yes, it’s right this way,” John still watches over you intently, his hand on the small of your back. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m okay,” You laugh it off.

When you sit, you feel eyes on you, and you know who they belong to.

Your husband.

“John, we should talk,” You turn your head, dropping your fork.

“And that’s our cue,” Jackson nods to Lucy who stands with the man to leave to another table.

“What’s wrong? I thought everything was okay.”

“It is,” You grab his hand. “I took a test this morning.”

“A test? What— like, like a pregnancy test?” His eye brows shoot to his hairline. He was surprised, to say the least.

“Yeah,” You look down. “It was positive.”

“Really?” John lets out a breath.

“If you don’t want this, I understand,” You tilt your head. “You’re still just a rookie, and—“

“No,” John shakes his head with a big grin bloomed across his face. “I mean, I’ll admit, it’s terrible timing, but I couldn’t be more happier.”

You let out a big sigh of relief that has John laughing along with you.

“Good. Because I don’t know what I would have done, had you said you didn’t want this baby.”

“I would never say that to you, or anyone, for that matter.”

You smile up at him, placing a kiss on his jaw.

“We’re gonna have a baby,” John whispers.

“Yeah,” Your eyes water a bit, stupid hormones. “We are.”

[witch-hazels-musings]

a gesture

Warning -> fluff | reader gets a blister on their foot, genshin men notice and provide respite from the discomfort | pre-relationship (it's silly, and dumb, but let me have this)

Includes: Diluc, Xiao

Character X GN Reader (adventure guild reader*) | Anthology

A-N: I was planning on writing for a few more characters, but I'm a bit slow in my genshin right now, plus I *should* be resting ... 人(_ _*)

Diluc

"Be right there!" you shouted over the calls echoing in the hall. Your hand dropped from your lips and back to the stack of rolled papers in your arms. The guild was busier than normal. Perhaps it was because of the snow fading from the streets, or the warmer wind blowing in from the south. Being surrounded by the lake meant damper and colder winters, but you didn't mind.

You loved the snow.

What you didn't love was returning to restrictive shoes now that the cobblestone streets were less barred by ice. You missed your warm fur-lined boots.

"Hey, got a few more requests for you to review," you told one of the auditors as you leaned onto the polished wood counter that separated you from the workers just inside. You tapped the toe of your shoe on the floor to force room between your heel and the leather rubbing against it. "Oh, and this came from Alfry." You reached into your pocket and handed a folded, sealed letter to the attendant.

After waiting for several minutes, and shifting from one foot to the other - relief waning and waxing - you made your way outside toward the Kiosk near the front of Mondstadt. It took a while, you were particularly slow on the stone steps of the city since each one put added pressure on your heels. You could feel a blister on the horizon.

Katheryne greeted you with a wave when she saw you.

She was, without a doubt, one of your favorite people. She didn't lock you in long, uninteresting conversations about her life outside of work. She just thanked you for the updated commissions and let you be on your way. You wished everyone was like Katheryne.

It wasn't that you hated talking to people. You just preferred to get your work done and found it distracting to get lost in small talk about the weather. But you learned to be pleasant and control your drifting eyes that willed your soul to be anywhere but there.

When you approached the Guild, someone called you over and explained you were being requested in one of the assessment rooms. A room used by evaluators and requestors to work out the details of a commission. You weren't an evaluator - so who could possibly be asking for you?

You imagined several scenarios except for this one. The one where Diluc Ragnvindr was standing on the other side of the door, waiting for - you. In fact, you were so unprepared, taken aback, that you rechecked the room number.

It was odd to see Diluc outside of his normal patterns. The man was routine. Days spent at Angels Share, days absent from the city while he tended to his estate at the Dawn Winery. You had several run-ins with him over the years since his reappearance, but they were always in public spaces. Fleeting, nervous moments when you'd gather the courage to ask him for a drink while he worked or make polite - short - conversation when he dropped it off. You didn't even know he knew you worked at the Adventurers Guild.

"Sir Ragnvindr, is something - how can I help you?" you asked as you stepped inside the room and let the heavy door close behind you.

"Have I pulled you away from your work?"

"Yes," you said but caught yourself, "No. I mean, yes, but it's alright. Are you alright?" The thought crossed your mind that perhaps something had happened. An issue at the Winery or the tavern, maybe he thought you were the best person to help him? Not sure why. But you did know a lot of adventurers.

"I am well. Please," he gestured to the table and chairs beside him. Crossing the room, you noticed a tall, decorative bag on the corner of the table. The top was knotted by someone with experience. Diluc placed his hand on the table, and you stopped a few feet from him. He looked -- odd. Out of sorts even.

"Did you need something from the Guild? I'm not sure if anyone told you, but I'm not an evaluator, but I can find someone who can assist you in building a commission report."

"I do not require one. I am ..." he clenched his jaw and fumbled. "Please, sit," he repeated, gesturing to the chair slightly pulled out beside you.

Confused, you took a seat.

You considered yourself a rational person, a relatively calm person. One that could keep their head in most situations, but when the man you could hardly look at long enough to breathe knelt in front of you, lifted your calf, and began to untie your shoe, you yelped so loud it startled him.

"Dilu- I mean, Sir Ragnvindr, what are you doing!?" You reached for his arm but pulled back at the last second. A war raged inside your mind - one billowing urge shouted to push him away so you could steady your fluttering heart, and the other shrieked, terrified of making contact out of fear he'd know the truths of your unsettled heart.

"These are uncomfortable, are they not?"

You glanced at your shoes. "I mean - yes, but you don't have to worry about it. Please," you begged, fingers hovering above his hand, body fighting the will to rip free from his grasp. "Sir Ragn-"

"Diluc," he interrupted and looked up at you, "I much prefer when you call me Diluc."

You didn't know how to respond, didn't know how to react, so you just sat frozen while he carefully removed your shoes and tended to the wounds they had caused.

His touch was warm. Violently warm. It was like heat seeped from every bit of him. Tendrils of flames licked across his brow, his cheeks, his jawline. You were so close you could smell the earth and trapped dust from the melting snow trapped in his clothes.

He placed the bandage across your foot and carefully wrapped it until it was secure.

"T-Thank you," you mumbled. You were stuck between being embarrassed by what was happening and being smitten by it. You were in a haze. Your eyes could barely focus on his hands as he worked, barely noticing the stick he placed beside your right foot. The medicine he applied had soothed the soft burn of the blister.

He stood and a wave of his scent washed over you. It took a moment for you to catch your breath, but when you did, you reached for your shoes that he had placed on the table.

"I'll repay you for the treatment."

"No need," he replied as he tugged at the decorative cloth bag. His back blocked you from what was inside. You worked on stretching the laces of your shoes so you could slip them over your foot. Just as you were about to place them on, Diluc returned and stalled your actions, taking the shoe from you and returning it to the table. He easily held your calf and slipped on another shoe. A flat, wide one that wouldn't rub against you the way your own had. "How does it fit?" he asked as he carefully slid it over your heel and adjusted it until it was on completely.

The shoe was elegant, beautiful. Something you would only dream of buying - most of your clothes were from sales and take-bins of neighbors doing their yearly cleaning. These were --

"Wait - did you buy these?"

"I did. But I was unaware of your size. If these are not satisfactory, I purchased several others which may be more suitable for you," he explained and that's when you noticed the stack of boxes now exposed from the cloth bag. Two boxes were placed to the side, another still in it, while the last was open, the lid placed at an angle as if forgotten.

"You bought," you paused, disbelief pulling in your brows, "multiple pairs?"

"It seemed better to purchase multiple than to guess. Though I could have inquired from you directly," he trailed off as if the thought had only just crossed his mind.

But only one crossed yours, "Why?"

He looked up at you, still kneeling and preparing your other foot to accept your new shoes' partner, "I notice you. You would be unable to work in this state."

"Noticed me?"

"Yes. Besides, I couldn't rightfully ... never mind."

"What," you blurted, hanging on his every word.

He glanced at you and then looked back at your feet. There was a pause, a heavy pause in the air. "To see you in discomfort. It - It did not sit well with me."

You sat in silence as he ensured the shoes fit, as he laced them, and made sure they wouldn't irritate the bandage. You held your tongue and swallowed the pounding pressure in your chest when he lifted you from the chair and made sure you could stand before he let go.

You breathed him in while he stood before you.

"I will be at Angel's Share tonight. I can set aside some time for you, should you find yourself-"

"Okay," you blurted again, followed it up with an embarrassed sorry. It made him laugh, and you snatch the lurching urge to jump on him.

"Until then," he hummed, a smile tugging at his lips. "Do not rush in the meantime. I have already given my recommendations to the guild to allow you rest, though I do not imagine you'll heed it."

Diluc packed up the bag and bid you farewell, lingering his voice on the sound of your name, his eyes on your warm face. He slipped out of the room and left you in disbelief in a pair of beautiful crimson shoes.

--

Xiao

Why did you decide to wear these shoes?

You thought at least twenty times as you trudged down the path. As you hiked over the mountain passes that had seen better days in their time. A giant bolder blocked you a few paces back and you were still brushing yourself off from the unprepared scramble; you found a tear in your clothes and groaned.

For an adventurer, you got off pretty lucky. Only taking the low-priced requests. Ones left for running between towns, helping clear out someone's back room, or helping with a shipment. You weren't interested in the daring adventures that some in the guild would take, snatch up before you even had a chance to read the whole thing. And you certainly weren't about to follow in the footsteps of that strange traveler who - for a while - was accused of killing the Liyue Archon. (You still had your suspicions).

Nope, you were complacent, content with the simple jobs that helped you keep the lights on and splurge on the things that caught your eye. One of which was currently on your feet and digging into the skin uncomfortably. You hopped on one foot and shoved your finger inside the edge of the shoe in the hopes of stretching out the tight leather.

The top of the path crept over the horizon and you picked up the pace to reach it. You adored cresting the hill and seeing the harbor stretch across the bay, how the tall mountainside loomed above her - a watchful guardian, a shield and protector. You sighed and adjusted the pack on your back. The road into the harbor wasn't long, but it was steep, and you prepared yourself for a rough descent with your aching feet.

Every step slowed you down. Each one more uncomfortable than the last. You thought about taking off your shoes but didn't want to catch the disapproving glares that came from Liyue's citizens. So, you pushed forward.

A plume of green and black smoke enveloped you. You would have shouted but you were used to the sensation and how it obscured your view. Months ago you stumbled upon the smoke's owner in a field. He seemed injured so you went to check on him only to learn he was fine, and rather unappreciative of your concern - actually, he was irritatingly annoyed that you had distracted him from his lay-about.

"Hello, little Xia--woah!" Instead of appearing near you like he had before, you were suddenly floating in the green smoke. It whipped through your hair, tugged at your loose clothes, and bit at your skin. You felt like you were falling, and then you were - into the arms of the Adeptus who normally kept his respectful distance from you.

When your eyes adjusted to the return of light, you twisted to look at him, one arm draped over his shoulders as if he had placed it there.

"What are you-?" The words caught in your throat. Confusion, surprise, and bashful bewilderment tickled your cheeks and stole your ability to speak. Your face was inches from him. Closer than it ever had been before.

"You're injured," he spoke softly, matter-of-factly, his eyes drifting to your feet. You could already see the broken skin around your heel.

"It's nothing. Just my shoes," you explained as you stared at your own feet as if that explanation meant anything to him.

"Hold on," he said as he held you to him and the two of you disappeared into a puff of ethereal phthalo.

--

Xiao placed you on the small stool you had left out on the balcony the night before. He was careful to not let you crash into it. His strength - despite his size - was easy to sense as he eased you onto it and waited for you to settle.

"Thanks," you hummed, stealing a peek at his eyes. Eyes the shade of ginkgo trees in fall, eyes that held eons of history and centuries of sadness. Xiao didn't speak much, but his searching and timid eyes quenched your thirst for his voice.

He lifted your leg and you covered your mouth to avoid making a noise. Before you could ask him a question, he withdrew into his haze and was gone. You sat motionless for only a few seconds, and contemplated entering your house as you, in a daze, took off your shoes but when you rose to leave, Xiao reappeared holding a small container.

"For your injury. It's important to - take care of yourself," he mumbled the last part of his sentence as he held the container out to you. Averting eyes, open fingers unmoving, waiting for you to take it.

Your fingertips brushed his skin. "Did you get this for me?" He crossed his arms and didn't answer but his actions still made your chest warm and lips pull into a giddy smile.

"Don't dally," he scolded and threw you a sharp stare, "Or you'll be left with a scar."

"Oh right." You nodded and uncapped the container. The salve held a potent medicinal scent. "You don't have to stay," you added, a little sad at the thought of him leaving but recognizing that he didn't enjoy the sights and sounds of the city. His avoidance one of the many secrets locked in the amber of his soul.

"I'll wait."

You opened your mouth to protest but he turned his back to you, crossed his arms. Watched, observed. Protective.

"Thank you, Xiao," you whispered and chuckled at the grunt that floated toward you from the Adeptus statue standing near the corner of your balcony.

--

[gorgeys]

Hi! Could you a Naomi x female reader, where her older brother works for Jordan and she meets Naomi at the party and gets a lil jealous when Jordan tries to hit on the reader? Thanks!

FRIENDS? ★ naomi lapaglia

Naomi Lapaglia (Wolf of Wall Street) x fem!reader

You quickly catch Jordan's eye at a party, but Naomi wants you all to herself...

Warnings: mentions of sex, flirting, corruption kink??, mentions of cheating

Word Count: 3110

Note: ayee i'm obsessed with naomi so i loved writing this request! there's also another naomi request that will be coming out shortly and that will def be a long one! i believe in margot robbie supremacy

b/n = brother's name

You stared in awe as you approached the mansion.  It was by far the largest house you had ever seen.  You looked to your brother and he only smiled.  It seems he was adjusting to the shift in your lives much faster than you.

He had only begun working for Jordan a couple months ago when rent was tight and there was barely any food in the fridge.  You had just moved in with him to help cut costs for the both of you as you sunk deeper into student loans and edged barely closer to your degree.  If things couldn’t get any worse, your brother was laid off from his job out of nowhere. He began interviews for practically every job on Wall Street when your luck changed tremendously.  He landed a job at Stratton Oakmont.

He climbed the ranks quickly.  You and your brother had quite a unique charisma, one that allowed you to manipulate many social situations in your favor and it was no different at Stratton.  With his charm and hard-working attitude, your brother was one of the few to have a personal connection with the founders of the company and he could feel that promotion coming.  But it was just out of reach.  So he quickly enlisted you to give him a little push.

There was an obvious shift in your lifestyle as soon as your brother got the job.  He was able to provide for the both of you plus decorate the apartment and take you out to lavish dinners.  Life just seemed so much brighter for the both of you.  So you would do anything to keep your lives like this.  Even if it meant playing this part.

It was the first time you’d be attending one of Stratton’s famous parties.  Your brother let you hang off his arm, dolled up in a completely brand new designer outfit, just how Jordan liked it.  Your dress was as short as it could be without being socially unacceptable and your neckline plunged so deep that your tits were nearly popping out.  Your heels were custom made and reeled in your flashy dress to make it a classy look.  Your make-up was done to a tee, emphasizing the soft features of your face, and your hair was curled into perfect waves.  Even your brother, who had teased you all your childhood, agreed you were a sight for sore eyes.  There was no way you wouldn’t catch Jordan’s attention.

Everything seemed to fall into place as you entered.  Eyes were on you from the moment you stepped inside, men in suits turning their heads to gape while their wives and girlfriends knocked them on the back of the head for looking.  You smiled just as you had rehearsed in the mirror and strutted as elegantly as you could muster even if you had to relearn to walk in those tall heels.

Most of the men you passed patted your brother on the shoulder in greeting, eyeing you up in the process.  Your brother had to reiterate several times that you were his sister, hoping he’d be able to avoid any risque comments about the two of you for the night.

You hid your excitement at the expensive environment, causally downing a champagne flute from a server, while you soaked up the extravagance of the house and the people.

It wasn’t long before your brother elbowed you in the side.

“Look, right over there,” he said, nodding his head to the left.  “That’s Jordan.”

When you looked, he was already staring back at you.  He leaned against the giant glass windows of the living room, a mystery drink in his hand.  He was wearing a suit but several of the buttons of his button up were undone, exposing his chest.  His hair was messy and his eyes were bloodshot.  While he was a little sleazier than you expected, you shouldn’t have been surprised considering the insane stories your brother had told you about his addictions to sex and drugs.

He was surrounded by a group of men who you could only assume were the founding members of the company.  They had noticed you from a mile away and you could faintly hear them talking about you and how badly they wanted to fuck you.  One even said he’d fuck you even if you were his sister.  You pretended not to notice as they shoved Jordan playfully, egging him on to approach you.  For the Wolfie to handle you, as they put it.

He confidently half-smiled at you before shifting his shoulders, fixing his suit jacket.  He sloppily ran his hand through his hair before he began walking toward you.  He sauntered arrogantly, as if he already had you in the palm of his hand, and his eyes ran all over you though he tried his best to hide it.

“B/N!  Good to see you,” Jordan exclaimed, stretching his hand out to give your brother a firm handshake.

“Hi, Jordan, great party,” your brother said with a smile.

“Yeah,” he dismisses your brother, his eyes quickly turning onto you.  “Now don’t be rude and introduce me to this lovely lady you’ve got here,” he said, nodding toward you, a smile stretching across his lips.

“This is my sister, Y/N.”

“Aah,” he sighs, his face lighting up with excitement.  “Sister,” he repeats, grinning widely.

“I just wanted to bring her along and show her what a Stratton party’s all about.”

“Nice to meet you, Jordan” you say, in a honey-sweet voice, showing your pearly whites.  You can tell he’s already hypnotized as you look up at him through your fluttering eyelashes with doe eyes.  You extend your hand toward him with the graceful flick of your wrist and he holds it so delicately.

“Nice to meet you, Y/N,” he says, lifting your hand to his lips and leaving a gentle kiss on the back of your hand.  Your smile widens accordingly as he refuses to let go of your soft skin.

“You know, you’ve got a really great place here.  I don’t think I’ve ever been in a house this big before,” you say, your eyes flicking up to the enormous glass chandelier above you that would certainly kill everyone in the room if it ever came crashing down.  You ignored that thought and looked back into his star-struck eyes with an excited gaze.

“Oh, really?” He raised his eyebrows, enjoying himself too much.

“Yeah,” you say, nodding along.

You wouldn’t have called him unattractive but he wasn’t really your type.  Either way you’d let him have one freaky night with your body in return for a large check deposited in your brother’s bank account.  You hoped he was a good lay but your instincts were telling you otherwise.

He shooed your brother away to go talk to some of the other guys while he entertained you, talking himself up and offering you several compliments.  It was when he stepped closer to you that his wife noticed the two of you from across the room.  She was sipping on her champagne and gossiping in a huddle of powerful wives when you caught her eye, your hand holding her husband’s for way too long.

She was no fool, she saw the way he looked at you, like he wanted to devour you.  She remembered that dangerous glint in his eyes from when she had first met him at a party like this one.  And we all know how that went.

She was ready to cause a scene, to impulsively confront him in the large crowd and beat him senseless with a glass bottle for even looking at another woman.  But something distracted her.

She had the perfect view of you from the side as you moved your free hand across your lower back.  Then your hand moved lower, lower, lower, gliding across your ass, smoothing out the fabric of your tight dress.  Naomi’s eyes were fixed.  Finally your fingers pulled lightly on the hem of your dress, trying to bring it down as it had rode up a little too high, showing off most of your bare thighs.

That’s when she stopped herself and decided to give you a closer look.  And that’s also when she realized she was no better than her husband.

You weren’t like any of the other women Jordan flirted with.  No, you were flawless.  Her eyes examined your figure and noticed how every curve of your body was carved so smoothly, so perfectly that she couldn’t look away.  She could only imagine the way your skin would feel beneath her fingers; she assumed it was soft and pliable. She imagined how each arch of your body would fit perfectly into her hands like you were molded just for that reason.  She wanted to admire you for the rest of the night. And it felt like you were enticing her, like you were asking for her touch in that low-cut dress.  It wasn’t hiding much but still, Naomi wished she could see more.

She realized that she could barely blame her husband for his reaction.  Your beauty was baffling and undeniable.  What could she expect from Jordan, a man who couldn’t hide his desires nearly as well as she could hide hers.

For a moment your eyes strayed away from his and you glanced in Naomi’s direction.  Your hand carelessly brushed your hair back and Naomi was slightly mesmerized.  She sucked her lips into her mouth, imprinting the features of your face into her mind, forgetting which reality she was in.

Her stomach churned, her body telling her brain that her need for you was innate.  The way your lips curved into a pure smile and your eyes were full of light made her want to ruin you.   She wanted to whisk you off to some far away place to have you only for herself.  She wanted to melt away that pretty facade and see what lurked beneath your shiny surface.

It was impossible for her to restrain her own thoughts as just a single look at you brought up such deep, impure desires.  She was no better than a man but you made her like that.

Her chest burns as Jordan leans impossibly closer to you, whispering something in your ear.  You giggle delightfully, comfortably holding on to his shoulder.  He takes that as a sign to wrap his arm around your waist, practically engulfing you with his body while his lips stay uncomfortably close to your ear.

Naomi couldn’t believe the audacity of her husband to throw himself onto you in public.  No, you deserved much better than to be smothered in sweat and cologne in front of all these important people.  You deserved someone who would treat you right and then, behind closed doors, someone who would treat you so wrong.  She knew her husband couldn’t do any of that for you.  You didn’t deserve him.

By then she had placed her glass onto a table with a little too much force and allowed her feet to carry her across the room.  She straightens up the neckline of her dress and clicks her heels into the ground with a purpose.  You deserved her.

“Jordan!” a thick Brooklyn accent cuts through the air.

It surprises you slightly but it seems to shock Jordan into action as he abruptly pulls away from you.  You’re left awkwardly standing alone as he steps back from you.  Your hands clutch onto the sides of your thighs for comfort.

“Naomi!  Baby!” he exclaims, outstretching his arms to the blonde thundering toward you.  He puts on a large smile and leans back comfortably as if he wasn’t just all over you.

She doesn’t accept his embrace but swats his hands away from her.  She moves to stand at his side.

“You gonna introduce me to your little friend here?” she says, motioning toward you with one of her hands.  Her voice is laced with an attitude that scares you.  You’re not quite sure if it's venomous but it’s definitely strong.  She turns to face you and plants her hands firmly on her hips.

“Oh, uh, yeah,” he stutters, looking nervously between the two of you.  “This is Y/N.  And Y/N-”

“I’m Naomi, Jordan’s wife,” she cuts him off.

You had heard stories about Naomi, about how her beauty transcended time, but you sure as hell weren’t expecting the masterpiece that stood before you.  You were rendered speechless for a moment, staring stupidly at her, your lips slightly parted.

Long blonde hair trailed down her shoulders, barely covering her thick gold hoop earrings.  Her face looked like it was sculpted by the gods, with a jawline sharper than a knife and pink lips that pursed curiously at you.  Her tight baby blue dress with a perfect cleavage cutout matched her blue eyes lined with thick eyeliner.

You couldn’t fathom how Jordan could cheat on her.  She was probably the most perfect human you had seen in your entire life.  And here you were trying to seduce her husband.

Her eyes aggressively ran up and down your body, soaking up every last drop of you.  They held some dark emotion behind them.  Using the context of the situation you assumed it was jealousy but she knew it was lust.  It was the first time that night you felt so small and so flustered, your confident facade fading away.

You hoped it wasn’t showing on your face but from the way her lips quirked upward as she extended her hand, you could tell she was enjoying your agitated state.

“Hi, Naomi,” you said, speaking a little quieter than you had with Jordan before.  You accepted her hand, expecting a tense shake, but her grip was even gentler than her husband’s.  In fact, her hands were the softest you had ever held.

She copied Jordan’s movements, just more delicately.  She brought your hand to her lips, leaning slightly forward to give the back of your hand a chaste kiss.  Her eyes didn’t leave yours the entire time, making your stomach bubble in forbidden arousal.  The gesture felt so intimate, as if no one else was watching.

If you weren’t in awe before, you were hypnotized now.  Her beauty was ethereal and from the way she handled you, you began to question her intentions with you.  Your perception of her as the jealous wife was slowly fading into the background.

If Jordan wasn’t your type, his wife surely was.

He looked between the two of you, completely unsure of what to say.  It seemed he was in quite a pickle as it seemed his wife’s unpredictable behavior would soon get in the way of his endeavors with you.

“You know, you’re a cute one, doll,” she said, her tongue slightly poking through her teasing smile.  Her strong accent only made every word out of her mouth even sexier, especially that pet name.  Doll.  You’d love to be her doll.

You felt your face heat up and your eyes ever so slightly widen.  You attempted to ignore the arousal you felt beneath your dress as your nails dug anxiously into the fabric of your dress.  You momentarily wondered whether you should thank her for the compliment before deciding against it.  Each reaction out of you only pushed her to continue, to test your limits.

“I almost don’t blame my husband for looking at you the way he does,” she said, her eyes momentarily shifting to your cleavage before focusing on the small twitches of your face again.

You took a sharp breath and opened your mouth wider like you wanted to respond and apologize but Jordan beat you to it.

“Come on, baby.  You know I only have eyes for you,” he whines and pouts like a child, leaning closer to her and wrapping an arm around her waist.  She instantly pushes him off of her, disgusted by his touch, without sparing him a glance.

All you want to do is walk away and distance yourself from this married couple’s petty quarrel but your feet seem too heavy to move.  You can’t help but love the way Naomi looks at you.

“But I can assure you he’s no fun,” she says, ignoring her husband’s pleading looks.   “Very vanilla, you know?  And he comes too fast.”  She whispers that last part like he’s not even there although he can clearly hear her.

Both you and Jordan share the same state of shock.  You can’t help but feel like you’re learning too much information about the couple you met a few minutes ago.  But the way Naomi speaks to you it feels like you’ve known her much longer.

“Uh, I-I’m sorry-” you begin but are quickly interrupted.

“Myself on the other hand,” she says, trailing off for a few moments.  She presses her lips together as if she’s looking through you, her thoughts taking her to far away places.  The glint in her eye is mischievous and you want her to take you with her.  “We can have lots of fun together.”

Your insides are screaming the moment the words leave her lips, her devilish smile only making the feeling worse.  You can only dream about what she’s implying and your imagination runs wild. You’re already putty in her hands, you both can feel it.

“What’d you say, you wanna be friends?” she says, her tone seemingly innocent.  But one look in those blue eyes would say otherwise.

“Friends?” you ask breathlessly.  You let your head hang low and your bottom lip push out toward her, silently questioning the meaning of the word.

“Yeah,” she says, smiling brightly.  But there’s a coy element about it.  “You wanna be my friend?”  Her eyes check you out once more just for emphasis.

There’s your answer.

The initial goal of seducing Jordan is long forgotten.  Quick cash seems irrelevant compared to the duchess before you, especially now that she seems within reach.  If you didn’t accept her offer you were sure you’d regret it.

You nod cautiously.

“Yeah, I’ll be your friend.”

She instantly beams at you with a conniving grin while internally congratulating herself for a mission accomplished.  You feel your lips reciprocate in a stunned smile.

“Good.  Let’s get you another drink, doll” she says, reaching out and grabbing your hand.  She tugs you behind her as she heads toward the home bar.  She gives you a raunchy look over her shoulder while you let her control your every movement.  “Then I can show you around.”

Your smile grows while Jordan is left standing stupidly by himself.  He curses under his breath, wondering how he fumbled so badly.

i'm screaming

[tacobacoyeet]

pleaseee right more harry fluff!! heres a list of ideas i have, ofc if you don’t want to you don’t have to!!

-bf headcanons

-sfw alphabet

-him during umbridge detention and she like makes him watch y/n do the quill

-something going along to the song slut! by taylor swift ❤️❤️

and ofc js anything is fine😭

good harry writing is hard to find on this app

slut! | h.p.

a/n: a short and sweet little fic based off of my interpretation of slut! by taylor swift. it might be a tad too on the nose but @ssturniolo92 i hope i did your request justice!

warnings: there are a lot of different harry personalities across tumblr- this is my interpretation of him. cursing, harry james potter being just the best as always, a touch angsty, NOT PROOFREAD!

beautiful hues of gold, white, silver, and all sorts of colors were the first things that caught your attention as you stepped into the yule ball. your hand held harry’s arm as your heels clicked on the floor. you were dressed in a beautiful aquamarine gown, which glittered in the candlelight of the stunningly decorated ballroom. the chatter in the room grew quiet as everyone’s stares locked on you and your boyfriend… the coveted hogwarts triwizard champion. there was not much time for you to survey the room before professor mcgonagall steered you and harry off for the champion’s waltz, but it was enough time for your ears to catch the whispers. whispers of how harry looked ‘absolutely ravishing,’ how your dress was ‘...certainly a choice,’ and whispers of how you were probably only ‘using harry… what a slut!’ you sighed deeply, forcing yourself to stand tall as the two of you took to the dance floor.

“look at me,” he whispered, forcing you to meet his eyes as he guided you around the dance floor.

“it’s just you and me.”

you smiled weakly at him. what else could you do? a gaggle of girls nearby whispered loudly about what they would’ve done to be on harry’s arm for the night.

“god, he’s just devastatingly handsome, isn’t he?” one of them asked, eliciting a cacophony of giggles.

he sighed softly, taking notice of the thin layer of tears in your eyes. suddenly, he pulled you close, into his chest.

“i’m all yours.”

~

a little later in the evening, you found yourself several drinks in, a soft buzz coursing through your body as you people-watched, but all you could think about was how much you loved your boyfriend. you’d been dating for almost a year now, and the two of you truly couldn’t get enough of each other. when he first asked you out, you told him he was making a mistake.

“dating someone like me is going to blow up in your face, harry! people like you don’t date people like me.”

he never took that as an answer, though. and to be fair, it didn’t exactly blow up in his face as much as it had in yours. the whispers, the rumors, they were all an attack on you. but that was a price you were willing to pay for the man you loved to never pay it himself- but that was just because he was the boy who lived.

your thoughts ran rampant as the alcohol flowed through your body, leaving a fire in its wake. you glinted your eyes as you surveyed the room. you’d cry about the people that hated you later. right now? you looked fine as hell, and you intended to do something about it.

it wasn’t long until you had found harry and planted a deep, long kiss on his lips. 

“what was that for?” he asked, a small smirk on his lips. 

“i got all dressed up and i look amazing. i don’t care what people are saying about me, or you, or us, because they’re looking at us and how great we look and that’s all that fucking matters.” you slurred ever so slightly, a determined smile on your face.

“you’re drunk as hell, gorgeous.” harry laughs softly, his hand softly caressing your cheek.

“and i love you so. damn. much.”

you spent the rest of the ball in his arms, in the center of the dance floor, much to harry’s happiness. he loved showing off his partner, but he cared about your feelings more than anything, so he never wanted to do anything that would shine the spotlight on you too much, as he knew that most of the time, the words of others really did impact you.

a few hours later, he held your hair back as you knelt over a toilet, the alcohol you boldly downed earlier making its way back up.

“is it really worth it to get this drunk, love?” he smiled softly at you, planting a kiss on your head as he rubbed your back.

“for once?” you started, “it was. and if i’m going to be drunk… i might as well be drunk in love.”

[mmhcs]

Miguel O'Hara x Tall!Reader

A/N: (I haven't seen many fics covering this topic so I thought that I'd throw my hat in the ring today). This is dedicated to all the tall girls out there! Y'all are beautiful and amazing!

Warnings: Slightly suggestive, but mostly SFW focus on legs, reader is female(if you'd like to see a gender-neutral version, please let me know!), reader is described as having a curvier lower body (only at one point, though), Miguel is absolutely head-over-heels for reader (pun-intended!)

Okay, y'all. Look at this man. He is 6'9". Big. Very big. Often times, he's the biggest person in the room. Tall and intimidating. And while he likes that (he is the big, scary boss. Hear him roar!), there are times in which he wishes that there was somebody who could relate to him. Like, do you know how hard it is to find shoes at 6'9"?

Now, don't get him wrong, Miguel loves women of all shapes and sizes. Short, tall, average height, skinny, chubby - he doesn't care. But when he saw you? It was like he had a spiritual awakening. Seeing you walk down the hallways of the Spider Society, suit hugging your curves...It did something to him.

Especially when he saw the mold of your legs. For the first time in a long time, Miguel felt himself getting a little nervous. Never had he seen another Spider dominate the room like you did. During your first few days, people used to stare whenever you entered the room - not out of fear as they did with him - but out of awe. You were gorgeous but your height - it just took you over the top.

From your first day forward, all Miguel would hear about is you.

"Did you see the new Spider?" "Yeah, she's really tall! What do you think she does in her professional life? Model?" "Oh my gosh, look at her! She looks good in that suit!"

Whenever you and Miguel would have conversations, he found it hard to focus. First, you have a stunning face but those legs? Oh, he was a goner. Though he had only seen you with in your Spider-suit, Miguel couldn't help but take a liking to your legs. Your thighs, though comprised of muscle - jiggled when you walked, and your calves looked as firm as his demeanor on a bad morning. Miguel had never had a thing for legs before (or at least not to his knowledge) but now he found himself fascinated by your legs and their length and angles. He could spend days worshipping the curvature between your calves and thighs.

When Miguel finally does see you out of uniform? He needs to leave the room. Don't ask why, he just does.

When you two finally start dating, Miguel can't take his eyes off of you. All he can do is stare (mainly at your legs) and thank Padre Dios that he managed to pull you into his life.

But, while what initially made you stand out to Miguel was your height, it actually doesn't play that big of a role in your relationship. As time goes on and lust simmers into love, you and Miguel are just a regular couple.

Though he doesn't spend much time in his home (or didn't until you), Miguel's space is tailor-made for him. Meaning chairs, couches, tables, and shelves big and high enough to accommodate him and his height. While a small thing to note, he's glad that he finally has someone doesn't find issue with it all.

Miguel is aware of the of the stereotypes and jabs thrown at girls of your stature and so he does his best to constantly remind you that you are beautiful, attractive, feminine, etc.

If you're shorter than him (doesn't even matter if it's an inch), he likes to crack short jokes with you here and there.

"Bebita, come look at this!" Miguel yells from his in front of your bedroom's television. "What is it, Miguel?" you ask, peaking your head out of the bathroom. "They say it's going to be windy today," He juts his chin towards the TV screen before refocusing on tying his tie. "Take precaution." "Miguel," you scoff. "What? I don't want you getting swept up by the wind." "Okay, firstly, you know damn well-"

If you're taller than him, Miguel also has jokes for that.

"Bebita, could you please pass me that plate over there?" Miguel asks, pointing his chin at a cabinet shelf that is directly at eye level with him. "Miguel," you give him a pointed look. He shrugs at you, continuing to wash the dishes. "Hey, don't put things up so high if you don't want me to ask you to get them." (For the next week, you started putting all the dishes in the bottom drawer)

The jokes, however, are only reserved for him. If anyone else makes a joke about your height, Miguel gets upset. Just ask Hobie. One time, Hobie asked you how you couldn't tell him what the weather was like from up there (all in good fun) and Miguel, who had no context of the conversation and walked in at the wrong time almost crucified him.

Miguel secretly loves how you two look together. As the head of the Spider Society (again, he likes to be the big, scary boss man), he enjoys the presence that you two create together. Domineering, commanding. Whether you two are in uniform or formal clothing - when you two talk, people listen.

If you work out, Miguel loves to go to the gym with you. Not only because he likes to see you in workout gear (though trust him, that is a very, very, very big plus) but because he finally has somebody who understands the struggle of putting on (visible) muscle.

Miguel loves kisses with you. He's always been very big physical touch in relationships but never before has it been so easy to just steal a kiss. And so, it has been become his favorite pastime.

Miguel loves to see you in dresses and shorts and heels. Anything that accentuates your height. Sometimes when you come home, you see a dress or a new pair of shoes that you've been wanting. However, other times, you find an article of clothing or shoes from a brand that you didn't even know existed. But if it's jeans or a maxi dress, they always cover your legs, if it's a regular shirt, your stomach isn't exposed, and whatever it is always looks good on you.

Sometimes when cuddling, Miguel will just start tracing and/or kneading random parts of your body because there's just so much of you to love and he doesn't know where to start.

At the end of each and every day, no matter if you're taller or shorter than him, Miguel likes to make you feel safe and protected. He likes to play the role of protector/provider and makes you feel taken care of and comfortable.

Bonus: "Your children are going to be some stallions, ain't they?" Hobie says, looking between you and Miguel. You laugh but Miguel glares at him with a scowl that would make most start running for the hills. "Stallions, eh?" you repeat later that night, in bed with him. While not a fan of you slowly assimilating to Hobie's humor, Miguel chuckles dryly and pulls you closer to him. "Indeed," he says, placing a kiss to the top of your head.

[obitez]

Little Bo Peep

written for @bucktommywinterfest

Round 13: Meet cute and different jobs

Rating: G | Word Count: 1732

Additional Tags: No firefighters

Warnings: None

When Tommy got out of the Army, he could have moved anywhere in the United States and probably qualified for a wide assortment of jobs. Aircraft mechanic, car mechanic, supply manager, truck driver, and heavy equipment operator for various construction equipment. Tommy never got around to being certified on cranes though, shame. 

He ended up moving to a small beach town about two hours north of Los Angeles, when his uncle offered to let him take over his old bookstore - and it was probably one of the few jobs the Army didn’t train him for. 

Tommy didn’t know a thing about owning, running, and managing a bookstore. Had never even worked in one. Sure, he was a reader and read a lot of books, but the books he read were… not that popular with the general population. 

He doubted there were that many enjoyers of Napoleonic War dramas and biopics. At least in the states. Most of the online forums and reddit pages consisted of people in the UK. 

Although his uncle had told him that delivery services like Amazon and the like hadn’t moved into the town yet so the store was still the main supplier of books for the town, and if he listened to the book clubs that used the table in the back as their meeting location, they would give him the lists of up and coming books from all genres that he needed to keep in stock. 

And looking at the finances for his first official month as owner, he guessed his uncle had a point. 

That didn’t mean the whole thing was easy however, far from it. 

“I don’t think your parents will be that pleased if I sell this book to you,” Tommy told the nine year old girl as she placed the book on the sale counter. The book itself was a raunchy romance novel with a deceiving cover filled with cats and puppies. Tommy never expected to become a romance reader after moving here, but the book club that met Monday evenings pulled him into being one. 

“They said that I can read whatever books I want,” the girl countered. 

“And I think when they said that they implied any children’s book you want.”

“It’s called Puppy Love and has a bunch of puppies on it. How’s that not a children’s book?” the girl asked. 

“It’s not a children’s book because you got it from the adult section, that’s located all the way upstairs,” Tommy pointed to the stairwell that led to the upstairs bookcases. The bookcases Tommy specifically remembered restocking that book with that very morning. 

The girl huffed, a frown on her face and spun on her heel to go back to a shelf in the young adult section. Tommy picked up the book she had left and placed it on a shelf under the counter, filled with other books that he would need to restock once the customers left.

Then, ten seconds later, another person came up to the counter, setting down five books to purchase. So much for a short break. 

Halfway through the afternoon, there was a short spall when there were only five customers in the store. When Carlos, the highschooler he had hired to help around on his free afternoons came by, Tommy took the opportunity to leave the register to him and get started on the various tasks he needed to complete around the shop. 

“So you’re the new guy that Mr. Paul was talking about?” a voice sounded from behind him as he was restocking the shelves in the cookbook section. 

Tommy turned around and looked up. 

There stood a tall guy, maybe a half inch shorter than him, shirt curly hair gelled back, blue green eyes, and big muscles. 

“I take it you’re talking about my uncle?” Tommy asked. 

“Yeah,” The guy nodded, and Tommy spotted a small birthmark right above one of his eyebrows. It was cute. “He was telling me that he was about to retire and give the place to his nephew, I just didn’t…”

“Expect his nephew to look like me?” Tommy asked. The man was silent for a second, opening and closing his mouth like a fish out of water. Tommy laughed. “Don’t worry,” he said. “You’re not the first person to say it.”

Half of the old ladies who came in the first week he was running the place said the same thing. What was a man with his looks and muscles doing running a bookstore out in this town? He should be down south in LA, hitting up all the bars and clubs down there.

“Y- yeah… oh… yeah, what you said,” the man continued, stammering over his own words, looking way out of his element. 

 📚  📚  📚  📚  📚

Buck looked at the small unassuming bookstore from where he stood in the cafe across the street. When he had been driving through the sleepy seaside town five years ago he had run low on cash, he had walked into the cafe and asked about the help wanted sign taped on the front window. Five years later and he was still there, and had made friends and a pseudo family with people throughout the town. 

One of the people he had come to regard as a friend was the owner and runner of the bookstore across the street, who had told him a couple of months ago that he was retiring and going to move to be closer to his sister in Oregon, and leaving the store to his nephew, who no one in the town had met before. 

Buck didn’t know how he should feel about it. Leaving one of the most popular shops in town to some stranger. 

“Have you met the guy who took over the bookstore, yet?” Buck asked as they were setting up one morning, pulling the outdoor tables outside. 

“Guy that took over the bookstore?” Eddie asked as he carried a set of chairs outside. 

“Yeah,” Buck nodded. “The old owner retired and moved out, gave the place to his nephew.” 

Eddie shrugged. “I only go there when Christopher needs to get a book for school,” he said. “Haven’t been there since like… last October or something like that.” 

Buck hummed to himself as he looked across the street at the store. It didn’t look any different, the same as it had since he moved to this town. He would have to go over there once he got off shift and meet the new man for himself. 

He and Eddie ended their shift around 2:30, and while Eddie drove down the street to the elementary school to pick his son up, Buck made his way to the bookstore across the street. 

Buck opened the door and heard the same bell chime that had sounded the numerous times he had come here over the previous years. The inside of the store looked the same as well. Same signs above the bookshelves, same sales counter, the only things that were really different were the books that were on the featured and new releases shelves. But those shelves always showed something different every time Buck came in. 

Buck spotted a disinterested guy who was clearly a teenager standing behind the counter, he vaguely recognized him from around town and guessed that he wasn’t the guy who had taken the store over. Then his gaze traveled upwards to the second story, seeing a man, probably a couple years older than him, unloading books from a box and setting them onto one of the bookshelves. 

Buck walked up the stairs and then studied the man for a second before going over to talk to him. He was kneeling on his knees, but Buck guessed he would probably be around his height if he stood up. He was also pretty muscular, a lot more than Buck would assume any bookstore owner would have any need to be. 

But then again, maybe he did? Books got heavy after a while, didn’t they? 

Buck cleared his throat as he walked up to the bookshelf and Buck saw the man’s shoulders perk up. “So… you must be the guy Mr. Paul was talking about?” Buck asked.  

The man turned his head and shoulders to look up at Buck, raising an eyebrow he asked, “I take it you’re talking about my uncle?” 

“Y- yeah,” Buck stammered, suddenly growing nervous as he felt the man study him. “H- he was telling me that he was about to retire and give the place to his nephew, I just- I didn’t…

“Expect his nephew to look like me?” the man said as he let out a soft laugh and stood up from where he was stocking the books. Buck got a better look at him now. And if possible, Buck thought he looked better than he had before. Buck stumbled over his words, and the man laughed again. “Don’t worry,” he said. “You’re not the first person to say that.”

Oh, that made Buck feel slightly better, he thought. 

“Y- yeah… oh… yeah, what you said,” Buck said as he still stumbled over his words. 

The man then held out his hand to him. “Tommy Kinard,” he said as he introduced himself. 

Buck took it as he shook the man’s, Tommy’s, hand. “Evan Buckley,” he said. 

Tommy smiled then, and Buck thought it was a nice smile. Buck thought that he would like to see it more often. “Nice to meet you, Evan.”

Buck couldn’t even find it in himself to tell the man he didn’t go by Evan.

 📚  📚  📚  📚  📚

“So, Evan,” Tommy started as he walked up to the front counter of the cafe the following morning. Buck perked his head up from where he was cooking up an omelet behind the counter. “What would you recommend here?” 

Buck smiled as he turned his head to face Tommy. “Well, Bobby’s not here today, so I’m head chef.” 

Tommy’s face took on that soft smile it had yesterday. “So what would you recommend then?” he asked. 

Buck hummed in thought. “I thought up this apple waffle recipe yesterday, would you like to be my guinea pig?” 

“Why not?” Tommy said as he took a seat. “Let me see ‘em.” 

“He calls you Evan?” Eddie asked later as Tommy walked back across the street to the bookstore. 

Buck rolled his eyes. “So what?” he asked, only slightly blushing.

[empthy1]

AFTER MIDNIGHT ꩜ .ᐟ quinn fabray x reader

character study (partially.) loved writing this. butch!reader implied, i hope my love for butches comes through. 1.75k words exactly.

Her momma always said that bad girls were the ones who ended up in nightclubs, indulging in alcohol and not God's teachings. The girls like that never found good husbands and never formed the families they were meant to. That's what she always said.

It was frequently hissed in her ear, the unfamiliar curl of the word "heretics" confusing her yet nestling unpleasantly in her mind.

Her momma made her promise she'd never become one of those girls. Would be pious, follow the Gospel, and find a God-fearing husband.

So, little Lucy Quinn Fabray, all of seven and sat on her momma's knee, did the only obvious thing when confronted with her seemingly imminent future.

She murmured a soft "yes, momma," and clutched tighter at her momma's modest yellow cardigan.

She was immediately chastised for that. There wasn't much she wasn't reprimanded for.

"Don't call me 'momma'." Her momma mother had huffed, pretty face tightening with annoyance and the hypocritical smell of alcohol on her breath. The line of her mouth thins contemplatively. "You make me feel old enough already. And don't wrinkle my clothes. I'll have to steam this. Again."

Now, some sixteen years later, here she was—going against the words she'd held as gospel for so long.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

She nervously smooths down her too-short dress, trying to tug it past her upper thigh. She's not very successful. The amount of sequins sewn onto the garment would make her father red-faced and Kurt proud. She'd know—he picked it out for her.

"Please, Quinn. You have to get this one! It'd look so good on you." Is all she remembered before having the pink silk thrown at her. She had squawked indignantly at the impact, the hanger hitting her temple and catching in her hair.

Despite her (and Santana's) protests—"Oh, you are not letting Jesus Girl wear my nice dress from Sacs!"—she ended up in the form-fitting fabric regardless.

They hadn't even bothered to accompany her, leaving her to traverse her first club alone.

Sure. She was Quinn Fabray. HBIC, Head Cheerio, ex-Skank and a generally competent person. But she was competent in Nowhere, Ohio. Or in the friendly town of college students and old people that was New Haven. Sure, it was the third biggest city in Connecticut, but it was Connecticut.

This was New York City. This was shady alleys, dark, dank corners and the widest variety of people she'd ever seen.

The people in front of her in line were two obviously gay and already intoxicated men. At eleven at night.

The person behind her? A woman so tall and in heels so high she's sure if she turned around she'd make eye contact with her stomach.

She's not used to these types of people. This type of place.

The bouncer is burlier than ninety-nine percent of guys she sees at Yale—nice Polos and slim, toned arms replaced by a regular black tee, a... leather harness and arms like boulders. He scowls where they smile, but his hands are gentler when he takes her ID than they'd been with her. Hm.

She's visually assaulted by bright lights of every color. They flash against the wall and in her eyes, periodically illuminating the people around her.

Some taller than her, some shorter. Some slim like a willow with curling limbs, others sturdy with strong hands and a solid stance. Men, women, people who's gender she can't discern, with long hair, cropped cuts or anything in between in any color she could imagine.

She doesn’t have long to take in any of this. There’s a swell of people at her back and a melting pot at her front. She’s been here before, knows the rules—acclimate or die. Same as high school.

She’s seen the movies. She knows what’s supposed to happen. She’ll walk up to the bar, order a drink, and a handsome, tall man will hop out of nowhere and pay for it. A couple months of nondescript dating, they’ll be married.

Not exactly how her mother hoped it’d happen, but she won’t be too disappointed. She’ll just be glad Quinn is married and she can finally talk about her in church without the pitying coos of other moms.

All she can think is "yeah, scratch that." when the person who saddles up next to her is not a charming, dark-haired man with dimples and is, instead, the most handsome woman she's ever seen grinning at the bartender over her shoulder.

"Yeah, Mike. She's on my tab. Thanks, man." A regular, clearly. And... not the man she expected. Not a man at all.

She'd always thought wry smiles and crooked grins were inherently smug. They'd always been on the faces of boys trying to trick their way into her skirt, thinking themselves clever.

But this grin, the one you direct at her? She likes it more than she should.

"I haven't seen you around here before." Your voice is loud, elevated over the pulsing music. You'd turned to face her, elbow on the bar and strong-looking hand under your chin.

"You're either new to the city or new to the queer scene."

...they sent her to a gay bar. She's going to wring Kurt's neck. And then apologize so he lets her stay in his apartment while she nurses this humiliation.

Is that why the bouncer was in leather?

"...yeah. I'm new to both. I'm here visiting friends." She's not used to raising her voice—it's unladylike, her mother would say. Women were to be seen, not heard. Her volume is low, too low to be heard over the deafening music.

You have to lean closer, shift and tilt your head so she can repeat herself straight into your ear. The music booms, but she swears she can hear you inhale when her hot breath brushes the cartilage. Or when she cups a bare bicep, leaning into the warmed skin.

She had to catch herself, she justifies. She definitely lost her balance.

Except for the fact that she can dance in six-inch platforms and these are only four. There's no way she'd be tripping into you, especially only one drink deep.

Speaking of dancing.

It might be the shot (or three) she'd downed while you two were conversing and laughing and flirting but she wanted to dance. She'd missed it. There isn't many places to go dancing in New Haven, and not many people she'd go with.

So she tugs your elbow, says something that's not much more than an enthusiastic, unintelligible giggle and tears off towards the floor. You stubble behind her, chuckling under your breath when she bumps into some guy. Evidently, you're better at holding your alcohol.

She knows the lessons from bible camp. She'd gone there seven years—they're practically ingrained in her psyche. The most important one, plastered on posters and said by any adult in hearing range at the Summer's End Dance?

Leave room for Jesus.

But alcohol's a funny thing. And her head's all wrong—she feels mushy.

She likes your biceps. And your hair. The ease at which she wraps in your arms, her own fingers curling around the back of your neck, is atypical of her.

And there's definitely no room for Jesus when the sturdy line of you presses right up against her.

She'd like to say it was the press of people keeping you together, but even through the intoxication she knows she's lying to herself. She likes you. It's weird. Even among cheerleaders, with teasing skirts and flouncy hair, she'd never felt... this.

The short crop of your hair is increasingly more appealing. The strength in your muscles, and the charming black slacks that hug you nicely draw her more than long, batting lashes.

There weren't people like you in Lima. A voice in her mind traitorously murmurs, sounding too much like Santana. Maybe that's why this took you so long, Q.

The beat's fast, but you're both too drunk to articulate anything more than a stationary sway.

That's fine with her. She gets to feel your arms around her waist and rest her head on your homely shoulder. The swaying motions keep her steady, stop the stumbling she's bound to do once she's out of your grip.

As songs go by, she starts to go down, down, down. Sobering up, yes, but not expecting the wave of drowsiness that comes with it. She clings to you ever tighter.

"I think I need to go home..." Is mumbled into your ear, her lilting, quiet tone laced with breathiness. It makes you shiver, and she bites back a grin. Your body shifts, supporting more of her weight to help her out of the club—hand splaying over her lower back. So she did find a gentleman tonight.

Once you both slip out of the club—though a backdoor you were totally allowed to use, ignoring the Employees Only sign—she smiles. The city air is cool, brushing over her skin and making her sigh. As you release her, she looses her footing, but is able to recover with a (still slightly tipsy) laugh.

"Get home safe, Quinn." She hears you murmur. A pleased sigh escapes her at the kiss you press to her cheek. Naturally leaning into the touch, she almost misses how you grasp her forearm—deftly scrawling a phone number in Sharpie, big enough to span the whole area.

"Call me." And then you're off. The bouncer gives you a wave as you stroll past, shooting you a grin once he catches sight of her.

Whew.

...should she call a taxi?

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

She stumbles up to Kurt's apartment door, firmly feeling the effects of the alcohol. Bracing against the doorframe, she can't help but huff as she drunkenly fumbles with the key. Not quite sober yet.

Opening the door causes her friends to freeze—Santana and Kurt being in the middle of putting up a... rainbow balloon arch?

"Oh, there's no way I was wrong. You weren't supposed to be here before morning! Why aren't you with a lady friend, Q?" Santana says, eyes narrowing with discontent at her arrival (typical) and at her... lack of a lady friend.

Santana sent her out to hookup with someone. With a woman. She tried to orchestrate her gay awakening.

She's too drunk to think about that. Or the fact that she did, in fact, have a gay awakening. She doesn't even say anything. She doesn't need to.

She just raises her forearm—dark with the digits of your phone number—and grins at the cheers she gets in response.

[goldsbitch]

short king

Lando's girlfriend is taller than him and the world seems to care a little too much. short blurb

Your and Lando's love language? Oh definitely physical touch. All the way in. Constantly either holding hands, small kisses, knees touching under a table, and later in the evening, tongues engaging in the tango of pleasure.

They say that the ideal combination is a black cat / golden retriever energy, which absolutely did not apply to the two of you. Lando was probably the cheekiest guy ever since Oscar Wilde roamed this planet, and your resting bitch face and "could not give a single fuck" attitude, made you the black cat couple of the paddock. No golden retrievers to be found. Unless you were completely alone. Shamelessly simping for each other like there was no tomorrow.

Lots of comments followed your relationship, as was expected. Most of them got dialed down, once people got used to seeing the two of you together and accepted your mutual happiness. The only one comment that stayed, was the one about his height. Or maybe your height.

You were not "supermodel level" kind of tall. But social media made the fact that you were slightly taller than him into a number one topic. To be honest, it really was not that hard to be taller than him. You personally never cared for that, but it would be a lie to say you hadn't wished for you to loose few centimeters somewhere along the way so that people would just finally shut up.

To be honest, you hadn't even taken into account that he was shorter than you when you met him. The connection you two had was overpowering from the start, his charisma luring you in and there was no way back. All of your previous boyfriends had been taller than you - and yet they suddenly counted for nothing. He was just so much it. Charming, laughing at your jokes, the two of you somehow speaking in a language no one else was able to catch up with. The way his incredibly unique eyes stared at you and the way how you understood immediately everything he was trying to hint at when speaking was too much to ignore. He did not need cheap tricks in form of his height to tower over you. He was so caught up in your word from the moment you'd said hello it was almost inevitable that you'd end up together. Whatever it takes.

And the best part? The one moment when height really stops being even a topic? When you're both lying down and he is full speed pounding into you. You'd always thought it would make a difference - it really didn't.

Him taking you into heights not discovered before was the one thing that always popped into your mind when someone made a comment about the height gap. Oh, if they only knew how good it feels to have him over you, gripping his muscular body while holding yourself from being a little too liberated and letting your voice getting louder than the neighbors would appreciate. You were never able to stop the imprudent smile escaping when a reporter mentioned the difference, because your mind went directly into your bedroom memories. Society would never allow it, but you wished you could scream out how good the physical balance of the two of you was, to make everyone understand and maybe even get a little jealous.

Lando could not care less if you wore heels or not. Ultimately proud boyfriend even encouraged you to show off your long legs, to walk next to him while being even more taller than you usually were. How could he not, since he knew well enough that he would be the one taking your shoes off once you're alone. He let you shine, because there was not an inch of insecurity in his mind, when he knew that you were his to leave speechless.

[honeycloudz]

let me be Anonymous since im going to ask-No beg for the cringest one🙏

(p1:who's she?

p2:Haitani's

p1: which one? the youngest's?

p2: nhh both of them)

I means Just image being the wife of Haitani brothers's/their precious and only treasure ofc their personal c*mdump tooTvT.

alr this's kinda weird but Writing this or not is your choice

anywayy Loves you and please takecare of yourself

-s🍁

Stargirl Interlude (☆)

Content Warnings: DARK CONTENT, MDNI, Porn with Plot, Toxic!Dom!Ran & Toxic!Dom!Rindou x Fem!Sub!Reader, Alcohol mentions, Stalking, Forced into Contract, Dub! Consent, Degradation theyre so mean :(,  Possessiveness, Dumbification, Unprotected Sex, Oral (Female to Male Receiving), Throat Fucking, Rough Sex, Hair pulling, Spit Play, Choking, Nipple Play, Overstimulation, and finally Squirting

Playlist: Belonging to the Haitani's

My apology for disappearing again, not proof read

You should know better, you tell yourself as you walk down the busy streets of Roppongi’s nightlife. You should know better than to play with the infamous Haitani brothers. Truthfully, you were just trying to get your life together, and money is money, so you took a chance on that sketchy ad from a week ago, unknowing that it would lead you here.

Squirming, you pull your mini skirt down, in a failed attempt to cover yourself from prying eyes as you walk your way down to the club. Even from a distance your eyes catch the glimmering signs, and you can feel the bass of the speakers beneath your high heeled feet. You get closer, to the club, noticing all the intoxicated people staggering in and out of the Haitani’s club in varying levels of inebriation. 

It was too late to have second thoughts, so you mentally prepare yourself as you take a step into the very lively club. Loud music blares in your ears as you squint and try to walk around the sea of bodies that are dancing. You don't necessarily like the thought of sweaty drunk bodies bumping and grinding up on you, so you choose to find an easier route. Looking around, you almost give up before sharp lavender eyes meet your own. Your breath hitches but you don't look away, you try to ignore the chill working its way up your spine at his menacing gaze. 

Seconds that feel like hours pass as you hold eye contact with the dual-dyed short purple haired man. You were intimidated but intrigued. 

And Ran saw that in you- he noticed you right when you walked in, all panicked and cute. He immediately knew that it was you from the ad you signed up for, he laughed under his breath a bit, you had no idea what you were getting into. 

He breaks eye contact with you momentarily to look at his brother in the booth. They make eye contact and Ran points at you with his chin, nodding off to his brother, to alert him of your presence. When Rindou follows Rans line of sight his eyes meet you and immediately Rindou stands, stalking his way towards you.

You didn't notice Rindou until you felt a hand on your shoulder, making you jump as you turned around and tilt your head up to meet the tall man. “Y/n…?” He questioned even though he knew the answer. “Y-Yes?” Rindou leans into you and your face heats up for a moment as you feel his breath on your cheek before he whispers “follow me”. You almost didn't hear because of the music but he made sure you followed when he grabbed you by the hand and dragged you to the private room only he and his brother had access to. 

Making your way in, you look around in awe. A spacious room with a glimmering chandelier above you was the scene before your excited eyes. You take in more of your surroundings and you realize just how out of place you seem. Twiddling with your fingers, you look up at Rindou unknowing what to do next. He peers down at you, before placing a hand on your lower back and guiding you to the couch, “Sit here please”. He says giving you a smile that seemed sinister rather than kind and you take a seat trying to fight off the bad feeling you were having.

“Its nice to finally meet you Y/n” Rindou knew he was lying, but he had to remain calm and calculated, watching your every move, eyeing your nervousness as you once again try to flatten the short skirt that's hardly covering your thighs. You gulp, “Yeah, Nice to meet you too Mr. Haitani.” your voice drips like honey in his ears. ‘Mr. Haitani’ huh? He’ll make sure to keep that in mind when he’s training you to be his good obedient slut. “No need for formalities, pretty girl, you can use them.. Later.” It almost sounded threatening, which didnt help your nerves. You didnt have much time to think about it when you heard the door creak open, revealing the tall short haired man that was eyeing you earlier. Rindou stood, striding over to his older brother before whispering a few things back and fourth to one another. 

Quickly looking away, you make eye contact with the floor as you play with the hem of your skirt. You look up when you feel a dip in the couch next to you. “Hey” he sighs out dreamily, laying back one arm wrapped around the couch near your shoulder, the other sitting on his man spreaded lap, far too comfortable, far too soon. “I see you like the outfit I sent you to come here in '' Ran isn't ashamed when he's taking in your figure, wrapped in the tightest, shortest, skimpiest clothes he could find for you.

“H-hello, Im Y/n '' you shudder, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to hide from his unwavering stare. The staring had increased your anxiety, it's not everyday that a person meets someone like the Haitanis. “I know who you are sweetheart, Infact, I know all about you” he looks at your shaken form and continues, “Im Ran by the way, Rindou and I are gonna take care of you, financially and in any way you want, isnt that what you need sweetheart?” You blink and nod slowly at him. “In turn, we want you to ourselves. Do you understand?” He lifts his hand that's near your shoulders and begins twirling your hair in between his fingers. After a few seconds of thinking it over, you ask, “What did you mean you know all about me?” you hesitantly and softly ask your question. Ran looks at his brother, almost ignoring your question, as if they weren't the ones that have been watching you for months now. “Nothing you need to worry your pretty little head about. Be ours.” You notice the dangerous flash in their eyes, they were not asking you, they were demanding. You stand quickly, “Um, I think I should g-” Rindou cuts you off by standing at the door and crossing his arms. “Sit down. Now. I wont ask you twice.” At his tone you shuffle back to your seat, sitting opposite from Ran in an attempt to back away from the men. “Love.. Don't look so scared, we would never hurt you” Ran cups your face gently, holding your chin between his thumb and index finger that were adorned by shiny rings. He rubs his thumb over your cheek while holding eye contact, “We just need you to sign a little paper for us, then you can have anything you've ever dreamed of, isn't that what you want sweetheart?” Ran questions, leaning in closer, holding your gaze. “I- I don't kn-” “Sign the paper.” Ran’s fingers grow tighter around your face. “I need to think about th-” “Now.”

Rindou grabs your hand and puts a pen in it, continuing to hold onto it as it inches near the signature mark. “Right here, pretty girl.” And against your will, with a hand holding yours to sign a signature, you sealed your fate, selling your soul away to the devils in the room.

Ran had called his chauffeur to drive you home, upon the arrival of his expensive car, you weren't expecting them to hop in the back with you. Sandwiched in between the two muscular men, you tried to comprehend and digest what just happened to you. “What are you gonna have me do?” You apprehensively ask the men next to you, getting more anxious when you hear deep chuckles next to you. “You'll see” Rindou hums under his breath and traces feather light shapes with his fingertips on your knee, working his way up your thigh causing your inhale to get caught in your throat.  You’re very grateful when the car screeches to a halt. Quickly rising from your seat, you avoid Ran’s lap and open the door to hop out. Not waiting for the men in the car, you turn your heel and walk to the direction of your door, hearing their footsteps behind you. You go to shut your door quickly but Ran catches it and forces it open. “Its not very polite to slam a door in someone's face princess, but we will work on your manners soon enough.” Ran barked out at you, causing his brother to laugh much to your dismay, feeling the hotness creep its way up your face. “Oh before we forget, we will be texting you tomorrow on your first command”. Rindou added after catching his breath. You went to sleep that night, questioning everything that happened to lead you to this moment of your life. Because of those two, this is gonna be the beginning of your new everything, whether you like it or not. 

The brothers were patient with you, after all, you had been weary of them the first few weeks of being around them. At this point, youve been ‘working’ for them for about 7 months, feeling much more comfortable around them. Taking things slow, they only recently started asking you for kisses, cuddles and comfort after a long day of working. You obliged of course, it wasn't much you had to do for them in the first place. 

Theyve been paying you well, enough to make a living and be able to quit your shitty job. After really getting to know the Haitani’s and their past, they decided to take the next big step in your companionship together, and ask you to move in with them. Hesitant but ready, you move all your belongings into their penthouse and after a few days, you're finally finished. “Phew '', you sigh out, adding the finishing touches on the wall. You back away and look all around you, framed pictures covering the big wall of you and the Haitani brothers and your adventures. You smile contently when you feel an arm wrap around your waist and a few quick kisses on your nape. You giggle at the ticklish feeling and turn around to see Ran looking down at you, in a more intense way than usual. You tilt your head and look at him for a few quiet seconds, “Is everything okay..?” You ask uneasily when his eyes darken. He leans into your ear and lightly laughs, causing shivers to go down your spine, which doesnt go unnoticed by the older Haitani. “Oh its more than okay sweetheart” he rasps out and bites the spot below your ear lightly. His own heart picks up speed when he hears you whimper, blood rushes to his cock at the sound. He needs to hear more. He doesn't give you time to think when you're suddenly being slammed against the wall, a hand gripping your throat and the other grasping onto your waist tightly. He kisses you hard, his teeth clashing against your own and his tongue finding a new home in your mouth. Muffled squeaks and whines are making their way out of your throat while animalistic groans are coming from his. You place your hands against his shoulders and attempt to push him away which in turn tightens his grip on your throat. Heat pools between your thighs as you get light headed from the feeling. He pulls his mouth away from yours, a line of spit connecting you both, to admire the flushed look on your face, and the drool sneaking its way past the side of your lip at his actions. He laughs and lets go of your throat to swipe away the drool, entertained by the way your chest is heaving up and down to catch your breath. Ran pulls away from you completely and you whine at the loss when Rindou enters your vision. “Somethin’ wrong pretty?” He teases taking in your trembling form. The glint in his eye darkens when he sees his pretty angel squeezing her thighs together. The brothers both stare down at you waiting for a response. You look back at them in desperation and embarrassment, they know what you want, they just wanna hear you say it. “I… I want you both” you manage to say between their nearly predatory peering. “Want us how?” Ran questions back. “Tell us exactly what you want pretty girl” 

You whine and through your embarrassment you squeak out “Wan’ to be fucked by you both, p-please.” 

And then it happens. Youre being picked up and whisked away before you even realize whats happening. You squeal when you're tossed in the air and sink into the comfortable couch of the living room.

Rindou’s kissing you now - kissing you in like you were his favorite taste. Drinking in your breathless gasps as Ran begins unbuttoning your top, letting it fall to the floor and- 

“Fuuuck.” he lets out a low whistle, “Come look at this.”

With an almost-annoyed groan, Rindou pulls away from your sweet lips. Eyes widening as he takes in the sight of you - braless, and exposed shamefully in front of both of them, of course. “No bra?” he mutters raspily. “Always knew you were a lil’ slut, pretty.” But you knew by the way his breath hitches that he liked it.

Ran clearly did too as his mouth attached itself to your pebbled nipple, fingers pinching the other lightly. You let out short breathless gasps of air as his tongue swirls around. Rindou throws his head back as he palms his hard on through his pants and groans. He sits between your thighs as Ran lays to your side, continuing his assault on your chest. 

“I bet she’s got such a slutty pussy too Rin” his brother calls out. “Only one way to see” The poor, flimsy fabric of your short shorts didn't stand a chance as Rindou tears it in two. You squeeze your eyes shut from being so exposed, and when you dont feel touches on you at all you open them to see both men staring at your drenched panties in absolute awe. 

“Ah ah” Ran tuts, seeing the way your thighs were trying to close, holding them down he chooses to not let you have even some semblance of dignity. “Youre gonna be a good slut f’us right?”  You nod your head up and down and gasp when you feel a few kisses from between your thighs, inching higher and higher up. “Use your words sweetheart.” Ran tsks from above you. “Y-Yes I will be, please just- please keep going.” You whine, bucking your hips in the air slightly. In another quick rip your panties are discarded off of you, and Rindou taking opportunity of your distraction dives face first into your pussy. He groans at the taste, of course you were so sweet, so good on his tongue. The taste addictive as your fingers quickly pull and tug on his hair. “Shit, shit, shit” you gasp, pulling him harder against you. He moves his tongue easily against your wet cunt, sloppily, uncaring of the sting on his scalp. 

You get lost in the pleasure as Rindou sucks your twitching clit into his mouth to swirl his tongue around it, making your back arch off the sofa. “Hngh- fuck- Feel’s good.” you whine, bucking your hips wildly.

“Yeah? Ya like this?” Rindou attempts to speak, words muffled around your clit. Sucking and rolling his tongue harshly across it. Over and over again.  Your whines and gasps turn into long drawn out moans as Ran unbuckles and unzips his pants. He pulls his cock out and you gawk at his size. Long, with an angry red tip and a pretty vein that runs on the side, you see the precum sliding down the length of it as he grips the base a few times. 

“Open wide f’me pretty” you let your tongue lol out of your mouth as he grips your jaw, lowering his face to meet your own, teary eyed one before he lets a glob of spit fall directly on to your awaiting tongue. “Swallow” He demands as he strokes his shaft a few times and then groans at the sight of you swallowing obediently. He squishes your cheeks and puckers your lips from his tight hold with one hand and holds his cock with his other hand, smacking it against your mouth a few times before he lets go. Having done that, Ran’s stuffing himself into your mouth. A low hiss leaving the back of his throat as you take him so well, lips bulging around his thick cock. Tonguing at the sensitive slit in a way that makes him lose his mind. 

Gags and sputters of your breath are heard as he holds you down, waiting for you to adjust. Big tears prick the corner of your eyes as you breathe harshly through your nose, slowly bobbing your head up and down. “Fuuuuck” Ran lets out a long groan, “You like being our whore doll?” and he swears he almost cums down your throat when he feels you nod against him, continuing to let out muffled whines at Rindou’s unrelenting pace. 

Maybe it was Ran’s filthy words - so filthy even when he was calling to you sweetly. Or maybe it was the way Rindou was grinding his jaw as he plunged his soft tongue deeper into your plushy walls. Probably it was how they both looked at you - like you were their last meal. 

Because you’re cumming, and cumming so messily all over Rindou’s mouth in a long moan that vibrates against Ran’s cock causing him to shudder, and pulling your hair into a makeshift ponytail as he bobs your head up and down.  Rindou pulls away and licks his lips, not bothering to wipe away your cum thats staining his chin and jaw. He pulls down his pants, tugging just enough that his swollen cock springs out, letting his thumb rub against his weeping tip that was dripping all the way down his length. 

And if you thought Ran was being mean then you weren’t prepared for Rindou at all. Not with the way he poked his swollen tip into your snug cunt. Throwing his head back he slowly inches more and more into you, groaning at the heavenly feeling of your tight walls against him. 

“Shit- s’tight, fuck” Rindou lets out a few gasps, jaw clenched, trying his hardest not to just fuck into your overstimulated pussy until you’re drunk on his cock. But damn- its made difficult for him when all he gets in response from you is a choked, wet gurgles. Body bowing into both of theirs as you desperately try to relax both your throat and your cunt.

He tightens his grip on your hips, hard enough that your pretty sure youll bruises tomorrow.

“What do you think, pretty? Want me to fuck this tight lil’ pussy? Ruin you on my cock?” 

Ultimately, the only response he gets is a wet moan.

“Awww, look at her- hah- Cock-drunk little slut can’t even speak.” is the last thing you hear Rindou say as he pushes past your ring of resistance, thrusting in deep and hard into your poor pussy. He pulls back all the way to push back in roughly enjoying the sound of your mangled moans. He hits so deep and angles his cock to hit right against your g-spot. You suck up his cock so fucking sinfully as his heavy balls smack repeatedly your ass, already so wet with your slick and his precum. 

“Fuck, youre so good.” Ran hums, the image of you choking on his cock while you struggle to take Rindou making him dizzy. Rindou continues to reel his hips back, all the way till his tip is just outside of you, before slamming back into your sloppy holes recklessly. Harsh thrusts fueled by the need to make you cum again, this time on his cock. 

Ran taps at your cheek, making you blink your teary eyes up at him, he cant help but want to match Rindou’s pace and pump your mouth full of cum. “Gonna cum all over your pretty face” Ran groans, wrapping his large hand around your throat.

He feels your moans and gasps increase as the sound vibrates around his cock- “Are- fuck- hah- are you close baby?” and all you can do is nod pathetically and cry against him. 

“Fuck, I can feel it too.” Rindou voices from behind, “Squeezin’ me so hah- t-tight” It’s his cue to reach down and start toying with your swollen clit, still so sensitive and sore from before. Drawing little circles on it, pinching with his fingers.

It was hard for them to look at your ruined form, mascara dripping down your face without cumming on the spot, you looked so utterly fucked out that it was almost painful. 

They sped up their pace impossibly fast against you. Rindou’s fingers draw quick circles against your clit, so hard and fast as he hits your g-spot with every thrust he makes. 

“Cmon- fuck- cum for us doll”

This orgasm hits you more intensely than the last. Far more intensely. You tremble in their hold and see stars behind your eyes as you drench Rindou’s pelvis with your cum. You feel them both slam into you, once, twice, before theyre both spilling into you. Ran’s taste is slightly bitter in your mouth, not that you mind when hes pumping thick hot ropes of cum into your mouth, pulling out and watching you drool it out deliriously, smearing some of it on your face with his thumb like the depraved man he is. Rindou is the opposite, keeping his twitching cock stuffed inside of you while he paints your walls white, making sure you dont waste a single drop. 

Eventually they pull out and fall against the sofa with you, catching their breaths and sweating. You're left exhausted against Ran’s arms carrying you as Rindou draws a warm bath for you, falling asleep in their hold as they clean you. You wake up groggy and sore in the morning with a note and a water bottle on your bedside. You didnt feel either brother next to you which wasnt an uncommon occurrence, as they have to wake up at odd hours of the night for club duties. Opening your phone you see a text from Rindou that read, ‘we’re sorry we cant be there when you wake up, but know we have a driver waiting for you outside to bring you here for more fun x’. You giggle at the text and pick out the skimpiest outfit you can muster, one that shows off your bruises, bites and all other marks. 

Arriving at the club you skim your eyes around till they meet Ran’s mischievous ones. You walk over to him and sit on the bar stool next to his, no words are exchanged between you both as you swirl your drink in the glass and tilt your head back to swallow it whole. 

Kakucho and Sanzu watch you closely, admiring the way your skimpy dress hugs against your curves. “Damn.. Who’s she??” The pink haired man wonders out loud. Kakucho looks away, “Haitani’s” Kakucho answers shortly, downing his own shot. Sanzu quirks a brow at him. “Which one? Jellyfish?” Kakucho sighs and looks at Sanzu, “Both of them.”

A/N: I dont think this was stupid or cringe at all, my brother in christ, we shall have a spring wedding, i hope you like this even though i went insane with it <3 luv u 2 ( ˘ ³˘)♥︎, (AND IM SO FUCKING SORRY IM SO LATE)

[babyleostuff]

HIP HOP UNIT WITH A TALL S/O

i’m 5’7 and even though i’m not like the tallest, i’ve always been insecure about my height, especially when it comes to men (because we know the majority likes shorter girls) (this is no hate to my short queens), so this i very much self indulgent. ily my tall girlies <333

warning: mention of size kink with mingyu (it's only mentioned, i didn't elaborate or anything)

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHOI SEUNGCHEOL 

at first i think cheol would be a bit sulky, because he’d want to be the taller a bigger one in the relationship (honey, you could still manhandle all of us, no matter the height). but that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t go for someone taller. after some time he’d actually find it so hot that you can be so independent because of your height, like - you don’t need help from anyone else to reach the top shelf, you can do it all by yourself (he’s always like “that’s my girl” and has heart eyes whenever situations like those happen). also, because you’re taller you don’t get intimidated that easily, and you can actually use your height to your advantage and intimidate other people (also hot in his opinion) (he’s a leo after all) (i’ll never shut up about him being a leo).  

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ JEON WONWOO 

same as cheol, i think wonwoo dating a taller girl would be kind of? out of his comfort zone (at first). but even before you began dating, the more time you spent with each other, he began to find your height more and more attractive, to the point where when you actually began dating he wouldn’t pay much attention to it anymore. if he’d notice that you got insecure or someone pointed out you’re small (or non-existent) height difference he’d get so protective of you and reassure you he didn’t mind it at all. omfg and whenever you’d kiss his forehead because you were tall enough to do it, he’d turn into mush and it would make him so so happy, loved and appreciated. and even though you were tall, he was still bigger (and wider) (damn those 58cm shoulders). 

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ KIM MINGYU 

god made men and sent mingyu as an apology. he would love to have a s/o on the taller side, he said it himself - he likes tall girls, and he totally gives me vibes of someone who’d be in a relationship with a tall person. he wouldn’t have to deal with the neck and back cramps, but he could still be the bigger one in the relationship (he’d still get to tease you that you’re small and all) (do i have to mention that a size kink for tall girlies with mingyu would still be possible because he’s so much bigger than you???). he’d love to show you off, especially when you’d be wearing heels (that man would go feral over you in a dress and high heels). you’d be the tall couple in your friend group and omg that’s so hot. also, if anyone ever dared to make you insecure because of your height they’d have to deal with a very angry mingyu.

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ CHWE VERNON  vernon would find it so cool, like “look at my girl, yeah that’s my tall queen.” vernon never found it weird that you were his height or taller, it’d be one of his favourite features of yours, and he would make sure to remind you that he loved your height if you ever got insecure because of it. and as much as vernon was passive about people calling out his insecurities or making fun of him (he doesn’t have the energy to focus on such people) he’d always stand up for you if anyone ever commented on your height. he would love to take mirror pictures with you, he’d definitely set one as his wallpaper (he generally would go feral over seeing you two in pictures, because he genuinely found your height difference hot).

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[littlelamy]

dont know If you’re still taking requests but could you do a rafe x tall reader (like im 5’9 and rafe being 6’2 is soooo ugh) please its tough for us out here 😭😭😭

a/n: thank you so much for sending a request!💗

the air felt different as soon as you stepped into the living room. it was heavy, like the weight of a thousand thoughts pressing down on you. you glanced down at the pair of black high heels sitting next to the couch, their sleek design tempting yet intimidating. you'd wanted to wear them for ages, to feel more elegant. but every time you tried them on, an overwhelming sense of self-consciousness flooded you.

you were 5'9'', and most of the time, it was fine. hell, you didn’t even care about it half the time. but the idea of being even taller in heels? that made you nervous. you were already used to being noticed, used to people glancing up at you with a hint of surprise. wearing the heels would only draw more attention. and honestly? you didn’t know if you wanted that.

“hey,” rafe’s voice broke through the haze of your thoughts. his voice, low and calming, filled the room like a warm breeze. you turned toward him, his blue eyes watching you with a mix of curiosity and affection. he was lounging on the couch, his legs spread comfortably, looking like he’d just rolled out of bed, which he probably had. his tousled blond hair fell lazily over his forehead, and there was a slight smirk playing at the corners of his lips.

“you alright?” he asked, his tone soft. his gaze flickered between you and the shoes.

you glanced down at them again, your fingers brushing over the smooth leather. “yeah. just… i don’t know. i wanted to wear these, but i feel like i’m already too tall, you know? like, maybe it’s too much.”

rafe sat up, his eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he studied you. there was something about the way he looked at you that made you feel like he could see through all the layers of insecurity you tried to hide. you shifted uncomfortably, wishing you could disappear into the floor.

“you know what i think?” rafe said, his voice low, full of conviction.

“what?” you murmured, not looking up.

“i think you’re perfect just the way you are,” he replied, his voice thick with sincerity. “tall or short, with heels or without, it doesn’t matter. i like you for you. not for some idea of what you think you should be.”

you felt a warmth spread through your chest at his words. his honesty, the way he always knew just what to say, made you feel safe, like nothing else in the world mattered as long as you were with him.

you met his gaze, your heart fluttering as you took in the sincerity in his eyes. there was no judgment there, just… love. “you really think so?” you asked, the insecurity still gnawing at you.

rafe nodded, his lips curling into a small, reassuring smile. “i think you look amazing no matter what. and those heels? you’ll look even better in them.” he paused for a moment, his eyes locking onto yours with a mischievous glint. “besides, if you’re taller than me in them, that’s just more of you to love.”

you couldn’t help but chuckle at that. the playful banter was one of the things you loved most about rafe—how he could take the heaviest moments and lighten them up with just a few words. “you know you’re already taller than me most of the time,” you teased, a small grin tugging at the corners of your lips.

“yeah, but i like the idea of you towering over me,” he replied with a smirk. he stood up slowly, taking a few steps toward you. “makes me feel like i have someone to look up to.”

your heart skipped a beat at his words. rafe had always been the one to take care of things, the one who was confident and sure of himself. but in moments like these, he was also the one who made you feel like you were the most important person in the room, like you were the one holding all the power.

“okay, enough of the sweet talk,” you said, feeling your cheeks flush. you bit your lip and glanced down at the shoes once more. “maybe i’ll give them a try.”

“good,” rafe said, his voice filled with an almost mischievous excitement. “i want to see you in them.”

you hesitated for just a moment longer before bending down and sliding your feet into the heels. standing up, you carefully adjusted yourself, feeling the slight shift in your posture as the heels gave you a few more inches. you glanced at rafe, unsure of what to expect.

he was staring at you, his eyes wide with admiration. “holy shit,” he whispered under his breath, his gaze moving from your heels to your face. “you look… god, you look incredible.”

you smiled nervously, unsure of how to respond. “you think so?”

“think so? i know so.” he took a step toward you, closing the distance between you with that familiar confident stride of his. his hands cupped your face gently, his thumb brushing over your cheek. “you’re stunning, baby. and i’m not just saying that because you’ve got a few extra inches on me right now. i’m saying it because it’s the truth.”

you blinked up at him, a fluttering sensation in your chest. his words, the way he always made you feel like the most important person in his world, were more than you could handle. he leaned down, his lips brushing over yours in a soft, lingering kiss. the warmth of his mouth made your heart race.

“you’re perfect just like this,” he murmured against your lips, his breath hot and sweet. “tall, confident, sexy.”

his words melted away the last remnants of your self-consciousness. maybe you were taller than most people, maybe the heels made you even taller, but in rafe’s eyes, none of it mattered. all that mattered was how you felt in his arms.

the kiss deepened, and you could feel the connection between you growing stronger with every second. his hands slid down your back, pulling you closer, and you could feel the warmth of his body radiating into yours. the world outside the two of you didn’t exist anymore. it was just rafe, you, and the overwhelming feeling of being loved.

you pulled away for a moment, your forehead resting against his. “you really don’t care about how tall i am?”

“no,” he said, his voice a soft growl. “i care about how you make me feel. and right now, i feel like the luckiest guy in the world.”

you smiled up at him, your hands finding their way to his chest, resting over his heart. “then i guess i’m the lucky one,” you whispered, your voice soft and filled with affection.

rafe smiled, his lips brushing over yours once more in a quick, sweet kiss. “you’re my everything,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms again. “heels, no heels, it doesn’t matter. you’re perfect the way you are.”

and in that moment, you realized something. maybe you weren’t just perfect without the heels. maybe the extra inches, the added height, were just another part of you that rafe loved. and maybe, just maybe, being tall wasn’t something to hide or be self-conscious about. with rafe by your side, it was just another thing that made you who you were—someone worthy of love, no matter how tall, no matter how much space you took up in the world.

you leaned into him, feeling the warmth of his embrace surround you. “thanks, rafe,” you whispered, your voice thick with emotion.

“anytime,” he said, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “now, let’s go out and show off those heels.”

you laughed, the sound of it filling the room with a sense of lightness. maybe it wasn’t about the heels at all. maybe it was about feeling comfortable in your own skin, knowing that someone loved you for who you were, tall and all.

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