#i just really like this string of messages
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The Price of the Podium
Pairing: Max Verstappen x Reader
Summary: In the relentless pursuit of racing glory, Max faces the emotional fallout of missing an important weekend in his relationship, leaving your future uncertain.
1.5k words / Masterlist
Max's heart raced as the engine of his RedBull roared beneath him. The familiar hum had become a source of comfort, a steady rhythm that guided him through countless laps and countless victories. But today it felt different—a harbinger of an approaching storm that threatened to dismantle everything he held dear.
The season had been merciless. Each race had been a relentless pursuit of perfection, each lap a battle against time and competitors. Max understood that this world demanded sacrifices but lately the weight of those sacrifices had become different.
When Max glanced at his phone during a fleeting moment of respite his stomach dropped as a surge of guilt swept over him. A string of missed calls and urgent messages from you filled the screen, each one more desperate than the last.
Hey, can you please call me when you get a chance? I need to talk to you.
Max, you’re really starting to worry me. I don’t understand what's going on?
It��s been three days since we spoke properly. Can you at least let me know you’re okay?
Max’s gaze fell on the calendar, he had promised again to visit your extended family this weekend a significant step for you both that had been previously filled with excitement and anticipation. Your family were eager to meet him, and Max had been looking forward to it as well. But now, with the punishing schedule of the season, he was struggling to find even a moment to breathe, let alone make the trip.
He knew he was being a coward, but it was easier to avoid the situation than confront it directly and risk letting down the person who mattered most.
As Max approached the racetrack for another testing session, the weight of his choices hit him like a sledgehammer. He was about to miss an important milestone in your life together and he didn't think you'd be so forgiving this time.
His mind was full of conflicting emotions. He wanted to be there for you, to prove to your family that he was serious about your relationship. But the world of racing had a way of consuming everything in its path leaving no room for personal commitments.
The testing session was a blur. Max’s driving was flawless, but his thoughts were elsewhere. The track blurred into an endless ribbon of asphalt. He pushed himself to the limit, hoping that the adrenaline would drown out the guilt gnawing at his conscience.
Finally, the session ended. Max’s team were in high spirits celebrating the improved performance. He barely registered their enthusiasm, his mind was occupied with the image of you waiting for him in a small town, wondering why he had not shown up. He could picture you there, waiting for him, checking the clock, wondering if he’d even bothered to leave. And it wasn’t just about this weekend—it was about every missed call, every text he hadn’t answered, every promise he’d let slide.
The moment Max stepped out of the car he took a deep breath and pulled out his phone. He dialed your number hoping against hope that you would answer. After a few rings your voice came through the line tinged with weariness and frustration.
“Max?”
“Hey, I’m so sorry. I know I’ve been out of touch.”
“Out of touch? You’ve been completely absent! I was supposed to introduce you to my family this weekend. It was important to me.”
“I know. I wanted to be there, but things just got out of hand here. I’ve been trying to make time, but…”
“But what Max? You keep saying you’re trying, but you’re never here. There's always an excuse.”
“I’m really sorry, I’ve been working so hard this season...I thought I could make it work, I just…”
“You know what? I don’t want to hear more excuses right now. You’ve missed something important to me again, and it hurts. I needed you here, and you weren’t.”
The silence on the other end of the line was heavy, almost unbearable. Max could feel the pain that you were struggling to mask, like a knife twisting in his gut. It cut him deeper than any criticism he’d ever faced on the track.
“Please. I know I messed up, I’ll make it up to you, I swear.”
“Make it up to me? I don’t even know if that’s possible anymore. This wasn’t like the other times when you just forgot or lost track of time; you made the choice not to come. I’ve tried to be understanding—I know how hard this season has been, and I know how much time and dedication it takes. I never wanted to undermine that. But I don’t know how much longer we can do this. I get it, you have to make tough choices sometimes, and I’ve done my best to support you, to step back and let you focus on your goals. But it’s happening too often now, and it feels like every time, you’re choosing this..this life over us. Over me. Every single time.”
Max’s throat tightened. He wanted to argue, to explain more, but he also knew that he couldn't keep making excuse for his absence, and he couldn’t bear to hurt you anymore. He’d run out of explanations, out of promises he knew he couldn’t keep. He wanted to say something, anything to fix it, but he could hear the finality in your voice. You’d reached a breaking point, one he’d seen coming but had been too afraid to acknowledge.
“I don’t know what to say,” he finally whispered, the words feeling hollow even as he spoke them.
The silence stretched on.
“I understand if you need space.” he murmured, barely able to get the words out, blinking back tears.
Your voice was barely a whisper throat locking up, it felt like he was giving up. Was this even worth fighting for if he wasn't?
Then, in a voice so small it broke his heart all over again, you whispered,“You’re right. Maybe space is what we need right now.'
The line went dead, leaving Max alone in the garage. The celebration of the session’s success felt hollow. The echoes of the track still rang in his ears mingling with the ache of your absence.
In the days that followed Max tried to bury himself in the upcoming races, hoping that the endless rush would drown out the regret gnawing at him. He avoided reaching out to you honouring your request for space. Each day felt like an endless rotation of driving, media commitments, and sleepless nights. The thrill of racing was overshadowed by the growing distance between you and him.
You had always been patient and understanding of the demands of Max’s career. You had supported him through the highs and lows, celebrating his victories and comforting him through the losses, but it hadn’t been enough. Each missed call and unanswered message chipped away at your resolve. You couldn’t keep repeating the same cycles and expecting a different result. The weekend you had planned for Max to meet your family was meant to be a milestone, a step toward a future together. Instead, it felt like a crushing disappointment.
You replayed the conversations you had with Max in your mind, trying to reconcile the man you loved with the absence he had become. You had pictured this weekend as a chance for Max to understand the importance of your family, to see the life you had outside of his world. The hurt and frustration you felt were compounded by a growing sense of doubt—doubt that maybe this life of constant motion had created a rift too wide to bridge.
You needed time to process the hurt, to focus on yourself and figure out where to go from here. The support you had hoped for seemed distant and unreliable, and the future you had envisioned together felt uncertain.
Loving him had been a beautiful dream, but you knew it was time, you hesitated just a moment before hitting send.
Max,
I need you to know that I’m not angry anymore. I’m just… tired. I need to focus on myself right now.
You
Max read the message over and over, his hands trembling. The message was brief and seemingly final. The reality of your words sank in, there was no dramatic declarations, no harsh accusations, just a simple statement of exhaustion, a quiet resignation that tore through him. He wanted to call, to beg you to come back, but he knew it was too late.
As the season drew to a close, Max stood on the podium, the roar of the crowd a distant echo, his gaze searching as if somehow he’d see you there. The trophy was in his hands, but it didn't feel like he had expected. He looked out over the crowd searching for a sense of fulfilment that seemed to elude him, it all felt like ashes without you beside him.
Max only thought of you as he stood amidst the celebrations, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that in the pursuit of his dreams he had sacrificed something far more precious, and wondered if there was a path back to what he had lost.
#max verstappen#max verstappen x reader#f1 x reader#f1#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen masterlist#max verstappen x you#f1 imagine#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen fic#max verstappen angst
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hello
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living in the inbetween hell where I dont hate or love ttpd enough to agree with anyone on the dash so im just sort of flinching whenever I see a post about it from any side
#barry.txt#taylor swift#im not disappointed bc i didnt have the highest expectations for ttpd#but im also not wowed#a lot of the songs are fun and interesting but the writing on most of these tracks structurally is hanging by a thread#a lot of the rhyme schemes are bizarre and awkward#in my least favorite taylor style where it feels like shes barely stringing them together into these sort of purple prose poems#where she really just wants to fit in words she likes to the detriment of the lyric itself#a lot of jacks production feels unfinished and unimpactful esp compared to waht we know he can do#it feels like a lot of interesting songs that only got like one or two drafts before getting recorded#and it just doesnt hook me#however i do like the songs other ppl hate#and i love that she gave a massive middle finger to the fandom even if its 100% not going to stick#and i love florence and a lot of the second album#i like i hate it here even if its weird and bad#i dont think its her most honest vulnerable or human album but it is her vent-iest like shes just letting it all out#idk#i hope she wraps up eras ant the TVs and then takes a looooong break and does intensive therapy and gets into TTRPGs and chills#anyway the black dog and the manuscript and clara bow best tracks. my final message#probably not bc j have so much to say but
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If you’re not taking the time to read my tags, then my condolences on missing some banger comedy gold ✨
#I write entire paragraphs of tags ya’ll#I recite the most unhinged string of words down here#and I just really don’t feel that’s appreciated enough#I look forward to reading people’s tags#it’s like a little surprise in every post#because you already liked the content enough to reblog#but what’s this?#BONUS CONTENT WITH THE STEEL CHAIR#does no one else appreciate this art form?#I feel like I’m preserving an endangered art or something#also if you made it this far into my tags you’re a real one#leave me a little message I can enjoy~
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*taps mic* *lean in* opinions on trans hunter? 👀
ok so this is a bit of a difficult one so i apologise if it gets longwinded because i do want to try and be as clear as possible but TL;DR: because of my heavily fanon interpretation of hunter, i worry about contributing to the fetishization of transmen
the long version:
Preface no. 1: i am not trying to say that trans men cant be subs
Preface no. 2: i am not trying to say that personality necessarily has an influence on sexual role preferences
BUT.
the previous fandom i was in (arcane) did this funny thing where they tied [Being A Sub] to [Being A Trans Man] like it was some kind of absolute package deal, and they did this on a character who had no canon basis for it. people were literally changing his personality to be more submissive alongside their trans headcanon. it was as if by way of being trans he also had to be a sub, and that was just the way it was. i hope i dont have to explain how weird that is.
my worry here goes like this: specifically in regards to a headcanon that has no canon basis (woefully, pillow princess!hunter came to me in a vision and exclusively exists in my head separate from the show) i worry that, like with arcane, attempting to impose both at the same time onto a character such as hunter (preface 2 but points at arcane phenomena) it implies that i think being a sub and being a transman goes hand-in-hand, which i very much don't want people to think as that is fetishization.
i Do like trans headcanons, and i Do like the idea of trans hunter, but simultaneously i feel like it meshes weirdly with all the pillow princess talk n the shit i get up to on this blog because of what happened with arcane viktor / [exaggeratedly subby transmen when theyre not like that in the show at all] (preface 2 but points at arcane phenomena), and i dont want to contribute to a similar sort of deal here. that being said if you have ideas that bypass all these worries and pitfalls im all ears
#headscratch this could be solved by doing more dom/neutral role leaning trans hunter Alongside trans subby stuff but like.#unfortunately dom/neutral leaning hunter just isnt that entertaining to me#perhaps in the future if ive built up a more respectable gallery re: variety role leanimgs but alas right now i worry about#what it might imply about trans men and what sort of message people might take away#bc with arcane it really just started with a handful of people and then through a terrible string of broken telephone lead to uh. All That#and is also part of the reason why i left that fandomspace because it was literally so balls to exist in#sigh arcane fandom not only built something terrible but they razed my poor League-canon vikjayce ecosystem to the ground to do it#anyways. sorry this is unhelpful#again if you have ideas im all ears#.txt#reply
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rrgghhhtfhehggghgh i hate my hands i hate my reaction time i hate it so bad i cant fucking play songs over 150 bpm cuz my brain cant fucking register it im gonna rip the strings off my guitar with my teeth
#its so hard to hold back from breaking these strings cuz thats a really embarrassing text message to send to my guitar teacher#whos been so gd patient with my angry ass for this past month while i struggle to play a singular song with two whole parts#salt creek? you cant play salt creek? fucking salt creek?? salt cr#its the strings being played over and over again. i cant move fast enough. i just cant no matter how many times i play it i always fuck it u#at least im better than i was. 2 weeks ago i couldnt get to fucking 120 bpm#like i get playing half time is hard but still. i think im just a fucking dumbass#personal i guess
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Now for the final round!
@hellsitegenetics
I love them
I didn't know I needed to know that the weed-smoking girlfriends post was genetically a wolf, but I did, and I do. Also puts great stuff on my dash.
it’s so fun to be scrolling unhinged posts and then boom. an organism!
so many moths‼ also, unexpected comedy with some of the matches
perfect blend of silly and informative, and makes for an excellent punchline at the end of a long post. puts creatures on my dash. literally what more could you ask for
It's a really unique blog concept and a lot of times the results are pretty funny. It's great when the sequence matches the post content too!
Creatures 👍
Finds beautiful creatures out of the mess of the hellsite
Offers finality AND gives us a creechur.
I love them. English speakers talk like moths
If this blog wins, they could run the text of the winning announcement, and determine the post's genus and species!
They're also very good about tagging the type of creature depicted in the results, so as long as you mute tags of creatures you don't want to see, it's a very fun time seeing iconic legacy posts (and new submissions) being reduced down to a string of letters and assigned a random species of fish or moth or something!
uhh it’s cool
BLAST
There are so many weird bugs in the world
Yippee!!
If, as Haldane said, God has an inordinate fondness for beetles, then surely this blog proves that Tumblr has an inordinate fondness for moths.
Top tier blog as a geneticist, I love seeing obscure organisms and MOTH
Admin got rate limited after trying to blast the bee movie
the knowledge of biology to pull this off (i have taken one biology class in my life) and also the work to find all the strings honestly deserves quite a bit of praise
This gimmick blog has it all: science, pictures of animals, interaction with the text of other peoples' posts, interesting information, and a unique and fun premise. As a biologist, I'm rooting for hellsitegenetics to reach the end and take the tournament, because it is truly a standout among gimmick blogs.
If they win, perhaps this blog too shall become a cool organism :3
@hasgavlebockenburneddownyet
What's more happy holiday cheer than cheering on the destruction of a giant straw goat?
The birds may have won 2023, but I believe in humanity's capability for arson for 2024 <3
a vote for me is a vote for arson! This message was approved by hasgavlebockenburneddownyet
gavle is SUCH a public service and holiday feature
what's more tumblr than comical destruction and holidays?
sometimes you just gotta vote with your matchsticks
Bringing a cultural staple to tumblr since 2021
Arson is so much more fun
It would be really funny and ironic if it survives the tournament
you have no idea how much joy watching the chronicling of the gavlebocken brings me every year
hasgavlebockenburneddownyet provides an essential public service
always love seeing a bit of Swedish history on my dash 'Swedish bamboo season'
the goat account is peak gimmick blog
If I don't get to beat the goat then nobody does. -pointless-achievements
Never ask Tumblr to choose between lies and arson! The winner threatens by nature to rip apart the very fabric of our DNA!
goat statues made out of straw are exciting and interesting
I wanna see things burn
the goat is an essential part of tumblr culture and the goat blog is a sacred keeper of the tumblr high holidays
watching to see if the big straw goat has burned down each year is a true delight, something I never knew existed until tumblr and the blog dedicated to it
the incredibly focused nature of @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is what makes their gimmick superior.
Please guys bite gavlebocken
Look, I'm Danish. I was put on this earth to annoy the Swedes and vice versa, but even I voted for @/hasgavlebockenburneddownyet
gavlebocken is also such a fun name and this blog informed be about its existence, so for that I am grateful
hasgavlebockenburneddownyet is providing a vital service! Every year, people rely on their updates regarding the fate of our most beloved Yule Goat! How could they NOT deserve the win!?
sacred anti-corporate arson
a vote for gävlebocken is a vote for anarchy!
pls vote for them they're the funniest gimmick keeping track on the funniest phenomena in recent human history, like when i look at their acc i think to myself this is what tumblr was created for
the goat is the GOAT
HASGAVLEBOCKENBURNEDDOWNYET DESERVES TO WIN, I have them on post alert for a REASON
the holiday season wouldn't be the same without them
they do important reporting. Do you look at the news and be like 'the reporters aren't doing work they're just telling you whats happening.' Have some respect for the goat news
let the weird burnt sacrificial ritual of it all appeal to you
nothing makes my December more interesting, arson should win
doesn't barge in on other peoples posts which is always a good thing in my books. not a fan when obnoxious gimmick blogs turn a decent post into a garbled mess
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Coming home - LN4
*:・゚ Summary/request: by anon; ‘y/n drunk in a club and calling lando to pick her up 🙈 him being patient and gentle 🫶🏼 thank you!!!’
*:・゚ Word count: 2214
୨ৎ
It had been a quiet evening for Lando Norris. The kind of evening he loved, where the house was filled with the gentle hum of the TV, and the warmth of home comforted him after a long day. He’d spent most of his time winding down, his thoughts often drifting to his girlfriend, who had texted him earlier in the day, saying she’d be out with friends tonight.
“You have fun,” he had told her with a smile before she left, his hands gently resting on her hips as he gave her a kiss goodbye.
She never went out too often—mostly a homebody unlike him—so he had encouraged her to enjoy herself, to have a night of fun and laughter, with drinks if she felt like it. He knew she didn’t really drink much, maybe a cocktail here or there, but nothing excessive. She had always been mindful, careful, but tonight seemed a little different.
-
It was around midnight when Lando's phone buzzed.
At first, he didn’t think much of it. He figured it would be one of those casual updates, maybe a quick check-in to let him know she was alright. But when he glanced at the screen, the sight of her name at the top of the message thread made him pause, and the message itself made him frown slightly in confusion.
“I’msogldmkgoig,” the text read. He blinked, squinting at the screen.
Lando tilted his head, trying to decipher the meaning of the garbled message. Was she typing in some kind of code? Then it hit him—a small smile tugged at his lips. She was drunk. Really drunk.
Shaking his head with a soft chuckle, he swiped open his phone, his thumbs moving quickly over the screen.
“Hey, you okay? Need me to pick you up?”
It took a minute or two for a response to come in, and when it did, it was no clearer than the first.
“nnoOOO immmmperf!!! ssssgood igot this!!! 😊😊😊”
Lando laughed under his breath, a fond smile settling on his face. He could just imagine her sitting at a table with her friends, holding her phone up way too close to her face, squinting at the keyboard as she tried to string a sentence together. She always got flustered when her texts came out wrong, even more so when she had a bit too much to drink.
He tried calling her, but it rang for a moment before she declined it. Another message popped up.
“ssorryyyyy busyy having fun witt gurls!! 🎉🍹”
Lando raised an eyebrow. He knew her friends, and he had no doubt they were looking after her, but it was clear she was teetering on the edge of tipsy and downright hammered.
A part of him wanted to laugh at the situation, but the protective part of him nudged forward. He’d rather her be home and safe than out and struggling to figure out how to text properly.
After sending her another message asking if she needed help, he waited, watching the dots of her typing bubble appear and disappear before another string of incomprehensible words filled the chat.
Then, finally, she called him.
Her name flashed across the screen, and Lando answered quickly.
“Hiiiii,” she sang into the phone, her voice bright but undeniably slurred.
“Hey, love,” Lando said softly, leaning back on the couch, the smile in his voice impossible to miss. “You doing okay over there?”
There was a brief pause on the other end, a bit of shuffling and background noise as her friends laughed and chatted around her. “Mmmm, I think soooo,” she said, dragging out the words. “But Landoooo, guess what?”
“What?” Lando humored her, knowing she probably had no idea where this conversation was going.
“I miss youuuu,” she said with a giggle, her voice softening with an endearing whine. “Like, really, really miss you.”
Lando’s heart did a little flip, warmth spreading in his chest. “I miss you too,” he replied, his voice dropping into that gentle, affectionate tone he used whenever they were being sweet with each other. “How about I come pick you up, hmm? I think it’s time to get you home.”
There was another pause, and he could hear the muffled sound of her friends in the background again, likely checking in on her. Then she whispered into the phone, as if telling him the world’s biggest secret, “Okay… but don’t tell anyone… I’m a little drunk.”
Lando chuckled, shaking his head fondly. “You don’t say.”
“But I’m not… that drunk,” she continued, her words tumbling over each other. “Just… a little.”
“Sure, babe,” Lando said playfully, standing up from the couch and grabbing his keys. “I’ll be there in a bit, alright? Stay with your friends. I’m on my way.”
“‘Kayyy,” she sighed, clearly relieved. “Lando?”
“Yeah?”
“You’re the best,” she whispered, her voice filled with a drunken sincerity that made Lando’s chest tighten in the best way.
He grinned, shaking his head again as he headed out the door. “You’re not too bad yourself, love.”
-
The drive to the bar wasn’t long. Lando had been there with her and her friends before, and he knew the route by heart. As he pulled up, his eyes immediately scanned the front of the building, and sure enough, he spotted her standing with a few of her friends near the curb, her posture relaxed but a little wobbly. She was laughing at something one of them had said, her phone clutched in one hand, her jacket loosely draped over her shoulders.
Lando parked and stepped out of the car, his eyes softening as they landed on her. She looked up and saw him, her face lighting up in a way that made his heart skip. She immediately broke into a wide, tipsy grin, her eyes sparkling as she waved enthusiastically.
“Landooo!” she called, drawing out his name in that adorable, exaggerated way she always did when she was happy to see him.
He chuckled, making his way over to her, his hands slipping into his pockets as he approached. “Hey, you,” he greeted, his voice warm and teasing.
She stumbled slightly as she moved toward him, but he was quick to catch her, his hands gently wrapping around her waist to steady her. “Careful, love,” he murmured, pressing a soft kiss to the top of her head.
Her arms looped around his neck as she looked up at him, her eyes a little glassy but full of affection. “You came,” she said, her voice softer now, as if the reality of him being there had just hit her.
“Of course I did,” he replied, brushing a strand of hair away from her face. “I wasn’t gonna leave you here drunk and texting me gibberish all night.”
She giggled, her cheeks flushing. “I wasn’t texting gibberish!”
Lando raised an eyebrow, pulling out his phone and holding up her messages for her to see. “You sure about that?”
She squinted at the screen, her face scrunching up in concentration before she groaned, burying her face in his chest. “Okay, maybe a little gibberish,” she mumbled.
He laughed softly, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter. “Come on, let’s get you home.”
She let out a dramatic sigh, looking up at him with wide, playful eyes. “But I was having funnn,” she whined, though the smile tugging at her lips told him she was more than happy to go with him.
“I’m sure you were,” Lando said with a smirk. “But you’ll have more fun when you’re not regretting all those drinks tomorrow.”
She pouted up at him for a moment before her expression softened, her hand coming up to gently cup his cheek. “You’re so good to me,” she whispered, her voice carrying that drunken tenderness again.
Lando’s heart melted at her words, and he leaned down to kiss her softly, his lips brushing against hers with all the love and patience in the world. “Only because you’re worth it,” he murmured against her lips before pulling back slightly. “Come on, let’s get you in the car.”
-
The drive home was quiet, her head resting against the window as the streetlights flickered by. Every now and then, she’d glance over at him, her eyes soft and full of affection. He’d catch her staring and smile, reaching over to squeeze her hand gently, his thumb brushing over her knuckles in soothing circles.
“You’re really cute, you know that?” she said suddenly, her voice barely above a whisper.
Lando laughed softly. “Am I?”
“Mhm,” she hummed, her eyes drifting shut as she leaned back into the seat. “Really, really cute.”
He shook his head, the fondness in his chest swelling as he stole a glance at her. “You’re something else.”
By the time they got home, she was half-asleep, her body heavy with the exhaustion that always seemed to follow a night of drinking. Lando parked the car and got out, walking over to her side and opening the door. She stirred slightly, her eyes blinking open as he reached out a hand to help her up.
“You okay to walk?” he asked gently.
She nodded, though her movements were slow and sleepy. He wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her out of the car as she leaned into him for support. Her head rested against his shoulder, and a small, content sigh escaped her lips as they made their way toward the house.
Lando unlocked the door and led her inside, his grip gentle but firm. She stumbled a little on her way through the doorway, giggling at her own clumsiness.
“You’re like my knight in shining armor,” she slurred playfully, looking up at him with a soft smile as they stood in the entryway. “Except you drive a McLaren instead of a horse.”
Lando chuckled, rolling his eyes in amusement. “I’ll take that as a compliment.”
She nodded, her head resting back on his shoulder as they made their way down the hallway to their bedroom. “It’s totally a compliment,” she mumbled, her voice getting quieter with each word. “You’re perfect.”
They reached the bed, and Lando helped her sit down, carefully slipping off her shoes. “Alright, love,” he said softly, “let's get you into something more comfortable.”
She whined in protest, her arms going limp as she dramatically fell back onto the bed, her legs still dangling off the edge. “But I’m already sooo comfy,” she groaned.
Lando smirked, shaking his head. “You’re ridiculous,” he muttered affectionately as he knelt down to take her shoes off. Then he stood, heading to the closet to grab one of his oversized hoodies—one she always liked to wear—and brought it back to her.
With a bit of gentle coaxing, he helped her change out of her clothes, into the soft hoodie that smelled faintly of him. She sighed in contentment, snuggling into the fabric as soon as it was on.
“There you go,” he whispered, brushing her hair back from her face. “All cozy.”
She smiled sleepily at him, her eyes half-lidded as she gazed up at him. “Lando?”
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
The words came out soft and vulnerable, almost like a confession. Even though she was drunk, there was a deep sincerity in her voice that made his heart ache in the best way. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead before resting his own forehead against hers.
“I love you too” he murmured, his voice filled with all the affection he’d been holding onto since the moment she had called him. “So much.”
She smiled, her eyes fluttering closed as she snuggled deeper into the blankets. “You’re the best boyfriend ever,” she mumbled, her words slurring together as sleep started to claim her.
Lando stayed there for a moment, just watching her, his heart swelling with warmth. He could see the way her breathing slowed, her body relaxing completely as she drifted off to sleep. Even in her drunken state, she was still the girl he adored—the one who made him laugh, who always knew how to make him smile, and who filled his life with more joy than he ever thought possible.
He stood up slowly, making sure she was tucked in before he changed into his own clothes for the night. Sliding into bed next to her, he wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her close. She instinctively moved toward him, her body curling into his as she sighed in contentment.
Lando pressed a soft kiss to the top of her head, his fingers gently brushing through her hair as he whispered, “Goodnight, love.”
And as she slept peacefully in his arms, he couldn’t help but smile, his heart full. Because nights like this—where he could be there for her, take care of her, and remind her just how much he loved her—were the ones that made everything worth it.
She might have been a little too drunk tonight, but to Lando, she was perfect in every way. And as they lay there, tangled together in the quiet comfort of their home, he knew he wouldn’t trade a single moment of it for the world.
୨ৎ
*:・゚ Notes; Hey anon! I hope you enjoyed it and that this was what you had in mind! If not let me know so I can change things! Enjoy it, love! I’m also currently working on part 3 of baking cookies, coming online soon!
#f1 fanfic#f1 fic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 x you#formula 1#formula one x reader#formula one x you#lando norris#lando norris fanfic#anon ask#anonymous#lando norris fluff#lando norris fic#lando norris x reader#lando x y/n#lando norris imagine#lando x you#lando x reader#lando imagine#lando norizz#drunk#formula one#formula racing#f1 x female reader#f1 fluff#f1 x y/n#f1#lando norris x you#lando norris x y/n
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ᰔ CANDY GRAMS ft. rintaro suna
ʚ CW : secret admirer. manager! reader.
ʚ hq valentine’s series mlist ಇ
every year on valentine’s day, your schools student body sets up a booth for candy grams. $2 to send a cute little message to your loved one with little lollipops and candied hearts. the line would stretch all the way down the hall with students eager to buy one, the end of the line grumbling at their time wasted when they heard the shout of “sold out!”. it was a huge tradition that the students never failed to miss, as it would always cause an uproar of excitement along with the funds being donated to whatever cause.
it’s your second year at inarizaki highschool, and you were luckily privileged enough to become the manager of the volleyball club during the second half of your first year, being a new student, despite the insane amount of girls who had applied for the spot. you had made it extremely clear that no, you were not interested in the twins, no, this wasn’t a plan to get one them to fall in love with you, and no, you weren’t a secret spy for a fangirl instagram account trying to gather information. all things accounted for, you were accepted into the position.
now as a second year, you had kept your word on not falling for the infamous volleyball twins who in reality were just dumb teenage boys that talked your ear off with their constant nagging and immature jokes. however, the one who had caught your eye was the middle blocker with the #10 jersey, rintaro suna. they never said you couldn’t have a little crush on him, right? and even despite having quite the interest in him, you would never act on it, as you seemed to be good friends with him along with the twins, not daring to ruin the friendship or break the trust with the club.
suna was a nice person to be around, his sense of humor was infectious and he was a good, more tame break from the rambunctious person known as atsumu miya, even though they did tend to occasionally get into mischief when together. he was blunt in the ways he showed that he cared, and you recall the moment you realized you had feelings for him when you had accompanied him at the store to get a snack before practice. he had asked you if you wanted anything, and you had told him you didn’t have any money with you.
“i didn’t ask if you had money. i asked what you wanted.”
it left you blushing for the rest of the day, walking out of the shop with a cookie in hand and hearing “why didn’t ya pay fer me?!” fall out of atsumu’s mouth in complaint. you knew in your heart you definitely couldn’t deny it now, you had fallen.
the date marked february 14th, valentine’s day, and just like last year, the halls were bustling in delirium as the line stretched from one end of the courtyard to the other. you slung your bag over your shoulder and continued to walk to your designated class, overhearing the cheers of the people who finally made it to the front of the string of students. making your way to class and taking your seat, you prepare to take on the day as if it were any other.
eventually, the period before lunch had rolled around, and the person passing candy grams from each class had reached your door. you could feel the anticipation of your peers as the student began dropping each one off to certain desks. 1 here, 3 there, 5, wow that’s quite a few.
after most of the class had received their special gifts, whispering the notes their partners had left for them to one another, you had expected the deliverer to make their leave and be on with it.
your assumptions hadn’t been correct, when you see that they had made their way to your desk.
“10 candy grams for miss l/n, here you go!”
wait what?
you caught a few quiet gasps and small whispers from some of your classmates as your desk had been filled with a whopping number of 10 candy grams. even you had wanted to gasp yourself, but you really did not want this attention on you.
after everyone had quieted down a little more, you took the gracious opportunity to check the pink slips of paper on each packet of treats.
“to: y/n.”
again, you checked another slip. then another, and another for good measure. to your upmost confusion, every single slip you had was completely nameless. before you could comprehend exactly what was going on with these mysterious sweets, class was being dismissed for lunch.
“buying candy grams for yerself? that’s pretty depressin’.” atsumu bellowed at you when you had walked up to your friends, arms almost overflowing with your gifts.
“im not that cheap, you idiot…there’s 10 here, and ALL with no name.” you scoffed back at him.
“maybe it’s yer stalker.” osamu had countered, eyeing the bags.
“oh yeah, how lovely that would be. quit trying to scare me, osamu.” you deadpanned. “where’s suna?”
“dunno. so, ya gonna share that candy or what?”
“really miya? you’re both holding an entire grocery bag of them. i’ll see you guys at practice.” you walked off, still pondering on the thought of who it could be.
you still hadn’t managed to find suna within the midst of this entire situation, wanting to get his input. despite the so called “thrill” of having a secret admirer, you didn’t really seem to care. you wanted suna, and you wanted it to be him who was sending you stupid pieces of candy and dumb notes. that however, is a wish that could never be granted no matter how bad you yearned for it.
it’s the last half of the day by now, most classes having been visited by the deliverer, disregarding a few. mostly extra candy grams were being passed to the people who didn’t receive them before lunchtime. you practically ignored the lesson your teacher was explaining, too caught up in your thoughts to listen. 10 candy grams, no name, suna has practically disappeared. when class had been dismissed, you passed by your locker in hopes of putting the treats in there for later, but when you opened the latch, you had yet another surprise waiting for you.
10 more packets of candy dribbled out of your locker, a couple landing by your feet as if to mock you. you scamper to pick them up with a huff, and when you start to shove them in with the rest in your locker, miserably failing to fit them all inside, you come to an immediate realization.
atsumu is the only person who unfortunately knows your locker combination, back when you had held his lost textbook for him until he could get it back.
it dawned on you in an instant, of course, this was atsumu’s idea of humour, a perfect valentine’s day prank.
you roll your eyes at the idea of the twins antics, but also began to feel a tinge of sadness when you came to your conclusion, a hint of hope in the back of your mind that maybe, it was the one your heart had longed for who was up to this, but you’re quick to shut it down. with an upset slam of your locker, you head to the gym.
feet that slowly skid onto the concrete stairs was all that could be heard, and your shoes squeek against the vinyl flooring of the inarizaki gym when you enter. as you prepare to tell off atsumu, a voice interrupts you.
“what’s up with you?”
it was suna, his head cocked to the side with a slight furrow in his brow.
“im trying to find atsumu, he’s really done it this time…”
“and what did he do?”
“he thought it would be a funny idea to prank me! on valentine’s day of all days! sending a mountain of candy grams that won’t even fit in my locker…there wasn’t even a name on them. and it made me think…” you interrupt yourself before you accidentally say too much, “it’s just dumb yknow?” you huff.
“i figured you would think something dumb like that.”
“… huh?”
suna starts to dig into his bag, hand reaching in and then back out. one of his arms extended out to you, holding one of the same cellophane bags that had been taunting you all day.
this one held a cookie, the same kind as that day back at the store, and when you open the note, you can feel yourself grow lighter.
“to: y/n.
you’re kind of a dunse.”
and this time, there’s an indicator of the sender on the slip of paper, in the same handwriting as all of the others.
“R. S.”
you look to suna with widened eyes and a growing blush to your cheeks, your mouth slightly ajar when you ask him,
“…it was you?”
suna softly smirks at you, his hidden facade of mischievousness breaking as he replies,
“yeah, you should really think before you trust a miya with your locker combo.”
#stupid cupid .ᐟ#satorisoup#suna rintaro x you#suna rintaro x y/n#suna rintaro fluff#suna rinatro#suna rintaro fic#suna rintarō#hq suna#suna rintaro#suna rintaro x reader#suna x reader#suna rintarou#suna rintaro haikyuu#haikyuu x you#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu fluff#anime#haikyuu x reader#hq drabble#hq x y/n#hq x you#hq x reader#haikyuu!!#haikyu!!#inarizaki#inarizaki x y/n#inarizaki x reader#haikyuu x y/n
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hi! could u write a fic where lando and the reader were fucking and lando takes his phone out halfway through (to take a photo for himself) but accidentally gets it posted on his instagram story and they only find out in the morning idk i just thought this would be funny af
OOPS? ( lando norris. )
lando norris x reader
to commemorate the sight in front of him, he snaps a picture on his phone without realizing he's just posted it for millions to see.
warnings: smut
authors note: I really liked writing this!!! it's a bit shorter than usual, but I enjoyed it a lot so thanks anon!!! <333
HE DIDN'T KNOW HOW HE DID IT. maybe he was just in the haze of sex, buried deep in her cunt with her leg over his shoulder, her other around his lower back pulling him in further.
he was hovering over her, hand pressed against her mouth as strings of muffled moans spilled from her lips, warm tears against his skin. god, she looked so good, too good. he just wanted to remember how fucked out her expression was.
leaning over to the nightstand, slowing his thrusts ever so much as he clutched his phone, flash on to compensate for the darkness of the bedroom. he snapped the photo, throwing the phone to the side, face side up.
he turned his focus back to the messy masterpiece in front of him, returning to the pace he had set before.
he pulled his hand away from her mouth to hear her symphony of moans, music to his ears. his hand took its place on her neck.
lando norris has posted to his story
he was so lost in the moment, he should've realized sooner the mistake he made. he should've realized at the instant texts that lit up his screen because who would be texting him this late?
all he did was flip over the phone, ignoring whatever notified him as he pulled her leg off his shoulder, pushed her leg down from his back. he fell beside her, prompting her to crawl across him, straddling him weakly as his hands settled on her hips.
fuck, she looked so good from this angle. hair messy from the pillows, face red from the tears down her cheeks, but also flushed from how hard he fucked her. he had already coaxed one orgasm ouf of her.
she sank down on his cock, causing him to curse under his breath with praise, “fuck, such a good girl.” his hands clawed into the flesh of her hips, guiding her pace once he saw her struggle.
the view was immaculate, he could've came at the sight of her tits bouncing up and down as she slid on his cock alone. it was salivating.
his hands left her hips to grasp her breasts, and he couldn't care if her pace faltered because everything felt too good in the moment.
if only they knew.
he planted his feet firmly against the bed, grasping her sides again as he lifted his hips to meet her halfway. it was rough, causing her to steady herself with her hands against his chest as he thrusted up and forced her hips down. his cock buried deep in her brought her over the edge so easily as tears fell from her face onto the bare skin of his chest.
she collapsed against his chest as his cock sank into her, feeling the warmth of his seed inside her cunt. she groaned against his chest as his arm spread across her bare back and pressed a kiss to her hair. the tears from her face wet his skin.
“did so good, baby,” he cooed, running fingers across her flesh as she hummed into his chest.
they laid together for a while before going and cleaning up. since it was already late in the night, they got back into bed and fell asleep.
when lando awoke the next morning, his phone was nearly dead and hundreds of texts and missed calls from his friends was the cause. hot to the touch, he carefully held his phone, brows furrowed as he laid on his side, back to his girlfriend, who was still fast asleep on the other side of the bed.
first, he opened the texts from his friend, max, who’s messages were in all caps. his eyes widened at the content, squinting at the screen in disbelief. no way he was that stupid, no the photo he took was in his camera roll—no it wasn't.
he discovered that, unfortunately, the photo he had taken was posted to his Instagram story, and it hadn't been taken down.
if it weren't for the circumstances, he could've stared at the photo all day because it was truly that good, but first he had to get rid of the post—and get the photo into his camera roll.
he nearly jumped out of his skin when she stirred in her sleep, now right against his back with her cheek pressed to his bare skin.
“morning,” she groaned and he mumbled back. she moved to rest her head on his shoulder, squinting to see what was on his phone screen, “why’re you on your phone so early?”
“i'm sorry.” he gulped, turning his head to watch the expression knot on her face, mostly confusion.
she sat up, leaning on her arm as she practically hovered over him, “lando, what did you do?”
“i’m so sorry,” was all he could say.
“lando,” she paused, an underlying tone of irritation laced in her voice as she emphasized her words, “what did you do?”
he glanced back at his phone, not even trying to hide the guilty expression written all over his face. she snatched the phone from his hand, and he didn't stop her. he covered his face with his hands, rubbing his eyes before leaving them to cover the lower half of his face as he watched her face.
“what the fuck?” she shoved his shoulder.
“i didn't mean to!” he sat up, throwing his hands up before running them through his messy curls, “i don't know how i did it.”
“oh my god,”she muttered under her breath, rubbing her temples as she hunched over the phone, “i’m deleting it.”
“wait–” his hand touched hers, he bit his lip, “at least save it to my photos–ow!”
she hit the backside of his head at the idiocy of his words. she exhaled deeply, anger taking over her body. of course, he didn't care as much as she did. he wasn't in the photo at all to begin with and this wouldn't affect his career as deeply as it would affect hers.
“why? so you can post it somewhere else? text it to your friends?” she raised her voice, groaning out in frustration.
“baby, calm down–” he tenderly placed a hand on her shoulder, which she shrugged off.
“how can i calm down, lando?” she threw his phone down on the bedding, falling back down onto the bed with her hands covering her face in shame. now that picture is all everyone will ever see her as, all thanks to her idiot of a boyfriend.
he grabbed his phone back, seeing the photo had been taken down from his story, but they both knew that image would be circling the internet for a long time.
“at least the photo didn't show anything,” he tried to make light of the situation, but it was to no avail as she spat back with venom in her tone.
“you don't even care about the photo because you aren't the one in it, lando.” she scoffed.
“i’m sorry, okay?” he turned to her, “i really didn't mean to, you know i would never do that.”
she sighed, “i know, but i’m still mad, lan.”
“i know, darling,” he laid beside her on his side, looking at her side profile as she stared at the ceiling, “you have every right to be mad.”
she stayed silent, and he didn't know if it was a good or bad thing.
he gulped again, speaking up, “and i promise to never take a photo of you when we're fucking ever again.”
a laugh forced it's way past her lips, “oh, please we both know you'll try and fail,” she said with a smile on her lips, shaking her head.
“okay, yeah, but i promise i’ll triple check it's not in any social media post,” he flipped over onto his stomach, propped up by his elbows with his pinky held out. she took it and the promise was made. the situation dealt with, for the most part.
“did you happen to save the photo though–ow, okay!”
—
taglist (found here): @poppyflower-22 @sapphiccloud @slut4lrh @kaa12 @taylorslovesswifties13 @sbella13 @nhlfs @beskardroids @hiireadstuff @lorenica @delululeclerc @c-losur3 @casperlikej
proofread by @foreveralbon <333
#formula 1#formula 1 drivers#formula one#f1 fic#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 imagine#lando#lando norris#lando norris fic#lando norris f1#lando norris fanfic#lando norris x reader#lando norris imagine#lando x reader#lando imagine#ln4 smut#ln4 fluff#ln4 imagine#ln4 fic#ln4#ln4 x reader#ln4 x y/n#ln4 x you#lando norris smut#lando norris angst#lando norris fluff
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Trick or...Temptation?
Word Count: 9.8k
Tags: sylus x fem!reader, pet play if u squint, creampie, biting, rough sex, pet names like kitten, sweetie, penetration, cunninlingus, i wanted to make this a vampire!sylus fic so bad but I got nervous lmao but theres slight mentions of him :3
AN: Happy Halloween everyone! I sincerely hope u all enjoy this, it was super fun to write! I rushed to finish this so I could post it exactly on Halloween. Enjoy!
“What?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he ran his thumb over the spot on your neck where he had bitten you. “You thought I was joking?” You opened your mouth, trying to find the words, but before you could speak, Sylus leaned in close again, his breath hot against your ear. “Be still,” he murmured, his tone soft but commanding. “You can handle it. Just like you said.”
“Come oooon! It’ll be so much fun!” Tara exclaimed, trailing behind you as you both walked out of work. The day had ended early thanks to the holiday, and while most people had exciting Halloween plans, you had opted for a quiet night in with a scary movie marathon. Of course, your enthusiastic coworker had other ideas for you.
“Tara, as much as I’d love to, it’s really just not my scene, you know? Maybe next year?” you tried, hoping to dodge her invitation once again.
“You always say that!” Tara pouted, her voice pleading as she quickened her pace to walk beside you. “Please? It’ll be fun! Just a few hours, a couple of drinks, a little dancing, and we can leave! Deal? It’s a festival, for crying out loud! I don’t want to go by myself.”
You glanced at Tara, her eyes wide and shimmering with that classic puppy-dog look she always gave you when she really wanted something. You couldn’t deny she had a point. It wasn’t like you had big plans for the night—just a quiet evening with a blanket and some popcorn. Maybe it wouldn’t be that bad to step out for a few hours, right?
“Fine,” you finally sighed, rolling your eyes but smiling a little. “But only for a few hours, and then I’m out.”
“Yes! Thank you, thank you, bestie!” Tara squealed, practically bouncing in excitement. “I’ll see you later tonight! You’re going to love it!”
And that was how you found yourself here, standing in front of your mirror, dressed in a skimpy cat costume. You adjusted the white miniskirt and tugged at the black corset top, making sure everything was in place. The cat ears perched on your head and the swishing tail added a playful touch, though the whole ensemble was definitely more revealing than you were used to. You sighed, resigned to your fate.
You didn’t have to stay long, you reminded yourself. Just a few hours, and then you could slip back into your original plan of movie night...hopefully without running into too much trouble.
You sighed and pulled out your phone, typing a quick message to Tara: On my way. Hitting send, you opened your ride-share app. If you were going to be drinking tonight, it was best not to drive yourself. The car arrived faster than you expected, and you slipped into the back seat, watching the city lights blur by as you mentally prepared yourself for the night ahead.
Arriving at the event, you stepped out of the car and immediately took in the scene. The park had been transformed into a Halloween wonderland, bustling with life. String lights cast a soft, warm glow over the area, illuminating clusters of people already well into the party spirit. Bodies bumped together in rhythm with the pulsing beat of the music, and a mix of excited chatter and laughter filled the cool night air. The grass beneath your shoes was damp with evening dew, and the faint scent of autumn leaves and spiced drinks wafted through the crowd.
Everywhere you looked, Halloween-themed decorations adorned the space—carved pumpkins lined the walkways, some with goofy faces, others with intricate, eerie designs. Fake cobwebs clung to the trees, and glowing skeletons and witch hats dangled from makeshift booths. There was an excitement in the air, palpable and contagious, though you still felt a little out of place.
Your eyes wandered toward the bar at the far end of the festival grounds. It was busy, but it was exactly what you needed. Liquid courage, you thought. If you were going to make it through the night, a drink or two would certainly help take the edge off. You made a beeline for it, weaving through the crowd, your thoughts focused on what your first drink would be—something strong, something to help you loosen up.
Just as you were about to make your escape, a high-pitched squeal cut through the music, and you barely had time to turn before you saw her—Tara, dressed in her fairy costume, wings glittering under the lights, barreling toward you at full speed.
“You’re here!!” she cried, wrapping you in an excited hug before you could even react. “Oh my God, I thought for sure you’d bailed or fallen asleep or something!”
You laughed, the sound surprising even you. “Yeah, well, you convinced me. I wouldn’t leave you hanging,” you said, shaking your head as you hugged her back, her energy instantly infectious.
Tara pulled back, her wide smile practically glowing. “Thank you soooo much for coming! I’m so excited, I can’t even—” she paused, looking you up and down, a mischievous grin spreading across her face. “You look amazing! That cat costume is sexy! Definitely a step up from your usual movie marathon at home, huh?”
You rolled your eyes, trying to hide the blush creeping up your neck. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll admit, this is...different,” you muttered, tugging at the hem of your miniskirt. The cool night air reminded you just how short it was. But Tara was right—you didn’t do this often. And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn’t be the worst thing in the world to try something new tonight.
Tara, completely unfazed by your slight discomfort, grabbed your hand with excitement. “Alright, enough chatting. Let’s get some drinks! We’re here to have fun, and the night is young!”
She pulled you toward the bar, and you couldn’t help but smile at her enthusiasm. It wasn’t your scene, but with Tara by your side, maybe the night wouldn’t be so bad after all. The thumping bass of the music, the swirl of costumes, and the faint buzz of excitement in the air already had you feeling a little lighter.
The two of you made your way through the crowd and finally approached the bar. It was busy, but not unbearable, with people lined up in various costumes, chatting, laughing, and ordering drinks. As you and Tara waited for your turn, she started rambling about all the new Halloween movies you two could watch later, once the festival was over.
“There’s this one that’s supposed to be so creepy! It’s about these haunted scarecrows that come to life—oh, and don’t even get me started on the one with the possessed doll…” Tara continued, her excitement infectious as she rattled off titles.
You nodded along, half-listening, your mind slightly wandering as you scanned the area. The lights flickered over the bar, casting an eerie glow on the bottles lined up behind the counter. The decorations were elaborate—fake cobwebs stretched across the bar shelves, and jack-o’-lanterns glowed faintly from the corners of the space. You were just starting to get lost in your thoughts when the bartender, a stunning blonde woman dressed in a witch costume, turned to you with a smile.
“Hi, can I get a—” you began, but you were abruptly cut off by a smooth, male voice behind you.
“I’ll get a Gin Fizz and two margaritas for the ladies,” the voice said with casual authority.
You froze for a moment, the sound of that voice sending a jolt down your spine. You spun around, and there he was.
Sylus.
Tall, effortlessly imposing, with his signature white hair catching the dim light and his crimson red eyes locking onto yours with that familiar, knowing glint. He wore a dark, sleek outfit that hugged his frame perfectly, making him stand out even in the crowd of costumes. His smile was just as confident and wicked as you remembered.
“Long time no see, kitten” he said, his voice smooth, dripping with amusement as he looked down at you, eyeing your costume.
Your stomach did a flip. Of all the people you could have run into tonight, Sylus was the last person you expected—or wanted—to see. You hadn’t seen him in a while, and now here he was, appearing out of nowhere like he always did, and immediately making your pulse quicken.
“Sy-I mean Skye?” you stammered, catching yourself as Tara turned around too, clearly intrigued by the sudden appearance of this tall, striking man. Her bright eyes went wide, and she started clapping her hands excitedly.
“Skye! I haven’t seen you since our team-building outing! How’s the fruit business?” she asked, her voice bright and friendly as she came to stand beside you, completely unaware of your racing heart.
Sylus—no, Skye—didn’t miss a beat. He flashed Tara an easy smile, looking as unruffled as ever. “Ah, the fruit business is...ripe as always,” he replied with a wink towards you, clearly enjoying the nervous look on your face.
The bartender cleared her throat, cutting through the tension. “There’s a line, folks,” she said with a polite but firm smile, nodding toward the queue of people waiting for their drinks. “Take your drinks and let the others through.”
You blinked, suddenly remembering where you were. Nervously, you reached for your margarita and handed Sylus his gin fizz, all while trying to calm the wild beating of your heart. The casual smirk on his face did nothing to help your nerves. With drinks in hand, you and Tara moved toward a quieter, empty spot at the edge of the festival, away from the bar's chaos. Sylus, of course, followed.
As soon as you settled into your spot, Sylus wasted no time, his teasing smirk never fading. His eyes roamed over your outfit—your skimpy black cat costume with the mini skirt, corset top, and cat ears—and you could practically feel the heat of his gaze.
With a predatory gleam in his eye, he sauntered over, his smirk growing more wicked by the second. “You say you don’t want me calling you kitten, and yet here you are,” he drawled, letting his gaze sweep over your costume. “Dressed as one. How cute.”
You glared at him, already feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. “Zip it...” you warned, rolling your eyes at the sheer irony of it all. But despite your best efforts, you couldn’t help but let a small giggle slip past your lips. It was absurd, really. Of course, of all the costumes you could've picked it just had to be this one.
He just chuckled, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. He took a sip of his own drink, his eyes gleaming with mischief. “What are you even doing here?” you finally asked, your voice a little sharper than intended. “I thought you didn’t like crowded places.”
Sylus gave a soft laugh, leaning against a nearby post with his usual air of nonchalance. “I’m not a fan of crowds,” he admitted, his gaze flickering back to the sea of people dancing and drinking. “But I happen to own this little part of Linkon.” He said it so casually, as if it were no big deal. “Figured I’d make an appearance. Keep an eye on things.”
You stared at him, your mind racing. Of course he did. Sylus always had a way of showing up in places you least expected him—places you thought you could escape from him, if only for a night. But owning part of the city? That was new.
But not surprising.
Tara, who had already downed her margarita, was clearly impressed. “Woah, Skye,” she slurred slightly, her eyes wide with admiration. “The fruit vendor business must pay soooo well.”
You shot her a look, silently willing her to stop talking, but she was already giggling, oblivious to the tension between you and Sylus. He, on the other hand, seemed more amused than anything.
“What can I say?” Sylus replied smoothly, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “Fresh fruit is forever in demand.” His eyes met yours again, clearly enjoying the joke that only the two of you understood.
You groaned inwardly, sipping more of your margarita as you glared at Sylus. He was playing along, effortlessly weaving his cover story about being a simple fruit vendor. And yet, there he was, owning half the city and standing in front of you, looking like he could control the whole damn world if he wanted to.
Sylus raised his glass in a mock toast, his crimson eyes never leaving yours. “Happy Halloween?” he said with a wink, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes, though a smile tugged at your lips.
“Yeah, sure,” you muttered under your breath, knowing full well that this night was gonna be a loooong one.
Tara, always quick to notice things, suddenly glanced at Sylus with a playful frown. “Wait a second, Skye,” she said, squinting at him, “you’re not even in costume!” She giggled, rummaging through her bag, clearly not letting him off the hook. “This is a Halloween festival, after all. You’ve gotta dress the part!”
You internally groaned, already bracing yourself for whatever Tara had up her sleeve. But of course, she wasn’t about to disappoint. With a triumphant grin, she pulled out a small plastic case from her bag and popped it open, revealing a pair of cheap, plastic vampire fangs.
“Here!” she said, holding them out to Sylus with a twinkle in her eye. “These will work perfectly. You’ve already got the whole pale, mysterious look going on. You’d make such a great vampire!”
You couldn’t help but glance at Sylus, your heart skipping a beat as you realized just how well Tara’s suggestion fit. His striking white hair, his sharp features, and those intense, crimson eyes...he really would make a disturbingly convincing vampire.
To your surprise—and mild horror—Sylus flashed a wicked grin, clearly entertained by the whole situation. “A vampire, huh?” he mused, taking the plastic fangs from Tara’s hand and inspecting them. His eyes flicked up to meet yours, glinting with that all-too-familiar mischief. “I guess I can pull that off.”
He slid the fake teeth into his mouth with an exaggerated flourish, and somehow, even with cheap plastic fangs, he managed to look both ridiculous and annoyingly attractive at the same time. He bared his new "fangs" with a cheeky grin, clearly enjoying your reaction.
“See?” Tara beamed, clapping her hands together. “I told you! You look like you’ve been doing this your whole life!”
Sylus smirked, turning his attention back to you, his voice dropping to that low, teasing tone he always used to get under your skin. “I do make a rather convincing vampire, don’t I?” he said, flashing his fake fangs at you with a playful gleam in his eyes. “What do you think, kitten?”
You glared at him, half-annoyed, half-amused. “You’re lucky I don’t have garlic,” you muttered, sipping your drink to hide the smile tugging at your lips.
Tara, oblivious to the tension between the two of you, just giggled again and raised her empty glass. “I need another drink after that! I'm gonna go get another round,” she said, already walking back toward the bar.
As soon as Tara was out of earshot, Sylus’s demeanor shifted slightly. The playful grin remained, but now, with just the two of you, there was something darker, more intense in his expression. He stepped closer, his presence suddenly much more imposing.
“You know,” he began, his voice dropping to a low murmur as he closed the distance between you, “I think your friend is onto something” His eyes gleamed, locking onto yours with that wicked, teasing look you knew all too well.
Before you could react, he leaned in—so close that you could feel his warm breath on your neck. Your heart jumped in your chest, the sudden proximity sending a shiver down your spine. His breath was hot against your skin, teasing, as he lingered just inches from your neck, not touching you but close enough that goosebumps instantly rose along your arms.
You froze, every nerve in your body suddenly hyper-aware of how close he was. The scent of him, a mix of something dark and enticing, filled your senses. Your pulse quickened, and you couldn’t hide the goosebumps now crawling up your skin.
He let his breath linger for just a moment longer before his lips curled into a smirk near your ear. “You might want to watch out, kitten,” he whispered, his voice a low, teasing growl. “I could get used to this.”
Your breath hitched, and you struggled to keep your composure, your pulse racing wildly. “Sylus…” you warned, trying to sound stern, but your voice betrayed the effect he was having on you.
He chuckled softly, clearly reveling in your reaction. Straightening up slightly, he didn’t step back but remained close, his crimson eyes still locked on yours. “What’s the matter?” he teased, his voice smooth and playful. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
You glared at him, trying to mask the fact that your heart was still hammering in your chest. “Don’t start,” you muttered, forcing a glare, even though you could still feel the heat from where his breath had brushed your skin.
Sylus took a slow sip of his drink, his smirk never fading. “I wasn’t starting anything,” he said innocently, though the mischievous gleam in his eyes said otherwise. “Just playing the part.”
You huffed, rolling your eyes, but the warmth in your cheeks and the pounding of your heart betrayed you. “Just don’t bite anyone,” you shot back, trying to reclaim some control over the situation.
“No promises,” Sylus said, his voice soft but dangerous, his gaze lingering on you as if you were his prey.
Tara came bouncing back over to you with two martinis, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “Hey! Want to dance?” she asked, already swaying to the music.
You barely hesitated, desperate for a way to escape the overwhelming tension with Sylus. “Yeah, sure,” you said, quickly taking the martini from Tara and downing a good portion of it. You could feel Sylus’s eyes on you, and when you glanced his way, he simply gave a slight nod, clearly content with watching you both from afar.
Your skin prickled under his gaze as you and Tara made your way toward the middle of the festival. The music was thumping, bodies swaying together under the dim, flickering lights. You still felt uneasy knowing Sylus was watching you, his presence like a shadow you couldn’t shake. But as the alcohol worked its way through your system, slowly loosening your limbs and dulling the tension, you started to let yourself get lost in the music. Tara twirled around you, laughing and dancing without a care in the world, and soon enough, you found yourself smiling and moving along with her.
You weren’t sure how much time had passed, but the warmth of the alcohol was settling into your bones, making everything seem a little hazier, a little easier. The bass pulsed through the air, the crowd a blur of costumes and laughter, and for a moment, you forgot about Sylus’s watchful eyes.
But eventually, a different need called your attention—you really had to pee.
“I’m going to the bathroom,” you shouted over the music to Tara.
“I’ll come with you!” she offered, but you shook your head.
“No, no, it’s fine. Stay here! I’ll be right back.”
Tara shrugged, happily returning to her dancing as you weaved your way through the crowd, the cool night air hitting your flushed skin as you stepped away from the dance floor. Your steps were a little unsteady, and as you made your way to the row of porta potties set up near the back of the festival grounds, you blinked to clear your vision. Everything seemed a little...fuzzy. The alcohol was really kicking in now, and you swore the ground felt a little wobbly under your feet.
You managed to find an open porta potty, and after handling your business, you stepped out, blinking again as the world swayed in front of you. Shit...am I really this drunk? you thought, steadying yourself against the side of the porta potty for a moment. Your vision was blurry, and everything seemed a little too bright, a little too loud.
Then, out of the corner of your eye, you saw a figure approaching. For a second, you thought it was Sylus. The height was wrong, but the dark outline and the way the man moved had you second-guessing yourself. Relief almost flooded through you, but then the figure got closer, and the sour, stale scent hit your nose.
No, this definitely wasn’t Sylus.
The man was much shorter, stockier, and as he came closer, you could smell him—like sweat and cheap cologne, mixed with the stench of too much booze. Your stomach churned uncomfortably as he stepped into your personal space, his breath hot and sour as he leaned in a little too close.
“Hey there,” he slurred, his voice dripping with false charm. “You look a little lost. Why don’t you come to my car? It’s parked just over there.”
Your heart jumped in your chest, and you instinctively stepped back, trying to put some distance between you and him. “No, I’m fine,” you said quickly, your voice shaky as you tried to move past him. But he stepped into your path, blocking you with an alarming quickness for someone who seemed so drunk.
“C’mon, don’t be like that,” he said, his tone darkening, his hand reaching out to grab your arm. “It’ll be fun. I can show you a good time, little kitty.”
Panic surged through you as you tried to yank your arm away, stumbling slightly as your vision blurred again. The alcohol was making it hard to focus, and you cursed under your breath. “No, leave me alone!” you said, your voice firmer now as you tried to push past him.
But he wasn’t having it. His grip tightened, his face twisting with frustration. “I said come with me,” he growled, pulling harder.
Your pulse skyrocketed, fear taking over as you struggled to break free. Just as you were about to shout for help, a shadow loomed behind the man.
“I’d suggest you listen to her.”
That voice—it was low, cold, and unmistakable. You looked up, relief crashing through you like a wave as Sylus appeared, his tall figure practically radiating menace. The shorter man immediately let go of your arm, turning to face Sylus with a sneer, clearly trying to act tough despite the difference in size.
“And who the hell are you? I'm her boyfriend, fuck off” the man spat, puffing out his chest.
Sylus’s eyes narrowed, his jaw clenching. “Is that so?” he asked, his voice low and deadly. Without another word, a cold red mist began to swirl around him, tendrils of it seeping through the air like something out of a nightmare. The temperature around you seemed to drop, and you could feel the mist growing denser, colder.
The drunken man didn’t seem to realize what was happening until it was too late. The red mist wrapped around him like a snake, tightening and choking him. His eyes bulged as he gasped for air, his grip on your arm loosening as fear took over.
Sylus didn’t stop. His eyes were locked on the man, his fury palpable as the mist constricted tighter.
The man’s face turned a sickly shade of purple as he clawed at the mist around his throat, desperately trying to break free. He gagged, his drunken bravado crumbling into pure terror.
“Please,” you whispered, your voice shaking as you stepped forward, grabbing Sylus’s arm. “Stop. You’re going to kill him...there's people all around us.”
Sylus’s eyes flicked to you, still cold and angry, but there was a flicker of hesitation. You could see the struggle behind his gaze, his fury barely held in check. But slowly, the mist around the man’s throat began to dissipate. Sylus released him, letting the man fall to the ground, coughing and wheezing as he scrambled to his feet.
The man didn’t waste a second. He stumbled away, terrified, mumbling incoherently as he disappeared into the crowd, wanting nothing more than to escape the nightmare he had just experienced.
Sylus’s shoulders tensed, his body still vibrating with anger as he watched the man retreat. His breathing was heavy, and though the mist had vanished, the chill in the air remained.
You stood there, your heart still racing, unsure whether to feel relieved or terrified by what had just happened. As Sylus turned toward you, you could see him trying to calm himself.
“My kitten,” he said softly, though his voice was still rough with residual anger, “is always getting herself into sticky situations.” He took a step closer, his usual smirk returning, though there was a hardness in his eyes that hadn’t been there before. “Good thing I’m a vampire tonight. I can sniff out when she gets herself in trouble.”
You managed a shaky laugh, though your heart was still pounding in your chest. “You didn’t have to almost kill him,” you muttered, trying to regain your composure.
Sylus shrugged, his eyes softening as he looked you over, checking to make sure you were truly alright. “He deserved worse,” he said, though his tone was lighter now. “But I’ll behave. For you.”
Sylus suddenly glanced down at his watch, his expression hardening almost instantly. Without warning, he turned to you and, in a firm voice, announced, “We’re leaving.”
You blinked, confused. “What? Leaving? Why? What about Tara?”
But Sylus didn’t bother explaining. He grabbed your arm with a sense of urgency, pulling you away from the festival and weaving through the crowd. You tried to dig your feet into the ground, but with the alcohol still lingering in your system, your balance wasn’t on your side. “Hey! What about Tara?” you protested, struggling to keep up with his swift pace.
Sylus barely glanced back at you as he strode toward a sleek, black car parked near the edge of the festival grounds. “Luke and Kieran are taking her home,” he replied coolly, unlocking the car with a flick of his wrist. “Behave, and get inside.”
You planted your feet, halting in your tracks as you shook your head, confused and frustrated. “Wait—what? Why are we leaving so suddenly? I don’t—”
But Sylus wasn’t in the mood for a debate. He turned, his eyes flashing with irritation, and in one swift motion, he pushed the car door open, his grip on your arm tightening slightly as he guided you into the passenger seat. You tried to resist, squirming under his firm hold.
“Get in the car,” he sighed, clearly not in the mood to argue. “Please.”
After a bit more struggle—your alcohol-fueled frustration not making it easy—you finally huffed in defeat and let him guide you into the seat. He shut the door behind you with a sharp click before rounding the car and sliding into the driver’s seat.
You sulked in silence as he started the engine, the low hum of the car doing little to soothe your frustration. You didn’t understand why Sylus was being so forceful all of a sudden, and the abruptness of it all only added to the confusion swirling in your mind. The alcohol still clouded your thoughts, making it hard to argue, and as the car began to move, the steady rhythm of the ride lulled you into an unexpected calm.
Your eyelids grew heavy, and despite the tension of the night, you found yourself slowly drifting off. The next thing you knew, darkness had settled around you, and your body slipped into a deep, alcohol-fueled sleep.
When you woke, you felt yourself being carried, the world around you shifting. The first thing you noticed was Sylus’s steady, strong grip beneath you, his arms holding you close as he walked. You blinked groggily, your vision clearing slightly as you realized you were no longer at the festival—or in the car.
Sylus was carrying you through the dim, industrial halls of his home in the N109 Zone. The walls were dark and sleek, bathed in a soft glow from the faint lights overhead. The cold, sterile air of the house prickled against your skin, sobering you up a little more as you processed what was happening.
A wave of frustration hit you. With your head clearer now, you reached up and pinched his cheek, your fingers digging in as you muttered, “Asshole.”
Sylus let out a soft grunt of surprise, glancing down at you with a bemused look. “Still feisty, I see,” he murmured, though there was an amused glint in his eyes. “How unfortunate that the nap didn't dull your attitude".
You scowled, still annoyed by the way he had just whisked you away without any explanation. “You dragged me away from the festival without even telling me why,” you muttered, your voice sharper now that you were more awake. “What the hell, Sylus?”
He just chuckled softly, ignoring the sting from your pinch. “You were in no state to argue,” he said simply, his tone matter-of-fact as he carried you further into his home. “And I had enough of babysitting you the whole night.”
“Well I didn't ask you to watch me,” you grumbled, though your body still felt heavy with the lingering effects of alcohol. You squirmed a little in his arms, trying to free yourself, but his grip on you was steady and unyielding.
“You can complain all you want, kitten,” he said with a smirk, “but you needed to get out of there. Trust me.”
You huffed, more irritated now. “Don’t call me kitten,” you muttered, glaring up at him through half-lidded eyes. It was bad enough that he always teased you with that nickname—tonight, it felt like he was deliberately rubbing salt in the wound.
Sylus glanced down at you, his smirk deepening into a mischievous grin. “Why not?” he asked, his voice soft, teasing, as his eyes traveled over your outfit. “You’re dressed like one tonight. Seems even more fitting than usual, doesn’t it?”
Sylus carried you effortlessly through the halls of his home until he reached his room. He set you down gently on the large, plush bed, its softness immediately pulling you in. The sheets felt cool against your skin as you sank into them, your body still heavy with the lingering effects of alcohol.
You watched as Sylus moved across the room, grabbing a glass of water from a nearby table and bringing it back to the nightstand beside the bed. “Drink this,” he said, his voice less teasing now, more gentle. “You’ll feel better in the morning. Go to sleep.”
You rolled your eyes but obediently took a sip, the cool water soothing your dry throat. As you placed the glass back down, you realized that the fog in your mind was starting to lift. You weren’t as drunk as you had been earlier—your head was clearer now, though you were still feeling bold enough to be a little reckless.
Sylus walked across the room, settling into a large leather chair near the window, watching you from a distance. He leaned back, his crimson eyes glinting in the low light, clearly still on edge after the events of the night.
But something stirred inside you—a spark of mischievousness born from the alcohol still lingering in your system. You narrowed your eyes at him, thinking of how he had pulled you away from the festival without warning, how he always teased you, and how you could never seem to one-up him. Maybe now was your chance.
You slid out of bed and onto all fours, quietly crawling toward him. Sylus raised an eyebrow, clearly intrigued but cautious. “What are you doing?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and warning.
You didn’t answer. Instead, when you reached him, you rested your face against his legs and set your head down in his lap, rubbing your cheek against him in a way that could only be described as cat-like.
For a moment, Sylus just stared at you, processing what you were doing. Then, a low chuckle escaped his lips, and he leaned forward slightly, looking down at you with amusement dancing in his eyes.
“Not only are you dressed like a cat,” he said, his voice laced with playful sarcasm, “but now you’ve decided to act like one too.”
You smirked to yourself, feeling triumphant in your little act of rebellion. “I’m just embracing the part,” you murmured, your voice teasing as you nuzzled your face slightly against his legs.
Sylus’s hand twitched slightly, and for a moment, you wondered if he would push you away—but he didn’t. Instead, he just watched you, his gaze sharp and curious, though there was a flicker of something darker beneath his playful expression.
“Careful, kitten,” he said softly, his voice dropping to that low, dangerous tone that always made your pulse race. “You’re playing a dangerous game.”
You glanced up at him, meeting his gaze, the mischief still swirling inside you. “And what if I am?” you challenged, pushing yourself just a little further, enjoying the way his body tensed beneath you.
Sylus’s crimson eyes darkened, his smirk fading slightly as he studied you more closely. There was something electric in the air between you now, the tension palpable as he weighed his next move.
“You’re bold tonight,” he said, his voice softer now, more serious. “Bolder than usual.”
You just smiled up at him, feeling a rush of satisfaction at having thrown him off balance, even if only slightly. “Maybe it’s the cat costume,” you teased, still resting your head in his lap. “Or maybe it’s just you.”
Sylus’s eyes darkened, his smirk growing more predatory as he leaned down slightly, closing the distance between your faces. He looked at you with a gleam of amusement and hunger, his tone shifting to something deeper, more commanding.
“Since you’re feeling so bold,” he said softly, his voice dripping with a dangerous edge, “you should have no problem mewling a little for me then, hm?”
Your breath caught in your throat at his words, the sudden shift in tone making your pulse race even faster. The way he looked at you, his gaze intense and unwavering, made your skin prickle with nervous anticipation. He wasn’t playing around anymore. The teasing had escalated, and now he was testing you, pushing you to see how far you would go.
You felt heat rise to your cheeks, a mix of defiance and something else stirring within you. The tension between you two had never been more palpable, and in that moment, it felt like a line was being drawn—a challenge you weren’t sure if you wanted to accept or retreat from.
Sylus leaned back slightly, his expression amused as he watched the gears turn in your head. “What’s the matter?” he teased, though his voice was softer now, coaxing. “Cat got your tongue?"
You smirked at Sylus’s challenge, the mischievous spark in your eyes growing even brighter. Fine, you thought, two can play at that game.
Without hesitation, you leaned into the role he was teasing you about, doubling down on your boldness. You let out a soft, playful meow, pawing at his legs like a mischievous cat. The alcohol still buzzing in your system only made it easier to fully embrace the act, and you were determined to throw him off balance—if only for a moment.
Sylus raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised at how far you were willing to take the game, but his smirk never wavered. If anything, it deepened as he watched you with amusement, his crimson eyes twinkling with intrigue. “Oh, so we’re really doing this?” he murmured, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm.
You meowed again, more dramatically this time, your hands pawing at his pants as you looked up at him with exaggerated innocence. You could see the amusement in his eyes, and you knew you had him—at least for now. Deciding to push the limits, you got even closer, deciding to rub your face against his half hard cock hidden beneath his jeans.
Seems he was more affected than he was letting on.
With a mocking grin, Sylus reached down and ran his hand gently over the top of your head, as if petting you like a real cat. “You must be very drunk,” he teased, his voice light and playful. “Acting like a kitten and now letting me pet you? I need a camera.”
But before he could pull his hand away, you leaned forward and bit him—lightly, but enough to make a point. He barely reacted before withdrawing his hand, his eyes widening with mock surprise as he looked down at you.
“Oh?,” Sylus said with a chuckle, shaking his head in disbelief. “You even bite too? What an unpredictable little kitten I have”
You grinned up at him, feeling victorious in your rebellion, the mixture of alcohol and adrenaline making you bolder than ever. “I warned you not to underestimate me,” you teased, your eyes still locked on his, enjoying the game far more than you expected.
Sylus’s playful smirk returned, though there was an undeniable glint of something darker in his gaze. “I think you've forgotten something though” he said softly, leaning forward slightly, his voice dropping lower.
"I bite back.”
Your pulse quickened, but you kept your grin in place, unwilling to back down now. The tension between the two of you was palpable, the playful teasing quickly evolving into something far more intense. You had started this game, and now you were both caught in it.
But for now, you weren’t ready to back down. “I think I can handle it,” you replied, your voice light but laced with challenge.
Sylus’s eyes flickered with amusement, but the edge in his gaze remained. “Is that so?”
Before you could react, Sylus stood up abruptly, his towering presence looming over you. Caught off guard, you stumbled backward, landing on your elbows. Instinctively, you began to scoot back, trying to put some distance between you and his intense gaze, but there was nowhere to go. You felt the cool sheets of the bed press against your back as you found yourself cornered, unable to escape the situation you'd playfully started.
Sylus took a slow step forward, his eyes locked on yours, predatory and amused. He enjoyed how you had pushed him, but now it seemed like the tables had turned. You bit your lip, feeling your heart race in a way that wasn’t just from fear or excitement—it was something more.
“Sylus,” you said, your voice half-teasing, half-nervous, “you’re not really going to—” But the words caught in your throat as he leaned over you, his face inches from yours, cutting off any space for escape.
You were about to plead again, but your voice faltered as he lowered himself closer, his breath warm against your skin. “Why so nervous now?” he teased, his voice low and dangerous, echoing your earlier defiance.
You opened your mouth to say something, but the intensity in his gaze rendered you speechless. Instead, all you could do was look at him, your breath catching in your throat as the air around you thickened with anticipation.
“Can I kiss you?” he asked, his voice softer now, though the predatory edge was still there, lingering just beneath the surface.
You nodded again, almost breathless. “Y-yes,” you whispered.
Without waiting another moment, Sylus’s lips were on yours. The kiss was slow at first, his hand coming up to cradle your face gently, despite the tension hanging in the air. You melted into the kiss, your mind swimming as his lips moved against yours with a mixture of tenderness and hunger. It was as if he was savoring every second.
But then his lips trailed down, leaving a hot path along your jawline, and before you knew it, he was at your neck. You shuddered, the sensation making your pulse quicken, and just as the heat spread through you, you felt a sharp sting—his teeth sinking into your skin.
You gasped, a groan escaping your lips as the bite sent a jolt of pain through your body. Your hands instinctively gripped the sheets beneath you as your body tensed, your head spinning with the mixture of pain and adrenaline. Sylus’s teeth sank in deeper for just a moment, the pressure sharp but somehow electrifying.
Then, just as suddenly, he pulled back, giving you a moment to catch your breath. His crimson eyes gleamed as he watched your reaction, a smirk playing on his lips.
“What?” he asked, his voice laced with amusement as he ran his thumb over the spot on your neck where he had bitten you. “You thought I was joking?”
You opened your mouth, trying to find the words, but before you could speak, Sylus leaned in close again, his breath hot against your ear. “Be still,” he murmured, his tone soft but commanding. “You can handle it. Just like you said.”
Your pulse pounded in your ears, and though the bite had hurt, there was something about his voice, his presence, that made you want to give in. Despite yourself, you found your body relaxing under his touch, your breath steadying as you nodded again, almost instinctively.
Sylus smiled, his lips brushing against your neck once more. “Good girl,” he whispered before trailing soft kisses along your skin, his hands firm but gentle as they held you in place.
Before you could respond, his teeth sank into your skin again, this time in a different spot. The bite was just as sharp, if not sharper, and you gasped, your back arching involuntarily as another jolt of pain shot through you. The sting was immediate, but beneath it, there was a strange thrill, an intensity that made your heart race.
Your hands gripped the sheets even tighter as he bit down harder, holding the pressure for a few seconds longer this time. Warm tears begin to pour down your face. The sensation of his teeth against your skin left you both groaning in pain and caught in something deeper, more electric. Each mark he left felt like a brand, a reminder of just how much control he had over you in this moment.
Sylus didn’t pull back right away; instead, he lingered at your neck, sucking gently at the new mark he’d made, as if savoring the taste of your skin. Your breath hitched in your throat, your body trembling beneath him, torn between the sharp sting of the bite and the warmth that followed in its wake.
When he finally released you, he trailed slow, deliberate kisses over the fresh mark, his tongue grazing your skin in a way that made your head spin. You could feel the warmth of his breath, the possessive way his hands held you in place as if daring you to protest.
But you didn’t. You couldn’t. All you could do was lay there, breathless, as the intensity of it all washed over you.
Sylus looked down at you, his gaze full of smug satisfaction as he admired the new set of marks he’d left on your neck. His thumb grazed over them gently, tracing the outlines of his bites as if claiming you in some silent, unspoken way.
“You wear my marks well,” he said softly, his voice laced with amusement. “Perhaps you should challenge me more often, kitten.”
Unable to respond, you watch as his lips makes contact with yours again, gentle but devastating. Every nerve in your body sings for him at the contact, and you feel more warm tears finally slip from your eyes to drip down between your lips and his. He pulls back to look at you, wiping those tears away and sighing in pleasure at whatever expression he finds on your face. You curl your fingers in his shirt and tug him back to you, wanting to savor this, but also wanting more, so much more.
Your tongue slips past his, and your fingers tangle into the back of his hair of their own accord. He moans, honest to god moans into your mouth at the contact, and any pretense either of you may have had about this being only a kiss simply evaporates. His mouth moves more insistently against yours, hand cradling the entire side of your face, and you finally allow your hips to push forward, finding him fully hard this time.
He suddenly leans back and pulls his shirt over his head one-handed in a smooth, practiced motion. It's the hottest fucking thing you've ever seen. If you didn't know that almost certainly mind-blowing sex is soon to follow, you'd swear that there's nothing better on this earth than watching Sylus strip his own shirt off to bare that sinful chest.
He smirks down at you, resting one hand on your hipbone and snaking the other to the waistband of his pants, but that's more than you can take right now. You hook your legs around the back of his and pull him down, desperate, and you shudder as his clothed erection is finally brought flush against your arousal.
"Sylus, please," you whine, trusting that he knows what you're begging for. His fingers tighten and relax on your hip as if by reflex, and you can barely think straight around your need to have him inside you.
"You're sure?" he huffs, capturing your mouth again, and you'd laugh if you weren't fit to combust from desire.
"God, I'm sure." You don't think you've ever wanted anything more in your life, to be honest.
Sylus's lips pull up into another satisfied smirk against yours, and his fingers dig into your flesh with intent this time as he leans back again. "Maybe we should wait until you're more sober-"
"No!" you interrupt him, probably too quickly, and he quirks an eyebrow again. "Um, I mean...I'm good."
"You're good?" he asks, and fuck, it's so hard to think around this insistent, burning desire. You could sense his small hesitation and become desperate to ease his worries surrounding your state of mind.
"Yeah," you tell him again, as pointedly as you can while impatient with lust. "The nap really helped, I'm okay."
He hesitates a moment longer, and you feel like your about to combust with need.
"Sylus. I want you. All of you." You reach a hand out to cup the length of him through his pants, delighting in the narrowing in his eyes and the shudder that goes through him. A sudden thrill of confidence has you saying the filthiest thing you've ever said before you can stop yourself.
"I want you to cum inside me. Please."
You think the look in his eyes might be a little bit feral as he turns his full attention back to your body, tugging your skirt . He slips his fingers into your panties with no preamble, and he sighs appreciatively at the slick he feels there. "You've wanted this for a long time, haven't you?"
He's going to drive you insane, and when you tell him as much, his only response is to tear the garment down your legs, toss it behind him, and press two fingers inside of you. You choke and gasp his name as he grins wickedly down at you.
"Yeah, you have." He presses deeper, thumb brushing your clit, and you can't hold back a desperate cry.
"Sylus, please-"
"Fuck..." His eyes trail down to where his fingers are buried, and you'd be self-conscious if you had even a single brain cell to spare that isn't consumed by pleasure. "Do you know how long I've wanted this, gorgeous? The second I saw you in that costume I wanted to tear it off".
You can only gasp and buck your hips shamelessly as he continues, murmuring encouragement and looking both as smug and as charming as he ever has. This feels so good, so unreal, his slender fingers hitting all the right spots inside you while his thumb continues rubbing lazy circles outside. You can hardly believe that the same fingers your eyes have lingered on as they hold bullets or curl around a trigger - the same hands you've seen kill countless times - are now the gentle architects of your mind-numbing pleasure.
"Come on, that's it," Sylus coos with a particularly delicious quirk of those fingers, pulling you out of hazy memories and back to what you realize is now an imminent orgasm. Your eyes drag from the stark outline of his erection against his pants, up his chest and to his face, where you catch him biting his lip in his concentration.
"Sylus-" Your hips buck against his hand as the tension coils inside you. "I'm-"
"I know. Go head and cum kitten," he says with another devilish grin, and god, he's going to be the end of you.
"Sylus," you gasp again, reduced to this mindless desperation as his talented fingers work you while your release hovers just out of reach. "Please, I'm-"
He finally takes pity on you and ducks his head to seal his mouth over your clit, and fuck, what you wouldn't give for more of that, but after all this build-up, one brush of his tongue is all it takes to send you hurtling over the edge. Both of your hands fist in his hair as you shudder under him, gasping and keening, and you feel him groan against your sensitive flesh.
Eventually, he pulls away, though it takes you several more seconds to come back to earth. When you open your eyes, it's to find him stripped down to nothing, hovering over you again with a self-satisfied expression.
"God," you say, still not recovered, and then, because you can't help it, your eyes drop to his cock. It's as beautiful as the rest of him, rigid and straining for you. Your core throbs again as you realize that getting you off is what got him this worked up. Fuck.
How as that possibly going to fit?
"It'll fit, don't worry" he says, as if able to read your mind. You don't even have to look at him to know that he's grinning.
You groan and throw an arm over your eyes to resist the very real temptation to stare at Sylus's naked body for the rest of your life. You feel him move closer, dropping down onto his palms above you, and you lift your arm to watch him settle between your thighs like he's always belonged there.
"You want to do this?" he asks softly, red eyes searching yours for one last confirmation, and you respond with a few tiny, shaky nods. He brushes his thumb across your bottom lip with a quiet sigh. "Let me hear you say it, beautiful."
"Yes, Sylus," you plead, tears burning again at the corners of your eyes, and he hums his pleasure against your lips as he lines himself up. You inhale sharply through your teeth as you feel the first breach of his cock, holding that breath in your lungs as he slowly sinks in to the hilt. Christ, he's big.
"Breathe, kitten" he reminds you, still disarmingly gentle, though you can see the smug satisfaction plainly on his face. He braces himself on his forearms to pepper kisses along your neck and jaw, pulling out to slowly slide back in with a deep groan.
Your hands fist in his hair, and you think you might be onto something with that when his chuckle melts into a moan. He eyes lock onto yours as he buries himself as deep as he can again, and you're taken aback by the open adoration you see on his face - you can only hope your own face is mirroring that for him.
He slides out and in again, again, slowly falling into a steady rhythm that's better than anything you've ever felt in your life. For an endless time, there's nothing else - it's just the two of you, bodies coming together in pleasure, the occasional rougher thrust making you gasp his name as he mouths yours against your skin.
Sylus's hips suddenly still and he drops his head beside yours, heavy breaths hot against your ear. You shift underneath him, relishing the feel of his length still thick inside you but needy for him to move.
"Just need a second," he pants, sounding as wrecked as you feel. "I'm not ready to be done with you yet, sweetie."
And oh, if your heart (and your aethercore) could explode from words alone, those would do it. The most divine human being you've ever known is lying here staving off an orgasm so that he can keep fucking you. And he just called you sweetie.
Yeah, you're totally dead and gone.
You lie there for a few moments, matching your breaths to his and kneading your fingers into the firm planes of his back. An appreciative groan rumbles out of him, and he pulls back to slide out of you, silencing your noise of protest with a finger to your lips and a low chuckle.
"You'll get what you want," he admonishes, grasping one of your hips to give it a slight push. "Patience, kitten"
He leans back, and you catch a glimpse of his cock, hard against the vee of his hips and glistening with your wetness. Fuck. You shift your legs apart, and he's back on you immediately, one hand digging into the flesh of your ass and the other bracing itself next to your shoulder.
"Good girl," Sylus breathes into your ear, and you go boneless as he sheathes himself in your slick heat once more. "Good fucking girl, taking me so well."
You're beyond being able to respond to his filthy praise with anything other than gasps and moans, but he doesn't seem to mind, taking them as encouragement to fuck you even harder and bring your bodies flush together. When his hips snap forward, driving him deep, deeper, you swear you see stars. God, this angle is otherworldly, his cock hitting your most sensitive spot with each perfect thrust. Your hands cling desperately to his biceps, feeling those mouthwatering muscles ripple as he holds you tighter. Sylus's fingers wrap gently around your neck as his teeth nip your ear, and you cry out, feeling a familiar heat and tension begin to build within you.
"So close again?" he growls, each breath harsh as he fucks into you. "Shit...feels so fucking good."
Yeah, you're fucking close, if the steady stream of "yes" and "please" pouring from your lips and the almost painful way you're gripping his cock is anything to go on. You might even be sobbing now, who the fuck knows. His fingers clench against the pulse jumping in your neck, and there it is-
You glance up at him, muscles taut as he thrusts, and it's over for you, even before his eyes flick up to yours as he breathes,
"Cum for me."
Your body shakes against him as another orgasm barrels through you, and you think you might actually scream this time, which is a shame because you're sure Sylus is saying some delectable shit to you right now. He doesn't let up, cock still pounding into you relentlessly, and when you finally come down from your high, it's to find his moans coming out broken and his thrusts rougher than ever. He's close. He's right there. You're not sure what possesses you in that moment, but you reach a hand between your bodies and close your fingers gently around his balls. Your efforts are rewarded with stuttering hips and a glorious, drawn-out groan as Sylus cums hard, his face shoved roughly into your shoulder.
You take a moment as he pants against you, the aftershocks of your own orgasm still thrumming through you, to stare at the ceiling in disbelief that this is real life. You just had sex with Sylus. The leader of Onychinus. You're desperately in love with him and he might just feel the same about you.
When his hips finally still and he stops panting into your skin, you begin guide his face closer to yours, relishing the way he rests his full weight on top of you without thinking, dazed as he is in his own pleasure. He pulls your face toward his to capture your lips in another blistering kiss, this one unexpectedly tender after his ferocity only moments ago, and you moan softly through it at the feel of his cock still solid inside you.
You both catch your breath against the pillows for a few moments before he whispers that he's going to pull out, and you brace yourself for that final slide of his cock. Fuck, that should not feel as good as it does, especially considering that in the same second you have to clench your thighs to keep his release inside of you. Sylus lays on his back beside you with a sigh of contentment, and you turn carefully to lie right alongside him. You slide your hand over to his, not sure why you're feeling shy about this when you just got done being thoroughly fucked by him, but you feel relieved all the same when his fingers intertwine with yours.
Your breaths slow as you both lie quietly in the afterglow, and after a time, he turns to face you.
"I trust it goes without saying that you're welcome to stay as long as you like," he says, brushing your hair back from your face, and all of your emotions come rushing back. You love him. You love him.
"What if I never want to leave?" you whisper, and now it's spoken, now it's out there for him to do with as he will. He studies you for a long moment, and it could just be the light of the room reflecting in those red eyes, but you think you see them glistening.
"I think that could be arranged," he finally says, his voice as full of emotion as you've ever heard it, and you feel as though you're drowning in your love for this man. You swallow past the lump in your throat and throw him as playful a smile as you can manage.
"Well, that's good, because I feel your cum slipping out of me. Might need to put more back in there" you say, emboldened by his now obvious desire for you, but still feeling bashful as you say it. Both of his eyebrows shoot up, and he laughs, a deep, indulgent sound.
"Careful," he purrs, wrapping both arms around you like a vice. "Might get me going again."
"Plenty of time for that later," you tell him, leaning forward to bury yourself in his chest again, hoping your words carry the weight of the three specific ones you're still too embarrassed to say out loud.
"And more," he murmurs in your ear, arms tightening around you, his words sounding an awful lot like an unspoken affirmation to your unspoken vow.
This wasn't such a bad Halloween after all.
#umi writes ♡︎#love and deepspace#love and deepspace sylus#sylus x reader#love and deepspace smut#sylus#sylus x reader smut#lads#l&ds smut#sylus love and deepspace#lnds sylus#love and deep space sylus#l&ds sylus#lads sylus#lnds#sylus qin#lads smut#lads scenarios#sylusposting
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you've got a fetish for my love gym rat satoru & suguru x bottom male reader
"That's wraps, let's go take a shower Suguru I'm sweaty as hell."
The weights nestled on the bar slinked off as Suguru placed them back on the rack. A few tiring hours of bench presses, deadlifts, and other workouts were done on repeat until the men eventually felt that ache in their muscles that told them to stop.
"Right, I think we're done for today," Suguru hummed, gripping his water bottle and taking a quick chug of water before chucking it into his gym bag, zipping it up and walking to the showers before Satoru could even get himself packed up. Suguru was first to enter, pushing the doors to the men's shower rooms aside to place his bag down at the bench.
Steam billowed through one of the open stalls but Suguru brushed it off, it was an ungodly hour to be at the gym currently. One downside about these gym stalls were that the doors were practically non-existant, replaced by a raggedy plastic curtain that swayed with every slight movement. Guess the gym splurged all their money on the equipment and fancy parts of the interior rather than the bathrooms.
Suguru's eyes flickered down to the unaccompanied bag at the corner of the bench. It was yours, he recognised it from the key chain you placed on the zips to identify your bag.
"Suguru why didn't you wait—" Satoru burst into the shower rooms, complaints already stringing out of his lips, "Look, Satoru," Suguru pointed out, pointing at your bag and to the stall that had steam coming out of it.
"Oh, well he can fit two right?" Satoru chuckled, his chest rising and falling from the laugh, "Well he has done it before." That earned a nudge to the head by Suguru — who clearly didn't appreciate the sexual innuendo. "Well, if you don't wanna join me, I'll be going first," Satoru shrugged, peeling off his black shirt that clung to his body from all the sweat, and his pants, tossing it aside before he brutally ripped the shower curtain aside.
You had just finished some light cardio, something to get your body energised and your dopamine levels running. You chose an early morning to go to the gym, wanting to avoid stripping naked infront of other buff and sweaty men and the sheer awkwardness of squeezing past boisterous conversations as you try to find yourself an empty stall.
You thought you were safe, but when are you really when Satoru Gojo is pursuing you? The shower curtain ripping open pulled a yelp from deep inside your heart, goosebumps covering your skin. When the familiar tuffs of white hair came into your view, there was only one person who would intrude on your space like this.
"Cmon 'Toru, you're gonna give this poor man a heart attack one day," Suguru sighed, appearing beside Satoru. Now both of the men were crowding your space, the water still cascading down your back. They were both glistening with sweat, the evidence of a hard workout there.
"Hey, why didn't you tell us you were at the gym today?" Satoru feigned a sad puppy-dog pout, his hands finding their way to where your waist met your hips. He squeezed the soft flesh there, humming contently; it was something he loved about you, your body was just right.
"Thought you guys were busy," You mumbled, your eyes tracing Suguru's calm movements as he slipped past Satoru and placed himself behind you, chest against your back. "Doesn't mean you can't shoot us a message," Suguru cooed, coiling his fingers in your hair as he pressed lightly against your lower back.
"I second that," Satoru chuckled, his fingers traced circles on your belly, "Since you won't workout with us in the gym... you can 'work out' with us in here," He grinned, leaning in to nip a kiss at your nose before his hands met your cock. Your whole body jolted at the sudden touch, and Suguru held your biceps, squeezing you slightly as a reassurance. You could feel Suguru's hands dip down to your ass, kneading the fat there before he spat on his own dick, rubbing it against your puckered hole to smear his make-shift lube.
"Ah, shit you make me so hard," Satoru grumbled, his pearly whites hooked on his baby pink lip, using his spare hand to jerk himself off while slipping his thumb over your tip. "This is kinda lewd, hey?" He groaned — a smirk plastered all over his face — "Both your boyfriends fucking you in the showers of a public gym." Satoru's fingers wrapped around himself and yours, bringing both your dicks together into his hand.
"We both know this is a sick fantasy of yours, 'Toru" Suguru retorted, slowly pushing himself into you with a low groan. His fingers twitched on your back, the pads of his fingers digging into your skin as he watched yourself stretch to accommodate for his size, "Shit, you really do know how to take us, huh?"
"W–wait," You gasped, your palms flushing against Satoru's chest, you couldn't tell if that was water on him or sweat. Satoru turned a blind ear to your pleas, rolling his hips against yours as he kept his fist clenched, forcing your cocks to grind together. The stimulation from the front and the back was enough to get your knees going limp.
"Don't give out on us yet, prince," Suguru cooed gently into your ear, nudging himself in just a little deeper before pulling all the way out and slamming back in. "Oh fuck," Suguru moaned, his thick fingers clawed at your hips. Like he got the sudden motivation seeing Suguru so drunk on your insides, Satoru sped up his hands, pumping the both of you. You could feel every twitch and vein bulging against your own length, he was close.
"Shitshitshitshit, I think I'm gonna cum," Satoru whined, thrusting up into his hand, chasing that sweet release, ""Gonna make a mess outta you," He sputtered, his hand squelched with every stroke. Suguru stayed quiet, but your ears were more trained to him. Every soft groan or stutter in breath from Suguru didn't go unnoticed, he was practically panting in your ear.
Stretching you out like you were elastic was something Suguru took pride in taking his time to do. He knew he found your sweet spot when your hips jerked, squirming in their shared grasp, "Stay still f'me," He whispered, linking his muscular forearm right underneath your chest.
It was all too much, your eyes flitted up to meet Satoru's blue ones, his white eyelashes covered most of the blue since he was so focused on your body and his mouth was agape, short breaths coming out. His once spiky hair was now down, stuck to his forehead from the mixture of sweat and water. Your brain alternated focus from the two men so quickly you found yourself in a daze trying to keep up.
"Hah, look at you, your face looks so fucked out," Satoru teased, leaning in to catch your tongue hanging from your mouth and pulled you in for a wet kiss. You felt his dick pulse a few times before he moaned into your mouth, shooting out a load onto your stomach while you followed closely after him. It was a mix of both your messes, "It's like making slime," Satoru laughed, carding his fingers through his hair.
"You're ruining the moment, Satoru," Suguru groaned at Satoru's childish behaviours — did this man ever grow up? "My bad, Sugu, want me to help you?" Satoru grinned, pulling your upper body towards him and planting your head onto his shoulder. He let your head rest in the crook of his collarbone before his arms reached down to your ass, spreading you apart for Suguru.
"Thanks," Suguru gruffly murmured. He bent down slight so he could reach even deeper, pistoning his hips against your ass. You cried out onto Satoru's shoulder, the knot growing in your stomach for a second time. "Good job baby, look you're taking Suguru's dick so well," Satoru whistled watching as Suguru's cock get enveloped by your hole.
"He's so tight I think I might snap in half," Suguru groaned, his hair falling off his shoulders and barley reached your back. Suguru hissed when you clenched down a bit more, your warm gummy walls milked his cock. "Take it all baby, you deserve it," He purred, burying himself to the hilt before je orgasmed, painting your insides with his semen.
Suguru's palm loosened on your hips, trailing down to your stomach and rubbed it gently, "Good boy." Satoru laughed, bringing his hands back up to ruffle your hair, "Enough cardio? Alright, let's get you actually cleaned up before you turn into a rasin from all the water."
a / n ; not proof read as always TT also my first time writing a threesome ! I left Satoru and Suguru's relationship open , I know some people are more into that love ... arrow ?
#servicpop — fics/drabbles#bottom male reader#male reader#sub male reader#jjk x male reader#jjk smut#gojo x male reader#x male reader#x male reader smut#gojo satoru x male reader#geto suguru x male reader#jujutsu kaisen x male reader
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warnings. sub!tyun, noona!reader, desperate shit, degrading, use of whore/slut, handjob
flirt freshman!taehyun who, even if he looks polite and at times would even be described as cute, is definitely a heartbreaker. stringing along, fucking, then ghosting.
you see right through his nice guy act when he subtly hits on you, flashing you his white pearls, blinding smile that show off his dimpled cheeks and the way his eyes form into crescents, his simple charms almost, almost having an effect on you. but you know better, you’ve already passed this chapter of your life, getting yourself fucked over by cute assholes. so you reject any and all advances that he makes on you, even as so far as to completely ignore him whenever he addresses you in a group setting.
you wanted to protect yourself, because again, you knew better. but what you dont realize is how often your blatant rejections have been either straight up cruelly humiliating or just plain harsh to the younger boy. not until you’re stuck with taehyun as you awkwardly wait in the car for your friends.
“why dont you like me?” he starts, quiet as he looks out the window. you turn to look at him, a little astonished that he decided to confront you. then you quickly recollect yourself, clearing your throat.
“who told you that?”
he scoffs, a sneer retching his expression. “you’re kidding aren’t you? i don’t think i know anybody more repulsed with me than you. everyone can see it. you almost jumped out of the car when they told you i was going to sit in the back tonight.”
it’s like hes been keeping all of his thoughts behind a lock with how fast everything spilled out of his mouth and you take in a breath. “okay now that’s an exaggeration.”
“not really.”
then it falls silent again, hearing the distant horns of cars and you awkwardly shift. he’s right, its not.
then suddenly, his eyes shift from the window to you, and the eye contact catches you off guard, you can make out the slight furrow of his brows and the small pout that rests on his lips—you’ve never seen him look like that. you avert your gaze almost immediately.
but he’s still staring. and it has you nervously tapping your finger on your lap.
“i like you, noona.”
your eyes widen a little. not because of the confession, you knew it was coming eventually. something about this variation of gentleness with his voice that you don’t think you’ve quite heard…ever coming from a man has your heart beat just a little faster. noona? its nothing new coming from taehyun, but your hands still slight dig into the fabric of your skirt. “if that wasn’t already obvious enough.” he says bitterly with a non humored laugh.
you spend the entire night, staring at your blank empty google doc, wallowing in all thoughts related to taehyun. it kind of pisses you off that he’s managed to chip a little away from your wall, you usually disperse any thought that comes up in your head that has to do with him. but now you choose to give yourself a leeway, just a little to think over whether he was being genuine, and whatever happened in the car was taehyun serving his heart on the platter to be so…vulnerable, or if it was just the last trick up his sleeve to lure you in like a toy he can’t have.
but then you remember the little features—the way his brows slightly turned up, the way his bottom lip instinctively stuck out, just a tiny bit—the way his eyes twinkled, just somewhat, as cliché as it is to say, it felt genuine, real.
when taehyun sends you a text that night, with a string of other unread messages from weeks or days ago before it—you come to the conclusion that he likes you, really likes you.
sorry, ignore what i said today
i don’t want you feeling uncomfortable around me any more than you do
your heart swells a little, simultaneously feeling the guilt conscience slowly creeping up on you. maybe you really did misread him this entire time.
so imagine your surprise when the next time you see taehyun, a week later, it’s at a frat party, looking down at a girl clinging onto his arms with those same twinkling eyes, smile, dimples, gentle look—eventually laughing then biting down on his lips as he looks away, the red on tips of his ears making you fume more than you’d admit. you don’t know what it was, what exactly made you insane enough to stomp over to him in long strides, wobbly pushing through the drunks, seeing red as you grab taehyun by the arm when he’s of reach—the surprised look on his face only lasting for a second before you furiously turn around, dragging him away from the confused girl that he was getting way too flirty with.
he could’ve easily shaken off your grip, it was weak, but he followed, he let you take him, only when you push him in a non occupied room and lock the door does he finally say something.
“hey, what the fuck was that—”
then you go for it. throwing all logical justifications and reasoning, you pull him into you harshly by the collar of his shirt, crashing your lips onto his. you don’t know what you expected, up to now it felt like you’ve been on airplane mode, but you know it wasn’t what taehyun returns. even if youre the one who came onto him first, he kisses back even more passionately, leaning into you, so quick to be receptive, hands going up to your cheeks as he lets you walk him hard into the door, latching onto your lips as if its a taste of a drug that has him hooked right from the first dose.
he’s so…desperate, it scares you, and turns you on at the same time. every time you try to pull away a little he reels you back almost immediately following your lips, the kiss becoming open mouthed as he breathes in and gets more and more messy, sloppy—he’s so sloppy, it’s the last thing you expected from him.
you finally manage to pull away, both of you catching your breath, with his lips glistening and red, mouth agape, chest heaving, up and down as he stares stunned.
“wha—um, so—fuck, sorry, no wait—” hes stumbling over his words. again, something taehyun never does. whenever hes spoken to you, it always felt so calculated, like every word hes thought over, because it felt so perfect. hes always collected.
you clasp your hand over his mouth, weakly, but he stills shuts up his ramble and jumble of words, blinking at you, with those god damn adorable brown eyes.
“kindly, shut the fuck up.”
his brows twitch a little, but he’s still silent.
your eyes search for something in his, you don’t know what, but it feels like you’ve gotten a green light, sighing. “i wanna fuck you.”
“shit.” he marvels, feeling his breath against your palm, his eyes still just as wide. you don’t know what exactly he’s thinking but if the dick already poking against your thigh was any indication, it was that he wanted it. really bad.
you slip your hand off his lips, then you whisper, fixated on how plump they are, “open your mouth.”
he blinks confused, hesitant until you take it upon yourself to rub your thigh against the tent in his pants, having him almost immediately buckle as he lets out a sinful groan. you should know he’s probably not into what you’re into, so you ease into it, testing the waters as you press yourself flush against him, rubbing your leg up and down against his clothed dick. “feel good?”
“y-yeah, shit, noona, please touch me.”
“i am touching you,” you swipe your hand over his bottom lip, fuck, they really are pretty. and so kissable. you’re shocked you haven’t kissed them sooner.
“no, i want your hand.”
you scoff, he’s so confident with what he wants, and so demanding. bratty. he’s probably so used to dominating. “this isn’t enough? me getting off your crusty dick isn’t enough for you? you’re feeling good, aren’t you?”
you press harder and with no consent of his own, his breaths knocked out of him, a slight squeak by the end that has his ears running red again. your thumb slips into his mouth, easing into it, slowly, before you fully press on his tongue as the friction of your knees against his cock gets more and more frantic and torturous. “you tell me you like me then decide i’m not worth the headache, a week later you run off to another innocent girl you’ll try to break the heart of after getting your fill. someone needs to keep you in check for becoming such an asshole, no? do you have no shame?” you mock, feeding him another finger in his mouth so he can’t retort like you know the smartass in him would do.
he sucks on them, surprising you as you feel his tongue licking eagerly…fuck, how badly did you misread him?
but you can tell with the way his eyes involuntarily water, and the way he shakes his vehemently, he still has the audacity to deny everything.
you scoff, slipping them out of his mouth, string of his saliva coating your fingers and shoving that hand down his pants, promplty grabbing his dick, marveling at the soft, wet feel. he already spilled so much pre-cum—slut. he likes this.
“you don’t like me, you have no right to be jea—hahhh..fuck, you can’t be jealous, you c-can’t. shit, faster, faster please noona, noona…” he whines, delirious as he gets lost at the feeling of your hand, bucking his hips, clearly getting frustrated with how irritatingly slow you’re tugging at his dick.
“i don’t. i don’t like you. i don’t like slutty men who’re bad.”
he whimpers, and fuck does that noise have you pooling your underwear.
“how have i been bad? how? i’m always good to you, i always—”
you twist your hand a little and his head immedietely falls back against the door, mouth hung open as he lets out pathetic, needy pants, “fuck, fuck, fuck.”
“like it? is it how you imagined it’d feel to have my hands wrapped around your cock?” you press, kissing down his jawline, hand letting out wet sounds as you jerk him off with more speed
“yes, yes, so much better noona, so much—” he chokes on his own words when you suck on his neck, feeling him let out shuddering breaths. cute.
when you use your other hand to trail up under his shirt, feeling up his muscle, you can hear him gulp, and for whatever reason, it turns you on even more.
“fuck, you’ve been trying to dom me, haven’t you?” he breathes out.
you let out an airy laugh out of your nose, grazing your thumb over his nipple, the hitch of his breath being your undoing. “i have been domming you—this entire time. what, don’t like it when a womans in charge?”
he shakes his head immediately, “no, no, i like it. i really do, i like it a lot. i like it when its you, noona.”
even when you have his mind sent to overdrive, he still knows exactly what to say to have your heart racing, it’s dangerous.
“hm?” you hum, throat dry, trying to forget the comment thats repeating over and over in your head. he likes it when its you. you scoff a laugh, “you really know how to get a girl going huh?”
“would treat you right. give me a chance noona, i’ll treat you like a queen.”
“a queen?” you laugh, then pretend to ponder on it as you play with his bud more, his dick leaking through your hand—he’s enjoying it all too much. “think would like goddess more.”
he moans wantonly when you thumb his tip, then transitioning to jacking off his shaft in frantic speed, it gets him delirious. “goddess, goddess, fuck—i’ll treat you like a goddess baby, swear.”
“sure you wouldn’t ghost me?”
his breath hitches again, head dipping into your shoulder, jaw practically hung open, mix of moans and whines spilling out of his mouth dumbly—who would’ve thought, huh? “never. so pretty, you’re so pretty and smart, and and—”
“such a slut, just want your dick touched and you’ll say anything.”
you feel him shake his head, still panting heavily as he grabbles onto you for support. he’s clingier than you expected, he holds onto you so often.
“faster…faster please, ‘m sososo close.” he sobs, his shaky breath fanning on your shoulder.
you chuckle, giving him what he wants, the wet squelching sounds heightening until he breaks. “gonna—gonna-” he spills before he could even finish his sentence, with a high pitched noise he cums in his pants, no doubt creating a big stain in the area of his crotch.
well, shit.
but when he lifts his head, a dopey smile on his face, eyes glazed over still, you think he might not mind all too much.
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note. long overdue sub taehyun and a noona smut from me 🙏 did they fuck. no. will there be a future continuation of this au. perhaps.
#txt smut#sub!txt#sub!idol#taehyun smut#taehyun hard thoughts#taehyun hard hours#txt hard hours#txt hard thoughts#txt x reader#yeonjun smut
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I know you already did the 141 boys when their wife gives birth (which was fantastic btw) but maybe if they missed the birth because of a mission or whatever else your brilliant mind can think of!
Don't give me compliments because then I'll follow you home like a cat and you'll never get rid of me 😖
Price
(This goes for all the men, really) but he's absolutely gutted to not be with you as you're giving birth
Honestly, if he had the choice, he would've rather lobbed off his own arm than miss such a momentous occasion in both your lives
It’s nothing less than the literal fate of the world that's keeping him from you, and he makes sure to reiterate that over and over again
The only thing that gives Price a bit of peace of mind when leaving you at a time like this is knowing you have a strong support system to help you through it
And boy oh boy does he put those friends and family members to use by having them constantly text him with every update imaginable
What time your water breaks, how far apart your contractions are, how much you've dilated, so on and so on. He wants to know it all
While he has to remain focused during the bulk of the mission, when he's able to, he's whipping out his phone to scroll through the literal hundreds of messages that await him
The updates are so plentiful and detailed that if he tries hard enough, he can almost pretend like he was right there beside you all along
And once he gets to the pictures of you holding your little one for the first time, well… he's not afraid to admit that he sheds a manly tear or two at the sight
Soap
He kicked up quite the storm at work when he realized he was going to be missing the birth of his child
He did everything in his power to try to get out of the mission – to try to get back to you – but, ultimately, he had no other choice than to go
But he's not just going to go gently into the night. No, he has a few tricks up his sleeve to make it as if he's still there with you in some capacity
Like Price, Soap takes comfort in leaving you with a huge support system to help while he's away
And also similarly, he's recruiting your loved ones (more so their phones) into letting him video chat with you whenever he gets the opportunity
(Does that mean he snuck his unauthorized smartphone into the middle of a battlefield? …. Yes. Yes, he did. .……....… Don't tell Price)
You'll be in the midst of a call with him and a bullet will fly right by his head and embed itself in the wall behind him
Of course, this has you incredibly concerned, worrying over how you're distracting him when he should be focused on his mission
But he assures you there's no need to fret, dear. He's perfectly safe and everything’s completely fine
(Oh, and just disregard that sound in the background, hun. No, it wasn't a bomb. Heavens, no! It was a… a… piano falling out a window)
Gaz
Even when he's away on mission during normal circumstances, he's calling home all the time to check in with you
But given your current state, now he's checking in twice as much as he usually does
Expect a minimum of three calls a day just to ensure things are still all hunky dory on your end
It's during one of these calls that your water breaks, and as you fly into a state of panic, forgetting everything you're supposed to do, Gaz has to calmly walk you through the steps of what you'd planned
He's able to talk you down and make sure you get yourself to the hospital in one piece, but then after that call, weirdly, you don't hear from him again
It's not until several hours later when you've already delivered your child that you're awoken by the feeling of someone beside your bed
You look to see who it is and it's none other than Gaz himself – still dressed in his full gear, covered in all sorts of dirt and grime, a hushed apology pouring from his mouth
He's so sorry he couldn't get there quick enough, beautiful. He left as soon as he could once he'd pulled a few strings with Price
But you don't even care about the excuse because you're quickly enveloping him in a hug. With tears in your eyes, you assure him it's alright. He's here now, and that's all that matters to you
Ghost
When he was informed he was being shipped off to a remote location less than a month before your due date, he was livid
No phone, no radio, no communication of any kind with the outside world and he was supposed to be okay with that? He very much wasn't
The higher-ups had to really hammer home the whole “safety of the world” thing to convince Ghost to go, and even when he did, he did so grudgingly
He finds that as he sits in this shoddy shack halfway across the planet from you, all he can do is keep a mental tally of everything he’s missing
Going with you to your final check ups, helping you pack your hospital bag, holding your hand as you begin to push, etc. etc. etc.
But what about things he might not know about? What if something's gone wrong while he's been away?
He can't let himself think on it too much because he'll end up putting his fist through the drywall, and he needs at least one good hand to hold his child with when he meets them for the first time
Seven weeks, four days, and nine hours after he shipped out, Ghost is on a plane back home
He doesn't stop to talk to anyone when he touches down at base (not even to report to his superiors). He just gets into his car and books it, not letting off the gas until he's parked outside your home again
And when he finally reaches the front door, an unexpected tremor passing through him as he grabs for the handle, he closes his eyes, takes in a deep breath, and walks inside, beginning the next chapter of his life
#wiw asks#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#john price x reader#captain john price x reader#captain price x reader#john mactavish x reader#john soap mactavish x reader#soap x reader#kyle garrick x reader#kyle gaz garrick x reader#gaz x reader#female reader#simon riley#john price#john mactavish#kyle garrick#tf 141 x reader#task force 141 x reader#cod x reader#cod mw2#call of duty#modern warfare 2
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“so you miss me when you’re tipsy, huh?”
PART TWO
Chris Sturniolo x fem!reader
part one HERE
In which; Your best friend Chris takes care of you when you show up to his house wasted , fluffy fluff
⋆·˚ ༘ * ⋆·˚ ༘
It was later in the night now, and the music seemed to get louder as the club filled with even more people. You felt your body starting to drag with exhaustion, the drinks you’d had finally catching up to you. Your friends were still dancing, but you were over it.
Your phone buzzed, and you glanced down, blinking a few times to steady your vision. A small smile creeps onto your lips , seeing It was Chris checking in, just like he said he would.
You stared at the message, suddenly feeling a wave of emotions hit you all at once. The fun, the drinks, the noise, it was all starting to feel like too much. You just wanted to leave, to be somewhere quiet
You typed back, fingers fumbling slightly, trying your best to make the letters string together in your drunken state
it took seconds for chris to respond
Relief washed over you. He always had your back. You said your goodbyes to your friends, ignoring their protests, and stumbled your way to the front of the club. Stepping outside made you realise how drunk you really were, but the cold air woke you up just a little as you spotted the silver car pulling up. You climbed in, beginning to hear your heart thumping in your ears now the music was gone.
~
Before you knew it, you were standing in front of Chris’ place, swaying slightly as you fumbled to close the Uber door behind you. The driver gave you a sympathetic nod before pulling away, and you wobbled towards the front door.
The door opened before you even had a chance to knock. There he was, standing in the doorway, looking like the most familiar thing in the world. His eyes softened when he saw you, taking in your disheveled state.
“Chrissss” you sing, as you go to step towards him, tripping over your own feet. Chris lunges to catch you,
“Woah kid, easy” he says, steadying you by your waist. “Oopsy” you mumble , resting your forehead against his chest , his familiar scent lingering in your nose.
“Alright, I got you, c’mon-” he murmured, his voice soothing as he scooped you up into his arms without hesitation. “-let’s get you inside”
Your arms wrapped lazily around his neck as he carried you through the front door, closing it behind him with his foot.
“You dont have to carry me” you slurred with a sleepy smile, your head resting against his chest.
Chris chuckled “Yeah, but when’s the last time you made it anywhere on your own two feet when you’re this drunk,huh?” he teased, looking down at you with a smirk.
You groaned, half-laughing. “Rude”
“Honest” he shot back playfully, shifting you in his arms as he carried you up the stairs, through living room “Besides, you always like it when I carry you”
All you could do is giggle as his response, he was right, whether you admitted it or not, you loved it.
When you reached his bedroom, Chris gently set you down on the edge of the bed. You start to sway lightly in your spot, eyes unable to focus properly. He chuckled as he stood over you “You’re a mess, you know that?”
You just giggled in response, the sound muffled by how tired you felt.
He knelt down infront of you, his hands resting on your knees. “Alright, let’s get you out of this stuff” he said softly. He started with your shoes, slipping them off one by one before looking up at you. “Can you lift your arms for me?”
You blinked at him slowly, still processing his words. He smiled and lightly guided your hands up, helping you out of your shirt. It slipped over your head, and he tossed it aside, “Gonna grab you one of my shirts, alright?” he said, standing to pull out one of his big t-shirts from his dresser. He came back over, and with the same gentleness, he helped you put it on, tugging it down over your body.
Next, he hooked his fingers around the waistband of your skirt. “You want this off too ma?” he asked, waiting for your nod of permission.
You gave a small, sleepy nod as you try your best to raise your hips slightly, and he carefully slid the skirt down your legs. He threw it aside and stood up, turning to grab a makeup wipe from the drawer he had prepared for you. He knelt before you once again, gently cupping your face, starting to wipe away the makeup as you blinked at him with heavy, glazed-over eyes.
“You’re always taking care of me” you murmured, your voice slurred
He smiled, his thumb brushing your cheek as he finished cleaning your face. “Mm-Hmm, wouldn’t want it any other way”
Chris rose to his feet “Let me grab you some water”
You whined, reaching out to grab his arm. “Nooo, don’t leavvvvee”
He grinned ,before leaning forward and kissing the top of your head. “I’ll be right back, promise”
You let out a big huff, as he laughs at your neediness, disappearing to the kitchen.
It took him only a minute to grab a glass of water from the kitchen, and when he returned, he sat down next to you on the edge of the bed “Here” he said, holding the glass out to you.
You took it, taking a couple of small sips, the icy water doing wonders for your dry throat. You hold the glass back out to him as he raises his eyebrows “Few more f’me” he softly orders. You sigh before bringing the glass back to your lips, taking multiple gulps. “Good girl” he whispers, before taking the glass and going to put it on the bedside table, and pulling the bed covers back.
He makes his way back to you, scooping you up bridal style and placing you in bed properly. You watch as he takes off his shirt, climbing in next to you. Chris pulls the covers over both of you before wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you close. You immediately nuzzled into him, resting your head on his chest as you let out a content “Mmphm-“
“-I missed you” you whispered, your words almost inaudible against his chest.
“I missed you too” Chris whispered back pressing a kiss to the top of your head. His hand rubbed soothing circles on your back, putting you in a state of peaceful drowsiness.
With your last bit of consciousness, you felt his hand intertwine in your hair, laying long soft strokes, “Sleep, sweetheart-“ he whispered, his voice soft and comforting “-I’ve got you”
⋆·˚ ༘ * ⋆·˚ ༘
MASTERLIST
taglist; @sturnobsessedwh0re @nayveetbhh
@phone4pills @demzzz @sturniooolos
@monroesturnns @mattsbitchh @pvssychicken @tsturniolo4 @brianna-grace12
@blahbel668
@stvrlighht @witchofthehour @ilyttmatsa @asherrisrandom @l0ver-i
@starstrucktyrantinfluencer @fratbrochrisgf @emely9274
@chriseatingmeoutin4k @slvttie-zx
@bbybloop @sturnn372 @chrissturnsss @slut4m4tt @izzylovesmatt
@spideylovin
#sturniolo triplets#chris sturniolo#chris sturniolo fluff#chris sturniolo fanfic#chris sturniolo imagine#chris sturniolo x you#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fluff
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hii can you plsss do college fling!joshua too (with smut if you like!) thank you <3
warnings: smut, dorm-kitchen counter sex, clit stimulation, penetrative sex, dirty talk, teasing.
college fling!joshua’s definitely not the type to be found at some wild frat party, shirt half-buttoned, shouting about shots. he’s more… chill. like, you can see him with a small group of people, maybe talking about some obscure trivia fact or just hanging back with his guitar, strumming casually. and you notice him in those quiet corners, head down, minding his business, but when people need help, he’s there, no hesitation. just this soft smile, eyes that look like they’ve got their own glow. no front, no ego.
it’s karaoke night when you really notice him, though. one of those lowkey, “organized by the student council” kinda nights, where everyone’s already a little awkward, shifting in their seats, waiting for someone to break the ice. and there’s joshua, sitting off to the side, fingers tapping lightly against his leg to the beat of some old song. you’re not even surprised when the karaoke machine starts acting up, some tech issue, because of course, it would. you glance over at joshua, who's already looking around for someone to fix the damn thing. you try messing with the settings on the machine yourself, but the screen flashes error messages, and honestly, you just wanna punch the damn thing. you groan under your breath, “seriously? i’m not dealing with this shit right now.”
“need a hand?” joshua’s voice pulls you out of your frustration, and you turn to see him standing there, that soft smile of his doing most of the talking. like he’s amused at your mini-meltdown but too nice to say it.
“yeah, this thing’s giving me hell.” you lean back, giving up for a second, hands raised like you’re surrendering to the machine. “you know anything about fixing this?”
“nah, but i can try,” he says, stepping in a little closer. and you can smell him—fresh, like he doesn’t even have to try. just naturally… clean, if that’s a thing. his fingers brush the buttons, the machine beeping a little, but still refusing to cooperate. he chuckles under his breath. “guess it’s not in the mood.”
you smirk, feeling the tension ease a little with him around. “yeah, technology’s a bitch sometimes.”
“always.” he laughs, this soft, almost shy sound, but then his gaze lands on the guitar sitting by the stage. “y’know… if this thing’s not working, we could just do it old-school.”
you raise a brow, curious. “old-school? like… live music?”
he nods, picking up the guitar like it’s second nature to him. “yeah, i mean… it’s karaoke night, right? we’ll make our own music.” there’s something about the way he says it, all easy and laid-back, that makes you wanna go along with it. he’s not pushy, but you feel pulled in by his vibe. the room’s already a bit more relaxed, people chatting amongst themselves, so you shrug and sit back on one of the chairs in front of the stage. “alright, hit me with your best shot.”
he laughs, adjusting the guitar strap, and then strums a few chords, testing the waters. it’s a familiar tune, something simple and nostalgic, and he hums along softly, almost like he’s figuring out the right words to sing. and when he finally starts, his voice is buttery smooth, like it was made to just slip into your ears and settle in. it’s not showy, not overly polished, just nice. like something you didn’t know you needed until you heard it. you can’t help but watch him, a little too closely maybe, as his fingers move over the strings, his body swaying a little with the rhythm. his eyes flick up to yours, and for a split second, it’s like the room disappears. there’s just you and him, and this stupid little connection through music. cheesy as hell just like the barbie's movie says, but it’s there.
“you wanna sing along?” he asks, like he’s already expecting you to say no, but he’s hopeful anyway.
you bite your lip, half-laughing. “if i do, i’ll ruin the vibe.”
he tilts his head, amused. “nah, you won’t. c’mon, what’s your go-to song?”
you hesitate, feeling a little exposed, but then screw it. if joshua can stand up there and casually play a whole damn song in front of people, you can at least join him. you mutter the name of some old song, and before you know it, he’s playing the first chords. you start singing, a little unsure at first, but his guitar backs you up, makes you feel more confident.
and it’s weird, ‘cause it’s so not what you expected to be doing tonight—singing a duet with joshua hong of all people. but here you are, the two of you vibing, making the room your own little bubble for a while.
after a while, you stop caring if anyone else is even paying attention. it’s just fun, and you’re actually enjoying yourself, which… yeah, is rare for these kinds of school-organized things.
“see? not so bad, right?” he says, a little breathless, guitar still in his hands.
“yeah, i guess that wasn’t too bad,” you admit, feeling your face heat up a little.
and just like that, you’re kinda hooked. you don’t even know why, but there’s something about how easy it is with him. he’s not forcing anything, just letting shit happen, and it’s fun. more fun than you’ve had in a while, honestly. “thanks for, uh… saving karaoke night,” you say, trying not to sound as flustered as you feel.
he shrugs, smile never leaving his face. “anytime. but, um… maybe next time, we won’t need the machine at all.”
and there it is again, that little spark of something—like he’s leaving the door open for whatever comes next. not pushing, not expecting. just waiting to see if you’re gonna step through.
you smile back at him, feeling your heart beat just a little faster. “yeah… maybe.”
college fling!joshua that would approach you with his shy ass in the hallway like it wasn’t a big deal, but it was. ‘cause he wasn’t the type to just walk up to someone and invite them over. you weren’t expecting it either. but there he was, scratching the back of his neck, trying to play it casual like it didn’t take him a full two minutes to get the words out.
“uh… i’m having a few friends over on friday. you know, snacks, music, nothing crazy. you should come.”
you remember his smile, that little tilt of his lips that had your stomach flipping like you’d already said yes before your brain could process. and obviously, you agreed.
so friday night rolls around, and you’re standing in front of his dorm in this fresh little dress you threw on last minute. not like you’re trying to impress him or anything, but you catch the way his eyes drop the second you step in. joshua’s trying to keep it together, but you can feel his gaze like a burn, lingering on your legs before he quickly looks away. there’s this subtle hitch in his breath when he greets you, and his cheeks turn a little pink, but he pulls himself back into being the polite, nice guy he is.
his dorm’s small but neat, smelling like fresh laundry and some subtle citrus scent from the diffusers he’s got stashed in the corners. there’s a few of his friends scattered around, all of them chill, chatting over music that’s playing just loud enough to vibe to. joshua’s close-knit group, not the party type, exactly what you expected. he’s quick to make sure you’ve got everything—“you want a drink? water? soda?”—and then asks if you need a blanket when he notices your legs.
“you good? it’s a bit chilly, i can grab something if you want.”
you almost laugh at how hard he’s trying to be respectful, like the thought of your legs exposed is messing with him more than he’s willing to admit. but you shake your head, leaning back on the couch with your drink and teasing him a little. “i’m fine, joshua. don’t worry.”
he gives you this awkward smile like he’s low-key relieved, but you see him still trying to fight his instincts to look.
after a couple of hours, his friends head out, leaving the place a little messy—empty cups and snack wrappers scattered on the table. you’re quick to start picking things up, despite joshua’s protests.
“seriously, you don’t have to clean up. i got it.”
but you insist, throwing away trash and stacking cups, and before you know it, it’s just the two of you alone in his small dorm. the quiet settles in, just the low hum of music in the background, and you notice how much more intense it feels without anyone else around. joshua’s hovering by the window, glancing out towards the campus, and then he shuts it without saying anything, locking the latch with this quiet click.
“just in case,” he mutters to himself, not looking at you.
you’re leaning against the counter now, arms crossed, watching him. there’s something in the way he’s moving slower. like he’s waiting for you to make the next move. but you don’t, ‘cause part of you wants to see where he’ll take it.
joshua turns, finally meeting your eyes again, and it’s different this time. there’s no one else here, no distractions, and he’s got that nervous energy radiating off him. “thanks for, uh, staying to help,” he says, his voice softer now, stepping a little closer.
“no problem.” you smile, and it’s so obvious what’s happening, but neither of you is calling it out.
he’s standing in front of you now, closer than he was before, eyes flicking between yours and then down to your lips. it’s subtle, but you catch it, and it’s like that’s all the signal you needed. your heart’s racing, but you stay calm, lifting your chin just slightly as if daring him to do something.
and he does.
slowly, almost like he’s scared to break the moment, joshua reaches out, one hand finding your waist, his fingers hesitant at first. then he pulls you in, just enough that there’s barely any space left between your bodies. you feel the warmth of him, and when he leans down, his breath ghosts over your lips.
you can tell he’s thinking about it—overthinking, probably—because he pauses, eyes searching yours, like he’s waiting for you to stop him. but you don’t. instead, you close the gap, brushing your lips against his. he lets out this shaky breath, and suddenly his hands are on you, one cupping your face, the other steadying your waist. he deepens the kiss, slow but knowing, like he’s taking pleasure in every second. his lips are warm, soft, but there’s this need in the way he moves.
your hands find their way to his chest, fingers curling into the fabric of his shirt, pulling him closer. he responds by pressing you back against the counter, not forceful, but enough that you can feel the solidness of his body, everything intensifying.
“is this… okay?” he mumbles against your lips, his voice low and breathless, and you swear the way he asks, so fucking polite in the middle of a heated kiss, makes you want to open your legs for him even more.
“yeah, joshua,” you whisper back, pulling him in tighter.
his lips are still on yours, but there’s nothing sweet about the way he’s kissing you anymore. “turn around.” your breath catches because the tone’s different. he’s not asking now, he’s telling, and the sudden deep voice is doing things to you. so you turn around, heart racing, hands bracing yourself against the counter. you feel his body press up behind yours, and his hand, slides down your waist, squeezing, as he grinds into you. it’s slow, teasing, and already you can feel how hard he is through his jeans.
“fuck, joshua…” the words come out in a breathy gasp, ‘cause honestly? you didn’t expect this from him—not the shy guy who asked you to his dorm like it was some casual hangout.
“sorry,” he breathes out, lips brushing against your neck as he speaks. “can’t… fuck, i can’t help it.”
you let out a shaky breath, trying to stay steady, but he’s not giving you the chance. his other hand comes up, gently pushing your back down until you’re bent over the small counter, ass pressed right up against him. you’re not even sure how it escalated this quickly, but fuck, you’re not complaining.
then you feel him, fingers brushing against the hem of your dress, pulling it up to expose more skin, and his hand lands firmly on your ass. not too hard, just enough to make you gasp, your body arching a little further into him. “you okay?” his voice comes out breathy, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s fighting to hold back. and before you can even respond, he’s slipping a hand between your legs, fingers ghosting over your clothed heat, and you swear you hear him let out this needy ass moan, “fuck, you’re already so wet.”
you nod, holding back a whimper, pushing back into him for more. but he doesn’t rush it. his fingers slip under the fabric, pressing right where you need him, just enough to make you moan, and he chuckles—this soft, wicked sound that makes your skin burn.
“such a good girl for me, hm?” he mutters, his breath hot against your ear now as his fingers start rubbing slow, lazy circles over your clit. he’s not just pressing down; he’s moving in these subtle little zig-zags, shaking his fingers side to side, making your legs shake from how fast they are. it’s like he knows exactly how to drive you wild, how to get you off, without giving you too much too soon.
you whimper, your back arching even more as his other hand slides up your back, then gently wraps around your throat. and it’s not hard, not really, but just the feel of his fingers there makes your mind go blank, and you moan, “joshua, please.”
“please, what?” he whispers against your ear, and his voice is so soft, so sweet, but his fingers on your clit are ruthless, moving faster now, leaving you sensitive enough so you can feel every inch of him after. “you gotta tell me what you want sweetheart.”
you let out a desperate moan, pushing back against him, “i need you to fuck me, joshua.”
you can feel him tense up behind you, and he curses under his breath, hands moving quickly now, yanking your panties down. his fingers dig into your hips, pulling you back as he fumbles with his belt, and you’re so on edge. the second you hear the metal clink of his belt hitting the floor, you’re already bracing yourself, because you can feel it—the way he’s lined up behind you, the head of his cock brushing against your entrance, teasing you, driving you insane.
he pushes in slow at first, but you can feel how fucking hard he is, stretching you open inch by inch, and it’s so much, so thick that you have to bite your lip to keep from crying out. and joshua’s not saying anything, but his breathing’s ragged, and he lets out this low, drawn-out moan, like he’s trying to hold it in but can’t help himself.
“f-fuck,” he groans, his hips pushing in deeper until he’s fully inside you. he pauses there for a second, like he’s savoring the way you feel wrapped around him, and you hear this desperate little “ahh!” leave his lips, his head falling forward onto your shoulder.
and you? you’re clenching around him, your body so fucking desperate for more. you try to move, but his grip tightens on your hips, holding you still. “no— fuck, no” he mutters. “lemme just… ngh.. fuck, you feel so good.”
then he starts moving, almost like he’s teasing you, his hips rolling into you in these deep, measured thrusts. but it’s not enough—you need more, and you try to push back against him, but he’s got you locked in place, his hand still around your throat, applying the slightest bit of pressure that has you gasping.
“joshua, please, more. i n-eed more!” you beg, words sounding more like a whimper.
his grip on your throat tightens just a little, his fingers flexing as he starts thrusting harder, rougher, his cock slamming into you with this wet, filthy sound that has you both moaning. his hips snap into yours, relentless now, and he’s fucking you like he wants to be engraved on your mind.the polite, careful joshua you thought you knew is missing, replaced by someone who’s desperate to ruin you.
he leans forward, his lips right against your ear as he groans, “you like this, huh? you like how i fuck you? hm? can you feel how your pussy 's swallowing my cock?”
and you can’t even speak at this point, just a mess of moans and gasps, your hands gripping the counter so hard that your knuckles hurt. all you can do is nod, your body trembling with every hard thrust, your clit throbbing as his hips grind into you.
then his hand leaves your throat and slides down between your legs again, fingers finding your clit, rubbing those same zigzagging from earlier, but this time faster. your legs nearly buckle, a scream leaving your throat and you're sure he's going to have a problem with his dorm neighbours later, and he’s moaning in your ear now, his breath hot against your skin, “you’re so fucking tight, i’m not gonna last long.”
you’re shaking, so fucking close, and you can feel him getting sloppier, his thrusts losing rhythm. his fingers press harder against your clit, now moving in these frantic little circles that make your body explode with pleasure.
“cum for me,” he groans, his voice all breathy and wrecked. “c’mon, baby, i wanna feel you cum around my cock. wet me all over, come on…”
your orgasm hits you before you can even take another breath, your whole body contorting as you cry out, legs tremulous beneath you. you clench around him so tight, and joshua lets out this filthy moan—“oh fuck”—his hips slamming into you one last time before he’s spilling inside you, groaning loud as he rides out his orgasm.
he’s the first to move, pulling out slowly, nearly timidly, and you hear him mutter something under his breath—probably apologizing, because of course he is. you push yourself up from the counter, your legs still shaking, and turn to face him. his cheeks are flushed, his hair a mess, and there’s this sheepish, almost embarrassed look on his face, like he can’t believe what just happened.
he smiles, a little shy but still clearly proud of himself. and then, just like that, he’s back to being the joshua you know—sweet, considerate, polite—offering you a towel and asking if you’re thirsty again, like he didn’t just fuck you into oblivion against the counter.
#seventeen imagines#seventeen reactions#seventeen headcanons#seventeen scenarios#seventeen x reader#seventeen smut#seventeen fluff#seventeen#svt smut#svt imagines#joshua#joshua fluff#gose#joshua smut#seventeen fanfic#hong jisoo smut#hong jisoo#hong jisoo fluff#joshua hong x you#joshua hong fluff#joshua hong x reader#joshua hong#joshua hong smut#joshua x y/n#joshua x you#joshua x reader#joshua hong x yn#hong jisoo x reader#joshua hong angst
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