#i noticed. believe me i noticed immediately. i just didn’t care.
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switch · 1 year ago
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when you really look at it moriarty’s writing was pretty objectively fucked the absolute millisecond he stepped one foot outside of shinjuku but i was just overdosing on too much hopium to care at the time. you take one step to the left you’re in beating a dead horse and jokes that are absolute writing black holes hell, now you take one step to the right you’re in aborted plot arcs and pointless lore-wanking because the the writers got their wires crossed hell.
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blondieeu · 1 month ago
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fine china. megumi f.
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megumi who doesnt even care to tell you to be quiet when his dads home because he hates him just that much.
“toji definitely heard that one..”
“y—our dads he-re?!”
you squealed out in surprise as your hands reached to grab and pull at megumis wrists, but he in no way tried to silence you, instead just fucking you a little rougher.
with your brows furrowed, you reached your arm down to push at his pelvis, he hit it from the side and pushed your arm away. megumi looked down at you through the strands of his currently loose hair.
you couldn’t even believe the audacity out of megumi, to have sex— let alone having it be loud sex with his dad in the house is insane! why didn’t he say his dad was here after you’d been yelling this whole time?!
swiftly after that you brought your fingers up to your lips to try and silence yourself, only just now noticing you were the only one moaning full out.
“why didn’t you tell me gumi!—i was s’ loudddd!”
he kept a straight face and stayed focused at his task at hand, the exact opposite of your immediate panic as you started whispering, even if it was late in the night you still worried about if his dear old dad would wake up and hear the two of you, what a sweet considerate little thing he had.
“fuck him.. s’ not botherin’ me”
you gasped over dramatically as you grabbed at his comforter beneath you, suddenly the music playing in the background didn’t seem to cover your moans, and you’re pretty sure his mom can hear you!
your whole body started to heat up as you felt yourself become flustered, moans and whines slipping from your throat as megumi pushed one of your legs back by your ankle, holding it tightly and out of his way.
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blondieeu xx
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screampied · 5 months ago
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‘GHOSTIN' ?! ★
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ᡴꪫ sum. it's midnight and you're bored. bored and horny. everyone knows ghosts aren't real, or are they? you end up summoning a ghost and he's not leaving anytime soon, in fact, he wants to give you a taste of your own medicine for disrupting his slumber. you get a taste, alright.
wc. 5.0k
warnings. fem! reader, ghost! toji, unprotected, switch toji, praise, dirty talk, oral (m! receiving), manhandling, spit, impact play, brēeding, biting, size kink, mentions of tummy bulge, nipple play.
an. don't summon ghosts unless their name is toji fushiguro idk
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don’t summon ghosts they said—you’ll regret it in the end they said,
but who cares? not you. besides, it’s not like ghosts even exist. you’ve never been one to believe in paranormal activity anyway, although all of that starts to change on a specific night. this night, the clock just struck twelve and you’re bored out of your skull. it was an ordinary sunday night and it was just you and your dead quiet apartment walls. as you’re scrolling on your phone, glancing at your feed a certain link catches your eye. wanna summon a ghost? click here to find out how.
to keep it brief, your curiosity eventually gets the best of you. with a snort, very much not believing the lengthy follow up article that warns you of the possible dangers to come of the spirit, you go into your bathroom, following the steps before your lights flicker. at first nothing happens, oh, see you knew ghosts weren’t real. annoyed a bit that you wasted fifteen minutes of your time—you prepare to leave the restroom when you feel a cold hand on creep on your shoulder.
“tch. the nerve,” a rough voice murmurs behind you. you tense up, craning your neck to indeed see the ghost that was displayed on the picture. yet, he looks more human-like if anything. toji, the name that was said to be his. toji eyes you up and down before a scoff leaves from his reddened slick lips. “why’d you summon me..”
you’re taken aback immediately. with a staggering height of almost six feet, you meet the soulless eyes of a mere attractive spirit. “i— uh,” you sheepishly peer down at your feet, not in a million years thinking it’d actually work. “you’re a real ghost?”
“uh obviously,” he murmurs, mocking your expense. trodding his bare feet across your carpet floor as if he knows the layout, he scratches his chest. “eh, what a mess. you live here?”
ouch, so he was hot and rude. figures,
you take a moment to gawk at the ghost’s attire. nothing really too appealing—just a simple white t-shirt with sweats. it almost could be mistaken as an eerie nightgown if you squint. again, he looks more human than an actual spirit. it was just the paleness of his skin that gave away his non-human features. his clothes weren’t the only thing you were staring at though.
his bulge,
its hard to not notice it, especially with a size like toji’s. you spot the invading print poke through his sweats, the roundness of it, basking in all its dirty glory. you had to restrain yourself from making a fool of yourself — licking your lips and almost allowing your lewd, obscene thoughts to take over. you couldn’t help it though, it was quite literally all in your face. you’re so entrapped in your little phantasm that you don’t even feel the ghost flicking his chilly cold fingers against your forehead.
“girl are you even listening?” he rasps.
“h-huh?” you look up, snapping out of whatever trance had you on such a leash.
toji deadpans, a groan sliding past his lips before he eyes you up and down. his gaze alone makes you nervous. “don’t huh me, i saw what you were looking at,” and he peels up his shirt with a single hand, exposing his curled up washboard abs. god, even as a ghost he was so ripped. your eyes ogle down towards the sable-black boxers he wore, the hem of it peeking from over his pants before he hums, amused. “wanna feel?”
“can i…?” your voice trails off, and it’s so pathetic and soft. you could hardly recognize your own softened tone but you didn’t care.
“knock y’erself out.” he hoarsely shrugs, and you barely give him a chance to finish before your fingers twang against his skin.
immediately, you feel how cold his body was, a shivering temperature that ghosts against your digits as you feel against his body. jade pupils of his burn into you as he watches intently. the hardness of his abs — you feel everywhere, the texture of it was rock hard. his muscles, the way he carried himself, the flexing of his abs. it was all just so attractive. despite how the lower half of his body was freezing, you continued to let your fingers wander on every part of his abdomen.
“you’re cute,” he murmurs, and you don’t realize he’s been staring at you the entire time. toji had to admit, for a human, you were quite easy on the eyes. maybe even his type, if he was a human himself. “are ya always this handsy towards people you first meet or…?”
“not really,” you huff, and your hand trails deeper until it stops near a certain area.
his happy trail,
it was so pretty, jumbles of blackened curly hairs run down near the under part of his v-line. he’s so perfectly sculptured. it was easy to compare his ghostly anatomy to a mere greek god. so perfect, the more your fingers explore down his muscular frame, the colder your fingertips get. “wow, are you sure you’re not a human?”
“wanna find out?”
his words struck right into you like a knife strikes its enemy — you pause, leering up at him with glossy eyes and a slight head tilt. in a coy tone, you rub the back of your neck. “y- yes.”
“c’mere then, girl.”
inching towards him, the ghost then pulls you into a longing kiss. its passionate at first then shifts to sloppy. you moan, feeling him try to pry open your lips with his tongue to allow him access. you do, savoring his freshly minty taste and even his tongue was just as cold. toji tasted like hypothermia—chillingly cold, yet your lips stuck against his like ice. speaking of, his lips stuck against yours like velcro, like glue. your breathing continues to grow heavier by the second before he snakes a hand around your neck, giving it a delicate squeeze. already, you were weak for his touch. toji’s thumb skids against the middle opening of your throat, physically feeling the vibrated sensations pour out from your sweet little esophagus.
a gasp wretches from your throat once you feel the front of his knee go right between your legs. it’s sneaky, the friction you feel from that muscle alone earns a soft noise from you. you whine in his mouth as tongues dance and tangle together in harmony.
where there’s harmony, there’s sync,
he loved the way your tongue curls into his mouth, tasting and savoring his minty flavor. you only wanted more by each dreadfully long second that passes. wobbly arms of yours sling around his neck and the static from his rubbing knee only grows. “f-fuck.” you’d whimper between hot, sultry kisses. suddenly, the air felt thick and heavy. you’re panting, lungs already feeling like they were about to collapse as he gingerly starts to suck on your neck. while he does, you succinctly open your eyes to see him already staring at you. darkened raven eyes, long untrimmed bangs that almost shield his eerie pupils alone, his eyes told a thousand stories.
his eyes told a thousand stories and maybe you wanted to know more about this ghoulish visitor.
after a while, the steamy kiss ends up departing and you gasp for air. “knees, pretty. get down for me.”
with how compliant you were, it was almost amusing to see. you get down on your knees, being face first with his bulge yet again. you just wanted to run your tongue everywhere. so full and well rounded, you already started to feel the saliva trickle into your mouth. mouthwatering. toji’s eyes rove towards the pullover hoodie you wore. with an impish expression, he claws a hand over your head delicately. a free finger of his crooks near your chosen attire.
“this. take it off, wanna see more of your body.” he utters in a low tone.
“for a ghost, you’re pretty pervy.” you tease, hauling the piece of clothing over your head.
“girl please. says the mortal staring at my crotch,” and as your hoodie is suddenly removed, he takes a good peek at your bra. he simpers. “mhm,” he inhales for a second, taking in your frame for a few solid moments. toji’s eyes then glance towards your chest. “bra, take that off too.”
you unclasp the back strap of your bra with one hand and he grunts once he sees your breasts spring free. “fuck, y’er pretty. ‘m gonna ‘hafta take my time with you.”
and he does,
toji’s got you on all fours, cutely struggling to take him fully into your mouth. his ruby-colored tip greets you and you can’t help but skitter your tongue against the frenulum. he groans, raking a hand in your scalp. as he’s standing, he moves a few strands of hair away from your face. “yeah, open that jaw. get it wet, spit on it if you have to, doll.”
“mmf,” a muffled moan comes from you as your knees dig into the ground. his taste was flavorless and still you wanted to savor it. sweet like candy, toji’s scent alone clogs up your nostrils and his darkened pubic hair tickle against the rim of your nose. he’s just so big though, so fucking big . .
as you’re taking him down inch by inch, it’s hard to try not to gag as he continues to gradually shove himself into your throat. toji’s abs clench and tighten as he sees your jaw hang open, giving you a single thrust and you pull away to gasp. already, you’re starting to drool for him. with your mouth left open ajar, it had easy access to the saliva dribble down the sides of your lips and onto your chin.
“heh, ‘s too big for you? that’s my bad.” he purrs.
“shut up,” you grumble, your tongue licking alongside his dick. a throbbing vein of his that runs down his side pulses against your tongue and you hear him hiss. toji’s still got a hand combing into your hair, pulling your head up concisely just so he can see that pretty face one more time. “so f-fuckin’ big.”
“this is just y’er mouth, wait ‘till ya feel me from the inside.”
you roll your eyes at his cockiness, preparing to take him inside of your mouth again. your spit covered lips open up and he coos once he sees that you’re slobbering. you let a few amounts of your sheeny saliva pour onto his shaft, wetting it in the process. “play with y’er tits, use ‘em.”
you grab ahold of your plump mounds, brushing a thumb against your perked nipples before your head starts to bob. as he’s sinking his dick into your tight little throat, he groans.
toji could get used to the warmth of your mouth, your plush lips suffocating all around him — he was addicted, and so were you.
with your head resuming to jolt up and down, bobbing repeatedly from the decent pace, your tongue continues to flick against his leaky tip, relishing in the bitterly sweet pre-cum that resides against the very top. another muffled moan slips past your lips as you’re still playing with your breasts, feeling them bounce against each other in crude tandem.
“such a pretty mouth… ugh,” he tightens his grip against your hair, thrusting his hips into you a bit. you break your hands away from your tits to latch onto his thighs. immensely, your fingers dig into the cottony fabric of his sweatpants. toji starts to pant laboriously. heave after heave, you’ve got him sweating already. peeping down, his dick twitches at the sight of your spit dribbling down the corners of your pretty purses lips.
as it travels — it cascades like a waterfall, landing between the curvature of your chest. “mhm, jus’ like that. good girl. haah, ‘s good.”
as his hands rummage in your hair, it’s still maintaining its strengthening grip—you inhale through your nose as your head bounces in consistency. his fingers were still crispy cold, you’re feeling frosty all the way from the waist down.
not only were you feeling frosty though, you were throbbing..
it was no mistake. the sudden adds of multiplying throbs that pang against your pussy makes you start to whine as a hand of yours reaches between your thighs. your panties protect your slick arousal and a pout contorts against your lips as you’re still having your mouth stuffed full of ghostly cock.
“f-fuuuck, y’er fuckin’ nasty. play with y’erself while ya suck me off, do it.” he groans, it was as if he read right through your mind. toji’s breathing starts to pick up as he’s keeping strict eye contact with you. doe-eyed and all, your lashes suddenly shut close for a few seconds. toji meanly pistons his hips, and you moan as you drag your fingers against your sheathed pussy. peeling your laced panties to the side—you strum two digits against your slick entrance, starting to rut back and forth. toji snickers, ruffling the top of your head. “gonna fill this throat up with so much cum, you want that, sweets?”
abruptly, you pry your mouth away from his fattened dick before breathing in a gasp of fresh air. slyly, you hum, a hand wrapping around his hefty base. “don’t you mean with ectoplasm?”
“y’er mouth’s getting smart,” he sneers, grabbing ahold of your head before making you go back down.
toji started to get addicted to your frisky tongue. the way it’s so sloppy, slurping up every part of his fervor, he only wanted more.
he’s a ghost and well, it’s been a while..
as his dick perfectly tucks inside of your mouth, you take him even further. a clammy hand of yours starts to fondle with his balls and he groans. with his jaw tightening, he starts to feel his thigh pounce. “fuuuuck me,” he heaves lowly, knowing his finish was about to approach rather sooner than later. he was just so thick in your throat, tap-tapping away at your little uvula. toji stares at your pretty slobbering lips, your hands still crammed all up inside of your cunt before he presents a more thorough thrust into your mouth.
a familiar primal heat pools into the very depths of your tummy before you hear toji suck his teeth.
it’s a long, deep and sexy groan.
it bellows throughout the thin walls of your small apartment — his face turns sour and you start to feel a surprised guest get introduced on your tongue.
his cum tastes more sweet which was peculiar. usually it’s tastelessly bitter, bland and purely insipid.
but with him, it was sugary sweet. as he pours such volumes of satiny ropes into your mouth, your hands continue to cling onto his pants. it’s a lot, with the way the ghost’s cock erupts into your mouth it’s like a volcano. spitting out such gooey sums of seed. its warmth has you wanting more, as it fills the very inside of your mouth, your tongue swirls all around the savory uncanny mixture.
toji yokes your head back, taking his heavyset dick out of your mouth and you gawk at how red it was now. from the very top, a smile stretches against your lips knowing you did that. swollen, fat balls of his were all in your face, neglected and just desperate to be played with a bit more.
“shit,” he sighs, taking a moment to breathe. toji looks down at your dumb expression, more smug than anything. a hand of his cups underneath your chin before he bends down, pulling you into a deep kiss. again, you return the favor, glissading your tongue against his. it tickles and tangos together, enjoying each other’s wet company. he grunts, reveling in the sweetened taste of his own cum that’s just residing inside your mouth. no shame, no shame at all. the kiss was much sloppier this time—toji pulls away to lick near the corner of your lips, capturing a few remnants of his own seed that tries to stream down from your mouth and below toward your chin. breaking away, he grabs your neck softly, giving you an intimating stare. “you,” the ghost murmurs, his eyes flickering towards your bed. “i wanna break you.”
“you’ll have to pay for that you kn-”
“don’t make me drag you, human.”
you let off a soft playful ‘oof’ once you’re faintly tossed on your own bed. his strength was out of this world— quite literally though,
you look at toji and he inches himself closer towards you. as he leans in for another warm kiss, his body presses up against yours. he starts to grind against you, the friction leaves a wave of fuzz in your ears that never seems to go away. cold glacial lips squashing against your own as you flick your tongue against his, moaning for more. as he’s claiming your mouth in such a rough way, you start to paw at his pants. you feel a simper tug against his lips as he makes out with you, feeling the weight of the bed collapse and shriek a bit in ponderous discomfort.
“taste so good,” he grouses, withdrawing his lips to nip chaste kisses near your neck. you moan, feeling him prop between your thighs. he then licks all against the hidden crevices of your collarbone. “ever fucked a ghost before?”
“usually i’m more into humans,” you pant, and he gives you a subtle eye roll. if you knew a ghost such as toji would look this good — perhaps you’d summon him a long time ago on that stupid link.
“really, oh,” he plays along, prying your legs open a bit to take a quick peek at what he was about to destroy. with low hooded eyes, toji grunts as he sees your soaked pussy all open and on display for him. a padded thumb of his runs down your puffy slit and your legs twitch slightly as a greeting response. “mhm, such a pretty cunt. tell me though,” he huffs, enveloping all five digits around his cock to give it two single pumps. he prods his leaky cockhead against your entrance, watching you writhe underneath him. “before you summoned me, were ya playin’ with her?”
her as in between your legs, your pussy,
for some reason, toji addressing your cunt as her made you throb profusely. you felt it. an annoying ring screams through your ears as you slump back against your bed, your ankles making an attempt to lock around him. “n- no.”
“y- yea,” he mimicks your little stutter. your mouth drops as you feel yourself starting to gape open for him the moment he starts delve his dick into your pussy. he was so big, you feel the curve of the head and it’s just voluntarily crooking inside of you. toji gives you a side eye with misty peripherals, watching as you make an attempt to hide your face within the crack of your elbow. “nah, girl. don’t hide that pretty face from me. i wanna see you while i stretch you out.”
you moan, feeling his frigid fingers peel your arm away and he’s got a full face view of you.
already, your toes started to center with feelings of pure numbness. his thick cock splits inside of you so good that it’s already got you whimpering out elongated syllables. your voice was a euphony, “oh my g-goddd,” you whimper out, grabbing ahold of his shoulders. toji falls into your chest, still easing his way into your accepting walls. it’s relatively hot inside, smoldering gummy walls of yours entrap him, holding him hostage. he sibilates out a single hiss as you’re still trying to adjust to his massive size. his sack hangs from the base down and you let off a lusty giggle, already cockdrunk. “s-so the rumor’s true that ghosts have big dicks, f-fuck you’re gonna split me open.”
“heh, oh? that’s a fact, not a rumor,” he playfully flicks your forehead. a hand of his then clasps around your thigh. he spreads it apart, sinking into you further. he’s so deep, halfway in that your stomach’s already seizing. it was his tip that made you feel everything at once. the girth he has, he makes sure you feel every inch, every part. toji’s filling every area of your orifice with his spectral shaft. “ugh, clampin’ around me so good,” and he presses a palm against your tummy. “feel me here, yeah?”
and you do, as his hand gingerly brushes against the outer skirts of your stomach, your lips part into an ‘o’ shape of surprise. “y- yesss, fuck. ‘s deep, toji.”
“fuck,” he groans, and you let off a cute astounded, ‘oh’ once you feel him fully plug you all the way in. it’s a popping noise that you’ll never forget. heavy balls of his creates a single thrust and you jolt all the way back. clawing at the backsides of his skin, you whimper out a sweet melodic hum. “pussy’s gonna get me addicted, girl.”
your legs lock and ensnare around toji’s slim waist as he starts up a pace—he’s slow and steady at first. slow and steady wins the race, but with a dick as big as his, you’re already losing. not so much physically, at least not yet.
just a few fathomless thrusts from the ghost and you were whipped, starving for more. hungry even.
perhaps if this was some sort of dream, you didn’t wanna wake up. it all felt to real to just be your imagination anyway,
his hits against you were just so good that it was brutal. toji’s got you laid against your back so he can stare right into your eyes. he’s panting, gawking openly as he feels you bare down on him. your dense walls squeeze around him before he’s starting up a more salacious tempo. you could barely even keep up. you whine, craning your neck to the left a bit — to the right, then to the left for the umpteenth time. your legs were already shuddering, your cunt feels so stuffed of his shaft that you’re already flumped against the mattress. not even before long, it’s stares to bounce and judder from the clumps of weight on top of it. you dig your teeth into toji’s shoulder, whimpering at how he repeatedly thwacks his tip against that forbidden g-spot. “t- toji, tojiiii,” you hiccup, cross eyed and doe-eyed.
he could listen to your voice all day, a tune he could forever hum.
for the nth time within seven seconds, your pussy squelches from the parching sensations of pleasure. you’re so wet, sopping so much that you put faucets to shame. toji feels your slick trying to snail its way all the way down to his base. “that’s it, mhm. fuck against me, girl. c’mon, yeah,” he shushes up against your ear, licking against your lobe. you shiver, his voice all deep with a slight hint of rasp in it. a raw moan grabs itself from the back of your throat and you feel a hand of his snakes its way towards your jouncing tits. toji groans—leaning in to suck against your neglected nipples, feverish breath ghosting against your sweet skin before you whine. “god, you taste so mmf, good.”
as he’s still jerking his sharp hips into you at full might, his tongue swirls around your pretty nubs, savoring it. another ear splitting ‘pop’ leaves his lips each time he breaks away from your mounds. “could eat you up.”
“f- fuck, ‘s good, toji. harder p-pleaseee,” you mewl out, his weight that hovers over you sends you shivers all throughout your spine and body. strained deep inhales escape from your heavy lungs as you feel his calloused fingertips dance against your skin. a big hand of toji’s caresses alongside the curvilinear juncture of your body, your pretty physique—taking in your humanly beauty. oh, a sight for sore eyes.
toji was almost positive he was addicted to you, he’s fucking you so deep that he makes it so easy for you to jerk away from from your attentions. he even has a scent to him. despite his phantom being, his aurora alone was just enticing. its strong. the musk infiltrates the insides of your flared up nostrils and you whine again. your whine was more of a choke, clinging onto his back, scraping your nails down his tense back muscles.
“f-fuck, squeezin’ around me so good, baby,” he groans, leafy eyes staring into yours the entire time. toji leans in to nip kisses everywhere on your face, near your neck, and right back to your chest again. your body, he could get used to this,
to you.
maybe humans weren’t all that bad,
toji’s hips were rude, the perfect way to describe it. it really knew no bounds, he knew no bounds.
your glossy eyes glance up at him and he’s got nothing but a sly smirk plastered on his face. you study his features as he’s plowing you deeply into your own bed—the bed creeks and creeks that it sounds like it’s hanging onto his final hinges.
as you’re gazing into his features, the first thing you notice was that scar.
he’s got a slanting, slashing scar that runs down near the right side of his mouth. surprisingly, it makes him ten times more attractive than he already was. as you’re trapped in your own thoughts again, he moves his face closer to you to kiss an alluring slope down the side of your neck. just a few minutes with you and he was already memorizing each particular spot of yours.
an adorable lewd expression marinated against your features as your pussy continues to slosh and squeak against his thickened cock. he’s so big inside of you, your tummy ends up extending a bit from his angles he’s hitting. toji never misses a spot though, he’s a precise man, a precise ghost,
you’re left stupid with your tongue visibly lolling out. he can’t help but chuckle.
“look at that tongue, mhm,” and he takes the opportunity to suck against the limp muscle. you whine, hugging his beefy body tightly as you suddenly feel agitated with the pure feeling of your arousal. pretty soon, you were getting close.
he was too—he could feel it, warm bodies against each other, he was gonna lose it.
toji’s mouth goes against your neck, exposing his pearly whites and he bares a single fang. he buries it into the crook of your neck again, adam’s apple bobbing out from each guttural moan that detaches from him.
“f-fuck fuck,” you sob out, your ankles securely locking around his hips as he’s making more haste. you let off a tiny whine, his teeth gently nibbling against your flavorsome flesh. you tasted so sweet, he craved you. crimson lips of his twitch before he pulls you into another kiss. this time, it’s more passionate. as his tongue explores the very depths of your mouth, his tempo was now relentless. flimsy arms of yours continue to flop due to your weak grip against his wide shoulders before he gently bites your bottom lip. “inside,” you huff, licking the edge of his scar. a faint purr comes from toji once you do that and it’s a bit cute. “wanna feel you from the inside.”
“careful,” he groans into your neck, pressing a palm onto your tummy again. “you might get possessed after this.”
you pause, giving him a furrowed eyebrow look and he only sneers at you.
“joking, ghost cum ‘s harmless, baby. i think..”
he was nothing but a mere tease, you roll your eyes before you babble over and over in his ear for him to shoot inside of you. with ease, he’s emitting out all kinds of moans from you. you’re so loud, he’s got sensitive ears so it makes his ears twitch. your voice though, he’s so drawn in to hearing every little whine that departures from the backs of your precious throat.
welts of pleasure surge through your body as your chest recoils against his. gnawing down on your lip, you spasm once it finally approaches.
it’s a wave, pouring into you all at once. the crash was unexpected. expect the unexpected, they say.
your legs felt zealously numb, your eyes dramatically roll back as your high finally comes. it’s so much, you could still feel your cunt gaping. a whiney grunt cuts out of your throat before a squeal shortly follows. waves and waves of pleasure make way for you, pupils twinkling with stars, you were experiencing pure ecstasy.
shortly afterward, toji’s comes and when he cums, it’s a lot. he spurts into you in volumes, it dumps into you so good that you’re left twitching. suddenly, you grow quiet from the way his palm swats over your mouth. “listen to it with me. saved so much for you.”
and his words were slow, his breaths were slow, everything was ploddingly slow.
you don’t think you’ve ever felt more full in your life, your cunt constricts one more time around his length before you let off a dry whimper. “mmm,” you inhale a candied breath, he’s still buried balls deep. his hilt thrashes against your sodden entrance gently before he pulls out, staring at the mess. such goopy amounts of cum pour out of your slit, he brings two fingers to peel back against your sloppy folds. you’re covering him with your slick, viridescent eyes of his peer down to see the head of his cock still oozing out with gluey white masses of seed. “toji..”
“atta girl,” he whispers, hearing the little falter in your voice.
so cute,
he’s filled you up to the brim and that was only just the beginning. “i know. i kn—” and he pauses, being cut off as he feels you bedaub his sensitive tip against your greedy cunt. you move it against your opening slit, watching as it tries to swallow it hole before you pull it back outs you’re still oozing and his eyes flicker to white for a second. “fuuuck, ‘m still sensitive girl.” and he’s the one to let off a whine this time. toji’s weight still hangs against you before you drag him into a kiss while hearing his deprived whimpers feed into your mouth. jet black strands of his tickle against your forehead as he grinds his hips against you, already weak for you. the epitome of pussy drunk. whatever spell you had, he wanted to know what it was. perhaps your pussy was a curse he wasn’t aware of.
your taste was just too tasteful. with the way you linger on his tongue like a treat, he only wanted more. toji pulls away after a while, shaft still halfway into you—idle, not moving a single inch. he’s buried but remains still. a shimmery concoction of spit leaves each lips and toji pants as your lips stray away from his. toji’s lungs feel like they were on fire, each breath he takes feels like it’s being snatched away.
“you,” he exhales, a thumb curling underneath your chin. with a needy look, the ghost’s confidence throws itself out the window and his bottom lip quavers a bit. he pants, making you switch positions and he pats his lap, pouting. “you, on top of me. i- i want more of you. please.”
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ffsg0jo · 6 months ago
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same universe as this post. you don't have to read it beforehand, but it helps 🤭
even when yuuji's much older and has his own room, he's still woken up by sukuna's old man noises™ in the bathroom at 7am.
the poor, almost adult just wants to sleep in for a little longer and rest his weary bones, but sukuna's snorting and coughing and hacking his life out in the bathroom down the hall.
yuuji doesn't know how you do it, to be honest. between the snoring and old man-isms, the way he seems to have a permanent frown on his face. you've been by his uncle's side for as long as he can remember, acting as a mother figure to yuuji. always patient and caring, standing your ground against sukuna who can be bull-headed sometimes (a lot of times), and ultimately doing everything you can for the little family they've created.
he truthfully doesn't remember life without you, and quite frankly, he doesn't want to remember. ever since he was a toddler, you were his sun, yuuji your sunflower, absorbing your warmth and love.
you stayed by their side throughout everything; the ups, the downs, the twisty turvies. never once have you tried to replace his biological mum or even referred to yourself as his mother. but yuuji sees the way your eyes shine with pride and joy when looking at him.
he can see it in your face now as he walks into the kitchen, yawning. you notice him immediately while plating up everyone’s breakfast and attempting to escape sukuna's embrace, who's clinging onto your back like the leech he is.
“dammit woman, just let me hold you,” he growls, tightening him arms around you and kissing up and down your neck.
“sukuna,” you gasp, “not in front of yuuji!”
the giant of a man slowly lifts his face up from your neck and turns to side-eye yuuji. he lets go of you and sighs, grabbing the plates you’ve prepared, setting them on the table.  
“mornin’ brat, sleep well?” he asks yuuji.
“not with all your snoring, he didn’t.” yuuji laughs at your response.
“i don’t snore woman.”
you and yuuji share a look, completely in disbelief at the man’s denial. he’s woken himself up with how loud he is, many, many times. neither of you can believe he has the audacity to stand there and lie with a straight face.
you both scoff and yuuji sits down at the table, in no mood to deal with his uncle’s nonsense this early in the morning. you move towards yuuji planting a soft kiss on his cheek and ruffling his hair.
“sorry he woke you up yuuji,” you say warmly, kissing him once more.
“if anything i should be apologising to you, you’re the one that has to put up with him for the rest of your life,” the boy responds, looking up at you solemnly, genuinely sorry for you.
“i can hear ya both,” sukuna rumbles, mouth full of egg. “anyways, finish eating and make sure you’re ready by 10”
yuuji turns to you in confusion, and sees your face light up, practically buzzing with excitement.  
“where we going?” yuuji asks
you wrap your arms around him tighter and press his cheek onto yours. he basks in your affection and leans impossibly closer towards you.
“it’s a surprise,” you giggle.
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yuuji’s face twists in confusion as he stares at the shiny, brand-new motorbike in front of him. it was beautiful, and he’s always dreamed of having that exact model, but he was confused at to why they were there at the dealership. is this some cruel joke? he looks at you though, and shakes the thought out of his head. you would never do that to him.
“you like it, yuuji,” you ask, a broad smile on your face, eyes shining with glee.
 “s’ beautiful,” he nods in response.
his uncle pats his back and lifts his hand up, his own tattooed hand pressing something sharp and chunky into his palm. yuuji looks down and sees… keys?
“she’s all yours,” sukuna smirks, revelling in the disbelief on yuuji’s face. he seems to be frozen for a good 20 seconds, just processing what he’s heard. you and your husband share a smile. it suddenly hits yuuji that the motobike is all his, and his face splits into the widest grin.
“i love you both so much” he whispers, tearing up and throwing himself into sukuna’s arms and an arm around your neck.
the man steadies himself as you both tumble into him, heart suddenly panging at how big his nephew has gotten. it seemed like only yesterday when he was barely up to his shins, and now he was eye level?
sukuna hides his teary smile in yuuji’s hair, tightening one arm around you and softly rubbing his nephews back with his hand.
“yeah yeah, love ya too brat.”
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© ffsg0jo 2024 — do not plagiarise, repost, modify, or translate any of my work, in any way shape or form; i will piss in your cereal if you do. all work belongs to me and me only.
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mywritersmind · 1 month ago
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TOUCH ME - LN4
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summary : y/n shows her affection through hugs, kisses, and just plain touching. lando is sad when he realizes that she does this with everyone but him.
listen up : no warnings!! cuteness!! singapore win!
word count : 747
⋆。‧˚⋆
It had been bothering him for months. Lando noticed when he and Y/n started becoming friends. After a long period of not liking each other, the two finally agreed to put their differences aside because of all their mutual friends.
Their mutual friends started becoming the issue for Lando.
She touches everyone. Not in a weird way, she just shows affection through touch… Through touching anyone but him.
Lando watches her in his drivers room, she’s drawing on the small whiteboard; a tiny lando and a tiny y/n in the corner.
“Why do you touch everyone?” He asks out of nowhere, she turns back slightly, giving him a look before turning back to the board.
“My love language is touch… I guess? At least that’s what people tell me.” She shrugs, coming to the end of the drawing.
“But you don’t touch me.” This makes her pause for a moment before finishing off the drawing and turning back around to face the man.
He's sitting on his drivers bed, race suit unzipped half way and water bottle in hand.
“You want me to touch you?” she raises a brow, teasing him a bit.
He looks down at his water, fiddling with the straw, “I just mean- we’re friends, right? You seem to kiss and hug everyone except for me.”
This makes her more uncomfortable, she slips her hands in her pockets and shrugs, “I don’t mean to not. I guess it’s just different with you.”
“How am I different from Oscar or Charles?” He looks up at her again, his eyes so bright, “They both have girlfriends and you don’t seem bothered.”
Y/n laughs, not thinking before speaking, “Yeah because I’m not into them like that.”
Lando’s eyes widen a bit, “But- you’re into me… like that?” Y/n decides there is two options,
1. Confess her feelings for Lando, ruining all the progress they’ve made to have a good and comfortable friendship while simultaneously risking rejection from someone she really cares about.
2. Lie.
Two seems safer.
“Of course not.” she shakes her head.
Lando doesn’t believe her, or he just doesn’t want to believe her, “So why don’t you touch me? Even after I won in Zandvoort you didn’t hug me.” she hadn't realized how much this had hurt him. She was simply thinking about the hundreds of cameras facing them and how she was already blushing.
Someone knocks on the door then, calling out, “Lando, Warm up starting now.” He swallows, looking up at Y/n.
“I’ll go.” She says quietly, wondering how everything so quickly went south, “Good Luck, Lan.”
⋆。‧˚⋆
Y/n watched the race with Max, on the edge of her seat and sweating. The moment Lando crossed the finish line, a grin was permanently planted onto her face.
After every interview, the podium, a shower, and change of clothes, he walked out to the track where Y/n sat.
She jumped up and hugged him.
“You’re so fucking amazing.” Lando’s heart skipped a beat.
“Enjoy the race?” He smiles as she pulls away, her hands joining and clapping.
“Duh! Everyone else was all boring and whatever but you did so well! Twenty seconds ahead- shit!” even though he was in the race and just had a thirty minute meeting about it, he could listen to her talk about it for hours. “And Lan, about before- I really didn’t mean to hurt you it’s just different and I don’t know why but I swear it’s not to be mean! You’re my friend and-”
“Just friend?” Lando stops her immediately.
She looks up at him, “Well… I always thought-”
“I fancy you. I have for a while.” He just spits it out, his hands on her elbows as she stares blankly at him.
She blinks, “You’re not taking the piss are you because I swear!” He kisses her then.
She’s laughing against him as he pulls her closer, touching her softly and savoring it.
“I like you too.” She blushes. “And fuck you for not telling me sooner!”
He scoffs, “You could have as well! Plus you’re so damn mysterious I couldn’t tell if I should be flattered at your yelling or scared.”
She laughs, kissing his cheek before resting her head on his chest.
He puts his arms around her, his heart beating rapidly, “If you touch your friends like that then i’m damn excited to see how you treat your boyfriend.”
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taeyongdoyoung · 2 months ago
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hide and seek
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summary: your best friend chan finds you've been fantasizing about him and decides to turn those ideas into reality... pairing: chan x reader genre: smut, best friends to ??? warnings: *cracks knuckles* cnc/primal play, wolf/bunny roleplay, mention of safewords, traffic lights system (yellow used), hide and seek, mentions of pee, chasing scenario, blowjob mouthfucking, hair-grabbing, degradation, leg cramping, knees hurting, kinda realistic, unprotected sex, missionary but he holds reader down, pet names, daddy kink (like once), breeding kink, creampie, aftercare, discussion of future scenario 👀 author's note: this will be the first part in a series, i haven't decided yet how many parts, maybe three? stay tuned if you're interested 🤍 part two & part three word count: 2.5k
Chan simply asks you if he can use your laptop while you’re having a shower since his battery died and he really needs to check something work-related real quick. After doing so, he can’t help but notice the recently opened pages. He doesn’t mean to pry, really. But it’s right there. And a quick look into his best friend’s mind couldn’t hurt…could it?
He is immediately captivated by this story you’ve apparently written and keep hidden in the drafts of your blog. It’s so…sexy and unlike anything you’ve ever talked to him about.
“Dumb little bunny, thinking you can get away from me,” the big bad wolf growls in the bunny’s ear.
The bunny whimpers helplessly, trying to escape the wolf’s strong grasp but to no avail.
The wolf takes the bunny from behind mercilessly, biting her neck and using her to please his needs...
What comes at the end of the story is what shocks him the most.
“Chris, please…”
Huh? Which Chris? Chris Evans? Or maybe Hemsworth? As far as he remembers, you have always been more of a Sebastian Stan and Tom Hiddleston kinda girl but…people change, he supposes.
Until it hit him. His name is also Chris! And people do compare him to a wolf…But no, it couldn’t be…There is no way his best friend is writing stories fantasizing about him.
Unless…
He can’t imagine going on with his life without knowing the answer. So, Chan waits impatiently until you are done with your shower.
“Everything good with your work thing?” you ask him calmly once you return to your room.
“Yeah, all is good. But I found something way more interesting on your laptop,” Chan blurts out meaningfully.
The expression on your face is enough of an answer. You look completely mortified, like a true bunny that is waiting to be devoured.
“I forgot to clear my history, didn’t I?” you murmur even though you already know what Chan has seen.
“That story wasn’t about Chris Evans, was it?” Chan wants to know though he suspects what the truth is.
You immediately drop to your knees in front of him, which takes him by surprise. Gripping his hand tightly, you look so cute and pitiful. He wants to ruin you. Wait, when did those feelings show up?
“I know it was wrong, Channie, believe me. But I just couldn’t help myself, okay? Nothing else helps me get off but this fantasy. I promise I won’t do it again, please don’t end our friendship! You mean the world to me, I’m so so sorry!”
“End our friendship?” he is completely stunned by your train of thought. “Why would I? I mean, you never meant for me to see it, so I think it’s okay to have certain…fantasies. But now that I did see it, I can’t stop thinking about it.”
“We don’t have to talk about it, if it makes you uncomfortable,” you suggest.
“You’re right, we don’t have to talk about it. But how about I make those scenarios come to life?”
“Huh? You want to what now?” you can’t believe what you’re hearing.
“It can’t be satisfying, dealing with all these frustrations by yourself.”
“It really isn’t…” you confess.
“Then, let me take care of you. That’s what friends are for, right?” Chan chuckles.
“Let me get this straight, you wanna re-enact my freaky fantasies while still staying friends?”
“Um, sure, why not?”
You would be a fool to agree. This could mess up everything. But you would be an even bigger fool to reject his tempting offer.
“I’m in.”
“Great! Then, should we discuss boundaries and safewords and stuff?”
“No boundaries, no safewords, you can do whatever you like to me, I don’t care.”
“This isn’t right. What if I want to use a safeword?”
Oh. That thought never crossed your mind but perhaps it should have.
“How about this…if I want a scene to end, I’ll say red. I know you said you don’t need one, but just in case, feel free to use it. If we want to just pause for a bit, then yellow. Green is good to go. Am I clear?”
“Yes, sir. I mean, Chan. I mean, uhhh…do you want me call you something specific?”
“Whatever you like, babygirl,” he reassures you and pats your cheek. “Do you want to give this a try rightaway? Unless you’ve got other plans…”
“No way, let’s do this!” you practically jump at the opportunity.
“Alright. I’ll give you one minute to hide anywhere in this house. After that, I can do whatever I like to you.”
His words make you so thrilled that your heart threatens to escape from your chest because it’s beating louder than ever.
“If you find me,” you tease.
“Oh, I will,” Chan swears. “Now, run.”
You sprint out of your room and down the stairs, as he starts the countdown.
“Sixty…fifty-nine…”
Where should you hide? The living room doesn’t have any good hiding spots and neither does the kitchen. Under the table is too obvious. Your room would have been a good option but Chan is currently there, so it’s out of the question. The bathroom is right next to it, so once again, not a great idea. Then, it hits you. The basement! You don’t remember ever showing it to Chan so it will take him more time to think of it. You go through the door and run down another set of stairs leading to the basement. You see the perfect spot. A vintage wooden chest that just happens to be empty and is big enough to fit you if you squeeze in.
Okay, maybe not comfortable but you can survive in there for a couple of minutes. Once you’ve tucked yourself inside and closed the lid, you are suddenly hoping that Chan finds you quickly. Whatever he does to you can’t be worse than this tiny space. You didn’t know you had claustrophobia but in this very moment, you do. You can’t hear him from down here so you imagine he is looking through the other rooms first. After what feels like eternity, you finally hear steps. You are grateful that you recently peed before getting in the shower because the current situation would have undoubtedly made you wet your pants. As the steps approach, you begin to worry. What if it isn’t Chan? What if you’d forgotten to lock the door and now a complete stranger comes in to take advantage of you? No, these thoughts are irrational and make you want to use the bathroom. Ugh.
“I’ll give you ten seconds to come out and I’ll go easy on you.”
Chan’s voice both comforts you and freaks you out even more. You’re not coming out, alright. This spot was great! He can do whatever he wants to you.
“Three…two…one,” Chan finishes counting and opens the chest’s lid.
You look up at him, eyes blinking to adjust to the light. He pulls you out of it roughly.
“Last chance. Run.”
But then, you realize you were squeezed into that tiny space for so long that your leg had cramped up. You can’t possibly run right now.
“Um, sorry but yellow,” you feel like an idiot. You had said you don’t need a safeword and yet…
“What’s wrong?” Chan’s threatening gaze immediately softens and he rubs your elbow gently.
“I didn’t think I’d get a leg cramp in this freaking box,” you admit, ashamed of yourself as you shake your legs in an attempt to relax muscles.
“Oh, sweetheart,” Chan coos at you and helps you massage your leg. “Wanna call it a day?”
“Hell nah. Just, no more running, please.”
“Sure, that’s fine by me.”
“Sorry for ruining the mood.”
Chan shakes his head.
“You could never.”
“Okay, I think I’m good now,” you assure him.
“Scene?”
“Scene.”
“Did you really think you can escape me? Dumb little bunny…” Chan tsks at you and you feel your knees giving out. You need him so bad it’s not even funny anymore.
“Please, don’t hurt me, Mr. Wolf,” you plead with him even though every cell in your being would be glad to be on the receiving end of his anger.
“Oh, but where’s the fun in that? You should’ve locked your door to keep me out.”
If you tell him that you want him inside would it be too out of character for a scared bunny?
“I’ll do anything,” you promise crying. “I won’t tell a soul.”
“You’ll do anything regardless,” Chan smirks devilishly and grabs your hair harshly, pushing you to your knees. With his free hand, he unbuttons and unzips his jeans, wasting no time in pulling his cock out of his confines and stuffing your mouth full.
Fuck, your knees already hurt, probably because of that stupid chest but you choose to ignore the discomfort for now because this feeling of being dominated like that is too good to let go of.
“That’s it, take it like the useless cumslut you are,” Chan speaks degradingly but you’ve never been wetter before.
You wish you could say you are doing your best to give him a blowjob but the truth is you are not doing much, his hips thrusting forward aggressively, his hands gripping your hair. Your mouth is nothing but a cumdump for him. Your eyes are watering, vision is blurred. Your throat hurts too but it is nothing compared to the burning feeling in your knee. It is in that moment you realize that you didn’t discuss a signal for a situation where you can’t speak. You rack your brain for an alternative and remember that some subs opt for pinching their dom’s skin in an attempt to communicate discomfort. You really don’t want this to end but…
As you are overthinking this, you realize Chan’s already released his seed inside of your mouth and you are left with no choice but to swallow it up like the greedy cumwhore you are. Only for him, though.
His cock softens in his mouth but he doesn’t immediately pull out and only then, do you remember what you’ve been about to do.
You pinch his thigh lightly, looking up with moist, pleading eyes.
“What is it, darling?” Chan needs to know, taking a step back.
“Help me stand, please,” your voice is hoarse.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks as he grips your hands and leads you to sit for a while on the stupid chest responsible for your current pain. Okay, maybe, you brought this upon yourself but whatever.
“No, you were perfect, it’s just that my knees hurt. Fucking dumb wooden thing,” you grunt in frustration, punching it with your tiny fist.
Chan chuckles and strokes your hair comfortingly in complete contrast to how he was pulling it mere seconds ago. Then, he pulls you into his arms for a sweet hug.
“Sorry…I’m killing the mood again, aren’t I?” you pout.
“Not at all. Remember you’re in charge of whatever happens between us. You wanna pause, we pause. You wanna stop, we stop. I would hate myself if this doesn’t feel as good for you as it does for me.
“You feel good?”
“Are you kidding? Do you think I’d offer just anyone to fulfil their fantasies hidden in their drafts?” Chan laughs fondly.
“I’m glad you think so,” you smile at him gratefully. “I’m better now so if you’re still on board, we can continue.”
“I’m on board but let me come up with a new plan. I was thinking of fucking you doggy style but now that’s out of the question with your knee situation.”
Hearing him speak out loud what he was planning to do to you sends shivers down your spine. Damn it, maybe you should have just hidden under the table.
“How do you feel about missionary?” Chan inquires.
“Wouldn’t it be too intimate for the kind of scenario we’re doing?” you are doubtful.
“Not if I hold you down,” Chan murmurs smugly.
“Oh. Well, then…like I said, you can do whatever you like.”
“Action?”
“Action,” you confirm.
Chan wastes no time in pulling you up from your sitting position and pushing you down on the cold floor. He’s holding your wrists with one hand and undressing you with the other. Scratch that. He’s tearing your dress apart. It was never one of your faves.
“W-what are you d-doing?” you mewl at him.
“Shut the fuck up,” Chan commands.
He doesn’t bother with stretching you out because he sees you’re already soaking wet for him. Instead, he forces his thick cock inside of your tiny pussy.
Only this time, your screams are real and you’re not at all pretending.
“T-too b-big, it h-hurts,” you cry out.
“You can take it, bunny,” Chan says confidently.
You know that you can put an end to this with one simple word but damn, does it feel incredible to be stuffed full by your best friend’s large manhood.
“Shh,” he whispers in your ear. “This’ll feel so much better if you relax f’me.”
You’re trying, really. But it’s too much you feel like he’ll split you in half. Okay, maybe not a bad way to go but still.
“D-daddy, it h-hurts so m-much,” you slur mindlessly.
Wait, what did you just say?
“Daddy, huh? Easy, babybun, your wolf dad’s gonna take good care of you, I promise,” Chan’s words send you into overdrive and you come around his cock, your thighs are shaking and you’re arching your back. You can’t think anymore, you just need to be with him stuck in this moment forever. Soon enough, he releases his cum inside of your pussy.
You want to beg him to stay there for a while but you are too weak to speak.
Instead, Chan uses his fingers to push back the cum inside of your tiny pussy.
“Gotta make it stick. Will my bunny have my wolf puppies, huh?”
Oh? So, he’s that kind of guy. Well, you can’t say you mind...Besides, you’ve talked about this before and you’re on the pill so whatever he says is just for the sake of the scenario. Right?
“Was this okay?” Chan intends to find out and judging by his soft tone that is just begging to be praised you can tell that the scene is over.
“You did amazing, Chris,” you sigh wistfully and kiss his cheek.
“Better than your fantasies?”
“You have no idea.”
“So…when can we do something like this again?”
“Gee, let me have some water, at least,” you joke but your best friend (?) takes it literally and scoops you up in his arms, heading towards the stairs.
“Wait, where are we going?”
“To get you water, of course. And have a bath. And then to bed.”
Fuck. Maybe staying friends will be more complicated than you initially thought.
Once you’ve both been hydrated, washed up and dried out, you are cuddled in your bed, sharing snacks.
“Do you want to try something more extreme next week?” Chan asks casually. As if what you just did wasn’t already pretty intense.
“Um, sure? What exactly did you have in mind?”
“Kind of an outside setting. It will take some planning to make sure there aren’t other people but…it just came to mind while we were in the basement.”
“Tell me more about it,” you blink curioisly and put your hand on top of his.”
“So…how do you feel about being chased in a forest?”
To be continued…
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neos127 · 3 months ago
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enhypen x fem!reader | brought the heat back
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genre. toxic enha! established relationship + hcs cw. the boys are pretty toxic & manipulative notes. obv this isn’t how i believe they act irl! i was just inspired by bthb lyrics
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heeseung . . . ‘why is he looking at you like that’, heeseung thought as the two of you were sitting in a cafe. to say he was a jealous person was an understatement— heeseung was very possessive. you were his and his only, why couldn’t people understand that.
“hee, calm down.” you mumbled, noticing the way he gripped the small coffee cup, the drink spilling onto his hand. heeseung sighed, letting you clean him up. as soon as you discarded the coffee covered wet wipe, heeseung immediately pulled you to his side, making you sit against him in the booth.
“heeseung…” you warned the boy, feeling his lips trace your neck. the man who had been looking at you prior looked away in embarrassment. you never really favored pda, but your possessive boyfriend certainly did.
“tell me that you’re mine. mine only.” he muttered in between kisses, causing you to blush furiously. you let out a nervous giggle before turning your head to meet heeseung’s eyes.
“i’m yours, always.”
jay . . . you were positive that jay’s arms hadn’t left your waist since you arrived at the party. whenever you two stood in a group, jay would stand behind you with his arms wrapped around your waist and his chin on your shoulder/head. any time a guy even glance at you, his grip would tighten. you had to stop jay from getting into a fight when a guy had approached you, trying to get you into one of the spare rooms.
jay had thrown his beer into the guy’s face, about to swing at his face before you pulled him away.
“jay…i was okay. i can handle myself.” you sighed as the two of you sat on the front lawn, waiting for his best friend to pick you both up.
“i know but, you’re my girl. they don’t even deserve to have the pleasure of looking at you.” jay muttered, his jaw clenching. you let out a curt laugh before reaching over and messing with his hair.
“and i wouldn’t want it any other way.” you replied, leaning over to kiss him.
jake . . . your boyfriend was acting like a child, and you weren’t too pleased about it.
“get off the phone.” he murmured against your ear before continuing his assault on your neck. you were positive that jake had left a couple hickeys on your skin already. he had been sucking on your neck and running his tongue over the marks constantly since you started your project. you were working on it with a male classmate and jake didn’t like that.
jake’s kisses only increased the more you ignored him, his hands slowly sliding under your shirt and resting under your bra. you let out a soft moan, freezing when you realized that you were still on call.
“y/n, you okay?” your project partner, heeseung spoke up. before you could even get a word in, jake spoke up for you.
“she’s busy.” jake sneered before pressing the red ‘end call’ button on your phone. you turned to face the man, about to sold him but jake didn’t care. he interrupted you with a kiss, already lifting you out of your seat and towards your bed.
“it’s my turn to have your attention.”
sunghoon . . . you had never seen sunghoon so angry before, it was honestly worrying. you knew that your boyfriend was the jealous type, and his emotions were only heightened whenever he had a game. a member on the opposing team made a score, winking and making some crude remarks towards you. sunghoon already hated him, especially since he always seemed to hit on you.
your boyfriend was already pissed off so he absolutely lost it, throwing his helmet on the ice and roughly spitting out his mouth guard before slamming the guy against the wall of the rink. you didn’t pick up much of what sunghoon said, only a couple of curses here and there. the guy pushed sunghoon off which resulted in him swinging at his face. you gasped and stood up, watching as sunghoon was pulled away by his teammates.
he ended up receiving a red card and was chewed out by his coach before he stomped to the locker room. you followed after him, wanting to comfort your boyfriend who was obviously fired up.
“sunghoon! what the hell was that?” you called after him, nearly getting hit by the door on your way into the locker room.
“that dickwad is a piece of shit. i can’t stand him. especially when he thinks that he can just look at you without me wanting to pull his teeth out.” sunghoon snarled, his voice still raised as he paced around.
you frowned, putting a hand on his chest to try to calm him down. he stopped, taking a deep breath before placing his hand over yours and leaning against the lockers.
“you’re mine only. i can’t let other guys talk about you like that.” sunghoon said, leaning over to rest his forehead against yours. you smiled, finding his possessiveness to be a bit attractive. even though it got him benched for the next few games.
“don’t worry, i don’t accept attention from any other guy but you.” you whispered, running your thumb on his bottom lip.
sunoo . . . “who was that guy you spoke to earlier.” sunoo asked, cornering you in the kitchen one night. you jumped a bit at his presence, not expecting your boyfriend to still be up as you grabbed a glass of water.
“just a friend.” you replied, shrugging as if it was no big deal. to sunoo it was a big deal. he couldn’t stand the attention you would get from men, it made him extremely envious when you decided to be nice and engage.
“why were you smiling at him like that?” sunoo asked, his tone extremely calm but his gaze was hard and set on you.
“sunoo, he didn’t mean anything to me.” you replied, placing the glass down and walking over to sunoo. you rested your hands on either side of his face, giving him a reassuring smile. you knew how jealous your boyfriend could get, especially when it came to guys giving you their attention. if a guy happened to look at you for a second too long, sunoo felt like snapping their neck.
“he better not.” he mumbled before pulling you into a heated kiss.
jungwon . . . was it unfair of jungwon to rip you away from a lunch with your friend? possibly. but the friend was a guy, a guy who wasn’t your loving boyfriend. he couldn’t have your attention stolen by sim jaeyun when he was simply sitting at home bored out of his mind. so, jungwon called you up, pretending to sound sick so you would come to his apartment. he knew that he was your weakness, you would do anything for your precious jungwon.
so you excused yourself from lunch and raced to jungwon’s apartment, worried about your boyfriend. jungwon laid on his bed, putting a frown on his face as he explained that his ‘stomach ache’ was debilitating. you cooed at the boy, softly running your hands through his hair.
jungwon sighed, fighting back a small smirk. he finally had you to himself again…he was in heaven.
riki . . . the boy was fidgeting, hands clenching and unclenching at his sides as he watched a store clerk clearly flirt with you. he had been watching the guy ever since you two walked into the store, the punk had been waiting for a chance to get you alone.
“i was wondering if i could get your number?” the guy asked, pulling his phone out. you froze, feeling awkward already. you were about to tell him that you had a boyfriend before you felt a presence behind you.
riki towered over you, his height seeming to intimidate the store clerk in front of you. he wrapped his arms around your waist possessively, resting his head on top of yours.
“she’s taken.” riki said curtly, his eyes darkening as he stared down the guy in front of you. he nodded, quickly walking away without another word.
“riki…” you giggled, turning around to face your boyfriend who looked extremely pissed. riki had always been a jealous boyfriend and it was amusing to see how he subtly staked his claim over you.
“these idiots don’t deserve an ounce of your attention.” he grumbled, keeping an arm around your waist as he pulled you out of the store. you let out a laugh, shaking your head.
“riki, where are we going? i want my snacks.”
“a different store without that asshole.”
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milkloafy · 5 months ago
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SILENT BUT RECKLESS — TODOROKI SHOUTO
⋆。˚ ❀ summary: in which pro hero!shouto saves you from getting run over by a car and finds himself immediately enraptured by you.  ⋆。˚ ❀ contents: pro hero!shouto, fluff, gn!reader ⋆。˚ ❀ wc: 1.3k ⋆。˚ ❀ a/n: aka…pro hero!shouto is a pr nightmare and no u cannot convince me otherwise ! ahdjskc but frl this is so unserious but i miss the og anime loml so here we are :>
Shouto wasn’t exactly known for his talkative nature. 
It was quite the opposite, in fact, with news agencies and magazines often referring to him as the quiet one of the Big Three. Though, he supposed that was better than being known as the one with the family trauma. 
But people often mistook his silence for thoughtfulness, he realized. Or an intense observation of sorts. And while at times that was the case, most times, it was simply because he didn’t have anything to say. 
Shouto blinked as he realized the situation he was in. 
He had just stopped a villain from robbing a luxury clothing store for the third time this month, nothing too exciting, yet the journalists showed up each time for an interview with him after. 
“Sir, we are live,” the reporter reminded with a nervous laugh. “We asked if you had a message for any…”
She kept talking, but Shouto was unable to concentrate. Not because he had heard it millions of times before, but because he noticed a strange movement from the corner of his eyes. 
This was one of the times he was both silent and observant. 
Shouto spotted you crossing the street on your phone, staring at your screen and completely oblivious that a car was headed your way with little to no sign of stopping. 
Without thinking of how it would look to the public for him to ditch an interview mid-sentence, he ran over to you before he even processed his legs moving. Throwing his right arm out in front of him, he sent a wall of ice up to block the vehicle’s predicted path, reaching you just in time to sweep you off your feet and carry you away from the road as the ice began to shatter from the impact. 
The ice wall was thick enough that the car slowed before fully breaking through, but that didn’t stop Shouto from instinctively shielding you with his body in the event that ice shards propelled towards you. 
Once he heard the sound of a crash and alarms, he figured the vehicle was fully stopped and the authorities arrived to assess the situation themselves. Would he get scolded by his agency for putting up an ice wall and potentially damaging someone’s vehicle? It was likely so. But that was better than someone actually getting hit by a car instead. 
The world wanted heroes, but only when they fit into their ideal mold. And while rules and regulations helped keep order in the world, in moments like these when someone’s life was in danger, Shouto couldn’t be bothered to care.
Slowly, his body relaxed and he was able to finally take a look at you. At the person who, for some reason, was so focused on their phone they didn’t notice a car coming at them. 
Any criticisms that threatened to come out of his lips stayed there once he got a good look at your features. He found himself taken aback by how beautiful you looked, though he quickly cleared his throat and recovered from his blatant staring. 
“Be careful when you’re crossing the street,” said Shouto, walking over to a section of grass and away from the commotion that was happening on the road, with you still in his arms. “What was keeping you so occupied?” 
You looked up at him guiltily, your phone clutched between your hands. “I was trying to order my food…” 
He blinked. As a pro hero, he shouldn’t be one the judge victims. But he couldn’t help but raise his brow just a bit. 
“I was really hungry,” you said sheepishly, hiding your face in embarrassment. “But I can’t believe I was so focused on my order I didn’t realize the car wasn’t stopping!” You sighed to yourself before meeting Shouto’s eyes once more. “Thank you for saving me, Shouto. I’m sure you had much more pressing matters to attend to instead of saving some random person off the street.”
He shook his head. “That’s the most important part of the job. Saving people.” 
You smiled gratefully at him and he almost had to look away from your dazzling grin. “Well, thank you for saving this idiotic person right here.” You gestured towards yourself. “Still, I hope my order went through…”
A mixture between a snort and a laugh escaped his lips. You had almost gotten run over and your biggest concern was whether or not your dinner was on its way? 
“It’s didn’t!” you cried in exasperation as you peeked at your phone. “Well, I might as well get a convenience store meal at this point.” Sighing, you leaned your head against his chest for a brief moment of comfort. “By the way, you can set me down now. I think people are taking pictures of us.” 
“Oh,” said Shouto, “right.”
Carefully, he loosened his hold on you and set your feet carefully onto the floor. Before fully letting go of you, he made sure you were stable and steady. For some, it took a while for the events to process and the panic to settle in, and he wanted to ensure you were truly okay. 
You had a worried look on your face as you noticed the video cameras still focused on the two of you. 
“Will you get in trouble for this?” you whispered, leaning close to his ear. 
“For rescuing someone from a getting hit by a car and talking to them after?” He considered things for a moment. “Most likely. But it’s okay. The most important thing is you are safe, both physically and mentally.”
Giggling, you nodded, reaching up to pat him on top of his head. Shouto was startled by the sudden touch, but he didn’t pull away.
“Who knew Shouto was such a worrywart,” you teased. “I’m safe and unharmed, all thanks to you. In fact, to show my gratitude… Why don’t I treat you to some convenience store dinner? On me, of course!” 
Shouto was silent for a bit. There were plenty of things he should be thinking about right now. The headlines that would be made about Pro Hero Shouto saving someone and then going on a “date” with them right after. The damage it could do to his reputation. The overtime hours the agency would make his public relations team work.
Instead, his silence was used to think of what he exactly he wanted to get at the convenience store. 
“Okay,” Shouto said once he made up his mind. “I’ll take a curry bun.” 
You laughed and gestured for him to follow you to the nearest convenience store. “I like that, too. You have good taste.” 
He followed along beside you, pleased with himself when he heard your captivating laugh. 
“I think I want an egg sandwich tonight,” you stated, a thoughtful look on your face. “Or maybe some fried chicken. Or an egg sandwich and fried chicken? And a smoothie for a drink and dessert all in one item! But maybe I want a crepe instead…”
As you rambled on, Shouto suddenly understood how you were too engrossed with trying to order food on your phone that you didn’t realize a vehicle was approaching you earlier. And while that was dangerous, he found it slightly endearing. Just as long as you were away from any cars. 
Shouto was so focused on listening to you that he hardly paid attention to the look of shock on the reporters’ faces and the influx of calls he was receiving from his agency. 
Right now, he simply wanted to hear you talk more and eat a curry bun. 
The rest, he could deal with later. 
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shegetsburned · 5 months ago
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❝ a man of honor ❞ w. kento nanami 𝜗𝜚.
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BRIDGERTON AU⌇
• — dearest reader. this author finds herself bearing the most curious of news, for it isn’t without surprise that the viscount nanami has caused ruckus amongst the young ladies of the ton, upon his arrival. gracing us with his presence, he has not yet announced himself eligible for this social season and, i believe, does not intend to do so. but doesn’t love find itself in the most peculiar of places when one least expects it? • — a/n. let’s just say that bridgerton has, yet again, a hold on me, also, i am in no way an historian nor a perfect writer but i do hope y’all can enjoy this different little piece.
.nsfw.
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˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who, despite himself, had found the need to return to london for a matter of affair and is set on departing as unbothered by the social season as he was when he first arrived.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who has never taken his social standing lightly and knows he’ll be the object of many desires considering his status as a seven and twenty years old unmarried man. described as a man of honour, suited for the finest lady, but buried in his work and duties.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who attends most balls, making quick appearances here and there and avoiding hungry mamas at all costs, partially hiding in the gardens or engaging in business conversations with other suitors, always eager to return to his chamber. that was until he found the most beautiful excuse to not participate in any courting competition and declare himself ineligible to the ton. you.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who had found you hiding in the very same place he was, that night. a very debutante, who didn’t feel yet a need to marry. you had approached him in need of advice, not in need of a husband. you knew who he was but had no intention nor expectation for any kind of courteous exchange. you just wanted to know how he was successfully avoiding many of his greatest admirers without breaking a sweat.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who did not give much thought to the both of you talking at first, it was easy and the conversation never felt forced. you did feel like a breath of fresh air. you had attracted attention amongst the men of ton quite easily with your gorgeous smile and attentive gaze, which kento had immediately noticed but when you felt like he was really listening to the words you uttered, you became quite acquainted to the viscount’s presence.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami whom you had invited for dinner with your family and was confirmed to be quite the gentleman everyone said he was. well, at least, that’s how he appeared before your family. from across the table, he couldn’t keep his eyes off of you. the way you parted your lips to eat or placed your mouth so carefully around the gorgeous glass to drink hypnotized him. your warm smile and laughter were music to his ears, therefore most of his attention was directed towards you.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami whose thoughts becomes dreams in a matter of weeks. your body draws itself in his head. every time you graze his shoulder with yours, his heart flutters. he’s almost ashamed to admit that he’d rather sleep than awaken alone in his bed when he’s been having the most indecent dreams about the gorgeous debutante he’s unable to have. your words resonate in his sleep until they become pleads and moans he wishes to hear.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who despite his title, his honor and even his words, became aware of the fact that he wanted much more than being friends with you. although he didn’t want to burden you with his occupied life, he couldn’t help but boil when one curious man came to your encounter, asking for a dance. you weren’t a fool and quickly noticed the viscount’s name written all over your dancing card moments later. you did wonder how it would look to the eyes of everyone else, but he surely didn’t care.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who has privatized your company not only by dancing with you all night during the ball but also by inviting you to his estate in london. it wasn’t long before you realized how occupied he was but also how he tried his best to escape your chaperone and have you all to himself in his bureau.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who loathes the thought of not having you close to him. he had offered no ring nor promises, yet here he was, teaching everything your mama hadn’t. taking away every ounce of purity you once displayed to every other eligible suitor with his careful hands. you could still feel his lips along your neck and his hold around your waist hours after the act.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who truly believes he is a man of honour, even with your legs parted for his hand to explore your most sensitive places with your naked back against the walls of the library of his estate. the sound you make, he wished no other men to hear when it graced his ears, hurrying his movements and developing the most intense of needs. he trailed your back ever so gently to detach and remove your gown with such delicacy it made your whole body shudder.
˗ˏˋʚ viscount!nanami who, despite engaging in such shameful activities, roams around you, just as before. having eyes only for you and ignoring every little distraction that came his way. the rest of the ton surely did wonder how the most anticipated pairing of the season will officially come to be. many questions lingers in one’s mind when two individuals such as yourselves spend so much time together. had he purposely made you wait to attract the other suitors’ attention and find you as desirable as he did? had he already compromised your integrity and claimed you for himself in secret? he did fancy himself the gentleman, so why hadn’t the big question been asked already?
surely, you did know it wouldn’t be the last time you’d be able to call him "my lord" and it certainly wouldn’t be the last time he’d be able to look at you in the eyes and call you his lady.
© shegetsburned 2024 please do not repost/edit/or claim my writing as your own.
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discotitsposts · 6 months ago
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strawberry lipgloss🍓
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spencer reid x reader (this one’s for my strawberry lovers)
spencer can’t keep his senses off reader when she wears a lipgloss that drives him insane (wrote this since i got a new strawberry lipgloss today)
-🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—🍓—
It’s 8:04 am when she walks into the BAU.
Spencer’s working on some files when he notices you are 4 minutes later than your usual time of arrival. He furrows his brow at this strange abnormality but shrugs it off quickly. Maybe you just had woken up late. Your alarm didn’t go off perhaps. Or maybe there was traffic. No, that couldn’t be it. Not from the route you go or at that time. That area doesn’t get congested at all, if ever.
In any case it wasn’t Spencer’s business. Hotch’s yes. Not Spencer’s. You had no need to explain yourself to him. He wasn’t your boyfriend no matter how much he wished and hoped he could be.
He hadn’t been one to believe in wishes but his last birthday it was what he’d wished on the candles while you’d smiled at him sweetly. You were doing that now. You smiled when you saw him every morning. He adored it.
As you approach his desk you chime, “Good morning Spencer!” in a sing-songy voice per usual.
You get closer and drop a small bag on his desk. That’s when he notices. You smell like a fresh baked strawberry pie. He knew you normally wore a sweet vanilla perfume. You were wearing it today, he could smell it. Something was different though, there was a hint of strawberry.
Unfortunately for him, you walk away and sit down at your own desk. You scent disappears with you. Spencer frowns and opens the bag you’d given him. The smell of the contents immediately hits his nostrils.
A chocolate strawberry donut!
You notice him pick up the donut. A smile forms on his face.
“Thanks!” He takes a bite.
“Delicious!”
“I knew you’d like it. It’s both of our favorite flavors!”
Spencer smiles at you. You were always doing kind gestures like this for him. You did kind favors for a lot of people, but for Spencer it felt so special when you did things for him. It’s why he was so in love with you. He goes back to his files happily eating.
Minutes later, you’re staring at him debating whether or not you should ask him a question. You decide to ask. You stand up and walk over to him. He smells the sweet strawberry scent radiating off of you and looks up.
“Yes?” He’s happily staring at you with those big brown eyes. Getting lost in the sight of you.
“Could you please do something for me, Spencer?”
“You can do whatever you want to me…” He says without thinking. He quickly corrects himself with, “I mean what do you need me to do? For you.” He clears his throat. “Anything.”
You reach into your purse and pull out a small red tube. “Could you put this on for me please?” You open the tube. “I lost my mirror.”
“Of course.” He takes the tube and his hand shakes a little. He squeezes the tube a little so the product comes up and presses the applicator onto your lips. He spreads the product over your mouth being careful to not get it anywhere but your lips.
The scent was just like strawberry jam.
When he’s done, he can’t stop staring at your shiny lips. He can see his reflection in them.
Oh, how he’d like to press his own to yours and never let go. The strong scent of strawberries, now dominating his nostrils, wasn’t helping.
Unconsciously, he leans in ever so slightly. You notice and start to lean in too. Following his movements. You’re just centimeters away from touching each other.
You would have too, if JJ hadn’t walked in and announced a new case.
When you meet in the conference room, Spencer sits next to you. He keeps inhaling your scent.
When you’re on the jet you’re reapplying your perfume, you spritz it behind your ears, on your wrists, and your ankles.
Spencer watches in awe. You put the perfume bottle back in the bag and pick up the strawberry lip balm again. He’s awaiting you to ask him to reapply it for you since you’d told him you’d lost your mirror. You reach for something else inside your purse. You pull something out.
A small pink mirror.
You hadn’t lost it. Spencer smiles to himself.
“Just me or does she smell extra good today?” Morgan observes and motions his head towards you. Spencer nods in agreement.
“Yeah…”
You’re curled up reading a book when Spencer sits next to you. You look up at him and give him a warm smile.
“Nice mirror you got there.” He smirks. Confidence was spewing off him all of a sudden.
“So why did you tell me you lost it?” He asked, he knew the answer but wanted to hear you admit it. He suddenly had the urge to make you squirm.
“Um, you’re a profiler shouldn’t you know?” You retort.
Spencer stares at you for a second, unsure how to respond. The corners of his mouth curl into a smile when he thinks of something.
“Well then, I’ll tell you why, you wanted me to notice that wonderful scent of strawberries. You wanted me to look at your lips and want you so badly my bones hurt. Anyone who knows you, knows, you never leave home without your mirror.” Spencer innocently smiles.
“Why did you play along if you knew?”
He leans in closer and whispers in your ear, “I can’t resist you. Or your lipgloss.” He smiles and goes back to where he was sitting before. You stare at him in shock.
Morgan pats his arm and says, “My man!”
Then Spencer does the unthinkable and pulls out his cell phone, a very rare occasion. You feel a twinge of jealously at the thought he might be texting someone else, when your phone dings with a text.
Spencer: Would you like to have dinner at Tony’s with me this weekend? Like as a date?
You: I’d love to, but why didn’t you just ask when you were over here?
Spencer: Look up.
You look up and see Morgan teasing Spencer about whispering in your ear. He’s pretending to hump a pillow while Hotch is holding his face in his hands in disbelief.
“Ask her out kid! Strike while the iron is hot!” Morgan then motions spanking. Hotch looks like he is on the verge of tears.
You laugh and go back to your text thread.
You: I am so sorry.
You look over again and see Spencer smiling at his phone.
Spencer: Can’t wait for our date! Make sure to wear that strawberry lip gloss.
You: Of course, xoxo💋
the end, for now
-
i might do a part two about the date not sure yet
update part two is here
-
tags 🍓-
if you’d like to be tagged u can comment a 🍓
@whoisspence
@starshinegarcia
@fictionalobssed
@exoticisles
@in-another-april
@gallifreyan-idiocracy
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fairyofhee · 8 months ago
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HEARTLESS.
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PAIRING. fuckbuddy!heeseung x afab!reader
SYNOPSIS. you confront your fuck buddy after he dumped you. and despite how heartless he turned out to be, you still ended up faced down in his bed.
WARNINGS. contains smut! MINORS DNI. dom!heeseung, nipple play, smacking kink, unprotected sex, usage of pet names like princess, heeseung is mean, a red flag. 3k words.
NOTES. this was originally a sunghoon fic but it flopped so i edited it into a heeseung fic lol. feedback is appreciated!
It’s been ten hours since you’ve last seen Lee Heeseung. Ten hours ago, you were lying on his chest with your hand entangled in his. Then quickly after, you were left feeling empty.
Ten hours later, you are outside his apartment with your hair wet and goosebumps on your skin from the frosty air. Hard rain poured and it was cold as ice outside, but you didn’t care because you needed to see him.
You were standing before his door which quickly opened to reveal a messy haired boy. “Y/N?” Jake questions, eyes wide when he sees you outside at 11 pm in the evening, almost shivering and your hair drenched from the rain. “What are you doing here? It’s late and storming.”
“Where is he?” You ask as your throat evidently bobbles, voice lowly cracking. Jake notices your brows pulling together and gives you an apprehensive look before letting you inside.
“He’s in his room,” he gestures to upstairs.
“Is he alone?”
He shakes his head and this starts to worry you. He’s not alone, which causes a tight knot in your chest that you force yourself to ignore. Jake begins to walk up the stairs and you follow his lead even if you knew exactly where his room is at. You’ve been in it multiple times and slept over for a few nights. “Sunghoon and Jay are in there,” Jake says before opening the bedroom door.
Oh. The relief you’d just felt.
Immediately, you’re hit with loud voices echoing in the room that hurt your ears and the sight of the boys surrounded near a desk playing video games. They all turn their heads at once, except for Heeseung who was too occupied with the game. Sunghoon taps Heeseung’s shoulders who quickly meets your eye contact.
He seems confused, giving you a strong, dazed look of bewilderment. It doesn’t last long because he’s back to game, ignoring your presence. You roll your eyes, already used to this new behavior that he didn’t have twenty four hours ago.
His ignorance doesn’t stop you from approaching him and taking off his headset so that he could clearly hear what you’re about to say. Sunghoon and Jay watched as you stood close to the boy who left you feeling empty.
“You’ve been here the whole time?” You sounded more hurt than angry.
“Yeah.”
You give a scoffed laugh at his dry response, “That’s really all you have to say? Yeah?”
Patiently waiting, you hope for a response but seconds later, you get no word out of him. Your eyes travel to Sunghoon and Jay shifting their stance to stand next to Jake, who was sat on the bed noticing his friend’s behavior but choosing to stay silent and butt-in.
Heeseung’s ignorance starts to cause pain, this was not like him at all. Your chest stings once again because he’s choosing to believe that this morning didn’t mean anything, that it doesn’t affect your so-called relationship.
Your so-called relationship consisted of endless exclusive fucks. And you remember it like it was yesterday, a hookup that was only supposed to be a one night stand due to intoxication. You both met at a party thanks to your friends, then he brought you home after sobbing up where you invited him to your bed. Three months in, your friends with benefits situation started to become complicated, more conflicting.
Heeseung gently placed the controller on his desk before turning around in his chair and gazing up at you, “What else do you want me to say?”
How unbelievable. Did he forget how he fucked you, practically cuddled with you, slept on your bed, then called it quits the next morning leaving you to put the blame on no one but yourself? The audacity of him to make you relive it.
“We spent the night together then you dumped me without an explanation this morning,” you grit, tone becoming more passive.
He doesn’t respond again, how cowardly of him. “Did I do something wrong? Or d-did you find someone else?” You feel your throat close up when wondering your thoughts aloud.
“If you found someone else then you should’ve told me at least. Because leaving me like that makes me think that I did something. And I know I didn’t do anything because I’ve been nothing but good to you Hee,” you ramble.
Heeseung stared at the floor the whole time you basically vented, possibly comprehending your words, you’d hope, then drew his attention to the boys behind you. “Is she done?” He spits out, pointing his thumb towards you.
“Dude,” you heard one of the boys mutter. You didn’t know who exactly said it since you were on the verge of tears, not being able to recognize the person in front of you. How can he act so cold?
“You’re heartless, Heeseung.”
As if he turned off a switch, he reached for your hand slowly pulling you closer. You try to yank away from his grip, but his hold on your hand tightened. Realizing he wasn’t going to let go, you relaxed until he suddenly yanked you towards him, your smaller figure now sitting on his lap. His arm wrapped tight on your waist, preventing you to get up and leave.
“Can you give us a minute?” Heeseung dismissed the boys and they quickly got out of the room, closing the door on their way out.
You turn your head to face Heeseung, who’s grinning while playing with a strand of your hair. You’re confused, still upset, and you want to leave, but this is how you’re gonna get the most attention out of him, you think. So you stay put.
“I shouldn’t have come here.”
He was quiet again, he’s pretty good at ignoring you, until he lets out a big exhale. “You’re so mad, Y/N. You came all the way here late at night, driving in the rain and risking yourself getting sick just to yell at me,” he laughed.
You were about to speak but you let him continue.
“So what if we didn’t fuck anymore? Not everything is about sex,” he ironically remarks.
“It’s not about that-“
“Unless,” he cuts you off and ponders for a moment, causing his lips to dry which he soothed with a quick flick of his tongue. “You are worried that I was with someone else, huh? That I left you to be another girl’s boy toy?”
You shake your head and remove his arm that was around your waist while ignoring how flushed your cheeks were because he wasn’t wrong.
“Did you come all the way here because you want me, Y/N? You have this- sort of attachment towards me?” Your body tensed at his words as he breathed out against your ear. The heat was now palpable and you couldn’t deny the sudden feeling in the pit of your stomach. You force yourself to stand up from his lap.
“You think I like you?” You chuckle nervously with arms crossed before allowing Heeseung’s tall figure to tower over you as he gets up from the chair and stands in front of you.
“That’s funny, I didn’t say anything about liking me.”
You're frozen in place, quiet, and not saying a word. Oh, how the tables have turned. You didn’t realize that Heeseung was far too close to you, and you didn’t do anything to get rid of this close proximity. You watch as a smirk grows on his face when he lifts a hand to tuck a piece of hair behind your ear, revealing your blistering cheeks. He loves when you become a shy and blushing mess just for him because it was rare occurrence. “If you’re desperate to have me, then take me,” his words come out as a low whisper.
“I’m all yours, claim me.” You feel his hot breath fanning on your face while returning his long stare, contemplating your next move. Suddenly you couldn’t take it anymore as you pull him even closer and attack his lips, feeling both of his hands cupping your entire face.
Heeseung leans further down to press a trail of kisses against your jaw, sending shivers throughout your entire body by extending them down to the hollow of your throat. You took a deep breath before pulling away to tug at the end of his shirt while his hand slides under yours, cupping your breast firmly under your bra and playing with your oversensitive nipples.
He removes his shirt, revealing his exposed chest as you take off yours and unclasp your bra. Heeseung steps back for a second to admire you then is quickly burying his face on your chest, taking your left breast and hungrily leaving kisses.
A loud groan leaves your lips when his tongue makes its way to your nipple. He suddenly starts to suck hard and your legs become wobbly, you feel yourself about to fall but you managed to gain composure to stand and grind against the noticeable tent in his pants.
You hook and wrap your arms tightly around Heeseung’s neck before he’s easily picking you up from off the ground and propping you on his bed. Everything happens so fast when he immediately attacks your mouth then grabs your whole body again to turn you around so that you’re faced down, feeling how hard he is from behind.
Heeseung grabs the band of your pants and pulls them down, quickly slipping off your panties and spreading your wetness. All that occurs as you bury yourself into his bedsheets, impatiently waiting for him to do something next. He starts to strip off his pants by untying the strings, his boxers followed by it and you feel his hardened cock pressed up behind you as he rubs slow circles into your clit.
“I barely did anything and you’re so wet.” You soon whimper at the loss when he removes his hand. “Seems like you’re ready for my cock now?” He softly asks while playing with your hair that’s splayed against your back, sticking to your skin since it was still wet from the rain. You nod frantically, unable to see the corners of Heeseung’s lips twitch upwards when he notices the way your legs are spreading wider.
“What was that, princess?” He took his throbbing length in his hand that dripped with precum and began to stroke himself to the view of you in front of him. A tease he was, resting his cock on your folds making you clench when he wasn’t inside you yet. “I want you now, please. I need you.”
A loud slap rings throughout the room as Heeseung’s hand makes contact with your ass causing you to moan. “Say it again. Louder,” his voice deeply laced with desire.
“I need your cock! Want it inside me now, please Hee!” He slams inside you without a warning, already bottoming out and reaching your cervix. Heeseung slips out his length and slams inside once more, satisfied when he hears the familiar sound leaving your mouth at the sensation.
“I fucked you last night and you’re still tight.”
A hand comes up to grip your waist, helping himself to set a fast pace when hearing your whimpers and moans that he deeply missed although he fucked you last night. The memory and current feeling has Heeseung slamming in and out of your cunt, head thrown back, loving the intense friction of being inside you.
“Do you love it princess?” He groans before placing small butterfly kisses on your back. You grip the sheets tightly, having trouble speaking. Heeseung slaps your ass when you don’t answer. “You feel so good, s-so fucking good,” You blurt.
You feel him beginning to roll his hips sensually, hitting your spot while still keeping his fast past. “You love my dick? Hm?” Heeseung feels you clenching when your orgasm is near. “I love your dick so much. Made to be inside me, Hee.”
He felt himself twitch at your words and could feel that you were close so he tightened his grip on your hips, helping your body to move in and out of his cock. The pleasure was overwhelming and more than anything that you have felt before (you say this everytime) but it felt so good, a reminder to why you choose to continue sleeping with him.
Heeseung takes his thumb to rub your clit which helps you reach your high. You know that he’s about to come when he increases his pace. You decide to help him out by clenching your warm walls around him, in which he sometimes complains about, because he could cum without even knowing.
“Ah, fuck princess,” he pulls out to paint your back. Once he’s finished, he kissed your lower back and massaged your thighs before getting up to grab a towel to clean you.
You’re now laid on his chest and it feels all too familiar that you’re suddenly afraid. “Should I leave before you dump me again?“ You joke.
“No,” he shakes his head. “I’m not that heartless to let you drive in the rain.”
You roll your eyes and laugh, “I hate you.”
“You made that clear earlier.”
There’s still conversation needed to be made about his sudden behavior from this morning, but you choose to let it aside for now to soak in this moment of being with him.
“My answer is no,” he interrupts your thoughts.
“Hm?”
“I’m not seeing anyone else.”
You smiled at his response, maybe that’s all you needed to hear from him for now.
© fairyofhee 2024.
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anniebeemine · 3 months ago
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I <3 my boyfriend- s.r. x fem!reader
Warnings: possessiveness, fingering, unprotected sex on the kitchen counter (not mindful, not demure)
Spencer walked through the front door, exhausted from the long case, but the familiar warmth of home immediately began to ease the tension in his shoulders. He could hear you in the kitchen, the soft clatter of dishes and the comforting aroma of a homemade meal greeting him as he dropped his bag by the door.
"Hey," you called out, a smile in your voice as you turned to see him. "You're just in time. Sit down, I'll get you a plate."
He walked into the kitchen, his tired eyes lighting up as they met yours. You looked so content, so effortlessly beautiful in the soft light of the kitchen. He started to protest as he made his way to the table. "I can do it myself, you know. You don’t have to—"
But you were already at his side, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. “It’s fine,” you said softly, your fingers lingering for a moment longer. “Let me take care of you.”
He didn’t argue further, letting out a quiet sigh of gratitude as he sat down at the table. You served him a plate of his favorite meal, and the sight alone made his stomach rumble. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until just now.
Spencer picked up his fork and took his first bite, savoring the taste of home-cooked food. He started to say something, but the words caught in his throat as he looked up, his eyes widening.
You had turned around to grab something from the counter, and that’s when he noticed. The shorts you were wearing, snug and perfectly fitted, had bold, playful letters across the back: I ❤️ my boyfriend. The fabric clung to your hips and hugged every curve with precision, leaving very little to the imagination. Spencer felt his face flush, his mouth suddenly dry.
He swallowed hard, almost choking on his food as he struggled to regain his composure. His eyes were glued to you, watching the way the shorts moved with you as you reached for a dish, then turned back around to face him. You were completely unaware of the effect you were having on him, which somehow made it even more alluring.
You noticed the way he was staring, a curious look crossing your face. “Are you okay?” you asked, concerned by the way he seemed to be struggling with his food.
Spencer cleared his throat, setting down his fork as he tried to find his voice. “Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Just—uh—got distracted for a second.”
You caught his gaze lingering on your shorts, and a playful idea bloomed in your mind. A smile tugged at the corner of your lips as you began to babble about your week, your tone light and innocent, as if nothing was out of the ordinary.
“So, you won’t believe what happened at work yesterday,” you started, turning your back to him as you reached for a glass on the counter. You shifted your hips slightly, knowing full well that his eyes were glued to the words on your shorts. “We had that huge project due, and of course, everything that could go wrong- well, thanks to yours truly, it did go wrong.”
Spencer nodded absentmindedly, his fork hovering over his plate, but he barely picked at his food. His appetite seemed to vanish as he focused on you, every move you made drawing his attention like a magnet.
You continued talking, moving around the kitchen with a deliberate slowness, making sure to drop little things here and there—an innocent spoon, a napkin—just to give yourself an excuse to bend over and pick them up. Each time, you could feel his eyes burning into you, the tension between you two growing with every second.
“Anyway,” you went on, bending down to retrieve a napkin you had accidentally dropped, “I managed to get everything done, but I swear, I don’t know how I didn’t lose my mind.” You straightened up and turned to face him, noticing how his gaze quickly darted away, pretending to be interested in his food.
You walked over to the table, standing beside him, casually adjusting your shorts before leaning on the table, giving him a perfect view. You reached over for the salt and pepper shaker, placing them closer to him. “But that’s enough about me. How was the case?” you asked, feigning innocence as you locked eyes with him.
Spencer swallowed hard, his eyes betraying the effect you were having on him. “It was... intense,” he managed to say, his voice a little strained. “But nothing I couldn’t handle.”
“Mmm, I bet,” you murmured, reaching over to brush a stray lock of hair from his forehead. You let your fingers linger a bit longer than necessary, enjoying the way his breath hitched at your touch. You let the pads of your fingers rub his scalp, earning a purr from his throat.
He shifted in his seat, trying to focus on anything but you, but it was no use. You were relentless in your teasing, and he was quickly losing the battle against his own self-control.
You straightened up, walking away from the table to the other side of the kitchen. “Oh, I almost forgot,” you said, opening the cabinet and pretending to look for something. You bent over slightly, giving him another perfect view as you rummaged through the shelves. “I wanted to show you something I bought the other day…”
Spencer’s patience was wearing thin, and you could feel the heat of his gaze on you as you continued your little charade. When you finally turned back around, his eyes were dark, filled with a mix of frustration and desire that made your heart race.
“I, uh... I think I’m done eating,” he said, pushing his plate away and standing up from the table. His voice was rough, his resolve clearly hanging by a thread.
You smiled sweetly, stepping closer to him. “Are you sure? You barely touched your dinner."
He didn’t answer, his eyes locked on yours, the tension between you two reaching its peak. You could see the struggle in his eyes, the way he was trying so hard to stay composed.
But you had other plans.
Without warning, you reached out and grabbed the edge of his shirt, pulling him closer. “I assume it's the shorts?” you whispered, your voice low and sultry.
That was all it took. Spencer’s restraint snapped, and before you could say another word, he had you pinned against the counter, his lips crashing into yours with a hunger that left you breathless.
He pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, “yeah.”
You grinned, your fingers tangling in his hair as you pulled him back in for another kiss, the playful energy between you both finally spilling over into something much more intense.
“I knew you'd like them,” you whispered, your voice a mix of challenge and invitation.
Spencer’s breath was hot against your lips as he smiled, his hands gripping your waist with a possessiveness that sent shivers down your spine. “How could I not?” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.
You could feel the tension between you dissolving into something electric, something that made your heart race and your skin tingle. The playful teasing had ignited a fire, and now there was no going back.
His lips found yours again, this time slower, more deliberate, as if savoring every moment. You melted into him, your hands roaming over his chest and shoulders, feeling the muscles beneath his shirt tense with need. He kissed you deeply, his tongue tracing the seam of your lips, coaxing them apart as he claimed your mouth with a hunger that left you weak in the knees.
His hands wandered down to the small of your back, pulling you even closer until there was no space left between you. The heat of his body pressed against yours was intoxicating, and you could feel the steady, powerful beat of his heart through the fabric of his shirt.
Spencer broke the kiss, his forehead resting against yours as you both tried to catch your breath. His hands slid down to your hips, his thumbs grazing the waistband of your shorts, sending sparks of anticipation through you.
“Those shorts,” he breathed, his voice rough and low, “are driving me crazy.”
You grinned, your heart racing as you ran your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer. “I know,” you whispered back, your lips brushing against his ear. “That was the plan.”
A deep, throaty laugh rumbled in his chest, and before you could say anything else, he lifted you onto the counter with a swift, effortless motion. His hands found your thighs, spreading them apart so he could step between them, pressing his hips against yours in a way that made you gasp.
Your hands gripped the edge of the counter as he leaned in, his lips trailing down your neck, kissing and nipping at your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You tilted your head back, giving him more access, your breath coming in shallow, rapid bursts as his kisses grew more insistent.
“You know,” he murmured against your throat, his voice a low rumble that sent shivers through you, “I could think of a few other ways for you to show me how much you love your boyfriend.”
Your breath hitched at his words, a thrill running through you as you felt the heat of his hands sliding up your thighs, teasing the hem of your shorts. You bit your lip, your heart pounding as you leaned in to whisper against his ear, “Then show me.”
That was all the invitation he needed. With a low growl, he captured your lips in another searing kiss, his hands gripping your hips with a need that matched your own. The playful teasing was long gone, replaced by a raw, undeniable passion that consumed you both. His lips moved across your cheek and he began peppering your jawline and neck with open-mouthed kisses while his fingers reached down into the space between you to gently rub the pad of his thumb over your covered clit. You felt his fingers tug at your shorts from the crotch area. Your breath hitched in your throat at the feeling and without even realizing it, your hips had begun to buck into his touch, desperate for more.
You lifted your hips, trying to help him remove them, but he didn't move. "Keep 'em on," he murmured.
You tilted your head, pulling back. "Really?"
He nodded, jutting his bottom lip out just enough. "You love your boyfriend, right?"
In the matter of moments, you were a moaning mess after pulled your shorts to the side. He slipped two fingers into your wet cunt, a gasp leaving your lips at the sudden intrusion.
"Spence," you whined, meeting the slow pace of his finger swith your hips each time.
The blissed out look on your face must have given him the confidence to keep talking. "Look at you," he mumbled. "So perfect, so ready to cum all over my fingers."
"Oh, god," you moaned.
"You've always been such a tease," he tutted, pulling his hand away. "Should I give you the same treatment?''
You shook your head, gripping his wrist. "Please don't, Spencer. I deserve it." Usually, you'd argue back that he's equally as much of a tease, but you're desperate.
He keeps your shorts to the side with one hand, undoing his pants with the other. "Are you sure?" He mocked, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips.
You smiled. "Yes, I do. And you sort of owe me for ruining my shorts."
He lined himself up, slowly pushing into you. "I guess it's only fair."
The moan that escaped your mouth as you felt him fill you was obscene and you would have been embarrassed by it if you weren’t so wrapped up in the feeling of him inside of you. His breath hitched in his throat at the feeling of being deeply seated within you and you could tell he was fighting to keep his eyes open as you lightly rocked your hips against him. You did this for as long as he'd let you, giving him just enough to keep him satisfied.
"I can't take this," he said softly, bringing his hands to your hips again. He nodded down to where your two bodies met. "Hold-"
He didn't even have to finish. You used two fingers hooked around your shorts to keep them out of the way. You reeled into him as he pulled you against him, thighs flush against your ass. He set a much faster pace, brushing against every spot that drove you wild.
"Spence, right there," you gasped, your voice doing nothing to hide the desperation.
“Does that feel good, pretty girl?” His dominant side was clearly taking over and all you could do was nod in response and pull your shorts further.
He stopped abruptly, pulling your hips from the counter. You landed on your feet as he turned you around, bending you over. You spread your thighs apart just wide enough for him to slot between them. He pulled your shorts lower and to the side again.
“Come on, beautiful, use your words,” he urged, sliding in easily, setting a slow but even pace. The change in position had you gripping the counter tightly as you pushed yourself back against him.
“Yes, fuck, it feels so good. Just please, keep going.”
That seemed to be all he needed as he picked up the pace. With each thrust, his tip grazed your g-spot deliciously and you felt your impending orgasm building within you. And he must have been able to tell by the way your walls began contracting around him that you were close because he reached up to wrap his free hand around your hair.
"Do you love your boyfriend?" He taunted.
You nodded, the sting of your hair being pulled only adding to the sensations running through your body. "Yes," you whined, dragging out the syllable.
"How much? So much that you bought these pretty little shorts to prove it? So much that you'll let me fill you up and then walk around in these?" A wicked smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he watched you, his eyes gleaming with satisfaction at your response. “Good,” he whispered, his voice dark and commanding. “Because I plan to make sure you feel just how much I love you too. Every. Single. Inch.”
All at once, your back arched further into the counter, orgasm rocketing through your body. Each neuron fried as stars clouded your vision. Obscenities tumbled out of his mouth as his eyes rolled back as he finished, slowing down to ride through his own orgasm. Spencer pulled out, situating your shorts back in place. You winced as you stood up, still leaning against the counter.
"I'll buy you new shorts," he offered.
You waved him off. "I bought three pairs."
"Three pairs?" He asked, almost unable to believe it.
"One in each color," you said with a nod. You managed a breathless laugh, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm as you leaned into him for support. “I knew you’d like them,” you replied, a hint of playful defiance in your tone despite the way your legs trembled.
His eyes darkened with renewed interest, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know that?”
“Maybe,” you whispered, your voice sultry as you reached up to trace the line of his jaw. “But what a way to go.”
He laughed again, the sound filled with a mixture of affection and amusement. "Guess I’ll have to pace myself then," he teased, his hands roaming over your sides as he leaned in to kiss you once more, slow and deep.
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actiniumwrites · 18 days ago
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the perfect pair [part two]
synopsis: their reaction to finding out you have a tcg card of them
characters: scaramouche, alhaitham, arlecchino, childe, and kinich x gn!reader (separately)
warnings: mostly fluff with like a pinch of angst in alhaitham’s. i also didn’t proofread these :(
notes: part one got so much love and so many of you asked me to make a part two with more characters so here you guys go <3
part one
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Scaramouche:
Scaramouche sees it one day while you’re both cleaning up your shared house and you accidentally knocked over your deck, scattering the cards on the floor
The card you have of him just so happens to end up right next to his foot
He’s only ever heard of TCG in passing from other people or when Cyno was talking about it back in the tournament ages ago, but he never really cared to look into what it was
He’s immensely confused because what the fuck is his face doing on a playing card
You embarrassedly try to explain it to him, but he just glares at it for a second before raising his brows and looking at you
“This is really weird,” he says bluntly and flips it over in his hands while mumbling to himself, “at least they made me look cool.”
You just snatch it back from him and scoff as you put it away in your deck holder, explaining that you were going to show it to him later
“Yeah, whatever, I better be the strongest card in there.”
Alhaitham:
Very unamused
Although he plays with you and the rest of the group, it isn’t very often and he doesn’t care about it as much as the rest of you do
You pull it out from behind your back one day as you’re both walking home from the Akademiya
“Surprise! Look what I got, isn’t it so cool?” you beam at him, shoving the card in his face
He takes the card from your hand, his reaction not changing from his normal face as he does. He inspects it before giving it back to you, “Seriously? You got a card of me?”
It upsets you because you were really happy and it took nearly a month for the guy to make it for you
So the literal second your face falls and you start to get embarrassed, he backtracks completely
“No, it’s fine. I think it’s really cool,” Alhaitham says almost instantly.
And he isn’t lying either. Is it a little cheesy? Yes. However, Alhaitham secretly does like that you have it and care so much about him that you want to have him in your playing deck
So he grabs your hand and holds it tightly in his, knowing he now has another way of subtly bragging to everyone that he’s dating you
Arlecchino:
“I’m afraid I don’t understand,” she’ll say when you pull out the card to show her, “What is this? A children’s game? Did one of the children put you up to this?”
You take the card back from across the table and pout at her, “No, it’s mine. I got it because we’re dating and I wanted to have a card of you.”
Arlecchino never really understood the point of games, no less TCG of all things. So she’s understandably confused when you start talking about it
It takes you rambling about the games rules and all the little details for her to finally believe that it really wasn’t one of the kids trying to pull a prank on her or something
And she finds it endearing in a way, although she doesn’t let you know that
You notice her looking a little lost and slide the card under the table and back into the rest of the deck sitting in your hands, “Sorry, I can get rid of it if you want.”
“No, there’s no need for that. I think it’s..cute.”
Kinich:
In the nicest way possible, he doesn’t really care
You show him immediately when you get it and Mualani and Kachina totally freak out
“No way! Do they have other ones too?” they’re both more excited than he is and ask if there were any of them since they were made after the competition
Don’t get me wrong though, it isn’t that he doesn’t care, but more specifically, he doesn’t really care about the card
He’s more happy to see that you’re excited about it and that makes his heart swell
And if Ajaw tries to say anything about it, well he wouldn’t even get the chance too because Kinich doesn’t want your moment being spoiled
He’s also very secretly a little giddy over the fact that you love him so much you want to have a card of him
Childe:
The biggest tease ever
Like he literally will never let it go once he finds the card left out on your dinner table from when you were playing with a friend the night before
“Oh wow, you have a card of me? That’s so adorable. I hope you’re destroying all your enemies with my card,” he’ll say arrogantly.
Unimpressed, you take the card from his hands while he’s laughing and shove it back in the deck
“No,” you scoff and decide to tease him back, “you normally die first, matter of fact. I’ve actually been meaning to find a replacement card.”
His jaw drops and he looks at you with the biggest pout, “Hey! That’s not very nice. Who would you even replace me with anyway? There’s no way there’s a stronger card out there than me.”
“Believe me, I could definitely find one,” you smirk at him and wait as he begins to nearly throw a fit. When he really starts to believe you, you laugh and hug him tightly, “Ha! you should’ve seen your face! I’m only joking, you know. Your card is my favorite.”
He stares down at you with his blue eyes and presses a kiss to your lips, “Yeah, that’s more like it.”
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madaqueue · 2 months ago
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TEAR MY FLESH, HOLD MY HAND, FEEL MY WARMTH
the weight that lies in a pinky promise
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pairing: suguru geto x gn!reader
themes/content: curse/canon au. fluff, angst. mentions of fights/difficult childhood. (wk: 3.2k)
a/n: this was originally gonna be for flufftober but it got a lil angsty teehee so here we are :) also the mouse on my computer stopped working so i did all this formatting on my phone bc i'm that dedicated to serving you guys this fic
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Suguru was a soft child. Chubby hands, round cheeks, gentle steps.
He was sweet in all the ways a child ought to be, at least according to your parents - sweet in all the ways you weren’t.
You, on the other hand, were loud, jarring, unreserved. “A handful,” you were always described as by those who attempted to care for you. Perhaps that’s why they allowed you such a great extent of freedom, tugging against the length of a leash they tried to place around you, but they’d need stronger chains to tie you down.
And yet, you and Suguru found your similarities - you were both unencumbered by expectations. I am who I am. In spite of everyone, in spite of the ways they tried to dig their tight hands around you and force you into something you weren’t. You are who you are.
The first time you met him, all you saw were tiny feet kicking the air, unable to reach the ground from where he perched upon the park bench. He was the only one not screaming, something you appreciated, something novel. Your life had held such chaos, constant arguments, slamming doors. The peace that wrapped around his small frame seemed to exude a comfort you craved, even if it couldn’t be articulated by your six-year-old mind, you were drawn to it. To him.
“Hi,” you chirped, lifting yourself next to him.
“Hi.”
When you grinned widely at him, he returned a thin-lipped smile, as though he had been trained by wild dogs who took eagerness as a threat, who wouldn’t dare snarl unless as a warning.
(He noticed your absence of fear immediately - how could you approach him so easily? Had you not been taught to be wary?)
(You had been taught. “Avoid strangers, they’ll hurt you.” But you would never choose the harm of the monsters you knew. Better to take your chances in the wild.)
Averting your gaze, your dirtied fingernails began absentmindedly picking at the green paint coating the wood beneath your legs. Your eyes landed on his knees, scuffed and bloody.
“Did that hurt?”
Without looking at you, he shakes his head. “No, I’m just clumsy. I fell off my bike.”
“That’s okay,” you hum, “I get bruises all the time. You must be pretty tough if it didn’t hurt.”
And this time, he giggles, crooked teeth poking through. “Anyone can get hurt, it doesn’t make me tough.”
Leaves rustle overhead as you let out a thoughtful sigh, allowing the sounds of the breeze to fill the silence. It’s comfortable, you realize, no tension hanging in the air like there always seems to be at home, no threat looming around the other side of the kitchen counter.
You tug with all the strength your muscles can muster at a large strip of paint. With a final pull, your palm catches along the fraying wood, splinters digging under your flesh as you let out a choked cry.
Immediately, the boy’s small hands wrap around your wrist, pulling it to his face. Worried eyes inspect the wound. “Are you okay?” he asks without looking up.
A small whimper falls from your throat, lower lip trembling as you hold back tears. “Y-yeah,” your voice wobbles.
You’re lying. He knows you’re lying - you aren’t particularly hard to read, he grows to learn, somehow always wearing your heart on your sleeve. It’s a trait he admires (perhaps because he’s never quite able to place his there so visibly).
When he frowns, you almost giggle at the sight - no child should frown like that. It’s endearing, the way his eyebrows furrow, mouth tugged downward.
“Can I make it better?”
It takes very little to make you trust him, but you believe he wouldn’t hurt you. Just as animals seem able to sense intent, an implicit knowledge that the human freeing them from a cage won’t inflict additional pain, you know that his stubby fingers won’t dig at your flesh and make you bleed.
So, you nod.
Determined eyes turn from your visibly pained face to your aching palm. Slowly, he removes the shards of wood from your skin. When you wince, he pauses immediately, waiting for your shoulders to relax before he continues. By the time he’s finished, your bottom lip is red from biting into it but the pain isn’t even noticeable, not when every nerve in your body seems focused on the warmth coming from his fingertips still lingering on your wrist.
“There,” he breathes through the softest smile, “all done.”
“Thanks,” and you can’t help but grin back.
“And see!” He’s beaming now. “You were very tough!”
Your laugh is brighter than the sun, more calming than the birds chirping overhead, a sound he can’t help but mirror. His desire to cheer you up, to comfort you through it all, makes your cheeks warm.
“I’m Suguru, by the way.”
He opens up easily to you, an honor you don’t quite understand yet. When you introduce yourself, he repeats your name back slowly, the vowels sweet like the flowers blooming nearby. It sounds good in his voice.
A whistle cuts through the humidity, immediately drawing Suguru’s attention.
“I gotta go,” his face draws into that adorable pout again.
“Oh.” Dropping your attention, it falls to your freshly healed hands resting in your lap. “Can you do me a favor?”
Expectant eyes meet yours.
“Promise me I’ll see you again?”
This time, he smiles so wide his cheeks push up into his eyes, crinkling at the corners. Holding out a hand, he gently grasps yours as he intertwines your fingers.
“Pinky promise,” he grins, linking them together with a shake.
Through a giggle, you mimic, “pinky promise.”
He shuffles off the bench, clumsy feet landing on the ground before he hobbles off to the waiting arms of a parent who seems to love him. Your heart aches for a moment before it stills - you’re happy he has someone to take care of him, to pull the splinters from his hands and clean off the scrapes on his knees.
It’s a miracle when you both get placed at Jujutsu Tech. It takes very little for you to abandon the place you called home, having jumped at the first chance to leave your childhood behind, but having Suguru there makes it even easier when you get approached by a strange man with dark hair and glasses who touts himself as the principal of some elusive school a few hours away. They’ll pay for your housing, your food, anything you need to survive for the next four years so long as you agree to train and work for them. It was an easy yes - you would have done more for less.
And of course, there was your so-called “power.” The two of you had danced around the subject for years, hesitantly testing each other’s experiences to not unload worry onto the other. That was the thing about Suguru - he was always looking out for you, and you, him. He never needed to ask if you were thirsty, he’d just bring you tea; you never had to ask if he was lonely, you’d just find him sitting alone on the same park bench.
It was Suguru who finally broke on his thirteenth birthday while the two of you made your way through town, snowflakes hanging in the air.
“Do you ever…see things?” he asked, shoving his hands deeper into the pockets of his jacket in a futile search for warmth.
From the corner of your vision, you caught the faintest glimmer of fear in his eyes. And you understood immediately.
“Yes.”
His shoulders visibly relaxed, hot breath puffing into the air. “Thank god,” he murmured.
Again, it wasn’t a surprise, per se - the two of you had shared everything. It only seemed natural that you would share this ability to see curses, the monsters hiding in the shadows.
“Do they ever…scare you?” Your voice felt small as you asked - you hadn’t yet reached relief, or at the very least, neutrality towards these things.
And he sees it in you, too - the dread he felt when he first saw them, the pang of terror that shoots up his spine when he catches one moving in the dark. He’s grown more accustomed to their presence, but there’s still that thread of fear lingering, choking him when he gets tangled in it.
“Yes.”
Cold fingers lace through yours, squeezing your hand reassuringly.
“But I’ll always keep you safe,” he smiles that sweet, soft smile, “pinky promise.”
The training wasn’t easy. You hadn’t expected it to be, obviously, but fuck was it hard.
Suguru excelled initially, as he did with everything. The others in your small class also show great potential, Satoru in particular, but Shoko’s abilities develop in her own way, too.
It’s nice to finally feel like you have a place where you belong, to have people to return to, people who care about you, who love you. It’s nice to be here, even if it pushes you to your limits everyday, because you know you’ll always have someone to come home to - to know you’ll always have Suguru to come home to.
It hits you on a sunny day in October when you’re watching him spar with Satoru. Fists fly, a mix of black and white flashing across the grass. When Gojo lands a particularly well-timed punch, Suguru’s body lands with a thud in the dirt.
You’re on your feet in less than a second, shoving Satoru out of the way as you stand over the dazed boy on the ground. He looks beautiful like this, you think - his hair splayed out around him, blood trickling from his nose, lips tugged into an awestruck smirk - before you shake the thought aside.
“Are you okay?”
Panicked hands run over his torso, checking for injuries before they land on his face. Cupping his jaw, he can’t help but breathe a laugh at the worry painted across your features. His palms come to rest along your wrists, dark eyes meeting yours.
“I’m okay,” he sighs. Now that you’re here. “I’m tough, remember?”
Every muscle in your body releases tension just at hearing his voice, his calming aura once again blanketing you, bringing you under the warmth of his peace.
With a playful punch to his shoulder, he feigns a dramatic wince. “Just don’t get hurt again, okay?”
He knows it’s impossible - it’s the nature of the job, of the responsibilities he holds. He will be hit and bruised and battered and brought to the brink of death again and again, but right now, that’s not what you need to hear. Because you know it’s impossible too; and you also know Suguru is strong.
“I pinky promise,” he halfheartedly grins. He promises to at least try. For you.
Wrapping your finger around his, you let the heat of your bodies fill the air, vibrating in tune with the cicadas lining the trees. His hand is soft in yours. It feels like coming home - the familiar walk up the steps, the paint on the front door cracking from where palms had rubbed against it time and time again as the handle turned. The wooden floors are worn in with the path you take through each other’s lives, from the kitchen to the living room to the windows, gazing over the backyard.
Suguru had a swingset, you remember. You figured out how to use it the first time you ever sat on the sun-worn rubber, going higher and higher and higher until the toes of your shoes scraped the sky. But Suguru always struggled - he couldn’t quite move his body in the right way to grant him flight. He would get frustrated with it rather easily, until your small hands rested against his back. With a firm push, you set him free into the air, his feet kicking perfectly with all the momentum a child’s body could hold.
Maybe gravity was discovered by children on the playground. There had to be a reason they couldn’t swing forever; there had to be a reason they couldn’t reach the sun.
The problem is, though, that a star’s heat dissipates with distance. It can’t always warm you, not when your feet land back on the ground.
Over the next year, Satoru began going on more missions alone, and Shoko stayed behind to hone her healing, leaving you and Suguru in the purgatory between power and nothingness. And most days, you feel closer to nothing.
It’s eating at him, you realize. The missions, the responsibility, the whole fucking thing is taking bites out of his soul with sharpened teeth and leaving nothing behind but a bloodied mess of torn expectations. It makes him smaller and smaller, pulling pieces of him until there’s nothing left.
You can see it in the way his clothes hang loose on his body. His shoulders slump forward, the shadows beneath his eyes growing darker each night he spends with his gaze locked on the ceiling.
The foundation of his soul is crumbling, the front door barricaded closed. The windows are boarded up. You can’t see your childhood anymore. All the grass in the front yard is dead.
You miss when the sun’s rays shone through him.
You miss when he was warm.
Finding him resting on one of the old benches in the school’s courtyard, it creaks beneath your weight as you sit, the only sound breaking the stagnant silence of the summer air. That’s another thing you’ve noticed - sometimes, Suguru is so quiet you aren’t even sure he exists. If you weren’t here watching his chest rise and fall, could you even prove he was breathing?
He says nothing when you rest your head on his shoulder, not that he needs to, of course. He hasn’t said much lately, mostly responding to everyone else’s overflowing conversations with empty smiles and sad eyes.
You aren’t sure how much longer you can take it.
“Suguru?”
His body doesn’t even shift in response to hearing his name, but you feel his eyes on you even though you can’t see them, your gaze instead focused on your hands resting in his lap. Picking at the skin along your nails, you continue.
“Are you okay?”
He’s grateful you can’t hear the way his heartbeat stutters (because then you’d already have the answer to your question).
“Mhm,” he hums, his lips never parting. You miss the way they used to curl into that childlike grin, it’s been so long since you’ve seen it.
You know he’s lying, but unfortunately, you want to believe him. You want to believe him so badly it feels like you’re trapped underground, buried under your love for him, banging on the floorboards overhead, but there’s no one around to hear. There’s dirt in your lungs and you can’t breathe. It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
Silently, you hold your hand in front of him, pinky raised in a question.
Would you promise?
On instinct, his own hand lifts from his side. It hovers just inches from yours, but he hesitates. The gap between them grows farther with each second they don’t intertwine, stars pushing one another apart, unable to collide. The steadiness in him wavers for a moment as you watch his fingers shake.
He can’t.
When he collapses into you, everything falls apart. Arms wrap around your frame, hands grabbing fistfuls of your uniform. He clings to you like a lifeline, the only thing keeping him from drowning. Because as a child, no one ever taught him how to swim - maybe they didn’t see the point in learning such a useless skill, or maybe they thought they were protecting him. But now, he’s been thrown into relentless waves of grief and with each breath more briney water fills his chest and he’s gasping and scared and he doesn’t know what to do except hold you. The tears falling from his eyes taste like the sea and they burn his throat, but at least for a moment his legs can stop kicking. For a moment, he has someone who can keep him afloat.
Your palms rub slow circles into his back as he cries. The sound is sharp and painful, carving into the still-beating flesh of your heart, but at least it exists. At least he’s here. At least he’s alive.
Placing your lips to the top of his head, you let them rest there as his body shakes.
“It’ll be okay, I’ve got you,” you whisper into his skin, surrounded by small strands of hair pulled loose and warm from the sun. “I promise.”
As things tend to do, they eventually get easier.
You and Suguru talk to the higher ups about changing his schedule, only going on missions with at least one other sorcerer so he’s not doing all the work by himself. They bargain and ultimately even agree to grant him dedicated days off to rest. And finally, you feel as though you’ve been granted your miracle, the scales of fate begrudgingly tipping in your favor.
(If all your pain meant that Suguru’s would be lessened for even a moment you would do it over again a million times. If all your suffering meant that Suguru wouldn’t have to endure it for a second longer, you would suffer for eternity.)
Even as fall returns and the sun shines through the sky less and less, things feel brighter. The two of you find yourselves in the school’s cafeteria making tea every night, and he learns he sleeps better with you in his arms.
When the four of you gather around a picnic table outside to recap your recent assignments, you tell some stupid joke, one that makes Satoru groan and Shoko roll her eyes through a smirk, and you hear it: Suguru laughs. And for a moment, the world stops spinning.
You all exchange glances before turning to face him, his cheeks pushed up and pink, eyes closed in bliss. You can’t contain yourselves as you join him, fits of giggles lilting through the crisp air.
That night, he welcomes you into bed with open arms waiting beneath the covers. His lips are curved into a grin as he places a gentle kiss to your forehead, a newer part of your routine, one that makes your entire body vibrate.
Snuggling against him, the warmth of his chest radiates into your skin, each beat of his heart a welcome melody.
“Hey Suguru?” you murmur.
His voice is laced with sleep as he answers into the darkness, “Yeah?”
“You’re really strong, y’know that?”
Letting out an airy chuckle, he rolls his eyes. “I’m nothing compared to Satoru-”
“You know that’s not what I mean.”
You can hear the air entering his lungs with each breath. He takes in three before he responds. “I know.”
Long fingers trace circles into the bare skin of your arm.
“Suguru?”
You know what you have to tell him - you’ve been holding it for years, keeping it close to you, carrying its weight through each day until you barely notice it anymore. Maybe it’s the change of the seasons, a different density to the air, but suddenly it has begun to feel heavy in your hands.
“Yeah?”
His hands make their way up your neck until they rest along your cheek, guiding your gaze to him through the dark.
Three breaths in, three breaths out.
“I love you.”
You can’t see him smile, but you feel it. The warmth of his palm leaves your face for a moment until you feel it again along your hand. He intertwines his pinky with yours. “I love you, too.”
545 notes · View notes
mrsfancyferrari · 2 months ago
Text
Love Sick
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Summary: You and Max have been together for a while and you knew he loved you but you didn't know to what extent.
Song: Infrunami - Steve Lacy
Author’s note: Please like, reblog and share this! <3
Word count: 6.8k
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You and Max had been in a loving relationship for quite some time, a bond that everyone around you could see.
Friends and family often remarked on the chemistry you shared, but there was a depth to Max's feelings that you had yet to fully grasp.
It was during a particularly chilly race weekend that everything changed.
You had been feeling under the weather, but your determination to support him pushed you to follow him into the paddock on Thursday, despite his insistence that you should rest at home.
"You should really take it easy," he had said, concern etched on his face. "I can’t race without you cheering me on, Max," you replied, a smile masking your discomfort.
As you stepped into the paddock, the cold air nipped at your skin, and you shivered slightly in your light dress while Max was comfortably clad in his team shirt. He noticed your discomfort almost immediately, his eyes softening with concern.
"You’re freezing!" he exclaimed, taking your hands in his.
The warmth of his palms enveloped your fingers as he rubbed them together, blowing gentle breaths of warm air onto them. The fans around you caught the tender moment on their cameras, and you could feel the flutter of butterflies in your chest.
"You always know how to make me feel better," you said, your voice barely above a whisper, but the sincerity in your words was unmistakable.
As you made your way to Red Bull's garage, Max was already thinking ahead. "Wait here," he instructed, darting off to find a blanket.
You watched him go, your heart swelling with affection. Moments later, he returned, a thick, cozy blanket in his arms. "Here, this should help," he said, wrapping it around you tightly.
You felt the warmth envelop you, and it was as if he was shielding you from the cold and the world outside.
"I can’t believe you came out here when you’re not feeling well," he said, his brow furrowing with concern. "I wouldn’t miss it for the world," you replied, looking into his eyes and realizing just how much he truly cared.
As he left for the press conference, you felt a surge of love for him, knowing that this moment was just a glimpse into the depths of his affection.
You settled into a nearby chair, the blanket cocooning you in warmth. You watched him walk away, his confident stride and focused demeanor a stark contrast to the tenderness he had just shown you.
It was moments like these that made you appreciate the layers of his personality—the fierce competitor on the track and the caring partner off it.
Time seemed to slip away as you drifted into a peaceful nap, the blanket enveloping you like a gentle hug. When Max returned, he paused at the sight of you sleeping soundly on the sofa. A smile crept across his face, but he hesitated, not wanting to disturb your rest.
“You look so peaceful,” he murmured to himself, deciding instead to join you. He settled down beside you, wrapping his arms around you, feeling the warmth radiate between you.
“I’ll just stay here until you wake up,” he whispered softly, his fingers gently brushing through your hair as he closed his eyes, content to simply be near you.
Eventually, you stirred, blinking against the soft light and feeling the comforting weight of Max beside you.
“Hey there, sleepyhead,” he greeted, his eyes sparkling with affection. “I didn’t want to wake you, but I missed you.”
You smiled, still a bit groggy, and he helped you sit up. “Let’s get you home,” he said, his tone shifting to one of care.
Once you arrived, he guided you to the bathroom. “A warm shower will do wonders,” he insisted.
The moment the warm water hit your skin, you felt an immediate sense of relief and relaxation. The heat seeped into your muscles, easing the tension and washing away the remnants of the cold you had braved earlier.
As the steam enveloped you, it was as if every drop was rejuvenating your spirit, leaving you feeling refreshed and comforted.
You closed your eyes, letting the water cascade over you, and your mind wandered back to the tender moments shared with Max. The warmth of the shower mirrored the warmth of his embrace, and you couldn't help but smile, feeling grateful for his unwavering support and love.
The day's worries seemed to melt away, replaced by a deep sense of contentment and appreciation for the life you were building together.
Meanwhile, Max busied himself in the kitchen, preparing a simple yet hearty meal to further soothe you after your long day. He set the table with care, ensuring everything was perfect for when you rejoined him.
As he heard the water turn off, he quickly finished up, eager to see the relaxed expression on your face.
“Max! You didn’t have to!” you exclaimed, stepping into the kitchen with a towel wrapped around your shoulders.
The delicious aroma wafting through the air made your stomach rumble, and you couldn't help but smile at the sight of his thoughtful preparation.
He turned to face you, a playful grin on his lips. “Nonsense, I wanted to,” he replied, pulling out a chair for you.
“You’ve had a long day, and it’s my turn to take care of you. Besides, I enjoy cooking for you.”
You sat down, touched by his gesture. “Thank you, Max. You always know how to make everything better,” you said sincerely, reaching out to squeeze his hand.
He leaned in and kissed your forehead, his eyes filled with affection. “That’s because you mean the world to me,” he whispered, making your heart swell with love as you both settled in to enjoy the meal together.
After you both settled into bed, you watched as he prepared for his sim training. “I’ll be right back,” he promised, leaning down to kiss your forehead.
“Get some more rest; I’ll join you soon.”
As he left, you felt a wave of gratitude wash over you, knowing that no matter how busy life got, he always made time for you. . . .
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As Friday dawned, a sense of relief washed over you, a welcome change from the heaviness of the previous days. You felt a spark of energy that was enough to persuade Max that you were fit to join him at the paddock.
With a playful grin, you rummaged through your wardrobe, finally settling on a chic yet comfortable outfit. You chose a fitted black tank top that accentuated your figure, paired with high-waisted denim shorts that offered both style and ease of movement.
To complete the look, you slipped on a pair of white sneakers, perfect for a day filled with excitement and activity. A light denim jacket hung loosely over your shoulders, ready to fend off any unexpected chill.
The atmosphere at the paddock was electric, buzzing with the anticipation of the day’s events. You knew it was going to be a whirlwind, but your heart swelled with pride knowing that Max would need your support as the day progressed.
As the engines roared to life and the cars zoomed past, you found yourself surrounded by the girls—Alex, Lily, and Rebecca—who were all too eager to share in the excitement.
They exchanged knowing glances and playful nudges, their laughter ringing out as they began to tease you about your relationship with Max. “You know he’s head over heels for you, right?” Alex chimed in, a mischievous glint in her eye.
You chuckled, rolling your eyes playfully at their antics. “Oh, come on! It’s not like that,” you replied, trying to sound nonchalant, but the warmth creeping into your cheeks betrayed your true feelings.
Lily leaned in closer, a smirk plastered on her face.
“Please, we all see the way he looks at you. It’s like you’re the only one in the room!” Rebecca added, her voice teasing yet sincere.
You couldn’t help but smile, feeling a mix of embarrassment and joy at their words. “Alright, alright! Maybe he does care a little,” you admitted, your heart fluttering at the thought.
The camaraderie among you and the girls made the day even more special, and as you cheered for Max from the sidelines, you felt a sense of belonging that made every moment worthwhile.
As Max stepped out of the car, the tension in the air was palpable. You were standing nearby, ready to offer him a comforting embrace, knowing all too well the challenges he faced with the troublesome vehicle.
The frustration of dealing with a poorly performing car weighed heavily on him, and you could see it etched on his face.
Without hesitation, you wrapped your arms around him, feeling the warmth of his body against yours.
"You did everything you could," you whispered softly into his shoulder, hoping to ease some of the burden he carried.
Max pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with a mixture of gratitude and exhaustion. "Thanks, schatje," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper, yet filled with sincerity.
The bond between you two was undeniable, forged through shared experiences and the ups and downs of racing life.
He took a deep breath, trying to shake off the disappointment, but you could sense that he was still grappling with the weight of the day.
"I need to go check on my performance before the second practice," he said, his brow furrowing as he turned to head towards the paddock.
As he walked away, you felt a familiar ache beginning to throb at your temples, a headache creeping in as the stress of the day settled over you. You leaned against the wall, watching him disappear into the chaos of the pit area, where engineers and mechanics buzzed around like bees.
The noise of the crowd and the whir of machinery filled the air, but your mind was elsewhere, replaying the moments of the day.
You knew that racing was a relentless pursuit, filled with highs and lows, and you wished you could shield him from the pressures that came with it.
With a sigh, you closed your eyes for a moment, hoping that the next practice would bring better results for Max, and that the headache would soon fade away.
As the sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over the practice field, Max stood by the sidelines, his eyes scanning the area for you.
The second practice of the day was about to commence, and the excitement in the air was palpable. Just as the engineers were perfecting his car, Max waved you over with an eager grin.
You could see the determination in his eyes, but there was something else there too—a hint of mischief that made your heart flutter.
"Hey, can you give me a kiss before I head out?" he asked, his voice playful yet sincere.
You felt a pang of hesitation as you remembered the cold that had settled in your chest. "Max, I'm really not feeling well. I could pass this on to you, and I wouldn’t want to ruin your day," you replied, trying to sound as convincing as possible.
But Max just shook his head, his expression unwavering. "I’d rather get sick than miss out on your kiss. Besides, that’s not how your good luck charm works," he insisted, a teasing lilt in his voice that made it hard to resist.
You couldn’t help but chuckle at his stubbornness, even as you felt a wave of affection wash over you. "You know, you’re going to regret this if you end up with a sore throat," you warned, crossing your arms playfully.
Max stepped closer, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "I’ll take my chances. Just one kiss, and I promise I’ll be back to my usual self in no time," he said, leaning in slightly, his confidence infectious.
With a resigned smile, you gave in, your resolve crumbling under Max's unwavering gaze.
Leaning forward, you pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, feeling the warmth and familiarity that always seemed to erase your worries, if only for a moment.
His lips lingered on yours, and as you pulled away, you noticed the sparkle in his eyes had intensified, a mix of determination and pure joy.
"See? I feel better already," Max said with a wink, his grin broadening. You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head at his boundless optimism.
"Now go out there and show them what you're made of," you encouraged, giving him a playful shove towards the car.
As he jogged off, you watched him with a renewed sense of hope, the cold in your chest momentarily forgotten, replaced by the warmth of his love and the promise of better times ahead.
The familiar sound of his vehicle echoed in your ears, but instead of feeling a sense of relief, a dull ache began to throb at your temples. You rubbed your forehead gently, hoping to ease the discomfort, but the tension only seemed to intensify.
You glanced around, noticing the bustling crowd around you, but the thought of sharing your discomfort with anyone felt unnecessary.
After all, everyone seemed preoccupied with their own lives, and you didn’t want to burden them with your headache.
Max had a knack for turning moments into memories, and today was no exception. After securing P1 in the second practice, he bounded out of the car with an infectious energy that made your heart race.
As he approached you, a playful grin spread across his face, and without hesitation, he leaned in to plant a kiss on your lips. "See? I told you it works," he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
You couldn’t help but smile back, feeling a warmth that momentarily chased away the headache that had been nagging at you all day.
"Okay, Max," you replied, your voice light despite the discomfort. The thrill of his victory was palpable, and you wanted to share in that joy, even if it meant masking your own growing unease.
However, the celebration was short-lived as Max was soon swept away by a flurry of media obligations.
You watched him engage with reporters, his charisma shining through as he answered questions and posed for photos. Each laugh and smile he shared with the cameras felt like a reminder of the energy you were lacking.
As the minutes ticked by, your headache intensified, a dull throb that seemed to echo the excitement around you. You tried to focus on the moment, but the growing discomfort made it increasingly difficult.
Finally, once the media duties were done, you both headed home, the car ride filled with a comfortable silence that allowed you to gather your thoughts, even as you felt the weight of your fatigue pressing down on you.
Once you arrived home, the first thing you did was rush to the bathroom to grab the thermometer. You needed to know just how bad it was. As you waited for the reading, you felt a mix of anxiety and relief when it showed a high temperature, but thankfully, it wasn’t high enough to warrant a trip to the hospital.
You decided to keep this information to yourself, not wanting to distract Max from his focus on the qualifying race tomorrow.
Just as you were trying to shake off the worry, you heard his voice call out from the kitchen, "Schatje! I made you some food!" The smell wafting through the air was enticing, but you knew you wouldn’t be able to eat.
"Umm, Max, I don’t feel hungry," you replied, hoping he wouldn’t press the issue.
He appeared in the doorway, concern etched on his face. "But you hardly ate anything today. Are you okay?" he asked, his brow furrowing.
"I’m fine, really," you insisted, forcing a smile. "Just a bit tired from all the excitement today. I think I just need some rest."
You hoped he would accept your answer and let it go, but the worry in his eyes told you he wasn’t convinced.
"Are you sure?" he pressed, stepping closer and reaching out to touch your forehead. "You’re a bit warm. Maybe you should see a doctor."
You shook your head gently, trying to reassure him. "It’s nothing serious, Max. Probably just a minor bug. I’ll be alright after a good night’s sleep. You need to focus on tomorrow’s race; I’ll be cheering you on from bed if I have to."
Max sighed but didn’t push further. "Alright, but promise me you'll let me know if it gets worse," he said, his voice laced with concern.
You nodded, appreciating his worry but not wanting to add to his stress. "I promise," you replied softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.
He lingered for a moment, his eyes searching yours as if trying to gauge your honesty. Finally, he seemed to accept your words and gave a small nod.
"I'll leave the food here in case you change your mind," he said, placing the plate on the table next to you. "And if you need anything, just call for me, okay?"
You watched him return to the kitchen, feeling a pang of guilt for not being entirely truthful about your condition. As much as you wanted to be strong for him, the fatigue was overwhelming.
You settled into bed, pulling the covers around you tightly, hoping that sleep would come quickly and wash away the day's worries. . . .
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Saturday dawned with an unwelcome chill that seeped into your bones, leaving you shivering under the covers. As you reluctantly peeled back the sheets, a wave of discomfort washed over you, manifesting as a relentless headache and muscle aches that felt like a freight train had run over you.
The loss of appetite was particularly disheartening; the thought of food made your stomach churn, and irritability simmered just beneath the surface.
You could feel the weight of the day pressing down on you, and it took every ounce of persuasion to convince Max that you should accompany him to the paddock.
“I promise I’ll be fine,” you insisted, forcing a smile as you pushed through the nausea that threatened to overwhelm you.
Even the breakfast he prepared, which usually brought you joy, felt like a monumental task, but you managed to eat a few bites without revealing the turmoil inside.
After a long internal debate, you settled on a cozy outfit that would keep you warm despite the chill in the air. You slipped into a thick, oversized sweater that enveloped you like a comforting hug, its soft fabric soothing against your skin.
Paired with snug leggings and your favorite pair of fuzzy socks, you felt a little more at ease, even if the discomfort lingered. To top it off, you wrapped a stylish scarf around your neck, its vibrant colors a stark contrast to your pallor.
As you walked into the paddock alongside Max, you made a conscious effort to maintain a cheerful demeanor, your smile brightening your face even as your body protested.
“You look great today,” Max said, glancing at you with a mix of concern and admiration. “Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” You nodded, determined to keep the façade intact.
Just before Max climbed into his car for qualifying, you leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips, a moment of warmth that momentarily distracted you from your discomfort.
“Good luck out there! I know you’ll do amazing,” you encouraged, your voice steady despite the turmoil brewing inside.
As he smiled back, a flicker of pride in his eyes, you felt a rush of affection for him. But as soon as he drove off, the reality of your condition hit hard.
You rushed to the nearest bathroom, the world around you blurring as you barely made it in time to throw up.
“Why today of all days?” you muttered to yourself, feeling defeated. The vibrant atmosphere of the paddock faded into the background.
The thought of Max finding out gnawed at you as you leaned against the cool tile wall for support. You knew he would be worried sick, probably insisting you see a doctor immediately and potentially even jeopardizing his focus for the race.
The last thing you wanted was to be the cause of any distraction or stress for him on such an important day.
You took a deep breath, willing yourself to regain composure. "I can handle this," you whispered, splashing cold water on your face and rinsing your mouth.
You stared at your reflection, determined not to let this moment define the day. After tidying yourself up, you smoothed down your sweater and adjusted your scarf, hoping to erase any signs of your recent struggle.
With a final, resolute nod, you stepped out of the bathroom, the bustling noise of the paddock washing over you once more.
As you made your way to meet the girls, you plastered a smile on your face, determined to keep the mood light and positive.
They greeted you with enthusiasm, their energy a welcome distraction from your internal battle. You joined their lively conversation, laughing at their jokes and sharing in their excitement for the event.
Though the discomfort lingered, you felt a renewed sense of resolve; you were determined to be strong for Max and for yourself, no matter what.
You kept yourself busy and distracted until Max was finished with his racing duties by immersing yourself in the various activities around the paddock.
You visited the merchandise stalls, chatted with other fans, and even took some time to explore the behind-the-scenes areas.
Every now and then, you would check your phone for updates on Max's progress, your heart racing with each notification.
When the race finally ended, you made your way to the team's garage, your nerves a mix of excitement and lingering unease.
Max emerged, covered in sweat but grinning from ear to ear, his performance clearly a success. You rushed to congratulate him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace.
"You were incredible out there!" you exclaimed, pushing aside your own discomfort for the moment.
Max, full of adrenaline and joy, kissed you deeply and whispered, "Couldn't have done it without you."
His words melted your heart, and for a moment, the world around you faded away. "I was so worried," you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. "But seeing you out there, giving it your all, it reminded me why we do this. It’s all worth it."
Max pulled back slightly, looking into your eyes with a seriousness that belied his earlier joy.
"I know it’s tough, but having you here means everything to me. You’re my rock, and knowing you’re cheering me on gives me the strength to push harder."
"Thanks, Max," you smiled, kissing him again. "But promise me you'll always be careful out there. I worry about you more than you know."
Max nodded, his expression softening. "I promise. Your support means the world to me, and I don’t want to ever let you down. Just knowing you're here, it keeps me grounded and focused."
Max finished quickly enough with his media duties, and soon the two of you were heading home. The drive was quiet but comfortable, each of you lost in your thoughts.
The adrenaline from the race still buzzed in Max's veins, while you reflected on the whirlwind of emotions you had experienced throughout the day.
As the city lights blurred past the car windows, you reached over and squeezed Max’s hand, silently conveying your support and love.
Once you arrived home, the exhaustion from the day's events began to set in. Max headed for a quick shower while you prepared a light dinner, the comforting routine of home life easing the lingering tension.
Sitting down to eat, you both shared the highlights of the day, laughing about the little moments that stood out.
Despite the challenges, you felt a sense of contentment, knowing that you could face anything as long as you were together.
But amidst the laughter and conversation, you couldn't ignore the dull, persistent pain in your head. It had been creeping up on you throughout the day, but you'd pushed it aside, focusing on Max and his triumph.
Now, in the quiet of your home, it was harder to ignore. You rubbed your temples, trying to alleviate the discomfort without drawing attention to it.
Max noticed your subtle wince and reached across the table, concern etched on his face. "Are you okay?" he asked softly.
You forced a smile and nodded, not wanting to dampen his spirits. "Just a headache," you replied, hoping it would pass soon. Max squeezed your hand reassuringly.
"Why don't you rest? I'll take care of everything tonight," he suggested.
Grateful for his understanding, you agreed, hoping that a good night's sleep would finally chase away the pain. . . .
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Sunday dawned with a heavy sense of malaise, the worst of the four days you had been feeling under the weather. Despite the fatigue weighing down your limbs and the persistent ache in your head, the allure of the Grand Prix was too strong to resist.
You were determined to be there, to stand by Max’s side as he raced, cheering him on with every ounce of energy you could muster.
The sun peeked through the clouds, casting a warm glow that made you feel slightly better, prompting you to choose a light outfit that would keep you comfortable throughout the day.
You slipped into a breezy white sundress that danced around your knees, paired with a denim jacket that added a touch of casual flair. The outfit was completed with your favorite sneakers, perfect for navigating the bustling paddock.
As you and Max prepared for the day ahead, you could sense his concern. “Are you sure you’re up for this?” he asked, his brow furrowed with worry.
You flashed him a reassuring smile, determined to mask your discomfort. “I’m fine, really! Just a little tired. I think I’ll grab something to eat in the hospitality room later,” you replied, hoping to deflect his attention.
The truth was, you had no intention of eating; the thought of food made your stomach churn. You just wanted to be there for him, to soak in the atmosphere and support him as he took on the challenges of the race.
Max nodded, though you could tell he wasn’t entirely convinced. “Alright, but if you need anything, just let me know,” he said, his voice laced with concern.
With a quick kiss on his cheek, you left Max to focus on the data and the car, knowing he needed to concentrate.
As you wandered through the paddock, the excitement of the day began to lift your spirits. The sounds of engines revving and the chatter of the team filled the air, creating an electric atmosphere that was hard to resist.
You spotted a few familiar faces and exchanged greetings, all while keeping your energy up with the adrenaline of the event.
Even though you were battling your own discomfort, the thrill of the Grand Prix and the chance to support Max made it all worthwhile. You were determined to be his biggest cheerleader, no matter how you felt inside.
You leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss on his lips, wishing him all the luck in the world before he sped off to the starting line. The roar of engines and the cheers of the crowd filled the air, but your mind was elsewhere, tangled in a web of anxiety and pain.
You decided to immerse yourself in the excitement of the race, hoping that the adrenaline of the event would distract you from the turmoil brewing inside.
"Just focus on the race," you whispered to yourself, trying to drown out the nagging thoughts that threatened to overwhelm you.
As the laps dwindled down and the finish line approached, you could feel the weight of your discomfort intensifying. The vibrant atmosphere that once thrilled you now felt suffocating, and the cheers of the crowd morphed into a cacophony that only heightened your unease.
"I can't do this," you muttered under your breath, glancing around at the sea of faces, all caught up in the excitement.
With a heavy heart, you made the decision to escape the throng of spectators and seek solace in Max's driver’s room. The thought of being alone with your thoughts was daunting, but the idea of staying in the crowd felt unbearable.
As you navigated through the bustling crowd, a wave of dizziness washed over you, and the world around you began to spin.
You stumbled slightly, clutching your head as you fought to maintain your balance. "I need to sit down," you gasped, feeling lightheaded and weak.
In a moment of desperation, you pulled out your phone and quickly typed a message to a friend who could help.
Help me please
You sent, your fingers trembling as you pressed send.
Just as you turned to make your way to safety, the room tilted dangerously, and you felt yourself slipping into darkness, the last thing you heard was the distant roar of the crowd fading away. . . .
Alexandra was caught up in the excitement of the race, her heart swelling with pride as she cheered for her boyfriend, who had just crossed the finish line in a commendable second place.
The crowd erupted in applause, but amidst the celebration, she finally glanced at her phone, her heart dropping as she read your urgent message.
"Oh no, what happened?" she muttered under her breath, her eyes darting through the throng of spectators. She quickly navigated her way through the sea of bodies, her heart racing not just from the thrill of the race but from the growing concern for you.
As she checked the map on her phone, she cursed herself for not being more attentive. "Ten minutes ago? Why didn’t I check sooner?" she thought, panic rising in her chest.
The message had been clear, a cry for help that she had missed in the excitement of the moment.
She also knew that your boyfriend wasn't going to take the news lightly, winning today's grand prix or not. He had always been fiercely protective of you, and knowing that you were in distress would undoubtedly overshadow his hard-earned victory.
Alexandra quickened her pace, anxiety gnawing at her as she hoped to find you safe and sound. The celebration, the cheers, and the victory now seemed like distant echoes compared to the urgency of locating you.
Racing through the crowd, she could almost feel the weight of your boyfriend’s impending reaction.
She knew he’d drop everything to be by your side, and the thought of seeing his worried face spurred her on even more.
As she approached the driver's room, her heart pounded in her chest, both from the exertion and the fear of what she might find. "Please be okay," she whispered to herself, pushing open the door and scanning the room frantically. . . .
Max, meanwhile, was reveling in his recent triumph, completing laps around the track with a sense of elation that only victory could bring. The cheers of the crowd echoed in his ears, but that joy was abruptly interrupted by a crackling voice over the radio.
"Max, I hate to break your celebration, but we have a situation with Y/N," the voice said, laced with concern. Max's heart raced as he slowed his pace, his mind racing with worry.
"What’s going on?" he asked, his brow furrowing as he made his way toward the podium, where the top three racers were set to be honored.
The thought of anything happening to you sent a chill down his spine, and he could feel the adrenaline shifting from the thrill of victory to a deep-seated anxiety.
"Someone will be waiting to take you to the infirmary as soon as you get out of the car," the voice continued, and Max's stomach dropped.
"Infirmary? What do you mean? Is Y/N okay?" he pressed, urgency lacing his tone.
The radio crackled again, but all he could think about was you, hoping you were alright. As he reached the podium, the cheers of the crowd faded into the background, replaced by a singular focus on getting to you as quickly as possible.
The celebration felt distant now; all that mattered was ensuring your safety.
He could barely hear the announcer calling his name, the accolades and applause blurring into a haze as he focused solely on getting to you as quickly as possible.
The moment he brought the car to a halt, a sense of urgency surged through him. He dashed toward the infirmary, his familiarity with the winding corridors and the scent of antiseptic guiding his hurried steps.
Today was supposed to be a day of celebration, a podium ceremony that he had anticipated for days but instead, his heart raced with concern for you.
He never imagined that he would find himself rushing to the infirmary under such distressing circumstances, especially not because of you.
As he pushed open the door, the sight that greeted him was both alarming and heart-wrenching. There you were, sitting on the edge of a hospital bed, looking pale and disoriented, an ice pack pressed against your forehead.
Alexandra was by your side, her grip firm around your hand, her expression a mix of worry and relief. The moment their eyes met, Alexandra's face lit up with a glimmer of hope.
"Thank goodness you're here!" she exclaimed, her voice trembling slightly.
"Has the podium ceremony ended?" she asked, her concern for you momentarily overshadowing the event they had both been looking forward to.
He shook his head, his focus solely on you. "That doesn't matter right now. What happened?" he pressed, his voice steady but laced with urgency.
Alexandra took a deep breath, her eyes darting between him and you. "She was unconscious when I found her in your driver's room," she explained, her voice barely above a whisper.
The weight of her words hung in the air, and he felt a knot tighten in his stomach. "Unconscious? How long was she out?" he asked, his heart racing as he moved closer to you, desperate to see you recover.
Alexandra's eyes filled with concern as she replied, "Around 15 minutes, but it felt like an eternity."
He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from your face, determined to be there for you in this moment of vulnerability.
The doctor leaned against the doorframe, his expression serious as he relayed the news.
"She collapsed earlier today, and the primary reason appears to be a high fever. Did you notice any symptoms before this happened?" he inquired, his gaze shifting to him with an intensity that made him squirm.
"No, I didn’t see anything out of the ordinary," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. The weight of guilt settled heavily on his shoulders, a suffocating reminder of the moments he had overlooked.
He replayed the last few days in his mind, recalling how you had seemed a bit off during their meals together. He should have insisted you see a doctor, should have been more vigilant, but instead, he had brushed it off, thinking it was just fatigue.
"Max?" The soft voice broke through his thoughts, and he looked up to see your eyes fluttering open.
Relief washed over him, but it was quickly overshadowed by the nagging feeling of regret. "I didn’t realize you were awake," he admitted, his heart racing as he took in your pale complexion.
You offered a weak smile, but it did little to ease the turmoil inside him.
Just then, Alexandra stood up from her seat, her presence a welcome distraction. "I’ll go inform the team about your condition," she said, her tone warm.
"Thanks, Alex," he replied, his eyes still fixed on you, unwilling to look away even for a moment. He wanted to be there for you, to make sure you knew you weren't alone in this.
As Alexandra stepped out, the silence in the room felt heavy, punctuated only by the soft beeping of the machines around them. He leaned closer, his voice low and filled with concern.
"You scared me back there. I should have noticed something was wrong," he confessed, his heart aching with the weight of his unspoken fears.
You reached out, your fingers brushing against his hand, a small gesture that spoke volumes.
"It’s okay, Max. I didn’t realize it either," you reassured him, your voice soft but steady.
He could see the strength in your eyes, a flicker of resilience that made him admire you even more.
In that moment, he vowed to never let his guard down again, to always be attentive to the signs, no matter how subtle they might be.
"Did you win?" you inquired, your curiosity evident in your tone.
Max's face lit up with a grin as he replied, "Absolutely, schatje, I won just for you."
Your gaze drifted down to his chest, where you noticed the absence of a medal that should have been proudly displayed.
A sense of unease crept in as you asked, "You didn’t attend the medal ceremony, did you?" The moment the words left your lips, you could see the color drain from his face, and beads of sweat began to form on his brow.
"You were far too important to me! I had to find out why you were in the infirmary," Max stammered, his voice tinged with a mix of anxiety and determination. You could tell he was trying to justify his decision, but the weight of his choice hung heavily in the air.
"Max, you realize you could face a fine for skipping out on the ceremony, right?" you pressed, your concern for him mingling with frustration.
He shook his head defiantly, his eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that made your heart race. "I don’t care about that! Knowing you’re okay is worth more than any medal or ceremony," he declared, his stubbornness shining through.
You let out a sigh, a blend of exasperation and affection swirling within you. "You really need to take care of yourself too, you know," you said softly, your voice barely above a whisper.
Max stepped closer, his expression softening as he reached out to take your hand.
"I promise, I’ll make it up to you. Just seeing you here, safe and sound, is the only victory I need," he replied earnestly.
The warmth of his grip enveloped you, and in that moment, the world outside faded away, leaving just the two of you and the unspoken bond that tied your hearts together.
"You mean everything to me; I’d choose you every time," he murmured, and at that moment, the world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the bond forged through both sacrifice and a shared understanding.
As the tension in the room began to ease, you reached out, your fingers brushing against his. The connection sparked something deeper, and without thinking, you leaned in and shared a soft kiss.
It was a moment that transcended the worries of the world outside, a promise that you were both in this together.
"I am kind of glad you came," you whispered against his lips, feeling the warmth of his presence envelop you.
Max smiled, his expression softening as he replied, "I’ll always be here for you, no matter what."
As the moment hung in the air, you felt the warmth of Max's lips against yours, a spark igniting between you. He leaned in closer, his hands exploring the contours of your body, sending shivers down your spine.
The kiss deepened, becoming more passionate, as if the world around you faded away, leaving just the two of you in this intimate bubble.
It was a moment that felt both exhilarating and electric, a perfect blend of desire and connection that made your heart race.
Suddenly, the reality of the situation broke through the haze of your emotions. You pulled back slightly, a playful smile dancing on your lips as you looked into Max's eyes.
"Alright, enough of that! You need to go get your trophy, or else you might end up starting something you can't stop!" you teased, giving him a gentle push away.
The playful banter was a familiar rhythm between you, a dance of flirtation that always left you both wanting more.
Max chuckled, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he took a step back, clearly reluctant to leave the moment behind.
"See you after, schatje!" he called out, a wide grin spreading across his face as he made his way to the door. The way he said your name sent a thrill through you, and you couldn't help but feel a rush of excitement at the thought of what was to come.
As he opened the door, you watched him go, your heart still racing from the kiss.
You knew that this was just the beginning of an adventure that would unfold in the hours to come, filled with laughter, challenges, and perhaps even more stolen moments like the one you just shared. . . .
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zhenne · 25 days ago
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watching from afar | route one : a confrontation
[ intro ]
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syn. perhaps it’s time Sylus gives you irrefutable proof of his intentions, and to show you he’s more dependable than that doctor friend of yours thinks.
wc. 3.5k
warnings. smut!! (mdni), i’m gonna just say dubcon bc yea, probably ooc, rough start (i don’t like it tbh), jealousy!, mentions of alcohol, car sex, pet names (sweetie, sweetheart, kitten, baby), cowgirl, clothed sex, bit of dry humping, fingering, making out, sylus comes on your stomach/thighs, he’s a lil nasty (as a treat), teensy bit of begging, face & throat holding (no choking), marking
a/n. ngl i feel like this is pretty rushed, but idk man
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now playing : all mine
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“I’ll be back soon, have fun.” 
With one final measuring glance at the doctor, Sylus left you in Zayne’s care.
Zayne was a pleasant companion for the remainder of the evening. His dry humor and effortless wit kept your voice breathless with hushed fits of laughter. You were nursing your fourth drink of the evening when you notice Zayne’s relaxed posture shift as an undeniable presence calmly stepped behind you.
Cheerful, and a little tipsy, you turn on your barstool to face Sylus. With warm, rosy cheeks, you beam up at him, ready to explain the comical story Zayne had just finished, “Oh! Sylus, Sylus- you won’t believe-”
“I’m sorry to interrupt your fun, but we’re leaving, Sweetheart.” His firm tone cuts you off. 
You sit up a little bit straighter, brows pinched together, “Did the meeting not go well?”
Sylus’ eyes narrow, looking right past you as they land on the man sat a little too close to you for his liking. Crimson irises flick back to you, studying your slightly flushed appearance. “We can talk in the car.”
Immediately, you knew what that decisive, low utterance dispatched. He was pissed. Seething.
Sliding off your chair, you turn to give Zayne a small bow, smiling as you thank him, “Your company was refreshing, thank you for treating me with your presence.”
—-
The walk to the car was painfully silent. Any tipsy glee you had earlier was gone, replaced by a sobering disquiet. You kept your hands clasped tightly in front of you as you followed just behind Sylus’ striding gait, your own heeled feet barely able to keep up. Your lips were pressed into a thin line. Sylus’ aura radiated quiet fury and your mind careened with thoughts of what must’ve happened during his meeting. 
Did the other man not show up? Maybe he sent a representative Sylus had a previous resentment with? Or did the deal fall through, perhaps? Is it likely that the terms didn’t go in Sylus’ favor-
You’re pulled from your thoughts by your face colliding with a solid wall of muscle. You swallow. The black suit jacket on Sylus’ back obscures your vision, the musk of his cologne invading your senses. He turns to face you, angling his head so that it tilted in a manner that could only be described as penetrative. You wait for him to say something, anything that could hint at the cause of his calloused mood. You get nothing of the sort as he opens the passenger door for you.
To your surprise, he doesn’t slam it after you climb into the seat. If anything, he’s unnervingly silent. There’s something controlled, measured about this anger. And that finding only serves to confound you even more.
You wait until the car is speeding down the freeway to try your luck again. “Wha-”
“Did you have fun?” For an innocent question to be asked in such a forbidding tone, a chill tickles your nape. 
Your fingers nervously pinch the material of your dress, rolling the silk between the pads of your fingertips. Was he upset you didn’t go to the meeting with him? “You know I’m more of a hindrance than a help in those sort of mee-”
“That’s not what I’m asking. Did you have fun with your friend?”
Oh. A piece of this intricate puzzle clicks into your brain. Oh. “You’re jealous.” You don’t even realize you whispered your discovery aloud. 
Sylus chuckles, though it’s void of his usual mirth. “And what was it you introduced me as?...” His eyes narrowed in thought as the car merged onto the road that would take you back to the lawless city of perpetual darkness. “Your colleague, wasn’t it?” You don’t miss the way his jaw clenches. 
There’s a beat of silence, and then, in a moment of brazen stupidity, you mutter, “Is there a problem with my terminology?” Your own challenge, albeit your voice came out far too hesitant to be properly deemed a threat.
The way he looks at you, every ounce of his stare cold and measured, reminded you of your first meeting – reminded you that there was more than one side to the enigma that is the leader of Onychinus. Instantly, you feel regret weighing heavy on your tongue. You want to backpedal, try again at defending yourself.
You don’t get the chance to scramble together some poor excuse before he’s steering the car into the underground garage of a vacant lot. The transmission shifts into parked and the keys are pulled from the ignition as you and Sylus sit in the silent cab of the car, your eyes searching his side profile. The silence is stifling.
“Are you going to talk to me, or just sulk?” You finally murmur with a growing irritation. 
Sylus’ head falls back against the headrest. Finally, his gaze slides to you, the corners of his lips twitch with a frown, and you feel the edges of your frustration slowly ebb away. 
“What did you two discuss during my absence?”
“Hm? Nothing, really..” You hesitate. Sure, Zayne may have asked how you met the enigma that is Sylus, and you may have given a few glossed-over fabrications. And yeah, maybe your childhood friend revealed in passing that perhaps Sylus may not be the best influence, but that would constitute ‘nothing’, right? 
Sylus is nothing if not perceptive. He picks up on your hesitation clear as day. “What did he say?” His voice finds its usual timbre, a gravelly rumble that stirred something within you.
You were backed into a corner, tongue tied as Sylus’ situated his elbow atop the console, his face leaning into your space with acute attention. “Tell me, kitten,” … “Is this ‘Doctor Zayne’ of yours really just your doctor? Because I saw a hint of something that wanted to tell me otherwise.”
Your face warms at the insinuation in Sylus’ perceptive eyes, caught off guard by the sudden accusation. “I.. I mean, we grew up together, but- but it’s not- he wouldn’t-” you take a steadying breath, a futile attempt to quell your rapid heart rate. “Me and Zayne? I-It just doesn’t make any sense-”
“Oh no, I see it – the appeal,” he reaffirms, “he is handsome, well-established, smart.. And seems to care an awful lot..” he trails off, his smirk only growing as your brows pinch together at the open-ended insinuation. 
“But he never has time for you, does he? Dedication to one’s work means less attention to those that really matter.” You’re silent, face hot as you hold your breath, Sylus’ smirk only growing when he sees you ensnared in his provoking web. “You should call me when your ‘friend’ is too occupied to make time for you. I can at least promise not to leave such a pretty girl disappointed.” 
The air in the car feels stifling as you gape up at Sylus, his eyes now shining with a dark gleam. His hand slips into your space, brushing a strand of hair from your cheek before his palm cradles your jaw, forcing you to hold his gaze as he angles his face a breath away from yours. 
Finally, you manage to choke out a whispered retort. “Zayne.. Zayne doesn’t see me like that. He’s just a friend-”
“Just a friend?” He rolls his eyes at your empty logic. “Oh, please.” He practically hums. “He’s so obvious. You’re telling me you didn’t see the way he admired you tonight? Didn’t notice how his eyes practically undressed you, how his hands twitched with the desire to lay claim?” His voice drops an octave, the low rumble of his chest purely seductive as he murmurs, “How he wishes it was his bedroom floor your dress falls to?” You watch with a pulsing heart as Sylus’ eyes flit to your slightly parted lips, the corners of his mouth twitching into a proud smirk at your undoubtedly flustered expression. “I also saw the way those same eyes glared at me, resenting me for taking the one thing he wanted most.”
There’s a self-imposed reticence. You’re frozen in your seat.
“Nothing to say?” He blinks down at you when you fail to form a coherent thought, the cockiness in his tone only making you dizzier. “Perhaps you wanted that too?”
At that, you’re able to manage a weak shake of your head, and it only makes Sylus’ wicked grin grow. “Tell me this at least, are we really just ‘colleagues’ in your eyes?”
You lick your lips, head spinning when you finally let out a shaky breath. “I-.. We…” You feel as though surges of energy are rippling beneath your skin, setting your nerves alight and subsequently frying any semblance of intelligible logic. 
A calloused thumb trails down your jaw before gently grasping your chin, forcing your face up so your lips just barely brushed against his as he whispers, “Just know, regardless of what you say, I’ll still fuck you.” 
Swelling heat thrummed through your veins, catching in your breath and erupting in your stomach. Your thighs squeeze together with a rush of embarrassment as you feel a slick pool of heat stain the thin material of your panties, no doubt soaking through to the seat below. 
Zayne’s words from earlier ring in your deluded mind as Sylus slips a warm hand atop your thigh. ‘Please, be careful with who you trust’, the doctor had muttered in his stoic voice, ‘I wouldn’t want someone corrupting Linkon’s favorite Hunter’. 
You can already picture Zayne’s disappointment, but Sylus tastes like expensive whiskey and tobacco.
It’s possessive, the way Sylus kisses you, like he was afraid you’d slip away should his hands leave you. You shift in your seat as his tongue prods at the seam of your lips. A breathy groan has your cunt fluttering around nothing as he licks his tongue into your mouth, the hand on your jaw cupping your cheek to hold you still. Neither of you shy away as it grows messier, needier. And it’s unbearably hot, the way he grips your thigh, pushing the skirt of your dress up to bunch around your hips. He doesn’t pause the assault on your lips as his fingers tentatively brush over your soaked panties, the thin material made sheer as it clings to your folds. 
Sylus breaks the kiss, chest softly heaving as he looks down at you, his eyes glazed with raw desire. He lets out a low growl, accompanied by the slick click of his fingertip teasing your arousal. "God, Sweetheart..." He murmurs, his voice thick with lust.
Without warning, he’s pulling you over the console, your knees bracketing his hips. His hands roam over your body, tracing the curves of your breast and the dip of your waist before settling on your thighs, spreading them apart to grant himself full access to your cunt.
"Let's see how responsive you are to a real man's touch." He teases, grinding his cock into your slick folds through his slacks. 
Your hand grips his shoulder, desperate for something to stabilize you as the rough material of his pants brush agonizingly perfect against your throbbing clit. “F-Fuck..” you whimper as your other hand gathers your dress, giving both you and Sylus unobstructed view of the lewd performance. It felt sinfully good, as pathetic as it might sound, to be dry humping your (so-called) friend in his car like a couple of horny teenagers. 
This position offered you a front row seat to the debauched expression coloring Sylus’ usually smug face, a sight that only served to fuel your growing desire. He must've felt your peering eyes on him, because not even a moment later, a hand holds your throat, pulling you down for another hungry kiss. This one had no preamble, only a primal mesh of heat and tongue. You whine when he pulls away in favor of trailing searing kisses down the side of your neck, teeth occasionally nipping at the skin before he sucks a mark in the junction of your shoulder. 
You grind your hips downard, circling the hardening bulge in his pants with a breathy gasp, your hand tracing down the muscled panes of his stomach. Eyes roll back into your head when Sylus bucks up into your heat with a chuckle. He parts from your neck, his lips shining with spit as he takes in your disheveled appearance. 
“Would you rather it be your doctor friend making you feel like this?” 
A challenge? A jealous provocation? You aren’t quite sure what fuels it, but you’re unabashed as you whimper, “No.. No.”
Sylus wets his lips, the palm on your throat now holding your face millimeters from his, “Who do you want to fuck you? Whose cock do you want to stretch out your little cunt right now?”
You can barely look at him straight with the way those filthy words slipped so effortlessly from his mouth. “Y-You..” you choke out. “Want your cock, Sy..”
Your eyes blink shut, missing the smug grin that graced Sylus’ reddening features. You're about to drag your hips along the seam of his slacks again when a firm hold on your hips halts you halfway. You’re panting, watching with a lidded gaze as he pulls his cock, red and leaking from his pants. Your mouth nearly waters at the sight of the vein running down the twitching length. 
Your hand begins to reach out, but a larger one gently smacks it away. You find his crimson eyes, your pulse echoing loudly in your ears as the hands on your hips angle you slightly. Your shoulder blades rest against the top of the steering wheel, your back arched, and hands gripping whatever purchase they could find as you finally felt the heat of his dick brush against you.
He barely lifts a finger before a thin wisp of red and inky mist swirl at his touch, shredding through your panties without so much as a sound. You glance down just in time to witness as the ruined garment falls from your body, a mess of your arousal clinging to the maroon material as a string of iridescent slick stretched and snapped. 
It was pornographic, the way Sylus groaned at the sight. “I haven’t even touched you yet..” Your eyes glaze over as two fingers tease your dripping slit, the wet clicking sounds only fueling his exploration. “Fuck..” a husky moaned followed as he slipped the two fingers into your warm, welcoming heat. “F-uck… darling,” he experimentally strokes his fingertips, quickly brushing against the spot that has you panting his name with choked breaths. “Ah..” he breathes out, “There it is..”
His fingertips continue to stroke with a rhythmic press of his palm against your clit. You felt so hot, so unbearably turned on it was starting to hurt. “Please- oh please, Sy- Sylus, please, oh fuck-” you felt like your chest was on fire, burning you from the inside out. 
“Come on my fingers,” he growls against your lips, nose brushing against yours, “show me you pretty you look, let me see how badly you want my cock.” Finally, he brings his thumb to stroke tight circles against your clit.
Your body tenses, muscles taut as your nails threaten to leave crescent scars along his arm. Your head falls back with a wanton moan, thighs trembling as you coat his hand and lap with a pool of your release. You feel dazed, your body still humming with the aftershocks of euphoria he so easily led you to. 
Sylus was far from done with you yet. His leaking red cock stood hard and ready, hot against the wet skin of your thigh. He pulls you in by the column of your throat, planting a languid kiss to your lips, his pace slow and intent on enjoying the feeling of you pliant to his touch. “I’m going to ruin you.”
You barely hear it, let alone hardly make out his muttered promise. It doesn’t click until he breathes out against your swollen lips, his eyes piercing straight through you, “I’m going to show them you already have a lover.” 
Your lashes flutter as his grip tightens, sliding the leaking head of his cock through your dripping folds, just barely teasing your entrance as you whine his name, your own hips stuttering in his hold. Only when he finally – finally – has his fill of teasing you, of seeing you whimpering and clawing at his shoulder with quiet pleas of ‘more, please Sy, fuck me’, does he actually start fucking you like you’ve been craving.
“Fuck.. so fuckin’ tight, baby..” he groans as his thick dick slowly breaches you, the blunt head just barely making it through your tight ring of muscle before you’re keening with a loud, obscene whine. “Relax, kitten,” he drawls out, though he isn’t faring much better. 
You’re little cunt is sucking him in like a vice, and it takes every sliver of self control not to fuck up into your tight heat. His jaw ticks as he peers up at you perched on his lap, quivering and moaning from just the tip of his cock. 
Sylus leans up slightly, catching the breathy gasp that slips from you at the minor shift in angle. Warm lips spur more harmonies to spill from you as he kisses any section of skin he could see. The corner of your mouth, your cheek, jaw, neck and shoulder would all be littered with balmy breaths as he leaves marks sure to linger for days. You feel yourself relax into his hold, eyes threatening to fall shut as he haltingly bottoms out.
Fully sheathed inside your pulsing cunt, you both groan as you search for his lips, mutually swallowing the sounds of unadulterated pleasure when a strong pair of hands gently lift your hips a fraction, testing the waters before they drop you back down, your hips flush with his naval. You’re giddy with bliss, whimpering as your puffy clit drags along his happy trail in a way that has stars bursting in your vision.
“Shit-” you whine, feeling the curve of his cock press deeper into you with each thrust. Your head falls back, nearly resting atop the steering wheel, but Sylus is intent on watching you fall apart. His hand holds your jaw, thumb and finger squishing your cheeks slightly as your glazed eyes meet his, something primal and hungry swirling deep within the crimson depths. 
“Eyes on me, baby.”
You’re close. And you can tell he is too with the way his breathing is growing erratic, his neck flushing a pretty pink to match the tips of his ears. Your eyes flutter, a heavy fever settling in your stomach. The squelching noises become louder, more erotic the hotter this fever becomes, surely soaking into the seat below his lap. Your kiss bitten lips gape in an attempt to warn of your approaching climax, but you can scarcely hold back the choked moans as Sylus shushes you, his grip pulling you closer to his face as he grinds his hips into yours.
You come with a hoarse whine, your hands and thighs trembling as he continues to drag your orgasmic haze out for a few more seconds before you feel him pull out, making quick work with his hand as his cock paints your cunt and thighs a pretty sheen of white. 
You stare down at the mess, a filthy mixture of your own release and his lazily dripping down your skin. He lifts his hips slightly, tucking himself back into his slacks before his hands smooth down the bunched skirt of your dress. Panting softly, you try to steady yourself with a hand on his shoulder. You’re about to climb off his lap to crawl out of the car, but he tsks, holding you still with a hand on your waist. 
Your questioning protest stops short once you see Sylus examining your dress with a scrutinizing frown. His free hand holds up a stretch of the garment, and you can make out the faint blotches of stains darkening the material. He studies the blemished spot with an appraising hum.
“Perhaps I should have you wear this at the next event… That should satiate your friend’s interest, no?”
You swat a hand at his chest, blushing and indignant at the teasing lilt in his voice. If you knew anything about Sylus, his mirth always held some fraction of truth, and the mere thought of wearing a dress sullied with come made your skin crawl.
“You’re disgusting!-”
Sylus catches your wrist before your balled fist could make contact with his chest again, a gleam in his eyes that exudes pure satisfaction. “And you’re mine for the rest of the evening… any objections?”
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