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theemporium · 11 months ago

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[4.1k] when a last minute team meeting takes them to amsterdam, lando decides to take the opportunity to see what his teammate is like under the influence. (smut)

part two to this blurb that spiralled into landoscar smut somehow

It happened in Amsterdam.

With a new sponsor on the rise and the team desperate to lock down the deal before the new season started, Lando and Oscar were asked to fly out to the Netherlands a few weeks before the car launch. It put a small damper on both men’s winter break plans, the last few days of freedom they had before they dived into work mode for the new season—but ultimately, neither boy complained.

Oscar had felt bad for having to cancel your plans, knowing how excited you were about planning a few days for the two of you to spend some time alone together—away from the world, away from everyone. In all honesty, it was what he was looking forward to the most. He knew Formula One was different, that he would be busier than he ever had been in his life, but it never prepared him to be away from you for so long.

So yeah, he was pretty fucking bummed about having to cut the trip out of his plans but he invited you with him to Amsterdam in hopes the two of you could make the best out of a bad situation.

After all, Zak had only wanted them for a day or two, to just sit in meetings and play up some charm and confidence to give the sponsor the last push they needed to sign the deal with McLaren.

And, by some luck you swore was from a higher power, the deal had been negotiated and signed after a very long, tedious meeting.

But Oscar didn’t complain, he couldn’t complain when it meant that he would have more time alone with you in a country he never really had the chance to explore beyond the race tracks and most famous sites.

It just seemed like Lando had a similar idea.

“I got the perfect place to check out,” Lando insisted as they walked out of the busy office building they had been stuck in for the last few hours. “Martin recommended it, said it was insane and a necessity to check out when we were in the city.”

Oscar tugged uncomfortably at the collar of his shirt, but the boy’s words had him intrigued. “And he’s never taken you before?”

“Said it was best to visit in the off-season,” Lando replied, and the smile spread across his face did little to reassure Oscar’s suspicions about the mysterious place. “Bring your girl too! She will love it, Oscar. You both will.”

He raised his brows. “And you’re not going to tell me?”

“Be a little adventurous, Piastri,” his teammate teased, lightly nudging his shoulder as they headed towards their team-appointed cars. “Dress nice. We leave at eight.”

“I haven’t even agreed to anything,” Oscar pointed out, but the Brit didn’t seem all too bothered as he waved his teammate off before climbing into his car.

Truthfully, it shouldn’t have surprised Oscar that you were up for the night out. Lando’s mysterious words intrigued you as much as they intrigued him, and you both trusted Lando enough that he wouldn’t be stupid enough to drag you somewhere dodgy. Hopefully.

So, Oscar tried to push away the voice in the back of his head that said he should have asked more questions. He was a Formula One driver, he was used to control, he was used to always being the one in charge of his own fate. It felt weird to leave everything in the hands of Lando, even if he trusted his teammate more than he did with most people in his life.

“Relax,” you murmured to him as you stepped between his legs, your hands resting on his shoulders as he waited for Lando to message he was waiting downstairs. “It’s one night.”

“I know, I’m excited,” Oscar answered honestly as his hands rested on the back of your thighs, trying not to think about the pretty, little dress you had slipped on for the night. He could have sworn he had never seen it before. A part of him was tempted to cancel the whole night and stay in to truly appreciate the dress. “It’s just the idea of Lando being in charge of everything…”

“Hm, you say that as though you don’t worship the ground he walks on,” you teased, smiling in amusement at the way his cheeks burned pink.

“I do not!” Oscar grumbled, but he was smiling back. “Okay, I do a little. But it’s Lando…he’s my first teammate in Formula One. He is just—”

“I know,” you murmured with a smile, leaning down to peck his lips. “And he cares about you. So relax and trust the fact that he was excited to check this place out with you.”

The place in question—the one that Martin insisted Lando needed to check out—turned out to be something straight out of a Bond movie.

Oscar hadn’t even managed to catch the name when Lando had muttered it to their driver, a giddy smile on his face as he turned back to look at you and Osacr in the back seat. He was excited, buzzing in his seat as he rambled off about random topics could barely even keep up with as he watched the city pass by in a blink through the window.

It was an exclusive club, not very well-known but a local treasure to those who knew of it. One of those places in movies where you knocked on a steel door and grumbled out a password. The kind of places that you expected to feel dodgy and cautious and like you were making the biggest mistake for stepping into the establishment. One of those places that two high-profile athletes should definitely never be caught in.

But Lando just turned to him, that stupidly huge grin on his face as he threw an arm over his shoulder and dragged him inside.

“Relax, Piastri, nobody is gonna care who you are in here!”

And honestly, the thought shouldn’t have been as appealing as it was to him.

But despite the many warnings he received about stepping up as a Formula One driver, Oscar never really wrapped his head around how famous he was. He had his fair share of internet spotlight on him throughout his career, he was used to being recognised every once in a while. But being a Formula One driver—a McLaren one, nonetheless—was a whole new level.

People stopped him in the streets and asked for photos. His face was blasted on huge posters in airports and cities he hadn’t visited before. Every aspect of his life was constantly under a microscope now. He had fans and followers all around the world, not just from his home country. He had a level of fame he couldn’t even conceptualise.

He had a level of fame he wasn’t even sure he wanted.

His whole life he just wanted to drive. He just wanted to get behind the wheel and achieve the dream he had been chasing after since he was a young boy. He just wanted to do what he loved, what he had been passionate about since before he could even remember.

It just came in a package deal with having more attention that he preferred, so the very idea of stepping foot into this exclusive club and nobody caring he was Oscar Piastri? Yeah, that sounded really fucking good.

Your arm wrapped around his biceps as you followed the Brit deeper into the club. It was dark—darker than a usual club—with red-tinted lights surrounding the place, adding a soft hue that was just enough to see a few steps ahead of you. The music thumped through the building, like the bass lived in the walls as it sounded throughout the place.

There was no bar. And the dance floor wasn’t really a dance floor. It felt like a stage, placed right in the middle of the room for people to ogle and observe. The whole place was surrounded in these dimly lit booths, large enough that they almost felt like a room.

The whole place was fucking weird and nothing like he expected.

And maybe that was what thrilled Oscar about the whole situation.

“Where do we order our drinks?” He had asked as they made their way to the far left corner, the furthest place from the door. The surrounding booths were empty but Lando still chose the one right in the corner as he flopped down onto the large cushioned sofas.

He watched as you and Oscar took the seat across from him as he grinned.

Oscar raised his brows.

“We are in fucking Amsterdam,” Lando snorted, something glinting in his eyes that even the dim, red lights seemed to pick up. “You don’t come here to get shit-faced drunk, Oscar.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “You brought us to your dodgy club to get stoned?”

“Best in the city, baby,” Lando said, the smile on his face widening as he leaned back against the cushions, comfortable and settled with his legs spread a little wider than he usually would. “A little birdie told me Oscar was the kind of man you wanted to smoke with.”

Oscar raised his brows. “You sound surprised by that.”

“Let’s just say there aren’t many sides to you that I don’t think I’ve already seen,” Lando answered with a simple shrug before he raised his hand, catching the attention of a waitress Oscar didn’t even notice was walking by.

And maybe it was immoral. Or sneaky. Or whatever you wanted to call it.

Maybe it wasn’t the most truthful way to experience it but Lando Norris was a fucking curious man and the opportunity fell right into the palm of his hand. Because Logan Sargeant’s words had been ringing in his head like a loop since that night in the club, his eyes being opened to a whole new side of his younger teammate and he wanted to see more.

He wanted to know who Oscar Piastri was under all the layers he seemed to put up when he was sober.

And with the team dragging them to Amsterdam and Martin having told him about this club with the assurance that it suddenly wouldn’t be plastered over the front page in the morning that they were indulging in recreational drugs before the season started…well, Lando couldn’t just ignore it, could he?

It wasn’t noticeable at first and, for a brief moment, Lando wondered if the American was just pulling his leg about the whole situation. He wondered if Logan had just seen his shock to clingy, touchy Oscar when he was drunk and needy and thought it would be hilarious to just add fuel to the fire that night for his own amusement.

Because one joint in and Oscar seemed like he had hours ago in the meeting room, dressed in a fancy suit and looking slightly out of his comfort zone.

But time passed and the edges of his own brain began to feel fuzzy, and Lando started noticing it. He noticed the way Oscar seemed to squirm in his seat, the way his eyes lingered on your mouth as you took a drag from the joint. He noticed the way Oscar’s arm had dropped from around your shoulder to his hand firmly being placed on the bare skin of your thigh instead. He watched as Oscar pressed his body close to yours until there wasn’t an inch of your side that wasn’t touching his.

And then, Oscar was leaning in, his lips skimming past your ear and instantly dropping to your neck like he didn’t even care Lando was there.

Lando couldn’t even bring himself to feel all that guilty as he watched the display, something deep in his gut twisting in desire.

Your eyes fluttered shut as the boy’s lips latched onto your neck, a small sigh leaving your lips as he began to press soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. His hand squeezed your thigh, gripping onto it like it was a lifeline as he continued to kiss lower and lower until his lips were brushing against the fabric of your dress.

“Oscar,” you murmured as you raised your hand, fingers threaded through his hair but the boy didn’t stop as he nosed the edge of your dress, his lips dangerously close to your cleavage.

“Want you,” the Aussie murmured, something like a whine sounding from the back of his throat as he nipped the fabric with his teeth. “Please.”

“Baby,” you choked out a noise, your eyes snapping open like you finally seemed to remember Lando was there. You felt breathless as your eyes met his, the dim light making it difficult to read the expression on his face but you could have sworn you saw something quite like desire in his gaze. “Lando is—”

“Not complaining,” the Brit finished for you, his voice a little rougher and even he wasn’t sure if it was from the smoking or the sight in front of him.

Oscar blinked as he lifted his head, his cheeks flushed and his eyes a little red. He looked at you before he shifted his eyes to Lando, his gaze dragging over his teammate. He should have removed himself from you, should have pulled his hand away and slid away—but he remained exactly where he was.

“Don’t be shy, Oscar,” Lando murmured, and something in the Aussie’s chest sparked. “You wanna touch your girl, then who am I to stop you from making her feel good.”

“You gonna watch?” Oscar asked.

“Do you want me to leave?” Lando retorted.

“No.”

Lando’s smirk slowly widened. “Yeah? You two gonna put on a little show for me?”

Oscar blinked before he turned to look at you. His whole body felt like it was on fire, like there were flames coursing through his veins and burning him alight and he never wanted to stop. But as he looked at you, eyes glossy or not, one word from you and he would stop this whole thing, regardless of his own feelings on the matter.

You were his first priority. You were always his first priority.

“You wanna, baby?” He murmured, just low enough for it to only be heard by the two of you.

“I think,” you swallowed thickly as your eyes traced over your boyfriend’s face, as the bubbling desire and strong urge to clench your legs together washed over you with the heat of Lando’s gaze on you. “It would be the polite thing to do.”

Oscar tucked his bottom lip between his teeth.

“Show him how good you make me feel,” you murmured as his grip on your thigh tightened in response.

And when you couldn’t resist anymore, your eyes snapped over to where Lando was sitting. There was something thrilling about the sight, something your fuzzy brain couldn’t begin to comprehend but your body sure as hell did. There was something about him sitting across from you both, legs spread and eyes focused on the two of you as he watched in silent appreciation.

It felt dirty. It felt wrong. It felt like the last thing the three of you should be doing in a random club in Amsterdam. And yet, none of you wanted to stop.

Lando watched in delight the way a choked gasp left your lips as Oscar tugged the neckline of your dress down, as his lips attached to the newly exposed skin. Your hand moved back to thread through his hair, tugging softly as he pulled your dress down until your tits were exposed.

He watched as Oscar let out a groan at the sight, as his lips wrapped around your nipple. He watched as your head fell back, your boyfriend’s name a breathy moan past your lips as he continued to nuzzle himself between your tits.

“Would’ve never taken you as a tits man, Oscar.” Lando’s voice was rough and low, something that shouldn’t have made the whole situation hotter but it did. “Can’t blame you though, can I? Your girl has such pretty tits, would be a crime to ignore them.”

A whine sounded from the back of Oscar’s throat.

Lando’s eyes fell from your flushed face to the hand on your thigh. He watched as Oscar continued to push the hem of your dress further up until he got impatient and allowed his hand to slip beneath the skirt. He watched as Oscar groaned something incoherent against your skin, as you shifted your hips enough for him to pull your panties down your legs with a speed that was almost impressive.

He hardly had time to blink before he felt the soft thump against his leg, as he looked down to see your panties balled up and now resting on his lap after Oscar had thrown them.

Lando let out a dark chuckle, his head falling back. “You little shit.”

But Oscar didn’t pay him any attention. Oscar didn’t pay attention to anything but you and the feeling of you beneath his lips and touch. His brain was fuzzy, his thoughts were muddled and all he knew was that he really, really fucking wanted to taste you.

Yet, you didn’t seem to share Oscar’s one-track mind.

“Not fair that we’re the only ones who get to have fun,” you murmured, your eyes watching him closely as Lando eyed the pair of panties, seeming to contemplate so many racing thoughts in his head before he reached for them. “Maybe I want a show too.”

Lando’s eyes found yours in the dark. “Yeah?”

“Mhm,” it was a little high-pitched as Oscar’s thumb pressed against your clit. “Yeah. Please.”

He let out a groan. “Still so fucking polite when he is all over you.”

You weren’t even sure where the spark of confidence came from—maybe from the way he was watching you and Oscar so eagerly—but your mouth opened before you could stop yourself. “Jealous?”

“Maybe.”

You swallowed thickly, your fingers tugging on Oscar’s hair as you watched Lando’s hand drop to the obvious bulge in his pants. “Of who?”

His smirk widened. “Both.”

“Shit,” you whispered, an embarrassingly high-pitched noise leaving your lips as you tore your eyes away from the older driver before your whole body burned up.

“Look what a good boy he is,” Lando commented, watching as Oscar littered soft kisses all over your chest and collarbone as his fingers pressed small circles against your clit. “Barely even touched you and he’s humping the sofa.”

Oscar’s cheeks burned hot.

“Bet he’s obedient,” Lando continued as the sound of a zipper echoed through the booth, as the rustling made it clear to both of you what he was doing. “Such a good listener, aren’t you, Oscar? Just wanna make everyone happy, hm? A team player.”

Oscar finally lifted his head, his eyes glossed over like he was drunk off lust and desire alone.

“You gonna listen to me, baby?”

He nodded.

“Gonna do what I say?”

He nodded again, his eyes locked on the way Lando palmed himself over his boxers with one hand as he held your panties in the other.

A slow smirk spread across his face. “Get between her legs, baby, I know you’ve been dying for a taste of her probably since she put on that lil’ number.”

And Lando was right. He was obedient. It was almost like his body was moving under a spell as he shifted, as he slid off the couch and settled on his knees on the carpeted floor instead. It should have felt wrong to have his back to Lando, but instead the idea that the boy’s eyes were locked on him whilst he touched himself (even if Oscar couldn’t see) thrilled him more than it should have.

His hands palmed your thighs before he slowly spread your legs, as he pushed the fabric of your dress until it pooled at your hips and exposed you. A whimper left Oscar’s lips as he tugged you closer to the edge, as one hand pushed your thigh back whilst the other guided your leg over his shoulder.

He looked up at you, his cock twitching in his pants at the silent plea in your eyes for him to do something, to give you what you wanted just as bad as him. And his eyes never left your as he leaned down, tongue pressed against your soaked cunt as he licked upwards in one thick, broad stroke.

“Fuck!”

Lando couldn’t help himself as his hand slipped beneath the waistband of his boxers, as he squeezed the length of himself before pulling his cock free of any restraints.

Lando couldn’t help himself as the hand fisting your panties wrapped around his cock, as he let the lacy fabric run against his sensitive tip and resisted the urge to buck his hips.

Lando couldn’t fucking help himself as he stroked his cock, his eyes locked on the way you panted and moaned and grasped the cushions around you as Oscar worked between your legs.

A part of him wanted to get up, to close the distance between him and you both. He wanted to walk over, he wanted to thread his fingers through Oscar’s hair like you had done before and guide him. He wanted to watch the boy lick and kiss and suck your needy cunt until his face was dripping. He wanted to whisper just what a good fucking boy Oscar really was as he made you come, as Lando watched you come.

But the other part of him liked this—this twisted sense of power. He liked the fact he could sit back and watch, like it really was a show you two were putting on for him. He liked the idea that this went beyond something any of you understood, the way the two of you were so eager and pliant and obedient for him.

He liked that he could sit back, your wet panties fisted around his cock as he watched the two of you moan and squirm and desperately try and look pretty for him.

And you did. You both looked so, so pretty for him.

And you sounded so pretty too when you moaned out his name instead of your boyfriend’s. The way your back arched off the couch, your face scrunched up in pleasure as Oscar held your hips down. The way Lando could hear the way his teammate was groaning against your pussy, see the way his hips shifted like he desperately needed some friction against his aching cock.

It was the prettiest fucking sight Lando had ever seen.

“That’s it, baby,” Lando groaned. “Come for Oscar, let him taste you, yeah?”

You nodded dumbly, far too lost in your own pleasure to even understand what he was saying.

“Bet you’re so fucking hard,” Lando continued, his eyes locked on the way the muscles in his back shifted through his shirt. “Bet you could come just from hearing her moan, huh?”

The whine Oscar let out told Lando everything he needed to know.

“That’s it,” Lando groaned, his fist tightening around his cock as he felt his stomach clench as he neared the edge, as he neared his own orgasm. “Gotta finish the show f’me, hm? Gonna be good for me, yeah?”

You chanted out Oscar’s name as you finally came, shaking and squirming as he held your body against the cushions and continued to suck on your sensitive clit. And when you couldn’t take any more, you lightly pushed his head away to see his expression: flushed cheeks, hooded eyes and glossy lips that you wanted to kiss so bad. But a shifting movement caught your eyes, your gaze moving down to look at the dark patch spread across the front of his boxers.

“Just tasted so good,” Oscar murmured, not even ashamed or embarrassed at the mess he made.

And then your eyes shifted to look at the boy across the room.

He leaned back against the cushions, his chest moving up and down with soft pants. His trousers were pushed down to pool mid-thigh, his boxers just above them and his cock was still fisted in his hand, covered by your panties and his own come. It shouldn’t have been so attractive.

“I think I prefer this Oscar much better than drunk Oscar,” Lando eventually commented, something quite like a smug grin on his face as he looked between you both.

There was a tension in the room, one that none of your fuzzy brains could really grasp onto just yet. But it was there and it was overwhelming and suffocating and you each had half the mind to hope this night never ended.

You didn’t know what would happen after tonight, but you knew until then, the hidden club in the depths of Amsterdam would keep your secret—the secret that maybe all three of you wanted something more than a night fuelled by lust and weed.

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whimsyfinny · 5 months ago

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Fix Your Attitude

Dean Winchester x F!Reader

Summary: (Y/n) is just like an other woman trying to function in this fucked up world - and she's starts her day with coffee. At least that was always the plan until Dean interfered.

Warnings: Language, Smut, Fingering, PinV, slightly Dom! Dean, and if you squint there's maybe possessive/jealous Dean

MDNI! 18+

Word Count: 4470

A/N: So this is technically my first ever one shot! Woop! I've written this as part of my competition from a few weeks back, and this is for the wonderful winner @spookyysinsanity ! Hope you enjoyyy.

“Seriously, Dean? What the actual fuck!?” The audacity of the older Winchester brother had me throwing my hands up in frustration, my irritable tone bouncing off the walls in the kitchen and landing on ears that couldn’t possibly care any less.

“Should’ve got here sooner, sweetheart. You know how it is; first come first serve,” he tauntingly raised his coffee mug to my dishevelled figure standing over the empty coffee pot. The lack of caffeinated bean-water had brought a panic-sweat to my temples, knowing all too well how things would pan out if I didn’t get what I needed.

“How many cups have you had?”

“What?” He blinked frustratingly slowly - he knew what I’d asked.

“Jerk - I said ‘how many cups have you had’?”

“Hmmm…” he tapped his finger against the side of the mug, lips pursing over feigned thoughts.

“DEAN.”

“Maybe… three?” He shrugged his shoulders nonchalantly - although the nonchalant bubble popped when a sly smirk slipped through the cracks. My mouth opened and closed a few times, words forming and disappearing too rapidly through my mind to even make it past my lips as desperation sizzled into rage.

“You DICK!”

“Hey don’t yell at me - just make another pot,” he held his hands up defensively.

My eyes flitted over to the empty tin on the side - an empty tin left tauntingly in plain sight.

“You know damn well I can’t do that! We’re out of coffee, totally out. Zilch. Nothing. Empty.”

“Well,” he lifted his mug to his lips, “not totally empty.”

“What do you- oh…OH,” I felt my razor sharp glare zero in on the mug at his lips - there had to be at least half a cup in there with how little he had to tilt it up before taking a gulp. I took a step forward and jabbed my finger towards the prize.

“Give me that.”

He offered me nothing but raised eyebrows and a loud slurp.

“Dean.”

Again, silence only echoed back, however my frustration towards him started to buzz in my head as he slowly lowered the mug to unveil a slap-worthy grin.

“DEAN.”

He gently placed the mug on the table and turned to me, large arms crossing over his broad chest as he settled in his chair, thighs spreading wide for comfort.

“Wow, I thought I was grouchy in the mornings before coffee but damn, sweetheart you’re really claiming first place with that one.”

I took a step closer, my eyes practically burning a hole in the cup next to him on the table. His grin widened as he noticed me stalking forwards, like a predator ready to pounce on its unsuspecting prey. However my prey was incredibly suspecting and, in all honesty, not really prey at all. My bare feet padded quietly towards him, each tentative step raising more suspicion in Dean as my desperation for caffeine became all-consuming and my honed hunting skills became sloppy. I gave myself away when I tore my gaze from the mug and glanced over at Dean, catching his amused smirk and playful eyes before I lunged forward, hands grasping at air where the liquid-treasure should have been. Spinning on my heel after almost colliding with the table I turned to face Dean, now standing a few steps behind me with one hand wrapped around the ceramic and the other dipping lazily into the pocket of his jeans.

“Come on darlin’ you’re better than that.”

“Fuck you.”

A low whistle floated in the air between us before he tutted at me, shaking his head slowly.

“So mean.”

“Says you!”

“Hey I got here first - I'm the victim here. You're the one trying to rob me.”

“Don't play that game - you are not the victim here. All of your bullshit has been calculated,” I narrowed my eyes up at him as he traced his tongue over his bottom lip.

“Maybe it has been. Not much you can do about it now though is there?” His eyes glinted like the tricksters before he took another gulp of his coffee. I could feel my palms growing sweaty in apprehension, knowing all too well that the coffee level was dropping inside that cup.

Time to try a different approach. Something more… tactical.

“You know…” I pulled a lock of hair between my fingers, twirling it around, “you're my favourite Winchester.”

I paused and he raised his eyebrows, suspecting yet silently urging for more.

“Sam is just so nice and tall but…” I quietly stepped towards him, inwardly cheering when he made no attempt to move away.

“But?”

“But I mean look at you, so ruggedly handsome… and with that authentic ‘tough guy’ personality to make all the ladies swoon. And don't even get me started on these broad shoulders and big arms of yours…” I padded around him, tracing a single finger delicately up one arm, over the back of his shoulders and down the other arm. I almost missed the small shiver that ghosted over his skin and raised the hairs on his exposed forearms.

“Oh, so you like what you see?” He raised an eyebrow, his voice subtly dropping to a deeper tone.

I chewed my bottom lip slightly before stopping in front of him, a hair's breadth away. From here I could smell the masculine scent of his cologne - the same one I'd only ever known him to wear - and the subtle, intoxicating scent of leather and gunpowder. Combined, those three items were the very essence of Dean, the warmth of it all clinging to his clothes and practically seeping from his pores. I couldn't stop myself from taking a deep breath and letting the hypnotic scent travel straight to my brain. He’d always smelt divine, but I was never going to give him the satisfactory access to that information.

Upon tilting my head up to lock eyes with him, I could feel his coffee-scented breath fan over my face, the smell of what I wanted most almost making my mouth water. I couldn't let myself become enveloped in the addictive haze around him - I needed to remember what I was here for without letting myself become distracted.

Evergreen eyes flitted between mine, unsure of my next move. But the more I looked into them, the more dilated his pupils became. I couldn't help but grin a little to myself, relishing in his reaction.

“Come on Dean, just hand over the coffee. I know deep down that you really want to…”

He hummed, the sound a little gravelly as it emanated from his chest.

“You see sweetheart,” he smirked a little as he gripped the mug, lifting it to his lips. The action immediately caused me to take an urgent step forwards, a part of me truly believing that he would drain the cup right there and then. He must've seen the panic jolt through me as he released a small, breathy laugh.

“I see what?”

“You see… I don't think it's coffee that you need to stop being such a bitch in the morning.”

My eyes immediately narrowed towards him at his choice of words. He can make it so easy to look past his good looks when he acts like such an ass.

“What the actual fuck does that mean?”

“Oh I think you know what it means.”

“Fuck you, Dean.”

“If you want.”

“Go to- wait what?” I felt my heart leap in my chest, my mind unsure if I wanted to have heard him correctly.

His smirk spread across his face as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, his mossy green gaze dragging over my figure as though I were totally naked.

“You heard me,” he took a step forward, his boots heavy on the hard kitchen floor. My cheeks burned, and I wasn't sure if it was from whatever scandalous thoughts of him I'd pushed to the back of my mind that I never intended to humour, or the rage bubbling to the surface at the sheer audacity from him, thinking I'd just accept this sort of shitty attitude.

“You’re crazy if you think that I’d let you in my pants,” the bewilderment in my voice was evident, and so was the growing frustration. This conversation had taken a wild turn and it’s safe to say that I didn’t like the direction it was headed. It was a rocky path of buried desires and a cocky male ego - a male ego that somehow knew what buttons to press to get my temper sizzling.

“Oh but sweetheart I could make it so good…” his voice was like caramel, becoming harder to ignore as he took another step forward, backing me into the table. I swallowed the almost nervous lump that had started to form in my throat, my heart rate quickening with every second he looked at me with those darkening eyes.

“And why would you want to do that?” I did well at hiding the slight nervous wobble in my voice. He chuckled slightly before breaking eye contact and looking down at his boots, thinking for a moment before shooting his eyes back to me, his intense gaze burning into mine.

“Because for once, I’d love to see that smart mouth of yours moan my name.”

I couldn’t stop that small gasp that escaped between my parted lips at his sudden bold statement, and that small gasp seemed to be all that it took to invite Dean in. In one fluid movement he drained the remainder of the coffee into his mouth and took a final step forward, closing the gap between us and wrapped a single strong arm around my waist, pulling me firmly against his body. His other hand quickly discarded the mug before grasping my face, his thumb pushing into my cheek and urging me to open my mouth. Before I was able to conjure a single thought he’d pulled my mouth to his, his plush lips covering mine before transferring that mouthful of coffee over to me. My eyes widened at the sudden appearance of warm liquid gliding over my tongue, the flavour of coffee, sweetened with sugar, would have soothed my senses if it wasn’t for the way it was administered. I hurriedly swallowed it down, not caring for the trickle that escaped the corner of my lips, now more preoccupied with Dean Winchesters mouth pressing onto mine. He allowed one… two… three heated kisses before pulling away, leaving me gasping and gripping the edge of the table for dear life. As he pulled away, he released his grip on my jaw, spotting the trickle of coffee and catching the droplets with his thumb. I didn’t intend to dwell on the action too much, at least not until he pushed his coffee-coated thumb past my lips and into my mouth, pressing lightly on my tongue. Still taken aback by the kiss, I stared up at him dumbly, my mind simultaneously racing whilst emptying itself of all logical thoughts. On instinct, I licked the coffee from his thumb, hearing a gruff hum of approval from him.

“Look at you - quiet for once.”

Before I could retaliate to his comment he pulled his thumb from my mouth and grasped my jaw again, a little softer this time as he guided my face to his. His lips grazed mine as he spoke.

“Have you finished acting like a bitch?”

I nodded.

“Are you sure? Because I think I should fuck you on this table here - just to be sure.”

The involuntary shiver that shimmied down my spine gave my innermost thoughts away when Dean noticed it; another smirk gracing his lips as he pulled himself between my knees and grasped under my thighs to lift me onto the table. I hissed slightly as the cold surface bit at my bare rear, the oversized Metallica t-shirt doing nothing to shield me as it rode up on my hips. There was a short moment, like a breath taken and held as we paused to look at each other. His eyes darkened like a forest at dusk, piercing into my own before studying my lips. I found myself doing the same to him, watching how his gaze darted up and down, frantic to find a focal point on my face whilst his lips parted, tongue poking out to wet them. We shared each other's hot coffee-scented breath, my heartbeat starting to echo in my ears as my blood began to run hot at the thought of him taking me right here on this table. He chewed slightly on his bottom lip, the fantasies of my own prurient mind running rampant at what that mouth was capable of doing to me. What I undeniably wanted it to do to me. Before another thought appeared he hastily leaned in and planted a searing kiss on my neck, his stubble tickling my ear whilst one large, strong hand planted itself just below my shoulder blades; his whole arm crushing me against him. Everything he did made me want to purr. His lips exceeded expectations as he kissed red-hot paths up and down my neck; my skin prickling when he pressed his lips below my ear and jaw, pulling pathetic whimpers from my lungs. He kneaded the silky-soft flesh of my thigh with his other hand, eventually causing me to gently hook my legs around him to ease the desperate need to writhe at his every touch.

“Dean…” his name left my lips as an airy gasp when the hand on my thigh travelled up, his thumb hooking under the waistband of my panties.

“What happened to that big, tough girl persona? Can’t really take it huh?” His taunting words went straight to my brain when he spoke them with his lips pressed right to my ear.

“Fuck, Dean… I hate you.”

He chuckled, placing a kiss on my cheek before uttering over my lips:

“Of course you do, sweetheart.”

As his sentence ceased as his mouth claimed mine, muffling the moan bubbling in my throat as his tongue pushed against my own. I reached one hand up to tug on his hair, dragging my nails across his scalp when the strands at the base of his skull were too short to grasp. He groaned into the kiss, lips moving faster at the sensation of my fingertips. His broad chest became a resting spot for my other hand, the taught muscle flexing beneath soft skin as I glided my delicate fingers up to clutch his shoulder. It was like being in a trance; the only thing I was capable of thinking about was him. Dean. The strength of his hand on my back contrasting the tenderness of the one on my thigh. The heat of his mouth, his tongue on mine, consuming my gasps and ragged breaths. His devouring reduced me to naught but lustful putty in his arms, especially when an assured hand slid from my hip to my ribs and a gentle thumb smoothed over the softness of the underside of my breast. The feather-light touch caused goosebumps to erupt on my skin, the warmth of his palm doing nothing to soothe them away. When a groan passed my lips at his actions, he gripped tighter, my legs instinctively pulling him closer. This time it was Dean that groaned, as pulling him towards me had pressed the ever-growing bulge in his jeans against the soft cotton of my panties. The sensation was electric, igniting the fiery ache between my legs as my thighs twitched when he didn't pull away - instead pushing himself against me harder. I sucked in a breath where I could, his lips refusing to leave mine, even to let me breathe. He was hungry. Animalistic. Dominating. I don't know what I'd been imagining when I was alone in my room in the depths of night, but this… this was something I'd never fantasised about. How commanding he was, how he pulled me in with stern words and an air of authority. Gone was the boyish charm and playful pickup lines - this was something that could easily suck me in and pull me under. He could drown me in sharp comments and tantalising games.

And I would let him.

“Look at you, twitching like a virgin,” he pulled away enough to huskily speak against the corner of my mouth. I moaned slightly, biting my lip when his thumb moved from the underside of my breast to my nipple, delicately toying with the perky skin.

“Who's to say I'm not?” My voice was more breathy than I'd anticipated, my head lolling back when he started to trail kisses down my neck again. My comment pulled a laugh from his chest, the sound almost cutting through the sexual haze.

“Oh darlin’, don't think I don't know about your motel room escapades - I was always in the room next to yours,” he finally pulled back slightly to look at me, the cool air flooding between us in his absence. As my eyes met his, my heart hammered in my chest at the raw blackness of his irises - pupils blown wide with hot arousal and leaving no soft greens in sight. I could feel my cheeks heating up with embarrassment, realisation creeping in. Dean took it all in with a grin on his lips.

“That's right sweetheart - I heard it all. Every little noise you made when those jerk-offs touched you. When they tried to make you feel good,” his smile faltered slightly before he leaned in a little closer, “but you know, I never heard any of them make you cum. I only ever heard you finish when they were gone and you were all alone.”

He pressed more of those red-hot kisses just below my jaw, the hand on my breast descending, trailing a path down the soft skin of my abdomen before disappearing down the front of my panties. A moan tore from my throat when he slid his skilled fingers through my folds to gather my pooling wetness, his hum of approval ringing in my ears when my mind emptied at his fingers tracing circles around my clit. My grip on him was vice-like, whimpers already tumbling off my tongue.

“You know (Y/n), you should've just come to me. You should've told those useless bastards to fuck off and let me do everything you needed me to do,” his breath was hot against my neck as he spoke, and he finished his sentence off by finally pressing a rough finger against my clit. I whined like a bitch in heat as he went around and around and around, making me clench around nothing and crave him in his entirety.

“I would've done this to you every night - made you forget everything but my name.”

“Dean…”

“Thas’right sweetheart. Never would've left you unsatisfied.”

“Please, Dean… please… I need you to fuck me,” my words were desperate and I could tell he relished in that, suddenly plunging two thick digits inside me without so much as a word. My hands flew to his back, nails digging into broad muscle as I leaned into him, burying my flushed face into his neck and breathing in his intoxicating scent. He curled his fingers up and pushed against the pleasure-cushion inside me, knowing exactly what to look for and what to do with it. My legs tightened even more around him as I was unable to stop the euphoric twitches jolting through my limbs. He removed his hand that was pressed below my shoulder blades and lifted it to my hair, unclipping the claw-grip to let the unruliness tumble out. He practically chucked the plastic clip to the table before threading his fingers through my hair, grasping close to my scalp before tugging my head back to make me look at him.

“Now that you've dropped your attitude and asked nicely, I'm going to fuck you until you can't walk.”

He pressed his fingers inside me one final time, drawing another pathetic whimper from my lips before pulling his fingers out and lifting them to his lips. I watched, mouth agape and breaths ragged as he licked my slick from his digits, savouring the taste of me with a satisfied groan.

“That’s the best shit I’ve ever tasted,” his deep, gravelly tone had me reaching desperately for his belt buckle as Dean claimed my mouth again, his own eagerness starting to show. As I finished unzipping his jeans I pushed them down his hips just enough to dip my hand into his boxers and pull his cock free. A deep moan pushed its way into my mouth as I curled my fingers around his length, his size already intimidating as his cock rested hot and heavy in my palm. I wasted no time on gripping him tight, starting gentle motions going up and down again, and again, and again, causing Dean to move both hands to my thighs - his grip on me threatening to leave bruises. I dragged my thumb over his tip, urging a blissful shudder to surge through him as I smeared the gathering precum up and down his length. His lips never once left mine. I could feel him becoming breathless as I slowly increased the speed of my hand, so I caught his bottom lip between my teeth as a means to pull away for a moment. As I breathed in his contented groan, I pulled back slightly further to get a look at his face.

“Dean… Dean please - I need you inside me-”

“Stop fucking around then and c’mere.”

I squeaked a little at his harsh tone, unable to stop the next words from tumbling out.

“Yessir.”

I watched his brows knit together and his eyes almost roll before he dropped his head to my neck, grabbing the underside of my thighs and dragging me right to the edge of the table. With one hand he grabbed his cock and used it to move my underwear to one side before lining up and sinking in. The lascivious moans that spilled from our lips were almost harmonious, Dean pushing in to the hilt and forcing me to wrap one arm around his neck and the other to prop me up behind me - both stopping me from losing my balance under Deans intensity. Dean looked as though he was getting lost in a sexual haze as he crushed me against him again with one arm, having the decency to remain still for a few moments so I could adjust to his size as he eye-wateringly stretched out my insides - the sensation almost burning.

“Jesus- fuck-” his breath was slightly strained as he groaned into my neck, “now I’m mad that you decided to fuck lonely jerk-offs instead of me - with a pussy like this- shit- I would’ve been crawling back for more.”

He started to move slowly, pulling out gently before slipping back in - easing me into it with sexual expertise.

“Oh fuck- Dean- you don’t mean that-”

“(Y/n) you’d have to shoot me to stop me - you feel too fucking good.”

He started to up the tension - dropping every ounce of softness as he lost control of that part of him. He fucked the same way that he hunted monsters: raw, skilful and always in control - my mind racing with the knowledge of how dangerous this man actually was. He was Dean fucking Winchester, and here he was - fucking me over the breakfast table whilst I wore nothing but a band t-shirt. As he pounded into me and the intensity grew I was unable to stop the lewd noises tumbling from my lips. Such lewd noises however seemed to spur Dean on, the power of his thighs and hips inching the heavy wooden table across the floor.

“How are you still so fucking tight-” his words were almost slurred, his sexually inebriated mind seemingly becoming obsessed.

“Shit- Dean, I’m getting close already,” my eyes squeezed shut as I began to feel that familiar knot in the depths of my core. With every thrust he dragged over every over-sensitive nerve ending, unravelling me quicker than I’d even been unravelled before.

“Oh yeah? You wanna cum?”

I nodded my head vigorously, loose strands of hair falling around my face as tears started to well in my eyes. Dean glanced down at me without so much as a stutter in his hips, a slight grin playing on his lips even in a moment like this.

“Tears?”

“Fuck-fuck- you Dean, it's not my f-fault you're the first one to fuck me properly- oh God-”

“Well I'm glad it was me sweetheart,” he tried to keep up the slightly playful tone but I could see in his eyes that he was on the brink as well. Without another word he moved one hand to push lightly on my lower belly, his thumb dipping down to rub soft circles over that oh-so-sensitive bundle of nerves. I gasped at the contact, Dean taking the opportunity to plant uncharacteristically soft kisses on my parted lips before whispering:

“I need you to cum for me - I need you to let go. I've got you darlin’.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

The circles drawn with his thumb increased in speed and as did the pounding of his hips against mine.

“Dean- Dean please-”

I could feel him winding that knot tighter, and tighter, and tighter; lifting the euphoria coursing through my veins to its highest peak before the white-hot heat of orgasmic bliss erupted inside me. Wave after wave after wave of pleasure cascaded down, drowning me in the most earth shattering climax I'd ever experienced. I could feel myself tightening repeatedly around Dean, his thrusts becoming frantic before his own release rolled through him.

“Oh Fuck- (Y/n)-”

His guttural groan into the crook of my neck sent a shiver down my spine and goosebumps across my skin, the sound of him cumming making me clench even tighter around him.

“You squeeze me any tighter darlin’ and you're gonna kill me,”

“I-I’m not- I mean- I'm sorry?”

He groaned again when I twitched slightly, this time he pulled back to look me in the eye, taking note of the drying tear-tracks and smudged mascara.

“You good?”

“Y-yeah, I'm good,” I huffed out a deep, contented sigh, "I am so, so good.”

He grinned, the assertiveness from earlier seeming to dissipate and the good ‘ol Dean was returning.

“Best you've ever had?” His green eyes twinkled mischievously.

I playfully slapped his shoulder, not impacting the smirk on his lips whatsoever.

“Easy there cowboy - if your ego gets any bigger there'll be no living with you.”

“You didn't answer my question.”

I chewed on my bottom lip slightly, making him wait a little for the answer before I replied with a grin of my own.

“Yeah, definitely the best I've ever had.”

————————————————————

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#dean winchester #dean winchester smut #dean x y/n #dean x you #dean winchester x reader #dean winchester x you #dean x female!reader #dean x reader #dean winchester x reader smut #dean winchester x you smut #dean winchester one shot #dean imagine #supernatural imagine #supernatural reader insert #reader insert #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural #spn

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jyoongim · 1 year ago

Text

Themes: posessiveness, slight yandere behavior, mentions of cannibalism, softcore smut,

After 7 years the Radio Demon is back!

But things arent how he left them…

Vox has taken it upon himself to be in charge of all things media

Radio has turned to Video

And Alastor’s little darling aint in her place…oh that just wont do

Your relationship with the Radio Demon was like a match made in Hell.

Alastor was a wild card by himself alone, but you? You never failed to keep him on his hooves?

You had been in the media world looong before Alastor popped up in Hell, having the title (ironic) Media Demon but somehow he managed to bring back the old themes that were once appreciated.

Not those podcasts or vlogs the youth were so prone to do

But things from the good old days.

Things that were considered ancient in the sense of modern tech.

Radio; Talk shows and actual live broadcasts.

Alastor and you quickly rose in popularity in the media realm [(you had a sneaky suspicion it was because he was terrifying and people honesty clung to an overlord’s word)]

You and Alastor had separate broadcasts, but you worked perfectly in sync with one another. Until one day…the Radio Demon disappeared, leaving you to run your show alone.

You did what you could, but the people seemed to miss the charismatic broadcaster as much as you and soon you were approached by Video.

“C’mon y/n, This will be a great improvement to your brand.” Vox smirked as you sipped the tea you were offered. You frowned. You were aware that media came in all formats but you enjoyed the ‘old’ way. “I dont know Vox, i prefer to be out of the camera’s eye” you said. Vox had been begging for years for you to join his team and claiming it would ‘boost’ your reputation. You didnt need a boost. You were THE Media Demon. If anything, you knew it would boost HIS popularity.

“Radio is so old-fashion, video is the future! You should be up to date with these things” he said. You grimaced “i am well aware of the trends, but not everyone likes this new savvy way, it is good to have a little variety”

Vox was getting annoyed.

Having you on the Vees would not only boost his claim to fame, but it would boost his power.

“The people would love to see the Media Demon in the public eye. You use to sing right? How about music production? You would kill sales with that voice of yours”

He was trying to butter you up.

Everyone knew you were a renown singer. A popstar once. You only showcased it a few times broadcasting when it was late at night and were in a mood.

Alastor loved to hear you sing.

“If you made videos people, your image can skyrocket” he continued.

You set your cup down, standing, having heard enough.

“I appreciate the offer Vox, but I will decline. I quite like stereo” and with that you left.

You made your way to the Hazbin Hotel.

To Alastor’s radio tower.

You sighed as you sat and stared at the station.

Maybe i should take Vox’s offer you thought as you collected your topics and put your headphones on.

You turned on the radio and did a count set

“How ya doin tonight folks? Its your favorite radio host and tonight you are in for a treat!” you gave the daily Hell gossip and opened the line for discussions. Letting out a laugh from a few of the responses you finally sighed “I have been offered the damning chance to retire from radio” you started. “I am sure you are all aware that I am fabulous of course, but i mean reverting to video can you imagine? And the audacity of Vox to even suggest just a thing. I think i do quite alright for a media connoisseur” you giggled.

As you chatted away you were unaware of the dark presence manifesting in the tower.

“Dial in im opening the lines to hear your opinions”

You listened in

“I think it could be good to switch it up!”

“Youre the Media Demon you could crush anything!”

“Y/n youre incredible!”

“Video kills the Radio star!”

You were about to chime in when a deep static like voice sounded

“I think you mean Radio killed the Video star”

Your eyes widened and spun around to see Alastor

“A-Alastor?”

His devilish smile sharpened as he pressed a button to cut the lines and removed your headphones “its been a while darling”

You couldnt help yourself as you launched at him for a hug.

You quickly recovered and let him go, stuttering “oh oh im sorry but w-what are you doing here? I-i thought you were gone”

Alastor grinned, bringing your hand up to his lips to press a kiss to it

“Ooooh mon cher i could never stay away from you”

You blushed.

Alastor pulled you into an embrace, his grip a little tight

“So what it is i hear of you forsaking radio?”

#hazbin hotel #hazbin alastor #alastor #Alastor x reader #hazbin vox

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cowboybeepboop · 2 months ago

Text

Magic

"Your hands are... quite magical, you know that?”

Pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x fem! Reader

Genre: Smut

Word count: 4.3k

Summary: Modern reader falls for Thorin and captures his heart.

Warnings: Soft thorin, unprotected sex, handjob, p in v sex

a/n: Idk I’ve been wanting to write smth like this for a while so hopefully it’s good. Let me know if you have any requests and I hope you enjoy. I’m also currently in school so I’m trying to write in my free time but it’s a difficult balance 😣💔

Gandalf had come across you lost and confused, wandering the trails of the earth. You remembered him, his face, from a movie you had seen in your world. “Gandalf?” You called out to him suspiciously.

"Hm?" He looked around then spotted you. "Ah! A human! What are you doing out here all alone in the middle of the wilderness?"

“I don’t.. I don’t know?” You reply, stepping closer to him seeking the warmth of another body.

Your stomach growled, you have been wandering for hours, maybe even days. Your clothes aren’t from this world and aren’t proper hiking attire.

You adjust the skirt of your dress as you stop in front of him. “I’m not sure where I am..”

His bushy eyebrows furrow at your strange, out-of-place clothes, and a bemused look crossed his face.

He took a step closer, noting your exhaustion and the state of your attire. "I can see that. You don't belong here, do you?"

Gandalf assessed your weary state and wrapped his large cloak around you gently, guiding you towards his horse.

"You look exhausted," he murmured, concern in his eyes. "You can ride with me to Erebor. It is not far."

With a little help from him, you clambered onto the horse's back, settling between Gandalf and the horse's broad neck.

Gandalf led you through the winding paths towards Erebor, the mountain's towering presence growing larger and larger through the trees.

His horse carried you both steadily, and after some time, the grand entrance to the dwarven kingdom came into view.

Gandalf dismounted first and helped you down from the horse before guiding you into the hall of the dwarven king.

King Thorin Oakenshield sat upon a throne carved from solid oak, a long, dark beard covering most of his broad chest. He regarded you with quiet curiosity as you and Gandalf approached.

"Gandalf," Thorin greeted. "You've returned. And with a strange companion?"

Thorin's gaze flicked between Gandalf and the strange human standing beside him. It was a woman, but not like any he had ever seen before. Her clothes were unlike anything from Middle Earth, and she appeared lost and dazed.

"Who is this?" Thorin demanded, his voice sharp and suspicious. "And where did you find her, Gandalf?"

You subconsciously hold the cloak closer to you, shifting under the scrutiny of the King.

Thorin's blue eyes, sharp and calculating, studied you closely. The way you clung to the cloak, the slight tremble in your hands, it all spoke of fear and uncertainty.

Gandalf stepped forward, gesturing to you. "King Thorin, this woman... she appears to be lost. I found her wandering in the wilderness, disoriented and bewildered."

“Y/N.” You say softly, “My name is Y/N.”

Thorin's eyebrows raised at the sound of your name. It rolled off your tongue softly, and he noted the gentleness in your voice.

"Y/N," he repeated slowly, the pronunciation foreign on his tongue. He then turned to glare at Gandalf, his eyes narrowing with a hint of suspicion.

“I don’t mean to intrude..” you give the king an awkward smile. “But is there any food I might be allowed?” Your hand goes to your rumbling stomach, your expression a grimace.

Thorin's eyes softened as he heard your stomach grumble. He couldn't help but let out a small, gruff chuckle, amused by your honesty.

"Starving, are you?" he asked, a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth. "We can't have that now, can we?"

He then barked out a command, "Nori! Bring some food and drink for our new guest!"

You visibly relax, a small smile creeping up your lips. “Thank you.”

Thorin's stern demeanor softened slightly as he saw the relief on your face. "It's the least we can do," he replied gruffly.

Nori, a wiry, quick-fingered dwarf, came rushing into the room, carrying a tray of steaming food and a tankard of ale. He placed the tray on a table near you, a sly smile playing on his face. "Here you go, lass."

You reach out and give him a swift hug. “Thank you so much,” you grin widely as you take a seat, eyes sparkling.

Nori's cheeks flushed as he received an unexpected embrace from you. He chuckled and patted your back awkwardly.

"No problem, lass. Just doing my job." He backed away, mumbling something under his breath about "soft humans" as he scurried out of the room.

Meanwhile, Thorin watched the exchange with a mix of surprise and fascination. He cleared his throat, drawing your attention back to him.

Thorin observed you, watching silently as you took a small bite. His penetrating blue eyes studied your every move, his gaze unwavering. There was something about you that intrigued him, but he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

Finally, he broke the silence. "So, Y/N," he began, his voice deep and rumbling. "Can you tell me how you came to be lost in the wilderness?"

“Not really.” You chew eagerly, the cloak Gandalf gave you sliding down your shoulders slightly and exposing your skin to Thorin's gaze.

Thorin's eyes were drawn to the exposed skin of your shoulders as the cloak slipped down. A shiver ran down his spine at the sight of your bare flesh. He quickly schooled his reaction and returned his gaze to your face.

"What do you mean, not really?" he asked, his voice gruff, feigning indifference. "You must have some idea of how you ended up out there, lost and alone."

“I don’t..” you sigh, stopping your chewing as you look up at him. “I just remember falling asleep in my bed and then waking up in a cold dark forest.”

Thorin's brow furrowed at your response, confusion and concern etched on his face. "So... you just appeared out of nowhere?" he asked, his voice edged with skepticism.

He took a step closer to you, eyeing the strange clothes you wore. "And what of your clothes? Those are unlike any I've ever seen."

“I was at a party,” you laugh, looking down at your revealing dress that is less than practical in this situation.

Thorin's gaze darkened as he took in the sight of your party attire, the low neckline and the bare length of your thighs on display. He swallowed heavily, his mind wandering to places he shouldn’t allow it to go.

"A party, you say?" He repeated, his voice a little huskier than he had intended.

You nod, Thorin joins you at the table, encouraging you to eat as he continues to question you.

A few weeks have passed since you arrived, you’ve become a little more versed in the world and palace. Having now met each of the many dwarves living in the palace.

As the weeks passed and you grew accustomed to the palace, he found himself seeking your company more and more.

The other dwarves had grown fond of you as well, especially Fili and Kili who teased you frequently and took every opportunity to make you laugh.

One evening, after a particularly long day, Thorin invited you to his private chambers once again.

You carefully step toward his room, cautious and silent as to not wake anyone. You lightly tap on the heavy door, “Uh your highness?”

Thorin rose from his chair as he heard the soft tapping on the door. He took a moment to compose himself before calling out, his voice gravelly and deep, "Come in."

He stood by the fireplace, the amber glow of the flames dancing across his face as he waited for you to enter.

You struggle with the door, still not used to how heavy doors in this world are. “Fucking hell,” you murmur as you finally get it open, slipping inside and walking toward Thorin.

Thorin chuckled; he found your modern curses amusing and strangely endearing.

As you approached him by the fireplace, he took in your appearance. The low light of the fire illuminated your features, casting soft shadows across your face. He noted the way your gown clung to your curves, and his eyes darkened slightly as he fought to control his thoughts.

"Close the door," he commanded in a gruff voice, his gaze still fixed on you.

The room was large and sparsely furnished, with only a few pieces of furniture placed throughout. The fireplace provided a warm, intimate setting, and Thorin gestured for you to take a seat on a nearby couch.

You close the door carefully, trying not to make too much noise. Having your back turned to the dwarf meant his gaze could wander your frame and each slight movement of your body.

“Thorin,” you take a seat next to him. “Those doors are so damn heavy.”

As you settled down beside him, Thorin couldn’t help but notice the way your chest rose and fell with each breath. His eyes were drawn to the subtle movement of your body, the way the fabric of your gown clung to your curves.

He chuckled at your comment, a gruff sound that rumbled in his chest. "You'll get used to it," he said, his deep voice sending a shiver down your spine. "After all, you've been here for a few weeks now."

You’ve gotten used to being in his room as he’s been teaching you the history of his kingdom, but you’re never here this late in the evening. “Did you miss me?” You tease as you relax into the plush couch.

Thorin's lips curled into a small smile at your playful tone. He rolled his eyes but couldn't hide the hint of amusement in his gaze.

"Don't get too cocky," he grumbled, trying to appear aloof. "I just thought you might want to know more of our history, that's all."

But deep down, he had grown quite fond of your company. Perhaps a little too fond.

“Mm, do I have to learn?” You pout, tired from the day you’ve had. “Perhaps we can just relax..”

Thorin chuckled, his gruff exterior softening slightly at your pout. He knew you had been working hard and was pleasantly surprised by your suggestion to relax.

"Hmm, you want to skip the history lesson tonight?" he asked, raising an eyebrow. "And what would we do instead?"

“I could.. brush your hair! I could braid it.” You offer, not knowing the implications of your suggestion.

Thorin's eyes widened in surprise at your suggestion. He hadn't expected you to offer to brush his hair, let alone braid it. In dwarven culture, it was considered an intimate gesture, reserved for close family or lovers.

But he couldn’t deny that the idea of having you touch his hair was appealing. He found your presence soothing, and the thought of your fingers running through his hair was more enticing than he cared to admit.

"You... want to brush my hair?" he repeated, his voice gruff but tinged with a hint of curiosity.

He shifted in his seat, watching you closely, his eyes darkened with a mixture of desire and uncertainty. He could hardly deny the effect your presence had on him, and the thought of you being so close, touching him in such an intimate way made his heart skip a beat.

“Why not?” You grin while scooting slightly closer to him. “It would be nice..”

Thorin's breath hitched as you scooted closer to him, and he found himself strangely compelled by the thought of having your hands in his hair. Despite his usual gruff and stoic demeanor, the idea of allowing you to brush and braid his hair felt oddly vulnerable.

He cleared his throat, trying to suppress his growing desire. "All right then," he grumbled, his voice betraying a hint of excitement. "You can brush my hair."

You grin, taking the brush from the table in your hands. “This is quite exciting.” You murmur, your hands on his shoulders as you kneel behind him.

Thorin felt the warmth of your hands on his shoulders as you knelt behind him, and a shiver ran down his spine. He closed his eyes, trying to compose himself as he felt your breath on the back of his neck.

"Exciting, you say?" he murmured, his voice low and gruff. "I never thought having my hair brushed would be so thrilling."

“I’ve been wanting to touch your hair for ages,” you softly undo the braids from his hair, your fingers nimbly gliding through. “It looks so soft.”

The honesty and softness in your voice sent a rush of warmth through his chest.

He swallowed, his voice barely above a whisper, "It’s not as soft as yours, I assure you."

The feeling of your fingers gliding through his hair was both soothing and arousing, sending tingles down his spine. He closed his eyes, relishing the sensation of your gentle touch.

You carefully brush through his locks, your fingers brushing against his back as you do so.

Thorin's breath hitched slightly as your fingers trailed against his back, sending a ripple of heat through him. It took all his self-control not to lean into your touch, to feel more of your hands on his skin.

"You... have nimble fingers," he mumbled, his voice gruff and a touch huskier than usual.

“I take that, that is a compliment?” You murmur with a soft giggle as you begin to massage his scalp, the action is something your mom used to do to help you relax.

Thorin let out a low, rumbling sound of contentment as you began to massage his scalp, the tension in his muscles melting away under your touch.

He hummed in response to your question. "A compliment indeed," he murmured, his eyes closing as he leaned into your fingers. "You have a gentle touch. It's... soothing."

“Well, thank you.” Your nails gently scratch against his skin. The pads of your fingertips working at his scalp.

Thorin couldn’t help but moan softly at the pleasure of your touch, the soft scratching of your fingernails sending shocks of desire coursing through him.

He shifted slightly in his seat, trying to regain some control over his growing need. His body was on fire, every inch of him aching for more of your touch.

"Keep that up, and you'll put me to sleep," he teased gruffly, his voice rough with suppressed desire.

“Maybe I’d like to lull you to sleep.” You tease, you adjust yourself, sitting down against the arm of the couch. “Just relax, you can lean against me.” Your legs spread, resting on either side of his body.

Thorin’s mind raced as you adjusted your position, the thought of leaning his weight against your soft body was both thrilling and terrifying. He could practically feel your thighs against his sides, and the thought was both enticing and tortuous.

But he couldn’t deny the aching need in him to give into the temptation of your offer. Without a word, he leaned back against you, his head resting on your chest as he allowed himself to relax into your embrace.

“Are you comfortable like this?” You question, fingers still working in his hair.

Thorin let out a low, rumbling hum of contentment as he leaned against you, the feeling of your fingers in his hair sending waves of pleasure through his body.

He nodded, his voice gruff and slightly sleepy. "Yes, quite comfortable," he mumbled, his eyes closed as he savored the sensation of being so close to you. "Your hands are... quite magical, you know that?”

“They’re good for other things too…” you reply in a suggestive tone.

Thorin's eyes snapped open at your suggestive tone, his body tensing at the implication. He swallowed heavily, his mind immediately filled with vivid images of all the “other things” he wished your hands could do to him.

He cleared his throat, his voice rough and strangled. "Is that so?" he managed to reply, his eyes dark with a mixture of surprise and desire.

“Mhm,” you trail one hand down his chest. “I’ve been told that I’m quite skilled with my hands.” You bite down on your lower lip.

Thorin's heart pounded in his chest as you trailed your hand down his chest, the simple touch sending a wave of heat through his body. He swallowed heavily, the sight of you biting your lip sending his thoughts spiraling out of control.

He couldn’t deny that the thought of your skills with your hands aroused him deeply, but he fought to keep his desire in check.

"Are you now?" he managed to reply, his voice thick with suppressed need. "And who exactly has told you this?"

“They’re not important right now,” you mutter, “my focus is on you, love..” you slide your hand under his shirt, fingers brushing over his muscles.

Thorin's breath hitched at the feeling of your hand under his shirt, your touch igniting a fire in him that he could barely control. The way you referred to him as ‘love’ made his heart clench.

He let out a low, guttural sound as your fingers grazed over his muscles. Your touch was both soothing and arousing, and he found himself leaning into your hand, craving more of your touch.

"You're making it very hard to think straight," he whispered huskily.

“Mm, you’re very handsome my King.” You press a kiss to his temple, your other hand moving from his hair to his chest.

Thorin's eyes fluttered shut at the feeling of your kiss on his temple, his heart hammering in his chest at the simple yet intimate gesture.

"You... you have no idea what you do to me," he murmured, his voice rough with desire. The feeling of your other hand on his chest made his muscles tense under your touch, his breath catching in his throat.

“Let me take care of you..” You move from behind him, your breasts pressing against his back as you move your hand to his trousers.

The feeling of your breasts pressing against his back sent a jolt of pleasure through Thorin’s body, and he let out a strangled gasp. He could feel the heat of you against him, and it was both tantalizing and torturous.

He swallowed heavily, his voice a hoarse whisper as he tried to fight the overwhelming desire coursing through him. "Take... take care of me?" he repeated, his eyes dark with need.

You kiss his neck as you slip your hand into his pants, fingers grazing over his hardness.

Thorin’s breath hitched as your lips brushed against his neck, followed by the feeling of your hand slipping into his pants. His body trembled with need as your fingers grazed over his hardness, and he let out a guttural moan, his head falling back against your shoulder.

"You’re... you’re driving me mad," he managed to gasp out.

“Relax. I’ll take care of you,” you whisper into his ear, your hand grasping his length.

Thorin's body tensed as your hand grasped him, a low, guttural sound escaping his lips at the sensation. He couldn't remember the last time he had felt such pleasure, and the feeling of your breath on his ear sent a shiver down his spine.

He forced himself to relax, his head falling back against your shoulder as he surrendered to your touch. "Please... yes, take care of me," he whispered, his voice hoarse with need.

You comply, your thumb brushing over his tip and spreading his precum. He pulls his trousers down, exposing himself to the cool air, your hand moves around him.

You begin to stroke him gently, your hand moving with a rhythm that you've learned from his reactions. Each stroke causes his breath to hitch, each touch of your thumb sends a jolt of pleasure through his body. "Is this what you want?" You whisper, your voice a seductive purr in his ear.

Thorin's eyes squeezed shut as he nodded, his body reacting instinctively to the exquisite pleasure you were giving him. His chest heaved with each breath, his heart racing faster with every stroke. "Yes," he managed to murmur, his voice a rough growl of need.

You lean in closer, your breath hot against his skin as you whisper sweet nothings that only served to heighten his arousal. Each word was a caress, each sound a stroke of pleasure that painted images in his mind of what was to come.

Your hand grew bolder, your strokes more deliberate as you felt his cock swell and throb in your grasp. You knew you had him right where you wanted him, and the power of it thrilled you.

"Y/N..." he gasped out your name, his body begging for more. He was lost in the sensation, the world outside of the warmth of your embrace and the feel of your hand on him ceased to exist.

Thorin's hand reached up to clutch the fabric of your gown, his fingers digging into the material as he fought the urge to pull you closer, to feel more of you.

Your touch grew more insistent, your hand moving faster as you felt him growing closer to release. His muscles tensed, and you knew he was close.

"I... I need you," he whispered, his voice strained with desire. "I need all of you."

With those words, the last of his self-control snapped, and he turned to face you, his eyes burning with passion as he pulled you into a bruising kiss.

As Thorin claimed your lips in a fiery kiss, his hands found their way to your waist, pulling you onto his lap. The heat of your body pressed against his, and his hands began to roam, exploring the soft curves hidden beneath your gown.

His fingers traced the lines of your corset, desperate to feel more of your skin. Your own hands moved to his broad chest, exploring the firm muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. Each touch, each kiss grew more feverish as you both gave in to the passion that had been simmering between you for weeks.

Your breaths mingled, gasps and moans filling the air as the intensity of your connection grew. The fireplace cast flickering shadows on the wall, dancing in time with the rhythm of your bodies. His hands found your breasts, cupping them gently before moving to untie the corset strings.

As the fabric fell away, revealing your naked chest, Thorin couldn’t help but worship them with his mouth, his tongue flicking over your sensitive nipples, making you arch into his touch with a whimper of pleasure.

Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer as you rocked your hips against him, feeling his hardness beneath you, begging for more. The room grew hazy with desire as you both lost yourself in the moment, the world outside forgotten in the face of the passion consuming you.

Feeling the warmth of your skin and the weight of your breasts in his hands, Thorin's desire grew more insistent, his cock straining against your stomach. He broke the kiss, panting heavily as he looked into your eyes, searching for permission to take this further.

Your eyes met his, dark with want, and you nodded, your hands sliding down to his hips to guide his cock against your wet, eager pussy. He groaned as the head of his cock teased your entrance, the sensation sending a shock of pleasure through his body.

With a gentle rock of your hips, you encouraged him, and he pushed forward, sheathing himself inside you with a deep, guttural moan. You gasped as he filled you completely, the sensation of him inside you like nothing you had ever felt before.

The room spun as he began to thrust, the sound of your mingled cries and the crackling of the fire the only noises in the vast space. Each stroke was met with a whimper of pleasure from you, your body moving in perfect harmony with his, your hips rising to meet each powerful thrust.

The intensity grew, your breaths becoming more ragged, your movements more erratic as the pleasure built within you. Thorin’s hands gripped your hips tightly, guiding your movements, pushing deeper and faster as he chased his own release.

Your nails dug into his shoulders, leaving marks that would surely be visible tomorrow, but neither of you cared. The only thing that mattered was the overwhelming ecstasy that crashed over you both, leaving you gasping for breath and clinging to each other as the world outside the warm cocoon of his chambers faded away into insignificance.

You moaned into Thorin's mouth, feeling his cock pulse and swell as he claimed your body, the intensity of his thrusts increasing. His beard brushed against your cheeks, adding an extra layer of sensation to the already overwhelming experience.

Your own hips met his rhythm, desperately seeking the peak of pleasure that was just out of reach. Your breaths grew quicker and shallower, your heart hammering in your chest as the pressure builds between your legs.

Thorin's hands slid down to grasp your ass, lifting you slightly to change the angle, and the new sensation sent you spiraling over the edge. You cried out as your orgasm washed over you, your inner walls clenching around his cock, milking him for all he was worth.

The dwarf king growled in response, his own release following closely behind, his warm seed filling you as he buried his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot and ragged against your skin. For a moment, you remained like that, panting and trembling in each other's arms, the only sound in the room the crackling of the fire.

Then, slowly, he pulled back, his gaze searching yours, a mix of passion, vulnerability, and something deeper that neither of you dared to name. He cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing over your swollen bottom lip, and whispered, "I never knew... I never knew it could be like this."

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chaos-in-deepspace · 8 months ago

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LNDS: Collared Boys | 18+ NSFW

My brainrot from earlier today refuses to be silenced, so I just had to write some drabbles of this before my D&D session tonight.

Disclaimer: This is an original fan work for “Love and Deepspace”. Do not repost on other platforms or plagiarize. All characters shown in this fic is 18+. Warnings: Sub/Dom Dynamics, Collars, Submissive Men, Minus Zayne, Teasing, Pet play if you squint I guess, The collars are for aesthetic, Boys referring to you as master, Reader is Dom, Attempt at being a dom for Zayne, It fails.

Blog Information | Masterlist

Xavier

"Is this what you wanted?" Xavier asked, looking up at you with half lidded eyes. A tight, baby blue collar wrapped neatly around his neck and a pair of fluffy bunny ears placed delicately on his head, blending in perfectly with his hair.

Attached to that collar was a leash that led back to your hands. He looked every bit as sinful as you had thought. The moment you had seen the collar you knew it had to go on him. The color of it against his skin looked so soft that you couldn't help yourself.

You placed a hand under his chin, making him look up at you, "This is exactly what I wanted, bunny." You cooed, loving every moment of this. Normally he was the more dominant one, so having the roles being reversed gave you a high.

"What do you intend to do with me?" He asked, tilting his head. You looked down, seeing the bulge over in his pants straining to be released. Your hand delicately ran over it, feeling how it twitched under your touch. Xavier let out a small gasp at the sudden feeling of you teasing him.

You had to think on it; there were so many things you wanted to do with him in all honesty. The question was where to begin? You sat on the couch behind you, your legs spreading open as you tugged on the leash.

"I think I should probably feed my sweet bunny. Your eyes look hungry." You said, noticing how the blue in his eyes were being swallowed by darkness. The longer he looked at you, the more tempting you seemed. You did make sure to wear lingerie just for him, after all. He was always more pliable to your whims when you looked this good.

Xavier felt the tug of the leash and he shuffled closer to you, settling between your legs. His hands gently grazed over your thighs as he looked up at you with a soft smile.

"Then should I thank you for this meal?"

Zayne

Zayne looked at the black collar you had just handed up, his eyebrow raised in suspicion as he looked at the size of it. "I didn't realize we had gotten a dog." He finally said, then noticed a small dangling keyring to it. In the shape of a bone was a dog tag that read 'Zayne' on it.

"It's not for a dog, but in my opinion it is for a very good boy who will do anything for me." You said, batting your eyelashes. He huffed in amusement as he held onto the dog tag.

"I don't think this is really...my style." He said, trying to be as gentle as possible. You whined a bit, grabbing his hand and looking up at him with a small pout on your lips.

"Just this once? I wanna see it on you." You begged him and he felt his resolve crumbling. When he saw the slight quiver of your bottom lip, he knew it was a losing battle.

You watch him undo the back and open the collar up and your eyes glimmered with hope. He slowly wrapped it around his neck, working the belt clasps on the back of his neck until it was secure, "I'll only wear this for a moment to amuse you."

You paused, jaw dropping as you looked at him. You honestly didn't expect him to look this good with a collar around his neck. He looked like the perfect image of temptation to you, and you could feel your cheeks warming the more you ogle him. You can see his lips moving, trying to get your attention and you think he called your name.

He waved a hand in front of your face and you finally snapped out of it, looking at him, "I asked if you were satisfied, but from the looks of it I'd say you're happy with the results?" Zayne smirked and you let out a small whine form the back of your throat. Gods you wanted him so bad right now.

You then frowned, watching him undo the collar and he looked over at you, "I will say, you did make a bit of a mistake." He said, the collar coming off him easily.

"What mistake did I make?" You asked, not understanding what Zayne was getting at. You felt the heavy leather wrapping around your neck as he secured it. His hand looped near the dog tag as he pulled you closer.

"You forgot to put a comma and 's' after my name on this dog tag."

Rafayel

"You know cutie, I told you I'd look amazing in anything you threw at me...but is there a reason you want me to wear this?" Rafayel said, holding up the purple collar you had bought him. You had even placed it up in a cute little gift bag.

"Do you not like it?" You asked with a pout, knowing he would fold like a damn chair if you gave him that look. Rafayel smirked, placing it against you neck.

"I just think you'd look cuter than me if you wore it." He teased and you huffed, shaking your head.

"Nuh uh, we're not doin this. We agreed I'd get to top tonight." You reminded him of your agreement. After weeks of you guys literally fighting for dominance in bed (which resulted in a lot of flipping one another over during sexy times), you came to an agreement to switch off.

Rafayel was pouting now, looking at you as he took a step closer, placing a hand on your hip and dragging you closer to him. He leaned over so his mouth was almost pressing against yours now.

"If you put it on, I promise to treat you like my most cherished pet." He said, the hand on your hip giving you a small squeeze. He really thought you'd give in to him tonight? You were on a mission to see this man in a collar at the moment.

"I can put it on another night, but for now I want to see you in it." You cooed, leaning up to press a quick kiss onto his lips. You snatched the collar from his hand and undid the belt clasp. Rafayel sighed, knowing it was a losing battle at this point.

You happily looped the collar around his neck, admiring it as you tightened the accessory. He grunted as you accidentally made it a bit too tight and you apologized, placing a kiss on his cheek in the process. Once it was on, he stood up and backed up slightly so you could take it all in.

"Satisfied with me, master?" He asked, tilting his head with a coy smile.

"Not yet..." You said, looping your finger around the O-ring of the collar. You tugged him closer, making him gasp as both his hands went to hold onto your hips for balance. His pelvis was pressed against your body and you could feel something poking at you, "You hard already, fishie?"

Rafayel narrowed his eyes at you, "I don't want to talk about it."

You couldn't help but laugh at his ridiculous behavior. For all his pouting, he sure was easy to rile up. You gave him another tug, "Well come on, I have plans for you, sweetheart."

He let out a small groan, becoming pliant just from those words. Oh, you were going to have the best time with him.

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emilys-bangs · 2 months ago

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Orion - #14 “I can’t believe you remembered.” I think Emily would remember the smallest details about the ones she’s closest to but gets surprised when someone does the same for her. Could really go any way! Could I just request some fluff for it though? Happy 200 followers! ❤️

Anon you are so so sososo right, ty for requesting <3 I’m so behind in finishing these but whatever I really loved the way this one turned out :) reader is down so bad (me)

Part of the 200 celebration

Word count: 0.9k

In all honesty, you don’t even know what makes you do it. It could be the crisp air, or the warm scent of just-baked pastries lifting your mood, making your shoulders go loose and light before you head to the BAU.

But really, you think it’s the coffee. Freshly brewed and bitterly dark; it reminds you of a pair of eyes ringed with thick lashes, wide under feathery bangs that dip into the crevice between manicured brows.

Just the thought of your coworker brings a heat to your body. You flush under your coat, hands clammy and warm as you reach the counter and order one coffee for you, one hot chocolate with extra cinnamon for Emily.

“And can I have two of those croissants?” You point to the pain au chocolates, thinking there’s no point in handing her a sweet drink without also getting anything to eat. Emily mentioned it a while back, when the two of you were on a stakeout. On cool fall mornings—any mornings, really, but especially those—she prefers a hot chocolate over a coffee, something sweet to give her that rush when the sun is just barely off the horizon. It wasn’t really surprising to hear—she has a sweet tooth to rival a young child’s. That said, you almost never see her with a cup in her hand; she comes in, almost every day, just a few minutes before what could be technically considered late.

You have a sinking suspicion that even if she did end up crossing the line one day, a pointed heel accidentally slipping over it, she’d be able to slither her way out of a reprimand, charming and sly. After all, it’s easy to fall prey to the entrancing curve of her lips, the half moons of her dimples gently digging their heels in ivory cheeks.

The yell of your name breaks you out of your unwarranted daydreams. You blink and find yourself back in the warm bakery, enveloped in the scent of sugar and coffee beans.

God, you need to stop thinking about her.

Which proves difficult when you’re carrying her an armful of breakfast, a smile tingling at the corners of your lips whenever you catch your name scrawled on her paper cup. Pressing the elevator buttons is a struggle, but it’s one you don’t mind as you rise up to the sixth floor and something far more interesting than paperwork.

It’s only when you approach yours and Emily’s joint desks that you remember the others. Morgan and Reid lounge in their chairs, bickering about something you’re sure is too early to bicker about. JJ seems to be locked in her own office, but your stomach preemptively twists in knots at the thought of them seeing the handoff, your hands empty of treats for them.

You inhale a deep breath and keep your eyes forward, not chancing a glance at anyone but Emily, who looks up with a smile when she sees you approach. Distantly, you think it’s unusual that she’s here so early, but the thought evaporates when her eyes brighten.

“Morning,” she says, and her voice is already smooth honey, warm and inviting as you approach. Her eyes drop to the cup holder in your hand, the paper bag gripped between your fingers. “Got anything for me in there?” She teases.

Oh, only if you knew.

“Actually I do,” you smile, irrationally proud at the way her brows lift in surprise. Finally reaching her desk, you set down the cup holder and loosen your grip on the paper bag. “Got you breakfast.” You say softly, almost hoping to keep the words between you and her.

Emily’s mouth parts. For a moment she stares, almost in shock, before regaining her composure.

“Thank you.” She says sincerely. Her eyes are piercing on yours, then trailing over your jaw and cheeks, in search of a reason, no doubt. “You didn’t have to.”

You hum, dropping your gaze before you confess your love. “Yeah, I know. Here,” you pluck out the heavier paper cup from its holder, “it’s hot chocolate.”

Emily’s smile turns incandescent. “It is?” She gasps softly, her pupils blown wide. Her irises turn to thin rings, her voice dulcet and warm, almost as sweet as the drink in her hand.

Your heart flutters.

“It is. You said you like hot chocolate in the mornings.” You say quietly. Somehow, the words sound like I love you. “Uh, thought it’d go well with the croissants,” you mumble, but Emily is still hung up on the chocolate.

“I can’t believe you remembered.” She whispers, her fingers tightening around the cup like it’s something precious.

You shrug and take the opportunity to shed your coat. Heat simmers under your skin, crawls up your jaw and to your ears. “You remember stuff about me all the time,” you say, taking your load and your coat over to your own desk. Pretending like it’s no big deal. Like you don’t want to get her hot chocolate every day, just to see the shine in her eyes.

Emily looks down. She chews on her lip as she pops open the lid, a flush spreading over her pale cheeks. You blink in surprise, thinking you’d imagined it, but the blush remains firm, staining her skin a soft, rosy pink.

“Oh, c’mon, hey.” A voice breaks through the silence. You distantly identify it as Morgan, but you’re too busy tracing the blush with your eyes. “None for us?” He asks; you’re not sure how serious he is.

Emily looks up. Her eyes meet yours, expectant. You look away and clear your throat, swallowing down butterflies as they rise from your stomach.

“Nope.”

taglist: @suckerforcate @sickoherd @lextism @catssluvr @i-lovefandom @haiklya @justhereforthosefics @storiesofsvu@ashluvscaterina @basicallyvivi

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss fic #emily prentiss fics #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss fluff #emily prentiss imagine #emily prentiss drabble #emily prentiss blurb #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfic #fic #eb200

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band--psycho · 4 months ago

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Sylus x Reader x Zayne- Birthday Surprises (SYLUS)

Please be kind, reblogs are always welcome and greatly appreciated!

Thank you all for the continued support! I hope you all enjoy this! 💛

Requests are open so if you have any ideas/requests, you're more than welcome to send them over.

I do not give permission for any of my works to be copied or translated onto this site or other platforms

Part 2

Main Masterlist / Sylus Masterlist / Zayne Masterlist / Join My Taglist

Don't worry there are going to be multiple parts to this story!

Warnings: Possesive and Obsessive Sylus, Love Triangle, Complicated feelings, Sexual tension, Choking (Minors DNI)

Sylus was used to an unusual sleeping pattern; even having nights where he barely slept at all.

But dreaming whilst he was sleeping….that was something entirely new.

The first time it happened, he thought for a brief moment that you were really with him, that was until he looked at the empty side of his bed.

He hated how his heart ached at the realisation that you were only a dream.

He thought that it was a one time thing, until he dreamt of you again the following night.

He’d never dreamed before.

Not really.

Not until he met you.

Then he couldn’t seem to stop.

Whenever he would close his eyes and allow the darkness of sleep to take a hold of him, you would always show up.

Sometimes you’d be talking to him about work; sometimes he’d hear the echo of your laugh in his mind and sometimes you were just simply sitting in a park with a book in your hand…

It was driving him insane, how much he missed you, how much he craved to hear your laugh, or yearned to see your smile…he felt like a lovestruck teenager.

And he both loved and hated it.

He spent the next two weeks like this; he tried not to think about you, but it seemed the harder he tried, the more unsuccessful he was.

He just couldn’t get you out of his head.

That’s when he knew he needed to see you…He knew he had to be careful, he couldn’t just waltz up to you outside of the Association and talk to you.

But the second he laid eyes on you; he knew he couldn’t turn back.

He had to see you today.

And it was perfect because today was your birthday; if ever there was a day to surprise you, it was today.

But his little plan started slowly falling apart when he saw you laughing because of something a dark haired man had said; it made his blood boil in his veins.

He thought about using his evol to just pull you towards him; but they could arouse suspicion, especially from the man you seemed to be so friendly with.

“Boss?” Luke asked from the driving seat; it was obvious to the twins who were sitting in the front of the car that they were going to be following you, but doing so was risky, if they were caught, it wouldn’t just endanger them but you as well.

“Follow her,” Sylus’ baritone voice ordered.

Luke nodded obediently, putting his foot on the accelerator a little, knowing that he had to keep enough distance between you and the car that neither you nor your new friend would get concerned; but close enough that they wouldn’t lose you.

~~~~~~

After about thirty minutes, they were down the road from your apartment; the apartment that you and the mysterious man you were with had disappeared into.

Sylus was leaning with his arm resting on the door armrest; his lips pursed in a thin line as he continued sitting in his car, staring out the window, waiting for the man to leave your apartment so he could talk to you without any disruption.

Sylus wasn’t sure how much time had passed until he saw a raven haired man leave your building; but in all honesty he didn’t care.

As soon as the man was out of sight; he wasted no time in exiting his car and heading to your apartment and knocking on your door.

“Zayne, how do you always manage to forget your glasses,” he heard you call out from behind the door; hearing footsteps hurriedly rush towards the door; making a rage course through Sylus’ veins.

Zayne?

So that was the name of the man she was with.

“Sorry to disappoint you sweetie,” Sylus said with a hoarse voice that sent a chill down your spine, as you opened the door, puzzlement written all over your face.

“Sylus?” You questioned; confused by what the hell he was doing here, especially today.

“The one and only,” he smirked, “aren’t you going to invite me in?”

You were tempted to slam the door in his face; but you knew how stubborn Sylus was, knew that even if you did that, he’d still be outside your apartment tomorrow morning, and that would just put the both of you at risk.

So you moved out of the way, allowing him entry to your home before quickly closing the door behind.

“What are you doing here?” You inquired, folding your arms as you stared at him.

“Can’t I just drop by and pay you a visit on your birthday?” He replied, as though him being here was the most normal thing in the world when in reality it was anything but.

“No,” you answered bluntly, you didn’t have time for this, you were meant to be meeting Zayne and a few people from work for drinks in a few hours.

If you were late, they’d have questions, if you didn’t show up, they’d worry.

“Tsk, if I were a lesser man your words would wound me, sweetie,” Sylus retorted back making you roll your eyes:

You didn’t have time for this.

But you also couldn’t shake the curiosity that piqued in your mind about why he was actually here.

You hadn’t seen him since he gave you a lift back to Linkon City in his private helicopter a few months ago.

You’d texted him a few times, but never got a reply so you just assumed he wasn’t interested in being friends (or more) anymore.

You’re not ashamed to admit that it broke your heart a little; you weren’t in love with Sylus, but you knew that you could’ve…

And being ghosted like that when you thought the two of you understood one another, hurt.

But your slightly cracked heart healed; it was after this that you and Zayne grew closer.

“Sylus, please just leave,” you sighed, pinching the bridge of your nose in frustration.

Why was he doing this?

Today of all days.

“That’s a nice necklace, ” Sylus deflected your plea, reaching out and lifting the necklace off of your chest, allowing him to look at it more closely, “Where did you get it from?”

“It was a gift,” you breathed, trying to ignore how even the slightest touch of his fingers brushing against your skin, made you feel weak at the knees..

“From Zayne?”

Jealousy laced his words and darkened his eyes.

Jealousy was an emotion you’d never seen in Sylus before, but you couldn’t deny that something inside you loved seeing him like that.

“If you must know, yes,” you responded; memories of when Zayne gave you this breathtaking gift a few moments ago, making your head spin.

Sylus hooked his forefinger under your chin, dropping the necklace he’d been carefully holding, allowing it to fall onto your chest, “Is he your boyfriend?”

How could you answer such a complex question?

And how did he have the nerve to be asking it?

Sylus wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t your friend, he was just someone that you last saw months ago…someone that made you want to disregard all sense of logic…

“I don’t see how that’s any of your business,” you bit back; earning a snarl from Sylus in response.

Your relationship with Zayne was complicated; you two would spend time together whenever you could around work, and you would always look forward to spending time with him.

He made your heart feel warm and fuzzy, something that you’d never felt for anyone before.

But you were not a couple….though the words that fell from his lips before he left your apartment were still racing through your mind, making you think that tonight, that was about to change.

“Everything you do is my business,” he growled, moving his hand from your chin and down your neck, wrapping his hand around it lightly.

“My business is my own, who I see in my own apartment, has nothing to do with you,” you countered; trying not to ignore how turned on you were by how his hand was wrapped around your throat, or by how close he was to you….

You felt his grip tighten slightly around his throat at your rebuttal, “It has everything to do with me.”

“You’re crazy,” you choked out.

And so were you, for letting him touch you like this.

You should’ve pushed him away…but you couldn't bring yourself to do so.

“About you, yes I am, and sweetie, I have no problem denying it,” he confessed, brushing his lips against your cheek, “I’ve dreamt about you. Nearly every night for the last two weeks,”

“You dream?”

His admission caught you off guard, you’d never expected Sylus to dream about anything, least of all about you.

“Never,” he mumbled, placing a soft kiss on your cheek.

“Not once,” this time the kiss he left was on the corner of your mouth, you could feel how shallow your breath was getting with every second that passed.

“Not until you,” his lips were hovering inches away from yours now,“And it’s driving me insane,”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” you hated how shaky your voice sounded.

What were you doing?

This was insane….

Were you really about to do this?

Were you really about to do this with him?

Neither of you got a chance to say another word before there was a knock at the door; the sudden sound pulled you back to reality, and you pushed Sylus away, quickly.

“Don’t answer it,” Sylus whispered, grabbing your wrist, “You look so flustered right now,”

You hated that he was right; you needed to take a minute to collect yourself; but that was hard to do when Sylus was still here.

He was still here!

He couldn’t be here.

What if it was Tara at the door….or Zayne…

Zayne….

You felt your heart sink as you thought of him…

Your head was all over the place.

“Y/n? Are you okay?” You heard the all too familiar voice of your doctor ask through the door.

You shot a glare at Sylus who was still holding your wrist with a smirk.

“Hide in there,” you said, pushing him towards the coat closet by your door.

“We’re not finished here, sweetie, just remember that,” were the last words he said before he vanished into the closet.

Tagging:

@xacatalepsyx @fangirlsfandomsss @book-dragon03 @ollieneedsamilkshake @ladyparamount @hotdogcookie @kisukiis @deathkat657 @the-slytherin-poet @evilldentists @cheesemachine44 @thegalaxysedge22 @tasha-1994 @popcorn-mochi01 @worm-in-a-bug @babygirl-panda19 @sunshineotaku

#sylus x reader #zayne x reader #sylus x reader x zayne #sylus imagine #sylus imaignes #zayne imagines #zayne imagine #zayne love and deepspace #sylus love and deepspace #zayne x you #sylus x you #love and deepspace sylus #love and deepspace zayne #lads x reader #lads zayne #lads sylus #sylus smut #zayne smut

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getalltheb1tches · 9 days ago

Text

TWO WEEKS, ONE NIGHT | LN4, OP81

when your ex hurt you so bad, his teammate is always there for you.

lando norris x y/n, oscar piastri x y/n

After discovering her boyfriend Lando’s devastating betrayal, she is left to pick up the pieces of her shattered heart in the glittering city of Monaco. As gifts and apologies flood her doorstep, she struggles to let go of the man she once loved—until an unexpected ally steps forward. Oscar, Lando’s teammate, reveals the truths that cut deeper than she could imagine, but with his honesty comes a surprising confession. Torn between heartbreak and the hope of something new, and she must decide whether to confront her past or embrace an uncertain future.

TW: CHEATING, mention of Y/N! I hope you enjoy this short au, and please remember this is my first ever au, so excuse any mistakes!! this is purely fiction, and please do feel free to leave a comment! hope u enjoy <33

The dim hum of the city outside her window was the only company she allowed herself as she sat in the quiet of her apartment. The soft glow of streetlights of Monaco seeped through the curtains, casting faint shadows on the unopened boxes scattered around her living room. Her eyes lingered on the largest one, wrapped in a sleek black ribbon, its sender’s name unmistakable on the gilded card attached.

Lando Norris.

It had been two weeks since the storm—the night everything fell apart. When she got a text from his teammate, confirming her suspicions. She could still hear the echoes of their arguments, his voice strained as he stumbled over apologies that didn’t match the betrayal etched into her memory. The headlines had done their part too, parading his indiscretion across every screen until there was no denying what he had done.

He had cheated on her.

Lando, with his boyish charm and the grin that once felt like home, had torn through the trust they had built together. The man who had promised her the world under Monaco’s glittering stars had shattered her heart in a single, reckless moment.

Since then, the gifts had started arriving. First, it was a bouquet of her favorite flowers, each petal seemingly plucked with care. Then came the handwritten letters, pages filled with words that tried—and failed—to piece together his remorse. Then expensive clothing, the Givenchy boots she always wanted, extravagant jeweler, anything she could think of and more. Tonight, it was something bigger, heavier, as though the weight of the box could match the gravity of his mistakes.

The texts came with the gifts. The apologies she received every day, among phone calls, were starting to annoy her. There was no point of changing her number or blocking him, he always found a way to contact her. But at least, he hadn’t appeared to her house yet. He knew she wouldn’t appreciate that.

But none of it could undo the ache lodged in her chest.

Y/N’s fingers hovered over the ribbon, hesitating. What could he possibly give her that would make her forget the way her heart had splintered? A grand gesture to overshadow the simplicity of loyalty he had broken?

A bitter laugh escaped her lips as she leaned back against the couch, the ribbon untouched. She had loved him, truly and deeply. The kind of love that left no room for doubt. They have been through a lot, he had helped her in many ways, and so did she. She was always there for him, and all it took for him to break everything was a win in Singapore. And yet, here she was, staring at another attempt to buy her forgiveness.

She’d thought about reaching out to him, about confronting the man she’d once trusted with her whole heart. But every time she considered it, the memory of him with someone else burned brighter, and the courage faltered. No amount of gifts could erase that image, nor could it restore the trust that had been so carelessly discarded.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆. 𐙚 ˚⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚

She leaned back on the couch, her hands trembling slightly as her phone buzzed on the table once more. She had ignored countless messages and phone calls from him over the past two weeks, but this one was different. A video notification from an unknown number lit up her screen.

And then she saw him. Lando.

He was leaning close to another woman, her face obscured by shadows, but her hand was unmistakable as it trailed along his arm, lingering.

Y/N’s heart pounded, the weight of his audacity crushing her. Two weeks of apologies, endless gifts, and promises of remorse—only to find out he hadn’t even stopped. The sting of betrayal felt fresh all over again, more painful than she could have anticipated.

A video. Of him. With another woman. Now she was sure, he was just trying to buy her into his life again, for his own enjoyment and only. The gifts meant nothing, she meant nothing, the only thing he cared about was just to fuck around behind her back.

She has been watching the video for several minutes, unable to stop the ugly feeling in her stomach growing. She felt disgusted and humiliated. A year and a half, all meant nothing to him?

Her phone started ringing, once again. She wanted to pick up, she wanted to scream at him, to curse him, to make him feel even worse. She needed that. That's why she found herself accepting the call, his voice coming through the speaker after two weeks.

"Baby, finally. Please, let me explain-"

“This better be good,” she cut him off, her voice sharp. “Because I’m done playing games, Lando. I just got sent a video of you making out with a random girl, while you were claiming to be sorry"

“That video—it was staged. Someone’s trying to hurt me. To hurt us.” He tried to say quickly, trying to defend himself once again over the phone.

“Staged? That’s the best you’ve got? You expect me to believe that?”

“Baby, think about it. Who sent you the video? Why would they do that? I’ve been trying to fix this, to fix us,and someone doesn’t want me to.”

The sincerity in his voice wavered her resolve, but the anger inside her burned hotter. “Do you even hear yourself? You cheated on me, Lando. You don’t get to play the victim.”

“I know,” he said softly. “I know I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I’m begging you to believe me this time. There’s more going on here than you think.”

The words hung in the air, leaving her torn between disbelief and the lingering hope that maybe—just maybe—he was telling the truth.

"No. I hate you. You hurt me so bad, and you don't even care. You can't just buy your way back to my life. I don't want this anymore! You need to stop, and leave me alone, not keep hurting me" she said quietly, so tired of everything, before hanging up the phone on his face.

Her phone buzzed again, and again, and again. But the damage was already done.

The unknown number kept texting her, saying that her ex wasn't the man he claimed to be. She laughed bitterly, tossing her phone onto the couch. The words felt like a cruel joke. She paced the room, her mind racing. The image of him with another woman was seared into her thoughts, erasing any remnants of the man she had once loved.

Her pulse quickened. The pier? She glanced at the clock. It was 10:16. Every instinct screamed at her to ignore the message, to block the number and move on. Move on from this life, forget Lando, forget everything. But curiosity and the need for answers gnawed at her resolve. What if this was the closure she needed? And if Lando was hiding something, it was time for the truth to come to light. As she stepped into the cool night air, her heart pounded with anticipation and dread. Whatever awaited her at the pier, she knew one thing for certain: nothing would ever be the same again.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆. 𐙚 ˚⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚

The pier was quiet, bathed in the pale glow of the moonlight and the soft lapping of waves against the docks. Her footsteps echoed faintly as she approached, her breath visible in the cool night air. She scanned her surroundings, searching for the unknown person who sent her the messages.

A figure stepped out of the shadows near the end of the pier, their silhouette sharp against the water’s reflection. Her heart quickened. As she drew closer, she realized it wasn’t Lando—it was someone else entirely.

“Y/N?” the figure called softly.

She recognized him immediately. It was Oscar, Lando’s teammate. His face was drawn, his expression a mixture of concern and regret. He shifted uncomfortably under her gaze.

“Oscar?” she said, her voice edged with confusion. “You’re the one who sent me those messages?”

He nodded, running a hand through his hair. “I couldn’t keep quiet anymore. You deserve to know the truth.”

Her chest tightened as the man in front of her spoke. “What truth? About what I already saw? About Lando?”

Oscar hesitated, glancing around as if to ensure they were truly alone. “There’s more to what happened in Singapore. And it’s worse than what you think.”

The girl's stomach churned. “Just say it. Please."

He took a deep breath, his voice low. “Lando wasn’t just with that girl once. It wasn’t a one-time mistake. They’ve been seeing each other for months. Some of us—his friends, the team—we knew, but no one wanted to get involved.”

Her knees felt weak, the weight of his words threatening to crush her. “Why are you telling me this now?” she whispered, her voice trembling.

“Because I saw how much he hurt you, how he treated you.” Oscar said, his eyes earnest. “And because he’s still lying to you. He doesn’t deserve your forgiveness if he can’t even be honest.”

Tears pricked her eyes, but she refused to let them fall. She took a shaky step back, trying to process everything. “Why would you do this? You’re his teammate, his friend.”

Oscar’s gaze softened. “Because I don’t think it’s right to let him manipulate you anymore. You deserve better than this. Than him.”

The words hit her like a punch to the gut. She looked out at the water, the cold wind biting at her skin. The image of Lando, the man she had once trusted completely, was crumbling into something unrecognizable.

“I don’t know what to say,” she admitted, her voice barely audible.

“You don’t have to say anything,” Oscar replied. “I just thought you should know the full truth. What you do with it is up to you.”

She stood there for a long moment, her thoughts a chaotic mess. Finally, she nodded, her resolve hardening. “Thank you, Oscar. For telling me.” He gave her a small, understanding smile. “Take care of yourself. You deserve so much more than this.”

As he turned to leave, she stayed behind, staring out at the dark waters. The truth was heavier than she had imagined, but in a strange way, it felt like a release—a step toward finally letting go.

She heard his footsteps pause behind her. He called her name softly, his voice hesitant. She turned to find him standing just a few steps away, his hands shoved into his jacket pockets. His voice was quiet, almost a whisper, but it held something different this time—something raw. She turned, her gaze meeting his.

“What is it?” she asked, her voice steadier now.

Oscar hesitated, then took a step closer. “I… I didn’t just come here for him. I mean, I did, but…” He trailed off, exhaling deeply. “I’ve seen how he treated you, even before all this. And I… I hated it. Because I knew you deserved better. And I…”

Her breath caught. “Oscar…”

“I shouldn’t be saying this,” he muttered, almost to himself. “But seeing you hurt like this, knowing he’s still lying to you… I couldn’t stay quiet. And I can’t keep pretending I don’t care about you more than I should. You deserve someone who sees you. Who actually puts you first. And I—I wanted to be that person for you. I still do.”

The confession hung in the air, heavy with meaning. Her heart pounded in her chest as she tried to process his words. She hadn’t seen this coming, not from Oscar, the quiet and steady presence who had always seemed like the opposite of Lando’s brash energy.

“You don’t have to say anything,” he added quickly, misinterpreting her silence. “I just… I needed you to know. I’m not saying this to confuse you or to make things harder,” he added quickly, his tone almost desperate. “I just… I couldn’t keep it to myself anymore. Not after seeing what he did to you. Not after watching you hurt like this. Because if there’s even the slightest chance that you—”

Before he could finish, the girl stepped forward, closing the distance between them. She placed a hand on his arm, grounding him. “Oscar,” she said softly, her voice steady despite the storm of emotions swirling inside her. “Thank you. For being honest with me. For telling me the truth.”

His eyes searched hers, a flicker of hope lighting his expression. “You don’t have to decide anything now,” he said gently. “I’ll wait. As long as it takes.”

For the first time in weeks, she felt a sliver of something she hadn’t thought possible: hope. It wasn’t a promise of a new beginning, but it was a reminder that she didn’t have to face the hurt alone. And as she stood there on the pier, the weight of the past slowly giving way to the possibilities of the future, she realized she wasn’t quite ready to close the door on everything just yet.

⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚˚⋆⋆. 𐙚 ˚⋆˚࿔ 𝜗𝜚

thank you so much for reading this!! if you want part two feel free to comment!

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the-winter-spider · 7 months ago

Text

Good Guy | S.H

Word count: 1k

Warnings: None? Angst?

A/N: Yall i havent posted in ages, im still very much active reading everyone elses writings buuut im deciding to go thru and post everything i have in my docs, maybe finally fix my master list 💀🤭 we’ll see! Enjoy

—

You were sitting on the edge of his bed, your legs dangling over as you turned to look over your shoulder at him snoring peacefully while you were holding your breath trying to savour this moment before the reality of what happened last night crushed you.

You knew what it was, it was ‘the world is most likely ending and the girl ive been in love with since high school still doesn’t love me back’ sex. Because there was no logical way Steve had feelings for you of any sort that would make him want to tear your clothes off and litter your bruised and scarred body with such tender kisses, whispering the sweetest of words in your ear, then proceed to hold you in his arms while he falls asleep.

There was no way in any world upside right or down that it was anything more than that.

You sighed, finally pushing yourself off the bed, tip-toeing around his room to gather the pieces of your clothing, ushering as quickly and quietly to his bathroom as you could. You wanted to avoid the mirror so bad, you were disgusted with yourself, not for sleeping with him, no but for letting your self think for a mere second that it was anything but sex to him. In all honesty it was probably just an itch he wanted to scratch, you were probably just a flavour of ice cream he was lingering on for a while something no one else in their right mind would pick but once you’ve tried all the other flavours you were the only one left.

Pathetic. That's all you were, you slipped off his boxers letting your tears hit the ground with them. The cotton fabric catches your salty waters as they hit the tile.

“Stupid, stupid, stupid” you whispered to yourself pulling on own clothes, before sliding out of his room and house.

The morning spring air hit you refreshingly as you closed your eyes, stopping to gather your thoughts for a brief moment, steadying yourself and the whirlwind of emotions going through your head.

You knew you had to hurry home and change to be ready to meet at the Wheeler's house for 9:00am sharp to discuss your next moves with Vecna, and arriving with Steve while you were still in yesterday’s clothes would raise suspicion, questions and leave you open for friendly banter and teasing but more importantly you didnt wanna still be at Steve’s house when he woke up, you couldn't handle seeing the pure regret in his eyes, the shame that would be radiating off of him, surely that would be your tipping point.

You looked at your watch, 9:00AM “Shit” you mumbled, downing the rest of your coffee like it was a shot at a party, you quickly tied the laces on your converse before running across the street to the Wheelers.

You let out a huff of hair, running your hand through your hair before knocking, the door whipped open revealing Robin “Oh! I'm so glad to see you” She grabbed your arm, yanking you inside, “We've been here all but maybe 10 minutes and everyone is already arguing” She threw her hands up “Can you believe that? it's too early for this!” You reached the door to the basement as Robin loudly started troting down “Y/n is finally here!”

You reached the bottom of the stairs giving a small wave and smile looking everywhere but the brown haired boy in the corner whose eyes you could feel piercing into you “Hi” your voice quiet before manurving your way to the side, far away from Steve.

You were sitting legs crossed on the wheelers couch, you could hear a buzzing surrounding you, squeezing your eyes shut, rubbing your temples you weren’t sure if at this point if it was the headache you’ve been nursing for a few days, the lack of sleep, or all the tears you cried this morning in Steve’s bathroom. All the voices of your friends overlapping one another mushing into a single sound.

tick, tick, tick, tick

“So we now know Max is one of Vecna’s targets, we just have to.…” Nancy spoke her voice trailing off as you tuned it out. Their chatter immersed into one inconvenient noise to you, the pounding in your head overpowering the conversation no one cared that you weren't taking part in. Even though you have always been more of a listener, never giving suggestions because someone always had a better one. You were just here to do as you were told and make sure no one else got hurt because they all had families, parents, people who loved them, you didn’t. And if one of your dumb ideas led to the possibility of one of them getting hurt or worse ending up dead, you would never be able to forgive yourself, so you stayed out of it.

You found picking at your pant leg was a better distraction, wasting all the energy you had on making the hole in your pants bigger than it already was, revealing a scar on your knee that you obtained last year running from russians, when for a brief moment the buzzing stopped and your sense zeroed in on the trickling cool wetness you felt on your upper lip and your eyes growing wide as you watched a single droplet of blood land on your jeans.

You moved your hand to catch the rest of the droplets when you looked up your eyes met Max’s, her eyebrows raised in shock before they softened as she watched a tear run down your cheek “Guys” she spoke, her voice could barely be heard over Steve arguing with Nancy that he didn’t want to be a babysitter anymore “GUYS!” she screamed even louder as all eyes turned to her

Steve and Nancy both turned their heads to her yelling “What?!”

Max lifted up her hand, directing her finger to point directly at you, suddenly one by one all pairs of eyes turned to you

“Holy shit” Dustin muttered “Holy shit!” He got louder as he pieced it together.

“No” Steve froze “No, no, no” He was panicking suddenly the room felt heavy, the air was leaving his lungs as he watched blood dripping from your nose.

#steve harrington angst #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington one shot #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fic #steve harrington #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington x reader angst

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lovelykil · 8 months ago

Text

you up?─

ᯓ izuku midoriya

note; wrote this last night and started like 2 more works after that, I never sleep ...

you looked up at your ceiling in the comfort of your warm bed. Except it wasn't really so comfy, and the ceiling was starting to drive you crazy.

you've counted sheep, cats, dogs, pandas, jumping all mights crossing over a fence one by one— and NOTHING !!

you just couldn't seem to drift off into sleep.

looks like Sleepy Land wasn't accepting anymore people.

you flip over to your side and groan lightly, your phone sits on the nightstand, charging. Your eyes move around your dim room, nothing really stood out you've been in this dorm for a couple of months now, it's like your room from your home.

nothing new.

you flip back on your back, sighing in annoyance.

back to that agitating color of gray again.

well.. maybe not for long anymore.

your phone dings suddenly from its place, your eyes are swift as well as your head as you whip it to the side of you. You reach for the device and take it into your hands.

you tap your screen completely unaware that your phone was at full brightness when turned on.

"ah, crap!" You winced, quickly going to fix the brightness and let your eyes adjust as you sit up to rub them.

once they were your eyes flickered slowly, just for a test before going to open your phone again.

you got a message.

izu 🎀

can't sleep?

your pupils dilated, how'd he know? You swiftly looked around your room in suspicion he might be in the dark corners, spying on you like some creep.

you seriously doubt it, but how'd he know?

you write back momentarily.

you ;

are u watching me or smth

izu 🎀 ;

oh no no! I'm asking, but I guess I was right

your cheeks flush lightly, embarrassed. Okay he wasn't watching you just asked a question. But why? You turn your attention back to your phone, curiosity getting the better of you.

you ;

oh, well yeah I can't sleep why

you patiently wait for his response back, your eyes glued to your screen with your flushed rosy cheeks. what could this boy possibly want at 2 in the morning...

izu 🎀 ;

typing. . .

your heart skips a beat, watching that message bubble appear to only disappear within seconds. Your heart sinks, and the sparkle in your eyes fades as well. You rest your thumbs on the sides of your phone case staring at the messages between you and him, conflicted.

he sure does know how to keep you on your toes that's for sure.

you were about to give up on this idiotic nerd and grumble at his teasing behavior before he actually responded back. Your phone was still in your grasp about to turn it off— when you saw his text.

izu 🎀 ;

do you want to come to my dorm? We can be sleep less together?..

your cheeks were as hot as some freshly prepared hot chocolate, your smile was so giddy and nervous you forgot to even reply as you immediately jumped off your bed to find your slippers.

you were so excited the sleep inside you died out, but in all honesty, it was pretty much dead anyway. You slipped on your comfy sliders and reached for your phone. You ran to the door and opened it, your fingers vigorously tapped on the screen.

you ;

on the way 🎀

izu felt like he just had pushed the heaviest boulder off his chest and could FINALLY breathe. It took him all his might to send that text, it sounded so lame but he didn't know what else to say.. nonetheless it worked. He placed his phone on the nightstand beside him and blushed profusely into his hands, that nervous smile made his tummy twist with butterflies.

you were going to his dorm! he was going to finally have a girl in his dorm, the girl he really likes... in his dorm !!!

#𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘭𝘺𝘬𝘪𝘭 ᯓ★#boku no hero acedamia #mha #izuku x reader #izuku midoriya x reader #izuku midoriya #izuku #:33 #ᯓ ᡣ𐭩

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dellalyra · 2 years ago

Text

Family Formation

Summary: Satoru shows up with unexpected young companions.

CW: fluff, mentions of childhood neglect, talks of parenthood and motherhood, the TINIEST suggestive mention of a daddy kink at the end but like SO SMALL

A/N: LORD I’ve not written in 3 years but this was like worming away at my brain and I had to get it down, the dynamic of gojo and reader and the fushiguro kids is just like *chefs kiss* to me and tugs at all the right heartstrings. I have a part 2 idea in mind or maybe a mini series of mothering the fushiguros idk idk maybe, this is like Gojo x reader but also these kids NEED LOVE

Part Two

Your boyfriend of 2 years shows up at the doorstep of your shared apartment one day, looking exhausted and sheepish. Behind him - two children, neither older than 8 but looking tired and slightly rough around the edges. The elder, a girl, sags under the weight of whatever invisible burden she carries as she hides slightly behind her younger brother (siblings, you presume). Without saying a word, to the children or Satoru, you user them all inside.

You introduce yourself and find out their names (from the sister, the boy seems shy and on edge) that their names are Tsumiki and Megumi Fushiguro.

You try to not falter at the surname. You take a quick glance up at Satoru, a wordless understanding that these - these two children, young, hurting and innocent and the kids of the man who not only killed your boyfriend in front of you, but who was subsequently killed by him.

Satoru, the embodiment of charisma and a boy who naturally oozes apparent self assurance looks at you with a look you can only describe as uncertainty.

With a smile, you ask the kids if they’d like some juice and a cookie or a snack. You’d grown up with kids, and always dreamed of the day that you and Satoru might welcome your own. Your maternal streak had gotten yourself, Shoko, Geto, Satoru, Nanami and Haibara into a place where Jujutsu High felt less intimidating, with Shoko often laughing you were born ready for motherhood. Satoru had always known this about you, but in this moment - he saw it in the wordless acceptance of these two unsure, unsettled, unnerved children.

You lead the kids to the kitchen and sit them at the table and serve up two small cups of apple juice and come homemade shortcake you had made for Satoru. Telling the kids to enjoy, and make themselves comfy you walk into the hall, grabbing the arm of your boyfriend.

“Satoru, what the fuck is going on? Why are Toji Fushigoru’s children eating cookies in our kitchen?” You shook his shoulders as if trying to get him to understand the gravity of the situation.

“Well, they were in the hall, then you offered them juice and cooki-“ Satoru was cut of by your stern eyes pointing at him, and the cheeky smirk as he tried to avoid the hard conversation was swiped off his face as if you’d washed it with a cloth.

“The boy, Megumi, he’s a Zenin. A Ten Shadows Zenin, Toji sold him to the Zenin Clan.” He knew you’d understand what he was insinuating even with the short version of the story.

You look up into his glacial eyes, the ones that always held joy and mischief, the eyes of the man you fell in love with by the second year of Jujutsu Tech, the eyes that held the power of a god, and all you saw was determination and honesty.

So, you stood tall, and nodded.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay. They can’t go to the Zenin’s. So, let’s get them comfortable.” And with that, you walk into the kitchen and sit at the table.

“So, do you guys know anything about what’s going on?” You asked the kids, trying to gauge what they understood about the situation, despite being 5 minutes involved in it yourself.

They both nodded, the boys eyes flitted between Gojo and you, steely in their suspicion.

“Okay! So, what do you guys have with you? Clothes, toys, toothbrushes, pyjamas?” You asked, with Satoru smiling at your ever present practicality.

“Uhm, I packed us both a spare set of clothes and a toothbrush that we share and we usually just sleep in our clothes, it’s helped save on laundry for me to do.” Tsumiki replied, serious as a 40 year old.

“Have you been doing your laundry and housework, Tsumiki?” You ask, reaching tentatively for the girls small hand. You see her consider whether or not to tell you the truth of how no adult had been caring for them for some time now, and she had been raising them both. Your gentle smile, coaxed her into realising you were a safe space.

“Kinda, I’m sorry we don’t have many things. I had to use our money for the water bills and new shoes for Megumi because he grew out of his last ones.” When she said this, Megumi blushed, as if he was guilty of the sin of growing and costing money.

“Okay, it’s only 2pm so, Satoru, kids, you can leave your backpacks here so go sit in the car, I’m going to get my purse and jacket. We need to shop.” You stood up, orders given like a drill sergeant.

You glance over at your boyfriend, seeing nothing but pure love reflected in his eyes. As Tsumiki took her brother by the hand, and led him to the car. You walked to Satoru.

“Are we doing this?” You asked.

“What? Shopping?” He teased, tiny small on his perfect lips.

“I mean it, ‘toru. This is serious. Are we doing this?” Placing both hands on either side of his face and lifting his glasses to look at him in his eyes.

“This, Toji’s kids, I can’t let them go to the Zenin’s, I know this isn’t what you signed up for - I mean we’re 19 but I have told these kids I’ll look out for them now. I just - they didn’t ask for any of this.” He finishes with a breath, placing his forehead on yours. Tilting your head, you softly slot your lips against his.

“Not you, Satoru. We. We will look out for these kids. If you are doing this, so am I. I’m with you. Through all of it.” As you say this, you kiss the tip of his pretty nose and forehead. You feel him pull you closer in tight embrace into his chest, no more words were necessary between you both. You were his ride or die, his forever. And he was yours, you could ask for the moon and he’d say okay, I’ll be back with the moon in a pretty box for you. Two puzzle pieces perfectly aligned together. Nothing to be shouldered or dealt with alone, but by each others side.

“Thank you. I love you.” Was whispered, in a moment of pure sincerity and vulnerability from the ivory haired owner of your heart.

“Okay, let’s not keep them waiting, we’ve got lots to get. These kids have nothing, so it’s starting from scratch.” You grab his hand and drag him toward the door. As you slip your shoes on, he leans against the doorframe looking between the kids in the car and you.

“So… I guess you won’t be the only one calling me Daddy now - eh” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, as you roll your eyes and huff at him, walking with car keys in hand, but not without a quick smirk and smack on the ass for the menace you call your love.

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