#she made the point to come over and shake it all over me

[hgfictionwriter]

Maybe This Time

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Summary: UCLA was a long time ago. Jessie couldn't bring herself to make a move back then and missed her chance. But now that you're back in her life, maybe things can be different.

Warning: None

A/N: A bit more fluff for y'all! And sorry for flooding the Jessie tags. I’ve got a bunch of fics just sitting around!

"Jessie?"

Jessie turned and couldn't believe her eyes. Y/N. Y/N L/N. The girl she'd pined over at UCLA; who her friends had relentlessly made fun of her for liking and never pursuing; the girl who still showed up in idle daydreams from time to time, even all these years later.

"I heard you were playing in town now. Oh my gosh - it's been so long. I was hoping I'd run into you at some point."

Here you were standing in front of her. Smiling at her. Instead of being the...relatively...confident person Jessie now was - she was national team captain, a gold medal athlete, for goodness sake - she wasn't a young girl anymore hiding behind textbooks and her friends, instead though, she felt her cheeks burn hot and her words got caught in her throat. She stood there staring speechless at you.

"Don't tell me you don't recognize me," you said, a hint of apprehension beginning to cast over you.

Finally, Jessie began to react. She closed her eyes briefly in hopes of resetting, shaking her head and allowing herself to smile.

"Of course I do," she finally managed, only stammering slightly. "I mean, I recognize you. Of course."

"Okay." You let out a small laugh of relief. "For a second I thought worldwide athletic stardom made you forget your favourite lab partner."

"Of course not," Jessie readily assured you. "I'd never forget you."

The words were out of her mouth before she could stop them. She clenched her jaw as she reprimanded herself internally for imploding so quickly and after so much time. She cut herself some slack when you smiled again at her.

"That's comforting to hear. Well, I mean, I know you're just leaving," you gestured to the door of the coffee shop, "but, um, I don't know." You laughed nervously before settling on what to say. You offered her a resolute nod. "It was nice to see you again."

Jessie's mind whirled with ideas and options. Anything coming out of her mouth now was mere instinct.

"Nice to see you too. Um, I don't know, maybe we could chat sometime? Are you in Portland too?"

"Yeah, I work at a logistics firm in town." You cracked a smirk. "Not nearly as glamorous as being a national icon, but you know, I do my part."

Jessie chuckled and ran her fingers through her hair.

"If you call 4 am wake-up calls, jet lag, and bruises to high heaven glamourous, then sure, I guess it is."

"Sounds not too unfamiliar from your UCLA days," you teased. "I still remember when you showed up to class with a black eye. And I see you've healed fine from your recent one."

Jessie blushed. So you watched her games? And you remembered moments from uni.

You'd been friends in university, but that's all it ever was. Her friends had goaded her again and again to ask you out, but Jessie could never work up the courage. She'd doubted herself too much. And then before she knew it she'd lost her chance. You dated other girls and that was the end of it. She stepped back and time ticked on.

You remained close friends throughout uni, sharing deep conversations, hopes and fears, silly moments, too. There were moments where Jessie felt hope starting to blossom in her chest - that maybe you had feelings for her, but she'd stamp it out. She’d just be setting herself up for disappointment.

After you both graduated, that was it. She'd gone off to London and you fell out of touch. It was for the best really. Well, maybe.

"Anyway," you started again, drawing Jessie back from her thoughts. "Sure, I'd love to catch up. I'd say I'll message you on Instagram, but I know your social media is a black hole. I can give you my number if you like."

Jessie gave you a tight-lipped smile as she scratched the back of her head and let her gaze fall to the bulletin of flyers instead.

"Yeah, I'm not much for social media."

"I know," you chuckled. "You never were."

Jessie cleared her throat and looked back to you. "And sure, what's your number?"

She almost missed you telling her because her mind drifted back to class when you reached over and scribbled your number on the top corner of her paper and told her to text you about the reading. Jessie’s words had died in her throat and she had to settle for merely offering you a delayed nod as you gathered up your books and left. She’d felt light on her feet, nearly dizzy even, all day. Her hands had shaken when she texted you and her palms were clammy as she awaited your response.

That was a lifetime ago. But now here you were, and number newly confirmed. Jessie tucked her phone away in her pocket.

"Okay, I'll let you go," you told her. "And truly, if you aren't up to a chat of any kind - no pressure. You probably have so many people vying for your time. I won't be offended." You said with true earnest. "In case I don't see you again, I just want to say I'm really proud of you for everything you've achieved. And I'd say I'm impressed, but A) that goes without saying, and B) I always knew you were going to do great things. I told you time and time again. Anyway, it was so good to see you. Take care."

Before Jessie could respond, you'd turned and disappeared to the other side of the shop and into the line. She forced herself to turn and leave.

The door had barely closed behind her when she opened her phone and pulled up her messages with Teagan.

"You will NEVER guess who I just ran into."

-----

"Hi Y/N. It's Jessie. UCLA."

"Lol the one and only. How are you?"

"Well forgive me for not assuming that you would know who a random 'Jessie' is lol. I'm doing well, thanks. How are you?"

"You were always very humble. It was always very endearing, so I'm glad to see you haven't lost that. I'm doing well. Working late. Some of my vendors are shitting the bed, so I'm scrambling to find alternatives."

"Seriously? That sounds brutal. I'm sorry to hear that. Well, if it makes you feel better, the team had to run extra drills today because of how bad our last game was."

"It's the start of the season - lots of new players. Chemistry takes time. You guys will find your groove soon. I'm positive. How is Portland treating you, by the way? I'd love to hear more about your time in London too at some point."

"Well, if you still want to grab coffee, I can tell you all about it. And I want to hear about you too. Did you ever make it to the Ghibli museum?"

"Oh my gosh lolol. You remember that. And yes! I did. And it was amazing. And coffee would be amazing, too :)"

Jessie belatedly realized that she was smiling as you texted back and forth. It was an odd feeling - it was strange to be talking with you again, yet entirely natural.

To her surprise, you ended up texting every day until you met up Sunday afternoon. She'd mentioned to Teagan that you two had this scheduled and soon Jessie was hit with an onslaught of messages from all her Bruins mates stepping right back into form and teasing her.

On a scale from 1-10, how red did you blush? And why was it 20.

Can I finally tell her you mumbled her name in your sleep? Several times?

Please tell me you immediately pulled out a vision board with her face all over it.

LOL the universe said, “Think you’ve suffered enough pining for this girl? Think you’re over her? Guess again!”

She still hot? Send pics.

Jessie sat in her car down the street from the coffee shop and essentially gave herself a stern, mental talking to about your get together. She was not who she was 5 years ago, and neither were you. She didn't need to be so nervous. There were no stakes at all, she could just relax, be in the moment, and reconnect with an old friend.

When she stepped into the coffee shop, her pulse picked up just so when she saw you seated at a table, but thankfully by the time she sat she'd composed herself again.

"The good news is, the rain is nothing new to me after being in London," she joked as she swept some rain off her baseball cap.

You looked up from your phone and a large smile crossed your face.

"Yeah, I hear you. And what's going on - how did we both go from sunny LA to rain central?"

Not entirely surprising, conversation flowed easily between you two. And it wasn't all reminiscing and nostalgia, it was easy to talk about current things as well. Pretty soon, you were both at the ends of your second cups of coffee and yet neither of you made a move to leave.

"So, um, you've been in Portland for a while now," the ease Jessie had felt faltered some as she broached a topic she'd been highly curious about, "did [y/gf] come with you?"

You screwed up your face and laughed.

"No," you answered easily. "We broke up like a couple of months after convocation. Let's be real - that was never going to last."

"Oh," Jessie replied, surprise showing on her face at how readily you dismissed the notion. "I had no idea. I thought you two were solid."

"Well," you drained the last bit of your drink, "I guess I wasn't entirely forthcoming then. Sure, things were okay. But, I was lying to myself if I thought that was going to be a 'forever' kind of relationship." Jessie's look of surprise lingered and you rolled your eyes, leaning in. "Jessie. She'd get distracted every time she walked by a mirror. I wish I was exaggerating, but I'm not. Come on, don't tell me you didn't notice. Her full on checking herself out anytime she caught her reflection?"

Jessie sat back and gave you a brief look of disbelief, shaking her head. "I tried not to notice."

"Smart," you retorted good naturedly. "She was nice, and we had fun, but beyond our values not exactly aligning, an equal partnership it was not."

"Well, okay, she's out of the picture. You must be with someone new, then," Jessie went on. She ignored the twinge in her chest when you shook your head 'no'. Just as quickly, she scolded herself. Why would it matter? She was getting way ahead of herself here. She supposed that old habits - and evidently dormant feelings - died hard.

"No. I mean, I dated a couple of girls since I've been here, but nothing's really stuck." You looked up from your drink to Jessie. "Now, superstar, you have to tell me your update."

Jessie mouth contracted into a tight smile and she felt her cheeks begin to burn under the scrutiny.

"That's confidential," she quipped.

You rolled your eyes dramatically and leaned forward. "That is so not fair." Jessie remained smugly silent and merely shrugged. You let out an exasperated sigh and slouched back in your chair. "Fine," you relented not wanting to push too much. "You were always tight-lipped in university, too. You could've had anyone and you - as far as I know," you said pointedly, "didn't date anyone."

"Oh come on." Jessie now rolled her eyes. "I was so shy and quiet. Even if I'd liked someone I would've never gotten up the courage to ask them out." She felt a buzzing in her head as she watched your reaction. You smiled sweetly.

"You were shy and quiet, yes. But you opened up once you were comfortable. I mean, look at us, look at you with your teammates. And you were so smart, incredibly sweet, and pretty, and you had that dry sense of humour. And, hello, captain of the football team!"

"Co-captain," Jessie interjected pointedly. You hung your head briefly with a laugh.

"I repeat - you could've had anyone."

Jessie subconsciously fidgeted with her hat and planted her feet further apart as she shifted down in her chair. "Well, didn't seem that way at the time."

"Wait - so who did you like?" You probed.

"No one," Jessie retorted, her features scrunching up as she played off the question dismissively. "I barely had time to breathe. There was no way I could date someone."

"You are so cagey sometimes," you said lightly, not being able to resist ribbing her once more. "Fine, so, what about now? Are you seeing someone?"

Jessie's composure was long gone and her face burned hot as your interrogation got her flustered. She took a subtle breath and worked to calm herself.

"No, no one's caught my eye just yet," she relayed.

You studied Jessie, discerning whether to drop the topic or not. You eventually relented as you crossed your arms and reclined in your chair.

"Well, I imagine that's not easy. There's a lot to live up to. And you're surrounded by impressive people every day, so the bar's gotta be high. Again, you can have your pick."

You grabbed your phone and looked it over quickly.

"I need to get going. I have a few errands to run still before the weekend's over," you said, a hint of regret in your voice before you offered a smile. "I had a great time though. It was so good to catch up with you."

Jessie removed her hat, running her fingers through her hair briefly before pulling the cap back down on her head.

"Yeah, I had a great time, too."

For the first time this conversation, a small lull formed and neither of you jumped to bridge it. Eventually, Jessie cleared her throat.

"Maybe we could get together again. Coffee. A drink. Whatever, really."

A mild look of surprise crossed your face, puzzling Jessie.

"Sure, I'd like that," you told her warmly as you shrugged on your jacket.

"Okay." Jessie gave you a small smile as she, too, rose from the table. "Will you be at the game next weekend?"

"I hadn't planned on it, but I could be." You smirked.

"No pressure," Jessie said as she felt that old nervousness begin to bubble up. "I could get you tickets if you ever want to go. That's all."

You smiled, looking at her in appreciation. "I'll have to take you up on that."

Jessie chuckled, but gave you a pointed look. "Honestly, you don't have to. I know you weren't a big soccer fan even in university."

"But," you started, drawing the word out and returning her pointed look, "I started going to games after becoming friends with a certain someone. I just haven't had a reason to go to a Thorns games yet."

Jessie resisted her impending blush and instead crossed her arms loosely in front of her, shifting her weight to one leg. "Okay, just let me know," Jessie said. She gave you a small nod. "And I promise these games are even better than Bruins ones."

You cocked your head, a hint of a smile on your face as you lifted a finger to your lips and narrowed your eyes in mock contemplation.

"What are they calling you these days? Midfield Maestro?"

Somehow, Jessie didn't even feel the urge to blush. Instead, she gave you a cocky smirk.

"So you really have been following my career."

She nearly grinned at how your cheeks flushed pink and you broke eye contact. You only took a moment to compose yourself and look back to Jessie with a half smirk.

"Hard not to," you simply said.

Jessie relented, feeling like she'd teased you enough. For now. She smiled and spoke earnestly.

"Offer stands - if you wants tickets, just let me know. Regardless, let's get together soon."

"Deal," you told her, your blush slowly fading.

There was a brief moment of stillness and uncertainty before you stepped forward and pulled Jessie into a hug. It only took her a moment to relax into it, her arms wrapping around you. Even though your body felt different now - so was hers - it felt natural to hold you close again.

You stayed like that for several moments, surprise and tampered excitement filling Jessie when you tightened your embrace before letting go. She noted the renewed colour on your cheeks when you stepped back.

"Text me?" You asked.

Jessie nodded. "Of course."

#jessie fleming #jessie fleming x reader #jflem #woso community #woso x reader #woso imagine #canwnt #woso #portland thorns #canwnt x reader

[chaotic-toasters]

Dumb Ref

Kate Martin x Reader (I write soccer fics... don't come at me if it sucks please🙏)

--------------------

"REF!" you yelled, tossing your hands up from your spot on the ground. "ARE YOU GONNA CALL THE FOUL OR NAH?"

The ref turned her head back in annoyance as play continued on. "Just because you keep falling over doesn't mean it's a foul, Y/L/N!"

A growl rumbled in the back of your throat. You shot to your feet, smacking the ball away as it left the LSU player's hand. "RAAHHH!"

You chucked the ball to Caitlin who made an easy layup, rolling your eyes at the way the Iowa bench was unsuccessfully trying to stifle their laughter.

As you ran back, the player you were defending mistakenly stuck out her foot ever-so-slightly, and, to your aggravation, you tripped.

"REEEEEF!" you yelled, practically shattering everyone's eardrums to the point all the courtside microphones picked it up. "SHE FLIPPIN' TRIPPED ME! CALL THE FOUL, GODDAMNIT!"

The ref blew her whistle, glaring at you before touching her right hand to her right shoulder and letting her arm fall to her side.

Your jaw dropped as you scrambled to your feet. "HOW IS THAT A FLOP?! ARE YOU DUMB?"

You were tackled to the floor before you could even take a step. "SYDNEY! GET OFFA ME YOU FU—"

A hand was slapped over your mouth.

"Don't!" Kate scolded, your girlfriend's hand remaining strong. "Don't say it."

Sydney only let you up once you stopped squirming, a look of utter annoyance on your face. "I hate all of you. Literally every single one of you."

As play started up again, you became more aggressive, throwing more shoulder into it than you had earlier on in the game, getting more steals, blocking more shots. And of course, that was when the ref started paying attention.

You had slightly knocked Angel Reese with your shoulder, successfully stealing the ball after a double team with Caitlin, when the ref had decided she didn't like that and blown the whistle.

You backflipped, chucking the ball to Narnia, fists clenched as you stalked over to the dumb woman wearing black and white stripes. "ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING M— YOU CAN'T EJECT ME FOR THAT YOU BI—" you stopped short when you spotted Kate giving you the I'm-not-mad,-just-disappointed girlfriend look. "YOU BIIIIII... you biii... YOU BIRD! THIS IS ONLY MY FOURTH PERSONAL! LEARN TO COUNT!"

You could hear Coach Bluder facepalm behind you.

"No," the ref scoffed. "One on Reese in the first quarter, one on Johnson in the second, and two on Poa and another one on Reese this quarter."

"Yeah! That's four!" You snapped, counting on your fingers. "Reese, Johnson, Poa, Ree—"

You stopped short. "Reese, Reese, Johnson, Poa, Poa—wait—"

Kate held in a laugh, grabbing you by the shoulders and pushing you gently off the court since you were still busy trying to count. "Come on, baby, off you go."

You blinked rapidly as Coach Bluder took Kate's place, guiding you to the bench with an amused but equally unamused sigh. "Sit down, Y/N."

As soon as she returned to her previous spot on the sidelines, you snapped out of it. "Dumb ref!"

Her head snapped back like a slingshot. "What did you say?"

You jumped to your feet, ready to deck her, only for Molly to deck you, lightly but effectively kicking you in the back of the knee with her foot. You practically crumpled, nearly hitting your head on the back of your seat had it not been for one of your other teammates sticking their hand out. "Ow!"

"Sit your ass down," Molly scolded. "Stop antagonizing her!"

"She's antagonizing me!" You whined, holding the back of your knee as you hauled yourself up onto your chair. "She's the one being a—"

"HEY!" Kate shouted from half court, hands in her hips as LSU prepared to dribble down the court. "NOT ANOTHER WORD, MISSY, OR YOU CAN COOK YOUR OWN DINNER FOR THE NEXT WEEK!"

You jolted, sitting up ramrod straight, frantically shaking your head at the threat.

Kylie snorted. "Really? That's all it took for you to shut up? Your girlfriend yelling at you?"

You scowled, but said nothing.

"You're so whipped."

"I am not whipped!" You screeched, shoving her off her seat before standing on yours and preparing to perform an elbow drop.

"HEY! STOP THAT!" Kate's voice was so commanding that everybody on the court froze momentarily. "KYLIE! Y/N! BEHAVE!"

You both scrambled to return to your seats, staring straight ahead with matching looks of terror on your faces.

Kate shook her head as everyone on the court snapped back into action. "LITERAL CHILDREN!"

You stuck out your tongue.

"SEE?"

I should stick to soccer fics

#kate martin x reader #kate martin #iowa wcbb #caitlin clark #sydney affolter #molly davis #lisa bluder #angel reese #lsu wbb

[xxgoblin-dumplingxx]

Science experiment reader please? The angst is feeding my soul 🥹💛

Jason let you settle back in on the couch and left you in the library, still rubbing his sternum and clearing his throat.

But you stifled a groan. Now that you were awake, you were awake. And you would be until your brain decided it was time to sleep. Worst. Parting gift. Ever. You didn't dream unless it was nightmares and you couldn't sleep more than an hour or two at a time. Cycling between being practical narcolepsy and no sleep at all. Walk it was, then.

At least that wasn't super demanding and if you stuck to your path it would take you somewhere you could scream and cry to your heart's content- maybe if you wore your self out you could pass out for a while in your hammock out there.

So. You go in search of Alfred to let him know you were leaving- the last thing you wanted was a panicked search party looking for you in the little clearing you made. You didn't doubt people knew where it was. They ran trainings in the woods all the time. People rambled out there all the time. But, everyone pretended they didn't know about it, and you appreciated it. It was small. Tucked back in a gap in the old growth, where there was a sliver of sky. But the trees still damped the noise and you felt far enough from people to feel... free. Even if it wasn't really true. There were still other emotions at the edges of it all.

"That was a short sleep," The butler observed, frowning slightly.

"Yeah," you sigh. "It's just like that sometimes." You knew you could probably say Jason had woke you up. He'd get in trouble. But- he got himself in enough trouble without your help. And being petty wouldn't really keep you off his radar, where you wanted to be. "I figured I'd go on a walk."

"The fresh air would probably do you some good," he hummed. "I'll prepare snacks. And ice water."

"Alfred, today is your day off I can always grab-"

He waved away your concerns easily and smiled slightly, "Humor me,. I like to feel useful."

You huff, half smiling and shake your head. "Thank you."

"My pleasure," he said, "now on with it. Go find a book to smuggle out, I'm sure there's a nice sunny spot somewhere." And when you give him one of your rare actual smiles, he figures, a few minutes of putting junk food in your plastic Zoltar lunch box and water in a metal container with green sparkles is worth it.

Especially when you come back later. Green sparkly knapsack slung over your shoulder- probably holding a blanket and a book or two. Whatever solace you found out there, he hoped it was enough to make the pain easier to bear.

___________

Bruce paced and watched the clock glancing at Alfred, "When did she leave?"

"Not long after noon, Master Bruce," the Butler said, not bothering to conceal his concern.

"How did she seem?" he asked.

"Tired," Alfred recalled, "But in good spirits. She took her knapsack. I gave her a few snacks and some water. I assumed she was simply going to find some quiet spot in the woods to read. When she hadn't come back by dinner I thought she might have fallen asleep."

"Hn."

"So," Dick said, "She's probably not lost or hurt. She probably knows exactly where she is."

"Probably," Tim said. "The trick would be getting back in the dark without a flashlight."

Bruce scrubbed his hand over his face. When he'd left you you'd been dozing off in the house. Having finally hit the right balance of quiet and comfort in your brain to be able to rest. "I'll go and-"

"Or you could go," Dick said, pointing at the Bat signal visible out the window.

"Damn," Bruce sighed. "Dick You'll have to go." Not just anyone could go. Especially not if you were asleep. It had to be someone you knew. And if you were in the woods- if they had to go get you from there... well. You were going to need gentle handling. And Dick would be able to do it.

Dick nodded and stood up. Watching Bruce and Tim leave to get ready to go. "Alfred, is Jason around?"

"Master Todd is unaware of this currently, I believe," he said.

"Can you keep him that way?"

"I can try."

#jason todd #jason todd x reader #ask answered #minors dni #reader insert #science experiment! reverse

[internet-sadass]

Totally Medical and Professional Knotting (dogboy! Leon Kennedy x doggirl! reader)

Blurb: Of course, Leon would absolutely dote on the older officer who happened to be the only other dogkin at RPD. And, of course, he'd be more than happy to help her 'get over' her heat when she runs out of her suppressants one day.

Warnings: smut (p in v), unprotected sex, omegaverse, breeding kink, knotting, workplace sex, dogboys/girls

A/N: I guess this is my own ‘take’ on omegaverse shit so dont come for me. Also 'dogkin' refers to dogboys/doggirls, thats just the term I've personally always used to describe them.

On his first day at the Raccoon City Police Department, Leon had fully been expecting to be the sole dogkin there. It wasn't like dogkin typically went into police work, nor were they really made welcome there. However, when he was introduced to you, the more senior officer whom he’d be shadowing, any anxieties about being bullied or rejected due to his species went out the window. You too were a dogkin, with a well-groomed, fluffy blonde tail and perked-up ears. Not to mention, canine features aside, you were certainly very pretty and gave Leon a sweet smile when the two of you were introduced. 

“Nice to meet you, Leon.” You’d said, shaking his hand. Your voice sounded so warm and kind to him, and the mellow, floral scent of your perfume mixed with the natural pheromones omegas gave off was intoxicating to him. His tail had shyly wagged in response to you introducing yourself and telling him, in that gentle voice of yours, that he needn’t be afraid of asking ‘stupid’ questions because there was no such thing.

From that instant, the young rookie had been pretty much enamoured with you, following around (literally) like a lost puppy. Even when the two of you went out on patrol or to investigations and were under stress, you never lost your temper with him, never raised your voice. Other officers could be quite cruel to Leon, berating him for making mistakes, but never you. Even if you had criticism to give, it was always delivered in such a calm manner. Aside from being a fellow dogkin, you were also a good few years older than Leon, and had a slightly maternal nature towards him, which he didn’t mind at all. 

All these factors, your kindness, your patience, your protectiveness over the rookie, and (of course) those plush curves of yours led Leon to develop a crush on you. When he got home after a shift, more often than not, he’d have another ‘task’ to deal with, though not one you knowingly set him. He’d rut into his hand, whining as he squeezed his knot, imagining how good it would be to claim you as his omega, give you however many litters of pups you wanted, and feel your slick coating his cock. He was aware that you were older and probably had many eager, more capable older alphas coming on to you, but somehow, Leon believed you’d pick him. After all, you hadn't been claimed yet, you hadn't had any pups yet (you’d disclosed this to him at one point), and you’d certainly complimented him enough times to indicate (in his eyes) that you were interested in him. 

Leon was desperate to tell you, confess ALL of these feelings and desires to you, but he knew it was absolutely not professional to go up to his superior, who’d he’d known for just around two months now, and tell her he wanted to claim her as his omega, give her as many pups as she wanted, and take her out on a romantic date to that fancy restaurant she’d mentioned several times. He didn't want to risk losing his job or losing the respect you clearly had for him. There was lingering doubt in the back of his mind about whether or not he’d read those signals from you correctly. Maybe you were just doing your job and coaching the rookie, and there was nothing romantic or sexual about how you acted towards him. Leon desperately wished that wasn't the case and prayed that you’d make the first move. He was an alpha, sure, and technically it was his job to make the first move, but he wanted the all-clear from you before he made a fool of himself.

Luckily for Leon, that day did indeed come, just not in the way he expected.

The moment he set foot into the office the two of you shared, he could sense something was off. And then the scent hit him and he knew. Before he could even open his mouth to say anything, you’d got up from your desk, strode across the room, and slammed the door shut behind him.

“Leon-” You started, struggling to even speak when you were this close to him, the distinct heavy scent of a young alpha assaulting your senses. Deep in your belly, the cramps intensified in response to his scent. Sweat was already breaking out across your forehead and you felt another wave of nausea wash over you. You cursed yourself for not just taking the damn day off until your emergency suppressant prescription (hopefully) came in that afternoon.

Leon looked like he was about to say something so you raised your hand, silencing him in an instant. 

“I am aware that you're aware of my current…state. However, I’ll have my medication by around three p.m., so we shan’t have to deal with this…issue for too long.” It took every ounce of your willpower to keep your shit together and stay professional and in control. 

Leon was a very handsome young man at the best of times, and you certainly weren’t immune to his charm, as much as you tried to be for professionalism’s sake, but right now his good looks were not helping. He was perfect: young, very fertile (you could smell it so clearly that day), and had never claimed another omega. And God his scent! That musky masculine smell, indicative of a young alpha, mixed with his minty body wash. You felt your insides twist, your cunt growing even more slick as it prepared itself to be penetrated. 

No , you told your reproductive system, not here and not now. We just have to wait until three, then it'll be fine. Just a few hours.

Already, in those few moments you'd paused to try and get a grip on yourself, Leon's expression and demeanour had changed. The look in his eyes was very clear, but you could tell he was holding back, desperately, as always, trying to be good. It’d be so easy for him to pounce on you, pin you down, and sort out your ‘current state’ (as you’d so politely termed it) himself. It’d be easy because you wouldn’t resist. At this point, you’d accept anything to make the nausea, cramps, dizziness, and the ever-rising temperature of your body go away.

Get a grip, for God’s sake! The last remnants of your rational, less-canine side mentally shook you by the shoulders, snapping you out of your daydreams. You cleared your throat.

"I can arrange for you to work under someone else for today. I don't want to hinder your ability to do your job or make you uncomfortable all because I forgot to refill my prescription."  You continued, half-hoping he’d say yes, and you would be left alone to deal with your heat yourself. At least its intensity would lessen slightly if you weren't trapped in your small office with the literal embodiment of the ideal mate for your kind.

"N-no, it's fine. It'll be fine." Leon stuttered out, managing a watery smile as he dug his nails into his palms. He could feel his whole body getting warm, those familiar feelings of tension and arousal stirring in his lower regions as his body slowly descended into a rut. The two of you went to your desks on opposite sides of the small room, both willing yourselves to ignore the roar of your natural instincts and just focus on getting through the day.

***

The scent of your heat was like a miasma in your office, utterly inescapable and hanging thickly in the air. Leon could smell the slick wetting the crotch of your panties. Even with nothing to stimulate you, you were dripping already. He took note of how you kept crossing and uncrossing your legs, those delicious thick thighs pressing together in an effort to relieve some of that endless tension inside you as you read over case files. He also couldn't focus on the files he was supposed to review whilst the pair of you waited to be called out onto an investigation. All the words on the page just blurred together and his mind would instead entertain him with visions of you under him, your legs wrapped around his waist as he pummelled into you, saying his name over and over, begging him to claim you as his own and give you litter after litter of pups.

It eventually got too much. Leon stood up from his desk and walked over to you. You didn't even turn to look up at him despite sensing his presence next to your desk. In your current state, which had already worsened, it wasn't out of the realm of possibility that just looking at him would send you spiralling and make you lose the fragile self-control you had over yourself right then.

"Um...Officer?"  He started, fidgeting with his fingers as he looked down at you. He noticed the way you were trembling, your tail swishing in frustration as you repeatedly shifted in your seat , unable to sit still.

Leon had to choose his words carefully here. The last thing he wanted to do was anger you, especially when you were so clearly on edge.

"I...please let me help you. You’re literally shaking, I…I know omegas can get really sick and pass out if they don’t get some relief during a heat. Especially if they’ve been on suppressants for a long time.”

The younger officer had obviously been doing research if he knew that the main danger of omegas using suppressants was that, if they suddenly stopped using them, they were at a higher risk of going into shock from the sudden onset of intense heat.

“And…I mean, I really like you, I’d be happy to help you. I don't want to see you suffering like you are right now.” He continued, stuttering and stumbling over his words as he essentially asked permission to fuck you.

Would it really be so bad to let him fuck you? Would it really be such a crime to let him do what he so obviously wanted so you could get some relief from the agonising combination of hot flushes, nausea, and constantly growing tension between your thighs? 

The feral part of your brain, the part which was ruled by canine instincts, said yes. Leon was right, this was the sickest you’d felt during a heat since you’d started suppressants five years ago, and there were still another five hours at least until your prescription would maybe be ready to be picked up. Passing out or going into shock because of the intensity of your heat was the last thing you needed, especially as you knew the higher-ups at RPD would use it against you, declare you as unfit for your job, use it as an argument for why dogkin are ‘useless’ for the force to employ. At least if you got this heat over with now (even if that meant fucking the rookie who was under your charge), you wouldn't be passing out or going into shock. You could just get on with your work and still have a job by the end of your shift.

"Leon." You said finally, with a sigh, rubbing the sweat off your forehead. His floppy ears perked up and his tail gave the subtlest of movements. "Go lock the door." 

You got up from your seat, wincing as more slick leaked out of you during the motion of getting up from your desk.

"You have to promise me, absolutely promise me , that you will pull out before you knot me. We're doing this just to get me through this heat so we can both focus on work and so I don’t get sick. Not to have a litter or signify that we are coupled now, understood?" Your tone was dead serious, almost cold, as you grasped the rookie by the shoulder to emphasise your point. 

“This is a totally medical, professional arrangement. Nothing more. Do I make myself clear, Leon?” 

Disappointed though he was that you weren’t inviting him to claim you, Leon nodded eagerly, his excitement coming out in his blonde tail swishing back and forth. Lifting his chin slightly with your fingers, you leant forward to kiss him. His lips stayed frozen against yours for a few seconds, confused and a little startled, before he reciprocated. The movement of his lips over yours was hesitant and sloppy. You wondered how many people he’d kissed before. Maybe only one or two, judging by his technique. It didn't matter though, because the feeling of his curious hands roaming over your well-starched uniform shirt, groping at the squishy flesh of your breasts before heading down to squeeze at your ass had you moaning into his mouth. Any touch at this point was welcome and brought about a taste of relief. 

You could feel the firm press of his erection against you, even through the rough fabric of his slacks. It was hot and throbbed in time with his quickened heartbeat. At that point, you were very much aware you’d sent the poor young man into a rut, especially when he arched into your touch as you palmed him, whining and grinding himself against your hand. It’d be cruel to keep the poor young alpha waiting any longer, so you pulled back from him and hastily undid your slacks, yanking them and your panties down below your ass. Wasting no time, you bent over the desk, pressing your chest against the cool wood and arched your back, spreading your legs slightly, causing strings of slick to break between your thighs as you parted them. Your wonderfully fluffy and silky tail curled off to the side, which was the universal dogkin signal that an omega was ready to be mated with. 

Leon froze for a few seconds, staring intensely at how you were presenting yourself to him, his eyes catching on your pink cunt, the plump lips glistening in the harsh light of the office. This was like something out of his fantasies, and he caught himself swelling with pride that you were presenting yourself to him. Not some other older, stronger alpha. Him. with jittery hands, he undid his belt, shucking his trousers and boxers down his thighs. Freed from the suffocating confines of his boxers, Leon’s length bobbed as he lined himself up, the tip shiny with the precum which was dribbling down the shaft. The flared head brushed against your lips as Leon tried to figure out what to do and where to put his hands. you moaned in response, pushing back against him, forcing the tip inside your deliciously hot and wet pussy. The young alpha shuddered in pleasure, placing his hands on the desk either side of you before rolling his hips, sinking his length into you, feeling your body eagerly accept him, sucking him in. The noise you made in response to this action was nothing short of pornographic; as you let out a long wail of pleasure.

Finally, instinct took over, and Leon began fucking you just as any young alpha who'd never claimed an omega before would: his thrusts were quick, short, and shallow, his nails digging into the desk as pounded into you. His breath was hot against the side of your face, his cock heavy and hard inside you as it stretched you out, driving in and out of you in an imperfect rhythm. In your current state, you couldn’t care less about technique. All you cared about was that delicious stretch, the feeling of being full, the sensation of him hitting up against that deep, soft part of your cunt that made you see stars. Already, the sickness of your heat had died down, instead being replaced with utter pleasure as your rational brain shut off and was replaced by the dumb canine one which only cared about being bred and having your hole stuffed with cum. You did, however, have enough sense left in your head and opted to cover your mouth with your hand, fearing that your salacious moans and whimpers would be heard by every member of staff currently in the building. Your efforts were in vain, as even if they didn't hear you, they'd probably hear Leon, who was making no effort to keep his voice down.

"P-please let me give you pups! I'd be so so good, such a good alpha for you." He whined in your ear, kissing and laving at your neck with his tongue, clearly desperate to mark you, to claim you as his own. There was nothing Leon wanted at that moment more than to breed you, make sure it's was his pups that filled your womb. His knot swelled in response to his desire, getting dangerously close to becoming stuck inside you already. You were so tight and wet around him, your body practically begging him to press himself all the way into you, to pound you until he came and filled your pretty little pussy up with seed. You were wet as anything too, the slick coating his thighs and balls, and your sloppy cunt made a distinct squelch with every roll of his hips.

You didn't answer his pleas, only giving a muffled moan when he rutted his head right up against the soft ring of your cervix. Already, the little bit of precum he’d released inside you had made your heat calm down to a far more tolerable level. However, it was now being replaced by another instinctual drive: to have your cunt filled until it overflowed, until you were well and truly bred, until there was zero chance of you not having a litter with Leon. Any thoughts or concerns about what getting pregnant would mean in terms of your career had vanished, as your canine brain had entirely taken over. 

"Please!" He whined again, almost wailing as he continued to rut into you feverishly, desperately trying to bring himself to completion so he could shoot his seed into you before you could reject his proposal to get you pregnant and so claim you as his. He gave another pathetic moan as his pace increased, his lean hips desperately pumping, colliding with the fat of your ass. His hands moved from scratching up the wooden desk to gripping your hips to get more leverage to rail you even harder and (hopefully) manage to shove his knot into you before you could pull away from him and escape. 

You let out another wail of utter pleasure, followed by whines and yelps as Leon kept on bullying his cock into you, the head thudding against your innermost point to an almost painful degree. You’d never been fucked like this before, not even by other alphas. Perhaps it was because you were actually in heat whilst having sex, which was something you’d never done before due to the risk of pregnancy and not finding an alpha you liked enough to want to do something so intimate with. 

Giving in, you couldn't hold back any longer. 

“L-Leon.” You panted out, turning your head slightly to look over your shoulder at him. 

He was quite the sight; his face was flushed, his blonde hair dishevelled and slightly sweaty, sticking to his forehead, his eyes clouded with lust. You felt lucky to have snagged such a handsome younger alpha to be the one to claim you. 

His gaze shifted from where his hands clutching onto your hips to your face.

“Yeah?” Leon’s response was breathless, as he didn't cease thrusting into you for a second. 

“Just…take me. Please. I want…ah, fuck!” Clearly, what you were saying was going down well with the younger man as he didn't even let you finish, instead picking up his pace. No more words were needed from you. 

You arched your back more, spreading your legs further apart so Leon could get even deeper into you. Taking the hint, he leaned over you, placing his hands on either side of your shoulders, and gripped the collar of your shirt in his mouth to ensure you didn't try to wiggle your way out from under him if you changed your mind. With two sharp rolls of his hips, he managed to shove his swollen knot inside you, causing you to cry out. He was so deep inside you, filling you to the brim, and the stretch of his knot inside you stung. You could feel it throbbing and pulsing with need.

With his cock now well and truly stuck inside you (with no hope of sliding out, not with how tightly your cunt was gripping into him and how engorged his knot was) Leon shifted his hips slightly, grinding them against your ass, trying to coax his climax to come. It didn't take much before he practically exploded inside you, his cock pulsing as spurt after spurt of his thick seed pumped into you, filling your womb with its warmth as he emptied his full balls into you. You groaned against the table, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head as you felt delicious relief wash over you, a deep primal satisfaction.

Leon let go of the collar of your shirt before mumbling in your ear as the last dribbles of his semen left his slit.

"M'gonna give you...ah...so many litters. As many as you want.”

He was feeling his own primal satisfaction of claiming an omega and, he hoped, fathering a litter of strong, healthy pups. 

The pair of you stayed stuck in the same position, bent over your desk, Leon’s chest pressed against your shoulder blades as you both waited for Leon’s knot to shrink enough for you to be able to release yourself. In his post-coital bliss, Leon's tail wagged lazily, giving away his simple feelings of satisfaction and pleasure that he'd got to (hopefully) knock up and claim his superior as his omega. You knew it was highly likely that he had, considering that he was a young, healthy, virile dogkin and you were in the peak of an intense heat. Right now, as Leon hummed against your neck, kissing at it whilst his cum settled in your womb, the idea of having a litter (or two, maybe even three) didn't seem all that unattractive. 

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy x you #leon kennedy x y/n #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy imagine #leon s kennedy x reader #leon x you #leon x reader #resident evil smut #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil #re2 leon #leon smut #omegaverse #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #leon kennedy #leon s kennedy #leon kennedy fanfic #dogboy leon kennedy

[bluesmooon]

SAVING THE DAY

carl grimes x reader

tags: fluff! slight angst maybe? warnings for like blood and stabbing things i suppose IDK there’s walker killing up in this one so watch out yall

masterlist here!

(this one is carl’s biting incident but just as a close call, so enjoy!)

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The Savior War was brutal, there was no doubting that. Constantly fighting and the risk of dying at any given moment was just exhausting. That never stopped Carl from being him though. He always knew what would be right, even when situations like this war had him torn.

He had talked about how he’d come across this man and he wanted to help him but his dad had shot at him, scaring him away. He’d felt so frustrated he couldn’t help him in the moment so he had gone back later to leave the man food and water.

Now, he was trying to convince you. He wanted to find him as well as for you to meet him. According to Carl he had talked about his mom and everything she told him before she died. “My mercy prevails over my wrath” was something he’d told Carl (then he mentioned it was actually from the Quran but that was besides the point). He couldn’t stop thinking about it, about the man.

“Carl now is definitely not the time to be wandering in the woods when we don’t have to, not with the Saviors out there.” You explain as he leaned his back against the island. He shakes his head. “No, you’re wrong. We do have to.” He crosses his arms. You sit there and think of a way to get him to just consider the fact that this is the worst possible timing for his morals to take control of him.

“I’m going, whether you go or not.” He reasons. “Don’t put that pressure on me, what am I supposed to do if you don’t come back?” His hands fall to his sides and he walks over to you. He gently holds the sides of your arms as he looks at you with a soft gaze.

“Just come with me. Think about it, we’ll save him, we’ll have more people for the war. We’ll have saved a life.” You look at him as he does his best to convince you, accepting you’d be going with him already in your head, you just didn’t want to fully commit. But, at the end of the day, you’d have to give in to him. You’d never let yourself forget it if he’d gotten hurt and you weren’t there to stop it.

“Fine.”

And off you went. You got everything you needed , you had your gun and knife, as well as your backpack full of stuff you might need but also food and water for the man. You had walked through the woods with him for a while, his hand in yours occasionally giving a reassuring squeeze. He let go when he had spotted something. It was him, the man.

Carl walked ahead and the two of you slowly approached him, noticing his walker traps. You’d gotten close enough to approach him and introduce yourselves. His name is Siddiq. Carl tosses him the food and water, which confused him.

“Why?” Siddiq asks. Carl explains how his mother told him that he’s gotta do what’s right, even though it’s hard to know what “right” is, but sometimes it’s not. And you believed that. You’re glad you went with him.

The two of you ended up asking him some questions, the usual. How many walkers he’s killed, how many people and why. Oddly he knew he’d killed two hundred and thirty seven…but you guys found a bit of humor in it. You could tell Carl was happy, he loved helping people and it was obvious with how soft his voice had gotten when speaking to Siddiq.

You had began to lead him back home when you were interrupted by the sounds of the dead. Just like you were worried about. Carl stops and begins walking towards the sounds and you stop him by grabbing his arm and shaking your head. “We have to. For his mom.” He whispers, gesturing to Siddiq. You’d forgotten what he had said about his mom. She believed killing them freed their souls.

So you guys had a plan. Clear the walkers from the dead dear it was eating and go home. That’s all. The three of you made your way over to the walkers, pulling out your knives. You were always good at this, you liked to believe that’s why you’ve survived so long. You immediately plunge your knife into the walkers soft skull, pushing it away for it to fall to the floor. You look around to see Siddiq pushing one away, Carl attempting to help to just get shoved into another.

You panic, not realizing there’s a walker to your left. You quickly handle it and once you do, you notice Carl is on the floor. Siddiq finally handles his walker and you rush over to Carl to help him. You see one approaching him while he struggles on the floor and you handle that one as well, pushing it off to the side.

Finally you’re able to get to him. You shove your knife in to the top of its head, pulling back your knife swiftly. This caused a bit of blood to splatter on Carl’s face but that was something to deal with later. You pull the walker off him and stand up to realize you’d done it.

You all bask in the fact that you were all alive and well.

“W-wait are you clean?” You question the both of them. They pat around their bodies and you feel the urge to just double check Carl to ensure he’s okay. He lifts his shirt up to look himself and there was nothing. You let out a sigh of relief.

That was great and all, but you needed to get back to Alexandria, and you needed to do it fast.

Back at Alexandria, Carl had settled Siddiq into the sewer so he had somewhere to stay while Carl convinced Rick to let him in. He’d also learnt that Siddiq was a medical resident, meaning the two of you had just saved a doctor. Carl met back with the you at the house. You were in the kitchen, scrounging for something to make when he walked back through the door.

“Hey.” He smiles. “Why’re you all giddy?” You ask, confused as to what has him so happy all of a sudden. “Oh nothin. Just that we saved a doctor.” Your eyes go wide and you smile brightly. You celebrate for a moment over that fact before you walk over to him at the table with a wet rag to wipe his face. He wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you closer to him as he sits. He kisses whatever is directly in front of him, so at the time it was just your abdomen. He places a couple before pulling back to let you do what you need.

He smiled at you gently as you wiped the blood off his face. “Sorry about this, by the way.” You giggle, patting his skin dry. “It’s fine. You couldn’t help it, you were too busy saving the day.”

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a/n: damn this shit is so long and boring i’m so sorryyyy T-T thank u sm anon for requesting bc i’m so pissed he’s dead so i need smth to make up for it. also there are two more requests that will be out soon!

#carl grimes #carl grimes twd #twd #the walking dead #carl grimes x you #carl grimes x fem!reader #carl grimes angst #carl grimes x y/n #carl grimes fluff #carl grimes fanfiction #carl grimes the walking dead #carl grimes x reader #twd carl #twd fanfiction #fanfic #carl isn’t dead in my eyes

[xetswan]

Unknowing- Beast of the Inbetween

(Alice x Reader x Jasper)

[three] [four] [five]

Bella and I walk out of the house with Jacob behind us, him staying behind my sister.

"Whoever it was, he left his stink behind. It'll be hard to miss when we cross it again. We'll handle it from here." Jake boldly states.

"We don't need you to handle anything. Or anyone." Edward tells him, the werewolf steps toward him, attempting to get a reaction. Something he doesn't receive. "I could care less what you need." Jacob says.

"Alright we're done here." My sister's boyfriend announces. "No, you're done here." Jacob threatens him, Bella steps between them as I watch, amused of course.

"Stop, I'm tired of this. From now on, I'm Switzerland, okay?" She exclaims but it does nothing, the two get closer to one another.

"Stop!" Again, nothing. So this time I boredly tear them away from each other. Both stumbling.

"Listen to the girl you're both obsessed with, would you?" I give them dirty looks, confused with how stupid they're acting. "Thanks." She mutters.

"Mhm." I hum. "I don't expect you guys to chuck a football around together. Fine, but we have a lot of problems and this one is a temporary solution. Are you willing to at least try?" She explains herself and how they need to knock it off. Both of them stay quiet but then Edward nods, Jacob follows suit right after.

"Alright, so you need to coordinate. You know schedules and stuff." She tries to start off theconversation but they stay quiet. Bella looks over to me, defeated.

"What would the pack prefer, tantrum throwing toddler? Days or nights?" I place my hands on my hips. "Nights." Is all he answers with.

"Will days work for your family, angsty teen?" I turn to the guys who's supposedly going to be my future brother in law. He nods.

"See? How hard was that?" Bella asks them. She weakly smiles at me as I laugh to myself.

After getting away from that hot mess I finally got some relaxing time with my lovers, Alice and Jasper.

At our normal spot where we could be alone together in the woods. Both of them sat in front of me, Alice playing the grass as Jasper fidgeted with my hand.

"How come you two never told me that before you were vampires I was in love with you. Like deeply in love with both of you?" I question suddenly, it definitely being out of nowhere.

Both of them stayed silent at first so I went to apologize but Jasper's voice cut me off. "You had to figure it out on your own. Since you never mentioned it we didn't know how much you knew. What we could say and not say." He explained.

"We're sorry." Alice sincerely says but I shake my head. "Don't apologize." I take a deep breath in. "I just, I would like to hear your point of views on what I was like to you back then. I guess." I giggle softly, the three of us all adjust how we were sitting to be more comfortable.

"Since your first life was with me, I'll go first." Jasper grins, I watch as his dimples form and I smile back.

"Our families were close, when we got a little older they introduced us. Eventually we fell in love. You already know that though." He winks at me, I feel my face warm up but I nod for him to continue.

"You were my person, that's for sure. It was like we were conjoined at one point. You were devoted to the ones you loved. You were kind, you loved helping people, it just made me fall for you even more." I felt him stiff before he said his next sentence. "Then when I signed up for the war everything changed. You were angry, upset with me for doing it. You wanted me to be safe and at home with you and-" He pauses momentarily.

"And the baby you held in your stomach. Even though you were mad at me you wrote to me every day, until it stopped. The last letter I had gotten was that the baby was lively. Kicking a storm in your stomach. I wasn't even told if you were alive or not before I had turned." He closes his eyes, my hand grips his.

"I didn't know I was pregnant." I mumble, it was mainly me thinking out loud. But after it left my mouth Jasper looked right at me.

"You didn't know?" He repeats my question. "No, but it's okay. I feel like I remember it but it's far back in my memories." I explained, shrugging my shoulders. Alice took his hand into hers.

"Continue." I nudged him.

"Well after I turned I found out through Max, the wolf that imprinted on you. He somehow found me. Telling me that even though he imprinted on you nothing happened. You had no interest in him as he would've done anything for you. He explained that you were with soldiers that came through the village. Helping them with something out in the desert field." He tells the story and it brings me back to when I was bit by James.

When my memories flooded back and I was searching for Jasper. I had thought he was with the soldiers. Then havoc struck and some thieves or something came about. I was shot and that's all I remember. I didn't remember having a baby in my stomach though. But thinking about it now. It's all I seem to see in my head.

"I was shot in that desert." I cut him off. Alice and Jasper glanced up at me.

"That's the first memory I ever had from my past life the first time." I tell them.

"When I found out I snuck out from where Maria had us staying, being a newborn vampire it was difficult but I did it. I found the man that killed you. You don't understand the torture I put him through." Jasper painfully admits, I furrow my brows. I can tell he doesn't want me to know though.

"Let's talk about something else." He says.

"Well, since we were speaking about babies a little bit. I uh, I remember giving birth to a boy. You were all there, we seemed close but I wasn't in love with either one of you." I tell them, thinking back to how I was married and telling Rosalie and Alice the news in a bathroom or something.

"That was rough to sit and watch." Jasper looks down. Alice closes her eyes, nodding in agreement.

"You were engaged before we met you. You told us that we seemed familiar. Carlisle wasn't exactly happy for us staying in your life like we did. Neither was Rosalie particularly happy about it but when you got introduced to them it was as if you knew them too." Alice explains. I remember going to the market with just Rosalie, a memory sparking in my mind. How excited she was for me when I told her I was pregnant.

I remember telling the family they were aunts and uncles. How I thought of them as best friends, even family after knowing them for two-three years. They attended my wedding. The memories were little flashes. Like I was thinking about my childhood.

"Wasn't hard to watch me be in love with someone else?" I ask them. Jasper does a short nod, his face grimacing.

"You have no idea." He chuckles. "But you were happy and that's all that mattered to us." He kisses my hand, keeping it in his hold.

"It was more difficult after you gave birth. You passed from childbirth. We wanted to change you right then and there but that was a selfish thought. Even though beforehand you had told the nurses about your past lives. Whispering how you needed to see us." Alice's voice was soft, I can tell it was hard for both of them to remember these things.

I remember the childbirth, only getting to hold my baby for five minutes before it all went downhill. My husband's horrified face. It's weird being technically 17 and being older in past lives. Living through adult things and going back down to a teen. Who is now forever a teen, even in past lives I never made it past 22 years old.

"Your son was a sweetheart. We stayed to help your husband until your baby was 4. He found another woman. She was good to both of them. We kept tabs on them, making sure no one hurt either one of them." Alice smiles at the memory. I felt myself grin as well, grateful to know that they lived a good life. Something I don't think I ever really had.

"I would love to share my life with you but there's things that I don't want to talk about." Alice begins to talk, my eyes shift over to her form. She's been in her head this whole time and I can tell. I give her a small smile when she makes eye contact with me.

"That's alright, we have infinity together for you to be ready to talk about it." I remind her, pulling her into a kiss. I feel her hand grip onto my bicep.

I smirk, opening my eyes to look down at the hand. We gently push away from each other.

"You've been very handsy lately." I announce out loud, Jasper laughs. "What? I feel like I'm always handsy." She disagrees with me, I look over to Jasper who puts his hands up in defense.

"You're not going to have my back, Jasper?" She exclaims in shock, her hand still dragging down my arm.

We just stare at her, watching her get all flustered until finally she sighs out. "Okay, fine. Ever since you became a hybrid, your muscles are distracting." She avoids eye contact with me now, I tilt my head, smirking at this new found information.

"Oh, you like these muscles?" I pull the short sleeves up over my shoulders and flex both my arms. Showing them off to my partners.

Kissing at my biceps. She shoves me backwards playfully. "You're annoying." She groans, hiding her face in her hands.

"Mmm, I don't think I am." I get closer to her, purposely flexing my arms as I do so. I gently take her face in my hands and forcefully kiss her once again.

"Hey, I feel a little left out." Jasper quietly speaks up after a few moments. We stop to look at him, then look at each other before pouncing on him.

It of course comes to an end when I have to join Bella to the Rez so the rest can have their night to hunt.

At the edge of the forest I look at my lovers, Alice has a hair strand out of place that I know later Jasper and I are going to hear about and how we should've told her. I smile to myself.

I join Bella, Jacob and Edward in their weird divorce parent looking handover of their lover girl. Who is also my sister and I have to be a part of this weird bullshit.

"Doesn't he own a shirt?" Edward questions aloud.

"I'm good here, you should go." Bella tells the vampire, he pulls her closer. "I'm not going to be long." He whispers to her. I roll my eyes, looking away from the sight. "Don't rush. You need to hunt." Bella tells him.

He then grabs her into a long, nasty sounding kiss. I know it's to purposely piss off the wolf across from us. I chuckle to myself. He pulls away.

"Maybe you rush a little bit." My sister teasingly tells him.

She takes my hand and walks us over to Jacob. I look back at Edward and give him a thumbs up while making a "I'm proud of you" face.

Jacob pulls Bella into a hug having her let go of my hand.  "Hey, beautiful." Nice game, Jakey.

"Hi." Bella smiles.

Edward's car speeds down. "So, whaddaya wanna do today, Swans? Bike, hike, hang? Your call, but we're going to a party tonight." Jacob tells us, opening the door for us in his truck. Of course Bella gets in the middle.

"You sure this is okay? I really hate being a party crasher." Bella nervously looks around her as I am mentally freaking out. "Yeah dude, I definitely should not be here." I chime in.

"Technically, you're both council meeting crashers, see the council leaders, dad, quil's grandpa, sue clearwater. She took over for Harry when he died." Jacob informs us, completely ignoring what I said.

"Okay, we should not be here." Bella puts our steps to a halt. "You're okay. I thought, I mean they thought it would be good for you two to hear the histories." He points mainly to his dad who was already staring at us. "The histories? The tribe's histories? Aren't they secret?"

"We all got a role to play. And you're a part of this. [Name]'s a huge part of this. I mean, it's the first time Seth, Leah and Quil are hearing them, too. But you are the first outsider. Ever. [Name] is not much of an outsider." He glances at me and I press my lips together tightly.

"If I had have known that, I wouldn't believe you. And would've dressed better." Bella sighs, picking at her clothes.

"Jake." Seth, a boy I've sort of met before trots up to us like a little excited puppy. You can tell he idolizes Jacob.

"Hey, it's about time you got here. Paul's been hoovering the grub. But I saved you some burgers." Set tells him with a toothy grin.

"Good looking out, bro. Bella this is Seth Clearwater. Leah's brother. Newest member of the pack." Jacob introduces them.

"Newest, bestest, brightest." Seth gloats.

"And slowest." Jacob grabs the boy in a headlock, the two tumble to the sand. Seth laughs, I smile at the sight.

As kids when I came up here without Bella. He looked up to Jacob then too. Seth always wanted to play with us.

A whistler comes from the circle.

"Come on. Your dad's about to start." Seth says, slightly out of breath. "Alright." Jacob pats him. The boy looks at me with a certain expression. His eyes widen once he realizes who I am.

"[Name]." He mutters out and I give him a small nod.

"The Quileutes have been a small tribe from the beginning." Billy starts as we all sit around the fire.

"But we've always had magic in our blood." I look around at everyone's faces. Their attention wholly being on Billy.

Sam was an exception, his eyes laid on me. My upper lip twitched in realization. I shift in place, fixing my attention back to the commanding chief.

"We were great spirit warriors... shape shifters, that transform into the powerful wolf. This enabled us to scare off our enemies and protect our tribe." He explains.

"One day our warriors came across a creature.." His eyes then met mine and I wanted to shrink into a bug at that moment. "It looked like a man, but it was hard like stone and cold as ice." I shivered from the words, feeling the heat of the fire but thinking of my lover's cold feeling, especially from earlier.

I shook my head from the thoughts that erupted in my mind. "Our warrior's sharp teeth finally tore it apart but only fire would completely destroy it." I think back to when I was a wolf. The feeling of the sharp teeth in my mouth.

"They lived in fear, the Cold man was not alone. And they were right."

"She took her vengeance out on the village. Our elder chief. Taha Aki was the only spirit warrior left to save the tribe after his son was killed. But it wasn't only the beautiful thing that was angered. She had a beast with her. Once that was stuck in between worlds as both combined. She had been spying on the village pretending to be with the wolves. Turning into one the village believed they could trust her. She turned on them when the cold woman came to take her vengeance." Everyone's eyes glanced at me and I felt the heat of the fire engulf me.

"Taha Aki's wife could see that he would lose. "

"The third wife of Taha was no magical being, no special powers but one...Courage." Billy said in a powerful tone.

The third wife's sacrifice distracted the cold woman, and beast of the inbetween, long enough for Taha Aki to destroy them. She saved the tribe." I felt something on my neck, it was a quick sharp pain and then a hot burning sensation around my body.

I was shocked that they could easily kill the monster who I am now. I thought I was more invincible than I really am.

"Over time, our enemies have disappeared but one remains, the Cold Ones. The Beast of the Inbetween comes and goes. Sometimes an enemy. Other times...an ally." His eyes stare into me.

"Our magic awakens when they near. And we sense it now, we feel the threat in our blood. Something terrible is coming and we must all be ready. All of us."

Sorry for the late ass post. No excuses just had no energy to write lmao!!!

Masterlist

A&J M.L.

Taglist: if you want to be added lmk!

@stevenandmarcslove

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs

@l3ejm

@kisekihany

@aureliacorvina

@marit332

@marsyay78

@small-town-wayward-daughter

@sugathy

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@silas-aeiou

If you don’t see yourself I might have missed you or I cannot tag you because it won’t let me. Lmk if you’ve already asked and was not tagged! I apologize if that happened!!!!

#twilight #twilight x reader #alice cullen #bella swan #carlisle cullen #jacob black #jasper whitlock #jasper hale x reader #alice cullen x reader #esme cullen #twilight imagine #rosalie twilight #the twilight saga #twilight saga #jasper cullen x reader #jasper cullen #jasper hale #jasper #edward cullen #x reader #rosalie lillian hale #rosalie x emmett #rosalie cullen #seth clearwater #billy black #charlie swan #emmett cullen #carlisle x esme #embry call #sam uley

[fagrights]

cries to my mom about this whole situation earlier tonight didn’t realize I was so upset about it but..

#took me a good 20 mins to get to the point cause emotions are hard but #i got there.. more like a whole day really #she has always meant so much to me to have her in my life and for her to think the opposite #that I hate her #and I could never hate her I don’t all I feel for her now and will continue to feel is love #but I cannot make her realize that and so I feel like I failed in some way #so it’s not only this ending that has made me sad it’s all the times i knew it would end up like this #she always saw it as inevitable (mostly a lot of that comes from her parents saying the same) but #can’t shake the fact that maybe it really was #it’s not even over yet either. like she’s my bff but also my cousin #she won’t just be out of my life #but I need to talk to her and I know how it will end. #her and her mom will see anything I say as me being a bad person #that it was so easy for me to end the bond we have #even though I never wanted it to be like this I never thought it would be like this

[aletterinthenameofsanity]

Y'know, there's this gripe I've had for years that really frustrates me, and it has to do with Love, Simon and people joking about it and calling it too-pg and designed-for-straight-people and all the like. (A similar thing has happened to Heartstopper, but that's another conversation.)

I saw Love, Simon in theaters when it came out my senior year in high school. I saw it three times, once with my friends/parents on opening night, once with my brother over spring break, and once with my grandparents.

On opening night, the air in the room was electric. It was palpable. Half the heads in there were dyed various colors. Queer kids were holding hands. We were all crying and laughing and cheering as a group. My friends grabbed my hands at the part where Simon was outed and didn't let go until his parents were saying that they accepted him. My friend came out to me as non-binary. Another person in our group admitted that she had feelings for girls. It was incredible. I left shaking. This was the first mainstream queer romance movie that had ever been produced by one of the main five studios, and I know that sounds like another "first queer character from Disney" bit but you have to understand that even in 2018 this was groundbreaking. Getting to have a sweet queer rom-com where the main character was told that he got "to breathe now" after coming out meant so much to me and my friends.

But also, from a designed-for-straight-people POV (which, to be frank, it was written by a bisexual author and directed by a gay man, this was not designed for straight audiences), why is it a bad thing that it appealed to the widest possible audience? That it could make my parents and grandparents see things in a new light? My stepdad wasn't at all interested in rom-coms but he saw it with me because it was something I cared about and he hugged me when we came out of the theater. My very Catholic grandparents watched it with me and though my grandpa said he still didn't quite understand the whole 'gay thing,' all he wanted was for me to be happy and to have a happy ending like Simon did. My Nana actually cried when Simon came out and squeeze my hand when his mother told him he could breathe.

And when Martin blackmailed Simon, my mom, badass ally that she is, literally hissed "Dropkick him. Dropkick him in the balls" leading to multiple queer kids in the audience to laugh or smile. Having my parents there- the only parents, by the way, out of my group of queer and questioning friends- made multiple people realize that supportive adults were out there. That parents like those in Love, Simon do exist in real life.

When people complain about Heartstopper not being realistic or Love, Simon being too cutesy, I remember seeing Love, Simon on opening night. I remember my friend coming out and my stepdad hugging me and my mom defending us through this character. I remember the cheers that went through the audience when Bram and Simon kissed and the chatter in the foyer after the movie was over and the way that this movie made me understand that happy endings do exist.

Queer kids need happy endings. Straight people need entry points to becoming allies. Both of these things can come together in beautiful ways. They can find out about more queer culture later, but for now, let them have this. Let them all have a glimpse at a better, happier world. Let them have queer joy.

#love simon #simon vs thsa #simon spier #spierfeld #bram greenfeld #my experiences #meta #the importance of queer joy #heartstopper #becky albertalli #my mom also watched rwrb with me last year when it premiered #and let me tell you that was interesting sitting in the room with her for an r-rated romance movie like that

[ieirism]

crybaby.

pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader

setting: modern au

genre: smut and fluff

contains: brother’s best friend gojo, protective older brother geto, use of pet names (baby, princess, sweetheart), unprotected sex, slightly mean gojo (but he ends up soft and sweet, I promise), dirty talk, overstimulation, mutual pining, dacryphilia, oral (f receiving), cheesy and happy ending <3

summary: satoru had promised suguru that there'd be no funny business while he takes care of his heartbroken baby sister... but he's never been the greatest at keeping promises.

“Stop being so mean to her, Satoru.” Satoru looks over at his best friend, who's clicking his tongue in disapproval, with a nonchalant grin.

“Not my fault she’s such a crybaby, Suguru.”

“Come on.” Suguru shoots him a warning look. “That’s my little sister you're talking about.”

“Hey, hey,” Satoru laughs, raising his hands in mock defense. “You gotta teach her how to grow thicker skin. Not my problem.”

“Every time you come over, she ends up crying.” The black-haired man sighs. “Don’t be a jerk just for one moment, won’t you?”

“Mmh, no promises.” Satoru grins. Sue him, he’s simply too addicted to the way your face scrunches up indignantly whenever he teases you, the futile yet endearing clenching of your small fists at your side, and most of all, the uncontrollable blubbers that leave your lips as tears roll down your cheeks.

Years later, you’re still the same. Just a little crybaby coming apart at the seams, completely at Gojo Satoru’s mercy.

-

“S-Satoru…” The high-pitched whine of his name only elicits a laugh from the man between your legs, sending shock waves of pleasure shooting through your body.

“Baby, you gotta stop movin’ so much.” Satoru’s large hands grip your thighs, holding them firmly in place as he continues to feast on your dripping pussy. “Gotta let me eat you properly.” He punctuates his point with a loud suck on your clit that has you mewling and twitching under his hold.

“T-Too much!” You sob, hands curling into the silky white stands on his head, tugging uselessly. “S’too much, S-Satoru…”

“You wanna take my cock later, princess?” He hums against your cunt, licking a hot stripe up your slit, chuckling as he watches your pussy clench around nothing. His gaze lazily travels upwards, greeted with the sight of you nodding furiously as tears stream down your cheeks.

“Yes,” you plead with wide, teary eyes. “N-need you.” Satoru smirks.

“Then be a good girl and let me prep you,” he coos, before diving right back between your folds, enjoying the broken sob that leaves your lips as he draws zigzags across your swollen clit.

-

“I really don’t understand you,” Suguru bristles, frustration evident by the way his eyebrows furrow as he eyes Satoru.

“Hmm?” Satoru looks at him with feigned innocence. “Whatever could you be talking about, dear Suguru?”

“You’re unbelievable.” He sighs. “Those gifts you bought her… they’re worth almost a million yen. What the hell is wrong with you, really.”

“Well, you told me I made her cry.” The white-haired man shrugged. “I had to make up for it, didn’t I?” Suguru squints suspiciously, at a brief loss for words.

“...You are not normal,” he finally scoffs.

“Of course not,” Satoru agrees, unfazed.

“You can’t keep doing this. You’re gonna end up spoiling her.”

“And what’s so bad about that?”

-

“Gimme another one, baby.” He’s faintly aware that if he makes you cum again, you really might pass out. However, he can’t really bring himself to be too concerned about that, not when he’s quickly becoming addicted to the taste of your dripping cunt and cries of pleasure.

“C-Can’t, I can’t — “ You sob, entire body shaking around his mouth; you’re so sensitive.

“You can,” he insists between hungry slurps, not letting any of your arousal go to waste. “Fuck…” You’re so sweet. Just how did he survive this long without having a taste of you?

“Please…” You’re still shy, trying your best to stifle your cries even as they fall in a steady stream from your trembling lips. Each loud squelch of your sopping pussy still has you cringing a little, not to mention the embarrassment that washes over you every time you catch a glimpse of your juices all over Satoru’s face.

“Don’t hold back anymore, sweetheart.” He reaches up to grab your wrists, pulling them away from your mouth even as you blubber out a weak protest. “Wanna hear you this time, say it loud. Say my name when you cum.” One more combined thrust of his fingers, deep into your hole with a flick of his tongue across your clit has you creaming on his lips for the fourth time.

“S-Satoru!” You’re unable to control the beautifully loud whine of his name as Satoru greets your orgasm eagerly, savoring every last drop of your release on his tongue.

-

“You made her cry again.” Suguru says, rolling his eyes as he approaches his best friend at their meeting spot.

“Huh?” Satoru raises a brow. “Haven’t even seen her since two weeks ago. What’d I do?”

“She’s sad you’re moving away.” Suguru tuts. “Can’t imagine why. Probably because she won’t be able to use you for your wallet anymore.”

“You implyin’ I’m just a wallet to her?” Satoru exclaims, a little offended. The black-haired man shoots him a deadpan glare.

“You know you’re not. But even you’re not enough of an asshole to use that against her.”

“It’s just college,” Satoru muses. “Kid thinks I won’t be back for her?”

“In two years she’ll be going off to college too.” Suguru shrugs. “She’ll get over you.”

“What a cruel thing to say.” Satoru laughs it off, ignoring the small flicker of jealousy that flares to life deep in his chest.

-

Satoru watches as your chest heaves up and down, in your effort to try to recover from the multiple orgasms he had just given you. You’re lying limp on your bed, unable to move save for the periodic twitching of your thighs.

“Sorry, princess, was that too much?” He’s teasing, but there’s a genuine edge of concern to his voice as he cups your cheek in his hand. You nod, a few tears falling down your face. “Aww, forgive me. You’ll forgive me, right?” In response, you tug weakly on his shirt collar, asking him to come closer. He relents, allowing you to drag him down towards you. Satoru’s about to ask what you need, before you suddenly tilt your head upwards to kiss him.

Satoru lets out a small noise of surprise as your soft lips press against his, hesitant at first, but deepening once your fingers find further purchase in his shirt, gripping tightly. He wraps his arms around you, pulling you up into his lap.

You kiss him a little clumsily, still boneless from your release but Satoru doesn’t mind. Doesn’t mind at all, of course, when your lips are so soft against his, and he can swallow every quiet whimper that escapes you.

“Satoru…” Your voice is raspy and small, but your eyes are wild as you cling helplessly to him. “A-Am… Am I ready yet?” His jaw goes slack in awe at the adorable, troubled expression on your face. Your lips are swollen into a permanent pout now as you look up at him with those wide doe eyes that always had him weak.

“...Think you are,” he heaves, realizing that he’s just as fucked out as you are. It takes everything in him to hold back the urge to just take you.

-

“She’s grown up.” Satoru raises his eyebrows in pleasant surprise at the pictures that Suguru shows him. Your family had recently gone on vacation, so Suguru had been gone for an entire week, leaving his best friend and roommate all alone.

“That’s what you’re looking at?” Suguru shoots him an annoyed look.

“Oh,” says Satoru, glancing back at the picture. “Uh, nice waterfall.”

“One of the seven natural wonders of the world and all you can see is my baby sister.” Suguru exhales deeply.

“What? You can’t blame me too much. Kid’s changed,” the white-haired man shoots defensively.

“She’s twenty, not sixteen anymore. Of course, she’s changed.” Suguru pinches the bridge of his nose. 

“I know that, I just…” Satoru pauses, glancing back at the picture. You’re still tiny, only reaching up to your brother’s, and by extension his, chest. Your face has matured, though, baby fat gone from your cheeks. That didn’t stop you from being any less adorable, though — your smile is as radiant as ever. He can’t help but let a small smile of his own slip onto his face.

“Hopeless,” Suguru mutters in disbelief. “Hopeless, the both of you.”

“Huh?”

“Nothing.”

-

Satoru lets you unbutton his shirt, watching in amusement as your eyes narrow with focus as each button pops open, slowly revealing more and more of his skin.

“Um…” You’re nervous. It’s plain as day from the way your lip wobbles as your eyes sweep down the view of his chiseled chest and torso, only to end at the prominent bulge in his slacks.

“You sure you’re okay with this, princess?” He cups your chin in his hand, gently tilting your face to look straight at him. “Need to rest?”

“N-No!” You protest immediately, shaking your head. “I…” You glance back down at his erection, a flicker of desire in your eyes. “I need…” You trail off, unable to say it.

“Okay.” If he was feeling meaner, he would make you tell him exactly what you want. But he wants to be nice today, especially since you’ve already cried so much for him. “Okay, baby. Don’t worry, you’ll have it. Can you unzip me? Can you do that for me?” You hesitate for a moment. Satoru briefly wonders if he’s perhaps pushed you a bit too hard.

But then you’re reaching for him, small hands finding the top of his pants and slowly undoing the button. Your fingers close around his zipper, slowly tugging it down.

“Good girl.” He pecks your forehead. “Take me out of my boxers, alright?” As his angry, swollen cock springs free from his underwear, you can’t contain your gasp.

“Oh…” The soft sound leaves you almost involuntarily as you stare and wonder at how the hell that’s gonna fit in you. He’s thick and long, rock hard and dripping with pre-cum. You slowly wrap your own hand around his cock, lips parting as your fingers fail to meet in the middle. Your own pussy clenches in a combination of fear and excitement.

“See why I needed to prepare you, now?”

-

“Sorry to spring this onto you all of a sudden, especially since you just got into town.” Suguru sighs over the phone.

“Don’t worry about it. If you’re not around to take care of her, duty falls on me,” says Satoru as he reverses his car out of the parking lot, heading to the location Suguru had sent him.

“Let me know when she’s home safe. Tell her I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Yeah, will do.”

A pause.

“And… no funny business, got it?”

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about.”

“I’m serious, Satoru. She just confronted her asshole cheater ex. She doesn’t need you drooling all over her right now.”

“Relax, dude. I’m not that desperate.” Satoru rolls his eyes.

“Good. Keep it that way.”

-

His conversation with Suguru lies in the back of his mind, forgotten, as Satoru places a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Lay back and relax for me, sweetheart.” You immediately obey, laying yourself down on your bed, heart beating fast in anticipation.

“S’gonna hurt, right?” you ask softly.

“Don’t worry, baby. I’ve gotten you ready, see?” Satoru comforts you, brushing his fingers against the wetness still soaking your entrance.

“Oh.” Tears suddenly well in your eyes. “Um, s-sorry, it just always hurt with him…”

“What?” Satoru’s eyes darken, unsure if you mean what he thinks you do.

“He just…” You bite your lip, trying not to let your tears fall. “H-He just p-put it in, y’know?” His heart drops in his stomach. Two years, two whole fucking years with that asshole, and he had never given you proper foreplay? No wonder you were so sensitive and responsive to his touch, your body had never received the attention it’s always deserved.

“Baby.” Satoru squeezes your hand, fighting down the urge to find that asshole and beat him up. That could come later. Right now, he has to focus on you. “It’s not gonna be that way this time. Not with me. Okay?” You nod, squeezing his hand in return.

“O-Okay.”

-

It’s the first time he’s seen you in person in four years, and here you are in the passenger seat of his car, crying your eyes out.

You feel absolutely humiliated. You had called Suguru to ask him to pick you up from your ex-boyfriend’s house after you dumped him, but he had told you he couldn’t.

“I’ll send someone to get you. Hang tight,” he’d said.

You just didn’t know it was going to be Gojo Satoru, who hadn’t returned to your hometown since he graduated high school.

“I’m gonna bring you home,” Satoru had told you, getting out of the driver’s seat to open the car door for you. “Relax, okay? You’re safe now.” He had buckled your seatbelt for you before settling in himself, starting the engine without another word.

The car ride back to your house is silent, save for the continuous sniffles that wrack your body as you try your best to stop your tears. Satoru silently puts a box of tissues in your lap at some point, and your heart stutters at the action.

You’ve known for many years now, that you never got over your first love.

-

Clothes fully discarded, Satoru lowers himself on top of you, enamored with the way you shyly glance down at`his cock, gaze wavering for a moment before slowly looking back up at him, eyes begging for him to do something.

“Tell me if you want to stop.” He brushes his fingers, tender and gentle, across your cheek. You nod, hand curling around his bicep.

“Kiss me,” you request, and he gladly obliges, leaning down to peck your lips.

“M’gonna go slow,” he tells you. “You want me to stop, hit me real hard — “ He smacks his own chest. “ — Right here. Got it?”

“I won’t,” you say bravely, eyes glimmering with determination. “I… I can take it.” Satoru laughs quietly.

“Alright, princess. Don’t act all cute, you’re just rilin’ me up now.” You smile, a little mischievously.

“Oh, you caught me.”

“Fuck…” Satoru groans, pressing his forehead against yours. “You’re gonna kill me.” His fat tip taps against your clit once, twice. You gasp, eyes going glossy as you feel your swollen pussy clench desperately around nothing.

“Satoru,” you plead. “P-Please…”

“I’ll give you what you need. Relax for me…” He aligns his tip with your entrance, prodding between your folds. Inch by inch, he sinks his cock into your warm, throbbing cunt, almost blacking out himself at the sensation of your tight, velvety walls clamping around his cock.

“A-Ah…!” You whine, gripping his bicep and squeezing your eyes shut. The stretch is almost too much, but the delicious sensation of being filled to the brim has you seeing stars.

“You okay?” Satoru pants, willing himself to stop from splitting you open on his cock to check on you.

“Yes,” you whimper. “Yes, a-ah, please k-keep going…” Satoru rests his head in the crook of your neck as he continues to push himself in, enjoying the soft, labored whimpers as you take more and more of him, deep into your sopping hole.

“Almost there,” he coos. “Almost there, princess…” After what feels like an eternity, he finally sheaths the last of him in you, biting at your shoulder as he finally, finally feels exactly the sensation of being one with you.

-

“Drink. You’ll feel better.” Satoru places a glass of water in your hand as he leads you to your living room couch. You stubbornly refuse to look at him, letting the glass sit uselessly in your hand as you stare down at your lap.

He sighs, not sure what he should do. He’s never been good at comforting others, let alone his friends’ kid sisters. He knows you’re not a kid anymore, you’re a full grown adult, but the way you’re sulking and ignoring him says otherwise. Still, his fondness for you wins above all else as he takes the water back and puts it on the coffee table, letting you sit in silence.

”You gonna be okay by yourself?” he asks instead. Satoru doesn’t want to leave you alone, but he’s not sure if his presence will even help. He hasn’t been an active part of your life in years, and he has a feeling that this incredibly vulnerable moment isn’t the best time to barge back in. You don’t reply, twiddling your thumbs.

“Call me if you need anything,” Satoru says hesitantly. “You have my number, right?” No response. “I’m gonna write it down for you.” He finds a spare stack of Post-Its and does just that. You don’t react even when he sticks the note right on top of your forehead, in a shitty attempt to lighten your mood. Your deadpan glare, so much like your brother’s tells him it did not work.

“Suguru’s gonna be back tomorrow,” he tells you, taking the note off and soothing the annoyed crease between your eyebrows. “Go get some rest now, yeah?” You look away. Satoru sighs. Seeing you upset like this hurts him way more than he would like to admit. “M’gonna leave. Get to bed soon.” He pats the top of your head, just like he always used to do, which always made you whine when he messed up your hair. You’re quiet now, not a peep of complaint leaving you.

He really misses hearing your voice.

“Bye, then.” Satoru’s about to turn around and leave, but you do something that seems to shock both of you. Your fingers curl and grab onto the hem of his collared shirt, stopping him in his tracks. He stares down at you in surprise, trying to process the sight of your small, thin fingers holding onto him for dear life.

“Stay.” The one word was enough to crumble his self-control.

-

You’re struggling to adjust to his size; he can tell from the way you’re digging your nails into his arm and the trembling of your thighs around his waist. Satoru stays still, waiting for your permission to go any further, right hand rubbing soothing circles on your hip.

“Don’t stress yourself, baby, just tell me what you want, when you want it,” he murmurs against your neck, waiting patiently, torturously, for permission to move.

You’re so overwhelmed by the sensation of being stuffed full; Satoru is much bigger than your ex-boyfriend and yet, the feeling isn’t painful. It’s so good, a throbbing ache that extends outwards from your core all the way to the top of your head and the tip of your toes. You can hardly form thoughts, let alone words, as your pussy stretches around him, trying to accommodate the sheer size of his cock.

A few more moments pass, and you feel like you’re going crazy. The feeling of being so, so full is one that you’ve never felt before, but you think you’re already addicted. Your thighs flex instinctively, closing tighter around Satoru’s waist and pushing his cock even deeper, pressing right against your sweet spot. You mewl, wrapping your arms around his neck, silently begging to be closer to him.

Satoru leans into the kiss you give him, groaning as your walls suddenly clench once around him, brain filling with nothing but white noise. “Fuck,” he grits out against your lips.  “Fuck, baby, I don’t know how much longer — “

“Move.” Your command is quiet. Satoru almost wonders if he’s misheard you. But one look into your pleading, begging eyes confirms what you want. Unable to hold back any longer, he pulls his hips upwards, snapping right back into you with one long, hard thrust. You cry out, nails sinking into his shoulder blades.“M-More,” you whisper. “Need more.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

-

Satoru’s at a loss for words and actions as you stood on your tiptoes, reaching up and bringing his head down to kiss him. His arms instinctively wrap around your waist to steady you, craning his neck to allow you better access — oh shit, what the hell is he doing?

He lets go of you like he’s touched something on fire, pulling back from the kiss. As your heels land back on the ground with a soft thud, he’s greeted by the sight of you looking like you’re about to cry again. “Wait — “ He reaches for you, but retracts his hand; he’s not sure if he can trust himself to stay in line. His heart is beating so fast, you had just kissed him, completely out of the blue.

Satoru knew about your crush on him when the two of you were younger. You started having feelings for him when you were thirteen and he was fifteen, making it painfully obvious. You followed him and Suguru around like a lost puppy whenever he came over, despite Satoru’s constant teasing.

He thought your actions were funny at first, becoming the root of his continued teasing. Despite still making you cry all the time, you always came right back to greet him with a smile upon his very next visit. After a while, Satoru looked at you with fondness, in the way that one would gaze at a small animal. You were harmless, sweet, and so very adorable.

Satoru didn’t return your feelings at the time. You were just Suguru’s kid sister that he liked to toy with sometimes. You were awfully cute when you were mad.

But now, as you look up at him with desperation and longing, his heart clenches faintly in his chest. You’re so, so beautiful — the pictures Suguru had showed him hadn’t done you justice in the slightest. You somehow look so enchantingly gorgeous at this moment, even with tears glistening in your eyes and rolling down your cheeks.

Would you hit him if he tried to wipe away your tears?

He never gets to find out, because you speak his name softly, drawing him in like a moth to a flame. Satoru leans down to carefully listen to what you have to say. “W-Want you.”

-

“So good, so fuckin’ good for me, princess,” Satoru groans, reveling in the dizzying heat of your pussy as he drags his cock in and out of your walls, fucking you at a steady pace. “You feel me in there? You feel me in your little cunt?”

“Y-Yes,” you manage to sob out between moans, each rough snap of his hips into you melting your brain into jelly just a little more. 

“What a perfect lil pussy,” He chuckles as you squeal after a rather rough thrust, the loud squelch of your hole sucking him in echoing through the room. “No sane person in this world would ever give this up this tight wet cunt.” You whine at his filthy words, drool dripping out of the side of your mouth as Satoru continues to ram into you, faster, harder.

“Satoru!” You’re crying out his name over and over, legs wrapped firmly around his waist, pushing him deeper and deeper. “S-Satoru, I-I — “

“You likin’ this, baby? Tell me how much you like this,” he coos into your ear, hand reaching down to rub at your swollen clit.

“I l-like it s-so much, i-it’s so ahh…! I-it’s so good,” you sob out. You never thought sex could feel like this — you never understood why the people around you were so obsessed with it, especially with the treatment you received from your ex.

Now, though, as each rut of Satoru’s dick into your cunt kisses your sweet spot, you get it. You don’t know if you’ll ever be able to forget this feeling of being filled by cock so brutally sweet.

-

“Hold on.” Satoru had tried to protest, he really had. You’d just broken up with your boyfriend. Like Suguru said, the last thing you needed was any funny business. “Listen — “ He sighs out your name, making your bottom lip wobble. “You have to go rest, don’t be reckless.”

“Please.” You tug at his sleeve, staring at him with that puppy-eyed look that always gets you what you want. He really had spoiled you, hadn’t he?

“Not now,” he tried to reason with you. “You’re still hurting, you’re not in the right mind.” You glare at him.

“Who’re you to say m’not in the right mind?” you whine. “I…” You suddenly seem to lose your confidence, staring down at the floor. “...I only ever wanted you.”

“What?” Satoru stares, wide-eyed, at your confession.

“Know you don’t want me that way,” you continue, voice small. “But I… don’t care.” You sniffle. “Don’t care, Satoru. Just want you.”

And when you tug desperately at his shirt again, this time, Satoru is too far gone.

-

“Fuck, I’m close.” He growls into your neck, his pace picking up as he chases after his release, He coaxes you to join him, thumbing at your clit and cooing for you to “Let go, cum for me, c’mon. Cream all over my cock, princess.”

The only sounds in the room are a symphony of your moans and the slick sounds of his cock pushing in and out of your hole as a coil forms deep in your gut, threatening to snap at any moment. You feel tears stain your cheeks as Satoru’s pace increases, pounding into you so deep you can practically feel him in your throat.

“S-Satoru, I’m g-gonna — !” You cut yourself off with a loud, lewd moan, cunt clenching down hard around him as you come undone for the fifth time just this night. You swear you lose consciousness for a second, lost in the euphoric feeling of your release as your swollen pussy throbs in satisfaction.

“Shit..“ A few quick, shallow thrusts later, Satoru finishes as well, thick ropes of cum splurting into your womb, filling you with a warm sensation.

“A-Ah…” you whimper out, pussy fluttering weakly around his softening cock, which is still fully sheathed inside you. A white ring remains on his dick as he gently pulls himself off of you, cum dripping from your spent pussy onto the sheets. Satoru tuts, placing a pillow under your hips so you won’t leak.

You’re only faintly aware of what he’s doing as he leaves briefly and returns with a warm, wet towel, gently asking you to open your legs for him. You obey, but you’re so exhausted you can’t help it as your eyes droop shut. The last thing you remember before falling asleep is Satoru leaning forward to peck your forehead, praising you for taking him so well.

-

You wake up a few hours later to sunlight streaming through your bedroom window, making you squint a little as you sit up in bed. You immediately gasp at the ache between your legs, and the soreness racing up and down your body.

Memories of the previous night come flooding back as a sleepy groan sounds from next to you. Satoru stirs, awakened by your panicked sound, asking softly, “You okay, baby?”

Oh god. Shit. Fuck. You actually had sex with Gojo Satoru.

“Hmm?” He looks a little concerned at your lack of response, pulling you against him. “What’s wrong, sweetheart? You in pain? Sorry, did my best to clean you up and everything.” Only then do you realize that the place between your thighs is no longer sticky, and that you’re wearing a fresh set of underwear with Satoru’s unbuttoned shirt wrapped around you.

“...What did we do?” You whisper in a muddled mixture of shock and amazement.

“You regret it?” he asks carefully, pulling back a little to gauge your reaction. You shake your head vehemently, snuggling back close to him. You breathe in his scent, eyes fluttering closed. You feel so right at home in his arms.

“No.” You ponder for a bit. “But it’s never gonna happen again, right?” Satoru’s breath catches in his throat.

“What?”

“I know last night might’ve given you the wrong impression.” You swallow hard, trying to contain the feelings bubbling up within you. Satoru just looks so beautiful under the morning sun, his crystal blue eyes glittering in the light. You know you’re not mistaken, you’ve never been so sure about it — you love him. “I don’t… do this. Thank you for being with me for this one night, but…” you trail off.

“Hey, hey.” You’re crying again, and this time, Satoru wipes the tears off your cheek, cupping your face between his hands. “What’re you talkin’ about?”

“Don’t want just this from you,” you continue vaguely, looking away shamefully. “But I don’t… I don’t expect you to want the same.” He stills at your words, trying to decipher them properly.

“You still in love with me?” He deciphered them spot on, but that doesn’t stop a humiliated squeak from leaving you. You’re huffing, face on fire with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment.

“F-Fine, whatever! You know already, so…” You look away, gnawing at your lower lip. “That’s w-why — “

“Don’t really know why you’re so upset, princess,” he cuts you off, pulling you out of the downward spiral he sees you’re about to fall into. “Think…” Satoru pauses to swipe at a tear at the corner of your eyes. “Still such a crybaby,” he can’t help but say, watching with amusement as you scowl at him with all the ferocity of an angry kitten.

“Ugh, jerk! Four years later and you still can’t take me seriously, God, why do I even bo — “ He cuts you off again, this time with a kiss. When he pulls away, he’s smiling gently, chuckling at your dumbfounded expression.

“Think I love you too,” he finishes. “So you’ve got nothing to worry about.” A few moments pass.

“...Are you fucking with me?” You look him dead in the eye.

“Technically, I already did,” he replies cheerfully. You look at him in disbelief. “Okay, sorry, sorry, sweetheart. Let me spell it out for you.” Satoru holds you close to him, tracing slow, comforting circles along your back. “Be my girlfriend?”

You answer him with a kiss of your own.

-

Suguru sighs, fishing in his pocket for his house keys as he approaches the front door. He’s worried about you; although the bastard had cheated on you and deserved to have you dump him, he knows you’re still probably heartbroken.

Or at least a little heartbroken. Suguru’s aware you never really that into your ex, if your drunk phone calls about how much you miss Satoru were enough evidence. Hiding those from his best friend was tough work; he would have to sit in the bathroom or the closet with his headphones and speak as quietly and carefully as possible to not rouse any suspicion.

Either way, he knows you definitely need some cheering up right now. He’s brought you a box of cupcakes from your favorite bakery, hoping it would be enough to at least get you in a talking mood.

Imagine his surprise when he opens the door and the first thing he sees is Gojo Satoru. Not only is Gojo Satoru standing in his kitchen, but he’s wearing Suguru’s apron, a gift from you many Christmases ago. To make things worse, he’s nearly butt naked under it, only wearing a pair of boxers that are — wait a second, are those Suguru’s as well?

“Oh hey, Suguru!” If Satoru is nervous or embarrassed, he plays it off well as he turns around and waves, flashing the stupid, faded picture of Remy from Ratatouille on his apron right in Suguru’s face. “You hungry? Was just makin’ some eggs.”

“What the actual fuck,” Suguru grits out, putting two and two together as you choose that moment to wander out into the kitchen, wearing nothing but an unfamiliar collared button down that reaches down nearly to your knees. Satoru’s.

“S-Sugu.” Your eyes go round, stopping in your tracks. No one speaks for a moment. Satoru’s still happily cooking eggs. Suguru’s expression is stone cold. You’re staring at your brother with embarrassment written all over your face.

“Baby, you ready for food?” Satoru steps away from the stove to wrap an arm around your waist, smooching you on top of your head. You make a stuttered noise under your breath, glancing back at your brother.

Suguru’s smiling now, but not in the traditional sense. He looks almost maniacal as he slowly places the box of cupcakes on the table before locking eyes with Satoru. Finally, the white-haired man has enough shame for his casual grin to falter.

“What happened to no funny business?”

Satoru is forced to abandon the stove, running away from a fuming Suguru chasing after him with the first thing he could find on the dining table — a carrot.

“Sugu, stop, it’s okay — “ Your pleas fall on deaf ears as your brother is hell-bent on finding a way to murder his best friend with a vegetable. You sigh deeply, moving to go after them when you suddenly smell something burning. Your head snaps to where the eggs Satoru was cooking are now sitting blackened over the flame.

Needless to say, the first morning with Gojo Satoru as your official boyfriend was far from perfect.

Thankfully, you would have many, many more mornings with him, each more wonderful than the last, that this one quickly faded from importance.

But not from Suguru’s.

“I still remember,” Suguru says, clearing his throat for dramatic effect. “When I opened the door on that one morning, and you were not only in my house, but you were half-naked wearing my apron and my underwear — “

Satoru groans as the audience bursts into laughter at his best man’s speech, burying his face in your shoulder. You’re giggling right along with them, sparing your new husband a peck on the cheek as his best friend continues to tear him apart.

“Then you had the audacity to pretend nothing was wrong — “

Satoru knew he would never live this down, but he had zero regrets. Not when you’re sitting right next to him in a pretty white dress holding his hand under the table.

“Well.” Suguru looks over at him, raising a brow. “Got anything to say?” Satoru takes the mic from him, face splitting into a shit-eating grin as he says two words:

“Worth it.”

#gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #gojo smut #jjk smut #gojo x you #reader insert #female reader #jjk fluff #gojo fluff #jjk imagines #jjk scenarios

[lovelyghst]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[riediaries]

your daughter's favorite routine in the morning is definitely waking her daddy with kisses all over his face.

"g'morning mommy.. pee.." your sleepy daughter makes her way to yours. you're in the bathroom busy preparing yourself for the day.

"good morning baby." you greet her back. "okay, sweetheart." you stop putting a lipstick and you help her to the toilet.

after that, you continue your routine but she stays on your side, watching you put on your lipstick.

"you're not going to wake up daddy, baby?" you ask her and she stares at you.

"mommy." she points her lips and the thing you're holding, the lipstick.

"yes.. lipstick?" you crouch down to her level. "why? is there something wrong with mommy's lipstick?"

she nods and points at her tiny plump lips again. "me too!"

you laugh, realizing what she meant but another idea comes to your pretty mind. you lift her up and gently put her beside the sink.

you start to rummage the insides of your pouch, finding a pink lipstick to match her pale skin she got from her father.

you hum happily as you opened the lipstick and twist it, revealing a pretty pinkish shade.

"what about you wake up daddy with this?" you suggest to her as you carefully apply the shade on her lips.

she gasps and agrees immediately. "yeah!"

you shush her and she giggles even more.

after you finish your routine in the bathroom, you put your daughter on your hip, carrying her to the bedroom, where your husband is sleeping.

putting her on the side of the bed, you nod and boom!

"daddy! good morning! wakey-wakey!" she kisses him, marking his pale skin on his cheek, nose, temple, forehead and chin pinkish but still unknown to the sleepy male. this made satoru wake up, he opens an eye to see his two sunshines.

you laugh at her excitement as she jumps on the bed and then, continuing her routine.

"good morning, babe." you leans down to give his pinkish lip a red mark from your lipstick.

he smiles and slowly got up then attacks his daughter by tickling her. "good morning, my sweet little mochi."

"kyaah! mommy! help!" your daughter tries to get off on his father's silly hands. you decided to join her father on tickling her and after a good few seconds, your daughter is breathless all from the giggles and laughs she suffered.

"daddy, your face is ridiculous right now." she suddenly mutters, seeing the cute little kiss marks on his face.

"what?" he raises an eyebrow and turns to look at you. panic begins to paint his face. "i haven't lost my beautiful blue eyes yet, right?! were my eyebrows shaved?!"

you burst out of laughing at his ridiculous assumes. and when you laughed, suspicious surfaces his face.

he hurriedly went to the bathroom to check as you and your partner-in-crime did nothing but to laugh at his state.

yes. he's ridiculous. ridiculously cute with those marks. maybe you should encourage your daughter to do it every morning starting from now on.

satoru sees his 'ridiculous' face his precious baby just called him and he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

in the corner of his eye, he spots the pouch that holds your make-ups. he grins at the thought.

it's payback time.

satoru grabs a bright red lipstick on your pouch and applied it on his lips messily. he doesn't care if it's messy or not. he just wants to do the same for the both of you.

he opens the door to the bedroom door and goes to the bed when the both of his girls are still in there.

he smiles cheekily as he traps your face. you widened your eyes in horror.

you just did your make-up!

"w-wai–" he cuts you off by kissing your lips and then proceeded to do his mission.

"satoru–"

everytime you open your mouth, he will immediately shuts you up, leaving your lips red kiss marks from him.

of course, the little girly tries to run away but he prevents it by trapping her lovingly, giving the same treatment to her.

and now, you're currently redoing your make up in the bathroom after scolding him, the door securely locked. and you end up being late for work.

#rie.writes #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #gojo fluff #girl dad gojo

[xinxiaogato]

— you're dating who!?

summary. no one believes that you’re dating the esteemed duke of the fortress of meropide. that man is only ever seen locking lips with the orifice of a teacup. however, all of that changes when you and your alleged “boyfriend” are invited to a coworker’s dinner party.

love interest. gn!reader x wriothesley.

warnings. unedited, cursing, bullying, attempted homewrecking, mentions of blood, murder, and assault (nothing crazy), slight angst, lack of communication, a bit suggestive (mentions of light bdsm).

word count. 2,187

note. happy late birthday to wriothesley! this shortfic was inspired by a scene from spy x family (iykyk). you are referred to as “reader” by the way!

while loading up your plate with chips and french fontainian onion dip, you could sense the smugness of your colleagues from all the way across the dining room.

“i mean, we all saw this coming, didn’t we?” one of them piped up with a snarky laugh.

another obnoxiously chortled in return. “i won't forget the day reader told us who could have possibly given them those flowers.”

“right!? and i’m lady furina!”

that joke rocked their worlds to the point that one person started choking on their garlic baguette. your eyes flitted over to your friend, pauline, who was shaking with rage beside you and on the verge of strangling someone.

“why i oughta give them a piece of my mind!” caterwauled pauline, but you perched a hand on her shoulder so that she wouldn’t go ballistic—even if it was on your behalf.

“can’t really blame them,” you conceded. “if you told me you were in a relationship with the iudex of fontaine, i would need a minute.”

“are you saying it’s impossible?”

“i’m saying it’s highly unlikely.”

“hmph! a girl can dream.” pauline haughtily raised her nose into the air and crossed her arms with indignation, which tugged your lips into a small smile. you knew she had your best interests in mind. since day dot, your coworkers were constantly unleashing a tirade of vitriol against you. “anyway, where’s your boyfriend? did he get caught up with something?”

“probably,” you ascertained, taking a sip of red wine. you looked for a seat to settle at; you couldn’t let your chips go cold. “he warned me that he might not make it in time for the party. a new batch of inmates was processed for registration today, and allegedly, they’re unruly.”

her eyes widened after connecting the dots. “are they related to the famous case of the missing paintings? they finally caught the culprits!?”

you raised an eyebrow. “you didn’t know? it’s all over the steambird.”

as you and pauline were sitting down, the hostess of the party, anaïs, and her entourage strode over with purpose. one of anaïs’s minions was the first to start yapping, “well, if it isn’t reader, the person dating the wolf!”

“more like the person who cried wolf!” followed anaïs, which made the group howl like hyenas.

rolling your eyes at their sneers, you replied, “where is your husband, anaïs? don’t tell me he’s at the office ‘working overtime’ with his assistant again.”

all of anaïs’s friends practically broke their necks to look at her.

“h-how did you know about that…!?” anaïs spluttered, her cheeks flared red. “that’s… that’s my personal affairs you’re airing to everyone!”

a follower of anaïs cupped a hand to her ear and hissed, “don’t you remember? reader is friends with charlotte, a journalist for the steambird. she’s notorious for her intel gathering so that she can compete with others for the juiciest scoops!”

“hey, hey, does charlotte know anything about monsieur neuvillette’s type?” pauline whispered to which you were about to answer—only for anaïs to grab your glass of wine.

“you think you’re so high and mighty all the time…!” anaïs said in a shrill voice, tears pricking the corners of her eyes. “at least i don’t pretend i’m the bitch of the lord of the fortress of meropide to get attention!”

“i think it would be better for you to channel your energy into divorcing that shitty excuse of a husband,” you corrected her, unfazed by the fact she was threateningly holding the drink above your head. “it’s not your fault that he’s a scumbag, so don’t stick around to see if he’ll change.”

something in anaïs seemed to falter at your words, but it was only for a moment. resentment got the best of her, and in the blink of an eye, red liquid was splashed onto your chest and dripping down your top, making bystanders gasp at the scene before them.

it kind of looked like you just got murdered.

“what is wrong with you!?” pauline furiously yelled after jumping up to shield you, who was still reeling from what happened. “how old are you to be acting like an immature brat!?”

as pauline and one of anaïs’s flunkies began to pull at each other’s hair, a different one pointed a finger into your face while cackling. “ha, serves you right! that outfit must have been dirt cheap anyway, so it couldn’t have been a total loss!”

“oh, you wouldn’t want your shoes ruined, right?” a second cooed, snatching them right off your feet and looking for the nearest window to chuck them out of. “don’t worry, i’ll dry them off for you!”

you got up to take them right back, but anaïs blocked your path, eyes narrowed into slits. “just admit it, reader,” she snarled. “you’re nothing but an attention-seeking whore for the fortress of meropide’s administrator, a goody two-shoes for our boss, and a laughing stock for all of fontaine. you’re nothing!”

“monsieur wriothesley!” a voice resounded from down the hallway, causing everyone in the dining room to freeze. “we’re so honored to have you join us! did lady anaïs invite you?”

before you knew it, a strong arm wrapped around your shoulders from behind to give you a tight squeeze, and a pair of lips kissed the top of your head.

“so sorry i’m late, my love,” a deep voice purred by your ear. “my hands were tied…”

his voice trailed off. wriothesley, whose sudden appearance had dropped every partygoer’s jaw, noticed that your top felt weirdly damp. when he craned his neck to investigate, his heart dropped to the bottom of his stomach. 

he immediately questioned if it was your blood or not.

“reader!” your boyfriend shouted, turning you around and holding you by the shoulders. a fear he had only felt as a teenager flooded rapidly into his system, and it was taking everything in him to not explode. “what happened to you? are you hurt!?”

you were still stunned in the aftermath, but you quickly collected yourself and placed your hands atop his. “no, no, i’m fine, wrio. i’m not hurt. it’s just red wine.”

“red… red wine?”

recovering from his initial shock, wriothesley twisted around, his jacket fluttering swiftly in tandem. his eyes took in the sight of an awestruck anaïs holding something behind her back and a petrified person clutching onto a pair of shoes (which explained why your dogs were out).

in a calm tone more terrifying than him speaking out of anger, wriothesley said to the hostess, “i apologize for souring the mood. however…” quickly, he engulfed your body with his jacket and swept you off your feet, hitching the air in your throat as he held you close to his chest. “my partner is not feeling well, so we’ll be taking our leave. we humbly thank you for the invitation.”

“b-but you just got here!” anaïs fretted.

her first mistake was revealing the wine glass she was desperately trying to hide earlier. in wriothesley’s realm, we call this a foul.

“reader was just a little tipsy and spilled a drink on themselves!” she crooned, tilting her head up at the duke and innocently batting her eyelashes. “why don’t you stay and become acquainted with your partner’s coworkers?”

her second foul: coveting a man in a relationship.

“i mean, they can’t be unwell to the point of needing to go home!”

her third: messing with reader. and three fouls meant a disqualification.

“heavens, no,” wriothesley insisted. “my partner’s health is my main priority, and time is of the essence. besides, the longer i remain, the less time i have to file a detailed report on an assault and battery that took place here.”

it became so quiet that you could hear a pin drop.

“a…assault…?” even through the makeup caked on anaïs’s face, you could see the color drain from it entirely. “what… what assault…!? no assault happened here, your grace!” when his frown spoke volumes, she cried out, “y-you don’t have any proof!”

“oh, i would suggest otherwise. and i believe there are many eyewitnesses to testify.”

you peered around at the guests who had gathered to view the spectacle, and they were nodding in support of wriothesley’s claim, including pauline. even anaïs’s goons were vehemently bobbing their heads up and down, still in disbelief that the man, the myth, the legend himself had graced them with his presence.

“now if you’ll excuse me…” with you firmly in his grasp, wriothesley approached the woman still clinging to your footwear, who immediately began to quiver. “i would like for you to return my partner’s shoes,” he ordered with a look as cold as ice.

“o-of course!” she stammered, extending the shoes toward him. “it was all in good fun, your grace!”

“oh, those aren’t mine,” he said with a cock of his head at your bare toes. “like i said, those belong to my partner.”

finally picking up what was he putting down, the lady shakily slipped your shoes back on your feet for which you glanced up at wriothesley with furrowed eyebrows. he only reacted with a smile that thawed the rigid expression on his face.

“i-i can’t possibly rot in jail!” anaïs was still making a fuss nearby. “i’m so young and beautiful! can’t you look past this, monsieur wriothesley…!? i’ll do anything!”

“well, it’s not something you’ll go to prison for, ma’am,” he said, not even sparing anaïs a glance as he headed for the front door, “but this misdemeanor will forever stain your official records and reputation… just as you stained my partner’s clothes.” (mic drop.)

and that was that. with a quick kiss on both cheeks from pauline, you exited the dead-quiet house in your boyfriend’s arms.

“wrio…” you murmured as he started walking in the direction of your home. “i’m really sorry for inconveniencing you.”

wriothesley momentarily stopped in his tracks to gaze down at you, his lips pursed before sighing. “no… don’t apologize, my love. i’m sorry for not arriving sooner.”

“but that isn’t your fault,” you pointed out.

a chuckle resonated from deep within his chest. “touché.”

however, his lightheartedness faded out with that chuckle when his hands gripped onto you tighter, as if you were about to dissolve into water at any moment.

“what happened, reader?” he croaked, displaying a side of him reserved for your eyes alone. “how long have they been treating you like this? and for you to not even give them a taste of the boxing skills i taught you for these kinds of situations…”

you clutched his jacket tighter to your body. “you already have so much on your plate. i could not dare to tell you something that may weigh on your conscience.”

“please,” he whispered. “i want you to weigh on my conscience.”

after a moment’s worth of hesitation, you finally gave in, explaining that the fresh bouquet of rainbow roses he sent to your office one morning sent your colleagues into a frenzy that turned your life into a nightmare. as you spoke, wriothesley’s expression became grimmer and grimmer. he couldn’t even fathom how much of a shitshow your company was for permitting the kind of behavior he merely glimpsed this evening.

and he couldn't bear the thought that you had been suffering alone for months.

“they didn’t believe me for a second, even when i had pictures of you and me framed on my desk. ‘oh, those must have been edited’.”

realizing wriothesley's muscles were so taut, you attempted to alleviate the atmosphere. “i guess no one can accept an ordinary office worker dating the administrator of the fortress of meropide. like, picture the tianquan of the liyue qixing with an npc.”

in any other situation, your boyfriend would be laughing, but certainly not this one. “no one can determine our relationship,” wriothesley stated with a clear veracity. “you are the light in my bleak world, reader, and nothing is allowed to take you away from me. if so, i will travel to the ends of teyvat to bring you back.”

he then grinned, showing off his cute canines. “and you bet i'll put my handcuffs to use.”

you slapped a hand to your forehead. “way to ruin the mood. i was just about to kiss you.”

in response, he grinded his knuckles into the top of your head, which made you yodel out in pain. “what was that for!?” you exclaimed.

“for not kissing me, but more importantly: for keeping a secret from me,” he clarified, his pale gray eyes twinkling under the moonlight. “no more of that, okay?”

you warmly smiled up at him and rested your head against his broad shoulder, completely wiped out from the party-turned-fiasco. “okay.”

as the two of you reached your abode, a question popped up in your mind. “were you serious about the handcuff thing?”

he smirked. “yes, and you’ll find out just how serious i am after we take a shower together. you reek of wine.”

a pink blush dusted your cheeks. “what? together!?”

“together. you and me.”

“ahhh! put me down!”

“nope. not a chance.”

© xinxiaogato. please do not translate my work without permission or attempt to plagiarize it.

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin impact x y/n #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #wriothesley x reader #fluff #crack #comfort #angst #stella writes — ! #you're dating who!?

[klyette]

8𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐍+ 𝐏𝐋𝐔𝐒 𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐍 !

# 𝜗𝜚relationships: multiple x fem ! # 𝜗𝜚contains: fem reader, smut, older men, tit playing + fondling, pussy spanking, choking, rough sex, squirting, clit rubbing + pinching, making out, pornhub themed, filming, big dick

𝜗𝜚 notes ! So each part has different kinks or smth like, tit play, clit toying, etc . ໒꒰ྀི ⸝⸝⸝ ꒱ა !

HE whispers in your ear, his big hand rubbing at your smooth skin, a camera in his other hand as he films your legs. He lifts the camera up to your lips, filming your soft lips that he adores kissing. Your breaths are heard, your chest going up and down, he moves the camera down at your tits. His calloused hand groping at your tits as you let out a whimper, the camera is still on your tits. His fingers playing with your nipples as he does it like he strums a string instrument. "Shh, you pretty thing~" He says, he kisses your breasts and fondles it before he changes the camera view.

HE points the camera at your wet sloppy cunt, his palm connecting to your wetness, he shows the camera. "Isn't she just a cutie? Already all wet, just cuz I played with her tits.." he says, his palm spanks your cunt, his finger rubs along with your slit. Your leg trembles as his finger rubs circles around your clit, his finger slightly touching your bud. "My pretty girl, aren't you?" He says, the camera filming your clit, as he toys with you. His thumb goes up to your clit, his big thumb hiding your clit behind his digit, he pushes slightly down on it, then he rubs at it. His thumb rubbing your clit as he films it, kissing and nibbling at your skin.

HE rubs your clit before sticking two of his fingers in your wetness, your juices staining his fingers as his fingers move in and out of you, his thumb still lays on your bud. His fingers do a scissor motion inside of you, your legs tremble as his fingers move faster in you. "Taking my fingers so well, aren't you just great, doll?" He says, grinning, he sticks another finger in and thrusts them into you, he slips them out of you, slurping up your juices off his fingers before he puts them back into you, he films himself coming closer to your wetness. His tongue licks at your cunt, his tongue flicking at your small bud, he smirks against your wetness. "Mmh, don't you taste amazing, atta girl~" he whispers against your cunt, moaning at your taste. Your legs shake and you cum, getting your juices on his tongue before he gets up and places the camera on the bed.

HE takes off his pants and his dick is so hard, it's standing tall and proud, his big dick twitches as pre-cum slightly comes out. "You are going to take me all, aren't you, baby?" He grabs your legs and hooks your legs under your arm, he kisses your tits before slipping his dick into you. His tip is only inside of you yet it feels big, the rest of his dick enters you, half of his dick is now into you. He slides easily, his hand grips your hips before he slams into you, groaning. The camera view is still on you, recording this sexual act between you two. "So tight, you are made for me." He says, closing his eyes as he fucks you, hitting your special spot which makes you clench around him harder. His head goes slightly back, your legs shake, and he kisses your inner thighs. Fucking you more harder, his hand goes down to your clit and his hand goes for the camera, recording his thumb rubbing your bud. His dick ramming into you, his dick aches into you, your cunt clenches around him so tight, his hand goes around your neck, choking you as he fucks you. You look up at him with tears brimming at your eyes, his hand still around your neck, your eyes roll back slightly. He pulls out, his dick pumping out his semen, coating your stomach in his whiteness, he furiously rubs at your clit, he lets go of your neck and points the camera at your wetness as you squirt. Getting your juices all over him and the bedsheet, it lands on the camera lens. "AHh!" You scream, your mouth opens and your eyes roll back to your skull. "You did so good for me, good girl~" he whispers, the video ends at the good girl.

Nanami , Toji , Alhaitham , Zhongli , Blade , Aiku , Gallagher , Chris Prince , Sanemi , Muzan + ur faves + other fandoms !

©kylette; no other claiming

#💋𝐘𝐋𝐄𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐄𝐒 #໒꒰ྀི kylette writes #genshin smut #genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact smut #honkai star rail x reader #honkai star rail smut #hsr x reader #hsr smut #jujutsu kaisen x readrr #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jjk smut #blue lock smut #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #bllk smut #demon slayer x reader #demon slayer smut #kny smut #kny x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #zhongli x reader #toji x reader #nanami x reader #Blade x reader #Gallagher x reader #aiku x reader

[lovebugism]

can i request angst☹️☹️shy!reader barely ever talking and being soo hyperaware of everything and steve slowly breaks her out of her shell? then she overhears him saying she talks too much and she just feels bad and reverts into herself

Angst w happy endingn if possible please ily!!🫶🏼

ty for requesting!! — steve tells you he likes when you talk a lot (shy!fem!r, hurt/comfort, established relationship, 1k)

Your smile is wide and unknowing. Steve thinks there’s something extra special about it because you don’t even realize it’s there. “—And since Eddie was working the register, he let me take one of the new tapes for free. You know, to try it or whatever, and he was all like, ‘flattery works with me,’ and I was like, Steve would keel over if he was here right now.”

A giggle spills from your mouth when your rambling ceases, lips curling and eyes crinkling.

Steve blinks at you with his own absentminded beam, too busy thinking about how pretty you are to react properly to your story. 

Your smile sobers slightly. “What?”

“Nothing,” he assures with the shake of his neatly styled head, rogue strands of chestnut hair draping his forehead. He shrugs and leans his elbows over the Family Video counter you stand across. “You’re just… You’re talking a lot. ’S nice.”

Your face heats. Your chest burns with a similar fire. Your eyes widen ‘cause you didn’t realize that you hadn’t shut up until now. “Oh… Sorry—”

“No, it’s good!” he tells you, laughing. “It’s a compliment.”

“Is it?”

“Yeah! I mean, I used to have to bribe you to get you to talk about your day. Remember that?”

Benny’s Burgers was your very best friend at the start of your relationship. Steve would always buy your dinner — not in exchange for you to talk exactly, but in the hopes that the additional time spent with you would help you open up. It did. Most of the time, anyway.

Your nose scrunches. “I thought you took me out because you liked me?”

“I took you out ‘cause I liked you and because the sugar rush from the milkshakes made you talk more.”

You nod once. “Right.”

The conversation ebbs. The store gets eerily silent without your voices to fill it. Steve, undeterred by the lapse in dialogue, flashes you a lopsided smile. “Wanna show me the tapes you bought?”

“Yeah,” you murmur and push off the counter. 

Steve watches you over his shoulder while you saunter down the hallway where your bag is kept. The breakroom door squeals open and shut again. A voice sounds suddenly from beside him. “Nice job, dingus,” Robin chides, gritty and montoned.

His head snaps to the other side, brows twisted with confusion. “What?”

“You hurt her feelings,” she answers like it’s obvious, dropping a stack of VHS tapes on the counter with a heavy thud.

“I didn’t even say anything!”

“You said she was talking a lot.”

“I said that I liked it!”

Robin rolls her ocean-blue eyes, huffing ‘cause he’s too oblivious to get the point. “Yeah, but if I said, Wow, you have a ton of gel in your hair— but it’s styled really nice today, it’d give you a whole complex. Wouldn’t it?”

The make-believe compliment is dreadfully backhanded. Steve’s face floods with a gentle horror, the realization of a fallacy he hadn’t realized he’d made. “Shit…”

“Exactly,” Robin deadpans. “Now go take care of your girlfriend, dingus.”

He finds you in the breakroom, idling in place. You’ve got the cassettes in your hands, and you fidget with them between anxious fingers — like you were planning to come out sometime, but not quite yet. 

You tense when the door creaks open, relaxing again when Steve enters.

“Whatcha doing?” he wonders with a crooked, pink smile.

“Getting the tapes,” you answer in a mousy voice, waving the pieces of plastic in your hand.

The door clicks shut behind him. He inches towards you, fond and terribly soft with it. “I missed you,” he confesses in a faint murmur. His wide palms settle on your sides. You warm instantly under his touch.

“I was gone for two seconds,” you respond with a quiet laugh.

“Yeah. And I felt like I was dying.”

You meet his pout with a small smile, blinking up at him with sparkling doe eyes. “You’re so dramatic.”

“I just love being around you, alright? Sue me,” he argues, squeezing softly at your hips. With a quieter smile, he confesses, “And when I said you were talking a lot— I didn’t mean anything by it, you know?”

You’d disappeared back here because you thought it was something silly to be so upset over. He’d told you it was a compliment, but it didn’t really feel like one. Your brain refused to be anything other than hurt by his well-intentioned remarks. The ache in your chest became unignorable, and you shrunk inside yourself accordingly.

“I know,” you murmur.

“I love hearing you talk,” he tells you, shy smirk widening to a lopsided beam. “It’s my favorite thing in the whole world, actually.”

Your lips purse to the side. Your anxious hands fidget with the plastic cassettes in your palms, aching to hold him. It takes you a moment or more to find the courage to speak. “I’m just… I’m normally super aware of… when I’m talking too much, you know? I was just… Excited, I guess.”

“You were. And it was really fuckin’ cute.” A laugh sputters from his lips. He wears all the love he has for you in the deep honey of his eyes, rich and swimming with warmth. “I love seeing you happy.”

“Well, you make me happy…” you whisper, gaze averted. “So, it fits…”

“Yeah, it does,” he murmurs in response, ducking down to kiss you. It’s chaste and terribly fleeting — lips locking together one moment and then smacking in protest when they separate the next. 

It takes your eyes a second too long to flutter open again after he’s pulled back from you. You find Steve already grinning as he nods to the tapes in your hands. “Wanna pop those into the radio? So we can listen to ‘em while I work?”

Your brows pinch with a distant worry. “Won’t Keith get mad?” 

“Probably,” Steve answers with an uncaring shrug. “You don’t have to worry about him, alright? I’ll take care of you.”

You melt.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfic #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #st drabbles #stevie drabble

[leclsrc]

wanna be nearer ✴︎ mv1

genre: 18+, fuck buddies ahhhaha, smut, porn w/o plot basically...

word count: 3.6k  

It seems every time you tell yourself to stop, Max comes back into your life and all sense of resolve crumbles. title from this

auds here… hiii :) req'd by SO MANY PEOPLE i can't even start compiling all the asks hahah but if u asked for this here it is! writing's been tuff for me lately but this was the one thing i could continue daily (weird) also there is a case to be made re: max's hottest pictures being like 1 pixel in resolution... hope u all like it!!!

nsfw warnings under the cut!

18+ because... sexual tension, penetrative sex, some vague sexting/a sex tape being watched, praise/dirty talk central, size kink, unprotected sex, handjob (f receiving), max being a meanie

It’s busy today. You haven’t seen him all day. 

To be fair, you weren’t necessarily looking—not at first, anyways. How many days had it been since the last time, now? The one in your hotel room? Almost two weeks, you think. The real answer’s blurry in your head, especially when you count the close calls, but this should be a record for you two at this point. Neither of you acknowledge that the only reason you’ve been so good at staying away from each other is because when you’re not roped into the same media junket, you avoid each other at all costs.

The media pen is full; everybody’s shoulder-to-shoulder because a few other networks bought their way into the space for the Singapore race. Right when your mind settles back into the focus of work, though—

“Here,” he says, his voice rough and tickling your ear. You nearly stumble forward, shocked at how his voice almost vibrates through you, a low trill that ripples top to bottom.

His hand settles at the small of your back, like his verbal confirmation wasn’t enough on its own; it’s big and his thumb rubs softly at the smooth strip of skin in-between your low skirt and your top. “Passing through.”

“Sure,” you say, dry. “Sorry.” You clear your throat and cant backwards into his touch—briefly, before you step forward and allow him to pass fully. Across you, Lissie looks up from her phone and you sense her trying to gauge why you’re so close to Max.

You blink and wait for him to disappear, wondering what you’ll tell her—how, more like. How the conversation even opens. How you’d phrase the truth, which in itself is a horribly grey area. Well, Lis, if you must know, Max and I have casual sex. A lot. It’s actually not very casual. We stopped now, but—yes, Max. That Max, yes. 

“What about Max?”

Your eyes snap upward and then to your left, where you can see Max’s figure disappearing into a crowd of engineers. They return to Lissie and you feign confusion to mask panic. “What?”

“You were spacing out and then suddenly said his name.” She presses the tip of her pen onto her chin, humming. She doesn’t look at you and you thank God for it—eye contact would’ve rattled the truth out of you in seconds.

“I…” You shake your head. “I was irritated with—I’ve been irritated with him all morning. It’s. Yeah.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding, looking away for a second but not pausing. “Oh, okay. D’you wanna go over this edit again?”

—

The stale air of his hotel room, alleviated only by the vaguely fragrant linen spray they use when he’s out, is what greets Max when he arrives in the afternoon.The first thing he does—the only task he’d even thought of en route here—after the door clicks shut is pull up his Messages app and type.

Just got to hotel. He tosses his phone onto the bed while he waits, tugs his cap off and rakes reckless fingers through his hair. His new stylist’s got him onto jeans that don’t “look painted on” (you once said, verbatim), but he’d rather die than lounge in denim, so he swaps them out for just his Calvins.

His mind’s lethargic, but even his version of lethargic is high-drive for others—his brain has the silly tendency to work in absolute overdrive. He itches for a drink and orders a Scotch on the telephone. He checks his phone, which is lying facedown still, and as soon as he picks it up it chimes with your reply.

OK, nice. Did u need something?

No, just wanted to let you know. He hits send, then adds another. You’re off @ 8?

Ended early, I’m in the car. He’s in the middle of drafting a response when you send a follow-up.

I thought we agreed no contact unless business

He scoffs out a dry laugh. Despite himself, he reads the text in your voice, his brain completing the image of the bossy tone with crossed arms and a wickedly arched brow. In response he types: Can’t even update a friend nowadays? I am very tired you know.

Rules are rules, he reads. Then, Get some rest.

Yeah. Got a drink.

I said rest, not drink. Even then he can hear the exasperation in your voice.

How was work? I hurt a muscle doing training. That’s why I’m at the hotel early.

Feel better soon, you send. Had some press stuff today. Boring shit

Yeah? I missed you today.

Really?

A lot. He hums and leans backward, lets his head settle into the pillow, the smell of the linen spray consuming his nostrils. He waits for his phone to buzz, vibrate softly on the hard surface of his chest. It does, after a few minutes, after he’s let his eyes shut and let himself rest them for a bit, after the room service comes knocking and gives him the Scotch he’d requested while ago.

He’s back sitting on his bed when it vibrates. He picks it up and reads: How much?

You’re awfully easy to rile up. He smiles around the rim of his glass—he knows exactly where this is heading. 

So much I think I’ll watch some videos of us.

The only caveat of casual sex as two people who essentially dislike each other is the fact that it’s all under wraps—which means if you two try to sneak off together, or are even caught in the same vicinity, people raise suspicions. And that means there are weeks where you barely get to fuck.

And that means you both grow antsy for it. He makes fun of you for being needy, when you’re tipsy and palming at the denim of his jeans or when you bend over when you know he’s looking. But the truth is he grows needy for it, too, craves you like you’re all that matters—he gets extra handsy, drops another innuendo when he knows you’re listening. There is a case to be made that he’s worse, in fact, because fans sometimes skirt around his words and wonder why he sounds so flirty when you’re the reporter in the room.

It was difficult but eventually he found a minor workaround: sometimes he films the two of you. There’s none of those propping his phone up kind of stuff, he just fishes for it in the middle of fucking you so he can store it for himself. It’s locked on his phone and he only has a few (the few has grown in number lately), but God it gives him release when he needs it and you’re not there.

I’ll call you when I’m at the lobby, comes the response. It’s always futile, the attempts to stay away from each other.

He pulls up the folder and lets his eyes skate over the thumbnails, squeezes himself through his boxers. Fuck. He can’t seem to decide what he wants to watch—the ones of you sucking him off, the ones of his fingers stretching you out. He recalls the whine in your voice in each of them, the pleads that escaped you for him to fuck you harder.

So Max, for the life of him, can’t even count how many times these videos have made him cum. But there’s one he hasn’t seen yet—the one he took the night before you two parted. You’d become extra needy on this night, preceding the season, he supposes, the separation. You already were anticipating the deprivation, starved for him more than usual. He’d have kissed you pretty, given you one orgasm after another and still you’d want more. And on this night it was you who asked him to film, you who wanted all of them on tape, so you’d both have something to tide you over until he got to fuck you again.

He pulls his cock out and strokes over it. And with his other hand, he presses his thumb on that video.

In it he’s fucking you in the dark, keeping the phone’s flashlight on your pussy as he sinks his cock into you. When he pulls back out the light reflects on the slick coating his dick, makes it glisten. It looks so wet, sounds so wet, with each thrust into you. He remembers just how it feels; he imagines that he’s back in your bed, fucking you again; that his fist is your pussy, and the spit lubricating it is the wetness that’s drooling out of you on camera.

He can see how tight you are—the way your pussy grips the shaft each time he pulls his cock out, greedy for him. Just like you.

The two of you were supposed to be quiet, too. You were at a hotel, your room beside another driver’s; you were supposed to be careful not to stir anyone. But your moans are louder than he remembers; so is the way you say, breathily, between gasps, Right there, Maxie, m’so close. Max inhales through his teeth, his cock throbbing at that—that Maxie, the cute little whimper out your mouth.

He strokes himself faster, watches the way your fingers slip into frame to rub at your clit, his thrusts getting sloppier and sloppier. He can see, hear—feel how wet you are, the sound of your cunt growing wetter with every thrust. He hears his own voice again, mutter out So good for me, yeah? And your babbled affirmation in response.

You cum hard, your slick getting everything wet and shiny and Max watches himself cum next. His dick’s already spurting when he pulls out and lets himself release on your lower stomach, some of it shooting onto your tits. He blinks, anchors himself back, quickens his wrist and digs his heels into the bed to keep himself from coming. Just a second longer. He knows what comes next and he needs to see it.

Like clockwork, he watches two of your fingers swipe through his cum, bringing them up to your lips. You blink up at the camera and smile. Quit it, your lips mouth, pink and cum-slick. Put it down, Maxie… fill me up again. He releases in weak spurts over his fist, a damp, flushed grunt escaping him as he does. He feels like the air’s been knocked out of him.

His phone rings and he presses it to his ear. “Hey, angel. Come on up.”

One week later

“Vodka,” you say to the bellboy when you get to the elevator. “To my hotel room. Very cold. Please. And thank you.”

The guy scurries off to fetch it for you, and five minutes and one elevator ride later, you're wrestling himself into your room, flexing your sore foot. Japan does hotel rooms well. The leather of your Manolo digs into your foot the way it does after you’ve walked the entire day and you can feel a blister forming on the back of your right heel but it doesn’t really matter, you guess, if you’re already home. Hotel-home, anyway.

You expect to find solace lounging on your bed, waiting out the hours to your morning briefing for the race and throw back a glass or two of vodka. 

Instead, you find Max on your couch. He’s sipping ice-cold vodka—your ice-cold vodka.

“Hey, pretty,” he says. “Good vodka. I got staff to wire my FIFA on the TV.”

You just stare. “My TV. What,” you say, your eyes spotting the bottle of frosty vodka by his glass, “are you doing here?”

“I hadn’t seen you all day and I wanted to,” he explains simply. “Do you want food or something?”

“Food? I—nevermind,” you shrug. You’re frozen by the door, only just warmed now from the cold air that bit at your bare legs. “Max, how long have you been here?”

“Since Will Buxton started the post-FP debrief,” he huffs. He fiddles with the remote in his grip and extends it to the TV, where FIFA comes to life. “Aw, come on, angel. I know, I know. No sex and all that. I just like your company, you know?”

“Please. Go fuck yourself,” you scoff, toeing off your shoes and wiping your hands on the fabric of your skirt. He says one thing but you expect another—it’s only natural, given all the other times one of you had failed to keep a similar promise. But still you walk yourself beside him, fix the strap of your short dress, and allow him to pour you a drink.

“You know what I’ve been thinking about lately?” He asks absently. “About how you’re always having these talks with me about… about not having sex anymore, but you never even last two days.” He raises you the glass. “What is it, relapsing?”

“Fuck you,” you mutter. “It’s only because you keep trying to get me all hot and bothered.” You recall each time: in Monaco, in Madrid, in France. “Maybe if you got off my back once in a while, we’d be back to normal.”

He shrugs. “You just don’t have strong resolve.”

“Excuse me?” You scoff, irritation scratching at your throat.

“Wanna test that out? Come play.”

Your eyes flit over to the bright screen, all exhaustion cleared from your system. An animated Kylian Mbappe kicks a football in a loop. “Fine. One round and you’re out of my room.” He throws his hands up in surrender and you make a move to sit next to him. Max puts his hands out towards you then, nodding. You mistake it for some handshake, accept them, and then he’s wrangle you onto his lap facing outward. You feel your pulse at your throat as he pulls you tight against him.

“This is cheating,” you say, your voice dry.

“You got it wrong. Teaching.”

He moves his fingers atop yours, explaining what to press, what goes where, what to do for this or that. He can smell your perfume, hear your stilted breaths, and when he peeks over your shoulder he can see where your dress falls loose, showing the lace of your bra and your tits underneath them.

If he had it his way, he’d hike your dress up and have you ride him. But he’s given you a challenge.

You play a practice round and end up scoring a few goals, fingers making quick work of the buttons. Behind you, Max watches, content, answering your questions when you ask them hurriedly—how do I do this? That? Did I just score?

You score once, then twice, then three times, and before you know it you’re scoring in quick succession. The game is fun—it’s easy. If Max was trying to give you a hard time, he failed. You grow determined, competitive within seconds (something he really should’ve anticipated), and you’re scoring goals with skill that you’d confidently say rivals Max’s.

Max. You almost—almost forget he’s there, and then you sit up straighter and you’re hit with the sensation of his dick pressing into your ass. You inhale sharply and the controller clatters to the floor.

“You okay, pretty?” His hand comes up to rest on your knee, inching closer and closer with every hitch of your breath. Your hand, now free of the controller, seizes his, stopping it right at the middle of your thigh. 

“I’m fine.”

“Yeah? You look stressed.” He doesn’t move. “You were so close, too, weren’t you?” The score stares you right in the face: 4-5. “Maybe you just need to get your mind off it.” It’s so bullshit, so extremely obvious, but he’s right in your ear and his hand is so near where you’ve missed its presence.

You’re usually competitive. You can usually hold your ground. But with this and him—

“Maybe,” you breathe, loosening your grip. He spreads his legs, spreading yours in the process, and brings his hand closer, running slender fingers over the lace material of your underwear until you’re squirming. It grows damper the more he touches, your mouth hanging open with stunted whimpers.

“You always come back to me, schatz, don’t you,” he says, whispers against your ear. You wrench a moan out. “Remember the first time? You interviewed me in Abu Dhabi… you teased me the whole day and begged to come thrice in my room. The time in Monaco you touched yourself to me when I was in the next room. The time we almost hooked up in Miami…” He groans, to himself more than you. “You’re a dirty girl.” He’s curling two fingers inside of you now, grazing against the sweet spot pulls the most delicious moans out of your innocent mouth.

“Every time… you go, that was the last time.” While your mind recaps the memories he’s busy spelling into your ear, Max’s fingers are curling inside of you against that sweet spot just right, and your moans are getting louder and louder.

“Fuck,” he huffs, watching your flushed face get more and more euphoric.

“Aw, pretty, look at that,” Max laughs. He’s looking at your thighs, watching the way they tense and shake as his fingers stroke your g spot. Each pump and curl into your twitching pussy feels better and better, and your dripping walls are starting to clench around his fingers.

“Wait, I—I can’t,” you pant, lolling your head onto his shoulder and involuntarily bucking your hips upward. 

“Yeah you can,” he orders. “It’s so easy to get you to cum, isn’t it? Or is that just for me? The driver you hate the most?” He laughs. “Get all wet for the guy you couldn’t care less about. Say you hate me and get my dick nice and wet the next day.” You’re grinding onto his three fingers now, shameless with it.

“Are you gonna cum?” He asks.

“Oh,” you whine. “Yeah, fuck—yes.”

“Tell me what you’re gonna do,” he says wickedly. You can hear him smile.

“I’m gonna—please—I’m gonna cum,” you pant, tension coming to a halt and then bursting all at once out of you. His other arm holds your hips down against him, and you spend a minute and another twitching, your skin sticky with sweat and slick.

It’s not long before you’re whirled back to face him, your hands making quick work of his jeans. It’s a skill you’ve both mastered, the art of the quickie—in closets, hotel rooms, with sweaty, open-mouthed kisses pressed along the column of your throat, moans swallowed. 

He hikes your dress up and your panties to the side, immediately bullies his cock into you—the glide is slow, but easy. You’re so fucking wet.

“Fucking big,” you gasp out. “Jesus, Jesus—fuck.” Your head drops and presses against his; he uses the opportunity to kiss you. You moan into it, feeling the stretch, your slick wetness dragging down the length of him as he thrusts up, up, further. “Been a while.”

“Feel good, though, yeah?” Your toes curl and you nod; you’re flushed all over and you need him to hurry up. You grind downward, onto him. He does, then, fucks you hard and fast, like he’s thirsted for this for way longer than he did. You’re squirming, all wet, and it tempts him to go harder. Your face is shiny with sweat, lips drawn in between your teeth.

“Slo—slow down,” you manage, babbling; he doesn’t, speeding up his thrusts until you’re moaning his name. “Max—wait—fuck, you’re so mean,” you whine, wrapping your arms around him and letting him take control. 

“You’re fine,” he grunts, pulling out almost all the way. “You take my dick so well, schatz, every fucking time. Don’t you?”

“I do,” you gasp out, and he’s slamming into you gain. You cry out loudly, sniffling from the overstimulation—you’d barely recovered from your initial orgasm and already you’re hurtling into what feels like three at the same time. 

“For someone who doesn’t like me,” he sneers, “you sure do moan like a slut, huh?”

His words get you more turned on than you’re willing to admit, but you shake your head.

“No?” He laughs, breathy from the effort. “Maybe I should film you now. Send it to your boss, let him see his stellar reporter’s getting Verstappen’s dick wet.” 

Finally, the tension building inside of you reaches a head, and your pussy starts to twitch around his dick. He notices, grunts sharply and leans forward, shuddering as he releases into you. Your moans are choked and tapering into whimpers as you release slick all over him, and you attempt to catch your breath, collapsing onto his still-clothed, now-sticky chest. You scratch at the dri-fit material and inhale him, the smell of his cologne, his sweat. You bite at his earlobe, laugh when he flinches.

“That,” you say into his skin, “was the last time.” It’s both seriously and as a joke, playing off of what he’d remarked earlier.

“Jesus, princess. I’m still inside you.” 

You giggle and drum lightly along the plane of his chest. In a few minutes he’ll pick you up to shower, but now you’re content to inhale him in. Quietly you wonder why you just can’t get enough of him—if you were in better senses, you’d have realized he was thinking the same thing about you.

#f1 #max verstappen #max verstappen smut #max verstappen imagines #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen x reader #f1 x reader

[pucksandpower]

Fashionably Challenged

Max Verstappen x Reader

Summary: you and Max may not exactly be the paddock’s most stylish couple, but you wouldn’t want it any other way

You wake up to the sound of Max rummaging through the closet of your shared hotel suite. Rolling over, you see him laying out two matching outfits — the Red Bull Racing team polos, skinny jeans, and sneakers you’ve grown accustomed to over the years.

One set for him, one set for you.

“Morning, liefje,” he says, catching your gaze. “I have our outfits for the day ready to go.”

You smile sleepily. “Thanks, babe. You know me too well.”

Max grins as he walks over and climbs back into bed, throwing an arm around you. “Of course I do. Can’t have my girlfriend showing up to races looking anything less than perfect.”

You laugh and playfully shove him. “Oh shut up. You know I’d show up in a potato sack if I could.”

“Don’t even joke about that,” he says with mock seriousness. “I would never let you embarrass me like that.”

“Embarrass you?” You scoff. “Please, like you even notice what I’m wearing half the time. You’re just as bad as me when it comes to fashion.”

Max opens his mouth to protest but then shuts it, shrugging in admission. “Okay, fair point. But that’s why I always get you the same thing I’m wearing. So there’s no way we can mess it up.”

You consider this for a moment. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. We make a pretty fashionably challenged couple.”

“The most fashionably challenged,” he agrees with a laugh. He pauses, gaze growing serious. “But I like it that way. I like that we match.”

Warmth blooms in your chest. “Me too.”

The morning passes quickly as you get ready for the race. True to form, you both pull on the matching outfits without a second thought. As you’re walking out to the car, Max stops you.

“Wait,” he says, taking your hand and turning you to face him. He looks you up and down appraisingly. “You look perfect, just like always.”

You can’t help but beam at the compliment. “Have I told you lately how much I love you?”

He grins. “Not nearly enough.”

“Well I do,” you say, leaning in to kiss him. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too, schatje,” Max murmurs against your lips. “Now let’s go kick some ass today.”

The race goes well, Max taking the checkered flag to the roar of the crowds. As you’re waiting to congratulate him, a podcaster approaches you with a microphone.

“Hi there,” she says brightly. “I’m Lottie from The Racing Line. I was wondering if I could ask you a couple quick questions?”

“Oh, um, sure,” you’re a bit caught off guard.

“Great! So first off, you and Max always seem to be wearing matching outfits to the races. Is that something you two purposely coordinate as a cute couple thing?”

You feel your cheeks flush slightly. “Oh no, not at all actually. The truth is neither of us have much fashion sense at all. So Max just gets me the female version of whatever he’s wearing to make it easy.”

The podcaster looks disappointed. “Oh, I see. So it’s not some adorable couple tradition then?”

“Well, I mean, I guess in a way it kind of is?” You say quickly, feeling guilty. “Neither of us are really into fashion, so we end up matching by default anyway. I think it’s sweet that we always end up coordinating without even trying because we’re just so in sync.”

She perks up at that. “Aww, okay, I can see that! So even though it’s not on purpose, you’ve made your own cute little tradition out of it just by being so aligned. That’s really romantic.”

You nod, smiling softly. “Yeah, I guess you could say that.”

“Well thank you so much for your time,” she shakes your hand. “And congratulations to Max on another win!”

“Thank you,” you reply as she walks away.

A few minutes later Max emerges, helmet under his arm and face lit up in that way you love. You throw your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Congratulations baby, you were amazing out there as always.”

“Thank you, schatje,” he says, squeezing you close. He pauses, smile turning teasing. “Did you enjoy chatting with that podcaster earlier?”

You pull back, eyes narrowing. “You saw that, did you?”

He chuckles. “Of course I did. I always notice you.”

“Well then you also saw me have to completely backtrack and come up with some sappy story for why we match when she thought it was a cutesy couple thing,” you say dryly.

Max shrugs. “It kind of is though, isn’t it? Maybe not on purpose, but it’s become our thing.”

“I guess you’re right,” you admit. “I told her it was romantic how in sync we are, always coordinating outfits without even trying.”

“Hmm, I like that,” he says, grinning. “We really are pretty in sync, aren’t we? Two fashionably hopeless peas in a pod.”

You laugh. “That we are.” You look at him fondly. “But I love our way better than being one of those obnoxiously coordinated couples.”

“Me too,” he agrees. “Though I will admit ...” His gaze grows more serious. “Part of the reason I like matching is because it makes me happy to walk around wearing the same thing as you. Like we’re a unit, you know?”

Your heart skips a beat at the soft vulnerability in his voice. “Max Verstappen, you big old romantic,” you tease gently.

He shrugs but you can see the pleased look in his eyes. Sudden understanding washes over you.

“Wait a minute … is that why you got me the same outfit the first time? Not just because you thought it would be easier, but because you wanted us to match?”

Max stays silent for a moment before breaking into a sheepish grin. “You caught me.”

“Oh my god!” You shove his shoulder playfully. “You big sap!”

“What can I say? I like having my girl on my arm looking like the power couple we are,” Max says, pulling you close again. “Fashionably challenged or not.”

“If only everyone out there making you out to be the villain could see the cuddly teddy bear you really are. I absolutely love it,” you murmur, stretching up to kiss him. You can feel him smile against your lips.

As you break apart, Max squeezes your hand. “Come on, let’s go celebrate. In new matching outfits, of course.”

You pretend to roll your eyes exaggeratingly but allow him to lead you towards the exit, your hands intertwined. You truly wouldn’t have it any other way.

***

You and Max are curled up on the couch in your hotel room, his arm draped around you as you lean into his side. It’s a rare quiet moment between races and you’re savoring the feeling of Max’s fingers gently carding through your hair.

“Hey Max?” You say after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“Hmm?” He hums in response, not looking away from the football match on the TV.

“I got an interesting offer today.”

That piques his interest and he turns his head to look at you. “Oh yeah? What kind of offer?”

You take a deep breath before answering. “A sponsorship deal, actually. From Oscar de la Renta.”

Max raises his eyebrows in surprise. “Wow, that’s … really great, liefje. I’m so happy for you.”

But something in his tone makes you frown slightly. “Are you though? You don’t sound that excited.”

He gives you a half smile. “No, no, I am! That’s a huge opportunity for your career and image. Having that kind of sponsorship deal is amazing.”

“But?” You prod knowingly.

Max lets out a breath, smile fading. “But I guess part of me is a little disappointed and maybe … worried?”

“About what?”

“Well,” he shifts uncomfortably. “I like being the one who picks out your outfits for the races. Our little unintentional matching tradition has kind of become my thing, you know? I’m worried if you get sponsored by some big designer brand you won’t wear the outfits I pick out anymore. That we won’t match.”

His tone is carefully casual but you can hear the undercurrent of vulnerability. Your heart clenches in your chest.

“Oh Max ...” you murmur, reaching up to cup his cheek. “You really like our matching outfits that much?”

He averts his eyes but nods. “Yeah. I know it sounds silly, but I just … I like how in sync we are. How happy it makes me feel when we show up to the races looking like a real team. Like we’re truly partners in everything. I don’t want to lose that.”

The softness in his voice breaks your heart a little. You take his hand and give it a squeeze.

“You have no idea how happy I am to hear you say that,” you tell him gently. “Because I never would have accepted that offer anyway.”

Max blinks in surprise. “You wouldn’t?”

You shake your head. “Not a chance. First of all, they were pressuring me to only wear very high-end stuff, none of which really feels like my personal style. But more importantly ...” You lean in closer, maintaining eye contact. “They don’t have a men’s collection. So they couldn’t sponsor you too.”

Realization lights up his gaze. “Oh ...” he says softly.

You nod. “Exactly. I told them thanks but no thanks. Because no designer wardrobe is worth giving up what we have.”

Max looks stunned. “You … you turned them down? Just to keep matching with me?”

“Of course I did,” you say affectionately, poking his chest. “I would never give that up. How could I say yes to some fancy sponsorship that meant not having my fashionably challenged other half by my side, both looking like total goofballs in the one outfit the world thinks makes up the entirety of our closet?”

A slow smile spreads across his face and he pulls you into his arms, hugging you tightly. “God, I love you,” he murmurs into your hair. “So much.”

You relax into his embrace, overwhelmed by the rush of affection. “I love you too,” you whisper. You pull back slightly to look at him. “Did you really think I’d give up matching with you over that?”

“I don’t know,” he admits, looking a little sheepish. “I guess a small part of me was worried maybe you’d be tempted by the glamor and exposure of being a designer brand ambassador.”

“You know me better than that,” you affirm. “Our matching looks are too special to me. I adore everything about our little tradition — the fact that it started because neither of us cares about fashion, to you always picking out my outfits, and how happy it makes both of us to show up to races coordinating with each other.”

You take Max’s hand, intertwining your fingers. “Don’t you see, my love? It’s not really about the clothes at all, it’s about us. About how perfectly aligned we are in this little part of our lives. And I wouldn’t change that for the world.”

Max’s eyes have gone suspiciously bright, his free hand reaching up to cradle your face. “But liefje … you could have had any designer clothing you wanted.” His voice is thick with emotion. “You turned that down … for me?”

Unable to find the words, you just nod, blinking back your own tears.

“I can’t believe it,” Max breathes out shakily. “You never cease to amaze me.”

You offer him a watery smile. “Well believe it, my love. Because there’s nothing in the world more precious to me than you and our bond. I wouldn’t sacrifice that for anything.”

A single tear escapes to trail down Max’s cheek and you quickly brush it away with your thumb. Seeming at a loss for words, he pulls you into a fierce hug, tucking your head under his chin as you settle into his embrace.

“I love you,” he finally whispers into your hair. “So damn much.”

“I love you too.” You pepper kisses along his neck and jaw until you reach his lips, capturing them in a deep, slow kiss that tries to convey every unspoken word of devotion and adoration.

When you finally break apart, Max gazes at you with an intensity that makes your breath catch.

“God, you really are perfect,” he murmurs, running a hand reverently through your hair. “I’m the luckiest man in the world.”

“No,” you shake your head with a soft smile. “I’m the lucky one. To have someone who loves me so fiercely, someone I love just as much in return.”

Max lets out a watery chuckle. “I think we’re both the lucky ones then.”

You settle back against his chest as he wraps his arms securely around you. For a while neither of you speaks, lost in your own thoughts as you simply bask in each other’s presence. You let your eyes drift shut as Max’s fingers resume their gentle motions through your hair.

Eventually you break the silence.

“You know we’re going to have to get even cuter matching outfits now to make up for it,” you murmur teasingly.

Max’s chest rumbles with laughter against your cheek. “Deal. Anything you want, schatje. I’ll make sure we’re the most adorable fashionably challenged couple at every single race from now on.”

You smile at the warmth and conviction in his voice. “No one could ever call us uncoordinated.”

“Never,” Max affirms, dropping a soft kiss to the top of your head. “We’re perfectly matched in every way that matters.”

You sigh contentedly as you snuggle further into his embrace. In that moment, you know he’s absolutely right. You couldn’t imagine a better match than your Max.

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