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bunny-jpeg · 2 months ago

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For your halloween special, can i have all dressed chips, with a espresso Martini by max verstappen plssss

halloween menu - bakery menu

spooky scary post-halloween submission! thank you so much for the request. it has been fun to write this one, so i hope that you love it. i know that the spooky season is over, but we can probably have a little more halloween magic until christmas, haha!

all-dressed chips: "i'd propose right now. but not while you're wearing this." + espresso martini: dom!character served by max verstappen (formula one)

tags: smut/pwp, dom & mad!max, driver!reader, established relationship, car sex (sort of), fingering/clit teasing & oral sex (reader receives)

"you can't laugh at this." you said as you zipped up the driver's suit to your neck. you looked in the mirror before you shushed your teammate. you turned in the mirror a little, "oh he's gonna freak when he sees this."

daniel laughed into his fist and you shushed your teammate before you turned to him and away from the mirror. the driving suit was so much baggier than yours. especially in the shoulders and thighs. you knew that if the team found out about this, they would lose it.

they were very particular with where the drive suit of the great max verstappen was at all times. and currently it was on your body as you and your teammate rushed to his car before you ended up at a halloween party in austin.

to be a couple on two separate teams often led to a flurry of discussions and rumors. you had about four pregnancy rumors happen oven the course of the season. that didn't mention the three cheating rumors (that was your cousin that photo) or the five secret wedding rumors. you hated those ones the most because they always made it seem like your wedding choices were tacky.

but tonight, you were thankful there were no press members lurking around the house that was rented out by the mclaren team for the austin weekend. and since it was close enough to halloween, that meant the drivers and others could have a party. and while it wasn't a dress up party, you took it upon yourself to have the best costume.

your teammate, daniel, was dressed a cowboy. you even remarked, 'you might give me a run for my money tonight." as you looked in the mirror to see if your lip gloss was ended up above your lip. he laughed and the two of you got out of the parking lot before the gate to the track was closed.

at the house, you spotted max waiting outside with his arms crossed and leaned up against the gate. when he saw you get out of the car, he was instantly over to you. it wasn't until he got closer that he noticed that you were wearing his driver suit.

he laughed, "you look so amazing." he scooped you up in his arms and looked at you with a smile, "very authentic."

you giggled, "it's a red bull original."

max looked at you, "i..is that my suit?"

you nodded, "yeah, well worn today and everything." you felt max hold onto you a little tighter and you got your hands into the front of his t-shirt. you looked at him, "i wanted to be the best dressed."

he swallowed then laughed, "well, i think it's a mission accomplished." he could feel the swirl in his gut.

daniel piped up after he locked the car doors, "what about me, max?" he laughed, "i think i kill it tonight too, mate." then winked at his former teammate.

max laughed, "why did i have a feeling that you were going as a cowboy tonight?" then ushered you into the house against his worst judgement. the back of his mind was calling for him to stuck you in the backseat and make the car rock.

so much was covered, but to know that you were in max's gear turned him on. so the entire night his gaze was on you, his hand on your lower back and when he could, his lips on yours. a night of partying ended with max driving you back to your hotel room.

"show me what's under it? got my fireproofs on too?" he asked. his hand was on the zipper and trying to get it down while you drove him. you helped him and he caught a glimpse of your bra underneath.

"i'd propose right now. but not while you're wearing this." he laughed, "and not when there's a risk i'll crash the car." he did however snake his hand between your legs, "fuck, you're so warm."

you moaned as he managed to get under your panties and rub against your clit. the sensation made you jolt and he laughed.

"aw c'mon, my love. you're always so calm on the track? what's the problem now? can't handle a little fun?" it didn't help that the speed he was driving left after shocks through your body.

you were both on quiet back end roads in texas. no one around for a good while, so of course max could rev the engine a little bit while he stimulated your clit. the strength of a formula one driver was concentration and the ability to calculate many things at once.

for example max's rough thumb was against your clit, moving in motions that were making you a total mess in the car. his eyes were on the road and he was going over the speed limit so he could almost stimulate your achy sex. all while not crashing the car.

they could give him the wdc for that feat alone.

your heart was racing in your ears and your pussy soaked through your cotton panties. max knew if he smelled his suit the next morning, it was going to reek like your achy cunt. and he wouldn't mind racing like that.

"shit, max. ah." you groaned and you shifted your hips to get a better feeling of his rough fingers. you swallowed back a particularly loud moan to escape from your lips. you prayed, hoped that no one would find out about this. you didn't need that on the front pages.

"you sound so pretty when you're needy." he purred, "i love how you sound. i feel like i should spank you for stealing my suit, but stealing it is quite the feat i have to say. mmmm, pretty thing."

his words sent shocked through you as you felt the blush bloom in your cheeks with an erotic want. there was something about max verstappen that drove you insane.

eventually he pulled his fingers away from your soaked sex and licked the bit of wetness off his thumb and knuckle. he groaned a little before he pulled into a nearby closed gas station parking lot.

"get in the backseat." he said before he watched you scramble to the back and he followed after. he almost hit his head against the top of the sports car he was driving. you chest was heavy in the low light of the parking lot.

max tugged at the suit, almost ripping the zipper to get access to your soaked cunt. he pushed the crotch of the cotton panties to get access to your sex. you could feel everything tight as he was pulled, but max's tongue on your aching cunt made it all better.

his pace was messy with two of his fingers pushed inside of you for added pleasure. he was a messy eater when he ate you out and you weren't too sure how much time you'd have before someone drove by. the car rocked a little as he pleasured you.

"fuck, ah, max." you didn't know this would've given him such a response. but, you loved it. you loved how his tongue felt against your achy cunt. you had been thinking about him during the party because he was in your space so much.

he groaned against your pussy, your wetness was up to his nose and almost at his cheeks. he went all in when it came to oral sex, that was why it made it so easy for you to climax because of him.

you moaned a little louder and held onto his hair for a moment as you felt the climax wash over you. the feeling hit you like a ton of bricks and it made you hot all over. you felt the fire in your gut as he made you feel on cloud nine.

"oh my god." you panted heavily as he smirked against your soaked pussy before he looked up at you. you could see the glisten of your wetness across his face.

"i'm not done with you yet. let's see how durable this suit really is." he chuckled as you heard the unzip of his jeans.

being in red bull's head office the morning after a party was never a good thing. it was a situation most tried to avoid being. but as you sat with daniel and max across from horner and mekies wasn't a way to start the morning.

"can we at least get coffee." you groaned.

"no." horner replied.

apparently max's racing suit went missing last night. only to be found in your hotel room this morning. daniel was in the office for abetting in the theft. you wanted to die when christian showed the three of you the pictures of the stains on the suit. daniel hid his mouth behind his hand, to not make a very funny (yet very mean comment). you pressed the heels of your hands into your eyes and prayed for a moment that you'd go blind.

"this will result in a fine and community service." which made the three of you groan. the media was going to have a field day with this one <3

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aesthetically-dying101 · 9 days ago

Text

Strictly Professional

A/N: plssss i wanna write for other characters, but ill be mid draft when i suddenly get an idea for nanami, the hold this man has on me is insane. anyways i hope this is good

Warnings: smut mention? minors shoo. protected sex (wrap ur shit up), p in v, cunnilingus, light biting, nanami has erotic thoughts (lots), unpropriate workplace behavior, its all in nanamis head so idk

Minors do not interact, i will block you. Also do not copy my works.

Part two: Strictly Unproffesional

The restaurant hummed with the quiet murmur of conversation, the polished clink of glasses meeting, and the soft rustle of linen napkins. The business dinner had gone long—longer than you’d expected—but that was the way these things tended to go.

Formalities stretched into pleasantries, pleasantries into negotiations, and negotiations into half-hearted jokes exchanged over half-empty wine glasses.

You’d kept pace easily. You were good at this, after all. The art of business was one you’d mastered early—polished, professional, and persuasive. But as you sat at the far end of the table, your attention inevitably strayed to the man sitting across from you.

Nanami Kento.

The firm’s golden boy.

A man of sharp suits and sharper intellect, with a presence that commanded attention even when he wasn’t speaking. Tonight, he was quiet, his focus seemingly on his plate, but you didn’t miss the occasional glances he sent your way, nor the way his lips twitched when you made a particularly clever comment during the negotiations.

He was always like this: composed to the point of maddening, a fortress of control you wanted nothing more than to breach. You’d been paired with him for this case, a high-profile client that demanded perfection. It should’ve been a disaster—two alphas, both strong-willed, both brilliant, both stubborn—but instead, it felt... natural.

Maybe too natural.

By the time the dinner wound down, the other colleagues had started filtering out, leaving you and Nanami walking side by side through the quiet streets back to the hotel. The air was cool, crisp against your skin, and the gentle rhythm of your heels against the pavement filled the silence between you.

“Are you always this silent after a dinner?” you asked, glancing at him.

Nanami’s lips quirked into a faint smile. “Only when I don’t have anything to add.”

“Don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy my riveting commentary on profit margins,” you teased, unable to help yourself.

“Riveting isn’t the word I’d use,” he replied smoothly, though there was a glint of amusement in his eyes.

You huffed a laugh, shaking your head. “You're rude.”

“Efficient,” he corrected.

As the hotel came into view, you felt the dull ache in your feet sharpen with every step. The heels you’d chosen were beautiful but unforgiving, and you were certain they were leaving marks you’d regret in the morning. You tried to hide your discomfort, but the moment you stepped into the hotel lobby, the polished floors felt like punishment.

Nanami noticed.

“Take them off,” he said, his tone leaving little room for argument.

You blinked up at him. “What?”

“The heels. Take them off,” he repeated, already moving to stand closer. His brow furrowed as he glanced down at your feet. “You’re in pain.”

“It’s fine,” you lied, already regretting it as a sharp twinge shot through your arch.

Nanami sighed, a low, frustrated sound, before stepping closer—too close. His hand was warm and firm on your arm, and before you could protest, he’d crouched slightly, his other hand gently lifting your ankle to inspect it.

“Kento,” you hissed, suddenly hyperaware of the curious glances from passing guests.

“You’re stubborn,” he muttered, ignoring you completely. His touch was careful but deliberate as he slipped one heel off, then the other, his thumb brushing lightly against the sensitive skin of your instep.

The contact sent a spark up your spine, actually, not just your spine.

“Let me help you to your room,” he said, rising to his full height. His tone was firm but quiet, as though it weren’t a request.

“I can walk,” you managed, your voice less steady than you’d hoped.

Nanami’s gaze met yours, steady and unyielding. “You’ll hurt yourself. Don’t argue.”

Before you could form a reply, he’d placed one hand on the small of your back, guiding you toward the elevator. The touch was subtle, almost innocent, but it burned through the thin fabric of your dress.

The elevator ride was silent, the air between you crackling with something unspoken. His hand didn’t leave your back, and when the elevator dinged, you swore he guided you out with just the faintest pressure.

You tried to ignore the heat pooling low in your stomach, the way his scent—something clean and understated—seemed to envelop you. By the time you reached your room, your heart was beating faster than it should’ve been.

He stopped at the door, his hand still lingering as you fumbled for your keycard. When you finally unlocked the door and turned to thank him, the words caught in your throat.

Nanami was standing closer than you’d realized, his expression unreadable but his gaze fixed intently on you.

“You didn’t have to—”

“You should’ve told me,” he interrupted, his voice low, almost gruff.

“Told you what?”

“That you were in pain.”

You blinked, taken aback by the frustration in his tone.

“It wasn’t a big deal. I didn’t want to—”

“It’s a big deal to me,” he said.

The breath caught in your chest as his hand moved from your back to your arm, his grip gentle but firm. He was close now, impossibly close, and you could see the faint crease between his brows, the intensity in his eyes.

“Kento...” you whispered, your voice betraying the tension coiling between you-woah?? first name? Wow, way to be unprofessional.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, as if something snapped, his fingers tightened just slightly on your arm, and his lips parted like he was about to say something—something important.

But he didn’t.

Instead, he exhaled sharply, his hand falling away as he stepped back.

“Rest well,” he said quietly, his tone impossibly controlled, though his jaw was tight.

Before you could process what had just happened, he was gone, the door closing softly behind him.

You stood there for a long moment, your heels still dangling from your fingers, your heart racing.

What just happened?

And why, despite the ache in your feet, did you suddenly feel like the floor had been pulled out from under you?

*-*

You stood in the hot spray of the shower, the steam clouding around you, but no matter how much you tried to wash away the tension, it lingered. You ran your fingers through your hair, but your mind wasn’t on the water.

It was on him.

Nanami.

His hands.

The way he’d guided you so effortlessly through the hotel. The touch of his palm on your back, the warmth of his breath near your ear. It was like the whole night had been a slow burn, one moment after another where your heart had thumped louder than your breath.

You shook your head, trying to shake the thoughts away. This is ridiculous. You needed to get some sleep. You had a big day ahead of you tomorrow. You had a case to win, and the last thing you needed was to be distracted by… him.

But the more you tried to focus on the steady rhythm of the water cascading over your skin, the more his presence slipped into your mind. His broad shoulders. The way his suit fit him, and how it had seemed like a second skin to him all night. The subtle flex of his muscles as he moved, each gesture so controlled, so precise… and yet, when he’d held you tonight, it felt like something else entirely. Like he was barely holding himself back.

You bit your lip, stifling a soft groan. No. No, no, no.

The image of his eyes, the almost frantic look he’d given you when you’d walked into your hotel room, stayed with you. He had barely said goodbye, but the tension between you both hadn’t been lost on either of you.

You were so distracted by him that you didn’t even realize your hand had slipped lower on your body. You froze, catching yourself.

Oh my God.

You quickly turned off the shower, hurriedly wrapping yourself in a towel, your heart hammering. What was happening? You liked him. That much was obvious, but… what if he didn’t feel the same? What if he was just being kind?

But something told you that wasn’t the case. His touch, his gaze… He hadn’t been indifferent. The fact that he’d insisted on helping you, and then walked away just when it seemed like things might get too heated, told you everything you needed to know.

And now, as you stood in the bathroom, trying to steady your breath, the room felt like it was full of him.

You shook your head again, stepping into your clothes. Get it together. You didn’t have time for this, not tonight.

*-*

The water streamed over Nanami’s body, cooling his heated skin, but it did nothing to calm the fire burning in his mind. His fingers gripped the edges of the shower, the only thing grounding him, as his thoughts spiraled out of control.

Get it together, Kento.

But no matter how hard he tried, the image of you wouldn’t leave him. You, standing there in front of him, your soft breath catching when he’d helped you with your shoes. The way your eyes had looked at him—lips parted.

But that wasn’t what was really torturing him.

It was what could’ve happened.

What should’ve happened.

The way you would’ve felt if he had pulled you closer—if he had leaned in, taken control, and kissed you like he’d wanted to all night. His hands were gripping the tiles so hard his knuckles ached, his thoughts swirling faster than he could process.

He pictured it:

His mind only conjured the thought of you beneath him—no, above him.

God help him, you on top of him.

The thought made his cock twitch painfully, and he cursed under his breath.

He imagined you straddling him, your hips moving slowly, teasingly, grinding down on him with just the right amount of pressure, those perfect, full lips parted in a breathless moan, eyes locked on his.

He couldn’t breathe.

The vision consumed him. He imagined your fingers running through his hair, tugging him closer, kissing him with fevered intensity, the kiss desperate, sloppy, and raw.

His grip tightened on the tiles, the pressure building in his chest, his cock twitched painfully hard again in response to the thought of you.

Fuck, he cursed, his hand gripped his shaft as he imagined you riding him, straddling him with that knowing smirk on your lips.

The heat of your body above him, rocking in time with his breath, your hands gripping his chest as you moved, slow at first, then faster, your hips rolling over him in a rhythm that was both maddening and perfect.

It was so real in his mind that he felt like he was there with you, his hands running over your body, his mouth worshipping every inch of you.

Slow down. Slow the fuck down.

But his mind refused to.

His mind spiraled even deeper.

Nanami imagined you in the office.

God, the office. The way you’d walk past his desk with that slow, deliberate sway of your hips, eyes glancing down at him just enough to send that jolt of electricity through his body. The teasing look you’d give him, lips curling with that hint of something he knew he couldn’t have.

Then the fantasy took over.

He saw it so clearly now: you, pulling him toward you by his tie, just outside the conference room, your body pressed against his, lips claiming his in a kiss that started slow and soft but quickly turned desperate. His hands would find your waist, sliding under the curve of your blouse to feel the smoothness of your skin as his fingers dug into your flesh, hungry for more.

His fingers would grip your ass, squeezing, pulling you close as you teased him.

He could feel his cock twitching in his hand at the thought of you grinding against him, that soft friction as you leaned into him.

Fuck, he could already feel it. The way you’d gasp when he’d slip between your legs, how he’d fuck you on the desk, hard and unrelenting. You’d be so wet, so ready for him, your moans filling the room as he fucked you with a desperate need that had been building all day.

Then he imagined you on your knees in front of him, your lips wrapping around his cock, eyes looking up at him, so pretty.

He imagined taking you in every possible position, fucking you on your knees, on your back, over him, against him, in every inch of his bed. Nanami’s mind raced faster, the images intensifying, the fantasies more sinful than before. He’d make you cum over and over, until you couldn’t remember your own name, until your body was trembling in his arms.

His grip tightened, his pulse pounding in his ears as he imagined how good it would feel to bury himself inside you, your body squeezing around him as he fucked you over and over, your name spilling from his lips as he came, coating you with everything he had.

God, just the thought of it.

His hand moved faster, the images in his head taking on a life of their own. He could feel your body against his, that intoxicating mix of heat, skin, and raw need.

He was spiraling, losing himself completely to the image of you..

Every position, every scenario, all of them far more scandalous than the last.

He could feel you writhing beneath him, your hands clawing at his back, your legs wrapped tightly around his waist as he fucked you deep, slow, and rough.

The thought of you wasn’t just physical, though.

No.

Nanami wanted more.

He imagined you in his life—every single day. The way your body would feel next to his in the mornings, the smell of coffee and pancakes filling the apartment as you’d move around the kitchen, your hands brushing against his, your breath hot against his ear as you laughed together.

The kitchen table would be covered with papers—contracts, forms, both of you working late into the night. But then he’d reach out for you, his hand slipping down your back as he pulled you into him. He’d kiss you—slow, torturously slow, before everything would spiral out of control, his hands pushing you onto the table, his cock deep inside you as you gasped and moaned for him.

The thought of waking up next to you, the weight of your body tangled with his, your soft sighs as you stretched beneath him—he could almost feel it. The heat of your body next to his. His hands skimming down your back, over your hips, your thighs. He imagined taking you in his bed, over and over, each time with a new hunger, a new intensity.

He wanted it all.

You.

His fantasies were a chaotic, uncontrollable flood of lust and longing. He couldn’t help it. He was completely whipped for you.

So goddamn whipped.

But it wasn’t just the sex.

The more he thought about it, the more he realized how deeply he craved you, how utterly consumed he was. He pictured you, soft and warm in his arms, every inch of you becoming his. Nanami imagined running his hands over your body, tasting every part of you, exploring each inch as you melted beneath him.

His cock was leaking by now, furiously so.

But then it wasn’t just the bedroom. It was everywhere. The office. His kitchen. The goddamn shower he was standing in now. He imagined pulling you in here with him, your body slick and warm, your breasts pressing against his chest as his hands explored every part of you.

He’d sink to his knees, worshiping you properly, his mouth tasting places he’d dreamed about for weeks.

“Fuck,” he groaned again, his head dropping forward as he tried to steady himself.

Every thought, every breath, every beat of his heart belonged to you. He wanted you in ways that defied reason, in ways that scared him, in ways that made him wonder how he’d ever survive without you.

Nanami groaned, his thumb slid over the head of his cock, he was about to burst-

knock, knock.

The sound jolted him, breaking through the haze of his fantasies. He froze, water still dripping down his face, his heart pounding in his chest. The knock came again, louder this time, more insistent.

For a moment, he stood there, caught between reality and the overwhelming need still coursing through him. His hand clenched into a fist at his side, his breath uneven.

Who the hell…?

He stepped out of the shower, grabbing a towel and wrapping it around his waist, the cool air doing nothing to calm him. The tension still thrummed in his veins, but as he moved toward the door, a different thought took hold.

What if it was you?

*-*

You stood outside his hotel room door, hands balled into fists at your sides, trying to summon the courage to knock again. It was late—so late—and you knew this wasn’t professional. But you couldn’t stop yourself. Not after the way he’d made you feel tonight, the way your chest had tightened with every small touch, every glance.

And, if you were honest, the thought of lying awake in your room all night, haunted by the tension simmering between you, felt unbearable.

You knocked once more, your heart racing. A moment later, the door opened, and—

Oh.

Oh, God.

Nanami stood there, a towel slung low around his hips, water droplets sliding down his chest. His damp hair clung to his forehead, a single strand falling into his golden-brown eyes. And those eyes—they locked onto you, wide and startled for a split second before softening into something unreadable.

Your brain short-circuited.

Focus. You’re here for a reason. A perfectly innocent, rational—

“I—” Your voice cracked, and you immediately slapped both palms over your eyes. “I didn’t see anything. I’m not looking. I swear. You’re safe.”

The sound that escaped him was halfway between a laugh and a groan.

“You’re at my door in the middle of the night, but I’m the one who needs to feel safe?”

You felt the heat flood your cheeks, mortified. “I just… I couldn’t sleep, and I—”

“You what?” His voice was low now, so soft you barely heard him.

You swallowed hard, your hands still glued to your face.

“I needed to talk to you. About tonight. About… us.”

There was a beat of silence, and then, before you could process what was happening, you felt his warm hand circle your wrist. He gently pulled your hands away from your face, forcing you to meet his gaze. His expression was unreadable—those piercing eyes flicking over your face like he was trying to piece you together.

“I…” You hesitated, your voice shaking. “I can go if this is—”

“You’re not going anywhere,” he murmured, stepping aside to let you in. His tone wasn’t harsh, but there was a quiet intensity to it that sent a shiver down your spine.

You stepped inside, and the door clicked shut behind you.

A/N: i think this is the equivalent of a word vomit cause this makes such little sense, anywyas i hope it was still somewhat enjoyable, maybe a part two? ill see

masterlist.

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merlucide · 9 months ago

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PLSSSS PLSS PLSSSSSSS DO MORE ON THE TYING A BOW AROUND BICEP TREND W THE BLLK BOYS I ATE UP UR OTHER 1 UPPPPPPPP💗💗💗💗

ASKING TO TIE A RIBBON AROUND THEIR BICEP TREND PT2

Notes: Well since you asked so nicely <33 (TYSM)

Characters: Chigiri, Reo, Isagi, Barou, Niko, Otoya, Sendou, Oliver, Ness

warnings: cursing, cringe lol

pt1 pt2

lmao I kinda totally gave up with Otoya’s cus I couldn’t think of any like flirts or pick up lines lmao, sorry @/rinitoshiily 😞

Made April 20th 2024

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gay-dorito-dust · 1 month ago

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hiii can u plssss make headcanon for mr scarletella w a reader whos very stern or careless? Like, you can NAWT make jokes or make a conversation with this person because even if u text them its either: 1) they reply a year later or 2) they just send a ❤️ Reaction to your text. Like reader can not turn their frown upside down at all…

I hope this is what you wanted.

He finds your stern nature intriguing and appealing to him. Very appealing to him to say the least.

Does this sternness and Inability to smile and or laugh at a simple joke hinder his attraction? Does it fuck, he’s still very much interested in you to an obsessive and dangerously delusional level.

If anything Mr Scarletella enjoys filling the air with his one voice, telling you of his obsession with you and you’re not saying anything in response, only giving him a sideways glance, so that must mean you reciprocated them right? Right?!

He’d most likely talk your ear off and you can do nothing but listen to him, praying that you can at some point tune him out or something, knowing that Mr Scarletella would just follow you closely like a puppy dog. There was no true escape from this man and he’s too delusional and inside his own head to give you any breathable space.

Mr Scarletella would often keep asking you ‘you like me?’ And all he’d get was either a shrug or a grunt. Not having been much of a conversationalist as most people found your nature off putting and so they just avoid you all together.

Not Mr Scarlettella though, he was convinced that the grunts and shrugs were full sentences, thriving off of the idea that you’d only grunt and shrug towards him while giving everyone else a stoney stare or nothing at all. He genuinely believed that and it was terrifying to think of the implications of what he’d do if he believed someone else thought similar to him.

Death essentially but we all knew that. The man is not exactly stable in any sense of the word.

You don’t even bat so much of an eyelid when he gets up close and personal to your face, giggling like a lovesick school boy as his eyes darted across your face, taking in all the details and features you possessed that were uniquely yours and yours alone. Giving himself all the more delusional fantasies of you acting extremely out of character and clinging onto him, demanding for affection and so forth.

He’s most likely the type to fall for an idea of an person and if they act outside of what he believes them to be, he’ll either deny it as he tries to rewrite the image he has of you to better suit his fantasies, not wanting to think about how his false reality of the truth could easily make him even more unhinged.

Seriously the idea of someone not living up to his expectations that he’s made up is a thought you didn’t want to think about too deeply, especially with not how eager he is to kill for you, and instead remain truthful to yourself and keep an eye on him in case something happens.

Since your stern persona and people’s inability to make conversations or jokes with you, Mr Scarletella would find this more easier as he didn’t have to worry about someone taking you away from him. You were his and his alone and he had your nearly unapproachable expressions to thank for.

No competition for your heart? No worries for him as it meant he could cling onto you, continuing to ask whether you liked/ loved him throughout the day while kissing your face and pulling back in hopes of seeing if any change in your expression.

There wasn’t and Mr Scarletella hasn’t fallen for you harder then he already did.

#homicipher fluff #homicipher x y/n #homicipher imagines #homicipher imagine #homicipher x you #homicipher x reader #homicipher #mr scarletella #mr scarletella x reader #mr scarletella x you #mr scarletella imagine #mr scarletella imagines #me scarletella x y/n

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ashrayus · 4 months ago

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PLSSSS MORE FANFIC RECOMMENDATIONS OF JASON TODDDD!

DUDEE!!!! really happy u asked but also omg this got long agaiN who would have thought (!) i added summaries this time tho :)

here is part one of my fic recs XD

andd heres the new ones!! pls give them some love if u read them :D

Dick and Jason:

how lonely to be something that nothing wants to kill by sunlitlemonade

There were blood drops dripping down his fingers to the ground. The puddle was big enough for it to have spread around more than half the tub. His breaths shuddered, they were shallow and waning. But he was breathing and Dick’s world centered around that.

starting strong with Angst go read all of sun’s fics i always die and get revived <333 pls mind the tags on this one

cast on/cast off by hellsreluctantheir

“This is surprisingly non-destructive for Jason,” Dick comments, lightly. In the parking lot, Jason pulls a grenade out of one of his pockets, yanks the pin, and tosses it through the roller door and out of sight, before tearing out of the parking lot in chase of the truck. “Well, for a minute there,” Dick amends. He takes a step back towards the alley the batmobile is parked in, giving Bruce a quick glance. “We following? “No,” Bruce says, as the grenade goes off. “He’s cleared the warehouse. We can get into the office.” Dick sighs again. But Jason knows he can call in if he needs help.

time loop!!! read most of this writer's fics and fell in love with them all,, go read fr

bloodstained by hellsreluctantheir

“I know where the clinic is, asshole,” Jason said. The wad of gauze he was using to keep pressure kept slipping against his shoulder. The knife had caught the space between two panels, split to allow movement. Lucky shot. “Ok, let me make sure you get there without passing out from blood loss,” Dick said, a deliberate evenness to his tone, like he was doing his best to accomodate someone who was being completely unreasonable. Shithead. “I’m not going to pass out,” Jason said, ignoring the fact that he was actually feeling pretty unsteady on his feet. He caught himself with his good shoulder on the entry to the bathroom, took a deep breath. “What would Daddy Bats think if he knew you were here, trying to help me?” “I assume something like, ‘Wow, Dick, you’re such a good brother, trying so hard to make sure Jason is ok even when he’s being a complete idiot about it,’” Dick sniped.

heres another one from them. jasons scars and dick. andd another one next

brothers in arms by hellsreluctantheir

It wasn’t like none of them went undercover. Jason practically lived there. And he’d punch anyone who tried to make it a sob story for him, to cluck over the times he’d been alone in a pit of vipers, act like it was some tragedy. But given half a minute to think about it, Dick somewhere completely cut off from everyone but Bruce, no allies on hand, surrounded by enemies. Angry as he was at the lie, there was something about that he just fucking hated. or Thinking your brother is dead and then finding out he's been alive the whole time really has a way of making you rethink the relationship.

Shelter by Ptelea

Two safe houses, two nights dealing with the aftermath of fear toxin, multiple conversations, several meals. Written for Sholio's September 2020 Comfort Fest for a prompt from Musesfool. Warning-wise, there's nothing graphic here but there are definitely references to past canon trauma for both the characters.

the way they are written here <33

Rotten Fruits by couldyoublameme

“I’m fine,” Dick assured gently, sitting up slightly. “Just a bad night, is all.” It’s a familiar phrase he has used so often. Whenever the addiction crawls back into his mind, a parasite he can never truly get rid of. The family knows what it means. Knows what the ‘bad’ is. Knows what to do. “Oh,” Jason says. “Why?”

absolutely murdered me. pls do mind the tags

You Can Do Better Than That by AlexaAffect

All Jason could hear was his own ragged breathing. He desperately gasped for air, each breath more exhausting than the last and his lungs and throat burned with the effort. In. And, he needed a second longer with every breath he took, out. His arms had been suspended for the last… 15? minutes? Jason had quit keeping track of the time, he’d been too preoccupied trying to hold himself upright, trying to ease his position, switch it up, anything to prolong the guaranteed death. “Red Hood?” That was Dick’s voice. Huh. So they had found him fast enough. Or alternatively; Dick finds a kidnapped Jason shortly before he asphyxiates.

this fic is just oddly comforting to me idk. very precious

Equivalent Exchange by Lysical

Apparently favors don't expire on death. --"What do you want, Dick?" "For you to be happy, Jay." Dick leaned over and pinched his cheek. Jason reached up and swiped at him, scowling. "And world peace."

ADORABLE and fun

Just for Now by Lysical

Jason was back in Gotham and the timing couldn't be worse for him to need assistance on a case. He didn't want to see any of the Bats and he was sure the feeling was mutual. Nightwing was the worst option for Oracle to pick to help him out.

To Reconcile by CasualDanger

“Babs slapped me at your funeral.” Jason goes to laugh, but it’s just a cough and his mouth barely even twitches up. “She hated me in that moment. I mean, really, really hated me, like I did Talia after I found out Damian had died. And I wondered,” his voice cracks, eyes glassy now, “did you hate anyone when I was gone? Because I was gone?”

he ain't heavy, he's my brother by someplacewarm

Dick's been putting off meeting with Jason for a while now, but when a distress call comes through, he has no choice but to answer. Or the one where Dick and Jason talk, fight, get high and cuddle. In that order.

making gold out of it by vmkhoney

Dick talks himself back down on the bathroom floor, clinical and detached. (For someone whose primary skill is manipulating his body, it’s not very often that he feels connected to it.) - Or, five years after Blockbuster, Dick begins teetering on the ledge of processing what Catalina did to him.

a wonderful dick grayson fic, and jason is there being a good brother. mind the tags

What Hurts You by blueyeti

Dick comes to Jason's aid when he's injured in a fight, or at least he thinks he has.

jason has no scars!! and thats also sad

at me, too, someone is looking by bacondoughnut

Dick Grayson knows he's got problems when the Red Hood's busted leg somehow becomes his concern. aka; How Dick Grayson finds out Jason Todd is alive. A story about healing.

a rather long one for my standards XD (very short attention span) but this made me sit down and read. very fun jason

Bruce and Jason:

Saltwater and Desperation by bacondoughnut

Jason's not sure how he even manages to get himself out of the harbor. He's just glad Bruce is there when he does. Not that he'll ever, ever admit as much out loud.

same writer, love this jason (and bruce) so much

Insomnolence by navree

It's not like he slept much as a kid anyway; this is just a return to the status quo. He's not overly tired, and even if he's been sleeping less than his already limited amount throughout April, that's still not any of her business. Bad memories are already bad enough even before they spend the next few years in the aftermath becoming nightmares.

navree being The bruce and jason writer for me all of their fics are so o(- (

Ash Into The Wind by navree

This is his dad in there, the first man he ever called Dad, at any rate, and even after everything, booze and jail and Bruce and death and then death again, there's never going to be a part of Jason that isn't gutted that he's dead. One night, a wraith in a red helmet slips onto the grounds of Blackgate Penitentiary to steal one specific thing.

another one from them

Trapped by lurkinglurkerwholurks

BatFam Week 2018, Day Two. Prompt: Trapped Yes, the prompt is "trapped" and it's a Jason fic. I'm so, so sorry. (Not really, though.) Please see tags for potential triggers.

binge read this writers fics recently they write them so nice

Overcoming Our Antecedents by Batbirdies

Bruce swallows, closing his eyes for a brief moment before he takes another, steadying breath and presses both hands to his face. He just needs a moment. Needs to remember where he is, what year it is, that Jason is not actually fifteen, he only looks like he is. This is temporary. This is just a temporary problem that needs to be contained until they can change Jason back. This is not a repeat of events already passed. This is not a second chance.

Jason and Batfam:

Names and Neapolitan by Muddell

“Goddamnnit Robin,” Hood is there, pulling him into his arms. Robin sees that helmet, he sees the green eyes, the dark hair, he sees open, gray, Gotham sky, and hears tires squealing, and then he sees stone. He sees the cave. Bruce is there. Alfred is there. Dick is there. And Hood is there. Robin rolls in and out of consciousness. He reaches out, snatches the smell of copper and the touch of leather, and he holds Hood’s hand and he does not let go. He’s allowed to say it now. “Jason,” he says. “Don’t leave.” Or, following Dick telling Tim about his older brother, to Tim actually knowing him.

read a couple fics from this writer all so good!!!

Six Ways to Sunday by Muddell

Jason catches Duke hiding a headache and says, is anyone going to deal with that?

same writer!! really love their jason

Settle Down and Sleep by OberonBronze

A series of vignettes about seeking comfort. Damian tries his hand at being a comfort animal; Tim shows up at Jason’s place for an impromptu sleepover; Jason bonds with his older brother after a damaging fear toxin trip; Dick and Bruce have a long-overdue conversation.

really liked jason and dick in this :)

Tuck Me In by OberonBronze

Bruce Wayne and his long-standing habit of tucking his kids into bed.

think how great it is to fall asleep (and how terrible it is to wake up) by mikkal

Jason was fifteen, barely five foot, and underweight for his age when he died. When he came back to his body, suddenly he was too tall, too scarred, too much, too different. And he just... never got used to it. (Or: 5 times a Bat noticed/discovered his body dysphoria post resurrection)

Stranger Danger by alchemistsarego, whumpinaheartbeat (alchemistsarego)

There was never one particular moment that Damian registered that he was losing consciousness. Everything simply flashed from one thing to the next, even though some part of him understood that time had been passing in between. He had been sitting upright, rolling his eyes at something someone had said, then he was on the ground being pinned by some unknowable weight. All at once the weight was gone again, replaced instead by something not only lighter, but much warmer too. A blanket? No, a jacket.

jason and others:

Past Experience by Rookblonkorules

He thinks he might be dying. Again.

clark and jason :)

Bats in the Belfry by endlessnepenthe

Hal idly wonders how long he has before he's found. Probably not very. The Bat's freaky like that. (Or, Hal goes to Gotham and discovers that Batman's brand of freaky isn't exactly one of a kind.)

jason and hal jordan??! and slade? and magic.

#jason todd #dick grayson #bruce wayne #dc #jason todd fic #fic rec

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the-fiction-witch · 4 months ago

Text

I Like Him P4

Media - House Of The Dragon Character - Oscar Tully Couple - Oscar X Reader Reader - (OC) Jaerra Targaryen [Daughter of Daemon Targaryen & Rhea Royce] Rating - 15 + mentions of childbirth / mentions of death / mentions of rape and abuse / hair pulling / loss of mothers / Word Count - 1785

Requested -

Part 4 pls 🙏 Plssss Part 4? 🥺 I really hope you are planning to write a part 4, because I love how the fic's going More of the I like him series!! Plzzz

The work began at Harenhall, Lords and Levies alike took tools in hand to help make the castle ready to host the armies of Queen Rhaenyra. Preparing the old ruins to house the Riverlords, the armies, and the thousands of men that would wait here for the queen's word.

Even Daemon was chopping wood for supports and beams of the once grand Hall.

Jaerra had been given the task of weaving rope, she found the task a little insulting being told by the lords to sit in the corner and weave while the men around her, chopped wood, broke rocks and stacked bricks but it meant she got to sit in a quiet windowsill winding cordage and braiding it into rope for … whatever tasks they needed it for.

Luckily she wasn’t alone, Oscar Tully had to been given the task to work on the rope, too too felt mildly insulted over it, given he was the youngest man in the castle he felt like kicking the man who told him. That he felt so large he could tell the Lord Paramount of the Riverlands to go and sit with a woman and weave. But Oscar didn’t argue and just wanted to help in whatever way he could, imagining he wouldn’t be overly grand at wood chopping, rock breaking or bricklaying anyway. And of course… he got to sit in a nice little corner with Jaerra and weave rope by her side.

Oscar did his best not to stare and not to plush at her but found himself far behind her in terms of making rope due to always having his eyes on her.

He sighed wistfully as he looked up once more, seeing her today wearing a simple gown of a deep red slightly bronze colour, her Targaryen blonde hair loose around her, with her one dark brown streak beside her face at times she blew on the streak whenever it fell into her eyes as she worked. He couldn’t hold back his smile, imagining her for a moment…

Sitting in the Solar of Riverrun, with the redwood walls surrounding her, the large arch of blue watery strained glass behind her as an orange sunset fades, her body leant against the craved lapping trout bedposts of the canopy bed of the lord of the Riverlands, the firelight cascading over her, wearing a mud red gown, her hair braided and beautiful but still her dark brown strand being blown from her face, a swollen belly ripe for a baby to be born, as she embroiders a silver dragon below the watery black waves, the fire crackling the only sound other than his own rapidly beating heart.

And he could stay in such a thought forever. Oh, how he wished to.

“The rope shall not weave itself my Lord Tully,” She smiled teasingly as she caught him looking,

“Oh! Yes- Of course,” Oscar jumped back into the moment, “Forgive me my lady my mind was… elsewhere,”

“Nothing to forgive, and I’ve told you before you do not need to call me a lady,”

“I know, I just… feel rude is all,”

“I would prefer it honestly,”

“... as would I,” He smiled, “I would prefer us to be plain with one another…Jaerra”

“I hope so too Oscar,” She smiled back as she worked,

He got back to his work for a while before he felt compelled to speak, “Jaerra?”

“Yes, Oscar?”

“Forgive me, but. May I ask something… that may seem personal?”

“You may,” she nodded, “I also may punch you so the choice is yours,”

He chuckled, but soon settled seriously, “It’s uhh- it’s about your hair?”

“Yes?” She raised an eyebrow at him,

“Do you mind me saying it's… unusual?” He asked, “But still very beautiful!” He jumped in to correct himself not wishing to offend her,

“It’s unusual yes.” She agreed,

“May I ask, Why?” He asked, “Targaryen’s usual have the -”

“All over blonde, I know,” she nodded,

“But you don’t?”

“I don’t,” she nodded, “I used to,”

“You did?”

“I did,” she sighed,

“And this dark brown streak just… grew over time?” He asked his hand absentmindedly moving to the dark streak of her hair putting it neatly behind her ear,

“Sort of,” she answered, “I- I pulled my hair out when I was young,”

“You- pulled your hair out?” He asked, “On purpose?”

“Yes, strangely.” she nodded with a slight scoff, “When I was little, people said my hair was perfect, that it glimmered in the sunlight like a dornish diamond, my ‘Beautiful long Targaryen blonde hair’, never once was I allowed to braid, brush or wash it myself, and I all were forbidden from cutting it. Maids would sit with me for hours just doing my hair, braiding this endless rope of hair behind my head,”

“Wasn’t that heavy?”

“Very.” She nodded, “but… I was so angry, such a sad, angry little girl. And when I was angry I would go to my chambers and I would pull my hair so hard that I would rip it from my head and burn it in my fireplace. It started small at first a few hairs, never to be missed. But… I kept doing it, and doing it,” she explained, “until my ‘beautiful long Targaryen blonde hair’ was patchy, broken, mismatched lengths, and the only thing to be done was to cut it all off.”

“Cut off? How short?”

“To the root, too short to pull out.”

“I- I bet you were still beautiful,” He cooed,

“No one told me so, all anyone said about was how nice I would look when it grew back. So… the moment a single strand got long enough I would rip it out, ripping and ripping over and over.”

“Didn’t it hurt?”

“It did, but… I didn’t care.” she said, “All I saw on my head was a sigil, I was a Targaryen and everyone knew it before they even knew who I was, and I hated it so much that I didn’t care how much it hurt.”

He softly nodded, “But when did it, turn brown?”

“Years later,” she answered, “One day I noticed it, just a few hairs. Dark brown. And I loved them so utterly,” She cooed winding her fingers around her streak, “They felt… like me, and I let them grow and grow wanting my whole head to turn this dark brown, it stopped with just this but I love it.”

“Not Targaryen, Just you,” He smiled,

“Just me,” she nodded, “Daemon hated it, I imagine he still does. But It makes me feel like me,”

Oscar nodded, “I like it too,”

“Thank you,” She smiled,

“I- I assume the brown, comes from your mother?”

She nodded, “I think so,”

“How does she feel about it?”

“I don’t know,” She said sadly, “I hope she’d like it, but she never got to see it,”

“Oh-” he gasped, “Forgive me Jaerra,”

“It’s alright,” she reassured him,

“What happened to her?” He asked gently,

“I did,” She answered, “She died, in the birthing bed.” Sadness flooded her voice,

Oscar felt a chill go down his spine, but he felt compelled to speak, “I- I lost my mother that way to,” He answered,

The two shared a look, a thousand words of understanding passed through them without a movement of their lips,

“Can I ask-”

“I don’t really know,” She said, “Few would speak of it,”

“I don’t mean to-”

“I know, it’s okay,” She softly smiled,

“Who was she?”

“Rhea, Lady of House Royce,”

“House Royce? Of Runstone?”

“The very same,”

“I have heard tales of her,”

“Many have,” she nodded, “He married my mother, becuase his grandmother Queen Alysanne demanded him to. But he hated her, and she hated him,”

“A very happy marriage then,” he joked,

“Very much,” she laughed, “Daemon avoided her and the Vale as much as he could, never even consummating their marriage… until. His brother then King Viserys demanded him to. Daemon arrived to Runstone on Caraxes too drunk to barely stand, he crawled beside her and took her. They said her screams echoed through the mountains. And she got pregnant with me,” she explained, “Daemon didn’t care he ran off god knows where, and left her alone. She sent ravens and messengers but Daemon never came. She went into labour one cold night or so they say, and I was born. A little Targaryen blonde babe. Everyone says it began to rain the moment I was born.”

Oscar softly smiled at that,

“And she held me… looked into my little eyes and she bled to death.” She explained, “The wounds too great she… passed, with me still in her arms, the maids told me once, she … was begging just to hold me one more moment, she told the Maester my name and then… she was gone,” She sniffled back a tear,

“I- I’m so sorry Jaerra,”

“It’s alright,” She nodded forcing back her sadness,

“They say that about me too?”

“What?” She asked,

“That it rained, it began to rain the moment I was born they say.” He nodded,

“What happened?” She asked gently,

“My father… adored my mother, He was Heir to Riverrun, the future Lord Tully, and she… a sweet smallwood girl, the future lady of Acorn hall. He would have moved the trident for her” He chuckled, “made her his wife when they were young and in love, of course… she was pregnant not long after. With Twins” He explained, “But… she was a small woman, thin and delicate. Birth just… ripped her apart, I came first and my father named me Oscar of House Tully. And before he was even born he named my brother, Kermit. but… they say she begged him, her hands bloody begging not to do it, saying she couldn’t do it, I had already broken her body beyond repair and she begged and cried for hours but she did it. She brought Kermit into the world, but… she was dead by the time my father held him in his arms.”

She nodded, “And your brother?”

“Dead. A day later. They say it was a miracle I survived.”

“I’m so sorry Oscar,” she said resting her hand softly on his,

He let a small smile crack across his lips, slowly intertwining his fingers with hers and rubbing his thumb softly against her skin,

“What was her name?”

“...Annie. Annie Smallwood,”

“I’m sorry you lost her,”

“I’m sorry too,” He nodded, “if it helps, I’m here and I promise I’m not going anywhere Jaerra.”

“Me either Oscar,” She smiled squeezing his hand a little, “Now come on let's finish this rope before they come to yell at us,”

“Right,” he nodded and chuckled softly, but as he looked to their rope he blushed, “Oohh uhhh we uhhh-”

“Oh!” She giggled softly,

The rope Jaerra had been braiding and the rope Oscar had been braiding had somehow gotten braided together forming one rope together,

“Well, guess we need to start over,” She chuckled,

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sunrise-imagines · 1 year ago

Note

Marshall Lee and Gary Prince x reader dating hcs? NSFW and sfw plssss (can either be together or separate IDM)

Assjdhdhjd finallyyyy, thank you so much for requesting this! I’ll keep it sfw for now but I’ll post some nsfw headcanons for them later! Hope you enjoy!

(Also there are a few references to Adventure Time characters in the beginning, so if you recognize those you get a cookie!)

TW: Mentions of abuse, skip the section marked with “***” if you want to avoid these, mentions of homophobia, rich people

Poly! Marshall Lee x Reader x Gary Prince Relationship Headcanons

***

• Since we already know a bit about Marshall, I wanted to touch a bit on Gary’s backstory just for funsies. This is where the TW comes in so skip this part if you aren’t comfortable with that

• His parents died when he was very young, so he was given custody to his Aunt Griselda and her family.

• He also has a little sister, Nadine, who has autism and is nonverbal.

• Sadly, he and his sister were verbally and sometimes physically abused by them, so at the age of 16 he got emancipated and started to live on his own while taking care of Nadine.

• He’s currently enrolled in Community College classes and hopes to improve his financial situation to help support them both.

***

With that out of the way, onto the headcanons!

• Gay gay homosexual homosexual gay-

• Y’all are that totally-in-love queer couple throuple that make homophobes that see you in public clutch their pearls (the lemoncarbs).

• You all make sure to spend time together individually as well as all together so no one feels left out.

• Gary’s dates consist of taking you to a cozy café or sneaking into the bakery after hours to make you all kinds of sweets.

• Marshall is much more unorthodox in his choices, taking you to a bar on the other side of town or exploring a vacant building before chilling on the rooftop.

• Marshall will also steal his mom’s credit cards and take you two out to fancy restaurants, ignoring several missed calls and dozens of texts from her while the three of you try everything on the menu.

• If you want to learn how to play guitar, Marshall would be happy to teach you, or have a jam session if you know how to sing or play another instrument. As for Gary, there isn’t a musical bone in the poor man’s body. Karaoke night is always a struggle to get through with him, but you both love him anyway.

• You and Marshall have a never ending supply of sweets and pastries to try, as he has you two sample all of his pastrymanchen(?) before he starts selling them.

• Now that you’re all dating, Marshall will usually crash at either your or Gary’s places instead of Fionna’s. This means Ellis P is also around sometimes, but if he gets too annoying (which he often does) just let Marshall know and he’ll gently but firmly kick his ass out.

• You all sleep in a big pile with Marshall and Gary on either side of you, basically this but with you sandwiched in the middle

• Sometimes Marshall takes you out for drives in his van, parking by an overlook and just watching the sunset with y’all.

• In the winter you guys will go to the ice skating rink! Gary is a really good skater, so he’s the one guiding you both while you and Marshall hold onto the railing and try not to fall

• Marshall wants you all to get matching tattoos, and Gary is kind of hesitant about it, but if you want it too then he’ll agree to getting a small one.

• Although it would seem like Gary does most of the cooking, Marshall isn’t bad at it either and he’ll help out in the kitchen quite often (his Dad taught him how to make a few dishes when he was a kid)

• Both of them are very supportive of your goals in life and will help you to achieve your dreams in whatever way they can.

#adventure time x reader #adventure time imagines #fionna and cake x reader #fionna and cake fanfic #fionna and cake imagine #adventure time #adventure time fanfic #marshall lee x reader #marshall lee #gary prince x reader #prince gumball x reader #gary x reader x marshall #marshall x reader x gary #sfw #sfw headcanons #marshall lee x gary prince #marshall lee x prince gumball

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