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charlesslut16 · 2 months ago

Note

hey can I request a dark obsessive possessive crazy max verstappen with cute and innocent reader girlfriend smut pleasee!🥹

-to be mine forever is all you need-

summary : you and max go to an event to find investore but a man spekas to you so max must act...

PAIRINGS : max verstappen x fem!reader

WARNINGS : 18+, NSFW; smut, dirty talk, p in v, oral (female receiving), sub/dom, fingering,possessive!boyfriend, rough sex, unprotected sex (be safe!)

note : I hope that you like this my lovies! PLEASE REQUEST MORE SO I CAN WRITE MORE; I AM OUT OF IDEAS!!!

masterlist

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''You're glowing tonight," Max murmured, his eyes tracing the outline of your neck as you stepped closer, the soft fabric of your dress brushing against his hand. His voice was low, a gentle rumble that seemed to resonate through your very soul.

The event bustled around them, a sea of faces and voices, but all you heard was the thunderous beat of your heart and his words, a sweet caress in the chaos. You looked up at Max, your cheeks flushing a soft pink that matched the roses adorning your dress.

"Thank you," your replied shyly, your gaze drifting down to their interlocked fingers. The room was a whirlwind of lights and glamour, an elegant masquerade ball that was the talk of the town. Max's hand was warm and firm, a comforting presence in the midst of so much unfamiliarity.

Before you walked to the investors, Max turns you to him and kisses you lovingly. You were his angel, his light and everything for him. He loved you so much that he needed you to stay and to always be by his side.

As you mingled with the high-profile investors, discussing the intricate details of his racing team's latest venture, you couldn't help but feel a tingle of excitement. This was Max's world, and you were the guest star for the night.

The surrounding conversations swirled like the champagne in your glasses, but you remained focused on Max, your eyes never straying from his intense gaze.

Then, a man with a charming smile and an air of sophistication approached you. He was dressed impeccably, his tuxedo tailored to perfection. He spoke with an accent that you couldn't quite place, and his words danced around you like a flirtatious waltz.

Max excused himself for a moment to take a call, leaving you with the mysterious guest. He began to tell you a story, one that had you giggling and leaning in closer, your eyes sparkling with delight. The man's story was of a young engineer who had designed a revolutionary new suspension system for racing cars.

You found yourself lost in his anecdotes, the sound of his laughter like a siren's call, drawing you deeper into his world of innovation and ambition. He spoke with passion and wit, and you couldn't help but be charmed by his intellect and charm.

As you listened, your hand rested lightly on his arm, your laughter echoing through the grand hall. But then, you felt it—a sudden chill in the air, a shift in the surrounding energy. Max was back, his eyes darker than you had ever seen them, his smile gone, replaced by a look of cold disapproval.

He didn't say a word, but the tension in his jaw and the tightness of his grip on his phone were clear indications of his displeasure. You looked up, your eyes wide with confusion, as he stepped between you and the man, claiming his space with the dominance of a lion reclaiming his pride.

"I believe she's had enough for one night," Max said, his tone clipped and final. The man's smile never wavered, but you could see the surprise in his eyes as he took a step back, bowing slightly.

"It was a pleasure, Mademoiselle," he said before melting into the crowd. You felt a hand on your elbow, guiding you away from the group. Max's touch was firm, almost painful, and you stumbled slightly in your heels as he led your through the throng of people.

Your heart raced as they stepped into a quiet room upstairs, his hand moving from your elbow to the small of your back, pressing you into the cool, velvety wall. The warmth of his body was a stark contrast, his breath hot against your cheek.

"What's wrong?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper. He didn't answer, instead his hand moved to the zipper at the back of your dress, tugging it down with a force that sent shivers down your spine. The fabric pooled around your ankles, leaving you in nothing but your heels and a delicate lace thong. His eyes raked over you, his pupils dilated with desire.

"You're mine," he growled, his voice a possessive rumble that sent a thrill through you.

You felt a mix of fear and exhilaration as his hands roamed over your bare skin, leaving a trail of heat in your wake. You trembled, unsure of what to do, but your body responded to his touch, your breasts peaking as his thumb brushed against your nipple. He stepped closer, his breathing harsh and ragged.

"Do you understand?" His voice was low, almost a whisper, but it held a demand that you couldn't ignore. You nodded, your eyes wide with a mix of excitement and apprehension.

Max's hand moved to the back of your neck, his fingers tangling in your hair as he claimed your mouth in a bruising kiss. His tongue delved deep, tasting you, conquering you, leaving you gasping for breath.

"You're so naive," he murmured against your lips, his voice thick with desire.

"So innocent. You have no idea what that man wanted from you." He stepped back, his gaze raking over your exposed flesh like a predator assessing his prey.

"But you're mine. Only mine." His words were a declaration, a promise, and a warning all rolled into one. Your heart pounded in your chest, your breathing shallow as you took in the fierce possessiveness in Max's eyes.

You felt a thrill of fear mingle with the excitement that had been building since the moment he'd led you away.

"I don't know what you're talking about," you whispered, your voice trembling slightly.

Max stepped closer, his hand sliding down your side to rest on the curve of your hip. "You don't need to know. Just know that I'll always be here to protect you."

His thumb brushed against the sensitive flesh just above your underwear, sending a jolt of desire through you. You gasped, your body responding despite the tension in the air.

He leaned in, his breath hot on your neck. "But you have to understand," he continued, his voice a low growl, "that when I see you with someone else, all I can think about is claiming you, marking you as mine in every way possible." His teeth grazed your earlobe, sending a shiver down your spine. "Do you want that?"

Your voice was barely a whisper when you responded, "Yes." The single word was all the invitation he needed. Max's hand slid under the lace of your thong, his fingers finding their way to your wetness. He groaned, the sound a mix of relief and hunger.

"You're so wet for me," he murmured, his voice thick with lust. He kissed you again, his tongue delving deep as his fingers explored you, teasing and stroking until you were trembling with need.

You could feel his arousal pressing against you, a solid promise of what was to come. Your hands found his shoulders, gripping tightly as you arched into his touch, silently begging for more. He gave it to you, his touch growing more insistent, his kisses more demanding.

The surrounding room faded away, leaving only the two of them in a cocoon of desire. Max's hand moved from your hip to your stomach, then up to your breast, his thumb brushing over the hardened peak.

You moaned into his mouth, the sensation too much to bear. He broke the kiss, his eyes locking onto yours as he pinched your nipple, a small bolt of pleasure-pain that made you gasp.

"You're so responsive," he said, his voice filled with satisfaction. With a quick tug, Max's hand was back at your thong, pulling it aside. His finger slid inside you, and you gasped, your legs threatening to give out.

"You're so tight, so perfect," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. You felt your core clench around his digit, desperate for more. He chuckled, the sound dark and possessive, before adding another finger, stretching you.

"So eager for me." He kissed your neck, his teeth grazing your sensitive skin as he continued to play your body like a finely-tuned instrument. His thumb circled your clit, sending waves of pleasure crashing through your.

"You're going to come for me now," he murmured, his voice a command you couldn't resist. And you did, your body shaking with the force of your orgasm, your nails digging into his shoulders as you cried out.

Max stepped back, his eyes never leaving yours as he undid his bow tie and unbuttoned his shirt, revealing the defined muscles of his chest. He was a study in restrained power, his eyes dark with lust.

"You're so beautiful when you come," he said, his voice thick with need. He knelt before you, his hands sliding up your legs to push her thong aside. He kissed your inner thigh, the soft brush of his lips against your skin making you shiver.

"But I want more," he breathed. He stood up, his tall frame towering over yours, and picked you up effortlessly. You wrapped your legs around his waist, your arms around his neck as he carried you to a nearby couch. He laid your down, his body pressing into yours, his weight a delicious pressure.

His kisses grew more urgent as he unbuckled his pants, his cock springing free, thick and hard. He positioned himself at your entrance, the tip of him teasing your slick folds.

"Tell me," he whispered, his breath hot against your ear, "tell me that you're mine, that no one else can make you feel like this." Your eyes searched his, finding a fiery intensity that made your heart race.

"I'm yours," you gasped, "only yours, Max." The words were a heady incantation, and with them, you felt a surge of power, a rush of heat between your legs. He pushed into you, inch by inch, stretching you, filling you completely.

You moaned, the sensation overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and pain that made your toes curl. His hips moved in a slow, deliberate rhythm, each thrust sending waves of pleasure through your body. You felt him everywhere, claiming you, marking you as his own.

"Again," he demanded, his voice low and urgent. "Tell me you belong to me, that you're mine." Your voice was a whimper as you repeated the words, your body responding to his command. His grip on your hips tightened, his movements growing more insistent.

You could feel his need, a living force that seemed to pulse in time with your own. "Yes, Max," you breathed, "I'm yours." His eyes flared, a wild hunger in their depths, and he began to move faster, his strokes deep and powerful.

Your nails dug into Max's back, your legs tightening around his waist as you met each thrust with an eager moan. His skin was slick with sweat, the scent of him mingling with your own arousal. You felt the beginnings of another climax building, your body coiling tight with tension.

"Come for me," he groaned, his voice a desperate plea. You could feel him swelling inside you his muscles taut with the effort of holding back. Your eyes fluttered closed, and you let herself go, the wordless cry of pleasure ripping from your throat as your body convulsed around his.

Max followed you over the edge, his release a hot rush that filled you, his own roar of triumph echoing through the room. He pulled out of you gently, the sudden emptiness leaving you feeling both satisfied and craved. He bent down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"You're mine," he whispered again, his voice gentle now, the possessiveness tinged with a warm affection. You opened your eyes to find him smiling down at you, his eyes filled with love.

Max helped you to your feet, your legs wobbly and your dress still pooled around your ankles. He picked it up, holding it out so you could step back into it. The fabric slid over your skin like a lover's caress, the coolness a stark contrast to the heat of your passion.

He zipped you up with a tenderness that was surprising after his earlier ferocity. "Let's go back down," he said, his voice a low rumble, "You're going to stay by my side forever." You felt a thrill at his words, a mix of excitement and a hint of trepidation.

Max's possessiveness was like a drug, intoxicating and a bit frightening. But you knew you were safe with him, protected from the sharks that swam in his world. As you descended the stairs, you felt his hand on the small of your back, guiding you, keeping your close. When you re-entered the grand ballroom, the conversations and laughter washed over you like a wave.

Yet, the intimate moment you had shared upstairs seemed to create an invisible barrier around you. The world continued to spin, but it was just the two of you, locked in a dance of desire and belonging. You looked up at him, your eyes searching for reassurance, for the tenderness you knew was there beneath the stormy exterior.

"I love you," Max murmured, his thumb brushing gently against your cheek.

"I love you, too," you said, your voice small but filled with sincerity. The room seemed to hush around you, the music and the chatter of the masquerade ball fading into the background.

#formula 1 #f1 #masterlist #formula one #f1 imagine #max verstappen smut #max verstappen fanfic #max verstappen imagine #max verstappen one shot #max verstappen x reader #max verstappen #max verstappen x you

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pseudowho · 7 months ago

Text

Fright Night! Multi-Fic

The local fair has a Halloween fright night! Actors and zombies and terror, oh my! You drag your boyfriend to it...how does that go for you?

Gojo, Geto, Toji, Higuruma and Ino

18+, NSFW/suggestive in parts

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Gojo: Goes in smiling. Obnoxious laughter the whole way, and it only worsens when you're screaming at every single actor. As you cringe away from a dead-eyed bride, Gojo tickles your ribs until you squirm.

"Awww, baby, you scared? You're scared, right?"

As if in answer to his question, and received with heaps of cackles, you screech when some hideous creature with no teeth and bloodstained rags lunges at you from the dark.

"Satoru-- hold my hand--"

"--ahhh, yeah, okay...c'mere."

He pulls you in, and you scuttle to keep up with his long-legged stride. Still, the horrors continue and so does his mockery.

His teasing is relentless. Your fear is gradually replaced by indignant prickling anger. You take your chance, when it comes.

"You go in first," you beg Satoru, outside a horrifying old room full of dolls, "please, Satoru, check it out first before I go--"

He huffs as if actually bothered, but his shit-eating grin gives him away as he ambles inside. "Yeah, yeah, don't get your panties in a twi--"

You promptly shove the door closed with a bang! and yank a chair beneath the doorknob. You've heard rumours about this room; you are not disappointed. Satoru's voice sounds wary. The doorknob rattles just once, and you bite your lip with a smile.

"--hey...hey, babe, the...the dolls are moving."

Nervous laughter from the room. You try to hide the laughter in your voice.

"Oh yeah? You okay?"

"--OH, FU-- yeah, I'm fine. You know me, I'm the stronge--"

Satoru's voice cuts off with a profoundly girly screech, and the doorknob rattles violently while you twist with silent hilarity, tears streaming down your cheeks as you choke out.

"Ohhhh, nooo, Satoru, the door's stuck!"

More screeches, bangs and horrifying eerie noises, but you're too busy pressed forwards on your knees, laughing and laughing to the confused looks of passers-by.

"The dolls aren't dolls! THE DOLLS AREN'T DOLLS! BABE! LET ME OUT!"

A guy leans down to you, pointing at the door.

"Hey, uh...can we go in?"

You wipe tears of mirth from your eyes, bursting into laughter as you hear Satoru scream again.

"No...no, sorry buddy. This one's gonna be taken for a while, I think."

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Geto: Total con-artist. Though he croons to you, cloudsoft and soothing through your horror, he's the puppet master. The horror engineer. The king of manipulation.

Every time another actor leaps out to set fear aflame in your veins, Suguru only pretends to be surprised; he isn't. He's already led you around this maze three times, anticipating the flow of the actors, and bleeding you for maximum terror.

He doesn't want to admit how his cock twitches against his thigh every time you break down into a whimpering mess; but, he can't deny that he's getting off on this.

"Shhhh, shhh shhh shhh," he soothes, one arm holding you to his side while his lips and nose ghost the shell of your ear, "shhh, baby, it's okay...it's all just pretend. I'm here. I've got you."

You look confused, your memory tangled by fear; "I...I could swear we've been this way already, Suguru--"

"Trust me. I know the way. These mazes are all samey. You're just getting mixed up, silly. Come on."

He has distracted you again, of course. He walks forwards, looking back to you with a smile. You frown, looking down at Suguru's two empty hands...and wondering whose hand you are holding.

The scream you scream, as Suguru seamlessly replaces himself with a white-eyed, rotten-fleshed actor, sends a dribble of pre-cum down his thigh.

He's just waiting until he can get you home, switch off all the lights, and continue the scare trail straight into bed.

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Toji: Utterly unbothered, and smirks his way around. Some of the actors approach, take one look at him, and then turn tail to scare someone else. Anyone else.

But halfway round, he gets bored, and disappears. You're left, abandoned; alone. Toji wants to get in on the action.

You're surrounded by screams, and silence, and dry ice in the dark, and you turn on the spot, spinning, frantic, your heart pounding, your tongue dry, sweat dripping down the small of your back--

Until the sound of metal on metal. Something scraping along a wall. Footsteps heavier than your own heartbeat. And, the one small light source you have is blocked, as a monster of a man in a boiler suit, mask and axe fills the doorway.

The whimper that leaves you is audible; "...Toji?" As if you could be so lucky.

Silence. His heavy, laboured breathing. The footsteps begin towards you, slowly at first...before he runs.

You run, too, shrieking like a banshee, too loud for you to hear the occasional laugh beneath the monstrous man's roars. You find yourself chased down to a dead end, your back and palms flat against the wall, chest heaving, and he approaches slowly, watching you behind his mask.

The blade of the (very blunt) axe strokes down, down, down the centre line of your torso to stop just over your sex, and you whimper, mortified by the trickle of arousal that creeps through you.

"T-Toji--" You whisper to yourself, "T-Toji, where the fuck--please please please help me--oh my god ohmygod ohmygod--"

A shiver seems to go through the man, who leans down and whispers, in a voice so familiar that your jaw drops.

"Like bein' chased, huh? What about bein' caught? You like bein' caught?"

Judging by the way his boiler suit tents, Toji likes it, at least.

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Higuruma: Has not got the mental wherewithal for this, today. Perhaps another day, but not today. And it infuriates him, when his colourful imagination and adrenaline threaten to overtake his inherent logic that this is all just make-believe.

"For fuck's sa-- pull yourself together, Hiromi," he groans as another horrifying creature-person scuttles past in a contortionist twist. You're carried on his back, squealing and kicking into him, while he huffs at you with beleaguered fondness.

Every time something makes him jump, a noise of bewildered shock bursts out, and he growls at himself, running his hand back through his hair and pressing his forehead against a nearby wall.

A few actors, however, take one look at him and treat him as part of the furniture. Hiromi frowns.

"Some of them think I look scared enough, apparently."

You mumbled into his neck. "Scary enough, I think you mean. Look--"

You gently turn his face to a flaking full length mirror. Hiromi drinks himself in; still in a dishevelled suit and tie, sweatstains, coffee drip on his white shirt, and dark circles that surely have to be make-up.

Suddenly, it clicks.

"Ahhh," Hiromi breathes putting you down to your screeching indignation; he doesn't notice as you press yourself to the wall, instead rubbing his face and clothes on a discarded 'bloody' rag.

By the time he's finished, stepping slowly over to you, chin tilted down and looking down at you with beetle-black eyes, you feel a shiver running through you. He's...frightening. Clearly some awful spectral businessman, covered in blood and dirt and horror.

"You...wow. Yeah, Hiromi, you look...great."

Hiromi shrugs you onto his back with a satisfied little chuckle, and the rest of your scare trail is relatively unhindered. Passers-by skirt round him with a wary gaze, and the sinister little smile on his face only adds to the effect.

You stroke one finger down his chest, sultry and whispering.

"Hey, Hiro...stay like this, later, for...activities."

"You are utterly twisted, my love. I absolutely can."

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Ino: Just as scared as you. Absolute chocolate teapot. You'd have done better taking a puppy with you, probably, because the actors approach Ino thinking he can take it, and he absolutely can't.

If Takuma could have jumped into your arms, a la Scooby Doo, he would have. Alas, he simply pulls his balaclava down in groaning terror. When other visitors then scream at him, too, thinking he's part of the crew, he raises his balaclava back up with a suppressed sob.

"Baby-- I can't take it-- I'm too weak-- my heart--"

"Takuma, I--" You shriek, too, when some ghastly woman in a bloodstained nightdress appears. She runs for you both, and you and Takuma sprint away, hand-in-hand, half-laughing, and half-crying.

By the time you round a corner, slamming the door to trap yourselves in a dark room, you and Ino hold each other, panting in the gloom. You feel a familiar hard press against your belly, and look up at Takuma with utter disbelief. He blushes, his lower lip drawing up and looking aside with a grumble.

"--are you excited, Takuma--"

"--aww, shit, babe, you know he don't make any sense--"

His words cut off with a strangled moan as you grip him through his pants, and, biting your lip, lower to your knees. Takuma's jaw drops, his cock twitching up as it's released. You whisper up at him in the dark.

"...emotional support blow-job?"

"F-fuck yeah, emotional support blow-job, I can be your hero after that--"

A few people come to investigate the ghostly little moans coming from your room, but Ino blocks the door with one trembling, jittering foot until the moans crescendo.

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prentissmultiverse · 6 months ago

Text

Behind Fogged Windows

On a rainy night, you (fem!reader) and Emily Prentiss find yourselves tangled in the charged space of a parked car, where unspoken tensions finally come to a head. tw: smut, power dynamics, mention of death

(words: 4895)

The hum of the SUV engine filled the tense silence, a low, steady drone that matched the rain tapping against the windshield. Emily’s hands gripped the steering wheel, knuckles taut and pale in the glow of the dashboard lights. Her eyes were locked on the road ahead, jaw set in a way that made your chest ache and your stomach twist.

You turned your gaze back to the passenger side window, counting raindrops as they streaked across the glass, smearing the passing streetlights into watery streaks of gold and white. Anything to keep your mind off the weight of the silence between you. But it was impossible to ignore the occasional scoff that escaped Emily's lips or the way her fingers flexed against the wheel every now and then, betraying the storm brewing beneath her calm exterior.

You didn’t need her to say it. You already knew what she was thinking. You’d seen the anger flash in her dark eyes when your hand collided with the unsub’s face earlier, and the sharp edge of her voice when she pulled you aside afterward still echoed in your ears.

“You crossed the line, and you know it.”

And you did. But standing in that suffocating basement, staring at the lifeless bodies of three more women, three more victims who looked just like you, the rage had swallowed you whole. The unsub’s smug grin had been the match, and you, the kindling. You hadn’t even realized what you were doing until the sting of the punch echoed against the concrete walls.

Now, Emily wouldn’t even look at you.

Another sigh from her side of the car. This one was heavier, laced with something you couldn’t quite place, frustration, maybe, or disappointment. It cut deeper than the silence, leaving you restless in your seat.

“Emily,” you finally said, your voice soft, testing the waters.

Nothing.

“Emily, I—”

“Not now,” she interrupted, her tone clipped and final. Her fingers tightened on the wheel as the SUV turned onto the long stretch of highway that led to Quantico. “Just… not now.”

Her words silenced you, but they didn’t ease the tension. If anything, the chasm between you seemed to widen, leaving you grasping for something—anything—that might bridge it.

You stole a glance at her out of the corner of your eye. The sharp angles of her face were cast in shadows, her focus unwavering as the windshield wipers beat a steady rhythm against the rain. She looked impossibly composed, but you knew better. You’d worked alongside her long enough to know when the cracks were there, even if she kept them well hidden.

“I couldn’t just stand there,” you murmured, almost to yourself.

Her scoff was sharp this time, cutting through the low rumble of the engine. “That’s not the point.”

“Then what is the point?” you pressed, unable to keep the frustration from creeping into your voice. “We’re supposed to just sit back and let him—?”

“The point,” she snapped, finally tearing her eyes from the road to glare at you, “is that you let your emotions take over. You compromised yourself, and you compromised the team.”

Her words hit harder than you expected, but you refused to back down. “He killed seven women, Emily. Seven. And they—” Your voice cracked, and you swallowed hard, gripping the edge of your seat. “They all looked like me.”

For a moment, her expression softened, but it was gone in an instant, replaced by the same steely resolve she always wore when she was trying to keep her own emotions in check. She looked away, focusing on the road again, and the silence returned, heavier than before.

You turned back to the window, blinking away the sting in your eyes as the rain blurred the world outside. Minutes stretched into miles, each one heavier than the last. The distance between you felt unbearable, but neither of you seemed willing to cross it.

Then, as the SUV passed under the dim glow of an overpass, you felt it—a brief, almost imperceptible brush of her hand against yours where it rested on the center console. It was fleeting, so light you might have imagined it, but it sent a jolt through you all the same.

You glanced at her, heart pounding, but her gaze was fixed on the road, her expression unreadable.

The faint touch lingered like a phantom, sparking something between you that you couldn’t name but couldn’t ignore. You thought about saying something—an apology, an explanation, anything to chip away at the wall between you—but the words caught in your throat. You settled for stealing another glance at her, hoping to find a clue in the sharp line of her jaw or the tight set of her lips.

Nothing.

“I get it, you know,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. You weren’t sure she even heard you until her grip on the wheel faltered, the car veering just enough for her to correct it with a light pull.

Her scoff came next, brittle and full of disbelief. “Do you?”

“Yes,” you shot back, louder this time. “I get why you’re mad. I get why I shouldn’t have done it. But don’t stand there and act like you wouldn’t have felt the same way if it was you.”

Her laugh was humorless, a sharp exhale that cut through the cabin like a blade. “This isn’t about what I would feel. It’s about what I would do. And I wouldn’t risk everything we’ve worked for just to feel better for five seconds.”

Her words were cold, calculated, but there was something underneath them—something raw and unspoken that made your heart twist.

“That’s not fair,” you said finally, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “You don’t know what it’s like.”

Emily’s eyes snapped to you, sharp and full of fire. “Don’t you dare.”

For a moment, the tension between you was a living thing, crackling in the air like the storm outside. The rain had picked up, pounding against the roof and drowning out everything but the sound of your shallow breaths.

But then her gaze softened—just a fraction—and she turned back to the road, her shoulders slumping ever so slightly. “You can’t just lose control like that, not in this job. Not ever.”

You opened your mouth to respond, but the words died on your lips. She was right, of course. You’d let your emotions take over, and it had put everything at risk—your career, your credibility, even her trust.

But beneath her anger, you could see something else now. Something deeper. Something she wasn’t saying.

The rain continued to beat against the windshield as the SUV approached a red light. Emily slowed to a stop, her hands gripping the wheel like it was the only thing anchoring her. You turned to face her fully, the soft glow of the streetlights catching on her profile.

“I’m sorry,” you said finally, your voice trembling. “I didn’t mean to—”

“I know,” she said, cutting you off. Her voice was softer now. She still wouldn’t look at you. As the light turned green, she hesitated, her foot hovering over the pedal. For a moment, you thought she might say something, but then she shook her head and pressed forward, the car lurching back into motion.

The hum of the engine returned, a quiet backdrop to the sound of the rain drumming hard against the roof. The occasional flash of lightning lit up the interior of the SUV, casting fleeting shadows over Emily’s sharp profile. Her silence wasn’t as sharp as before, but it was no less weighted. It pressed against you, the unspoken words between you vibrating like a taut string.

You shifted in your seat, the leather cool beneath you, and risked another glance at her. Her dark eyes locked with yours, and for the first time that night, she didn’t look angry. She looked… conflicted. The storm outside had nothing on the tempest swirling in her eyes.

“What?” she asked finally, her voice low, almost a growl. The word wasn’t as biting as you expected, but it carried enough heat to send a shiver down your spine.

“I—” You hesitated, searching her face for something—permission, maybe, or understanding. “I just… I’m not good at holding it in. Not like you.”

Her jaw tensed, and she looked away again, but you caught the flicker of something in her expression before she turned. Something vulnerable. “That’s not an excuse,” she muttered, but there was less venom in her tone now.

“I’m not trying to excuse it,” you said quickly, leaning slightly toward her. The space between you felt unbearably wide, and the need to close it—to reach her—was almost overwhelming. “I’m trying to explain.”

She exhaled sharply, her grip on the wheel tightening again. “You don’t need to explain. I already know why you did it. I know what you were feeling.”

The words hung in the air, heavy and charged. You weren’t sure if she meant to say them aloud, but the way her throat worked as she swallowed told you she hadn’t planned to.

The SUV slowed as she pulled into an empty rest stop, the rain shimmering under the flickering fluorescent lights. She threw the car into park and turned off the engine.

Finally, she turned to face you, and the look in her eyes stole the breath from your lungs. There was still anger there, but it was layered with something else now—something darker, more intimate. The way her gaze swept over your face, lingering on your lips for just a fraction of a second too long, made your skin tingle.

“You’re always so in control,” you said softly, breaking the quiet. The words tumbled out before you could stop them, and you immediately regretted it when her jaw tightened.

Her laugh was low and bitter, barely more than a breath. “Is that what you think?” she asked. Her voice was calmer now, but there was an edge to it, like a wire pulled taut and ready to snap.

“Isn’t it true?” you pressed, unable to ignore the question burning in your chest. “You never let anything get to you. You’re always composed, always one step ahead. It’s like nothing fazes you.”

“You think I’m in control?” she repeated, her voice quieter now, almost disbelieving.

You nodded, your throat suddenly dry under the weight of her gaze. “You make it seem effortless.”

For a moment, she just stared at you, her dark eyes unreadable. Then she exhaled sharply and leaned back in her seat, her hand moving to rake through her hair. The movement was uncharacteristically unguarded, almost vulnerable.

“I’m not in control,” she said finally, her voice low but steady. “Not when it comes to you.”

Her admission sent a jolt through your chest, your heart thudding painfully as her words hung in the air.

“Emily…” You said her name carefully, as if speaking it too loudly might shatter the fragile moment.

“You don’t get it,” she continued, cutting you off. “Every time you’re close, every time you look at me like that—” Her voice faltered, and she swallowed hard, her eyes darting away. “I have to fight every instinct I have not to—”

She stopped abruptly, her teeth clenching as she turned back to face the windshield. Her fingers dug into the edge of the console now, and the sight of it made your chest tighten.

“Not to what?” you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

Her jaw worked as she clenched it, the tension radiating off her like heat. “Not to touch you,” she said finally, her voice so quiet you almost didn’t hear it. “Not to cross a line I can’t uncross.”

The raw honesty in her tone made your breath hitch. The woman who always seemed untouchable, unshakable, was unraveling right in front of you, and it made your pulse race in a way you couldn’t control. “I know what I want…”

Her lips parted like she was about to say something, but she stopped herself, looking away sharply. “You’re playing with fire,” she said finally, her tone measured, deliberate. “And I don’t think you’re ready for what happens if you get burned.”

Your heart hammered against your ribs as her words sank in. The warning in her voice should have scared you, should have made you pull back—but instead, it only drew you closer.

“Maybe I want to get burned,” you murmured, your voice trembling but steady enough to hold her gaze.

Her eyes darkened, and her grip on the console tightened. “You don’t know what you’re asking for,” she said, her voice low and dangerous, like a storm brewing just beneath the surface.

“Don’t I?” you challenged, leaning closer, the space between you shrinking. “Maybe it’s okay to lose control sometimes. Maybe it’s okay to—” You hesitated, searching her face for a sign, for anything that might give you courage. “To cross that line.”

Her head snapped toward you, her eyes narrowing as her jaw tightened. “You don’t get it. This isn’t just about what you want. It’s about what I can’t have. What I shouldn’t…” she said, her voice sharp, almost acusatory.

“You shouldn’t want me, I shouldn't want you...,” you interrupted softly, your voice trembling just enough to betray the emotions churning inside you. “I know that. I know all the reasons why this is wrong – b-but I want you, too…” you said quickly, shaking your head.

The silence that followed was deafening. Her gaze bore into you, unrelenting and intense, and you could see the war she was waging with herself. The lines around her mouth softened, but the tension in her shoulders remained, like she was teetering on the edge of a cliff and couldn’t decide whether to fall or pull herself back.

“Damn it,” she muttered under her breath, her fingers flexing against the console. Her eyes darted to yours again, and this time, they were filled with something raw and unguarded.

Her jaw tightened, the muscle ticking as she fought for control. For a long moment, she didn’t move, didn’t speak, and the silence between you grew heavier with every passing second. Then, with a slow, deliberate exhale, she shifted in her seat, reaching down to adjust the lever at her side.

The click of the seat sliding back was deafening in the quiet car. She leaned back, her shoulders pressing against the seat as she settled into the new space, her dark eyes fixed on you with an intensity that pinned you in place. She didn’t say a word, but the command was clear in the way her hands rested on her thighs, her fingers twitching like she was daring you to make the next move.

You swallowed hard, the weight of her gaze almost unbearable as you unbuckled your seatbelt and shifted toward her. Her hands were on you the moment you were close enough. Her strength was intoxicating, her presence overwhelming, and before you knew it, you were straddling her lap, her hands settling on your waist like they’d been there a thousand times before. The leather seat creaked beneath you, the only sound aside from the rain and your shallow breaths.

“Look at me,” she said, her voice quiet but laced with steel.

You did, your gaze locking onto hers as her hands slid up your sides, her touch measured and deliberate, as though she was reminding you—reminding herself—that she was still the one in control here. Her eyes were dark, her pupils blown wide, but there was no hesitation in them, no sign of the internal war you’d seen earlier.

“Do you know why I don’t let myself lose control?” she asked, her voice low and deliberate, her hands tightening slightly on your waist.

You shook your head, unable to find the words, too caught up in the intensity of her gaze and the steady, deliberate way her thumbs brushed against your ribs.

“Because when I do,” she continued, her tone soft but carrying the weight of an unspoken promise, “I don’t stop. I don’t hold back.”

The meaning behind her words settled over you, sending a shiver down your spine. Her grip on you shifted, her hands sliding lower, her fingers splaying across your thighs as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against your cheek.

“You think you’re ready for that?” she asked, her voice a quiet challenge, her lips so close to yours now that it was almost unbearable.

“I know I am,” you whispered, your voice trembling but certain.

Her lips curved, her approval subtle but unmistakable as her hands slid up, tracing the curve of your waist with a possessive, measured touch. The warmth of her palms seeped through the thin fabric of your shirt, leaving your skin tingling in their wake. “We’ll see,” she murmured, her voice low and laced with a dangerous kind of promise that sent heat pooling low in your stomach.

Her eyes locked onto yours, her gaze heavy with control and desire. The warmth of her hands seeped through your shirt as her fingers skimmed up your waist, deliberate in their exploration. “You’re so sure of yourself,” she murmured, her voice a low hum that vibrated in the space between you. “Let’s see if that holds.”

Her lips met yours with a commanding force, the kiss deep and unyielding, stealing the breath from your lungs. Her fingers slipped under the fabric of your shirt, her touch firm and purposeful as she mapped the bare skin of your ribs. The heat of her palms lingered wherever she touched, drawing soft gasps from you as your hands clutched her shoulders for balance.

Her lips left yours, trailing down your jawline, the scrape of her teeth against your pulse making your breath stutter. A soft sound escaped you—a gasp you couldn’t hold back—and she paused just long enough for her lips to curve into a faint smirk against your skin.

“You like that,” she murmured, her voice dripping with satisfaction, the words rolling over you like silk. “Good.”

The creak of the leather seat beneath you was sharp against the muffled rhythm of the rain now falling in earnest. The windows around you had begun to fog, blurring the outside world into nothingness. Her lips pressed to the spot just below your ear, lingering there with unhurried confidence, while her hands moved with certainty. One hand slipped higher, her fingers brushing the curve of your breast, teasing without fully giving in.

Her other hand at your waist slipped lower, her fingers hooking into the waistband of your pants. She paused, her gaze snapping back to yours, her dark eyes piercing through the haze between you.

“You’re going to let me, aren’t you?” The question wasn’t really a question, her voice carrying a weight that made refusal impossible.

“Yes,” you breathed, your voice trembling, the answer pulled from somewhere deep inside you.

Her gaze locked onto yours, dark and unrelenting, holding you captive in the charged space between you. The hand under your shirt slid even higher, the rough pad of her thumb finding your nipple through the lace of your bra. She pressed just enough to elicit a gasp from you, her touch precise as she began to circle, testing your sensitivity with each deliberate motion.

“Let’s get this out of the way,” she murmured, her voice low and commanding, her hands tugging at the hem of your shirt. You lifted your arms instinctively, allowing her to pull the fabric over your head in one fluid motion. She paused for a moment, her dark eyes roving over your exposed skin with an intensity that left your heart racing.

Her fingers found the clasp of your bra, and with practiced ease, she unhooked it, sliding the straps down your arms. The lace fell away, and the cool air of the car brushed against your heated skin, making you shiver under her gaze.

Her hand returned, cupping you fully now, her thumb brushing over your bare nipple in a slow, deliberate motion. The sensation sent a fresh wave of heat pooling low in your stomach, your body arching slightly into her touch. Her other hand settled on your waist, holding you steady, grounding you as her lips curved into a faint, knowing smile.

“You’re beautiful,” she murmured, her voice soft but filled with an authority that made the compliment hit deeper. Her thumb rolled over your nipple again, firmer this time, coaxing a breathless sound from you that she caught with a satisfied hum.

The hand on your hip moved with purpose, slipping beneath the waistband of your pants and brushing against your damp underwear with a deliberate slowness that made your breath hitch. The heat of her palm burned into you, her touch igniting a fire in your core as her fingers traced the edge of the thin fabric, the only barrier between you and her touch.

Each pass was maddeningly light, the barest graze that left your hips shifting instinctively toward her, chasing the contact. The smirk tugging at her lips was both infuriating and intoxicating, her dominance evident, taking her time to watch every quiver of your body under her hands.

"You're already shaking," she murmured, her voice low and dripping with satisfaction, her thumb brushing a line that sent a fresh wave of heat through you. Her teasing was intentional, her restraint designed to unravel you inch by inch, as if she could sense the tension coiling tighter in your stomach.

Her lips found yours again, her kiss more commanding this time. She nipped at your bottom lip before deepening it, her tongue sliding against yours in a rhythm that matched the way her fingers moved, stroking just enough to make your hips lift involuntarily toward her touch.

Emily leaned back slightly against the driver’s seat, her dark eyes fixed on you with a teasing intensity. “Impatient, aren’t you?” she murmured, her voice low and edged with dark amusement. Her lips brushed against yours as she spoke, the faintest contact that left you chasing her for more. She let the question linger, savoring the way your breath hitched when her fingers finally slipped beneath the last barrier of fabric, brushing against the slick heat that betrayed how much you needed her.

Her movements were slow, maddeningly precise, her fingers exploring every sensitive spot as if committing a map to memory. Your breathing became shallow, uneven, and when her touch finally found the place that made your body arch instinctively, she paused, testing. Her smirk deepened at your stuttered moan as she circled her fingers, slowly, deliberately, before pushing two fingers inside you. The pressure of her thumb on your nub increased just enough to draw a gasp from you.

Emily’s eyes werr locked with yours, her fingers never faltering in their rhythm as her free hand slid up your back, pulling you closer until her breath ghosted over your ear. “Go on,” she murmured, her voice a velvet command, low and rough enough to send a shiver down your spine. “Ride my fingers. Show me how much you want this.”

Her grip on your hip tightened, guiding you as she pressed her hand more firmly against you. The angle changed just enough to draw a sharp gasp from your lips, your body moving instinctively to meet her. Your fingers dug into her shoulders, seeking some anchor as the steady, insistent rhythm of her touch threatened to overwhelm you.

“That’s it,” Emily murmured, her voice dripping with encouragement as her eyes never left your face, dark and intent. “Take what you need.”

Her fingers moved in perfect synchronization with your movements, their pace matching the urgency you set. Each roll of your hips sent jolts of pleasure coursing through you, your breath coming in ragged bursts. Emily’s low hum vibrated against your chest, her hand on your hip holding you steady as you lost yourself in the sensations.

“You’re doing so well,” she whispered, her words melting into a kiss against your jawline, her lips brushing against your skin in a way that made your movements falter for just a moment. She didn’t let up, didn’t waver, her fingers coaxing you, urging you to keep going. “Don’t stop now. I want to feel you come apart for me.”

The sound you made was swallowed by her lips, the kiss deep and consuming as her other hand skimmed over your bare skin. Her touch was unhurried, deliberate, her palm warm as it traced the curve of your side before finding your breast again. Her thumb and forefinger brushed over your nipple with a precision that drew a soft, involuntary cry from you, her movements synchronizing perfectly with the rhythm of her hand and your hips below.

“You feel so good,” she murmured, her voice low and filled with a reverence that sent a shiver down your spine. Her lips brushed against your jaw as she spoke, the intimacy of her praise wrapping around you like a cocoon. The words were soft, almost a secret, meant only for you as she continued to unravel you piece by piece.

Her fingers below shifted as your movements became more urgent, her touch becoming more insistent, her pace quickening just enough to coax another moan from your lips. You clinged to her as your body arched into her touch, unable to resist the tension building with each precise movement. She tilted her head slightly, her breath warm against your skin as her lips traveled lower, leaving a line of kisses along the curve of your neck. Each press of her lips was slow, deliberate, designed to set your skin aflame.

“You’re such a good girl for me,” she purred into your ear, the words like molten heat. Her voice was rich, the approval in her tone unmistakable as her fingers moved with unwavering confidence, bringing you closer and closer to the edge. She drank in every gasp, every tremble, every moan, her hold on you steady and unyielding, as she guides you to ride her hand.

The praise sent a rush of heat through you, your body arching against hers as she took you higher. The fogged windows turned the world outside into a blur, all your focus narrowed to the way her fingers moved inside you, the way her lips claimed every sound you made. Her fingers pressed deeper now, her movements steady and confident.

Her lips found the curve of your neck, her teeth grazing lightly before pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along your skin. The contrast of her gentleness there and the unrelenting rhythm of her hand and your rolling hips left you reeling, every nerve in your body alight.

“You’re doing so well,” she murmured. The praise hit you with a force that made your chest tighten, your stomach fluttering as you arched closer to her, seeking more, needing more.

Your nails dug into the fabric of her shirt as you clung to her, barely able to keep yourself steady. She responded with a low hum of approval.

“Emily —” her name fell from your lips, broken and pleading, your voice trembling with need. She pulled back just enough to meet your gaze, her dark eyes locking onto yours.

“Come on,” she urged softly, her breath warm against your temple. “I want to feel you. Let me take care of you. Let go for me,” she said, her tone firm but filled with an intimacy that stole the air from your lungs.

Her words were a command and a promise all at once, her fingers pressing just right as the tension that had been building within you finally snapped. The world blurred at the edges as your body arched against hers, a strangled cry escaping you as waves of pleasure crashed through you, each stronger than the last. You fell apart in her arms, she held you through it, her touch never faltering, her kisses a steady anchor in the storm.

You collapsed against her, your forehead resting on her shoulder as you tried to catch your breath, your heart racing so hard you thought it might burst. But she didn’t let you go, her arms wrapping around you securely, holding you as though you were something precious.

Her lips pressed softly against your temple, the tenderness of the gesture a stark contrast to the intensity of what had just passed between you. “You’re safe,” she murmured, her voice low and soothing, her hand rubbing gentle circles into your back.

Even as your body trembled with aftershocks, the warmth of her embrace grounded you, a silent reassurance that she wouldn’t let you drift away. You closed your eyes, melting into her, feeling the steady rise and fall of her chest beneath you, and for the first time in what felt like forever, you let yourself surrender completely.

The rain outside had intensified, now battering the windows in rhythmic drumming that matched the pulse still thrumming in your veins. The fog had settled over the glass, blurring the world outside as if it was a dream—fuzzy, indistinct, just like the space between you two now.

#requests open #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss smut #emily prentiss fanfiction #lesbian emily prentiss #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds #criminal minds evolution

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darlinluxx · 3 months ago

Text

— 𝐏𝐑𝐎𝐌 | 𝐍𝐀𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐂𝐂𝐈𝐎 ౨ৎ

↳ now playing : prom by sza

pairing : natalie scatorccio x fem!reader

fluff

warnings : cigarettes, weed

a/n : thinking about going to prom with nat :(( <3

𝐓he corsage felt like a foreign object on your wrist, a delicate cluster of baby’s breath and pale pink roses. you smoothed down the silk of your dress, a light pink color that pooled at your ankles, and you took one last look in the mirror. perfect. you had spent weeks agonizing over every detail, from the exact shade of your lipstick to the way your hair cascaded down your back in soft waves.

prom. it was everything you’d ever dreamed of. expect, maybe you hadn’t dreamed of going with Natalie Scatorccio.

not that you didn’t adore Nat. you did, of course. intensely. she just wasn’t… prom. she was cigarettes and cheap liquor. she was the ghost of mischief that lingered in every hallway, a dare bubbling just beneath the surface of her eyes.

you heard the rumble of her beat-up car pull into the driveway, the engine coughing like a chain smoker. a nervous flutter erupted in your chest. you grabbed your clutch purse, took a deep breath, and walked out the door.

Nat was leaning against the hood of her car, a cigarette dangling from her lips, a smirk playing on her face. even though you knew her taste for things like that were probably unhealthy, she looked so alluring, so rebellious in that moment. she was wearing a thrift store suit that was slightly too big for her, the tie askew, but somehow she managed to make it look effortlessly cool.

“you look amazing.” she said, stubbing out her cigarette under her boot. the compliment, so simple and genuine, made your cheeks flush.

“you don’t look so bad yourself.”

she opened the passenger door for you with a flourish, and you slid into the worn leather seat, the scent of stale smoke and cheap cologne filling your nostrils. not exactly the romantic ambiance you’d envisioned.

“ready?” she asked, a glint in her eyes.

the prom was exactly as you expected. garish decorations, too-loud music, and a sea of familiar faces trying too hard to look like they were having the time of their lives. you danced a few slow songs with Nat, her awkward movements somehow endearing, but the whole thing felt… stilted. fake.

you were on your third glass of punch, the sugary sweetness doing little to quell the rising tide of boredom, when you felt Nat’s hand slip into yours.

“wanna get outta here?” she murmured, her breath warm against your ear.

the question hung in the air, a silent invitation to abandon the carefully constructed façade of prom night and embrace the thrill of something real. you looked into her eyes, saw the promise of adventure, and knew there was only one answer.

“definitely.”

she didn’t waste any time. within minutes, you were back in her car, the prom receding in the rearview mirror like a forgotten dream.

“where are we going?” you asked, as she navigated the familiar backroads.

“somewhere we can breathe.” she replied, her voice laced with a mischievous grin.

she drove further and further out of town, the landscape growing increasingly rural. finally, she pulled off onto a dirt road that led into a dense pine forest. the air was thick with the scent of pine needles and damp earth.

“c’mon,” Natalie said, grabbing a backpack from the back seat. “i know a spot.”

you followed her through the trees, the silk of your dress snagging on branches, your carefully styled hair becoming increasingly disheveled. you didn’t care. the weight of expectation had lifted, replaced by a sense of exhilaration.

you emerged into a small clearing, bathed in the soft glow of the moonlight. Nat spread a blanket on the ground and pulled out a small bag of weed. she sat down on the blanket and you sat down beside her.

“don’t tell me you’ve never done this before.” she said, raising an eyebrow.

you hasn’t. not with her, or really anyone. your crowd wasn’t the drug crowd. “i haven’t.”

she grinned. “then you’re in for a treat.”

you watched as she expertly rolled a joint and lit it, the flame of the lighter illuminating her face in the darkness. she took a long drag, held it in, and exhaled a cloud of smoke that dissipated into the night air.

“your turn.” Natalie said, handing you the joint.

you hesitated for a moment, then took a hit. the smoke burned your throat, and you coughed. Nat laughed, a low, throaty sound that sent shivers down your spine.

“easy there.” she said, guiding your hand.

after a few more tries, you got the hang of it. the world around you began to soften, the edges blurring, the sounds of the forest amplified. you laughed at something Nat said, a giddy, unrestrained laugh that surprised even you.

you lay back on the blanket, staring up at the stars, the universe unfolding before you. Nat was beside you, her hand intertwined with yours.

“this is so much better than prom.” you murmured, your voice slightly slurred.

“i told you,” she said, squeezing your hand. “we make our own magic, doll.”

surrounded by the darkness and the intoxicating haze of marijuana, you believed her. this wasn’t the prom you had dreamed of, but it was real. it was messy. it was you. and it was perfect.

the next morning, you woke up in your own bed, the faint smell of smoke clinging to your clothes, the corsage crushed on your nightstand. the memory of the night before was hazy, fragmented, but the feeling remained: a sense of freedom, of rebellion, of being truly seen by someone who didn’t care about your dress or perfect hair, but about the wild, untamed spirit that burned within you.

#i need to see her in a suit NOW #natalie scatorccio #natalie scatorccio x reader #nat scatorccio #nat scatorccio x reader #yellowjackets #yellowjackets x reader

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hopeyoufindalovelikethis · 3 days ago

Text

The World We Share

Hi there! I’m planning to go through and proofread my writings every night so I can share more with you. It may take a bit since I’m juggling work too, but I appreciate your patience and support. Sending big hugs!

Synopsis | After eight months with Sylus, trust deepens beyond words. In a quiet moment, she gives him a spare key—an unspoken promise of belonging. Grief lingers, but love blooms slowly, gently, offering them both a sanctuary they never thought they'd find.

It had been eight months since you first stepped into Sylus’s world—not just as a visitor, but as someone irreplaceable. His base in N109 Zone, once a fortress of steel and silence, now breathed with traces of your presence. The security system that once responded only to his voice had been reconfigured, its permissions rewritten to obey yours as well. Every door, every corridor, every sensor now recognized you like a second heartbeat to his own. You hadn’t asked for that kind of access—he simply gave it, like a quiet vow.

And yet, despite the reverent way his staff treated you, you never quite got used to the bowed heads and formal greetings. It was Luke and Kieran, the ever-rowdy twins who used to call you “Miss Hunter,” that you clung to most. Somewhere along the way, their stiff respect softened into warmth, their titles traded for something far more precious: “Big Sister.” They didn’t know what that meant to you.

Not fully.

•••

The explosion that took your home had stolen more than walls and warmth—it had taken your grandmother, and Caleb. Nights were the hardest. The world fell quiet, and in that silence, your grief whispered louder than ever. Sometimes you would curl into yourself and cry until your pillow was wet with longing and loss. But then Sylus came.

He never rushed you to move on. He simply stayed. Sometimes in silence, sometimes with a quiet hum as he stroked your back, pressed his head into yours, or placed a soft kiss on your temple. His hands, always so sure and strong in battle, grew gentle around you—tucking loose strands of hair behind your ear, cupping your cheek like you were something fragile, precious. He let you cry if you needed to. And somehow, his presence alone made the grief less suffocating—not feeling like drowning anymore.

No shame. No judgment. Just presence. Steady, unwavering.

•••

The soft glow of the security lights cast long shadows across the marble walls of Onychinus headquarters as the evening settled in. The hour had slipped past seven, and like instinct, your steps led you through the corridors of the tower until you reached the familiar door of Sylus’s office. The darkened glass shimmered with faint lines of light from the holographic displays within, and when the door slid open at your voice, Sylus didn’t look up right away. He was still seated behind his desk, crimson eyes following streams of data projected in the air before him.

He turned at the sound of your voice, eyes softening the moment they met yours. You told him you’d be heading home, adding quietly that if he was still working, you could make the trip on your own. Sylus chuckled under his breath, already lifting his hand to shut down the screens. One by one, the holograms dimmed and folded into nothing. He stood, his movements fluid as he slipped off his tailored suit and replaced it with his black leather jacket—the one that always felt more like him after business hours. Then, walking over, he reached out and gently took your hand.

"Not an option, Kitten," he said, voice low and certain. "I’m taking you home."

The basement garage echoed faintly with the hum of the sensor lights activating as he led you toward one of his formal vehicles—a sleek, polished car reserved for diplomacy and business. The moment you settled into the passenger seat, he reached over, buckled your seatbelt with the same tenderness he always did, then circled around to the driver’s side. With a press of his fingers, the engine came to life, and the gentle melody of a contemporary classical track filled the cabin, wrapping the two of you in a calm, shared silence.

The road out of N109 Zone was smooth, lined by dim city lights and the ever-hovering, cloud-veiled skies tinted with red. While the zone never saw sunlight, you always felt something warm in moments like this—with him. As you rode across the long bridge toward Linkon, you talked about Luke and Kieran, and how they brought you to the entertainment room in the base. You described their excitement showing you the space, their casual teasing, how they now called you "Big Sister" instead of "Miss Hunter." Sylus chuckled quietly at that, one hand on the wheel, the other resting on the gear with effortless control.

When you asked if he’d ever used the room himself, he simply shook his head. "Too noisy for me," he replied with a soft smirk. "I’d rather spend time with you, Kitten."

That simple statement made your chest flutter. He always said things like that—not dramatic or loud, but full of sincerity, as though every word he chose was meant to lay gently in your heart and stay.

The buildings of Linkon began to rise in the distance as the car eased into familiar streets. As your apartment complex came into view, a thought tugged at you—a quiet realization. Despite all the unrestricted access you held in Sylus’s domain, he had never stepped past your apartment door without your invitation. Not once.

Even when he dropped you off after picking you up from the office, he would stop at the lobby and never follow you to your unit unless you asked. When he came to visit, he would wait patiently downstairs until you arrived to bring him up yourself. He never questioned it. Never pressed. He respected the boundary like something sacred.

"Sy," you said, turning to him just as his eyes were already on yours. "Would you... want to come up with me later? Just for a bit. I can make you a drink. Or something sweet, maybe."

He looked at you, and though his voice remained as even as ever, his eyes shone a little brighter. "Of course. I’d like that."

You offered a gentle smile, before leaning back in your seat. With the skyline stretching behind you and the warmth of him sitting beside you, something felt right.

•••

After the car rolled to a gentle stop in front of your apartment, Sylus, ever the gentleman, stepped out first before circling the car to open your door. His tall frame moved with that quiet urgency he always had whenever it came to you.

The door clicked softly as he opened it, and as you stood, you leaned in and brushed a gentle kiss to his cheek, whispering a soft, “Thank you.”

He smiled, his hand resting on the small of your back as you walked together into the apartment. You entered the building and rode the elevator in a calm, shared silence. Once you reached your floor, Sylus paused by the door as you stepped forward. You pressed your thumb to the sensor of the smart lock, and it let out a soft chime of recognition. The door clicked open, and you turned to him with a smile.

“Come in, Sy.”

He nodded wordlessly and followed you in, stepping inside with measured grace. As he closed the door behind him, the familiar hush of your apartment wrapped around you both like a blanket. Sylus lingered near the entryway for a second longer, his eyes quietly scanning the space that he had only visited a few times before. But now, standing there, he seemed to take it in differently—deeper. His gaze moved slowly, as if memorizing every frame.

He saw the little stacks of history books on the side table, the glass vase of freshly arranged flowers on the kitchen counter, your painting easel still standing near the window, a canvas half-filled with soft pastels. He noticed the framed photo of your family—you, Grandma, and Caleb—tucked beside a small clock, the soft lighting from the floor lamp in the corner casting a warm gold hue across the room. Everything in this space whispered your presence—gentle, thoughtful, quietly vibrant.

Sylus's eyes softened as he took it all in. It was like stepping into the pages of your life. This wasn’t just a place you stayed—it was a piece of you. And standing inside it, invited, welcomed, was something he didn’t take lightly. His heart, which had always carried the weight of power and calculation, swelled in a different way now—something tender, reverent.

“Just sit down for a bit, okay?” you said gently. “I need to put my things away first, then I’ll make you some tea.”

He nodded, slipping off his black leather jacket and folding it neatly over the armrest before sinking into the sofa. You disappeared into your bedroom, setting your bag in its usual spot, then knelt beside the drawer where you kept small valuables. You retrieved the spare key you had long reserved without knowing when you’d ever use it. Your fingers closed around the cold metal, and for a brief second, you just stared at it, your heart swelling. Smiling to yourself, you slipped it into your pocket and stepped out into the soft light of the living room.

You began preparing chamomile tea for him, your hands moving easily through familiar motions. From the kitchen, you chatted across the space—he told you about his day, using his usual careful metaphors when it came to his work, using gentle words to veil the harsher truths he faced daily. It was one of the things you quietly adored about him. No matter how dark his life got, he always softened it for you.

When you returned with the tea, you handed him the cup and joined him on the sofa. You sat for a few minutes, sipping and sharing quiet glances. His fingers brushed yours as you reached for your own cup, and you could feel the unspoken affection blooming stronger in the soft space between you.

Then, gently placing your cup down, you stood and said casually, “I think I left a package downstairs. I’ll go check.”

You walked over to the door, and with silent precision, tapped a few settings on the panel, prompting the system to prepare for fingerprint registration.

Then you called out lightly, “Sy… something’s wrong with the lock. Can you check it for me?”

He stood immediately and approached, his brows slightly furrowed in concern.

“Let me see,” he murmured, stepping behind you. “Move back a little.”

As you shifted, you took his hand gently, lifted his thumb, and pressed it against the scanner.

The small device lit up, and the soft chime rang out: registration complete.

Sylus blinked, caught between confusion and realization. He looked at you, unsure if he had understood correctly, and before he could speak, you pulled the key from your pocket and held it out in your palm.

“In case the door system ever malfunctions,” you said softly, your voice warm but a little nervous, “you can still come in.”

For a moment, Sylus didn’t move. He simply stared at you—his usually unreadable eyes now glimmered with something deeper, something tender. Then he slowly took the key, holding it like something sacred. He turned back to the door, as if needing a second to believe this moment was real, then faced you again.

His smile broke across his face, slow and full, lighting up his features with that rare softness he reserved only for you.

“Thank you,” he said, voice low and reverent. “Thank you for trusting me, sweetheart.”

And before you could say another word, he stepped forward, cupped your cheek gently, and kissed you.

It wasn’t rushed. It was deep and lingering, a kiss that said more than words ever could. A kiss that spoke of quiet promises, of the life you were building together—unfolding step by step, gesture by gesture. He kissed you like you were the only thing that had ever made sense in his world. And in that moment, you knew—he would treasure this key not as a symbol of access, but as a piece of your heart placed in his hand.

The night held you both gently after that, and you let yourself melt into him, knowing with certainty that love—true love—had found a home in you both.

#love and deepspace #love and deepspace fanfiction #lads #lads fanfic #love and deepspace sylus #lads sylus #sylus x reader #sylus x you #reader x sylus #you x sylus

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backtothedrawingboard · 2 months ago

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Take A Break part 2 but it turns into a tickle fight

Take a Break Part 2

Switch!Doey + Switch!Reader

Summary: You plan on doing one of Poppy's tasks again, even after agreeing with Doey to take it easy for a while. While the two of you relax, chaos ensues.

CW: Tickle fic, cussing, mentions of starvation

TW: None

AN: Part 2 of this fic!

~~~~~~~~~~

The wiring was annoying as hell. You growled and tore out the useless stuff. Poppy's instructions to fix the lighting pissed you off. You weren't even an engineer. Why did she always give you the mechanical stuff?? You held the flashlight in your mouth so both hands were free as you fiddled with the lighting.

It had been a couple days since Doey forced you to relax. You appreciated his care for you...but it just led to a more difficult job of fixing the damn lights. Just those two days caused the system to break down more and melted the wiring together. You took the parts retrieved from a scavenge and replaced the old broken down pieces. You flinched when bright lights filled the lobby. Finally.

You stood up and rubbed the back of your head wearily. Now to find food. You headed towards the infirmary to exit through the sewer system. As you walked, a large hand grabbed your shoulder.

"Hey, wait," the deep, comforting voice said. You turned and looked up.

"Oh. Hey, Doey. What's up?" you asked.

"Are you doing more scavenging?"

"Yeah. Gotta find some food. Why?"

Doey's expression turned serious. "I'm coming with you," he growled. "I don't like you being out there by yourself. And besides, I can carry more than you."

You smiled. Ordinarily, you would decline the offer. But the company sounded nice. "Alright. I was thinking we could look by the offices. There could be some snacks we missed last time."

You led the way out of the Safe Haven and started the trek to the office wing. It was risky with the Prototype out there, but there was a good chance of finding something there.

The scavenge proved more than successful. Doey had accidentally bumped into a large chunk of debris and revealed a door neither of you were aware of. Inside, there was a decent store of canned goods and snacks. The two of you collected absolutely everything. It was enough for everyone in the Haven to have a small portion and put the rest in the pantry to ration.

The success put both you and Doey in a good mood. You arrived back at the Haven and dumped the goodies on the ground. The kids all excitedly swarmed. No surprises there. You, Doey, and Kissy helped separate portions for everyone. The sickest and those that were starving got more than the rest. Their survival depended on it.

You put the remaining rations in the pantry. Before leaving, you snatched yourself your share: a couple pieces of canned mango. You headed back to the lobby and settled on your sleeping bag. Doey was next to you on his pillow pile, nibbling at a piece of peach and some chocolate. You grinned at him.

"Trying to savor it?" you teased.

Your friend smiled sheepishly and nodded. "Ehe. Yeah. I haven't had anything sweet in a long time."

"Yeah. Me neither." You sucked down your mango pieces ravenously. Doey laughed.

"Jeez! How did you not choke?" he giggled.

"I dunno!" you giggled with him.

The doughman finished off his rations and sat back with a sigh. "Thank goodness we found food when we did...I don't know how long most of them would've lasted," he muttered.

You sighed and nodded. "Yeah. Hopefully Izzy will be alright now..."

"I'm sure she will be. She's always been a fighter"

A comfortable silence fell between the two of you as you looked out at the rest of the lobby. With a little food in their bellies, some of the toys played a game of soccer with their newfound energy. You sighed and stood. Doey looked up at you in confusion.

"What're you doing?" he asked.

"Ugh. Poppy told me to-"

"Poppy told you to do something? Seriously?"

You looked down. "Uh. Yeah," you murmured.

The doughman shook his head in exasperation. "Y/N. We talked about this. We both need to relax for a while. The lighting had to be fixed, but I know for a fact nothing else is required now. A couple days isn't enough to recover from a mental breakdown." He set a hand on your back. You nodded a little and leaned against him, settling your head against his chest.

He sighed and played with your hair gently. "Does this mean you'll relax a little?"

"Y-yeah..." you mutter. "I guess I could still use a break..."

"Good. Cause I always know a method that'll work for you." You could hear that silly tone in his voice. It always meant he was up to something. You looked up just in time for his fingers to dig under your arms.

"Eee! Wait! Doeheheheheeey!" you giggled.

"Hehe! Yeeees?" He wiggled his pointer fingers, causing you to squeak and kick a little.

"Heheheeey! Whyyyyy?"

"Why? Cause you need a laugh!" Two more hands sprouted from his torso and grabbed your waist. You squealed and jumped as the fingers squeezed your ribs and hips.

"Doeyyyahahaha!" you cried. You bucked and squirms from the left and right and gripped the hands on your hips frantically.

"Hehehe! No escape! Unless you tell me to stop!" He grinned down at you and narrowed his eyes. Your face went red. You didn't protest, just laughed and squirmed.

Doey giggled and tweaked your ribs. You squeaked and jolted at each pinch.

"Awww! Is that a bad spot?" he teased. You giggled and nodded, hiding your face in your hands.

"Heyyy! Dont hide your face!" He halfheartedly pulled at your hands but didn't force them away. You squealed and kicked.

"No no! Not there! Kkkehehehehe!" You squirmed. His fingers were pinching in between your ribs and sending jolts of tingles through your body.

"Oh? Not here? How about here? Or here? Or here?" He pinched different ribs, causing you to lean against him further and giggle madly.

"Eheheee! Doeheheheeey!" You kicked yourself somewhat free and managed to turn and face him.

"Whaaat?" he teased. "I'm just cheering you up!"

"Yeah? Wehell take THIHIHIS!" You squished his belly in your hands. You didn't know if it would work or not but-

"Heheheey! D-don't do that, pal!" Score.

You grinned and kept squishing. "Oh? Why's that? A little ticklish?"

"Yes!" Doey giggled. "Very! Hehehehe!" He squirmed against you. His hands clutched the sides of his head rather than pushing at yours.

"Awww! What're you doin' bud?" you snickered.

"I don't- hehehe!- I don't wanna hurt you!" he cried.

"Awwww. I appreciate the concern. But now that just means I can do this!" You skittered your fingers up under his arms. A wheeze escaped him and his hands slammed down to his sides.

"Oops! Guess I'm stuck here now!" you teased. You wiggled your fingers vigorously. He wheezed again and kicked his stubby legs a bit.

"Oh my gohohoHOHOOOSHHH!" He squealed and twisted around. His laugh went up and down in pitch.

"D'awwwww! You have a cute laugh bud!" you giggled.

"Shush! I do nohot!" He covered his eyes with his hands.

"Yes you doooo! Just the cutest laugh!" You pulled your hands free and skittered your fingers all over his torso.

Doey squealed with laughter. His little legs kicked every which way and he rolled from side to side. "You little-!"

"What? Bitch? Is that what you were gonna call me?"

"Hey!" Your friend tried to sound serious, but it was hard to through his giggles. "Don't cuss!"

"Yeah, yeaEEE!" He grabbed your sides and poked them repeatedly. You toppled against him and giggled against his chest.

"That's what you get for cussing!" He squealed when you kneaded his sides.

"And that's what you get-" You were cut off by your own snort. "-for fighting back!"

Doey laughed, both at you and because of the tickles.

You felt four hands poking and skittering all over your sides and belly, occasionally wandering to squeeze your knees and lower thighs. You couldn't help but flail against him and laugh, but you held strong and squeezed his belly and sides.

"Doey! Nohohot theheERE!" You couldn't stand the hip and rib squeezes.

"Then gihive up!" Doey teased. You stopped tickling him and squirmed madly, trying your hardest to wiggle away.

"OK! Ok! You wihin! Stahahahahaaaap!" you cried.

The doughman let go of your ribs and hips, retracting his extra set of hands back into himself. You pulled you close and rubbed your back gently. "Hehe. There we go. Glad you took that break?" he murmured.

You nodded and yawned. "Yeah. Thanks." You leaned against him and settled with your head on his lap. He smiled down at you and rubbed your arm.

"Remember, pal. It's alright to take it easy every now and then. Your health matters just as much as any of ours," he said softly.

"Yeah. I know...Thank you..."

#poppy playtime #poppy playtime chapter 4 #poppy playtime doey #poppy playtime fanfic #doey the doughman #doey + reader #sfw tickle fic

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bringbackthebaylights · 1 year ago

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Donate Now to Bring Back the Bay Lights

UPDATE: $6m pledged. Four more $1m pledges and the project is a go! Crowdfunding of 11th million continues here. Widely considered one of the world’s great public art projects, The Bay Lights’ current system of LEDs is failing at a rate faster than can be repaired. They must be replaced with a new system that is custom engineered to perform in the harsh environmental conditions of San Francisco Bay. On March 5th, on the 10th anniversary of its initial Grand Lighting, the artwork will go dark.

In total, $11M is needed for their return. We are raising ten $1M gifts from major philanthropists. This crowdfunding campaign seeks to raise $1M in smaller gifts, allowing everyone to participate.

The good news: with your help, The Bay Lights by artist Leo Villareal will return more magically than ever. The number of programmable LEDs will double to nearly 50,000, making the artwork visible to communities around the Bay. And for the first time, we seek to have the lights be safely visible to drivers on the Bay Bridge, creating a world-class nighttime public art portal into San Francisco.

The San Francisco-based art nonprofit Illuminate is leading this effort. Please join us in helping return this public art masterpiece. Your gift of any size will help. We will do this collectively, one dollar, one hundred dollars, or $1M at a time.

All gifts made to The Bay Lights 360 campaign are restricted and will be used only to cover Bay Lights-related expenses.

#san francisco #the bay bridge #donations #Bay Lights #Leo Villareal #donate now

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gurugirl · 1 year ago

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coming soon to tumblr | handyman!harry

821 word teaser - 10k+ one shot already posted on Patreon.

One shot summary: When you inherit your aunt's estate after she passes away, you hire Harry to fix up the old house but that's not all he winds up being good for. Based on this request.

. . .

Everything flowed so nicely with Harry. He was easy to talk to and you trusted that he knew what he was doing. And it didn’t hurt that his voice was soothing and deep and slow. You could listen to him talk about solid hardwood versus engineered hardwood all day long if he let you.

“Well, I’ll be heading out now I guess. Be back first thing in the morning and start on this porch.”

You walked him to his big truck and shook his hand again, thanking him for taking the job and feeling a bit overwhelmed and emotional at everything.

Overwhelmed because Harry was so genuinely kind and you knew immediately you could trust him completely. Which just added to his charm and sex appeal. You really tried to push down the fact that he was so stunningly attractive because that wasn’t going to do you any good. And even though Mr. George told you he was single, you couldn’t imagine that was true. Someone as yummy-looking and kind-hearted as Harry? There was no way he wasn’t at least seeing someone.

But you were also emotional because you were finally going to get to see your aunt Gayla’s house restored to its original glory. It was going to be a real labor of love but it felt so good to be doing it. You had never felt so sure you were on the right path in life until that day. Until Harry arrived with his big truck and assured you that you’d get everything you wanted and that it would end up being even better than before.

And for the first time since you moved into that old house, you sat down and began to write. You’d gotten nearly ten thousand words written and were awake well into the wee hours of the morning typing away with the sudden inspiration you’d gotten. You fell asleep with your laptop next to you when you couldn’t hold your eyes open any longer.

You were woken to the sound of pounding and clanking and creaking which had you startled as you sat up in your bed and looked around your bedroom. The sun filled the space with light and you picked up your cellphone to note the time and saw a missed call from Harry.

Wrapping your robe around yourself you ran down the stairs all frazzled and rushed and burst onto the front porch, tripping over a stack of fresh boards and landing on your knees and palms like an idiot.

“Hey… hey…” you heard Harry’s deep voice from behind you as he slid his hands under your arms to help you up, “You okay?”

“Oh my god…” you croaked out the first words of the day from your throat, “I just woke up and realized you were here and… Sorry!”

He turned you to face him and looked down over your knees and lifted your palms upward to inspect, “Let’s get you cleaned up. Took quite the spill there. Sorry, I shouldn’t have stacked those boards right there.”

You felt your heart calm as he led you into your kitchen. He was so gentle with you, which for some reason you hadn’t expected. You knew he was kind but this seemed very much outside of the scope of his job description, “No, it’s fine! It’s me. I’d probably trip over the boards no matter where you had them stacked. I’m a bit of a nervous nelly. And when I woke up I just… I was startled. Fell asleep late and didn’t set an alarm…”

Harry grinned at you as you ran your faucet and put your hands under it, “It’s fine. No need to rush or get all riled up. I got here a bit early and when you didn’t answer I just figured I’d start on the porch. Think I’ll replace your doorbell as well. It’s not working either.”

You dried your hands and smiled at Harry, “I’ll get you a key before you leave today. In case I’m not here or I’m sleeping again. Sorry… I just had this burst of inspiration last night and typed until I passed out. It’s…”

“You’re fine,” you watched his eyes drop down to your torso and then bounce back up quickly to your face.

When you looked down at yourself you realized your robe was twisted and while all your bits were covered, they were barely covered.

“Jesus fucking Christ… I’m sorry, Harry. I’m a mess…” you pulled the material into place and adjusted the robe.

Harry put his hands at the tops of your arms, “Hey… you’re fine. Take a breath. It’s a beautiful morning and the birds are singing, and just look at this view…” he motioned toward your window where you could see trees and lush green grass stretch along the front of the house, “Now… Do you have some alcohol to clean up the cuts on your knees?”

. . .

If you'd like to have early access content (like this) and exclusive Patreon-only posts please consider joining my Patreon!

xoxo

General tag list: @michellekstyles @yousunshineyoutempter @tenaciousperfectionunknown @golden-hoax @swiftmendeshoran @luvonstyles @tiaamberxx @lukesaprince @closureesny @justlemmeadoreyou @itsgigikay @angelbabyyy99 @lanadelharry @novasblogofstuff @gills-lounge @damnasstyles @malwtilda @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @0oolookitsme @babybunharry @anothermannharry @love-letters-to-uranus @itjustkindahappenedreally @ssaama @onlyangellucifer @harryistheonlyoneforme @butdaddyilovehim-hs @reveriehs @lc-fics @mema10 @carmenxharry @hannahdressedasabanana @babegoalsreads @harrrrystylesslut @elidoho @bananabk9756 @gotdrxnkonu @freedomfireflies @cathy-1997 @imgonnadreamaboutthewayyoutaaaa

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swiftiethatlovesf1 · 5 months ago

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Vegas celebration

Heyy guys, I hope you enjoy this George one-shot inspired by him winning the last race in Las Vegas !!

If you want to read more stories of mine here's my masterlist.

The Las Vegas night was alive with energy, the city's glittering lights casting a glow that seemed to echo the joy in the hearts of the Mercedes team. George Russell and Lewis Hamilton had just claimed a double podium at the Grand Prix, and the team decided there was no better place to celebrate than a swanky nightclub right off the Strip.

Toto Wolff, your father, had been uncharacteristically relaxed, his usual stern demeanor replaced with a rare smile as he toasted with the team. You, however, were more interested in the people who made these moments possible. Particularly George, who stood near the bar, his face alight with laughter as he recounted the highlights of the race to a group of engineers.

"Go say hi, Y/N," Lewis teased when he caught you glancing over. His grin was mischievous, and though you rolled your eyes, the encouragement was enough to nudge you forward.

As you approached, George spotted you and broke into a warm smile. "Y/N! I didn’t know you were joining the celebrations."

"I wouldn’t miss it," you said, raising your glass slightly. "Congratulations on the win. You were incredible out there."

George’s cheeks flushed faintly, a mix of the club’s lighting and your words. "Thank you. It’s all a team effort, though."

"You’re too modest," you replied, stepping closer to be heard over the thrum of the music. "You were brilliant, George. Truly."

For a moment, the noise and chaos of the nightclub seemed to fade as he looked at you, his gaze soft and appreciative. "That means a lot, Y/N. Really."

A new, upbeat song began playing, and George glanced toward the dance floor, where some of the team members were already swaying. He extended a hand toward you with a sheepish grin. "Would you like to dance?"

You hesitated briefly but then placed your hand in his. "Why not?"

He led you to the dance floor, his movements confident yet relaxed. The two of you fell into an easy rhythm, laughing as you matched each other’s steps. The club’s lights flickered above, casting a kaleidoscope of colors over his bright smile and the way his eyes sparkled when he laughed.

"I didn’t know you could dance," you teased, spinning under his arm.

"Well, I have a few hidden talents," he shot back, his tone playful.

The song shifted to something slower, more intimate, and George hesitated for a second before placing a hand lightly on your waist. You moved closer, and the world around you seemed to shrink.

"You really did deserve this," you said quietly, looking up at him. "More than just the cup, George. You deserve every bit of happiness tonight."

He gazed at you, his expression softening into something that made your heart race. "That’s kind of you to say, Y/N. I couldn’t have done it without the team—without people like you."

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The music was a distant hum, and the only thing you could focus on was the way he looked at you, as if you were the only person in the room.

"Come with me," you whispered, taking his hand and leading him outside.

The cool night air was a stark contrast to the heat of the club. Las Vegas stretched out before you, its lights shimmering against the dark sky. George stood beside you, his hand still loosely holding yours.

"George," you said, turning to face him fully, "you’re an amazing driver, but beyond that, you’re a good person. And sometimes, I feel like you don’t let yourself believe that."

His eyes searched yours, his usual composed demeanor cracking slightly. "I don’t always feel like I’m enough. But...hearing that from you, Y/N—it means the world."

You stepped closer, heart pounding. "You are enough. More than enough."

Before you could second-guess yourself, you leaned in and kissed him, your hand resting lightly on his cheek. He froze for a moment, then kissed you back, his hands finding their place on your waist as he pulled you closer.

When you finally pulled away, the world seemed to pause. George’s lips curved into a small, stunned smile. "Wow," he said softly, his voice tinged with awe.

You laughed nervously, stepping back slightly. "Sorry, I—"

"Don’t apologize," he interrupted, his hand gently catching yours. "I...I’ve been wanting to do that all night. Maybe longer."

Your cheeks warmed, and you couldn’t help but smile. "Well, I’m glad one of us finally did."

The two of you stood there for a moment, the buzz of the Strip blending into the background as you lost yourselves in each other’s presence.

"Do you think your dad’s going to kill me?" George asked suddenly, though his tone was lighthearted.

You laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet night. "Only if you don’t take me on a proper date after this."

"Deal," he said, grinning as he intertwined his fingers with yours.

As you both headed back inside, the night felt different. Brighter. The podium celebration may have been the highlight for the team, but for you and George, it was just the beginning of something much more.

#f1 imagine #f1 #f1 x reader #formula 1 #george russel imagine #george russel x reader #george russell #las vegas gp 2024

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winchesterwild78 · 8 months ago

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A Birthday Worth Celebrating

Characters: Jensen x reader

Warnings: drinking, SMUT!, fluff

A/N: Just a quick story inspired by a request from @lmg14. I hope I do your request justice. This is a work of fiction and does not depict real life. No disrespect to Jensen or his family. In this he is single and does not have children. All work is my own, please don’t take it or pass it off as yours. Reblogs and feedback are welcome.

Minors DNI 18+

The strobe lights pulsed, casting a kaleidoscope of colors across the dance floor. Laughter and music filled the air, creating a vibrant atmosphere that matched the electric energy coursing through your veins. You were celebrating your birthday with your closest friends, and tonight, you were feeling alive.

As you twirled and danced, your gaze occasionally drifted towards a group of men seated at a nearby table. One man, in particular, caught your attention. His eyes, a piercing shade of green, held a captivating intensity that drew you in. Each time you looked up, you found him watching you, a soft smile playing on his lips.

The night wore on, and you found myself dancing less for your friends and more for him. Moving with a newfound sensuality, your body swayed to the rhythm of the music as you caught glimpses of his admiring gaze. The men at his table seemed to notice your attention, their expressions encouraging him to make a move.

A surge of confidence, fueled by the whiskey he had been drinking, propelled him towards you. As he approached, you realized who he was. Jensen Ackles, a man you had admired for years, was standing before you. He introduced himself with a charming smile and asked you to dance.

Your bodies moved in perfect harmony as you danced together. The initial awkwardness quickly dissipated, replaced by a palpable chemistry that ignited between you. As the song "Into the Night" by Santana began to play, Jensen pulled you closer, his breath fanning against your ear.

The heat and desire between you grew with each passing moment. Jensen leaned in, his lips brushing against yours. You moaned into his mouth, melting into his embrace. He whispered in your ear, "Let's get out of here, darlin'."

Your heart pounded in your chest as you nodded in agreement. Jensen took your hand and led you out of the bar, his touch sending shivers down your spine. As the two of you reached his car, his hands roamed over your body, igniting a fire within you.

The need between the two of you was palatable. Opening the car door you climbed in as Jensen walked around to the driver’s seat. His car’s engine roared to life as he put the car in drive.

Heading towards his house your heart was pounding with anticipation. You had been a fan of his for years and you couldn't believe you were in his car, heading to his house. He took your hand in his and kissed the back of it.

“Almost there sweetheart.” He smiled over at you. You nodded and swallowed hard. This is really happening. You’re about to go to Jensen’s house, on your birthday no less.

He pulled into his driveway and this beautiful home stood before you. Your breath hitched. Jensen put the car in park and walked around, opening your door. “Welcome to my home.” He took your hand and helped you out of the car. “Jensen, it’s beautiful.”

Jensen walked you up the steps and opened the door. As you stepped in Jensen closed and locked the door. Your heart was pounding in your chest, and your body filled with anticipation.

“Shall we sit?” Jensen motioned to his sofa. You nodded. “Want something to drink? Beer, whiskey, water?” “I’ll take a whiskey.” “Sure thing sweetheart.” He grabbed two small glasses and poured some whiskey. He handed you one and he took the other.

Taking the glass to your lips, you parted your mouth allowing the amber liquid to pour into your mouth. Jensen swallowed hard as he saw your tongue sweep over your lip, licking the alcohol off. He placed his glass to his lips and you saw how his bottom lip clung to the rim of the glass. A shiver went through your body.

You downed your drink, and Jensen did too. The sexual tension was intense. You set your glass down and stood over Jensen. He leaned over, sitting his glass on the table, and pulled you onto his lap.

You placed your legs on either side of his and leaned up to kiss his lips. Jensen’s hands ran up your sides and into your shirt. You moaned. Jensen’s lips ghosted yours, “So beautiful”.

As Jensen’s hands went up your shirt he lifted it off and over your head. Revealing your red lace bra. Your fingertips played with the hem of his shirt and he leaned forward helping you remove it.

His chest was toned and dusted with freckles that matched the ones on his face. You moved your hips down onto him, feeling his hardness in his pants. Leaning forward you kissed his lips.

As you pulled back, inches from his lips you whispered, “I need you Jensen, please.” Jensen stood and lifted you like you weighed nothing, “Come on sweetheart, let’s go upstairs.”

He sat you down and the two of you bounded up the stairs towards his room. Giggles and laughter filling the house as the two of you made it to his room.

He pulled you in and closed the door with his foot. Jensen guided you back to the bed and you sat down. He leaned you back and put his fingers in your waistband. You nodded and he removed your pants.

Leaving you in your red lace bra and matching panties. Jensen let out a growl. You bit your lip. “You are so fucking beautiful, Y/N.” Your cheeks filled with a blush as deep as crimson.

Jensen removed his pants, leaving him in his boxers. You could see his hardened member through the material. The anticipation started to build.

You leaned up and kissed Jensen as he unhooked your bra, letting your breasts spring free. His lips trailed down your collarbone, leaving a trail of heat in their wake.

The scruff from his beard rubbed against your delicate skin. Your breath quickened as he kissed and sucked your nipples.

Throwing your head back, you moaned loudly. You felt his thick cock on your thigh and you moved so you could tease him.

“Mmm yes baby. You like that?” You nodded enthusiastically. Jensen’s fingers played with the waistband of your panties. You nodded and he pulled them off quickly. Almost ripping the delicate material.

You gasped and he grinned. His fingers found your folds. “Already dripping wet for me? You just can’t wait to have this cock can you darlin’?”

You bucked your hips into his hand. “Jensen please” you whined. “Mm such a needy birthday girl, aren’t you.” You shook your head yes.

Jensen inserted two fingers into your pussy and you gasped. His fingers were thick. He hooked them up and had you wiggling under him. His thumb rubbed circles on your engorged clit.

“Mmm yes, Jensen. Just like that baby. Please make me cum.” You begged. Jensen smirked watching you coming undone under him and just by him using his fingers.

He pulled his fingers out, you were so wet his fingertips were wrinkled. You whined at the loss of feeling, “Mm Jensen why’d you stop.”

“Cause I want to taste this pretty little pussy.” Jensen started kissing up your thighs. His beard rubbing on the skin up to your pussy. It felt deliciously rough. He dived into your pussy like a man starved. Lapping at your juices while he sucked and nibbled your clit.

You moaned and wiggled under him. He gripped your thighs, holding you in place as you screamed out his name. “Oh Fuck, Jensen! Right there!” Your hands went into his hair and pulled him further into your pussy.

Jensen smirked and kept working towards your release. “Yes baby! Oh god! I’m gonna cum!” You screamed as your released hit. Jensen started licking and sucking harder. You tried to close your legs but his strong arms kept them open.

He licked you until you had three orgasms and your legs were jello. As he lifted his head he saw you completely exhausted from cumming. His face was soaked with a mixture of sweat and your release.

Jensen leaned up and kissed you. You were tasting your juices on his lips. Jensen got off the bed and removed his boxers, “you ready sweetheart?”

You looked up at him and nodded. “Yes, Jensen. Please take me.” He grabbed a condom from the side table and pumped himself a few times before putting it on.

When he was ready he got in between your legs and started to push in. He was stretching you in the most intense way. It was a mixture of pure pleasure and pain.

Jensen saw your discomfort and leaned down kissing your lips. “You’ve got to relax a little bit baby. I promise it won’t hurt for long.”

You relaxed a bit and Jensen pushed in all the way. When he bottomed out you gasped and Jensen did too. His head went into the crook of your neck. “Sorry baby. You’re so tight I need a minute.”

You giggled a little. You bucked your hips into him and he started to move. His thrusts were perfectly timed and smooth. Your hands gripped his shoulders as he would pull out and push back in.

“Oh Jensen. You feel so good. Oh god, keep going baby.” You moaned.

Jensen sped up and little then pulled out completely. “Get on top of me baby. I want to see you ride my cock.”

Jensen laid on his back and helped you straddle him. Once you lined him up you sat down. Taking him all at once.

Your hands landed on his chest and your head dipped forward. This new angle was so intense.

You started to ride him. Rocking your hips back and forth. Jensen’s eyes were locked on you. His hands on your breasts as you bounced up and down.

“Yes baby! So fucking beautiful. Taking my cock so good. You look incredible bouncing on me.” Jensen leaned up and kissed you.

He was close to his release, so Jensen bent his knees and gave you some extra support. He thrust up into you as you continued bouncing.

“Yes, just like that baby. Oh Y/N I’m gonna cum.” “Mm cum for me Jensen.” Jensen’s hips bucked one more time and you felt his cock twitching inside you as he emptied his seed in the condom.

When he was done you climbed off and laid beside him. The sounds of panting filled the air.

“Damn that was incredible, Y/N.” You smiled and kissed him softly.

He got up and walked to the bathroom to remove the used condom. When he was finished Jensen returned to you in the bed.

Grabbing a sheet he covered the two of you up. “Happy Birthday, darlin’. I hope you had a wonderful day.” You kissed his lips again, “I did Jens, thank you. I love you baby.” “I love you too.”

Jensen pulled you into his arms and kissed your head. “Oh, I haven’t given you your birthday present yet.”

“Jens you didn’t have to get me anything. You already give me so much.”

Jensen smiled, “it’s not much. I just had to get it for you. Close your eyes.”

You closed your eyes and smiled, holding out your hand.

You heard Jensen chuckle as you felt him climb out of bed.

“Okay, open your eyes” he said softly.

You opened your eyes and saw Jensen kneeling by the side of the bed with a box in his hand.

“Y/N, I’ve loved you from the moment I laid eyes on you two years ago. You make me smile, you're one of my best friends, you make me feel safe and so incredibly loved. You keep me on my toes and always laughing. You’re one of my biggest supporters and I know you’ve always got my back. Would you please do me the distinct honor of becoming my wife?”

A tear slipped out from your eye, your hands were trembling and your heart was hammering in your chest. You looked at Jensen’s green eyes, so full of love. You smiled, pulled him into a deep kiss and said “yes” against his lips.

You pulled back and he slipped the diamond on your finger. “I love you, Jensen. I can’t wait to marry you.”

“I love you too, baby and I can’t either. Happy Birthday, my love.”

He kissed you again and climbed back into the bed with you. Jensen pulled you into his arms and the two of you drifted off to sleep.

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#hes gorgeous #so damn sexy #jensen ackles #jackles #jensen ackles x plus size reader #jensen ackles x reader #jensen ackles smut

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