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cheriladycl01 · 5 months

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No because that hurt me! Lando Norris x Girlfriend! Reader Part 1

Plot: Lando goes one step too far ...

Warnings: Mentions of Assault (From a random on the street)

Credit to purplephantomwolf for the GIF

"Hey baby!" you grin pulling your boyfriend of three years into a hug.

You'd met Lando randomly, you weren't a model and you didn't have a rich dad. You weren't at all famous, you had a private Instagram account that only really had some of the drivers that Lando introduced you to like Oscar and Logan, and then Max, Charles, Carlos and Daniel.

You actually house-flipped, and properly house-flipped. Not one of those super rich people who come buy a decent plot of land with a small little shack on it and turn it into their dream manor. You however have built you way up, you and the team you work with. You were a graphic designer/ architect so you would design the houses and draw a floor plan, helping the carpenters when showing them your vision.

It was a great job, that was incredibly flexible when it came to travelling with Lando. At first it was stressful, being his WAG and everything. People didn't think you spent enough time at the track and weren't good enough for Lando, but you did try to constantly attend every race you possibly could, which made Lando more than happy.

He honestly liked, kind of keeping you bubble wrapped in a way. His other relationships had ended because of the harsh media and the fans and he didn't want that to happen with you. But this sometimes would get suffocating.

"Hey" he grins at you, he roughly pulls you into a hug that you return with a laugh into his shoulder.

"I'm so so proud of you, for your first Formula 1 win!" you exclaim, kissing his cheek and he kisses your head. Reporters flood around you as well as the mechanics and you start to feel a little crushed. You see Oscar and Lily to one side and Lily nudges Oscar seeing the look on your face and that you're looking a little flushed and panicked.

Oscar manages to pull you out and you thank him, laughing along with Lily as you regain your composure.

"Are you okay?" Oscar asks.

"Yeah, I'm going to go wait for Lando on his driver room. He'll want to celebrate tonight I'm sure of it" you smile. You walk off, waving to people through the paddock before entering the Mclaren motorhome.

You sit patiently waiting for him to come and meet you in the driver's room, just scrolling threw TikTok and Instagram making a post about your boyfriends win. You were so happy for him that you felt like you needed to share that with your few followers on your main account. You also had an account for your house flipping, that was public and fans followed you on there instead, so you made a story to congratulate him on there as well.

You waited and waited for what felt like hours, until you stepped out of his drivers room not hearing many people around anymore.

"Hello?" you called out.

You walked out through to find only a few mechanics left still packing away.

"Hey guys, where's everybody gone?" you ask starting to help feeling bad that there was only a few workers left on site. You look around seeing some light coming from the other motorhomes but it was similar to here at Mclaren.

"Thanks for the help Y/N but you don't have too, everyone's left for the night!" he smiles at you and you stop confused.

"Everyone? Even Lando?" you ask confused as to why he hadn't come and seen you yet.

"Oh yeah Lando, left about an hour ago? Went back to the hotel with Max and Daniel i think" he admits as he walks with you.

"He didn't come looking for me?" you ask and the guy has a thoughtful look before shaking his head at you.

"Oh, erm okay. Well, I'm sort of stuck here, can i help you guys at all with packing up?" you ask, hoping that one of the mechanics would be nice enough to give you a lift.

"Sure, come on!" he advises before showing you he little pieces that you could help them pack away. You stayed until Mclaren were pretty much done, but seeing your phone blow up with millions of notifications you decided to check.

Message from Oscah - Where are you? Thought Lando said you were meeting us here?

Message from Lils Z - Girl, where you at. I need you here at the after party :(

Message from Maxie Fewtie - Lando's being weird, where the hell are you?!

Message from P - Y/N, i thought you were coming with me and Max to the club? Aren't you coming?

You then move onto Instagram checking all the stories from you friends. You could see Lando was already at the club, up at the DJ booth Max feeling with Daniel dancing behind him. In Daniel's story you see Lando lean into a girl at the club as she talks to him, nodding at whatever she said. It made you frown at first but he was DJing so it was probably a request. But still why had he left without you and not bothered to text you.

"I'm really sorry, I'm going to have to go guys!" you exclaim, seeing all the notifs.

"Are you going to be okay, how will you get back?" the mechanic asks worry etching on his face.

"I can walk, it'll be fine and good for me to get fresh air. I thought maybe someone would have realized I'm missing by now and come and got me. I'll be okay!" you smile before pulling the hood of Lando's hoodie up over you head.

You make the cold walk and halfway through when you start to feel uncomfortable with how quiet the road is you try to call Lando, he didn't answer making you sigh and tears brim your eyes.

"You alright pretty!" A man exclaims coming up to you making you freeze in shock. He grabs your arm, making you gasp loudly looking round trying to catch someone's eyes for help.

"You seem lost, let me help" he grins, gripping onto your waist, a weak whimper coming our your mouth as you attempt to push his hands away. His breath smells horrid and his hands are cold on your exposed wrist.

"Y/N!" A voice shouts and you turn round seeing the mechanic from earlier and two other guys in the car all glaring at the man.

"These your friends darling, or are you a little slut with three men at your feet. You come with me, I'd give you a better time than these little boys" he scoffs looking at them.

"Y/N, come join us in the car" the one driving directs, you immediately go sitting in the back next to the mechanic who was in the back. Tears were streaming down your face at this point and you just wanted to go home.

"Y/N, hey hey its okay. He's gone now your safe!" the one next to you exclaims, pulling you in for a hug.

"Please, please can you just take me to the club Lando is at" you admit looking at Dan who was the mechanic driving.

"Yeah, sure"

In no time he pulls up in the center of the city in the club you'd all discussed going too.

"Thank you, I owe you lunch or dinner or something for this" you say tears still running down your face.

"Y/N are you sure your okay?" he asks, and you simply nod before hopping out the car. You run over to the VIP entrance and hold up your ID to the man, he checks the list nodding and letting the rope down so you could go through. Your walk round the club, the loud music pounding in your ears as you look for your boyfriend.

You lock eyes with Lily and Oscar first and they rush over to you, asking where you've been.

"Where's Lando, I just want to speak with him" you sob, leaning into Lily's comforting hug, sniveling and wiping it with the hoodie cuff. Oscar guides you round to a booth that currently occupied, Max, Kelly, Other Max, Pietra, Daniel, Heidi, Lando and a few others. As you round the corner everyone notices Oscar's sudden appearance and then yours behind him.

"Lando, mate look who i found!" Oscar tries grabbing his attention but he's one of the only people at the table right now that hasn't got your attention.

"Oh... yeah cool, ill be there in a min" he says noticing it you but not taking anything in, you look over at Oscar tears welling in your eyes just wanting a reassuring hug from your boyfriend and for him to either help you calm down, or take you back to the hotel.

"L-lando?" you stutter, and everyone is looking at you in confusion having no clue what had happened.

"What Y/N, I'm trying to celebrate with my friends that actually bother to turn up..." he huffs, everyone had noticed that he had a semi sour mood tonight, and now they had started to understand why.

"Mate, look lets take this to the balcony!" Max says, taking Pietra's hand trying to get her to stand up so he can let the girl whose sat next to Lando and the boy himself out. He noticed the tear stains down your face even in the dim-lighting of the club the minute you came over, him and Pietra having shared a look.

"Nope, if she's got something to say, she can say it here..." he grins, even though he doesn't normally drink, he'd had to many drinks tonight and it was effecting him.

"Lando, you don't want to do this" Oscar, tries stepping next to you, making Lando scoff.

"Oscar's right mate. Not tonight" Max agree's.

"She's a big girl, come on Y/N tell me why you cant even be bothered to fucking celebrate with me? Huh? You know what your so fucking useless and I shouldn't have thought you'd care for something as big as this for me... your jealous...." he slurs his words.

"Fuck you Lando. Just... I hate you" you cry, everyone at the table stiffens as your mouth opens like a fish, as if you want to say something more.

"I'm done, We're done, I'm not coming home to Monaco, I'm going back to London" you add, before turning round and storming out the club. Out the front you found a sober, Alex getting George and Pierre into Charles car, while he got Lily in his own.

"Alex!" you exclaim running over to him, he see's you and waves before pulling you into a hug.

"Can you drop me to the hotel please?" you ask and he nods.

The minute you got back to the hotel, you locked the main door before entering the bathroom and scrubbing your body raw. You looked at your sleepwear options, you normally just slept in Lando's older tops... but of course you didn't want the thought, sight or smell of him anywhere near you right now.

You fell asleep pretty quickly considering what happened. Lando didn't disturb you, you assumed he went back with one of his friends and slept on their floor or sofa.

You got up early, wanting to get the earliest flight back to London that you could. You were packing up when a knock came from the door, and then the sound of a key card swiping before the door opened.

"Morning baby, how are you?" a voice asks that you didn't want to hear. You keep going on about your packing, leaving Lando's stuff alone.

"Getting an early start to head back home huh?" he tries again, Lando looked at you, with concern on his face. He hadn't spoken to Carlos before he left wanting to come straight to his girlfriend who he was confused as to why he didnt wake up in their room with her.

"Ah your a grouchy morning person, why don't we go back to bed for a little" he laughs, about to touch your shoulder to pull you up before you shrug him off.

"Don't touch me" you whisper, zipping your suitcase up.

"What's going on with you baby!" he asks, pulling your chin up so your eyes met his and he almost gasped in shock when he saw the tears streaming down her face.

"I'm guessing you don't remember much of last night?" you say trying not to sound angry.

"No, I think Charles and Pierre had me do shots straight away" he laughs a little before turning back seriously.

"Why?" he asks.

"Well considering I broke up with you last night ..." you glare looking at him before he stumbles back a little from the pure shock of the statement. He was about to ask if you were joking, nut seeing your face there was no joke there.

"What? Baby... no what happened?" he asks looking at you. You snivel and lean for a tissue to wipe your nose.

"Figure it out, because i need some space right now... you hurt me Lando... and I need time. This isn't the end I just need to think" you say, pulling your suitcase up before walking to the door.

"Please baby, lets just talk about this. I don't even know what i did..." he argues throwing his hands out.

"No... because you hurt me! And you need to apologize for everything said!" you say tears in your eyes.

"Maybe talk to Oscar, Max and those Mclaren Mechanics that stay late" you sigh walking out the door leaving a shell shocked Lando behind.

A/N: I'm so so so sorry, i need to write more fluff instead of all these angst pieces... and some smut i gotta delve into smut coz I'm a pretty decent spicy writer... so look out for that too.

Taglist:

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#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 x you #formula 1 #formula one #formula one fanfiction #lando norris #lando x reader #lando norris fanfic #lando norris angst #lando norris x reader #lando norris imagine #lando imagine #lando fluff

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luveline · 21 days

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Hey Jade!

I can’t remember if you’ve already written this or not but if not, could you please write bombshell!reader finally joining the BAU? I wanna know how Spencer and everyone else reacted to her finally joining

Thanks lovely :) hope you’re doing well

ty for requesting 💌 fem, 1.3k

The trek from the SCU to the BAU is familiar. If you aren’t being asked to consult, or occasionally brought along on sex crime specific cases, you’ll make any excuse to get there. A broken laptop, an updated reading list, a good cup of coffee. Spencer Reid always provides.

He just doesn’t get it. You think about it every time you see him, but he can’t understand how nice, kind, and pretty he really is, or he wouldn’t be so shy, and he wouldn’t act surprised to have you seeking him out.

He’s sitting now behind his desk with a hand over his mouth. You can tell he’s smiling despite it, a warm light to his brown eyes as you approach.

“Hello,” you say.

“Hi.” He sniffs, curling his hand into a fist under his nose. His smile is a thousand times more obvious as he tries to hide. “You okay?”

“Hotch asked me to come. You don’t know what it’s for?”

His smile finally softens before fading to a more neutral expression. “I have no idea.”

You wipe your hands down over your hips. “Well, I’m sure it’ll be fine, and not at all like last time.” Hotch has never been angry with you before. It was strange. “I hope he still likes me.”

“What are you talking about? Of course he does.”

“What am I talking about?” You agree. “Kiss for luck?”

“Pucker up,” Morgan says, a coffee cup in hand. Without coffee you’re sure this office would cease to function.

You shoot him a smile, Spencer a promising look to return, and start up the stairs to the office. You watch your shoes on each step, their shiny black, and you try not to be nervous, but Spencer was acting strange and Hotch has enough reason to revisit his anger.

Your best defence is a smile, you decide. If you act like nothing happened, you won’t get another rehashing of your mistakes.

You knock his door. “Hotch? It’s me.”

“Come in, please.”

You turn the handle and feel the weight of the door against your elbow as you enter. Hotch sits behind his desk, as usual, but when you’re a few paces from the desk he stand up, which is unusual.

“How are you?” he asks.

Your eyes widen against your will. “I’m fine. How are you, Hotch? How’s your sweet boy? Did he have fun at little league?”

“Jack’s perfect. I’m good, I need to talk to you about something.”

“I assumed.” You wait. Then, neck growing warm, “If it’s about last time, I'm still so sorry.”

“I’m not going to get angry at you twice for a mistake. But no, that’s not what you’re here for.”

He’s making you nervous. Is this a guessing game? You lean into your nerves and put your arms behind your back, grasping your wrist as you tilt your head ever so slightly to the side. “It’s not about Spencer, is it? I told you, he’s just a friend. A good friend. But I wouldn’t do anything to jeopardise my chances.”

“It’s about that.”

You stand straighter. “I do like him,” you confess, which Hotch already knows. Everybody seems to know except for Spencer. It’s not like you’re in love with him, just you could be, maybe. “But I’m really not– I would never do anything–” You start again. “I want this job more than anything. I know I flirt and I make more jokes than I should, but I take the work seriously, I promise. You guys are the most impressive people I know and I might feel like you’re a friend to me, Hotch, but you have to know how much I admire you. I admire Spencer, and I’d never let my feelings impede my professional ability.”

“Y/N, I’m not reprimanding you for anything.”

You swallow awkwardly. “You’re not?”

He raises his eyebrows and turns to his desk. There’s a packet waiting across his outgoings, which he picks up and gives to you. “I need you to fill these in, first and foremost.”

He’s smiling. Why is he smiling?

You peer inside cautiously. Chest suddenly aching, thinking, It isn’t what you want, don’t break your own heart, you pull out the very top sheet from inside. FBI letterhead greets you.

Facilitation of department transfer for Y/N L/N from the Sexual Crimes Unit to the Behavioural Analysis Unit, as requested by Unit Chief Supervisory Special Agent A. Hotchner and approved by Unit Chief S. Peterson.

You lay it on top of the envelope. All the papers whine under your tight hand. “You requested it?” you ask.

“Months ago.”

“And Sandy said yes.”

“Strauss, finally. If you sign them today, Penelope’s promised to expedite your processing, whether that’s fair or not. Your desk is ready.”

“Hotch,” you whisper, not without excitement, but sound hard to summon, “are you serious? You’re not messing with me?”

“You deserve it. You have for a long time.”

You squeeze your eyes closed. For five long seconds, you stand there, and you think about how hard you’ve worked and how badly you’ve wanted this, and how much faith everybody’s had in you the whole time. You’re so thankful. For Hotch, Morgan, and especially for Spencer Reid.

“Don’t get upset,” Hotch says, taking your arm. He gives it a good squeeze. It’s so friendly and kind you consider jumping up to wrap your arms around him, but you restrain yourself.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, pressing the packet to your chest.

“You’re welcome. I didn’t mind fighting for you.”

“I need to go and tell Spencer.”

“Spencer, your good friend.”

Your laugh comes in fractures from a sudden deep breath. “My good friend,” you agree. “Hotch, thank you. Thank you, I’m gonna go tell Spencer. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s fine. Just make sure you finish those forms before lunch.”

You leave with some dignity. You close Hotch’s office door, and you walk to the balcony and look down at Spencer where he’s waiting for you. His hair falls against his neck, his head angled up, and he’s smiling so hard he must’ve already known what you were summoned into the office for.

You rush down the stairs. He, in all his loveliness, stands in time to open his arms. “I can’t believe it,” you say, your laugh like a ring as you lean against him. He holds you tight and hugs right back, forcing you to bend under his weight. “Spencer.”

He pulls away just as quickly. “Tell me,” he says.

“I’m gonna be part of the BAU.” It’s so insane to finally say aloud.

Spencer looks extremely, achingly happy for you, but his second hug still surprises you. Your nose ends up pressed to his hair, strands of it falling from behind his ear as his palm cups your shoulder.

You close your eyes. Spencer laughs, his lips a hair's width from your cheek.

Your excitement grows too much. You squirm away from him and wrap your hands around yourself, holding in a girlish, giggly squeal. “I did it. I can’t believe I did it.”

He takes your hand. You barely notice. “Why can’t you believe that? You’re amazing. You work hard and you didn’t give up.”

Morgan returns from wherever he’s been with Emily and Garcia in tow. “There she is!” he says.

It’s possibly the best round of hugs you’ve ever had in your life. The little congratulations cupcake they present you with is the sweetest you’ve ever tasted. Spencer puts a makeshift name tag on your desk and you don’t bother pretending your eyes haven’t filled with tears, but nobody cares or minds.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid scenario #spencer reid drabble #spencer reid fic #spencer reid fanfiction

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fuckyeahgoodomens · 6 months

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I Talk Telly Awards 2023 were won by Good Omens, Staged, David and Michael and David! 🥳🥳🥳❤❤❤

Acceptance Speech for BEST COMEDY PARTNERSHIP - DAVID TENNANT & MICHAEL SHEEN - STAGED

David: Hello, everybody. David Tennant here from TV's Staged. Just dropping by to the I Talk Telly Awards to say... thank you because we are very thrilled to have won an award for Staged.

Georgia: Oh, that's nice.

David: Yeah.

Georgia: What's it for?

David: Best Comedy partnership.

Georgia: Oh, right. For erm.

David: For me and...

Georgia: You and Michael.

David: Me and Michael.

Georgia: Ok. That's... That's nice.

David: You know what that means, Georgia.

Georgia: No, I'm not doing it again.

David: Yeah, it's time.

Georgia: No, I'm not doing it again.

David: You've got to.

Georgia: David, I'm not doing it again.

David: You've got to.

Georgia: Everyone else has moved on and you need to too.

David: It's impolite. We've got to say thank you properly for the award to the lovely people who voted. We love them very much. Go on...

Georgia: I don't wanna do it.

David: Do it.

[Georgia holds big cardboard head of Michael Sheen in front of herself]

David: Heeeeeeeeeeeeyyyyyy! Michaeeeeel! Michael Sheen and David Tennant here saying thank you for recognizing us as Best Comedy Partnership. Very kind. We're thrilled, aren't we, Michael?

[The cardboard head of Michael nods]

David: Anything else you want to say, Michael?

[The cardboard head of Michael shakes as no]

David: Anything at all?

[The cardboard head of Michael shakes as no]

David: Say something in Welsh.

Georgia behind the head: I don't want to say anything in Welsh.

David: Must be something you could say in Welsh.

Georgia behind the head: I don't want to say anything in Welsh.

David: Thanks everybody! Iechyd da! [= Cheers in Welsh]

Acceptance Speech for BEST RETURNING COMEDY - STAGED

[There is Anna and Lyra, with Cardboard Georgia and Cardboard David]

Lyra: Thank you everyone for voting for Staged!

Anna whispers: For Best Returning Comedy.

Lyra: For Best Returning Comedy.

Acceptance Speech for BEST DRAMATIC PERFORMANCE - DAVID TENNANT - LITVINENKO

David: Hello. Welcome to backstage at the Domar Warehouse. I just stepped out of rehearsals for a second because I want to say thank you so much for this award. Litvinenko was such a very special project to be part of. It meant so much to all of us who were involved in telling Sasha Litvinenko's story. It wasn't just another job. We were telling the story of an extraordinary man and his extraordinary family. It was an honour to portray him. And it means so much to have it recognized in this way. Marina Litvinenko and Anatoly, her son, were extraordinary human beings to get to know. And to be entrusted with their story is something that I will be forever proud of. So this means a great deal. So thank you to everyone who voted and thank you to I Talk Telly. I really appreciate it. Thank you so much.

We don't have an acceptance speech but Good Omens won in the BEST RETURNING DRAMA category! :)

#good omens #staged #david tennant #michael sheen #georgia tennant #anna lundberg #lyra #neil gaiman #terry pratchett #i talk telly #i talk telly 2023 #videos #awards #awards win

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soloquel · 2 years

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hiding in a stall of the restroom at this awful party and every time someone comes in bc they need to use the toilet i get so offended. bitch go shit in a bush or smth, i'm being SAD in here!!! i don't wanna smell your poo poo!!!! 😠

#obviously i'm joking bc honestly who hides in the restroom like. hello #anyways. gonna prepare my beautiful joint rn and then i'm gonna fuck off for two hours and when i return everybody will be too drunk to #have noticed my absence. and i'll be high. sounds like a solution to me #🥑; raquel talk

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babywriter · 10 months

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When people are very young, they tend to say that they can’t wait to get older. This was not the case for Lexi, she knew what getting older meant. And today was her 22nd birthday. Seemingly, the years were going by faster than she wanted.

“What did I even do last year?” she thought to herself.

Still, today was a good day, a fun day, with friends and family coming over for dinner. And she had a great time! She was happy to see all those people. Then, her mother brought the cake. The guests singing Happy Birthday was depressing to Lexi, because it just meant another year going by.

“Why are there so many candles?” she thought. Twenty-two candles, one for every year. It was hard for her to look at.

“Make a wish!” said her mother. Lexi half-smiled to be polite, but she did wish something. She wished that she could stay twenty-two forever and when she blew on the candles, time froze. People were stuck mid-clap and mid-cheer.

A man in a suit had appeared. “Hello, Lexi. Happy Birthday.”

“Who are you?”

“Me? Don’t worry about me. I’m just here to make a deal.” He took a dramatic pause. “I know what you wished for Lexi and I can give it to you.”

“What’s the catch?”

“Smart girl. If you want to fulfill your wish, and I assure you I’ll keep my side of the bargain, you’ll need to empty your bowels right here and now in front of everybody…once they’re back to normal.”

“I-I don’t think I understood.”

“Yes, you understood just right. But that’s really the least of it. Because once the wish is activated, and you can’t take it back, you will need diapers. You will need them because you will have very obvious and public accidents. In fact, you’ll never use the bathroom again. Any time you need to go, you’ll stop what you’re doing, announce it loudly and do it. That’ll be out of your control. But, you will be twenty-two forever, as promised. No, no, stop pinching yourself, this is real. You can tell this is real. So what will be Lexi? You’ll have just a few seconds, so be quick.”

“No, no, wait!” cried Lexi, rising from her seat.

With that, the man snapped his fingers, disappeared and everything else returned to normal. Lexi hesitated for a moment, but felt the pressure in her stomach and decided to push.

“Are you okay, dear?” asked her mother.

It was surprisingly easy to push. She did have to grunt and turn red, but it certainly was coming out..

“I did it.” Lexi mumbled to herself. “Oh god.”

Everyone was coming to the realization of what had happened. Needless to say, they were all stunned. The smell hit them too.

“Thank you all for coming.” Lexi’s mother said. “We’ll just do some clean-up. Come on, Lexi.”

The guests looked at each other as Lexi left the room to change.

“Uh-oh! I’m making tinkles!” Lexi shouted from her bedroom. And instead of doing anything to stop it, she stared at the puddle forming at her feet. What an odd sensation. She hadn’t been able to stop herself yet felt it thoroughly as it was happening.

Soon enough, Lexi was back in diapers announcing she was making “oopsie-daisies”, “messies” or “accidents” to anyone within earshot. Like telling her boyfriend “Daddy, I had an accident!” when they were shopping at the mall, or saying “Mommy, I went in my diapie!” to her mother while eating at a restaurant. So much for being twenty-two.

#ab/dl caption #ab/dl girl #ab/dl community #ab/dl fiction #ab/dl stories #diaper stories #diaper captions

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vivwritesfics · 3 months

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Interviewers Are Assholes

The world didn't know about their relationship. But, once they find out, they refuse to leave her alone

(AKA I saw a martin brundle grid walk compilation and he asked someone 'who are you?' and i ran with it)

Loscar x reader

F1 Masterlist

"Are we doing Thanksgiving this year?"

This was not the conversation Logan and Oscar expected to hear from their girlfriend as the three of them stood on the grid. It was normally F1 staff, drivers, engineers, mechanics and such, along with celebrities on the grid before a race. But, dating two drivers on different teams meant not being about to sit in both of their garage at once (she was only human, after all).

So, they stood on the grid together before the race, chatting before the national anthem was played.

"It's kinda early to be talking about Thanksgiving, babe," Logan muttered, shaking his head.

She held her hands up, somewhat defensively. "Just trying to be prepared."

They'd been together for four years at this point. For the first two years of their relationship they hadn't had to worried about traditional celebrations from their countries of origin. But when they all moved in together, she insisted on it.

The first year they'd lived together, they'd gone to Florida for Christmas, spent it with Logan's family.

The next year they'd done Thanksgiving before heading to Australia for a traditional Australian Christmas, filled with seafood and everything.

This year, though, they had no idea what they were doing. Of course she was already stressing about it. It didn't surprise Logan and Oscar in the slightest.

Suddenly Logan and Oscar were looking past her. "What?" She asked, readying herself to turn around. But then Logan and Oscar were retreating. "Guys!" She called, readying to follow them.

There was a hand on her shoulder. She turned around, coming face to face with Martin Brundle on his grid walk. "Hello, who are you?" Martin Brundle asked.

It made sense. She clearly wasn't working for any F1 team, and she was surrounded by celebrities. The fact that she was talking to two of the drivers probably made him all the more curious.

"I am..." But she didn't have an answer for him. Who was she? It had been four years already, why were they hiding it. "I am a... wag," she answered, and immediately regretting it.

What she didn't know was that Logan and Oscar didn't get very far. They stood behind her, just out of view of Martin Brundle's camera, giggling as they listened to her struggle.

"Who's wag are you?" Martin Brundle asked, but he already knew. He'd seen them retreating as he walked over.

She swallowed the lump in her throat. "Good question, Martin," she said. "Who's wag am I?" Did she choose one of the boys? If so, which one? Or did she just come out to the world, tell everyone that she loved Logan Sargeant and Oscar Piastri?

She went with the latter, unaware of how much it would come to affect her. "Sargeant and Piastri," she said, scratching the back of her neck.

This might have been the strangest grid walk Martin Brundle had ever done. She didn't sound entirely happy to be dating the McLaren Driver and the Williams Driver. Don't get me wrong, she was happy to be dating them, but she was ready to kill them. Assholes.

"What kind of result are you expecting from them today?" She asked.

"Well, Martin, I'm always hoping they do well. Every Grand Prix they try their absolute hardest and every week I'm proud of them," she said, the perfect answer.

Lets just say, after the grid walk, the internet kind of blew up. Loscar was a somewhat forgotten ship, replaced by Landoscar. But it had returned and it was real. It was actually real!

As with everything in F1, some fans loved it, some fans didn't. But, most of all, everybody was so curious. Nobody knew this four year long relationship was a thing until a couple of weeks ago. Everybody, especially F1 reporters wanted to know everything.

Media days were completely filled with questions about their relationship. Logan and Oscar rarely got asked about anything else. They didn't mind. They were more than happy to talk about it.

But interviewers took it too far when they pulled her into things. She wasn't media trained in the way they were. She didn't have a PR team that prepared her with every answer for every question. That was how the grid walk had gone so wrong (or so right, if you asked the Loscar boys).

Oscar had gotten through to Q3, Logan hadn't. As always, she was there to comfort him, to hold him close after media duties. Media duties, which were taking ages.

But then the interviewer spotted her standing behind him. "It was recently reviewed to the world that you and Oscar share a girlfriend. How did that come about?"

The camera focused in on her behind him, as she furrowed her brow. It picked up no sound, but watched as her lips moved, forming 'what the fuck?' It was lost on her, and everyone, what this had to do with racing.

"Uhm, well, we've all known each other for our entire lives, it just made sense that we all dated," he said, clearly uncomfortable.

As soon as the interview was over, Logan wrapped his arm around her shoulders and walked her away. "Sorry baby," he said, kissing the top of her head.

"Why is it such a big deal to everyone?" She mumbled, shaking her head.

Most Wags weren't pulled in for interviews. The invasive questions had been a step to far already to the Loscar throuple.

This time, after checking on Oscar in the McLaren garage, kissing him before he went off to to his drivers room. She headed out, meeting the both of them at the car. She never expected to be accosted by an interviewer.

She didn't know his name, she didn't care. He grabbed her arm, pulled her on camera, and shoved a microphone in her face. "So, Y/N, what is it like to be dating to F1 drivers?"

There was a moment before she answered. Her brows were furrowed as she looked between the interviewer and the camera. "Why... why are you interviewing me?"

"The three of you have stunned the world with the announcement of your relationship. When did the three of you meet?"

"Uhm, I-Well... uhm... We've known each other for... sorry, why the hell am I being interviewed? This isn't... I don't want to be interviewed. Please leave me alone."

The interviewer bashfully turned to the camera, trying to recover. As soon as he looked away, she retreated, heading back towards one of her boys drivers room.

Oscar wasn't in his drivers room. He walked towards her, grabbing a hold of her before she had a chance to notice him. "Hey, baby," he said, pulling her close. "Is Logan not ready yet?"

Before answering, she turned back towards the exit, where the interviewer was still waiting. "Let's go get him," she said, pulling Oscar towards the Williams garage.

But Logan, too, was walking towards them. "Logan!" She called, throwing her arms around him. Oscar hung back. When she let go of him, they headed to the exit together. "There's a fucking annoying interviewer up there, and I want to kick his ass," she said, linking her arms through theirs.

"Kick his ass, baby."

They walked to the exit together. Once again, as they walked past the interviewer, he tried to grab their attention. Logan and Oscar were prepared to pull her past, to ignore him, but she stopped. She turned to the interviewer and grabbed his microphone.

"Just a PSA literally everybody," she began. The interviewer and the boys watched on with curiosity. "Our relationship is none of our business. Fuck off."

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anonymouspuzzler · 1 year

Text

i keep gol dang forgetting to make updates about Things

whoopsie!! hello!! you may remember me, from Internet! I've been very busy lately, with things that Aren't Internet! it's probably gonna be another 2-ish weeks or more (depending on how good or bad my finals prep type stuff goes) before I'm back on here streaming and drawing in full force! this is a little bit sad for me because I both miss my friends and streaming with 'em, and because Haha Uh Oh That's One Income Source Down!! but, I will return...

more specific details if you're interested!

if you currently have an in-progress commission with me, I'm working on them whenever time allows! I hope to finish them soon! If you submitted an interest form (which you can do here!) or otherwise talked to me about a commission, I'll be getting back to you as soon as my schedule opens up!

Jay, the hero of my life, has been uploading things on my VODs channel! (everybody say thank you Jay RIGHT NOW.) You can go watch a lot of my cool old streams there, including a bunch of the Luigi's Mansion and PMD vods, some cool one-offs like Smile for Me and Making Guys In Spore, and perhaps most importantly of all, Putt Putt Stream

If you like what I do and have the means to help to support me Not Going Into Even More Debt while I'm not streaming, you can drop me a couple bucks on ko-fi (if you pay $9 or more and leave a request in the comment I'll do a rough ink drawing for you as thanks!) or contribute to various home goods & niceries on my throne! Never required, never mandatory, always appreciated!!

a few Big Things I've been working on to come in the next couple months. please stay tuned :)

#anonymous puzzler talks #just figured I should make this info Outright ya know! I think I've talked about it in various places but always good to have it in one!#i can't emphasize enough! money is never a requirement! i know how it be on this Bitch Of An Earth! take care yourself first!!#but- if you do have the means and want to toss some bucks my way- wow! always appreciated!!#you are directly feeding me and my kitty by doing this!!!!

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togament · 6 days

Note

Hello ✨

How are you doing? It has been a while, since I've been so obsessed with an anime and an anime boy at that 😩 Could I ask for general romantic to naughty Headcanons for Hayato Suo with a female reader?

It would be absolutely lovely 💕 Thank you

hullo, anon! welcome welcome to the winbre fandom ✨ pull up a chair, relax and brainrot with us why wontcha?

suo is such an enigma — he’s so hard to read but he’s so… open at the same time? love him to bits tho. ok onto the romantic, sappy, filthy and sexy headcanons for our eye-patch having pretty boy.

𝐂𝐎𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 : fem!reader, suo eaaaaats, suo's mean :c, READER BEGS, heavy on the teasing

NSFW under the cut later. so pls, MDNI ok? besitos mua.

S F W .

absolute gentleman. this man will open doors for you, hold your purse without any embarrassment, bring you 'just because' bouquets and celebratory bouquets, wine and dine you. you are absolutely a spoiled son of a gun with suo everybody around you is kinda jealous of it.

loves it when you smell him. LOOK AT HIM AND TELL ME HE DOESN'T LOOK LIKE HE SMELLS GREAT. I DARE YOU. DOUBLE DARE YOU. he rarely ever breaks a sweat in fights and on hot summer days it's weird. he finds it endearing when you lean close to him to smell his shirt or coat. (he sneaks in forehead kisses that way :)))))) ) ((he smells lightly of soap, heavy on the sandalwood incense, clove and patchouli and you can't tell me otherwise.))

has to have your hand in his at all times. no matter what. he likes teasing sakura and nirei whenever he catches them eyeing you both subtly (little shit). if you're averse to physical touch, don't fret. just having you close to him is enough.

is great at giving massages. LISTEN. have you seen his hands? HI??? your man gives you the best back rubs, can wring out the worst knots on your body like no big deal. it's almost like it comes naturally for him. soft pressure? he's got you. medium? sure. hard pressure? "are you certain, dove?" well... okay.

HEAVY ON THE ACTS OF SERVICE. he is at your beck and call 24/7. a lover, personal chef, masseuse, help and a bodyguard rolled into one. he does anything and everything for you without questioning it. he's just happy you're happy.

NSFW UNDER THE CUT.

N S F W .

absolute gentleman has a mean streak. "you're gushing all over me, dove." he coos against your skin, a nasty smirk painted across his beautiful features. his fingers expertly prodding you. fuck. he knows your body better than you do. "give me another." he adds harshly, his tone a dark contrast from his previous softness. he's pulling another orgasm from your cunt. the naughty, wet squelching reverberating through your bedroom. he loves fucking you slow but god he loves it even more when you're a quivering, fucked out mess on his fingers. his little doll.

loves it when you smell him loves smelling you. ever notice your favorite panties disappearing from your laundry hamper only to have it materialize in your closet, neatly folded? you could have sworn you didn't wash and fold it-- blame your lover. he likes stealing your used panties, holding it to his nose as he takes a deep inhale. his other hand is on his pretty cock, pumping desperately, animalistic. it doesn't even seem like it's him at that moment. when he eats you out, first thing you feel touch your cunt isn't his tongue. it's always, always his nose.

has to have his hand in his at all times has to have his fingers stuffed inside you at all times. as soon as you both are alone, he's all over you. panties slid to the side, alternating between rubbing your clit and fucking you on his slender fingers. he needs you to get a quick nut out for him before the others return -- can you manage?

is great at giving massages--and loves teasing you while doing it. "s-suo.. please..." you whimper below him while he's massaging your thighs, brushing his fingers against your cunt but just missing it by a little bit. he chuckles, his tongue darts out to wet his lips. "relax, dove. you're tensing up again." he says as he does it again, now fully rubbing your clit for a moment before pulling away abruptly. you curse under your breath. "don't tell me you want me to stop." he teases, an annoying lilt to his voice. he knows what he's doing to you.

HEAVY ON THE ACTS OF SERVICE loves giving and giving and giving. this man. THIS MAN. he loves eating pussy. and I mean LOVES eating pussy. he could bust from eating you out alone -- he's not even jacking himself off. he's soiled a couple of his pants before. you wouldn't know. he loves listening to your breathing go from soft heaves to staggered. if you wanted to ask him to eat you out, he's already on his knees before you finish your sentence. make sure you're ready to cum more than 3 times.

a/n: ehe this was fun. suo's so fun to write. he's so filthyyyyyy UGHHHHHHHHH. i hope you liked it, bbs.

#wind breaker #windbreaker #windbreaker x reader #wind breaker (satoru nii)#windbreaker (satoru nii)#hayato suo #hayato suo x reader #suo x reader #windbreaker smut #wind breaker smut #hayato suo smut #bibi spicy asks

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monzabee · 1 year

Text

two sides of the same coin - mv1

masterlist

Summary: The one where you try to convince yourself that you’re not falling for your teammate, but can’t help it when you realise that he is not that different from you after all.

Pairing: max verstappen x reader

Word Count: 3.4k

Warnings: cursing, mommy issues (same), daddy issues, ISSUES OKAY, ISSUES, EVERYBODY HAS ISSUES, J*s Verstappen (yikes), allusions to eating disorders, a singular mention of divorce babe divorce, angst (why am i writing so much angst), daniel ricciardo being the best older grid-brother there is, slight frenemies to lovers if your squint, i don’t really like horner but he’s like the only father figure max ever had so he’s a good guy in this one.

Request: “teammates to lovers with max please!❣️”

Author’s Note: hi, hey, hello!! i did NOT expect to get this out today, but there you go! it was so much fun to write and honestly, i might slowly becoming a max girl (sorry carlos). anyway, please check the warning tags if you haven’t already, because there might be some possibly triggering content. thank you, anon, for the request, i hope you guys enjoy! good morning, noon or night wherever you are, xoxobee

Please also note that all of my works are protected under copyright, and not available for reposting on other platforms.

2018

“Do you have to leave?” You ask the Australian in front of you who, coincidentally, is kneeled on the floor and in the middle of packing his bag. “Can’t you just… I don’t know, stay?”

“Come on, cheer up.” He says, “You’re supposed to be happy that I’m changing teams, Y/N.”

You scoff, dropping yourself to lay down and bending your knees to rest your feet on the couch. “I don’t have to be happy about anything.” You throw the tennis ball in your hand towards the wall, catching it and doing it all over again in a pattern in which you know is going to make Daniel mad.

“Any other potential driver would be happy about this, Horner already told you the seat would be yours. So, there is no reason why you shouldn’t feel happy about this.”

“Well, I still don’t.” You huff, turning your head towards the man jokingly glaring at you.

He laughs, gives you a look and returns to his task while shaking his head slightly. “You’re a very weird girl, Y/N.”

“Wow, Daniel. That’s brand-new information.” A third voice interrupts your discussion from the door. It’s Max leaning against the frame with his arms crossed across his chest. You halt the movement of your hands to send him a scathing look.

You roll your eyes, mumbling something along the lines of “No one asked you,” under your breath.

“Play nice, Max Emilian.” Daniel mumbles, making the Dutch groan and you laugh. “Fuck, how did I pack this in the first place?”

“You wouldn’t have this issue if you didn’t get too comfortable in your driver’s room, Danny.” You offer, raising yourself on your elbows to get a better look at the already bursting luggage. “You still have a ton of stuff at the hotel, too.”

“Maybe you should just stop living like a slob.” Max offers this time, making both you and Daniel to glare at him. “Jesus, tough room.”

“You should become a comedian,” you tell him with a voice dripping with sarcasm, “Max Emilian.”

He straightens his posture quickly, “You know what, Y/N–”

“Calm down, children.” Daniel sighs and giving you both the look. “You two need to get along now that I’m not going to be there to stop some kind of childish feud–”

“It’s not childish–” You argue at the same time Max complains, “She pushed me off the track!”

You furiously get up from your place on the couch and walk towards him with an accusatory finger extended towards him. “It wasn’t me, you dickhead, it was Charles! And it was an accident!”

“I don’t care,” He contends, “You were helping him push me off the track.” He shakes his head while mumbling, “Incident, inchident, as if I’m stupid.”

“Why would I help him when I was racing against both of you, Max?”

“I don’t know,” He shrugs, a devilish smirk on his lips. “Maybe you had a crush on him.”

“I- I did not!” Your shout is high pitched, you gasp and start to follow him with enraged steps when he walks out of the room. “You get back right here, Max, you insufferable twat!”

Daniel is left with an empty room and a luggage which is about to explode. “They’ll be fine,” he announces, mostly to himself but also at the poor intern who watches the corridor you’re both walking down in while continue your very loud fight. “Do you think you can get me another luggage?”

2019

It’s not like you hate Max, you don’t hate him at all. In fact, he’s gone out of his way to make you feel comfortable from your change in role from a reserve driver to the second driver at Red Bull. Looking back, you can now say that everything happened so quickly. One day, you were the reserve driver for Aston Martin Red Bull Formula One team, and the next day, Christian Horner invited you to his office to offer you an opportunity of a lifetime. Having a reserve driver who was a woman had already had the team under a large microscope – some calling it a step in the right direction whilst others arguing that it was nothing more than a PR move to gain sympathy. You tried telling your team principle your concerns about the media but he assured you that all will be dealt with and all you would need to do is drive a good race.

So, you left the office with a renewed, and rewritten, contract and never looked back. After that, it was a whirlwind of media duties (both due to your ‘promotion’ and Daniel’s departure), photoshoots, and much more. Your trusted Apple Watch was replaced with a Tag Heuer one, which left you terrified of losing it. But Horner assured you that they’d deal with it – “Should you ever lose the watch, but try not to because it costs a lot of money, okay?” Max was with you in every step of the way, even though his father clearly unapproved of your pseudo-friendship. You sometimes think the only reason the two of you ever became friends is due to the fact that it was forced upon you due to you being teammates, but Max proves this to be wrong every time he brings you coffee in morning briefings because; “I don’t want for them to repeat it and extend the meeting because you’re sleepy,” or when he checks up on you before a race in a particular track he knows you’re anxious about; “Just making sure you’re calmed down so you don’t accidentally hit me,” or how he comforts you after every fight you have with your mother.

Which brings us to another topic – your mother. You suppose what J.D Salinger said was true – Mothers are all slightly insane. And you are allowed to say that, because yours takes the term ‘dance mom’ to a whole other level. You thought since Daniel convinced your mother that he’d take care of you, she’d stay away, but she became very interested in your career as a racing driver. You’d hoped that wouldn’t be the case, but your dreams are crushed like your car when she shows up in your first race. You two have a very public fight, which Christian has to break up for both of your sakes, leaving you to lock yourself in your driver’s room for the remainder of the race. It’s only when your door is knocked you realise the race is over. You’re about to yell back against the persistent knocks that you want to be left alone when you hear his voice.

You get up and open to door to let Max in, only to find yourself crashing in his arms on the couch, sobbing through his calming words. “It’s going to be fine,” he says and somehow you realise maybe the two of you aren’t so different.

2020

Between the pandemic and the new regulations, the 2020 season rocks your world – in a totally not cool way. The paddock buzzes with the health restrictions, everyone wanting to keep their drivers and staff safe. The stress from the unknown which comes from the fact that you’re in a freaking pandemic and that fact that your mother and Helmut Marko is enough to keep you on the edge throughout the whole season. The fights with your mother now more prominent than ever, you’re fairly sure that the poor people who are supposed to be doing their jobs can’t even do that because the fight seems to continue wherever you go. One day it’s about the fact that you couldn’t get a podium, the next time it’s because of the fact that you were third, you didn’t push enough, you pushed too hard, you didn’t use enough throttle, and the list goes on. You can feel the light in you fading with every fight, and the criticising jabs being masked as ‘little comments’, you’re just glad that you’re getting through the season without wanting to explode.

It's between practice sessions when you sit down for lunch with your mother. You both order your food – her a salad, and you a sandwich. After the waiter leaves, your mother lets out an unsatisfied hum.

“What’s wrong, mom?” You ask, trying to keep your voice and facial expression calm.

“Wouldn’t it be better if you ate something healthier?” She asks, her voice condescending in every way you absolutely hate. “It would save your engineers a whole lot of work.”

You sigh, turning your attention to your phone in your hands to appear busy. “The world isn’t going to end if I eat two slices of bread for lunch, mom.” You mumble.

“It doesn’t mean you shouldn’t maintain healthier habits, I heard of this new diet–”

“I think she said she’d prefer the sandwich, Ms. Y/LN.” A voice interrupts, the one which you’ve become accustomed with. When you raise your head up, Max meets your eyes with an expectant look. “I’m sorry to keep your lunch short, but Christian said he wanted to meet us.”

And with that, he quickly whisks you away from your mother. You’re confused when he leads you to his driver’s room instead of Christian’s office. You look at him with raised eyebrows, “I thought we were meeting Christian.”

“Well, I might’ve lied.” He shrugs. Then, he moves towards the serving plate on the little table and motions you to sit. You’re even more surprised to find the sandwich you’ve ordered on the plate. He must’ve anticipated this because he explains it as he offers you the plate. “I was sitting a few tables over and heard you order it, now eat.”

“Thanks, Max.” You whisper with a breathy voice.

“It’s going to be fine.” He whispers back, making sure you eat every bite.

2021

Everything is much more tense this season. Although the go through the races is podium finishes and points (and even a few wins), you realise Max is more on edge than you are. This also puts you in a slight state of panic, as he’s been the one better at keeping the cool between the two of you, but you manage to put your own insecurities aside to help your friend who’s done the same for you for the past two years. It starts with encouraging words and continues with comforting touches which evolve into hands lingering around after hugs. It becomes stolen looks across the rooms or group interviews where they separated the two of you. It later becomes holding each other’s hands under the tables during function and award shows and even holding each other in the comfort of your respective driver’s or hotel rooms.

Max brings home a win in Monaco, while you steal the first place from Seb in Azerbaijan. He’s not bitter about it, in fact he congratulates you and doses you in so much champagne you have to take two showers to get the stickiness off your hair when you get back to your hotel room. While the season seems to be going for you from the race perspective, you realise Max is starting to have more problems with his father. You try your best when it comes to reassuring him, but both you and Max realise that you’re more open to being comforted than him. So, you provide the silence he craves and he eventually lets you know that he is ready for your cuddles. It’s a sad but a good routine.

There’s one incident with an interview during the season. The tensions are high and people are starting to question your ability as a driver more now that you are bringing home podiums and wins. They are sceptical about the fact that you are a woman and question your every move and achievement – but you don’t mind it, you’re doing it for the little girls everywhere who watch you and hope to achieve the same things as you one day.

An interviewer asks, “Isn’t it hard to focus on your task when you’re surrounded with nineteen other drivers who happen to be all men?”

You’re still tired from the previous race and not getting a full night’s sleep the night before, that it takes a while for you to comprehend the question. Thankfully, Daniel and Seb are there to defend you alongside Max. You turn your focus to the interviewer who asked the question as their protests die down. “Well,” you start with a shaky laugh, “I know the past year has messed up us all, but I’m not particularly into anything involving masks or stuff that conceal the face.” There is a nervous laughter around the room and the interviewer is not pleased with your answer. “Shall we continue?” You ask in the sweetest voice you can muster. When you look at Daniel and Max, both of them grin at you while giving you a supportive thumbs-up.

You find yourself in his hotel room in Austin, a couple weeks after the race in Turkey. His eyes are focused on the portable screen as he plays FIFA. You’ve realised it’s a pre-race routine for him – not that you understand, his eyes must be tired after looking at the screen for too long. He asks you if you want to play and you agree, albeit timidly. He lets you play a few rounds after taking over and playing for fourteen hours straight to find himself ranking 21 worldwide.

“You can always join an esports team after this.” You joke, your head is on the back of the couch as you look up at him. He laughs, agreeing you without any objection.

“Maybe I should.”

“What, you’re not going to continue racing until you are an old prune?” You ask.

His face contorts. “No, that’s not the goal, schatje.”

“Then tell me,” You move your hands under your chin to appear more interested despite the sleep in your eyes. “what is the goal?”

“To prove a point, and then I’m free.” He replies, mimicking your earlier pose.

“You’re going to be fine, Max.” You speak in a soft voice; your touch is soft on his cheek when you bring one of your hands to caress the skin. “You’re going to become the champion this year.”

“How do you know?” Max asks, you can tell it is not to be sceptical, but it is in genuine curiosity.

“Female intuition.”

He lets out a big laugh, grabbing your wrist gently and pressing a kiss on the tips of your fingers. “Come on, we have to sleep before tomorrow. He have a race to win.”

He wins, by the way – the race in Austin. And then, he goes on to win the 2021 World Championship. There are tears in your eyes as you congratulate him on the team radios, and after you get out of your car. He brings you on the podium and kisses you in front of the whole world. You realise that he was right all those times after all, everything is going to be fine.

2022

Both of you are in a bubble when you get to the 2022 season. He kisses you before every race, you do the same. You wish each other luck and proceed to race on the track the best you can. You find each other after every race, mostly covered in champagne, and kiss again. Both of your parents were opposed to your relationship at first – your mother and his father. It’s funny to think that now, because he’s introduced you to his mother and you introduced him to your dad, and as far as their approval goes, the love extends both ways. You’ve told your mother to stop coming to races, presenting a clear argument without raising your voice once, which leaves her no choice to agree to your wishes. It was scary to even consider doing it, but the proud look on Max’s face is enough for you to do it all again.

You win the race in Monaco this year. Max is P3, but he looks just as happy as you when you direct your bottle of champagne towards him. Although Carlos is there with you on the podium, in that moment, it feels like the world consists of only the two of you. You go to celebrate with the team, of course. Christian pushing you into the pool and you pulling Max, and consequently him, alongside you. Someone captures the moment and you post it to your social media. Daniel makes sure everyone knows that he approves.

The fight is still on, as Lewis would say. You know both him and Max are still fighting for the title. No one expected you to join the two of them in their fight for the title. The first few races are hard at the start of the season, but you outrace most of your friends on the track after your win in Monaco. By the time you get to Abu Dhabi for the season’s last race, you’re a shaky mess. He takes you into his arms and whispers affirming promises into your ear.

“You’re going to become the world champion,” He announces to you. “I know you’re going to do it.”

Your voice comes out creaking as you question, “How do you know?”

There is a warm smile on his lips as he answers, “Female intuition.”

You both get ready to race before you could answer because of the knock on the door.

“YOU DID IT, Y/N, YOU ARE THE FIRST FEMALE WORLD CHAMPION IN THE HISTORY OF FORMULA ONE!” Horner shouts through your radio.

You’re still shaking by the time you park your car, and can’t get out even when your team huddles around you to celebrate. It takes a while to take it all in, but as you stand on the podium as the reigning champion with the man you love, nothing else matters to you in the world. You look around to see the smile on people’s faces, people shouting and cheering for you, and you even see your father who holds a banner with one of his hands as his other arm is wrapped around your team principal. It’s a bittersweet feeling, winning the same season one of your best friends announce that he is going to become a reserve driver. But Daniel is right there with your dad and Christian, screaming your name with pride. After your national anthem is played and you pop the champagne, you’re trying to get your eyes dry from all the tears as Max suddenly falls to his knees. You kneel with him with panic, of course, thinking that there might be something wrong with his heartbeat or something worse. But right as you’re about to call for help he brings something from his back towards you, opening the small box while maintaining his eye contact with you. There is an uproar of cheers around you, but it doesn’t matter. As far as you’re concerned, there’s only Max and you – and you and Max.

“Marry me, liefje.” He says.

You nod your head, “Yes.”

He gathers you up in his arms after he puts the ring on your finger. You realise that he was right from the beginning, everything is more than fine.

2023

“You need to stop doing this to yourself.” You announce as you watch Daniel struggle with his overflowing luggage – again. “You’re not even driving this season.”

“It’s not my fault, I can’t not take what the fans give me.” He tries to defend himself; he points to the suitcase with frustration. “Can you help me, please?”

“Only because I am in a good mood.” You announce as you kneel beside him and the two of you try closing the monstrosity in front of you.

You know Max is there before he announces his arrival. “Putting my wife to work, Daniel?” He asks. He comes to kneel with the two of you helping you close the luggage up. Then, he kisses you softly on your lips as he mumbles, “Hello, Mrs. Verstappen.”

“Hello, Mr. Verstappen.” You giggle.

“God, you guys are insufferable.” Daniel pretends to gag, receiving glares from the both of you. “Remember when you guys hated each other? Yeah, I miss those days.”

“We never hated each other.” Max shrugs.

“Yeah,” You seem to agree with your husband. “It was just an inchident of misunderstanding.”

“I better be your future kids’ godfather!” He yells behind you as you start to leave (your) driver’s room. “Children, bloody children.” He mumbles to himself, he waves his arms for help when he spots one of the interns, “Hey, do you think you can get me another luggage?”

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undercovercameron · 8 months

Text

stamina

summary: you have a tiny bit of an issue that can only be resolved through intercourse. no, really.

notes: hello everybody i have returned after a month and a half and this one just simply popped into my head today! i would say i have no idea why but ive been watching clips of the other zoey on tiktok and they’ve corrupted me… cabin in the woods with drew starkey? till the walls crumble. features: choking kink, explicit language, degradation, oral sex (f receiving), masturbation, and generally rough sex. enjoy my darlings

tags: rafe cameron x fem!reader

word count: 2859

You don’t know exactly when it started, but your little problem had become a real nuisance.

You just know the first time it happened, however long ago, made Rafe Cameron finally fall in love with you. Hey, it took months of him fighting with himself about you and struggling with a multitude of other family issues, but the day did finally come. It was glorious, you remember that. But this long repeated issue was kind of impeding your sex life. Well, it was affecting your sex life that actually had been affecting your sleep and caffeine and food patterns. It was a big ole circle. You even had been feeling faint due to the excessive cardio.

The issue wasn’t as much an issue as it was one of Rafe’s favorite things about you, turns out. And he wasn’t afraid to show it. Well, make you show it.

You two had dozed on the couch for a little more than an hour, your head pressed to his shoulder and your body curled around the side of his. He had an arm caging you to him, fingers splayed across the curve of your abdomen. Turns out, some documentary his younger sister recommended wasn’t as interesting as you two thought.

The TV makes a loud beeping noise, and Rafe jerks awake at the intrusion. His hand not pressed to your (now exposed) stomach rubs at his eyes, blinking rapidly. Christ. It’s late.

The fire beneath your TV crackles, and he can feel the slight warmth from it on his cheeks.

This was his Aunt Meredith’s house, and she was letting the two of you stay in it for a little while as a makeshift fall break. You’d slept three nights so far in this big wooden mansion, but you could hardly say you felt rested. You always were taking futile catch-up naps throughout the day in front of this lovely fireplace.

Rafe’s movement makes you phase into consciousness, eyes coming into focus as your ears adjust too.

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs, stretching both his hands up above his head. The hem of his shirt lifts, just a little taste. You blink at him. “What?” His face splits into a grin and his eyes close as his muscles flex and relax.

“You know what.” Your lips twitch and you look teasingly up at him.

“Mm, I don’t think I know what you mean.” His hand brushes the hair from the side of your face not facing him, and he pulls away slightly to thumb at your chin. “Could you explain?”

“No,” you sigh, pulling yourself up slightly with a hand pressed to the seat cushions. Your leg curls once again around one of his as you turn towards him. You relax against the back cushions, eyes on his face. “No.” Your eyebrows raise, challenging.

“I don’t think you want me to have to make you explain,” he mutters, sliding down to a little above your eye level. His eyes stay on yours.

“I don’t think you could if you wanted to.” Your eyes snap back to the TV, pulling your legs away from his. “I’m trying to watch this.” You grab the remote from the ottoman and turn it up. Rafe just watches you earnestly.

You're about sixty long seconds into “watching the documentary” with your feet up until you feel Rafe’s breath on you. His lips meet your forehead, ghosting a kiss to your skin, before sliding down to your temple. You try your best to remain focused. But his opposite hand from you (always his hand) slides up your waist to settle near your collarbone, fingers lightly pressing into your shoulder. His lips migrate to your jaw, and then your neck. You fight a shiver.

You feel yourself tilting your head around to satisfy this position, eyes falling closed briefly before snapping back open. You grip his wrist.

“Rafe,” you say, but what you thought was confident just sounds weak.

He hums, mouth pressing to your neck and getting into dangerous hickey territory, and your eyes just close. It feels so good, this man leaving you breathless and pliant. It makes you so weak.

“You know you want to,” Rafe murmurs, eyes moving up to your face, and he relishes in your intake of breath.

Your fingers find his jaw and cheek and you pull his mouth up to yours, finally kissing him like you need. He makes a noise into your mouth, triumphant, and his hands grip your hips tightly. He moves you, sliding you onto the long part of the L sofa, and follows you with his forehead pressed to yours and his lips so close but so far. You pant up into him.

He slides further between your legs, parting them with a hand behind your knee, and you let out a content sigh when you feel the weight of him. The weight of that.

His hand finds your throat and then he’s leaning over you, hips pressed to yours and kissing away your sounds softly. His hips rock forward into where the seam of your sweatpants is, and your moan is swallowed. You grip tight on the hand on your neck, squeezing your eyes tight. It shouldn’t feel this good, this quick.

You cant your hips up into his, sloppily matching his rhythm, and your cheeks flush when your heart beats heavily in your throat. His mouth parts from yours and slides wetly down to your upper chest, the neck of your slightly cropped sweatshirt pushed away. You just gasp above him, hips picking up. The slide of his pants is so perfect on your clit, and you feel your blood pumps at the place he squeezes you around your middle.

You recognize what he’s doing, now. His fingers press into your abdomen, pushing it up and down and up and down, and you push your hand on top of your mouth to muffle the embarrassing cries you’re letting out.

His head raises from your collarbone, lips wet and pink, and he tugs your wrist down.

“I need to hear you, baby.” And then he’s pulling back to shove your sweatpants off of you and to the floor between the couch and the ottoman. He dips back down, mouth and hand insistent upon you, and he digs a hand into the crotch of your underwear. Your hands flail for a moment, useless, and settle on gripping his shoulder and the arm that pins you to the cushions.

“Rafe,” you sputter, head pushing hard back against the cushions. Your hair is messy and probably tangled with this friction, but you don’t have even half a thought to care. “Please, Rafe, don’t stop.” Your back arches, trying to push your body tight against his. He tries not to grin above you, watching your face contort at his touch. His fingers slide in your slickness, an embarrassing amount, and your throat catches a breath. The tension in your abdomen twists.

“I thought you wanted to watch the show, sweetheart.” Two of his fingertips push past your slit easily and curl. He bites his lip above you, loving the look on your face. You squeeze your eyes even harder, fist clenching in his shirt. Your heart beats louder and louder until—

“And we’re going to practice your stamina, too.” His voice is raspy when he pulls away.

There it is. The issue. Your not-so-issue-but-sorta-an-issue issue. Yes. You had been having trouble—well, stopping. Your libido was extremely high, you had a very sexy man at your disposal who liked to please you, you were confident in your body, so why not?

Why not is because your body was sore constantly. Between your legs was the perfect amount of sore, but still sore. You had trouble sleeping and drank more coffee and energy drinks. Rafe, ever the giver, obliged you always. He liked to fuck. He really liked to fuck you. So it was a terrible, terrible cycle. You were really starting to wonder about your self control. So it makes sense that maybe you should consider working on it.

But Rafe deciding that right now? The second he finally fingers you? It makes your head spin.

Literally, as when you sit up your vision is flooded with spots.

“What the fuck?” You croak, sounding miserable, and your eyes look up at him, almost teary. (Hey— you really like what he does to you.)

“You’re fine, baby, you’re fine. I just want what’s best for you.” He pulls away from your neck, instead smoothing a hand from your sternum to your hips.

“What are you, a fucking counselor?” You grump, eyebrows furrowed, and he just rolls his eyes.

“Better start being grateful, Y/N. You know how I get.”

He settles onto his stomach, keeping your legs loose around him as he bends to kiss you. You kiss back, still annoyed but also still wildly turned on, and you can’t help but curl a hand around his neck and up into his hair. His lips part from yours and start their trek downwards.

His hands push your sweatshirt up when he gets to right above your belly button, and his touch is light on your sensitive skin. You close your eyes in the nice feeling.

His fingers curl around where your thigh meets your ass, pressing tight into the muscle, and you reflexively lift them up and settle them down onto his shoulders. Sneaky. His mouth finds your inner thighs then, biting into the flesh, and you successfully fight a shiver. His breath is hot on the crotch of your panties.

His fingers find the hem of the fabric, eyes settling briefly on yours before tugging your panties to the side and getting his mouth on you.

You immediately moan— figures. You push your head up slightly, wanting to see, and his head shakes between your legs, hair tickling your thighs as you whine. So hot it should be illegal.

One of Rafe’s hands crawls up your flesh to your chest, fingers finding the underside of your tit and cupping it. He squeezes right as his tongue curls into your seam and he shakes his head again. You nearly shriek but slap.a hand over your mouth, no punishment in your future with his hand on your tit and the other gripping your outer thigh.

Well, you were wrong for the second time tonight. First, thinking your loving boyfriend would give you an orgasm when you wanted one, and second when you assume the same very boyfriend wouldn’t do things simply to piss you off or edge you. Rafe reaches up with the hand previously on your thigh and grabs your wrist. He snags the other one and presses them tight against your lower abdomen, eyes fiery. Your blood surges hot in your veins and the tension in your abdomen resurfaces.

You just flex your legs and bring them further up, wanting your seemingly increasingly distant misery to end.

He hums in approval at that, the feeling making your pelvis vibrate; and you try desperately to suck in a breath. It feels so good, you don’t know how to last longer. Your head slowly tilts to the side, a little tired, and your glazed eyes meet the TV screen again.

Your third folly. Thinking Rafe Cameron would let you live any mistake down.

“Oh, you wanna watch it now?” He pulls away, spitting at your pussy, and an eyebrow quirks. You just still, not sure of the direction here. “Okay. Watch it.” He licks you once, twice, and pulls away slowly. You turn your head, wanting to gauge his reaction, but he pushes your head back towards the TV with his hand. You see in your peripheral him pushing down the waistband of his pants. Your eyes flinch ever so slightly towards him, and he smacks lightly at your outer thigh.

“Watch it, since you wanted to so bad.” He pulls his dick out from his underwear and spits into his hand. His gaze is locked on your pink face, waiting for you to react. He moves his hand tantalizingly slowly, knowing you can see the movement. You pant, catching your breath, and he just watches your chest heave.

His heart rate catches when he gets the full sight of you, open and wide in front of him with dirty panties and your sweatshirt rucked up to expose your bare chest. It makes him even harder.

“What are they talking about right now?” His eyes bore into the side of your face, hand moving steadily still.

“Uh-h, whales.” Your voice cracks and you swallow. He doesn’t laugh like you think he will, he just bends down and kisses the corner of your mouth.

“Doing so good.” It’s so quiet you think you miss it. He kisses you full on when you tilt up to him, neck straining at the angle.

He finally, finally pushes his weight onto you, dick pressed tight against your pelvis. You meet his mouth again and groan at the feeling, moving your body in a way you hope feels good. His jaw clenches, which is a good sign.

“You do it, you want it so bad,” he murmurs, lips hovering over your cheek bone. “Since you can’t ever have enough, baby.”

You exhale through your nose, concentrating, and push your hand down. You fumble for a second but eventually get your hips angled in a way to where he can sink into you. He does, pushing against your hips, and slides easily all the way to the hilt.

He groans openly, eyes closed for a moment, and you choke on a moan. So deep, so fast that it steals the breath from your throat.

On second thought, Rafe’s hand finds its place on your throat as the other braces against your hip.

“So wet,” he says through his apparent awe, bottom lip drooping slightly. You revel in the look on his face. He’s all pink and dewy, it makes you sweat. He pushes forward, a bruising strength in his hips, and you feel yourself be pushed up an inch on the couch.

He follows you and lowers himself slightly, keeping you in place as he jerks sloppily into you, overwhelmed by sensation. You curl your leg around his waist, fingers interwoven in his hair as he dips to kiss you. He pants into your mouth, hot and demanding. You just arch your back, feeling him squeeze hard at the flesh of your waist as you clench around him.

You do it again, loving the reaction, and bite your lip as he chokes slightly in surprise. His hips slow, the sounds of your hurried panting slowing as well, but he goes twice as hard. With the intent to bruise, you think. Probably. He would love that.

His eyebrow arches slightly before he’s burying his face in your neck and really giving you his all. You feel the muscles flex on his back where you press your hands, mouth open and wide and silent. Your eyes roll back into your head as he lets go of your neck and fixes his grasp on your hip.

“Rafe,” you gasp, barely getting a comprehensible sound out. “Yes, shit, baby.” Your man, finally treating you so well.

“Let me hear you,” he says, hot in your ear, and reaches down to rub that one spot he’s memorized the location of. He’s a little too familiar, as we know.

You inhale and exhale shakily, and then you’re silent and your head is pushing back into the cushions. Your body floods with feeling, from the tip of your toes to the top of your head. Your toes curl. You feel like you’re floating.

It’s on the come down that you moan shakily and it turns into a bashful laugh.

“Fuck,” you whine, and his thrust turns into his last as he buries himself up to the hilt and groans in a staccato. You feel him catch your shoulder slightly as he bites the cushion, muscles slowing.

“Fuck.” He desperately tries to catch his breath. He peels himself slightly from you, sitting up.

His vision comes back into focus, and it’s then that he notices the marks on your neck. He thumbs an especially red one, eyes scanning your face.

“Oops.”

“You’re an idiot.” But you smile.

“Hey, we traded,” he says, pulling away completely from you and standing up with a stumble. He winces as he pushes his shoulder blades to meet.

“How’s that?” You ask, thinking you’re humoring him. You sit up, bringing your now cold and damp panties back to where they should lie and pulling your shirt down. You’re just realizing how cold it is in here.

“My back hurts like a bitch, and you have hickeys. Plus I didn’t let you cum so we practiced that. Boom.” He gestures wildly and lets his hands smack back down to his sides. You just stare at him.

“You are the weirdest motivational coach I’ve ever met, young man.”

“Don’t call me a young man.” He turns towards the primary bedroom you’d been sleeping in and disappears into the darkness. “I fuck like I’m 35.”

#obx #obx x reader #obx x you #obx x y/n #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron oneshot #rafe cameron fanfic #rafe cameron smut #rafe cameron fluff #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron imagine

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dnphobe · 2 months

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hello, analysis question. what do you think about the fact that in the slime video dan is the one whose blood is spilled first? the only wound he has is on his hand, as opposed to phil's much more severe one. does this mean anything?

okay, this is going to be based more in personal interpretation than something with references and sources because off the top of my head i can't think of situations that mirror this in horror. I will, however, be sourcing from other people's anlysis on here when it's relevant.

The first blood spilled in a piece of media heavily relating to horror or death is most often the inciting incident. However, I don't think that's relevant here. I think the inciting incident of danandphilcrafts is something that happened off screen. As is very well explained in this post by @dapg-otmebytheballs, everything that happens in these videos is a joint and agreed upon act created by a joint belief system. BUT...there's a clear pattern from all the way back in Squareflakes that Phil is the ringleader in what they're doing. He explains the crafts to Dan and the Audience, he tells him and us what to do and chides Dan if he's not doing it right. It's my personal interpretation that Phil was the original believer and the one who brought Dan in.

That makes Dan's blood something else–the blood of the innocent. The spilling of innocent blood is an inciting incident in itself. It's a point of no return. and can be tied back to its importance in rituals. Rituals (at least in media, i don't claim to speak on real practices) often ask for virgin blood. virginity = innocence. This is often interpreted as a sexual virgin, as that is how the world is most often used today, but (from what i've read) it actually refers to someone who's blood has never been used in a ritual before. Phil has already been sacrificed once, in Potato Prints, so perhaps part of the reason Dan's blood was used is because just Phil's was no longer viable to summon Him.

Back to Phil being the leader of the two of them, I believe the reason Dan gets off with a much smaller wound is, perhaps, a matter of responsibility. If Phil got him into this, then it's only right that he take the brunt of the sacrifice. Dan's sacrifice, all along, has been his innocence, not that either of them know that. By spilling innocent blood, and using it in a ritual, that virginity/innocence is lost. and it only continues to be lost even more as the ritual progresses, resulting in the biggest lost of innocence of all, killing another human being.

Dan's blood being spilled is the point of no return. With Phil back alive again after the events of Potato Prints, they could have made a fresh start. But they're devoted to eachother, and to Him. There was no hope for them, but maybe before this moment, if things had been different, there could have been.

So, in summary, my personal interpretation of the significance is this piece by Jenny Holzer

and this quote by John Darnielle:

This is why people cry at the movies: because everybody’s doomed. No one in a movie can help themselves in any way. Their fate has already staked its claim on them from the moment they appear onscreen.

#this wasn't something i'd thought about before so i hope any of this makes sense lmao #and anyone feel free to add on to this if you have a different interpretation #asks #ry.txt #dan and phil

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immajustvibehere · 5 months

Text

Amidst a Crashing World (3/5)

Pairing: Arthur Morgan x fem!Reader

Summary: Arthur returns to your cabin after you presumed him dead. The time between your last meetings have lead Arthur to a realisation.

tags for this series: fluff, little bit of angst, no-tb-Arthur, literally your love redemption, maybe smut (but probably not), slow burn (but I mean how slow can a story really burn in five chapters?)

masterlist

Chapter 1, Chapter 2

6000 words

Sooner than expected, you heard of Arthur. Unfortunately, not because he sent you a note or stopped by again. As you rode into Annesburg three days after wishing him luck for the big score he had planned, the paper boys yelled through the town: "Saint Denis robbers still on the run! What happened to the gang of Dutch van der Linde? Find out in today's edition!"

Normally, you weren't too big on reading the newspaper, but this time…you hadn't never snatched it so quickly out of the boy's hand, leaving him to boast with the change you gave him. Hosea, dead. Lenny, dead. No account of any other names. You weren't sure who "a further gang member was arrested and awaits trial" meant. It only took a couple of days until everybody seemed to talk about it. Your main source of income being doing women's hair, you got a fair bit of gossip about the news.

Everything you heard from the ladies, took with a grain of salt. Either way, nobody ever mentioned Arthur by name. Your anxiety reached its peak when a rather well-off woman, not typically your demographic, had visited family in Saint Denis and brought an unsettling theory with her. Apparently, the most important members of the gang, including the leader, could have fled on a boat and drowned in the storm that was raging over the ocean the same night.

The "they have fled the country"-rumours were the most popular. Drowned in the ocean or not, the version varied based on who told you their theory. With every day you didn't hear the contrary and had no word from Arthur, you believed that you'd never see him again.

That was until one morning. You were working in your garden, busy with fixing the fence that had long stood neglected, when you saw a rider approach. Whether it was the hat or the horse you recognized first, you weren’t sure. But unmistakenly, the man on the horse that lazily trotted towards your cabin was Arthur.

You put your tools down and approached him, forcing yourself to walk calmly. The closer you got, the more unfamiliar he appeared. His beard had grown out, looking unkempt and way too long for what you were used to see him wear. Long strands of hair spilled out from under his hat. Arthur’s skin was darker than usual, even the unforgiving desert in the west hadn't left his skin as sunburned as it now appeared. Most of the red had settled into a golden-brown tan, particularly strong around the area where he cuffed his sleeves. For not seeing him for almost a month, this was quite a change.

A faint smile appeared on his lips when you reached him and walked next to his horse, leading it to your cabin.

"I thought I'd never see you again", you blurted out straight up.

Maybe a “Hello” or “Thanks for stopping by” would have been more appropriate, but the thought that had driven you insane the last three to four weeks just slipped out.

"I know. I'm sorry", Arthur jumped off his horse when you had reached your newly fixed gate. He looked at you, trying to take it all in. He had missed you; he had thought of you so much the last days and weeks, having you in front of him was a little overwhelming. But you looked like he remembered you. You weren’t wearing your fine clothes that you had worn when you caught him in your pond, but the worn jeans and shirt that had seen many fences painted and potted many plants looked good on you. It looked homely.

Arthur cleared his throat before he asked, "D'ya still cut hair?"

It was awkward...the ways he pronounced his question, the uncomfortable manner in which he scratched his way too long beard, seemingly unhappy with its new length.

Before you could answer, he added sarcastically: "Tried finding a barber on the Caribbean island but didn't came across someone I wanted to trust with scissors."

"Caribbean island?", you repeated questioningly, leading him into the cabin.

The tension between you felt peculiar. If tension were a tangible thing, you could have thrown a lasso and seemingly strangled it out of the air. But it wasn’t, so you and Arthur only struggled with finding your rhythm again.

"I came as soon as I could after returning...", Arthur explained apologizing, as if he had to rectify not visiting you sooner.

"Arthur. I thought you were dead", in front of your table, you stopped and looked directly at the man.

"'m afraid I have to disappoint", he chuckled, "Instead I'm here, asking ya for a cheap haircut because we lost...ten thousands in the sea."

"Ugh", you groaned, readying a chair for Arthur to sit on right at the table, "You sound so desperate, I might just give ya that haircut for free."

Arthur placed his jacket on a hinge next to the door and his hat on a free spot on the table. Again, it felt like he knew exactly where to place them, just as if he was coming home after a workday.

"Where d'ya want me, miss?", Arthur asked politely as if he had just entered a barber shop and there wasn't only one chair that looked prepared enough to serve as seat for his cut. You pointed at the chair a little absentmindedly, gathering your equipment and laying it out in the table in front of you.

"How short were you thinking?", you asked, walking around the seated man, ruffling his hair a little.

"Whatever you prefer", Arthur answered.

"What's that supposed to mean?", you asked, letting your finger scrape through his hair. His hair was wet at the roots, so you added surprisedly, "Did you just take a bath?"

"Might 've...", Arthur shrugged as if it was no big deal.

"You didn’t have to”, you reassured him, secretly amused by how endearing you found it.

"You wouldn't say that if you’d seen me before the bath. After three days in the Caribbean, killing half of the Pinkerton's agency and moving camp, you would have shot me on sight", Arthur joked, a bitter smile playing on his lips. Your answer was a soft chuckle.

After combing his hair, you repeated you question: "You're sure you don't want me to tell you how you want your hair done?"

"I trust ya", Arthur said.

"Mh, big mistake", you grinned. You caught Arthur's eye for a moment, and you could have sworn it was admiration in his expression. And trust, which honestly, was seldom for this man.

"I'll just cut it a little shorter than you had it when you first came to collect me", you said, waiting for his confirmation.

"...collect you and failed miserably at that", Arthur added.

"I thank the lord every day for that", you said jokingly. It was no laughing matter, though. You knew that as well as Arthur. The list of people the gang had lost in the last two months was long and you not rejoining was probably the only thing that had kept your name off that list.

You started doing Arthur's hair and one minute in, you decided to carefully pose the question of "What the hell happened the last couple weeks?". Arthur couldn't stop talking. He explained the plan of the bank robbery, explained when it went south. When Hosea was mentioned, he digressed a little. You too ended up sharing some anecdotes of the old man. You had loved him and felt a pang of guilt that you hadn't sent word to him that you were indeed fine. Hosea had been so kind to you when you expressed your wish to be on your own for a while, he had wished you the best and you had never even thought about sending a letter.

Then Arthur mentioned escape from Saint Denis. Your mouth went dry when Arthur recounted the storm, how he went overboard, nearly drowning and not knowing how lucky he was that he washed ashore on a beach. It was uncanny how some of the rumours you had heard mirrored the actual story.

Then came Guarma and everything that happened there. The return, the Pinkertons apparently following someone to Lagras and finally the move to Beaver's Hollow. They had been up there for a couple a couple of days now, and so much had already happened.

You listened, occasionally asked a question, but most of the time you were concentrating on not messing up the haircut. You had never heard Arthur talk that much before. Sober, that is. He can be quite a chatty drunk, but it seemed like he just wanted to get everything off his chest.

"How does that look?", you asked when you were done with his hair, holding a little mirror for Arthur to see.

His only response was a nob and a slight smile.

"Okay then", you spoke gently, "your beard's next."

The whole retelling of the last couple of weeks was what Arthur needed, but it killed his mood the same time. At least, that's what you though he was silent for. You cleared a spot on the table for you to sit on. It was way more comfortable sitting in front of Arthur while trimming his beard, but if you sat on a chair, you wouldn't have the height you needed.

You took a seat on the table in front of Arthur and noticed how his eyes immediately fixed on the ground.

"D'ya mind spreading your legs a little?", you asked. Despite the request confusing him a little, Arthur did as he was told and you put your on foot on his chair, so you wouldn't topple forward. Arthur tried his best to stifle the cough that worked its way up as he choked on his own saliva at this move.

"We're not going for a clean shave, are we?", you asked casually, trying to catch Arthur's eyes. He shrugged: "Whatever's easier for you."

You shook your head and began to trim his beard back to what you remembered he had the last time he visited you. Soon after you started, you noticed Arthur's cheeks getting warm and red. You were well aware that your cleavage was on his eye-level, probably the reason why he decided he was better off inspecting the floor. Meanwhile, you enjoyed gently tilting his head the way you needed it, finding no resistance from the man himself.

You talked only little, answering insignificant questions Arthur posed when the blade wasn't near his face, and he could actually move his mouth. You were almost done, only lining up his beard to give it an overall cleaner look, when Arthur said something out of the blue.

"Y'know, I been thinkin' about you. A lot," Arthur croaked, his throat dry all of a sudden.

"Mhm", you answered, not sure which direction that was supposed to go. You stopped shaving off the stubble on his neck when his Adam’s apple bobbed.

"Uh, I mean...", Arthur clears his throat, forcing you to stop the shave and look at him. Finally, his eyes found yours, "We're...uhm...friends, I hope." He forced a little chuckle that didn't sound genuine, especially under your curious gaze. You gave a quiet hum as sign of agreement.

"'s just that I...look, I understand if ya've found someone else. Hell, I took my sweet time and it wasn't fair how I treated you when you...", Arthur cleared his throat again, the words coming difficult to him, "when ya told me about yer feelings."

This was the point when your heartrate picked up and you felt your hands become sweatier. You had to put the blade down for a moment to wipe your hand on your shirt. Your mind was still caught on the line 'I understand if ya've found someone else'...like that had even been an option for you. For months you had tried to get over this man, then he came back waltzing into your life and you put your own ugly bounty poster on the wall as a reminder. And the you fixed the bedframe that he had fixed rather unsatisfyingly. You hadn't told him it broke the very same night he had “repaired” it. Nothing had changes the last year, you were pining as much for this man as ever...and yet, you didn't quite know how to react.

"I really like ya", he finally said, " I know well I don’t deserve it, but if ya wanted to give me another chance…"

"Morgan", you exhaled, "I got my boot between your balls and a blade at your throat...if you want to pull my leg I suggest you-"

"I mean it", and Arthur's gaze was so intense, this time it was you who struggled to watch him in the eye. You knew he wasn't lying. Hell, you hadn't really expected that he was just pulling your leg, you just said it to say something…to lighten up the mood that appeared so heavy again.

"Okay", you mumbled, barely able to disguise the tremor in your voice. Then you took the blade again, carefully turning Arthur's head upwards so you could better reach the hair you still needed to shave. There was this long and uncomfortable silence that neither of you wanted to break. You heard the birds outside, the blade scratching the skin and a heartbeat...if it was yours or Arthur's, you weren't quite sure.

Arthur thought that Guarma had been hell, but he found that your silence and okay was even more tortuous.

Finally, you were done. With a hairdressing brush you got rid of all the loose hair that decorated Arthur’s face. He gave you a slightly annoyed look as you tickled him behind his ears. Then you took the little towel that had prevented hair from falling into his shirt out in the garden to shake it out.

The moment you stepped into the cabin again, Arthur's eyes caught yours and they were demanding an answer.

"I've never stopped loving you", the words burned as they left your mouth. The towel was thrown over an empty chair. Saying the words out loud…it changed something. Because as long as you had only thought them, there was this slim chance that they weren’t true. But there was no backing-out now, no denying.

You continued: "But I can't...I won't rejoin the gang. I want to live here."

You said that because you knew that Arthur wouldn’t leave the gang for you, but you wouldn’t rejoin in either.

"Y/n...this thing is pretty much over", Arthur sighed. He was referring to the gang. He had alluded to it when he had recounted the happenings of the past weeks, especially breaking John out of jail and earning Dutch's disapproval. This was the first time he directly admitted it, "I want the Marstons safe...and the women...then it's done."

"Oh, so 'one more big score and then you can leave everything behind", you mimicked Dutch's voice. A tinge of animosity accompanied your words and this certainly wasn’t lost on Arthur. You couldn’t help but feel a bit unfairly placed in this situation.

"C'mere for a second", Arthur beckoned you, his eyes following every one of your movements until you stood in front of him, your hips brushing against the table. Arthur remained seated in his chair. Glancing at the man quickly, you congratulated yourself on having done a good job; his haircut looked sharp.

Then, suddenly, Arthur took your hand. It was such an unusual gesture, it alarmed you immediately. His hands were warm and rough, but not in an unpleasant way. Arthur held your hand lightly, as if he was afraid of hurting you.

"I promise this is the last time. In a week, we're going to hit a train with army pay. Wednesday evening. After that, I'm done", Arthur spoke earnestly.

"I can't-" believe you, you wanted to say, because you knew it had been the same story with Mary. You knew that once an outlaw means always and outlaw. Not even Arthur's word was enough to ensure that those bonds wouldn't bind him to his old life and to the gang.

"Don’t say nothing yet", Arthur interrupted calmly. He stood up and let your hand slide off his, as he walked to his satchel. He pulled out his journal and carefully put it next to you. With no hesitation, he opened and skimmed through it. You couldn't see most of the pages because he flipped through them so quickly.

"It ain't even half-way done", Arthur assessed, showing you the empty pages, "I'll leave that here 'n collect it in a week."

"What?", you questioned, frowning, "What if I decide to read it as a bedtime story?"

"'s nothing in there that yer not allowed to know", Arthur mumbled, "Contrary. Sometimes I think I'm much better expressing my feelings on paper. I've never been a good talker."

Silently, Arthur opened a page in his journal that had a little dog-ear. The left side was empty and only had smudges of pencil on it, on the right side there was this impressively detailed bounty poster. It had the layout of the bounty posters they have hanging all over town, obviously it wasn't printed, but hand drawn. You recognized your name, your 15-dollars-worth and then yourself, staring back at you. You hadn't imagined Arthur to be one to draw people, let alone portrait style. In the brush of his pencil you recognized that he might be more professed in sketching trees and animals, but it was a perfectly decent drawing of you. Hell, it was even flattering, compared to the atrocity they had on your real poster.

Arthur put the journal away, leaving it on top of a pile of books on your nightstand.

"I jus' need t'know if this is a place I'm allowed to return to", Arthur finally asked.

"Always", you replied without hesitation, your gaze still fixed on his journal. Is he trying in tempting you to read it? Because if that's the case, it was definitely working.

"So I won't be greeted with a gun in my face?", Arthur chuckled.

You sighed, taking a brush that stood abandoned in the corner of the room and started to swipe Arthur's hair out of the house. "If you're going to bring that up one more time, I swear I'll give you a reason to fear me", you quipped.

"Oh, I already fear you a great deal", Arthur said sarcastically.

You shot him an intense gaze.

"You staying for dinner?", you asked in between the sound of bristles scratching on wood.

Arthur shrugged, mumbling: "They won't miss me for another day..."

"Good. Then go hunt something", you asserted, gently shoving him outside by brushing against his boots until he took the hint.

"Yes ma'am...", Arthur mumbled, a hint of amusement in his voice. When you had successfully shoved him outside, you closed the door behind him, not without a bit of force. It left him slightly perplexed and wondering.

You had tried your best to hold your feelings together, but it had become a little much. Since Arthur's confession, your hands hadn't stopped shaking and you hastily put the brush aside, sitting down with your back against the door. There were so many feelings inside you that all needed to be addressed, but you struggled to even detangle them.

First and foremost: You had spent months pining for Arthur, only to be rejected in a cruel way and then again wasting months in trying to get over him. Just when you thought you were getting somewhere, he comes back into your life with a request that suggests anything but care for you. So, he leaves, and appears again. Then leaves again, presumed dead or out of country and now he's here again, asking for another chance as if you even had the power to reject him. You didn't know if Arthur would be able to make you happy. In a way, you feared it might be the opposite because there was still one score...one more score. He might die, or he might stay for another score, and another, and so on.

You stifled a sob. Scenarios played out in your mind, and they all converged into two possible outcomes, ending with Arthur dead or disappeared, disappointing you yet and yet again because one can't just stop being an outlaw. The 5000 on his head won't just disappear, presumed or actually dead - it didn't matter much.

"Son of a bitch", you hissed, mad at the situation.

You just wanted to be happy and find some closure for this surge of emotions that had held you hostage for months, if not years.

"Y/n?", Arthur's voice was so soft when he called out your name, you almost jumped in shock because you thought he had long gone hunting. But his voice came from right in front of the door.

"You okay?", he asked quietly.

"Yeah", you croaked, and it sounded anything but convincing.

"Ya sure?", he wanted you to confirm.

"I just need some time to think...", you whispered, trying hard not to sob.

"I'll stay close", you heard him state, then there were his steps leading away from the house.

For a while, you just sat on the floor. How to proceed?

By the time Arthur returned, the door to your cabin was wide open again, the sun shining inside. You had made your decision.

"I got us a rabbit", Arthur announced, "already skinned it. Figured it ain’t your kinda work."

You responded with an appreciative nod.

"It’s a real beauty”, Arthur grinned, a wisp of humour in his eyes, “or was, anyhow. I shot it with a small arrow so I reckon the meat-“ before Arthur could put the rabbit down on the table, you had sneaked in for a hug.

"Oh", Arthur stuttered, carefully placing the rabbit down. He lifted his bloody and dirty hands in the air to make sure not to get any dirt on you. Even though you wore clothes that had seen better days and apparently had been demoted to housework, he still didn’t want to get you dirty. Despite his desire to reciprocate the hug.

"Y/n…", he chuckled apologetically, "I need to get washed up."

At that moment, you suddenly looked up to him, your faces mere inches apart. He noticed your gaze drifting between his eyes and lips, then you leaned in, placing a gentle peck on his cheek.

The blush was immediate. Your hands instinctively found their way to his face and tenderly cupped his cheeks. They were just as warm as they had been when you cut his beard.

"I'm really glad you're here", you said, a smile playing on your lips.

"Yeah, I'm-" Arthur began, but you interrupted him with a proper kiss. It was a brief one, testing the waters if Arthur would be fine with that. As you pulled back slightly to assess his reaction, he didn’t hesitate a second, closing the distance between you once more. "I really …don't wanna get ya…dirty", Arthur mumbled between kisses. He could feel the corner of your lips curving into a smile each time you interrupted him. The man struggled to keep his dirty hands in the air.

The kisses quickly became more passionate, and when your hands left his cheeks, one to rest in the hollow between his shoulder and neck, while the other one boldly explored his chest region. It occasionally shifted to grab his arm and squeezing lightly.

Arthur mumbled your name warningly, twice. Then he couldn't help but put his hand in the small of your back, pushing you closer. His bloody hands would surely leave a mark on your clothes, but neither of you cared about that, as his hands became just as active as yours, sometimes cupping your cheek, at other times allowing himself to explore your body a little.

Arthur had just enough control to not place you on the rabbit, when he lifted you up on the table. When both of you became short of breath, Arthur rested his forehead against yours. Your legs had snaked around his, caging him in.

"Haven't done that in a long time", Arthur's voice was raspy as he tried to apologize for the somewhat sloppy make-out session.

"Me neither", you giggled and placed a final kiss on his cheek, "brushed your hair for nothing", you noted, looking up to Arthur's tousled hair. Your fault.

Arthur backed away a little, as much as your legs allowed him: "Christ." He had left signific signs of blood and dirt all over you.

"Mhh…", you hummed amusedly, "Ain't my fault you can't keep your hands to yourself."

"T'way I see it, darling…", Arthur smiled and tried to brush some dirt off your cheek with his thumb, "it's precisely your fault."

Arthur had headed to a keg outside to get cleaned. You decided to get cleaned up only after butchering the rabbit, as this would get your hands dirty again anyways. As the meat sizzled in the in the pan, you decided it was time to wash up as well. While you put the finishing touches on the dish, Arthur sat at the table, leisurely smoking a cigarette and observing you. He had asked if he could help you with anything, but you had declined, insisting that he had already done his part by hunting the rabbit. It was your turn prepare it.

When you plated the meal, it was really nothing too complicated, and yet, Arthur thought, for a free meal, it was perfect. You initiated a conversation; it was more light-hearted than the one you had when you cut his hair. The weightier themes seemed to have lifted from Arthur’s heart, and both of you sought distractions.

You told Arthur more about how you passed your days, gardening, drawing, riding into town. Really most of the money you earned the honest way, cutting hair and doing the odd delivery job for the grocery store.

It was frightening how easy it was to talk to Arthur. Two or three years ago, you would have never imagined, talking so freely to him. Though he'd always been kind, there was an air of unapproachability that had since crumbled completely after the heartfelt conversation you both shared.

The conversation where Arthur poured out his frustrations and regrets concerning Hosea's and Lenny's death, had brought a sense of liberation. It dawned on him how long it had been since he spoke so openly with anyone. Arthur leaned back into his chair. In front of him was his empty plate, opposite of the table, you sat within arm’s reach, chatting about an interesting traveller that came past your cabin a few months back. Arthur listened attentively, his eyes following the movements of your fingers skilfully rolling a cigarette.

Neither of you ran out of stories to tell the other. Arthur talked about people he had met on his travels, a clumsy photographer, a man obsessed with fast horses and racing.

You only realised how long you had been talking when the light in the cabin became sparse, the sun sinking closer to the horizon.

As the visibility waned, limited to the faint glow emitted by the burning tip of the cigarette, you finally rose to your feet to illuminate the cabin with the warm light of lanterns.

"I'll get my bedroll", Arthur announced, standing up with a grunt. He hadn't allowed himself to be this idle in a long time. All he had done today was sitting still for a haircut, killing one rabbit and then indulging in a lavish meal while engaging in easy conversation. His body had finally caught up with the stress of the last few weeks and he didn't know how to feel about how much his body ached. Despite the sun barely disappearing, Arthur would have been ready for bed. Funny, he thought, admitting one’s feeling for a girl could drain his strength that much.

At his announcement, Arthur noticed that you halted and were about to open your mouth as if to suggest something. But you didn't and let him venture outside.

When he took longer than anticipated, you followed him outside, only to find him leaning against the fence, his eyes in the sky. The sky was in this beautiful transition phase, going from hues of purple to a serene shade of blue with the first stars emerging in the east. You observed Arthur’s profile for a while, he didn't protest or showed any signs of being disturbed by your presence.

He was handsome. Something about his stature made you want to lean into him. But you didn't. Instead, you stood there, finding it hard to peel your eyes off him. Your lips quivered under the urge to say what you had thought earlier. After a big breath, you tried to say as casually as you managed: "I know my bed is too small for two people...but I was thinking if I put the mattress on the floor we could-"

"Y/N", Arthur interrupted you gently. He turned to look at you. Caringly, his hand found your shoulder, "It ain't right just yet."

Lying next to each other, cuddling, hugging, maybe stealing another kiss, you craved it badly. You finally had what you had desired for so long, you wanted it all at once. But Arthur knew that it would be unwise. He thought a lot about you, hell he did. And in his mind, he'd be too embarrassed to admit it of course, you had done way more than just kissed. But he knew it'd be wrong. He didn't want to fully commit just yet, and he didn't want to get your hopes up. It was genuine, when he said that the train robbery was the last score he wanted to do with the gang, but one train robbery is enough to get killed and he wouldn't dream about giving you this kind of pain. If he held it vague, if there was no sleeping close to each other, there was also no missing this proximity...if. Always if.

"Fine", you sucked in a little air, "but you take the bed then."

The two of you headed inside, Arthur with his bedroll clamped under his arm.

He shook his head: "It's your house, I can't jus'-"

"Exactly. It's my house, I can sleep in the bed every damn day. Besides, I don't figure you had a proper bed on Guarma, did you?", you teased.

"No, but-"

"Neither do you have one in camp so please- accept it", you looked up at Arthur rather desperately.

"Fine. You don't come complainin' to me if yer back hurts tomorrow", Arthur quipped.

"Oh, I'll definitely complain", you grinned. Arthur gave you his bedroll to spread in the corner where he had slept the last time. Arthur had sat down on the bed and watched you quietly as you readied your sleeping corner. When you glanced back at him, it was evident how weary he was, his eyes barely open, sitting up only out of politeness.

"You don't have to stay awake for me", you smiled, leaning against the table and studying the exhausted man. You noticed how tired he had become during your conversation. He had at least supressed three yawns.

"I jus'...haven't seen ya for so long, I don't want to waste that time with sleeping", Arthur explained. You found it cute he thought that way.

"You're not wasting anything", 'because we'll see each other again in a week, right?' you added in your mind. "I have this book I want to finish anyways, you just rest", you assured him.

You waited until he had settled in, exchanging a couple laughs about how unstable your bedframe was, and then you did the dishes. It didn't take you long, but Arthur was asleep when you had finished. He was turned towards the wall. On the nightstand was his journal. He had put it on top of the book you were currently reading. You took the book and settled on the bedroll.

You woke up to the sound of the bed creaking and blinked at Arthur, the first rays of the sun casting a warm glow on his frame. At some point during the night, he must have woken up and shed his clothes, as he now rested in the room clad only in his unionsuit.

"'m sorry, darlin'. I didn't want to wake ya", he apologized his raspy morning voice.

"It's okay", you yawned, forcing yourself to throw off your blanket to stand up, "I'll make some coffee."

In a couple big steps, Arthur was at your side: "You sleep some more, it's my turn for breakfast." Arthur squatted next to you and tugged you in before you could protest. You forced your tired eyes to stay on his face and not venture further down, pondering what the thin material might reveal.

When Arthur shot you a content smile, seeing you were up for no protest, a wave of panic washed over you.

"You won't just leave, right?", all of a sudden, you were wide awake.

"I won't", Arthur assured you.

"'cause if you do-", you started, a yawn interrupting your threat. Arthur chuckled at how cute and innocent you looked, happy that your yawn cut off before you could destroy that innocence with another gory threat.

"I'm way too scared of what you'd do", and then, to your surprise, he kissed your forehead. You only relaxed when Arthur had stood up again and indeed started to set up coffee. You were soon off to sleep again, only woken when the sizzling of fat in the pan woke you.

Arthur had made eggs. You ate in silence. A couple of times, Arthur tried to start a conversation, but you weren’t in the mood. He’d be gone in a couple of hours and you’d be left wondering if he’d ever return. Arthur knew that this was what was plaguing you, but he didn’t find the right angle to approach you.

You both did the dishes together, you helped Arthur by saddling his horse and then he had mounted it, looking down at you.

“Ya ain’t so happy about the prospect of me returning in a week, ‘s that it?”, Arthur joked.

“No”, you answered dryly, “I ain’t so happy about you leaving for a week.”

Arthur sighed and steered his horse closer to the fence: “Climb up here, I gotta tell ya something.”

Rather unwillingly, you climbed on one of the horizontal planks that kept your fence together. Arthur offered his hand for support and as an excuse to pull you a little closer. He kissed you, gently, on your lips.

“I promised I’ll be back, didn’t I?”, Arthur mumbled. He wasn’t convinced, and neither were you when you whispered a dire “Yeah..”

You didn’t like the good-bye kiss. In fact, you wished he hadn’t done that. It hurt even more, seeing him disappear between the trees in the distance. For a while, you stood there helplessly, wondering what to do next. Minutes passed before you ventured into your cabin, distracting yourself with some cleaning before your eyes fell on Arthur’s journal. You noticed a piece of paper sticking out. Without thinking, you opened the journal and the loose paper floated to the ground. You didn’t even bother picking it up, your eyes caught the first word written on top of the page. It was your name, written in Arthur’s familiar handwriting.

“Hell no”, you kicked the paper under the bed before you could read any further. You weren’t up for some heartfelt “Good-bye, in case I die I want you to know this”-letter. Frustration and anger bubbled within you as you scrambled into your good jeans and crammed your revolver into its back pocket. With a swift motion, you picked up your hunting rifle, mounted your horse and started to follow Arthur’s track.

-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x-x--x-x-x-x-x-x-x

next chapter: here

Shoutout to @little-honeypie who basically wrote the confession scene. I wouldn't have ever finished this if it weren't for them <3

taglist: @photo1030

taglist for this series: @pinkiemme @loveheartarthur @twola @shiokitsune @missredemption @kakashiislut @thewalkingdead1463 @yyiikes @renwai @walk-in-sunshine @rdrlady @ivybeeloved @trinswhimsys @reddedmiller @chiefqueefsosa @sauvignon-velvet @mrsarthurmorgan @readingcoco @pookiesnatcher @gloomdoomraccoon

#arthur morgan x reader #arthur morgan fanfiction #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 #arthur morgan x female reader #red dead redemption community #rdr2 fanfiction #rdr #rdr fanfiction

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sunshine7queen · 7 months

Text

The Halloween Party

Synopsis: Halloween has arrived where everybody can dress up as their favorite creature and characters. And today you struggled on thinking what costume to wear this year. With the help of your friends, you finally thought of one that will knock everyone out: to dress as the King of Curses himself. What will his reaction would be?

Pairing: Yuji/Sukuna x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 2.1k

Content Warnings: 18+, full nelson, smut, breeding kink, Sukuna calls her Mistress, rough sex, reader being a dom queen, creampie, soft Sukuna in the end, a bonus ending included!

A/N: Hello everyone! This is the first time I've posted something like fanfic related but this idea has been stuck to my head in the holiday has started. I hope you all enjoy this ^v^ Also, sorry if the smut's not too perfect, it's been a while.

Today was Halloween, the one year where everyone celebrates the spooky holiday by dressing up in costumes and giving out candy.

Speaking of costumes, you were having trouble thinking what to dress as. And the reason is that because Gojo decided to plan out a Halloween party at Jujutsu Tech and of course, he even added a contest for the best Halloween costume.

Every year, you always come up with the scariest costumes that blow everyone away and even scare them too. So right now, you’re hanging out with Nobara and Maki at the mall in the search for costumes. Perhaps this will help you out for inspiration for your costume.

“Any luck?” Nobara asks you, wondering if anything sparks an idea in your head.

You looked around at the outfits, masks, and wigs but nothing catches your attention. You shake your head, “Nope.”

“Well, there has to be something for you.”

Maki then decides to pitch in to help you, “Have you ever thought about dressing as a vampire?”

“I’ve already done that last year, don’t get me wrong, I love my vampire costume but I want to do something different.”

“Okay then, how about a witch?”

“No, I’ve done that too. And also, that’s what Nobara is dressing for the party.”

“It’s okay girl! We can both match but it’s your decision and I respect that.”

“Thanks Nobara.” You sigh; thinking what to dress as is making you feel exhausted and your friends took notice of this.

“Hey how about we take a break?” Maki suggests, “Let’s get something to eat and we can go look again before the party starts.”

“Sure. We can use a break, my head’s wiped out.” You laugh as they join in as you three make your way to the food court.

Taking a break was a good idea after all as you sip your favorite beverage. “Alright, we still have time but we can talk ideas here in the meantime.”

“Well,” You lean your head back, “I want my costume to be scary this year, something that will scare their pants off.”

Nobara hums as she thinks of an idea. “Something scary huh? I think it would have to be that’ll top off a werewolf, vampire, ghoul or zombie.”

“What could be frightening than them?” Maki asks.

She's got a point there; what could be more frighting and scarier than the classic monsters or legends?

It was at that moment when a smile crept on your face.

Nobara begins to chuckle, every time you make that look; an idea strikes in your head. “Oh! I recognize that look anywhere! What’s your big idea?”

You let out a dark chuckle through your lips, Nobara and Maki weren’t too sure if they should be scared or not by your behavior. Motioning your hands at them to lean closer, they scoot their seats next to you. “Listen, here. This is my idea…”

Whispering to them about your idea, the girls started to grin as you explain your costume idea. They have a feeling that this costume will definitely knock everyone’s socks out.

The three of you returned back to Jujutsu Tech, you told Nobara and Maki to get ready for their costumes so they can help you with yours. Five minutes later, Nobara and Maki came into your dorm. Nobara had on a cute witch outfit with a stuffed black cat in her right arm and holding a broom to her left. As for Maki, she’s a vampire with her hair down, slicking her front bangs back to make it more classic.

“Wow! You guys look amazing!” You gush over their costumes.

Nobara blushes at your compliment, “Aw thank you! Now, let’s get you ready for yours!”

“Let’s do it!” You cheered.

Hours later, it was finally finished. Nobara and Maki couldn’t help but stare at you in awe.

“So ladies, what do you think?” You curl your fingers, twirling them around your wig.

“Wow, I…” Nobara looks at you up and down. “I’m literally taken back right now. You look like a literal queen.”

“I usually don’t compliment that much, but you got my exception.” Maki smirks, showing her fake vampire fangs.

“Shall we get started?”

Meanwhile, outside of the courtyard, the entire place was decorated with lights in a form of pumpkins and ghosts, cutout paper of mini ghosts, a table filled with delicious food and sweet treats, and plenty of games to enjoy.

Everyone else is here, even the students of the Kyoto Sister school are here as well. Yuji is with his friend Megumi, along with Toge and Panda. Yuji decided to be Spiderman, he got his mask off right before the contest starts. Megumi didn’t want to dress up but was forced by Gojo who he eventually put him as a werewolf.

“I think you look great, Fushiguro!” Yuji gave him a thumbs up with a smile on his face.

Megumi’s brow twitches, he wasn’t enjoying this as much. “You know sensei had me wear this.” He crossed his arms.

“Yeah but, you gotta get into the spirit for this party. They’re already in the vibe of it.” He points at Toge and Panda. Apparently, Toge is dressed as Joker from Persona 5 for some reason but Panda told them that he got into it and wanted to try out.

For Panda, he wanted to go as a teddy bear but couldn’t find a suitable outfit in time, so instead he put a bear hat with ears along with a red ribbon tied around his neck.

“Hey, how’s everyone enjoying the party?” Gojo walks up to them, he’s dressed as Jack Frost with a blue hoodie with white linings to make them look like ice, brown pants and white shoes. He even brought a staff to match up.

“I’m having a great time and you look fantastic, sensei!” Yuji replied.

Gojo smugly smirks as he chuckles, “I always look good in everything.”

“You look like a clown that’s what.” Gojo stares at the eye and mouth that appeared on Yuji’s cheek. Sukuna never understands the meaning of the holiday at all, he thinks that it’s lame to see everyone wearing abnormal outfits.

“At least I’m not stuck in a body as a vessel. Got anything to say to that?” He tilts his head as he still smirks. Sukuna grunts in frustration, but before he could make a comeback at Gojo, his mouth gapes with no words coming out.

“What is it? Cat got your tongue?” Gojo waited for a response but there was nothing but silence. “What’s the matter with him?”

Yuji was about to reply but he looks over his sensei’s shoulder as he got the same reaction as Sukuna.

“Yuji, you too?” Gojo turns around to see what was making his student to be baffled, and as soon as he turns his back around, he starts to chuckle. “Well, I’ll be damned, so that’s why.”

You enter the courtyard with your friends by your side. You got on a white kimono with a blue obi tied around your waist. Tattoos painted on your face to make it look like his, you even added the extra eyes as well. As for the finishing touch, you put a long pink wig you previously wore from one of your cosplays and red eye contacts to match the entire look.

Smirking at them, revealing your fangs. “Hello, brats.”

Everyone stares at you either in fear or in awe. You head towards Yuji, who’s blushing on how beautiful you look, even though you’re dressed as the guy who bullies him everyday, you really pulled it off.

You drag your press-on black nail, gently on his cheek where Sukuna is. “Shocked, my king? You look speechless.” Tracing his lips with your thumb; he felt shivers crawling up his back. His eye explore everywhere on your body, you got every single one of his markings correct.

You softly chuckled at his reaction, this is the one you were looking forward to. “Until then, see you later, tiger.” You kiss his lips as you let go. He quickly reverts back to his domain, leaving him a blushing mess.

“Are you all surprised?” They all nod their heads, never in their lives they would’ve seen you to be dressed as the King of Curses.

“Why yes, your Highness.” Gojo bows to you. Now he knows who will be the true winner of the contest. “And how about we leave these two lovebirds alone.” Gojo leads everyone so they can enjoy the rest of the evening while you and Yuji can have alone time.

“I was not expecting this at all.” He rubs the back of his head, giving you a closed eye smile.

“I bet and I’m taking a guess that he wasn’t expecting this either.” You nod your head right at the scar under his eye.

“Yeah, none of us did either. You look really gorgeous.” He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling your body closer, having your hands travel up to his chest.

You blush, “Thank you and I think you look really handsome, my hero.” You cup his cheek, leaning into his face, giving him a kiss as he kisses back.

And with that, you won the contest with your costume and as to celebrate this moment, you and Yuji dragged each other to your dorm where he’s sitting on a chair, holding your waist as you ride on his cock.

You made him remove his Spiderman suit, only showing off his firm muscles. You rode him as if your life depended on it. “Baby, I- I think he wants to be out now!” He stammers, continuing his thrusts in your drenched pussy.

You moan softly at his cock hitting every spot. “It’s okay, my love. You can let him out.” He shuts his eyes as tattoos begin to form on his body. And the scars under his eyes, have opened to reveal his ruby eyes.

“What inspired you to dress as me, darling?”

“Well, I had to think which costume to go as and what would be a better idea than to dress as one of the most feared being of the Heian Era?”

Sukuna couldn’t help but smile, he felt his heart beat through his tatted chest. “This is why I fallen in love with you.” He grabs the shoulders of your kimono, pulling it down slowly, revealing your bare breasts. “No bra? Were you waiting for little old me to see this?”

“And what if I did?” You press your breasts on his pecs. Both of you are feeling turned on right now with this sexual atmosphere. He wanted to claim you so badly to ram his cock and fill you with his seed, making you his forever.

“What are you waiting for?” You snap him out of his thoughts, dragging your nails down on his muscles. “Do you want to please your Mistress?” You nip his ear lobe then giving it a lick.

Whatever it is you’re doing, is really making him feral and having his cock inside you, throbbing erratically. Letting out a feral growl, he got up from his seat, holding you in his arms to have your legs wrap around his waist, pressed you against the wall as he gave you harsh thrusts. Moans escaped from your lips, hands gripping on his chiseled back. “Do you love this, Mistress?” He grits his teeth.

“Very much! Don’t stop pleasing your Queen!” The sounds of skin clapping and moans echoing across the dorm. He looks down where a white ring is coated around his cock, he throws his head back, grunting and stares at you again with hazy eyes. “Fuck! Me and our brat are enjoying seeing you in pleasure. Telling me how you look like a goddess and he’s right.” Sweat drips from his forehead to his muscles, glistening by the light of the moon. “I love you two so much.” You cry out, tears run down your face. “We both love you two.” Finally, you both reach to each other’s climax, as he seals your lips with his, drowning every moan and caressing your thighs.

He pulls you away from the wall, slowly removing his cock from your pussy, his cum leaks out as he pushes his seed back into you with his fingers. Sukuna carries you to your bed and pulls down the covers. He gently puts you down as he joins you. He wraps your waist with his arm, dragging his body to you.

“Are you hurt?” Sure he may be rough during sex but he does get carried away at times and doesn’t like seeing you in pain.

“Not at all.” You snuggle closer, staring him with loving eyes.

“You’ve made your Mistress very happy.”

“That I did, my Queen.” He purred.

You two kiss each other again as sleep took over your bodies, cuddling each other’s arms.

Bonus:

The day after, Yuji woke up with markings and bite marks on his body and sees you cuddling him in his arms. He then decides not to wake you up and enjoy the moment with his girl.

A/N: I hope you all enjoy the story! ^v^ Don't forget to comment, reblog and like! <3<3<3

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