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lavender-girlfriend-88 · 3 days ago

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Future Lover - Chapter 2- Jason Todd x Reader

Synopsis: Trying to make it in Gotham, you are dragged clawing and screaming into a time travel mess with a man who claims to be your future husband.

Author’s Note: still messing around with the formatting of these posts, please bear with me! I've seen a lot of authors on here who have such amazing aesthetics, tryna figure mine out lol

So this fic was actually inspired by this post, by @cipheress-to-k-pop.

Thank you so much for your awesome writing and support :)))). Please go check them out!

And thank you to everyone who liked/reblogged/commented on my last post, it means a whole lot. I'm planning on expanding this into a whole chaptered work, so watch this space!

Also, in this chapter I had to write a fight scene, which I've never done before, so please bear with me <:)

Content: Blood, mention of injuries, violence. nothing too gore-y though.

Word Count: 2.7k

No Grammarly we die like men

The tunnel was cold, dark, and loud. The echoes of a battle commenced, requests for support, and slang that you couldn't understand, let alone fully hear, echoed through the eight-lane tunnel. You could barely see a thing, but you could feel the man holding you. His chest was heaving; he’d clearly been running and exerting himself. His breath was warm, and his armour cold. A thin sheen of sweat coated his face, and he licked the sweat from above his top lip.

He grinned, almost stupidly, at you, before gently putting you on the ground. His bright eyes, one blue, and one bright green, stared down at you, with an unreadable but almost elated expression, before he pulls you aside to hide you both behind a small sedan. It was then you realised your mouth was agape. You quickly closed it.

“Hey, so, here’s the plan. You’re gonna have to wait here, and I’m gonna deal with these guys, and then I’ll explain everything, okay? Take you somewhere real nice, okay, ma?” His voice is low and mature, and a little bit husky, but he speaks to you with a boyish familiarity. A tone that confuses the hell out of you.

You just stare at him, wide eyed like an owl. No words leave your mouth, which has again fallen open. He stared back with a soft lopsided grin, panting. His hand reaches up to click his muzzle on, goggles attached, and when you look into his eyes again they are obscured by white lenses. He speaks again, his voice different under the mask.

“Hah. Yeah, okay. I’ll see you real soon, okay?”

And just like that, he was gone. And you were left staring at the concrete where he had crouched in front of you just seconds ago.

What the hell?

Your impending mental spiral is interrupted by a jarring screech somewhere to your left, but the car blocks your view. Not even thinking to mentally prepare yourself, you peer over the red sedan, and your eyes catch another car, skidding along the road of the tunnel, sending sparks flying.

In front of you, the scene is chaos. The man who caught you, nowhere to be seen amidst the darkness. But you can see some familiar symbols. Red Robin, perched atop a white van that has toppled to its side, holds his hand to his ear and seems to be contacting someone.

You catch a glimpse of the deep plum cloak of Spoiler, as she flips and ducks, perfectly dodging some incoming arrows. Those arrows, where are they coming from? It’s hard to tell, as the shooter seems obstructed from your view behind another car, and it’s even harder to tell when Red Robin tosses in a smoke bomb, right into the middle of it all.

You blink and cough slightly, your eyes and throat burning slightly from the smoke, but you remain glued to the hood of the car, by the right front wheel; your front row seat to all the action. Your eyes dart to the right, seeing the opportunity to leave, sprint to the tunnel’s bright exit, but you hesitate. The man who caught you told you to stay put. You should, right? I mean, he’s a trained hero, he knows what he’s doing.

But as the smoke continues to billow out, and the sounds of violence continue, your resolve to stay falters. You make one last glance back at the battlefield, then run, low and fast, to hide behind a car nearer to the exit.

You trip and stumble, your kitten heels catching on the rough concrete, and careen forward, nearly faceplanting on the ground. The road shreds your knees and hands, tearing through the fabric of your pants, and you hiss and cry out in pain.

Fuck! I’m in the open, I gotta keep going!

You hobble to rest behind the car in front of you, and take a deep breath, trying to steel your nerves. Always so damn uncoordinated. Then you get back onto your feet, and carry on with your escape.

Keeping low and trying to stay calm, you cast glances backwards to make sure there aren’t any arrows or flying cars heading in your direction, and go again, this time to a smaller green hatchback.

Huffing, you’re already a little out of breath and you lean up against the car, trying to catch your breath a little. Man, I have gotta cut down on the smokes after this is all over.

FFSSHHHH-VUMP!

Your head shoots up, towards the sound of an impact into the tunnel wall a few feet behind you. It’s a batarang, lodged into the side of an arrow, piercing the concrete, and glueing the two to the wall. But you can see a small light from the head of the arrow, pulsing, faster and faster. Your eyes bulge and your heart lunges, beating so hard against your ribcage you feel like a human drum. Instinct takes over, and faster than your brain can comprehend, you’ve tucked into yourself and have wrapped your arms around your head. Squeezing your eyes shut, you brace for impact, vibrating like a mouse’s heartbeat.

“Oh, shit, shit, shit! Stay down!”

You feel the crash of another body into yours, arms wrapping tightly atop your head, kevlar plate pressed against your back-

BOOM!!

Heat envelops you, and your hair whips around your face wildly, like a thousand tiny thorned whips. Your skin burns slightly. As quickly as it started, its over. And then, a loud high pitched whining, and the feeling of… stuff, on your face. You open both eyes, and everything feels tight and loud. Your scraped and bleeding knees are pulled up to your chest, and you can see the bright green paint of the car your cower next to, and the wheel. Your breathing, rapid and pulsing, becomes your main focus, and you try to slow it down. I think I survived that…

You feel the body behind you stir, too. Large arms turn you around to face a broad chest, and you can hear muffled speaking, though it’s inaudible, under the loud white noise that now invades your head. Hands brush along your face, and you feel the grainy dust get swept away under gloved hands.

“-light……-ay here, okay?.....-ay…. Hey! -an you hear me? Hey!”

You look up at him, blinking the dust and debris from your eyes, but you don’t respond. It’s the same guy as before…. Red muzzle, white lenses, red hood. He’s looking at you, his hands placed on your shoulders, crouched between you and the blast. Your back rests against the side of the car, and you tilt your head back, sharp knives of pain shooting through your skull. It feels like someone has popped a balloon inside your head.

At least the white noise is subsiding.

“Hey! Focus up! I need you to stay with me, okay?”. Red Hood declares to you again, his voice slightly muffled by the mask, but audible all the same.

His voice is different this time. Still deep, and a bit gravelly, but less so than before. He sounds almost... younger?

“I’m here, okay. I can hear you”, you confirm, nodding softly, scrunching your face up in an effort to combat the headache you know is coming.

“Okay, good. Thought we had a bigger problem there, tha’s good.” He replies, shoulders relaxing just a touch. “We’re gonna need to get you outta here, okay? So you’re coming with me.”

You look up at him with furrowed brows, confused once again.

“But you said to stay put?”

He looks down at you, and behind the mask you can see his confusion.

“No, I didn’t-” He sighs, exasperated. “We don’t have time for this.”

He grabs you by the arms and hoists you to your feet, and now the both of you are standing, bent slightly to hide behind the hatchback. Your legs tremble like a newborn deer, and you look down to lightly brush some gravel out of your scraped and bleeding palms.

He peers over the hood of the car, to observe the battle ahead of you, and you follow suit. Spoiler and Red Robin hunch behind a flipped car, Spoiler holding onto Red Robin’s side. He’s bleeding.

A flash of electric blue, and you see Nightwing, with Robin in tow, running full pelt at a young man. He stands, chest puffed out, wearing dark combat clothes and hoisting a taught bow, firing multiple rapid-fire arrows that explode around Nightwing and Robin’s feet. But they’re too nimble, and he is forced to use his bow to parry Nightwings sticks.

Robin, meanwhile, is busy dodging a motorcycle that is hurled towards him. A few feet from him stands a young woman, with glowing blue eyes. Her hands are outstretched, clutching the air, and you can see now that she’s got some sort of superpower. She grunts and shrieks, but you can’t quite make out what she says.

You turn to face Red Hood, who observes the scene with a heaving chest.

“W-what do we do?” You ask, still a bit dizzy.

He turns to face you. From this angle, the way he towers over you, he looks a bit like a rabid dog, or a wolf. His mask lenses are bleach white, and the muzzle bloody red. His hood, draped over his crown, barely covers his sweat-drenched hair, which sticks to his forehead.

“We’re gonna run, alright? I’m gonna get’chu to the mouth of the tunnel, then you’re gonna keep running, got it?”

You barely even get the chance to react, before you notice the hatchback being lifted into the air. The shiny green car levitates towards the ceiling of the tunnel, and for a moment everything slows down.

A young woman’s voice rings out.

“Guess I’m gonna have to kill your girl again, Hood!”

It’s not taunting, more reverent and threatening than anything, and it’s followed by a howling response from a man.

“Don’t you fucking dare, Ophidia!”

And your eyes track the voice. The first, from the young woman you saw deflecting Robin before. She’s closer to you now, and you can see her more clearly now. She’s young, younger than you, and lanky like a teenager. She’s frighteningly skinny, with pale blonde hair and even paler skin. Her eyes, glazed like pools of milk, stare at you and Red Hood, and the 1.5 ton car that floats above the two of you, with a look that can only be described as entranced, like she’s witnessing something holy.

The second voice rings out again.

“Get her away! Now!”

That voice, familiar in a way, comes from the man who caught you from your fall before. Red Hood. His familiar worn red muzzle and white-lensed mask adorn his face, but you can hear the panic and tension in his voice. His command is for Red Hood, who stands beside you. The man continues running towards Ophidia, guns drawn, and every muscle in his body seems driven to overpower and disarm the deranged young woman.

WHOOSH!

The car comes hurtling down, and in a split second the Red Hood beside you has pulled you away and down, and you’ve crash-landed onto his chestplate, adorned with the signature red bat-symbol.

CRUNCH!

The green hatchback is no more.

Glass and metal shatter around you, but you feel his gloved hands covering your head as he tucks and curls you behind him. Two-for-zero on the amount of times Red Hood has shielded me with his body in the past five minutes. God, I just wanna go home.

A shard of glass nicks your ear and you can move under the weight of Red Hood’s arms. But you don’t have to, because in a split second he’s scooped you up into his arms and is running full pelt towards the exit of the tunnel, only to screech to a halt as another car comes crashing down in front of his path. He whips his neck around, desperately trying to get you out of this. Your arms tighten around his neck.

“Shit, shit, shit.”

But you hear the whistling, whipping sound of fabric, and the both of you look towards the sound.

Batman.

Oh, thank fuck.

Perched atop an SUV that has somehow managed to stay on all four wheels, he blends well with the shrouded darkness of the tunnel. But you can see his lenses, white ovals poking from underneath the cowl, as he squints at the adversaries his team faces.

“B!” Red Hood, the one who has you in his arms, calls out. His chest puffs out, in confidence and relief.

Batman looks over to us, nods solemnly, then launches himself towards the girl. From your position in Red Hood's arms, you watch as he completely overwhelms her in a flurry of tactical manoeuvres, all whilst dodging arrows from her counterpart. Supported by Nightwing, and Robin, the two of them are pushed further and further back, until the young man cries out.

“Ophidia, retreat!”

The response that comes is harsh and whiny.

“Felix, I’m not gonna-”

“Ophidia, we’re not gonna win this, we gotta go!”

She growls, then, like she’s pulling out the last trick she knows, reaches her hands to the ceiling, fingers crooked like claws. The concrete ceiling of the tunnel collapses, creating an explosion of rubble and pale dust that fills the air. You tuck your head into Red Hood’s chest, shielding yourself from the noise and debris. The dust settles quickly, and the two are gone.

Red Hood puts you gently on the ground, then breathes deeply. He looks down at you, a hand still on your back, steadying you.

“You alright?”

You look back up at him, blinking, and still in a bit of shock. You nod, slowly.

“Yeah, yeah. I think I’m okay.”

A figure comes running towards you, and you have to make a double take. He’s… wearing the exact same outfit as the Red Hood that stands beside you.

“Hey, sweetheart, you alright?” He pants out as he reaches you, and you have to glance between him and the hero that stands to your left, hand still placed on your back. It’s a bit disconcerting to be asked the same question…. twice.

The Red Hood beside you is the first to speak.

“Hey man, thanks for your help back there, but we’re not looking for copycats. So, kindly fuck off.”

The Red Hood in front of you, chuckles beneath the mask.

But before he can respond, Batman’s footsteps approach the three of you.

“Someone needs to explain this situation to me right now.” He states, gruffly. His voice, smooth in its commanding presence, brings a mixture of fear and awe to your chest. You stare at the looming Bat in front of you with wide eyes. Your mouth refuses to speak in such a presence. For some reason I feel like I’m in trouble.

The Red Hood next to you pipes up again. With a tone that tells you he’s totally and utterly done, he addresses Batman.

“It’s nothin’ serious, B, just another fanboy. I’ll sort him out.”

“HAH! Fanboy? You wish, squirt.” The other Red Hood quips back, clearly smiling beneath the mask. Before anyone can respond, he flicks back the hood, and removes the mask from his face with one hand, letting it hang against his chest. It’s the man that caught you from your leap from the bus before. His hair, sweat-heavy and stuck to his forehead, same as it was before. Raven black, with a snow white streak in the front, salty flecks of white and grey throughout his hairline, showing his age. Crows feets, and the scars of many battles crease his sharp and defined face. Heterochromia; one ocean blue eye, one a radioactive green.

The Red Hood beside you stiffens. So does Batman.

“What the fuck?” Red Hood blurts out.

“Yeah. Still a fanboy?” Red Hood replies, arrogantly.

Your eyes dart from one reaction to another, and Red Hood removes his hand from your back.

“Jason?” Batman murmurs, mouth slightly agape, showing slivers of pearly white teeth.

“The one and only!” The older Red Hood stretches his arms out, like a jester in a royal court, and puff his chest out proudly. “Well, not anymore.” He grins to the Red Hood who stands beside you.

“What the fuck, man! Put your mask back on, she’s a civilian, she can’t know what I look like.” The Red Hood beside you scolds him, incredulously.

“Now why would I wanna hide my face from my lovely wife, huh?” The older one replies.

Silence.

“What?!” You and Red Hood shout in sync.

Tag list:

@c4xcocoa @coffeemin

@theendofthematerialgworl

(I hope i did that right.)

AHHHH I hope you like it. I spent all night working on it, and avoiding my actual responsibilities hehe

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gigiii1sblog · 3 days ago

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DORM-ROOM DEVIL 005

Warnings: mature content, fluff, sexual content, teasing, dirty talk, unprotected sexual content.

Chapters Five: drinks and kisses

Y/N POV:

The party hadn’t slowed down—it had just shifted. Louder bass, drunker bodies, hotter rooms. The kitchen smelled like tequila and cheap cologne, and every room buzzed with that electric chaos frat parties thrive on.

I should’ve left.

I should’ve gone with the guy from earlier—the one who complimented my perfume and offered to roll us something in his car. I should’ve disappeared from this damn house before anything got worse.

But I didn’t.

I stayed.

And that’s when I saw it.

Chris.

Against the hallway wall.

Hands tangled in her hair.

Lips on her mouth.

His mouth.

On her.

And not just some girl.

Sopiah.

My friend.

Well—“friend” in the way girls like us use the word. We share lashes and lighters. Compliment outfits. Take mirror selfies in the bathroom and repost each other’s thirst traps. Not real friends. Just party friends.

Still, it burned.

She was wearing glitter under her eyes, a backless top, and that dumb butterfly necklace she never takes off. And he—he had one arm around her waist, the other gripping her jaw like she was the only girl in the universe. Their mouths moved like they were starving. Like they were trying to consume each other.

It wasn’t sweet.

It wasn’t gentle.

It was raw. Messy. Loud.

He was putting on a show.

And he knew I was watching.

Because as his fingers slid down her back, his head tilted just slightly—eyes peeking open mid-kiss, like instinct—and met mine.

Dead on.

Right in the middle of it, Chris looked at me.

And smirked.

Like it was a game.

Like I was losing.

I felt my stomach drop. Not the butterfly kind. The gut-punch kind. Like my throat had been ripped open and filled with cement. But I didn’t flinch.

I tilted my chin up, like I didn’t care. Like I wasn’t breaking open inside.

“You good?” someone asked beside me—Matt.

I hadn’t even noticed him standing there.

“Yeah,” I lied, eyes still locked on Chris. “Perfect.”

Matt followed my gaze, then cursed under his breath. “He’s a dick,” he muttered.

I laughed once, but it didn’t sound like me. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

He offered me his drink. I took it. Drained half.

“I was about to leave,” I said, voice casual but not calm. “Want to walk me back?”

Matt hesitated, then nodded. “Yeah, sure.”

And that was it.

I didn’t look back. I didn’t give Chris the satisfaction of seeing me hurt.

But inside?

I was wrecked.

CHRIS POV:

I couldn’t stop.

Not because I wanted her.

But because I wanted her to see.

Y/N.

She walked into this party like she owned it—dark hair curled around her shoulders, that black mini dress hugging every curve, lashes long enough to knock a man out. She flirted with my brother. She gave me that lap dance like she wasn’t scared of anything. Like I was just a toy she could wind up and toss away.

So yeah. I made out with Sopiah.

And I didn’t give a fuck.

Except I did.

Because when I looked at Y/N, standing across the room in heels and hurt eyes, gripping a red cup too tight—something in me cracked. She didn’t cry. Didn’t flinch. Just stared.

Then walked away with Matt.

And something ugly roared to life inside me.

The same voice that said, She doesn’t care about you. She’s just playing.

But the truth?

I didn’t want to kiss Sopiah.

I wanted to pull Y/N into a dark room.

Press her against the wall.

Tell her to stop messing with my head.

Tell her she’s mine.

But instead?

I let Sophia drag me upstairs.

And the whole time, I wondered what it would take for Y/N to finally break.

Y/N POV: The next morning

The dorm felt different in the morning.

Not quiet. Not peaceful.

Just… fake.

Sunlight poured through the windows like it had the right to, even though it made everything look worse. The empty bottles on the counter. My heels abandoned by the door. The mascara smudge under my left eye.

I moved through the apartment like a ghost, wearing one of my oversized BU hoodies—his hoodie, technically, but I wasn’t giving it back. Not after last night.

I’d gone home alone.

Not because I couldn’t pull someone.

But because I couldn’t get him out of my head.

Chris.

Chris with his tongue down Sopiah’s throat.

Chris smirking like he won.

Chris who didn’t even chase me.

And now?

He was whistling in the kitchen.

Whistling.

Lacrosse sweats low on his hips, still shirtless, hair messy from sleep and probably still tangled with someone else’s perfume. He didn’t look at me when I walked in—just poured cereal like we were roommates and nothing else.

“Morning,” he said, voice casual. Not even smug. Just… normal.

And that pissed me off more than anything.

I didn’t answer.

I made a point of ignoring him. Went straight to the cabinet. Pulled out the oat milk I knew he liked. Took a long sip just to piss him off.

He glanced over his shoulder. “Damn, you’re in a mood.”

I shrugged, leaning on the counter. “Just tired of people pretending they’re something they’re not.”

He laughed once—low and sharp. “Right. You’re so real, aren’t you? Wearing my hoodie, acting like last night didn’t happen.”

I turned slowly, eyes cold. “You mean when you made out with my friend? Or when I left with your brother?”

That got his attention.

He turned fully to face me now, cereal forgotten.

“You think that bothers me?” he said, voice a little rough. “You think flirting with Matt means something?”

“No,” I said, smile tight. “But it clearly got your attention.”

For a second, we just stood there. The kitchen between us.

Air thick like a storm was coming.

And maybe it was.

“You always gotta play games?” he asked, stepping closer now. “Always gotta act like you’re untouched? Above it?”

I tilted my head. “You’re the one who’s pressed, Chris. I’m just existing.”

He laughed bitterly. “You’re not just existing, roomie. You’re performing. For everyone. Walking around in tiny dresses, playing the good girl until the lights go out.”

That struck something.

And I let it.

“Better than fucking the first glittered-up girl who looks your way,” I said, voice cool.

Silence.

Then, his eyes dropped to my legs, slow and deliberate. “You jealous?”

I stepped closer. “Do I look jealous?”

He smiled now. Not soft. Not playful. Dangerous.

“You look like you want to be the one I pinned to the wall last night.”

My breath caught.

He was inches away now, and the air between us buzzed—electric, toxic, unavoidable.

“You want to know what she said?” he asked, voice low. “When I kissed her?”

“No,” I snapped, but he didn’t stop.

“She said, ‘I bet you taste like trouble.’”

I stared at him. My spine straight. My heart pounding.

“And?” I said. “Do you?”

He leaned in. Close enough to smell my perfume—vanilla and smoke. His lips ghosted near my jaw, not touching.

“You tell me,” he whispered.

I swallowed.

And then I stepped back.

“No thanks,” I said, reaching for my vape on the counter. “I don’t do reruns.”

He let me walk away.

But I felt his stare on my back like a brand.

⸻

CHRIS POV:

She walked away.

Again.

In that stupid oversized hoodie and bare legs and smug little smirk like she wasn’t seconds from losing it. Like I didn’t see the way her throat moved when I got close. Like I didn’t hear her breath catch.

Y/N was the most dangerous girl I’d ever met.

Not because she kissed back.

But because she didn’t.

Because she always walked out the door after setting me on fire.

I ran a hand through my hair and laughed under my breath. Bitter. Low.

She wanted me to chase her.

And the worst part?

I wanted to.

But not yet.

Because if we collided too soon, we’d ruin everything.

We were on a collision course—slow, burning, inevitable.

And I was going to make sure when we finally did crash?

It was unforgettable.

Y/N POV: Later That Day

The music pulsed low through the apartment, a bass-heavy playlist thudding against the floorboards — not a wild party, but not quiet either. That in-between zone. The kind where anything could happen. The kind where people remembered what happened, but not how it started.

Chris had apparently decided tonight was “lowkey.” Which, for him, meant a crowd of twelve, an open bottle of Casamigos, and a haze of smoke curling through the living room.

He was sprawled out on the arm of the couch — black hoodie half-zipped over a matching tank, black sweats sitting dangerously low on his hips. A backwards fitted hat sat snug over his hair, pushing a few loose strands down into his eyes. He hadn’t shaved. His jaw was sharp.

His posture screamed confidence. Legs wide, ringed fingers tapping his thigh to the beat, beer in one hand. He looked like sin wrapped in casual comfort. He always did.

And when I walked in?

He noticed.

But didn’t say a word.

He just looked.

I didn’t dress up for it.

Not really.

Just threw on my black micro tank — one of those tiny, ribbed ones that cut short at the ribs and clung tight across my chest — and baggy, low-slung jeans that hung off my hips just enough to show the glint of my silver belly piercing.

Nothing dramatic. Just enough.

My hair was down. Lashes curled. That same gloss I always wore — the sticky kind that shimmered faintly under the cheap party lights. I didn’t need to do much. I never did.

And the second I walked into that living room?

I felt it.

Eyes on me. But especially his.

Chris didn’t say anything — just tipped his beer slightly and looked.

I didn’t look at him.

But I knew.

He was watching the way my shirt hugged my chest. The way the waistline of my jeans dipped when I leaned over to grab a drink. Watching the curve of my neck as I tilted my head back to laugh at something someone else said.

Watching me exist.

And I loved that.

CHRIS POV:

Eight days. That’s all it had been.

Eight days of living with her and I already felt insane.

Y/N walked into the room like she owned the place — not even trying, not even looking at me, just moving through the crowd like she didn’t know every guy in the room had their eyes locked on her. Black tank. Tiny. Tight. Cut so high I could see the slope of her ribs when she stretched her arms overhead. Baggy jeans slung low on her hips. Belly piercing catching the light.

Fuck.

She was a menace.

And she didn’t even try.

The worst part? She wasn’t like the other girls who hovered around the lacrosse house or fake-laughed at everything I said. She wasn’t giggly or desperate. She was… cool. Detached. Almost smug.

Which made it worse.

Because I wanted her attention.

And she gave it to everyone else but me.

⸻

Y/N POV:

“Truth or dare!” someone yelled out. “We’re not sitting here playing DJ roulette all night. Let’s make it interesting.”

I didn’t respond, just leaned against the kitchen counter and sipped my drink — vodka and something red. Sweet. Cheap. Perfect for chaos.

Then someone nudged me. “You playing?”

I turned to look across the room. Chris hadn’t moved, still slouched in his all-black fit like the king of indifference. But I could feel him watching. I gave a shrug. “Sure.”

The group shifted into a loose circle on the rug. I slid down cross-legged, my tank riding up slightly. I noticed Chris watching, but he didn’t join.

He stayed right where he was, sipping slow, eyes low. “Chris,” Nate called out, already grinning like he was up to something. “Truth or dare?”

The music buzzed low in the background — some slow bass-heavy track playing from someone’s playlist. My drink was cold in my hand. I could hear the distant thud of someone messing around with a speaker in the kitchen, but all I really heard was that pause — the beat right before Chris answered.

“Dare,” he said lazily.

Of course.

Nate’s grin stretched wider. “I dare you to kiss Y/N.”

The whole room reacted at once — laughter, gasps, someone even yelled out “FINALLY.”

I didn’t flinch. Just leaned back slightly on my hands, my glossed lips pulling into a slow smirk as I looked across the room at him.

Chris didn’t move right away. He just stared at me. Dark eyes under the brim of that backwards hat, a beer in his hand, black hoodie pulled halfway up his forearms like he was comfortable—but I saw the shift in him. That slight flex of his jaw. The way his fingers gripped the cup a little tighter.

He stood slowly.

Like he had time.

Like he knew I wasn’t going anywhere.

I held his gaze. Let my knees fall open a little more where I sat on the carpet. My cropped tank rode up just enough for a flash of bare stomach, the shimmer of my belly piercing catching the low kitchen light.

He stepped over someone’s legs, didn’t break eye contact. When he finally stood in front of me, the room seemed to still, the noise dulling under the weight of it.

“You good with this?” he asked, voice low, scratchy, dipped in that smoke-roughened edge I’d started recognizing. “You don’t have to.”

I tilted my chin up. “I can handle a kiss, Chris.”

The corner of his mouth twitched, like he was biting back something smart.

Then he crouched down in front of me, hands resting on his knees, face only inches from mine.

“Then come here, roomie.”

He didn’t wait. One hand slid under my jaw, tilting my face up, the heat of his palm making my breath catch.

His lips met mine — and it wasn’t tentative. It wasn’t some silly party kiss for the sake of a dare.

It was possession.

His mouth moved against mine with slow, deliberate pressure. Tongue grazing the seam of my lips, testing. His other hand planted firmly on my waist, fingers digging into the denim at my hip. I tasted beer and smoke and something sharper — something like the ache of being seen and touched in the same second.

I gasped softly against him, and he took that opportunity to deepen it — lips parting wider, tongue sliding against mine. My fingers twisted into the front of his hoodie, gripping. Anchoring.

The room faded out. People were laughing still, someone made a crude joke, but none of it mattered.

His fingers dragged slightly under the hem of my tank, Not far. But enough.

I pulled back first.

Breathless.

Gloss smudged. Heart hammering.

Chris’s eyes were on mine, darker now. He didn’t say anything.

Just stared for a second longer, like he wanted to say more, do more.

Then he pushed off his knees, stood, and walked back to the couch like it hadn’t just shattered the oxygen in the room.

⸻

CHRIS’S POV:

That wasn’t just a dare.

That was a goddamn turning point.

The second my hand slid beneath the hem of her shirt and I felt the bare heat of her waist under my palm — the second her lips opened for me — I knew I was in deep.

She tasted like cherries and vodka and danger. Like she knew exactly what she was doing.

And worse — like she liked doing it to me.

I couldn’t sit still after that.

Back on the couch, beer forgotten in my hand, I watched her lick her lips — maybe to fix her gloss, or maybe to remind me what I just lost contact with. She didn’t look at me again, not right away. Just turned and laughed at something Matt said like her whole world hadn’t just tilted sideways.

I leaned back into the cushion, hoodie sticking to my skin, hat pulled lower over my face like I needed cover.

This girl was going to ruin me.

And she hadn’t even tried yet.

I needed air. Or space. Or a fucking distraction.

The kiss was supposed to be a dare — quick, stupid, party fuel. But the second my mouth touched hers, everything tilted. Her lips were too soft, her body too warm, and the way she kissed back? It wasn’t innocent.

It was intentional.

Calculated.

She knew what she was doing to me. And that drove me up the wall.

I grabbed my rolled Blunt from the windowsill and slipped through the sliding door out onto the narrow balcony. The city buzzed around us, Boston loud and messy in the distance. I leaned against the railing and lit it up, dragging the smoke in like it could calm the chaos under my skin.

It didn’t.

The door slid open behind me. My jaw clenched before I even turned.

Of course.

Y/N stepped out like she wasn’t the source of every fucking issue I had right now. Her black tank clung to her body, exposing a sliver of skin above her jeans. That damn piercing glittered under the moonlight, and her lip gloss — still a little smudged from me — caught the city glow like it was taunting me.

“You always come out here when someone makes you feel something?” she asked, leaning against the opposite end of the railing.

I let out a dry laugh. “You think that kiss made me feel something?”

She looked over, unbothered, lashes low and lazy. “Didn’t say it did. But you’re out here with your blunt and your bad mood, so…”

“So maybe I just needed a smoke.”

She pulled a lighter from her back pocket and raised a brow. “You’re not the only one.”

I watched her light up like she’d done it a thousand times, casual and collected. She blew the smoke sideways, away from me, but the curl of it drifted anyway — sweet and sharp, just like her.

“Nice kiss,” she added, not looking at me.

My jaw ticked.

“You wanna rank it on a scale or something?” I asked, tone dry.

“Nah,” she said. “Wouldn’t be fair to the others.”

I turned, finally facing her. “You keep a list?”

She smirked, slow and evil. “Wouldn’t you like to know.”

The silence stretched between us — not awkward, but tight. Heavy. Her eyes flicked down to my mouth and back up like she didn’t mean to.

And that was the moment.

That exact second.

My blunt burned between my fingers, half-forgotten. Her lips were parted slightly, like she was thinking of a comeback and never said it. The wind lifted a few strands of her hair, and she didn’t move. Neither did I.

“You trying to get under my skin, roomie?” I asked.

She shrugged, stepping closer, smoke twisting between us. “Not trying. I think I already did.”

And fuck me.

She was right.

Y/N POV:

I didn’t plan to follow him out to the balcony.

I didn’t plan to light a joint or pretend I didn’t care.

But I had to see if that kiss got to him the way it got to me. If he was out here because I threw him off balance. Because something shifted. Because the game we’d been playing — teasing glances, snide comments, low-simmer flirtation — had officially crossed a line.

He didn’t look cocky anymore.

He looked tense. Guarded. Like touching me set something off inside of him that he didn’t know how to put back.

Good.

Let him feel it too.

The silence between us started to press into my ribs. My pulse was annoyingly loud. I hated that he could look like that — hoodie sleeves shoved up, backwards hat hiding half his face, smoke slipping from his mouth like a goddamn sin — and still act like the kiss hadn’t undone something between us.

“I bet you do this a lot,” I said, trying to keep my voice steady. “Kiss girls at parties like it’s nothing.”

He didn’t answer right away.

Then: “I don’t usually kiss the girls I live with.”

“Oh?” I raised a brow. “So I’m special?”

He looked at me then — really looked at me — and his voice dropped, low and deliberate.

“I didn’t say that.”

But the way he said it?

He didn’t have to.

And just like that, I felt it again — that spark at the center of my chest, daring me to step closer, to say something reckless, to grab his hoodie and pull him back into my mouth just to feel it all over again.

But I didn’t.

I flicked ash off the edge of the balcony and exhaled.

Then I turned, walked back inside, and left him standing there — smoking, brooding, and thoroughly fucked up over me.

Exactly how I wanted it.

⸻

The rest of the night was a blur.

Music pulsed. Bodies moved. I let someone pour tequila down my throat while I danced with a red cup in one hand and chaos in my chest. I laughed louder than usual. Smiled harder. Pulled a guy into my space without caring what his name was.

But no matter how many shots I took, no matter how hard I tried to disappear into the neon fog of this party, I could still feel him.

Chris.

His kiss. That look in his eyes. The weight of his stare as I walked away.

It wasn’t fair that he got under my skin that easy. That he stood there like temptation in a hoodie and smoke in his lungs, acting like kissing me meant nothing when we both knew it did.

So I got drunk. On purpose.

Wasted, even.

I stumbled through the apartment hours later, barefoot, mascara smudged, my shirt twisted and riding up one shoulder. The party had dissolved. Most people had left. I wasn’t even sure who was still here — I just wanted to forget the burn between my legs and the ache in my chest.

I wanted him.

And I didn’t care how messy that made me.

I pushed open his door without knocking.

His room smelled like weed and laundry detergent and the remnants of whatever cologne he wore when he thought no one would notice. My eyes struggled to adjust to the dim lighting, but there he was — sitting on the edge of his bed, phone in his hand, hoodie still on.

He looked up slowly. Didn’t say anything. Just watched me.

CHRIS POV:

I heard her before I saw her.

The front door swung shut way too loud for how late it was, and her footsteps came unsteady, echoing through the apartment like a warning. I was already in my room, hoodie on, lights low, scrolling on my phone and trying to forget the party — more specifically, trying to forget her.

But of course, she came straight to me.

My door cracked open.

And there she stood — Y/N, in the doorway, messy and flushed and fucked-up in the kind of way that screamed trouble.

Her makeup was smudged under her eyes, lips still shiny with gloss like she’d just been kissing someone else. Her top was tight and twisted, showing just enough skin to make it impossible not to look. And those low-rise jeans? Hanging off her hips like she wanted to be a distraction.

“Chris,” she said, breathy.

“You’re drunk.”

She giggled. “You always say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“Because it is.”

She leaned her shoulder against the doorframe, smile lazy and wicked. “You mad I had fun without you?”

I said nothing.

Because I was mad. Not because she flirted with other guys. Not even because I saw her grinding on some dude I didn’t recognize.

But because no matter what she did — no matter how far she pushed — she still ended up here.

With me.

“You gonna let me in, or what?” she asked, already stepping inside like she owned the place.

I didn’t stop her.

She made her way to the bed and sat down, head tilting. “This your plan? Hide out while everyone else parties?”

“My plan,” I muttered, “was to not be a babysitter tonight.”

She rolled her eyes, lifting her legs up onto the bed like it was hers too. “Relax. I’m not gonna puke on your precious sheets.”

“I’m not worried about that.”

She looked at me. Like really looked at me.

Then she crawled forward on her knees — slow, like a game — until she was right in front of me, her hands braced on either side of my legs. Her face tilted up, eyes wide, lips parted.

“Then what are you worried about, roomie?” she whispered.

I swallowed.

She leaned closer, lips brushing my jaw. My whole body tensed. “Is it that you think you can’t handle it?” she asked softly.

I grabbed her wrist.

“Y/N,” I said through clenched teeth, “don’t start something you’re not gonna finish.”

Her grin curled. “Who says I won’t?”

“You’re drunk.”

“Not that drunk.”

“You won’t remember this.”

“Yes, I will.”

I let go of her wrist — big mistake — and she slipped her hands under my hoodie, palms warm against my abs. I sucked in a breath as her lips ghosted over mine.

“You want this,” she said.

“I want a lot of things,” I snapped. “Doesn’t mean I get to have them.”

She pulled back just slightly, enough to raise a brow.

“Wow. So that’s your way of saying you’re scared.”

I laughed dryly, bitter. “I’m not scared of you.”

“Then kiss me.”

“Y/N…”

“Kiss me or admit you’re a coward.”

Her eyes locked with mine — a dare, pure and dangerous. I wanted to push her away. I wanted to be the good guy, the respectful one, the roommate who didn’t take advantage of the girl who was half-wasted and clearly hurting.

But her mouth was right there.

And her breath was sweet with tequila and strawberry gum.

And her hands were still on me, pulling me in like gravity.

So I caved.

I kissed her.

Hard. Deep. Angry.

Because it was wrong and I hated how right it felt.

She moaned into my mouth, fingers gripping the hem of my hoodie like she needed to hold on to something or she’d fall. Her body pressed to mine, hips flush. It was messy, all teeth and tension and built-up frustration.

And then—

She slumped forward.

Just like that. Her head dropped to my shoulder. Her breath slowed.

“Y/N?” I whispered.

No answer.

She’d passed out.

I sat there, stunned, with her body folded into mine like it belonged there — like I hadn’t just been resisting this exact thing all night.

My chest rose and fell fast, pulse thudding.

She stirred slightly in her sleep, nose brushing my collarbone.

Fuck.

I gently shifted, laying her down on the bed. Her lashes fluttered once, but she didn’t wake. I pulled the blanket up over her, tucking it around her waist, then ran a hand through my hair and leaned against the wall, staring at the ceiling.

My jaw was tight. My heart wouldn’t stop racing.

She kissed me like it meant something.

And passed out like it didn’t.

heheeheheh

@izzylovesmatt @riggysworld @amiraisafreakokaysorry @ansteeze @pair-of-pantaloons @kitty-meow-meow44

@emeraldsturns @sturnslux3

@kalel2005 @sarahsturns

@teheabrams @needchrissturniolobad

@julessspoetry @sturniszn

@slutforchrissturniolo2

@alinagrace11 @beardedbernard

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slt4kavanagh · 3 days ago

Note

hi!!

nsfw alphabet for joey please?

nsfw alphabet

pairing: joey lynch x fem!reader

tw: smut references and nsfw references

a/n: slowly getting through requests

masterlist !

ᯓ★ aftercare

shockingly gentle. he doesn’t talk much right after, just touches—his hand sliding over your waist, his mouth pressed to your shoulder, running you a bath if he feels like he pushed you too far. always asks, “you good?” in that low voice, like he means it more than anything.

ᯓ★ body part (his & theirs)

on him: his hands. he uses them like he knows they’re his best asset—whether it’s pinning yours down, guiding your hips, or brushing knuckles over your lips. on you: your thighs. loves pulling them apart, holding them open, watching them tremble under him. also lowkey obsessed with your mouth.

ᯓ★ cum

he’s so visual. always wants to see where it lands—your stomach, your chest, your thighs. but if he’s inside you? he’ll growl it into your ear, like, “gonna fuckin’ fill you up, yeah?” and then watch it drip out with his lip between his teeth.

ᯓ★ dirty secret

he gets off on the idea of you watching him. he hasn’t said it out loud yet, but he wants you to walk in on him one day��wants you to see how bad he wants you when you’re not even there.

ᯓ★ experience

you already know he’s no angel. he’s been around, had his flings, especially with older women. but nothing’s been serious—until you. and it shows. he’s confident but careful with you. a little more patient. a little more obsessed.

ᯓ★ favorite position

he’s a face-riding demon. swears it’s his favourite thing on earth. other than that? either backshots with your face buried in his pillow, or missionary with your legs over his shoulders so he can see everything.

ᯓ★ goofy

not often. maybe right before or after. during? he’s intense. serious. might smirk, but it’s not funny—it’s because he knows what he’s doing to you.

ᯓ★ hair

he keeps things natural but clean. doesn’t overthink it. doesn’t care what you’ve got going on either—he’s into all of it, full stop.

ᯓ★ intimacy

it’s overwhelming. he doesn’t always say it, but he shows it in every single touch. presses his forehead to yours. kisses your eyelids. worships you like you hung the stars.

ᯓ★ jerking off

does it a lot when he’s away from you. thinks about that one exact moan you made last time, the scratch marks on his back. sometimes he’ll call you after—voice hoarse, saying “fuck, baby, missed you.”

ᯓ★ kinks

* control/power play

* light choking

* thigh riding

* degradation + praise mix (“such a good girl for me, look at you.”)

* overstimulation (on you)

* possessiveness—“mine,” said over and over again

ᯓ★ location

bedroom is his go-to, but he’s had you in the backseat of his car, up against the shower wall, and once in the school gym when no one else was around.

ᯓ★ motivation

you in his clothes. your bare legs. your voice when it drops a little lower. the way you look at him when you’re pretending you’re not needy. he can always tell.

ᯓ★ no

nothing degrading in a real way. he can be rough, sure, but he’ll never do anything that makes you actually uncomfortable or insecure.

ᯓ★ oral (giving & receiving)

he’s obsessed with giving. says it’s his favourite part of sex. will have you squirming under his mouth in minutes, gripping his hair, and he loves when you try to pull away and he just growls, “nah, love, we’re not done.” receiving? smug bastard about it, but still lets you take your time. rests his hand behind your head like he’s petting you, then bites his fist to keep quiet.

ᯓ★ pace

varies. sometimes it’s slow and cruel, just to see you beg. other times it’s brutal—fast and rough, like he’s chasing something. always, always deep.

ᯓ★ quickie

yes. after school, during a smoke break, in the changing rooms. especially if he’s in a mood and you’re being too tempting.

ᯓ★ risk

a bit of a reckless streak. not stupid, but definitely doesn’t mind pushing it. loves knowing you’ll let him have you even if there’s a chance someone might hear.

ᯓ★ stamina

ridiculous. he could go again right after. sometimes does. especially if you’re being teasing about it. he’ll just roll you back over like, “nah, you’re not done yet.”

ᯓ★ toys

not yet, but he’s intrigued. would use a vibrator on you and lose his mind watching you squirm under it.

ᯓ★ unfair

teases a lot. touches you just enough to drive you insane and then pulls away. makes you ask for it. and if you don’t? he’ll smirk and say, “didn’t hear a please, love.”

ᯓ★ volume

he grunts, groans, curses. breathes hard in your ear. mutters your name over and over, especially when he’s close.

ᯓ★ wild card

he fantasizes about you watching one of his hurling matches after he’s already fucked you that day—like limping a little, legs sore, knowing exactly why. and he’d wink at you from the field like he’s the cockiest bastard alive.

ᯓ★ x-ray

he’s hung. you know this. thick more than long, veiny, curves a bit to the left. knows how to use it too.

ᯓ★ yearning

he’s feral. pretends he’s laid back but the second you’re near him, his whole body hums with need. craves you all the time. can barely keep his hands to himself.

ᯓ★ zzz

clings to you after. one arm thrown over your waist, breathing against your neck, murmuring dumb sleepy praise like, “you’re mine, y’know that?” until he drifts off.

#boys of tommen #joey lynch #saving 6 #redeeming 6 #chloe walsh #slt4kavanagh

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lunarruled · 23 hours ago

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How amazing was it to simply enjoy the softness of a clean bed? Kyleigh couldn't even remember the last time this had happened. Well of course it had been before the dead walked but since then all she could think about was surviving. Now there she was, perched on some strangers bed, eating their food and thinking about beer. Glancing over at Magna she couldn't help but laugh some more, a part of her glad to see her friend taking some time to enjoy herself. It was nice and she hoped that they would get the chance to do it again before they went their separate ways.

"Never thought I would say it but even warm soda might be better than a beer right now." She joked, not surprised that Magna thought a single beer would get her drunk. If they were going on appearances alone, yeah that would be the case. Kyleigh had always been small but she had shrunk down even more now that the world was over. But if it wasn't a full bottle of the strongest liquor on Earth she wasn't going to feel much of it. One of the downsides of being half lycan, human alcohol didn't get her drunk. Although after all this time it might give her a bit of a buzz.

Still it was nice to get the time to even imagine such a thing and to be able to speak of something other than running away from the dead. Finishing off her chips she looked around the room, wondering when the last time something living had been inside it. Could it have been that old couple? Maybe others looking for them or a safe place to hide in? Before she could get too deep into those depressing thoughts Magna agreed that they should check out the garage, and yes of course it would be amazing if they actually found a car in there. Keys would be wonderful too, something she hadn't been worried about. "Both are good, I wouldn't mind getting behind the wheel again." Memories of her cherished SS came to the front of her mind, a brief smile crossing her face. If it hadn't been for that damn group of the dead getting too close Kyleigh might have been able to save her car. The last physical reminder of the uncle she lost years before.

That question caused yet another laugh to escape her, hazel eyes turning towards Magna's. "I did try when I was young and dumb. A friend of mine at the time wanted to take his Mom's out for a joyride but couldn't find the keys. So I told him I would hot wire it, trying to impress him. Dumbass didn't tell me it had an alarm. Damn thing went off and woke up the entire neighborhood. Never hung out with after that. What about you? You ever steal anything?"

For as much as Magna felt the urge to keep going, she knew she would collapse if she didn't take a break. A voice inside her told her 'I'll sleep when I'm dead', but hell, not even the dead got rest nowadays. So she allowed herself to relax, taking in the unfamiliar feeling of a soft bed under her, the fabric of the blanket almost feeling like silk to her as she brushed her hand against it. She could even smell the laundry detergent which had been used on the sheets. Clean cotton, her favorite. It was as if it had been washed recently. Taking a deep breath, she fought the urge to just lie down, allow her body to fully sink into the soft mattress and take a nap on this bed, which felt like heaven to her, even among all those feelings of despair and horror.

"You still got two cans of soda", Magna reminded Kyleigh as she spoke about her desire for beer. "Might be better than beer. From your looks of you, I'd say you'd get drunk from a single bottle", she quipped with a warm undertone to that dry sarcasm that was enough to tell that the comment wasn't meant as an insult.

At the mention of the garage, Magna nodded. "If we're lucky, we'll find an even better vehicle in there. A motorcycle wouldn't be bad, my legs are getting tired." Sure, it was loud, but Magna swore she would fall off the bike at some point with the way her body felt. Probably because she had been sleeping on floors for so long, which had messed with her back, and that pain was shooting to all areas of her body. "A car would be even better," she added. All the ones they had passed by had been locked, and a few completely destroyed. As Magna contemplated how they would even get to start a car without keys, it occurred to her that they might find some keys in this house if they were lucky. "We should check this place for keys."

She was no longer in a rush, though. Magna would allow herself to stay here a minute or two longer. Thinking of starting cars without keys, a thought popped into her mind. "So. You ever steal a car before?"

#☾ laskar1s #☾ v: Welcome To the New Age #☾ (The Walking Dead)#☾ Scouting The Neighborhood #☾ c: Magna #☾ friends of the half lycan; Magna #☾ nothing wrong with them just relaxing for a moment #☾ and talking about their pasts!

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cozylittleartblog · 6 months ago

Note

Hey-yo '<')/ Your art-style is so lovely and, for lack of a better word, cozy. Were there any inspirations on your art-style?

thank you! my holy trinity of art style influences is rebecca sugar, the tf2 comics, and derrick j wyatt, among a lot of other things, like older cartoons and anime. i learned some about gestures and anatomy from my friend @kfrances too, her art is fantastic. i have no idea where exactly i picked up my love of textures from though, i've always liked the look of digital art that looks very handmade and cozy and traditional, and i like the look of old vhs and film. it's very nostalgic.

#ask #spiketheguy #i cant remember if i said this yet or not but #i was watching TFA with my friend and i mentioned how derrick was a big early art inspiration of mine and still is #and once the cars started coming on screen he was like 'oh. yeah. i can see it in the way you draw kitt.'#yeah dhshjbdfsdf. broad sleek lines like that are good but especially on cars. also rip legend we miss you o7 #generally i want my art to look animation ready since i pull a lot from cartoons; and very textured and warm and nostalgic #i have a lot of really small influences and some of it is just fucking around and finding out #been leaning a little more into the grainy vhs look lately i feel like #i have a columbo sticker in production rn that i kinda leaned that way with. same style as that comic i made

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heritableseance · 1 year ago

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guys i have to be honest. im the typa guy that likes to roam around. im never in one place. i roam from town to town.

#fallout #and when i find myself a'fallin for some girll #i hop right into that car of mine #drive around the world #yeah im the wanderer #yeah the wanderer #i roam around around around

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chryblossomjjk · 1 year ago

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i thought the cat distribution system finally found me ):

#so there’s a bunch of stray cats around my job #i work in a group home so there’s like a neighborhood and then woods and highway on the other side #and a little calico follows me to my car #rubbing against me leg n what not #no collar #so i was like erm #oh ok yeah #ur mine now #joking lol #so before i make the decision to take her home i start investigating #so i put her in my car and i start going door to door to ask if she belongs to anyone #(outdoor cats destory the ecosystem btw n are invasive so like also keep that in mind)#(n we have a huge stray cat problem already)#so i get to this one neighbor and he’s like oh that cat is stray #she’s outside all the time and my wife and i feed her #so im like all giddy #start driving home with miss thing #and she looking out the window #all of a sudden this old woman and her daughter start beeping and screaming at me #that that cat is their neighbors cat #so i pull over and theyre flipping the fuck out about how i /stole birdie/#like EXCUSE ME #TELL YOUR NEIGHBOR TO BE A BETTER FUCKING OWNER #anyway the took the kitty n brought her back to her home rip

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softnonsensesoftmind · 3 months ago

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they still haven’t called me back about the job and i just [incoherent screaming] Please. i wanna knowwwww

#i hate. Waiting. that’s all this is. it’s just Waiting with bonus Anxiety #but i’m going back home tomorrow so. maybe that’ll help. i do really like being here though :3 i just can’t really do anything until i Know #which is lame so yeah. back to the city we go wheeee #but the drive is really nice so im not worried about it. though its been so Fucking Windy n it pushes my car around which i hate #anyway whatever tomorrow might be better so c:#ok now i’m gonna go read more hope u have a good day ily forehead smooches <33 #mine

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chitsangenthusiast · 1 year ago

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the drive (lol) to write bc of the bikeriders but the unpleasant awareness my fingers don't remember how to!!!!!

#there's also nothing going around in this noggin except CAR SEX MOTORCYCLE SEX ONE-SIDED CODEPENDENCY DACRYPHILIA #HE'S NOT YOURS BUT I WOULD MAKE HIM MINE anyway #someone on letterboxd said they knew what they were doing by dropping that movie during pride month and yeah. Yeah!

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screampied · 5 months ago

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PARTITION! g. satoru

ৎ୭ sum. your sugar daddy, satoru’s worst fear happened. he fears you’re too much of a spoiled rotten brat. screw riding in his expensive private limousine—you wanted to ride something else instead. (him, duh)

wc. 7.3k

warnings. fem! reader, sugar daddy gojo! au, age gap (early twenties + thirties), car sęx, bratty reader, unprotected, getting eaten out the window, tít job, reverse cowgirl, doggy, cunnīlingus, nanami cameo, slight alcohol consumption, size kink, cęrvix kissing, possessive themes (wearing waist beads w his initials), implied multiple rounds, he’s sooo whipped, bręeding.

➤ sd! gojo masterlist

“meet my baby here, sweets. charlotte.”

“satoru, what.”

as satoru had an arm slinked around your waist, brushing a thumb across the jewels that stuck against of of the many designer blouses he’s bought you within the past week, he hums. the two of you were staring straight at a limousine. it was icy blue like his eyes with a plethora of dark-tinted windows. to even top it off, it had ‘G.S limousine service, inc.’ carved into the side of one of the doors in bright, blue cursive.

you huffed, smearing your glossed lips together. “you named your limousine?”

“heh, well she’s yours now,” he hums, guiding you toward the slid open doors. “c’mon, there’s a club i wanna take you to. if we leave now, we can beat the press.” and satoru takes a peek at his gleaming, pricey watch. he helps lifts the back of your long skirt from touching the ground before you step in. immediately, you’re hit with flashing lights inside the luxurious car and its plush red seats.

“where to, sir.” a blond chauffeur adjusts his mirror with a sigh, taking a short glance at you.

satoru throws an arm around you, tugging lightly on his tie that’s tucked neatly in his suit. “ah, kento, meet my girl. and please—drive us to my private lounge,” satoru kisses your cheek as you sit, whispering in an impish, low tone. “buckle up, sweetheart. ‘s gonna be a bumpy ride.”

the seats were oh-so-soft, a violent hot color of maroon as the entire limo was lit up with nothing but dim flashing, flashing lights.

it was bright, the size alone was probably bigger than a simple normal bathroom. satoru saw you taking in the luxurious life like you always did, craning your head from left to right before peering at the empty wine glasses in front of you both.

“it’s so pretty,” you hummed, your head resting against his shoulder.

once you’re laid against him, you’re smacked with his signature loud cologne scent. it was always a scent you’d never forget, nor could you get used to.

it’s strong, making you take the citrusy manly aroma in silence every time.

with a raised brow, you look up at the white-haired man before timidly murmuring, “wait- what do you mean this is mine? like.. the whole thing?”

“yeah, silly girl,” satoru brushes a thumb around the center of your forehead in invisible circles.

you’ve grown to get weak with his tender touch every time. cerulean-iced eyes lock against you lovingly, and that’s when that cunning grin spreads at each side of his crooked lips. “think of it as an uh- surprise gift for the new year.”

with a pout, you open your mouth to complain. “satoru- last week, you just bought me-”

“a convertible, and i’d do it again in a heartbeat,” satoru whispers, planting another kiss near your temple.

your incoming words come to an abrupt pause, and the cute speechless look you gave him always made him hum in amusement.

one of the many things satoru liked- no loved about you, was that you were always so humble.

you were forever grateful, but you couldn’t help but be hesitant sometimes at how much he’d constantly spend for you. satoru continued to shower you with compliment though—constantly reassuring you that he wanted to splurge his money on you.

you were living the dream - literally.

embodying the life of a rich girl, a type of rich girl where you’d usually see in cheesy movies or sung in iconic songs by artists like gwen stefani.

even though it’s been a full-blown year, you’ve started to grow accustomed to the sweet luxury of being a sugar baby.

satoru gojo’s sugar baby.

but he wasn’t starting to see you as just his pretty ‘lil sugar baby though, that much was apparent.

satoru didn’t expect you to not only take his money but his heart too.

and he never minded.

he couldn’t put a price on that anyway.

“besides,” he grabs a clear, empty glass and an unopened bottle from underneath the fuzzy, red seat. with a flick, satoru removes the cork that is plugged near the top with just his thumb and middle finger. as he pours a small portion of wine inside, the velvet-colored liquid stains against all sides of the glass.

“what’s mine is yours, baby,” he takes a sip before sighing at the cassis flavor hits against his tastebuds, “ ‘s what my sweet thing deserves.”

as you’re still pouting, the limo continues to drive.

the windows were tinted, but it was clear as day when you looked through them to take a quick peel. as usual, the roads were quite busy with rush hour but it was a smooth ride nonetheless.

however though, you had to admit, you were getting a bit… bored.

satoru sat man spread, both of his wide legs taking so much unnecessary space before he contemptibly sighed again. with one of his arms still wrapped around you, you took a moment to take in his suave, handsome appearance.

he always was draped in nothing but tuxedos—

after all, without the whole sugar daddy side thing, you sometimes forget how satoru was a literal well-known businessman.

he never really went into the specifics of his work, but you knew he was the CEO of some private company.

satoru was a very powerful man, a man with a big net worth … but an even bigger heart.

the shoes that satoru wore were dress shoes of his own brand, of course. in the luminous, glittery lights of the inside of the limousine—the shoes were visibly spit-shined from top to bottom. his suit’s dark black, and the handkerchief that stuck out of his front chest had the imprints of your lipstick on it.

of course he kept that.

his hair..

it’s messily ruffled but somewhat presentable, slicked back as usual with a faint side part. over time, you started to notice how he was growing facial hair too.

it’s subtle, and you’d have to squint but you saw it. you saw how specks of white hair were trying to form down near his chin.

it was attractive nonetheless, and the thought of satoru growing a stubble had you squeezing your thighs together in shame.

after all, he was in his early-thirties so he was bound to grow some facial hair at some point. he’s always been a well-shaved man, but the image forever plagued your mind.

“yeees, sweets.” he snaps you out of your little fantasm, the near-empty wine glass still in his hand. he sits the expensive bottle of ‘screaming eagle’ near the limo’s bar that was covered with dozens of tiny, pretty rhinestones.

“h.. huh?” you stammer, blinking thrice.

shit.

the way you stared at him was like a deer in headlights. caught red-handed!

that same wry grin that stretched so slyly pried at both cracks of his lips before satoru tilted his head. “you’re starin’ y’know,” and you felt his hand placed on your thigh. “is my baby bored?”

“a little,” you admitted, hearing the loud screeching of tire wheels and screaming horns of other cars in the background.

only satoru could make you feel like you were the only girl in the world..

slowly, satoru dragged his pink tongue over his upper lip which was a bit damp from the scarlet-colored wine.

you sucked in a raucous breath - your thoughts turning more ‘n more filthy by the second.

his lips.. they were so perfect, naturally glossed, and forevermore had a plump downward curve. you could stare at them all day, and your eyes widened once a drip of wine started to trickle down the right side of his lip.

“ooh- excuse me. guess ‘m a bit messy today,” he throatily chuckles, feeling the coldness of the red droplet race down his skin. “would you be a doll ‘n lick that up for me, sweetheart?”

“okay-” you comply right away, positioning yourself on his lap.

satoru titters, cocking his head lazily toward the left as you get comfortable. cute, he thinks.

he could already tell how eager you were. also, he didn’t tell you the duration of the ride but it was probably about a good hour.

like hell could you even wait that long.

it felt like time was so cruel - standing still as you inched closer and closer toward his face. satoru laid man spread the entire time, eyeing you closely with his gaze never leaving yours.

he paws a big hand near your waist, hearing your pretty airy breaths pick up.

“stop looking at me like that-”

“aw, is it a crime to stare at my gi-”

satoru’s fatally silenced with a kiss.

it’s a rough one, and you couldn’t wait to run your tongue across the remnants of cherry-flavored wine that now started to drip down his chin.

it tasted sweet - a spicy cherry flavor, and you moaned once his knee aligned itself between your thighs.

his thigh was so bulky too, even underneath the lanky, slender slacks he wore. satoru was a particularly ripped guy in general — you knew his workout routine like the back of your hand, and sometimes he’d even let you do sets with him.

(sets that mainly consisted of you sitting on his back while he did push-ups orrrr sitting on his abs while he used barbells in his private gym)

“mhm~” you moan against his lips, hearing the competitive sounds of teeth rudely smacking against each other in vigorous sync.

each tongue’s on a dangerous mission, desperately trying to dominate the other and you couldn’t help but melt.

your twisting, hot tongue started to wander, creating a slippery snail trail near the crack of his mouth before nibbling on his bottom lip. “sa- satoruu.” you’d breathe, one hand giving his tie a needy, impatient pull.

“heyyy, you know i don’t speak whine,” he whispers, breaking away from your lips for a second.

your lips were already swollen, slickly shining with saliva that could’ve been an easily replaceable substitute for lip gloss. “use those words, sweetheart,” and it was like the more he spoke, the deeper his voice seductively pitched.

the knee that still rested between your sprawled open legs didn’t make things easier either. “tell me what you want ‘n maybe i’ll give it to ya, hm?”

with a huff, you mumble a soft, “you-”

“well yeah, me silly! elaborate for me though.”

“i want- i want you.. i want all of you satoru. right now,” you go into more detail, leaning in to paint a slope of wet kisses down his neck. satoru’s collar was a bit unkempt—some exposed skin showed above his collar which you then brought upon yourself to attack with kisses. “pretty please.”

“hah- but.. you already have me,” he inhales, groaning once he feels you starting to grind against his lap.

satoru’s touch was pure static..

his fingers couldn’t help but mindlessly roam, tickling against your bare skin that protruded through the minuscule squares of your ripped fishnets.

the stare you two shared was just so intimate, and he could almost already smell your lusty, loud arousal..

“mhm- y’know, what i want too?” satoru huskily whispers against your ear, grunting as your hips slooooowly rubbed against his visible boner.

hugely, it stuck out through his jet-black slacks. leave it to you to always make him hard.

“tell me.” you reply with a chastened frown, sliding a hand up his loose button-up. your hand enters underneath his shirt and his skin is so warm that it feels like his entire body is on fire.

right away, your curious palm gets a taste of his hardened abs that were nearly akin to the texture of a damn brick.

rigid, flexing muscles of satoru’s relax at your touch before he grabs a nice chunk of your ass.

“oh, nothing! ‘m just a.. ‘lil thirsty, sweets..”

♡ ♡ ♡

“ohmygod-” you’d squeal, cupping a clammy palm over your mouth.

when satoru said he was thirsty, you surely didn’t expect him to have you hanging out the window with your ass perfectly perked out.

with a single hand, he pulled up your skirt, raising it to the brink of your waistline while dragging your pretty lace panties to the side with a single thumb.

you were partially hanging out the window - safely though, he’d never let you fall.

satoru had an arm wrapped around your waist, one hand sliding down your thigh. vehemently, his tongue swirled circles around your clit before giving it one looooong suck.

his lips puckered, and he could already feel your hips starting to stutter against his mouth.

“mng- ‘toru,” you’d heave, wriggling your ass around his face. the tip of his nose started to rub up and down your slit too, and he’s shamelessly getting a whiff of your candied mess.

he was always so nasty, proudly spitting on your pussy, lapping it up before it dripped onto the thousand-dollar seats.

“mhh- wiggle that ass a little more for me baby, dance with my.. haaah- tongue,” he whispers airily, thumbing a fat finger near your pulsing clit. satoru found it so cute how you’d pulse every time he’d smear slippery circles around your pussy.

you just couldn’t help it!

you’re sucking in each ‘n every breath, sinking the edges of your teeth into your bawled knuckle to suppress your moans.

a strong gust of wind strikes you as the car continues to move, and you’re just meekly smiling at the cars that pass by.

from their points of view… the drivers are just seeing some random girl slightly hanging out a halfway-lowered limousine window.

in reality though,

you were getting eaten out while dozens of cars speedily drove past you.

through your slightly blurred peripherals, you saw satoru’s chauffeur who you remember hearing him address as ‘kento’ earlier, giving you a peer through his side-view mirror. he had his hands firmly on his steering wheel, scoffing to himself with a head shake.

he mumbled something under his breath as he looked away, focusing his browned eyes on the talking GPS that read him the directions to the destination.

from your sweet, repetitive moans, you couldn’t exactly make out what he said but from a quick read of his lips, you’d probably guess it was something like:

“i don’t get paid enough for this shit.”

as you’re still hung out the window, your legs part a bit - causing your eyes to widen.

satoru’s slurping you clean, skipping frisky plump fingers down your thigh before cupping his plump lips around your pussy. his head, it moves back and forth, ferociously shifting side to side like a damn madman.

you probably looked soo stupid. your mouth stayed open the entire time with your jaw forever dropped—dangling like an earring.

“fuh- fuuuck,” your trembling voice pitches higher, and you claw a hand near the back of your ass.

tightly gripping at a piece of your ass, it fits around your hand entirely before you turn to look back at satoru.

already, his chin’s got a pretty coat of your juices pouring down his jaw. his tongue was just hungry, wanting far more than just a few sips of his expensive screaming eagle..

you were far sweeter than any beverage, and satoru continuously took big, big gulps.

he treated his lips like a straw, pursing them to suck before slurping every single drop of you clean until you could barely hold your legs open.

“mhm- look at alllll this pretty fuckin’ ass,” he groans, removing your hand that was gripped on your rear.

with a whack! he hits it, humming at the cute ‘lil jolt of your shimmying body.

your skin jiggles in his face instantly, and you feel his curving tongue precisely slow its frantic pace down by the second.

there….

the tip of his pointed tongue stretched itself so far out that it clicked itself against your precious g-spot. “mng- spread y’rself wider, baby. ‘m not done with my.. hah- drink.”

“suh- sssatoru,” you’d drag out your whiny, pathetic words.

your brows formed into a furrow as your hands grabbed onto the edges of the rolled-down window. sweaty, perspiring fingertips imprinted the fogged glass as he licked every wet orifice thoroughly.

thankfully, some music was blasting in the background—seemingly drowning out your constant, pleading whines and whimpers..

satoru’s designer tie even gets a bit wet - you’re drip drip dripping, tears of glossy slick pouring flawlessly from both sides of your legs. he brings a thumb toward your hole, feeling your cute wriggles before spitting down your pussy.

slowly, the webby string trails a straight, sloppy line down and he licks it up — removing his thumb and starting at your hole before lapping his tongue down the bottom part of your pussy.

he’s wholeheartedly feral - animalistic, working his tongue until your brain turns into mush.

eventually, you ended up crawling back into the spacious limousine and landed on your back.

with your legs still spread, satoru lifts your thighs, continuing his feast. “mmph- get back here, sweets. ‘m not haaah- done,” he’d jibe each time he’d squint to see your cute weak pulse up close.

you’re impatient - desperate for your release so much that you could almost taste it..

it tasted sweet with a bit of tang, and the more you fantasized about your inevitable orgasm— the more more more you were starting to blank out all on his tongue.

“mnh- attaaaaa girl, let ‘toru get a nice good sip.” he’s still slurping you, a few excess juices smearing against his cheek.

satoru’s long, white lashes flutter open and close as he relishes in your treacly taste.

you just couldn’t stay still though.

with the way your hips cutely tossed ‘n turned each time his tongue delved inside of your sopping cunt, he’d think your middle name was ‘squirmer.’

time drags by for a looong time, not as long as satoru’s tongue though.. not by a long shot..

it flicked its way through each spot, munching proudly against your clit before your tummy tucked inward. your brain haywires, and with your mouth wide open — the only sounds that escaped were small, labored breaths.

you’re cumming, and your lashes frantically blinked at so many blinks per second. your muscles that were once tense relaxed as you’re finally succumbing to pleasure.

you squealed out that final, harmonic battle cry before your head plopped into the edge of the limo’s seat.

“fuck- fuck, fuuuck,” you’re whimpering, repeating the same swear like a broken record as you feel him grab ahold of your writhing hips.

his tongue’s length curved its way everywhere, creating a path to remember as it made itself known at all tender areas of your pussy.

“uh huh- that’s it, good girl. ride it out, riiiide it out, i gotcha,” he groans, laying his tongue fully flat. it’s a rose-like pink, soddened tastebuds sizzling in contempt once you’re ‘quenching’ his thirst with your sweetened arousal.

buzzing sounds went in and out of your ears as you just released huff after puff through your lungs. satoru’s lips were glossed with nothing but your slick, even more than they already were.

he gives your poor, convulsing clit its last finally smooches before reluctantly breaking away.

“hah- never a dull moment with her,” he licks his lips from top to bottom, grabbing out his lipstick-stained handkerchief before patting underneath his chin. “you okay, sweetheart?”

“ ‘m okay,” you breathe, still feeling tingles surge through every one of your veins that ran down your wobbly, numb limbs. your legs had it the worse.

you barely felt anything, and satoru helped you back to your feet.

it was a limo, so it wasn’t like you could exactly stand but you sufficed by crouching just below the fuzzy-made hood.

satoru lies slouched back - giving his lap a few playful pats before tilting his head at you. “c’mere, sweet thing,” and his voice was dripping with erotic silk.

his ocean-strong eyes zero down at your body, trailing up up up before eventually stopping just about your waistline.

your skirt was now off — pulled to the floor and so were your panties. you only had your matching blouse on. you got an idea though, and satoru watched you get on your knees. “oh..?”

“ ‘toru,” you speak in shortened puffs, still trying to get over your recent teeth-shattering orgasm. every sensitive axon and nerve located in your body was screaming at you, aching for more stimulation as time passed.

as your hands casually spread his long legs wider across the cushioned seats, you hummed. “remember those waist beads you ordered me a few weeks back?”

“mhm,” he nods, eyes never darting away from your wriggling body for a second.

satoru wondered what your game was.

as he was trying to prevent himself from smiling, he was starting to realize that maybe, just maybe you were starting to get just a liiiiitle bit spoiled.

as his legs were fully sprawled apart, you brought your hands toward the hem of the designer blouse that stuck against your skin. you honestly lost count of just how many clothes satoru’s bought you within the past year.

he watches closely - zeroing down at your figure, nipping on his lip as he stares at you leisurely pulling the piece of clothing off of you.

satoru’s seen your skin countless times, but there was just something about your body that he just couldn’t get enough of.

couldn’t get enough of you..

if he was being honest, he could stare at you all day.

“look. it fits perfectly,” you speak in a sweet tone, your thighs stuck together as you were still dripping from the inner crevices. you could feel yourself throbbing, and it took everything in you to not let out a moan.

satoru tsks, kissing his teeth once he’s now exposed to your skin.

the damn beads,

they wrapped around your waist and indeed fit your entire torso. his eyes studied the gold that went around your raised hips, whistling once he saw those two crystallized initials - his initials.

‘G.S’

the small two letters hung on one waist bead that was drooped low near your naval and an extra twin pair near the charms behind your back. “fuuuck- know that’s right,” satoru huffs, his breathing starting to get a bit heavy.

“all mine, heh- looks so damn pretty on you,” and as his eyes continued to meander down your skin, satoru’s head rests back against the softly cushioned seat. “hm- how ‘bout you model for me? show off that gorgeous body a little more f’ me.”

“say ‘please’,” you’d get on his lap, wrapping your arms around him. satoru looks up at you with a mere pouting scowl, a hand instinctively attaching itself to your hip.

“pleaaase, oh-pleaseeee sweets. don’t tease me too bad, you’re bein’ a bit of a spoiled girl right now,” he whispers, bringing wet, cold lips toward the corner of your neck. you moaned, feeling satoru’s free hand strum a few fingers down your waist beads.

they clank clank clanked, creating pretty jingle sounds at each faint movement before you started to move your hips.

“goddamn-” he holds in a breath, practically wordless as his eyes continued to rove.

briskly, you slowly turned yourself around, teasingly popping your hips to the dropping beats of the song that played through the limo’s speakers.

satoru’s suddenly short of breath, circling a thumb around the left cheek of your ass. he’s so hard, and you could feel it the more you rubbed your ass right up against thaaat particular spot.

he sucks his teeth once more, grunting as he feels the cloth knead against your skin so good..

“woman, you’re bein’ such a bratty tease right now..” and he could taste that round, large lump forming near the very back of his throat.

satoru shivers as your hands place on the crown of his knees, and you’re starting to rock rock rock back ‘n forth his throbbing boner. “hmph. the things i let ‘cha get away with, lucky ‘m not.. haah- fuck, bending ya over my lap, baby.”

“you talk a lot for a guy with a boner this hard, ‘toru.” you shrug, continuing the sensual jerking of your hips.

he’s grunting at every swift turn of your body, hearing his heart loudly thump through his ears.

the limo’s speed picks up a few miles and you could hear the grumbling from underneath the vehicle as you stayed quiet for a few seconds.

“mmh- fine, since you said please.”

as you’re still facing the other way, you reach for his buckle with your fingers brushing near the cold straps. you couldn’t see, so he grabbed your hand—guiding you where to unbuckle his slacks.

“f.. fuck, hurry up. you rubbin’ against me isn’t helping matters at all, y’know,” he tries to laugh but it comes out very dry.

satoru just wanted to be inside you, making you remember your place with a few sloppy strokes.

you giggled, hearing his pants and boxers sliiiide down to his ankles with a thud before jostling your rear way back against his leaning cock. it hung so cutely, and its tip was swollen with veins protruding at a few girthy sides.

with satoru still having a hold of your hand, he makes you touch the leaking head. “ooh,” you hum, twirling a thumb around his tender frenulum.

as you do so, he moans out the sluttiest moan, pretty white lashes squeezing shut for about three seconds to savor this moment.

“heh.. little girl,” he gutturally prowls, aligning his dick in between the crack of your fleshy mounds. it’s very hard, and you hummed at the warmth he provided. “go on then.. ride me in reverse, sweets. this the ride you wanted all along, hm?”

“yeaah,” you played along, almost seeing the weary smirk unfurl across his lips as he spoke.

you couldn’t wait any longer either.

you were throbbing persistently, every fiber of your being longing for satoru to ease his way inside of your pretty, sobbing cunt.

he was so big that your hand could barely wrap around the entity of his length. instantly, your palms met with various veins as you raised your hips moderately.

his vermillion-shaded tip carefully hovered over your dripping hole, and satoru’s just heavily breathing at your stilled body.

“mngh-” you released a rough, jagged breath once you were slowly making your way down on his cock.

like usual, you’re presented with that loving tiiiiight stretch that lasts for about a good four seconds.

satoru’s tip alone was big, and it pummeled through your insides as his inches started to leisurely disappear.

it’s such a lewd scene - a scene he wouldn’t mind replaying over ‘n over again in his head..

your pussy sings out sloshes of wet high notes in harmony, trying to take in his weighty shaft.

your mouth opens up on its own, and you’re breathing out colorful swears of ‘ohhh fuuuck’ ‘s as you continue to sink your way down.

from the both of you, countless breathy breaths were drawn from both raspy lungs as the mouthwatering penetration continued.

it felt like a squeeze pinching near your insides, tickling around you from the inside before adding pounds of pressure pressure pressure..

your hands go back to being placed on his knees, whimpering as his slick cock eases its way inside of your pussy. spongy, clamping walls hugged around him like a vice and your teeth were starting to feel that familiar chatter.

“god- always s- so fuckin’ big, ‘toru,” you moan, your bratty ‘lil façade shortly faltering once he’s finally buried balls fuckin’ deep.

the pit of your tummy was constantly heaving, cowardly sucking itself in and out at the sheer weight of his size before you eventually relaxed.

“perfect fit for my perfect… hah- girl.” he grunts, taking a quick peer down at your unbalanced thighs that struggled to move at first.

gradually, your hips started to move and greeted satoru’s lap with a sharp, rude slam. once you started to adapt to a rhythm, your hips rolled and rolled.

“agh- that’s i.. iiiiit,” he choked on his saliva, playing with the waist beads that danced against your torso as you moved.

satoru moans, feeling his fat base smush its way against your ass once you sat down. your hips were reeling, winding back into his pelvis like a wind-up toy.

with parched, hot skin amongst skin - the sounds echoed against the limo, nearly sounding over the music that played in the background.

satoru’s watching as you plop straight back into him before you sprightly wriggle your hips in a seductive circle.

“my, ain’t you a naughty girl..” he tosses his head back in overwhelming rapture, feeling his dick twitch inside you as the sloppy sounds continue.

it was hard not to hear - if it was anything satoru knew about your pussy, he knew that it was always, always vocal with him..

you’re slamming back against his lap every time, squeezing your palms against the crowns of his knees with your body twirling and falling back into his inviting lap.

if you kept riding him like that, he’d really be head over heels.

“ugh- yeah, girl. ride it, ride this dick like it’s yours because it fuckin’ is,” satoru grunts, feeling your cunt tighten for a second at his exact words. “heh- did my messy girl like that? like hearin’ that ‘m yours, sweetheart?”

“mhm,” you’d nod with your lips clamped shut.

he’s just so big, stretching through your insides with such ease. the once slow and steady beats of your heart were now thump thump thumping!

satoru’s bulbous-shaped tip had a hooked upturning curve, and fuck did you feel every sloping curve as you bounced up ‘n down on his cock.

it’s so good that your mouth’s pathetically watering from the inside, and you’re already starting to feel that burning sensation electrify through your aching, stretched muscles.

“mngh- look at this body, s… so damn-” and he pauses, clenching his jaw at the sloppy wet feeling of your barriers bear-hugging around his cock.

you’re just working your hips like it’s a full-time job, throwing them around in a circle so fast that even satoru could barely keep up.

with thighs upon thighs upon thighs, your skin sticks against his like glue. a trail of colorless slick smears down satoru’s leg and he moans at the loud slaps of zealous, clapping skin.

you’re sticky still, and he’s moaning louder once the speed of your hips quickens.

“yeah? yeah, better- fuckin’-ride-me,” and even though his voice faintly cracks, satoru still manages a sort of poised, cocky persona.

multiple ‘encouraging’ swats hit against the cheeks of your ass and you’re whining, putting your all into the movements of your jerking body. satoru’s snowy brows contort before he gives your waist beads a soft tug.

“do it, fuck me, baby. ‘n while you’re at it..” and as you’re still moving your hips, you feel a bit of paper rain down your back that’s starting to perspire with sweat.

“fuck-” satoru grunts smokily, staring as hundred dollar bills fall down your bare spine. “forgot ‘ta give you your allowance, might as well give it to you now.”

“hngh- satoruuu,” you whined, his cock hitting its way through every spot. it french-kisses near your clit before passionately making out with your cervix.

it located both spots easily, and the feeling had your toes curling inside of your four-inch heels.

satoru ended up tossing those same bills down your back, staring as it prettily fell down your body before landing on his lap and the limo’s cottony carpet.

“ ‘m gonna cum i think,” you moaned, slowing your turning hips in hypnotic, carnal arcs. satoru’s hands were brought to your waist with two thumbs pressed at each side of your hips. “ ‘m cummin’ satoru.”

“me too, s.. sweets,” he swallows, hissing silently at the unsteady bucking of your bouncing ass.

your rear jiggled at each slamming thrust, ricocheting against his thighs and it was just so mesmerizing to watch.

satoru’s feeling the scorching tip of his cock grow hot, and he’s starting to feel all types of contractions arise within his muscles. “god- tell me where to tell me where.”

“inside,” you moaned, bringing your hands toward your chest to cup to bouncing tits. you squeezed them, smearing a thumb around your hardened nipples before making yourself even more aroused.

it’s just so much to process.

your rutting hips, the loud squelches of your pussy, satoru’s dick driving through you repeatedly.. oh, you were in a daze.

“f- fuuuuck. be a… hah- good girl ‘n take it all then.” he groans, elated euphoria swelling within him.

you stuck against his lap so good, slickly sliding your ass back before going forward, then back into his pelvis again.

your movements alone left such a good taste in his mouth, and once he feels himself about to burst - he fuckin’ bursts.

a massive load spurts out of satoru, shooting deeply into your fluttering womb as your hips come to a freezing still.

you’re cumming too - whimpering as you’re gushing down on his cock while being absolutely filled.

wads ‘n wads of milky, gooey cum floods inside of you, plugging you to the fullest. you’re both moaning lowly, rocking against each other in rushed unison before you arch forward.

your ass was fully bent over, and satoru stared openly as he was still shooting such deep, frothy amounts inside of you.

you looked so pretty like this that he couldn’t help but mentally take a picture, widely peering at the foamy droplets of cum that started to trickle their way down his overwhelmed base—creating a sparkling white ring.

it’s still as thick - still as veiny, and satoru makes you raise your hips ever-so-slightly.

doing so, he stares at your soddened pussy that’s lewdly spitting out a few heaps of cum before hearing that cute wet ‘plop!’

“fuckin’ dirty girl..” he huffs, one hand softly caressing your waist beads. he takes a glance at the ‘G.S.’ initials that were engraved near the back side of the many other charms, and he sighs.

right as you’re pulled up to where his creamy tip was juuuust about to slide away from your soused opening, satoru gives your stuffed pussy a soft pat.

“don’t know who’s dirtier…. herrrr,” he mumbles, swabbing a thumb around your cum-covered hole before bringing it up to his mouth.

with a wet smacking ‘ccht’ of satoru’s lips coming together—he licks his thumb clean, cooing silently at the taste of himself like the filthy, filthy man he was. “or you.”

♡ ♡ ♡

after many, many positions, you found yourself losing multiple rounds with your shallow breath as if even breathing was a mere contest. he’s had you in position after position, folding you like a freshly baked pretzel. it’s almost like the two of you weren’t literally in a limousine.

you hoped his chauffeur nanami didn’t hear. that would’ve been well, embarrassing.

the drive felt like forever.. but, you honestly didn’t want it.. this to end.

you’re a mess, stuffed to the uttermost fullest with ribbons of satoru’s freshly hot cum messily tearing down every slick crevice of your thighs.

currently, satoru had you in one of his favorite positions.

doggy.

part of the reason why he loved it so much was mainly because of the perfect, jiggling view.

your ass - he loved seeing how it would react from each rude smack, swatting his palm over and over again at your cute, tender skin. the pads of your hands pressed firmly into the limo’s seats as he’s just giving you the pound of a damn lifetime.

“mngh!” you’d whine out, drooling from the sides of your jittery, spit-slick lips that refused to stay shut.

he’s effortlessly reaching all the right areas, swiftly pumping his way past that cute taut ring of your entrance that he’s grown to love.

that brief tight stretch nearly makes him lose his mind, and satoru then brings his hands toward your waist. “right there, right fuckin’ th— mmph!”

“shhh, you’re gonna.. hah- miss the best part, sweets,” the white-haired man cups a hand over your mouth.

slow strokes - deeper thrusts..

your eyes rolled ‘n rolled back, gasping against his palm once he sneaks a hand in between your wet thighs. with your waist beads tickling against his wrist, satoru gives your pussy a soft smack.

your wetness ‘splashes’ against the center of his hand, and it even pops out a cute sound too.

“uuugh- ‘m gonna… cum agaiiin,” you’d raise your ass in the air just a bit more, your voice turning more whiny within seconds.

your words were still a bit muffled with his hand covering your mouth, but he still made out your whiny, inaudible words—just barely. .

the sounds of fierce, sharp hips brutally clashing against skin every time made him groan. it’s a booming resounding ‘pop!’ or ‘pap!’ noise every time that makes your entire body ring instead of just your ears.

his cock’s searching through your wet, gripping walls as if it had some sort of life purpose.

“hah- me t.. too, sweetheart,” and fuck, satoru’s drowning in his sweat. “phew-” satoru brings the back of his wrist to wipe some from his forehead. glancing down, he stares at your jouncing ass before giving you one, snappingly deep thrust.

“pussy’s a fuckin’ workout- oh shiiiiit.” and satoru’s feeling you clamp clamp clamp down on him, giving his dick the work of its life.

you could feel the individual staticky pulses of your clit signaling messages to you that you’re just so close and you’re nearly salivating inside of your mouth.

soooo good.. for a moment you forgot the two of you were still in the back of a limousine.

he’s fucking you so good that you could barely think straight.

satoru’s still playing with your pussy, giving it spanks in between his robust thrusts.

his rotund tip beat red, an oxblood blush of red as he continued to ram a heart-shaped sloppy kiss toward your clit.

at that moment, your legs cutely retreated and your chest collapsed forward. “feels s.. sooo good satoru, ngh- ‘toruuu!”

as your body spasmed at the onslaught of his reckless, sloppy thrusts - your hips were all the way raised against his lap.

you’re losing track of thoughts as you’re harshly creaming down his shaft, murmuring out cute little babbles of ‘ooohs’ once you feel his angle deepen.

satoru brings a hand down your fleshy back, staring at your skin that was wetly decorated with sweat while studying the goosebumps that ran down your spine.

“ ‘m gonna.. hah- cum,” he groans, a few stubby fingers thrumming down the gold waist beads that wrapped around your waist.

he brings his thumb toward the tiny ‘G.S.’ initials before pressing his honed-shaped pelvis wholly into you with just a single, barbaric thrust.

“all mine, my pretty… hah- wife.”

wife?

you heard that — you definitely heard it, but part of you wondered if maybe satoru was just overly pussy drunk as usual.

but the thought alone - the thought of actually being his wife of satoru gojo, your sugar daddy, didn’t seem too bad.

as the image of you walking down the aisle crossed your mind, your throbbing brought you straight back into orgasmic reality.

“wait.. hnng- pull out,” you’d moan, another idea popping into your head. instead of satoru usually finishing inside, you had a better idea.

“haah- ‘kay,” he pants, his snapping hips working overtime as they continually mercilessly plunge deep into your heated core.

his rhythm was far slower, but his thrusts were always in such a hurried frenzy.

he’s close - so so close.

you’re still covered with his cum from before from the legs down, and it paints such a pretty canvas on you.

a lewd, erotic canvas maybe..

quickly, satoru ends up pulling out with a hand wrapped around his cock that painfully throbbed. it scrunched up a bit at the sudden coldness, already missing your clingy warmth before you flip over.

“h.. hm?”

“ ‘toru, put ‘em between here.” you spoke in a hushed tone, sinking your knees into the limo’s velveteen-made seats.

he hungrily stares at you with nothing but lust surrounding the entirety of his rounded, dilated pupils. at your sweet, breathy word of ‘here,’ you brought two hands up to your breasts.

“naughty… temptress,” satoru clicks his tongue. aligning his swollen dick in between the crack of your sweat-dripping chest, it easily sliiiiiides its way through.

he watches intently as you squeeze your tits together, glancing up at him with those pretty, siren eyes of yours that were starting to droop.

“mmh,” and as his tip disappears between the slot of your chest, you hang your head down, flicking your tongue across the tender slit of his shaft.

“f- fuck, ‘m gonna cum. can’t- hold it anymore, sweets,” satoru groans, his words so guttural ‘n low that they sounded almost like a growl.

he knew he wasn’t gonna last much longer, not when you were on your knees—stuffing his dick right between your perked tits.

he’s sloppily starting to thrust his cock in and out between the valley of your breasts and felt himself throb at each cute jounce they created amongst each other.

so …. soft.

satoru’s achy tip was forming into an angry shade of bloodshot red, and the entirety of his shaft was smoldering from the stimulation. after a few long milliseconds though—he finds himself shooting white blanks again.

he’s fucking between your tits as you held them together, spraying a nice sum of his load onto your chest. you gasp, a bit landing on your lip and you lick it.

satoru’s moaning - no, grunting as he’s finishing against your breasts. he drags a shaky hand through his tousled, white hair before letting off a deep, heavy sigh.

“ohhh… fuck,” he grumbles, the tips of his ears burning a fiery pink.

his limp cock now remains idle, still buried between your tits before you slide your tongue across the leaking creamed tip.

it’s so glossy, dribbling from all sides with his pasty mess plastered on the upper part of your chest. “didn’t know i had.. such a dirty sweethe- fuck.”

satoru pauses for theatrics — holding his breath, thinking he was still cumming, but he wasn’t.

his mind was simply playing tricks, and his jaw clenched once you lapped up the remnants of bittersweet tasting cum that splattered on you. you used your thumb to reach the spots your tongue couldn’t, and once you were finished, satoru bent down to pull you into a fervent, deep kiss.

you moaned against his lips as the limousine still created miles upon miles. you lost track of time, but you’d guess it’s probably been well over an hour's drive.

“mng-” satoru grunts into your lips, feeling your arms wrap around him. he still had his button-up shirt on the entire time along with his suit just above his torso. he’s tasting himself on your lips, grunting once he felt your hand tug on his ruffled black tie.

your tongue was sticky, swirling a circular pattern around the inside of his mouth before you sucked on his.

satoru allowed you to make him get underneath you, and he felt your legs crawling on top of him.

as you’re both still deeply making out — fighting each other with sharp slaps of teeth smacking against each other, you gingerly pull away.

“i’m your wife now?”

“h.. hm?”

“earlier,” you lick near the corner of his lip. “you said ‘m your pretty wife.”

satoru gives you a sleazy lopsided grin. he looked so pussy drunk that he almost forgot about that tiny piece of dialogue that spouted from his lips.

“ah, i did call you my wife, didn’t i, sweets?” and as a thumb caresses around your cheek, he hoarsely whispers. “well, do you want to be?”

bringing a wet, torrid kiss toward his bottom crooked lip, you hummed. “i do.”

“wish you would’ve told me sooner though,” he sheepishly says, giving his tie a few meek pulls. “i could’ve proposed the right way but.. this is fine too, i gues-.”

“shhh-” you silence him with yet another barrage of kisses, cupping his face.

satoru grunts, hearing the little jangles of your waist brands yet again as your hips laboriously swayed against him.

your forehead is pressed against his and its hit with a bunch of sweat from satoru.

satoru moans from your ardent, vehement kisses, his lips being left all plump, reddened, and not to mention swollen all because of you.

his dick twitches—a prominent vein striking near the left side as you steadily moved your dripping pussy against it in slow, ravishing rocks. “lie back,” you whispered, playfully pushing him back against the seat.

satoru reclines back with a ‘hmph’ and he raises a silvery brow at your audacity. “lie back ‘n let your fiancé ride you again.”

“heh.. yes, mrs. gojo.”

#★vegasbaby.#gojo smut #gojo x reader #gojo x you #gojo satoru smut #jujutsu kaisen smut #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #jjk smut #jjk x you #jjk #jujutsu kaisen #female reader #gojo satoru #satoru gojo #jujustsu kaisen x reader

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novaimperia · 12 days ago

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★ nerd!nanami x popular girl!reader getting dirty in a closet

“we shouldn’t do this,” nanami whispers.

rolling your eyes, you continue unbuckling his belt. his pants fall down his legs, revealing the Calvin Klein boxers you got him on a day which happened to be his birthday. you rub up on the bulge in his boxers. “you say that but, ken, you’re hard. have some shame, won’t you?”

as the most popular girl on campus, you have a reputation to uphold – no one can see you with the nerdiest guy around. always with a book and those stupid glasses that get in the way, nanami isn’t someone you want people knowing you’re fucking. and honestly, if you had it your way, he’d be thrown in the dust along with all the pathetic idiots you’ve let in your bed, but…nerdy as he is, he’s also really goot at sex.

he’s got a huge dick too.

“i can’t help that,” he grouches. “just leave first and i’ll come out soon; i need to wait for this to go down.”

clearly nervous, you can see, even in the dark, the way his eyes keep darting from your cleavage to the gap in the door. there’s a party happening out there and you have to go on your tiptoes to whisper in his ear just so you can be heard over the heavy bass, obnoxious chattering and whooping.

someone’s closet isn’t even the freakiest place you two have gotten it on – you’ve fucked in your car, in his, in a classroom, in the dean’s office, in a park, in the gym, under the bleachers, in the locker room, and so on and so forth.

yet he's always just as jittery as all the other times. one would think he's still a virgin if they didn't know all the nasty positions he'd folded you into.

“ngh! s-stop, please.”

shaky hands try to pull your hands away from his hard and leaking cock. his mouth isn’t very honest but thankfully his body is. already wet, you easily slot his cock in between your thighs, letting it rub on your slit. he moans through gritted teeth. fuck, he’s warm and firm and you can feel every vein on his long length. how unfair that this dick had gone so long without being used. thank god you're here now. he really ought to be more grateful.

“shush, kento. you can leave at any time and you know that, so cut the shit, and move your hips.” his forehead falls on top of your head. you feel his breath fan your face. hands gripping your hips, he keeps you still as he rocks back and forth, coating his cock in your juices. “good boy.”

he throbs.

in the cramped space, you two struggle to find a rhythm as you jostle around, trying to make the most of what you have. tightly packed together, you have no choice but to cling to his stupid vest. his heart beats fast under your cheek. cute.

his cock head catches on your clit and the friction is delicious. "hmm, just like that, ken. yeah, that's nice. you know just how i like my clit rubbed, don't you?"

breathless, he replies, "yeah."

annoyingly, his voice drops an octave into something seductive and sinful when he's in deep focus, which happens either when he's studying and scolds you for trying to get in his pants or when he's balls deep in your cunt and he's trying not to cum prematurely.

soon, with the party in full force and the crowd growing thicker and more drunken, he speeds up, unable to help himself. you’ve sprayed more perfume than usual today; it gets him whimpery when he can’t smell anything other than you. it's just one of the ways you like to make sure you're in control at all times.

“keep quiet, ken. you don’t want them to hear you, do you? you don’t want them to see you with your pants down and your pretty cock out, right?”

fingers dig into the fat of your ass cheeks through your skirt. your legs tighten and he groans, all choked up and needy as his pace increases until he’s rutting against your pussy with no rhyme or reason. “n-no. i don’t want them to see you like this either. i don’t want them to see your p-pussy or your pretty face when you orgasm. y-you’re mine.”

you sigh. that would be the sign to leave, to ditch the loser and move on, but ah, fuck, you’re close. any second now you’re going to cum all over his cock and you’ll make him clean you up.

maybe you’ll give him one more chance. he’s a quick learner after all.

“yeah, ken. i’m yours. now, make me cum.”

he grabs hold of your face and smashes his lips to yours. clumsily and messily, he kisses you, shoving his tongue in just to taste you. you forgot he likes to kiss right before he cums. guess you do too because, at the same time like some shitty cliche, you two shudder against each other, skin slapping and juices flying.

“oh, fudge! t-thank you. thank you so much.” he’s wrapping his arms around you, suffocating you with his chest. good thing he practices good hygiene and actually smell good. much better than some of the other guys around, that’s for sure. another reason why you keep his clingy ass around.

hot cum floods your panties and you curse the fact that you’ll have to dance with that mess between your legs.

“yeah, yeah. hurry up and get on your knees. you know i like to cum at least three times before i party.”

nanami also looks good with your juices on those plump lips of his, oh and you do like it when his glasses fog up and he looks dazed with your taste. hmm, for a nerd, he is quite pretty, especially when those blond locks of his get all messy after you’ve had your way with him. if only he'd be better dressed and would pick up a sport or two.

“you have an exam tomorrow – maybe we should -hah- study for that.” not wasting any time in worming his tongue into your hole, he expertly hikes up your thigh over his broad shoulder, pressing his face up tight against your pussy, uncaring of the fact that his cum is mixing on his tongue.

you roll your eyes. “ugh, fine. but we’re fucking in your car before and after, alright?”

he smiles. your heart squeezes.

“good girl.”

“w-whatever.”

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk drabble #jjk oneshot #nanami x reader #nanami smut #nanami drabble #nanami oneshot #nanami x you #jjk x you #jjk nanami #jjk nanami kento #jjk nanami smut #jjk nanami x reader

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derfisch · 8 months ago

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"source not concretely known" lmao

#yeah check out this cool car I found #no it's not mine I just took it #well the owner wasn't around so I just took it

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loveanddeepdick · 8 months ago

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ᯓ★ babydaddy!toji would never admit that he got jealous when you were around guys your age. he’d never get insecure, no, but he felt a deep pang of jealously in his chest. like he prayed that he had been born later so he could be more similar to you. your relationship with him was complicated. you were dating on and off but finally just settled as friends with benefits (who took care of a ridiculously cute baby together).

your parents often asked you why you dated a guy who was less than a decade away from being your father. your friends did the same too, not seeing the appeal in being with a “broke old man”. you never understood why toji just scoffed and looked away. it was out of character since he’d usually just cuss people out.

babydaddy!toji who let his jealousy show a little too much when you ran into an old high school friend of yours while you were out shopping. toji had to piss and you were waiting outside when he came up to you. shit, you didn’t even recognize him at first and the conversation was merely small talk but when toji came out, he had his arm around your waist, his hands coming down a little too low.

“this is your uh.. boyfriend, yeah?”, you friend asked, his eyes immediately going to the hand on your waist. most people just assumed you were single again.

“you could say that..”, you sheepishly replied, trying to swat toji’s hand away.

“tsk why’re you acting like i didn’t just dick you down and you didn’t carry my baby, ma? course you’re mine”, toji scoffed, looking away.

your eyes dart from your friend’s to his and it finally clicked. he was jealous. with a small smile, you excused yourself and tugged on the hem of toji’s shirt, signaling him to walk out to his car. the walk there was filled with short protests from him and silence from you. of course, he didn’t mean it, he loved this kind of attention from you. as you got to his car you rummaged through his pants pocket to grab his keys—not being shy to graze his dick—and unlocked the car.

babydaddy!toji who’d never admit he was jealous, even when you two were making out in the middle of a mall parking lot with your hand on his crotch.

“admit it, you still—ah, you still love me and you were jealous”

“course i fuckin love you—fuck yeah,keep your hand there—we’re long over, ma. didn’t you say we were just friends with benefits?”

“you’re avoiding the question, toji”

he had his hands all over you at this point, tugging at your shirt but you pulled away and furrowed your eyebrows.

“admit that you were jealous, old perv”

“fuck—fine. i was jealous. i hate seeing you with men younger than me. makes me feel old. happy now, doll?”, he leaned in again, grabbing your face as you kissed back with a smirk.

“yeah, i’m elated”, you grinned, trailing your hand up to play with his dark happy trail and dipping it in his sweatpants.

“don’t be a fuckin brat, ma. m’gonna give you a second snotty little shit if you keep this up”, toji growled, trailing open-mouthed kisses down your neck and onto your collarbone

“yeah?“, you smirked, tangling your fingers in his hair as you guided him down, “keep that promise and maybe we’ll get married”

babydaddy!toji who was definitely going to take you in the backseat for hours. fuck driving home.

babydaddy!toji who nearly died at the spot from the news of you being pregnant not with just one baby, but twins. you ended the year with a ring and a freshly painted nursery.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader smut #toji fushiguro #jjk toji #toji x reader #toji smut #toji x reader smut #i want him #CAN HE GET ME PREGNANT #rina thinking 📝

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inkandapex · 3 months ago

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through the lens — drive to survive moments

Lando Norris x Y/N

Summary : The cameras may be there for Formula 1, but somehow, they keep capturing them. From playful bickering in the paddock to wholesome moments in McLaren’s garage, from Y/N’s growing fan club to Lando’s exaggerated jealousy, Drive to Survive unknowingly turns their love story into a viral sensation—one chaotic moment at a time.

Words : 3.6k

Warnings : swearing

Friends turned Rivals Lovers

The camera focuses on Lando, settled in the driver’s seat, before shifting to the seat behind him. Just beside the cameraman, Max F is seen scrolling through his phone.

“Max is pouty because he usually sits in the passenger seat,” Lando quips, drawing the camera’s attention back to him. A glimpse of his cheeky grin is visible from his side profile.

Reaching over the passenger seat, Lando rests a hand on her thigh. Max chuckles softly. “Bit more legroom up front.”

The scene cuts to Lando, now sat in a studio. From behind the camera, a voice cuts in. “You’ve been a hot topic this off-season. Any updates you want to share?”

Lando leans back in his chair, fixing his hair as he readies himself for the interview segment of Drive to Survive.

"What makes you say that?" A shy smile creeps onto his face just before the screen transitions to a montage of headlines and social media posts.

"Lando Norris seen kissing mystery girl in his Ferrari" "Lando Norris and mystery girl spotted driving around Monaco" "Mystery girl identified—longtime friend Y/N L/N" "Friends to Lovers? The true identity of McLaren driver Lando Norris'new girlfriend"

Lando nods with a smile. “Y/N and I have been friends for a long time. Finally found the guts to ask her to be mine.”

“Are you the romantic type?”

He chuckles, shrugging. “You’d have to ask her.”

The scene transitions to the paddock, where Lando walks hand-in-hand with Y/N, her bag slung over his arm. Max trails beside them, hands in his pockets. The trio makes their way into McLaren’s hospitality, settling at a free table tucked away in the corner, away from the crowd.

Y/N takes a sip of her smoothie before glancing at Lando. “Excited for today? First practice of the season.”

Lando looks up from his phone, nodding. “Yeah, feeling pretty good. Car felt good during testing—hope it translates well throughout the season.”

“Think he’s more nervous about the fact that you’ll be here watching,” Max teases, a smirk playing on his lips.

Y/N laughs softly. “I’ve been to races before, you know.”

“Yeah, but not as his girlfriend. Now he’s got to win for the team and to show off for you.”

“You dick,” Lando chuckles, grabbing a straw wrapper and tossing it at Max, who dodges it with a grin.

Lando glances at his watch, letting out a soft sigh before pushing his chair back. “Alright, I gotta go get ready.”

Max leans back in his chair, nodding. “We’ll be in the garage before you head out.”

Lando grabs Y/N’s bag from the table, slinging it over his shoulder. “Let’s go, baby.”

Y/N blinks up at him, confused. “Am I not staying with Max?”

Lando shrugs, a small smirk on his lips. “You could… but I want you with me while I get ready. Your choice.”

Y/N smiles and stands up, slipping her hand into Lando’s. Max groans dramatically. “I can’t believe it. I’ve been benched. I’ve lost my WAG status.”

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

Air Max

Lando holds up his phone, the camera capturing the view outside Max Verstappen’s private plane. His team had arranged with Drive to Survive to give Netflix a small peek into his life outside the paddock. Now, he’s tasked with filming parts of his day—something he’s getting used to but still isn’t entirely comfortable with.

The camera shifts, panning around the cabin before zooming in on Max and his girlfriend, who sit across from each other, faces buried in their phones.

“Look at these two… they’ve been like this since we took off,” Lando murmurs, walking closer while keeping the camera focused on them. He tilts the screen toward their hands, revealing the game they’re both locked into—a racing simulator. Neither of them spares him a glance.

“We asked you to join, mate,” Max chuckles without looking up.

Lando plops down beside Y/N, setting the camera down at an angle that captures all three of them. He starts poking her cheek, then her side, trying to get her attention.

“Lan. I swear, if I lose—”

“—Of course you will. You’re racing against Max.”

“She’s actually pretty good, you know,” Max chimes in, eyes still glued to his phone.

Before Lando can tease again, Y/N suddenly shrieks, making him flinch. She drops her phone onto the table, leaning back in her seat with a dramatic groan of defeat.

“What did I say, baby?” Lando laughs, nudging her shoulder.

But Y/N is already sitting back up, snatching her phone with urgency. “One more, Max. Come on, let’s go. This is the one—I can feel it.”

Lando groans, throwing his head back. “Y/N, baby, please. Let’s watch a movie, take a nap, something.”

“In a bit, Lan, I need to beat Max.”

Max smirks, finally looking up at Lando with a teasing glint in his eye. “Sorry, mate. I win.”

"We're flying commercial next time"

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

I'm just here for the coffee

The Drive to Survive camera crew catches up with Lando as he wraps up media duties alongside Oscar in McLaren hospitality. He’s distracted—eyes constantly scanning the room, phone in hand, thumb hovering over the screen as he checks it every few seconds. His expression shifts between mild frustration and confusion.

Just as he exhales sharply, about to shove his phone into his pocket, a familiar voice calls out.

"Lando!"

Max F calls out, relief on his face as he finally spots his friend sitting by the doors. Lando strides towards him, but before he can even greet them, Max speaks again.

"Oh, I thought Y/N would be with you. I've been trying to reach her for hours now."

Lando’s brows furrow, holding up his phone.

"I’ve been trying to call her too. I thought she was with you."

The realization hits him like a switch flipping. His expression drops into something between disbelief and sheer irritation. He exhales, shakes his head, and lets out a knowing scoff.

"I might know where she is."

Cue the most dramatic yet comedic smash cut imaginable.

Ferrari Hospitality – Where Y/N Has Been the Entire Time.

The camera immediately cuts to Y/N, relaxed and unbothered, seated at a table inside Ferrari hospitality. The atmosphere is lively, filled with laughter as they sip espresso, surrounded by Carlos, Charles, and their girlfriends. The Ferrari logo gleams proudly in the background, almost mocking.

Y/N leans forward, grinning at something Carlos just said, stirring their coffee absentmindedly. Charles adds a comment that earns another round of laughter. It’s the picture of comfort—warm, inviting, and clearly where Y/N has been all along.

Then, in the background, the doors swing open.

The camera follows Lando as he steps inside, expression unreadable—until the dramatic zoom-in captures the very moment.

"Unbelievable."

Lando’s voice cuts through the laughter, making the entire table turn their heads toward him. The easygoing chatter dies down as he strides over, hands on his hips, phone still clutched in one hand. His brows are furrowed—confused, mildly exasperated, and very much not amused.

"Baby, Max and I have been calling you."

Y/N blinks before reaching into their bag, finally checking their phone. The screen lights up with multiple missed calls. A sheepish smile tugs at their lips as they glance back up at Lando.

"Oops? Sorry, Lan. I had my ringer off."

Charles smirks, leaning back in his chair. "She’s been having a great time with us, mate."

Lando squints at him before turning back to Y/N. "How long have you been here?"

Before Y/N can even open their mouth, Carlos chimes in.

"Actually, quite late today. She came an hour later than usual."

Lando blinks. Processes. "Later than usual?" His gaze snaps back to Y/N, his confusion shifting into shock. "How often are you here?!"

Y/N, fully caught now, shrugs, setting their coffee down.

"I mean… almost every media day? You’re busy filming, and their coffee is really good here so I just—"

Lando groans, rubbing his face. "Oh baby…"

Before he can spiral further, Rebecca—clearly enjoying the moment—leans in with a grin. "Show Lando what Carlos and Charles gave you!"

Y/N shoots her a betrayed side-eye, but it’s too late. Lando’s eyes widen slightly as he looks between them. He nods at Y/N, expectantly.

Y/N sighs, reaching back into their bag. With hesitant hands, they pull out a very red Ferrari cap and place it on the table.

Silence.

Lando stares.

Alex, grinning, decides to throw more fuel into the fire. "You could’ve at least signed it for her."

"Oh shit—yeah." Charles grabs the cap, immediately patting down his pockets for a pen. He looks around helplessly before turning to Lando.

"Do you have a Sharpie?"

Lando blinks. His eye twitches.

"Do I—" He stops himself, inhales deeply, then exhales, running a hand down his face.

"Okay. We’re leaving. Come on."

Y/N barely has time to protest before Lando takes their hand and starts walking. "But— baby no my coffee..."

"I'll get you your own coffee machine"

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

A victory in full bloom

It’s the moment Lando’s been dreaming of his entire career: his first-ever Formula 1 race win. The podium ceremony is over, and he’s just wrapped up celebrating with his team, taking photos and soaking in the victory. The Netflix crew trails him closely, hoping to catch a quick statement from the new race winner. But Lando’s not focused on the cameras or interviews—his mind is set on finding someone. He’s been eager to celebrate with Y/N.

As he walks towards the trailers, his eyes scan the area until they land on her. There she is, standing by his trailer with a small bouquet of flowers in hand. Lando stops dead in his tracks, his breath catching in his chest for a moment. A wide smile spreads across his face as he takes in the sight of her, the bouquet a simple yet perfect gesture for this milestone moment.

Y/N looks up and meets his gaze, a soft smile tugging at her lips. It’s clear she’s been waiting for him. "Hey champ"

Lando’s eyes light up when he sees them, his smile growing even wider. He’s still buzzing from the excitement of the win, but this moment feels different—more personal.

Lando is grinning from ear to ear "What’s this? For me?"

Y/N shyly holds the bouquet out towards him, a soft smile on her face. "Yeah... It's not the best, but it's the only one I could get my hands on at such short notice."

Lando doesn’t hesitate for a second. He sets his trophy down on the ground, his attention entirely on the flowers in her hands. He takes the bouquet from her gently, inspecting it with a look of pure joy on his face. The smile never leaves as he admires the thoughtful gesture.

Y/N flinches slightly when she hears the clink of the trophy being set down. “Oh, Lan, don’t just leave it on the floor—”

Before she can even move to pick it up, Lando pulls her into a tight, elated hug, careful not to crush the flowers between them.

“These are beautiful, my love. Thank you,” he whispers against her ear, his voice full of affection. “God, I love you. You’re the best, you know that, right?”

Y/N, caught in the warmth of the moment, smiles softly, her heart racing. Lando’s arms around her feel like the perfect celebration of everything they’ve worked for together.

"I'm so proud of you, Lan, my race winner," Y/N says softly, planting a gentle kiss on his cheek.

Lando lets out a quiet laugh, glancing over her shoulder and catching sight of one of the camera crew members standing off to the side, clearly eager to capture the intimate moment. His smile widens, but then, with a mischievous glint in his eye, he pulls away from her and takes her hand firmly in his.

"Alright, you vultures," he calls out playfully to the crew, his tone teasing as he begins to walk away with Y/N in tow. "Go film someone else now."

Lando walks off, his stride confident and relaxed, one hand holding the bouquet Y/N gave him, the other wrapped around her hand. His focus is entirely on her as they move down the paddock together, the world around them momentarily fading away.

"Lando the trophy!"

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Fan Favourite

The cameras follow Lando and Y/N as they stroll hand in hand through the paddock, stopping every few meters to greet excited fans. It’s a typical moment for them, with Lando taking his time to chat and take photos with the crowd, but today, there’s a certain energy in the air that the fans—especially the ones around them—seem to feed off of.

Y/N stands to the side, watching with a smile as Lando interacts with a group of young fans. One fan, in particular, catches his attention. She’s holding a small, handmade friendship bracelet, her hands slightly trembling with excitement.

Lando’s smile widens as he notices the bracelet. He looks at the fan and gestures toward it with a raised eyebrow, "That’s really pretty. Is that for me?"

The fan's eyes go wide, her mouth opening and closing as she tries to form words. Finally, she manages a shy reply, "Oh, uh... actually, it’s for Y/N. If you could give it to her, please?"

Lando lets out a lighthearted laugh, realizing his mistake, a blush creeping up his neck. He turns over his shoulder, calling out to Y/N with a playful tone, "Love, c’mere. They wanna say hi."

Y/N steps forward, smiling warmly as she walks towards them. But before she even gets close, a few of the girls in the group let out high-pitched squeals, and Lando, hearing the reaction, pauses mid-step. He turns around to face the group, his jaw dropping in mock surprise. “Right, calm down,” he teases, raising an eyebrow. "It's almost like you're more excited to meet her than me!"

The fans giggle, some blushing, while Y/N smiles with a soft laugh, taking the bracelet from the fan’s outstretched hand. Lando, now with a playful smirk, shakes his head, clearly enjoying the teasing moment.

Y/N immediately slips the bracelet onto her wrist, admiring it with a bright smile. “This is so pretty! Thank you so much, you guys are the sweetest.”

Before she can say anything else, another fan eagerly steps forward, holding out a small crocheted cat dressed in what looks suspiciously like Lando’s helmet.

“I got you this as well!” the fan beams.

Y/N gasps, carefully taking the little plushie into her hands. “Oh my gosh! Is this supposed to be Lando?” She turns it over, inspecting the tiny details, from the pattern of the helmet to the little number on its side. “This is adorable—you guys…” Her voice softens, and she clutches the cat close to her chest, looking at the group with a touched expression, lips forming a small pout.

Lando, standing off to the side, watches with a fond smile, his heart swelling as he sees how naturally she interacts with his fans. He doesn’t even realize how long he’s been staring until Y/N turns to him, stretching out her arm with her phone in hand.

“Lan, baby, take a photo of us, please?”

Lando blinks, snapping out of his daze. He lets out a chuckle before taking the phone from her hand. “Yeah, yeah—sorry, got a bit distracted there.”

After snapping a few more photos and sharing a couple more laughs, Y/N and Lando exchanged their final goodbyes with the fans before continuing their stroll toward the McLaren garage.

Y/N glanced down at the bracelet on her wrist, still admiring the thoughtful gift, while Lando walked beside her, hands in his pockets, a playful pout forming on his lips.

"Can't believe I gotta share my girlfriend with my fans now," he muttered dramatically, shaking his head.

Y/N let out a soft laugh, bumping her shoulder against his. "Oh, come on, don’t act like you don’t love it," she teased.

Lando sighed, pretending to be exasperated. "I mean, I was the main attraction. Now they’re out here squealing over you and giving you gifts." He shot her a look, but the corners of his lips twitched, betraying his amusement.

Y/N smirked, holding up the tiny crocheted cat. "Jealous?"

Lando scoffed, but his eyes flickered down to the plushie, and he hummed in fake thought. “Depends... do I get one in return?”

Y/N grinned. "Maybe if you win the race this weekend."

Lando groaned, tilting his head back. “So now I have to earn your love? This is outrageous.”

Y/N just giggled, slipping her hand into his, swinging it slightly as they walked. “You love the challenge, Norris.”

He sighed, squeezing her hand. “Yeah... yeah, I do.”

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P's new favourite

Lando’s relationship with Max Verstappen’s stepdaughter, Penelope, had always been a good one. Between race weekends and off-season meetups in Monaco, he saw her often, and they had their own little bond.

But ever since he started dating Y/N, it seemed like P had a new favorite.

Just before heading to the garage, Lando stood outside McLaren hospitality, casually chatting with his mom, a few friends, Kelly, and P—who, instead of paying attention to the conversation, was entirely focused on showing Lando her collection of stickers.

Lando’s smile softens as he looks down at the little girl, carefully pressing the sticker onto his fireproofs. “For me?” he asks, feigning surprise. “Thank you, P.”

“Bye, Lando!” P grins, bouncing on her heels before giving him a high five, which quickly turns into a hug.

Lando barely has time to wrap his arms around her before she suddenly gasps dramatically, pulling away as fast as she had latched onto him. Without a second thought, she bolts in the opposite direction.

“Y/N!”

The camera follows her path, cutting to Y/N just as she arrives. A wide smile spreads across her face as she kneels down, arms open and ready for impact.

P barrels straight into her, nearly knocking her over as she wraps her tiny arms around Y/N in a tight hug.

Y/N lets out a small laugh, steadying herself. “Hi, P! I love your hair—you look so pretty!”

P quickly pulls back, twirling proudly to show off her outfit. “Lando said he liked my hair too!” she exclaims.

Y/N gasps, playing along. “Well, if Lando said it, then it must be true.”

P giggles before Y/N takes her small hands in hers. “Alright, come on then, let’s go say goodbye to Lando.”

As they make their way back toward the group, Kelly watches them with a knowing smile. “She literally pulled away from Lando’s hug just to run to you,” she muses, shaking her head with amusement.

Lando lets out a dramatic sigh, crossing his arms. “Yeah, my family does the same thing when I bring her home with me.”

Cisca, who had been standing off to the side, bursts into laughter, nodding in agreement. “It’s true.”

“Hi, baby. I’m about to head off. I’ll see you after,” Lando murmurs, stepping in close to press a soft kiss to Y/N’s lips before pulling her into a tight hug.

Before Y/N can even melt into the embrace, a small but determined voice interrupts.

“Okay, bye now, Lando.”

P, eyes set with purpose, marches forward and starts pushing Lando away with her tiny hands.

Lando lets out a laugh, barely stumbling back before crossing his arms over his chest. “Excuse me? Am I not even allowed to kiss my girlfriend goodbye now?”

“She’s mine!” P announces proudly, wrapping her arms around Y/N in a possessive hug.

Y/N laughs, running a gentle hand over the little girl’s head. “Alright, missy, I think Lando gets the message loud and clear.” She glances at Lando with a teasing smile before blowing him a kiss. “I’ll see you later, my love. Good luck and be safe.”

Lando sneaks in a quick peck to her cheek before jogging off, grinning. “I’ll be back to take my girlfriend back, P! Watch over her for me!”

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