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sinofwriting · 11 days

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I ❤️ MILFS - Max Verstappen

Words: 9,747 Summary: Max wasn’t too sure who the woman was that was always with Logan, but he was sure that he wanted to get to know her. Note(s): Sargeant Reader, Age Gap, Older!Reader, Logan and Oscar are both 20 during the 2023 season, not 22. The 2023 driver standings are different (I am giving Logan the season he should have had). Reader has the nickname Pan (short for momma panther). Logan is sweetheart, Max is head over heels in love. I’m gonna be honest I never thought this fic would get written or finished. I got the idea for it back in December but only started writing it on March 16th. And it would have never happened without @burningcupcakefire & @pucksandpower. Thank you both so much for all your help. (also if anyone wants to see more of Max and Pan, let me know)

Taglist | Masterlist | Emergency Dental Fund

Max remembers the announcement of Oscar’s arrival to F1, the drama and hilarity of it. Sometimes he sees the kids name and has to stop himself from laughing. No nineteen-year-old had any business being that funny.

Max doesn’t remember much of Logan’s announcement to F1. Only that he was young as well, being the first American in forever, and Williams' quick admission that they hadn’t wanted to sign, had wanted to wait another year.

He wishes now that he had paid more attention.

There’s a woman standing in the William’s garage, on Logan’s side. She’s clearly there for him, with the similar pass that his trainer has around her neck, and the way her eyes intently follow Logan’s movements around the garage as he talks to the mechanics and engineers.

She also happens to be the most beautiful woman Max has ever seen.

—

She can’t help but clutch at Benny’s arm the whole race, terror gripping her along with pride.

Benny chuckles when the race comes to an end, Logan doing his cooldown lap and she finally lets go. “And just think you’ve got over twenty more races of this.” Her nose wrinkle and a hand goes over her heart that’s thudding. “Please, Benny.” He chuckles again but pats her shoulder. “You’ve got this.” “Not gonna tell me it gets easier?” He snorts. “No. This is far worse than F2 or F3 and we still were both scared watching him out there. We’ll never know a day of peace now.”

She sighs, watching the screens as it shows the top three getting interviewed and in the background you can see some of the drivers getting weighed. “He’s going to be sore and in pain.” It makes something clench inside her, the knowledge that Logan would be in pain. It was part of the job, the aches and the bruises, but it didn’t make it any easier for her to know. “I’ve already got everything set up as soon as he’s back and debriefs are done.”

Her eyes catch on the screen showing where all the drivers placed and tears prick her eyes and she shakes her head. “Twelfth in his first grand prix. I can’t believe it.”

The garage is filled with chatter as the team celebrates getting their first points of the season and their rookie driver performing better than they expected. The way they don’t even try to whisper it makes her jaw twitch. She was grateful that Williams was giving Logan his dream, but she didn’t like how they were going about it. Quickly and publicly stating that they didn’t want to sign Logan yet, wanted to wait a year. And now this.

A light nudge to her ribs makes her unclench her jaw and she gives Benny a grateful smile.

Both of their attention is quickly drawn however to the two Williams drivers entering the garage, the space filling with cheers.

She smiles as Logan grins at the team, basking in the smiles they have on their faces for him and Alex, the pats on the back he’s getting. The grin turns to a beam when he spots Benny and her and he quickly bounces over to them.

A laugh leaves her at the way Benny pulls him into a bear hug, lifting him off his feet a little. “Proud of you, kid.” He murmurs. She can’t hear what Logan says, but he’s put down and it’s her turn.

She wants to bundle him up in her arms, hold him and not let go, but doesn’t want to embarrass him in front of his team, so she raises a hand and pushes his hair out of his face. “You did amazing, baby.” He smiles at her, all bright and shiny eyes and then he’s wrapping his arms around her, hugging her tight and she’s quick to return it, rubbing his back. “You did so good, Logan. So good. I’m so proud.” She tells him again, pressing a kiss to his sweaty head. “Thank you, momma.” He tells her, hugging her tight for another moment before letting her go. She smiles up at him and god, that makes her heart ache. Her son, her baby, taller than her somehow. She woke up some days and still wasn’t sure where the time had gone and how he was taller than her shoulders. “Go shower and debrief and then Benny and me will take care of you, yeah? And I’ll get your favorite ordered to the hotel, ready as soon as you get there.” He beams at her again, darting forward to press a quick to her cheek before starting to rush away. “Best mom ever!” He calls over his shoulder and she laughs.

—

Y/N Sargeant will never forget the first time she held her son, only then at nine years old, he had been her cousin.

Logan was small, wrinkly, pink skin, and full of small cries. She could remember staring at him with furrowed eyebrows, trying to understand how he could be what her baby dolls were made to be like. She remembers her mama having her sit on the couch after asking her if she wanted to hold him and how she had quickly nodded, hoping that maybe holding him would somehow make him look better.

She remembers the sudden nerves that built in her stomach as her mama started to hand him to her. Remembers being scared that she would drop him, remembers thinking how stupid it would be if he was still weird to look at like this.

And she remembers finally holding that and it disappearing. His small cries, no more, his wriggling calmed down, and his wrinkles no longer looked weird but cute. She remembers holding him for the first time and feeling unconditional love for the first time in her life.

—

She’s twelve when she realizes that her uncle and aunt don’t like Logan much. It didn’t make sense to her then, still doesn’t know. Because they liked Dalton just fine, but not Logan.

She remembers asking her dad about it. Asking him why they didn’t love Logan, but loved Dalton and worse, she remembers the pained look in his eyes as he realizes that his child picked up on what he and his wife had as well.

It’s the first hard adult conversation she has with her parents and it’s fitting that it’s about Logan, as they sit her down and talk to her about how not all parents love their kids, and how sometimes that includes them only loving one child and not the other.

—

She remembers clearly the first time Logan calls her mom.

It’s her fourteenth birthday and she’s got the four-year-old in her lap as she sits in a rocking chair, reading her English essay aloud for him. Logan’s eyes are closed, head resting on her chest, over her heart, and his little fingers of his one hand are curled in her shirt right by his head.

She wants to sit there forever, reading to him as she rocks back and forth. But she wants another slice of cake before Martha puts it away and Logan needs to sleep in his bed where he can stretch out fully and drool on his pillowcases and not her shirt that Martha will surely tut over but then smile fondly when she sees Logan doing it all over again.

Setting the essay down on her dresser, she runs her now free fingers through his blond hair. “C’mon Logan, time for bed.” He grumbles, fingers tightening on her shirt and she can feel it being pulled slightly. “You can put on your new race car jammies, cuddle with Ello.” He shakes his head, squirming a bit in her lap as he tries to shove himself closer. “Stay with you.” “Oh, baby.” She whispers, pressing a kiss to his forehead. “Y’know I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.” His head shakes again and she has to bite her lip as his head hits her collarbone. “Want cuddles, momma.” Her heart thuds painfully in her chest at the name he called her, tears pricking her eyes. “Okay, baby. Let's get you in jammies, grab Ello, and you can stay with me tonight.”

—

She’s only been eighteen for ten hours when she asks her father for the near impossible.

“I want custody of Logan. I want to adopt him. And I need your help to make that happen.” He stares at her, no expression on his face, not even shock. “He’s,” She pauses, jaw twitching and tears springing to her eyes. “He wants to do karting, just like Dalton. And he’s good at it. I’ve taken him. They told him no. They haven’t bought him clothes in two years. They don’t know a single thing about his school, his grades, his teachers. He hasn’t called David dad since he was six and he hasn’t called Madelyn mom since he was four.” Her hands are formed into fists, nails digging into her palms as she speaks. “I have money, I can provide for him. I’ve got my shares of the company now and I’ve got my inheritance from Grandma Talls. But I know that a judge won’t sign off without some influence.” “Madelyn and Daniel?” She leans forward in her seat, a spark of hope filling her. “I already talked to them, they’ll do it.” One of his hands comes up to rub at his mouth, sighing. Then it drops to open up one of his desk drawers and he’s pulling out a bunch of papers, dropping them on the desk in front of her.

“I figured this was gonna happen and I knew after you talked to them and they called me. They signed away their rights three hours ago. Michael and Lily are waiting outside to come in so you can sign the papers.” Tears slipped from her eyes, joy wrapping itself around her entire being from his words, the fact that he called their family lawyer to be on standby, that he and her mother were so supportive. “Thank you. Thank you so much.” He smiles at her. “I couldn’t say no to you. Not when it comes to Logan. I’m way too young to have a grandkid, let alone one that’s eight, but I made my peace with that years ago.” “Thank you.”

—

Max watches the free practice session coverage intently as they focus on the Williams garage, nose wrinkling when they focus on Logan’s trainer, Benny and then James Vowles. Could it really be possible that they never once caught a shot of her? He starts to get a sinking feeling in his stomach that he's gonna have to go on Twitter when the camera moves and suddenly she’s there and he’s scrambling for the tv remote, pressing the pause button just before the camera switches to an overhead shot of the Bahrain track.

His heart skips a beat as he gets his first good luck at her. Her pretty eyes and smile. His eyes then travel down, wanting to know her name and his heart drops.

Y/N Sargeant, Mother of Logan Sargeant.

Fuck.

—

“Momma Panther!” Oscar greets to the confusion of other drivers as Logan and a woman enter the room.

Lando’s eyebrows are raised as he watches Oscar stand. Watching as his teammate claps Logan on the back, before giving him an actual hug. Before he then hugs the woman as well, whispering something to her that makes her laugh.

Pulling away from her, Oscar grins when her hand comes up to pat his cheek for a second. “Thank you for the invite, Os.” “Of course.” He sends a fond look to Logan, who's standing awkwardly by the table. “Y’know Logan and you are always welcome.” She makes a humming noise. “C’mon, let me introduce you to everyone.”

Turning around, he smirks at the table. “Everyone, Logan.” Charles lets out a laugh, as the others chuckle. He gestures to her, “This is Momma Panther or Pan.” “Y/N or Pan.” She corrects, playfully shaking her finger at Oscar. “I only let the F2 boys call me Momma Pan.” He sighs. “Okay, this is Y/N. Logan’s mom.”

Lando coughs, water going down the wrong pipe. Fernando’s eyes are wide as he looks at her. Charles, George, and Alex are all nodding. Max has a weird expression on his face and Carlos looks dumbfounded.

“She,” Carlos points at her. “Is his,” he points at Logan. “Mother?” Logan moves away from the table to stand by his mom, easily melting into her side at all the attention. The action makes Oscar smile, all too used to the easy affection between the mother and son. “I got pretty lucky right?” She shakes her head. “I’m just happy you weren’t a difficult child.” Logan both blushes and preens at the same time. Carlos shakes his head, disbelief still clear.

“Please, sit.” George says after a moment. “We haven’t ordered yet.”

The seasoned drivers and her watch amused as both Oscar and Logan usher her to sit first. Oscar easily then lets Logan sit next before sitting beside the American. The two of them sharing a grin after.

It makes her shake her head as she turns her attention to the menu, tuning out the sound of conversation picking back up.

The gentle sound of a throat clearing makes her glance to her left.

The current two time world champion smiles a bit awkwardly at her. “Have you been here before?” She shakes her head, turning her head a bit to look at him better. “No. To Australia of course, for Logan’s races and to visit Oscar once, but not here.” He nods and she can’t help but notice the way he swallows harshly. “We started coming here in 2021, it’s good food. Good drinks.” She laughs, “good gin and tonic?” He flushes a little, but laughs. “Yes. Very good. Heavy on the gin.” She nods, “I think I’ll have one of those then.”

Her eyes drift back to the menu, not even wincing at the prices next to the dishes. This was nearly cheap compared to where she had been forced to eat growing up.

“Momma, can we,” “Yes.” She answers before Logan finishes, already knowing what he’s asking. “Also you two, no hard liquor. We have plans tomorrow.” She continues, still looking at the menu.

They wouldn’t get drunk from a few drinks, but she had a feeling that Lando would try to instigate something again with Oscar, making the poor kid so drunk he could barely walk, again. And she didn’t mind people thinking that she was overbearing with Logan and even Oscar. The boys knew that if they really wanted to do something they could, even if she said otherwise. It was one of the nice things about being an adult.

Logan wrinkles his nose, glancing at the drinks part of the menu, before grinning. “They have it.” Oscar glances at what he’s pointing at, shaking his head. “You and your goddamn obsession.” “We come here like once a year.” Logan defends. “And no other country sells it.”

It’s not until after the server leaves, all of their orders taken, that conversation starts again.

“So, Mrs. Sargeant,” Lando starts. “Just Y/N or even Pan.” She sends a fond look to Oscar who had made that nickname stick. “And I’m not married.” She says, amused. “Ah.” “Not married.” Fernando shakes his head. “Now that doesn’t sound right.” She looks at him amused. “Don’t believe in premarital sex?” She teases. The older driver laughs and so do the others. “No. Just hard to believe that you aren’t married. You are a very gorgeous woman.” “Thank you.”

“So,” Lando starts again, giving Max a weird look seeing how his friend is gripping his glass of water. “Will you be coming to all the races?” She nods. “Yes, I have since Logan started his career. Haven’t missed one.” Logan shakes his head, grinning at her. “Nope, not one.” “Your work allows you to do that?” Her lips press together for a second to try and hide her smile at the gentle but obvious fishing they are doing. “I have shares in some companies and a very generous inheritance. So, no true, real work.” “You do some work for Grandpa when we’re in the states.” “I organize his desk for him, which he then messes up as soon as he sits back down at it.”

“You do not mind the constant travel? It is quite tiring.” Charles asks, curious. “No. And once I got Logan in karting, I promised him that I’d make it to all of his races. Maybe in a few years, I’ll stop going to all of them, but I am part of his team as well.” “Manager?” “God, no.” She shakes her head at Carlos’ assumption. “Cook slash nutritionist. Benny, his trainer is amazing, also doubles at being a physiotherapist for Logan, but he doesn’t know how to cook to save his life. So I make their meals.” “Mine as well.” Alex pipes in. “They’re truly amazing, by the way.” “Of course.” “Can you make mine again?” Oscar asks, leaning over Logan a bit to look at her. “I’ve missed having them.” “Sure.” She laughs. “Get me your new sheets before the next race, yeah?” “Done.”

—

Max watches from the corner of his eyes as she takes her first sip of her gin and tonic. Her brows raise a bit when the drink hits her tongue and he has to force his eyes up, to not focus in on her lips, to think about them and what they’d feel like on, he shakes his head. Forcing the thoughts, the ideas away.

“Very heavy on the gin.” She whispers, turning a bit to look at him. He rubs his hands against his jeans. “Do you like it?” “It’s nice.” She smiles. Relief fills him. “Good.”

He continues to look at her, wanting to tear his eyes away but being unable to. She was simply lovely. And getting this closer look at her, he can’t believe that she’s a mother, or at least a mother to a twenty-year-old. It didn’t seem possible. She looked barely older than him. Not at least thirty-five. She was probably more like Fernando’s age as well and he glances at the fellow two world champion, more disbelief filling him. Because how could the two be close in age at all?

—

Logan sighs as he collapses face first onto Oscar’s bed. Laying there for a solid minute before groaning and turning his head.

“Dinner was nice.” Oscar hums and he can feel the bed dip beside him. “You seemed a bit more relaxed.” “No media, and you and Pan were there. A bit more relaxed.” Logan scoffs. “Yeah, because you were so tense with media before.” As he speaks, he reaches out to lay a hand on Oscar’s thigh, giving the muscle a squeeze. “It’s nuts, isn’t it? I mean we all got told that the media was so much more, so different, but…” He trails off, shaking his head. “Yeah.” Oscar sighs and then he’s laying beside Logan, the American luckily moving his hand off and away from the other’s thigh before he lies on it.

“Y’know I have no personality, apparently.” Logan snorts, eyes opening when he hadn’t even realized he had closed him. The Australian driver also has his head turned so they’re looking at each other. “What? Have they never seen a Prema video?” He shrugs as best as he can. “I’d take that over my apparent frat boyness.” “You? A frat boy?” Oscar laughs. Logan sighs as he thinks a bit more about it, the mood turning a bit serious. “I just hope momma hasn’t seen it.” “What happened?” “She’s just worried. Thinks I haven’t noticed, but she’s wondering if she did a good job with me, done enough for me. And she’s given me everything y’know. I can’t imagine what I’d be like with them as my parents.” Oscar moves a bit closer, just a few inches between their faces now. “You’d still be amazing, still great. Maybe a frat boy.” The American rolls his eyes, but he’s smiling.

“I think Fernando has a thing for her. For Pan.” He clarifies. “What?” “I mean, just during the dinner y’know, he kept looking at her. And him calling her gorgeous.” “Well, he’d be dumb and blind to not notice that.” Logan scoffs, rolling onto his back and turning his head to the side, keeping his eyes on Oscar. “I’m being serious.” The younger laughs, poking him lightly. “I think Alonso has a thing for her.” Logan’s face scrunches up in disgust. “Dude, no. That’s gross. Momma isn’t even thirty and Fernando’s like forty-three. And isn’t he dating that journalist?” Oscar’s brows press together. “What journalist?” “The one that gave Fred shit.” “I thought she died?” The two look at each other, both baffled.

Logan thinks again of the journalist he’s seen around Fernando and the one that all of the Prema drivers, former and at the time current, had avoided or given shit statements too. They did look a bit different now that he really thought about it. Fernando’s journalist slash girlfriend didn’t have a fucking complex.

“Different journo.” Logan mutters. He then blinks, “wait, she died?” “Mate, you didn’t hear about that?” “No!” “She was supposed to be at Spa, remember. And we all were relieved when she wasn’t there. She died, car crash or something, I can’t remember.” “How do I not remember this?” Oscar shrugs as best as he can while laying down. “I don’t know.”

It’s silent for a moment, “you don’t think,” “No.” Oscar shakes his head, but he doesn’t sound too sure. “I mean, yeah no.” “Right.” He looks up at the ceiling.

“Okay, so Fernando is out of the running.” Logan groans, “Os, no.” “Look he clearly has eyes, but if he’s dating someone he’s out. He wasn’t the only one looking.” “Oscar, please, it’s my mom.” “She’s like my mom too, which is why we have to talk about this.” Oscar insists, wriggling closer to Logan. Their sides completely pressed together and when Logan turns his head to look at the other, their noses nearly brush. He looks at Oscar’s face, all earnest and caring and sighs. “Fine. Charles was looking, but he only dates one type, so safe from him.” “Lando was looking.” Logan snorts, “I thought this was for potential dates, not another kid.” He laughs, their noses brushing together from the movement. “Okay, no Lando. Max.” “He kind of looked weird when you introduced her.” He frowns. “I saw that too.” “But he also got all blushy when they talked.”

“The drivers do know, I mean Alex knows that she didn’t like birth you, right?” Logan’s frown deepens. “Of course. I mean, it’s not super well known, but it’s a little hard to believe that she naturally had a kid twenty years ago.” “Thought so.” Oscar then chuckles. “Imagine, them thinking that she did, though. Just thinking she’s got some sort of insane skin care routine.”

—

“How in the hell does she look like that with a twenty-year-old kid?” “I know right?” Alex says, looking at Carlos. “It’s insane.” Charles pokes at his own cheek. “I think I need to ask her for advice, what products she uses. I want to age like her.” “We all want to age like her.” George agrees. “What are you saying?” Fernando frowns. A few of them share a look, but Charles and Max share a different one. “Mate, you’ve got wrinkles and all these lines.” Max says. “I mean those are natural, but look at her. The skincare helps.” Fernando frowns, “Lines?” Charles touches at his own lines, “see lines. From smiling, laughing, frowning. All good things, very nice. Just not uh,” his brows furrow drawing a blank. Lando snorts at his struggle. “You just want to help your skin. Keep it healthy.” The older driver makes a humming noise, considering.

—

Her breath is caught in her throat, eyes wide as she watches the screen. Her heart feels like it is beating in double time. She wants to look away, doesn’t want to watch in case something horrible happens, but she can’t. Because Logan just overtook both Magnussen and Ocon in the same lap. Logan is in 9th. Logan is in a point scoring position with only five laps of the race left. Logan might score his first formula 1 points at his home race, at his actual home race, at his first ever home race.

Her hands are shaking, fingers locked together as she presses them against her mouth, trying to breathe, praying that Logan won’t fall back out of the points.

She doesn’t even notice that he’s lessened that gap to Pierre until suddenly he’s overtaken the other French driver, just three laps later. “Oh my god.” “Fuck.” “Benny,” she whispers, and one of her hands is dropping so she can clutch at the older man. “Benny, I think,” “He’s gonna do it.”

And sure enough he does it. Logan holds his place in front of Pierre and finishes in 8th.

“Yes!” The whole garage is cheering and she’s wrapping her arms around Benny, laughing when the trainer lifts her. “He did it! He did it!” She cheers. The garage quiets though as Gaetan starts to speak on the radio.

“Logan, you are on your cooldown lap.” “Got it. Where’s Alex?” She winces at the question, one of her hands grips at Benny’s shoulder as he sets her back down, the other holding onto her headphones that miraculously didn’t get thrown off her head or disconnected when celebrating. “Alex is P14, P14.” It’s quiet for a moment. “Okay, I’m sorry we didn’t get any points today, next race is ours right? The car felt great.” Both of her hands fly up to her mouth. “Logan.” Gaetan’s voice is full of disbelief and laughter. “Mate, you finished P8. You got us points. You got your first points.” She can see him react to the news, the car jerking underneath him for a second, before he wrangles it back under control. “What? What do you mean?” “You finished in P8. Clean race, finished ahead of both Alpines and Magnussen.” “Holy fuck.” The garage fills with laughter at his reaction and tears start to build in her eyes. “You guys,” his voice breaks. “Thank you guys so much. This was you guys, the car felt great, really.” She watches as James hops on the radio. “This was you as well, Logan. Amazing drive today.” “Thank you, James. Thank you so much for this.”

His mechanics, Benny and her, quickly go over to where the cars are parking, watching as Logan slots it into place. He’s a little shaky as he gets out of the car and he’s about to dart towards them but someone from the FIA, is ushering him to the scale.

His reluctance is clear even with his helmet on, but he goes. Letting them take his weight and as soon as it’s written down, he’s stepping off and away, fumbling with his gloves and then his helmet.

There’s an awed grin on his face, tears in his eyes, and seeing it makes the tears that have built in her own fall.

His gloves and helmet tumble to the ground as his mechanics and Benny surround him, celebrating his points.

Logan laughs when they finally let them go and his eyes light up when he sees her and he darts to her and she easily welcomes him into her arms.

“I’m so proud of you.” She tells him, squeezing his sweaty body close before running a hand through his hair. “You did amazing.” “I did it, momma.” His voice is weak and she can feel tears hit the skin of her neck where his head is buried. “You did it.”

—

“Logan did amazing, it was a good drive.” She blinks in surprise at the voice, turning in her barstool to look. “Max?” He smiles at her, cheeks flushed. “He did really well.” “He did.” She agrees before patting the stool next to her. His smile widens as he takes the seat. “I didn’t realize that Red Bull was in the same hotel.” Maybe she should have since she had spotted a few Red Bull polos, but she figured it was fan gear. “I think Aston is here as well. You aren’t celebrating with Logan?” She shakes her head. “We already celebrated. Him, Oscar, and a bunch of his friends here are throwing a party. I wasn’t really interested in watching them all get wasted, so this,” she gestures to the hotel bar, “is me having a drink to celebrate before going up to my room and ordering some room service.” “Could I join you?” His cheeks redden at the words, at the way her eyebrows raise. “Not like that. But for food? I’ve never actually eaten anywhere in Miami that wasn’t catering.” She stares at him for a moment before nodding. “Yeah. And I have the perfect place to take you.”

—

“Did I actually score points yesterday?” “You did.” “Sweet.” “Very. How’s the head?” Logan shrugs, “I mean, I drank a lot, but like I’m just dehydrated.” She shakes her head, “That will change in a few years.” “Not gonna tell me to not drink underage?” He teases, bending down to press a kiss to her cheek before grabbing her glass of juice and draining it. She snorts. “We’re in Europe most of the time and I gave you your first drink. I don’t think I have a leg to stand on. And you were celebrating.” “True.”

He sits across from her, refilling the glass and taking another drink from it before setting it down and starting to help himself to her pancakes, which she just pushes closer to him. “How was your night? You could have joined us. We wouldn’t of minded.” “I’m your mom, Logan.” She laughs. “I think the me going to your friend's parties ship sailed a few years ago.” “Yeah, but you're awesome. We like having you around.” “I know.” She smiles. “I wasn’t in the mood to watch all of you get wasted.” “Fair.” he says around a bite of pancake, which she sends him a look for and he quickly swallows the food. Giving her a smile that says sorry.

“So, how was your night?” “It was good.” She tells him, spearing a piece of fruit with her other fork. “I came back to the hotel, had a drink, and then got dinner with Max.” His brows press together. “Max?” “Verstappen.” She clarifies. “Red Bull is staying here as well, he saw me at the hotel bar and asked if he could join me for some food.”

“You went on a date?” Her eyes narrow at him. “It wasn't a date.” “You went on a date.” He scrambles for his phone. “Oscar is never gonna believe it.” “I go on dates.” “Momma, you’ve gone on like five dates. And two of those were before you turned eighteen.” She scowls at him. “It wasn’t a date. We just got dinner.” She insists. “Uh huh.” He says, clearly not believing her. “Did he pay?” “Yes.” “Pull your chair out, help you with your coat, anything like that?” Her mind flashes back to Max helping her get out of his car, his insistence on opening doors for her. “Yeah, but that doesn’t mean,” Logan continues. “Did he walk you to your hotel room? Say that he had a good time and he’d like to do it again?” “Oh.” Logan grins at her, smug, as he finishes typing out a text to Oscar. “You went on a date last night.” “I went on a date last night.” And she doesn’t mention the fact that a new number resides in her phone.

—

“Logan!” He stops at the sound of his name, turning to look behind him, where Max Verstappen is nearly jogging to catch up with him. “Max.” He greets, when the older driver is next to him, nerves filling him at the eyes of said driver on him, along with how a few other drivers are also looking at the pair, shock and surprise clear on their faces. “Hey.” Max grins. “How are you feeling about the track?” He looks at the older driver in confusion. They had just left the drivers briefing, why was he asking him this? Alex had already spoken about how the team was feeling about Monaco. “The car won’t be the best here, but we said that in Miami, so we’re hoping to repeat that here. Alex has a good chance at ending in a point scoring position.” He reiterates what he's been told and what he’s been telling the press. “But how are you feeling about it?” Logan stares at the Dutchman, eyes flickering around trying to see if cameras are there, if his momma is there, but there isn’t anyone. The other drivers are already gone, so are the FIA people. It’s just him and Max. “Y’know you don’t have to talk to me because you went out with my mom.” He expects relief, like that one dick Jase, and really who puts that on a birth certificate, but Max just frowns. “I know, I don’t have to.” Logan swallows around the lump in his throat, “right.” Turning around, he starts to walk, somehow knowing that the other driver will join him. “It’s a tricky track, it’s Monaco. I was here last year and I barely got in the points.” “P10 and P9.” He throws the driver a look, because that was too much to know, but Max is just looking at him, encouraging him to continue. “The car isn’t suited for it. I mean it wasn’t for Miami, but this is different. And I’m still not managing my tyres correctly, so even if I did manage to gain positions, I’d get called in to pit and lose them.” Max huffs out a laugh. “You are a rookie in a Williams, it’s impressive that you’ve already gotten points. If you could manage your tyres, when sometimes even I struggle, well I’d put you in Checo’s seat.” “Not yours?” He laughs again, “No. I’m a bit better at it than Checo.” Logan couldn’t really deny that.

“Do you want some advice? On the tyres?” Logan quickly nods. “I’ll take anything I can get.” “Don’t fight the car too much on the turns. If you need to get it to turn properly or without going on the brakes too soon, fight it. But when you don’t, let the car be stable, keep it fluid. When you come out of the corner, press harder. It might feel like you’ll go into the wall, but you won’t.” “And if I go into the wall?” Max laughs, clapping him on the shoulder. “I think you're a better driver than that mate.”

—

“How are you doing that in the turns?” Logan looks up from his notebook, where he’d been scribbling a bunch of random words. Looking at the screen, he watches his own onboard. He thinks about saying that it was Max that told, but no one at Williams liked hearing about Red Bull, especially with Alex in the room. “Just something I thought I’d try.” “Well, it was good, continue doing it. We may have ended up out of the points, but we got close.” Logan nods. Even with his five-second penalty, he had still kept fourteenth, and Alex ended up in twelfth. “Will do.”

—

Max had thought about her in his apartment a lot, an embarrassing amount. He had also pictured it very differently. A nice dinner, wine, even though a majority of it made his nose wrinkle, perhaps some kissing on his couch as a movie plays that they both don’t care about.

He hadn’t expected lunch, with juice that he’s trying to figure out how he’s never had it when he’s lived in Monaco for so many years, and a somewhat serious conversation, though maybe he has been expecting that one or rather anticipating it.

“I like you, Max.” He flushes, “I like you too.” He really did, even though his mother was going to have a heart attack when she found out how much older Pan was than him. “And I want to continue doing this.” She gestures between them with her free hand that isn’t being held in his. “So,” sensing that there’s something she wants to say. “I’m a mom.” He blinks at her words, panic starting to fill him. He thought he’d made that clear that he knew that, understood that. He always made sure to ask about Logan. He even had Logan’s number now after talking to him about how he felt about the Monaco track. “I know.” “Logan is important to me.” Oh, god, did Logan not like him? “The most important thing to me. And if we're going to continue to do this, I just need you to know that. He’s always going to be my first priority.” “Of course.” Relief fills him, his heart slows from its frantic beating. “I wouldn’t expect anything less.” She stares at him, trying to gauge how truthful he’s being before nodding. “Okay.”

“Did you think that I didn’t know that?” She shakes her head immediately. “No, it’s just. I don’t really do this.” She laughs. “Dating, relationships. Logan pointed that out to me, so I don’t really know how this goes and I just had to make it clear, put it on the table now.” “I don’t really do this either.” He hesitates to ask his next question, but does. “Logan’s father. What was your relationship with him like?” Her face screws up in disgust. “Ew.” He laughs, not expecting that reply or that word to sum up a relationship. But fair enough.

“I mean the idea of a relationship between me and Logan’s father is gross. Logan’s,” she pauses, seeming to settle on a different word. “Birth parents are my aunt and uncle.” “His what?” He could have sworn she said birth parents, but that couldn’t be right. “His birth parents.” She looks at him, concerned. “I adopted Logan when I turned eighteen. Did you think I gave birth to him?” “No.” He says, shaking head and clearing his throat. “Of course not.” She stares at him, lips pressed together. He sighs, slumping in his seat, eyes closing. “I may or may not have thought you were just a really, really young looking forty-something year old woman.” She immediately bursts into laughter and his eyes fly open at the sound. “You thought?” “The graphic for the race footage says you are his mother, I did not think otherwise. I just thought you looked great for your age.” He defends, a little embarrassed, but delighted by the expression on her face and her laughter that is still filling his ears. “I am his mother, just adopted.” “Not that either of you see it that way.” “No.” She shakes her head, laughing one last time before calming down.

“No. Logan’s mine, he’s been mine practically since he was born. It just wasn’t seen that way legally until I was eighteen and custody got signed over to me.” “Of course.” He then flashes her smile, “So can I ask how old you are?” She laughs, nodding. “Yes, Max. I think just this once it’s better to ask a lady her age than assume it.” “How old are you?” “I’m twenty-nine.” He looks at her with new eyes, the age making much more sense. “I would’ve said twenty-five.” “Really? I think you would’ve said forty-something.” “How was I to know?” He throws his free hand in the air at the tease, his other still holding hers.

—

“Hi, baby.” She greets when Logan stumbles out of his room, practically still asleep, as he drops onto the couch. “Momma.” He whines, resting his head on her lap and turning his face to press it into her stomach, trying to block out the sun. Her fingers brush through his hair as she forces her body to stay relaxed. It was always a fight when he did this.

She hated that her body didn’t bear any signs of being pregnant before, no stretch marks around her belly. She hated that she hadn’t actually gotten to carry Logan no matter how impractical it was, unless of course she was as old as Max had thought she was. She smiles at the memory of how flustered Max had looked when he realized her actual age.

He mumbles something and she turns his face away from her stomach. “What?” “How was your date last night?” Her smile widens. “It was good.” “Yeah?” She nods. “Did you see Jimmy and Sassy?” “No.” She runs her hand over his forehead, knowing that he’s thinking of Sooty. “We should talk though after you’ve had some breakfast.” “About what?” “Breakfast first.”

“What do we need to talk about?” Logan asks nearly thirty minutes later, his fruit bowl all gone and his coffee on its way to be there as well. She swallows, hands flexing. “Max.” “What about Max?” She sighs. “Well, baby, him and I talked about becoming serious last night. But that’s not gonna happen until I know how you feel.” “You know, I’m okay with it.” “I know you're okay with me dating, but this is a bit more complicated. Max is on the grid with you and we’re talking about a relationship.” Logan eyes widen a bit at the word relationship. “I mean, how does Max feel about it? About being with someone who has a kid on the grid?”

He asks knowing it will give him time to figure out how to tell her how he feels and because he wants to know, he kind of wants Max to be okay with it. He likes Max, and not just as a driver. The older driver is kind and funny, he also looks at his mom like she’s the sun, he makes her happy and that’s enough to put him in Logan’s good books. His mom deserves the best and he thinks from what little he’s seen, from how much more happy his mom has been (and god that was weird, because it wasn’t even like she wasn’t happy before) that Max might be the best for her. And Max now every time he sees Logan is always stopping to talk to him even if it’s just for a second to say a quick hi.

“Max is good with it. He knows that you're my number one and that’s never going to change.” Logan flushes at the words. “He also likes you, thinks you're a good kid.” She lets out an amused huff as the word kid leaves her mouth. It was odd to hear Max describe Logan that way, with only five years between them. But at the same time she knew it came from being practically a veteran in the sport. Max was coming up on ten years in Formula 1 despite his young age. He flushes even more. “Really?” “Yeah.” She smiles. “He always asks about you, it’s really sweet. And he knows to that if you aren’t comfortable with this or need more time then that’s what will happen.” “I am an adult.” “You are.” She was sadly well aware of that fact. “But you are my baby, my kid. I couldn’t be in a relationship with someone if you didn’t like them or if it made you uncomfortable.” He nods. “I’m okay with it. Max makes you happy, he’s nice.” “Yeah?” “Yeah.”

—

She lets out a giggle as arms wrap around her from behind, lips pressing against her cheek. “Hi.” “Hi.” Another kiss is pressed to her cheek. “Can I help?” She glances down at what she’s finishing up. “No. You could set the table, though?” “Done.” A kiss is pressed to her temple and then the blanket of heat that covered her back is gone. “What cabinet?” “First one entering the kitchen on the left.” She says, turning her head a bit to watch as Max pulls the dishes out.

Her mouth goes a little dry as she watches him. His t-shirt is tight around his biceps and chest. His skin is a little tanned after their date a few days ago on a friend's yacht. She forces her eyes to not look at his hands, instead trailing them up to his strong shoulders and neck and then to his face. Max, she thinks as he starts to put the plates on the table, is unfairly attractive. Before he can catch her staring, she checks on the final thing on the stove. “Perfectly done.” She mumbles with a smile.

The sound of the front door opening makes her smile grow wider as she grabs a pot holder. “Am I late?” “Just on time.” She tells Logan as he steps into the kitchen. “Can I,” She stops him before he can continue. “No, go wash up.” “Alright.” He bends a little to press a kiss to her cheek before turning on his heel, offering a wave to Max. “Hi.” “Hi, Logan.”

Picking up the pan, she shakes her head as Max goes to try and take it from her. “Logan and you are both going to get on too well.” “Why’s that?” He asks, a twinkle in his eye. “You both don’t like when I lift anything.” “What’s the point of having a son or a boyfriend, then?” Logan says, clapping Max on the shoulder as he comes back. Max grins at the younger, delighted as he claps him back. “Exactly. We feel a bit neglected.” She rolls her eyes, shaking her head, though a smile is stretching across her lips.

—

Max watches amused as the mother and son argue.

“Mom, it would be for two races, two, that’s it.” “One race, really.” Max chimes in, smiling when she glares at him. “Spa is nice, but Zandvoort is really what I consider my home race.” “See, it would be one race. Max wants you in his garage.” Logan says, looking at the other driver, begging for him to help but at the last sentence Max shakes his head. “I never said that. Well, I would like to see Pan in my garage, not for the whole weekend, or even a day. She’s part of your team.” Logan looks at him, bewildered. “But, it’s your home race.” He shrugs. “I’d like for her to stop by, you as well. I already have it cleared with the team. Staying for even a whole session though just doesn’t make any sense. I don’t need her on my side of the garage to know that she’s supporting me, wanting me to do well, not when you are on the grid.” “Are you sure?” Max smiles at Logan, because yes he was sure. Did he want her there, supporting him? Maybe even dressed in something with his number? Of course. But, he liked seeing her in Logan’s garage. Supporting him, wearing his merch, being a mom. “I’m more than sure.”

“Besides,” she says, drawing both of their attention. “Max and I haven’t gone public yet. Or really told anyone yet.”

—

“Well, this is a bit of an odd one.” Laura says as they stop in front of the Red Bull garage. The cameraman focuses on what she’s looking at. “Both Logan Sargeant and his mother, better known as Pan from Formula 2 fans, are in the Red Bull garage, currently talking with our current championship leader Max Verstappen, his engineer GP, and Daniel Ricciardo.” “Shall I see if I can steal one of them away?” Will asks, smiling at the camera as he holds the F1 TV microphone loosely. “Please.” She gestures.

Will steps towards the garage smiling at the small group hovering just inside. “Could I steal one of you for a quick minute?” The five exchange a look and Will stops himself from rolling his eyes at the way they all look annoyed at the idea, but Logan nods. “Sure.” “Thank you.”

He watches as Logan says something quietly to them, getting nods from them all. His brow furrows when Max squeezes his shoulder before the younger driver gives his mom a quick hug, making him shake his head. Logan Sargeant was an absolute mommy’s boy and it was embarrassing as all hell to see. He couldn’t imagine being twenty and hugging his mom in public, let alone all those videos and photos of him reaching for her hand.

Will ignored the part of him that did think it was sweet and felt bad for the kid. He couldn’t look all sappy while filming, especially not when in front of the Red Bull garage.

“Hi everyone.” Logan greets, taking the third mic from the newest crew member. “Hello, Logan. How are you feeling about this weekend?” He smiles at Laura. “I’m feeling okay, I’ve raced here before, obviously not in an F1 car, but I do have some experience with this track.” “And you and your mum’s visit to the Red Bull garage, should we expect an announcement of you switching teams?” She teases. “No.” He laughs. “No, uh, just visiting for personal reasons. Saying hello to Daniel, wishing Max a good home race.” “I mean, I’m not sure, he needs it.” Will jokes, gaining a few laughs. “So, no business to be done at Red Bull? Just saying a hello and wishing a good race to a fellow driver.” “Yeah,” he pauses, looking back at the garage where it’s just Max and his mom standing now watching him with smiles on their faces. It’s only that he continues when his mom gives a brief nod, one barely able to be seen by the camera. “And I wasn’t just wishing a fellow driver good luck.” “Oh?” Logan grins, looking pleased with himself. “I was wishing my new dad good luck.”

—

“Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” Max freezes at her words, hand still on the doorknob from just stepping into the room. “Hi, schat.” “Carlos Sainz is a cunt.” She repeats. His brain is scrambling because what exactly had Carlos done but also why was it so attractive to her say the word cunt. It had to be the accent, he decided quickly, still trying to figure out the Carlos thing. “And why is Carlos a cunt?” He finally asks, releasing the door knob and stepping further into the room.

She’s on her laptop, rapidly typing something, and he can feel anger radiating off her.

“That bullshit he spewed, blaming Oscar’s inexperience.” She scoffs, pausing her typing as she shakes her head. “It was an incident, a racing incident, something he knows a lot about. There was no inexperience fault.” “Oscar’s okay?” He already knows that he is, but knows it's good to ask. “He’s good. He knows that it's a racing incident.” Max winces. Wonders for a second if he should warn Carlos to keep his mouth shut, but shrugs. It wasn’t his fault that Carlos was getting in trouble because he couldn’t watch his mouth or correctly look at footage. “Can I help?” She sighs, hitting close on whatever she was writing in. “No.” She then closes her laptop, turning to face him, with a smile. “Hi. Congrats on the win.” “Thank you.” He bends to kiss her. “You okay?” “Yeah, just,” she waves her hand at her laptop, “stuff.” “Anything I can help with?” She starts to shake her head no as he sits on the edge of the bed, but she stops. “Actually, could I get your insight on something? Not just as a driver, but as someone who lives and breathes racing, loves data, really knows how the sport works.” “Of course. What’s going on?”

Another sigh leaves her, hand coming up to rub at her mouth for a second before it drops. “Why would a team not resign a driver?” His eyebrows furrow, because she knows the reasons, but he answers. “Not performing well, they want out of the team or sport, sponsorship issues.” “The driver wants to stay in the sport and the team.” Her lips turn downwards a bit at the word team. “And the driver brought new sponsorships to the team.” “They have to be not performing well.” “They’re a rookie in a back marker team.” “They have to be really performing badly.” Max says, trying to think of who in Formula 2 or 3 she’s talking about. “They already have six points and have placed ahead of their experienced teammate three times.” His mind is scrambling again, trying to find a reason, because what? “How many does his teammate have?” “Nine.” “I have no idea. Not unless there’s conflict within the team.” She shakes her head. “Is there potentially a more experienced driver for the spot?” She shakes her head. “They’re looking at another rookie or maybe someone who stepped away from the series for a year, though they’d rather take a rookie than him.” “I don’t have an answer for you. It doesn’t make sense to me.” She nods, expression falling and she’s rubbing at her face.

“What’s going on?” He asks, standing up just to crouch down in front of her, taking her hands in his. “The driver’s Logan.” “What?” “Williams isn’t sure they want to offer Logan another year.” Max stares at her. “How?” “I don’t know.” She shrugs, laughing. “There’s talks of them signing whoever wins this F2 championship or even the runner-up depending on who it is. Logan’s making too many mistakes.” “He’s costing them too much money.” Max fills in the blank, shaking his head. “That’s ridiculous. Don’t take a rookie if you can’t afford it. You are supposed to account for the worse. And he’s doing well. It’s not his fault that they built a shit car.” “I don’t know what to do.” She admits, voice just a whisper, and his heart clenches painfully at the sound of it, at the tears in her eyes. “This is his dream. I don't know what to do if that gets taken away from him.” “It won’t. We’ll figure something out.” He tells her, pressing a kiss to her forehead.

—

“I think I’m spoiled.” Max says, watching as she gets ready for bed. A faint feeling of arousal pooling his gut as she pulls on one of his shirts. He absentmindedly wonders if it would be weird to wear it tomorrow to the track, the scent of her lotion clinging to it. “Why’s that, honey?” He smiles, cheeks a bit pink, and that arousal builds a bit more at the pet name, at the way she shifts in the vanity chair to loosen some tension in her back. “You come to every race, you see me win, you celebrate them, you got to see me win my third championship today.” Those words feel weird off his tongue, today, but totally sober to celebrate. He wants desperately for tomorrow to come, for the race to finish so they can celebrate, him, her, Logan, the team. “I guess you are a bit spoiled.” He gasps, clutching at his heart, making her giggle. “That’s okay though.” She says, getting up and moving onto the bed, straddling him. “I think I like you spoiled.” He groans as she dips her head, pressing a kiss to the flutter of his pulse. “Schat.” It's a warning to stop and a plea for more. “I know.” She kisses the spot a bit firmer. “Celebrations will have to wait just a day longer.” She then rolls off him, his arm immediately lifting so she can press against his side.

“It’s cruel to win with a sprint race.” She snorts, “A sprint race never stopped us before.” “It’s cruel to win with a sprint race in Qatar.” He amends. “Very true.”

He sighs, staring at the ceiling as he calms down, luckily the feeling of her fingers tapping along his stomach not making it harder. “How’s Logan feeling?” Max asks, remembering how pale he looked when they got dinner. She sighs, moving somehow closer. “Not great. No fever, but his stomach is still a bit upset.” He winces. “He gonna be okay tomorrow?” “I hope so. The team knows that he’s sick, they’ll make the right choice.” “I hope so.” He echoes, wishing that Logan felt better, hoping that he feels better by the time the race starts.

—

“We are confident in him.” Max scoffs, tossing his phone aside. “I know.” “Logan still wanting to do his new routine.” She nods, lips pursed. He shakes his head. “He did good.” It wasn’t the rookie season that Oscar had, but it couldn’t be. Oscar got lucky enough to get a seat in a near top team, while Logan got one with a back of the grid team that was sometimes midfield.

Logan scoring ten points, getting himself to sixteenth in the standings, tied with Bottas in the standings, was very good for a rookie. It was a shame that Williams seemed to think he could’ve and should have done better. At least, Max thinks, the 2025 grid was wide open for possibilities.

“Are him and Oscar still joining us?” She throws him a look. “Us?” “You.” He amends, knowing that despite him joining her, he’d get caught up in Redline and different things. He was just happy she didn’t mind that. “Only for a few days and then they both are off to Australia.” “Will Logan be joining us for Florida?” “Yes. My mom has been asking the next time she’s going to see her only grandchild.” Max laughs at the eye roll. “So, Belgium first, then Monaco,” “You go to Milton for a day after.” He nods, “then Greece, Florida, Monaco.” “Not bad for the first few weeks of winter break.” “Not bad at all.” He agrees, wrapping his arms around her waist, chest pressed against her back.

It’s quiet between the couple as Max sways them.

“Max.” “Yes?” “Your mom, she does know that I’m not in my forties right? Or thirties?” She figured that the woman did, but she also had only briefly gotten to meet her at the one race, and there had been an odd expression on her face when Max introduced her as his girlfriend. He freezes. “Max.” “I knew I forgot something.”

@ohtous @cixrosie @darleneslane @fanboyluvr @teti-menchon0604 @eugene-emt-roe @quackquackhun @rewmuslupin @copper-boom @stopeatread @crashingwavesofeuphoria @jointhehunt67 @namgification @asphalstead @poppyflower-22 @racingheartsposts @gemofthenight @peachiicherries @lpab @hiireadstuff @iloveyou3000morgan @boiohboii @bibliosaurous @skepvids @elliegrey2803

#f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 x reader #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen x reader #I ❤️ MILFS verse #I was on something when I came up with this idea and the name of this fic

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yandere-daydreams · 1 month

Text

file #4: the body mod fic.

part of the FREAK SHIT MARCH evidence packet.

pairing: yandere!wriothesley x reader (genshin).

length: 3.1k.

warnings: non/con touching + groping, nonconsensual piecing, dubiously consensual tattoos, permanent body modification, intimidation, needles, obsessive behavior, and unbalanced power dynamics.

“Just one?”

The question had been hushed, meek, directed more towards your lap than the man sitting across from you. The warden – Wriothesley, you chided yourself, biting the inside of your cheek and attempting to remember what he’d asked you to call him, Wriothesley – broke into a wry smile, but nodded, leaning back in his armchair. “Just one,” he reassured. “And you’ll taken care of until your release date.”

You didn’t respond, but he must’ve seen the way you paled at the suggestion. “Having second thoughts?”

“No, it’s just—” You grit your teeth. Your eyes flitted up momentarily, but fell back to your legs just as quickly. “I… I’ve never really liked needles, I guess.”

You could see his eyes light up, his grin broadening as he tried to stifle his laughter. You scowled, but couldn’t blame him. He was used to dealing with hardened criminals, the scum of Teyvat, thieves and spies and murderers, and here you were – on the verge of fainting because he asked you to get a tattoo. “I promise, you don’t have anything to worry about.” At least he was trying to sound comforting, even if it was clearly a half-hearted effort. “I’ll make sure you’re in good hands.”

And he had, in a way.

You just wished he would’ve mentioned that those hands would be his own.

Calloused fingertips dug into your bicep as a scarred palm pressed into your skin, keeping one of your arms loosely secured against the mattress of the cot while the other was pinned between the bedframe and his chest (the placement unintentional, or so you hoped). You’d been shaking when he brought out that terrible machine – a vial of dark ink trapped inside of a cage of copper and steel; a single, silver needle protruding out of one end and a leather grip wrapped around the other – but it’d only taken an hour for fear to fade into boredom, another for boredom to drag on into a rotting, discolored sort of exhaustion. For as much as you’d been dreading it, there was more pressure than pain. It was repetitive, if anything – a monotonous pierce, stab, pierce, stab that you could only try your best not to focus on. You could already feel an ache settling below the skin of your shoulder, already knew that you wouldn’t be able to lift your arm for days, but you tried not to—

His needle stabbed into the thin skin over your shoulder blade, and you couldn’t stop yourself – letting out a low hiss as you flinched into the cot’s thin mattress. You expected Wriothesley to laugh, to drag a damp cloth over the affected area and mutter something like ‘bear with me’ or ‘my bad, love, my bad’ like he had a dozen times before, but instead, there was a muffled click as he switched off his awful machine, a dull clatter as he dropped it onto a bedside table already crowded with bottles of disinfectant and the nurse’s bizarre tools. “We’ll stop here. It’ll take another session, but I think you’ve been through enough for one day. For a virgin, especially.”

You were only half-listening; the phantom of his machine still buzzing in your ears. “Are you sure?” You asked, trying to hide how desperate you were not to spend another night in the empty infirmary with a man you barely knew. “It’s not that bad, I can go for another—”

“I’m sure. Sit up, I’ll let you have a look.”

You pursed your lips, but didn’t protest. You could see how Wriothesley had gotten into such an authoritative position. The way he spoke, his constant undertone of stern stability – it was hard to so much as imagine talking back to him, let alone breaking one of the rules that’d been meticulously and painstakingly drilled into you when you’d arrived at the Fortress of Meropide a little under a week ago. Still, you’d been terrified – too scared to so much as speak to another prisoner for the first two days. You weren’t dangerous. You couldn’t hold your own in a fight, or protect yourself if someone else, someone stronger decided they had a problem with you. You could barely even call yourself a criminal, but apparently, the Iudex hadn’t agreed. You’d been on your way to the fortress before he could finish reading out your sentence, and now, you were trapped in the darkest, deepest place in all of Fontaine, alone and so, so painfully vulnerable. If it hadn’t been for Wriothesley, you probably would’ve requested to forgo your imprisonment entirely and be sent straight to the gallows.

A hand on your shoulder, a softened lull to his voice. “You can sit up, can’t you? I’ll have to call Sigewinne, if you’re in that much pain.”

“Right, I— uh, sorry,” You stammered as you shook your head and pushed yourself up, careful to keep the thick, overly starched cot sheet pressed to your chest. The infirmary was empty, the door locked and sealed, and while Wriothesley hadn’t seemed to think much of ordering you to take off your shirt and lay face-down, you couldn’t bring yourself to brush off the stark, damp chill that came with any amount of exposure in the fortress so easily. You guessed that, after enough time, you’d get used to it. You guessed that, when you did, the thought of not being so cold so constantly wouldn’t make you feel so sick. “I… I think I’m still getting used to this,” you went on, with a strained smile. “Still a little out of it, I guess.”

“That’s alright, love. We all take a few months to find a way to cope.” When you glanced over your shoulder, there was already a mirror in his hand – a compact, small enough to fit in his palm. You had to crane your neck to see it, but Wriothesley knew how to strike the right angle, and soon enough, the sprawling, spiraling pattern stretching from the lower curve of your shoulder blade to the ball of your shoulder came into view. It took you a moment to make out the pattern, but relief accompanied the delayed realization. Lumidouce bells, all blossoming and linked together by a single vine. He’d finished the linework, and there was a smattering of color in the bottom corner – only, oh, he’d gotten the shade wrong. Rather than deep violet, he’d used a light blue, more similar to ice than the water nearly everything in Fontaine stole its palette from. Judging by his expression, though, all beaming pride and low-brewing mirth, he hadn’t caught the mistake. “What do you think? Don’t keep me in suspense, now.”

“It’s… nice,” you said, the sentiment sincere despite your hesitance. And then, laughing, “I was—Well, it feels a little silly now, but I was terrified you’d leave me with, I don’t know, a sea monster or a giant wolf or something.”

“Maybe next time. Not a wolf, though - you don’t strike me as that vicious.” You bit your tongue, forcing yourself not to tell him there wouldn’t be a next time and opting to focus on the soreness starting to knot in your shoulder, instead. You swung your legs over the side of the cot, moving towards where you’d left your shirt draped over an unopened crate, but Wriothesley caught your wrist, tugging you gently back onto the thin mattress. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked, his playfulness suddenly more irritating than it had been, a few second ago. “I don’t think we’re finished, yet.”

Not for the first time, your smile wavered. “I… I thought we only agreed to one, sir.”

“Of course.” He squeezed your wrist teasingly. “One of each.”

Something heavy and spiked dropped into the pit of your stomach. This time, you couldn’t help the way your expression dropped. “Sir, that’s really not what I—”

“It’ll be worse the longer you put it off.” You weren’t dangerous. You weren’t a criminal. You weren’t strong, but Wriothesley was. Before you could so much as push yourself to your feet, his arm was around your waist and he was perched on the edge of the cot, one leg tucked underneath him to make more room for your body, soon pulled between his thighs. The back of your shoulder screamed where it pressed into his chest, but you managed to swallow the little, pitiful sound threatening to bubble past your lips and clung to your sheet – suddenly so much thinner than it’d seemed, seconds prior. If Wriothesley noticed your apparent panic, the distress of his prisoners was an inconvenience he was willing to endure. Only half-consciously, you tried to shove yourself away from him, but his muscle-bound arm was snaked around your waist before you could gain any distance, keeping you flush against his broad chest. He was so much bigger than you’d realized, when he was on the other side of that desk, when he was engraving something intrusive and permanent into the very fabric of your being. This had been a bad idea. Trusting anyone here had been a bad idea. You should never have—

Your elbow slammed into his diaphragm, and Wriothesley let out a slow grunt, his fingers burrowing into the plush of your side. “Easy now, love,” he half-muttered, half-breathed, bowing his head to speak into the side of your throat. “We had a deal, remember? Can you tell me what it was?”

“You—you said I wouldn’t get hurt if—” You forced yourself to stop, to swallow, to breathe. “But, I only agreed to get one tattoo, and you—”

“I said I’d take care of you. Get you a nice, cushy job with the fortress administrator, keep you out of any over-crowded bunks, make sure the other prisoners don’t cause you any trouble – that kind of thing. I’m really not supposed to play favorites, so even doing that much is going to take more than a little discretion on my part.”

“But, you offered to—”

“I said I’d take care of you, and I’m going to.” You could see him fishing something off of the bedside table with his free hand, but you forced yourself not to look, not to make the ever-growing pit in your stomach feel that much more hollow. “You’ve heard a few stories about what it’s like in the underworld, right? I try to keep all of you nice n’ safe, but a few are bound to fall through the cracks. Rehabilitation can only do so much and—well, I’m sure you know all about how bloodthirsty desperation can make someone.” There was a pause, an ebbing lull to the tenderness in his voice. “I’m just trying to keep you safe, sweetheart. Are you going to help me get a little practice in, while I do that?”

Practice. If he wanted practice, you were sure there were another hundred prisoners who’d willingly lay down and let him carve a hole through whatever he wanted to. Still, you did your best to calm yourself down, to stop thrashing, to shut your eyes and try to ignore the large, pulsing thing you could feel pressing into your ass. You didn’t nod, didn’t give him permission, but when his fist balled around the infirmary sheet and tugged it away from you, the only resistance you managed to scrape up was a slight frown and a wary glance in his direction. “You’re already in for a rough night,” he explained, as if that was any excuse. “Might as well get the hardest one out of the way first, right?”

You refused to let yourself linger on the implication that this wasn’t going to be the last, too.

You clenched your eyes shut as his large hand pawed at the right side of your chest, kneading into the softened flesh with an almost delicate sort of care. “It’s easier after a little stimulation,” he murmured, as if that meant he had to spend so long circling your nipple with a calloused thumb, occasionally swiping over the sensitive bud in a way that made your thighs twitch and your face burn. When your nipple was stiff and pebbled, he pulled away, but it was a momentary reprieve – torn away from you with a splash of freezing disinfectant. It dripped down your chest and filled the stagnant air with a thick, chemical haze as Wriothesley caught your nipple between his thumb and forefinger, pinching tightly. You felt the long, curved tip of his piercing needle against your skin, and braced yourself for the pain. Wriothesley wasn’t kind enough not to drag it out, though. “Wanna count me down?”

You shook your head, pushing yourself that much closer to his chest, desperate for any kind of stability. You’d hoped that Wriothesley would take your clear obstinance as a sign not to drag it out any longer, but he seemed to savor it – the agony of the wait, the way the dread seemed to multiply tenfold every time you forced yourself to suck in a ragged inhale. Seconds seemed to pass like frozen honey, only just beginning to drip. You’d started to think he wouldn’t do it, that he’d just laugh and admit this was all part of some bizarre, invasive hazing ritual when Wriothesley let out an airy chuckle and plunged his needle into you.

Oh, archons.

You really thought the tattoo would’ve been worse.

It was faster, at least; a bright shock of pain followed immediately by a steady, throbbing sort of ache that seemed to drown out every other sensation and fill your mind with a buzzing, numbing static. You didn’t realize your eyes had shot open on reflex until tears blurred your vision, until you glanced down just in time to watch as he dragged the needle through and replaced it with a small, silver stud – a barbell, as wrong as it felt to think of yourself having something so vulgar attached to you. You were crying unabashedly by the time he finished, pain and humiliation dripping down your cheeks in hot, wet streams, but Wriothesley’s shallow pool of sympathy must’ve run dry. “Ah, don’t make that face, sweetheart – we’re only halfway done.” You felt him panting into the crook of your neck as his hand found the other side of your chest. The last threads of his veil of composure frayed and broke apart as he groped unabashedly at your chest, toying with your nipple as your sobs echoed off of the clinic walls. You felt something thick and hot and wet crash against your collarbone and drip down the curve of your chest, and forced yourself to believe it was only disinfectant. That there was nothing it could’ve been except disinfectant.

Wriothesley’s hips rocked against your ass, the rigid outline of his cock pressing into you, incinerating any lingering delusions you might’ve had of helpful prison wardens exchanging one favor for another. Five fingers bit into the plush of your chest as he brought his needle to your unmutilated nipple, his hand surprisingly steady despite the airy, drawling moans he was pouring into your throat. “P-please don’t,” you managed, fighting to speak above the pathetic cries and choking fear doing their best to strangle out your voice. “Please, I can’t—I don’t want to—”

But, Wriothesley wasn’t listening. It wasn’t a spark, this time, but a red-hot knife, stabbed deep into your chest and twisted as far as it could go. You heard Wriothesley let out a rough groan, felt something warm and damp against your ass, and then, you were gone.

You startled awake hours later; bolting upright as you heaved in jolting, uneven inhales. Immediately, pain knocked you out of your panicked daze – sharp and piercing, imbedded into the back of your shoulder and either side of your chest, strong enough to remind you to measure out your breathing and calm down before you blindly threw yourself back into a seething pit of violent criminals. It took you a second to realize that you weren’t on an undersized infirmary cot, anymore, and another to piece together where he’d taken you – a bedroom nearly triple the size of your bunk. The warden’s chambers, you figured, as you scanned over the limited decoration and piles of dust-coated paperwork stacked onto every possible surface. Wriothesley’s room.

Wriothesley’s bed, at that. A cold chill ran down your spine as you realized that he’d taken the time to strip you out of your ill-fitting coveralls and redress you in a shirt sizes too big to be one of yours – the bleached, threadbare material a stark contrast to the satin sheets draped over your legs. You started to push them away and move towards the edge of the mattress, but froze as a door on the far side of the room creaked open – Wriothesley slipping inside and letting the door shut behind him. He moved away from it quickly, but as it closed, you could’ve sworn you heard the muffled, deafening click of a lock sliding into place and cutting you off from the rest of the world – or, the rest of the underworld, rather. As if there was anyone out there who would bother to save you, even if they could try.

“There’s my sleeping beauty.” He grinned as he lowered himself on the side of the bed, positioning himself closer to you than he absolutely had to. He reached out, moving to cup your face, but quickly let his hand fall back to his side when you flinched away. His smile dimmed, but didn’t fall away. “Get a chance to see the improvements, yet?”

After a second of hesitation, you shook your head, and he nodded to your chest - the gesture more of an order than a suggestion. Reluctantly, you pinched your collar between two fingers and peeled away from your skin. Through the narrow sliver, you could see his handiwork: a pair of twin rings hanging from either nipple, connected by a thin, lax, silver chain – so light, you could barely feel it brushing your diaphragm as the air caught in your chest.

You dropped the collar before you could give in to the nausea beginning to coil in the pit of your stomach. You couldn’t bear to look at Wriothesley, so you kept your eyes on the sheets, kneading at the fabric half-consciously as you struggled to find your voice. “That wasn’t what we agreed to,” you muttered, mostly under your breath. “Can I go back to my bunk, now?”

His smile took on an almost apologetic note. You tried again. “Am I... Am I going to be able to leave?”

This time, when he reached out, flinching away wasn’t enough to stop him – his hand catching your chin and drawing you that much closer to him. You tried to lurch away, but it was too late, his lips were already crashing into yours, his tongue already slipping past your teeth and raking over your own. While your eyes widened in shock, his went half-lidded, closing just a second too late. Abruptly, it occurred to you that you’d never really noticed the color of his eyes – a pale, faded blue. The color of the half-formed flowers currently stretching across your back.

Wriothesley’s hand slipped to the nape of your neck. You let your eyes fall shut, and did your best not to think at all.

#yandere #yandere x reader #yandere x you #yandere imagines #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #yandere genshin #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin x reader #yandere wriothesley #wriothesley x reader

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katnisspeetaprim · 2 months

Text

How Did You end Up Here?

Platonic!Alastor/Reader

Summary: Alastor couldn't quite understand how someone like you ended up in Hell,so naturally he wanted find out. (I tried my best with this one. Sorry if it's bad!) Requests open!

Warnings: implied fem reader, platonic relationship, mentions of abusive relationship, mentions of murder.

Word Count: 1450 Hazbin M.list

You hadn’t been in Hell long, but you were already getting used to your new home. Safe to say you were doing better than when you first arrived anyway.

Charlie had found you on your first day, cowering in an alley way. You’d be forever grateful to her for helping you that day, and introducing you to her hotel reform programme.

That’s how you met the radio demon, Alastor.

He was intrigued by you the second Charlie marched you through the front door. He stood back and observed as the hyperactive princess excitedly introduced you to everyone.

Alastor didn’t miss the way you curled in on yourself with a blush when everyone gathered round to greet you. You clearly didn’t like being centre of attention. He decided to step out of the shadows to introduce himself.

‘Oh Y/N this is Alastor! The hotel wouldn’t be possible without him!’

‘Oh you give me too much credit! But Y/N dear, charmed to meet you!’ You were taken aback by the strange man in front of you. His voice was off and the way he was grinning down at you was... unnerving.

‘Ummm nice to meet you.’ You looked away and played with your fingers nervously. ‘I’m new to Hell.’

‘Well I can see that my dear.’ He shrugged nonchalantly, before leaning down closer to you with a glint in his eye. ‘You seem very timid for a sinner I must say.’

You didn’t know if he was trying to taunt you or if he was just stating a fact, because he was right after all.

‘Uh yeah, I guess...’ You trailed off with a nervous chuckle, not really wanting to get into your situation right now.

Sensing the change in atmosphere, Charlie quickly pushed her way between the two of you, stating that her and Vaggie were going to show you round. You sighed in relief, happy to follow the two women if it meant you were out of the spot light.

All the other residents went back to what they were doing before your arrival, all except Alastor that is.

He stared after you with slightly narrowed eyes. This could be interesting.

Over the next few weeks, you’d gotten used to the eccentric bunch of misfits that inhabited the hotel, even becoming friends with them, Alastor included.

The radio demon really wasn’t as scary as you first thought, he was arguably the person you had gotten closest to in the short time. You’d always been fascinated by old media when you were alive, so when you found out he was a radio hot back in the day, you couldn’t help but be curious.

Alastor was thrilled to have someone take an interest in his work and wasted no time taking you on a tour of his studio, something that the other residents couldn’t quite believe happened.

‘My dear you seem to be adjusting to Hell splendidly!’ Alastor approached you as you sat in the lounge, nursing a cup of tea.

‘Oh hi Alastor! Yeah, definitely not as scary as my first day.’ You smiled at him as you placed the cup down on the saucer.

‘Yes, much less like a shaking leaf now I must say.’ You laughed lightly and pushed some stray hair behind your ear.

‘Yeah well, all of you here helped with that.’ You smiled fondly, so grateful to your new friends.

Alastor knew your guard was down. Now would be a great opportunity to learn more about your story.

‘I couldn’t help but notice you’ve yet to leave the hotel alone, could that be something to do with how you ended up in Hell? If I may be so bold to ask.’ Alastor just asked you point blank, the signature grin never leaving his face.

Your own smile fell slightly at his question and you looked round uncomfortably, trying desperately to avoid eye contact, and making sure nobody was around to over hear.

Alastor was still grinning down at you, patiently waiting for your response.

‘Umm... Can we go somewhere private to talk?’ You wanted to finally open up to someone about your death, but that didn’t mean you wanted everyone to know all at once. Hopefully it would do you some good to get everything off your chest.

‘Why certainly! Follow me dear.’

Alastor locked the door behind him and gestured for you to sit down on his furniture. As you looked round his room, you couldn’t help but notice that it was oddly normal. For someone as vivid as Alastor, you’d expected more personality to be in this room. Though, he does spend most of his time in his radio tower.

Aslastor sat opposite you and crossed his legs, placing the cane he was never seen without by his side.

‘I’m all ears my little doe.’ Alastor prodded for you to start talking.

‘well uh-‘ You picked at some loose thread at the hem of your skirt, still somewhat unsure of yourself. ‘I killed my boyfriend.’ You burst out suddenly, just wanting to get it out.

Alastor was a little taken back by your sudden confession, having been prepared to do some prodding before you finally said it but he quickly composed himself.

‘My that is surprising. I never would have pegged you as a killer.’ He shrugged his shoulders, before his eyes darkened and his smirk got somehow wider. ‘I should know.’

You shrunk back a little in your seat, unnerved by his sudden dark turn. You weren’t sure why you were so surprised honestly, he had to be in Hell for a reason. You made a mental note to bring it up to him at a later date.

‘It’s not what you think!’ You quickly jumped back in. ‘He was an abusive asshole .. And I just couldn’t take it anymore...’ You looked down with sad eyes. There was a beat of silence before Alastor spoke up.

'Murder will get you a one way ticket to Hell, even if the scum did deserve it.’ He stated as a matter of fact. Alastor was a bad person, that wasn’t up for debate, but it didn’t mean he couldn’t call someone out for being evil.

You smiled a little at his words. It felt good to be validated.

‘But if that sad excuse of a man is dead, then how did you die?’ Alastor wondered out loud, knowing he hadn’t gotten the full story just yet. You scoffed before answering.

‘One of his guys just so happened to come by after I did it. I don’t remember how he did it, but yeah.’

‘Hmm.’ Alastor was digesting all the information you’d just dropped on him. It all made sense now, how someone like you ended up in Hell. Before Alastor could respond, you spoke up again.

‘I guess my ex will be here somewhere too... That’s why I haven’t been out alone since I got here.’ It took a long time for you to leave the hotel for the first time with Charlie, terrified that you would run into him. Charlie never pushed you for an answer as to why you were so scared, but she made sure you knew you would always be safe around her.

‘What an interesting development.’ Alastor smirked to himself, deep in thought again. You stared at him again, still confused.

‘Alastor?’ Your voice seemed to pull him from his thoughts.

‘Oh don’t mind me dear, just thinking things over.’ He spoke with a surprisingly cheery tone to his voice as he waved you off. You nodded with a sigh, knowing you wouldn’t get any information out of him.

‘Thank you for listening to me Alastor, it really means a lot.’ You gave him a real smile. Probably the first time you’d really smiled since your arrival. It really did feel good to finally get everything off your chest.

‘Don’t mention it! But I would like to know everything about this coward.’

That request definitely caught you off guard. Your brows furrowed as you thought it over.

‘Why?’ You cringed at how meek your voice sounded once again.

‘Nothing to worry about dear, just information for future reference!’

It only took a matter of hours for Alastor to track down the bastard. You’d given him quite detailed information about him and what his personality was like.

Plus Alastor had many connections all over Pentagram City, so finding the man was child’s play honestly.

Alastor had finally cornered the man in a dead end alley way. He was shaking with fear, tears running down his face as he looked up at Alastor looking down on him.

‘Now my pathetic fellow, just how should I deal with you?’

#hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel x reader #x reader #alastor #alastor x reader #imagine #one shot #fluff #angst #lucifer morningstar #lucifer #charlie #husk #angel #adam #lute

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foldingfittedsheets · 2 months

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In the bloom of my youth I found myself on an evening with my best friend in the park. We were young and it was a beautiful warm summer night to be out. At sixteen in a small rural town our options for entertainment were limited but it had been a good day.

Park is a somewhat generous term for the locale, what it amounted to was a cleared space with some planters and bushes, a tiny podium, and a square of trees round the perimeter. We had been hanging about with our friend who needed to leave, and waiting to be picked up ourselves, carless plebeians that we were.

So there we were, two teen girls in the park alone as the last of the light faded. Neither of us had cellphones, and my nana was collecting us right from the park as we’d agreed earlier. We were in no hurry, knowing she’d arrive when she arrived.

Until my friend said, “What was that?”

I looked up to where she was pointing but I didn’t see anything. “What?” I asked.

“I think it was… someone streaking?”

It was absurd to think. Our little town, tiny and rural as it was, with a streaker. But I loved my friend, so instead of laughing I said, “Let’s go see.”

I’m not sure what I thought it was, but I was confident she’d be less nervous if we investigated and found a plastic bag or a jogger in white. And I’ll admit I was curious at this anomaly. We made our way across the park to where she’d pointed.

That’s when I saw it too. A flash of pale skin under the streetlights, moving too quickly through the shadows and shrubs to see clearly. My friend clung to my arm, shrinking in on herself and I felt the first twitch of fear. Investigating no longer seemed like the thing to do.

I was determined to protect her from whatever was lurking, so I changed course and started cutting away from the movement, heading for the small shopping center not too far outside the park.

Our progress was suddenly arrested as the mysterious figure launched into our path. A man crouched on the pavement before us, fully nude except for a loincloth. His hair was in white people dreads. It was in every way like Tarzan had stepped out of the animated movie into real life.

My friends fingers were digging painfully into my arm and we stood stock still, staring at this bizarre apparition. He was still a good fifteen feet away from us. He stared back, making soft simian “ooh ooh” sounds.

I was struggling to process that a man in a loin cloth was right there when he started to move toward us. It was in his monkey half crouch, a few shambling steps, slow, with his eyes fixed on us.

“Leave us alone!” I declared.

He stopped, tilting his head this way and that. Then shifted like he would take another step.

I was fully afraid now, but I was also furious that he was menacing us and scaring my friend. I dropped her arm, marching forward with wrath in my eyes and said, “Get out of here before we call the cops!”

At my approach he turned and bolted back into the bushes. I whipped around and zipped back toward my friend, grabbing her arm and power walking us out of there. We arrived at the nearest business and darted inside, conveying what had just happened in garbled snippets.

The workers were outraged to hear our story. They let me call my nana to tell her where we were, then asked if we’d like to call the police. I shook my head. I emphatically did not want to deal with the police.

In the safety of the store my fear had started to feel ridiculous. It was probably just some bored prankster.

As we waited for my nana my friend quietly admitted she would rather liked to have called the cops. I apologized for not asking. We lapsed into silence. She said, “I can’t believe you went toward him.”

I couldn’t either. I didn’t remember planning on it, only I wanted to be between him and my friend. “Do you think he was crazy or was it just a prank?”

She shook her head. She didn’t know either. All these years later I still don’t really know what happened that night. If he was on a dare, or cosplaying Tarzan for fun, or if he was unwell. A lot of the details have hazed over with time but the utter dissonance of seeing a man in a loin cloth pop out of the bushes is seared into me.

I also remember back then, in a whisper both scandalized and fascinated, my friend admitting, “I saw his penis.”

#ramblies #ffs foibles #Tarzan #streaker #writing #story #true story #one of the weirder experiences I’ve had

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riordanness · 3 months

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champagne problems — [l.laurence]

wordcount: 3.2K

warnings: angst

requested: no

a/n: i really love this fic, i spent a super long time on it and it took me ages but i love it so i hope you love it too <3

“Thank you,” I tell my dance partner, another nameless, tasteless, personality-less boy I will never see again. I smile and curtsy, and turn away, as I do every time. No one will ever fill the hole in my heart the way that he did.

I spot Amy talking to Fred, and weave my way towards them. I don’t know anyone else by anything more than name, and it’s awkward. It’s stiff, it’s strange, and it’s uncomfortable. Trying to make friends with these men, men who couldn’t care less about my feelings or my ambitions; just my pretty face and my willingness to marry. Once they discovered I didn’t have my heart in that; at least not anymore, they lost all interest in me.

“Hey, y/n,” Amy greets me, offering me a glass of what I think is champagne.

“Thank you,” I tell her, and take a sip.

“How are you enjoying the party?” Fred addresses me.

I shrug, and try to smile. “It is alright.”

Amy has a sympathetic look on her face. She knows me a little bit too well. All the March sisters do, as well as… him. He knew me better than anyone. Or at least that’s what I thought.

“Laurie!” I laughed, giggling so hard I couldn’t even escape him. His arms caught me tightly, poking and tickling my waist. I squirmed, but the pure joy of being with him was almost overwhelming.

“What?” he teased. “What’s wrong, y/n? Hmm?”

“S-Stop!” I gasped for air, playfully hitting him on the arm. Well, it was a pretty hard punch, actually.

“Ow! Y/n!” Laurie released me and winced, grabbing his arm.

“I’m sorry!” I tried to stop laughing.

He stared at me for a heartbeat, and just as my smile faded, he then grinned. “Gotcha.”

His happiness was infectious. I was smiling again, laughing again, purely and completely content to live forever in this moment.

“Y/n.”

Amy’s voice is a warning, and my brain only hears it a minute after I should. “Hmm?” I ask, glancing up at her. She’s used to my daydreaming, so I assume she’ll just repeat her comment, but Amy isn’t looking at me. She’s staring sternly at the staircase at the entrance of this ballroom.

I turn, and there’s a half moment of anticipation. Who has arrived?

Then, I see him. His wrinkled white shirt, untied bow tie. The glass of alcohol held lazily in his hand. His unruly curls are even more uncombed and unkempt than usual. His eyes are light with mirth and dull from the drink. Two women are fawning over him from either side, and he’s drinking up the attention more eagerly than the champagne.

Laurie.

My breath catches in my throat, and I try to swallow the sudden lump there. “Ah, I see.”

Fred puts a hand on my shoulder, a protective, big-brother gesture. I really appreciate him. No matter how many times I end up basically third-wheeling him and Amy when they go out, he never minds. Amy has told him all about what Laurie did to me, so he decided to step in and try to help fill that hole.

And I love him for it, but no one will ever be capable of making me whole the way Laurie did. And I’m not sure if anyone ever will be able to.

I take a cautious sip of champagne, watching as Laurie drapes himself on a lounge on the opposite side of the room. The girls with him sink to their knees on either side of his body, fawning over the boy.

I don’t care how much expression is visible on my face right now; I can’t do anything but stare in a mix of disgust, disappointment and utter disbelief.

Then, he sees me. His eyes clear a little, they get wide and surprised all of a sudden. He attempts to sit up a little straighter.

I can’t watch anymore. I turn and shove my glass unceremoniously in Fred’s hands, and walk out of the room as quickly as I can manage, heading to the little moonlit garden path I know awaits me outside.

I laugh as Jo tells me about her plans for a new story.

“I want to turn this one into a play,” she adds. “And you should be in it! The main character is just the perfectest part for you to play, y/n.”

I roll my eyes teasingly. “First of all, ‘perfectest’ isn’t a word. And second, you know I don’t act. I’m not going to be any good!”

Jo shrugs. “Won’t know until you’ve tried it.”

I don’t answer, my gaze sliding back to all the dancers on the floor. I wish someone would ask me to dance. But I know no one here other than the March girls. And I can’t exactly dance with Jo. She has a burnt dress and isn’t allowed to dance. Not that she minds; she says she’d rather eat a stick than dance with any of the boys here.

Then, I see a boy with dark curls and pretty eyes staring at me from across the room. I tilt my head, and give a little wave and a half-smile.

He returns it immediately and makes his way over towards us.

“Hello there,” he greets me. “I’m Laurie.”

Jo looks at him. “You’re the Laurence boy. You live near us.”

Laurie nods his head at her. “Miss March.”

“Please. Call me Jo. Everyone does.”

“Jo.”

Laurie then glances at me. “I don’t think I know you.”

I hold my hand out to him. “Y/n, Mr Laurie. I’m friends with the Marches.”

He smiles again, and it’s so pretty my chest hurts. Is this what falling in love is like? Is it supposed to be painful? Supposed to feel like you’re being ripped apart and glued together all at the same time?

I lean myself on the wall outside, my head against the cool stone bricks. My head is pounding, my temples aching.

I didn’t think that seeing him again would have such a strong reaction from me, but apparently even my heart rate still hurts because of him.

I can hear footsteps, but I don’t have the energy to hide my distress from anyone right now. Hopefully whoever it is will just walk by and leave me be.

“Y/n?”

The sound of Laurie’s voice will forever bring me the biggest rush of emotions in the world, but where it used to invite happiness and joy, now entices fear and anxiety and anguish.

I squeeze my eyes shut tight. “Hello Laurie.” I’m surprised at how even my voice sounds. I expected it to come out shaky and distant.

“Hey.” He sounds unsure of what he’s doing. “What’s happening with you?”

My eyes are still closed, and I still have my head against the rocky wall. I shrug one shoulder. “Nothing much, thanks for asking.”

There’s three heartbeats of silence.

Then: “How are you?”

I sigh, open my eyes. “Laurie. Why are you doing this?”

His eyes are unreadable. “Doing what?”

“You know what.”

“Y/n, I…” His voice fades. “I just wanted to say I’m sorry.”

I give him a hard look. “Sorry? Laurie, this isn’t about what happened all those years ago. I’m over it; I’m over you.” I was lying through my teeth, but I refused to give him the satisfaction that knowledge would bring.

I sigh. “What are you doing, Laurie?” I wave my hand at him helplessly. “Drinking, probably gambling again? Fawning over random girls? Laurie, you’re better than this. And you know it, too. You’re throwing your life away, and I…” I swallow. “As your friend, I can’t just sit and watch. You need to stop this. Go home, go see your grandfather. Stop destroying the little boy he used to be so proud of.”

I turn, and walk away, leaving Laurie out there in the moonlight.

I don’t breathe until I reach Fred and Amy again. They’re laughing and drinking champagne together, but when they see me, the conversation dies.

“Hey, you okay?” Amy asks.

I try to nod, then tears glisten in my eyes and I have to drop. I shake my head, meeting my friend’s eyes. “I’m gonna go home,” I tell her.

She nods in understanding, her eyes searching mine, desperate for answers.

“I told him what he needed to hear,” I say quickly. “But—he still doesn’t know how much it hurts. And it hurts just to see him. It hurts deep in my soul. I—I can’t—“ I have to force myself to take a deep breath, sobs building in my chest.

I leave, Amy’s hand squeezing mine as I go.

I lie on my back, staring at the ceiling as ‘Aunt’ March chatters about how Fed and Amy are soon to be engaged, so I really must hurry and marry soon.

“Are you even listening to me, y/n?” she asks sharply.

I sit up straight in an instant. “Uh—yes of course, Ms March.”

“How many times must I ask you to call me Aunt,” she sighs. “You’re practically family at this point, my dear.”

I smile. “Alright, Aunt March.”

“Very good. Now, as I was saying…”

I zone back out as she talks, my mind drifting instead to Laurie. I truly had thought I was over him, or at least pretty much so. Rather, the moment I saw him, I thought I might explode. Seeing his smile, his eyes, the way he stands, it made all the memories just come flooding back.

“Laurie—“ I call, walking into his room one pretty Saturday morning. “Get up lazy bones. We’ve got things to do!”

The only response is a groan from underneath Laurie’s covers. I sit on the edge and poke at him.

“Come on!” I beg. “We’re gonna be late, you know.”

Laurie’s curls peep out. “Late for what?” he asks groggily.

I resist the urge to giggle. “Late for our adventures, of course. We have a walk planned, and you promised me you’d teach me fencing this weekend, and you have to keep that promise. It was a pinky promise.”

Laurie groans again. “I don’t want to get up, y/n.”

“What? Even to spend time with me?”

“Yes. Go away.”

I roll my eyes. “I’m not going anywhere, Theodore Laurence, not until you get—up—“ I poke him in the shoulder twice.

“Y/n!” he whines.

I laugh. “Yes, Laurie?”

He sticks his head fully out now, and looks at me. “You’re my best friend, and I love you, but I am not getting up yet.”

I ignore the flutter in my chest and grab his arm, pulling him hard. “Yes you are! I promised your grandfather I’d force you to exercise while he’s gone, and I intend to keep my promise.”

“Fine,” Laurie relents. He allows me to drag him out of bed, and after he’s dressed, the two of us head off into our favourite trail in the woods.

My heart hurts, and my head hurts, and my eyes hurt. I want to get up, go for a walk or something, but I can’t find it in me to do so. So I simply close my eyes and continue to lay face-up along the foot of my four-poster bed.

It doesn’t seem like long at all before someone is tapping my shoulder.

“Sorry, Amy,” I mumble, eyes still closed. “Did I drift off?”

“It’s… not Amy,” a quiet voice answers.

I sit up straight immediately, and come face to face with none other than Laurie Laurence.

“Hi.” He almost says it like a question.

I frown a little, unsure of the nature of this unexpected visit. “Hello, Laurie.”

He winces a little. “Look, you don’t have to say anything. You said plenty last night.”

“You needed to hear it,” I retort.

“I know.” He lets out his breath. “I’ve been thinking, all night, about what you said. You were right, you were right about all of it. I am wasting my life, I’m ruining everything because of one stupid mistake that unravelled it all. And–and I’m sorry. I’m so sorry I’ve hurt you, in all the ways that I have. You don’t deserve a friend like me; you never did.”

He stands to go, and for a heartbeat, I think about letting him. But then,

“Laurie!”

I see him, walking along the street as I pass on the other side. I immediately break away from Jo, who I was escorting to town. “I'll see you later, Jo.”

She smiles knowingly and shoos me off. “Bye, y/n/n.”

“Laurie!” I call again, running to catch up with him.

At the sound of my voice, he half-turns, double-takes, and then his face breaks into a wide grin, the way he always saves just for me. “Y/n!”

I run right until I’m in his arms. “I missed you,” I sigh into his hair. “When did you get back?”

I feel him smiling. “Only just this morning. I was going to surprise you, but you beat me to it, tesoro mio.”

“Laurie, you know I don’t speak Italian,” I laugh, pulling away slightly to look at him. “I’m not the one who just went to Italy for a year. And don’t use it without telling me the meanings; it’s mean! I never know what you’re saying.”

Laurie has a faint smirk on his face. “Sorry, tesoro mio.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re ridiculous.”

“You love me,” he replies easily, and oh, how badly I want to agree with him out loud. Yes, I wanted to say. Yes, I’m head over heels in love with you.

So I do say it. “Yes,” I say, “I do.”

Laurie blinks at me. “What?”

My mouth opens a little, but for a second, nothing comes out. “I do love you,” I say slowly.

Laurie stares at me. “Why?”

“Everything, Laurie,” I sigh. “You’re kind, and beautiful, and you understand me better than even I can. You’re always there to cheer me up when I need that, and when I’m sad, you’re all too happy to give me your shoulder to cry on. You always know exactly what I’m thinking, and feeling, and you always know the right thing to say. You don’t mind my silly ramblings, or fantasies, and you don't care what anyone thinks of you. You’re always the person I want to be around; Laurie, you make me so happy. I love you, Laurie Laurence, and I think I always have.”

There’s silence for a minute, just a heartbeat too long to feel comfortable. All I can hear are the birds in the trees above us, but their songs sound alarming.

Laurie looks away, then at the sky, and finally back at me. His tongue swipes his lower lip in a way that I know is nervous.

“Y/n,” he says, and his tone instantly crushes me. “I—that’s extremely sweet and beautiful and I love you too, but…”

My heart sinks. “But you love Jo.” A part of me had always known, but I’d tried to convince myself otherwise. Clearly, my instinct had been correct.

“I can’t help it!” Laurie tries to justify himself, but he has no reason to. He can’t help who he’s fallen in love with, just as I cannot help falling in love with him. “I love you, y/n, I truly do. You’re my best friend… but the love I feel for Jo, it’s different. And you’re not her. You will never, and can never be her.”

I feel like someone has ripped my heart from my chest, stepped on it, thrown it into a frozen lake, and shoved it back inside of me. All I can manage is a nod.

“You should probably tell her then,” I whisper, and I turn to go. I can’t bear looking at him any longer.

That was the last time I’d seen Laurie for a very long time. I’d left for Europe with Amy, leaving Laurie and Jo to have a life together, if that’s what they wanted. Turns out Jo never saw him in that way, and he was rejected by her later that very same day.

I was still amazing friends with all the March girls, and I still cradled my childhood memories close to my heart.

But my heart has never healed. Every time Laurie Laurence was on my mind, it stung like only yesterday. Any day that a memory of those long walks, the silly fights, the hugs and dances, the inside jokes and dumb decisions came to me, I’d break down and cry.

“Laurie!”

He stops at the sound of my voice, turns, and his green eyes meet mine. He stares, waiting for me to speak.

“Don’t leave,” I say softly. “Please. Don’t make the mistake I did.”

He turns to fully face me now. “What mistake?”

I let out a breath. “Running. When someone needed me most.”

His eyes clear in understanding. I missed this about him, the way he’d always know exactly what I meant by everything. I never had to explain anything, because Laurie knew my heart. He always understood what I was trying to say, no matter what.

“Y/n—“

I hold my hand to stop his words. “Don’t say anything,” I tell

him. “You don’t have to. You have never, and will never, be under any obligation to return the feelings I have for you. That’s not your fault, and it wasn’t back then, and I’m sorry that I dropped you out of my life after that day. I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you when Jo turned you down, I’m sorry I never replied or even read your letters. I—“

“You never read my letters?” Laurie’s voice sounds broken.

I stop. “No. I—I didn’t.”

Laurie looks down, his forehead scrunching together. “No wonder…” he mutters. “You… you had no idea.”

Now it’s my turn to frown. “No idea about what?”

He glances up, his eyes searching mine, for what I don’t know. “I wrote to you, y/n. Dozens of times. I poured my heart out into those letters. I told you how much I missed you, how badly I was hurting over what I’d said to you that day. I—I told you how Jo helped me to realise that it really was you all along. I’ve been in love with you since I first met you, y/n, and I never stopped. I just didn't realise it. But when you never wrote back, I assumed that was your answer.”

“Oh, Laurie,” I whisper, tears in my voice. “I’m so sorry.” A million thoughts are racing through my mind, but one rises above the others.

“Is it still true?”

He hesitates. “That I love you?”

I nod once. “Yeah.”

“It will always be true.”

And for the first time in a long while, I feel at home again.

#laurie laurence #little women #laurie x reader #laurie laurence x reader #theodore laurence #theodore laurence x reader #little women fanfiction #timothee chalamet #timothee chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet x reader #timothée chalamet

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dilemmaontwolegs · 11 months

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The Taste of Temptation {2} || DR3

Pairing: Daniel Ricciardo x fem!reader Summary: Back by popular demand...possessive Daniel and his kitten who keeps getting into trouble thanks to the other drivers. Warnings: 18+ only, NSFW, age gap (13 years) reader is 20, smut, anal, cream pie, bj, cumplay WC: 5.6k F1 Masterlist Story: One || Two || Three || Four || Five Snapshots One || Two || Three || Four || Five

Round 13 - Belgium “This is a good thing, babe.” Danny didn’t believe your words as he pulled you onto his lap. “People see my uniform and immediately dislike me because we are always seen escorting you guys to the stewards. The fans blame us for your penalties.”

“I get why they want to do this, but why does it have to be you,” he grumbled.

“Maybe it’s because I’m so lovable,” you suggested as you pouted and did your best impression of puppy eyes. “Who could hate this face?”

Daniel finally rewarded you with a smile as he traced your lips with his thumb. “Fine, but if I have to watch you play show pony then there’s something I get to do first.”

You were running late thanks to Danny and your thighs were slick beneath your skirt as you marched quickly through the paddock to where the FIA’s PR team were waiting. He had thoroughly enjoyed watching you leave his room, knowing what a mess he had made under your skirt and that he was keeping your panties hostage. He promised he would return them after you had finished recording the interviews with McLaren and Alpine.

“Why didn’t you jump over it?” Lando greeted as he spotted you eye up the metal barrier before deciding to walk the long way around.

“I’m in a skirt, genius.”

“Hasn’t stopped you before,” he shot back before giving you a friendly side hug. “I’m surprised he let you do this.”

You laughed but realised what a mistake it was as you clenched your legs together, more of his cum leaking from your pussy. “It wasn’t without conditions. Before you ask, just don’t.”

Lando wrinkled his nose and shook his head. “Ew. Wasn’t going to.”

“Sure…” You rolled your eyes and was grateful that Oscar arrived so the Instagram Live feature could begin.

“What would you rather…eat brussel sprouts for the rest of your life or live in Logan’s childhood bedroom?”

“Who came up with these questions? Did your fans really send these in or are you making this up?” you asked as you pressed the back of your hand to your forehead while you considered the choices of the latest take. “Can I at least call him and ask about it? Because I’m not a fan of brussel sprouts but if he had the American flag hanging on his wall above his bed then it’s a hard pass.”

“What about my room?” Oscar offered instead.

Lando laughed behind his hand. “You had pictures of Danny on your wall so she would obviously choose that.”

Though it was no secret among the drivers that you were dating Daniel, it wasn’t something that was publicised and you narrowed your eyes at Lando before Oscar drew the attention to himself.

“Mate, what are you talking about?” Oscar joked, “I still do.”

Lando lost it and crumpled over laughing, almost taking you down with him as he clung to your arm. “Next question, next question,” he begged between the belly laughs that triggered your own and you pressed your thighs together as tight as possible.

Just when you thought you had recovered Oscar picked up the next card and he pressed his lips together as he tried to compose himself. “I think Doohan sent this one in...Cats or dogs?”

One look from Lando was all it took.

“Don’t you say it,” you warned as his lips twitched. “Don’t you dare. There are children watching.”

Lando’s eye flickered to the side where Esteban and Pierre were laughing as they waited for their turn before he looked at the camera. “Doggy…” It was almost impossible to tell what he said as it turned to a high-keening screech of a laugh before he fell onto Oscar for support.

“Oh my god, I don’t know this guy, never met him before in my life,” you rambled as you sidled out of the camera’s view before losing it yourself. “Fucking hell, Lando!”

The producer looked at you and shook his head. “Still live, Y/N.”

“Ahhh, my bad. Just give me a minute,” you wheezed as you walked off and found a bathroom. You wanted to curse Daniel for the ‘gift’ he had given you as you washed away the streaks of cum that ran down your thighs but you loved when he owned you. It wouldn’t have taken much longer for it to reach below your skirt and then the entire world would have seen the evidence.

If you thought the interview with McLaren took a turn, it was nothing compared to Alpine. The two Frenchmen were completely unhinged compared to the more innocent McLaren drivers and they knew exactly what they were doing with their turn of phrase.

“What do you enjoy more, overtaking on a straight or a corner?” you asked as you bent the question card nervously.

“Easy. Straight,” Esteban answered first. “You get to go faster and push harder.”

“Ah, yeah,” Pierre agreed with a nod. “I know what you mean. But I like a tight corner because you have to control yourself on the entry or you could hurt yourself but once you’re in you can push the limits too.” He demonstrated the ‘corner’ overtake with his fingers, curling two digits suggestively and winked at the camera.

“Is there a priest in the paddock?” you asked as you hid behind the cue card. “These two boys need God.”

You saw the smirk on Pierre’s face before he opened his mouth and you jumped in front of him, clamping a hand over his lips. “That was not an invitation to make a joke about missionary or praying on your knees or whatever other dirty thought crossed your mind. Got it?”

“Got it,” he laughed as your hand fell away and he turned you to face the camera that was still streaming. “You did it for me.”

The frustrated sound you made only caused more laughter and you tossed the remaining question cards into the air. “I think that’s enough torturing me for one day. If you need therapy after watching this like I do, feel free to send the bill to Alpine HQ in Enstone; care of Pierre Gasly.”

You closed your eyes as you leaned against the door to Danny’s room, taking a few deep breaths as you readied yourself to face him knowing he had watched the live feed. You didn’t expect him to suddenly open the door, and you tumbled back into his arms with a surprised squeak.

“I was on my way to find you, kitten,” he whispered as his arms enveloped you and he stepped back, taking you with him as he kicked the door closed again. He walked you to the small bathroom and laced his finger with yours, turning on the tap and lathering the soap over your palms. “You don’t know where Pierre’s mouth has been.”

You peered up into the mirror as the warm water washed away the touch of another man’s mouth on them and met his eyes watching you swallow. “I didn’t know they would ask those questions.”

His cheeks twitched before he stopped the dark smile from cresting and he rested his chin on your shoulder as his damp hands ran down your curves to the hem of your skirt. “Sex sells, kitten. Every marketing team knows that, even the FIA.”

His hands drew your skirt up and you gasped as he pushed you forward, bending you over the vanity. “I thought we had a deal…” he tutted as he felt the dry skin of your thighs that he parted.

“I had to,” you whispered breathlessly as you watched his reflection, his doubtful eyebrow lifting while he pushed his jeans down his legs. “Everyone would have seen.”

“Exactly,” he chuckled in your ear as he grabbed your knee and lifted it to the cold bench top. “Everyone would know who you belonged to.” His palm clamped over mouth to stifle the cry as he speared your cunt and your eyes fluttered shut as he filled you completely. “Who do you belong to, kitten?”

You lashed your tongue across his palm and he eased his grip, smearing your saliva over your chin as he reached for your throat instead. His fingers tightened as he waited for an answer and you pushed yourself back against him with a moan. “You.”

His deeply satisfied growl had your cunt clenching and he snapped his hips forward with a pace you couldn’t match. All you could do was plant your hands on the mirror and surrender yourself to the pleasure he gave you.

“No more interviews. No more videos,” Danny stated as he grazed his teeth over your shoulder. “If someone asks, you send them my way.”

Your head was spinning as you rode the high of your orgasm and you nodded though you couldn’t think clearly. You would have said yes to anything he asked when he drove you to that dreamlike state.

“Do you know how crazy it makes me to see you with them?” You yelped as he dug his teeth into your skin and the fog in your mind began to clear. “I want to be the only one who makes you laugh, who makes you smile. I can’t wait to have you all to myself for three weeks.”

His hips slowly rocked against you as he watched clarity return to your eyes. “What do you have planned?”

The smirk he gave you made your heart stutter and he pulled out leaving you empty. “Lots.”

His fingers trailed through your dripping folds, gathering your slick before circling your ass and you moaned as he pressed a digit in. Your forehead dropped to the cool mirror and your breath steamed up the glass as he added another finger, stretching you ready for him.

“You’ll find out in good time,” he promised before you felt his tip replace his fingers. “Relax, kitten.”

He gripped your hips and his thumbs massaged your lower back, easing the tense muscles before he pushed forward and your breath left your lungs in a low moan that he echoed. “Fuck, you feel so good. So fucking tight.”

He gave you a moment to adjust to his size before you grew impatient and rolled your hips, silently begging him to start fucking you. If you were in a hotel or his apartment he would have teased you until you were crying with need and loudly begging him but the driver room wasn’t soundproof enough for that. And, he had his own schedule of appointments he needed to get to before someone came looking for him.

“We’re gonna try this again, kitten.” His voice was deep and husky as he gripped your hips tight enough to leave bruises. “I’m going to fill this pretty little ass before I go to my interview and if you’re a good girl I might let you have these when I get back.” He reached into his jeans halfway down his thighs and pulled out your panties, balling them into his fist as he lifted them to his nose so he could inhale your scent with a hum. “Deal?”

“Yes, fine, Danny, just please fuck me,” you begged shamelessly as you reached down your front and teased yourself. He chuckled as he felt your body tighten around him before he pushed your hand aside and circled your clit himself.

“Hold on, kitten, and keep quiet.”

You bit your lip as he roughly palmed your ass, spreading your cheeks wide so he could watch how well you took every long inch of him. He shifted behind you, oh so subtly, but the change in angle made stars dance across your vision and your jaw fell slack with a silent moan.

Your palms were slipping across the mirror with every hard rut of his hips, your hands smearing the glass with the fine layer of sweat that coated your entire body. Your legs began to shake as the pressure built in your core and his breath warmed your ear as he grunted with the tightening he felt.

“That’s it, babygirl,” he praised with a whisper. “Come all over me, let me feel you.”

You teeth clenched as your orgasm ripped through you, shattering your world into splinters of light and stars only to explode again when he reached over your hip and flicked your sensitive clit.

“Fuck, holy shit,” Danny breathed against your neck as you shuddered in his arms and saw wet streaks running down your legs to the floor. “God, you’re perfect.”

He kissed your shoulder as he eased out of your ass slowly, small whimpers filling the room as your core throbbed with aftershocks. His kisses trailed up your neck and you craned your head so you could reach his lips, tasting a hint of coffee on his tongue.

“I have to go,” he murmured against your lips but still he made no effort to leave.

“Then go,” you dared, turning in the cage his arms had made around you as you pulled your skirt back into place.

His eyes narrowed at the challenge before a smarmy smile grew and he kissed your forehead as he stepped away. “Okay.”

“You’re meant to stay,” you muttered as you crossed your arms.

His deep laugh echoed through the bathroom as he pulled his jeans up and left. “You young ones think you invented everything. I’ve been pulling the reverse psychology card since you were in preschool, kitten. I’ll see you later.”

“Whatever,” you huffed, only making him laugh more on his way out the door. “Old man.”

“Heard that. I don’t need hearing aids yet, love.”

You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing and he paused at the sound to send you a wink and blow a kiss before he was gone.

You still had a few minutes before you needed to make your way to HQ and as you sat down, tenderly, you noticed your panties on the coffee table. You started to reach for them but paused and looked around the room suspiciously before sitting back and shaking your head.

“Not falling for it,” you stated aloud just in case he was somehow listening. “Nice try, babe, but I’m not going to take the bait.”

The three week break did not go as planned. After the car’s poor performance in Belgium, Daniel and Max had been called to the factory for some much needed testing and upgrades. Not wanting to spend your holiday in the tiny city of Milton Keynes, Daniel had given you keys to his apartment in Monaco and one of his credit cards with the demand that you spoil yourself while he isn’t there to do it for you.

You were surprised to see his name pop up on your phone in the middle of the day but you quickly answered it with a smile. “Hey, aren’t you busy?”

“Just taking a little break.” He sounded tired and you wished he had video called so you could see his face. “What are you up to?”

“I’m going to Rejuvenate, remember? Getting a massage, maybe a facial too.”

“I could give you one of those, the facial not the massage. Though I could probably manage that too.”

“You have the hands for it, but I think they would wander too much to actually massage me properly.” The spa was just up ahead and you slowed your walk so you could keep talking a minute more. “I miss you.”

“Yeah? Me too, kitten,” he chuckled softly and the sound was so intimate you could have sworn he was right next to you. “I’ll see you soon.”

The soothing scent of lavender and jasmine welcomed you as you stepped inside the boutique spa. You immediately began to relax as you undressed and lay down on the massage table, draping a towel over your lower half while you waited for the masseuse to arrive. The sounds of gentle ocean waves and whales singing started to fill the room and you shifted on the table as you settled into a comfortable position and your vision narrowed to the small circle your face rested in.

The door creaked open and you heard the tinkle of glass jars before the cork on one was unstopped with a pop.

“Special Offer: Afternoon Delight with a happy ending?”

You jumped at the deep voice and nearly fell off the table as you turned to see Danny oiling his hands up in the candlelight. “What are you doing here?”

He looked exactly as you had imagined after the phone call, handsome, as always, but exhaustion left dark smudges beneath his eyes that wrinkled with the smile he gave you. He crossed the narrow space as you reached for him, your lips reuniting with desperate need after almost a week apart and he pulled away breathless.

“I’m taking a little break, heading back in the morning. But I needed one night with my kitten.” His slick hands warmed your back as he held you close. “I’m not going to let this oil go to waste by the way, lay down.”

Danny whipped the towel away from you and hummed as he eyed your body up with the hunger of a man who had been starving for a week. The look was one reflected in your eyes as he untied his robe and let it hang open for you to see he hadn’t only been oiling his hands.

“I’m glad you found the right room,” you commented as you bit your lip and laid down on your back.

His lips twitched as he reached for the opened jar and drizzled the warm coconut oil over your chest. “This time. Don’t ask me how many rooms there are in this place.”

Your breasts bounced as you giggled and he cupped them as he worked the oil into your skin. A contented sigh fell from your parted lips as you relaxed under his ministrations and your nipples peaked at the touch. The air rushed from you with a gasp when he pinched one sharply and you felt the jolt all the way down to your core.

“So responsive,” he growled as one hand traced a line to your navel and continued further, slipping between your legs and feeling how wet you were for him. “Hmm, I wonder…”

“What?” you asked curiously as you fought the urge to squirm.

“Have you thought about piercing these? I think you’d enjoy it,” he asked as he pinched your nipple and curled his fingers deep in your cunt at the same time, your back arching off the table with a moan. “Make you even more sensitive.”

His fingers were working you to a frenzy and you couldn’t think clearly as he put the idea in your head but every time your walls started to flutter he slowed down with a teasing chuckle.

“Fuck, Danny, I need you,” you begged as you reached for his cock and stroked the hard length. “Please.”

“Have you been a good girl?” he asked as he watched your hand sliding up and down his shaft, his dick glistening with oil.

“Yes,” you whined. “I haven’t come since you left, I haven’t touched myself.”

He kissed you messily with teeth and tongue as he palmed your clit and he inhaled your cry of ecstasy as he gave you the release you needed. “Open up, kitten,” he ordered as he pulled you up to the top of the table and left your head hanging over the edge. He fisted his cock and ran the weeping tip over your lips and you flicked your tongue out to taste him. “Relax your throat, babygirl.”

You let your head fall back and his hands massaged the column of your throat as he pushed past your lips and coconut overpowered the taste of his musk on your tongue. You ran your hands over your chest, slicking them up with oil before grabbing his ass and digging your nails in to spur him on.

“That’s it, kitten, use those claws,” he urged as his glutes tensed beneath your hands with each thrust into your mouth.

Spittle ran over your lips and your eyes watered as he abused your mouth and your body responded with a throb deep in your core. Getting him off was a sure way of getting yourself off as you had found out and you prided yourself on making his knees weak.

After crossing your legs to give yourself friction you turned all your focus on pleasuring Danny, teasing him as he so often did to you with an oiled finger. A deep groan filled the room and Daniel lost his rhythm as you curled your finger and found the spot like he had taught you to.

“Fuck, I’m gonna cum, kitten,” he warned as his cock seemed to swell even more, making breathing impossible. Tears leaked out of the corner of your eyes and his fingers tightened around your throat as if he could touch himself before he growled through his gritted teeth and pulled out. Hot ropes of cum spurted across your lips and cheeks before he released a shuddering breath and placed a steadying hand on the table beside you.

It didn’t take him long to recover before he reached over to the service table and placed two items over your eyes. “There’s your facial, love.”

You licked your lips and hummed at the taste of him before picking the items up to see them. “You really put the ‘cum’ in cucumber.” He grinned as you took a bite of one before tossing the other at him. “Go on, high performance athlete, it's healthy for you. Cucumber has lots of vitamins, plus it's boosted with a shot of protein.”

He dodged the cum covered slice with a laugh and pulled his robe back around his body. “Sorry, I’ve already had my protein shake for the day. Does this place have showers?”

You accepted the hand he offered to help you sit up and pointed to the curtain hiding a door. “How did you manage this?”

“Turned up the charm, kitten,” he winked as he stepped into the bathroom, beckoning you to follow with an outstretched hand. “But it was the cash that won them over.”

You caught the washcloth he tossed over and wiped away his facial while he found the right temperature that you both could agree on. When your face was clean, you stepped under the cascade and wrapped your arms around his waist. “Thank you for coming. You look like you could do with a nap.”

He returned the embrace, resting his cheek on the top of your head as the water washed over his back. “I always want a nap after coming,” he joked before tipping your chin back with his finger, a sombre look on his face. “How have you been sleeping?”

“It’ll be better tonight,” was all you could say, anything more would have only made his departure in the morning even harder. “How much longer do you think testing will take?”

He sighed heavily and grabbed a sample size bottle of body wash, squirting it into his hand before lathering it up on his chest. “Another week maybe, hopefully just a few days.”

He pulled you against him and shimmied to share the suds, and lighten the mood, and you giggled as his chest hairs tickled your skin. He visibly relaxed at the sound of your laugh and you cupped his face to feel the muscles pulling into a smile.

“Ready to go home?” you asked softly.

He brushed a quick kiss over your lips and shut off the shower with a nod. “Probably should get going. Max invited us out while everyone’s in town.”

“Who’s everyone?”

“The usual suspects.” He shrugged his shoulders as he started drying himself. “Lando and Charles at least, maybe Pierre if he hasn’t gone back to Milan yet. Carlos too?”

Every time he had a get together he seemed to invite more of his fellow drivers and it was finally changing how the media portrayed him as he was photographed with them. “Max is starting to collect drivers like Pokémon. You know, like that app that came out a few years ago…gotta catch ‘em all.”

Daniel’s face pinched in pain, his brows furrowed together as his upper lip curled back with a groan. “An app? Gen Z strikes again.”

“What do you mean?” Your eyelashes bashed at him innocently but you couldn’t hold the facade as you slapped his chest with a laugh. “I’m kidding, babe, I know it was a Netflix show first.”

“You’re funny, really,” he chuckled when he saw you suppressing your smile and it finally broke through. “Get dressed before I bend you over my knee and spank you.”

The cocktails had been far stronger than you thought and you no longer felt the cold out on the back deck of Max’s yacht. You had shrugged your jacket off as heat flushed through you and let the sea breeze kiss your bare arms while Danny had gone to get you a glass of water.

“So when are we going to make another video?” Pierre asked as he stepped out onto the deck to join you in leaning against the rail overlooking the bright city lights on the skyline.

“It’s only been a week,” you said as he bumped your shoulder and you pushed him back. “How’s things going with Kika?”

A bright smile graced his lips at your friend's name, the handful of dates they had been on seeming to have been a good start. “I'm heading to Paris in a few days to see her. Hey, you should come too. She’d be happier getting you over roses.”

“Oh thanks, I’m reduced to being just a gift now, huh?”

He draped an arm over your shoulder and laughed heartily. “I can tie a little bow around you, if you want.”

“What’s the penalty for breaking a few fingers?” Daniel wondered aloud as he stood in the kitchen watching Pierre touch you.

“What did you expect?” Kelly laughed, announcing her quiet arrival into the room. “She’s pretty and surrounded by rich, good looking guys. She’s too young for you anyway.”

The water from the tap overflowed the glass and wet Daniel’s hand before he turned it off and faced Max’s girlfriend. “That’s pot calling the kettle...”

You slipped out from under Pierre’s arm and shook your head. “Sorry, buddy, there’s only one guy that gets to tie me up.”

Leaving the Frenchman chuckling, you turned and found Danny with a very full glass of water and smiled gratefully as you took it. “Everything alright?”

He waited until you had drunk a few mouthfuls before taking the glass and placing it on the table. Your lips parted in surprise as he pulled you into his arms and captured them, his tongue dancing with yours without care that you weren’t alone. He was usually so careful and controlled outside the privacy of four walls but there was some need driving his passion as his hand trailed down your back to squeeze your ass.

He chuckled as he pulled away, brushing the pad of his thumb over your kiss-swollen lips and spying the desire in your eyes to take things further. He glanced over your shoulder with a smirk before turning his attention back to you and said, “Now it is.”

—

You knew Danny wasn’t pleased that you were going to Paris with Pierre but there was only so much to do in Monaco on your own. Lando had kept you company for a day, borrowing Max’s jet ski while he was away, but then he was heading to the McLaren factory for his own testing so you had taken up Pierre’s offer.

You did have one surprise in store for Danny that you knew would make him happy when you saw him, and you couldn’t wait for the end of the week to hurry up and arrive.

“Say cheese,” Pierre said as he shoved his phone in your face after gathering it from the security scanner along with his carryon luggage.

The security guard rolled his eyes with a look that said he was over dealing with celebrities and he waved you through with a sharp, “Next!”

“Get out of my way,” you growled as you walked through the metal detector.

“Step this way, please,” the man said as he pointed to the big x-ray machine.

“But, I didn’t-” you pointed to the metal detector that hadn’t made a sound but he cut you off.

“It’s a random selection.”

“Random my ass,” you muttered under your breath as you stepped into the machine and pulled the finger at Pierre who was still videoing you. The camera shook as he tried not to laugh out loud and he gave you the thumbs up as the x-ray spun around with its scan.

“Oh, no way,” Pierre laughed and he stepped closer to the image. “You’ve got your nipples pierced!?”

“If this is live and not just a recording I am going to kill you, Gasly.” You looked at the security guard as he checked over the image. “Can I get out now?”

“Go on,” he waved you through and you swiped your bag from Pierre’s hand as you passed him.

“You ruined my surprise.”

“I’m sure he will still be surprised, when he sees the vid,” he admitted sheepishly. “I’m sorry, the fans love seeing you, I thought an impromptu live might be fun.”

“Let’s just get on the plane before someone makes an anonymous call to traffic control about a dodgy Frenchman.”

“He wouldn’t.”

One look at you had him swallowing and his pace picking up. You were mostly joking, but when it came to you, well, Danny could act first without thinking about the consequences. It only took eight hours for you to realise how true that was.

“Where is he?”

A scream of terror pierced the air as your blankets were torn from your body and you scrambled towards the headboard as a silhouette stood beside your bed.

“Danny?” Your voice trembled as your eyes adjusted to the dark hotel room and you recognised his shape that matched the voice. “You scared the shit out of me!”

He grabbed your hand that clutched your chest and pinned it at your side. “Where. Is. He?”

His beard burned your cheek as he growled in your ear and you couldn’t think as his scent drove you crazy. “Who?”

“Gasly.”

“Why would Pierre be in here?” you asked, your genuine confusion giving him pause.

“Because you came here with him, to the city of love,” he spat angrily as he flicked the bedside lamp on. “All fucking day, pictures of you two have been tagged on Insta.”

“I came with him to see Kika,” you whispered.

“Your model friend?”

“Yeeeeah,” you drawled, attitude lacing your tone. “They’re dating. Pierre and Kika. In a suite down the hall.”

“I didn’t see her in any pictures with him,” he murmured as he sat back on the bed and dragged a hand down his tired face. “It looked like you and him were…the comments…”

“Things are new for them, they’re not ready to go public yet,” you said as you cupped his jaw and saw the circles beneath his eyes were darker than last week. “You’re the only man I’m interested in. Even when you are overbearing and possessive, and showing up in my room at,” you looked at the alarm clock on the nightstand, “3am.”

“There weren’t any flights or I would have been here earlier.”

He let you pull him down beside you and his arm fell into place around your waist where it belonged.

“You’re an idiot,” you said as you kissed his jawline. “But you’re my idiot.”

His chest bounced with a laugh before he turned his head to capture your lips and his hand started to drift up your camisole until you pulled back with a yelp.

“I’m going to kill him,” Danny promised as he pushed you into your back and carefully pulled the top away and saw the two metal bars catch the lamp light. “I can’t believe he got to see these first.”

“He didn’t ‘see’ them, not like this,” you corrected as his fingers inched closer to the temptation. “This is all for you, babe, only you.”

“Ugh, I want to play with them,” he grumbled as he nipped at the supple skin of your breasts, careful not to hurt the healing piercings. “When can I touch them?”

“Not soon enough,” you said, equally frustrated with the wait as your nipples began to harden and tingles spread around the metal as they stiffened to peaks. “You wouldn’t believe how good they feel.”

“Don’t tease me, kitten, I’m too on edge. It was a long drive fuelled with anger and energy drink.” His voice was husky in your ear and it woke your body, your leg curling over his hip to pull him closer. “I don’t know how rough I’ll be.”

“It’s been a week, Danny. I don’t care what you do to me, just don’t make me wait.”

You rolled your hips against him and felt his jeans straining to contain him. You saw the moment he lost control, his pupils blowing out with desire and he gave into the primal need to own you. He needed the reassurance that you belonged to him and you just needed to feel him.

“Please, fuck me. I’m yours, Danny, please…”

“Fuck,” he moaned as he ground his jeans against the thin fabric of your panties. “You’re mine, and I’m going to make sure the whole world knows it from now on.”

Click here for part three.

Tagging: @mloyer @moonvr @copper-boom @yunnie-f1 @ophcelia @lightsoutletsgo @alwaysclassyeagle @neiich @omgsuperstarg @galenna @idkmanthisiskindacool @starwarssavy23

#daniel ricciardo x you #daniel ricciardo smut #daniel ricciardo imagine #daniel ricciardo x reader #daniel ricciardo fanfic #formula one imagine #formula 1 fanfic #formula one fanfiction #f1 smut #f1 rpf #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine

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teatreeoilll · 4 months

Text

|| Selfish (Gojo Satoru X Reader) ||

(Reposted from my old blog which I don't have access to anymore (thanks Tumblr), if you liked it reblogs or likes would be appreciated to get me back on track since I've lost all my followers and half my work :(

In which Gojo is so protective over reader she's sure he hates her. Couldn't be further from the truth, but how would you know it without some good old-fashioned over dramatic angst?

TW: mentions of smoking and blood.

"He hates me. I swear, I know it sounds like I'm exaggerating..." You catch yourself muttering on the steps leading to the training field. The breeze tickles your skin, you cast your shoes aside to change them to trainers. "I didn't even have time to go back to my room and change. All day it's do this, go get that… I swear, Kyoto sounds like a great idea these days."

Nobara sits beside you, her look shifts to your shoes, "Where'd you get those? I never saw them in this color before."

"Kugisaki!" You plea, "I'm serious, please. Gojo hates me. How does it make sense that I'm stuck in damn Grade 2 for the past year and half?"

"Maybe," She takes her phone out to take a picture of your shoes, "You're just not as good as you think?"

"Oi, Kugisaki, don't talk to your elders like that!" Yuji's voice butts in, he sits with a thump on the stairs next to you. "But I can't imagine Gojo-Sensei hating anyone. Especially a teaching assistant. It makes no sense."

It really does make no sense, you drowned your face in your palms. How are all these kids supposed to take you seriously when they see you humiliated daily? Rejected from missions. Stuck on the same Jujutsu-Grade as the second year students for so long you've lost all hopes of ever advancing anywhere. Forever a teaching assistant, a mere substitute teacher for the times when the truly powerful had more important things to do.

Disheartened, you've reduced to sharing your feelings with first-years before training. "Alright, pair up. We haven't got all day!" You get up from the steps, trying to pick up the remains of your self-esteem.

Dusk crept over the surrounding trees. You've been watching the students for hours now, noticing how through each change in their pairings they've gotten better and faster. Familiar feelings loomed over you. That's it. That has to be it. Another day of watching these kids surpass their own limits so simply will surely be the end of the line.

You marched straight into Gojo's office, not even making an effort to change to something not drenched with sweat.

"We will not have that conversation again," the white haired man didn't even bother to look up from his phone. It's true, you've had this conversation every couple of months - and you've always received the same unsatisfying answers.

"You're right," you found yourself standing straight across from him, the palms of your hands hitting the desk in between you a little too hard.

"Careful with that, it's expensive." He says. You stare at him in silence. How is it, that with all the anger you hoped he'd notice you've directed at him, he wouldn't even avert his gaze from his phone for one minute?

"Saturo, I've -"

"First name basis, are we now?" Another smug smirk sent your way, your cheeks began to burn.

"I think first name basis may be appropriate, since I've decided to transfer to Kyoto." Oh god, when was that decision made? You've always liked Tokyo, the proximity from the city made all your futile efforts here worthwhile. But it was too late to back down. Gojo's hand reached to his blindfold, one blue eye peeks at you.

"Alright, good luck then." The blindfold snapped back on, his attention returned quickly to his phone.

"Good luck then," you mutter to yourself, walking back through the darkening corridors to your room, "Good luck then, huh?" It's been over five years now since you've first arrived in Jujutsu High, was good luck then all that he could say? What a fucking -"

"Emergency!" A voice rang through the building. Oh god, what now? You think, with your eyes set on your room to wallow the evening in your newly made terrible decision.

"Someone! Please!" Your legs carried you before your reasoning did. Through the curves of the hallways, straight to the first-year's rooms.

"It's Yuji," Kugisaki looked at you, panting, "He tried to pet Megumi's divine dog. I don't think the dog liked it."

Yuji held out his arm. After a thorough inspection, it was just a scary looking graze on his forearm. He muttered to Nobara it wasn't much to fuss about, the blood smearing on the sleeve of his uniform. "It's nothing bad, we'll tend to it any way to avoid an infection," you prompted him to get up from his seat, "I think Shoko's still in the infirmary."

You sat on the infermary bed, with Yuji already on his way back to his room you'd found the time to share your troubles. Shoko sighed, fumbling for a lighter through the things on the tray next to her. "Shoko, I'm going to Kyoto."

She lit her cigarette, the smell of smoke suffocating the small room. "That's nice, when will you be back?" She asked, huffing smoke in the direction of the open window.

"I don't think I'll be back for a while. Or at all, actually." She dragged a chair to the side of the bed, watching your fingers tap on the fabric.

"I wondered when you'll finally do that. You spoke to Satoru again, didn't you?" A sigh escaped her lips. She'd rarely admit to liking spending time with anyone, but the occasion seemed to call for it. "I'll miss you. That prick always thinks he's doing the right thing."

"I hardly think it's right to deny promotions from anyone for so long. He made sure I was so busy that I could hardly find the time to go on missions." Shoko weighed her words carefully, tapping carefully on the ashtray, removing the ash residue from her cigarette.

"It's because he'd never tell you how scared he is for something to happen to you. It's still selfish, don't get me wrong there - but I think he's far too afraid of something happening that it has become easier for him to sabotage you. I told him repeatedly to stop but he just -" Her words cut off by a knock on the door.

"Ieri! You there?" Gojo's impatient knocking had turned frantic. "The lights are on, Shoko. Open up!" Your eyes shot up at Shoko, speak of the devil. The handle turned lightly.

Gojo entered the room, turning straight to Shoko, not even looking at your direction. You'd managed to quickly find an excuse to leave, struggling to believe that's the same man who'd do anything out of concern for you. You closed the door, fingers lingering on the round handle, thinking how wrong it would be to eavesdrop while pressing your ear to the door.

"You know she's really leaving, right?" Shoko's distant voice lectured. "That's on you for acting selfish, Gojo." As you thought, he said nothing. Quickly diverting the conversation to something relating to a mission, another one you weren't supposed to be a part of. Perhaps it was wrong to eavesdrop. You stepped away from the door to turn to the direction of your room. Finally, some good wallowing time.

By the next morning, you've already made all the necessary calls. Wishing somehow it would be harder to convince the higher-ups of your sudden move, but it seemed that help was welcome anywhere, and work always needed to be done.

With your bags half packed, you were almost ready to say the sudden goodbyes to the students. The nostalgic look on every part of your room had already taken over, the final time of staring at that crack on the ceiling, the final time of covering that old coffee stain on the nightstand with a small glass whale statuette Gojo brought from one of his trips. Perhaps it's better to leave it there.

You gathered your nerves, opening the door, just to watch the tall white haired man pace from side to side in the hallway. "Did I forget something?" Your hand held the door open. He jumped up a bit from the sudden voice.

His pacing slowed, he took a step towards you, you gulped at the narrowing distance between your bodies. "I - spoke to Shoko. I think I got carried away, you don't have to leave on my account." The words felt empty as he said them, Shoko must have chewed him out well yesterday.

"You know Go-," You inhaled, "Satoru, not everything happens because of you." He dropped his sunglasses further down on the bridge of his nose, his blue eyes piercing through you. You hardly ever saw him without his blindfold, his stare sending shivers down your spine.

"Shoko was quite adamant it's all my fault, So I thought I better -"

You laughed, "Shoko was also quite adamant that all this time you just cared about me, so I guess even smart people can be wrong sometimes."

"But I do." His hand brushes through his hair, just for it to fall over his eyes again.

"Funny," you snarl, he studies your expression silently. You've taken advantage of that silence to continue, "So all these years you were just protecting me from dying? I thought sorcerers had accepted that fate when walking in here."

"Some things are worse than death," A solemn look takes hold of his face, you could have sworn the color of his eyes darkened.

"Do you take me for such a weakling?" Your tone of voice already deeming the conversation as pointless.

"I never said that. I think you care, perhaps too much. I would never want to see you sacrifice yourself over anything." The joyless tone of voice was far from his usual demeanor.

"Well, now you wouldn't have to see me at all." Your nerves had gotten the best of you. You hardly meant to say it, but as the words were spat out of our mouth, it seemed inappropriate to back off this course of action.

"You're not listening to me, (Y/N)" He could hardly cover how irritated he was, his hand gripped your forearm, pushing you towards him. His breath stroked your face, "I would never want something to happen to you, but you seem to be pushing towards it all the time. Aren't you happy with the students? Why do all of you have to go running around searching for burdens to carry when you don't have to?" His fist contracts tighter around your arm. His teeth clench to stop another flow of words he'd regret later on.

"Satoru, who's all of us?" In your voice a sense of shame, an empty pit has formed down at the bottom of your stomach, his eyes still fixed upon you. The same feeling of being scorned as a child, a tough love you'd thought would pass you by at this age.

"Aren't you happy?" he questions you again, you wiggle your arm as a sign of pain, even as he lets it go you still feel the marks that his fingers left there.

"I am, It's just that -" He couldn't let you go on for a second longer, his lips pressing firmly against yours, your breath sucked away by his tongue. A long minute passed, your hand had found a happy place inside his hair, his arms had restricted your movement and emitted safety all together.

Just as he'd stopped for a breath, you'd decided it'd be far too hard to continue the conversation if this went on.

"I'd like to not be hindered, Satoru," you wiped the wetness of your lips with your sleeve, "Nobody comes to Jujutsu-High to be protected, they come to protect. If I can't do it when you're there, I'll go." You watched his face change, his mind racing behind the sunglasses.

"You can do it here," A piece of sadness was left in an otherwise tranquil voice.

"Good." Your smile had reminded him to breathe, "Now," you mused, "Would you mind kissing me like you're angry again?" His laughter lifted the tension from your body,

"Oh - Dirty," The familiar smirk had settled down the final waves of emotion.

"Not a word, Shoko." You pleaded to her again.

"If you don't want the school talking about it, then don't have your arguments in the hall." She took a long drag from her smoke, "Would you mind kissing me like you're angry again?" She imitates you silently, chuckling under her breath.

"Shoko, I'm begging you!"

#jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo X reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x y/n #jjk x you #gojo satoru #jujutsu gojo #satoru x reader #gojou satoru x reader #gojo X you

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celtic-crossbow · 7 months

Text

A Sting in the Way You Kiss Me

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Early Alexandria

Warnings: Poorly written, raunchy smut, Dom/sub dynamic, p in v, fingering, oral sex (f & m receiving), prostate stimulation

Summary: You and Daryl take the next step in your relationship. And it’s a big step.

A/N: Lawd, this took forever! I’m not 100% happy with it but happy enough to call it complete. I think I like Sub!Daryl. I’m sleepy now so I’ll proofread and fix errors tomorrow.

Daryl Dixon made you feel powerful.

Given his nature, you could never be sure if it was intentional. From day one at the quarry, he was rude, standoffish, and vulgar. You found him difficult to tolerate, but hey, you didn’t get to choose the people with which you had survived an apocalypse. It was a random twist of fate that had brought you all together. Better to just make the best of it.

So, you did. You made it a priority to get to know everyone in your group, saving the Dixons for last. Merle, you quickly surmised as a lost cause. Women, to him, were meek and fruitless, destined to die without a big strong man to ensure they were protected, fed, and bred like cattle to repopulate the earth.

You found Daryl to be a tad more reserved. He only offered his opinion—usually loudly and to include several swears—when the conversation revolved around an important topic that would directly affect him or his brother. He otherwise attempted very hard to keep to himself. So when you began to follow him around, he naturally bucked against the idea. Still, you saw potential there and persevered.

You took an interest in the things he was doing, namely hunting and trapping. He was a skilled tracker and a marksman with his crossbow. You started small, asking how the weapon worked. He had been skeptical and scrutinized you for sincerity, all with a glower in the span of five minutes. It was only uphill from there.

When Daryl began to teach you his trades, he made sure you learned by doing. His only praise for getting something right was usually a curt nod and a “that’ll do.” By giving you weapons, having you track a buck that would feed the group for days, spear a fish, and skin and clean your own kills, he had put power in your hands. He had single-handedly molded you into a force that could survive in the new world.

When it came to walkers, Daryl somehow knew things that others didn’t. “S’gotta be the brain! Don’t ya’ll know nothin’?!” You knew. Thanks to him. You had spent a lot of time in the woods, the perfect place to learn how to take down the undead. It was virtually impossible for them to sneak up on you. Too many ways to make noise if you weren’t actively trying to be silent. Once again, a weapon had been placed in your hand and you were thrown to the wolves…erm…walkers. The difference between this and hunting, you noticed, was that Daryl was never too far away with his own weapon ready. He knew how to make you feel independent without wagering your safety.

The months and tragedies continued to pass slowly, each profound in their own way. Surviving was top priority and to continue to do so as time marched on became more and more of a victory. You lost people and homes, each leaving a mark on your soul that would never be erased, chipping away at your humanity bit by bit. Surprisingly, it was Daryl who kept you grounded.

By the time you arrived in Alexandria, things between you and the archer had evolved into something just short of a romantic relationship. You had been sharing space with him for months now, falling asleep warm in his arms every night. You would show him affection in front of your friends and, though he scowled and grumbled, he accepted it. Kisses alternated between slow and passionate and long and needy, each accompanied by intimate touches that never seemed to go far enough.

Today, you had been helping him with the bike Aaron had gifted him to keep him busy. He had shown you back at the prison how to make repairs, along with the correct name and function of each part. He was sitting beside you while you both diagnosed what could be causing the thing to sputter and die randomly. Your eyes were drawn to his muscles when he would tighten a bolt, and more than once, you had caught his gaze roaming up the length of your bare legs until he reached the hem of your shorts and quickly looked away.

It was becoming a problem. An absolute dilemma that was resulting in a pulsing, wet need between your thighs. You chose to ignore it and focus your energy on the task at hand. Daryl, however, decided that he needed the wrench that just happened to currently reside between your lower thighs. When he reached for it, you were unprepared and reacted instinctively. You smacked the back of his hand before you even realized you had moved. He pulled back the limb with surprising quickness, wide blue eyes zeroing in on the red welt that began to form just below his knuckles.

“Shit! I’m sorry!” The words tumbled out of your mouth as you grabbed his hand to inspect it yourself. He let you pull it closer even though it meant he had to lean forward awkwardly. Your fingers brushed over the irritated flesh and before you could stop yourself, you pressed your lips to the mark you had left. A chance look from under your lashes showed he still wore the wide eyes, but the brilliant blue was merely a thin ring around his dilated pupils.

‘Oh.’ Could it really be? You had honestly thought Daryl just wasn’t into sex since the world ended. He had never made a move, never given you any indication that he was waiting for you to make one. Sure, your make-out sessions would get pretty heated, but honestly, things were always too hectic or dangerous for anything more. Maybe, just maybe, now that your family was safe behind the walls here…

You knew Daryl had lovers in the past. It was a topic of conversation once during a night watch before the prison had fallen. Your head was on his shoulder as you recounted — in more detail than he had liked, if his growls and grunts had been anything to go by — your average-size list. When it had been his turn, he hadn’t been as forthcoming as you but you at least surmised that he knew his way around a pussy if ever the opportunity presented itself.

On a whim, you flipped his hand and let your lips whisper over his wrist next, drawing up your legs to sit on your knees. He still didn’t stop you while you moved up his arm with hot, open-mouthed kisses and kitten licks. Eventually, you needed to skip over his clothed shoulder (for now) and his neck became your next target. He leaned back slightly when you threw a leg over both of his to straddle him, unleashing an onslaught of attention over his carotid pulse. His breath hitched, his palms hovering over your hips but seemingly not yet willing to touch you. You would use that to your advantage at some point.

Salt, smoke, and earth were mingling on your tongue. “I like how you taste.” You whispered in his ear, smiling against his skin when you felt him shiver. You leaned back to bring your face in front of his, fingers grabbing his chin when he started to look away. “I think we need to go to your room.” He swallowed hard, his Adam's Apple bobbing.

You stood straight up from where you were on his lap, leaving your feet on either side of his hips and the apex of your thighs directly in front of his face. Once again, he tried to look away. “Don’t.” You ordered before you thought better of it. To your surprise, he stopped short and turned back, even as he scowled from being bossed around. ‘Oh.’ The things he told you without saying a word. “Don’t keep me waiting, Dixon.” You stepped back and then over, swaying your hips more deliberately than usual as you exited the garage.

You didn’t turn to see if he would follow. If you were reading him right, he would.

And you were about to have the time of your life.

Entering the home you, Daryl, and Carol shared, you passed the staircase that led up to your room and stepped into the kitchen to grab a bottle of water. You probably had a good ten minutes before Daryl would stop pacing the front porch and actually come inside.

Descending the stairs from the kitchen, you opened the basement door and flipped the light switch. Even though you had separate rooms, you spent more time in his room than your own. The things you used most were down there. You slept there. Nothing was really going to change if this happened, right?

Pursing your lips, you shook the thoughts away and placed the water on the nightstand, twisting the switch on the small bedside lamp. After you turned off the overhead light, satisfied with the subtle glow left behind, you grabbed the bottom of your shirt, pausing just before you were going to lift it over your head. No. You’d stay dressed for now. Your boots came off, along with your socks, and you sat on the edge of the mattress and waited. Sure enough, after a little less than ten minutes, you heard the slow, heavy footfalls descending the stairs.

He must have needed another moment because there was a silent span of about fifteen seconds before the door slowly opened and Daryl entered, already gnawing on his thumbnail.

“Hi.” You beamed, crossing your legs and leaning back. The bowman nodded minutely, looking so adorably uncomfortable that you came close to calling the whole thing off. You did need to ensure this is what he wanted. If it wasn’t, you could live without it. You had him and he would always be enough.

When he closed the door and didn’t take another step, you rose to your feet and walked toward him, adding that extra sway to your hips. It was a pleasure in and of itself to watch him watching you. When you were close enough, you started by pushing the open vest off his shoulders, smiling when he dropped his hand from his mouth to let the garment fall from his arms to the floor.

“Daryl.” You purred his name, and his eyes found yours instantly. “I need you to answer some things for me, and I need you to use words.” You worked at the buttons of his shirt agonizingly slow. “Can you do that for me?” He nodded. You shook your head and tutted. “Words, Dixon.”

“Yeah.” He answered immediately in a quiet tone.

“Do you want me?” A button came free.

“Yeah.”

“Do you know that I want you?” Another.

“Yeah.”

“Will you let me be in control tonight?” Your fingers paused when he hesitated. “You don’t have to—”

“Yeah.” He may have hesitated but his answer sounded certain.

You smiled. “I’m going to give you a safe word. If at any time, you’re uncomfortable or you need or even just want me to stop, do you promise me you will say that word?” Another button opened. You had zero intention of going very far, but it would never hurt to establish rules when you wanted so badly to play with him. And he was letting you. You feared getting carried away in the heat of the moment, and his safety and comfort were the most important thing in the world to you.

Daryl inhaled sharply and nodded, following quickly with a mumbled “yeah.”

“And if at any time, you can’t speak and want me to stop, will you double tap somewhere on my body to let me know?”

“Yeah.”

“Good boy.” You felt his sharp inhale beneath your fingers while you finished with the buttons, opening the shirt but not removing it. You could see a few of his scars like this. Not wanting him to grow self-conscious, you stepped into him, tracing one with a gentle fingertip only to follow with your lips. “You’re beautiful. Has anyone ever told you that?” Daryl shook his head. “Daryl.”

“No.” He whispered.

“Well, you are.” You let your finger continue upward to stroke his jaw before abruptly turning away. “First thing’s first.” When you reached the bed, you turned back to him. “The safe word is chupacabra.” A flicker of annoyance was immediate in his eyes. “Say it.” Your tone remained no-nonsense.

“Safe word’s chupacabra.” He drawled, trying not to sneer.

“And what do you do if you need to stop and you can’t speak?”

“Tap on ya twice.” The archer replied almost immediately.

You cocked a brow at him. “Good. I need you to understand that I will never be upset or disappointed if you need things to stop. Ever.”

“Alright.”

You smiled at him fondly. “Good. Now, come over here and undress me.” There was that hesitation again as his eyes raked over your body, pausing at every curve just long enough to let you know he was appreciating what he saw. Finally, he stepped toward you. Once he had reached you, he again paused. You let him. He had touched every part of you before through your clothes. This was the first time he would see you bare.

After a few moments, he reached for the bottom of your shirt while you raised your arms above your head. The garment was pulled from you and tossed aside. Your bra wasn’t anything special. Something you had grabbed on a run a few months back; white and at least one cup size too small. You decided to do this part for him, unfastening the clasp at your back and removing the thing yourself. Daryl didn’t seem to mind, his gaze lingering on the newly exposed skin. Men and boobs, a tale as old as time.

“Shorts.” You stated simply, a smirk firmly plastered on your face when he snapped out his daze and met your eyes. There was a slight tremble to his hands as he reached for the button, his eyes narrowed. You watched him and he watched what he was doing. Button open, he dragged down the zipper, and his eyes flickered up to yours. You gave him a nod.

His thick fingers dipped inside the waistband at both hips, but just as he started to pull, you interjected. “Panties, too.” You heard the shaky inhale as he adjusted his hold to grip your underwear as well, lowering to one knee as he pulled both garments down your legs. They were quickly shed and kicked to the side and your hand found the top of his head when he made to stand. “I think I like you there.”

Daryl tilted back his head to see you, taking the hint and lowering his other leg so he was fully kneeled.

“Good boy.” You breathed, feeling a pulse between your legs. You had wanted to do a few other things with him before really jumping into the fun bits but your needy cunt simply would not be denied. The mattress dipped as you sat in front of him, spreading your legs in an obscene display just to gauge his reaction. The blush that crept across his cheeks should have been adorable but only served to stoke your arousal. “Come here, Daryl.” A few feet separated the two of you, so it was only natural for him to assume you wanted him to stand.

That isn’t what you wanted at all.

“I didn’t say get up.”

The archer paused halfway. The look he sent you had you wondering if this was where he would end this game. He’d say ‘fuck this’ and do things his way, pounding into you until you were red and sore and screaming his name through your release. The thought was appealing.

You arched a brow when he lowered back to his knees, a quiet curse on his lips. Would he do it? The minute he leaned forward to place one palm against the floor, you thought you might cum then and there. Daryl Dixon was crawling toward you because you told him to.

He stopped just short of your spread knees, one of your legs coming up to rest on his shoulder. He looked over at it but quickly turned back to you.

“Closer.” As soon as you could, you started digging your heel into his back, urging him onward until his warm breath was wafting over your core. You bit your lip, reminding yourself of the role you were playing. Your first instinct was to beg him to touch you. No, not tonight. He’d have his turn. The thought of Daryl taking charge sent another sharp pang of arousal straight to your center, your cunt clenching around nothing. The way his eyes left your face and focused on the wet mess between your legs confirmed that he had noticed. You had to reel this in if you wanted to continue. Clearing your throat, you placed your other leg across his other shoulder. “I can’t decide if I want to feel your mouth on me or those fingers inside of me.”

You tapped your chin, feigning deep thought. You had every intention of utilizing both of those delicious options. Dropping your hand, you rested back on your elbows. “Let’s see how good you are with your tongue first.” Daryl gave you a look that would have melted your panties clean off had you still been wearing them. Goddamn, he was handsome, even more so when he was showing some confidence.

Before your mask had a chance to slip, you felt his fingers spread you open but dare not venture between your lips. Blue orbs stayed on you when he leaned in and pressed his tongue flat against you, dragging it from opening to clit before pulling back to repeat it. The second drag ended with the tip swirling around your bundle of nerves. Sparks of pleasure jolted from where he touched you. You could feel it coursing through your veins like lightning, burrowing deep in your lower belly.

He paid special attention to your clit, taking his sweet time alternating between flicks and swirls of his tongue to gentle sucking to grazing his teeth over it with just enough pressure to make your head fall back and your fingers tangle in his hair. Then he moved down, lapping at your opening with the same attentiveness, the wet slurps and appreciative hums pulling the knot inside you tight. When he dipped his tongue inside, pumping in, out, in and then wiggling it against your inner walls, you were already close to orgasm, panting and pulling against his scalp helplessly.

He was moving back toward your clit and you knew if he made contact, you would spiral. Not a satisfaction you were ready to relinquish to him. “Stop!” You ordered breathlessly. He almost didn’t, the brat. His breath hit hard against the sensitive nub but he didn’t touch it. “I want your fingers inside me.” You kept your head back, staring at the ceiling. “Nowhere else.” Your climax had receded but it wouldn’t take much to call it back.

You never had a problem cumming from penetration only, but it took time and effort. It would give you a moment of reprieve to gather yourself and draw this out a little longer.

Or would it?

You were wet enough for his middle finger to easily slip inside, the feeling of your walls pulling him in further earning a drawn out moan from somewhere deep in your chest. You raised your head to look down the length of your body. Thank whatever deity that Daryl was watching his digit move in and out of you instead of meeting your eyes. He felt so fucking good.

Your legs pulled toward you, leaving your ankles balancing on his shoulders and your thighs opening further. You couldn’t fucking help it. “Another.” You demanded and he immediately obliged, drawing his finger nearly all the way out so that his index finger could join the onslaught. “Mmm, so good,” You praised. Your hips began to roll in time with the slow thrusts of his hand, the hot coil that was low in your belly getting tighter and tighter.

The sounds that filled the room were a testament to just how soaked you were, and they were only becoming more prominent. It was no longer about how long you could keep this up. Your body ached for release, your mind too clouded in a euphoric fog to care.

“Make me cum.” You looked down again and his eyes met yours as he lowered his head, drawing your clit into his mouth. He sucked the swollen bundle and flicked it with the tip of his tongue, his fingers curling each time they pushed inside of you and tapped that sweet, soft spot that had your toes beginning to curl.

“Yes, yes, right there. Don’t stop!” And he didn’t. He increased his efforts, humming around your clit. “I’m gonna cum!” You had no more than uttered the words when the coil inside you snapped and released wave after wave of intense pleasure; a wildfire of sensation burning through you while you cried out his name and pinned him against you with your thighs. Daryl didn’t let up, collecting all you offered as your cunt pulsed around his fingers.

“Shit,” you murmured, your body going limp. Fingers carded through the archer’s hair while he pulled free from within you. He directed the digits toward his lips. “Let me.” The command came out breathless and shaky, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Daryl appeared almost sad that he was losing that last taste of you, but he did as he was told and leaned forward to press his fingertips to your bottom lip. You sucked both digits into your mouth, your eyes fluttering closed.

“Goddamn.”

Your eyes peeled open to find the bowman watching you intently, those blue pools brimming with desire. You smirked and made a show out of opening your mouth and letting your tongue sweep across his skin, gathering every drop of your nectar. The man looked as if he was going to jump your bones. He was trembling from restraint, among other things, you were quite sure. With a hum, you pulled your mouth away.

“Stand up.” The authoritative tone was back now that you were focused on a new goal. Daryl blinked, arousal replaced with irritation. His scowl deepened but once again, he obeyed. Rising up onto your elbows, you watched him stand, flexing his fingers at his sides. Using the ball of your foot, you pressed into his groin, against his obvious desire. The archer hissed through his teeth but he dared not move.

“Take off your clothes, Daryl.”

A smile crept across your face at how quickly he began following that command. His shirt was shrugged off in seconds and you couldn’t even be sure when his boots and socks had been removed, but you pressed your foot into him again when he reached for his belt. He stopped with a grunt.

“Slower.”

If looks could kill, you’d soon be a walker. His hair blew away from his eyes with each hard exhale through his nose. Once again, you wondered if this was where your fun would end. And once again, he surprised you and began to follow your instructions. Your foot fell away once he had worked the belt loose and popped open the button. Your eyes tracked the downfall of the zipper, only barely concealing your excitement.

His pants fell first and the regret of not demanding he remove those and his boxer- briefs simultaneously was immediate. Though his underwear left very little to the imagination in his current state. You met his eyes for a moment and raised a brow to urge him onward.

“Don’t get shy on me now, Dixon.” You teased. Moving up onto your knees at the edge of the mattress, you barely waited until the last garment was kicked aside before your hands were on him. You wanted this experience to be positive for him, and while you had so, so much planned for him tonight, taking a moment to just appreciate how stunning he was wouldn’t hurt. Your lips found the skin just above his clavicle, sucking gently.

“You’re fucking gorgeous.” You whispered before dragging your tongue up the length of his neck to his jaw. “Sometimes, I can’t believe you’re real. And you’re mine.” Your hand wrapped around his cock just as your mouth pressed against his, allowing you to swallow the delicious whimper he offered at the new contact. You kept your grip loose, pumping him at a tortuously slow pace. His mouth fell open and gave you the opportunity to delve inside with your tongue, tangling it with his when he responded to the advance. His breath between the intricate dances of your mouths had begun to pick up, an excellent moment for you to pull away completely. Your cunt clenched in response to the whine he emitted. “Be a good boy and sit down for me.”

Daryl moved a little more slowly now, almost cautiously, watching you when you crawled up to the top of the bed to grab both of your pillows. Your feet met the floor just as he sat down. You circled around to stand in front of him, lifting your foot and wedging it between his knees. “Open up, pretty boy.” The archer snorted quietly as he complied. The pillows fell between his feet with a quiet sound, and then your knees dropped onto them. You wiggled a bit to get comfortable and looked up to find him watching with his head tilted and a dark brow arched. “What? I’m shorter than you.”

His mouth formed a silent “oh” and he nodded. The adorable moment almost had you forgetting your role, but you were able to rein in your adoration just before the giggle could bubble up. To bring things back into perspective for him, you raised your hand and whispered the tip of your finger along the vein winding up the underside of his cock. There was a choked off sound, his hands balling into fists on his thighs. You splayed open the fingers of the same hand across his chest and gave a gentle push.

“Lie back.”

There was a deep, steadying breath and then he did as you ordered. Your fingers laced through his on both hands and moved them to the mattress, out of your way but still within sight.

“These stay here.” You commanded without a single centimeter of room for argument. You felt him shifting and just knew he was nodding. “Words, baby boy.” You chose that exact moment to wrap your soft palm around the base of his dick.

“Yes.” He finally answered in a rush of breath. You weren’t certain if he was responding to your words or your touch but decided to forego clarification. He wasn’t going to last long, so you were ready to play with him through that first release. Then your needy cunt could finally get its fill of him.

“So good for me.” You purred. You pushed yourself away from sitting on your heels, bringing you just where you wanted to be. You released him quickly, rewarded instantly with him rising onto his elbows to see what was happening. The urge to reprimand was forced down. This was your first time with him and his first time allowing this. If he felt better watching, you’d let him.

For now.

Palm open, you dragged your tongue from wrist to fingertip, your lustful gaze never leaving his face. The way he watched you sent a surge of wetness dripping from your core. God, you couldn’t wait to fuck him. First thing was first, though. Your hand met his cock again, warm and wet and stroking from base to tip, a twist, and back down. He couldn’t watch you after all. You nearly laughed when he collapsed back onto the mattress with a groan.

Movement in your peripheral had you looking to find his hands returning to where you had placed them. He must have realized he had moved them when he sat up. As a reward, you pumped him a bit faster. When you saw his chest heaving but heard nothing more than the harsh breaths, you found yourself pouting before remembering the power you had.

“You’re so quiet, baby. Don’t you wanna let me know that it feels good?”

He didn’t respond at first, and you wondered briefly if pushing him would be the right thing when he was such a quiet person to begin with. He had taken a lot of shit from you already and this just might be the straw that broke the camel’s back. So, you just moved on with your delectable torture.

Your pace slowed significantly. There was no time for him to investigate, though. Your lips were immediately wrapping around his tip, sucking lightly and lapping at the opening to gather the sweet little drops of pre-cum. Oh, were you rewarded for that move.

His fists white-knuckled the sheets, a guttural moan working its way past his lips. It was the absolute sexiest sound you had ever heard in your life. You closed your own eyes in restraint, almost cumming on the spot. You had to keep moving. Sudden pauses might have him second guessing what he had just done and you most certainly did not want that. He needed to make that noise. Often.

Swirling your tongue around the tip, you pulled him back into the warm cavern of your mouth. This time, your hand slid down the length of him, followed by your lips. He pressed against the back of your throat and had you cursing your gag reflex when you couldn’t hold him there long. It didn’t matter to him, apparently. The simple move had his back arching and his cock twitching against your tongue as you dragged your way back up.

You bobbed your head several more times, delighted in the way he began to writhe and twist the sheets in his fists. You gave him no warning and pulled off with a wet ‘pop’. There was that whine again that had your nethers pulsing.

“Look at me.” You ordered with an authoritative edge to your tone. Daryl lifted his head, still panting through parted lips. “I want to try something. I hope it will make you feel good. But I need you to know that if it doesn’t, you can stop me. Remember what I said. I won’t be upset. Okay?”

He nodded but followed it with a breathless “okay.”

“Such a good boy.” You kissed the weeping tip of his cock, parting your lips to pull him back into your warm wetness. With your hand and mouth stroking him at a steady pace, you knew he was ready to fall apart within moments. His cock began to twitch every few heartbeats. His breathing was uneven and shallow. He was a complete mess and you couldn’t seem to get enough.

You used your other hand to cup his balls, not remaining there long. They were a marker so you could find just the right spot. Starting at the base of his scrotum, you applied gentle but firm pressure, dragging the pads of your middle and index finger back and forth to massage his perineum, stimulating his prostate from the outside. Every ‘ah, ah, ah’ he fed you in response to the new sensation was a sound straight to your pussy. He definitely liked what you were doing.

Once again, however, your greedy little cunt couldn’t be ignored, begging to be stretched and filled. You hollowed your cheeks and sucked hard, your mouth squeezing him all the way up and off. Your tongue slithered out to break the string of saliva that stretched from your lips to the head of his dick. “Mmm, I think that’s enough of that, pretty boy.”

“Y/N.” He whined, keeping his hands right where you had placed them.

“You’ve been so good for me, baby. Move to the middle of the bed.” He complied in eager yet jerky movements, lust blown eyes on your every move as you followed him up. You stopped with your hot center hovering over his groin. “Don’t worry, I’m gonna take care of me and you.” You lowered, grinding against and soaking his cock with your slick. “I want you inside of me. Would you like that?”

“Yeah.” Daryl reached for you but thought better of it and put his hands back on the mattress.

“Look at you. Wanting your hands on me so badly.” You moaned as the tip of him slid over your clit, providing the friction you so desperately craved. “But waiting for permission. Would you beg for it? To be inside me?”

His lips pressed into a thin line. Had you found the limit to how far you could push him? You drove your hips down harder, shifting back and forth, and he pressed his head into the pillow with a hiss.

“Beg me for it. Beg me because I want it just as badly as you do, but you have to be a good boy.” His heart thudded wildly beneath your palm as you caressed the muscular plane of his chest, his muscles twitching and contracting when you scraped your nails over his abdomen. “Beg and I’ll let you touch me.” You dipped toward him, letting your hard nipples touch his heated skin while your lips sucked at the hollow of his throat. “I want to feel you moving inside me, filling me up, Daryl. Isn’t that what you want?”

“Y-yeah.”

You sat up, going completely still. “Then beg.”

You watched as the defiance left his eyes, replaced by pure, unadulterated need. His fingers flexed in the disheveled sheets, his jaw clenching and ticking with how hard he ground his teeth. You smiled as desire beat out pride.

“Fuck, please, Y/N. Wanna touch ya. Wanna—wanna fuck ya. Need ya bad!” His expression morphed into something akin to desperation. “Please!”

“You can touch me.”

He didn’t wait, large hands grabbing your hips; spreading his fingers as he dragged calloused palms up your sides to cup your breasts. You couldn’t help the hitch in your breath when he pinched your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.

“Wanna be inside ya.” He breathed, one hand traveling upward from the swell of your chest. For a moment, you thought he might wrap it around your throat. The thought of him choking you was delicious, sending a warm gush of arousal from your cunt to coat his groin. He groaned and pushed his hips up into you.

“No.” You breathed. “Be good for me and I’ll give you what you want.”

“M’good—let me fuck ya. Please, Y/N.”

You hummed, more than satisfied, bending forward to drag your tongue from his chin to his lips. He opened eagerly, his own dipping into your mouth to taste you with abandon. You reached between your bodies, keeping your mouths connected, and positioned him at your entrance.

“Let me take care of you, baby.” Every syllable was spoken against his mouth, your cunt stretching around him inch by inch, drawing him into your fluttering, wet walls while you swallowed his desperate groans and panting breaths. “Fuck. You feel so good.” You made sure to move slowly, inch by agonizing inch, taking several heartbeats before you had taken all of him.

“God, Y/N.”

“I know, baby.” You were so full, stretched nearly to the point of painful but longing to feel him moving within you. He wouldn’t last long, but you wouldn’t either. You lifted your hips, feeling the drag along your insides in such a way that you needed to bite back a cry. “Oh, god, Daryl.”

His hands settled in a bruising grip on your waist but he didn’t try to move you. You had promised to take care of him and he was letting you. But you couldn’t take it anymore. You began to ride him in earnest, bouncing above him with your head thrown back.

“Goddamn!” He keened through gritted teeth, his eyes screwed shut.

“So—so good.” You felt the heat twisting low in your belly, pooling toward your clit while he throbbed within you. “Touch me, Daryl. I wanna cum with you.” His hands squeezed your hips before he brought one of them to where he was splitting you open, sucking in a sharp breath when his fingertips brushed his cock slipping inside you. He barely had the coherence to drag through your slick up to your clit, but the moment the rough pad of his finger pressed against you, you saw stars.

“M’gonna,” he panted, “gonna cum.”

“Me too.” You leaned forward, shifting into a brutal grind against his pelvis. “Fuck, Daryl!” The logical part of your brain screamed for you to move off of him, that you couldn’t risk him cumming inside you but you were both too far gone.

Your vision whited out just as you heard him shout your name, his finger pressing against your clit harder than you were sure he meant to, but it was just what you needed: that perfect amount of pain to send you toppling over the edge with him. You barely registered the warmth flooding into you with each pulse of his cock. Or the way his hips jerked up while his hand squeezed your hip so tightly that his fingertips turned white.

When you could see, could breathe again, his arms were around you and holding you against him while he struggled to catch his breath.

“Oh my god.” You whispered against his collarbone. You were both covered in sweat, trembling. He was still inside you, drained and softening, when his arms fell away to the mattress. You sat up with a great deal of difficulty, your thighs burning from exertion and your cunt deliciously sore. You’d be feeling this for at least a day or two, and the thought was exhilarating.

You lifted your leg to move away, feeling the mixture of you and him begin to drip out of you but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. Obviously, he didn’t either, his eyes tracking you until you curled into his side. Sated and tired, you smiled and reached up to brush the damp strands of hair off his forehead, watching his eyelids grow heavier and heavier.

“I’m gonna get something to clean us up, okay? And then we’re gonna drink some water. Then you can go to sleep.” When he didn’t answer, you turned his head to face you with a gentle touch against his jaw. “Are you okay?” Daryl took a deep breath, almost as if he had forgotten to breathe before it. “Use your words, baby.” You kept your tone soft, no longer playing a role. It was just you and Daryl now.

“Yeah, m’okay.” He gave you the smallest lopsided smile and you knew he was still floating in that space between reality and euphoria, absolutely fucked out. You couldn’t stifle your chuckle.

“Alright, just stay awake for just a few more minutes.” You patted his chest and then climbed out of bed to fetch a damp cloth. Daryl struggled but he managed to stay awake. He was silent as you worked, wiping away the mess on both your bodies. The sheets would need washed but that was not a problem you’d solve tonight. “Okay, baby, just drink some water for me and we can go to sleep.” If he had any objections to the pet name being used outside of sex, he didn’t voice them.

It took him a moment and a bit of struggling but he managed to rise up onto one arm, letting you tilt the water bottle to his lips for a few long swallows. Then he collapsed back onto the mattress. You drained the bottle and placed it on the bedside table, climbing out of bed one last time to fetch your pillows. The archer was out by the time you returned only a few short seconds later.

You grabbed the duvet and pulled it up over both your bodies before curling into his side, smiling when he unconsciously pulled you closer and pressed a sleepy kiss against your forehead. He was done for then, breathing deep and even, sound asleep.

You watched him until your own eyes could no longer stay open, a muttered “goodnight, pretty boy” before you fell asleep to the thoughts of next time, when he’d be in charge.

#murda writes #daryl dixon #daryl dixon smut #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl dixon fanfic #daryl dixon x y/n #daryl dixon x you #the walking dead #daryl dixon x female reader #sub daryl dixon #sub daryl #dom reader #dom fem reader #Spotify

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munson-blurbs · 5 months

Text

Single Dad!Eddie x Fem!ReaderSeries

Day 3 of TUI-Mas

Warnings: pregnancy, morning sickness/vomiting, food aversions, fatigue, some angst sprinkled in for ~flavor~

WC: 1.2k

Divider credit to @saradika

March 1999

Oatmeal: a delicious, nutritious breakfast food that has been a staple in your diet since you were a child. It hasn’t done anything wrong.

Until now.

The scents of brown sugar and cinnamon always perk you up in the morning; at least, as much as anything can without containing copious amounts of caffeine. Today; however, they waft past your nose and have you hurtling towards the bathroom.

Eddie runs in from the bedroom, his jeans button still unfastened where he’d abandoned getting dressed for work. “S’okay,” he murmurs, rubbing your back as you empty the contents of your stomach into the toilet. Your cheeks blaze with the rush of blood to your face and the shame from being in such a vulnerable position.

You spit the last of it into the bowl and grab a handful of toilet paper to wipe your lips, taking a moment to collect yourself before slowly standing up. Eddie places a warm washcloth in your palm; you hadn’t even heard the faucet running over the pounding in your ears.

“Thanks,” you mumble, pressing the damp cloth to your forehead and taking a deep, shaky breath. This isn’t your first bout of morning sickness–that happened about a week after you received your positive test result–and it likely won’t be the last. Still, you’re surprised at how quickly your husband has adapted to this relatively new routine.

He kisses your scalp, nimble fingers fixing his pants button and buckling his belt. “Are you sure you wanna go to work today?” he asks, concern pinching his brows as he takes in your exhausted form.

You nod slowly, determined to stop the room from spinning. “I already took off twice last week.”

“So?”

“So,” you explain with a sigh, “I don’t want to use up all of my sick days in the first trimester. Not when I’ll have more doctor appointments as I get farther along.” Not to mention the fact that people have started questioning your absences, and you’re not ready to tell anyone the reason just yet. “Besides, I woke up feeling okay; I didn’t throw up until I smelled the oatmeal.” Your insides lurch at the mere mention of the food, and you find yourself hovering over the bowl once more.

Eddie hums knowingly as he runs the washcloth under the water again and wrings it out with a twist of his hands. “Uh-huh. And what if one of your students happens to talk about oat–”

“Don’t say it!” you cut him off as forcefully as you can, fighting your buckling knees as you steady yourself.

He relents, exasperatedly pivoting back to the bedroom to finish getting dressed. There’s little sense in arguing with you, especially with a nosy little boy eating breakfast in the kitchen not even twenty feet away. As far as Harris knew, you’d just been battling a stomach bug, and you and Eddie were both grateful that he hadn’t questioned it further. His response was telling you a…charming story about how his friend Charlie ate three bags of Hot Cheetos before promptly vomiting all over the cafeteria table; an anecdote that did nothing to quell your nausea.

You pull yourself together enough to make it to work. The queasiness subsides as the minutes tick on, though you take your lunch break in your car to avoid any smells in the faculty lounge that could inadvertently trigger another bout of sickness. You half-heartedly go through the motions of story time and arts and crafts, silently promising your students that you’ll have more enthusiasm once your second trimester begins.

By the time you arrive back home and trudge through the door, you may as well be dragging sandbags from your ankles. Exhaustion hits you without warning, your eyelids heavier with each passing second. You drop your keys on the side table and glance over at the clock hanging on the wall. The larger hand has barely ticked past the “6,” which means you have just under a half hour until you have to leave and pick up Harris from his after-school art program.

You don’t even make it to your bedroom, heaving your body onto the couch with a grunt; the stiff pillows have never been more comfortable. The last thought that crosses your fatigued mind is that you can’t sleep for long. If you lay down for a moment…set an alarm for fifteen minutes…

You’re awoken not of your own accord, but by the sound of the apartment door squeaking, the knob thwacking against the wall as though it’s being flung open.

“Thank God you’re okay.” It comes out in one breath, Eddie’s relief palpable as soon as he sees that you’re alive and breathing.

Still groggy with sleep, you push yourself onto your elbows, squinting at the influx of light from the hallway. Why wouldn’t you be okay? You were just taking a nap; it’s only been…an hour and a half?

“Shit, shit, shit!” You scramble to your feet, not even cognizant of the fact that you’re swearing in front of Harris. You take in his tear-stained face, comprehending his thought process before he can even say it aloud. “Har, I’m so sorry. I swear, I didn’t forget about you. I’ve just been really sleepy–”

“Har, can you go to your room for a sec?” Eddie keeps his voice even and controlled, but you can still sense the frustration simmering beneath. He puts his hands on his son’s shoulders and gives a tense squeeze, and Harris nods and somberly obeys.

Your misty eyes meet your husband’s gaze, his jaw steeled as you fumble to explain yourself. “Eddie, it was a total accident! I…I needed to rest…I didn’t think I’d sleep this long…”

He shakes his head, arms dejectedly hanging by his sides. “I asked you not to go to work,” he says softly, teeth digging into his lower lip. “It’s not because I think you’re weak or incapable or anything like that. You just need to take care of yourself.” His voice drops to an even quieter whisper as he walks closer to you, caressing your cheek. “You’re growing our baby, Sweetheart. That’s a pretty big deal.”

“I know,” you murmur, tears leaking from your eyes. “I’m not good at slowing down.” You can usually push yourself to your limits with minimal consequences, but it seems like those days are behind you.

Eddie tilts your chin so you’re looking directly at him. His expression isn’t as hard; a faint smirk of understanding graces his lips. “And I love how driven you are. But your mission for the next nine months—should you choose to accept it—is to incubate Baby Munson.”

“Incubate?” You wrinkle your nose as his phrasing.

“Incubate,” he affirms with a kiss to your nose. “Now, why don’t you go check on Harris, and I’ll start dinner.” His hand rests on the small of your back. “I was just gonna roast some chicken breasts, if that works for you?” It’s a quick and easy dinner that you have once a week.

But it looks like it might be off the menu for a bit; your eyes bulge and your palm flies to your mouth as soon as you imagine the varying textures of meat and skin.

“On second thought,” Eddie mutters, plucking a Surfer Boy pamphlet from the kitchen drawer, “maybe we’ll do pizza tonight.”

#eddie munson #eddie stranger things #eddie x reader #eddie x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson smut #eddie munson angst #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #stranger things fanfic #fanfic #eddie munson stranger things #stranger things #tui #smut

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mishwanders · 7 months

Text

• Astarion Ancunín • Honey Whiskey •

Summary: Astarion’s been irritable due to the lack of blood. It’s time to give him a taste of something he’ll never forget.

A/N+ Warnings: I wanted to redo the prompt I did of Wesker drinking blood from the wrist with Astarion, but I wanted to make it hurt/comfort fluff because he deserves softness in his life. There’s blood drinking, but other than that, it’s safe for everyone. Written by Mishwanders - pls do not repost.

Things had not been easy on you and your companions when you stepped into the shroud of the Shadow-Cursed Lands. The air was thick, and heavy with death, the light was whisked away, save for the blessing of Isobel that protected the Last Light Inn and your party as you stepped through the fog.

However, the dreariness of it all was weighing heavily on the shoulders of your companions and even more so on the pale elf. Finding anything with blood was far and few between amidst the horrors that plagued the land. You noticed how he’d grown more irritable since your arrival to it. At first you had assumed that maybe he was missing the sun again, same as he had in the Underdark, but you began to notice the jars of blood in his tent had diminished quickly and that’s when it dawned on you -

He was starving.

Even after your first encounter with his sharp teeth, Astarion wasn’t one to ask for your blood, no matter how desperately he needed it. So, you took matters into your own hands and marched your way to his tent as soon as the comfort of night fell over your camp.

His eyes bounced, watching your every movement with their frantic motion, trying to figure out why you were approaching him with such determination. He attempted to stand up, but you protested, telling him to stay seated where he was. What in the hells was going on in your head?

You sat down on the stool beside the round table at his tent, gazing upon him as you rested your forearms on your knees. You leaned forward and asked, “You’re hungry, aren’t you?”

He was taken aback by the forwardness of the question and his mouth opened to protest, but he quickly shut it, sighing in resignation. “I am.”

He watched as you immediately began to roll up your right sleeve up to your elbow in response to his answer, hearing you beckon him closer. He tilted his head curiously, but did as you asked. He watched you as still as a gargoyle when you held out your wrist to him and simply requested that he’d have a drink.

The disbelief was written all over his face. You were offering yourself to him? It felt too good to be true. You must have wanted something. Surely you wouldn’t just give this away without there being something he had to give you in return.

He was of a mind to refuse, but the ache in his body and dry ash of his mouth were begging for some relief of his carnal torment. It was not just to crave, he needed it, and terribly so at that.

You held up your wrist to him again, nudging it forward. “It’s alright. I trust you not to drink me dry.”

He was still hesitant, even as his hands wrapped around the length of your arm. “What do you want from me in return?”

“Nothing. I care about you and I want to help.” You replied, “I don’t like seeing you starve.”

Your words hit him, you could see it in his astonished expression, the sad gleam in his ruby red eyes. Being cared about by others was still so foreign to him that he didn’t know how to respond.

You tilted your head with a soft reassuring smile. “You can drink from me or I could ask one of the others if you’re more comfortable with that. I could ask Gale - but I fear his blood might be a bit tainted by the weave.”

Astarion scrunched his nose in disgust at the mention of Gale’s blood. It did taste like bile after all. “No, no, I would much rather have yours. That’s if you don’t mind, of course.”

“I don’t mind at all. I’m all yours. Well, my wrist, that is.” You chuckled.

Astarion hesitated once more as he brought your wrist close to his lips. They parted and you could see the gleam of the moonlight on his sharp fangs. He sunk his teeth into the thin flesh on your wrist, feeling the warmth of your blood drench his tongue, coating his throat as he began to drink. Your blood tasted like the sweetness of honey with the burn of whiskey. He wanted to consume more, get lost in the flavors of you and the gift you’d given him.

It was intoxicating, even more so to know that you had given it freely to him of your own volition, that it was not something that was forced, but out of genuine care for his well-being. Never in his entire life had he known it could be like this, that it could be and taste so sweet.

You sat there and watched, feeling the blood pull from your veins, past his lips, and into his body. You could feel his grip on your arm grow stronger as he drank, see the lines of his face and neck twitch with each desperate consumption of it. Your fingers curled along the edge of his jaw and cheek softly, small strokes of reassurance for him.

His eyes snapped open at the tender touches, at the sensation of your free hand brushing back his hair. He could see the soft smile playing on your lips as you gazed down at him and spoke to him Ik reassurance. “It’s alright, you can have more if you’d like.”

His eyes fluttered shut as he drank more, delving deeper into the taste. Gods, you were delectable, divine. Your blood was ambrosia for the undead and you were willingly giving it to him.

After all these years of suffering, he finally had someone who was willing to give themselves to him without seduction or temptation. He found someone who gave themselves to him because they cared about him and he was not about to give that up.

Astarion unlatched his teeth from your wrist, panting heavily as he tried to regain his sense of control again. He licked the dripping remains from your wrist and his lips before scrambling for a potion to hand you. It wasn’t enough to undo the blood loss, but it was enough to dull the pain.

You could see Astarion trembling where he sat, trying to regain his composure as the blood filled his body with strength and life anew. You moved off of the seat, settling onto the ground next to him. He looked down at you with the hint of worry lingering in his gaze. It wasn’t worry for himself, but rather worry for you and your well-being.

Astarion felt one of your arms wrap around him holding him closer to you while the other gently cupped his face. Your thumb gently caressed his cheek, stroking it tenderly. He didn’t know how to react to the care you were constantly showing him.

You smiled up at him and he could see the gleam of the moonlight in your eyes. “See, I knew I could trust you.”

He leaned into your hand, letting out a sigh of relief. “You are full of surprises.”

“Maybe, but how I feel about you shouldn’t come as any surprise.” You replied. “I care about you, and I will always care about you, even to the end of time.”

Astarion felt your words pulling at him again. Your care would never completely undo the damage that had been done to him, but it was a start. He was like a budding seedling that had begun to sprout up from the darkness of the earth, reaching out towards the light of your warmth. He wrapped his arms around you, burying his head in your shoulder with a simple and soft reply.

“Thank you.”

#astarion #astarion ancunin #astarion x tav #astarion x gn reader #astarion x gn!tav #bg3 fic #bg3 fanfiction #astarion fic #astarion fanfic #astarion x you #astarion x reader #sfe #writing: astarion ancunin #Spotify

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strzlun · 7 months

Text

HIDDEN LOVE

// park sunghoon //

pairing: brother’s best friend!sunghoon x femreader

word count- 4.9k

genre/cws- fluff, slight angst, 1 year age difference, sunghoon falls hard, forbidden love(?), sneaking around, realization, confrontation, kissing, confessions, two people just falling madly in love

summary- Sunghoon’s hidden love wasn’t as hidden as he thought

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Your life took a turn when you marched into your brother’s room one time, angrily having to discuss something with him only to find someone else in there.

Sunghoon admired out your brother’s window but upon hearing your arrival, he turned to face the noise. When he looked at you, the world that once spun for you came to a complete stop.

Your eyes never seemed to leave his and you stood at your brother’s front door until you heard the agonizing voice behind you.

Your brother was quick to shoo you out his room before you could even get a word out to him or even in general. Your gaze still lingered on the stranger witnessing the scene be fold over his eyes. You could notice the amused smirk he had as he saw you trying to shoo your brother away.

Your brother was quick to shut the door on your face once you were out, you deeply sighed before groaning loudly making sure he heard. You weren’t angry at the fact that your brother didn’t even acknowledge you.

You were frustrated with the fact that you weren’t able to be introduced to the memorizing stranger in your brother’s room.

When you were first properly introduced to Park Sunghoon, you could practically feel your heart swelling and entering cloud 9, where it would reside for a longer time than you intended.

The awkward but warm smile he gave you as he shook your hand that you offered, you found yourself falling. You weren’t the type to be intrigued by someone so quickly, let alone fall for them.

So, to your surprise when you found yourself falling for Sunghoon with the frequent times you were starting to seem him lingering around your house because of your brother.

However, him on the other hand had never viewed you anymore than his best friend’s younger sister. Obviously he was kind to create conversation with you or interact with you whenever you were forced to tag along with him and your brother because of your parents or simply because you wanted to (which he never minded either way).

Yet, he was oblivious to the fact of how you practically only kept your gaze onto him and not even to your surrounding. Which would explain the amount of times your brother scolds you to focus on your surrounding.

Sunghoon always found it amusing whenever you and your brother argued with each other, especially when he was present. But he knew deep down your brother cared for you deeply, something that your brother would never admit but Sunghoon would were the endless rants your brother had about you.

He was intrigued by the stories your brother told him, so when he first saw you angrily rambling about a situation as you walked into your brother’s room only to find Sunghoon there instead, he couldn’t help but wonder.

When there was the silence between the two of you, he could notice the slight change in gaze that once lingered in your eyes. He didn’t know what or why the changed happened, but once your brother appeared from behind you and shooed you away, he couldn’t help but be amused by seeing the bickering the two of you had.

Once you were kicked out the room, not only your brother but Sunghoon heard your grumble from the other side. He couldn’t help chuckle softly which caught the attention of your brother, his best friend.

“Was that the famous younger sister you always talk

about?” Sunghoon raised an eyebrow to his best friend who heavily sighed and nodded his head

“Sadly that is her” Now he didn’t even know it was possible, but Sunghoon was even more intrigued by you, he wondered about you the rest of the day he stayed at your brother’s house

But he never indulged in any of the wonders, he kept his distant with you. Truly ever interacting with you whenever you were tagging along or he so happens to run into while he was at your house.

The two of you oblivious to the obvious lingering wonder for the other.

“Why do you have to tag along?” Your brother grumbled as he sat in the back seat of the car, you chuckled at his words before shooing him away

Your brother and Sunghoon were going out to go grocery shopping for your family and somehow you got caught in the moment as Sunghoon offered an invite for you to tag along with them.

Saying along the words ‘If I stay a moment longer with him, I’ll lose my sanity’. You wouldn’t want Sunghoon to lose his sanity over your brother so of course you tagged along.

“You’re always complaining as if you never invite her too” Sunghoon rebutted his best friend’s words which only caused your brother to roll his eyes

“I can see you rolling your eyes” Sunghoon pointed out as your simply waved him off, telling him to focus back on the road

You always found yourself laughing at the banters between Sunghoon and your brother. Yet, you were always oblivious to the sneaky glances taken towards you by Sunghoon.

Whenever you laughed, smiled, giggled or chuckled, Sunghoon always found himself looking in your general direction. He didn’t know why or how he picked up this habit but it was something he couldn’t seem to get rid of so he simply stuck with it.

He simply dismissed it as natural curiosity, nothing more and nothing less.

You and Sunghoon were in an aisle together as your brother had run off to another. You didn’t bother to make your brother stay, you knew whenever he had his attention on something he was set in stone with it.

Sunghoon pushed the cart as you searched for what you were looking for. There were times where Sunghoon would jokingly ram the cart into you, which you would glare at him only to have him chuckle at you.

Sunghoon was going to lightly tap you with the cart to get your attention, but you were quicker than that. Before he could do so, you turned and grabbed the cart before it hit you. Sunghoon and the cart bounced from the impact and he looked to you in amusement.

You were too caught up in the moment to realize that you were shopping with Sunghoon alone. Your brother was no where near insight and you caught his eyes with yours. The familiar thumping in your chest reminded you of the hidden emotions you tried to bury deep down for your brother’s best friend.

The two of you continued to look into each other’s with no words being shared. You nervously gulped down while Sunghoon didn’t seemed to be phased at all, you weren’t surprised.

You believed why would he ever look your way when you were just his best friend’s younger sister.

Suddenly, your brother appeared out of no where and wrapped an arm around Sunghoon’s shoulder feeling the awkward tension.

“What happened?” Your brother raised an eyebrow and you and Sunghoon quickly to deny anything that happened, you decided it would be best to excuse yourself for a moment

Sunghoon was going to follow you with the cart but you raised your hand to signal him to stop. You gave a quick smile, saying that you just had to look for something and that you’d be back soon.

You were gone in a mere second and both Sunghoon and your brother were stunned with your change in attitude. Your brother was quick to face his best friend with a raising eyebrow.

Sunghoon raised his hands in defense, muttering the words of ‘I didn’t do anything’. Your brother hummed and smacked lips against his teeth before taking the lead and walking down the aisle.

Sunghoon didn’t follow him as easy as he followed you. He kept glancing around the store in hopes of finding you where you ran off to. He didn’t know why you always seemed to flee from the scene whenever you were with him alone.

The time you returned, they were already carrying the bags out the store and you appeared beside them. Your brother asked where you were, but you shrugged your shoulders and kept to yourself.

The change in your demeanor was noticed not only by your brother but by his best friend as well. Sunghoon kept silence but the worry growing in his heart was settling at a fast rate.

When you sat in the backseat of his car, he was even more surprised. Usually, you sat in the front seat alongside him but not tonight. Your brother tried to get your attention but you shooed him off stating you simply tired.

Both of them knew that wasn’t the case, but neither wanted to persist if you didn’t want to tell them. Sunghoon and your brother created some conversation in the car to get rid of the awkwardness.

You simply looked outside the window to see the passing scenery as Sunghoon drove. You weren’t ignoring them because of something they had done but rather because of your own running thoughts.

After the moment you had with Sunghoon, you needed to escape in order to calm your beating heart. The realization that settled into your heart made it fall to the pit of your stomach.

You were falling in love with your brother’s best friend and you knew he didn’t feel the same way as you.

You knew you liked Sunghoon and with the progression of these feelings, it could possibly lead to something more, but having the realization in a store wasn’t the most admirable place to realize it.

When the three of came home, you were quick to head to your room not wanting to be in the presence of Sunghoon any longer. Your brother and Sunghoon were beyond confused on seeing your sudden change in mood, but your brother brushed you off while Sunghoon couldn’t.

His mind and heart raced a millions thoughts and he wondered was it something that happened that you weren’t telling them. Yet, the worst one that lingered in his mind, was it something that he did to possible upset?

After that incident, you seemed to avoid Sunghoon like the plague. Whenever he was over, you so happened needed to go out or would be in your room until he left. He was hurt by your actions because one moment you were having a moment then the next moment you act as if he doesn’t exist.

You decided asking the internet on how to move on from your love on your older brother’s best friend wasn’t the best mechanism. But, it was either this or facing rejection from Sunghoon by confessing your feelings.

You knew neither of them would be any good but you preferred protecting your own heart by ignoring him and possibly break it by the rejection.

You needed to prepare but for right now, you’re in no state for it.

Sunghoon was sick of this. It’s been over two months since you started ignoring him and he didn’t know why it bothered him so much but he was at his limit. He didn’t want to pressure you, the last thing he wanted to do was make you uncomfortable.

But he simply couldn’t bear the fact that you wouldn’t even acknowledge him anymore.

He tried to discreetly address it to your brother but your brother brushed it off by saying you were fine and that you interacted with him the same way you used to. That was the indication Sunghoon needed to realize, you were ignoring him only.

He was going to be staying the night, so he hopped that he would be able to catch you roaming around the house in order to talk. He simply wanted to clear the air, that’s what he kept repeating in his mind on constant, he wasn’t so sure if that was the case.

Sunghoon didn’t expect to stay up so late at night, but he waited for any faint movement that would show you came out of your room. He knew this was strange even for him, but he couldn’t bear any longer not talking to you.

He knew he was going to be in for a long night.

His eyes never shut once, he simply looked at the ceiling hoping for any type of drowsiness to take over yet, it never did. What lingered in his mind was you and he couldn’t seem to get rid of it.

The moment he walked out of his best friend’s room, he took a lot glance to your door. It still laid shut just like

how he first saw it since earlier that day.

He sighed deeply and was going to go to kitchen but it seemed his body had a mind of its own. It was quick to walk over to your door and before he knew it, he was lightly knocking on it.

He expected you to be asleep and when he realized what he’s done, he groaned softly before turning around to go back to your brother’s room. But what he didn’t expect was for you to be opening the door.

He turned at the sound and when he saw you at the door, both of your eyes widen. Sunghoon remained frozen for a moment, he was awkwardly standing as he had been caught red handed.

“What are you doing?” Your voice was soft, it wasn’t like how it used to be when the two of you talked but he didn’t mind it

“Um sorry, I’ll come back another time” Sunghoon straightened out posture before walking away, you were going to let him go but your mind screamed

You opened the door wide enough and you found whispering out to him to get his attention. When his name fell from your mouth, Sunghoon felt a sudden sensation in his heart.

He gulped before nervously turning to see you. He doesn’t remember the last he fully saw you, it felt years when it’s only been merely two months.

It was still a long time for him.

Sunghoon awkwardly sat on a chair inside your room. This was foreign territory to him, he had only been in your room one time and it was because no one else wanted to deal with waking you up, so he had to be the one.

He nervously played with his fingers and you took notice of that. Normally, this would have swooned you, but you were more focused on making sure your heart didn’t burst out of your chest.

What could have he wanted so late in the night to the point where he was knocking at your door. You hadn’t spoken to him in over two months, so you could only wondered what this would be about.

“So um” You softly began and Sunghoon quickly cleared his throat and raised his head that was looking at the ground

When his gaze landed onto you, it lingered for a moment longer than he expected.

“Why are you ignoring me?” The question came off rather quicker than either of you had expected, you didn’t expect to be addressed on the situation

Your gaze was the first to leave as it landed onto a random place in your room. You could feel Sunghoon’s eyes never leaving you, you shuffled around a little bit. You were debating whether to ignore it or address finally what’s been in your heart and mind.

“I’ve just been so occupied with things, I didn’t realize I was ignoring you” You mumbled, your gaze still facing away from Sunghoon, he obviously took notice of this

He nodded his head, he could tell you were lying. It was one of things he learned the more you two spent together.

“Well you’re lying” His words caught you buy surprise, you knew you were lying but how did he know that, you let out a scoff which was noticed by him

“Excuse me?”

“You’ve been ignoring me for two months straight, not a single greeting, not even a glance my way. How do you think I feel?” The hint of tone in his voice made you freeze, you’ve never heard Sunghoon like this before

When you stayed silent, you could hear the light groan from Sunghoon before getting up from the chair to make his way over to you. You could feel his presence in front of you, but you didn’t dare to look at him.

“Can you look at me? Please” You gulped down the nervousness forming in your throat before finally making eye contact with him

The thumping in your chest, the fluttering and turning of your stomach, reminded you why you steered cleared of him. You loved Sunghoon.

“Why are you ignoring me?” His voice was tender, afraid if he raised it even louder he would scare you away

“Was it something I did? I’m so sorry, I would never mean to harm or hurt you in anyway. I never want to upset you” You could feel the bursting of your heart, you couldn’t take it anymore

The two months you spent trying to get over Sunghoon was in vain. All he needed to do was show up at your bedroom door to have you falling into the spiral of love.

“You can’t say things like this” You groaned as you walked past Sunghoon and his gaze followed you with worry

“What is it? What did I say?” When you turned to face him, the emotion in his eyes made you sure it was over, you couldn’t hold back anymore

“Sunghoon you couldn’t possibly do anything to hurt me. That’s the problem” He looked to you confused, which was expected, but he wouldn’t be prepared for the confession you were going to give

You weren’t even prepared.

“You can’t say things like that because it’s only going to make me fall in love with you more. I can’t have that. I’m trying to get over you”

“I can’t handle having the thought of you linger in my head everyday. Especially when I know you would never look my way”

“It’s to save myself from the rejection. From the stupid heartbreak-“ You couldn’t even finish your sentence until you felt the crashing of his lips onto yours

Everything had happened to quickly, but you immediately melted into his touch. Sunghoon’s lips were almost desperate, trying to savor the moment as if it were a dream.

He couldn’t handle hearing you any longer saying that he would never look your way. That he couldn’t possibly like you, when you were the only thing in his mind ever since he’s met you.

“Don’t say that” He muttered in the kiss, his hands cupped your cheek, never seeming to let you go

He didn’t know how long you and him have been kissing, but what he did know was that he never wanted it to end. Having you in his arms felt right, seeming to forget that your brother, his best friend was just down the hall.

Yet, to him it made sense. He felt like this was his sole purpose, to be with you and make you happy.

“Don’t play with my emotions Sunghoon” You mumbled as you parted from him and Sunghoon could only chuckle, pampering soft kisses onto your face

This was something you would never expect, let alone kissing Sunghoon. You felt like you were in a cloud soaring through the sky, and you never wanted to wake up if this was a dream.

“Can’t play with them, if I feel the same way” Sunghoon was quick to the reconnect your lips together in glee that seemed to form a bubble of just you snd him

That night, Sunghoon had to leave at the crack of dawn to make sure he wasn’t caught coming out of your room before sneaking back into your brother’s room.

You and him would have to be much more hidden about your growing relationship from your brother who so happened to be his best friend.

You jumped when your brother suddenly barged into your room. You stared at him in confusion and his eyes narrowed down at you.

“Have you seen Sunghoon? I can’t find him” You shrugged your shoulder before snapping your fingers

“I saw him leaving, saying how he was going to run some errands before coming back” Your brother looked at you in shock but pushed it to the back of his head

“Oh really?” You didn’t pick up at your brother’s tone and you nodded your head, he hummed before slowly walking out of your room

“Alright, I’ll just send him a text and see if he could get somethings for us” Once your brother left and he closed the door, you let out the breath you were holding and you could heard Sunghoon’s whisper

“Is he gone yet?” You went over to your closet and that’s when you saw your boyfriend crumbled up, you let out a giggle as he walked out

He groaned lightly getting rid of the hanger that stuck to his shirt. You smiled and helped dust off his clothes and you didn’t realize the soft gaze Sunghoon had on you. He watched you in mere awe and when you looked to him, his smile only got brighter.

“Hi” His voice was soft and you rolled your eyes before walking away back onto your bed, as he followed after you

“I said hi” Sunghoon took a seat on your bed and you smiled before waving to him

“Hi Sunghoon” His smile was bright and laid onto your bed as if it was his own, he loved how comfortable he felt that he could feel his eyes lids becoming heavy

You and Sunghoon have been hiding your relationship from practically everyone for over five months now. You know it should’ve came out much sooner yet the two of you were scared.

Both fearful on how your brother would react to the news. He wasn’t overprotective but you couldn’t possible figure out how he would react to this.

Sunghoon was the most worried out of the two of you, which is practically understandable. He didn’t want to ruin the friendship he had with your brother but he also didn’t want to let you go because of it.

So the two of you had to stick with sneaking around and going out every now and then to have dates. It was ideal but it’s what needed to be done for the time being.

You began playing with Sunghoon’s hair as he laid on your bed. He closed his eyes with a warm smile and you could feel your heart swelling, you never thought a time like this would ever happen. You only imagined that you would admire him from afar, never did you expect to be in a relationship with him.

Unexpected things happen, sometimes you just have to wait for them.

“I could lay here forever” Sunghoon softly muttered but you giggled at his words which caused him to open one and look at you

“Don’t get too comfortable, you have errands to run” And right with your words, Sunghoon’s phone pinged and when he pulled out his phone the two of you could see the list your brother sent to him

He groaned loudly and you tried to console your laughter but it was hard when you saw his reaction. He looked to you as if asking if you could come alone with him but you shook your head.

He groaned even louder and you had to shush him before having your brother barge into your room and catch the both of you. He wrapped his arms around you, wanting to sink in the comforts of your bed.

“It’ll be better to be caught now than having to go the grocery shopping”

He shouldn’t have meant those words literally because not even a moment later, your bedroom door opened and in walked your brother.

“Hey I was wondering if you wanted-“ All three of your remained frozen in shock, you and Sunghoon were quick to separate from each other and sit up on your bed

You could feel the sinking of your heart seeing your brother frozen at your front door. He hadn’t even blinked and only looked between you and his best friend with an agape mouth.

“So um Sunghoon, why aren’t you doing your errands?” Your brother finally asked still not taking his eyes off the two of you, Sunghoon was quick to get off the bed and face his best friend

“Oh um well you see” Sunghoon tried his best to ramble on with an excuse but when none of his words were making sense, your brother raised a hand to stop him

“Why is my best friend in your room and not doing errands?” Your brother looked past Sunghoon to you, you looked at him with confusion and slowly got off your bed to stand next to Sunghoon

Your brother’s eyes widen for a moment before clearing his throat.

“I was okay with the relationship but having to see it is something I’ll have to get used to” Your brother mumbled and that was more than enough to catch both of your attentions

“What did you say?” You question your brother and you could see the scoff bubbling in him before he let it out

“You can’t possibly think the two of you were actually hiding your relationship?” Your brother started to laugh at the thought and you and Sunghoon turned to each other with wide eyes

You waited for your brother to come down from his laughter and when he finally did, you questioned him.

“You knew? For how long?”

“Ever since Sunghoon snuck out of my room to go to yours” Sunghoon nearly fainted at the realization, that was over five months ago when he went to confront to you

You and Sunghoon remained silent for a moment and your brother realized that it wasn’t the best time to catch the two of you. He sighed deeply before rubbing his temple.

“Sunghoon isn’t necessarily good at hiding his love for you” Sunghoon was quick to shoot a glare to your brother for his remark as he only shrugged his shoulders

“Only saying the truth, you would always mention her whenever we were at. Saying stuff like ‘Oh she would like this’ or ‘This would be nice for her’. It was easy to put the pieces together”

“I didn’t want to confront you on it because I wanted to wait until the two of you were ready to tell me”

“I let you guys have your freedom and peace pretending I was oblivious to it even though Sunghoon made it nearly impossible, I tried”

“I genuinely thought Sunghoon was running errands hence why I sent him the list. I didn’t expect for him to actually still be here” Your brother explained and you could only shake your head before groaning, you practically feel Sunghoon emitting remorse for being so obvious

“But you aren’t mad?” Sunghoon finally asked the question the two of you have been waited to be answered

“Of course not. I was a little annoyed having to wait and act oblivious but I realized it was what made the two of you comfortable so it was fine”

“I hate to admit it but I actually care about her. She’s my sister before anything, especially before our friendship. So just don’t hurt her Sunghoon, keep her happy” Your brother put out a hand for his best friend to shake and Sunghoon was happy to firmly shake hands

“I wouldn’t dare hurt her” You found yourself smiling to yourself and that’s when you caught Sunghoon’s eyes with your own, the smile growing on his face was enough for you to grab his free hand into yours

“Definitely try to keep whatever this is to a minimum” Your brother motioned to you and Sunghoon’s intertwined hands and that caused you to laugh

“Got it” With that your brother gave a last genuine smile, which was something you don’t really see often so it was rather nice to witness

When your brother left, Sunghoon was quick to wrap an arm around you before placing a kiss against your cheek. You giggled at his actions and you didn’t realize you giggled louder than how you usually would.

“I said keep it to a minimum! And tell Sunghoon to hurry up and get the list!” Your brother yelled from somewhere else and that caused the two of you to laugh

“I think he’s fine with the relationship” Sunghoon muttered and you nodded your head in agreement

“So you talked about me a lot huh?” You teased and he groaned loudly, you giggled before moving some of his hair away from his face

“It’s cute that you couldn’t seem to hide your love for me” You smiled and Sunghoon scoffed before rolling his eyes

“You’re one to talk about hiding love”

You nodded your head, muttering a small ‘I know’. The rest of the moment was settled with a comfortable silence as the two of you just stayed in each other’s embrace.

You never expected to have Sunghoon as yours but it seems that your hidden love was returned by him and he beyond over the moon to be able to be called yours.

Neither of you knew what would be in store now that your relationship was known but for now, you were to experience it to the fullest with each other.

“It was a good hidden love while it lasted but let’s finally be open mhm?”

#enhypen writer #enhypen #enhypen imagines #enhypen x reader #enhypen oneshots #enhypen fluff #enhypen angst #enhypen fic #enhypen sunghoon #park sunghoon #sunghoon x reader #park sunghoon x reader #sunghoon imagines #sunghoon fic #park sunghoon fic

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mistyacorn · 1 year

Text

don't worry about me

sypnosis; dan heng gets pretty badly hurt after fighting a monster one day and you have to make sure your boyfriend’s okay!

pairing(s); bf dan heng + (trailblazer) gn! reader ⟿ featuring; established relationship, flustered dan heng (hehe), kinda dialogue heavy at the start

❀ wc; 1,585

a/n; ok to explain my inspo, whenever i play hsr and dan heng is dying, i heal the lovely man ofc, and his voiceline literally is "don't worry about me" (꧆▽꧆). anyw this turned out way sappier than i imagined loool

You have just arrived in the Astral Express after a long day of helping Natasha with the clinic. You’re feeling tired, and going around Belebog alone today just added to the exhaustion.

You actually missed having Dan Heng tell you to make rational choices during your quests. Without your boyfriend today, you ended up fighting probably double the enemies you needed to.. Plus, (you’d never tell her this) but you secretly missed March’s bright voice.

Speaking of her, as soon as you step into the parlor car, you’re greeted by the smiley girl. She’s sitting on one of the couches with Himeko, and they wave you over.

“y/n!” She sings, “come look! I took these today.” You approach the pair, greeting Himeko with a friendly smile and look at March’s phone with them.

“See here… this was when we were on the way to Rivet Town!” She shows you guys a selfie of herself grinning widely, with a deadpanned Dan Heng behind her. You and Himeko giggle. “The town was pretty cool. It was all dark and eerie, like some sort of ghost town! I wanted to film for you guys but the place was flooded with monsters so Dan Heng told me to put my phone away and fight. What a party pooper.….”

You smile softly as the girl continues showing you and Himeko pictures she took (and snuck) of herself, Dan Heng, and the town. “Oh yeah! On our way back here, we encountered this huuuge monster. He was big and angry, it was scary!” She widens her eyes. “Thankfully Dan Heng was there! He fought that monster like his life depended on it. Which, it did.”

She scrolls through her gallery and exclaims, “Hey, look! I managed to snap a picture of it before we fought.”

March turns the phone to show you two. The image is a little blurry but you recognise the monster. You’d fought it sometime before, and truthfully, it wasn’t an easy fight. The last time you defeated it, you were fighting with Selee, Bronya, Dan Heng and March. If it was tough for a five person team… just how much harder was it for two?

“It looks really strong, March.” Himeko speaks the words in your mind, “did either of you get hurt?” You turn to March, eyes wide with a little worry.

The girl thinks for a second before shaking her head. “Nope. I’m okay now!” She nods, pausing straight after. A sheepish smile takes over her face. “To be honest… Dan Heng did most of the fighting with that monster, heheh… I was knocked out 3 minutes in…”

You blink, heart beating just a little faster. “Is- is he badly hurt?” You ask.

March replies quickly, “Don’t worry, he said he was alright! Just a few scratches, a little sore.”

Himeko nods. “I did see him before he went to his room earlier, he didn’t look like he was in pain.��

You hum in reply. Dan Heng is strong, you know that. But you knew your boyfriend, and he never shows his pain. Even if he was a breath away from death, he’d still say ‘I’m fine’ with a blank face to anyone who asks.

You decide to excuse yourself to check on him. Nobody knows what state he could be in right now. Bruised? Bleeding? Dead??? (Okay so you are overthinking a tad bit but hey, it’s possible.)

As soon as you get to his room door, you nearly slam it open. You scan the room frantically before seeing Dan Heng, who’s sitting down on his makeshift bed with his back against the shelf behind him.

You immediately dash to his side and study him. In front of him is a box of bandaids, a bottle of antibacterial solution and a bag of cotton balls. He’s holding a soaked cotton ball too. The boy has his shirt off, and you clearly see the bruises and scars on his torso and arms. You can see the little cuts on his face, one or two looking awfully deep. Your eyes start to water at the sight. It must hurt so badly…

“you’re back already?” His voice sounds, making you look up at him. You feel like you can’t talk so you nod. Dan Heng already knows how worried you are of course, as soon as he meets your glistening eyes. He sighs. “y/n, I’m okay.”

You blink, eyes still watering as you furrow your brows slightly. “Are you sure?? It look bad babe..”

“It’s.. not as bad as it looks. Trust me- Ow.” He tries to assure you, although he accidentally winces when you touch on his cheek lightly. You widen your eyes as he closes his eyes and sighs.

“Sorry!” You peep, suddenly aware of every move you make around him. You didn’t want to make things worse.

He shakes his head, eyes fluttering open again. “It’s alright.” He replies, then moves to continue tending to his wounds on one arm. “I just need to- disinfect these.”

You watch him wince between every few words. As he proceeds to clean the rest of his cuts, you stare like a hawk, as if doing that will make the process less painful for him.

Dan Heng clears his throat. You glance up at him again and this time, you can see he looks a little shy. You tilt your head in confusion. “Um…” his eyes flicker and he looks down shyly, “would you be comfortable helping me with the cuts on my back? I can’t reach those.”

Oh! “Of course.” You nod quickly, scooting forward to plant yourself right in front of your boyfriend. You grab a cotton ball and soak it in the antibacterial solution. Meanwhile, Dan Heng turns himself around, back facing you. Secretly, he’s glad he can turn away from you, so he can hide his embarrassment.

Since the start of your relationship, you and Dan Heng have never really been a physical couple. Mostly due to the fact that he’s not the physically affectionate type. He often feel guilty about it. You never complain though, since to you, your boyfriend expresses his love in other ways that are cute and sweet.

Having never been physical, you also haven’t seen him shirtless. So this situation being the first time, Dan Heng feels a little flustered. You, being so focused on making sure his wounds are cleaned properly, don’t realise it at all.

The whole time as you’re disinfecting each wound with care, his cheeks are burning and his ears are bright red. He’s so grateful that you’re too busy to see him like this.

With all that on his mind, he barely reacts to your cleaning. Before he knows it, you’re done.

“Okay, I’m done here.” You announce, sighing in satisfaction. “You can turn around now.”

Dan Heng slowly turns back around, not really wanting to because he can still feel his face burning. You ready yourself with another soaked cotton ball. He glances at it in your hand and furrows his brows, an invisible question mark appearing above his head. “What’s that for?”

You smile softly, eyes filled with nothing but care as you scan the few cuts on his face. “Your face silly, there’s a few.” You point out. You move even closer now, placing yourself on his lap in order to do so. You focus on one scar at a time, tending to it. “Tell me if it’s really bad, okay? I’ll be gentle.”

“…Yeah.” He barely whispers. Now your faces are less than three inches apart. While you are staring at his scars, his eyes are on you and your focused face. His heart is thumping like crazy. Seeing you being so careful with him makes Dan Heng feel warm inside. He feels like he’s falling in love with you even more right there and then.

Besides a little white noise, the room is comfortably silent. Occasionally his breath hitches from the sharp pain but it’s nothing too painful.

There’s one cut left to disinfect, and this one is visibly deeper than the rest. You softly dab on it, but the stinging catches Dan Heng off guard and he flinches. “Sorry baby.” You say softly, an apologetic look on your face. “Just a little more.”

He nods, quietly speaking. “Don’t worry about me. I… It doesn’t hurt.” You simply hum in response. It’s clear that he’s lying. He never wants to cause trouble for anyone, especially for you, and you grin softly knowing that.

Moments later, you finish up by sticking a bandaid on the cut. You can finally breathe a sigh of relief. “There we go.” Your eyes meet his again, and this time you notice the flushed look on his face. You smile confusingly. “What?”

“Um.. you’re- I- uh…” Your boyfriend stutters, barely able to look you in the eyes. You’ve never seen his this flustered before. It takes a moment before it hits you.

You’re sitting in his lap. He’s shirtless. Oh. OH.

“Oh my- sorry!” Your eyes widen, cheeks getting rosy. Dan Heng looks to the side, his cheeks burning, shaking his head to say ‘no it’s fine’. You move to get up from his lap.

In the very moment, Dan Heng doesn’t know what washes over him but he grabs hold of your arm gently to stop you from getting up. Your eyes interlock, both of you flushed. “Thank you for helping me.” His whispers.

And before you can reply, his soft lips are planted onto yours.

#(*ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈) —mistyacorn’s #honkai star rail x reader #hsr x reader #dan heng x reader #danheng x reader #dan heng #danheng #danheng x y/n #hsr imagines #hsr fanfic #honkai star rail #hsr dan heng #dan heng hsr #hsr x you #hsr x y/n #dan heng x y/n

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kisakis-boyfriend · 7 months

Text

Kinktober Day 6: Cockbulge

Pairings: Inui x reader

Warnings: Male!reader, top/dom!reader, demon!reader, sub/bottom!Inui, sorcerer!Inui, size difference, teratophilia, overstimulation, mind-breaking, dacryphilia, blood from neck biting briefly

Genre/Format: Smut; Oneshot

Prompt List by: sakuyaserenitykira 🧡

Author's Note: This ended up being very different from my original concept (and also way longer than intended) but I hope you enjoy what it turned out to be! :D

Keep an eye out for this AU in a future kinktober installment 🤫

Please check my blog title to verify whether requests are closed or not! Thank you!

Inui was well aware of the dangers that this particular ritual held. Sure, any summoning ritual could go awry and become trouble quickly, but this spell was especially fickle. One tiny mistake or missed detail and he could summon something unwanted, possibly some eldritch creature that would destroy every known universe, but to him, the risks were worth it

He had spent so much time meticulously studying the circle that he'd need to draw, which materials you needed to place around said circle, offerings you were supposed to make, and even studying another language to learn how to pronounce the incantation correctly. Everything should be fine, it would all go perfectly and he would get what he wanted with no problems...

...He said to himself, sweating profusely as his arms carrying the backpack full of spellcasting materials trembled... Nevertheless, he marched onwards, deeper into the dark forest where you were supposed to carry out the ritual

Inui found the spot that he needed, a small clearing in the woods where the grass was noticeably softer and the breeze seemed calmer, where the only red flowers grew within the entire forest. This was where he began prepping for the ritual, casting the intricate circle with dried herbs, flowers, and crystals. Fixing several candles around the pattern and lighting them before stepping away to pull out his book of incantations, reading over the lines and practicing in his head. He waited about an hour, just as the instructions mentioned, before standing up and facing the circle. Taking a deep breath, he began the chant, repeating it three times as he walked around the summoning circle

He then put his book away and returned to the circle, stripping off his robes before laying down in the center, announcing his offering to the demon, “In return for your arrival and services, I have brought an offering of... myself. My flesh, my mind, and my soul are yours to do with as you please. Now, come forth!”

Tonight, Inui was uncharacteristically impatient. Normally he had no problems waiting for summoned creatures to appear, or waiting for spells to take effect. Tonight's spell, however, was very special. The being that he was desperately attempting to summon was a demon of lust, not an incubus or succubus, mind you. This was supposed to be leagues above those kinds of demons. And He was rumored to only appear before men that He found exceptionally attractive, which is what made this ritual difficult to find. Most of the sorcerers that committed to this summoning had no results, the demon refusing to come forth for anyone within the last 300 years, give or take...

Many people regarded this spell as nothing more than a hoax, claiming that it had probably become lost in translation somewhere and that was the reason it never worked. Some of the world's most handsome and skilled sorcerers attempted the summoning with no luck, so the magical realms deemed the spell to be fraudulent, because who wouldn't find these men attractive? That's what they all said, anyways. But Inui was tempted by the promises that this spell makes. Promises of "pleasure unlike anything this Earth could ever provide." And, "A love that no other could provide." These were loose translations of course, but Inui was tempted nonetheless. Hoping that if he was the one to finally summon the demon after all of these years, the other sorcerers would have to acknowledge his work, no longer able to poke fun at him or disregard his magic

He had other motivations for this summoning as well. The prospect of demon sex was very tempting...and since it was this demon's specialty, why not dedicate an entire year to studying the ancient books to bring this fantasy to life?

Inui's mind wandered as he awaited the creature's arrival. He closed his eyes, feeling the breeze glide through his hair and brush against his bare skin, his mind conjuring up scenes of what he imagined the demon would do to him. If it has claws, would it use those to scratch his delicate skin, drawing blood and licking it up with it's long tongue? If it has sharp teeth, surely it would sink them into Inui's tender flesh, marking him as it's human toy. And what about it's size, surely the demon would want to shove it's monster cock deep inside of him?

Inui began to squirm, his skin felt impossibly hot, as if he was on fire. His back arched as a single moan slipped out of him, rubbing his thighs together as his cock began hardening from the lewd thoughts. Suddenly, his hips burned, not in a painful way though, in a way that caused him to moan out once again

“My, aren't you an adorable little thing~ ” A low voice purred into Inui's ear, impossibly hot breath hitting his neck as a shiver crawled up his spine. His eyes snapped open to find a large creature hovering over his body, it's hands firmly gripping his hips and haunting yellow eyes boring into his, visibly glowing in the darkness of the forest

Inui wanted to say something, but the words died in the back of his throat, only able to gasp and pant as the demon loomed over his comparably small frame. “What's wrong, little one? Too stunned to speak?” A small noise escaped from Inui involuntarily, unable to process that this was actually happening. “Oh, darling, I hope you're not afraid of me now?”

Inui shook his head, not wanting the demon to leave him. “Good, good. ” It chuckled, brushing it's slender fingers against his cheek, trailing it's touch down the human's neck, smiling when Inui arched his back again, squeaking out some cute response and tilting his head up to expose his neck further

You slowly licked your lips, leaning down and grazing your sharp fangs against Inui's sensitive flesh, causing him to flinch and gasp. Gently kissing his neck, your hands traveling to his stomach and trailing your fingers downwards, stopping at the base of his dick. Inui whined in response, raising his hips up a bit to chase the addictive touch. Desperately wishing you would wrap those hands around his cock and–

“Already excited, are we?” Purring, you tapped his fully erect cock, eliciting a tiny noise from Inui. “Such a horny little thing, I haven't even touched it yet. Are you desperate for this kind of attention, sweet thing? Is that why you summoned me? ” You teased, baring your fangs and growling, just as hungry with lust as the sorcerer was. Depraved from worthy offerings for centuries now

“Take m-me...please...” Inui whispered. Spreading his thighs for you. You cocked an eyebrow at the request, the sorcerer's tone was meek, but you could sense the sincerity behind his words. Humming, you brushed a hand through Inui's hair, and he leaned into the touch, looking up at you through pretty blond lashes

“This is what you want, human? Once we start, I will not stop until you are marked with my seal. Are you certain that you can handle this? ”

Inui swallowed hard, taking a deep breath before his answer, “Yes. I want this, I want y-you...all of you. ” This greatly pleased you, a toothy smile spreading across your face as your slender tail swished from behind

“Very good~ Then let us begin, cutie~ ” You positioned yourself so that your face was hovering over Inui's cock, using your long, forked tongue to wet the member while your hands held the human's thighs apart. Inui moaned loudly when you swallowed his entire length at once, your mouth now flush with his pelvis. He instinctually grabbed your hair, tightening his fist as you bobbed your head up and down, sucking on the tip harshly. Teeth grazing against the bottom of his cock and causing Inui to keen, throwing his head back against the ground and letting out a high-pitched moan

Precum hit the back of your throat, coating your tongue and drawing out a moan when you tasted the familiar salty flavour. You couldn't help but moan around Inui's thick cock, the vibrations causing his dick to twitch inside of your mouth. Which only egged you on more, now bobbing your head faster, wrapping your long tongue around his shaft. Inui was losing his mind, vision blurry as it felt like he was getting a handjob and a blowjob at the same time

He cried out your name, his back arching impossibly high off of the ground, “G-gonna– Aaahhh—!!! ” Your eyes rolled to the back of your head as the sorcerer's load poured down your throat, greedily swallowing every last drop. You slowly let his cock slide out of your mouth, releasing it with a wet pop sound, tongue lolling out and a bit of cum sticking to it

Already spent, Inui panted heavily. But you were far from finished with this new toy, licking your lips and immediately sticking your tongue into the human's hole, eliciting a scream from him. “Oh– Oooohh fffuuuck~ ”

You continued to lick and slurp Inui's ass, working your tongue deeper inside of him and shoving it against his prostate, making him shout out broken moans. Sobbing as his ass was stretched just from that thick tongue

Retracting your tongue, you quickly replaced the wet muscle with two fingers, pumping them in and out of Inui's wet hole. His head felt fuzzy again as his ass was stretched further, it already felt as if he was at his limit, his arm draped over his eyes and chest heaving. You wrapped your other hand around Inui's dick, giving it a few pumps before rubbing over his slit with your thumb. The poor human hissed, biting his lip and clawing at your arms, his dick still sensitive from the previous orgasm

This did not deter you, however. If anything it only made you move faster and push your fingers in deeper, once again hitting Inui's prostate and leaving your fingers pressed against it. Ripping yet another orgasm out of him as your hand milked more cum from his cock, the thick fluid leaking all down your fingers

Inui slumped against the ground, almost hyperventilating from the overwhelming pleasure. With his strength rapidly leaving him, his hands fell onto the ground, releasing their grip on your large arms. You rubbed your hands over the expanse of Inui's chest, cooing sweet praises into your human's ear. “You're doing so well, sweetie. Releasing all of this lovely fluid just for me~” Inui could feel the rumbling in your chest as you spoke, voice low and gravelly. “But we're just getting started~ ”

Inui's eyes opened in bewilderment. He knew that this would require way more stamina than usual, human sex. What he did not expect was how every single touch from your clawed, calloused hands seemed to drain that stamina immediately and light every last nerve on fire at the same time. It was as if your touch injected him with lust, keeping him constantly horny enough to keep going even if he could no longer hold himself up

The familiar sound of clothing hitting the ground brought his attention back to you, having just removed your trousers. Which allowed your cock to spring free of it's constraints. Inui's mind appeared to go blank at the sight, drool falling from the corners of his mouth as he stared at your fully erect length. Most humans would say something along the lines of, “No way in hell is that thing going to fit!” But Inui Seishu was not most humans. Inui was, to put it crudely, a cockslut and a size king. Always craving the things that would stretch him open enough to shut off his mind, only able to moan and take inch after inch deeper into his body

These thoughts were not unknown to you, as every last kink and preference became known as soon as they laid down in the enchanted circle. Which is exactly why you chose him. Inui would be capable of taking everything that you could give him; he craved an experience such as this one, and you were more than happy to give it to him

As if your body had its own gravitational force, Inui inches closer towards it, beckoning you to slide into his tight hole. So you grabbed his waist, impossibly tiny within your grasp, and lined your demonic dick up with his ass. He gulped, glassy eyes trained on your cock as the tip disappeared inside of him, the stretch already burning in the most delicious way

“Shh, breathe for me, lovely. There's still so much more that needs to go in.” Those soothing words echoed in Inui's mind as another inch slid past that ring of muscles. His eyes rolling into the back of his head and mouth falling open in a silent moan. You soothed the human as best as you could, sliding in further and further until your dick had disappeared entirely. “Ooohh fuuucckk yeeesss~ ” You hissed, panting as his tight walls convulsed around your cock, his hips jerking upwards as cum painted his chest white

A devilish grin spread across your face, slowly thrusting into Inui's twitching body. He came just from feeling you bottom out inside of him. Such a good little pet for you.

A familiar tightening in your core caused you to speed up, chasing your first release of the night while your human was already on his third. Yet, you could sense the passion inside of him, he craved more. And more is exactly what you would give him. Slamming your hips against his roughly, you growled praises against Inui's neck, nipping him with your fangs and flooding his insides with searing hot cum

Still partially recovering from his earlier orgasm, Inui arched his back high off of the ground, wailing as you fucked him and filled him. His body going completely limp in your hands, breathing erratically and making the cutest fucked out noises

You took a second to catch your breath and revel in the sight before you. There was a large bulge in Inui's stomach where he was stretched around your cock, his insides pushed aside to make room for the impossibly large intrusion. His blond hair clung to his forehead, beads of sweat sliding down his skin from the intensity of it all. Your hand brushed some of the wet hair away, nails scratching against his scalp and pulling a soft whine from him

You couldn't stop the smile growing on your features, it'd been far too long since you had felt this way towards a human. Especially one that intentionally offered himself unto you like this one did. Hungry lips met Inui's soft ones, moving together harmoniously as your eyes fluttered closed, enjoying this moment before you gave him another orgasm

Inui moaned into the kiss when he felt your fingers brush against his nipples, playing with them so you could hear more pretty noises from your sweet human, humping into his wet hole as you did so. Inui gasped as your hips snapped into him harshly, pinching his nipples simultaneously. Your thrusts began to speed up again, causing him to throw his head back in total bliss, fucking him at just the right pace

The temptation to mark your cute pet up was far too strong, leaning down to press an open-mouthed kiss to his sensitive neck. Nibbling on the soft flesh as you fucked your previous load deep into his gut, thrusting faster and faster so that you could add more cum to the mess already within his walls, making the bulge in his stomach even larger. Inui whined loudly, tangling his hand in your hair and tugging at the roots, begging for you to cum in him again, “Please– Ah!! More...cum in me more... Fill me with your cock until I can't think of anything else– F-fuuck—!! ”

Cum flooded his insides once again, dick twitching as his gummy walls squeezed it all out of you, your hips surely hitting him hard enough to leave a bruise later on. Blood trickled down Inui's neck as your fangs pierced his delicate skin. Tears ran down his cheeks from the combined intensity of everything

Inui's dick became hard yet again, still glistening from his previous orgasms. “Sweet thing, will you cum with me this time? ” You cooed, wrapping a hand around his length. Slowly pumping it as you peered into his gorgeous green eyes. “Just give me one more, then you can rest. Can you do that, darling? ” Inui nodded languidly, his hips rolling into your fist on their own

You smiled at him in response, taking a deep breath before thrusting into him again. The reaction from him was immediate; his hips jerked forward, head turning to the side as a loud moan erupted from him, hands grasping at your wrist that was gliding up and down his member. But you continued on, cock reaching the deepest places inside of him, rearranging his guts completely as his body molded to your length

Inui clenched around your dick, his fourth climax just within reach, crying out your name while your thrusting became sloppy. One hand continued to jerk him off, twisting your wrist as you stroked upwards and eliciting high-pitched screams from him, while your other hand rubbed at the bulge in his stomach. Effectively jerking yourself off through his body, almost using him as a fleshlight

The way his mind just shut off was instantly noticeable. Inui's eyes became vacant, unable to look away from your lustful gaze. Little “Ah! Ah! Ah! ” noises escaping him with each rhythmic thrust, no longer capable of forming words as he becomes your dumb little doll. Arms and legs completely limp, the only thing really moving is his hips as they thrust into your hand, chasing yet another orgasm even though his mind is unresponsive to the overstimulation

“I really did fuck you stupid, didn't I, little one?” No response, unless you count the slightest change in the pitch of the human's moans as anything. “So good for me. Mm, cum with me now, let us complete this pact~ ”

With that, you fucked into Inui roughly, snapping your hips into his and vigorously pumping his cock. Biting your bottom lip as you grow closer to your release and finally cumming within Inui's tight ass as he squeezes you once more, his own release following only a second behind yours. His body twitched and writhed under your grasp as a glowing red seal was burned onto his stomach, the large mark spanning from just above his bellybutton to right above the base of his dick. The same mark as your summoning circle, a mark of ownership. Telling all manner of demons and other creatures that this one belongs to you

Caressing the newly etched seal, a wave of possessiveness washed over your features for a moment. Your darling human was fast asleep, exhaustion finally taking over after so much excitement. His soft features became illuminated by the moonlight and you couldn't help but smile fondly

You slowly and carefully pulled out of him, so as not to hurt him or rouse him from slumber. Soothing your hands over his body and kissing his pale cheek before lying down next to his side. You pulled him against your chest and spooned his small body, wrapping your tail around his leg. Placing a kiss on the top of his head, you whispered a few more praises and loving words into Inui's ear before drifting off with him

Reblogs are extremely appreciated <3

Tagging: @anxious-chick @steadybreadbluebird @6kabuki

#my writing #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #tokyo rev smut #tokyo revengers smut #tokyo revengers #tokyo rev x reader #inui seishu #sub inupi #sub inui #male reader #dom reader #top reader #inui x reader #terato #sorcerer au #oneshot

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