#i appreciate da thought

[forestmossling]

okay, time for some serious caleo bashing (i’ve been gearing up for it for a while).

so we have leo valdez - admittedly the loneliest and saddest character in pjo (fuck people who think it’s nico because it’s not, and i can elaborate on that in another post if anybody wants me to). his entire character arc is formed by his loneliness - he loses his mother at a very young age, so he’s left without any real, loving family or any kind of safe, stable home for the majority of his adolescence, because foster care throws him around (or he himself is forced to run away) he doesn’t get an opportunity to form any real connections. and then, finally, he gets piper and jason. except he doesn’t, really, because they mostly ignore him in favor of dealing with their rocky relationship. he seemingly gets a family - the hephaestus cabin - but he quickly becomes a social pariah there too because of his abilities and general demeanor (which is, in fact, a coping mechanism). and yes, later on we see him getting on better with his siblings, but that doesn’t happen for a good long while.

his loneliness becomes even more glaringly obvious on argo II. i don’t think i have to remind you of the whole narcissus and echo ordeal. and the way absolutely everyone is paired off, except for him. so he’s basically abandoned by everyone throughout all of hoo - by his family (godly and otherwise) and by his friends and those he tries to befriend.

so how to fix that? how to rid leo of this staggering loneliness he carries around like a suffocating cloak three sizes too big? well, i would say, let’s improve platonic relationships on argo II and let these kids be friends with each other instead of just getting tangled up in all possible variations of romantic affairs. let leo visibly (ON SCREEN (or well, on page)) get closer to his godly siblings and find a family he longed for since he lost his mother. let him find out from reliable people who love him, that his powers and what happened to his mother don’t make him a monster. let him thrive in a safe environment where he isn’t pressured to play an entertainer just to be kept around, for once.

but what did rick decide? LET’S GIVE HIM A GIRLFRIEND!! let’s throw a cute girl at leo, blatantly ignoring the fact that most of his issues stem from lacking a loving family and genuine platonic companionship, none of which will be solved by a romantic relationship. and not just throw a girl at him - let’s dump him on a cursed island which magically forces the girl in question to automatically fall in love with anybody who lands on it. let’s leave caleo no other choice but to fall in love with each other, because calypso has no other way of getting off the ogygia and leo feels guilty about leaving her there alone and also she’s his only chance of survival. sure, why the fuck not.

and i understand why caleo would be attracted to each other. when they first met and when i first saw them slowly warming up to each other, i genuinely could see them becoming a badass power couple and had pretty high hopes for them.

but then they get off the island. and well. everything goes to shit. calypso resents leo for losing her immortality, and leo somehow? feels guilty about it??? (if memory serves me right. if it doesn’t, well, i have a lot more points i’m completely confident in). every time we see them talk to each other, it’s calypso throwing jabs at leo which aren’t returned in kind. and, i hate to break it to you guys, but if it’s one person just talking shit at another without another doing the same (very likely because leo’s afraid she will dump him just like everyone else did the moment he steps a foot out of line, which, again - is a VERY BAD FUCKING SIGN), that’s not flirty banter, that’s just straight-up bullying. and let’s not forget the great hits by calypso such as “oh my gods, he doesn’t experience empathy in all the same situations and the same way i do, he’s a heartless fucking monster. hey, leo, you’re a heartless fucking monster for not empathizing with people exactly the same way i do!”, when leo was explicitly shown to struggle with empathy and social interactions in general in canon, because it’s easier to deal with machines. again, largely because he had little to none healthy socialization growing up and he does feel empathy, but just expresses it differently. and i would hope that his actual girlfriend would know that about him and, instead of judging him for it, would learn how to work around it or at least understand that people can be different and that’s not a bad thing, especially when it comes to a person you (are supposed to) love. and even if it was an actual faux pas on leo’s side, i can let it slide because he’s a teenage boy with adhd. calypso, however, is not, and i really feel like a shit ton years old immortal sorceress should know better (and yes, the huge fucking age gap in a relationship with a minor, which is another can of worms entirely, but i will skim over it for now, because there are actually ways for it to be handled better, it just wasn’t).

and, however it looks like, i genuinely don’t have any particularly strong feelings about calypso outside of the way she treats leo. she was admittedly dealt an incredibly shit hand and all the continuously-getting-her-heart-broken-because-of-the-fucking-gods deal is a lot to get over. but that doesn’t excuse how she treats leo. it’s not even a question of “does she really love him?” for me, because i find myself wondering if she even likes him in general, just as a person. and that’s another giant fucking red flag.

their whole relationship just feels like rick incredibly carelessly tied his loose ends, like “oh! there are two characters i don’t know what to do with. well, let’s just smush them together. that will surely solve everything and let me get on with the rest of the story!” (and maybe not even carelessly but, dare i say, uncaringly)

but, okay, let’s say they’re both severely traumatized and just get off to a rocky start. alright. well, how will rick work on improving their relationship and finally resolving the issue of leo’s deep-seated loneliness? oh. he won’t. he will make them leave camp half-blood indefinitely. the place where leo found his first real family, where all of his friends are. where he was, for the first time in the series, shown some actual recognition, respect and care by the other campers (which they did by… hitting him. but considering all the demigods are weird with affection, i will let that one slide), just as he finally got close with his siblings. rick will make them stay at waystation and get a “normal teenage experience” by… going to high school. and i don’t think i’m wrong in assuming leo’s average high school experience prior to this was getting bullied and isolated. which will probably not change just because he goes to a new school in a city he doesn’t know with his girlfriend who hates him.

i’m sorry, but - WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK???

and i understand that letting himself believe that leo dating calypso and changing scenery would magically solve all of his problems was a lot easier for rick than laying huge groundwork for leo finally finding his place in chb and building a bunch of close interpersonal relationships with other campers that would let him feel at home somewhere at last and also breaking his problematic tendency of just pairing teenagers off with each other instead of letting them bond platonically. and i’m also not saying there aren’t A LOT of great platonic relationships written by rick (percy’s family and his friendship with grover, basically all of nico’s immediate circle, all of will’s immediate circle, i really was mostly talking about the argo II debacle there). but this feels a little bit too much like carelessly tying loose ends again for my comfort.

and it’s not like rick just doesn’t realize leo’s motivations and biggest struggles. he doesn’t just make leo a flat comic relief character: he encourages us to empathize with his loneliness and pain all throughout the journey on argo II, he forces us to notice how hard he takes being the seventh, always forgotten wheel. he just… doesn’t really do anything about it.

i am a firm believer in the fact that leo just didn’t need a romantic relationship at all throughout the series. it wouldn’t solve any of his issues (and romantic relationships shouldn’t be founded on the goal of solving anybody’s issues, that’s just a disaster waiting to happen), it would most likely distract him from building a wide and stable support system he actually needs and throw him headfirst into something he, in his current state, would not be equipped to properly deal with. but even if he did enter a romantic relationship at some point, it definitely shouldn’t have been the main point and the grand finale of his story, and it definitely shouldn’t have been with calypso. i can see him with frank (i genuinely remember reading their interactions in books and thinking that they would make a very interesting and fun couple with their dynamic, and the conflict of a guy whose literal survival depends on staying as far away from the fire/a guy who spontaneously ignites all the time would be really tasty and fun to explore, you could throw a good ol’ icarus and sun metaphor in there, but maybe that’s just me), hell, make it leo/frank/hazel (even though dating a guy you only seem to be attracted to because he’s a many-times-grandson of a boy you loved in the past doesn’t seem like a very good basis for a relationship, but at least she wouldn’t treat him the way calypso did). hell, i started really warming up to the idea of valgrace, because, even though their relationship wouldn’t have the time and space it needed to properly develop in canon (rip jason, i love you), they would have a really fucking cool and sweet dynamic. who if not jason grace can understand feeling lonely in a room full of people? who if not jason grace can appreciate leo for all the great things that he is while making him feel genuinely loved, instead of belittled? who if not leo can get jason to loosen up, make him realize he doesn’t have to carry the world of the whole world on his shoulders alone, become the ride-or-die jason never really got to have? but well, that’s me veering a little bit too much towards speculations, and i tried to work mostly with what canon had given us.

anyway. (i promise i’m almost done.) all of this doesn’t mean that i hate rick riordan - i admire his work on pjo, i really want to read the other series in riordanverse, and the sole fact that i had so much material to go through speaks for the immense work he does on giving depth to his characters. and i know he can write good romance: percabeth is one of the very few straight pairings i can not only stomach, but actually love immensely, solangelo is genuinely one of the best things to ever happen to this god-forsaken planet, in my humble opinion, and apollo’s entire history of past relationships has me obsessed (especially the commodus part. i cannot stress enough just how much feelings i have about their story). this is caleo bashing, not rick riordan bashing. but i just feel like he didn’t care enough to give the same carefully thought-out beautiful relationship to leo, and that, regretfully just happens sometimes, especially if there are as many important characters as in pjo, and we can’t really do anything about it. but as an unhinged leo valdez enjoyer and appreciator i’m very sad to see his story go that way, because he really deserves better.

and that’s about it!

[dustteller]

Esen is clingy, and Ouyang WILL complain about it (very loudly!), but he's half-laughing and not pulling away, so Esen will count it as a win.

[rosykims]

if maric theirin has a million haters then i am one of them. if maric theirin has ten haters then I am one of them. if maric theirin has only one hater then that is me. if maric theirin has no haters then that means I am no longer on earth

[outeremissary]

For the headcanon meme: ♦ - quirks/hobbies headcanon for Balthazar please 👀

From here...

I’d say for these purposes studying esoteric religious and arcane lore doesn’t really count as a hobby, although it’s certainly something he’s spent a lot of free time on. Balthazar knows a lot less conventional magical theory than you’d expect for someone who went through a formal apprenticeship (he wasn’t especially good in it and he had a terrible teacher), but he knows a lot of Odd Shit of dubious veracity about a lot of really niche topics and also just a pretty solid sense of the nuance of various faiths.

But more on topic... I’d say that he’s very interested in fashion. Not really in a “creating it” way- he’s never enjoyed picking up finicky skills- but he likes seeing the breadth of styles that exist and appreciating all the history and technique and social statement that goes into clothing and the way the body is presented to the world. Absalom was a great place to be really into clothes and Balthazar loved anticipating new trends and working to be on the forefront of what was happening. And while he didn’t really have the means to be immersed in high society on his own, he had a talent for finding well-situated friends to indulge his tastes. The Stolen Lands are a cultural chasm by comparison. He can’t help but agree with Stefano on that. There’s never anything new going on, and they aren’t well enough connected to see novelty from anywhere else... it’s horrible to feel so out of the loop and small, and frankly a bit stressful with World’s Meanest Teen Lander Lebeda happily making comparisons of his own between the meager barony and the grand traditions of Brevic nobility.

Balthazar does have a very sincere interest in Sharel the tailor’s work. He thinks that Sharel possesses a talent worth fostering and does a lot worth following with silhouette and shape. He’s a desperately needed breath of fresh air and his visits are quite eagerly anticipated- something Balthazar would even confess if asked about it.

As for quirks... it feels like there are too many of those to list. It’s an odd thing to be placed alongside hobbies to me, so I feel like I’m missing something as well ^^;; To pick something at random, he hates sitting anywhere he can’t see the doors to a room. If he gets seated somewhere he doesn’t have a good view of them he’ll always move his chair or slowly drift to a better position. It just makes him antsy not being able to tell who’s in a room. Really, he wants to be able to glance around and see everyone from wherever he is... On a related note, even though his study has pretty large, nice windows, his desk faces away from them because they’re opposite the door. The poor architect who worked so hard to highlight the view could never have accounted for some jumpy bastard being more interested in the entrance to the room...

[taonpest]

Me in hell fighting the motherfucker who invented art rules

[orchidsareforever]

hello im just wondering if we will have sweet scent of roses update this week?

ps. i love your story and the plot 🥰

Thank you sweet Anon! 🥰

The newest chapter is now online!

[old-archivist]

Sorry, not here to drop more half baked recipes. Instead I’m going to drop random dragon age trivia - and general animal trivia - I found while working in the cookbook.

Some preface though, humans love categorizing things. So much so that we usually have a name to denote sex, age, and reproductive maturity in most of our livestock. I knew this before, but in the old cookbooks I’m looking at it was much more common for people to know this sort of thing and use it in regular conversation. In comparison to today, its not common knowledge unless you work with animals.

The rest is going under a cut cause this became a whole thing...

A castrated rooster is called a capon.

Pullet is a young hen less than 1 year old.

Poults are young fowl, especially turkeys.

Green goose is when you kill a gosling that is under 4 months old and eat it without stuffing.

Young wild ducks that can’t fly are called flappers.

Raccoon meat is oily and comparable to the dark meat of poultry though the meat is tough so you need to cook it for longer and/or use methods to tenderize it.

There are eels in Thedas, which seem particularly popular as a food in Ferelden. You will find them in game through out Redcliffe and other food spreads.

Baby eels are called elver.

Dragon age’s pheonix are technically edible in the same way a puffer fish is. I love this for them.

Fennec is most likely edible. Though prized for their fur, they would be a decent enough meal. However given their similarity to foxes, their meat is likely as tough and has musk glands so would need special prep much like a raccoon’s.

In Dragon age, ram their own species. Personally, I think they’re separate from sheep (think boar vs pig or rabbit vs hare) as WOT v2 calls them a species and not a breed. Which they do call the August Ram a “breed” which makes me think it’s a breed of ram not sheep. There is also the fact that sheep are sexually dimorphic but these rams are not. That said, ram is also used as a term for male sheep in Thedas.

Speaking of, rabbits and hares are two different animals. People just mix them up for…reasons? I was never quite sure why.

Leverets are hares less than 1 year old.

Wild boars and pigs are also not the same animal. While a male pig is called a boar, they still differ from their wild counterpart. Even though both species share the same terminology; ie. boar, sow, hog, swine, runt, barrow, stag, gilt, even their group name - a small group of pigs and wild boars are called a sounder. The only exception is for their babies, which baby boars are boarlets. Though it is still valid to call them piglets, but come on, boarlets is cuter.

On the topic of animal misconceptions, ox and cows are the same animal. The technical term is cattle as “cow” means a female cattle who has had at least one calf and are used primarily for dairy and beef. Ox are typically male, they can be castrated and are used solely for work due to their larger muscles. They’re like the draft horse of cattle. They’re also typically smarter than other cattle as they’re trained to take direction.

Cattle, sheep, bison, buffalo, antelope, gazelle, and goat are all in the same family, Bovidae. Which, with that knowledge I suggest that draffalo, ram, august ram, and halla are also in that family.

If you’re in the bovidae family, your horns don’t regrow. Knock them off, damage them, ect. They aren’t coming back. Which is why the Dalish can carve halla horns and they’ll stay that way.

I am pleasantly surprised that there is no mention of opossums in Thedas. I hope it stays that way.

[astrxealis]

fantasy ouffhghhhhh i love tou

[amisunderstoodgoddess]

Hunt - final

(part one here)

Summary: He kidnapped you. He believes you are his mate. Can you find some kind of peace with the monster who took you away from everything you know?

Rated: M (EXPLICIT +18)

Author's note: If you haven't read the first part, I STRONGLY advise you to do it so you can better understand the story. Anyway, thank you for everyone's patience for this second part. It was a busy few months, but I finally managed to finish it.

I apologize especially for not responding to the comments, I really haven't had the time lately. But I appreciate each and every one of them, thank you so much for that babes!!

ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

A gentle, icy breeze passes by you and you feel yourself shiver. A smell reminiscent of antiseptics and sterilized products fills your nostrils and, as you begin to become more aware of your surroundings, you feel the smooth, cold and hard surface beneath you. You try to open your eyes, but your eyelids are so heavy; your entire body feels heavy, weighing over a ton as you try and fail to move.

You can hear a soft, clean hum in the background, like new, well-oiled machines at work, but when you finally open your eyes, you see nothing but a blur of white just above your body, an uncomfortable glow of almost blinding light. You grunt and blink a few times, trying to move again and managing to dig your fingers into the smooth surface beneath you.

It's then that the memories come rushing back.

Your heart pounds with the memories and you try to stand up with a surge of vigor that wasn't there before, but your body simply won't obey.

How long have you been blacked out? Are you still on Earth? Or had that alien really taken you to space? Why can't you move?

When a deep rumble fills the air, your hair stands on end all over your body. Slowly, the blinding blur of white light is eclipsed by the outline of a giant looming above you with a cold, impassive metal mask. Your heart jumps in your chest and you immediately want to cry. Whether from the effect of sedation or the sheer wave of terror that wracks your body, all you can do is whimper a “please” before your mind wanders into darkness again.

------

The next time you wake up, you are no longer lying on the cold stretcher. Instead, there's a subtle smell of wet earth filling your nostrils, as well as the pleasant feeling of soft fur wrapping your body. You're warm, cozy really, even if you still feel heavy and very disoriented.

You try to move and, with some effort, you manage to remove your arm from the furs that wrap around it. You struggle to open your eyes, blinking away the confusing fog in your mind, and see an infinite amount of furs around you. You squint your eyes and slowly sit up. Your head is spinning, your neck is tight and sore, and you reach for where the alien had injected whatever infernal compound to knock you out like that. Your skin hurts like an old bruise, but there's nothing more to it than that. You can barely find the tiny needle prick.

It's dark wherever you are, except for soft yellow lighting coming from a corner of the room, and you inspect the furs you're wrapped in. The hairs are of medium length but dense, effectively warming without being irritating to the skin; the furs were clearly expertly carved. You had been kidnapped and imprisoned by a skilled hunter and it was obvious. With a little deeper perception you blush and shiver when you feel the soft furs are in direct contact with your skin. Your skin very bare.

The air hisses with every breath you take now, but the new burn of tears helps clear your vision. Looking around as the room comes into focus, turning to look at whatever it was you were lying on. And if you thought you would be able to see something even slightly recognizable, you were sadly mistaken.

Nothing is familiar.

You are lying in what appears to be a giant nest. It's a kind of huge platform, a few inches above the ground, lined with fluffy, cozy fur.

The environment is a little dark, preventing you from really being able to discern the details, but the walls seem to be made of some kind of dark metal and, in one of them, where there is a focus of yellowish light, you can make out the shape of a pressurized door - the bathroom maybe?

Sitting up a little better, you twist the soft fur between your fingers, a way of trying to distract yourself. Your eyes darting around the corners of the room, mapping everything you could see. That's when you see the two glowing eyes peering at you from across the room, in the shadows. Two orange flames fixed on you for God knows how long. You take a deep breath as you throw yourself back, heart racing in your chest.

Crawling through the nest of furs, you try to scream, but no sound can escape your lips. You try to stand and still keep the covering around your body, but you can only kneel on the bed, fumbling with the furs, your heart in your ears, and you're about to get out of the strange nest any way you can when someone grabs your arm and stops you. The giant alien stands before you now, silhouetted dark against the yellowish light behind him — but his eyes appear luminous as they look at you.

He's standing on the floor and you're kneeling on the tall bed made for creatures larger than you, and yet he towers like a mountain over your small body. You can barely breathe; the creature's huge, deadly clawed hand wraps around your arm like it's just a fragile twig, and for a second you think this is it – this is the moment you would lose your life. But the alien, now without his mask, just looks at you and lets out a low, guttural growl from between his scary jaws. After a few moments that feel like an eternity, he effortlessly pulls you closer to him.

“I-I,” you sigh as you try to stay in the same position. You try to fight him, but he doesn't even seem to notice your efforts. "Please please!" You don't know what exactly you are begging for. But you're not stupid, the unfamiliarity around you could only mean that he had actually kidnapped you. You're on his ship. And if you're on an alien's ship, outside of Earth, completely defenseless and alone, it's because there's no way out.

The creature throws you onto the furs and gives you an icy glowering look before crouching on the ground next to your body, all the while looking at you.

You struggle to breathe. He pulled and pushed you as if you weighed absolutely nothing, showing incontrovertible evidence that he would have no problem dominating you.

He watches you intensely as he has since the first time, tilting his head slightly with obvious curiosity, his dreadlocks falling as they follow the movement. The way he sits is so human, so familiar; his arms rest on his knees, his muscular shoulders are comfortably angled and his legs are bent and wide apart. Although he appears almost relaxed, his gaze is penetrating and dangerous.

You make yourself small - which already seems obvious with the way he towers over you even though he's crouched on the ground - alarmed at what might be stirring in the large creature's mind. You had been chosen by him — at least that's what he told you. A mate. Would he force you? Had he been waiting for this moment since the first time he saw you in the lab? And why did that thought make you feel strangely flushed?

He, on the other hand, doesn't seem prepared for an attack. He just sits there, watching you like you're the most interesting thing he's ever seen.

You wrap your arms around your knees while keeping the furs around your shoulders to hide your body. Running would be fruitless, you know that, and you'd rather not trigger anything primal in the Predator, like acting like prey. It would be the worst move, actually. Instead, you bury your face in your arms and wait.

The alien is silent as night, and for a moment you hear nothing but your own ragged breathing and the soft hum of the ship. When you look shyly from beneath your lashes at him again, he’s still watching you. There's a disturbing intensity in his eyes that makes you beyond nervous, but there's no malice there. Not that you can tell. It's just some kind of undeniable dominance, like he knows you're so far beneath him, that he could do literally anything to you without worrying about your resistance to it. And yet he is there, still waiting.

The…creature, doesn’t blink as he slightly parts his jaws and his head tilts towards you, curiously. "Are you afraid?"

Once again you are startled to hear his translated voice resonating right inside your ear, in the walls of your skull. A low sound. A coarse sound. A curious growl that grazed your bones as if the sky itself was growling at you.

“H-uh.” You're not sure if 'afraid' is a strong enough definition for what you're feeling. Looking at the dark, burly figure that seemingly can't get enough of watching you from the dark recesses of his room fills you with a kind of nervous, suffocating anxiety that makes it difficult for you to breathe. You almost wonder if you're about to pass out. “I…I wouldn’t say afraid.” You lie through your teeth and then, for lack of anything else to say and because you're desperate to understand exactly what the hell you're doing here, you say, "Do you have a name?"

The predator tilts his body a little more towards you. You lean back nervously, because this isn't what you wanted to happen, but he moves slowly and cautiously and pauses just the tiniest distance from you. “Doh’kein.”

He waits, as if waiting for you to say something, announce yourself, say anything.

"Do...D-Dou...kai?" You repeat with difficulty, trying hard to at least try to please this creature and stay on his good side.

He snorts between his jaws and something in the way his broad shoulders vibrate and his flaming eyes shine tells you the sound is something like laughter, fun and guttural; and you imagined the joy of a mountain.

"Doh'kein." He repeats, slower this time, looking expectantly at you.

"Huh - Doh'kein?" You try one more time.

The alien in front of you purrs in approval when you repeat his name almost perfectly, leaning down and burying his face in the crook of your neck. You startle and scream, trying to pull away, but a large hand wraps around your arm and holds you still. His deadly jaws slide along your skin and you arch your neck just to avoid being hooked by one of those things, but unfortunately he takes your gesture as an invitation to continue.

"Y-You've never spoken before. In the lab."

You stutter, trying to start a talk to keep him distracted from what seemed like the end goal of all this.

“That wouldn’t be logical,” he mutters. Against all logic, you exhale shakily as you feel one of his sharp fangs slide gently past your ear, pressing what could be a kiss to the shell. "It's not like all of their primitive ears could understand me if I tried."

The baritone of his voice murmured so close to your ear sends shivers down your spine and you find yourself clenching your thighs. Doh'kein braces himself with both arms in the nest, on either side of your hips, eclipsing your small body with his until he is all there is - until he is all you see.

You argue futilely in an attempt to maintain self-control - his and yours: “W-we could have talked sooner.”

“We could. But then other oomans would know this part of me,” he answers clearly. "Do you wish this had happened?"

You are extremely embarrassed by the immediate ‘no’ that almost rolls off the tip of your tongue. Despite all your fears, you find yourself almost jealous when you imagine this alien being like this with other people. You bite your lip and let your silence answer for you. There is no doubt that this is a disservice to your team and the research being carried out – you seek truths and yet the truth is that you are secretly happy that this is yours and yours alone.

Even if you have difficulty accepting it.

Doh'kein snorts. He brings his broad forehead to your smaller one and your knees reflexively part to make room for him as he settles between them, still kneeling on the floor. The shine in his eyes dimmed. Reminds you of a pyre after the fire has burned for hours at a time; the glowing ash left to cool overnight.

“If I hadn't participated and let them do the tests on me, you wouldn't have paid attention,” he continues. You shiver when he places a hand on your thigh, the grip is careful but it makes you shiver nonetheless. The size of his body forces your legs wider around his waist, to the point where your joints hurt. But he doesn't move, he just waits while the gears in your head turn.

“You...” you gasp as it hits you. “You could have left whenever you wanted.”

He slowly studies you at your words and tilts his head, motioning for you to continue. There is an unshakable composure about him that makes you uneasy. You get the feeling he knows your thoughts before you express them.

“You stayed and cooperated with the research. Even when…even when some of those people treated you like an animal. You could be anywhere but there. You could have stopped that at any time. But you waited."

Doh'kein once again snaps his jaws and snorts his equivalent of a laugh. The sound soon turned into a buzzing noise. He places a large hand on top of your head and leans back into your space, uncomfortably close, as if he wants to impress the answer inside you. “That was exactly where I was supposed to be at that moment. You are my mate."

That word, again.

Silence stretches after that and your skin crawls under the intense scrutiny, a fixed, unforgiving gaze on you. Your mouth is dry, your heart is racing with proximity, your hands, slightly sweaty with tension, are curled into tight fists in the fur around your body. It's not the place or time for it, but slowly you feel the fear turn to...intrigue, despite yourself.

Your captor doesn't seem like the talkative type, but every word that leaves his alien mouth seems to be charged with the purest electricity. That, combined with the intensity of his gaze, was making you tense and coerced — like a little rabbit caught in some trap. And yet, some kind of curiosity was forming in the back of your mind.

You had never experienced anything like it. No one had ever looked at you like that. Bright orange orbs on a completely inhuman face exuding a sense of devotion and hunger that you were unaware of until this moment. It's disturbing and frightening at its majority essence - it's also curiously flattering on the other hand.

A silent chirp pulls you from your thoughts. He must sense your latent anxiety, because the alien pushes you gently (much more gently than you'd imagine for someone his size) against the nest of soft fur and you sink down with a shuddering sigh and a racing heart. His scent envelops you; rain, earth and tall grass.

“Doh’kein,” you falter. “W-why do you keep calling me that? How can you be sure I'm the one you want as a mate? I'm just a human."

You only mention the issue of the difference between species, your overloaded brain can barely think about the challenges of the physical logistics of the act.

“I see that,” he states dryly, as if the fact that you put yourself down irritates him. “But you are mine, little ooman. My mate. And that's not open for debate."

As he covers your body like a mountain of solid muscle, you press the soft fur over you to hide as much of your modesty as possible. Doh'kein doesn't seem to like this very much. Without the slightest warning, the tip of his thumb slides across your knuckles - still stubbornly attached to the covering of fur - and your mouth goes slack at the difference in textures of his scaly skin on your soft flesh. He places one knee on the nest of furs and leans above you, lowering his head so his dreads fall around both of you and obscure his hungry expression. You feel the ghost of his long, sharp claws prickling your skin as his dexterous fingers explore the details of your comically small hand, swirling tantalizing patterns in your own hidden blood beneath before intertwining your fingers with his and freeing your nails sunk into the blanket of furs.

His touch is deliberately gentle as he guides your hands splayed above your head, but his gaze tells another story; firm, fixed and heavy in his message - a warning. It awakens the most basic survival instinct rooted in your genetic code, it raises the hair on your body, it accelerates your heart, it leaves your lips dry with fear.

And it makes the heat spread between your legs.

There is no logical explanation for this reaction of your body. But in the end, it doesn't matter. For whatever had been, or whatever might have been, was completely ripped from your mind at the very moment you heard the thunderous sound resonate in his broad chest.

That purr again.

A rhythmic trembling that seems to rise from the depths of him and take root directly in your very being. So mesmerizing and effective that it makes you forget the dangers of those deadly jaws when he brings his face closer to yours, sliding his long fangs across the softness of your cheeks. You part your lips in an attempt to breathe better, you ball your hands into tight fists on the furs - obediently keeping them where he left them.

As if that wasn't disturbing enough, something different catches you seconds later. Not a hand, not anything tangible, but something entirely invisible.

The invisible thread of a scent.

The scent curls around you before you even knew it was there, without any chance to stop it, to escape its grasp. And suddenly you're tangled; tangled up because of him, this strange alien, even though he does nothing but keep his giant hands splayed in the fur around your body to support his own weight - which, of course, would be more than capable of easily crushing you if he didn't do it, looking at you with a focused and intense gaze. At the same time, you are captive to his warm musk, in a way that only someone like you, so disastrously unlucky, could have been. And before you know it, you're looking at him, not in surprise or disbelief, but in a spellbound trance. Trapped by a breath of rain-damp wood, of a sweetness like slippery stone and the flames of a bonfire on a cloudy day. It's welcoming, it's inviting.

It's impossible to contain the way your eyelids immediately become lethargic and your senses clouded at the first sign of his musk permeating the air. The creature's scent is as overpowering as the first time; it invades your nostrils, thick and heavy, unable to ignore it.

Suddenly you can't speak.

The smell makes you feel a rush of intense, unreal attraction. By an alien. Your hands twitch above your head, and you bite your trembling lower lip. As you do, you watch with hooded gaze the way Doh'kein's sun-colored eyes trace your actions.

“You feel it too, don't you?” he asks in a throaty sound, doing his best to break through the confusing haze of your thoughts.

You can't answer. You don't know the answer. You think you might be whining.

The predator also hears your embarrassing whine, of course. His head tilts slightly and the small thorns on his heavy eyebrows fall darkly over his eyes. You watch as his slick, plum-colored tongue comes out of his strange mouth, stretching beyond what any tongue should be able to, until it leaves a warm, wide trail of saliva on your cheek. And although you shouldn't really enjoy it, you found that you couldn't help but sigh in pleasure at the animalistic act and squirm beneath him.

What's happening to me? You think through the immensity of confusing static in your mind.

You're not squirming to get away.

The subtle but restless movement of your hips has nothing to do with it, really.

You don't run away when he reaches out with a giant hand to cup your chin, guiding your eyes closer to his in a trance that seems endless. To force your gaze on his primal possession. Though his spectral touch penetrated you; leaving a shiver behind him that tickled your chin and cheek in an effervescent shudder.

He doesn't need to force you into anything. His presence is magnetic to you, and yet you can't tear yourself away from his enormous intensity. You can't help hold his gaze. And you see his brow furrowed above you, sink into those serious eyes that map your every expression closely, ignore the danger of his deadly fangs so close to your face.

You stay silent as you watch him. Hostage of unsaid things. Of things without explanation. You just accept it when your skin tingles with a million little feathers of anticipation, with an urgency to be touched that becomes more and more overwhelming the longer he stays near you.

In a pull that was nothing short of urgent, he pushes away the fur that was on your body. You cry out, a little startled by the sudden action, shivering when his jaws buries itself in your hair to breathe, hot and heavy against the back of your neck. Then, resting a large, clawed hand on your shoulder blades, he begins to descend your body, each growling breath coming faster as he descends.

Doh'kein growls and the sound comes from somewhere deep in his body, untamed and wild and eager. Inhaling you deeply, as if he was smelling fine wine. That burgundy tongue appears again, sliding down your neck. You feel his hand on your waist trail down the soft expanse of your belly. You shudder at his demanding touch, your body responding naturally to his touch. Electricity sizzles through your veins. He pulls you towards him, sharp claws running down your back and around your side to caress the lower curve of your breast. The subtle scratch of his claws only adding intensity to the sensations.

Your chest tightens and your face feels hot. Maybe it's the fear, the confusion that goes through your mind or it's all the fault of that addictive scent emanating from him, but your body pulses. Every bit of you feels so alive that it practically vibrates with energy. What if this was all a hallucination? What if you were at home, lying in your comfortable bed, lost in an intense dream rich in details? Maybe-

Wild claws graze the skin on the sides of your breasts, leaving goosebumps and tearing a cry from your lips.

You had never felt like this, like your belly was warm and lit, full of fireflies.

What is this, anyway?

You look up with misty eyes, finding intense swirling golden pools. As mesmerizing as before. Warm breath blowing across your flushed cheeks. Spice and heat filling your nose.

It's like looking at the sun; the blinding rays of light so powerful, burning their pattern into your eyes.

You snap back to reality and immediately notice your two hands gripping his broad obsidian shoulders, the muscles beneath the scaly surface so powerful you can practically feel the raw strength of them beneath your fingers. You had advanced towards him until your nipples were brushing dangerously against his very, very muscular chest. Your core vibrating with a pulse you wanted so badly to ignore. You blush and pull your hand back, but you can't pull it away completely as his arms cage your body.

He pulls you by your hair and pushes you deeper into the warm furs of the nest, pressing his body against you like he knows you're silently yearning. He’s solid, huge. Terrifying. You tremble in his grip and let out a cry of surprise when he thrusts his hips against you. The hard, thing writhes with every pulse, precariously restrained by that Tarzan loincloth around his wide hips, pressing into your belly like it's trying to find a home in the soft hollow below your ribs. Even without actually feeling it skin to skin, the pure sensation of the heavy member against your belly leaves no place for doubt about its size. Not that it's a surprise, considering the alien's corporeal mass - but the very solid, very long weight of his penis against you like this is still capable of eliciting a loud gasp from your throat.

Your reaction seems to amuse the giant, who grunts and snaps something between his jaws in your mouth that you're sure sounds a lot like laughter, grinding against you until the air is forced from your lungs and the only thing you can think deliriously is that it will kill you; that he's about to rip your insides out and maybe even scalp you, considering the firm grip he still has on your hair, the way his claws rake your scalp.

Two things become clear to you then:

1) you are not as scared as you should be about such possibilities.

2) the time for patience and gentle touches has obviously come to an end.

His eyes slowly - very slowly - leave your face and slide in an intimate caress up your bare torso, lingering on your pert breasts, and he widens his jaws in an elongated trill. You don't need a translation to know he's satisfied. He's hungry, orange orbs overflowing with an obvious need that he makes no bones about keeping hidden.

But, unlike the course of action you expected, Doh'kein steps away and steps out of the nest, standing back on his feet. Surprised, you sit up and just look at him, cheeks flushed and hair disheveled from the previous rough treatment.

The giant alien in front of you waits a few seconds until he is absolutely sure he has your full attention. And then, in an unexpected gesture, he rolls his powerful shoulders a few times, lifting his body and adjusting his posture until he's at his fullest (which makes him even more intimidating, if that's possible), emitting a sound that you I hadn't heard it until now. It looked like a puff from a big bear, but longer and stronger, more proud. It's almost like a growl, but not as aggressive as the ones you've heard from him before. The whole thing confuses you, but only for a moment. You part your lips in surprise when you quickly understand his intention.

It's some kind of mating dance. An assertion of dominance and a call to mate. Just like an alpha male would do.

The sound continues rolling between his jaws and echoing between the walls of the room in his ship, crackling like the other sounds coming from him, but more thunderous. He rolls his shoulders once again, clenching his fists and showing how strong he is. You really didn't need a reminder of the fact. But you can't deny that the soft yellow ambient light dancing across his broad torso, showing off his rippling muscles as he purposely moves in such a way as to highlight them, is absolutely breathtaking - in a way that frightens you a little; he is clearly showing you that he will be a good mate.

His eyes as hot as flames are fixed on you with a gaze that burns mercilessly through you. His jaws flare once more, he bares his inner fangs in a growl, and the bangs and clicks grow louder. The sound vibrates through you, and his scent fills the chamber even more. Despite the undeniable fear, your heart races in response, your belly churns, and the slick between your legs betrays you once again as your pussy pulses to be filled.

It's then that you notice the bulge that was poking you a few minutes ago. You can't look away, and in the middle of his seductive vocalization, he lets out another laugh. His sharp claws undo the knots and clasps that keep the loincloth secured around his hips, and you swallow hard, bringing your knees closer to your chest. He lets the fabric fall to the floor, and your mouth falls open as the alien's cock immediately rises against his belly.

It was a monster in its own right, just as you imagined - and yet...no, it's nothing like you imagined. Long and sturdy. Ridges resembling little barbs line the entire length of the underside of the biggest penis you've ever laid eyes on in your fucking life. The color doesn't differ much from the rest of him - the same shade of gray that spreads across his torso and belly also extends along his massive length, up to a bulbous head that gradually changes to an almost purplish color, an imposing scrotum hanging below. Prominent veins cover the shaft and make his penis look even scarier. The entire length, but especially the head, glistening with what appears to be some kind of natural lubrication, alarmingly highlighting those sharp-looking bulges on the underside of his penis. The mere idea of him taking you with that thing makes you visibly shake with anxiety.

“Y/n.” Your name in his growling voice makes you snap out of the daze you were in and you look into his eyes, scared and pathetically excited, blushing at the nothing short of smug expression on his inhuman face. There is no denying that his tactics are having an effect on you. You know he knows you would submit to him like pitiful prey.

Regardless of your newly awakened desires, the powerful claim in his courtship ritual and his intimidating girth, to say the least, frighten you and, instinctively, you try to step back as he places one knee on the furs again. Doh'kein, however, is faster and all you can do is whimper helplessly as he grabs your ankle and stops your escape. The ends of his dreadlocks slide down the softness of your bare torso as he mounts you once more, caging your small body beneath him.

A deep, low rumble escapes him and you catch a glimpse of that long tongue once again as he tilts his head suggestively.

He's smelling your excitement. You know he is.

His huge hands wrap around your thighs with comical ease as he spreads your legs wide apart, exposing you to him without an ounce of reserve. You hide your face in your hands and sob an embarrassed cry as Doh'kein tastes your scent in the air, feels your heat and wetness on his reptilian tongue without even needing to touch you. You bite your lip and swallow a moan, feeling embarrassment burn through every pore, as well as arousal.

“Y/n,” he repeats, and you try and fail to hide the tremor in your body at the sound of his voice vibrating the walls of your mind. You will never get used to it. Doh'kein spreads your legs further apart, exposing you even more to him, and then he presses that word, as if he wants to imprint it into your flesh through pure repetition. "Mate".

A hand holding your thigh releases it and slides down. Your breath catches as he runs over your inner thigh, dragging his claws across your soft skin with the intimacy and experience a years-old lover would have, before reaching your core to cup your intimacy. You gasp and jump out of bed and his hand tightens, grabs you. Pussy, pubic bone, all together, all right there, in Doh'kein's abnormally large palm.

He looks between your legs. Really look.

Orange pools absorbing like osmosis the image of your little pussy caged between his ridiculously thick and long fingers. He doesn't move. He doesn't speak. He just stands there, holding your most intimate part as if it were a fragile toy. It's not the first time you've been intimate with someone, although it is, in fact, the first time with someone...less than human. But even so, you've never been looked at with so much desire and possession. The attention makes you move timidly to try and cover yourself, but Doh'kein clearly doesn't like it as he abruptly lifts his face to you and growls an unspoken threat - once again grabbing your wrists with his free hand and pinning them above your head. You whimper and squirm against his hold, but you're no match for the creature's brute strength.

Doh'kein presses a considerable amount of force against the nest, a firm and unquestionable warning, before slowly releasing them. When you don't move in retaliation, he purrs in satisfaction and focuses once again on your intimacy. He looks at the place with hungry curiosity before gently twitching his fingers, giving you an experimental squeeze that encompassed absolutely every outer area of your pussy and more.

You whimper and Doh'kein's gaze is drawn to yours. He watches your face intently for a reaction as he slowly drags his thumb over the sensitive, needy bud that is currently your clit, and your breath hitches when you bite your lip - you don't know if it was a conscious movement or just a exploratory attempt, but the action electrifies your body with a pure jolt of pleasure. His dreads jiggle and his jaws twitch as he purrs with delight, and unexpectedly, he leans toward your neglected breast, letting that plum-colored tongue lather your nipple with his heated saliva, wrapping the forked muscle around it.

His rough tongue wraps around your sensitive bud once, twice, three times, making you shudder and gasp as his rumbling purrs vibrate through his chest in response. You squirm in his nest, your head thrashing as he bounces between each breast, sliding that tongue over every inch of your sensitive skin, the scratch of his sharp jaws scraping your soft flesh only fueling the fire that roars loudly inside you. His thumb slides once again across your clit (gliding easily with all the wetness you're shamefully producing) in a slow, deliberate circle that makes you sure the action is purposeful.

Slowly, Doh'kein retracts his tongue back into his sharp-toothed mouth, hearing you moan louder with each slow turn of his thumb, shaky mewls escaping your lips and you blush as you notice how arrogant he sounds with irrefutable certainty that you're enjoying this.

The alien seems strangely familiar with human anatomy and carefully caresses the edge of your canal before rupturing it with an intimidating finger. You cry and immediately tighten your pussy around his finger, fighting against the girth that, alone, is bigger than anything you've taken inside you recently. But Doh'kein is not discouraged. He pushes his finger inside you, sinking it deep with the confidence of a man with a purpose. His claw scraped almost uncomfortably against your inner walls, sending small, sharp flashes of pain through you with each movement, but even that was tiny when compared to the magnitude of pleasure you felt.

The place fills with the sound of your breathless pants, your fragile mewls and the sound of your pussy being fucked by that finger.

The predator grunts deeply as he explores you, thrusting his finger in and out of you in slow but deep movements, and when he feels satisfied with one, he begins to insert another.

“N-no!” You gasp and instinctively grab his wrist to try stop him. Your eyes are teary and you look at him while shaking your head. “Please, I c-can't, I can't take another-”

His face turns, slowly. The frown is almost cruel as he looks at your small fingers gripping his wrist, then looks straight into your eyes. You let go of his arm as if you had burned your hand.

"Yes you can." That's all he says, looking into your eyes. That's all he thinks you need to hear, apparently. His thumb poking your clit one more time to make you jump from the sensation. You sob, lost between the intense waves of pleasure and panic, and the giant clicks his jaw before returning with his exploration.

You cry out at the burning sensation of pain as he pushes in his other finger, stretching you further than you've ever been stretched before. The sharp pain quickly mixes (mercifully) with your excessive excitement as the creature quickens his pace.

"That's better. Good girl, just relax,” he praises you. His thumb keeps rotating and tapping against your clit, effectively distracting you from the pain, his fingers reaching deep, and his claws lightly scratching your insides. The mortifying sounds of your abundant wetness echo louder and louder between the walls of the room, along with your sobs, screams and moans. "That's it, little ooman. Come on, cum for me." Doh'kein mumbles into your eardrums through the translator, leaning up until his dreadlocks are falling like a curtain around your face, hiding you from the rest of the world.

A hand sinks into the softness of the nest, right next to your face, long claws digging hard into the furs, to the point where you hear them tearing — a form of restraint, maybe? You can't think about it too much, though. Heat pools in your belly abruptly, your vagina tightens with burning pain; your insides aching with pleasure and your chest tightening before everything explodes in a devastating orgasm. You scream, your pussy clenching around his invading fingers, and you close your eyes so tight you see stars shining in the darkness of your eyelids.

You can't breathe; you really try to breathe through it, but nothing comes, there's just your lips parted in a silent scream - your body too tense, too tense, as the orgasm washes over you with the force of a tidal wave. Your pussy cries, flooding his hand and sucking him at the same time. Goosebumps run through your body, muscles twitch, sweat slightly erupts from your pores, and when you finally come down, your body feels indulgent and soft. When he pulls his fingers out of you with a wet snap, you gape, hating the void he's left.

He's an alien, you repeat weakly in the confusing haze of your mind, a creature that coerced you and took you away from your planet without your permission. What you are experiencing are just pleasure hormones. Nothing more or less than a hormonal combination of serotonin, endorphins, dopamine and oxytocin. They are truly responsible for the feeling of well-being, reduced stress and the relaxation that seems to wash over your body at the moment. Doh'kein is not a god, he is not a god. No matter how much your body disagrees with that right now.

Doh'kein purrs as he slowly strokes the aching, swollen flesh of your sex; he opens you with his wide fingers, slowly and gently, grunting in contentment as he sees how your little hole continues to contract sporadically. He moves his fingers over your sensitive clit and teases it before returning to your folds.

It's just pleasure hormones, you repeat over and over again as you feel his digits probing every inch of your abused pussy, as if he can't get enough of touching you. You still whimper with every breath and can barely lift your arms, much less fight against him as he takes his time inspecting your hole and all the wetness that gushes from there. Your body was still affected on some level by the sedative he had given you earlier and, now, by the powerful orgasm that brutally ripped through your insides. All you want is to snuggle into those soft furs and sleep.

Doh'kein, however, would not allow this.

You mewl a little when he grabs you by the waist and turns you onto your stomach in one fluid movement. You feel like putty; choosing to just give in and let him mold you however he wants - even if, miraculously, you had some strength to fight him, it's obvious that you wouldn't be able to. He adjusts you on your knees, spreading your legs wide as he does so. The explicit position embarrasses you, but you do nothing but gasp as your face is buried in the bed and your ass lifted into the air.

He positions himself behind you. His large body shadowing yours, his hand sliding almost reverently down the sharp curve of your spine until he cups a plump globe of your buttock between his fingers in a firm grip. You blush and bite your lip as you feel a hot, heavy, wet shaft fall into the crack of your ass. He gently slides there a few times, grinding against you as he continues squeezing your flesh, lifting and lowering your ass by the length of his cock.

"I've wanted you every moment since I found you. Every day smelling you, but not being able to act, was torture. Being patient has never been more difficult for me than in those days." He confides in that baritone voice, threading his other hand into the strands of your hair, gently digging his claws into your scalp and pulling to force you to arch your back more. You groan at the sensation, your hips beginning to mimic the movements of his, sliding your ass cheeks onto his dick yourself. "But the wait was worth it. It's time for me to fill you, it's time for me to finally make you mine. My mate." He finishes whispering in your brain, the little chip in your skin working quickly to translate the growled words and clicks of his jaws. His words, his smell, his movements...everything is pushing you into another spiral of pleasure.

Too weak to object, you just shiver as the extraterrestrial creature aligns his monstrous cock with your newly stretched pussy, his fat tip coated with that natural lubricant poking at your wet entrance. He firmly grips your hips and, with one determined thrust, sits inside you.

...

That's it.

There is no slow entry or split stretch.

He just pushes and goes in.

You scream.

It's very big. You feel like you're being torn apart, split in two, stabbed from the inside, and you desperately grab the fur beneath you to crawl away from the burning pain, but Doh'kein's grip on your hip keeps you in a steel prison. Maybe he thought about it and decided that it would be easier if he came in at once instead of prolonging the torture - and maybe later, when you had a clear head and thought about it, you agree that this was actually the best choice. But all you know now is pain. You scream as he leaves; each little barb protruding from the underside of his menacing cock abusing your inner walls, vibrating your overstimulated clit and sending stabs of pain throughout your entire being. When he plunges into you again, he goes even deeper, slamming hard against your cervix, bruising it.

Tears flood your eyes instantly and you sob into the fur, clutching the covers so tightly that your knuckles ache and turn white. Your body shakes with pain and shock, and you can feel you soaking the furs with your tears and saliva as you cry, softly begging him to stop.

Surprisingly, upon hearing your whimpers, he stays still for a moment, buried deep inside you. Desperately trying to accommodate him, your walls contract repeatedly and grip his shaft, and beneath the blinding pain, there is a surprisingly pleasurable sensation of being completely filled, completely stretched. Full of him.

The predator is grumbling behind your back. Elongated grunts and sporadic snorts. Like a poorly restrained animal. The grip of his fingers on your hip is painful and you can feel the tips of his claws bruising your skin. You'd have marks after this, you think. Bloody cuts and purple bruises as the price for getting involved with something (someone) your human body should theoretically be incapable of handling. If you survived, of course.

"You're so...tight, pauk, I never imagined...paya, your h'dui'se is addictive-" Your translator seems to have some difficulty with some of his words and you blink, confused, but at the same time overwhelmed with all these sensations. By God, he looks positively wrecked - barely clinging to the limits of self-control.

And then, apparently having resigned himself to the fact that he was going to lose this battle, Doh'kein thrusts again, his balls slapping against your wetness and your clit. At that moment, you knew that the devastating and unreal pleasure you felt was, most likely, the result of your brain; like a desperate attempt to deal with the pain of this unnatural mating – because honestly, nothing should feel this painfully good.

“You look so good, my little human.” Growling, he pressed his claws into your skin a little tighter and this time you were absolutely sure there was a cut and blood. “Don’t fight me.”

“Ooh, God,” you whimper as his cock continues to defy the limits of your human capacity. It’s too big, too weird, and you can literally feel how your walls try to reject it.

Doh'kein flattens a giant hand across your back, pressing your body further against the nest of soft fur. “Easy now, mate. You can take me." He pushes deeper. “You see? I'm completely inside you. You feel me? Do you feel like my cock gives you no choice? It shouldn't be there, should it? Oh no, it shouldn't. It's wrong, isn't it? But isn’t it just as good?”

God. He suddenly becomes talkative, the small chip implanted in your skin working quickly to translate the rude words that clack through his jaws.

“Y-yeah,” you cry, though. Because, yes, it's good in fact.

“And it's about to feel even better." He grabs you by the hips and pushes you hard. He fucks you repeatedly, and it's painful, very painful, but it only fuels you pleasure. Another thrust, and this time he forces a broken moan from your depths. Your wetness soaks his waist, your pussy clenches around him with torturous eagerness, and the predator on your back sets a relentless pace. You gasp a strangled mewl and shake, clutching the furs beside your head for dear life, trying to keep yourself as stable as possible with each brutal jolt of his body against yours. There is no romance or soft touches from a gentle lover. He's fucking you. Claiming your body in an undeniable act of animalistic possession. A true predator in heat.

There is no mercy. He abuses you with his monstrous strength, with his unparalleled stamina, and takes everything from you – your dignity, your free will, and any future hope of finding a human who can match him; in the vague and foolish hope in the possibility that you would return to Earth. His claws dig into your hips, every breath he takes is a cruel growl, and you express out loud your pain and your pleasure in equal measure.

Each little pliable barb at the base of his penis rubs fiercely and repeatedly against your tight inner walls, reaching spots inside you you didn't even know existed. Despite the tension and pain, the warmth grows and blooms like a beautiful flower in your womb again. You mewl and whine, feeling the building release tighten in your core; you needed little to fall off that precipice of ecstasy again. But Doh'kein grunts deeply, calms the fierce thrusts in your pussy and slowly pulls out of your body.

“N-no, wait, please-” you breathe desperately, pushing your hips back to maintain contact with him. Desperation taking over your body as the tendrils of ecstasy slip like sand through your fingers.

The creature deeply rumbles what you know to be a laugh (a laugh at your expense, much to your embarrassment) and parts your ass cheeks, exposing your wet, swollen folds, the cruel pulsing of your pussy around nothing. You don't know why he stopped - since he's obviously been craving this even more than you, but he's taking his sweet time now, widening your hole and digging those claws into your skin possessively - and you feel an embarrassing need of screaming at the top of your lungs for him to just go back to fucking you in that ridiculously comfortable nest.

"Do you like that, pet..." He growls and it's a statement, not a question. He knows you like it. Your body is making it obvious. You blush and try to pull yourself up onto your shaking elbows, but Doh'kein is faster. In an almost savage movement, he wraps his long fingers around the back of your neck and pushes your head down, making you scream with your cheek pressed firmly against the furs of the nest.

He places his other hand next to your head and lowers himself until he is hovering a few centimeters from your body; big, wide, powerful. You can feel his alien jaws ruffling the strands of your hair, you can feel the strange tubes of his dreadlocks tickling your back, and you can especially feel the possessive, territorial way in which he holds you still as he press you by the back of your neck. There's not much you can do but give in, soften your body against his grip and submit to this creature that is obviously countless times stronger than you.

His broad chest pushes against your back as he makes the rumbling, crackling sound again, a more aggressive (though definitely satisfied) purr, and your nostrils are filled with his earthy scent. It fills the back of your throat, your lungs, your mind, your body, and makes you ache even more for him. You let out a breathless moan and writhe on the bed, pressing the fur tightly between your fingers and begging for him as you arch your spine and displays your intimacy to him. Your pussy cries, desperately searching for the cock that dominated you just moments ago.

"My name." Your body is a trembling, pulsing line of nerves and you barely hear the command whispered in your ear. Everything in your line of vision (already hampered by the way your hair is wildly loose) is blurry and confused and you try to swim out of the sea of pleasure you're drowning in, in the smell of earth and rain and an undeniably masculine musk that is threatening to dull your senses once again.

"What--"

"Say my name."

Your eyes widen and you almost choke on the word before it finally escapes your lips.

"D-Doh'kein."

He smiles, huffs his strange laugh into your hair, pushing that scary member between your ass cheeks to reward you - sliding it up and down once, just teasing your pussy every now and then until you're squirming.

Only then does he say. "Beg."

His claws are ghosts of danger on the sensitive skin of your throat, in spots that could quickly and easily end your life. And you know he could, without any effort, hurt you and draw blood - just as he did the battered flesh of your hips. But he doesn't. And that alone, the control and dominance that exude from the male behind you, makes your head spin and your pussy tighten until it hurts.

“Please…please – I just, I need this, please…” You mumble, only half coherent.

He held your ass firmly, spreading you wide, before pressing his swollen tip against your entrance. You choke and bite your lip, but even all the need and heat coursing through your veins isn't enough to drown out the scream that explodes from you as he plunges back into your pussy with a roar. The stretch takes you to the limit you were teetering on just moments ago and your body falls apart, happy to seize the opportunity it had been denied before. You tighten around him, holding him with all your might; your whole body twitching, but Doh'kein doesn't seem to care as he pounds into you with relentless thrusts, grunts rising from within him like thunder sounding in the sky. You scream again, your vision blurs and your torturous pleasure echoes wildly between the walls of the room on this alien ship. Your hard nipples rub against the fur of the bed as they grind incessantly to his strong thrusts, and the monstrous cock continues to rearrange your insides; the ridges of his length torment you, drive you crazy, and prolong your release until you're nothing but a wet, quivering mess.

He leans over you again; and you cry as you feel the wetness of his growling saliva run down your exposed shoulder, hot and slick, the black tubes moving like a curtain around both of you, and he grips the back of your neck tighter as he begins to pound into you violently - frantically.

He is an animal and there is no other definition that fits what is happening.

You make a sound like a sob. There are tears on your face, hot and salty against your skin. You can no longer tell where you begins and ends, only that you are fused with Doh'kein. His hips on your ass, his cock on your cervix, which he abuses with each brutal thrust. You can't say who you are or remember why you're here, but you can tell he's close.

“I need to breed you,” he growls into the side of your face, pressing you into the nest almost angrily, “I don’t know if it’s possible, but I can’t think of anything other than filling and breeding you for the rest of my life – I need this – I need to try, right now, every day–”

“I want it, I want – I want it,” you babble incoherently through the saliva that’s pooled in your mouth, all sense of self-preservation going out the window as your senses are dulled, “I want you to breed me, I want it, please!" The fact that probably nothing could be generated from an alien/human union seemed to be irrelevant to both.

You just accept it all, happy to be used as he fucks and bites you with those strange jaws and desperately chases his own release.

Doh'kein growls and hits you one last time. His cock grows and swells and feels like it definitely shouldn't fit, like there shouldn't be enough place inside you to accommodate it - but you moan, pussy stretching like it was made to envelop him, and then he's basically locked inside you. You float, only vaguely aware of him pressing you into the nest as he collapses some of his colossal weight onto you, because all you can think about is his roars, the hot cum filling you in thick bursts, plugged inside you by his inhuman cock. He grinds his hips into your ass, pushing his cum deeper and deeper, but the amount is so great that it inevitably escapes where your bodies are joined.

You feel soft and fuzzy, stuck in that satisfied, complacent head space. You writhe with aftershocks and warm goosebumps that bubble up your entire body, from your scalp to your toes. Even though every inch of your body hurts and you know there are cuts and bruises on your flesh, you've never felt as full as you do in this moment.

Time passes between deep, panting breaths and consciousness returns in fragments; first, the intense, aching pulse between your legs, where Doh'kein is lodged deep inside you. Secondly, his weight on your back is practically knocking the air out of your lungs. Third, you are sweaty and sticky and bleeding in places.

You shift instinctively, trying to lift one leg, and he growls at you. His cock tugs at your insides in a way that isn't pleasant and you freeze at the sharp stab of pain. Your body finally feeling the effects of the extraterrestrial union. You moan at the sensation, but it comes out more as a wheeze since your lungs can't fully expand under his weight. “Y-you're crushing me, Doh'kein. I need to breathe, please-”

This catches the attention of the giant behind you and he rolls to the side, the feeling of his cock slipping out and letting more of that sticky fluid escape from your used pussy draws a low mewl from your throat. You have two seconds to inflate your chest for oxygen before he's turning your body and climbing on top of you once again. You blink like an owl as you find yourself face to face with the predator once again. The orange orbs are fixed on yours as he supports his weight on his hands beside your head, long ropes of defined muscles run up his forearms and into his broad shoulders, giving him an intimidating appearance. Not that the four jaws on his alien face weren't enough for that, of course.

You're proud that you don't jump when he touches your face with those sharp clawed fingers, holding your chin and turning your face from side to side.

“I, huh-” you begin, confused when he does nothing but inspect your face inch by inch in complete silence. Now that the frenzy and excitement were subsiding, a different kind of embarrassment washes over you as he lets go of your face and shifts his attention to your breasts and stomach. He ignores you when you stutter a shy question as you feel him groping your breasts and your waist, too rough fingers caressing as gently as he can the bloody welts where his claws have scratched you. He doesn't apologize or show any kind of regret, nothing about his alien facial expression changes when he looks up at you with his ember eyes again. But he continues massaging your flesh in gentle strokes, tilting his head towards you and moving his jaws once. And you know that's the biggest apology you'll ever get from him.

He seems pleased with whatever look is on your face at the moment, because soon you can hear that purring sound once again. A sound that, added to the extreme tiredness that plagues your body, makes you want to close your eyes and sleep. But Doh'kein has other plans. Without any effort, he wraps his arms around your body and pulls you into his lap as he stands, taking you both to what you assume is the bedroom's bathroom.

He doesn't stop his purring as he walks and you're grateful for that, the sound is calm and light and makes you forget about the many problems you obviously need to face. You wouldn't waste energy on that at the moment, though. It wasn't something that was worth or would make any difference, to be honest. Apparently you are bonded to this creature, destined to be his mate or whatever. You are no longer on Earth and cannot even match your strengths and abilities with this creature. Fighting it would be futile.

You look down and touch your belly, marked by some bruises from his powerful grip, and wonder if the union had any success. If not, he might want to try again, just like he says. The thought curls warm and shaky at the bottom of your spine and you feel your face heat up as you discover that you would welcome more attempts.

You look at him from under your eyelashes as he enters the bathroom, leading you both to a huge bathtub - although, to you, the thing looks more like a swimming pool. As you watch him, you notice that the predator's face is as rough and scary as it always was, but when his beautiful orange eyes lower and look at you with such devotion and possession, it's impossible to control the tremor in your body. On some level he is under your command too, you realize. He has been since the beginning, when he allowed himself to be captured and imprisoned just to chase your scent - the scent of his mate. Just the thought of it sends a thrill through you.

You feel his hands on your buttocks as he adjusts your body against his scaly skin, his other hand pressing a few buttons to make the tub fill. A shiver runs down your spine. He shows no sign of straining as he holds you, just keeps you steady and perched on his shoulder as much as you can with your dreadlocks falling loosely around his head. You feel his muscles flex beneath you.

Clutching you to his body, his release still leaking between your thighs, Doh'kein carefully steps into the tub and sits down, arranging you on his lap. You keep your head on his shoulder, feeling his rough hands squeezing your waist and hips, the hot water enveloping your muscles in the best way possible. He squeezes your flesh almost gently, sliding his fingertips instead of his claws. He's massaging your bruises again, you notice. With a tired sigh, you settle your head in the crook of his neck and you can swear his purr stutters for a second.

"Rest, little ooman. We have a long way to go." He grunts glumly and enigmatically, but you just hum some answer, already feeling your eyelids heavy and mind lethargic.

The last thing you think, still hearing his purring and his strange attempt at aftercare is that, with some effort, you could adapt to this new life.

Tag list: @stunkbiggu @jasminedragoon @dij-ology @sophiaj650 @lem-hhn yangmaeum @chanchirajan1998 @unsatisfiedanddisappointed @bfences @regianenascimentooficial @simplyxwwww @notquitehero @1mawh0re @takeabreathdeath @henrysimp @the-weird-mold-in-the-sink @serendipitous-fernweh @queenkassradite @misscaller06 @two-pounds-of-crab-legs @skeletonea @paninibit @sunflowersunlight7-blog @ghostslillady @imhungry675 @eddiewym69 @mortuaconjuga @jolynesposts @jacobelordiswifeee @aphroditeslips @sanidrift @ambergluskin @noname2246

••••••

[pixiesndberries]

𝐃𝐄𝐀𝐑 𝐅𝐔𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃, 𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 —

a small series of Jujutsu Kaisen men as your husband !

☆ OUR STARS : Nanami Kento, Gojo Satoru, Geto Suguru, Choso Kamo, Aoi Todo, Toji Fushiguro, and more !

━ REQUESTED BY : none

━⁠ WARNINGS : none

ෆ PIXIE'S NOTE ! : heya pookies I know it's been a while 🙏🏻 but here I am creating another series to pay off the days I wasn't posting so much —⁠ forgive me my pookies 🏃🏻‍♀️💨 we have holiday break so I'm going to grind a lot 😝

NANAMI KENTO, as your husband !

• Nanami is the perfect standard for male wife, argue with the wall —⁠ this man knows how to cook, clean his home, does his own laundry, and mostly basic life skills that most men barely know which is pretty much a big turn on.

Nanami who always supports your decision as long as it doesn't have any bad effects in your life, he respects you a lot to whatever you do in your life —⁠ he thinks that just because you are married it doesn't mean he have full possession on you, though sometimes when you asked for his opinions about your decisions in such situations he isn't shy of what he thinks.

Nanami the type of husband who will always do small and big things for you even though you can do it yourself —⁠ carrying groceries for you, helping you in the kitchen, sending you to your work, helps you clean the house, and goes to the mall with you.

; he surprisingly took the shopping bags form your hands gently "your hands will get numb, this is pretty heavy." he says with his usual tone as he looks at you softly, you can't help but to smile in his small little gestures and gosh it's making her heart melt.

"thank you, kento." you say as you gave him a big smile and pressed a kiss on his cheeks making him grin.

Nanami who is being a worrywart when you don't reply quickly when you're out with your friends late night —⁠

; kento | sent a message.

10:24 pm

kento : just got home love ❤️

kento : what time are you going home?

11:04 pm

kento : love, tell me when you're going home I'll pick you up ❤️

kento : is everything going alright?

kento : kind of worried, hope you respond soon 😅

11:07 pm

kento : please reach out to me when you can so I can pick you up ☺️

kento : I'm worried 😢

you : love I'm fine sorry, we we're drinking just a tiny bit 😭

you : you can pick me up now 🏃🏻‍♀️💨

Nanami the type of husband to use cringe emojis but you appreciate it anyways, he barely use his phone or try to use emojis —⁠ headcanon : he learned using emojis from yuji or gojo 🙏🏻 you find it silly and cute anyways.

Nanami who's phone is always filled with your photos and some sceneries with you in it —⁠ he doesn't like taking photos of himself that much though, he loves taking photos of you and look through it when he's not busy or when he misses you and he's at work.

Nanami when he learned how to use Instagram and he can't stop posting you —⁠ Gojo probably tried influencing him to use social media once and he was like no??? not until one time you took a photo of him during one of your dates and you asked him, "hey can I post this?" and of course he said yes and after that you kept posting him at some times which led him to the idea of posting you as well since he thinks you deserve it too.

; nanami.kento1990

tagged : @y/n.igcom | ❤️

itaaa.yuji and 13 others liked this post.

gojosatoru | he knows how to use Instagram 😦 ???

gojosatoru | WHO TAUGHT YOU ⁉️

itaaa.yuji | first post !!

nobaraaaa | parents 🙏🏻

Nanami who is nervous to talk about the future he wants with you — not totally nervous it's more like when you talked about kids you wanted soon with him he will always be like, "sure I also thought about that." with his usual tone but deep inside talking about it was his hyper fixation and he can't stop thinking about it.

Nanami who never in his life forget about giving you flowers in small or big occasions —⁠

; "happy mother's day." he says softly with a grin in his face as he hands you a bouquet of your favourite flowers, "kento, I'm not a mother yet." you laugh as you take the bouquet from him, admiring the flowers for a second. He never fails to make you feel happy, "maybe soon?" he chuckles then makes his way to give you a hug. "sure." you laughed and happily hugged him back tightly, exchanging I love you.

Nanami who never left by your side especially when you are not okay, he will leave his work for a day or even weeks if you really need him by your side —⁠ he will never get tired of comforting you; if you need a shoulder to cry on? He's there. He can stay all day in bed with you to make you feel better —⁠ take you out in a vacation if that's what you really need or probably do every house chores just to make you rest.

─ REBLOGS, LIKES, AND COMMENTS ARE APPRECIATED FEEL FREE TO REQUEST!

[pucksandpower]

Lover

Charles Leclerc x Reader

Summary: the little (and not so little) ways that you and Charles show your love for each other

You’re in the kitchen, phone pressed to your ear as you listen intently to Charles’ mother give you her famous tiramisu recipe step-by-step. “Now, this next part is very important,” she stresses. “You’ll need one cup of granulated sugar to add to the mascarpone filling.”

“Got it, one cup sugar for the filling,” you confirm.

Pascale chuckles warmly. “I’m so glad Charles has found such a lovely girl who wants to learn my recipes. He’s always loved my tiramisu since he was a little boy.”

You smile, touched by her kind words. You and Charles have been together for a year now, but it still makes your heart flutter to be so accepted into his close-knit family.

“It means so much to me that you’re sharing this recipe with me,” you tell Pascale sincerely.

You chat with her a while longer, going over some of the trickier steps and getting tips on how to best soak the ladyfingers. Finally, you have the full recipe memorized and are ready to give it a try.

“Okay, I think I’ve got it now. Thank you so much again, Pascale! I really appreciate you taking the time to walk me through this.”

“Of course, chère! Let me know how it turns out. Charles is a lucky man to have such a thoughtful girlfriend,” Pascale says warmly before hanging up.

You grin, eager to get started. You know tiramisu is Charles’ absolute favorite dessert and you want to surprise him with a homemade version tonight after he finally comes back from his latest race.

Humming to yourself, you gather the ingredients — mascarpone, eggs, espresso, cocoa powder, and of course, the sugar. You double check you have everything and preheat the oven so the ladyfingers will be perfect.

As you start the recipe, you feel a rush of excitement. You follow each step meticulously, Pascale’s voice guiding you in your mind. You carefully separate the eggs and beat the whites to stiff peaks. When it’s time to add the sugar to the mascarpone filling, you pause.

Now, which one was the sugar again? You look between the two identical jars of white powder, second-guessing yourself.

Shoot, you should have labeled them.

After a moment of hesitation, you decide on the bowl on the left. Yes, that must be sugar, you reassure yourself. You mix it into the silky mascarpone filling until it’s perfectly combined. Once assembled, you spread the filling over the ladyfingers and cover it with a final dusting of cocoa powder.

It looks absolutely beautiful. You did it! You made Charles’ favorite dessert completely from scratch. You can’t wait to see the look on his face when he takes the first delicious bite.

You glance at the clock as you clean up. Charles will be home soon. You carefully store the tiramisu in the fridge to chill until after dinner.

Right on time, you hear Charles’ keys in the lock. You hurry to greet him, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “I missed you!”

He grins and nuzzles your neck. “And I missed you, ma belle.”

Over dinner on the balcony, Charles tells you all about the race and his ambitious one-stop strategy under the Suzuka cherry blossoms. You listen attentively, asking questions and laughing at his dramatic reenactments.

Finally, it’s time for dessert. “I have a surprise for you,” you say with a playful smile.

Charles’ eyes light up. “Oh really? Do tell!”

You bring the chilled tiramisu to the table, along with two small plates and forks. “Ta-da! I made your favorite, with your mom’s secret recipe.”

“No way, you’re kidding!” Charles exclaims. He takes in the layered dessert with delight. “It looks incredible, mon cœur. I can’t believe you did this for me.”

You blush happily as you dish out servings for both of you. “I hope I did it justice. Your mom walked me through the whole thing over the phone.”

Charles takes a big eager bite, closing his eyes as he savors it. “Mmm … it’s absolutely delicious,” he declares after swallowing. “Seriously, this is amazing. Here, you have to try it!”

He holds out a forkful toward you. You accept it into your mouth, immediately bursting into incredulous laughter. “Oh my god, this is so salty! I definitely screwed up somewhere. You don’t have to eat it!”

But Charles just grins and takes another hearty bite. “What do you mean? It tastes perfect to me.”

You stare at him in confusion. “You can’t actually like this, Charles. It’s like I poured the entire salt shaker in by accident.”

“No no, it’s great! The best tiramisu I’ve ever had,” he insists. Seeing your disbelief, he takes your hand from across the table. “Really, Y/N. I love it because you made it just for me. With love. That’s what makes it so special.”

You feel your insides turn soft and melty at his words. “You’re just saying that to be nice,” you protest weakly.

He shakes his head. “I’m saying it because it’s true. Because ...” He pauses, looking into your eyes sincerely. “Because I’m completely in love with you, mon amour. I’d eat a thousand salty tiramisus if it made you smile like this.”

You can’t help the joyful laugh that escapes you. “You’re such a hopeless romantic, you know that?” You tease him.

“Only for you,” he flirts back with a playful wink.

You lean across the table to kiss him tenderly. When you pull back, the adoration shining in his green eyes leaves you breathless.

Maybe he’s right. It doesn’t matter that the tiramisu is an utter fail. All that matters is that you made it with love.

And that’s the sweetest taste of all.

***

It’s been a few weeks since your salty tiramisu mishap. You and Charles laughed about it afterwards, but you were still determined to make him something special with your own two hands.

So you decided to take up crocheting. It was trickier than you expected, but you persevered, watching YouTube tutorials and getting tangled in yarn for hours.

Finally, after a month of work, you’ve produced your first wearable creation — a sweater for Charles.

It’s an oversized style, cream colored with red racing stripes across the chest. You did your best to evenly stitch the rows, but there are gaps in some places that cause the stripes to waver drunkenly.

The sleeves are several inches too long, dangling adorably over Charles’ hands when he tries it on. And the neckline gapes open no matter how he tugs it.

But none of the flaws matter to Charles. His face lights up like a kid on Christmas morning when you present it to him.

“You made this? For me?” He asks as he eagerly pulls it on.

You nod, suddenly shy. “I wanted to make something special for you, even if my skills are still .... developing,” you admit with an embarrassed chuckle.

But Charles is beaming, admiring himself in the mirror. “It’s perfect! Seriously, I love it. This is the best gift ever!”

He engulfs you in a big hug, sleeves flopping over you. You hug him back, relieved and happy he appreciates your efforts.

From that day on, Charles insists on wearing the sweater constantly, even styling it with whatever eclectic pants he decides to wear on race weekends.

You try to discourage him — the holes along the hem are getting bigger from snagging and the neckline is truly unsalvageable.

But Charles won’t hear it. “Are you kidding? This is my new lucky charm!” He declares. “I have to wear it for every race now.”

Sure enough, he starts a winning streak whenever he dons your handmade sweater, even though it’s quite a departure from the fitted shirts and designer hoodies he previously favored, leaving his fans scratching their heads at the sudden change.

You watch in amused endearment as he proudly wears your gift for candid pre-race interviews and photo-ops. The overlong sleeves just make his exuberant gestures even more adorable.

Finally, a reporter works up the courage to ask him about the quirky sweater. “That’s quite a statement piece you have been arriving in each Sunday,” the reporter comments during a press conference. “What made you decide to wear it?”

Charles’ face lights up even more. “My sweater? It was handmade for me by my incredible girlfriend,” he announces, making you blush furiously from the audience.

“She worked so hard on it, even though crocheting is totally new to her. So I wear it to show how much I appreciate her and how talented she is,” he continues sincerely.

The reporters “aww” as Charles shows off the uneven stitches like they’re couture. “It’s my good luck charm now too! She put so much love into making it that I feel like I can’t lose whenever I have it on.”

He looks directly at you, eyes shining. “It’s the best gift I’ve ever received, because she made it just for me. I’m the luckiest man in the world to be with someone so thoughtful and caring.”

You have to wipe away joyful tears at his heartfelt words. You never imagined your clumsy crocheting would come to mean so much to him.

But Charles wears that sweater for every race, no matter how tattered it gets. Because for him, it represents something priceless — your love.

***

You hum along to the radio as you stir the melted chocolate in a bowl. The rich aroma fills the air of your shared apartment. Today is Valentine’s Day and you want to surprise your boyfriend with homemade chocolate-covered strawberries when he gets home from training.

You dip the first plump, red strawberry into the silky chocolate, letting the excess drip off before placing it gently onto a baking sheet lined with parchment paper. One by one, you coat each strawberry, taking care to fully submerge them.

When the tray is full, you quickly pop one glistening strawberry into your mouth and slide the rest into the fridge to let the chocolate harden. As you wait, you tidy up the kitchen, washing the bowls and utensils used to make the treat. A glance at the clock on the microwave tells you Charles will be home soon.

The sound of the front door opening makes you grin. “Mon amour, I’m back!” Charles calls out.

You grab the tray of chocolate-covered strawberries and head towards his voice. “Welcome home! I have a surprise for y-”

You stop short, your throat suddenly feeling scratchy and tight. Your lips tingle oddly.

Confused, you lift a hand to your neck. Is this just excitement to see Charles? But no, your tongue is starting to swell now too. Your breathing becomes labored.

Charles rounds the corner. “Mon ange, what’s wro-” His eyes widen as he takes in your distress. In a few quick strides he is by your side, the tray clattering forgotten to the floor. “What’s happening?”

You wheeze, barely able to force out words. “Can’t … breathe …”

Charles sweeps you into his arms and runs for the front door. “Hospital. Now.”

You cling to him, each ragged breath a struggle. The world seems to blur and tilt alarmingly.

Then somehow you’re in Charles’ car, speeding down the street. One of his hands grips the wheel while the other clutches yours tightly. “Just hold on, stay with me. We’re almost there.”

You try to respond but only manage a choked gurgle. Black spots swim across your vision. A feeling of detachment steals over you.

The car screeches to a stop outside the emergency department entrance. Charles lifts you from the passenger seat, calling for help. There is a flurry of activity as a team of doctors and nurses rushes over with a gurney.

You are barely aware of being wheeled into an exam room, too focused on trying to pull air into your lungs. A mask is fitted over your face, dispensing blessed oxygen. An IV is inserted into your arm.

The medical staff works quickly, asking Charles questions as they begin treatment. Antihistamines. Steroids. Epinephrine. The medications slowly start to counteract your reaction. The vice-like tightness in your chest and throat gradually lessens.

After what feels like an eternity, you are able to take full breaths again. The room comes back into focus, no longer spinning. Charles sits at your bedside, clutching your hand, his handsome face creased with worry.

The doctor examines you, nodding with satisfaction as your symptoms continue to improve. “It appears you had a severe allergic reaction. We’ll run some tests to determine the cause.”

Charles looks stricken. “But how? What could have possibly …” His gaze falls on your swollen lips. “The strawberries,” he whispers.

You nod weakly. It had to have been. You’ve never reacted to them before, but an allergy can develop at any time.

Charles smoothes back your hair, distress pouring off of him. “I’m so sorry, mon cœur. I should have been there with you.”

You squeeze his hand. “You couldn’t have known. I’m okay now thanks to you.”

He just shakes his head, unconvinced.

The testing confirms it — you are now mysteriously allergic to strawberries. The doctor gives you an EpiPen prescription and strict instructions to the fruit in the future.

After several more hours of observation, you are finally discharged from the hospital with an exhausted Charles supporting you.

The sun has long since set on what was supposed to have been a romantic Valentine’s Day. Instead, you spent it swollen and terrified in the ER.

Back home, Charles tucks you into bed, insisting you rest. You catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror — puffy-faced and red-eyed — and cringe. Some Valentine you turned out to be.

You reach for Charles’ hand again. “I’m so sorry I ruined our evening. I wanted it to be perfect but instead I ended up scaring you half to death and forcing you to rush me to the hospital.”

Charles silences you with a gentle kiss. “Not another word, mon amour. You have nothing to apologize for. All that matters is that you are safe.”

He caresses your cheek, looking at you with such love and tenderness it makes your heart ache. “You could never ruin anything. You are the light of my life — my everything. No Valentine’s Day is complete without you.”

You feel yourself tearing up. Even after the ordeal of this evening, he still looks at you like you hung the moon.

“You’re still the most beautiful Valentine I’ve ever had, you know that? A little swelling can’t hide that.” Charles brushes away your tears and pulls you close. “Rest now. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

You nestle into his embrace, letting his warmth and steady heartbeat soothe you. As you drift off, you can’t help but marvel at how lucky you are to have this man. Even at your puffiest and most distressed, he thinks you’re beautiful.

No matter what surprises life throws at you, with Charles by your side you know everything will be okay. He loves you unconditionally — swollen lips, hospital visits, and all.

***

“Close your eyes,” you say to Charles as you lead him into the living room.

He laughs and covers his eyes with his hands. “What are you up to, mon amour?”

You grin, though he cannot see it. “You’ll have to wait and see.”

You guide him across the room, hands on his shoulders. He shuffles along, peeking through his fingers.

“No peeking!” You scold, and he squeezes his eyes shut again, smiling.

You position him in front of the coffee table. “Okay,” you say. “You can open your eyes now.”

Charles drops his hands. On the table sits a large gift-wrapped box with a massive red bow on top. His eyes go wide with surprise and delight.

“For me?”

You nod, bouncing on your toes excitedly. “Happy birthday!”

He pulls you into a tight hug. “You are too good to me, ma belle. Thank you.” Leaning down, he captures your lips in a sweet kiss.

You swat his shoulder playfully. “You don’t even know what it is yet! Open it.”

Charles grins and turns his attention to the present. He carefully unties the bow and lifts the lid on the box. Inside sits a sleek red bomber jacket with the Ferrari logo embroidered on the chest. He runs his fingers over the leather appreciatively.

“This is beautiful,” he murmurs.

“Look on the back,” you prompt.

Charles turns the jacket over. Across the back, in bold white letters, it reads: DADDY.

His eyes go wide again, and for a moment he just stands there gaping at the jacket. Then his eyes roll back in his head and he collapses to the floor in a dead faint.

“Charles!” You rush to his side, kneeling next to him on the plush carpet. Gently you pat his cheek, trying to rouse him. “Charles, wake up!”

After a few tense moments, his eyelashes begin to flutter. You breathe a sigh of relief as he opens his eyes.

“Wha … what happened?” He mumbles.

“You fainted, silly.”

You help him sit up slowly. He puts a hand to his head, still looking dazed.

“I had the strangest dream …” He trails off, glancing around the room. His gaze lands on the jacket lying nearby, and his eyes widen again.

“It wasn’t a dream,” you say softly.

Charles looks at you, lips parted in shock. “Then you … you’re …”

You furrow your brow in confusion. “I’m what?”

“Pregnant!” He exclaims. “We’re having a baby!”

Now it’s your turn for your eyes to go wide. “What? No! I’m not pregnant!”

Charles frowns, thoroughly bewildered. “But the jacket said … I thought it was your way of telling me we’re expecting.”

You can’t help but laugh. “Oh my goodness, no. The jacket is for a very different reason.”

He looks almost disappointed. “It is?”

You take his hands in yours. “I know you’ve been talking about getting a dog for months now, ever since you met Mimi.”

Comprehension begins to dawn on Charles’s face. “So the jacket …”

“Is for our new puppy!” You finish excitedly.

Charles’ face lights up. “You got me a dog? Really?”

You nod, grinning. “Really! I picked him up yesterday from the shelter. He’s the cutest little dachshund, white with brown spots. I’ve been keeping him at your brother’s so I could surprise you today.”

Charles whoops and tackles you in another ecstatic hug. You laugh as he covers your face in rapid, smacking kisses.

“This is the best birthday surprise ever!” He crows. “I can’t believe we’re finally getting a dog. And the jacket — it’s perfect!”

He grabs the bomber and shrugs it on over his t-shirt. It fits him flawlessly, the white lettering bold against the red.

Charles scrambles to his feet and rushes to the nearest mirror, twisting this way and that to admire himself. “I love it! Thank you, thank you!”

You stand and wrap your arms around him from behind, resting your chin on his shoulder. “I’m so glad. But you should really be thanking your new baby boy.”

Charles turns in your arms and cups your face in his hands. “Have I told you lately that you’re the best girlfriend in the world?”

You grin up at him. “Hmm, I don’t recall. Feel free to remind me.”

“You …” He punctuates each word with a kiss. “Are …” kiss “The …” kiss “Most …” kiss “Thoughtful …” kiss “Loving …” kiss “Girlfriend …” kiss “In …” kiss “The …” kiss “World.”

You pretend to swoon. “My, what a sweet talker you are.”

He chuckles and kisses you tenderly. When you break apart, his eyes are shining.

“So when do I get to meet our new baby?” He asks eagerly.

“Right now, if you want,” you say. “We can go pick him up from Lorenzo.”

Charles pumps a fist in the air. “Yes! I’m going to be the best dog dad ever, just you wait and see.” He crouches down and coos, “Who’s a good boy? Who’s a good boy?”

You pat his head playfully. “You’re a good boy.”

Taking your hand, he practically drags you out the door, babbling excitedly about names, beds, toys, and treats for the puppy the whole way to the car. Your heart swells watching his enthusiasm. You know that dog is going to be the most loved and cared for pup in the world.

When you arrive at his brother’s apartment, Charles bounds up to the front door ahead of you, unable to contain his excitement. Lorenzo opens it laughing, the wiggling brown and white puppy in his arms.

“Someone’s here to see you!” He says, handing the squirming bundle of fluff to Charles.

“Hello, hello!” Charles cuddles the puppy to his chest, his whole face alight with pure joy. The pup responds by licking every inch of Charles’ face he can reach.

Charles laughs delightedly. “Aren’t you just the sweetest boy? Yes you are!”

He looks up at you, eyes shining. “Thank you, mon cœur. This is the best gift I could have asked for.”

You lean in and scratch the puppy behind his silky ears. “Of course. Happy birthday, my love.”

As you walk back to the car, Charles cradling the puppy like a newborn, you know in your heart that your little family is one step closer to completion.

***

The race weekend after Charles’ birthday feels strange. As you wander through the Ferrari garage during free practice, Fred rushes over looking concerned.

“Here, take a seat,” the team principal says, grabbing a folding chair and positioning it behind you. “You should not be on your feet so much in your condition.”

You frown in confusion. “What condition?”

But the French man has already hurried away. Shaking your head, you continue walking. It’s a few minutes later that you spot Pierre.

“Hey!” He says, jogging up to you. Before you can react, he places both hands on your stomach and smiles brightly. “Wow, it’s hard to believe that little baby Leclerc is in there! I can’t wait to meet my niece or nephew.”

Now you’re really bewildered. You take a small step back from Pierre’s wandering hands. “What are you talking about? I’m not pregnant!”

Pierre laughs. “Very funny. You don’t have to hide it from me.” He winks and walks away.

When Charles finds you later, you’re still puzzling over the strange encounter.

“Everyone is acting so weird,” you tell him, explaining what’s been happening all day. "It’s like they all think I’m pregnant or something."

Charles frowns. “That is odd. Where would they get that idea?”

You shake your head. “I have no idea …”

Later, after the last practice session of the day, you wander into Ferrari hospitality for a quick cup of coffee. Carlos quickly spots you and makes a beeline over, cheeks flushed with excitement.

“I just saw the photos of Charles wearing his new jacket.” He says. “A mini Leclerc on the way, how wonderful! Congratulations to you both.”

“What? No, there’s no …” you start to protest, but Carlos is already walking away.

Charles comes up beside you, having overheard. “This is getting out of hand,” he mutters. “We need to clear this up.”

“I know!” You say. “I feel bad, they all seem so excited. They must think we’re hiding a pregnancy from them.”

An idea comes to you then. Turning to Charles, you say loudly, “Honey, why don’t we go introduce the baby to everyone? I know they’re all just dying to meet him!”

Charles catches on immediately, smiling slyly. “Of course! Let’s go get our little one right now.”

You nod, linking your arm through his. As you walk away, you hear gasps and murmurs behind you.

“They already had the baby? When did this happen?”

“I can’t believe they’ve been hiding it all this time!”

You have to stifle a laugh. Charles grins and squeezes your hand.

In his driver’s room, your puppy is napping contentedly on a plush dog bed. Charles scoops him up gently so as not to wake him. Cradling the pup, you both head back out to the hospitality suite.

Everyone turns to look at you eagerly as you enter. Carlos steps forward, craning his neck to see the bundle in Charles’ arms.

“Here he is!” You announce proudly. “Our baby boy!”

Charles turns so they can see the sleeping dachshund nestled against his bomber jacket. A shocked silence falls over the room.

“Wha … that’s not a baby!” Carlos splutters. “That’s a dog!”

You and Charles just shrug with matching sly smiles. “He’s our baby.”

As the puppy yawns and stretches in Charles’ arms, licking his chin affectionately, you know with certainty that your furry new addition will be showered with just as much love and adoration as you both share for one another.

Who could ask for anything more?

[arlertwhore]

pairing: paige bueckers x fem! reader

synopsis: paige is your sneaky link & you wear her jersey to surprise her after a game.

warning (s): smut → dom paige, slightly sub reader, power play, pussy eating, fingering, nipple sucking… etc MINORS DNI

word count: 1.5k

author note: not edited, wrote late at night, and rushed ending kinda.

Paige Bueckers was NOT your girlfriend. Neither of you even had the bandwidth to focus on romance — her, with an intense basketball career occurring outside of her dynamic with you, and you, an essential slave to your university studies.

That's what made it feel like fate when you guys first met at the Uni New Years Party. Genuinely, you both believed so, and had told one and other that before fervently making out in the washroom that exact night. Granted, you were both insanely drunk, but Paige could recount the story like it was yesterday that she saw you, single, hot, and dancing unbotheredly, though it'd been three months already."Gosh, you were just sooo cute. I was asking KK & all em', 'Who is she? How is she single?' And then they're like 'Oh, she's focused and questioning, not the romantic type,' and I was thinking, 'She's perfect.'"

Despite knowing that Paige and you are not dating, and that she really appreciates your understanding of casual, which is why she's consistently fucking just you, you can't help but feel butterflies when she describes your existence as perfect.

As an athlete, a great one at that, nothing was ever perfect to Paige. Except for you. And shit, whenever you recalled her slew of admirers at your school, on the net, and among her fans, the fact she deemed none of them were worthy of her undivided attention like she had with just you made you spiral.

You loved being her only girl. You loved being the epitome of perfection to Paige Bueckers, UConn's star. Her game tonight, televised, had ran late, and you thought she'd be too exhausted to come over and play, however, after winning, she was fired up and soon sent you a picture of her in an Uber, telling you she was on her way.

Most nights, sometimes early mornings, it was the same routine. She would come over, you would buzz her into the building, let her into your apartment, and she'd shower before fucking you into oblivion whichever way she pleased. It was always fun, varying some nights. This night though, to celebrate UConn's first win of the season, you surprised her by wearing her jersey. 'Bueckers' read the back, '#5'. When you opened the door, Paige was wearing a white shirt, grey sweats, and glasses, her hair in a half-neat, half-disheveled bun. She looked so hot.

You could feel yourself getting wet at the mere sight of her. She was on her phone due to the wait for you to open the door, and she hadn't yet looked up from the gadget as she chided playfully, "Let's start opening this door faster, ma. I waited long enough to get to you all-da—" She stopped; blue eyes fixed upon your body and her jersey and your body in her jersey. You giggled teasingly. "You like it, P?" you asked, guiding her much taller stature into your apartment by the wrist with considerable ease. Paige, who usually held control, was left dumbfounded at the sight of you. "My gosh, baby," she murmured softly, the wrist you'd just been previously holding pulling you closer into her body as the other hand rubbed down your smaller frame, smoothing circles into your lower back until she gripped a handful of your bare ass, making you moan. "Paige!" you whimpered, cheek against cheek, breathlessly. "C'mon, P, play nice with me." you purred sensually. She licked her lips, pleading, "C'mere," her voice low and laced with desperation. You wouldn't listen, though, reveling in your effect on her and how she was breaking, wanting to be in control for once. You buried your face in the curve of her neck, tracing tender kisses along her most sensitive spot, coaxing out heavy, breathless sighs from the taller blonde. Your hands found her hair as you sucked a spot onto her neck, intertwining into it and unraveling her updo as you worked on her, leaving it in disarray.

"Y/N," she exhaled shakily, "Baby, quit that, or I'm not playing nice with you tonight." she warned, tone determined to repossess her dominance. Paige never really called you 'babe,' or 'baby,' — nothing sweet like that. Typically, her nasty mouth — the one that satisfied you and degraded you all at once — was calling you a dirty slut or whore, and when it got intense, she'd make you call your ownself things. She was immensely losing it talking sweetly, and this was a stark reminder.

"Do you want me stop, Paige?" you murmured, pausing briefly only to speak before delving into her neck again, licking a hot stripe up her new purple hickey before nibbling on her ivory skin. Paige suppresses a groan, reducing it to a tiny indelible noise.

"I do," she responds positively, her hands on your waist, smoothing down your ribcage before gently lifting your jersey up until her hands were underneath it. "I don't know if I wanna keep this on you or take it off," she husked conflictedly, kneading your tits.

"You're so fuckin' pretty, angel, you'd look so good both ways." Paige surprised you when her hands fell low again, lifting you up and forcing you to cling to her body as she carried you toward your bedroom. The entire way there, your lips had been pressed against each other's, and though it was risky, you trusted Paige's coordination as an athlete. Before no time, you had made it safely into your bedroom, and she gently placed you down on the mattress before stripping off her white tee.

After discarding of it somewhere amongst the dimly lit room, she slides her body between your legs, pressing her pink lips against yours and her strong knee into your bare bottom half, the friction causing you to whimper into the kiss. Moments later, she pulls away from the kiss briefly and gazes down between you both, inspecting the now dark grey sweatpants for any signs of damage, her mouth slightly agape as she marvels at the sight of your slick that's coated her pants. "You're such a slut," she says in a sultry chuckle, "I can't believe you're this wet for me and I've barely even touched you yet," she breathes out in disbelief.

"I'm your slut, Paige. Touch me," you beg. She slips her fingers inside you, torn between focusing on the way your face contorts in pleasure as she scissors you open or on how effortlessly you accommodate her lengthy digits. She decides on both, using her free hand to push the jersey up before latching onto your nipple and sucking gently, as if she's unsure about how you might respond to the intense pleasure you're experiencing.

She watches you attentively, so beautiful and immersed in pure pleasure, your mouth parted with little gasps falling from your gorgeous lips as Paige presses against the sensitive pad inside your pussy that aligns with your clit on the outside. She ceases sucking. "I want to watch you play with it," she states. You're dazed, out of breath with your head cloudy, and you manage to murmur, "W-what?"

Paige doesn't say anything. She resumes her attention, this time on your left nipple, nibbling gently, and she guides your hand down to your clit with her free hand, assisting you in beginning the circular motions upon it. The stimulation of each pleasure zone on your body has you arching your back, whining out Paige's name in a mantra. "Fuck, P, mmph," you gasp, body on fire, "Please don't stop, mommy, I'm so fucking close." you plead, voice trembling with need. You swear you could hear your heartbeat momentarily, the intensity building to an unbearable crescendo as you teetered on the edge of release. But Paige did say she wouldn't play nice, and she smirks up at you deviously. “Tell P how good she makes you feel,” she commands, her pace slowing to an agonizing speed as she relished in the power dynamic at play. You knew the game she wanted to play; still tinged with the frustration from your earlier encounter where you had taken control.

Too horny to care, you proclaimed, "You make me feel so good, Paige,” voice filled with longing. “I love your fingers so much, yes,” moaning as she gently accelerated, indulging your desires just as you indulged hers: submission, each of you surrendering to the other’s needs, finding pleasure in the delicate balance of power and desire. "Good girl," she praises against your chest. "You're a good fucking slut, right?"

You nodded, "Yours." closing your eyes, unable to keep looking into hers. She looked too good. Paige was fortunate that you were rendered immobile by the overwhelming pleasure coursing through your body. If you could move, you'd pounce on her with an aggressive kiss. Her hair cascades around her shoulders, her glasses still perched on her nose, and that cute appreciative smile she gives you as she nastily, relentlessly fucks her fingers into you sends butterflies swirling in your stomach.

It'd been three months being with Paige and the fact that the golden star of UConn is here, with you, not even an hour after basking in the spotlight of victory, is surreal. She generally was. It was surreal to gaze upon such a stunning girl as you reached the peak of bliss, cries of pleasure mingling with the realization that you were climaxing, hard and long. And through it all, she maintained eye contact, talking you through it, her gaze unwavering. "Cum on my fingers, baby, I want to taste you. I want to see you do it. C'mon," she coaxes, her voice dripping with desire as she urges you on.

You were drowning in her. And soon enough, she was drowning in you, having creamed all over her fingers. Paige pumps thrice more before bringing her fingers to her mouth, her tongue swirling around them as she savored your taste, gaze locking with yours in a dirty exchange of desire. "Tastes as sweet as you are," she remarks, chuckling softly before offering her fingers to you to clean off the rest. "Say ahh," she commands, and you eagerly comply, seeing the benefits of giving into Paige, sticking out your tongue out to allow her to place her fingers into your mouth. "I want them spotless," she demands, her tone filled with authority as you bob your head, licking the remainder of cum off her fingers. "Suck on them," she says, her eyes smoldering with desire as she watches you suscept, eager to fulfill her wishes.

When she's satisfied, she kisses you deeply, her lips igniting a fire within you as you revel in her taste. As she stands up, removing her bottoms, you can't help but admire the sight before yourself. Paige, the girl you were with, had the most exquisite pussy you'd ever seen. You were grateful to be the only girl allowed to experience it, but it truly was a treasure. The harmony and balance of each feature always left you in awe, and you excitedly anticipate the pleasure of eating her out, knowing that it's a demonstration of your complete submission to her. You don't wait. The instant her sweats come off, you yank her by her bra, pulling her onto the bed. There's no time for her to assert dominance as you take control, dropping to your knees below the bed and holding her knees in each hand like they were stirrups.

Her underwear still on, you tease her, licking a stripe against her clothed cunt, tongue flexing at her clit and dampening the spot. "Love this pussy," you groan, voice filled with desire as you used a finger to play against her folds, eliciting a frustrated moan from her. "Stop, Y/N," she pleads, voice scorned with true confliction, torn between the desire to surrender to pleasure and the need to regain control.

"Just wanna hear it once, P," you smirk up at her. "Say please, Number Five." She bites her lip, throwing her head back, causing her glasses to fall off, her bare eyes now locking with yours. It's difficult to maintain your composure under her intense gaze, but you manage, licking another small stripe against her underwear, causing her to jolt. "A-ah, fuck," she moans, trying to close her legs, but you hold them open. "I just wanna make you feel good, Paige, and I can tell you wanna feel good too. Say it."

She exhales, her voice pleading, "Please, Y/N," as she pulls her underwear aside, revealing her glistening pink folds. Your mouth waters. "Can you eat my pussy?" she asks, so politely you wanna kiss her, but you wanna eat her more. She holds her underwear to the side, and you accept the invitation, tongue exploring her wetness with fervor. Her hands flies to your head, something to anchor herself onto as she squirms away from your powerful tongue. You coast her back, however, and suction her clit into her your mouth, moaning into her pussy. Paige isn't a loud girl, but she's having trouble restricting her moans. The scent of her arousal fills the air, driving you wild with desire as you delve deeper, savoring the taste of her essence. As you continue to lavish your attention on her, the intensity of her pleasure builds, her grip on the sheets tightening and knuckles turning white as she writhes beneath you. You feel her body quivering with each flick of your tongue, moans growing louder and more desperate with each passing moment. You spit down onto her, making it sloppy, merely adding as a plus to the rawness of the carnal energy between you two. Her wetness coats your lips and chin, the sound of your movements mingling with her cries of ecstasy. And as you bring her to the brink of release, a tear runs down Paige's face, a testament to the overwhelming intensity of her pleasure. But you don't let up, determined to bring her to the peak of pleasure and beyond. With each lick and suck, you push her closer to the edge, until finally, she shatters beneath me, her body convulsing in waves of bliss as she succumbs to the ecstasy of her climax. The night was far from done. Your jersey was still on, and you still wanted to play.

guys i wrote this because there’s lit no Paige smut on here pls pull thru

Send me req btw!! I’m def considering writing again masterlist

[carajilloplz]

bad habit ✮⋆˙ joost klein

SMUT 18+ MDNI

warnings: smoking, alcohol consumption, w33d (just a little), lots of teasing omg it's ridiculous, making out, oral!fem receiving because joost is a MUNCH, unprotected p in v, choking kind of?, orgasm denial and overstimulation

i am so sorry

Du weißt, dass das eine schlechte Angewohnheit ist, oder? - You know that's a bad habit right?

Hast du Feuer - Got a lighter?

Inside the venue, the music was ridiculously loud. Your friend had dragged you to a show (Ski Aggu? You had no idea, you were just there to support) and it was a good show and pretty solid music, but not exactly what you would listen to on a daily basis. In the end you ended up enjoying it, loving the antics onstage. Your favorite was that one song, probably his most recognizable because you’d heard it out before, where a tall blond guy wearing a full-on dress shirt with a tie and some funky-looking glasses. 

The show was good, and since your friend had run into some acquaintances, you accepted your fate for the night and gestured to her that you were going out for a smoke. You’d had a few drinks already and just wanted to take a break from that and the overly loud music inside. Stepping outside, you took in the Berlin night cold and cursed yourself for only wearing a thin slip dress, at least covered by the oversized leather jacket with a million pockets. Curiously, somebody stepped out of the bar as well and you recognized him as the blond who was onstage earlier for that one song. 

“Du weißt, dass das eine schlechte Angewohnheit ist, oder?” He spoke, teasingly referring to the box of cigarettes in your hand as you rummaged through your pockets for a lighter.

“Hast du Feuer?”

“Yeah, I’ve got one.” he says, reaching in his pocket.

You scoffed, shaking your head at yourself. “Is my german actually that bad?”

The man laughs, exposing a set of very charming dimples and a crinkle in his eye hidden by his wide-rim tinted glasses. “No it’s not, you’re just drunk and very clearly not from here.” He reaches out his hand with the lighter in it, and as you go to grab it he snatches it back, smirking and giving you a challenging look. “And what do I get in return?”

You roll your eyes, reaching into your pocket. “Here, you can bum one off me.” The blond nods appreciatively as he grabs a cigarette from you and proceeds to light his own first. He then reaches out with the lighter to yours, holding it up to light your cigarette and you can feel his gaze on you. There was a significant height difference, so you had to crane your neck up quite a bit to speak to him. 

“Thank you…?” you say, prompting him to share his name, playing dumb because you already knew it. 

“Joost” he replies, exhaling smoke and looking down at you, very obviously devouring you with his eyes. Oh so that’s what he’s playing at. “And you are…?”

Immediately your demeanor changed because, hell, he’s quite hot and seemed pretty fun from what you’d seen of him on stage. Might as well. You told him your name and teasingly started inquiring about his stage presence. 

“So you’re friends with Aggu or something right?”

“Yeah,” he says, taking a drag and leaning his shoulder against the wall, towering over you. “We’ve been pretty tight since we were openers together once.” You nod understandingly, raising your eyebrows in the most subtly patronizing way to keep teasing him. He catches on. “Why, you listen to him?”

“No, not at all actually. My friends dragged me to this show.” you say, matter-of-factly “Lowkey I thought it would be kind of bad but I am pleasantly surprised.”

“Good,” He’s kind of shocked by your bluntness, but clearly intrigued. “What was your favorite song?”

“The one you sang with him.” You reply, finishing off your cigarette and dropping it to the ground and putting it off with your boot. “I’m going back in, you coming?”

Hurriedly, Joost takes a few last drags and follows you inside, lightly putting his hand on the small of your back as you led the way back to your friends.

“There you are, babe!” your friend replies, dropping the conversation she was having with an acquaintance. She leans closer to you, speaking into your ear over the loud music. “I see why you were gone and I’m not gonna get mad because he’s cute.”

You brushed her off with a wink and a laugh and casually turned back to Joost, “This is Joost, Joost this is my friend Lina that dragged me here.”

She waves, “Big fan.” and turns back to her other conversation. Silently you thanked her to yourself for getting the hint. You turn back to Joost, looking up at him and pointing accusingly.

“You owe me a drink for giving you one of my cigs.” you say, teasingly looking up at him with a smirk. You had to play his game, and at this point you felt like he was catching on too.

“Oh do I?” Joost replies, looking down at you challengingly through half lidded eyes and lightly licking his bottom lip. “You’d still have to owe me one back.”

“I can give you a kiss and we’ll be even.”

He nods, biting his cheek and turning to the bartender and signalling for two more of what he was drinking. Your drinks get served and you stand on your tippy toes, hand on his chest to lean into his ear to say ‘thank you’, and as you pull back he leans in but you quickly dodge him with a playful smirk. He’s very clearly into it and going in for the long run, so he followed you when you grabbed his hand and gestured towards the dancefloor. Even if Aggu’s show was over, the venue was still thumping with music.

Swaying your body rhythmically with the beat, Joost’s hands found themselves comfortably settled on your waist, slowly reaching towards your ass and pulling you closer like that. You kept going though, turning around and staying close to his body, making a point of teasingly moving your hips against him, feeling the light graze of his crotch against you.

This set him off the edge and he kept one of his hands firmly on your hip and reached the other to splay his arm across your shoulders in a light headlock to pull you closer. “And when can we get even?” He says into your ear, his voice an almost growl dripping with desire.

You turn around and look him wantonly in the eyes before reaching to give him a kiss. Joost kisses back firmly, leaning down a little to match you and reaching up his hand to cup your jaw. Immediately in that drunken kiss, you tangle your hand into his hair, complimenting the clashing of teeth and the slow roll of Joost’s tongue in your mouth. You continue to kiss, sloppily grabbing at each other, his hand snaking to grab at your neck and you reaching up to snake your arms around his shoulders as he pulled you closer. He suddenly stopped. 

“Liefde, I have to take you home.” Joost pants, cheeks red and flustered from your passionate kiss. “You’re driving me insane.”

You give him a teasing look. “Look at you, all direct. Don’t seem like the type.”

He scoffs, leaning down towards your ear— “If I weren’t direct I wouldn’t be able to tell you that the though of you makes me hard and I want my head between your legs as soon as possible.”

This comment shuts you up completely, shooting a bolt of electricity down your spine and the mere idea of Joost between your legs makes you squirm pleasurably. You nod, looking up to him still slightly in shock.

“Let’s go to mine, I’m two blocks away and I’ve got weed.”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

The walk back home for the two of you was excruciatingly long because you couldn’t keep your hands off of each other. You walked with your hand slipped in the back pocket of Joost’s jeans, and he kept looking down at you as you took another drag from your cigarette. He couldn’t help himself, really, and he pressed you against the nearest wall and gave you a long, deep kiss. You both grabbed at each other as you passionately made out against the wall of some random building on the way to your house. Romantic, huh?

Somehow, you made to your apartment and you discarded your leather jacket at the entrance. This left you in a very thin, almost transparent silk slip that gave Joost a perfect view of the outline of your body behind you, the dress almost translucent because of the light. 

You plopped onto your couch, reaching for the bong on your coffee table as Joost sat next to you. Taking one or two hits, you passed it onto him as you analyzed his face in a different light than where you were before. His eyes were a dashing color blue and his blonde hair was the just right amount of tousled, falling onto his defined face perfectly.

He didn’t finish putting the bong down on your coffee table before you straddled him, looking onto his eyes, almost level to you because of his height, and gave him a profound kiss. His large hands settled on your ass, encouraging you to move your hips backwards and forwards, prompting him to grind back up into you. You continued like this for a while, tongues clashing and hands grabbing at each other, clouded by the substances running through your systems. You worked on loosening his tie and unbuttoning his shirt as you continued your kiss, pushing it down and off his body. Joost thought you looked positively angelic as you pulled away, connected still to him with a string of saliva and focusing on rubbing your tangibly wet pussy on his hard crotch. 

Suddenly Joost grabs you from above him and turns you around to lay you on the couch, immediately putting his weight on you and passionately continued your kiss. You felt his bulge on you, hard from all the anticipation and teasing you even more as he continued to slip his tongue in your mouth. He snakes his hand down your side, rreaching down to your thigh and grabbing all over it, clearly enjoying the plush of your soft skin. Slowly, he begins reaching up towards your slip, moving it up slightly so you are more exposed.

“No underwear?” He asks through your kisses, snickering as you whine slightly because of the subjection he’s putting you in. Joost continues, smoothly and teasingly moving his hand on your waist, moving down to your leg, wrapped around him, and reaching up to your ass and giving it a slap. This sends a jolt through your body, extremely turned on but surprised at his harshness. You let out a moan and pulled him even closer. 

“You liked that?” You moan in approval as he begins moving his hand between your thighs and breaks the kiss to start kissing your neck. Joost was literally leaving you speechles with his touches, making you a writhing, whining mess under him. He brings you up towards him to slip the straps of your dress down your shoulders and begins kissing down your chest, making you whine as he starts going lower and lower. Bringing his hand towards your pussy, he slowly traces his fingers up your slick folds until he gets to your clit. He starts to draw small circles with his thumb on the bundle of nerves, sending shocks through your body and making your back arch, bringing you closer to him. 

As he continues to teasingly and painfully slowly move lower, you tangle your hands in his messy blonde hair. He finally reaches your throbbing pussy, but not even making a single movement that would indicate he would do anything yet with it, focusing on kissing your thighs.

“Fuck Joost, please do something” you moan, arching your back and expecting him to do something, but he just stops his kisses and puts more pressure on your clit. At this rate, you felt like you were coming closer and closer without him doing that much purely from the teasing.

“What was that, baby? I couldn’t hear you.”

“Please eat me out Joost, stop being such a fucking tease.” You reply through another moan, pulling at his hair to get closer.

“Ask nicely and I’ll do it.” He replies, menacingly pressing his thumb even more and looking up at you expectantly. “I want you to beg.”

That alone sent you into a moaning mess, immediately submitting to his touch. “Joost please please eat me out, I need you. Please do something, I can’t stand it.”

He instantly puts his lips to your pussy, lapping at your clit and putting one, two fingers in, hitting just the right spot, making you whimper out when combined with the feeling on your clit. Joost was clearly enjoying himself down there, running his tongue in all the right places and pumping his fingers in and out of you at a rough but pleasurable pace. You felt the familiar build of pressure in you, heightening your sensitivity to every touch and lick. 

“Fuck Joost keep going please” You moan, pulling at his hair and trying to keep your legs from shaking. “I’m gonna come.”

He immediately takes his mouth off of your pussy and climbs back up to your level, leaving you confused  and overstimulated from the lack of touch. He brings his hand up to your neck and grabs you by your jaw to look directly at him.

“You don’t cum until I say so.”

Joost quickly reaches down to unbuckle his belt as he continues kissing you. He was impossibly hard, and you helped him unbutton his jeans and reaching down to palm him through his underwear. He immediately let out a moan of relief at the loss of pressure when he pushed off his jeans, grinding into your hand as you both moaned at the buildup of anticipation. You were still put off from your orgasm and he was ready to shamelessly start fucking you, so you were both clearly on the same page when you reached down to pull down his underwear and release his hard cock. He was huge, you could feel it from making out earlier but seeing it at it’s full length you felt scared but also extremely turned on.

Through moans and clawing at each other, he grabbed his cock and quickly found his way towards your entrance, nudging the head of his cock and rubbing it against your hole.

“Tell me if you can’t take it,” he pants, and you were flattered by the concern but you knew better.

“Just put it in Joost, I need you inside of me.”

This set him off. He instantly started pushing himself inside you with a groan, bottoming out easily because of how wet you are. Joost looked at you to see if you were okay, and continued once you let out a moan and looked up at him. He moved at a painfully slow but strong pace in the beginning as you adjusted to his size, and once you started bringing him closer, he sped up his pace. 

Both of you a mess of moans and groans, you continued to angle yourself towards his pounding thrusts, making him groan more as you started clawing at his back. You felt a mix of pain and pleasure as you felt his length inside you, building up the pressure in your belly once more, this time more intensely. He was bottoming out completely with each thrust now, letting out garbled curses in Dutch and pounding into you as you moaned out. 

“Joost, please can I come.”

“Yes you can schatje, come for me.”

Instantly, you gushed all over his cock, arching your back and seeing stars. You stayed in that state for a minute, relieved from the overstimulation, but he didn’t stop his thrusts. 

“I want you to come again, baby. C’mon get on top” he says, bringing you up as he sat up on the couch. Although you were blissed out from your orgasm, you still couldn’t help but be entranced by his orders, so you gave him a kiss as you straddled him, sinking onto his cock with a whimper. He was the one that continued the pace, hands on your ass, moving your hips back and forth and getting himself off with you. 

You were a mess at this point-- your hair was all tangled and you were a flustered mess full of scratches and one or two hickeys, just like him. He placed a firm slap on your ass, which made your dripping cunt clench around him and made him let out a loud groan as he thrust up against you again. 

“Fuck schatje you feel so good on me.” he groans, continuing to bounce you up and down. Joost loved the way you looked on top of him, a flustered, moaning mess that did everything to reach that second orgasm that he felt was close for you. That pleasurable pressure was growing in you again, and your overstimulation was driving you crazy. You loved the feeling of Joost’s cock inside of you, and in this position it was just hitting the right spot every time.

Joost eventually got sloppier, and started moaning harder, groaning your name hotly in your ear, which combined with his hands on you drove you closer and closer towards your orgasm. 

“Can I come inside you?” he asks, “I’m close liefde, fuck.” You moan at the mere thought.

“Please come inside me Joost I’m so close.” You moan, intensifying your movements for a moment, Joost moving your hips harder, which set you off into a mess of gasps and whimpers, leaving you without air as you felt the flash of your second orgasm. 

Your orgasm set off Joost too, coming at the feeling of your pussy clenching around him, and with a deep groan of your name, spilled inside of you. The both of you stayed there for a moment, panting as he leant his head against the back of the couch looking up at you. You looked divine, a blushing, blissed out mess and he was sure he wanted to have that view again. You leant against him, slumping back and putting your head on your shoulder. 

Peppering kisses along your shoulder, he sighed. “Fuck smoking, I don’t know how I’m going to quit you now. ”

˗ˏˋ ★ ˎˊ˗

a/n: thank you for coming to my tedtalk. i needed to get that out of my system. i'm like speechless at myself because of how horny this is.

[twobluejeans]

HEARTBREAK ON TOUR!

charles leclerc x famous!reader

summary: in which the lavender haze has been lifted. or in which america’s it couple splits.

part 2: wtf does ET know?, part 1: don’t start

faceclaim: madison beer

ally’s radio 📻: PART 2! thank u guys so much for the love on part 1, blew up overnight n i’m so so grateful. a lot of tswift references 🫶

INSTAGRAM, (june 28)

liked by zendayaobsessed, laformula1_, and 324,197 others

popcrave this news is breaking us like a promise😭#Y/nL/n and #CharlesLeclerc have broken up after 6 years of dating, ET reports.

Their breakup was reportedly "amicable" and happened a few weeks ago:

"It was not dramatic. The relationship had just run its course. It's why [Leclerc] hasn't been spotted at any shows."

View all 22 comments

whatisthatmelody delete this can’t be real i’m shaking

f1obsessed I THOUGHT THEY WERE GETTING MARRIED DA FAQ

greatwarleclerc april fools was like 3 months ago not funny 😀

selenagom3z omg new album coming 😍

dangerouswomanera keep pete davidson locked up for the next few weeks i’m so serious

sainzlandoo oh yk twitters gonna have a field day

TWITTER, (june 28)

INSTAGRAM, (june 29)

liked by softwags, hamiltonleclerc16, and 84,345 others

y/nflorals Y/N SEEN FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE THE SPLIT ENTERING A RECORDING STUDIO IN LONDON TODAY via twoghostsy/n

View all 18 comments

lovingwags that next album gonna be fire istg

runway/n she looks like she’s been crying my poor bby 🙁

cowboyrry whyd i stutter reading the caption

y/nseuphoria wait i thought she was on tour?

y/nsflorals she is but she’s on a 4 day break!!

INSTAGRAM, (stories)

yourinstagram 25m

viewed by alexademie, dualipa, carlossainz55, and 345,782 others

TWITTER,

INSTAGRAM, (june 29)

liked by kiwistyles, ryangoslingml, and 103,543 others

dailymail #Y/nL/n caught in a heated argument with #CharlesLeclerc out side a restaurant, june 28. This footage was a day before ET announced their split.

View all 66 comments

softwags this is so wrong delete this

reputationera_y/n wth?? take this down this is such an invasion of privacy omg

steveharringtonmybeloved what.

f1obsessed well…shit💀

TWITTER,

ally’s radio 📻: so…FREE Y/N!! this was sm fun to write. dw, it only gets more dramatic from here 😌. ALSO I WAS THINKING…should we make y/n a nepo baby or not? if so, who should be mamá y papá? reblogs n like r so appreciated 🤍

taglist🦢🪩: @incoherenciass @dakotali @405rry @topaz125 @sassyheroneckgiant @hevburn @itsmytimetoodream @ivegotparticulartaste @crowdedimagines

[yuutx]

ೀ ׅ ۫ . 𝐍𝐎 𝐒𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐀𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃, 𝐇𝐔𝐇 ? (𝐹𝒰𝒮𝐻𝐼𝒢𝒰𝑅𝒪 𝒯𝒪𝒥𝐼)

fwb! fushiguro toji x f!reader ﾉ 18+ content. ﾉ nsfw + unprotected sex ﾉ raw sex ﾉ friends with benefits -> more ﾉ confessing during sex ﾉ slight self deprecation + insecurity on toji's side ﾉ marking ﾉ rough sex ﾉ choking kink ﾉ clit play ﾉ degrading kink ﾉ praise kink ﾉ size kinkﾉ creampie ﾉ mdom + fsub ﾉ not proofread ! ໒꒰♡◞ ˕ ก꒱১

'nother . . 'nother toji fic . um i swear i dnt even liek him dat much ! ! 's jus sumetimes he gives mi da feels so . . eheh ! art credits go to @/sso_s__ on twitter ♡ + ↻ are rlly appreciated ! !

Your mind was in a haze, a lustful fog clouding your senses, the smell of sex heavy in the air, sweat slipping down your temples. Your chest heaved, your breasts pressed up against Toji's firm pecs, the smooth, hard muscles a stark contrast to the softness of your tits. You shifted, your knees pressing into the mattress, the thick, veiny cock inside you twitching with raw need, the flared head brushing against your cervix, making you gasp. "Mm, such a good little slut, yer awful tight.." Toji's voice rasped, his lips brushing against your ear, his pants hot and heavy against the delicate skin. His large, calloused hands gripped your hips, his fingertips digging into the flesh, sure to leave bruises, the marks serving as proof of his ownership. You shivered, goosebumps spreading across your arms, the praise making your heart skip a beat. You were always a sucker for his dirty talk, the filthy words leaving him making you burn with lust, a fire sparking in the pit of your stomach. He nipped at your neck, his sharp canines grazing over your pulse, his hot tongue soothing the bite, lapping up the beads of sweat. "Ah-ahhh, o-oh, f-fuck, To-ji-iii..!!" You whined, wriggling your hips, a desperate attempt to create more friction, to feel him deeper inside you. "T-Toji, P-Ple-e-ease, To-ji.." You babbled, the words pouring from you without any filter, your thoughts a jumbled mess, a string of incomprehensible moans and mewls leaving you.

You were a wreck, a blubbering, quivering, needy, mess. Toji never failed to make you lose all control, to strip away your inhibitions, rendering you into a puddle of desire. His lips and teeth continued to work at your neck, his hips snapping, powerful thrusts jolting your whole body. Your nails dug into his shoulders, a squeal escaping you when his thumb swiped over your clit, rubbing tight circles over the tiny nub, his skilled fingers bringing you closer and closer to the edge. "To-Toji, m'g-gonna cum.." You warned, your walls clenching around him, the tension mounting, your body tensing, your muscles stiffening. You were in an intense state of pleasure, a mix of pain and bliss, a euphoric rush making your head spin. Your senses were heightened, the smallest touch enough to push you over the brink, the slightest brush against your clit setting you off. Your legs were shaky, your body weak, trembling. It was getting harder and harder to keep yourself upright, your thighs aching, burning. "Hah, is that right, baby girl? Ya gonna cum f' me?" Toji rasped, the sound sending sparks up your spine, a whimper tumbling from you. "C'mon, say it. What're ya, hm? Say it, baby. Tell me.." He coaxed, his movements speeding up, his thrusts rougher, harder, deeper. He was fucking you with wild abandon, the primal need for release driving him to the edge. "I-I'm y-your s-slut-t, Toji.." You cried, tears of pleasure pooling in the corners of your eyes. "Yer Toji's what?" A grunt left him, his cock twitching inside you. "Say it. Say. It. Now." His tone was harsh, his words firm, an order.

"I-I'm y-your s-sl-ut.." You mewled, his hand wrapping around your throat, his grip tightening, making it harder to breathe. "Y-your c-cock s-s-lut.." You squeaked, a choked sob spilling from you, drool trickling from the corner of your mouth, the wet, sticky substance running down your chin. "Damn fuckin' right.." He growled, his free hand moving from your clit to grab the underside of your thigh, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, your leg resting on his shoulder. Toji pushed himself deeper inside you, burying his cock in the velvety heat, his thrusts becoming frantic, desperate, his movements erratic. He was losing his composure, his breathing growing more and more ragged, his groans and grunts coming in shorter intervals. His pace was brutal, his grip on you almost painful, the strength in his fingers making your head spin. Your sweet, high-pitched noises were driving him insane, his blood boiling, the heat in his gut burning him from the inside out.

His hand tightened around your neck, grasping the column of flesh, his thumb and middle finger pressing into the sides of your throat, the pressure enough to make you dizzy. A moan spilled from him, his hot breath fanning over your cheek, the air brushing over your damp skin, a chill running up your spine. He pressed his forehead against yours, his emerald eyes meeting your own. Your gaze was glazed over, your irises dilated, the thin ring of color around your pupils barely visible. The look in his eyes was downright animalistic, his pupils blown, his eyelids hooded, his gaze burning with hunger. "To-toji.." You choked out, his grip on you loosening slightly, allowing you to get a bit of air. You sucked in a sharp breath, swallowing hard, forcing the lump in your throat down. "C-cum.. m'g-onna c-cum..! O-oh, fuck i-it feels s-so g-good, so, so g-go-ood-d-d..!" You wailed, a sob racking through your body. "C'mon, princess, be a good girl f' me, yeah?" He panted, his breath fanning over your lips. "Be a good girl and cum f' me. Show me how much ya love this dick.." He drawled, his tone low, the sound going straight to your core. Your back arched, a sharp, desperate cry leaving you, a gush of slick drenching Toji's cock, your walls fluttering around him. You came undone, your climax hitting you like a freight train, the intensity making you scream. "M-mm-mh! O-oh, fuck! Oh, fuck, l-love you, To-ji, love you so much-t-t..!" You babbled, the confession spilling from you. You didn't register what you'd said, the words flowing freely, a string of incoherent praises leaving you.

You were floating on a high, a blissful, euphoric feeling washing over you, your whole body buzzing. "F-fuck, baby girl, s' that right? Love me, hm? S' that why ya keep comin' back, yeah? S' that why ya keep lettin' me use this pretty little pussy of yers?" He teased, moans and groans of pleasure leaving him. "S' that why yer always so ready, so wet, so fuckin' perfect? Fuck, I knew ya loved this cock, but I didn't think ya'd love me.." He let out a breathless chuckle, his grip on your throat loosening, his fingers caressing the tender flesh, tracing patterns on your heated skin. His hips didn't falter, his thrusts never slowing, his stamina seemingly endless. He was determined to drag out your high, to keep you in a state of perpetual pleasure. Your chest was heaving, your body twitching, your limbs quaking, the waves of ecstasy making your body tremble. Your eyes fluttered shut, your head tilting back, a gasp tumbling from you. "Say it again." Toji ordered, a command, his voice firm, the demand leaving no room for debate. "Look at me. Open those pretty little eyes and say it. Tell me." He was desperate, the need to hear you say it again overpowering. It may not have seemed like it, but he needed the reassurance, the confirmation. He hadn't been told he was loved in years. Hearing the words spill from you had brought forth a slew of emotions he hadn't felt in ages.

You pried your eyes open, a smog stare meeting his own. Your cheeks were flushed, the pretty pink color painting your skin, the blush making you look all the more ethereal. You opened your mouth, a shaky exhale leaving you. "I l-love you, To-Toji.." You stammered, a yelp slipping past your lips, the sound in sync with his loud groan. Your body jolted, the sensation of warmth filling you to the brim making you whine. Toji's cock pulsated inside of you, ropes of pearly white seed coating your inner walls, painting them a milky shade. "F-fuck, baby- pussy's so good, s' so tight- shit, ya got me cummin' in ya, yeah? Feel that, hm? That's yer reward f' bein' such a good girl." He purred, his cock still throbbing, the twitching member sensitive. "Fuckin' hell.." He breathed, his grip on you finally loosening. He slipped his hands down to your hips, his fingers splayed across your back, the calloused pads brushing against your soft skin. "…Say it again." He requested, his tone quiet, softer. You were exhausted, a pleasant haze clouding your thoughts. "I-I l-love.. love yo-ou.." You mumbled, the words tumbling from you without much thought. The admission was sincere, a truth. You did love him. You hadn't meant to say it, but you'd meant it. The words had slipped out, a spur of the moment thing, a consequence of the haze. "…Yeah?" He questioned, his voice a low whisper, barely audible. You hummed, a sleepy noise, the sound muffled by the way you were pressed up against him.

"Makin' my heart flutter, fuck me.." He muttered, the words more to himself than to you. "Love ya too though, baby girl." He chuckled, his arms wrapping around you, pulling you closer. "Fuckin' crazy, hm? Fell f' ya, fuckin' hell. Thought it was no strings attached. Thought we were just fuck buddies. Was wrong, obviously. Should've known better. Should've known that pretty face of yers would drive me insane." He shook his head, the movement ruffling your hair, the soft strands tickling his skin.

"Can't believe ya love this ugly mug. Ya really do like a bad boy, huh?" He smirked, his lips quirking into a crooked grin. "S' okay, though. Ya got me f' life. Gonna take real good care of ya, yeah? Gonna treat ya right, princess. S' gonna be me an' ya f'ever." He assured, his hands stroking your back. "S' long as ya love me. I'm all yers. Gonna protect ya, promise."

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling the scent of cigarettes and cologne, basking in the feeling of having his arms wrapped around you, his cock softening inside you. You were spent, the post-sex bliss washing over you, the feeling of security and safety making you melt. "Rest up, yeah? Gotta recharge. We've got the whole night ahead of us, after all. Gotta give that little pussy a break before I ruin it again, don't I?"

[auggieblogs]

Secret Santa | f1 grid Instagram au

f1 grid x driver! reader

* ੈ✩‧₊˚ doing their first secret santa segment with the grid

Author's note: Hello, loves. Hope you all are doing good. Now that the Secret Santa video is out I can finally upload this fic. This didn't turn out the way I wanted it to, I was expecting it to be better but that's okay. I'm going to serve with my next fic, promise. Happy reading, everyone:))

―୨୧⋆ ˚masterlist

The winter air was filled with festive cheer as the Formula 1 paddock prepared for its annual Secret Santa exchange. As a rookie, it was your first time participating in this heartwarming tradition and you were excited, to say the least. The camera crew followed you, capturing every moment leading up to the big reveal of your Christmas gift.

The media team had already hinted that your gift was something extraordinary, a collective effort from the entire grid. The box was larger than expected, and you could feel the curiosity building up.

Lifting the lid, you were met with an array of dog toys, dog clothes, and even some dog food. A chuckle escaped your lips as you examined the peculiar assortment. "Interesting," you remarked, holding up a tiny doggie shirt to the camera. "I doubt that's going to fit me, but I really appreciate the thought, everyone."

Laughter echoed around you, and you took the lighthearted gift in stride, knowing the Secret Santa segment was known for its humorous nature.

Behind the scenes, someone from the camera crew spoke up, letting you know that this was only half of your present. Perplexed, you turned toward the camera, curiosity etched across your face. Then, from behind you, emerged a crew member carrying a small, fluffy golden retriever puppy in his arms.

Your eyes widened in disbelief, and a hushed "no, no, no" escaped your lips as you connected the dots. The reality sunk in, and you moved back, your hand covering your mouth in sheer disbelief. "Say sike right now," you pleaded, almost unable to comprehend what was in front of you. The response was a firm denial, confirming that the puppy was indeed your Secret Santa gift from the entire grid.

You gingerly accepted the puppy into your arms, cradling it close to your chest. "Oh, you're so small," you cooed, a mixture of laughter and happy tears streaming down your face. The puppy reciprocated with wet kisses, and you couldn't help but snuggle into the warmth of this unexpected gift.

As you revel in the joy of the moment, a voice from behind the camera interrupted, "Do you like your gift?" You nodded vigorously, still cradling the puppy in your arms. "I love him so, so much," you replied, sniffling.

Finally, you noticed a note nestled among the dog toys. With the puppy still in your arms, you delicately unfolded the note, "Happy Christmas, Y/N. You are collectively everyone's favourite on the grid. Hope you like the puppy, he's just like you," the note read and was signed by all the drivers.

Tears continued to stream down your cheeks as you looked into the camera. "Thank you, everyone. I love all of you. This is the best Christmas ever." You lifted the puppy so that he could face the camera too, and the collective "awws" echoed around the paddock.

The person behind the camera couldn't resist asking, "What are you going to name him?" You pondered for a moment before deciding, "He looks like a Lenny, no?"

≡;- ꒰ °instagram ꒱

yourusername

liked by f1, landonorris and 287,120 others

yourusername Lenny SnoopDawg Y/L in da house😎

comments:

username lmao he's so silly

username kissies on da face!!!!

username can't believe the drivers gifted a golden retriever, an actual golden retriever smh

landonorris I CALL GODFATHER

charles_leclerc Uh back the fuck up. I am the godfather

landonorris You didn't call it though, snoozers losers😘

logansargeant Sorry to break it to you guys but Y/N said her favourite gets to be the godfather, so it's actually me

oscarpiastri Mate, do you ever get tired of being wrong? I'm obviously her favourite

landonorris sources: trust me bro

carlossainz55 I just feel like someone who's actually experienced with dogs should get to be the godfather

mickschumacher So you mean, me? Awh Carlos, thank you

carlossainz55 No.

landonorris I'm real experienced with dogs

yourusername yes, we all remember Uno

albon_pets not to be bias or anything but @alex_albon is great with pets

charles_leclerc That is in fact very bias

albon_pets we are not talking to you dude😠

maxverstappen1 Can I be the father?

logansargeant PAUSE

georgerussell63 Hold up, HOLD THE FUCK UP

yourusername I-is that a flirtation?????

username what the dog doin

username bet lenny is a better driver than me

f1 You should never let your dog drive a car. Soon they'll get better than you and start competing in formula 1😟

username LMAOOO ADMIN PLEASEEEEE

username happened to my buddy eric once

roscoelovescoco IS THAT WHY I'M NOT ALLOWED TO DRIVE ANYMORE?

oscarpiastri that's my car he's driving btw

username Lenny is the goddest boy☹️