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courtofjade · 2 days ago

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Somewhere in the Haze, Got a Sense I’ve Been Betrayed

Pairing: Azriel x Archeron!reader, Lucien x reader (past)

Notes: This is my first ever time writing so please be gentle with me <3

She stood frozen as she watched the bolt strike through Azriel’s chest, letting out a sob as he fell to the ground. Y/n grabbed at her chest as a pain shot through her. An internal war raged inside her between the fear of Hybern and the pull she felt to run to Azriel.

The bolt was coated in bloodbane that the King claimed flowed where he willed it. She knew that if they fought, if they did not follow him, the poison would go to his heart. The heart that longed for the Archeron sister since they had locked eyes. Azriel let himself be hauled up the stairs by Cassian and Rhys- feeling utterly helpless. Feyre grasped onto a shaking y/n, who balked at the sight of the arrow protruding out of Azriel’s back.

Y/n was ignorant to the events that had occurred under the mountain, having been sent back to the Mortal Lands with Feyre before they had occurred. She had been told of the things her sister had to do, had to endure, while under Amarantha’s trials. Even though Rhys had made her aware of the things Hybern could do- even though she had been trained by Azriel and Cassian to be prepared in times like this- all of these things had fled her body as she walked into the King’s throne room.

The King mounted a dais carved out of dark emerald- his throne assembled of bones. As she inspected further, her mouth dried. The bones were that of a human. Brown and smooth with age. They all stopped before it, Jurian leering at their backs. Y/n flinched as the throne room doors shut.

The King said to no one in particular, “Now that I’ve upheld my end of the bargain, I expect you to uphold yours.” Two figures emerged from the side door. Feyre began to shake her head harshly as Lucien and Tamlin stepped into the light.

In the chaos that had then ensued between Rhys, Feyre, and Tamlin, all Y/n could do was stare at Lucien. His eyes on her were forever filled with an intense guilt that somehow still couldn’t mask the look of love. Her face slowly began to morph into that of hurt. Of betrayal. All she could do was think to all of those months ago. Of being in the Spring Court. Initially to find her sister, but in the end finding a bond she had never dreamed she would have. His lips began to slyly mouth words that she couldn’t comprehend. His lips. The lips that had once shared his deepest feelings. The lips that had once been on every part of her body. The lips she could no longer look at as her ears perked at the name of her sister.

“You will find, Feyre Archeron, that it is in your best interest to behave.” The king stated. She followed Feyre’s gaze to the door where the King’s guards had dragged her sisters, gagged and bound, before the King of Hybern.

She began to hyperventilate at the site. She sobbed silently at the sight of her eldest sisters, nights gowns dirty and torn. Elain stood sobbing with fear in her eyes. Nesta looked disheveled, hair wild and eyes fierce, like she had put up a fight. Of course she had. She barely let Y/n go back to the Faye Realms let alone let someone drag her there.

How did they get to them? How they know where they lived? She attempted to catch Feyre’s eyes. A way to silently ask her these questions herself. Though Feyre couldn’t meet her eyes. Little did she know that, unknowingly, Feyre had given every detail of their lives to Ianthe. Fucking Ianthe. She knew there was something off about her. She glanced over at Lucien whose face had gone slack.

“She sold out- she sold out their family. To you.”

“Sold out?” The king snorted. “Or saved from the shackles of mortal death? Ianthe suggested they were all strong-willed women, like their sister. No doubt they’ll survive. And prove to our queens it can be done. If one has the strength.” Her breath caught in her chest. “I thought we would have to put up more of a fight for the third. Fortunately you brought her right to us.”

With their focus on the King, none of the inner circle had noticed when a pair of guards had made their way to the youngest Archeron. She gasped as they grappled her and began to drag her towards her eldest sisters. Their heads all whipped towards her.

The King smirked. “I suggest bracing yourselves.” And then hell exploded in the hall.

Power, white and unending and hideous, barreled into them.

Y/n screamed as she was dragged away from her friends. Her family. She watched as they attempted to shield each other from the onslaught of power coming from Hybern. She watched as Mor made her way to him- a feeble attempt of revenge for Cassian who laid behind her, wings torn to shreds.

Azriel cried out in pain. Another gasp from Y/n as a pain radiated in her chest. Mor froze and dropped her knife, it clattering to the floor. Mor backed up as the King rose. He descended the dais, eyes sweeping over the defeated circle. His eyes burned a hole into Mor’s head before moving his gaze to Y/n. He slowly walked over to her- raising a hand to push the hair out of her face.

“What a prize.” He drawled.

Azriel let out a deep growl from his chest, eyes full of rage and pain and he snarled at the King. “ Don’t you touch her.”

The King held her trembling chin in his fingers. Her eyes slanted as she held his gaze, fearful but unwavering.

“Put her in first.” He sounded before turning back to his throne.

Feyre lunged but the guards grabbed her instantly, Rhys soon going to interfere. Before he could he froze in his tracks, hearing Azriel shout in pain as he writhed on the floor.

Y/n screamed as she thrashed in the guards arms.

“Please refrain,” the king said, “from getting any stupid ideas, Rhysand.” He smiled at Feyre. “If any of you interfere, the shadowsinger dies. Pity about the other brute’s wings.” He gave the sisters a mockery of a bow. “Ladies, eternity awaits. Prove to their Majesties the Cauldron is safe for … strong-willed individuals.”

Mor held onto Azriel as he weakly attempted to crawl towards Y/n.

Nesta began to thrash wildly in the guards arms, watching as her baby sister was dragged toward the cauldron. Tamlin said, “Stop.”

The King did no such thing.

“Enough!” Shouted Lucien frantically while reaching for his sword. Nesta bellowed at the guards, at the King, at anyone who would listen. Y/n watched as the King waved his hand and liquid filled the cauldron to the brim.

Y/n continued to thrash and kick as the guards dragged her closer and closer to the cauldron. She fought and she fought- thinking of her friends, thinking of her sisters, thinking of him. He who had taught her to fight and to never stop fighting.

She sobbed as she felt herself being lifted. Felt her foot touch the cold liquid of the cauldron. For a split second, she caught Lucien’s eyes and it felt as though time slowed. He thrashed against the white leash of power holding him back from running to her. From killing anyone who dared touch her. While in his eyes were love and pain and guilt- in her eyes were fear and anger and betrayal. Angry with whatever part of Lucien thought that working with Hybern was a good idea. Feeling betrayed by the man that she had once thought she loved.

She closed her eyes and gasped her last breath before the guards swiftly shoved her into the cauldron.

The inner circle held their breath. They dared not move as they waited for her to come out of the cauldron. But she did not. Nesta’s screams were all that was heard throughout the room.

The King smirked- raising his hand toward the cauldron. “Behold.”

They waited with bated breath as the Cauldron turned on its side spilling out Y/n- as if washed onto the shore. It felt as though hours had passed as they waited for her to move- to breath.

Feyre released a breath she didn’t know she was holding as she watched Y/n gasp for air. She pushed herself up, pushing her soaked hair back to look at Feyre. The room once again stilled. Her skin began to glow. Her beautiful face somehow becoming even more beautiful, and her once rounded ears were now pointed.

She then looked at Azriel, who was laid on the ground trying to find an ounce of strength to crawl to her. He looked up at her as though he felt her eyes looking at him. As she stared into his eyes, it was like she couldn’t pull look away. Her brows furrowed as she felt a tug on her chest. A tug she had felt multiple times before- begging her to go to him. Pleading with her to hold him and to never let go. Except this time, the tug felt stronger. Stronger than it ever has before. Though time continued to move around her, chaos never ending, she reached deep into that part of her to grab onto that invisible force pulling her towards Azriel. And when she did, she felt something inside of her snap.

Through the seemingly never ending pain he had been feeling, Azriel had felt it. He had felt the tug he had been longing to feel since the moment their eyes had met. Back when Rhys had called in the bargain for the first time. When he brought her and Feyre to the Night Court. And for a moment, in the hell that was surrounding them, he felt at peace.

She snapped out of her stupor as she noticed Lucien rushing to her. She let him help her up to her feet and bring her closer to Feyre.

As he stood next to her, holding her up on shaky legs, his heart had not come back to where it had belong since it had dropped. Since he had witnessed the moment between Y/n and Azriel. Since he watched the first love he had felt in a long time- find her mate.

#acotar #azriel #azriel shadowsinger #azriel x reader #lucien vanserra #lucien x reader #azriel acotar #lucien acotar

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imaginationbeyondreality · 2 days ago

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It’s 1:25 am, been caffeine-free for a week now, and still I’m wide awake.

I should have done fellowship after I passed the diplomate exam. Looking back, I do not know why I was so adamant in not going into fellowship. I wasted my time, a part of me voices that. Had I done it back then, I’m finished by now and prolly finished also the return service.

I should have opened my own clinic. Since I did not go into fellowship, I should have done it. But for whatever reason I’ve been telling myself, I did not. Well, to be honest, the thought of it failing is actually eating me up. But, hey! I really need to do it.

She told me the other party was hired because I was late. And maybe because there are times I am indeed late, I felt guilty. But hey! It’s the other way around. I was hired after her. And it pisses me off. Why wasn’t I thinking properly that time. I should have told her that it’s the other way around. I was hired because she is late. I should have told her that, technically, it is not late based on the contract we signed. I should have told her that they should not be having unreasonable demands. I do not work solely for them. I cannot fathom why I wasn’t able to say those things. It makes me hate myself. Ugh!

How do I actually say to someone, no. That I do not like it. That I do not feel comfortable. I dunno. I just thought she should be picking it up. But sadly, she is not.

I wish to be rich. Rich to the point that I would not be worried when I spoil my family. Makes me think I should have taken more jobs. I should have looked for opportunities. But I did not. I chose to settle here and it’s for one thing… convenience.

It’s been so long. And when I opened my account, this is the first thing I saw. Indeed, Allah SWT’s plan is always better. This will get better. I will get better.

And this is the next thing I read.

I should not really be drowning my self into worrying. So, yeah! I’m calling it a night.

#late night #musings #3

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luthorswildflowers · 2 days ago

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Lost love is sweeter when it's finally found

It was their reconciliation after everything with Lex and Leviathan that seemed to give Lena the courage to come out to Kara. She had been closeted for so much of her life that the idea of letting someone in past her walls had felt insane if not impossible. But Kara proved her wrong again, and Lena finally decided that this box would remain open, and she would embrace this feeling head on.

Her queerness was not the only secret she had wanted to concede to the blonde that evening, standing aloft on the Tower balcony together as the sun settled low over the city. This was one of those evenings, where the tenderness of their friendship seemed to pull at something more. They stood quietly together, their elbows touching as they gazed out over the sky beyond them. Lena could only focus on the quiet breath of her “best friend”, her heart hammering in her chest as she realized this was the time to lay herself bare. She had never felt so safe in her life. She was enveloped by warmth from a family that she had to remind herself that she deserved. And Kara was at the forefront of it all, her sunny disposition and bright, bright kindness that wrapped itself around Lena’s heart.

Lena had known for a long time that she was in love with Kara Danvers. It had just taken the pain of heartbreak and the fear of losing the one person she loved most for her to realize that she couldn’t go on any longer without Kara in her life somehow. When Lex had shown his true colors, Lena had known then that she was making a huge mistake, and she would fight until her heart shattered to get back that warmth in her life.

It had worked out eventually, they had taken down Lex together, sending him to somewhere unreachable where he could never hurt Lena, or anyone ever again. Finally, free from one of her lifelong torments, Lena had realized that she was free from that fear too. And it was that first night back together with Kara and their friends that had pushed Lena to decide that she was done letting her fear drive her actions.

As they stood on the balcony together, Lena took the plunge and dared to let her heart win out.

Just as she inhaled heavily to begin her confession, Kara turned towards her, eyes locked on her own questionably.

“Lena, what’s up?”

Lena exhaled dramatically, pulling her eyes away to gaze out towards the city again. “I wanted to talk to you about something,” she began, twisting her fingers together nervously. Her stomach flipped suddenly before she pushed her trepidation down and continued on. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while now actually.”

Kara rested her hand gently on Lena’s arm. “Is something wrong? Are you ok?” she asked, a bite of concern in her voice.

“No nothing, like that. I just needed to – well I just want to say something, and we’ve promised to be honest with each other now since everything happened. And I don’t want to lie to you or keep things – or I mean secrets from you anymore but umm, but –” Lena sighed heavily, throwing her hands up and spinning away from Kara. “God, I didn’t realize it would be this hard.”

Kara’s hands were on her shoulders, pulling gently until Lena turned back around. Lena looked up hesitantly into Kara’s eyes, calming slightly at the reassurance she saw in them.

“Whatever it is you can tell me. I’m here.”

Lena reached out for Kara’s hands, clutching onto her tightly as she breathed in slowly. She was thankful for Kara in that moment, the blonde seemed to have a second sense about her, knowing how to ease those around her with her confidence and consideration. Lena was drawn to it, and she tried to let the feeling embolden her.

“I want to. I really do.” Her heart still thundered nervously, and Lena noticed Kara’s quick glance to her chest as she picked up on the sound. Lena breathed deeply, her shoulders falling downwards as she stared at their joined hands. “I’m just scared,” she continued shakily. “So much has changed between us in the last year. I don’t want us to fall back to where we were before – before Lex. But I want to tell you because – well I trust you.”

Lena still wouldn’t meet Kara’s eyes, but she squeezed her hand tightly, hoping to convey what she was trying to say. Kara squeezed back and dipped her head to catch Lena’s eye.

“Lena. I promise, whatever you have to tell me, it won’t change anything between us.”

Lena chuckled at that, even more aware of what she was trying to say. The desire to tell Kara her other secret was not as strong as her desire to come out. Though she supposed that secret could be revealed in time. Hopefully.

“You might be eating those words in a moment,” she muttered.

Kara cocked her head at that, crinkling her brow in that cute way that Lena liked.

Heaving in a deep breath Lena fortified herself, squeezing Kara’s hands again. “I’m gay.” she said, spewing the words out in one breath. “I didn’t really know for the longest time. I guess I suppressed it before. I mean, I felt different growing up and you know my family isn’t the most welcoming. But being – gay – it just wasn’t even something I thought about or even considered. It wasn’t allowed. But a lot has changed and now when I think about it, it makes so much sense.”

She glanced down again and slammed her eyes shut. They were growing tight behind her eyelids as she took measured breaths.

Suddenly, she felt warm arms wrap around her shoulders and pull her forward gently. Falling into Kara’s embrace was as easy as waking to a morning sunrise. It felt natural and familiar, and she clung on tight as she welcomed the feeling.

“Oh Lena,” Kara said, hugging her as tightly as she could without crushing her. “Thank you for telling me and for feeling safe enough with me to share your truth.”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. It took me some time to figure out. I haven’t told anyone else.”

“I’m glad you told me,” Kara said, squeezing her a bit tighter.

She buried her face on Kara’s neck, realizing that she was shaking slightly. She focused on breathing, and the two of them were silent for a few moments, easily settling into the familiarity of one another.

“What are you thinking?” Kara whispered eventually.

Lena sighed, pulling back a step to wipe the wetness from her eyes. “I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “I mean I was expecting you to ask questions, but I guess considering who you are and who your friends are, you have been through this before.”

“Do you want me to ask questions?”

“I mean, maybe? I’m not sure exactly. This is just all so new.”

Kara grabbed Lena’s hand again squeezing it reassuringly. “It’s ok to still feel nervous about all of this. I think I understand how you are feeling. You feel like you don’t know who you are anymore. Like you should still feel guilty for feeling this way. That maybe you might be wrong because it took you so long to figure it out. Something like that?”

Staring into Kara’s eyes, Lena nodded faintly, her face heating up at how true Kara’s words were.

“I thought you would think I was lying because I was with James so recently. It’s partly why I ended things with him. It didn’t feel real. Most of my life hasn’t felt real to be honest. I felt like something was wrong with me, almost as if I couldn’t feel things correctly or fully. Love never really made sense to me. Not until…” she trailed off at that, thinking about how she had finally come to this realization.

“How did you know?” Kara asked gently.

She breathed out all in a rush, pursing her lips slightly as she tried to put it all into words.

“Everything changed this last year. I’ve never felt so – so vulnerable with Lex around. You and I were on bad terms, and I was alone for the first time in a long time. I had a lot of time to think about myself. Also, Andrea was back and that brought up a lot of unresolved feelings from our youth. Her betrayal hurt me more than I realized, and I don’t know – it’s just –” she faltered, feeling breathless. “I think I loved her once…”

Her voice was strained, and she tried desperately to swallow down a sob. The pain from Andrea’s betrayal had lessened to a degree but her recent realization brought with it a new ache that she was still working to understand.

“Hey, hey Lena. It’s alright. You are not alone here.”

Lena nodded, closing her eyes and leaning into Kara again, who easily swept her up into another hug.

“Losing someone you love; that’s one of the hardest things to live through. Realizing you love them after it’s too late is even harder.”

“You say that as if you have experience,” Lena murmured into her shoulder.

Kara was silent for a moment. Lena could feel Kara’s fingers playing with the fabric of her blouse, clumsily rolling the cloth back and forth as she tried to stammer out a reply.

Lena pulled back softly, looking into her bright blue eyes. “You really understand then?”

When Kara didn’t reply right away, the gears in Lena’s head started turning, and hope flared in her heart so brightly it almost burned. Kara looked like she was warring with herself in her mind. She had a desperate kind of look on her face, as if she were fighting the urge to say something.

“Kara, how much of this conversation is you empathizing with me versus you relating to me?” she asked hesitantly.

Voice quivering, all Kara could say was “Lena.” And how she said it was like the word alone was the most precious thing imaginable. Something so tender and delicate you must hold it in your hands with the most reverent of touches. Something you cherish with a steadfast duty to protect above all else.

Kara said her name like a prayer.

She said her name as if she were in love.

Their breath seemed to mingle together with how close they had gotten. Lena pushed forward just a bit more until their foreheads were pressed together.

“Please, say something darling.”

Shaking her head slightly, Kara didn’t pull away. “I don’t want to make this about me. You were sharing something so intimate with me and I don’t want to take that away from you.”

“Please, Kara.” Lena said breathily. “Please don’t hide from me. You never need to hide yourself from me ever.”

A silence so long yet so short stretched between them, but Lena couldn’t take her eyes away from the woman before her. No matter how hard she tried, her heart belonged to Kara.

Finally, Kara broke the silence. “Do you think it’s ever too late to remedy our mistakes? Is it ever too late to tell someone that you love them?”

“We’ve both made mistakes. Sometimes you have to let go of the past and meet the future head on. Sometimes it takes losing what you love most to realize the truth.”

“And what’s the truth Lena?”

At the beginning of this night, Lena had only intended to share one of her secrets with her best friend. Now her heart was screaming at her to share her most precious secret. And Lena would be damned if she tried to lie to herself any longer.

“I love you Kara Zor-El. I have always loved you.”

Kara was pulling her in before she had finished speaking. The press of Kara’s lips to hers was everything. Kara kissed her with what felt like all the affection and devotion she could, wrapping Lena in the most gentle of embraces as they deepened their kiss. Soon, the soft press of lips became ardent, more urgent and heated as they melted into one another. Lena clung to Kara as tightly as she could, arms warping around her shoulders and fingers tangling in blonde hair.

Pulling back slightly, noses still touching, Kara paused for a moment, a huge grin spread across her pretty face. “I love you too Lena. I’m sorry it took me so long to realize.”

Lena pushed forward again, sweeping Kara up into another kiss. Kara’s hands quickly found her waist, squeezing gently as their lips tried to share every bit of devotion words could not. Small whimpers escaped Kara’s mouth and Lena couldn’t help but smile giddily into the kiss.

They clung to each other like that for a while, sharing kisses filled with more emotion than Lena thought possible. And it almost felt as if they were making up for lost time. Time spent draped in resentment and sorrow that they were just now learning how to shake from their hearts. She pressed her hips into Kara’s, leaving no space between them. Hands wandered as both of them explored this new feeling. Soon all Lena could think about was the feeling of Kara against her, the warmth that bloomed in her chest and the heat that started to pool in her belly.

Hesitantly, Lena pulled back, still clinging to Kara as she took a moment to catch her breath. Kara’s eyes were still closed, and Lena giggled at the blissful look on her face. The blonde opened her eyes and grinned, scratching her fingers up Lena’s back where her hands had unwittingly wandered.

“Hi,” she said as goosebumps erupted across her back and shoulders.

Kara smirked lightly, pressing forward once more with a soft kiss. “Hi there,” she said, pulling back enough to rest their foreheads together.

“You know, I’ve been wanting to do that for a long time.” Lena whispered.

“Me too,” Kara admitted. “And I don’t know about you, but I really don’t want this to be a one-time thing.”

Lena’s heart thudded wildly in her chest. Looking down at the organ in question, Kara placed a gentle hand there, feeling the rhythm as it beat loudly. Her touch was solid and steady, and Lena leaned into it. There was no going back. And she honestly didn’t want to.

“I don’t think I could survive without you in my life. I’ve never felt something like this before. You, me, together. It feels real, Kara. I want to try being “us” again. I want to see if we could be more.”

Her feet left the ground as Kara wrapped her arms gently around Lena’s waist. They were hovering off the floor, Kara’s strength more than enough to hold them both aloft. The sun had set below the horizon and the lights from the city twinkled around them in the cool evening breeze. Lena nestled her head into Kara’s neck, breathing in the warm scent that could only belong to the woman she loved.

“Forever,” Kara whispered into her hair. “Until the last star of the last galaxy in the universe fizzles into dust, I will love you forever.”

AO3

#supercorp fanfic #supercorp #lena luthor #kara danvers #supergirl #this is my first time posting a fic to tumblr #this is how I'd imagine Lena would come out to Kara #set sometime after season 5 completely ignoring season 6 in its entirety

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msschemmenti · 23 hours ago

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girl in danger

part one

summary: JJ and Emily’s Southern Belle is in danger.

a/n: trying my hand at a bit of angst and suspense with my southern belle reader. i’m not exactly sure how this is going to go but i’m excited for the challenge. this takes place before “under one roof” and after the end of “girl next door” — this is all apart of the Sugared and Sweetied series on ao3

Monday. April 28th - The ass-crack of dawn

“Make it stop,” Emily murmured, burrowing further into Y/n’s back. There was no way it was time to get up for work. She felt like she’d only closed her eyes 30 minutes ago, there had to be more time in bed. More time wrapped around her girlfriends. The weekend couldn’t possibly be over already. But as the ringing alarm continued and the youngest of the three roused awake she knew her time was up.

She and JJ had stumbled in from a case just after 2 and persuaded Y/n to come spend her last few hours of sleep with them in their bed. And as the alarm was shut off, Emily recalled the younger woman’s warning about having to be up early to start her day. In a last-ditch effort to cling to the comfort, Emily pulled the younger woman back into her chest and kissed her bare shoulder. “Five more minutes.”

Y/n grinned sleepily, allowing the older woman to snuggle her a bit more but sigh shook her head nonetheless. “I told you last night. If I came over I’d have to go home early to get ready for the day.”

“Yeah, but do you really have to?” Emily urged, eyes already closed again.

JJ, who hadn’t even flinched when the alarm went off, finally lifted her head from Y/n’s chest with a pout. “Shh, too much talking.” Y/n rolled her eyes affectionately and placed a kiss on the sleepy woman’s head then finally untangled herself from her girlfriends. Both women whined tiredly and peeled their eyes open to watch the younger woman collect her things. “The weekend is too short,” JJ grumbled.

“I’m sure spending it chasing serial killers and on a plane didn’t help it feel long either. But go back to sleep, I’ll lock the door behind me.” Y/n waved over her shoulder as she shimmied back into her pajamas. “You can still get a few hours before heading in.”

“Will we see you tonight?” JJ asked hopefully. Their late return had secured them a late start and a week off rotation.

“Yep, but you might get in before me. I’ll pop over when I get home. Now give me some sugar so I can start my day properly.” Y/n kneeled on the edge of the bed with puckered lips.

“As I’ve expressed for the whole semester, in order to pass this class y’all will be required to participate in the departmental recital at the end of the year. Now for most of you, we’ve been working on your piece during performance class for the last few months. But there are three of you, I just haven’t been able to convince to workshop in class.” Y/n addressed the class, leaning against the piano in the choir room. She was three weeks out from finishing her first year teaching here in DC and this recital was marking the start of her summer. “With that being said, can I get three volunteers for next week's performance class?”

Y/n surveyed the room for the three students she was hinting at. She’d hoped they’d take the bait without her calling them out, but she was sadly mistaken when neither of them met her eyes. She’d worked with most of them individually over the semester, but apparently, something about being workshopped in front of your peers just really wasn’t appealing to them. At the silence, she pulled her notebook out to confirm the three students who still hadn’t volunteered for class. She read the three highlighted names over in her head and tried to smile out at them as she gazed at the class. “Claire, Matt, and Jordan. You three are the only ones who haven’t done the seminar this semester. And in case anyone’s forgotten– you’ve gotta do seminar at least once to pass Class Voice. Since the recital is coming up, let’s go ahead and put y’all down for next week, so I don’t have to give anyone a zero. Sound fair?” All three students nodded solemnly and Y/n sighed sadly. “Listen, I’m willing to throw in some extra lessons before next week”s class. You’ll just need to let me know when. Anything you need to help get you ready for workshop and then the recital.” She got some grunts of agreement and shook her head in amusement at her students. College students really had a way with words. “Alright, that’s all for today. Claire, Matt, and Jordan just let me know if you want some extra time. Have a good one y’all.”

Everyone gathered their things quickly, eager to take any and all extra time they could get with finals right around the corner. Y/n watched most of the students leave and grabbed her things to head for her office. The room quieted behind her and she slung her bag over her shoulder ready to leave, only to come face to face with Matt still sitting in his chair. Y/n jumped a bit with a cautious and uneasy smile. “Oh Matt, did you need something?”

The younger man’s eyes widened as if he was shocked he was being addressed, but stumbled over a reply. “No, not really.” His cheeks seemed to glow under Y/n’s attention and his eyes roamed the room wildly. When he moved his hand to the back of his neck to pull at the loose hair there, Y/n furrowed her brows in concern.

“Honey, are you okay? You’re looking bout as red as your shirt.” Matt huffed out a laugh and seemed to get even more flustered but he shook his head nervously. “Well alright, let me know if you wanna work on your song sometime.” When the student nodded, Y/n smiled and exited the classroom heading up the stairs for some planning before her next class.

“Claire, how about we work tomorrow, and Jordan we work Thursday? I’ve got a rehearsal with the faculty Wednesday night.” Y/n asked scanning her calendar for the week. Both girls nodded their understanding and pulled their planners out to note the addition to their week.

“Thanks, Professor Y/Ln. My last class is over at 5:30, what time should we plan to start?”

“Can you do 6? That way I can get you out of here before dinner time.”

“That works, I’ll let Miguel know and see if he can swing it.”

“Great, same time Thursday for you Jordan?” Jordan nods with a salute and both she and Claire head for the door. Y/n brought all her open tasks for the day to a close and gathered her things to return home. She’d already gotten a message from Emily and JJ saying they’d picked up dinner and were waiting for her return. So there really wasn’t any reason for her to stick around longer than she had to. With food and some loving on her mind, she burst through her office door, eyes cast down on her keys. What she hadn’t expected was a wall of a person to be waiting for her outside. Again, Matt stood eyeing Y/n. She eyed the guy in confusion with one hand on her keys and the other on the door. He really seemed to move silently. “Hello again, Matthew. You’re a quiet one, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” the kid nodded, hands tightening around the strap of his backpack subtly. “I was hoping we could go through my piece for the performance class. And the recital.”

Y/n let her eyes float to the hall clock behind Matt’s head and tried to convey some sort of sympathy toward the student. It was going on 8 pm and again, she had dinner and loving waiting for her. She flashed him an apologetic smile before speaking, “I’m sorry Matt, I was heading home for the night. I’ve got some guests waiting for me tonight. Tell ya what, come by sometime tomorrow and we can find a day to work on your piece, okay?” Y/n locked her office and started heading down the hall hoping to inspire Matt to start moving as well.

Matt followed down the hall and coughed out a response, “Uh yeah! Sure. I’ll stop by tomorrow between my classes. Sorry I came so late today, time just got away from me in the lab.”

They came to a stop at the end of the hall, Y/n heading for the faculty parking lot and Matt the front door. Sliding her phone from her purse, Y/n waved him off easily. “Don’t worry about it Matt. I'll see you tomorrow. Have a good night!” She gave him one last wave and exited the building to head home to her girlfriends.

“Honeys, I’m home!” Y/n grinned, tossing her purse and work things by the door in favor of seeking JJ and Emily out. She found JJ first, nestled in the corner of the couch with a movie paused on the tv. Y/n flopped almost on top of JJ with a content sigh.

“Welcome home baby.” JJ grinned down at the younger woman pulling her snuggly against her chest. Emily exited the kitchen shortly with three bowls stacked in her hands and laid them out for them on the coffee table.

“Does it feel weird getting in after us?” Emily laughed, watching as Y/n all but purred as JJ ran her fingers soothingly over her back.

“I don’t like it.” Y/n pouted and turned her head from JJ’s neck. “I would’ve been here sooner but everyone is obsessed with me or something. Three students in my office after 7? That’s about as pleasant as a poke in the eye with a sharp stick.”

Both JJ and Emily rolled their eyes and laughed, adding that one to the ever growing list of absolutely absurd things that came out of the younger woman’s mouth. “Oh yeah, that sounds bad. What did they need?”

“We were scheduling some extra lessons to help them through their stage fright. I’ve been telling them all semester that they have to perform in order to pass the class and now we’re three weeks out and now they’re all shakin like a leaf in a hurricane. So I offered some of them some extra help with their pieces.” Y/n explained turning fully in JJ’s arms to face Emily.

“So you told them to come by your office?” JJ asked skeptically.

“Well yes, I have to. That doesn’t mean I thought they’d actually do it. I’ve been saying this all year long and no one has actually done it. Especially not after 5.” Y/n grumbled.

“Right, right. How dare they do what you ask.” Emily teased, passing the bowls to the women with a smile.

“I know you’re being sarcastic but yes how dare they. Now I’ll probably be coming in after y’all for the rest of the week at least. The balance of the world has shifted.”

“Order must be restored!” JJ jokingly cursed, waving her free hand in the air dramatically.

Y/n frowned and flicked JJ’s thigh, “For people who were begging to have me over just this morning, I’m getting a lot of teasing and not enough kissing. I’ve been here for what? 20 minutes and neither of you has used those smart mouths for good.” Both JJ and Emily fought to keep their laughter at bay but both puckered their lips to meet their girlfriend’s lips where she laid. “Now that’s more like it.”

#emily prentiss x reader #jennifer jareau x reader #jemily x reader #gnd fanfic universe #gnd series universe #msschemmenti

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shrimptacodaniels · 19 hours ago

Text

when life gives you letters…

come out to your estranged younger brother.

(that’s how the phrase goes, right?)

enjoy ;)

—

Brendan Michael Hahn was better than anyone at letting things go. He had been since birth. Never much of a crier, just a sweet, agreeable baby.

“Like water off a duck’s back,” his father would marvel, watching young Brendan topple over and get right back up. “The kid just lets life happen.”

Here’s the thing about letting life happen - too often, it turns into life passing you by.

Somehow, life’s led them straight to the post office.

Somehow, even though they’re already here, Brendan can’t get out of the car.

They groan in frustration. Taking life by the balls is hard. But their friends and their partner and their therapist and…well…a centaur and a chauffeur and a Renaissance painter (and their high school principal) are rooting for them. So.

“Okay, let’s look at this one more time,” they mutter to themselves. Coaching themself through scary steps has proven to be very effective. Hands shaking, they unfold the letter once more.

Hey brother,

We haven’t talked in a while. Really, ever. You don’t know me for who I am. I’m sorry I never showed you, but I’m ready now.

This is Brendan. Your older sibling. Surprise!! Not a guy. I guess that’s the first thing you wouldn’t know about me - that I’m nonbinary. I’ve never come out to someone in a letter, sorry if this is awkward. But that’s a good place to start. I think.

I’m living in Los Angeles right now. Not too far from home. You got out of here, though! Good for you. You’re not missing much. LA’s mostly drugs and homeless people and comedy shows. Those sound fun - I haven’t been to one yet. Maybe someday.

Dropped out of college my Sophomore year. It wasn’t for me - I was always good at school growing up, you know that, but I needed a change. I apprenticed under an electrician and I have my own practice. Film was the dream. I still think about it, sometimes. But it might be time to let that go.

In happier news, I’m in therapy! Had a…very interesting intervention from some old friends. And now I’m really working on myself.

I’ve started watercolor painting at Griffith Park (remember Griffith?) I’ll walk around in the observatory sometimes, too. It’s a good way to meet people (which I need to get better at).

Enough about me. You probably don’t need an older sibling now. You’re grown up - Ma says you’re doing well. Are you? You were always a smart kid. It’d be nice to hear you yell at me again. That sounds weird. Sorry. I just miss you.

Remember your stint in Mock Trial? You were a Defense Attorney as a freshman, which really freaked you out. That ever go anywhere? You were good. Didn’t have anything to worry about.

All that to say, I want to get to know you. I think that’s long overdue. If you don’t want that, though, I’d understand. So consider this an open invitation - take it or leave it. Ball’s in your court, Josh.

Love you.

-Brendan

It’s awkward. It’s earnest.

“But it’s honest,” they whisper. That’s more than enough.

The letter gets tucked away, and with a stamp stuck squarely in the corner, they’re ready. They lock the car doors behind them as they walk up to the entrance.

It’s not too busy inside. Just a little stuffy.

Now or never.

They run their thumb along the envelope’s edge once more, and let it go.

Lets it go and go and go until it’s safe in the hands of an unsuspecting Joshua Azriel Hahn. He’s frozen on his own doorstep.

“Hey, love?” he calls to his girlfriend, unable to tear his eyes away from the letter. “Can you come here?”

And they read it together, jammed on his couch, because he’ll need to talk about it all after he’s done. He insists she needs all of the context. She’s just happy he trusts her.

“You gonna write him back?” Rachel asks, resting her cheek atop his head.

“Maybe.” He sighs. “Grudges suck, anyway. There are better things to hold on to.”

Like a plane ticket, which is what Josh buys not even a week later. He packs his bags in the very early morning and kisses Rachel soundly as he leaves. This is a trip he’ll have to do alone.

Katrina drives him to the airport.

“Scared?” she asks, because she sees right through him, even in the dark.

“Little bit.”

She nods, keeping her eyes on the road. There’s nothing to say, really. Most people would cut in with a placating “nothing to worry about” or “just take a deep breath.”

Katrina’s not most people. She lets the silence speak for itself. Josh knows she only asked because he needed to hear himself admit out loud that, although spontaneous, this trip isn’t easy. And that, even after acknowledging the fact of the matter, things were still okay. Hell, things could be better than okay.

So yeah. He loves his best friend, honors her choice, and lets the sweet silence linger.

Not for long.

“Wakey, wakey!” she sings shrilly at him once they’ve pulled up to his check-in point. “We’re here.”

He smiles softly at her antics, pulling her in with one arm to rest his head against hers.

“Don’t kill anyone while I’m gone.”

“Duh,” she snorts. “Who would my alibi be?”

“Right answer.” He draws back, lifting his backpack and opening the truck door in one fluid motion. “Drive safe.”

“Always.”

“Well-“

“Don’t,” she warns. “Don’t even start.”

“Love you.”

“Love you more.”

“Love you mos-“

But she’s reached to shut the door in his face before he finishes. He flips her off through the window. She honks twice in retaliation, then weaves her way into the traffic.

Yeah, he thinks as he walks through the airport’s automatic doors, this’ll be fine.

—

Brendan’s just settled down to eat when someone rings the doorbell. They let it ring out for a moment, taking the time to ponder who it could be. One tap of their phone confirms it’s not one of their friends - they’ve got no new notifications. Weird. They shuffle to the door, squinting through the peephole.

They can’t breathe. Frantically, they fumble to open the door.

“Brendan?” the visitor starts nervously. “I’m your-“

Brendan throws their arms around him before he can properly introduce himself.

“Hi.”

There’s a startled silence before either sibling can speak.

“You look just like Dad,” Brendan whispers, “In a good way.”

A startled laugh rumbles from Josh. “Thanks? You look nothing like him. In a really good way. Got lucky.”

The pair exhale a half-chuckle at the same time. Same timbre. Like they haven’t forgotten how to be a family.

Wow. Maybe you never forget.

(Maybe there are some things you always hold on to.)

#pibe fanwork 2025 #they said “brendan you gotta come out”#and I took that personally #pibe #pibe fanfic #i could talk about this piece for hours #Ross’s guest characters are consistently so iconic

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waynes-multiverse · 2 days ago

Text

Oh, I'm so giddy to read this chapter, I'm squealing 😆😆😆

Dean had kissed you back. And not in some startled, accidental way. No, he kissed you like he meant it. Like one of those cocky heroes in the guilty pleasure romance novels you kept hidden on your bookshelf. Hands gripping you like he couldn’t bear to let go. Like he wanted to devour you. Your stomach flipped. For a second—just a second—you let yourself remember the way his lips had felt, the roughness of his stubble, the way he had pulled you closer, like— Nope. Absolutely not.

I loved this entire inner monologue and her reliving everything (plus that nasty hangover lol)! I'm glad she realized Dean kissed her back, though. Wondering if their first meeting will be awkward as hell or if they get over it quickly. Since there's smut in this chapter, I'm guessing the latter 😂🫶

You’d had too much to drink. You were disappointed, frustrated, and let’s be real—desperately overdue for a good lay. And Dean? Well, he was there. Familiar. Safe. Willing.

Yes, but what were his motivations, you fool!!! I yell at the screen, into the void where these idiots will never hear me...

It wasn’t some deep, long-suppressed thing.

Uh... Yeah, it is!!! I swear, Abbie, I will not survive this series. The amount of times I wanted to slap her in this scene... 😂🤌

Dean was already there, leaning against the counter with a mug in hand, his gaze unfocused.

Oh, homeboy's been brooding, I see 😆

I absolutely love this little tidbits about their past and their friendship and their families. You can feel the familiarity and love between them 🩵

Your eyes lit up when you pulled out a tub of rocky road ice cream.

Always rocky road! That's the hill I die on! 🫶

And just then, as if on cue, the TV blared Joey Tribbiani’s infamous line: "Joey doesn’t share food!"

10/10 for Friends references 😆⭐️ (And I saw your gif at the end – this scene has been living rent-free in my head since it first aired lmao)

His expression was raw, wrecked—like you had all the answers, and he was desperate for them.

Loved this line!

“I don’t want to think about politics right now,” you confessed breathlessly against his lips.

This wasn’t about feelings or what-ifs. This was heat and need, two people chasing a high neither of them was willing to resist.

Oooof, that smut was deliciously hot, friend 😮‍💨🔥 And still so sweet and loving and caring in between 🥹 Their connection and chemistry is undeniable. Get married and have kids already lol

“The way I see it, neither of us wants the hassle of a relationship,” you continued, keeping your tone light, matter-of-fact. “I mean, you’ve said it yourself—you don’t do relationships. And I’ve kind of… given up on the idea.” You gestured vaguely between you. “So why not just—enjoy this? No strings, no expectations. Just… fun.”

I knew it was going there obviously from the title of this story, but Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, I wanna kill these sweet little idiots 😂😂😂

I'm done (for now lol). It's been a great pleasure yelling at you this week, Abbie! Can't wait to do it next week all over again 😆🩵🩵🩵

The Arrangement - Part Two

Pairing: Dean x reader

Summary: It's the morning after, you and Dean are both reeling, respectively, from the previous night. Can you both overcome the incident, or is more trouble awaiting?

Word Count: 5.4k

Warnings/Tags: SMUT!!! (18+ONLY!!!) The usual angsty thoughts, will these two ever get it? Swearing

AN: Happy hump day! 🐫 We're still only just brushing the surface with these two, but I hope you enjoy ☺️.

Main Masterlist

Series Masterlist < Catch up here!

The next morning, you woke with a painful groan, the pounding in your skull like a jackhammer. Even with your eyes still shut, you could feel the dull, relentless ache radiating through your entire head. When you finally pried them open, you grimaced at the sticky sensation of last night’s makeup clinging to your lashes.

Rolling onto your back, you immediately regretted it—your stomach lurched in protest, reminding you exactly why you were never drinking again. Not this time. Not after this hangover. The night felt like a blur, fragments slipping through your fingers as you struggled to piece them together.

The first thing that came back was your awful date. Monday was going to be awkward as hell at work, but you didn’t regret a damn thing. The look on his face after you ruined his expensive white dress shirt with that tasteless glass of rosé— the one he ordered for you—was worth it. A smirk tugged at your lips at the memory.

Then you remembered heading to the bar to see Jo and Ellen. Like always, you and Jo went one drink too far.

Something nudged at the back of your mind, a strange pulse in your chest as you reached for the rest of the night. The fog lifted slightly as your phone buzzed on your nightstand, but it wasn’t the screen that caught your attention. It was the bottle of Tylenol and the glass of water sitting beside it.

And just like that, everything came crashing back.

Oh God.

You kissed Dean.

Your headache surged as if your body was punishing you for your stupidity. You kissed your best friend. Were you really that desperate? That starved for affection that you had to go and make a move on Dean of all people?

But then—amidst the spiral of regret and sheer mortification—another thought surfaced.

Dean had kissed you back.

And not in some startled, accidental way. No, he kissed you like he meant it. Like one of those cocky heroes in the guilty pleasure romance novels you kept hidden on your bookshelf. Hands gripping you like he couldn’t bear to let go. Like he wanted to devour you.

Your stomach flipped. For a second—just a second—you let yourself remember the way his lips had felt, the roughness of his stubble, the way he had pulled you closer, like—

Nope. Absolutely not.

You shook your head, pushing the thought away. It wasn’t a big deal. It couldn’t be.

You’d had too much to drink. You were disappointed, frustrated, and let’s be real—desperately overdue for a good lay. And Dean? Well, he was there. Familiar. Safe. Willing.

That was all.

It wasn’t some deep, long-suppressed thing. It wasn’t because you’d been secretly wondering about him for years, how the way he touched you, kissed you, made every single rumour you’d heard about him feel a hell of a lot more believable.

The whispers. Those hushed conversations in the school hallways. The restroom stalls where Karen Jones once gushed about your best friend’s talented mouth and fingers.

How on the rare occasion Dean had brought someone home, well… you weren’t proud to admit that the muffled sounds through the walls had left you pressing your thighs together, wondering just what he was doing in there to make them moan like that.

No. Nope. Dean was your best friend. That was sacred.

The idea of being anything more? Terrifying.

And besides, he’d been drinking, too.

That’s all it could be.

Dean didn’t look at you like that. Not really. He would’ve done the same with any other girl, right? It wasn’t special. It didn’t mean anything.

And the best thing to do now? Pretend it never happened. If Dean brought it up, you had the perfect excuse—"I was drunk, I had no idea what I was doing."

Yeah. That would work.

You sighed, scrubbing a hand over your face before reaching for the Tylenol. The mirror across the room reflected the mess you’d become—wrinkled dress, tangled hair, smudged makeup making you look half-raccoon.

First things first. A hot shower.

Then, you’d figure out how to face Dean without losing your goddamn mind.

Stepping out of the shower, you felt marginally more human—though your headache still throbbed behind your eyes, and the exhaustion clung to your bones. You wrapped yourself in a towel, rubbing at your damp hair with another as you padded into your room. Every movement felt sluggish, like you were wading through molasses.

Maybe coffee would help.

You threw on a pair of sweatpants and an oversized t-shirt, too drained to care about much else. The smell of freshly brewed coffee drifted into your room as you cracked open the door, coaxing you toward the kitchen like a siren’s call.

Dean was already there, leaning against the counter with a mug in hand, his gaze unfocused. The sunlight filtering through the blinds cast a soft glow on his face, highlighting the faint crease between his brows. He looked deep in thought, his fingers curled around the ceramic like he needed something to hold onto.

Then he spotted you, and just like that, the quiet weight in the air lifted. A slow smile tugged at his lips, easy, familiar—but there was something behind it. Something you couldn’t quite place. Uncertainty? Hesitation?

"She’s alive," he teased, breaking the silence.

You rolled your eyes, the tension in your shoulders easing just a little. See? This is fine. It’s normal. We can handle this.

"Barely," you muttered, shuffling toward the kitchen island.

Dean pushed off the counter, already reaching for another mug. "Figured you’d need this."

He poured you a cup and slid it toward you as you climbed onto one of the barstools, elbows resting on the counter, head in your hands. You let out a low groan, still feeling like death warmed over.

"I swear to God, I’m gonna kill Jo for encouraging my alcoholism," you grumbled.

Dean huffed out a chuckle. "Yeah, good luck with that. She’d take you down first.”

"That’s fair," you sighed dramatically, taking a careful sip of coffee. The warmth seeped through you, dulling the sharpest edges of your hangover.

Dean leaned his hip against the counter, watching you over the rim of his mug. “Sam messaged me this morning, reminding me. Is Ellen still making her famous stuffing for Christmas next week?"

You perked up slightly, grateful for the normalcy of the conversation. Okay, good. This is good. Normal.

"Yeah, of course. She said she’s already prepping. Swore up and down she’s gonna outdo last year."

Dean smirked. "Doubt it. That was peak stuffing."

"You say that every year."

"And I mean it every year." He took another sip of coffee before tilting his head. "Bobby still threatening to deep-fry the turkey?"

You snorted. "Always. But Ellen put her foot down after the ‘grease fire incident of 1999.’"

Dean laughed, shaking his head. "Man, that was a hell of a year."

"It was a hell of a mess," you corrected. "We were still finding soot in the kitchen in February."

"Yeah, but it was worth it. Best damn turkey I ever had."

"You say that every year, too."

"And I mean it every year," he shot back, grinning.

For as long as you and Dean had been friends, your families had celebrated Christmas together. It started when you were kids, when Bobby and Ellen realised how much easier it was to combine everything into one big gathering.

Every year, you’d alternate whose house hosted—one year at the Winchesters’, the next at your place. It became tradition, something that felt as much a part of the holiday as presents under the tree.

You rolled your eyes, but your lips twitched. The back-and-forth was easy, natural—like it always was. The conversation wrapped around you like a familiar blanket, momentarily pushing away the lingering awkwardness from last night.

See? This is fine. It’s fine.

Then the silence settled.

And suddenly, you were aware of everything.

The space between you—too small, too charged. The way his fingers curled around his coffee mug, his knuckles flexing just slightly. The way his shirt stretched over his shoulders, like you hadn’t already memorised the broad shape of him years ago.

Your eyes met his, and the second they did, your stomach twisted.

Dean didn’t look away.

And neither did you.

Your breath hitched, but you forced yourself to stay still. No sudden movements, no giving anything away. But then your gaze betrayed you—just for a second, barely a flicker—dipping down to his mouth.

Shit.

Because now you could feel it again.

The way he kissed you, rough but deliberate, like he had wanted it. The taste of whiskey, the heat of his hands, the way his fingers had curled into your hips like he was holding on for dear life.

Dean cleared his throat. Stepped back.

"I’m gonna head to the store," he said, too casual.

It took a second for the words to register. "Oh. Yeah, okay."

He hesitated—like he might ask you to come with him—but then he smirked instead, lips twitching. "Would’ve invited you, but, uh… You kinda look like the walking dead. Don’t want you cramping my style.”

Your head shot up, glare locked and loaded. "Ass."

Dean just grinned. "Try not to die while I’m gone."

Then he was gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

The silence that followed was deafening.

Your fingers tightened around the coffee mug as you exhaled, long and slow, staring at the door like it might offer some kind of answer.

Yeah. You were so screwed.

By the time Dean strolled back in through the front door, the afternoon sun was already dipping beyond the horizon, casting the sky in deep hues of amber and violet—a telltale sign of the short winter days.

In his absence, you'd done your best not to dwell on the events of last night. Dean hadn’t brought it up, and you figured it was best you didn’t either. Did that stop your mind from running through every why, how, and what if on repeat? No. But for now, distraction would do.

So here you were, sprawled on the couch, wrapped in a blanket, watching reruns of Friends while feeling sorry for yourself in more ways than one.

“Hey,” Dean greeted, kicking the door shut behind him, hands full with grocery bags. He dropped them on the island, his keys clinking against the counter. “Sorry I took so long. Had to deal with a work emergency before I could hit the store.”

You peered over the back of the couch, blinking sluggishly. “S’all good. I crashed for a bit after you left anyway.” You stretched, groaning. “I am starving, though.”

After Dean had left, for a much-needed grocery run - as you too discovered the disastrously emptiness of your fridge, all you’d eaten were two pop tarts you’d found in the back of the cupboard.

“Well, if you’re up for it, how about I whip us up some burgers?” Dean smirked, already putting things away. Your stomach growled at the suggestion. You practically salivated at the thought. Dean could grill a mean burger, and he damn well knew it.

“Oh My God, yes.” You practically moaned. Dean chuckled as you hopped up and shuffled to the kitchen, immediately snooping through the bags. Your eyes lit up when you pulled out a tub of rocky road ice cream.

“Ohh, heck yes!” Dean turned just in time to see you clutch it to your chest like treasure. Rubbing the back of his neck, he shrugged it off.

“Yeah, well… figured you’d want it. Hangover ritual and all.”

It was such a simple thing—something so Dean. But it made your chest squeeze a little tighter. Maybe it was in light of recent events, but for some reason it touched you more than it should have. And in that moment, you realised just how much Dean had always taken care of you.

Whether it was remembering your favourite ice cream, patching up your scraped knee when you fell off your bike as a kid, or offering you a shoulder when you needed one.

You swallowed past the lump in your throat. “Thank you,” you murmured, and you meant it.

Dean just smiled.

You cleared your throat, shaking off the sudden wave of emotions. “Need any help? I may be half a step into the land of the dead, but I am still good with my hands.” You wiggled your fingers in his face, only for Dean to swat them away with a laugh.

“Nah, I got it. But in exchange, you could give me a scoop of that.” He nodded toward the ice cream.

Your grip on the tub tightened. “But—”

Dean arched an amused brow.

And just then, as if on cue, the TV blared Joey Tribbiani’s infamous line: "Joey doesn’t share food!"

You pointed blindly in the direction of the TV. “What he said.”

For a second, there was silence—then both of you burst into laughter.

“Alright, alright,” you relented, wiping at your eyes. “You can have one tiny scoop.” You winked and left him to it.

Dean rolled his eyes, but his grin never faded as he got to work on dinner.

“Seriously, dude, you should open your own burger bar or something,” you groaned, sinking into the couch as you took another blissful bite.

Dean snorted around his own large mouthful, shaking his head. He watched as you practically melted into your seat, eyes fluttering shut, cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk. It was equally parts disgusting and endearing.

You had no shame when it came to food. Talking with your mouth full, letting sauce smear your chin, completely oblivious to how you looked to others. It warmed him at how comfortable you must be in his presence to not care about such things.

Like right now, you sat cross legged on the couch, your hair thrown up in a messy bun, a worn-out, oversized t-shirt, that looked vaguely familiar, hung off your figure, and you had on a pair of sweats one size too big. Your face was makeup less but even so, you were beautiful.

After devouring your burgers, you moved on to dessert, despite claiming minutes earlier that you were “way too full.”

“Theres always extra room for something sweet.” You’d claimed, giving Dean a proper bowl of ice cream instead of the pathetic spoonful you'd originally offered.

You sat side by side watching some comedy, he didn’t remember the name of. But it was all the same, a storyline he’d seen a million times but, even so, there was the odd chuckle-worthy moment.

Not long after, you reached over, setting your now-empty bowl down beside his on the coffee table and as you sat back, he noticed it.

“Hey, you got a little—” He gestured to the corner of his mouth.

“Hm?” You wiped at the wrong side.

“No, here.” He pointed again. You missed it.

Dean huffed before leaning in, swiping his thumb against the chocolate smudge himself.

You stilled.

Your wide eyes flicked up to meet his, and suddenly, he realised just how close he was. His hand still cupped your cheek, thumb lingering at the corner of your lips.

The air thickened. Your breath mingled with his.

Dean’s tongue darted out, wetting his lips out of habit. Your gaze flickered down to the motion, and his stomach clenched.

And then—he wasn’t sure who leaned in first but suddenly, your lips were pressed to his, soft and warm, more confident than last time.

Dean didn’t think—he just reacted.

One of his arms wrapped around your back, the other tilting your chin as he deepened the kiss. You melted into him, fingers threading through his hair, nails scratching lightly against his scalp.

A low, guttural groan rumbled from his chest at the sensation. You tasted like chocolate and marshmallows, sweet and sinful, and fuck—he was already addicted.

Then, as if kissing you wasn’t enough, you shifted, climbing into his lap, pressing yourself against him like you had no idea what you were doing to him. Had he died? Was this some fever dream?

Before he could fully process what was happening, before he could stop you, before he could stop himself, you settled in his lap completely. And there was no hiding what you’d stirred beneath his jeans.

But you didn’t pull away.

Instead, a soft moan escaped your lips, vibrating against his own, and fuck.

He was done for.

His arms tightened around you, pulling you impossibly close, and then you moved. A slow, testing rock of your hips, then another, then a third—more confident, more deliberate. Dean groaned, eyes dark and hazy with lust.

Alarm bells blared in his head, warning him to stop, to think—to rationalise what was happening, why it was happening again. But how the hell was he supposed to think straight when you were rubbing against him like that?

Fuck.

His hands slid down your back, gripping your hips like he was holding onto his last thread of restraint. And then you did it again. A shudder ran through him at the friction, his head tipping back against the couch as he looked up at you. His expression was raw, wrecked—like you had all the answers, and he was desperate for them.

Your movements slowed as you leaned in, your lips grazing his jaw, then his ear.

“Are you down for some fun, Winchester?” you husked, your voice dripping with temptation. You nipped at his earlobe, making his eyes snap shut, his grip tightening on your hips.

“What kind of fun?” he asked, playing dumb, but mostly because he needed to hear you say it.

“The naked kind.”

Dean exhaled sharply, fingers flexing against your hips, his cock aching beneath you.

“I’ve always been curious about you,” you murmured, your lips trailing back to his, teasing, just brushing.

“You have?” His voice was rough, uneven. His heart pounded, not just with lust but something deeper—something dangerously close to hope.

“I grew up with the rumours,” you admitted, pressing a slow, torturous kiss to the corner of his mouth. “I’ve heard the women you’ve brought home… wondered.” Another kiss. “I’m curious.”

Dean nearly groaned. The idea of you—you—wondering about him that way, thinking about what it would be like between you… Jesus.

And then you kissed him, slow and deep, and Dean was gone.

“I don’t want to think about politics right now,” you confessed breathlessly against his lips. “I don’t want to think about consequences, or what’s right or wrong. I just want you—right now. If you want me too?”

Dean knew there should be a pause, a moment to reconsider, but the second the words left your lips—combined with the way you were looking at him like he was something to be devoured—every logical thought went out the window.

Fuck it.

Instead of answering, he kissed you—hard. And when you moaned appreciatively against his mouth, all bets were off. This wasn’t about feelings or what-ifs. This was heat and need, two people chasing a high neither of them was willing to resist.

With a firm arm around your back and the other gripping your thigh, Dean stood effortlessly, lifting you as if you weighed nothing. You gasped, clinging to him, arms around his neck, legs wrapped tight around his waist. He felt everything—every inch of you pressed against him, driving him insane.

Your lips never broke apart as he carried you toward your room—the closest out of the two.

And maybe, deep down, there was a nagging voice whispering about consequences. About what this meant. But right now?

Right now, he wasn’t listening.

And neither were you.

Your mind was screaming at you.

What are you doing?

This is Dean.

But you couldn’t stop. You didn’t want to stop. You were too wound up, too sexually deprived, too drawn to the way he looked at you—like you were something sacred, something he had to taste, to touch, to have. And he was right here. Willing. Eager. His hands gripping you tight as he carried you into your bedroom, lips never leaving yours.

The door barely clicked shut before he was lowering you onto the bed, his weight settling between your legs, pressing you down into the mattress. His mouth moved over yours with aching precision, slow but deep, savouring, like he had all the time in the world. Like he wanted to take his time.

It was intoxicating.

Dean groaned as you arched up into him, his hands skimming down your sides, exploring, memorising. His lips broke from yours just long enough to kiss a trail down your jaw, your throat, sucking lightly where your pulse pounded against your skin. It made your head spin.

And then lower.

He lifted your shirt inch by inch, his calloused fingers dragging over your heated skin as he peeled it up and over your head. His breath hitched.

“Jesus.”

Dean’s eyes darkened as he took you in—bare from the waist up, nipples hardened from both the cool air and the sheer intensity of his gaze.

“Fuckin’ knew you’d be perfect,” he murmured, running his hands over your stomach, thumbs grazing just beneath your ribs.

Then his mouth was on you again.

Soft, open-mouthed kisses along your stomach, a flick of his tongue just above the waistband of your sweatpants, then back up. Slow, torturous. His lips followed the curve of your ribs, his nose brushing against the underside of your breast.

Your pussy throbbed, desperate and aching, as he finally took one of your breasts into his mouth, sucking lightly, swirling his tongue around your hardened peak. Your back arched, a needy sound escaping you. He took his time, learning every sensitive spot, making you squirm, making you need.

And then he was moving again.

Dean took his time undressing you completely, peeling away your sweatpants, your panties, his hands exploring each new inch of bare skin like he was memorising a damn map.

He wanted to remember this, wanted to carve the image of you into his mind—the way your body responded to him, the way you trembled under his touch.

He shoved down any nagging thoughts, anything that whispered about how this might mean something. Not tonight. Tonight, all he cared about was this.

You.

Dean settled between your legs, kissing his way down again, teasing at your hip bone, the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. You gasped as he nipped at the sensitive flesh, as he breathed against your aching core, so close yet so cruelly far.

“Dean,” you whimpered, hands threading through his hair, nails scraping lightly at his scalp.

He groaned at that, and then—

His mouth was on you.

Your whole body jerked as his tongue flicked against your clit, hot and wet and perfect. He took his time, using slow, deliberate strokes before sucking you into his mouth, making your thighs twitch, your fingers tightening in his hair.

You had never felt anything like this.

But now you understood.

Now you knew exactly what all those women had meant, why they couldn’t stop coming back for more.

Dean Winchester could ruin a girl.

And right now, you were happy to be wrecked.

Your thighs threatened to squeeze around his head, but his hands gripped your hips, keeping you open, keeping you at his mercy. He worked you relentlessly, alternating between slow, teasing licks and firm, dizzying pressure. The coil in your stomach tightened, higher, hotter—

“Dean—”

“C’mon, sweetheart,” he muttered, voice husky against your slick folds. “Let me taste it.”

That was all it took.

Pleasure crashed over you in waves, stealing the air from your lungs. You cried out, arching off the bed as your climax ripped through you, your entire body shaking. Dean groaned against you, drinking in every last bit, licking and sucking you through the aftershocks until you were trembling beneath him, completely undone.

When he finally pulled away, his lips were slick, his pupils blown wide.

And then he was kissing you again, deep and desperate, letting you taste yourself on his tongue as he pressed you back into the mattress.

All too soon he pulled back, shifting onto his knees. You blinked up at him, dazed, still trembling from your release, but your breath hitched when he removed his t-shirt in one fluid, over the head motion. And then you watched in anticipation as his hands move to his belt.

He made quick work of it, the metal clinking softly in the quiet room before he popped the button of his jeans, dragging the zipper down. He didn’t look away from you as he shoved them down his hips, along with his boxers.

Your mouth went dry.

Dean Winchester was beautiful.

Broad shoulders, toned stomach, strong arms lined with freckles and old scars. And lower—your thighs instinctively pressed together at the sight of him, long and thick, already so hard, flushed, the tip glistening.

Heat surged through your body, desire burning anew.

Your hands moved on their own, reaching for him, fingers wrapping around his length, feeling the weight of him in your palm.

“Jesus,” you breathed, stroking him experimentally, watching how his abs tensed, how his jaw clenched.

Dean groaned, low and guttural, but his hand shot out, gripping your wrist and stilling your movements.

“Don’t,” he gritted, his eyes almost wild as they locked onto yours. “Not now. I—” He swallowed thickly, exhaling a shaky breath. “I won’t last.”

The admission sent a fresh wave of arousal through you, and the way he was looking at you—so desperate, so wrecked—made you dizzy.

Dean inhaled sharply, trying to compose himself, then rasped, “You got a condom?”

You nodded, reaching for the drawer in your nightstand. Your hands fumbled slightly as you pulled one out, but before you could tear it open, Dean’s fingers brushed yours.

“Let me,” he murmured, his voice like gravel.

You swallowed hard, watching as he ripped the foil, rolling the condom down over his length with practiced ease.

The sight alone had you clenching around nothing.

And then he was over you again, bracing himself on his forearms, his lips hovering just above yours. His eyes searched your face, softer now, less frantic.

“You sure?” he asked, his voice quieter, rough with restraint.

Your heart thundered.

But there wasn’t a single doubt in your mind.

“Yeah,” you whispered, brushing your lips against his.

Dean didn’t hesitate.

The first push was slow, stretching, filling, overwhelming. A deep, strangled groan rumbled from his chest as he sank into you completely, his forehead pressing against yours, his arms trembling as he held himself still.

“Fuck,” he rasped. “You feel so good.”

You clung to him, breathless, nails digging into his back.

He gave you a moment, then started to move—slow, steady rolls of his hips, pulling out just to push back in, his cock dragging against all the right places. The pleasure was immediate, sharp and electric.

Dean’s lips ghosted over yours, his hands gripping your hips, his movements deepening.

You could feel everything.

Every inch of him, every shuddered breath, every lingering trace of restraint slipping away with every thrust.

Your body arched into his, overwhelmed by the way he filled you, stretched you. The heat coiling in your stomach wound tighter and tighter, your nails digging into his shoulders as he drove into you at just the right angle.

“Oh, God—” you gasped, head tipping back against the pillow, eyes screwing shut.

Dean groaned, dipping his head to press his lips to your throat, sucking at the sensitive skin.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” he rasped, his breath ragged against your neck. “You feel so fucking good. You—” His sentence cut off with a sharp inhale when you clenched around him.

Your whole body was alight, buzzing, your mind a mess of sensation as he thrust deep, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

“Dean—” His name tumbled from your lips, needy, desperate, and that was all it took.

Like a snapped tether, pleasure crashed over you, stealing the air from your lungs. You clenched around him, back arching, hands fisting the sheets as wave after wave of ecstasy ripped through you.

Dean groaned at the feel of you squeezing him so tightly, his rhythm faltering.

And then he was right behind you.

His movements turned erratic, rough, as he buried himself deep with a strangled curse, his muscles going rigid. His breath stuttered, and then he was gone, undone, spilling into the condom with a deep, shuddering groan.

For a long moment, the only sounds in the room were your heavy breaths, your hammering hearts.

Then, Dean collapsed on top of you, panting hard, his body heavy and warm, his face buried against your neck.

You felt like you were floating. Like something inside you had fundamentally changed, but you shoved the thought away, fingers absently trailing through his damp hair as you both struggled to come back down to earth.

Dean let out a breath, his lips ghosting over your collarbone. After a moment, he shifted, bracing a hand on the mattress and rolling onto his back beside you.

A beat of silence.

And then you exhaled a breathless laugh.

“Wow.”

Dean chuckled, running a hand down his face. “Yeah.”

You turned your head to look at him, still gloriously naked, his chest rising and falling steadily, his skin flushed, his hair thoroughly mussed.

There was a something beginning to bubble in your chest, something unwanted, as you looked at him and so you forced yourself to push it down. And then a thought came to mind, a very reckless, possibly disastrous, thought, but you went with it.

“So…” you started, rolling onto your side, propping yourself up on an elbow.

Dean turned his head toward you, his expression unreadable. His hair was still a mess from your fingers, his skin warm where it brushed against yours. Too close. Too easy to want more.

“What now?” he asked, his voice rough, like he wasn’t sure he wanted to know the answer.

You swallowed. Don’t think about how it made you feel. Don’t think about what it meant.

“Well,” you said carefully, forcing a smirk, “that was… really fucking good.”

Dean huffed a quiet laugh, mirroring your smirk. “Not gonna argue there.”

You hesitated, fingers tracing idle patterns against the sheet beneath you. Then, before you could lose your nerve, you pushed forward.

“I have a thought,” you murmured, glancing at him from beneath your lashes. “A proposition, if you will.”

Dean’s expression didn’t shift, but he hummed in acknowledgment, silently urging you to continue.

You bit your lip, playing it off like it was nothing. “We’re obviously… good at this,” you said, your voice light, teasing—though the weight in your chest begged to be acknowledged. “And we’re friends. We trust each other, right?”

Dean frowned slightly, tilting his head. “Yeah?” he drawled, curiosity flickering in his gaze.

You shrugged, forcing yourself to sound casual. “I was thinking… maybe we don’t have to stop.”

His brows lifted in surprise. That was not what he was expecting. Hell, what was he expecting? This whole situation was... He didn’t even know at this point.

Dean didn’t say anything at first, and the silence made your stomach twist. You felt the need to fill it—to justify.

The words felt wrong in your mouth, but you ignored it.

Dean’s fingers flexed where they rested against the mattress. His gaze stayed on you, unreadable, and for a second, you thought he might laugh in your face. Call you crazy. Tell you this was a terrible idea.

Instead, he exhaled softly, nodding.

“Yeah. Okay.”

You let out a breath, relieved. Ignoring the tiny voice in your head screaming this is a mistake.

Dean didn’t want more.

And if you pretended you didn’t either, you could have some part of him, at least.

Better than nothing.

You had no idea he was thinking the same damn thing.

AN: I hoped you guys enjoyed this part, things are really stating to get moving 😅, there is a lot more of this story to come, more of these two idiots not realising what is so obvious! 🥲 As always I'd love to hear what you all think? ❤️

Side note: The scene I had in mind 😂 👇🏻

If you would like to be tagged in my future works please respond to this >form< so I can add you to the character's you'd like 😊

Dean Winchester/series Tag List:

@bettystonewell , @nancymcl , @happyfxckinghorrors , @ambiguous-avery @jollyhunter @tbgfvfdcb @crooked-haven @chevroletdean @paganvamp @stoneyggirl2 @deans-baby-momma @spnaquakindgdom @ladykitana90 @lyarr24 , @impala67rollingthroughtown @jackles010378 @riteofpassage77 @spnaquakindgdom @fangirlingfromdownunder @cevansbaby-dove @star-yawnznn @piptoost @shadysoulangel @deansimpalababy @megara0224

Next time...

Slowly, you padded across the floor, stopping just outside the shower door. With one last exhale of doubt, you pulled it open and stepped inside. Dean startled, his head whipping toward you, eyes wide with a mixture of alarm and surprise. “What the—” Before he could finish, his expression twisted in pain, and he squeezed his eyes shut. “Shit.” He hissed, rubbing furiously at them as soap trickled down into his lashes. Biting back a laugh, you reached for his arm and guided him under the spray, watching as the water rinsed the suds away. Okay, maybe this wasn’t quite as sexy as you had planned. When he finally blinked his eyes open, he turned to you, first in disbelief—then in something far more dangerous. His gaze darkened, sweeping over you from head to toe, and fuck. He could never get used to this. To you. Perfect. “Well, this is somethin’,” he smirked...

#wayne reads #fic rec #amazing writers 🤍#dean winchester #dean winchester x reader #idiots in fucking love

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yangjungwonisms · 3 days ago

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Play the Game- YJW/ LHS/ Reader

warnings: NSFW, MDNI 18+

hi everyone! I wrote this about a week ago! I’m really nervous to post it here as I’ve never written member/member before. Technically when part 2-3 comes out it’ll be written as a threesome or even poly. I hope you all like it! and if you don’t, oh well!

Jungwon knew from the minute he introduced you to his friends that Heeseung had a crush on you. In the years since you two had started dating Heeseung became more and more obvious about his feelings towards you. In all that time Heeseung was very careful never to step out of line because his friendship with Jungwon meant too much for him to end it over a crush. Still, Jungwon tried to be sensitive about it at first, he’d memorize Heeseung’s schedule so you two could have your more intimate moments in private. But there were times Heeseung accidentally caught the two of you. Most of the time you and Jungwon were only kissing and nothing more, but sometimes he caught the briefest glimpses of Jungwon fucking you. He had to give Jungwon credit, he oftentimes heard the ferocity with which Jungwon fucked you and how it seemed to without fail reduce you to tears everytime. It made him more jealous than he could put into words.

Sometimes Heeseung would pretend he wasn’t home when he knew you two would be there so he could hear you. He couldn’t help himself, whenever he heard you two start to go at it he’d slowly start to palm himself over his jeans and most of the time he’d fuck into his fist trying to match the pace at which you were getting fucked by Jungwon. He had been attracted to you since the moment he had met you. But he would never do anything that would jeopardize your relationship with Jungwon. He never intended to catch you guys fucking but living with Jungwon there were some times it was unavoidable to be home at the same time. Still, he tried to be respectful about it. At first he’d make sure he was gone when you’d come over, other times he’d just pretend he didn’t hear anything. He felt even worse about getting himself off to the idea of you being fucked next door. But it wasn’t just you he was imagining. He wasn’t sure when it had started but over time the fantasies began to include Jungwon. But not long before he started thinking that way about Jungwon he had walked into the living room to see you on your knees giving Jungwon head. He stood and watched for far longer than was appropriate. What stood out to him the most was how attractive Jungwon looked with his head thrown back, biting his lip to try and keep from moaning. He stood there and watched Jungwon hold your head in place and start to fuck your mouth. Almost as if his body was moving on autopilot he snuck his hand down his

pants and started jerking himself off.

Jungwon knew he was there though, what he didn’t know though was how much Heeseung seemed to enjoy seeing him get his dick sucked. At some point Jungwon looked up and made eye contact with Heeseung. Heeseung’s movements still immediately, frozen in place, unable to physically walk away. Jungwon simply winked at him and motioned for him to continue. After that to work him up more he started moaning and fucking up into your mouth at a brutal speed. Heeseung couldn’t believe what was happening, he’d been best friends with Jungwon for years and they’d never found themselves in a situation like this. But it was too late to back out when Jungwon was staring at Heeseung daring him to fuck into his fist harder and even more so when he mouthed for him to cum. Jungwon had timed it perfectly for him to finish when Heeseung did. Jungwon had never thought about Heeseung that way but he loved the power he felt watching Heeseung silently heed his orders.

After that encounter Heeseung did his best to avoid you both for awhile. He had crossed a line and he knew it, he couldn’t bring himself to face Jungwon after what he had done. But one night when he thought he was alone in the apartment he thought back to what happened with Jungwon and before he knew it he was palming himself over his sweats until he was hard. Without you two there he was finally able to make as much noise as he wanted without worrying about being caught. That is until he gets a call from Jungwon. He wasn’t sure what prompted him to answer in the first place but somehow he found himself hitting accept. He did his best to collect himself before answering but yet he couldn’t Shake the idea that he had been caught. He didn’t know how right he had been. Since the incident Jungwon had been planning a way to get Heeseung alone to see if he could recreate what happened between them. Some twisted part of Jungwon needed to know what exactly it was about the situation that made Heeseung stroke himself to completion with Jungwon right in front of him. So when you weren’t able to come over that night Jungwon knew he had the perfect opportunity fall right into his lap.

Jungwon played his cards extremely close to his chest, he had planned it down to a T. He knew Heeseung would be out for the majority of the day so all he had to do was remain extremely silent so when Heeseung arrived home he had no idea he was still there. Everything worked perfectly when not more than an hour after he had gotten home Jungwon heard the familiar tell tale signs of Heeseung getting himself off. He hadn’t planned on actually calling him, but the louder Heeseung got the more turned on Jungwon became. So without a moment of hesitation Jungwon picked up his phone and dialed Heeseung’s number. Heeseung picked up and even though he could tell how hard he was trying to sound put together that anyone would be able to surmise what he had just been doing. “Hey won, what’s up”? He’s far more out of breath than he’d like to be when he speaks. “I can hear you, you know. Sounds like you’re really getting into it huh”? Jungwon couldn’t see him but he knew Heeseung’s eyes were wide open in fear. Heeseung felt the familiar warmth of pleasure start to shoot through his body again at the younger’s teasing words. “Shit, I didn’t think you were home. I’m sorry”. Heeseung knew he had been caught and he was a terrible liar and there was nothing he’d ever be able to say that would make Jungwon believe him. “What were you thinking about”?

Heeseung knew Jungwon had to be fucking with him at this point, there’s no way in hell he just asked him what he was thinking about while he was jerking himself off. “I- I uh don’t know what you mean”. He thought if he just pretended Jungwon wasn’t saying those words to him and asking questions he shouldn’t be then it would go away. “You know exactly what I mean baby. Now tell me, what got you so worked up that you were whining like a little bitch”? Baby? Jungwon called him baby, and why did it prompt Heeseung to put his hand back down his pants and slowly start to stroke himself. Jungwon knew he won when he heard the subtle little pants from the other end of the line. “Um-oh fuck, was thinking about you”. Jungwon couldn’t help the heat that had started to spread through his body hearing the way Heeseung was pretending he wasn’t affected by Jungwon’s words. He had been lazily palming himself since he heard Heeseung start touching himself earlier. “What about me”? Heeseung couldn’t help the moan that slipped out of his mouth at that. “Fuck- was thinking about how you looked the other day getting your cock sucked”. At that Jungwon snuck his hand underneath his pants, but not before he spit into his hand. But still Jungwon wouldn’t give in that easily. “Yeah? Too bad you didn’t get to see my cock for yourself. Hm you touching yourself for me baby”? Heeseung couldn’t pretend any longer that he wasn’t about to cum with Jungwon on the other line. “Yeah- fuck baby, I’m touching myself for you. Feels so good. I can’t stop. Haven’t been able to stop touching myself since the other day”.

Jungwon lost all sense of self control, starting to fuck into his fist slowly. He was doing absolutely nothing to disguise the wet noises coming from his hand working his cock. He didn’t even try to quiet himself either, moaning with abandon. “Fuck baby- made me hard for you too. I’m touching my cock right there with you hee”. At the nickname Heeseung’s hips stuttered into his hand making him work harder for his release after that. Without a second thought Jungwon put his phone on speaker, opening the camera and taking a quick picture of his hand wrapped around his cock. He pressed send immediately after. “Sent you something for being such a good boy for me”. Heeseung’s breath caught in his throat seeing how hard Jungwon’s cock stood in that picture. He had only ever seen his own cock but he briefly wondered if he was missing out never exploring it further. The tip was turning a deep shade of red from how long Jungwon had been teasing himself. He was beyond ready to cum at that point. “You like what you see baby”? Heeseung had to take a second to pick his jaw up off the floor. “Fuck your cock looks so good. You’re so fucking hard oh my god”. At that Jungwon started fucking into his fist faster, trying his best to match the rhythm Heeseung had set. “Yeah. It’s all for you hee”. Heeseung set out to take a quick picture of his cock to send to Jungwon. Call it his attempt at evening the scale. “Oh shit hee, you never told me you had such a big cock. You’ll have to show me in person next time”. Heeseung couldn’t physically speak anymore being too close to cumming. All it would take was one simple command from Jungwon to have Heeseung fall apart for him.

They were both too busy moaning to continue a conversation. Except Heeseung had this sick need inside of him to hold off on finishing until Jungwon gave him express permission. “Fuck, can I cum please? Need it so bad”. Jungwon felt smug satisfaction course through his body as he fought to stave off his orgasm. “Fuck yeah baby, cum for me”. It was a chain reaction for the two men. Once Jungwon told Heeseung he could cum it triggered both of them to fall apart with a swift synchronicity to it. It didn’t take long for the awkwardness to set in after that. Jungwon told Heeseung one more time how good he was for him and then bid him goodbye. Heeseung felt like a piece of shit after that, for one Jungwon was in a committed relationship. What Heeseung didn’t know was that the night he caught you sucking Jungwon off that you had been made aware of it afterwards. You liked the idea so much that you and Jungwon were fucking for hours that night at the mere thought of it. Jungwon confessed to you that he liked being caught by Heeseung more than he thought he would. It was then he asked you how you’d feel about him playing with Heeseung a little bit and then potentially bringing him into your sexual relationship. You voiced your approval and sent Jungwon off to start planning. Jungwon would eventually put Heeseung out of his misery and reassure him that he didn’t mess anything up in your relationship and that you were well aware of what happened and had encouraged your boyfriend to explore that side of himself. A day would come soon when Heeseung would find out just how far you two were willing to go.

#kpop fanfic #kpop scenarios #kpop writers #enhypen #enhypen fanfiction #enhypen fic #enhypen smut #enha jungwon #yang jungwon #enha smut #enhypen jungwon #jungwon smut #heeseung #enhypen heeseung #lee heeseung #lee heesung smut #lee heesung x reader #heesung enhypen

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lolacelest101 · 2 days ago

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No Need for Privacy Part 2

18+ MDNI

Hi Hi!! I want to start off by saying THANK YOU for all the support that you all gave my on my first part! I know I don't have a set schedule yet, but I feel like I definitely took too long to give y'all part 2 so here we go!! For this post you can read it as a one parter or you can go back to part one to read it then come back for this!

I hope you enjoy this one and as always HAPPY READING!

Word Count: 8109

TW: In this part, there is some really dark humor about serious topics including Su!sidal ideation and other dark topics. This is NOT meant to make fun of these topics. It was just meant as really dark and fucked up humor.

If this is a trigger for you PLEASE DON'T READ!!!

Summary: Y/N recently moved to Monaco for work with her best friends and is currently living with them in the same house. Sparks fly between Lando and Y/N, when Lando who is living next door catches Y/N in a spicy moment starting a secret romance that they have to hide from the public.

Themes: Lando!Norris x Fem!American!reader, next door neighbor, secret dating

Smutty tings: POV switch, Fem dom switch, oral fem receiving, mirror sex, p in v, unprotected sex (please practice safe sex!!!!), slight over stimulation, fingering, praise and degradation kink.

Y/N's POV

It’s been over a week of orientation at work with the girls and nonstop media obligations for Lando in preparation for the Monaco GP this coming weekend. The odds of seeing him are slim, especially since we’re sneaking around like teenagers behind everyone’s backs.

I’ve never been one to date in secret, but in my defense, I’ve never been involved with someone so well-known that fans and paparazzi needed to be factored into a relationship.

Today is media day for Lando, but he managed to text me earlier, letting me know he’d be able to leave early after finishing some interviews and a meeting. By the time I get home, he should already be free. He suggested I tell the girls I’m heading to the gym. But honestly, that excuse will sound unbelievable if I end up spending the night at his place.

My focus snaps back to the task at hand as Liana and Aaliyah approach my desk.

“Hey, girl. You need to take a break or get some fresh air. You’ve been sitting like this for the past hour,” Aaliyah says, her voice laced with concern.

Liana stands behind me and starts massaging my shoulders. “Look, this project isn’t going anywhere. Just get up and take a breather or something!”

I sigh, realizing they have a point. “You’re right, sadly. Fine!” I stand up, grabbing my phone and wallet. “Coffee break?”

They both nod in unison, and we head toward the elevator to grab some coffee from the third floor—the only place with decent coffee in the building.

“So, are we doing anything this Sunday? I heard Camille mention that a bunch of people are going to Jimmy’s and invited us,” Aaliyah says, practically vibrating with excitement.

“I’m down, as long as the grand prix is done by then. Traffic’s going to be insane,” I reply as we step into the elevator.

“Same here,” Liana agrees. “But what about tonight? I feel too bored to just sit at home doing nothing.”

“Oh!” Aaliyah’s eyes light up. “How about a movie night? 27 Dresses, The Princess Diaries 1… and 2,” she adds dramatically, grinning as Liana nods in agreement.

Shit. How am I going to get out of this one?

“Sorry, girls. You’ll have to watch without me. I have to finish the project tonight—or at least the PowerPoint. I don’t want to spend more time on it than I absolutely have to.” I try to sound apologetic, praying they don’t catch onto my lie.

I’ve never been a great liar, and these two know all my tells. Right now, I’m hoping they’ve forgotten them.

“Dude, leave work at work! Don’t stress yourself out. I know it’s easier said than done, but come on,” Liana scolds, launching into one of her motivational speeches about the importance of work-life balance as we wait for the coffee machine to finish brewing.

I raise my hand to make a peace offering. “Okay! How about this—let me work on my project tonight, and tomorrow, I’ll take you both to that Japanese restaurant we’ve been wanting to try. My treat.”

“Fine, but you better pinky swear on it because I swear…” Liana starts, clearly recalling the last few times I flaked.

I grin, extending my pinky. “Deal.”

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

Later That Night

"Okay, girls, I’m going to get changed and work on the project. Have fun with the movies!" I call out, doing my best to sound completely unsuspicious.

What the hell is wrong with me? I’m so going to get caught. Movie Night Ditcher—that’s going to be my new nickname for a while. And when they find out I’ve been hiding a whole relationship behind their backs? Oh, it’ll be so much worse. If they even talk to me after that, it’ll only be for a few days—maybe a week. Anything longer would be borderline criminal.

Once I’m in my room, it’s time for Mission: Sneak Out. No, I can’t come up with a better name right now—how the fuck am I supposed to sneak out of a second-story window without breaking my neck?

I glance out the window, trying to gauge just how bad the fall would be. After spending far too long assessing the situation—long enough for it to seem borderline suicidal by society's standers—I decide that today is not the day I live out some cheesy teen rom-com moment. I’ll leave through the front door like the classy lady I am.

My focus snaps back as I hear the familiar Kim Possible text notification from my phone. Picking it up, I read the message from Lando.

LN 🪟🧡: Hey, cutie pie! I’m waiting on the sidewalk for you. Please don’t leave me hanging, princess—I’ve been dying to see you and touch you all day! 😽

I take a deep breath, trying to calm the instant, undeniable craving to feel his hands on me. Grabbing my laptop, I head downstairs. From the kitchen, I can hear Liana and Aaliyah debating over which movie to watch first while the popcorn machine hums in the background.

This is my chance.

Tiptoeing to the door, I carefully grip the handle and twist it as silently as possible. I slip outside, quickly flicking on the porch light before shutting the door behind me and locking it. The light will stay on until the sun fully sets, making my excuse a little more believable.

Just to keep the girls from freaking out, I shoot a text to our group chat:

Me: Hey loves! Decided to take my laptop out to the front yard for some fresh air and fewer distractions. Don’t worry about me!

Hopefully Liana wouldn't get all detective Sherlock Holmes —or worse, Criminal Minds profiler—on my ass. Hopefully.

As I sneak past the house’s front gate and step onto the sidewalk, strong yet gentle hands settle firmly on my hips, pulling me into a back hug.

Before my fight-or-flight instincts can kick in, I twist my head slightly and catch Lando’s cheeky smile over my shoulder. His grip tightens, tugging at the fabric of my flowing sundress and molding my curves against him.

"God, you smell amazing, Princess," Lando whispers in my ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down my spine.

"Glad you like it. It’s my favorite too," I reply, my voice soft as he leans closer, his lips pressing a tender kiss to my neck. The subtle floral scent of my perfume fills the space between us as he inhales deeply.

The heat of his lips on my skin sends an electric thrill through my body, pooling warmth in my core and nearly making me forget that we’re still outside, fully visible from the house.

"Okay, so what’s the plan? Hanging out at yours or...?" I ask, turning to face him as I try to gauge our options.

His eyes roam over me hungrily, lingering on every curve and inch of exposed skin. "I’ve got a reservation lined up for dinner, and then I thought I’d surprise you with something special... but after seeing you in this dress, I don’t know if I’ll even make it through dinner without losing my mind."

His gaze burns into me, his hunger palpable.

"Well then, Mr. Norris," I tease, a mischievous grin spreading across my face as I drape my arms around his neck, my fingers threading through his soft curls. "I guess we better make it to that reservation quickly—so we can move on to the more fun parts of the night."

Lando opened the passenger door of his sleek black McLaren, a playful smile on his lips as he gestured for me to get in. I oblige, sliding into the luxurious seat and fastening my seatbelt.

The drive to the restaurant takes about twenty minutes, but it feels much longer with one of his hands confidently resting on the steering wheel while the other lingers on my thigh. His fingers trace slow, deliberate circles on my skin, sending a ripple of heat through me that I try—and fail—to ignore.

By the time we pull up to the restaurant, my panties are already damp, and I’m silently begging the universe that nothing betrays me by seeping through.

Lando slides out of the driver’s seat with casual grace and quickly makes his way to my side. He opens the door with a flourish, extending his hand toward me.

"My lady," he says with a teasing lilt, his eyes glinting with mischief.

I place my hand in his, letting him help me out of the car. "Thank you," I reply, a grin tugging at the corners of my lips as our gazes lock.

Lando hands his keys to the valet with a nod before turning back to me, his hand lightly brushing the small of my back as he guides me toward the entrance.

Dim lights lined the stairs leading up to the restaurant's grand front door, where a man greeted us warmly and motioned us inside.

"Hello, Mr. Norris. Your table is ready on the private patio as requested," he said with a professional smile.

Lando gestured for him to lead the way. "Great, thank you."

I turned to Lando, my brows arching in surprise. "A private patio? Don’t you think that’s a bit much?"

He tugged me closer, his hand resting possessively on my hip. "Nothing is too much for you, princess. Plus, it has the best view—I know you’ll love it."

The waiter led us through a discreet, tucked-away hallway, hidden from the main dining area. As we stepped onto the patio, my breath caught. Before us was a perfectly set table overlooking the ocean, with the vibrant colors of the sunset painting the horizon. The table was adorned with delicate flowers and flickering candlelight that gave the scene an enchanting glow.

I turned to Lando, my heart full, and cupped his face gently in my hands. "I love it. It’s absolutely gorgeous." I pressed a soft butterfly kiss to his lips.

His lips curved into a satisfied smile. "I’m glad," he murmured, kissing me back. This time, his kiss deepened, more passionate now that the waiter had taken his cue to leave.

Pulling away reluctantly, he slid a chair out for me. "After you, my lady."

I smiled as I sat down, and the night began beautifully.

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

The sun had long dipped below the horizon, casting a soft glow over the patio as our conversation carried on effortlessly. Lando regaled me with hilarious stories about his chaotic childhood with his siblings and the adventures of his karting days, his animated expressions making me laugh so hard I nearly choked on a bite of chicken carbonara.

Every laugh, every glance felt natural, yet the subtle heat between us simmered just beneath the surface. His fingers occasionally brushed over mine, lingering a little longer each time, the casual touches growing more deliberate. With each graze of his skin against mine, the heat in my core deepened, the teasing connection between us becoming impossible to ignore.

My focus was momentarily interrupted by a notification on my phone. I excused myself, reaching into my purse to check the text from Aaliyah.

Ally 🪩💕: Hey girly!! You’ve been working on this thing for like 2 hours. We’re about to start PD1!! We miss your commentaries, GIRLLYYY!! 😩

Me: Hey love!! You two just watch it without me. I still need at least another hour on this thing. I PROMISE to annoy the shit out of you next time. Enjoy 😽!!

Sliding my phone back into my purse, I looked up to find Lando handing his card to the waiter. His brow furrowed slightly as he studied me. "The girls—are they worried?"

"No, they’re fine," I reassured him with a smile. "They just wanted me to join, but I told them I needed at least another hour."

"Alright then," he said, his lips curving into a mischievous grin. "Time to head home?"

The teasing glint in his eyes left no doubt about what he meant by home.

"Sounds good, but let me stop by the restroom first," I replied, matching his grin.

As I stood and turned, I could feel his gaze searing into my skin, setting every nerve alight.

"Enjoying the view?" I asked, my grin practically audible in my tone.

"Absolutely," Lando shot back, his own grin evident. "So hurry back."

After finishing in the restroom, I made my way back to the patio, where Lando stood waiting, leaning casually against the railing. His eyes lit up when he saw me, and he wasted no time stepping forward to meet me.

"All set?" he asked, his lips curving into a wicked grin.

I nodded, and without another word, he took my hand, pulling me toward the entrance. His movements were quick and deliberate as he retrieved the keys from the valet, thanking him with a brief nod.

Once inside the car, Lando revved the engine of his sleek McLaren, the low growl vibrating through the air. He shot me a glance, his eyes dark with intent. "Buckle up, princess. The faster we get home, the sooner I can have my way with you."

I barely managed to fasten my seatbelt before he hit the gas, the car roaring to life as we sped onto the open road. The city lights blurred around us, but my focus was entirely on him—and the way his free hand found its way to my thigh.

His touch was firm, deliberate, and impossibly distracting. His fingers traced slow, tantalizing patterns on the fabric of my dress, sending shivers through my body as the cool night air rushed in through the slightly cracked window.

His touch started slow, his fingers tracing light, teasing patterns on the fabric of my dress. "You’re so damn gorgeous, you know that?" he murmured, his voice low and rough with desire.

His hand didn’t stop moving, and as the car took a slight turn, the motion caused my dress—already riding up from the way I was sitting—to inch higher, baring more of my legs. Lando noticed instantly.

"Looks like this dress wants to cooperate with me tonight," he said, his tone dripping with amusement as his fingers brushed the newly exposed skin.

I gasped softly at the contact, my breath hitching as he let his fingers press just a little firmer, sliding further up my thigh.

"Lando," I breathed, my voice betraying the way his touch was unraveling me.

"Yes, princess?" he asked, his lips quirking into a smirk as his fingers teased the sensitive skin just above my knee.

"You’re driving way too fast," I managed to say, though my words lacked conviction.

He chuckled, the sound deep and full of mischief. "I always drive fast, love. Besides, don’t act like you don’t love the adrenaline—just like you’re loving this." his hand slipping higher, just under the hem of my dress, which had now ridden up enough to expose the sensitive skin of my inner thigh.

The combination of his touch and the hum of the engine sent a thrilling tension coursing through me. I gripped the edge of my seat, half from the speed and half from the way his hand kept inching closer to the heat pooling between my legs.

I bit my lip, my hands gripping the edge of the seat as his fingers made lazy circles , sending jolts of heat through my body.

"God, you’re so responsive," he said, his voice dripping with admiration and desire. His thumb brushed a little higher, just beneath the fabric of my dress, and my head fell back against the seat.

"Lando," I whispered, my tone equal parts plea and warning.

"Hmm?" he hummed, clearly enjoying every second of this. His fingers stayed just shy of where I needed him most, teasing me mercilessly.

"You’re going to kill me," I muttered, my voice breathless.

He laughed, his hand retreating slightly, but only to give my thigh a firm squeeze. "Not tonight, princess. Tonight, I’m going to keep you very much alive—and make sure everyone in the neighborhood knows exactly who makes you feel that way."

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

By the time we reached his house, my heart was racing, and the heat between us was palpable. As soon as the car stopped, he was out and around to my side in an instant, opening the door for me. "Come on," he said, his voice full of promise as he took my hand and led me inside.

My heart thudded in my ears, a frantic rhythm fueled by excitement and nerves. I couldn’t help but wonder if the girls had seen us or heard the car pass by.

We rushed into the house, and as the front door clicked shut behind us, reality hit me all at once. I was in his house. He slept here, lived here, called this place home. These walls had witnessed so much of his life—friends, family, ex-girlfriends—both in moments of joy and sorrow.

The quiet hum of the outside world faded, replaced by a softer, warmer ambiance. A low melody drifted through the air—smooth jazz, wrapping itself around me like a cozy blanket.

“I didn’t know you were such a fan of calm music,” I teased, glancing at him with a playful smirk.

“Well, let me show you all the things about me you could fall in love with,” he replied with a soft chuckle.

The lighting was warm and inviting, golden hues glinting off polished surfaces. The simple yet elegant chandelier cast a gentle glow, complementing the room’s ambiance.

His words sent a flutter of butterflies through my stomach. He took my hand, lacing our fingers together as he led me deeper into the house.

I glanced around, taking in the space. It was effortlessly stylish yet distinctly him—comfortable, modern, and charmingly chaotic. A teetering stack of books rested precariously on the coffee table, with a few racing magazines tucked underneath. The oversized, plush couch had a throw blanket draped over one arm, the kind of detail that hinted at lazy afternoons and cozy evenings.

“It’s, uh... cozier than I expected,” I said, raising a brow at him.

Lando shrugged, following my gaze. “What can I say? I like a little organized chaos.” He flashed that boyish grin that never failed to disarm me.

I wandered further into the room, my fingers grazing the edge of the couch before stopping by the shelves near the window. They were lined with an eclectic mix of trophies, framed photos, and random trinkets. One photo in particular caught my eye—a candid shot of him laughing with his family at what looked like a barbecue.

Seeing that side of him made my chest tighten in the best way.

“You’re really just going to stand there judging my decor?” His voice, mockingly indignant, pulled me from my thoughts. “I thought you were here to spend time with me, not critique my vibe.”

I smirked, turning to face him with a playful glint in my eye. “I’m not judging, just... observing. You can tell a lot about a person from their living room.”

“Oh yeah?” he challenged, stepping closer. “And what does mine say about me?”

“That you’re sentimental... a little messy... but mostly just hopelessly charming,” I said, tilting my head as if scrutinizing him.

“Hopelessly charming?” he echoed, his grin widening as he stopped just a step away. “Is that what we’re calling it now?”

“Don’t let it go to your head,” I teased, crossing my arms.

“Too late.” He reached out, tugging me gently by the waist until I was pressed against him. “Besides, if I’m hopeless, it’s because of you.”

I rolled my eyes, laughing as I playfully shoved his chest. “You’re impossible.”

“And you love it,” he shot back, dipping his head until his nose brushed against mine.

Before I could respond, he pulled back slightly, his gaze softening. “Can I get you something? A drink, maybe?”

“A drink sounds perfect,” I said, following him into the kitchen.

The kitchen was as unassuming as the living room—sleek countertops, minimal clutter, save for a lone mug on the island that read “#1 Driver.”

He opened the fridge, glancing over his shoulder. “What’s your poison? Wine, something stronger, or one of my world-famous gin and tonics?”

I leaned against the counter, arching a brow. “World-famous, huh? Should I be honored?”

“Extremely,” he said with a straight face, pulling out a bottle of gin and setting it on the counter with a flourish. “You’re about to experience greatness.”

I laughed, watching as he moved around the kitchen with practiced ease, humming along to the music still drifting in from the other room. There was something magnetic about the way he moved—relaxed, confident, unapologetically himself.

“You’re enjoying this way too much,” I said as he handed me a finished drink, complete with a perfectly sliced lime wedge on the rim.

“Maybe,” he admitted, clinking his glass gently against mine. “But only because I finally get to show you my world.”

I took a sip, savoring the crisp, refreshing taste. “Not bad,” I said with an approving nod.

“Not bad?” He clutched his chest dramatically. “That’s the best gin and tonic you’ll ever have.”

I laughed, setting my glass down and grabbing his hand. “Okay, Mr. World-Famous Bartender. Show me what else this place has to offer.”

“Gladly,” he replied, intertwining our fingers and gently nudging me so my back hit the kitchen island. “But first, there’s one rule.”

“Oh?” I asked, arching a brow. “What’s that?”

“Tonight, you let me show you exactly how beautiful you are—and how absolutely crazy you make me,” he said, caging me between his arms.

My brain short-circuited, imagining what he’d look like if he turned the yearning up just a bit more. I’d probably combust right then and there.

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

Lando’s POV

The daze in her eyes brought out a siren-like allure, making my brain spiral with questions about everything that had led to this moment. Her gaze wasn’t pleading for me to take control—it was imagining how good I’d look on my knees for her.

My eyes flicked between hers, smoldering with lust, and her pink-tinted lips, practically begging for my attention.

My arms stayed firmly in place, caging her in. “You’re such a naughty girl, you know that?” I murmured, a grin spreading across my face, helpless against the pull of her energy.

“What did I do?” she shot back, her expression a mix of mock shock and amusement, barely holding back her laughter. “You’re the one pinning me here like a prisoner.”

I leaned in closer, my lips brushing against the curve of her ear. “But you’re the one with those eyes,” I whispered, my voice low and teasing, “practically begging for me to get on my knees and let you have me in any way you want.”

Her breath hitched at my words, her cheeks flushing a shade deeper as my voice hung in the charged air between us. For a moment, she didn’t reply, her lips parting slightly, betraying her effort to keep control of the situation.

She tilted her chin up, regaining just enough composure to fire back, “Maybe I am. But are you brave enough to follow through?” Her tone was bold, but the slight tremor in her voice betrayed her excitement.

I chuckled softly, the sound rumbling low in my chest. “Oh, sweetheart,” I murmured, my lips brushing her earlobe again, “you have no idea how far I’m willing to go for you.”

Without waiting for a reply, I loosened my hold, my hands sliding down to rest at her hips. Slowly, I began to sink to my knees, keeping my eyes locked on hers. The moment was deliberate, unhurried, as if I had all the time in the world to unravel her. I want to unravel her, make her desire explode in ways she didn’t know she could.

Her breath quickened, her chest rising and falling in time with the pounding of her heart. She leaned back slightly against the counter for support, her fingers gripping the edge as if it were the only thing keeping her grounded.

“Still think I’m just talking big?” I teased, my voice husky as I placed a feather-light kiss on the inside of her wrist, trailing lower with each touch.

Her lips parted again, but no words came out—just a shaky exhale that sent a jolt of satisfaction straight through me.

Her fingers found their way into my hair, tugging lightly, testing how much control she could claim. I let her have it, for now, leaning into her touch as I kissed my way up her arm. Slowly, I raised her leg, placing her heel gently on my lap, the slit of her dress parting to reveal my next target. My lips moved from the arch of her foot, still adorned in her heels, climbing slowly up her thigh. I left wet, circular patterns with my tongue, just a hint of what my mouth was capable of, teasing her with the promise of what was yet to come. My fingers followed, brushing along her skin with a deliberate slowness, savoring the softness of her skin on my lips.

“You’re playing a dangerous game,” she finally whispered, her voice thick with anticipation.

I grinned against her skin, my hands tightening slightly on her thigh as I pulled her closer. “Good,” I replied, my tone dripping with mischief. “I like living on the edge.”

And the thought of letting the night unravel like this sent a shiver down my spine, igniting a thrill that was all too evident in the tightening of my jeans. I was resolute—ready to give her exactly what she craved, and perhaps even push her boundaries just enough to leave her breathless.

“Tell me,” she said, her voice low and commanding. “Should I have you eat my pussy out right here, right now? Or do you want to show me just how much of a good boy you can be for me?” She leaned forward, locking eyes with me, her fingers gently lifting my chin to meet her gaze.

Her dominant tone washed over me, stirring something deep within. All I could think about was touching her, tasting the heat of her desire.

“As you wish, my princess,” I whisper, my voice strained with hunger. “I’m yours to command.” My breath hitched, each word leaving my lips heavier with need, though I fought to maintain my composure, desperately trying not to let my desires slip through.

“Well then” she stands up straight as she grips the back of my hair just a bit tighter, gesturing to me to stand up as well.

She stepped closer to me, and unbuttons my shirt slowly, letting her finger tips brush over my chest with a wave of heat and electricity that made my cock twitch.

I could only grovel for so long before I bailed on the whole thing. I wanted to grab her hips, place my throbbing cock at her entrance and lose myself in her until the neighbors came knocking at my door, wondering who was being murdered and expecting me to be the killer.

I took a deep breath, allowing myself to relax and embrace my vulnerability. I trusted her completely, and she sensed it.

With a swift motion, she slid my shirt off, letting it drop to the floor. Hooking her index finger inside the waistband of my pants, she guided me down the hallway toward the front door, where a large body mirror stood against the wall.

She released me momentarily to fetch a chair from the dining room just a few steps away. I watched her every movement, my desire for her touch intensifying. She positioned the chair in front of the mirror and sat upon it like a queen on her throne, as if it had been hers since the dawn of time.

“Well, my sweet boy, I want you to show me what your tongue can do before I decide if you’ve been good enough to taste my pleasure,” she purred, her voice dripping with seduction. She spread her legs, inviting me to kneel between them, then slid the straps of her dress down to her waist, exposing her toned breasts to my eager gaze.

My mouth watered at the sight, and all I could manage was a low, husky, “Yes, princess,” before my hands found her hips, and I began to suck and lick her nipples, savoring every moment.

heightened my desire as I marked her skin with bite marks and hickeys, each one igniting the fire between us.

“Fuck, baby, with the way you’re working your mouth, I might just want to use it all night,” she breathed, her words thick with lust as she tangled her fingers in my hair.

“You can use my mouth however you want, princess. You can even sit on it, and I’ll show you real talent,” I managed to whisper between kisses, my tongue flicking and teasing her nipples, eager to please her in every way.

“Well then, I might just take you up on that offer,” she said, grabbing my head and guiding me to lay on the floor in front of her. For a moment, I forgot she was facing the mirror.

She stood up, sliding her dress and panties down, leaving her clad only in heels. As she stepped by my face, I was treated to a perfect view of her glistening wetness hovering above me.

My tongue instinctively began to escape my mouth as she looked down, tilting her head with a playful smirk.

“Aw, is my sweet boy begging for a taste?” she teased, her tone a mix of pouting and mockery.

“Yes, princess, I need you,” I replied, my voice thick with lust and longing.

“Well then, show me,” she commanded, sinking to her knees and positioning her arousal over my mouth, her fingers weaving back into my hair.

Her hips began to grind against my mouth, her creamy arousal coating my tongue as she leaned back, resting a hand on my abs.

A part of me feared she might tease me, trying to slide away from my eager mouth. Without hesitation, I wrapped my arms around her thighs, pulling her hips close and tight against me.

The sound of her moans growing louder was music to my ears. “Fuck, princess, you taste so good; I want to devour you,” I murmured, my voice muffled as I pressed my tongue deeper into her, savoring every moment.

A part of me was curious how loud I could make her moan my name, imagining a tongue as wicked as venom the villain’s, but that was a fantasy that had no place in my mind at this moment.

I could feel her legs shaking as the first orgasm of the night washed over her.

“Fuck, Lando—” her words were swallowed by a moan as she rode out her high.

I didn’t want to stop, but I knew she would crave something a little… deeper.

“Fuck, princess, if I had known you were such a good rider, I would have let you take control from the first moment I saw you.” A smirk spread across my face, unable to hide the satisfaction and desire swelling within me, both emotionally and physically.

“Fuck, Lando, I’ve never felt this good,” she breathed, her voice heavy with drained adrenaline and satisfaction. A mischievous glint sparkled in her eyes as she added, “And you know what?”

She slid back to sit on my abdomen, allowing me to prop myself up slightly to meet her gaze with a questioning look.

“I want to try something new,” she said, her eyes locking onto mine with a playful innocence that hinted at her intentions.

“Which is?” I leaned in, craving the touch of her lips. Y/N moved closer, kissing me softly before teasingly licking the corner of my mouth, catching an escaped drop of her essence.

“Mmm, I do taste good. Anyway, I was thinking maybe you could train me on something,” a smirk blossomed on her lips.

“Why are you being so cryptic, princess?” I replied, my curiosity piqued as a smirk formed on my face. “You know I’ll be your good boy for the night; anything you want is a yes from me.”

“Well, I was thinking we could try…” Her cheeks flushed deeper as she leaned in to whisper her request in my ear, “anal training.”

Her voice was hot against my skin, and I could barely process what she had just said. My shocked expression spoke volumes, my thoughts racing faster than I could articulate.

She leaned back, her cheeks still flushed. “I mean, it’s a big ask. I would understand if you don’t want to,” a hint of embarrassment crept into her voice, snapping me out of my daze.

“Are you kidding? I really want to, but are you sure you want to do this? There are things we need to prepare for, right?” My mouth rambled on before my brain could catch up, and I noticed the shift in her expression as I spoke.

“Oh, that’s true. Makes sense. But are you actually down to do this later on?” Her face perked up with excitement as she regained her energy.

“Of course, but for now, use me as you need,” a soft smirk crossed my face. “You know, I’m totally down if you want to sit on my face again.” A small chuckle spilled from her mouth.

“Nope, now I want you to lead me to your room to show those walls some action.” She stood up and grabbed my hand.

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

Y/N's POV

With Lando’s fingers intertwined with mine, he leads the way up a black-and-white staircase with glass sides. Automated lights brighten the hallway, revealing a few guest rooms that appear unoccupied, along with a space that seems designed for gaming and recording, illuminated by vibrant LED lights. Towards the end of the hall, a door is slightly ajar.

“So, care to stay the night?” Lando glances back at me.

“Maybe another time. I just need to check on you and head home before the girls think I’ve been kidnapped or worse,” I say, winking at him with a cheeky smile.

A grin spreads across his face, sending butterflies in my stomach into a frenzy. In less than a second, Lando sweeps me up by my hips and tosses me over his shoulder like a bag of rice.

Part of me is too confused to register what’s happening, while another part can’t help but let out a constant giggle, wondering, What the heck are you doing?

Do I like this? Is this what it means to be manhandled?

His arm wraps around my waist to stabilize me as I struggle to gather my thoughts. Suddenly, I feel a sharp sting on my cheek, followed by a playful smack on my bare ass that sends my arousal soaring to a whole new level.

“You're moving way too slowly,” Lando says, trying to justify his actions. “And the spank was for teasing me so much tonight.”

Before I could respond with a playful act of revenge, his free hand began to explore my wet core. Each delicate touch on my clit made my back arch, and my fingers dug into his muscular back, leaving red lines as reminders of the moment.

“And that… is for being so damn irresistible” Lando’s voice low and soft as he places a soft kiss on my thigh, sending a shiver through my body from the tingling sensation.

I had expected him to hurry into the room, but with his touch igniting my skin, a moan escaped me, stretching the moment into what felt like an eternity.

Once we reached his room, he wasted no time, tossing me onto his bed. Lying there, facing him as he stood at the edge, all I could think about was how much I wanted him to keep his promise.

“So, are you enjoying the view this time around?” he asked, a smirk growing on his lips as he shifted his muscular arms to wrap around my thighs, pulling me closer.

“What can I say? I love a Magic Mike preview,” I replied, a giggle escaping my lips mid-movement.

“Oh, I think you paid for the full show. No?” His grin turned mischievous.

If I could read his mind, I’d find only unholy thoughts of what this man intended to do to me, and I was more than willing to oblige.

His lips danced with butterfly kisses across my stomach, moving up to my breasts, while his fingers explored every inch of my body, sending electric shocks that would make f(x) nostalgic, and made me beg for more.

His lips found my nipple, swirling it with his tongue while he massaged my other breast with his hand.

“Fuck, I’ve dreamed of this exact scenario,” Lando murmured, his voice melting into my chest.

“Really? Tell me about it,” I replied, tangling my fingers in his hair and gripping ever so slightly.

“That first night… when I saw you in the mirror,” he said, his voice husky and low between kisses and licks.

His words sent shivers down my spine, igniting a thrill that made the wetness between my legs even more intense.

“I was sitting on the bed, watching you, fucking yourself. Just imagine how good your moans would sound if your hand wasn’t covering your mouth.” His words drip with lust as hickeys and bruises form on my sensitive skin.

“Did you just watch me, or did you do something?” I needed to know the answer, aware that either response would make me crave him inside me instantly.

“I wanted to pretend I hadn’t seen anything, but I couldn’t. All I could think about was how badly I wanted you on my cock. I started touching my cock, watching you get that dildo inside you and out.” he continued.

“Fuck, I need more, fuck me Lan, I need you” My voice was laced with desperation as I tugged a little harder on his hair.

“Are we already begging?” A smirk grew on his lips as he positioned himself at my entrance, thrusting into my pussy, which wrapped tightly around his cock.

His movements made my back arch, and I gripped the sheets so hard they felt like they might rip, aching for every inch of him to feel my desire.

As he thrust into me with rough, needy motions, he pressed his palm against my lower stomach and began rubbing my clit with his thumb, driving me closer to the edge. The static energy coursing through my body was intense as I struggled to hold back my climax.

“That’s it, princess,” he murmured, his voice intoxicating like whiskey. “You’re so close; I can feel your pussy tightening around me.”

My body was unable to respond as I felt his hand leave my clit, moving up to wrap around my jaw, forcing my mouth open with his cum-covered thumb.

“Look at me, Y/N.” His breath burned on my skin as he placed a hickey on my neck, marking his territory. “I want to see you in the eyes when you’re cumming all over my cock, like a good little slut.”

His words brought me to the brink, and I struggled to meet his gaze, locking my eyes onto his. Lando’s thrusts softened as I rode the waves of my orgasm, shaking and gripping the sheets for dear life, moaning his name so loudly that I could see his grin widening in response.

After a few more thrusts, Lando leaned onto the bed, hovering over me. I felt his warmth as he released himself inside me, each pulse sending shockwaves through my body. To my surprise, he didn’t pull away; instead, he let our essence drip and overflow around him, igniting a deeper desire within me.

As our bodies began to untangle, Lando resumed his rhythm, sending my already sensitive body into a state of overwhelming pleasure. “Lando, what—” My words faltered, lost in the sensations coursing through me.

“Sluts receive rewards for being good girls, no?” Lando’s mischievous grin was unmistakable, his eyes sparkling with playful dominance.

My hand grasped his arm as his body hovered over mine. I placed tender kisses along his veins, feeling the warmth pulse beneath my lips. With each thrust, he moved faster and deeper, sending waves of pleasure coursing through me, making me see stars.

“Fuck, baby, plea—” I was caught in a whirlwind of desire, unsure if I was begging him to continue or pleading for him to stop, and the latter felt impossible.

Lando's hand roamed down my body, intensifying the already overwhelming sensation into an agonizing pressure.

As soon as his fingers found their way to my sensitive clit, my body twitched involuntarily.

Just then, a slightly muffled voice crept in from the window, but my mind struggled to grasp its meaning.

The overstimulation faded as I realized that Lando had stopped, standing still and listening to the voices outside. Panic set in when I recognized Liana and Aaliyah; and they were looking for me.

“She didn’t say she was going anywhere, did she?” Aaliyah’s voice grew thick with worry.

My eyes widened at the realization that they were most definitely freaking out, and my phone was downstairs, blaring at full volume. If I could hear their voices all the way from here, they would surely recognize the distinct ringtone, muffled yet unmistakable, signaling that I was at the house next door.

began to frantically pull myself off the bed, ready to rush downstairs, slip on my dress, and come up with a convincing lie about why I was wearing it and where my laptop had gone. Just then, Lando’s hand grabbed my arm, pulling me close into a bareback hug.

“Princess, I know you need to leave, but the dress will be hard to explain,” he murmured, his voice soft against my skin.

“Then what do you suggest I do, go naked?” A chuckle escaped my lips, the absurdity of the situation hitting me.

“Even though I’d love to see you walking naked in the street, dripping with my cum, I wouldn’t want to pluck the eyes out of every man who dares to look at you.” His arms tightened around me as he placed a passionate kiss on my neck.

“Come with me. Let’s get you something to wear.” Lando began leading the way into his walk-in closet.

As he rummaged through his drawers, he pulled out an oversized black hoodie emblazoned with his company’s logo, “Quadrant,” in graffiti-style neon colors. I could only guess it was either a limited edition or from an upcoming collection.

He handed me the hoodie, and I eagerly awaited the moment he would offer me a pair of pants or something similar, giving him an inquiring look.

“I think this hoodie should be long enough for you to consider it a dress,” a slight smirk broke across his face.

“Absolutely not! It won’t even cover my ass fully; I need pants… or at least shorts.” I slipped the hoodie over my body and glanced at myself in the mirror, assessing how much coverage I would actually get.

I turned to him, the fabric hanging loosely around my frame, barely grazing my thighs. “See? This is not going to work,” I said, trying to suppress a smile at the absurdity of the situation.

Lando stepped closer, his gaze lingering on me with undeniable heat. “Actually, I think it looks incredible on you. You won’t need joggers; that hoodie is doing all the work.”

“But my ass is going to show! I can’t just walk out li—” My brain raced with anxiety over every aspect of our current situation.

“Come on, princess,” he urged, his voice low and soothing. “Just put it on. If it’s actually too short, I’ll give you some pants or even my briefs to wear.” He gave me a reassuring look, his confidence radiating and hoping to calm my nerves.

His words sent a thrill through me, and I found myself wavering, caught between embarrassment and the excitement of his bold suggestion.

After a few minutes of deliberation, I finally decided to wear one of Lando’s boxer briefs under the hoodie. I walked to the front entrance where the intimate part of our night had begun, collecting my panties and dress from the floor.

“Leave these here; I’ll drop them off another day so it doesn’t look suspicious,” Lando said, his voice low and husky as he leaned in, placing soft butterfly kisses along my neck.

“I have to go talk to the girls,” I murmured, my voice betraying a hint of anxiety.

Yet all I truly wanted was to skip ahead to the moment when the girls knew everything, and I could spend the night wrapped in his arms, feeling safe and desired.

I tried to take long, steady breaths as I approached the front door of our house. When I attempted to creak the door open, I found it locked, leaving me with no choice but to face the girls right here and now.

After a few seconds of gathering my courage, I rang the doorbell. I could hear Aaliyah’s frantic voice rushing to the door. “I’ll get it! That might be her!”

As soon as she opened the door and let me in, her eyes scanned my disheveled appearance and the messy state of my hair.

“Where were you? We were so worried! Liana was just about to call the police to file a missing persons report.”

I let out a slight chuckle, trying to sound as natural as possible. “Come on, I just went for a little walk and didn’t want to disturb your movie.”

Aaliyah’s expression said it all; she didn’t believe me, and rightfully so. I was just hoping she wouldn’t see through my facade in this moment.

Just as I thought I might escape Aaliyah's scrutiny, Liana appeared from the living room, her eyebrows raised in curiosity. “What’s going on? Why do you look like you just ran a marathon?”

Aaliyah crossed her arms, a knowing smile creeping onto her face. “Yeah, Liana. I was just asking her where she’s been. I think she snuck out to see someone.”

My heart raced, and I quickly shook my head. “Wha—no way! I just went for a walk to clear my head. Seriously, you guys are overreacting. I just needed a break from the project.”

Liana stepped closer, her eyes narrowing playfully. “Come on, Y/N. You can tell us if you were with someone. We won’t judge… for the most part.”

Heat crept up my cheeks. “I promise, it was nothing like that! I just needed some fresh air,” I insisted, trying to sound convincing.

Liana’s gaze closed in on me, knowing she had solid evidence regarding my movie-ditching offense. “Yeah? Then where’s the laptop, huh?”

After a slight moment of hesitation, I managed to speak, my voice an octave higher than usual. “Well, it’s in my room. I came in during the movie and then left again. I wasn’t going to take it with me on the walk.”

Aaliyah leaned in, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “You sure it wasn’t a special someone? Because you’re acting a little too suspicious.”

“Absolutely not! I swear, I’m just tired and wanted to be alone for a bit,” I replied, forcing a laugh to lighten the mood. But inside, I was a bundle of nerves, praying they wouldn’t see through my lies.

Liana exchanged a glance with Aaliyah, both of them clearly unconvinced. “Alright, but if we find out you’re hiding something, we’re going to need all the juicy details,” Liana teased, her smile widening.

I took a deep breath, silently relieved that they hadn’t pressed further. “Fine, but there’s nothing to find. Can we just drop it?”

Liana crossed her arms, still eyeing me with playful suspicion. “You know we’re not going to let this go that easily, right? You can’t just waltz in here looking all flustered and fucked out of your mind and expect us to believe you were just out for a stroll.”

Aaliyah chimed in, her expression teasing yet serious. “Yeah, we’re your friends! It’s our job to investigate. So… Do you have anything to say, young lady?”

I let out a chuckle. “I appreciate the investigation, but it’s not necessary. I’ll definitely report to the CIA and FBI that you two have done a magnificent job with your investigative procedures.”

I managed to sneak away to my room once they got engrossed in another movie.

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player188654 · 1 month ago

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COOLIVER MOODBOARD

#it’s been so long since I’ve done one of these #pictures from pinterest #Cooliver #American housewife #moodboard #tv #sitcom #cooper Bradford #Oliver Otto

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atlasblue85 · 2 days ago

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saw this post earlier and just wrote this in like. 10 minutes. hope u don't mind

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“Have you been sleeping at all?” Maddie asks after Buck’s fourth yawn of their so-far five minute conversation.

“Yeah,” Buck says, tilting his head side to side, trying to crack his neck. “Just, uh, not great.”

Maddie gives him a pitying look, one of many he’s received over the past two weeks since Eddie hooked the U-Haul to his truck and drove away, leaving Buck standing in the street in the rain. It’s nearly funny how much of a cliche it was, but only Buck knows that, because only Buck knows he’s in love with Eddie and just how much more tragic that made the whole scene.

“I know it’s not ideal but have you tried sleeping pills?” Maddie suggests. “Even melatonin might be enough to at least get you somewhere.”

“No,” says Buck, taking a sip of his coffee, “I don’t want to take anything. I just need to…” He trails off, not meeting Maddie’s eye. That’s his first mistake.

“Need to what, Evan?” she asks sternly.

“Nothing,” he says, too quickly. Second mistake. Maddie narrows her eyes. “Nothing,” he says again, aiming for calm. “I just need to, you know, get past this, and it’ll be fine.”

Maddie sets down her mug and clasps her hands together in front of her. He’s done for. “You’re my brother and I love you. Both of which mean I can tell when you’re hiding something. If you don’t tell me what’s going on I’ll just have to figure it out some other way.”

Buck’s resolve crumbles. “I’ve been sleeping on the couch,” he mutters into his cup.

Maddie gives him a look like he’s insane, and all he can think is, Just wait. “Why are you sleeping on the couch when you have a perfectly good bed?”

Buck sighs and covers his face with his hands. He can’t be looking at her when he says this. “It’s not my couch.”

“Buck. Will you look at me? Where the hell have you been sleeping?”

“No, it’s not…” Another sigh. He uncovers his face. “The people who rented Eddie’s house already had some furniture and he didn’t want to get a storage unit so he was gonna sell some of his stuff but I couldn’t–” He stops. He can’t say it.

“Oh my god,” Maddie says, the other shoe finally dropping. “You’ve been sleeping on Eddie’s couch.” It’s not a question.

Buck fully buries his head in his arms on Maddie’s kitchen island. “I know, okay? I know.”

He feels a warm hand run up and down his back. “So let me get this straight,” Maddie says. “You had zero couches for a good portion of the time you’ve lived in that apartment and now you have two?” He doesn’t respond. “Please tell me you didn’t get rid of your own couch.”

Buck picks his head up. “No,” he says. “I just rearranged. It’s a tight fit, but I’ll make it work.”

“For how long?”

Buck shrugs. “As long as I need to.”

If Eddie sells all the furniture in his house to move to El Paso do you think Buck bought the couch?

#buddie fic #buddie drabble #if you will #clocks in at exactly 500 words which was unintentional but exciting for me.

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smoakingtardis · 1 month ago

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tagged by @tornadocowboy thank you so much!!

last song: I Love You, I’m Sorry

fav color: purple/green

last book: usually fanfic (probably something by @goddesspharo) but actual book was finishing the Chestnut Springs series by Elsie Silver (jury is still out).

last movie: Hitman

last tv show: Brooklyn Nine-Nine

sweet/savory/spicy: savory

relationship status: single...

last thing i googled: where to stream Lessons in Chemistry

current obsession: Hannix, Twisters, pretty much anything I spend longer than 10 minutes thinking about.

looking forward to: figuring out my life, reading new fanfic, and watching A Complete Unknown.

#it’s been so long since I’ve done one of these #about me

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samaraxmorgan · 7 months ago

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Your Roommate Sukuna

“That Time His Older Brother Gave Him A Tarot Reading”

Modern no curse AU, Sukuna X Reader

Synopsis: This housing crisis sure is no joke huh? Rent is just too expensive to live alone, so you put out a listing for a roommate and ended up living with none other than the tattooed bad boy Ryomen Sukuna! This is part of a series of drabbles and oneshots showing glimpses into you and Sukuna’s living situation!!

Contains: brothers au, pure fluff, reader is not present, Sukuna is pining hard

Word Count: 1.26k

Series Masterlist - My Full Masterlist

Sukuna isn’t one to make time for his family. Although he has an identical twin brother who bothers him far too much for his liking and an older half brother, he almost never talks about them and spends even less time talking too them. But today he was feeling nice… which is strange for him, but regardless, he decided to agree to come by his brothers’ apartment.

And was quickly reminded of why he never comes over.

Sukuna was seated on the antique couch while Choso kneeled in front of the coffee table between them, flickering candles on every surface bathing the living room in a soft warm glow and reflecting on the shiny surfaces of the crystals placed meticulously all over the table. Choso opened up a small black box, pulling intricately designed tarot cards from inside and fanning them between his fingers before spreading them face down across the table.

Sukuna really was trying not to roll his eyes at the whole ordeal, but the man can only take so much before he’s bound to cave, “This is so stupid.”

“Shh…” Choso leans forward and presses his finger over Sukuna’s lips.

“Don’t touch me.” He grumbles.

“Shut up,” Choso loses his calm demeanor for only a second before he’s closing his eyes again, “I’m focusing.”

“On what?”

“I’m tuning in…” He wiggles his fingers over the cards, “to the energies.”

“Jesus fucking christ.” Sukuna rubs his temples, “When did you start doing this witchcraft shit again?”

“Not witchcraft,” Choso peeks one eye open to shoot a quick glare at his brother, “And yesterday.”

“Oh you’re a real professional huh?” He smirks down at him.

“Sukuna,” His shoulders slump and he lets out a frustrated huff, “Just, fucking shut up.”

The two of them squint as the lights suddenly flick on, Yuuji not quite getting the memo of what’s going on downstairs as he leans his head over the stair railing to peek into the living room, “Ooh, how’s the satanic ritual going?” He calls out from the stairway.

“Yuuji!” The two of them call out in unison. He lets out a little “Oops” and flicks the light back off, running back to his room upstairs.

Choso rubs his eyes, smudging his eyeliner onto his fingers, “Okay just, pick a card.”

Sukuna huffs out an annoyed breath, reaching forward and tapping his pointer finger on one of the cards in the middle. Choso slides the card down in front of Sukuna and flips it over, revealing an upside down picture of a man sitting upright in a bed with his head in his hands and swords neatly stacked on the wall behind him.

“Oh, interesting.” Choso mumbles.

“The fuck is he crying about?” Sukuna leans down and squints at the card on the table, “It’s upside down.”

“It’s reversed,” Choso clarifies, “The nine of swords reversed.”

“Choso, I don’t know what the hell that means.”

The long haired man sits up a little straighter, pointing at the card with a manicured finger, “This first card is your past. The next will be the present, and the last will be your future.” He picks the card up and scans it carefully, “You were… struggling, alone, not one to talk to others even when you need to-“

“What is this fuckin’ therapy?”

Choso groans and rolls his eyes, “God knows you need it, but no. Anyway,” He clears his throat, “You were in a downward spiral, but this is past tense, clearly you’re more open now considering,” He gestures vaguely around the room, “Well, you’re here for once.”

Sukuna is visibly annoyed, not a fan of being picked and prodded at. Choso places the card back down on the table, gesturing for Sukuna to pick another one, which to Choso’s surprise and for Sukuna’s morbid curiosity, he does; tapping his finger on a card pushed to the side of the table.

Choso flips the card over, and once again, it's upside down. It pictures a man sitting cross crossed in front of a tree, three golden goblets on the grass in front of him and a fourth being given to him from a disembodied hand floating next to him.

He’s really fuckin’ bad at organizing his cards.

Choso’s gaze flickers between Sukuna and the card, his brows furrowed in thought so clearly that you could almost see cogs turning behind his eyes, “Four of cups… reversed.”

“The hell does reversed mean?”

“It’s usually a negative version of the card’s meaning.”

Sukuna scoffs, “Oh fuckin’ lovely.”

Choso props his elbow onto the table, tracing the outline of the card with his finger, “You’re withdrawing-“

“Well yeah. No shit,” Sukuna cuts him off, “You’re telling me I’m cursed. What’s the damn card mean?”

“That is what the card means, idiot. You’re reluctant to open up to someone.”

Sukuna leans back against the couch, crossing his arms over his chest, “Who?”

“I don’t know,” Choso shrugs, “Maybe the future card will clarify.”

“Absolutely not.” He huffs. Choso looks up at him with confusion, “I told you this was stupid, I’m not picking another.”

The light flicks on once again, Sukuna groans at the sound of Yuuji’s voice yelling from the stairway, “Sounds like someone’s a fucking pussy!”

“Yuuji, quit eavesdropping or I’ll gouge your fucking eyes out.”

The light flicks back off.

Choso looks up at Sukuna expectantly, and after glaring down at him for a moment he breaks, rolling his eyes and flipping over a random card, “If it’s upside down I swear to fucking god-“

“Oh shit!”

“What?” Sukuna sounds almost startled, looking down at the card he sees that this one is upright; picturing a naked man and woman standing in front of some kind of angel. But he’s quickly able to gather the most damning part of the card.

The bottom of the card says “The Lovers.”

“Oh fuck off.”

A smile spreads across Choso’s face, “I don’t think I need to explain this one to you. And it’s not upside down.”

“Reversed.” Sukuna mockingly clarifies.

“Shut up,” Choso leans forward, grin still plastered on his lips, “Who is it?”

“It’s nobody, this shit isn’t real.” Sukuna scowls, but deep down he’s glad the room is so dark to hide the tint in his cheeks.

It’s not fucking real idiot. Stop it.

“How about this,” Choso clasps his hands together, looking up towards the ceiling, “If this shit is real, give us a sign.”

Yuuji flickers the lights.

“No! Stop interfering, this is serious!” Choso yells out towards the stairway.

But Sukuna’s blood runs cold as his phone buzzes in his pocket, quiet enough that no one could hear, but he could feel it.

It’s not real.

The room is silent for a moment as Choso scans for any type of sign, but it’s as if the world had completely stopped turning, not even the candles were flickering. Choso plops his head onto the coffee table, mumbling under his breath, “I don’t know why I thought that would work.”

“Mhm.” Sukuna hums, putting up a disinterested front as he pulls his phone from his pocket, “Can we watch a movie or something now like a normal family?”

Choso defeatedly blows out the candles, collecting his crystals and placing his tarot cards neatly back into the box, “Fine, fine, but I still think it’s real.”

Sukuna’s heart nearly stops beating when he unlocks his phone and sees a text from you, “If u leave dirty dishes in the sink one more time I’m actually gonna kill u in your sleep.”

God I hope it’s fucking real.

A/N: Family bonding time has never been so awkward, anyway here’s that time Sukuna started to believe in magic, or witchcraft, or anything if it means you like him as much as he likes you. Dividers by @adornedwithlight

Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist!!

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awardenandacrow · 2 days ago

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You know what 18 is fun too. It’s “Rook tries to impress someone.” Or, in Naimy’s case, two someone’s.

@erin-unknown sorry for taking so long on this one, it’s been kicking around for a little bit in the brain but it was in a lot of little pieces so I wanted to have it a little more together before sharing. Still three pieces but that’s better than it was!

[snippet 47: at the Ossuary, Naimeryn tries for convince herself… and Neve, and Lucanis, that she is capable of leading the team and NOT a total screw up]

CW/TW: strong language, death by drowning, other violence

——————————————————————————

“I’ve seen demons possess corpses. *Ashes.* even hair once.”

“At least this one has good taste,” Neve remarked with a smirk. Naimeryn did not succeed in suppressing a nervous giggle. That he did. She’d never been so grateful to see a Venatori guard in her life, to avoid whatever awkward exchange would have followed. Instead she ran forward, blasting Magic into the ground behind them, sending one flying *through* the Ossuary wall. She gasped and covered her mouth as she watched him drown. She spun back to Neve and Lucanis, eyes wide.

“*I didn’t know the enchantments were just — just —*” she waved her hands emphatically at Neve and then the wall.

“Not solid?” Neve asked with a quirk of her eyebrow.

“*Yes*!” Naimeryn snapped.

“Rook, *you* pointed out at the entrance that some of the walls were leaking.”

“Yes but I — I just thought — you know what?” Naimeryn rubbed her forehead and tried to still her panicking heartbeat. “Doesn’t matter what I thought. Let’s get the damn phylactery, kill this Calivan asshole, and get the fuck out of here.”

“I get that this is a rescue,” Lucanis smirked a little as they began walking again, “but you could leave a little for the rest of us, Rook.”

Naimeryn flushed at the remark. She felt like all she’d done was embarrass herself since she and Neve had arrived. But he seemed to… maybe think differently?

“Hey, Rook,” Neve said, falling into step beside her. “I can’t help but notice you rely pretty heavily on your staff attack.”

Naimeryn tightened her grip on the offending weapon. “Oh, uh, do I?”

“You *know* you do,” Neve frowned. “Are you more comfortable with your mageknife and orb? Why don’t you use them instead?”

“Oooooh, no,” Naimeryn laughed. “You do *not* want me brandishing this thing around.”

She patted it where it sat on her hip nervously. “This is mostly just for looks. I promise, I’m *way worse* at magic with this.”

“I didn’t say you were *bad* at ma— Rook, you’re about to—!”

Before Naimeryn could turn back away from Neve to look where she was going, she found herself tumbling down another slide made of sand. Blight and damnation, why would the Venatori build their prison in a ruin like this??? She skittered to a halt just before falling off yet another ledge. She started to sit up, then ducked to avoid a spell hurtled at her from the Venatori guards below.

“Hey!” She yelled down at them, throwing herself off the ledge and tossing magic of her own onto their heads to break her fall. All three screamed as the blast threw them all off the edges of the platform they’d been standing on.

“Serves you right for not even giving a girl a chance to get back on her feet,” she snapped to no one in particular.

“You can’t deny *that* was impressive,” she heard Lucanis say to Neve, and she flushed at the praise. No one had *ever* called her impressive before. At anything.

No, wait. Antoine had called her plan to save the village impressive. Why did this feel different?

“I wouldn’t dream of it,” Neve replied drily, inspecting the ledge above for an easier way down to where Naimeryn stood.

“Oh, I’ve got you!” Naimeryn called up, waving her staff at a crumbled pile of what had once been a tall pillar. She floated the pieces over to Neve to create a suspended temporary staircase.

“Thank you,” Neve said, beginning to descend, “but I could have jumped.”

“I didn’t mean to imply I thought you couldn’t,” Naimeryn said nervously. Had she offended her? “It’s just, earlier when we had to, it seemed like it hurt? So I didn’t want you to have to do it again.”

“You really *are* sweet,” Neve chuckled.

“I just… uh…” *Damn it, Naimeryn, get it together.* Why did she have to be so awkward with Neve? All she’d done since they got to Antiva was make a fool of herself. “I’m used to just doing… practical stuff. To help out, you know? It’s just a… reflex. Um. Anyway.”

She was keenly aware of Lucanis studying her curiously. Just great. An amazingly talented, drop dead gorgeous, unbelievably smart mage she was growing to immensely look up to, and an incredibly attractive, clearly competent, used-to-taking-out-much-more-powerful-than-her mages, *man.* These were the people she was falling, stumbling, stammering, relying-on-her-basic-staff-attack in front of. Very confidence inspiring. Excellent leader material.

…

He was too strong. Even with Spite seemingly intent on helping, Lucanis couldn’t get close enough to Calivan to hit him. Any time Neve got close, he would blast her back and summon another demon to block her path. The Venatori guard grabbed her staff, and Naimeryn punched him in the nose, quickly bringing her attention back to Calivan. Maybe if she could do something to distract him, Lucanis could take his shot. She ducked under the sweep of another guard’s scythe, surveying the room for a second time.

Calivan’s desk was on a raised platform behind him, accessible by a curving staircase to either side. If she could drop down from above, pull his attention away from the other two… yes, that could work.

Naimeryn swung her staff, catching the guard she’d punched in the side of the head. He went down like a ton of bricks. The one with the scythe swung at her again, and she narrowly managed to parry, the blow sending vibrations up her arm. She planted her staff and pushed off the ground, swinging around it to plant both of her feet into his chest. He fell, and she sent a blast of magic from her hand into his face, rendering him unconscious as well. She leapt to her feet and ran, dodging ranged attacks from demons and wraiths, climbing the stairs two at a time. Just as she reached the top, she saw Calivan pivot, drawing closer to the side she was on. Rather than getting to his desk and jumping from there, Naimeryn readied her staff and leapt down towards him.

Calivan spun, a wicked smile cracking his face. He reached up and caught her, throat first, knocking the wind out of her and sending such pain through her spine as she was jarred to a stop that she saw stars.

“An incompetent mage,” Calivan sneered into her face as he pulled her in close, his fingers crushing her throat even as hers fought to loosen them. Out of the corner of her good eye, she could see Neve trying to get past the demon he’d summoned, fighting to get to her. “Zara will have *such* fun with *you.*”

“Nah,” Naimeryn wheezed, “I may be incompetent… but I’m *resourceful*.”

She quickly pulled her mage knife out of her belt and thrust it as hard as she could manage into his side. With a gasp, he dropped her, and they both crumpled to the ground. The demons he’d summoned disappeared. Naimeryn coughed and rubbed her neck as Lucanis stepped into her line of sight to stand over Calivan.

…

“I thought you said you didn’t know how to use this?” Lucanis asked, wrenching her mageknife free and wiping the blood on Calivan’s clothes for her.

“Not for *magical* things,” she said hoarsely, accepting it as he flipped the hilt towards her. “I know which end to stab people with; I’m not a *complete* idiot.”

“Maybe try convincing him of that when you haven’t just thrown yourself into close quarters with a powerful blood mage,” Neve shook her head. “That was reckless, Rook.”

“We needed an opening,” Naimeryn frowned. “I got us an opening.”

Neve gave her a hard look and curled two fingers under her chin, making her tilt her head back. She squirmed under the scrutiny.

“Really, I’ll be all right,” she insisted, giving Neve’s shoulder what she hoped was a reassuring squeeze. “I’ve faced down worse bullies than *him.*”

Yay! Either 11 or 18 for the prompts, if you like 😊

Ooooh I likey! 11: Rook is recognized for an accomplishment. This is off the cuff so forgive me if it’s a little rough!

——————————————————————————

“Rook will be making breakfast this morning!” Bellara beamed, giving a little hop of excitement. Naimeryn smiled nervously at the team, feeling absolutely foolish.

“So, eggs?” Harding smirked.

“*No*,” Naimeryn snapped, but Neve and Harding snickered.

“I’m missing something,” Taash crossed their arms over their chest.

“Rook does not cook,” Lucanis said gently, giving her an encouraging smile that made her heart do a summersault. “When I first arrived, the only thing she knew how to make was eggs. But Bellara has been teaching her some things.”

“Ah, excellent!” Emmrich clapped his hands together. “It is ever so important to always be open to learning new things!”

“I… don’t want anyone getting their hopes up too high,” Naimeryn said nervously. “Bellara is an excellent teacher, but I’m still learning.”

“If I die, I promise I’m going to haunt you,” Davrin said skeptically.

“I’ll withhold the poison then,” Lucanis said smoothly, “as I could not live with myself having subjected her to *that.*”

A chorus of laughter and Davrin’s good-natured protests filled the dining hall.

“Come on,” Bellara nudged her into the kitchen. You’ve got this!”

Under Bellara’s watchful eye, Naimeryn whisked and fried and flipped and sizzled. She was nervous — only Bellara had eaten her food thus far, and the thought of the whole team trying it was… admittedly terrifying. But the last batch had been pretty good, and bacon was much easier than she’d believed. She took a deep breath as she pulled the last pancakes off the griddle, and Bellara brought the syrup they’d bought in Arlathan to the table.

“Pancakes?!” She heard Neve cry immediately. “Did you actually teach her to make pancakes?”

“And bacon,” Naimeryn affirmed, turning to the table with a plate of each in her hands. “I made some crispier and some less so, so hopefully everyone has it how they like it.”

Naimeryn and Bellara served the rest of the team, then Naimeryn took her usual seat at the head of the table. Bellara, her plate in hand, gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze as she sat to her left.

“*Rook!*” Harding spoke first, her eyes wide.

“Is it okay?” Naimeryn asked nervously, twisting her hands in her lap. She thought she might be sick.

“I’ve never had pancakes before,” Taash said, “but these are really, really good!”

“Really?” Naimeryn perked.

“You done did good,” Davrin nodded, shoveling a whole pancake into his mouth in one bite. Naimeryn didn’t know whether to laugh or smack him.

“I’m proud of you, Rook,” Neve said, taking a bite of bacon and smirking at her. “Your hard work really has paid off.”

“Not burnt, or stuck, or the wrong consistency,” Lucanis smirked. “You’ve truly come a long way.”

Naimeryn’s face burned. “I’m no *you.*”

“So, ah, is this gonna be a regular thing?” Taash wanted to know, holding up their empty plate. “‘Cos I want more. Please.”

As everyone began to laugh again, Naimeryn brought Taash her plate. “I’ll make myself more,” she smiled at the Qunari. “Apparently I can do that, now.”

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I hope you guys enjoy! Guess we’ll call this snippet… 33? ;)

#dragon age the veilguard #fanfic #dragon age rook #dragon age #dragon age the veilguard spoilers #rookanis #my rook #rook #original character #rook x lucanis #the ossuary #datv spoilers #Naimeryn Thorne #a warden and a crow #fanfic snippet #rook ask game #rook story time

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