#and still have the energy to grin down at you and ask for just one more round

[stars-and-the-min]

☆ the wrong way to hard launch (14) | OP81

summary : oscar's girlfriend is a walking pr problem for literally everyone (including herself) social media au

pairing : oscar piastri x zhou!fem!singer!oc

a/n wait wait let him cook (imola)

masterlist | last part | part 14 | next part (tba)

INSTAGRAM

oscar piastri just posted to their story

TIKTOK

comments

FOLLOW UP QUESTION, WHICH RACE ????

something about a formula 1 driver and a rockstar having like the most normal story of meeting is hilarious

"took me a while to actually start dating her" i'm deadddd, u pulled her in the end tho bro

best relationship on the grid, i would die for them

didn't win the race but won her number, u have ur priorities straight

y'all gas her up too much it's not like she's that big a deal 💀 ↳ she's at least ten times more famous let's be fr for a sec, most of the world doesn't know what f1 is but they've probably heard one of lina's songs on the radio

REDDIT

r/EmptyBottles · Posted by u/luckyluna9364 1 mo. ago Lina x Oscar Timeline [read new comments]

fantstic013 · 12 hr. ago reviving this post bc of oscar's tiktok; they met at a race, which race??? when did lina attend a race?? whatthekermitdid · 11 hr. ago her f1 race debut (her words, not mine) was literally suzuka last month so i'm just as confused niaphilia283 · 11 hr. ago she might have done it behind the public's back. i think we all know that lina is only seen when she wants to be seen; we basically only saw her at scheduled events for the entirety of 2020-2023 like where was she even? what was she doing?

luckyluna9364 OP · 3 hr. ago ppl out there scrambling wondering which race but it has to at least be from the 2023 season bc i bet my whole life savings that their talking period was like 3 months so the new proposed meeting is like... abu dhabi grand prix (at the very least) which was back in december 2023

TWITTER

emme @flowersforcami · 4h still not over last night's show... the shit was phenomenal, it the cherry on top ↳ amie <3 @mieflrs · 4h i don't think we acknowledge how masochistic t*mmy must be to follow lina around europe and enduring those 2 hour shows where almost every song is the biggest middle finger to your existance; personally, if a song like aconite was written about me, i'd just never show my face again

kayla @luna_apocolypse · 5h oscar's story??? sir are you talking about the actual view or the stunning woman on the balcony?? it's important that i know

president linami @ linaminami · 6h 24 days since lina's posted on any of her socials... i can't believe i miss her unserious ass so much 🥲

oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 33m "oscar could do so much better" respectfully how do you get better than selina fucking bui? ↳ oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 33m "he should be with someone like him" she's australian, she's born in 2001, she's got cat energy, she loves sleeping and chocolate, she's slightly unhinged, she's known as a prodigy in her field, she keeps down low and most importantly, she's hot as shit, what more do you want

piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 2h he called her his lucky charm 🥺 i love them so much 😭 ↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h wait lina?? where's this from?? i have terrible signal and no videos are loading ↳ piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 2h it's from a video of them entering the paddock, someone asked him what's its like to have her at a race again and he grinned and said she's his lucky charm ↳ lila💚 @kasdanrights · 2h WAIT NO THEY'RE SO CUTE I CAN'T

MESSAGES

from the phone of oscar piastri

TWITTER

oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 4h WE'RE SO BACKKKKK

↳ piaa⁸¹ @papayaeightyone · 4h that lucky charm must be working 👀

pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 34m OSCAR PIASTRI P2 START YES YES YES

oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 21m oh he was not kidding when he said she was his lucky charm ↳ oscalina real ?! @emptyginbottles · 20m i'll have whatever he's having bc he was like a cat on steroids

jess @OPIXSTRI · 28m we were so close to a maiden pole why is it always a fucking haas ruining everything

Jonny @EB_jonno · 32m @ OscarPiastri Mega quali mate, way to absolutely send it (don't give Lina too much credit)

INSTAGRAM

oscarpiastri Autodromo Enzo e Dino Ferrari di Imola

liked by cameliazzz and 218,496 others

oscarpiastri Well, it was fun while it lasted 😂

opeightyone Time to have better fun tomorrow then

cameliazzz i bet she found it hilarious ↳ oscarpiastri @ cameliazzz She found the timing hilarious, she was pretty upset it happened

TWITTER

pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 3h oscar piastri is now incredibly familiar with the rear wing of that ferrari it's just a shame it's the hideous hp logo

oscalina real ?! @ emptyginbottles · 3h LANDO??? LANDO OML U ARE SCARING THE SHIT OUT OF EVERYONE

piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 2h i mourn the mclaren double podium we could've had... ↳ piaa⁸¹ @ papayaeightyone · 2h what matters most is that oscar finished ahead of sainz, i'm a happy woman

ZG24 future WDC · @zhoupdates · 21m the most iconic cousins are having dinner together in imola after the race

tagged: 周冠宇 | Zhou Guanyu 🇨🇳 and lina !!! ↳ clara @ zgy24 · 5m oscar finally let lina out of his sight this weekend?

INSTAGRAM

oscarpiastri

liked by logansargeant and 264,586 others

oscarpiastri En route to Florence (got really sidetracked)

amelia_belrose who gave them the right to be so cute?

pi4str1 the anticipated road trip happened 🥺 ↳ linasgirl4 @pi4str1 from a mention in a rolling stones interview to reality, they did it guys 🫶

opeightyone Nice quick break before the double header

siera_mblanc he's never looked so boyfriend before this is insane, the girlfriend effect is slowly kicking in

TWITTER

pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h something real funny about oscar driving down to florence with lina to spend a day or two before having to helicopter over to monaco by wednesday for the mclaren senna tribute livery/monaco gp promotions like 😭 OSCAR, BREATHE A LITTLE ↳ pookie piastri @op81ln4 · 2h idk how u think this is lina hate, it's just me pointing out that oscar had found a gap in his schedule and immediately went: i'm spending as much time as physically possible with my girlfriend before they forcibly drag me to monaco

Oscar Piastri @ OscarPiastri · 4h Searching my family tree to find any trace of Monégasque roots ↳ Charles Leclerc @Charles_Leclerc · 1h I can adopt you if needed ↳ Jonny @EB_Jonny · 13m did we just become in-laws to the leclercs???

piaa⁸¹ @papayaeightyone · 1h oscar piastri-leclerc 😭

✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:✧･ﾟ: ✧･ﾟ:

taglist @ririyulife @ashy-kit @fionaschicken @namgification @cherry-piee @urfavsgf @eiaaasamantha @sp1rl @destinyg237 @iloveyou3000morgan

#f1 #oscar piastri #oscar piastri x oc #oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri smau #formula 1 fanfic #formula 1 smau #f1 fic #f1 smau #f1 imagine #f1 social media au

[waterinz]

HAIII UR BLOG THEME IS SO CUTE IM IN LUV!!

more sukuna smut pretty pls 🤭 maybe something ab making reader (his favorite lover/concubine) dumb on his cocks 🤭🤭

AWWW THANK U SO MUCHHHH 🤭

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊🦈˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ☆⋆｡

One and only..

warnings: rough sex, fingering, restraining, kissing, size difference, choking, crying, pet names (love, angel), degrading (slut, whore, “BITCH” USED ONCE), cursing, true form sukuna, aftercare, dacryphillia.

pairings: tf!sukuna x concubine!femreader

A/N: i love reappearing after long periods of time! :3

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊🦈˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ☆⋆｡

Sukuna sat at his desk, looking around at his concubines, more specifically, you. His other ones couldn’t handle him like you could, round after round. Their sex drive wasn’t as high as yours, only you could fuck him in his true form for hours on end and still have energy for more. You were special to him. Other concubines hated you, not only did he give his utmost respect and allow you to call him by his name.

So it wasn’t rocket science if he chose you, almost everytime.

“Lord Ryomen, what about me..?” One cried

“Last time you ended up crying not even a hour in.” He snarled

That might’ve been his last straw with all of them, He released them all the very next day. All except for you. You even asked him why.. You follow him as he walks around

“sukuna, where’s all the other ones?” You questioned him

He turned around, looking down on you and smirked.

“Not here, love, I didn’t need them anymore.” He responded, just as fast

You kinda felt all fuzzy inside by that, He let them all go, just keeping you. As your following sukuna around, you notice this is the way to his room. He had a feeling you noticed where he was going with this.

His face said it all, the way his eyes lidded as he walked into the room with you. Looking around for something to bend you over, his eyes stopped on his desk.

Sukuna wasted no time, bending you over his desk. He already instructed that no concubine “shall walk my hallways with undergarments” which meant, nothing besides your kimono was permitted, for easy access of course. He hummed in amusement, still the only one who compiled with no problem. All the other ones would purposely wear lingerie under their kimono’s, which would force him to rip them off.

“Like a real slut.. already soaking wet.” He mocked, Rubbing a thick finger along your clit.

His degrading never sounded like he was displeased with you, more like praising. But it’s not?

Your efforts to keep quiet were futile, letting out small groans if his finger would slightly dip in as he roamed your entrance.

“Cmon.. we both know you beg for anything else, do it now.” He commanded, still wearing that same grin

“Please fuck me, Sukuna..” You’d mewl.

Sukuna smiled in amusement as he slowly pushed his finger deeper, in response, you groaned quietly.

“You’re lucky I actually like you, If not, I wouldn’t dived in with no prep.” He laughed

It was comforting to know he liked you, even if it wasn’t obvious. He caught you off guard by inserting another finger.

“Shit..” You moaned, holding back tears already.

His strokes were deep, and the farthest from unpleasant. You still couldn’t believe he was only using 2 fingers and you were about to cry. The difference between your cries and the others is yours isn’t ear splitting, he finds only slightly attractive. Sometimes he couldn’t tell if you were crying from pain or pleasure, but he really didn’t care enough to ask.

Just as you felt your high reaching, Sukuna took his fingers out with a pop.

“The only thing I allow you to come on is my cocks.” He exclaimed

You tried to not seem needy and whine. You felt his bulky forearms lift you off the ground and presses you against the wall, spreading your folds while admiring the mess he created in a matter of minutes. He fisted his cocks a few times, maybe 4 times each before strategically inserting both of his disgustingly massive cocks into both of your neighboring holes. The stretch for your cunt wasn’t as bad as it could’ve been, your ass on the other hand? It felt like Sukuna was trying to part the Red Sea between your ass.

“f-fuck..! haah-..” You babbled in between breaths.

“C’mon, whore ..” He grunted, trying to not sound too pushy.

You loved the small things, nicknames, special care, etc. His large arms held you in place as he eased himself all the way inward. Once he was fully adjusted, he wasted no time picking up the pace. You felt the need to help, so you fucked yourself back onto him with all your might. Even if it wasn’t much.

One of his hands found its way around your throat, slightly squeezing on it. He pulled your head back to face him as he made the pace unbearable and damn near impossible to match. You could visually see his smirk in your blurred vision, he lowered his head and planted a kiss on your lips. He didn’t let go easily.

You moaned against his mouth as he picked up the pace once again, leaving you speechless.

“Like a real slut, Hah-” Sukuna laughed, pulling away from the kiss as he looked down on you.

You felt yourself on edge already, Sukuna sensed it by the way you sped up.

“su-sukuna.. I’m-” You were cut off

“Cumming? I know, love” He giggled, still practically ramming himself into you.

Embarrassed was an understatement, were you really that easy to read? Probably not, but he knew a little too much about your sex patterns. Your orgasim washed over you in a wave of pure bliss, completely stopping yourself. But Sukuna couldn’t care less, he kept going. Not long after, he felt himself speeding up with the last bit of stamina he had.

“Fuck…” He groaned before letting a long rope into you.

Short breaths were exchanged in utter silence until he broke it.

“Round 2? Or you’re much too dumb for that?” He laughed

“Never” You giggled in return.

☆⋆｡𖦹°‧★˚˖𓍢ִִ໋🌊🦈˚˖𓍢ִ✧˚.‧₊˚🖇️✩ ₊˚🎧⊹♡ ☆⋆｡

#waterinzwork🦈 #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #:3 #jjk au #sukuna smut #ryomen sukuna #sukuna #sukuna x reader #sukuna x you #sukuna x y/n #sukuna ryomen smut #jjk ryomen #jujutsu kaisen ryomen #ryomen x reader #jujutsu ryomen #silly goober #goober :3 #daddy sukuna 😍😍

[uniquexusposts]

The politician's daughter (2)

Main characters: James Beaufort x reader Genre: fanfiction, fluff, TV show  Word count: 3335 Requested by: @marjoriesemente Note: there will be a third part because the ideas keep on coming into my head :))

Summary: the first house party for Y/N, how will that end up?

Click here to go to part 1

One week later, Y/N and Amelia were invited to a house party. It was a girl from their class who happened to share the details, so Y/N and Amelia, being curious, showed up to see what was happening. They heard so many different stories about it that they didn’t know what to believe or expect. They arrived at Wren’s house, the thumping bass and laughter spilling into the night air. The mansion was lit up with twinkling lights, and the sound of people enjoying themselves filled the atmosphere. As they walked up the driveway, passing some of the most expensive cars and their chauffeurs, Amelia glanced at Y/N with a grin. 

“You ready for this?” Amelia asked, excitement in her eyes. 

Y/N smiled back. “Absolutely. You have been to this before, right?” 

“Yeah, a couple of times,” Amelia said and pushed open the door. 

They stepped inside, immediately greeted by the warmth and energy of the part. The living room was packed with students, some dancing, others chatting in groups. The kitchen island was covered with various drinks and snacks, and the air smelled faintly of perfume and cologne, mingled with the scent of various beverages. 

The smell of the rich and expensive. 

Amelia led Y/N through the crowd, introducing her to a few familiar faces. Y/N looked around and recognised Wren, who was holding court in the centre of a group, his infectious laughter rising above the music. These people were so different from where she came from… Y/N ignored it and looked back at her group of people. They grabbed drinks and started dancing in the living room. The music was loud, and the rhythm infectious. Y/N found herself letting go, swaying to the beat and laughing with Amelia as they moved to the music. 

Unbeknownst to them, James stood on the other side of the room, leaning against a wall with a drink in his hand. His eyes followed Y/N as she danced, and his frown was on his face. He watched her interact with the others, her laugh genuine and carefree. It was a side of her he hadn’t seen before, and it intrigued him. Just like her outfit, he first saw her in clothes other than the school uniform. She was wearing straight-legged trousers; he couldn’t tell what colour they were, but they looked cherry red. And it looked like it was leather. She wore a black top, and her hair perfectly framed her face. 

Cyril nudged James with his elbow, a knowing smirk on his face. “She is interesting, huh?” 

James rolled his eyes but didn’t deny it. “Just making sure she’s not causing any trouble.”

“Right,” Cyril said, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “Because she’s such a troublemaker.”

James ignored Cyril’s comment and took another sip of his drink, his gaze still fixed on Y/N. He watched as she threw her head back in laughter at something someone said to her, her eyes sparkling with joy. There was something magnetic about her, something that drew people in, and it was clear she was fitting in effortlessly. Yet she was an outsider. 

The next song came on and everybody seemed to enjoy singing along; Locked Out Of Heaven by Bruno Mars. His eyes were fixated on Y/N; she was singling along unashamed with her friends. At some point, her group became the main show to watch as they seemed to have the most fun of all. It wasn’t annoying; people enjoyed seeing them so passionately. Y/N’s eyes briefly met James’ and he left like all the air got squeezed out of his lungs. 

The Y/N effect. 

As the night wore on, Y/N and Amelia took a break from dancing and headed to the backyard, where people stood around the pool, chatting and dancing. Y/N sat down on a pool bed while Amelia was getting some drinks. 

Just then, James appeared, seemingly out of nowhere. He approached Y/N, his eyes locking while he walked over to her. 

“Mind if I join?” He asked, his tone casual. 

Y/N raised her eyebrows, being impressed by his behaviour. “Even if I said no, you still would sit here,” she mumbled under her breath. 

James wanted to sigh out of frustration, but he held it back. He sat down next to her. They sat there in silence, both looking in front of them. 

The reflection of the twinkling lights danced on the water, creating a serene backdrop for the tension between them. The distant sounds of laughter and music from the party filled the air around them, but they felt like they were in their own little bubble of quiet tension.

After a moment, Y/N broke the silence. “So, what is your deal?”

James glanced at her, his eyebrows lowered and squinting his eyes slightly. “My deal?”

“Yeah,” she replied, turning slightly to face him. “What’s your deal? During class you don’t even bother to show me around, like a buddy is supposed to do. And suddenly, you’re sitting next to me at a party.”

He let out a low chuckle, more of a sigh than a laugh. “My deal? I don’t owe you any explanations. If I felt like sitting here, than I sat here. Simple as that.”

Y/N’s jaw clenched, irritation flickering in her eyes. “Well, lucky me,” she sighed, her tone dripping with sarcasm. “I must be so honoured to have your charming company.”

“Believe me,” he replied, his smirk widening into a sneer. “The feeling is not mutual.”

The tension between them crackled in the air, thick and suffocating. Y/N felt her temper flaring, but she bit back her retort, not wanting to satisfy him.

They sat in silence, the distant sounds of the party serving as a stark contrast to the hostility between them. Y/N’s mind raced, trying to devise a way to diffuse the situation or at least escape it.

“So,” James spoke up, breaking the silence. “What’s the deal with you, huh? Why are you even here?”

Y/N narrowed her eyes, refusing to let him see how much his words stung. “I could ask you the same thing,” she shot back, her voice dripping with disdain. “What, did your ego need stroking or something?”

James chuckled, a dark, humourless sound. “Please,” he replied, his tone mocking. “I don’t need anyone to stroke my ego.” He looked at her. “But can I at least offer you a drink now we’re mocking around?”

“No, thanks,” she replied. 

“Wine, beer…” 

“No, thank you.”

“Anything else?” 

Y/N sighed loudly, turning to him. “I don’t drink. Besides, I don’t want to be served by you.”

“Oh, you are the driver, I see. Where is your chauffeur from daddy?” James said, his smirk growing wider. 

Y/N licked her lips and scanned his face; there was something she liked about snapping towards him. Maybe because she disliked him, it made it easier to shoot back at comments he made. “I did not drink yesterday, I do not drink today and I will not drink tomorrow.”

“Scared of a public scandal?” James smirked, referring to his scandals within the family that got publicly. He leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest. 

Y/N faked a smile on her face. “Trauma,” she mentioned cynically. “Brother who almost died because of alcohol poisoning.” 

James’ face straightened, and he parted his lips. He did not see this coming, and he immediately regretted saying it. His eyes followed her when she got up. 

“It’s the most dangerous thing to ever make assumptions about people, James. Enjoy your night,” she professionally smiled and walked away from him. 

As Y/N walked away, James watched her, a mix of regret and curiosity flickering in his eyes. He hadn’t expected that response, and it left him unsettled. Maybe he didn’t know her after all. She looked like a girl who was an open book, but he was wrong. She wasn’t just the daughter of a politician; there was more beneath the surface.

* * * 

Y/N walked off the stairs in her house when she heard the doorbell ring. She immediately looked at the time on her phone: who could this be? She expected to be home alone all day since her mum was out of town with friends and her brother was cycling with his friends. Wondering, she walked to the front door and opened the door. 

“James Beaufort.” She blinked, genuinely surprised. “What are you doing here?” Before he could answer, she asked him another question. “How do you know I live here?” 

“Have you started the project yet?” James asked, putting his hands casually in the pockets of his trousers. 

Y/N squeezed her eyebrows together. At the beginning of this week, they got paired up for a project that needed to be finished on Monday. In two days. She crossed her arms in front of her chest. “Have you?” 

“No.”

She sighed and looked away. “That’s why I didn’t start on it either. Did you really think I would do this project on my own and let you benefit from it?” 

“That is why I’m here, Y/N L/N,” James amusingly smiled. “You’ve got time today?” 

Y/N hesitated, then stepped aside. “Come in, I guess.” 

James walked in, glancing around the small hall. The house was semi-detached, completely renovated and quite large for this type of house. If he was honest, he expected more. He expected a home that reflected the wealth and status of Y/N’s family. This wasn’t how Maxton Hall students lived. Y/N led him to the living room, where the sunlight streamed through the patio doors. 

“Expected more?” Y/N smirked and stood in the middle of the living room. James only looked at her. “How’s the hangover? Or are you still drunk to think that this is a great idea?”

James chuckled, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. “No hangover, and no, I'm not drunk. Just determined to get this project done. But thanks for your concern.” He showed a forced smile. “I figured we should actually get the project done, and it’s better if we work on it together.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow. “You mean it’s better if I do the work and you take credit?”

He had a slight smirk playing on his lips. “I’m here, aren’t I? That means I’m willing to put in the effort.”

She slowly nodded. “Alright then,” she breathed. “Let’s set up the table outside; the weather is nice.” She opened the two patio doors, letting the outside in on the house.

The fresh air and the soft sounds of birds chirping filled the living room. Y/N walked outside and grabbed the cushions from the shed. She put them on the chairs and put a tablecloth over the wooden table. James stepped outside and looked at the garden. Again, it was small, but it was cosy. There was a small field of grass, many flowers, and a tree. It was a well-maintained garden. 

“Take a seat,” Y/N invited him. “Can I get you a coffee or something else?” A small smile peaked through her stubborn look. 

“A coffee, please,” he replied and sat down on a chair. 

“Black, cappuccino, iced?” 

James looked at her after he had taken a moment to appreciate the serene surroundings. She was wearing an oversized T-shirt and linen shorts. Her hair was up in a claw clip. No makeup on her face. Then his eyes fell on the massive blue bruise on her thigh. “Whatever you have,” he said, still looking at the bruise. “What happened there?” 

“Fell off my bike. Braked too late and slid off my bike,” she briefly mentioned. 

James watched as Y/N disappeared into the house, still thinking about the bruise. It didn't quite fit his image of her: controlled, composed, almost untouchable. He shook his head slightly, leaning back in his chair and letting his eyes roam over the garden again. Despite its small size, it was inviting, a little oasis of calm.

Y/N returned a few minutes later with two glasses of coffee. She handed one to James, who took it with a nod of thanks. “Iced cappuccino,” she said and walked back inside again. She brought some snacks and glasses of water to the table. Once she settled into the chair opposite him, she opened her laptop. “The project.”

“Yeah. We have to set up a fictional company. Any ideas?” 

“I don’t want a clothing brand or something with politics-related stuff.”

“Noted.”

It was silence. They both were thinking about company ideas. While they were thinking, the birds chirped around. 

“Technology?” James proposed. 

“Hmm, I don’t know. Perhaps…” Y/N took a deep breath. “I would say makeup, but no.”

“If you want to do makeup, we can make it work.”

“Hmm, no.”

It went on for almost thirty minutes. They exchanged ideas ranging from eco-friendly products to various services, but none seemed to stick. Each time one of them felt convinced about an idea, they struggled to back it up with a solid plan.

James was fidgeting with a pen and sat slumped on the chair. “The first thing that comes to your mind,” he said, bored and pointed at Y/N. “Three… Two… One… Go, say it.”

Instant panic flickered through her eyes. “Uh… Coffee!” They looked at each other. “It’s the first thing that came to my mind,” Y/N shrugged. 

“Uhu, not judging you,” he replied, putting his hands up in the air. “And what about coffee?”

She blew her cheeks up. “A subscription box?” Y/N sat up and straightened her back. “Honestly, I would love to have a subscription because then I would never run out of coffee. And if there’s a physical store and I only have to scan my subscription for a coffee and bill afterwards, the world would be a lot better.”

“Are you addicted to coffee?” He tilted his head, and a smile played on his lips. 

“No.”

He raised his eyebrows. 

“No, for real. I drink one coffee a day, not more.”

“If you say so.”

As they brainstormed and exchanged ideas, the initial tension between them seemed to fade. They found themselves working well together, their ideas complementing each other’s. The conversation flowed naturally, punctuated by the occasional joke or sarcastic comment.

While they were working on the plan, a woman entered the house. Y/N didn’t look up at it, but James couldn’t help but steal a glance. It could be Y/N’s mother. When he saw the woman nearing the backyard, he quickly looked back at the laptop. 

“Good afternoon,” the woman greeted the two students. 

“Hey, mum,” Y/N smiled warmly when she saw her mother entering the garden. “How was your day?” 

“Perfect, couldn’t imagine a better day for afternoon tea,” Y/N’s mother replied. Her eyes shifted to James. “I don’t think we’ve met before. I’m Y/N’s mother.”

James stood up politely and extended his hand. “James Beaufort, nice to meet you, Mrs. L/N.”

She shook his hand, a pleasant smile on her face. “Nice to meet you too, James. Beaufort? From the clothing brand?” She squinted her eyes. 

“Yes, that is right,” he nodded. 

“Ah, from the school uniform. And your dad has suits from Beaufort as well,” Y/N’s mother said to Y/N. “Anyway, I won’t disturb you two anymore,” she smiled. “But let me know if you need anything.” 

“Thank you, Mum,” Y/N replied, her smile still in place as her mother left the garden.

As her mother stepped back inside the house, James could hear her mumble that she wanted to take the scarf off her head. He watched her remove the scarf from her head, and his jaw dropped. His eyes quickly met Y/N’s eyes. 

“Do you mind me asking…” James began, his voice trailing off.

Y/N looked questioningly at him, but then realised her mother had removed her scarf. “Cancer,” she answered. “But she beat it. She’s still recovering.”

James’s expression softened, a flicker of empathy crossing his features. “I’m sorry to hear that. I didn’t know.”

Y/N nodded, her gaze steady. “It’s okay. She’s a fighter. It’s been tough, but we’re getting through it.”

James was silent for a moment, absorbing the weight of her words. It was a side of Y/N he hadn’t seen before, a glimpse into her challenges outside of school. He felt a pang of guilt for the way he had treated her, the assumptions he had made. 

Just a few moments after that, Y/N’s brother entered the garden from the back. He looked like a professional cyclist, wearing tight cycling gear and a helmet tucked under his arm. Y/N’s brother introduced himself to James and greeted Y/N, quickly sharing his cycling journey of the day. 

Y/N slightly blushed. “Sorry, it’s always a bit chaotic when everybody gets home.”

The corners of James’ lips curled up. “Don’t worry. It’s different. My house is usually pretty quiet. When is your dad coming home?”

“Not,” Y/N mumbled, looking down. “He doesn’t live with us anymore. He lives in London.”

“Oh.” 

“He had always been working in the politics. When I was ten years old, he became a minister. Two years ago, he became the vice president. My mum got cancer at the same time. My brother the alcohol poisoning. It didn’t work. So a month ago, when my mum got cancer-free, they decided to separate for now. My mum, my brother and I moved here; my dad has a career in London, and yeah, that’s life,” she shrugged, keeping her tone casual. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” he whispered. James felt a pang of guilt for his earlier comments. He had been quick to judge her life based on surface impressions. “I’m sorry I called your mother with your last name. I…”

“It’s fine. They are separated, not divorced. Everything is under my dad’s last name. Don’t worry about it,” she smiled. 

An awkward silence settled between them. James could sense there was more to Y/N’s story than she let on, but he didn’t want to pry further.

“Anyway, the company,” Y/N said, switching the subject. 

Hours passed as they worked side by side, bouncing ideas off each other and gradually shaping their project into something they were both proud of. James felt a genuine sense of collaboration and understanding with Y/N for the first time. It was a refreshing change from the tension that had defined their previous interactions.

When they finally wrapped up their brainstorming session, Y/N stretched and looked at James with a satisfied smile. “I think we’ve got a solid plan. Thanks for coming over and working on this with me.”

James returned her smile, feeling a sense of accomplishment. “Yeah, we make a pretty good team. Who would have thought?”

Y/N chuckled softly. “Certainly not me.”

As James prepared to leave, he glanced around the garden once more, appreciating the tranquillity it offered. “You have a nice home, Y/N. It’s... cosy.”

“Thanks,” she replied, her tone sincere. “And thanks for understanding.”

James nodded, a newfound respect for Y/N settling in. “If you have time, we can meet up tomorrow? For the presentation and the finishing touches?”

“Sounds like a plan.

“At mine? Twelve o’clock?”

“Sure, see you tomorrow. And send me your address; unfortunately, I don’t have my ways,” she smiled. 

“I will,” he smirked. 

As he walked away, James couldn’t help but feel that this project had given him more than just a grade—it had given him a glimpse into Y/N’s world, and a chance to reevaluate his own judgments and assumptions. 

#james beaufort #maxton hall #maxton hall the world between us #james beaufort fluff #james beaufort x reader #james beaufort reader fluff #james beaufort reader #james beaufort y/n fluff #maxton hall die welt zwischen uns #damian hardung #james beaufort x y/n

[carnivorousyandeere]

Quinn is my daddy 🥰

So true… she’ll never let you forget it, either~

( MDNI, No Age in Bio DNI )

It’s all too easy for Quinn to pin you down, pick you up, leave you breathless and light-headed. She’s so much stronger than she looks, and she already looks so damn strong, especially with a tank top and her hair pulled back in a braid, revealing her muscular arms and shoulders glistening with sweat as she works outside…

She’s got effortless swagger, unending confidence. She’ll grin just as easily and smugly whether you fold from the heat of her hungry gaze and beg for Daddy to touch you, or whether she ends up sliding her belt from her waist and looping it around her hand ‘cause you’ve decided to test Daddy’s patience instead.

She can do it all, too… she’s enthusiastic about pleasuring you, using you, like it’s a sport, and she’s training to go for the gold.

Licking and sucking at you like she can’t get enough. And maybe she can’t, she’ll keep going until you push her off, or until you cry…

Riding you nice and slow, letting you feel the way she squeezes around you and grinds against you so pointedly, or riding you so hard and fast you think you might break…

Spreading you open on her skilled, calloused fingers… sliding her strap into you, her thrusts steady in rhythm and force until you ask for more… she’s practically got the stamina to last for days.

#Quinn would use riding Darling’s cock/strap as a thigh workout… going so slow until her muscles are trembling #more from the strain than the pleasure 🤭 #and still have the energy to grin down at you and ask for just one more round #oc Quinn #yandere farmgirl #my thoughts #yandere #yandere oc #yandere imagines #yandere scenarios #yandere x darling #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere cw

[yueebby]

indulge me? — gojo satoru

synopsis you and gojo go on an overnight mission and it goes wrong in every way

contents so. much. pining. (2.8k words of it!?), one bed trope, whipped!gojo, ooc gojo, completely self indulgent, a lot of cardiovascular talk, they’re first years in this!

notes first time i’ve written in AGES. sorry :3 ps this is a little snippet from a satosugu x reader series im thinking about starting. thoughts?

(edit: i wrote a part ii)

Gojo Satoru was born blessed. From birth and to death he will always be honored. It wasn't his fault that the Heavens delighted in him. So when Yaga had announced that he and you would be sharing an overnight mission to Kyushu, he nearly leapt in joy (lucky him)!

You, on the other hand, were less than thrilled to find out that you were going to be traveling alone with Gojo Satoru. For two whole days. It was a death sentence.

“Make sure to text me, so I know you're not dead.” Shoko looks between you and Gojo. Either your head will implode as a result of Gojo, or he is gonna be on the receiving end of your wrath. Shoko can’t wait to see which.

“Do take pictures, I heard the onsens there are incredible.” Suguru slyly adds. Satoru perks up at his comment. The two of them share a knowing look before Gojo speaks up.

“Wanna take a dip with me once we get there, [Name]?” He looks into your eyes, his lips are quirked upwards like he’s up to no good (which he is). “I promise I won’t take a peek!” He winks.

“Keep fantasizing, Gojo.”

“Oh I will.” He hums happily. The smile on his lips is kind of cute, you decide. Just a little.

— — — — — — — 

Kurokawa, you come to find out is a very small town in Kyushu. So when people start to go missing, the entire town falls into shambles. Before your trip, Yaga had made it known the enemy you’d be facing. 

“A common denominator of the missing persons is that they were all young women.” He had warned you and Gojo. “It’s an unidentified curse, but I trust that the two of you will be able to handle it.”

Three missing girls. All under the age of 25. Two of which were locals, one being a tourist. 

The moment you arrive on the island of Kyushu, your guard is higher than ever. This doesn’t go unnoticed by Gojo.

“Don’t tell me you’re scared of some horny curse,” He looks down at you as the two of you make your way down a small street to your ryokan. Kurokawa was a traditional town, its pride resting on the old culture causing it to be untouched by modern architecture.

Unamused by his nonchalant attitude, you decide to ignore his vulgar comment, “What grade curse do you think we’re up against?”

He makes a noise to show that he’s thinking. “Does it really matter? It’ll be no match for me either way.”

You roll your eyes, “Don’t get ahead of yourself, we still have to figure out what happened to the victims.”

“I don’t see why that’s necessary, but okay.” Your snow haired peer dismisses. It makes you a bit envious that he doesn’t have to ever feel fear for his life. Must be nice.

The two of you arrived at your designated ryokan soon enough, it was a small town after all. Gojo leads the way with you following right after. You can’t discern any cursed energy in the building, but you still make a mental note to ask Gojo about it after you both are situated. 

An elderly lady in an orange kimono stood behind the desk, smiling at you and you returned it back happily.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen a young couple here.” She says. That’s right, with the recent disappearance of young girls, there would be a sudden decrease of tourism around this part of town. “You certainly are a beautiful match!”

You gratefully accept her compliment, “Thank you, but we’re not–”

“Thanks granny!” Gojo wraps a strong arm around your shoulder. “I don’t know how I even managed to win her over!” There’s a wide grin on his face that makes your eye twitch. Leave it to him to tell people the two of you were together. Not only that but he totally disrespected the old lady with his informal talk!

“Unhand me, you!” You forcefully whisper at him, while trying to unwrap yourself from his hold. His arm does not budge even as you try to push it off. What the hell is this boy eating? Gojo chuckles with the old lady while you struggle.

“My, the two of you remind me so much of my husband and I in the days of our youth,” She sighs dreamily. Her age must be interfering with her memory because there was nothing inherently romantic going on between you and Gojo. “How long will you be staying here?”

“Only one night,” Gojo decides that he has tormented you enough and lets you go. He slides her his card and she pulls out something from the old wooden counter she stands behind. 

A single key.

Your eyes bug out. Gojo’s eyebrows raise. You laugh nervously, face feeling warmer than it was thirty seconds ago.

“There must have been a misunderstanding. We need two rooms, ma’am.” You hold up two fingers to emphasize your point. 

The smile on the old woman’s face falls, “I’m afraid I cannot do that.” Your jaw drops.

“Huh? Why not?” You press on further. Surely they could not have been booked out of all of their rooms. Tourism is at an all time low after the strange disappearances.

“I’m sure you’ve heard of the strange disappearances in the area. It’s a miracle the two of you have even decided to stay here, which I am very grateful for. That is why I must repay you back by ensuring your safety. Otherwise I must ask you to leave and stay in the next town because I will not allow you to endanger yourself so carelessly.” 

You blink. Neighboring town? That was hours away. The curse was here in Kurokawa. You can’t afford to jeopardize a mission just because of your own feelings.

Gojo’s hand is halfway to the key, but he waits for your approval. You sigh.

“It’s fine, we can do one. Thank you.” You bow your head. She smiled apologetically as she handed Gojo the key. Gojo, unbothered by the revelation, whistles happily as the lady leads the way to your suite.

— — — — — — — 

operation satoru x [name]!!!!

Gojosatowu added getosugu, shoko.ieiri

Gojosatowu You wont believe it!!! shoko.ieiri What the hell is this gc And what the hell is Operation satoru x [name]?  getosugu  how come [name] isn’t in this? Gojosatowu Ladies, ladies, one question at a time please getosugu  Expect a forehead flick for that comment shoko.ieiri  Stfu and just answer the questions Gojosatowu alright alright [name] and i are sharing a room in kyushu!! i may come out of this mission a changed man. shoko.ieiri  someone make sure [name] is still alive and well Gojosatowu I dont appreciate your lack of faith in me >:( shoko.ieiri  Keep a six feet distance from her at all times perv Gojosatowu I might have to for my own sanity. What do you think she wears to bed? shoko.ieiri  You disgust me sometimes getosugu  Only sometimes? shoko.ieiri  Let me correct myself. You disgust me. Gojosatowu Im feeling the love :(

“What are you giggling to yourself about?” You place a hand on your hips as you watch Gojo smile at his flip phone.

“Oh don’t you worry about it,” He closes it. Weird. “What’s the living situation?”

You sigh. “Despite its traditional arrangement, there is a bed.”

Gojo perks up. “Yeesh I’m glad! If I had to sleep on the floor my back would be all sore right on a mission. Y'know how annoying that is?”

You suck your teeth. “Allow me to rephrase myself. There is only one bed.” 

There is an awful silence in the room, save for your erratically beating heart. Of course the old woman decided to place you in a couple’s suite.  

“Heh.” Gojo chortles happily. “Wow, this must be a divine sign from God Himself. I mean, who are we to ignore this?”

“Don’t start,” You hold out an accusatory finger at him. “I’m gonna go request an extra futon.”

He pouts, “Don’t be like that, sharing a bed with me can’t be that bad.”

“I’m willing to bet otherwise.” You walk past him. The white haired boy watches you go like a sad puppy.

— — — — — — — 

You took your time getting an extra futon, using it as an excuse to get all of the nervousness out of your system of sharing the same room as Gojo Satoru. Sharing a room with a boy was already bad enough, but Gojo? Your heart skipped a beat (out of nervousness, you insist!).

By the time you make it back to the room, the lights are out. You assume that Gojo decided to go to sleep early. You don’t blame him. Tomorrow is gonna be a long day of hunting for the curse rampaging Kurokawa. 

The only light source in the room is coming from the bathroom. You sigh. The idiot must’ve forgotten to turn it off. Nonetheless, you were gonna go get unready either way so you make your way to the half open door.

On the sink is a complimentary toothbrush that you help yourself to. You apply some paste and–

There is a sound of something sliding shut from behind you. You look up at the mirror. Standing behind you was Gojo. Wet. And naked. 

“Oh my gosh!” You spit out your toothpaste and ran out of the room. How did you fail to see that Gojo was in the restroom? You blame it on the sliding doors separating the shower from the rest of the bathroom. Oh my gosh. Your face feels like it’s on fire. He has a six pack. And why does his stupid hair look like that when it's wet? Your heart was beating at an abnormal rate. This is so inappropriate.

Shortly after your freakout, Gojo steps out of the bathroom. There was no way you could face him now.

“Aw, don't be so shy now. It’s not like this will be the last time you’ll see me like this.” Gojo stands in the doorway. There is a towel wrapped around his waist, still leaving him indecent in your eyes.

“I don’t like what you’re insinuating Gojo! And lock the door when you’re in the restroom you creep!” You look anywhere but him.

“Hey, it wasn’t my fault, was it? You were taking so long I thought you left me here alone.” You can practically hear him pouting. “Either way, you were the one checking me out.”

Your eyes widen, “I was not checking you out! Don’t flatter yourself.”

“Don’t feel ashamed, this can all be yours,” He gestures down to his body.

“You freak.” you blanch.

He winks at you.

This was going to be a long night.

— — — — — — — 

It takes you about half an hour to calm down from the bathroom catastrophe. By now, you’re situated in your futon while Gojo is tucked on the bed. If you had to guess, it’d be nearing midnight around now. You just need to close your eyes and get some sleep before your mission tomorrow.

Except you can’t sleep.

Every time you close your eyes, your mind betrays you and an image of Gojo post shower illustrates itself in your mind. And it doesn’t help that he sleeps shirtless. You seriously need your mind cleansed.

That wasn’t your only issue. The room was sub zero. Who knew traditional ryokans had such advanced air conditioning systems? All you could hear was the air conditioning machine overworking itself. You could even argue that it was colder than Shoko’s morgue. And your sleep shirt and shorts were doing little to help insulate you. 

“Wanna come cuddle with me?” The last person you wanted to hear from breaks the silence. You pretend to be asleep. “I know you’re not asleep! My six eyes tell me that you’re shivering.” Busted.

“I am not cuddling with you.” You stare at the ceiling above you, arms crossed. How could he even propose such an idea? Has he no shame?

“Well I can’t face the old granny here if my girlfriend ends up dead by freezing!”

“I am not your girlfriend, Gojo. Nor will I die.”

“That’s not what she thinks. Plus we have a mission tomorrow, so I can’t have you getting sick on me now.”

“I’ll be fine, Gojo. Now go to sleep.”

“I run hot when I sleep, y’know. Let me be your personal heater.” You don’t have to see his face to know that he’s grinning.

“I refuse.”

“Well I refuse your refusal.”

You blink.

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me. Now c'mon,” He pats the spot next to him. “I’ll even make a wall in between us.”

You hear the bedsheets shuffle and you have to sit up to see that Gojo was stacking two pillows in the middle of the bed to prove his point. You’re nearly certain that the only thing you’ll be catching soon is a headache if you keep up with his antics. It was a tempting offer, one that you would surely accept if it wasn’t Gojo Satoru.

“Gojo, I—”

“...Please?” His voice is softer than you have ever heard it. It was unfair how Gojo was making it harder and harder to reject his offer.

A silent moment passes by.

“...Fine,” You reluctantly get up from your pathetic excuse of a futon. “But no funny business!” You warn him. 

You see Gojo perk up from the bed. He looks at you with expectant eyes, “You got it!” He gives you a thumbs up. 

Whatever. If Gojo knew what was best for him, he wouldn’t try anything. You take in a deep breath before turning to face the opposite direction of where Gojo laid. 

“Good night [Name],” You hear Gojo whisper. You sigh.

“Yeah, yeah, goodnight Gojo.”

Eyes closed, you pray a silent prayer that everything will be fine for the remainder of the mission.

— — — — — — — 

Ever since Gojo was young, his body has been used to getting little amounts of sleep. Unsurprisingly, that caused him to have a natural alarm. It was always annoying whenever he woke up at the crack of dawn on a day when he didn't need to, but luckily for him, today it proved to be a blessing. There was an unfamiliar warmth radiating onto his body. Satoru opens his eyes.

He thinks he feels all of his six eyes widen when he feels himself wrapped around another body.

There you were, in all your beauty, lying fast asleep. In his embrace. Soft snores were escaping your mouth and there were stray hairs in your face. Did he mention how beautiful you looked sleeping? He might have to ask Shoko about heart disease because of how fast his heart was beating.

Unfortunately for him, you also seemed to be drifting away from dreamland and back to reality. Your eyes flutter and your eyebrows furrow. Gojo takes this to his advantage and does the worst thing he can think of; pretend to be asleep.

When you wake up, your mind is still hazy from the good night’s rest you had gotten, but not hazy enough to realize that your body was tangled with another’s. And you’re pretty sure the pillow you had been laying on last night was not this hard. You try to delude yourself into believing that this is all a dream, but the effects of your sleep were fading.

It takes all the strength in you to summon the courage to open your eyes. To your horror, you were firmly wrapped in Gojo’s arms and your legs were intertwined.

“What the hell?” You pull yourself away from him. On the floor below the bed laid the two pillows that Gojo had set up as a makeshift wall. You stare at them utter shock.

“No, don’t go, I’ll freeze to death,” Gojo whines, miraculously waking up. You glare at him.

“Explain to me what just happened or I swear Gojo, I’m going to–” You try to threaten him, but you can’t seem to formulate anything.

Unlike you, Gojo looked unbothered by the sudden turn of events. He even looked pleased. There was a lopsided smile on his face as he sighed, “What can I say, I guess you subconsciously want me after all.” 

"I do not—"

“But if I had to guess, I’d say the room got too cold and we most likely cuddled for warmth unconsciously.” He shrugs it off like it was no big deal. You note that his hair is tousled from the night before.

You leave the warm bed you and Gojo had made. His theory was probably true, meaning it was neither of your faults. You purse your lips.

“I suppose that makes sense. I apologize for overreacting, I guess I was under the impression that we had done something lewd last night.” With that comment, you make your way to the bathroom to freshen up both your mind and body.

You don’t end up seeing how red Gojo’s face got. It was foreign to feel all the blood rising to his cheeks. He takes one of his hands to slap it over his eyes before chuckling to himself. Yeah, he definitely knows why he likes you. 

All of a sudden Gojo feels like he’s on top of the world. For you, it was just a moment of weakness.

┊⋆｡˚. ੈ ┊

Extra notes:

gojo wished he and you got to go to the onsen together. 

gojo also regretted not taking a photo of you sleeping soundly in his arms. it would’ve been his new wallpaper. 

for the remainder of the trip, gojo was at an all time high, successfully locating and exorcising the curse in less than an hour.

#i’d like to think they had a meet ugly that made him fall head over heels for [name] #[name] also believes her sole purpose on this earth is to humble him hehe #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo satoru x you #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #gojou satoru x you #gojo satoru x y/n #gojou satoru x y/n #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jujutsu kaisen x reader #kt.writes.·:*¨༺ #i feel like i didnt make gojo mean enough. maybe next time #remember spring days!au

[jyoongim]

ANON ASKED: realder is a shy doe that’s like 5ft. She pretty much avoids Alastor like her life depends on it, because he makes her uncomfortable, and of course he knows he does. She goes into heat, but doesn’t find a partner. She just gets very tired and just goes into hibernation. Alastor find that very interesting to say the least. After staying at the hotel for so long, their heats sync and its a mess for him and she isn’t aware of it.

Degrading, voice kink, size kink, and breeding kink. Ear and tail pulling??? Fem! Reader receiving

So i think i missed a few marks and then it spiraled but i did my best to fulfill your request as best my ability!!!!

@animeloveruwu1234

As the weather got colder, you started to rarely be seen around the hotel. Your heat was rolling around and the urge to nest was nagging you.

You sighed, rolling out of bed and heading down for breakfast.

You were greeted with the scent of warm deliciousness. You pile your plate full of food, opting for more sweets and meats to the surprise of the other residents.

“ Christ.  Slow down Toots, you’re gonna choke.” Angel laughed as you munched happily on a avocado toast sausage bacon mix.

You giggled “Its winter Angel, i have to pack on some weight. I tell you every year” Your ears perked in alert when static ran up your body. Your ears drooped when Alastor entered the kitchen. “Why what a fine hellish day it is!”

He hummed as he waltzed past you, you nearly choked on your food when he leaned over your shoulder, looking at your plate “Didn’t take you for the cannibalism type doe” grinning as you looked away, huffing ”its cooked” as he stole a piece of ham.

“Does typically pick up weight in the winter. They have to fill out in order to provide for fawns. They make for excellent pickings during hunting season” Alastor said as he buttered his toast, eyes on you as you squirmed slightly.

Angel and Charlie gawked “You’re gonna have a baby?!”

Your eyes widened “What!? No! Its just a deer thing. No fawns anytime soon” you blushed. Shaking your head you stood from the table, excusing yourself.

You weren’t necessarily afraid of Alastor, you had been around him long enough to get use to tolerate him, but the stag still made you uncomfortable, even after all this time around him. He reeked of dominance and power and your much softer nature did not mesh well with his intimidating one.You usually only spoke a few words to him, always excusing yourself to get away from him. 

Like now, the comment about deer season had your skittish nature taking over, not liking the idea of potentially being a target.

Alastor chuckled as you walked by him. Your cute fluffy tail twitching, begging to be tugged on Alastor blinked at the intrusive thought.

That was new. He shook it off as just a sadistic moment. 

————————————————————————————-

You curled in your pile of blankets as your heat raked through you.

Over the last few days, Charlie was so kind to leave you food and water so you didn’t have to go to the kitchen.

But you were itching for fresh air. Stretching your legs would do you some good.

Maybe you would find a partner to mate with on your outing.

You took a deep breath of fresh air as you exited the hotel, sighing happily. You bobbed around the city, nose sniffing out any potential males.

After a while your body started to heat up and you were going tired. You weren’t successful as most demon you met were either too eager to keep you tied up or not interested.

oh well.

As you approached the hotel a faint musky scent had your senses in a frenzy. You subconsciously followed the faint scent and ended up in the kitchen. No one was in there, but a tray of food was perched on the table, probably for you.

The last few weeks you were eating way more to keep up the energy that was burning through you.

You stuffed your mouth as you sniffed again, sighing deeply as the scent seemed to fog your head.

You had your fill and went to retreat to your bedroom, when you bumped into a solid chest.

Your ears perked at the sound of a faint growl and static.

”Careful doe” a deep voice purred.

Alastor.

You took a step back, ears furrowing back “Oh! I’m sorry Al”you looked up at him.

The tall red demon smiled down at you, but something seemed off.

His smile looked strained, and his ears were flickering about, eyes narrowed. He looked slightly flustered.

Your instincts had you look over him, to see if you could find the sense of his discomfort.

You hand reached out to press against his forehead, his skin was clammy.

Alastor didn’t flinch from your touch or slap your hand away, instead his head leaned into your hand, making your head tilt in question.

”Al? Do you feel alright?” Your eyes filled with worry. Alastor hummed, a sharp claw clasping your chin as he chuckled “Oh its nothing I cant handle dear.” You nodded, taking his word and made your way back to your room.

You curled in your nest as you thought about how strangely the demon was acting. But maybe it really was nothing.

————————————————————————————-

Alastor had smelled the most delicious scent waft across his nose. It smelled familiar but it was just too sweet to pinpoint who it belonged to. So he followed it.

The scent led him to the kitchen where he found you. 

The little doe was having her filling, consuming some food, stuffing her soft cheeks with whatever was on the tray.

You looked plumper. Softer. For as long as he had known you, your heats were interesting to witness.

You tended to eat more, your usual slim figure filling out to accommodate the energy you burned. You often hid away when you were in heat. Something that Alastor found interesting.

Most does sought out partners to satisfy them, but not you.

He had overheard you how most of the times you did go seeking partners but no one tickled your fancy enough.

Something about that made his chest tingle.

No one would be able to satisfy you like he could his instincts screamed.

With another deer around, your heats triggered his ruts.

He had never interacted with you while in a rut, so when you bumped into him, he wasn’t ready for the consequences.

You let out a cute little squeak when you collided with his chest, ears perked as you registered the static he let off.

He felt his cock stir in his pants as he breathed in your scent.

Your heat must have been flaring as he could taste how your cunt smelled.

His ears furrowed against his head, the only indicator that something was wrong. He kept up his composure as you nervously apologized. But as he too was in rut, he was sure he was showing some signs, as you asked if he was ok.

He tensed up as he felt your hand on his cheek, but leaned into your touch.

Your soft voice laced in concern as you looked over him, checking to make sure he wasn’t ill.

Oh what a naive doe.

It was taking every bit of control he had to not take you against the kitchen table.

how would you look as he took you? 

Would you beg him to make a mess of you?

Would you let him breed you to the point your cunt dripped with his cum?

He let out a low growl once you left the kitchen, turning his head to watch your full ass sway as your tail twitched about.

———————————————————————————

A knock at your door had you stirring awake from the comfort of your makeshift nest.

You were much too tired and had no desire to answer whoever was on the other side of the door. Your heat was at a all time high and the stickiness between your thighs, a result of your abusing your poor clit for relief.  If it was Charlie, then she would just leave food at your door. Your eyes started to drift close, the sweet call of sleep sounding so appealing. 

Your ears twitched at the knock again, a soft growl escaping your throat.

Your tired brain did not catch up with your nose as you swung open the door, tired eyes widening as you are face to chest? With Alastor.

You keened your neck to look up at him; head tilting as the red demon peered down at you with black blown out eyes.

”Al?”you asked confused, rubbing at your eyes sleepily.

”Apologies my dear, did I wake you?”  He asked, head tilted, voice feign concern, his red ears erect and honed in on your soft panting, eyes narrowing at he took in the slight coat of sweat on your skin and how disoriented you seemed.

You nodded wordlessly, now highly aware that you, a doe were in full heat, evidence of that clinging to your thighs, and a stag was at your door.

Your heart sounded in your ears as your eyes raked over Alastor, accessing him.

Taking mental notes of mating potential instinctively.

“I thought you were Charlie…she usually leaves me food”

He hummed, a clawed hand coming up to your face to grip your chin. You blinked. Body buzzing.

Alastor’s instinct were screaming to push you back into your room and claim you in your nest, and satisfy the burn in his body.

Your scent had basically coated the hotel in its sweet smell. The scent making his cock twitch and antlers itch.

And the scent of your cunt had his mouth watering.

And he will have his fill.

”Your heat must  take a lot out of you dear” his hands reached to soothe your tense shoulders, fingertips massaging the flesh. You stayed still as his hands roamed your body, softly pawing at the curves you gained from your heat. 

His lips nipped at your soft ear, purring into it “I could provide assistance if you like?”

 Your tail wagged as you gulped “A-Assistance?” You asked. 

From your time around the red demon, you have never known him to willingly help people. Alastor maintained a sense of control in every situation, twisting and bending the rules to be in his favor.

A doe in heat should be easy to manipulate.

”Yeeeessss anything you want my dear! Think of it as ‘I scratch your back so you can scratch mine’ type of deal hmmm?” He chuckled darkly, slowly backing you into your room.

————————————————————————————-

Soft moans filled the room, accompanied by the hum of static as Alastor sucked at your clit.

You were sprawled out on your back in your nest, knees on either side of Alastor’s head as he lavished your clit with his tongue.

You panted as his tongue dipped into heat, thighs shuddering as it curled and lapped at your juices.

”H-Hah!! Ah! Ah! A-Al!” You whined, toes curling when he sucked the sore bud into his mouth. You tugged at the big antlers that separated your legs.

He had already made you cum on his fingers twice; cooing into your neck as you cried, cunt clenching around the digits like a vice.

Alastor grunted lowly, nipping at your clit with sharp teeth before sucking it back into his mouth. A finger dipped to fill you as he flicked your clit. Your gummy walls squeezing him, contracting at the intrusion but welcoming him into its depths.

He cooed around into your cunt, eyes looking up at you.

Your face was flushed and slick with sweat. Hands at your breasts, pulling and massaging your perky nipples.

Pouty lips parted as your moans tore from your throat.

”oooh c’mon doll, one more. You’ve been doing so good.”

Your body felt like it was burning. Each orgasm fogging your head with pure desire to be sated properly.

Your hips followed the rhythm of his tongue, using the hold on his antlers to ride his face.

 Alastor let you be. Happily curling his finger inside you as he lapped up your essence.

Your back arched as a third orgasm ripped through you, teeth clenching as your hips twitched in overstimulation, but riding it out to make the sensation last.

You sighed as you went limp, eyes hazily looking up at the ceiling, waiting to fall back to earth.

But you didn’t have the time to tuck your legs back in and roll over to sleep, when Alastor adjusted himself onto his knees and pulled you flush to his hips. 

A surprised “Ah!” Escaped your lips as your cunt was filled to the brim. 

With cock.

Alastor growled, hissing as finally your cunt so asked around him, unsure whether to welcome him. A harsh thrust broke what little resistance your walls gave and had you mewling.

“Oh fuck!”

Large claws kneaded at your fleshy thighs, holding them to your chest as his hips crashed down into yours, cock hitting that sweet nerve over and over, making you coat his cock in creamy slick.

”Al-Alastor! Ha! Nggh ooh fuuuck me!” You cried, tears forming in your eyes as he pounded your count.

”You would think after all this time, I wouldn’t blink when you’re in heat. But oh darlin’ you always know how to catch my interest.” He goated lightly, a claw coming up to your parted lips, his thumb pressing inside as you sucked subconsciously on the digit.

His eyes narrowed at you, pulling his hips back to snap them forward as a response.

”Do you know how divine you smell? Just walking around with a dripping cunt without a care. Many demons would kill to fuck a cunt this appealing”  a dark smirk curled on his lips when your cunt made a wet sound. “And Ill kill many demons to keep it to myself” he purred setting out a rough pace, claws on your round hips to pull you into his thrusts, keeping his cock nestled within your warm cavern.

Alastor was fucking you in your nest

A place sacred for only a doe’s mate

did that mean…was he?

Your brain was reeling. It couldn’t keep up with the sensations that were raking through your body. Your hands found purchase in the surrounding blankets as you let out moans that if you were in your right mind, would have left you embarrassed.

”mmhmm hmmm nngh Ah! Hhhaaa!” Your body jolted with his thrusts, the squish squelch noise of your cunt, echoing in your ears.

”Oh what a sweet doe you are my dear. I’ve always wonder what lied under that shy demeanor. And my my I wasn’t disappointed. A whore willing to spread her legs and be mounted.” You whimpered as he manhandled you onto your belly, knees barely supporting you as he slotted himself back inside you. You felt a heavy weight on your head, tugging to force your body to bounce on his cock.

when did your horns come in? 

You hadn’t realized it, but you had transformed into your demon form. 

and fucking hell were you gorgeous Alastor thought, hands wrapped around your slender horns and using them to control your movements.

Your tongue hanged out your mouth as your ass took the brute force of his thrusts. Alastor’s cock felt amazing.

Better than you could have imagined and so much better to scratch that lusty itch.

There was a puddle forming underneath you, soaking the bed, making the skin of Alastor’s thighs stick to yours.

Finally getting a look at your backside, Alastor felt his cock twitch as his eyes roamed down to where his cock was disappearing into you. His eyes zeroed in on your tail.

His hand dragged down your back, sharp claws cutting slightly to make blood ripple done your back. He wrapped his hand around your tail, softly twindling the tuft of fur before pulling.

A high-pitch moan left your throat. Your cunt clenched around him in response.

interesting he thought smiling as he used his grip on your tail to really make you take his cock deeper.

Your cunt was a soppy mess.

”Oh you like your tail pulled on dear? What a nautghty girl” Alastor chortled as he rocked his hips into you.

You were completely dazed with lust, that tingling knot forming in your stomach.

”please” you begged, pushing your hips against him, mewling as his hit the sponge that had you feeling sparks.

Alastor leaned over to your ear, never breaking his pace.

”hmmm? What was that dear?” He taunted cruelly.

”are you begging? What do you want doll? Cause I’m not going to stop til you’re filled with my cum. Is that what you want?”

You nodded “yes! Please please please let me cum! Cum in me- i w-want your cum please! Ha! Fuuuucckk” you whined, hand reaching underneath you to play with your clit.

”A-Al…please…breed me please i want it! I want it so bad!”

That had his cock twitch and hammer into you at record speed.

”oooh don’t worry your pretty head. You’ll get your fill”

Angled thrusts had your body jolting against the bed as you cried out, moaning so loud you were sure everyone in the hotel could hear you.

Alastor thought you were beautiful. How lovely you were covered in blood and sweat as he pounded you out. Your body went rigid before he felt your cunt flutter around him, milking him dry.

Your body slumped forward as he continue to ride out your orgasm.

”what a pretty doe, that’s a good girl. Milking my cock like a wanton slut. That’s it. I’m going to fill you up so good, I’m going to carve your cunt to only take my cock. You’ll like that wont you sweetheart? F-Fuck take it baby take it!” He grunted, snapping his hips into yours before he let out a loud growl, cock twitching before spilling his cum into you, painting your gooey walls white.

You let out a low whine feeling his warm goo fill you, before he pulled out, finally letting your body go.

You convulsed on the bed, panting as you felt his sticky spunk start to leak out of you.

Alastor sighed, rubbing your thighs as you came down from your high.

He chuckled “yes I think you’ll do just fine darlin”

Maybe heat cycles weren’t so bad after all…especially when there was a Doe ready to be filled with cum.

”Lovely”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #alastor x reader #alastor the radio demon #hazbin hotel fanfiction #jyoongim #alastor x y/n #alastor smut #alastor hazbin hotel #Its mating season for deers!!!

[rafeysdoll]

ib: @princessbrunette @devinedoll & that one southpaw scene

“wanna know something?” rafe asks, slightly bruised hand caressing your soft skin. “the fight.. it uh, ended early. didn’t do as many rounds as we were supposed to,” he informs, hand trailing to your jaw. “so i still got… about two more rounds in me left.” he grins, his eyebrow slightly raised from the way he had pretended to think about it.

a small airy giggle passes your lips as you move your head slightly to capture his thumb in between your lips. “oh?” you question, pretending to be clueless at what he’s slowly getting at, now lightly sucking on the tip of his thumb — humming softly. “oh yeah pretty baby, have some pent up energy and shit.” he adds, staring down at the way your lips wrap around his finger.

“yeah? think you can go two more rounds with me mr. big guy?” you mewl, kissing the tip of thumb before taking all of it in your mouth, the familiar feeling of need sinking in. doe eyes looking at him innocently regardless of the way you could feel your underwear grow wet. “oh, you’re just playing silly now baby, should know by now that i definitely can.” he states before manhandling you to lay on the mattress underneath him.

“rafe..” you whisper, already spreading your legs instinctively after hitching up your nightgown. “look at you baby,” he continues, kneeling over you and pressing his slightly spit covered thumb over your wet panties, rubbing your nub for a few seconds before pushing your underwear down to your ankles. “such a pretty pussy, this all for me?”

you whimper, nodding eagerly. “‘ts all for you daddy.”

rafe could never say his best win is found in the ring, not when he has you spread out on his bed pumped full of his hot cum willing to be defiled in almost every single form of the word.

#boxer!rafe #rafe cameron prompt #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron smut #rafe obx #rafe x reader #rafe x you #rafe outer banks #rafe smut #rafe imagine #outerbanks rafe #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe fanfic #rafe fic #rafe cameron fic #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader #drew starkey smut #drew starkey imagine #drew starkey fanfic #drew starkey fanfiction #outerbanks smut #outerbanks imagine #outerbanks x reader #outerbanks fic #rafe cameron thoughts

[tarrynightss]

what happens when sukuna’s precious little jewel actually does get pregnant ???

I’m so glad you asked Anon hehe

Concubine!reader x Sukuna thoughts part 1 here

Tags; Pregnancy, Concubine!fem!Reader, smut below cut, breeding kink, size difference, bit of lactation kink

Sukuna is not surprised when it happens after all the hard work you both put into realizing his dream. He notices a subtle change in your smell, in the energy that pulsates around you when he caresses his hand over your body. A wide grin splits on his face as he lays his hand over your lower stomach, his chest sturdy against your back. He can’t help but nuzzle his face against the side of your head, inhaling more of your intoxicating smell. “It took.”. Those simple words have your eyes widening and your heart pounding in your chest, looking back at him to ensure you understood correctly. “You’re with child.”

He’s overjoyed with the prospect of having a baby, an heir of his own. He’s more affectionate than he ever was, taking time to settle you close against him, his fingers absentmindedly tracing the growing bump on your stomach. He even caresses your hair and kisses you in an attempt to comfort you when you feel pain, all of it shockingly gentle for Sukuna. In his mind there’s a simple explanation. You did as he wanted, and you continue to do your duty well, ensuring his child is safe and growing strong inside you even when it hurts you, so you should be rewarded for it.

Sukuna has always been wary of others, but with the pregnancy he turns outright paranoid. With the amount of enemies he has he worries that one might now lash out and target you and your baby. He focuses more on maintaining barriers around the house, has someone sample your food in front of him before it’s allowed to be served to you, and you never sleep alone anymore, him always curled protectively against your side. He also decides to dismiss a large portion of his harem, not trusting them to have your best interest in mind. He knows how jealous humans can get, had seen women scratch each others eyes out just to get ahead of the other, and so the only other concubines allowed to stay are the ones you claim are your friends. He still keeps a careful eye on them, only truly allowing it because he knows that when the time comes, you will need women to aid you through it, and he doesn’t trust random midwives more than he trusts them.

Sukuna will spoil you more than ever, making sure you are comfortable in whatever way he can offer. The pregnancy is clearly taking a toll on you, your stomach having grown large and heavy, and he almost worries the size difference between you that excited him so might become the death of you. He carries you basically everywhere the last two months, wrapping you up in his strong arms and doing anything you need of him. It’s quite ironic; you used to be the one helping him get dressed, fawning over your master, and now he does the opposite for you. Though you know it’s out of necessity, it still makes your heart flutter.

That Sukuna is stressed out when you finally give birth is putting it lightly. He waits outside as customary, trying to appear stoic but panicking on the inside at your pained screams. As soon as he hears a baby cry, he barges in, watching as another concubine places the child against your bare chest. He quickly finds himself on his knees beside you, brushing one large hand over your sweaty forehead to comfort you as the other joins you in holding your baby. It’s a daughter, but she’s healthy and strong, screaming her lungs out for a minute more before calming down. You laugh, and he breathes in deeply, knowing you both made it. Relieve makes him bend forward and press a kiss to your forehead, leaning back just in time to see the child’s eyes open. Four in total, just like her father, but with the scarlet stare replaced by the lovely color of your eyes.

It surprises everyone, including you, how much of an involved father he is, holding his baby as often as he can, a large finger prodding at her pouty lips till she smiles and coos. When you apologize to him for not giving him a son, he stares at you blankly, gesturing for you to rise from where you kneel before him, putting one hand on your cheek as two others still cradle your baby. “I don’t need your apology. The child is healthy, and you will give me a son next time.” The surprise is evident on your face as your eyes snap to his. Not only is he being benevolent, but he also just said he wants another child with you. You were afraid he would discard you like a broken toy after this, no longer interesting enough to him, but it seems you still manage to hold your position as his favorite, bringing a smile to your face.

It has to be said that Sukuna can’t take his eyes off of you from the moment that tiny bump appears on your stomach. There’s something about it, about you, that makes every fiber of his being crave touching you. Maybe it’s that famous pregnancy glow, or maybe it’s the fact that he knows he’s the one who fucked a baby into you. You’re his, more clearly now than ever, and it excites him beyond his own comprehension.

Luckily for Sukuna, the hormones coursing through your body have you seeking him out desperately throughout most of your pregnancy. The first few months he fucks you like he wants to ruin you, rutting into you like an addict, but as soon as you really start showing he becomes more gentle. He wouldn’t risk seriously hurting you or his child, often seating you in his lap as he thrusts into you, his mouth lapping at your sweet neck. You still mewl so sweetly for him, so eagerly, and he already knows he might want to do this all over again after you’ve given him his first child.

Sukuna takes such good care of his little jewel, even massaging your poor sore breasts, teasing your aching nipples with his tongue. The changes to your body have him drooling all over you, his hands constantly on your growing breasts or belly. It becomes a guilty pleasure of his to touch you there, enjoying just having you on his lap as he rolls your nipples between his fingers, loving the way you squirm against him.

You find some of the changes quite embarrassing, especially when your breasts start leaking milk as you enter your third trimester. He only grins wolfishly when he notices the wet patches on the fabric covering your breasts, tutting as he pulls you to his chambers. “You need to relieve the pressure, little one.” And of course your benevolent master knows just how to do it, massaging your breasts till more drops come out, making sure he’s right there to help you through it all. This definitely gets far worse after you’ve given birth and your milk fully comes in, aching painfully to be released, Sukuna hot on your heels after ensuring your baby is fed to ‘help’ you.

#sukuna x reader #jujutsu kaisen #tw: pregnancy #smut #jjk sukuna #sukuna ryomen #sukuna ryomen smut #sukuna #ryomen sukuna #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu sukuna #true form sukuna

[lovelyghst]

ghost has such a vast array of names he calls his sweetheart in bed, but the one that won’t leave my mind is porn star. just listen ok—

he doesn’t even mean it in a degrading way, whatsoever. teasing, maybe, but never outright cruel. he just loves admiring you and your aptitude; your willingness to break a sweat when you’re on top of him, your resilience when he asks you if you need a break and you shake your head fervidly because he hasn’t reached his peak yet.

he absolutely adores all the noises you make. the soft and dulcet hums in your throat when he’s making love to you, to the rapid huffs of air being pushed directly from your lungs when he grabs your hips and uses you like how you begged him to. god, and your expressions? your smile as you unbuckle his belt, and your giggles when he flips it around on you and sneaks a hand beneath your skirt. even when you’ve been fucked utterly dumb, you’re still the prettiest thing he’s ever laid eyes on. it’s all so erotic to him, like it belongs on film.

and so he eventually comes through to just that, taking out a camcorder that happened to be lying around; one that he definitely didn’t purchase for the exact purpose of filming a little sex-tape with you, certainly not ordering it online behind your back or anything.

you happily put on a little show for him, with the lively energy in your voice turning sensual and your exaggerated reactions that soon become all too real. the lens staring you down from above as he takes his time with you, cooing at you the tenderest of praises whilst breaking you down to a shuddering mess beneath him before he even gives you his cock. slowly massaging your aching pussy, past your hiked up dress and through your cotton panties, just to drag his hand up your body and have you suck on the very thumb that made the soaked spot on your underwear. he’s such a mean, mean tease.

he’s enamored with the way your cunt stretches to fit his cock, especially how it shows up on the small screen of the camera. each ridge dragging against your soft flesh wrapped so tightly around him, to the point where his breath is hitching in his throat and he’s failing to suppress those faint groans and swears spilling past his lips.

“makin’ all these depraved noises for me, and no shame you’re bein’ recorded? already fucked you that stupid, ‘ave i, sweet girl?”

you moan unabashedly at that, words that should be demeaning only hitting you right in the sweet spot. you can no longer keep your eyes on the lens above you, reaching out to grasp at the wrist connected to the fingers circling your raw pussy as you plead with your brows. you’re so overwhelmed, though enjoying it far too much to quit.

wrapping your legs around his back and pulling him in closer, eyes rolling back. swollen lips falling further agape and making him chuckle lowly. he goes on ramming his cock into the sticky mess of your cunt, thumbing your clit to push you over so that the last thing your fuzzy mind will hear is him calling you his favorite nickname:

“my pretty, little porn star… takin’ everything she’s given, ‘n with no complaint. just like a good actress does, right, baby?”

he spurs you on, grinning huge behind the camcorder he holds when you hum and nod along with whatever he says. you pull his free hand into your own, lacing your fingers with his; he always grounds you so well after he’s spun you higher than a ballerina. dazed and content, and simple happy to give him something to watch while he’s away. you never have to act when you’re with him, but you can’t help the butterflies swarming your tummy whenever he praises you for it.

“there’s my good fuckin’ girl… now smile for the camera, princess.”

#ugh he’s such a man #cod mw #simon riley #ghost cod #simon ghost riley #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x female reader #ghost x female reader #simon riley smut #ghost smut

[corvidcrossbow]

~•♡•~ I Like It Long

➳ Summary: While out on a run, you and Michonne start lightly teasing Daryl for having his hair grown out. But there's a hidden reason as to why he won't cut it. (Daryl x Fem!Reader)

➳ Setting: Alexandria, post Savior war

➳ Word count: 1.4k

➳ C/W: Just smut n hair pulling

➳ A/N: This spawned from me writing the context plot of another fic and I was like… wait (And thank yall for the attention on that Mother's Day post??? Yall are so sweet 😭🫶)

My hair is really similar to Daryl's when it's partially or almost dry and it's actually my favorite thing about myself like xbsosjdjdneisnsiasjebeiisjabajissn

You loudly banged your forearm against the glass door of a long abandoned drug store, not hearing any noise inside. Vines and weeds had grown through cracks in the concrete, winding up the sides of the building.

“Sounds pretty clear,” You shrugged, holstering your bow and opting for hand-held blades as Michonne pulled open the handle. You, her, and Daryl were clearing through a nearby town while out on a supply run, opting to make quick work of the task in favor of getting home.

You three entered the building, keeping your guard up in case of any straggling walkers that weren't roused by the initial attempts to lure them towards you. The interior wasn't large, so you could comfortably split off from each other and still be close.

“Seems mostly ransacked. Not much left,” Michonne commented, katana lowered but out in front of her. This had begun to grow repetitive and boring, energy matching the grayness of the lighting.

She took a pair of hair cutting shears off the shelf in front of her, holding them up to your gaze a few isles over. “Think he could use these?” She asked as a smile played the edges of her mouth, nodding back towards Daryl, looking for mischief. His hair had grown quite long over the course of the last two years, the tawny blond darkening into a rich brown, accompanied by a shaggy cut.

“Oh definitely. Jus’ gotta determine which onna us can hold him down long enough to cut it,” You replied with a chuckle, eyes following hers to where the archer stood at the endcap of another lane.

“Shuddup, will ya?” Daryl scoffed, shaking his head with grunt. His gaze didn't break from the advertisement in front of him, trying to ignore your antics. “Ts'fine.”

“Gotta make use of whatever supplies we find, no?” You continued your teasing, trying to hide the grin on your face at his reaction. “You were sweatin’ like a pig all summer, hair tangled all over yer face ‘n what not. When was the last time you cut it?”

“Don’ kno’, don’ care,” He grumbled, and you eyed Michonne again. It's definitely been since the prison, at least. He moved on from the stand. “Plus, winter up ‘ere's gon be colder. Will keep me warm.”

“Daryl, you're ‘bout the only one who didn't freshen up since we got to Alexandria. Don't you at least want a trim?” Michonne pestered, raising her eyebrows at him and shifting her weight to one leg. “You remember Rick's whole hobo-beard.”

“Ain't got no ‘hobo-beard’.”

“But you do look like the only ‘scissors’ you know is the recently searched on your go to porn site,” Michonne chaffed, barely able to contain herself.

Daryl froze for just a second, face flushing as his head whipped to stare back at her. And you two burst out laughing, to which his expression soured.

“Give it up, alrigh’?! Ain't nothin’ wrong with mah hair!” He snapped, accent thick with embarrassment, bowing his head slightly in an effort to obscure it. He readjusted his hold on his crossbow. “Gon shoot tha botha ya.”

“Ay, ay! Jus’ sayin’. Rick scrapped the beard and… maybe you'll finally get some play too,” She winked, followed by a lighthearted snicker.

Daryl groaned again and rolled his eyes, beginning to walk off, but caught your gaze for just a second.

It's not that he didn't want to cut his hair - he didn't care about it – but he wasn't really allowed to either way. There was one major, sexy, moaning reason he didn't cut his hair.

❥-》》—————➣

“Oh, god, Daryl! Fuck! Don't stop… god don't stop,” You cried out, hands clutching his shoulders as your nails began to dig into his flesh. His grip on your hips was bruising, keeping you steady as he pounded up into you at a relentless pace. That grip was the sole thing grounding you in the reality of the present moment.

“Ain't gon stop,” He affirmed, voice gravelly. You moaned wildly, head weakly falling to his chest with exacerbated breaths, his own heaving against your temple. He leaned closer when he could, harshly sucking at your clavicle and boobs, leaving behind a litter of hickeys and little bites that colored you in reds and purples.

The springs of the bed beneath you sounded like they were gonna fold in on themselves, headboard sporadically banging against the wall as Daryl shifted down a little to hit into you at an angle, your clit brushing against him with each thrust. Your back arched overtop of him, shoving his dick into your belly.

“Baby, please… fhuuuckkkk.” You couldn't even think, every thought consumed by the feeling of him. The way he just destroyed you like it's an art he'd mastered, tip brushing against every sweet and sensitive spot inside you, walls desperately trying to cling on, balls hitting up against you, clit grinding on him, slickness coating his pelvis and your inner thighs, his clutch on you just so fucking strong.

You pulled yourself together, lifting your head to see him. His long hair was dark and dampened with sweat, matting up as it stuck to his forehead, obscuring part of his vision. But he was too focused on using you to fix it, didn't dare to remove his hands unless God willed him to.

You moved up, swiping it away, and his blue eyes instantly connected with yours, pupils blown with lust. He (somehow) sped up, starting to slam your hips up and down to meet him instead of just keeping them stationary, now just beating your cunt.

“Tha's it girl. Jus’ keep takin’ me good like tha’.”

His words made you shiver, and you partially fell forward again, nestling your face beside his and snaking an arm behind his head. Your fingers weaved through his messy hair, tangling at the scalp, then tugging harshly as another wave of pleasure ripped through you.

And he whined. There it is. His breathy gasps and grunts mingled with strained whines, and whimpers, as you pulled tighter and tighter at the roots of his locks. His face contorted, eyes nearly squeezing shut, that one vein bulging from his neck, directly on the verge of so much.

“Daryl… inside.., Dar-” You panted, cut off as everything went white and you hit your peak. Your whole body felt electrified, tensing, twitching, walls spasming, toes curling and claws clinging to his frame.

Daryl tipped over the edge almost immediately after, having just been waiting for you to cum first. He desperately pumped into you a few more times, before curving up once more and simultaneously ramming you down as he came deep in you, the warmth of his release spreading through your core, and he threw his head back with ragged breaths.

You were both left a sweaty mess, gasping for oxygen, feeling full and satisfied. Your muscles couldn't keep you up, and you collapsed onto him, loosening your hold at his scalp, his hold on your hips doing the same.

He recovered a bit quicker than you, bringing a hand up and brushing your own messy hair away the second he had the energy to do so.

“Ya alrigh’, sunshine?” He asked between hitches, hoping he hadn't been too rough. He soothingly rubbed his palm over the curve of your body where bruises were sure to form.

You nodded faintly, moving your head so you could breathe better, and you could feel him relax beneath you from the reassurance. He held you tenderly for a while, giving you time to regain your composure. Your eyes were closed in bliss. Few things beat the feeling of Daryl under you, rising and falling with his torso, hearing his low humming as he steadied himself – his softening cock still buried deep inside you, cum ever so surely beginning to dribble down.

You lazily remained in his arms, not wanting to deal with getting up, or the shower you two definitely needed. You took a strand of his hair, affectionately curling it around your finger like a tendril, then letting it go and repeating.

“Ya actually want me tah cut ma hair?” He eventually asked, thinking back to your light mocking from earlier, how you'd laughed as Michonne layered it on. It didn't matter much to him, he'd do whatever pleased you.

“Fuck no. Was just messin’ with you, Dixon,” You replied, kissing the skin of his collarbone right below you, and moving up to find his lips. “You know I like it long.”

The long hair suited him, he looked good with it. You loved to wash and play with it, brush and braid it while he laid in your lap. But mainly, it was easy to grab at, pull on – and close to nothing in existence sounded better than those whines and whimpers every time you did so.

©corvidcrossbow 2024. I do not give permission for my works to be copied, modified or adapted to other platforms. My work may be translated only if asked and with proof of given consent.

#daryldixon #daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fic #twd #the walking dead #twd daryl #twd daryl dixon #normanreedus #norman reedus #daryl dixon x female reader #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon x you #daryl x reader #daryl x female reader #daryl x you #daryl dixon headcanon #daryl dixion smut #the walking dead fanfiction #daryl dixon imagine #norman reedus x reader #daryl

[zylev-blog]

Danny had been sent across the dimensions to correct the flow of time more than once. He had stopped zombie invasions, a robot named vision, saved Ancient Greece(and somehow became a minor diety in their religion), and much more. With each new mission he learned a lesson, which was what Clockwork had intended for him. He learned compassion, empathy, and kindness, but he also learned bravery, how to be cunning, and how to outsmart the enemy. Over the last few years his Fenton genes kicked in, making him a tall 6”6, and he was still growing. It had gotten harder to blend in as a human as he came into more power than he had had as a teenager, but he was managing.

Clockwork had let him have some time off to himself, so he headed to one of his favorite dimensions, a Justice League timeline. He was strolling around Central City, watching Flash zooming around taking out bad guys. He didn’t need to help; Flash had it completely under control and he would only get in the way. He could admire Flash’s resilience and bravery as he took down the big bad of the day.

It took longer than it should have, but Flash eventually noticed his presence. He stopped running, coming to a halt beside Danny, looking his ghost form up and down, as if assessing his threat level.

“What’s up?” He asked casually.

“Not much,” Flash responded with a shrug, “Just normal things.”

He nodded. “I see.”

“Do you want to get dinner after this?” Flash offered.

He blinked in surprise. Did Flash just ask him out on a date?

“Sure, I’m not busy.” He grinned.

Flash rejoined the fight with renewed energy, seeming more like he was showing off than fighting. He chuckled to himself. This should be interesting.

#dp x dc #dp x dc au #dp x dc writing prompt #dp dc crossover #dp x dc fanfic #dp x dc prompt #danny phantom #danny phantom crossover #dp x dc crossover #dp crossover #dpxdc prompts #dpxdc #dcxdp #barry allen #Danny Fenton

[5sospenguinqueen]

Team Betrayal | Red Bull! Reader x Platonic! Grid

Summary: Y/N Y/L/N races for Red Bull but when she's caught out drinking another brand, she enacts her revenge until the Grid outs her snitched.

Apologies but this is a female reader.

Warning: Bad writing. I'm not sure what this is but it was prompted between an energy drink dilemma I had the other day.

There is no timeline for this. Make it up.

Main Masterlist.

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

Swiping away the sweat that ran down the back of her neck, Y/N grinned at the camera, drinking in the euphoric energy enveloping her on all sides.

"Thank you for joining us after such a long day." The interviewer beamed, pleased to have been able to catch the Red Bull racer before debrief started. "How're you feeling? You look absolutely drenched."

"Yes. Max thought he was funny tipping the entire can of Red Bull over my head. I'll wash my hair three times and still go home smelling of the stuff." Y/N joked, dabbing the drop of sticky liquid rolling down her forehead.

Pleased that the conversation had naturally developed down that path, the interviewer smirked at the camera before turning their attention back to you. "So, you've been driving for Red Bull for 2 years now? Is it safe to say you're also a big fan of the drink?"

She laughed nervously, unsure why such an odd question was being asked after a Grand Prix. Usually the media used this opportunity to ask how she felt about losing/her teammate winning. Again. "Who isn't?" Y/N joked.

Whipping out her phone, the interviewer (dressed in traitorous McLaren orange) thrust it in front of her face. The grin from Y/N's face instantly dropped as she squinted against the blinding sun. Disbelief painted her face.

"Where did you get that? That's actually me!"

"One of your fellow racers provided it earlier." The interviewer informed, tucking away the damning photo of Y/N drinking a can of Monster Energy, dressed in her Red Bull racing suit and attempting to hide her behaviour behind a laughing Lando Norris.

"Who?!"

"I'm afraid we're not at liberty to say. We promised confidentiality in favour of the photo," teased the interviewer.

"That's my face." Y/N's eyes darkened challengingly. She leaned into the microphone, staring down the camera. "In that case, those boys won't know a moment of peace until I get my answer."

She straightened just as soon after, smile flickering back into place as she heard her name being called. "Oops, I was meant to be in debrief a minute again. Thanks for talking to me. Catch you later!"

"Thank you for your time." The interviewer called after the retreating navy figure. She turned back to the camera. "Ladies and Gentleman, I think it's safe to say that Y/N Y/L/N is as ferocious off the track as she is on it. I don't know about you but I would not want to be a member of the Grid this evening."

━━━━━━ ༻𖥸༺ ━━━━━━

The interview went viral.

YourUserName this you? (She retweeted with a pic of Lando wearing a Monster Energy hat, a can of Red Bull in hand)

→ LandoNorris no.

User 1 not Lando deliberately lying about his own face

User 2 oh, no. Lando. What have you started?

User 3 not me checking my phone every 2 seconds to see if Y/N has posted after she vowed vengence.

→ Your User Name 👀👀

User 4 don't drag poor Maxie into this. He's always seen drinking Red Bull.

User 5 she never was good enough for the team, hope they drop her after this.

User 6 may as well just go to McLaren with how much time she spends with them.

OscarPiastri just a warning. I can hear her laughing evilly next door.

YourUserName so just to clear a few things up. I have never bought a Monster Energy in my life.

YourUse Name i am always supplied with them by people who are attempting to remain innocent in this scandal.

PierreGASLY yeah, well. My shoes are cleaner than yours so...

→ LandoNorris you sure showed her.

User 7 not the Grid coming for my girl only to end up fighting for their lives.

User 8 coming for his teammate

User 9 not the whole Grid teasing her for betraying Red Bull

User 10 always knew Max didn't like them. This just confirms

YourUserName not you too. You said you had my back

→ Max33Verstappen this is why you didn't get on the podium

Max33Verstappen not my babies?!

→ YourUserName i may not have a podium but I do have your cats.

→ Charles_Leclerc you're making this worse for yourself

→ YourUserName watch out or Leo's next

→ Charles_Leclerc *horrified gasp*

User 11 alex fighting for his innocence.

User 12 the Grid are feeding us tonight.

User 13 what's the odds that they're fighting for their lives in the gc?

User 14 bet they're compiling a list of times they gave her Monster

→ User 15 trying to figure out who might be next

User we found the snitch

User 2 anyone else see Red Bull lurking in the likes?

LandoNorris @ danielricciardo this is why she didn't respond

Max33Verstappen daniel's currently crying.

redbullracing christian said you have a meeting with PR tomorrow.

→ YourUserName crap.

User 3 can we take a moment to appreciate all the Grid content we got this evening?

→ User 4 and look at how quick Y/N's responses were. Boo was ready for them.

→ User 5 what are the odds they were all sitting next to their phones, terrified every time it buzzed

→ lilymhe can confirm.

#formula 1 #f1 #formula 1 smau #f1 smau #formula 1 social media au #f1 social media au #social media au imagine #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 headcanon #formula 1 one shot #formula 1 fluff #formula 1 x reader #f1 imagine #f1 headcanon #f1 one shot #f1 fluff #f1 x reader #the grid #max verstappen #max verstappen smau #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #george russell imagine #george russell smau #george russell x reader #lando norris imagine #lando norris smau #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc smau

[pucksandpower]

Newsflash

Charles Leclerc x reporter!Reader

Summary: after two years as a paddock correspondent, you’re convinced that Charles Leclerc hates your guts for no apparent reason … but maybe everything is not what it seems

“Wake up, Y/N. It’s race day!”

Your colleague, Natalie, bursts into your hotel room without knocking, as usual. You groan and pull the covers over your head, not ready to face the chaos that is sure to ensue in the paddock.

“Come on, sleepyhead! We have to be at the track by seven this morning for pre-race meetings,” Natalie says, yanking the duvet off you.

“Alright, alright, I’m up!” You grumble, slowly swinging your legs over the side of the bed. “What time is it anyway?”

“5:30. Which reminds me, I need coffee,” Natalie says, already headed for the door. “Meet me in the lobby in 20!”

You spend the next 19 minutes hastily getting ready — putting on minimal makeup, throwing on your favorite jumpsuit, and frantically gathering up notes and gear for the day. You take one last glance in the mirror, trying to smooth down your bedhead, before resigning to just throw a cap on over the mess.

Hustling down to the lobby, there’s a rush of personnel all around — mechanics, engineers, PR reps, and media darting about with coffees and laptops and headsets already in place. You spot Natalie nursing a large black coffee and beeline over.

“Ready to do this?” She asks with a grin.

“As I’ll ever be,” you reply with a shrug. The truth is, the nerves are already bubbling up in your stomach. You love your job as an F1 reporter for Sky Sports, but the pressure and scrutiny is immense.

The two of you pile into a car with the rest of the broadcast crew and head to the track. On the ride, you glance over your meticulous notes on the teams and drivers one more time, paying special attention to Ferrari.

Ever since you started covering F1 two years ago, one driver has basically refused to give you the time of day — Charles Leclerc.

For some reason, whenever you are around, he bolts in the opposite direction. When you have attempted interviews, he literally turns and speedwalks away without a word. Other drivers will chat with you, joke around, and give thoughtful answers to questions.

But Charles? Nothing. Nada. Zilch.

You can’t figure out why he hates you so much. You’ve scoured your past comments and coverage looking for anything that could have offended him, but come up empty.

Is it something personal against you? Were you mean to him in a past life or something? It hurts, to be honest. You try to stay professional, but his obvious disdain for you still stings.

Sighing, you put your notes away as the car pulls into the paddock. It’s going to be a long day.

After hair, makeup, mic checks, and a final meeting, it’s nearly time for the broadcast to go live as cars start lining up on the grid. Nerves buzzing, you watch Charles warm up with his performance coach across the pit lane, headphones in and clearly in the zone. As always, he walks right past you without a flicker of acknowledgment.

Your heart twinges, but you swiftly push the hurt aside. It’s showtime.

The next few hours are a blur of rushed interviews, sound bites, stats flashing across screens, and organized chaos. After the race finally ends, there are more interviews, podium ceremonies, and press conferences to wade through before you can take a breath.

“Man, that was brutal!” Natalie huffs as the two of you finally plop down in chairs in the media room later that afternoon. She cracks open a Red Bull and takes a long drink. “You hanging in there?”

“Yeah, I’m alright,” you reply half-heartedly. The truth is, you’re drained — physically and mentally. And of course, the interaction with Charles, or lack thereof, is weighing heavy.

“Why do you let that pompous twerp get under your skin so much?” Natalie says with a frown, seeming to read your mind. “He’s a rude, stuck up jerk who isn’t worth the energy. Forget about him.”

You shake your head with a sigh. “You’re right, you’re right. I just … I don’t know, I never did anything to the guy, and it still stings.”

Just then, the door to the media room swings open, and Charles himself strides in. You inadvertently tense up as he approaches the couch, looking calm and confident in his usual Ferrari polo, and folds himself down between Max Verstappen and Lewis Hamilton, who rounded out the rest of the podium.

Here we go again, you think with an internal eye roll. Just gotta get this over with.

“Hello,” Charles says with an easy grin as he settles into his seat, “What have you got for us today?” Various reporters immediately start firing off questions, undoubtedly looking to get a headline from the race winner.

You gather your courage, take a breath, and call out “Charles, Y/N with Sky Sports here. Can you walk me through your thought process behind that daring pass on Lando in Turn 12?”

To your shock, the second Charles hears your voice, his whole demeanor shifts. He seems to freeze, shoulders hunching slightly, grin dropping from his face as his cheeks instantly flush deep red. He looks panicked almost, eyes darting around the room, before landing briefly on you.

“Uhh … b-bathroom. Need to go. Bye.”

And with that, he leaps up from the couch and practically sprints out of the room.

A stunned silence falls over the space as everyone stares, stunned, at the empty space he left. You feel your stomach drop through the floor, tears of embarrassment and humiliation prickling at your eyes.

What did you do wrong? Now he’s made a total spectacle, running away from you in front of your peers. Mortified, you shakily stand up, chair clanging backwards, and rush from the room as well. Needing air, you bolt outside until you find a secluded spot out back of the paddock, leaning against a wall as the tears flow freely.

“Hey, hey … what’s going on? Are you okay?”

The soft, concerned male voice startles you, and you gasp looking up. There stands Charles, looking alarmed and guilty.

“I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to freak out like that. Please don’t cry!” He moves closer, though still keeps his distance.

You blink rapidly, beyond confused. “What … what are you doing out here? I’m clearly the last person you want to be around.”

He sighs heavily, rubbing the back of his neck. “This is really hard for me to admit but … I like you. As in, I have the biggest crush on you. That’s why I get so flustered and basically black out anytime you talk to me. It’s pathetic, I know.”

Your jaw actually drops open in disbelief. “You … what? You like me? Is this a joke?”

“No! No, I swear, it’s the truth,” he says, face turning red again. “I know I come across like a total jerk, I just freeze up around you because honestly? You’re just so stunning and brilliant, and I get unbelievably shy and nervous. The words won’t come out. It’s like an out of body experience! I chicken out and run away like an idiot every time.”

You stare at him, trying to process this. All this time, all the hurt and embarrassment … it was just because he developed a crush?

“I’m so sorry for how I’ve treated you. I know it must seem like I despise you. The truth is, you make me feel like a stuttering teenager with my first crush again,” Charles continues, looking at you beseechingly. “I understand if you think I’m a total tool, and I have a lot of work to do to make this up to you. But I swear, I really do like you, Y/N.”

At this, his face splits into a sheepish grin, eyes twinkling with mirth. You feel a laugh bubble up in your chest as relief washes over you.

He doesn’t hate you. In fact, it’s quite the opposite! You appraise him, really looking at him for the first time. From his twinkling green eyes to his adorable dimples to the lock of chestnut hair falling across his forehead, he’s unbelievably charming.

You shake your head, smile growing. “So this whole time, you’ve just been acting like an awkward schoolboy instead of giving me any indication of your true feelings?”

Charles laughs self-consciously. “Embarrassing, I know. Look, I promise I’ll do better-”

“Yeah, you’ve got a lot to make up for,” you say, crossing your arms and giving Charles a playful but pointed look. “All the grief and heartache you’ve put me through the last two years? This calls for serious groveling, mister.”

Charles immediately drops to one knee dramatically. “Y/N Y/L/N, light of my life, apple of my eye. I am but a humble driver, unworthy of your affection. But if you would do me the extraordinary honor of allowing me to court you properly, I vow to spend every day showing you how enchanted I am by your wit, your beauty, and your strength.”

You can’t help but giggle at his over-the-top chivalrous display. “Oh get up, you goofball!” You grab his hand and pull him back to his feet. “I’m just teasing. Well, partially teasing. I do expect you to apologize to me properly. Take me to dinner or something.”

Charles visibly brightens. “Dinner? Really? Yes, absolutely! In fact, let me take you right now. We’ll go to that little trattoria down the road. You deserve to be wined and dined for putting up with me.”

You consider this for a moment, taking in his eager, handsome face. The truth is, despite his past behavior, you find yourself captivated by Charles now that you understand what was really going on. His confidence, talent, and intensity are wildly attractive. And the way he’s looking at you now, with softness and admiration in his eyes .... it sends tingles down your spine.

“Alright, lead the way, hot shot,” you say with a wink.

Charles’ grin stretches even wider, if possible. “After you,” he gestures forward with a flourish, then falls into step beside you as you head towards the exit.

“I really am sorry for being such an idiot around you,” Charles says quietly after a moment of walking in comfortable silence. “The way I’ve acted was totally unacceptable. You deserve so much better.”

You glance over at his earnest expression and feel a little pang in your chest. “It’s okay, really. I get it now. Just think how close we could have been this whole time though if you’d just … I don’t know, talked to me like a normal human being!”

Charles chuckles ruefully. “Oof, so true. Honestly, I’m impressed you didn’t write me off ages ago as a complete lost cause. Clearly you’re far more patient and forgiving than I deserve.”

“Yes, I really am,” you agree teasingly, giving his arm a playful shove. You both laugh as you reach the paddock exit and emerge out onto the bustling street, taking in the energy of the crowd.

You jokingly elbow Charles’ side. “Still though, as dashingly handsome as you may be, don’t think you’re completely off the hook! I expect to be wooed and romanced properly going forward. No more running off scared like you’ve seen a ghost!”

“It’s a deal,” Charles says easily, looking thrilled. “Romance and wooing, coming right up.”

Reaching the charming little restaurant, Charles opens the door for you with a sweeping bow. You grin and step inside. Somehow, you have the feeling this is going to be the start of a wonderful evening.

No more misunderstandings. Just the two of you, getting to know each other properly over a delicious meal with the slight chill of the evening settling in around you.

And you can’t wait.

***

The next few race weekends are a whirlwind as Charles seems to do a complete 180 in his behavior towards you.

Gone is the shy, nervous wreck who could barely look you in the eye. Instead, he goes full-steam in the opposite direction, seeking you out constantly and showering you with attention.

It starts the following week after Friday practice. You’re standing in the paddock scribbling notes when you sense someone approaching. Looking up, you see Charles striding over, helmet in hand, usual calm confidence exuding from him.

“Ah, Y/N, just the reporter I was looking for,” he says with a warm grin, sidling up beside you. “Walk with me?”

Flustered by his forwardness but flattered, you quickly nod. “Uh, sure!”

Charles immediately links his arm casually through yours and starts leading you away down the paddock, journalists and crew members glancing over with raised eyebrows. You catch Natalie’s eye and she mouths “WTF?” at you with a stunned look. You just give a tiny shrug, feeling your face heat up.

“So tell me, what did you think of my lap times today?” Charles asks once you’re a few paces away from the crowd.

You blink, surprised he’s looking for actual feedback. You decide to give an honest assessment. “Well, I think you were sliding the rear end quite a bit too much through Sector 2 and losing time. The car didn’t look fully settled-”

“Brilliant analysis as always, Y/N. I knew I could count on you to give it to me straight,” Charles interrupts with a respectful nod. You feel yourself preen slightly at his praise. “Some changes to differential settings should sort that out, I think.”

He then launches into a surprisingly technical explanation of his plans to adjust the setup. You find yourself nodding along, captivated, as he outlines the various weight transfer issues and how he aims to mitigate them.

He’s speaking to you like a true engineer, not just a reporter. You realize with a jolt that he’s never gone into this level of detail with you before in any interviews.

“Sorry, I’m rambling a bit here, aren’t I?” Charles says sheepishly when he pauses. “I don’t want to bore you with too much technical detail. But you just have such a good eye and ask such insightful questions, I find myself wanting to really dive into this side of racing with you.”

He gives your arm a soft squeeze. “Anyway, let me know if you have any other observations or advice. I trust your analysis completely.”

Before you can properly respond, the two of you round a corner only to nearly walk directly into Sergio Perez, who’s heading the opposite direction. He does a comical double take at seeing the two of you arm-in-arm together.

“Ah, hello Checo!” Charles says breezily, not releasing you or missing a beat. Sergio looks hilariously confused.

“Uh … hello?” is all he manages before Charles is steering you onwards.

“See you around, mate,” he tosses over his shoulder with a wink.

You glance back to see Sergio frozen in place, staring after you both looking utterly bewildered.

The weekend continues in this vein, with Charles constantly pulling you aside to chat at length about setups, strategies, even asking your opinion on development directions for next year’s car.

He treats you with the utmost seriousness and respect, like you’re one of his most trusted advisors. It’s shocking and flattering after the cold-shoulder treatment for so long.

Whenever the broadcast crew has a break, Charles inevitably finds you and whisks you off to look at telemetry data together (which sends a poor PR officer chasing after the two of you with an NDA after the first time Charles decides to pull you into the garage) or watch video, going into painstaking detail to get your thoughts.

By Sunday, it’s become a bit of a running joke among the team, with people exchanging amused glances whenever Charles appears to disappear with you once again.

“There goes Loverboy Sharl, dragging poor Y/N off yet again to pore over spreadsheets and onboard footage,” Natalie jokes with an eye roll during a break, making the crew laugh. “How does that man ever find time to, you know, actually race?”

You shoot her a heatless glare, though you have to admit — as sweet as it is having Charles’ undivided attention, as a reporter the over-accessibility is becoming a touch much.

When the race concludes later that afternoon, Charles immediately finds you amid the chaos of the media scrum.

“Y/N!” He beams down at you, still sweaty and in his racing suit with the top half unzipped. “Come take a look at the race data with me? I want to walk through my lap times and tire deg, see if we can spot any areas to improve ...”

“Actually, I’m sort of totally swamped right now,” you gesture at the sea of people around you. “But maybe later?”

His face falls slightly. “Oh. Well I suppose I did already monopolize a lot of your time this weekend. No rest for the media?”

He gives you a lopsided smile but there’s a flicker of disappointment in his eyes. You feel a little stab of guilt.

“Tell you what though,” he continues, brightening again. “Come find me later before we fly out. I’ll have a surprise waiting for you.”

“A surprise?” You ask with a raised brow. “What does that mean?”

“Ah ah ah, no hints!” Charles laughs, wagging a finger. “Just trust me. Don’t leave without seeing me first, okay?”

With that, he leans in and unexpectedly gives you a swift peck on the cheek. You freeze, eyes going wide, feeling your face flame. Pulling back, Charles winks cheekily at you before turning and sauntering off.

Dazed, you lift a hand to touch the spot he kissed, feeling the heat radiating from your cheek. Did he really just … right out in the open like that … with the cameras recording live?

Glancing around, you see Natalie and a few other crew members staring with mouths agape. Toto Wolff is even giving you an amused look as he walks past, one eyebrow arched knowingly. Utterly mortified, you duck your head down and hurry off to find a quiet corner to collect yourself.

The next race sees the flirting and PDA ramp up even higher. Charles can’t seem to resist finding any excuse to drape an arm around your waist, stroke your arm, or playfully tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. Every interaction has an undercurrent of flirtation and innuendo. And the cheek kisses become almost routine, pressed on you in front of other drivers, team bosses, cameramen, you name it.

“I can’t take you anywhere, can I?” You finally say in flustered exasperation after he ambushes you with a very public, lingering kiss on the cheek in the paddock one day. You struggle to sound annoyed, but a pleased grin tugs at the corners of your mouth as you say it.

“Sorry, ma chérie, I just can’t seem to resist around you,” Charles replies, absolutely zero shame in his voice or demeanor. “You’re lucky I have more self-control than to start making out right here in front of everyone!”

You gasp and slap his arm, scandalized, as he just throws his head back and laughs heartily.

Meanwhile, the double-takes and stunned looks from everyone around just keep coming. Even the normally straight-faced Fred Vasseur can’t seem to hold back smug grins whenever he sees the two of you getting cozy.

“Go on and get a room already, you two!” He finally chuckles one day as Charles passes by in the paddock with his usual arm draped around your waist.

“Don’t tempt me!” Charles quips back without missing a beat, giving you a roguish wink.

Soon, literally everyone in the paddock and broadcast team is aware of and commenting on the developing romance between you and Charles.

He makes no attempt to hide it whatsoever.

“Honestly, I think they’re the most nauseatingly adorable couple I’ve ever seen,” Jenson Button jokes to the rest of the broadcast team one evening as they all watch Charles throw his arm around you yet again and plant a smacking kiss on your temple.

“The honeymoon phase never ends with those two,” Natalie agrees in a wry tone, rolling her eyes. “It’s like they’re a pair of horny teenagers making out behind the bleachers.”

You just shake your head with a bashful smile and accept the good-natured ribbing. The truth is, despite Charles’ very public displays of affection causing some embarrassment and teasing from your colleagues, you find it hard to truly mind.

There’s an earnestness and joy in his demeanor whenever he’s with you that makes your heart swell. You’ve never seen him so openly happy and carefree as these past few weeks. Gone is the tightly wound, intense competitor. In his place is a warm, playful soul who can’t help but let his delight in your company shine through.

And you’d be lying if you said you didn’t find his romantic attentions flattering and thrilling. The way his gaze smolders when his eyes meet yours, the tingle of electricity you feel whenever his hand brushes yours, the butterflies that erupt in your stomach when his lips graze your cheek — it all makes you deliriously giddy, like a lovesick teenager yourself.

So you endure the good-natured eye rolls from Natalie and jokes from the broadcast crew with an easy smile. Because the truth is, you’ve realized how deeply you’ve fallen for Charles in return.

“You’ve got me utterly love drunk, you charming fool,” you murmur against his chest one evening.

The two of you are tucked away in a quiet corner, Charles’ back against the wall with his arms wrapped around you as you stand embraced, soaking in a few stolen moments of intimacy together.

“The feeling is mutual,” Charles replies easily, resting his chin on your head. “I’m not sure I’ll ever recover from this madness.” He pauses, absentmindedly stroking your back. “Honestly, I half expected you to get sick of me hanging around all the time by now.”

You pull back to meet his warm green eyes. “Are you kidding? I love having you around. I still have to pinch myself that you actually want to be with me after the way you treated me for so long!”

A flicker of regret passes across Charles’ features. “I truly am sorry for being such an ass before, Y/N. I hope with time you can forgive me.”

“Already forgiven,” you assure him softly. “We’re here now. That’s what matters.”

Relief blossoms on his face and he leans in to nuzzle his nose against yours. “Thank you, ma belle. For being the most patient and kind woman on earth.”

You grin, eyes fluttering closed as his breath tickles your skin. “Mmm, I wouldn’t go that far. But I guess I do possess some super-human tolerance for broody and aloof superstar drivers with commitment issues.”

Charles chuckles at that and you can feel the rumble of it against your body. “Lucky for me then, or I would still be utterly lost.”

His mouth finds yours then, soft and intoxicating. You melt into the kiss, savoring his warmth, his scent, the gentle stroke of his fingertips along your jaw. All semblance of poise escapes you when you’re pressed against Charles like this. He never fails to make your head spin and body thrum with want.

A polite cough from nearby causes you to break apart abruptly. You blink, dazed, to see Natalie standing with an eyebrow arched sky high.

“Hey lovebirds,” she says in a wry tone. “Sorry to disturb the sunset groping, but they’re calling for final broadcast checks in 10.”

Face flaming, you duck your head and extract yourself from Charles’ embrace. He just shoots Natalie a cheeky grin, entirely unabashed.

“Better get going then,” Charles says cheerfully, giving you a quick peck on the cheek. “Wouldn’t want you to be late because of me … again.” He winks.

Natalie rolls her eyes hard. “Oh I’m sure that would be a first. See you in 10, Y/N.”

With that, she turns on her heel and heads back towards the pits. You glance up at Charles shyly.

“I should … uh ...” You gesture vaguely.

“Yes, yes of course,” Charles says, squeezing your hands affectionately. “Work calls. Don’t worry, I’ll be waiting around the next corner to steal more kisses as soon as you’re free.”

You laugh and give him a playful shove. “Go on then, you impossible man! I’ll see you in a bit.”

Heart fluttering, you watch him saunter off before heading for the pits yourself, still feeling delightfully dazed.

This is really your life now. Surrounded by racing, the thrill of competition, the roar of engines … and consumed by budding love every time Charles Leclerc is near.

As far as dream jobs go, you think with a lovestruck smile, you’ve really hit the jackpot.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #f1 x you #charles leclerc #cl16 #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc x you #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc fanfic #charles leclerc blurb #f1 fluff #f1 blurb #f1 one shot #f1 x y/n #f1 drabble #f1 fandom #f1blr #f1 x female reader #charles leclerc x female reader #charles leclerc x y/n #scuderia ferrari #charles leclerc one shot #charles leclerc drabble

[monstersflashlight]

Marking you as mine

Werewolf x fem!reader || Watersports, exhibitionism, light humiliation || TW: piss (?)

You worked long hours at the hospital and sometimes you didn’t have enough energy to shower before going back home. Your werewolf husband was always understanding, always ready to rub your tired feet or run you a bath. He liked to get the smell of humans off your skin before going to bed, and you were okay with that.

He didn’t make a fuss as long as the smell was just human. But coming home smelling like other werewolf? Oh no, you didn’t.

First time it happened you didn’t know. You were out doing the groceries and accidentally crashed into a werewolf grabbing cereal. You were a bit clumsy and not always looking where you were going. It was totally an accident. But that didn’t stop your husband from bending you over the car and fucking you in the garage, the door still open. Luckily it was late and nobody walked by. (Nobody needed to know how hard you came knowing someone could have been watching.)

Second time it was an accident. You arrived home smelling like other werewolf because you had to treat one at the hospital. Your husband growled as soon as you crossed the threshold, his claws extended and his wolfish grin predatory. He fucked you against the front door, tearing your clothes off your body before saying “hello”. When you came, he made you kneel in front of him and finished all over your chest, spreading it around your boobs like a lotion, giving special attention to your hard nipples. You shouldn’t have found it as hot as you did. Wearing his scent made him a bit savage, but it also made your pussy tingly.

Third time was totally on purpose. You accepted a hug from a concerned werewolf dad after you treated his son. And well, if you arrived home smelling a bit too much of another man… Your husband didn't know it was on purpose. You loved when he fucked you, but when he got jealous things got a bit more intense, he fucked you more carelessly, rougher, faster, more wolf than human. He wasn’t as worried about your human fragility when he was jealous, and you wanted that. You loved when he threw you around and manhandled you as he pleased. So what if he came over you so many times you felt like a glassed donut at the end? What if he made you lay there with you smelling like him for hours after? You weren’t complaining, it wasn’t your fault that he was so easily to rile up.

Fourth time… Well, you can’t say you weren’t looking for it. You were out with your friends. The club was packed and the pack of werewolves dancing invited you to have some drinks. You just danced, they didn’t intend to turn it into anything else, they could smell him on you. But that didn’t stop them from rubbing all over you as you danced. Your husband picked you up, a bit tipsy from the couple drinks you had.

“Did you have fun?” He asked.

“Yes!” You nodded enthusiastically.

If you were in your right mind, you could have guessed he was tense, so tense his fur was spiking at the back of his neck. He was mad. He kept smelling the car and frowning, like he was smelling something foul. And because you weren’t in your right mind, you told him about your night, about the girls, about the werewolves who danced with you and were so nice. You should have noted how he ground his molars, how his claws made indents on the steering wheel as he listened to you talk.

As soon as you got home he helped you shower and lay you down to sleep. You forgot everything about what happened and fell asleep curled against his side, his fur so soft against your face. You slept like a baby that night, but you didn’t realize he didn’t. He lay awake, plotting your punishment.

You worked the next day, and the next after that one. Everything seemed normal and you didn’t think too much about what happened. You didn’t think about it at all. You had a great night with your friends and your husband picked you up. You weren’t disappointed at all about him not fucking you. Nope. Just a friendly get together. That was all. Everything was fine. Right?

That’s why you weren’t expecting it when he followed you to the shower. You smiled at him flirtatiously, but you didn’t get to say anything before he commanded: “Kneel.”

“Oh, bossy, I like that.”

“Kneel.” He repeated, pushing your shoulders softly.

Your mouth was on him as soon as your knees touched the floor. He fucked your mouth until you were gagging and tears were running down your face. He pulled out right before he came. Instinctively, you closed your eyes and smiled as he painted your face with his cum. With your eyes closed, you weren’t expecting what happened next.

He gave you no warnings before something hot hit your torso. The first hit of his urine over you felt hot, so hot. Like you were under a hot shower in a very cold day. “This way no other wolf would approach you.” He said as he kept marking you.

“Now clean me up.” In the haze of your own horniness, so turned on you couldn’t think straight you could just open your mouth as he pushed his dick inside. You cleaned every last drop of cum and pee that was left, making him grunt.

You felt like a filthy slut. He treated you like you were just that, a body for his pleasure, his possession. He had to mark you so others wouldn’t try to steal you away. And you got so turned on by all. It barely took a minute of rubbing your clit before you were coming, still on your knees, still sucking is flaccid dick inside your mouth.

Yeah, filthy slut was probably fitting.

After that, you developed some kind of a kink. Maybe not a kink per se, but a fixation. You wanted him to do it again. To mark you so thoroughly that other wolves could smell you miles away. That they could smell him on you.

You wanted him to pee on you again. To feel the spike of humiliation as he made you kneel and peed all over you. So what if you were filthy? What if that was a bit kinky? Nobody but your husband had to know about it. Well, maybe all those werewolves who smelled you the day after and made a surprised face. Maybe you got wetter every time some wolf smelled you and smirked knowingly. Maybe you wanted to be fucked roughly when you got home dripping wet after a whole day feeling the looks of every wolf who crossed your path. What about it?

Then you plotted. The fifth time was gonna be the best one, you could feel it. You could have told your husband directly, he would be glad you wanted to wear his mark, he would get so hot and bothered about it. But what was the fun in that?

So you went out again. Wearing your skimpiest skirt, the one that showed the undersides of your ass every time you moved too fast. He didn’t see what you were wearing, you ran out the door before he could, promising to call when you were done so he could pick you up. You danced, and danced, and rubbed against every single wolf you encountered. They all enjoyed it, rubbing against your barely covered ass, feeling your body a bit too much. Some of them groped your tits, your ass. You were being manhandled by two strangers, the filling in their werewolf sandwich, when your husband showed up. He growled, and the two wolves tensed. You kept dancing, still rubbing against them.

“Out.” He demanded, grabbing your wrist and pulling you along. The two wolves were chuckling behind you. You blew them a kiss as your husband kept walking. You could feel the anger pouring out of him in waves.

You thought he was going to rush you home, but he didn’t. He surprised you once again and pulled you to the alleyway next to the club. He bent you over, your hands going to the wall not to hit your head. He wasn’t thinking, your pussy was dripping, and the smell of the two wolves was so strong in your body that even your human nose could smell it. He tore down your panties, scratching your ass as he did so, mumbling an apology that made you laugh. He growled again.

“You think it’s funny? You act like a whore in heat with two other wolves and you laugh?” The spike of danger made your heart race as he pushed two fingers inside your pussy without warning. You moaned. “And you are dripping. Filthy, filthy whore.” He told you.

You head the button of his pants pop free and a heartbeat later his cock was deep inside of you. He didn’t give you a heads up, nor a warning, he fucked you against the wall of a dirty alleyway as you moaned.

“Look at that, you attracted an audience with your dirty moans.” You turned your head in time to see the two werewolves from the club a few feet away. “I think I’d let them watch. Show them who this whore belongs to.”

And he did just that. He didn’t stop. He kept fucking you, turning your body around so the two wolves could watch you as he fucked you. “Let’s make it a show.” He murmured against your ear as he pulled you up against his body, one hand collaring your neck as the other ripped open your shirt, exposing your boobs to their hungry eyes.

You couldn’t hold it any longer, the look on their eyes, the restless fucking your husband was giving you, and the humiliation of it all made you lose it. You came harder than ever, screaming out loud as your husband pinched your nipples and two strangers rubbed their cocks in front of you.

He fucked you faster, harder, pushing a scream out of you with each thrust. And then something inside your husband changed. You could feel it in the way he moved his body, the way he kept hitting your G spot and playing with your tits. He came as deep as he could, but he didn’t pull out. He stayed inside of you as he kept playing your body for the audience. The two wolves cocks were out, jerking off furiously.

“Take this. You are going to smell like me, like it or not.” Your husband said as you felt the warm heat spreading inside you. “I’m gonna mark you so everyone in a ten mile radius can smell me on you. So everybody knows who you belong to.”

“Are you-?” You tried to ask just to have your head thrown back by a filthy moan. He was peeing inside of you. He just came and was peeing inside of you.

“You didn’t have enough when I peed all over you, did you? You came here dressed like a slut and asking for it. You provoked me, you acted like a whore with strangers, now I’m gonna mark you as deep as I can.” He chanted as his urine filled you, making the filthiest sounds as it dripped around his cock, still deep inside of you.

The heat inside you felt dirty, it felt nasty. And you were loving it. You felt utterly humiliated, but you couldn’t hold back the moans as he kept going. You heard the stranger's strangled moans as they came. Your husband stopped supporting your body weight and you fell to the ground, your knees weak. The strangers didn’t say anything else, they looked at you once more as they tucked themselves and left. You still felt his cum and pee inside your thighs, making them rub uncomfortably.

The reality of what happened hit you all at once. You acted like a whore, your husband fucked you in front of strangers. You came with two unknown werewolves looking at you as your husband peed inside of you. And instead of struggling or trying cover yourself, you came stronger than ever.

“Let’s go home.” Your husband mumbled as he pulled his jacket over your almost naked body. You walked slowly, feeling his cum and pee sloshing out of your very well used pussy. Your knees were still weak, and he had to support your weight after the third time you tripped.

“Are we gonna do that again?” You asked, voice barely a whisper, already anticipating his answer.

He smirked at you. “Maybe. If you are a good little whore for me.”

Yeah, definitely doing that again.

#monster #monster fucker #monster x reader #monster boyfriend #teratophillia #werewolf #monster x human #werewolf x human #werewolf x reader #monster imagine #werewolf husband

[skzdarlings]

bets and situations ; skz ; minho x reader

original ask: requested by anonymous: minho and “is that how you usually get out of these situations? by fucking your way out of them?” please

pairing: lee minho/reader content info: rivals to lovers. street racing. stubborn!reader. placing bets, betting sex (still explicit consent), fucking vs making love. outdoor sex. sex on a car. explicit sexual content. word count: 3400 words.

masterlist. part of the valentine’s day stories series. credit to prompts. requests are closed.

enjoy! <3

-

Sure, you are a little insufferable. 

But Lee Minho is worse. 

He carries himself with an elitist pomposity, like he is above the other drivers just because he once raced professionally.  Trophies or not, he is out here with the rest of you, illegally racing cars down desert roads, placing bets in the dead of night. 

You were content until this fucker came along.  Lee Minho and the stupid pretty face that won him fan clubs and brand deals.  Ugh.  You hate him for having that life and for giving it up when it is a fantasy for you.  The world of professional racing is notoriously hostile to women.  You admit there is a tinge of bitterness on your side of every interaction, but he goads you like an asshole.    

He arrives with his usual entourage.  A couple of them are racers, though not professionals, and a couple just spectate and mind his vehicle.  He has a nice car, almost as pretty as him.

You whistle as he approaches.  He looks at you with his usual exasperation, delicate features pinched with annoyance.  His hair was a vibrant red in his racing days, quite the act of showmanship, but it’s a natural dark brown now, framing his mean, stupid, handsome face.

“Hey, pretty boy,” you say.  “Finally gonna grow a pair and race me?”

His scowl turns to a bitchy little sneer.  He laughs sarcastically. 

“Not worth the mileage,” he says.  He shoulders past you, his leather jacket against your denim.  “Winning against a little girl does nothing for my massive ego.”  He says this with a sarcastic flourish, mocking your derision of him. 

You know the comment is a deliberately cheap shot.  Unfortunately, in reality, Minho is the least chauvinist racer you have ever met, treating the women here with the same basic dignity as the men.

It’s just you he hates, because you hate him too.   It was inevitable.  You were hostile when first meeting.  You challenged him to a few too many personal races.  You were a sore loser and even worse winner.  What started as an effort to prove something spiralled into a rivalry. 

You won the last couple races.  You gloated a little too hard and now he is refusing to race you again. 

“Sure,” you say.  “Sounds to me like you’re scared to lose for the third time in a row.” 

He just keeps walking, ignoring you, which is so much more infuriating than when he snaps back. 

You decide to keep your distance tonight.  If you continue to agitate yourself, you are going to develop a stress aneurysm.   So you keep to your own group, race your own races, and collect your own winnings. 

But, ugh.

He is right there. 

Just in the corner of your eye, just skirting the periphery of your space, just breathing the same night air.  When you are looking at him, he captivates you.  When you look away, he is like an impossible itch, begging for your attention again.  You constantly catch him looking at you too, which does not help matters. 

By the end of the night, you feel like a live wire, all electricity and unbound energy.  Not a single race has satisfied you.  You won three of four, making way more money than you lost, but it is not enough.  It is never enough.  You already know how good you are.  You know you can beat most of these guys blindfolded. 

Your only perfect match is Lee Minho.  The only victory that matters is that one. 

As the crowd disperses and everyone departs, you march towards him.  He is saying goodbye to his crewmates, his back to you, but his buddy cracks a grin when he sees you coming.  He smacks Minho on the shoulder before turning away. 

Minho turns around with a befuddled look on his face.  When he sees you, it slackens to that unamused vexation.  He pockets his hands in his leather jacket and slouches against his car.  He shakes his head as you stomp up to him. 

“One race,” you say. 

“No,” he replies, without missing a beat. 

“Why not?”

“Because I said so,” is his insufferable reply.

“That’s not an answer,” you say.

“That’s too bad.”  He gives you a final shrug then turns, opening his car door, preparing to leave. 

“Wait,” you say. 

You heart is racing.  Somehow, you feel like tonight is different from every other night.  Maybe it is the perfect crispness on the breeze, the remarkably clear sky, or maybe just the way those jeans seem to hug his thighs.  Stupid hottie.  You will have him and his attention.  You will get the better of him, one way or another.  It was all leading to this. 

“One race,” you say.  “A bet worth the mileage.” 

“I don’t need your money,” he says.

“I’m not offering money,” you reply. 

Finally, he closes the car door.  He sighs, a very loud and dramatic sigh, like you are the biggest inconvenience on earth. 

“What are you offering?” he says, facing you.  The disinterest in his tone is betrayed by the curious sweep of his gaze, an up-and-down perusal like he expects to find his prize somewhere on your body. 

Oh.

You feel flushed inside, realizing that it exactly what he is thinking.  Looking at you with a hungry, lecherous gaze, anticipating you are about to offer up yourself as a potential prize. 

It makes your heart stutter and your lips do the same, your next words all tangled up on your tongue.  It did not even occur to you to offer such a thing.  You hate him, so of course you would never think about him that way.  But now that he is looking at you like that, his expression coloured with interest and suggestion, you find yourself too shocked to even parse your feelings. 

The only thing that is obvious, abundantly obvious, is the punch of heat in your gut.  No, lower.  Heat that curls up inside you and makes you second guess.  Heat that is curious about the look in his eye. 

Then you shake your head.  You resist the urge to smack him for throwing you off.  You were in control and now you are flustered. 

“Not me,” you snap. 

His eyes, which have made their way down your whole body, follow the same path up.  He meets your gaze eventually.  Then he says nothing, because he is the worst, and just lifts an eyebrow at you. 

“My car,” you say, with no-nonsense finality.  “I bet my car.” 

He blinks at you.  Long, slow blinks like a cat.   It takes him a second to find a sentence. 

“Your car,” he says.  He tilts his head and squints, looking at you with scrutiny, like he is trying to see through your ploy.  “And what do you want if you win?” 

“Admit I’m the better driver once and for all,” you say.  The words feel a little foolish leaving your mouth.  You have been chasing the high of that confession, aggravated every time he dodged it, but saying it out loud makes you feel needy.  You clear your throat and stand straight like you are unbothered.  “That’s all I want,” you say.

He rubs a hand across his jaw, laughs incredulously, then swings his arms out at his sides. 

“Fine,” he says.

By now, everyone else has gone.  It is just you and him under the streetlights, the long empty road stretched across the dunes ahead.   You stare at one another, like there is no road and no sky, no world at all outside each other.  It is intense and all-consuming.   

You hold out a hand.  He takes it and yanks you closer to him.

“I would have told you that for free,” he says.  “Since it’s the truth.  You just had to ask.”

Now it is your turn to blink, looking at him with shock.  You would have been less stupefied if he called you a tirade of rude names, or tried to weave doubts in your mind.  Instead, he smiles at you, and it is not half as smarmy as usual.  He drops your hand and turns away, leaving you gawking at the air as he ducks into his car. 

He honks the horn, snapping you to attention. 

The heat rushes back in a hurry.  You swallow, then walk to your car on suddenly shaky legs. 

-

He wins.

Of course he wins.

You were distracted by his parting words.  You and him are so closely matched in skill that a fleeting weakness is all it takes for one to overtake the other.  You were faring well at the start, but his engine revved and your attention strayed.  Your prize was somewhat nullified by his confession, your behaviour embarrassing in hindsight.  You bet your car.  What were you thinking?

You weren’t.  And it was all his fault.   

Your car skids to a screaming halt just seconds after him.  You smack the steering wheel with frustration. 

Maybe I should have just bet my body, you think to yourself, a thought that has you shivering from something other than adrenaline.  Thoughts like that are not like you.  And Lee Minho is the last man on earth you could ever want.  Even though he is simultaneously the only man you want, or at least the only one with an opinion that matters, the only man whose attention you ever want.  He is always the highlight of your night. 

Oh god, you think with a nervous twist in your gut, I like that arrogant loser. 

Facing him is hard and it has nothing to do with losing your car. 

He is not gloating because he is not the type.  He is just leaning against his vehicle with his arms crossed, watching your nerves and passion get the better of you.  He does not flinch when you get right in his face, huffing from exertion.

“Do-over,” you say.

“Absolutely not,” he replies. 

“You got in my head on purpose.” 

“I can only do that if you let me in,” he says, looking smug.

“One more race,” you insist. 

“You have nothing left to bet.”

“Me,” you blurt.  “I bet myself.” 

You feel some satisfaction at the flicker of surprise that creases his brow, but then he is just staring and blinking again.  Your heart still thinks it is in a race, stampeding so far ahead that your whole body is awash with heat. 

“You,” he finally says.  His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, then he tilts his head in that studious way. “What does that mean?” 

You feel so hot it is making you a little woozy.  It’s just aftershocks from the race, you tell yourself, even though that heat comes from somewhere much more intimate. 

You cross your arms stubbornly.  You look away.  You even stomp your foot. 

“You know what I fucking mean,” you snap. 

“Is that how you usually get out of these situations?” he asks in a teasing tone.  “By fucking your way out of them?”

You refuse to answer.  You arms are still crossed, your face still turned.   

He touches your chin, a painfully delicate touch.  Whenever you do fuck someone, it is hard and fast, like everything else you enjoy.  Your greatest rival should be touching you with the roughest touch of all, but it is the very opposite.   It is a suggestion of a touch, little more than a caress as he turns your face to his.  You swallow until the intense focus of his sharp eyes. 

“I don’t fuck like that,” he says.  He bats his pretty eyelashes while smirking like a devil.  “I don’t have to make bets.  I make love to people because they want it.  Sorry.”  He rolls his eyes and turns away, wiggling his fingers in a sarcastic good-bye wave as he slides into his driver seat.  “You can keep your car.  I don’t want or need it.  Good night.” 

You put yourself between the door and car, stopping him from closing it.  He looks at you, eyes narrowed more intensely. 

“Now, now,” he says. 

“I’m a big girl,” you snap.  “I don’t need you protecting my honour.  I wouldn’t offer to let you fuck me if I didn’t mean it.” 

He stares at you, contemplative behind those dark eyes.  He has just returned your vehicle so you have no reason to make another bet, other than to prove the veracity of your previous offer: that you do want to fuck him, even if you don’t want to admit it.

“I told you that you can keep your car,” he says. 

You are amazed smoke is not blowing out of your ears, considering how hot your face feels. 

“I heard you,” you say. 

He gets out of the car slowly, holding your gaze the entire time.  You take a step back. 

Then he walks at you, which forces you to take another backwards step.  Step by step across the tarmac.  The breeze tousles a bit of his hair, but nothing stops his stride and his eyes never leave yours. 

You find it difficult to catch your breath.  Garnering this man’s undivided attention has been your only goal for months, and the reality of it is heady.  He is intoxicating. 

It seems the feeling is reciprocated, given how he looks at you, which just makes you stumble in your backwards trek.  He catches your wrist, tugging you upright, yanking you closer.  You collide with his chest, disoriented from so little. 

“So,” he says.  “If you win, we fuck.  And if I win, we make love.  Is that correct?” 

“Whatever, there’s no difference,” you say.  You are instinctively combative when flustered, redirecting the source of your embarrassment to confrontation. 

It seemingly works.  His attention diverts and he says, “Yes, there is.”

“No, there isn’t.” 

“Yes, there—”  He stops himself from retaliating with the same childish rejoinder.  He props his hands on his hips, shaking his head at himself as he stares up at the stars.   

Eventually he huffs, rakes his teeth over his bottom lip, then looks at you. 

“Fine,” he says.  “We’ll race.” 

Your heart is already revving like an engine.  You take another couple steps back to smirk at him triumphantly.  You walk right into your car, that smug face dropping in surprise.  It gives him the opportunity to crowd you against it, planting his hands on either side of your head.  You hold your breath. 

“You have to pass my test first,” he says. 

“Excuse me!”  Your own incredulity resounds.  You smack his chest but he does not move. 

“It’s just two questions,” he says.  “You’re a smart girl.  You’ll figure it out.” 

He is tormenting you.  You hate him.  You hope he never stops. 

“Fine,” you snap.  His smirk makes your whole belly swoop with anticipation. 

“Good,” he says, then stands back. 

You hold his stare, refusing to show any weakness.  At least you can catch your breath in the space between you. 

Then he says, “Get on your knees.” 

Your legs are already shaky – from nerves, from the dwindling adrenaline of your race.  There are a lot of reasons your knees buckle.  Plenty of explanations for why you do not hesitate, sinking to your knees right there on the road. 

Your gaze drops, flustered by his demand and your response.  You look at his shoes, all black, well-worn, scuffing the tarmac as he steps towards you. 

“Now tell me,” he says, then gathers a fistful of your hair and yanks your head back.  He meets your gaze as he says, “Is this fucking or making love?”

Then his fingers are in your mouth.  You let him in without any hesitation, like your whole body is instinctively attuned to his.  His grip is firm, his fingers relentless, undoubtedly fucking your mouth with the sloppy, mean thrust you would expect from an enemy.  Still, it feels good, unbelievably so, your mouth wet and hot and his fingers sliding over your tongue, the soft suction of your lips making his eyes blaze and his throat bob as he swallows. 

When he slides out, a trail of spit connects his fingers to your lips.  Your lips quiver with a shuddering breath. 

“Well?” he says. 

You swallow, but eventually manage a weak, “Fucking.” 

“Good,” he says, grinning that wicked grin.  “That’s one out of two.  How about this one?” 

He drops to his knees.  You are face-to-face now, kneeling on the road in the dead of night.  There are no witnesses to this scene except maybe the stars, the clear night revealing all your secrets. 

His face is as open, his expression suddenly so devastatingly soft and vulnerable.   Your breath stutters before he even moves.  He cups your cheeks with both hands and draws you to him.

Your eyes close when your lips touch.  He strokes his thumbs across your cheeks and licks into your mouth with decadent slowness, like he wants to savour every second of your taste.  Your mouths move together like they were made for each other, never racing too far ahead. A perfect give-and-take. 

When he stops, you feel dizzy and bereft, but only for a second.   He cups your jaw and tilts your face just so, then his fingers are parting your tender lips and the taste of him is on your tongue once more.  Your eyes close and you moan thoughtlessly, bobbing your head to the gentle rhythm he sets. 

“This,” he says in a feathery-light voice.

You shiver as he slowly withdraws his fingers.  He wipes his thumb across your lips to clean you.  You let him cup your chin and tilt your face, this time so he can look you in the eye. 

“Tell me what we’re doing,” he says.   

The suggestion makes you throb.  You are hot and aching when you admit, “Making love.”

“Good,” he says, then pecks your lips before rolling onto the balls of his feet and shooting upright.  “Now we can race.” 

-

It is a perfect draw. 

You are both distracted.  When you slam on the brakes in the same place at the same moment, it is with a singular purpose in mind. 

Doors slam.  You meet in the space between your vehicles. 

“I won,” you say, just to be argumentative. 

He is shrugging out of his jacket.  It his the ground.  He does not break his stride, already going for his belt.  Your knees nearly buckle again. 

“Fine,” he replies.  “Then get over here.  I’m fucking you on the hood of my car.” 

Fucking you is exactly what he does.  It is not making love.  He strips you methodically, your jacket and shirt and bra.  Your jeans get shoved down past your knees and he bends you over the hood, still warm from the purring engine.  You are hot and frantic, cheek pressed to the hood of your rival’s car while he works you open and shoves himself inside you. 

You make a sharp sound then a low moan, hands plastered to the hot hood.  He fucks you like he races you, without holding anything back because he knows you can take him. 

It feels as primal as a race, the animal instinct that conquers you in a rush of adrenaline.  It is your singular focus, the steady thud of him inside you.  You do not care about appearances, about seeming ridiculous, meeting every thrust and moan with your own.  He sounds good and feels better, your bodies in harmony, chasing each other to the finish line. 

He yanks you up, your back arching as he turns your head for a kiss.  It puts you over, clenching hard around him, setting him off.  He makes a soft sound then groans with pleasure.  He stays there for a minute, both of you breathing hard.

“I want you to keep your car,” he finally speaks, “because I need you to come back tomorrow and race me again.” 

You gasp when his hand moves between your legs, working you up again, slowly but surely.   

“Because next time I’ll win,” he says.  “You sounded so good getting fucked.  I want to see your face when you come on my cock again and again from making love.”

“Won’t happen,” you say, even while your on the cusp of doing just that. 

“Mm,” he says, then laughs that light, evil laugh as you come all over his hand.  He kisses the side of your head and says, “Wanna bet?” 

#lee know x reader #lee know smut #lee minho x reader #lee minho smut #skz x reader #skz smut #stray kids x reader #skz x you #lee know x you #lee minho x you #valentinesdaystories

[stsgluver]

synopsis. your husband still ignores the side effects of his cursed technique just so he can get a glimpse of you.

wc. 1.2k

gojo satoru was born with six eyes — a special cursed technique that allowed for an extremely precise manipulation of cursed energy, down to an atomic level. it also blessed him with a beautiful pair of ocean blue eyes that were practically glowing. you’d never seen eyes so pretty.

the drawback to this gift? the skull-splitting migraines that came with the excessive information constantly being processed by his darting eyes.

as a child, the pain was manageable. gojo didn’t have much of a hold on the technique so his weaker state meant that the migraines were subdued as less information was being absorbed. however, as he grew older and more powerful, he would find himself bed ridden for at least twenty four hours if he did not take some sort of measure to protect his eyes.

his go to method was the sunglasses, almost 100% tinted — no other person would be able to clearly see out of them, if they could see anything at all. his sight, on the other hand, so impressive that he could distinguish people and the objects around them through the levels of cursed energy radiated.

still, accidents happened. whether it be him breaking his glasses, or forgetting them as young children do, he quickly learned the drawbacks to his technique. no normal medicine could relieve the pain and no sorcerer was strong enough to either.

gojo satoru met you at fifteen years old on his first day at tokyo jujutsu high. you wore a uniform similar to shoko's but your skirt was closer to the floor than it was to your thigh. your hair was longer than most female sorcerers and tied into a plait that hung against your back. in all honesty, you appeared quite plain to him. nothing particularly stood out. not even your cursed energy was particularly strong.

but you were gorgeous. completely and utterly gorgeous. his glasses slipped slightly down his nose as he analysed you from afar and it wasn't till a slap on the shoulder from geto that he snapped out of it.

within six months of knowing one another, the two of you were dating. you picked up on his habit to forgo his glasses around you pretty quickly and you definitely didn't miss the increasing amount of discomfort that would cause him.

"why do you do that?" you asked him one time.

the two of you were on a date in the park. a picnic blanket had been laid out and satoru had bought basically every single pastry and sweet at the bakery next to the park. you'd barely managed to make it through half till the both of you had given up and opted for cloud watching, giggling as he joked that one cloud in particularly looked very similar to nanami's 'emo' haircut.

satoru turned to his side to look at you questioningly, his head resting on his hand, "do what?"

"take off your glasses," you gestured to the folded pair of black glasses by his head. "i don't have to be a doctor to realise that you're in a lot of pain right now." the longer you lay there, the less satoru was actually looking up at the sky, instead just listening to you as you pointed out shapes and animals.

you knew the toll six eyes could take on his body.

he kept his eyes screwed shut when he wasn't looking at you to ease the the pain from the intense light that was too overpowering for his splitting headache. he winced when a kid screamed too loudly or ran too close and his fingers would push against the sides of his head frustratedly. as if he thought hard enough, the pain would just go away.

his lips tilted up into a lopsided grin, "but i see you."

you twisted so that your body was parallel to his. there was a faint blush on your cheeks now but you didn't look away from his eyes. how could you? "you always see me."

"not with those stupid glasses," satoru frowned, and you think it was the most serious you had seen him since you met. "seeing you and seeing your energy are two very different things."

"you're hurting yourself," you pointed out, placing one of your hands onto his cheek to gently stroke your thumb against his skin. his shoulders relaxed slightly and he leant into your touch like it was magic. like you were some drug that numbed the pain, replacing it with a special serotonin only you could give him.

"worth it." satoru kissed your palm.

that was his only response. worth it. and he stuck to it even a decade later.

"old habits die hard, i guess," satoru tried to laugh at his poorly made joke, but only a few shakey breaths came out. you'd been home thirty minutes and he'd already been sick twice. he'd curled himself up in your shared bed not long after the second time and that was where he was when you began scolding him for his carelessness.

"you are twenty eight," you rant exasperatedly, juxtaposing your voice that is no louder than a gentle whisper, "you have three first years to be looking after right now, but no, someone wanted to go out for dinner and someone didn't want to wear their glasses, and someone-"

satoru's much larger hand squeezed yours, "don't be cruel. i do this for you, my love." his blindfold was now on (you had made him put it on as soon as you had gotten home) but you know him well enough to know he was staring up at you with those lovesick eyes that made you weak at the knees.

"i just worry," your tone eased. you had no issue looking after your husband, you never had. it wasn't his fault that he got the migraines per se. yes, he could definitely be doing more to mitigate the severity, but he was stubborn. that had never changed. "i've seen you fight special grades. i hate seeing a stupid headache hurt you so much."

"lay with me."

"you're sweaty and sick." you scrunched up your nose, eyes flicking to the en suite you'd just cleaned and back to the cold flannel on his forehead as his body temperature fluctuated.

he shook his head, placing his index finger over his lips. "shhh, i'm passed that stage. pretty please? i need you."

gojo satoru was irresponsible at the best of times. he'd been raised to believe he was invincible and had been spoiled to always get what he had wanted. there was no telling him what to do when he'd already decided an hour ago exactly what he wanted to do.

but there was something about being needed by gojo satoru. you could never say no to him. so whether it be due to his own decision to stare into the eyes of his wife during a romantic night out, or an extensive fight against a cursed spirit, you would always be there to clean up and make sure he was wrapped up in bed all cosy.

and you would always lift up the covers and climb in once there was no more that you could do but simply act as a pillow for your husband as he tried to sleep off the throbbing pain.

a/n. um so my previous post on this topic blew up and i’m so so grateful so i thought i’d expand a little on this hc for anyone that was interested. rambled a bit towards the end but i hope you still like it!! love you lots xxx

#— toru!! #gojo drabbles #satoru #gojou satoru #gojou satoru x you #gojo headcannons #gojo fluff #gojou satoru x reader #satoru gojo #gojo jjk #gojo x reader #satoru x reader #satoru drabbles