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bruisedboys · 1 year

Note

ok but like rockstar!eddie with shy reader 🤭

I lovveee this concept tysm soph!! best ask ever fr <3 also I only proofread this once oops

summary: rockstar!eddie is totally soft with shy!you. fluff, established relationship, rockstar au

fem!reader 800 words

Watching Eddie perform was one of your favourite things in the world. However, it came with the unfortunate addition of braving crowds of loud and usually intoxicated people. However fond you were of your boyfriend, you were equally un-fond of the audience at most of his shows.

Tonight, you’d met your fear head-on, and made it through Eddie’s show with minimal damage to your emotions. It was with a big grin, though a tired one, that you navigated your way through the backstage area. Luckily, Eddie had bought you here earlier, when it was completely empty. He thought it’d help if you already knew the way to his band’s room. He was right.

When you finally made it to said room, you instantly heard voices behind the door, the loudest being that of your boyfriend. His boyish laughter at a bandmates joke made you feel giddy. You were just lifting your fist to knock when the door flew open.

“Sweetheart!” It was Eddie, sweaty and disheveled, his eyeliner smudged something awful, but Eddie all the same. “You made it!”

You smiled shyly. “Hi, Eds. You were awesome.”

His grin was blinding. “Thanks, sweet thing,” he doted, tone smooth with fondness. He leaned down to press a chaste kiss to your lips, his own lips sticky with gloss. Your mouth buzzed with electricity as he pulled away. “I saw you in the crowd, you know.”

You were still half-dazed from his kiss, so it took you a little while to answer. “You did?”

Eddie nodded, graciously ignoring your flushed cheeks. “Sure did,” he said jovially. “Couldn’t keep my eyes off you, babe. You look stunning tonight.”

You rolled your eyes at his familiar flirting, though your face was hot as an oven. There was a shout behind Eddie, one of his bandmates calling his name.

Eddie gave a wave to them without looking, and then bent his head so his mouth was next to your ear, his long hair tickling your jaw. “You okay to meet everyone?”

You felt your heart twang, totally softened that he’d thought to ask. You nodded, “Yeah.”

Eddie grinned proudly, tossed an arm over your shoulder and pulled you in through the doorway. He smelled like sweat. You probably should’ve found it gross.

“Everyone! This is my girl, Y/N,” he announced.

The room was full of his bandmates, drinking and laughing and all looking just as stunning as your boyfriend. Well, almost as stunning. Everyone smiled as you entered, offered friendly waves, raising their drinks with a chorus of ‘hi’s and ‘we’ve heard so much about you’s. A girl with choppy pink hair, the band’s bassist, was closest. Eddie addressed her.

“She’s pretty, isn’t she?” He said proudly, giving you a shake. “Prettier than you, Beth.”

Your jaw dropped as Eddie burst into laughter. “Eddie!” You hissed, cheeks burning.

You turned to Beth, ready to apologise profusely but she was just grinning, shaking her head like she was used to it. You supposed she was.

“You’re very pretty,” you told her shyly, a bit breathless. You elbowed a chortling Eddie in the ribs. “Sorry about him.”

Beth shrugged good-naturedly. “Don’t worry about it, dove.” She turned to Eddie and gave him a look. “She’s sweet, Eds. Try not to corrupt her.”

With that she walked off. Eddie tightened his arm around your shoulders, chuckling lowly.

“You hungry, angel?” He asked, apparently unfazed from the conversation with Beth. You, on the other hand, were still hot in the face. Eddie must’ve noticed, because he led you over to a table laden with junk food and soda cans, in the corner of the room where it was quieter.

Once out of earshot he slid his arm from around you and slotted his hand into yours. He turned on his heel to face you, lifting his free hand to brush a strand of hair from your face.

“You doing okay?” He asked quietly, dark eyes boring into yours. “‘Cos we can leave, if you’re not. I don’t mind.”

You shook your head as Eddie cupped your cheek with his jewellery-heavy hand. The metal of his many rings was warm against your face and his skin warmer.

“I’m okay,” you told him honestly. Sure, you were shy and dead tired, but Eddie treating you like this was making you feel the opposite. “We can hang around for a bit longer.”

“Cool,” he beamed, eyes bright. His voice got soft as he added, “Just let me know when you want to go, okay?”

You nodded, feeling like you’d melt any second now. Eddie bought his other hand up to cup your face and held you there, leaning in to kiss you sweetly.

You felt his adoration like wildfire in your chest.

#★ mal writes!#✿ 300 celebration!#ღ eds #eddie munson #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson fluff #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson drabble #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson blurb #eddie munson x reader fluff #eddie munson x shy!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x shy!reader fluff #rockstar!eddie #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie munson x reader #✉️

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rinneverse · 1 year

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OAKIE BBIE ! congrats on 300 million gajillion woooo 🥳🥳🥳🥳 !! m here for ur littl event mweheheh :3:3 cld i ask for al haitham ++ D, I, nd K from da nsfw alphabet pwetty pls !

COCOOOO WAHH THANK U!!! <3333 ⸜(｡˃ ᵕ ˂ )⸝ and yuuusss ofc huehuehue

a part of my ongoing 300 milestone event!

[ ❥ ] AL HAITHAM + D, I, & K !

[N]SFW CONTENT, MINORS DNI! cw exhibitionism, threesome mention, creampie/breeding mention, dumbification, fem!reader

— d ; dirty secret!

alhaitham would never admit it, but the thought of kaveh catching the two of you in the act is something that makes his heart race. it's why even when he hears the telltale knock at the door, signaling his roommate's return, he doesn't stop ravaging your body—in fact, he tries even harder to pull the sweetest of melodies out of you. you're too wracked with pleasure to even notice.

he also thinks that sharing you with kaveh might be a thing he would be into. he'll never say it out loud, though.

— i ; intimacy!

ohhhhhhh, he is sickeningly romantic. for someone who seems so... carefully neutral all the time, once he falls in love with you — you've got him wrapped around your little finger. this is especially true when it comes to sex: he prefers positions where he can look at you and watch you fall apart around him.

— k ; kink(s)!

breeding. first thing that came to mind, methinks. nothing beats the sight of his cum leaking out of your pretty pussy. it drives him insane—and to him, nothing is more logical proof that you are his and his alone than this.

this also may be me projecting but i think he would be a lil' into dumbification. reducing you to a babbling mess is his end goal—nothing says his baby is feeling amazing more than the pretty crystalline tears that run down your cheeks as you mindlessly cry out his name!

"h-hai—thaaam!" you squeal, fingers clutching at alhaitham's broad shoulders as he pounds you into the mattress, his bodyweight heavy on top of yours. he grunts in response, the lewd squelching of your pussy loud in your ears as he just doesn't stop.

"you can take it, darling. just one more for me," alhaitham rumbles above you, grabbing your hands in his to intertwine them tightly as he folds you into the plush comforter.

"please, please, s'too much!" you wail, tears of pleasure gathering in your eyes as you feel every drag of his cock in your gummy walls. it's driving you insane. alhaitham presses his forehead to yours before capturing your lips in a searing kiss.

it's when he hears it—the jingling of keys at the front door, a gentle knock, kaveh's faint voice announcing his arrival—and he suppresses a grin as he nips at your bottom lip.

"just a little bit more."

he punctuates his sentence with a particularly harsh thrust, watching your mouth fall open in pleasure. the sight is lovely, he thinks, his darling girlfriend reduced to a complete mess underneath him.

he lets go of one of your hands in favor of playing with your clit, drawing tight circles on the sensitive nub. the sensation has you seeing stars and you don't know how much longer you'll last like this.

he has you creaming so prettily all over his cock in no time, a satisfied smile on his face as he holds you close through your orgasm. the sight is burned in his memory—and he thinks that he would do anything just to keep you here with him, even if it meant bringing down the moon and the stars and the planets, all for you.

hehe. dik

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin smut #genshin impact smut #alhaitham x reader #alhaitham smut #al haitham x reader #al haitham smut #genshin x you #genshin impact x you #cw dumbification #cw breeding #☆ oakie writes #☆ c.alhaitham #oakie hit 300! ☆#i had to physically stop myself from adding more to the drabble. any more and i wouldve gotetn carried away

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sainzfilm · 1 year

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charles leclerc + “here we go again”

come celebrate with me!

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

a/n: me singing mamma mia in my head….but anyways i decided to make this humorous because thats me and silly little charles is the kind of boy to do this hehehe enjoy <3

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

Charles woke up to a phone call at around 2:18 am. Groaning in response, he blindly reached for his phone on the bedside table, not bothered to check the caller ID, “Hello?”

“Charles! Thank God you picked up,” Isa exclaimed, running a hand through her hair, “We’ve got a situation with Y/N.”

“What is it?” Charles replied, immediately sitting up in bed and turning on the lamp to make his way through the room clearly, “What happened?”

“Don’t worry, nothing major,” His teammate’s girlfriend replied, “It’s just…she’s kind of tipsy – no never mind, she’s drunk. She’s whining for you to pick her up.”

“Mamma mia,” Charles chuckled through the phone, grabbing his hoodie and keys as he exited the apartment, “Send me the address and I’ll come pick her up. Gracias, Isa.”

Isa laughed and patted your head as you hugged her waist while you sat down, “Don’t mention it. I’ll send it right now, bye.”

Locking the apartment, Charles couldn’t help but smile upon replaying the conversation the two of you had before you left for a girl’s night with Isa and Lily.

“Mon ange, be sure you don’t exceed your limits,” Charles looked at you from his simulator, “Look after each other, okay?”

“Tsk, Cha, you know my tolerance has improved!” You poked your tongue out at him as you grabbed your purse, “Of course, we will. Don’t stay up, okay? Get the rest you need.”

“Call me when you need me,” Charles smiled as he stood up to walk over to you, kissing you softly, “I love you.”

“I love you more,” You smiled as you squished his cheeks before walking out of the room and calling out, “See you later!”

As Charles pulled up to the address of the club that Isa sent, he couldn’t help but chuckle from the way your eyebrows furrowed and a frown etched on your face while you hugged Isa.

“Y/N, look Charles is here,” Lily whispered as she patted your back gently, “C’mon let’s get you up.”

“Charles,” You drunkenly whined as you squinted your eyes, “Where is he? You’re lying, Lily.”

Charles got out of his car, walking over the three of you and smiling, “Hey. You two okay?”

“Perfectly fine,” Isa laughed as she handed your purse over to him, “She was so proud that her alcohol tolerance increased, but she spoke too soon.”

“She said that before she left too,” He chuckled as he crouched down to your level, patting your knee and smiling, “Mon ange, time to go home.”

“Don’t mon ange me mister,” You huffed as you crossed your arms, “I have a boyfriend.”

“Here we go again,” Charles mumbled as he shook his head, wanting to play along your drunken state, “Sorry about that, what’s your boyfriend’s name?”

“His name is Charles Leclerc,” You slurred as you pointed at his chest, “He wouldn’t like it if you called me pet names.”

“That’s my name, you know,” Charles snickered as he stood up and reached his hand out, “C’mon, Y/N. Let’s go home.”

“Cha! You came!” You giggled as you grabbed his hand, stumbling into his arms, “Some guy was calling me mon ange earlier…wouldn’t listen to me when I said I had a boyfriend.”

“That’s what she’s been going on about earlier,” Isa whispered as she patted Charles’ shoulder, “Lily and I will wait for Alex. Get home safe the two of you.”

“We will,” Charles smiled as he carried you back to his car, stumbling a few times, “My love, don’t fall asleep on me.”

“But I’m tired,” You frowned as Charles put you in the passenger seat, buckling your seatbelt, “Can we get McDonalds?”

“Whatever you want, my love,” Charles kissed your forehead as he closed the door and headed over to his side of the car, putting the keys in the ignition, “You had a fun night?”

“Mhm! I missed the girls so much,” You nodded eagerly with a big smile on your face, “I also realized one thing that sober me cannot tell straight to your face.”

Charles raised an eyebrow and looked at you momentarily, “And what is that?”

You brought a hand to your mouth, whispering softly, “I really really really…”

Laughing as he shook his head, stopping at the traffic light, “You really, really, really what?”

“I really really really…want you to be my future,” You hiccuped as you giggled, “Husband.”

Charles smiled to himself and turned to face you as the red hue of the traffic lights shone on your face through the windshield, “The honor would be mine, mon ange.”

You didn’t have to know that Charles kept a small velvet box in his bedside drawer, hidden at the back and placed inside a tin can to hide your suspicions. But, Charles thought he’d let you know soon enough – maybe, even tomorrow.

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katnissmellarkkk · 9 months

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tis I with a prompt: I request the first time post war Katniss lets Peeta into her bed again 🥺

AN : wrote this the night you sent the prompt but I absolutely hated it until now. I finally got around to cleaning this up a bit and now I think it’s cute? Lemme know, all of y’all, if you like it! And my writing muscles are rusty so send me a prompt if you like, to try and work me out please! Can’t make any promises about what’ll trigger my brain but I can sure try! Anywaysss hope y’all enjoy this lil post-mockingjay-pre-epilogue drabble here!

I watch with dread as Peeta scrubs away the last bit of sauce still dried to his plate.

“You really don’t have to do that,” I murmur halfheartedly from where I lean against the counter, watching him.

“It’s rude to not wash your own plate after dinner,” he says, his tone somewhat coy. He’s teasing me, I realize. He’s maybe even flirting with me but I can’t be sure and even if I could, I wouldn’t know what to make of it.

“I never wash mine after eating at your house,” I mumble, mostly to myself. I know he doesn’t care about cleaning off my plate for me. I know that he knows that I don’t mind washing his plate either.

But I don’t push the point and neither does he. Because we’re both stalling the inevitable.

It’s past ten at night and it’s time for Peeta to go home now. This time comes every day and we should be more prepared for it by this point, but every single night when the sun has long since left the sky and you can barely make out five feet in front of you without a flashlight, Peeta walks out the front door and my chest aches, as he disappears out into the night.

Ask him to stay, a tiny voice that sounds weirdly like both Haymitch and my mother — at the same exact time — pressures me.

But my tongue won’t cooperate and I can’t make the words form on my lips and I feel my stomach flip as I stutter out an awkward goodbye instead.

“Goodnight, Katniss,” Peeta says evenly, his face smooth and peaceful and totally level as he reaches out and squeezes my hand before moving to grab his coat.

He’s walking towards the door and I feel the familiar dread — the dread that’s been my constant companion for longer than I care to remember — rise up in my stomach and for a split second I want to reach out and grasp his elbow. For a split second I want to grab onto him and stop him from leaving.

And for a moment I plan to ask him to stay, to come upstairs with me, to get into his pajamas and brush his teeth by my side at the sink, to crawl beneath the sheets and hold me until we hear birds begin to chirp with the morning light. In that moment I plan to ask him to do exactly what we used to do on the train, exactly what we used to do every single night, back before everything between us completely shattered beyond recognition.

My hand drops midair before I can make the contact with his arm but it catches his attention just the same.

“What’s wrong?” He inquires, his face becoming concerned.

“Nothing,” I brush off tightly. Instead of saying what I’m thinking, instead of saying what I want, I just force a smile and lightly graze his hand. “Get home safe.”

At that, he shoots me a bemused look. “I live three houses from you. Somehow I think I’ll be fine.”

I nod and chuckle as he leaves, as he disappears into the night, making the shortest of journeys home, unwittingly leaving me to dwell in regret for all the things I wish I’d just come out and said.

As soon as the door shuts between us regret the size of an elephant lands on my chest.

And I know, without a doubt, this is going to be one bad night for me.

The funny thing about my nightmares is they never lose their edge. Not with time, not with practice, not with comparison. I’ve seen Cato get eaten by the mutts hundreds of times. I’ve watched Clove stab me with her knives and Brutus chase me through the jungle and Enobaria break my neck with one hand, more than I could possibly count.

I’ve witnessed my sister detonate, as if I’m still standing right there, in the city circle of the Capitol. I’ve witnessed it thousands of times since that day. I’ve witnessed it more often than I’ve managed to actually sleep since that day.

And it never gets easier. It never becomes routine. I’m never ever prepared for it.

Instead I’m left paralyzed as the same dreams plague me over and over and over again.

Other things do change though. I used to thrash around, kicking and screaming as the dreams tortured me for minutes on end. I used to wake up, sweat covered and coiled up in my bedding, trapped in a physical sense that only manages to make my dreams even more intense somehow.

But over time something shifted and somehow, between the bomb that killed my sister and taking down Coin and the trial I scarcely remember, the thrashing stopped and the walking began.

For months now, I’ve woken to find myself in strange rooms, in small crawl spaces I didn’t know existed, inside cupboards and beneath beds no one’s ever used in guest rooms I barely recognize.

But I’ve never found myself outside before. Never, in all the time I’ve dealt with these dreams, have I ever once ended up in my front lawn.

Never, in my wildest imagination, did I picture myself waking from my nightmare, facedown in some dirt, ripping grass from the ground as I let out a rabid scream.

“Katniss,” I hear a voice softly murmur, like speaking to an injured fawn, terrified of scaring them away. “Katniss, it’s okay.”

And my lips cry for the voice before my brain fully recognizes it. “Peeta?”

“It’s just me,” he says, and I feel his hands grasp the tops of my arms, gently pulling me upright. “It’s only me.”

I pry my swollen eyes open and take in Peeta’s kind, worried face, mere inches away from mine.

“You’re here?” I croak, still groggy and confused. “What’s going on?”

“You were having a nightmare,” he explains, thumbing away my tears as more come pouring out. “But it’s over now. It was just a dream. You’re okay.” His hand cups my cheek softly, holding the weight of my head.

I nod plaintively, my body still completely exhausted despite the fact I was just asleep. “I’m okay,” I try to say but all that comes out is a guttural raspy sound and I watch as his face softens even more.

“Come on. Let’s get you inside,” he whispers, offering me his hand.

I take it without question, but find that I’m not upright for long. The moment I’m standing, my bare feet touching the dewy grass, Peeta bends down and scoops me up in his arms.

I don’t question it though. Maybe secretly I wanted him to do that. I definitely didn’t want to wait around to see if Haymitch came outside, asking why I was screaming at this hour of the day.

Peeta carries me into the house as if I weigh as much as Buttercup, kicking the door shut behind him and walking over to the couch. He sits down with me on his lap and drops his arms, as if to let me decide the next move. I could either crawl away from him, put some distance between us, or I could remain where I am.

To me, the choice barely takes any consideration.

I curl up closer to him, the images from the dream still too fresh to handle alone. I press my face into his neck and fold myself into him and hope he reciprocates in kind.

It doesn’t take more than a second for him to respond. As soon as I initiate it, he’s there, pulling me tighter, cradling me against him, rocking me back and forth like I’m something precious to behold.

“It’s okay,” he repeats again and again and again, as if we entered a time warp and we’re back on the train, back in the Capitol in our little apartment, sharing a bed, guarding against nightmares we stupidly thought would be the height of our troubles. “I have you, Katniss. I won’t let anything hurt you now.”

I cry into the collar of his shirt, drained and shaking and still half-crazed, feeling slightly better only when his fingers begins to smooth my hair away from my face.

“I’m right here, sweetheart,” Peeta whispers gently, his hand moving from my hair to my lower back, rubbing soft, soothing circles there to alleviate my trembling.

Time begins to pass. My tears dwindle to nothing. I feel the shaking come to an end. Every last ounce of energy I have left seeps from my body. My eyes grow heavy.

And pretty soon, I feel myself lifted once again, into strong, protective arms, cradling me like a baby as they carry me up the stairs and down to the end of the hall.

I’m tucked into bed gently, with the utmost care. The covers are brought up to my chin, my hair is brushed off my forehead and his fingers lightly dance upon my cheek. But it’s not enough. I still crave more.

“Don’t leave me,” I whisper, and my voice still isn’t mine, it’s someone else, someone who isn’t afraid to ask for what she wants. For who she wants to lay beside her in the darkness.

“Okay,” he murmurs and it sounds like a promise but as he sits down on the side of my bed and takes my hand in his, planting a soft kiss upon the back of it, I know he doesn’t understand what I’m truly asking.

“No, Peeta, that’s not what I meant,” I say, shaking my head, before pushing the covers back. “Can you get in? Can you stay with me?”

I don’t really grasp my word choice and all the underlying meanings until it’s already slipped out and too late to take back again.

But I only have a moment to be filled with regret. Because that’s how long it takes Peeta to slide in beside me.

And as I curl into him, wrapping my leg around his waist, burrowing my face in the curve of his neck, basking in the feeling of utter safety and happiness that I have never, ever found in another pair of arms, he whispers the only thing that could erase my chagrin.

“Always.”

#everlark #thg #hunger games #thw #Katniss everdeen #Peeta mellark #300 #my drabbles #my writing #drabble #everlark drabble #thg fanfic #everlark fanfiction

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ssaaaronmontgomery · 10 months

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Can I get Hotch accompanying a very nervous/anxious reader to the hospital? Either they’ve fallen sick at work or had an accident in the field but basically they shyly ask hotch to come with because he’s so sweet and kind and good at holding their hand when they need it ♥️

Hospitals

Warnings: Hospitals, injured ankle, reader feels a bit anxious, Hotch being sweet 🤭

Word count: 568

Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x gn!reader (no pronouns used)

A/n: Hehe yes my love<33. I'm not entirely happy with how this came out but I'm not entirely disappointed in the outcome either 😂. This was not proofread so there may be some mistakes.

Forever tags: @greg-montgomery @boredelle @hotchsdoormat @ssahotchnerr @criminalskies @beardedhotchh @hotchnerbau (I think I got you all 😂🩷)

The unsub had been successfully caught. The only issue was that you'd stumbled when you tackled him and twisted your ankle in the process. And it hurts like hell. No one had really noticed it during the take down.

Hospitals sort of freaked you out a bit. You didn't really like the idea of going to the hospital in the first place, let alone going by yourself. So who better to ask than Aaron Hotchner? Someone you've always been able to rely on since starting at the BAU and has for some reason always had a soft spot for you.

You'd been limping and wincing as you made your way over to Hotch. He was talking to Rossi about something so of course you waited patiently. Even though this definitely does not call for patience on your end.

Dave notices you first and points to you, causing Aaron to turn and face you. "Hotch uh, I sort of fell and um...could you come to the hospital with me please? I think I messed up my ankle. I don't want to go by myself." You mumbled it shyly. Upon hearing this, Hotch immediately had concern written all over his features. He moved closer and put a hand on your lower back then looked to see which leg you were currently favouring over the other. Supporting most of your weight on one foot. He moved your arm around his neck and helped support you with his arm now wrapped around your shoulders.

"Of course. Can you walk to the SUV?" You give him a small nod. Neither of you thought it really called for using the ambulance when there was at least one injury that was far worse than yours.

After telling Rossi to inform the team of what was going on, Hotch helped you get in the backseat and into a good position before driving you to the nearest hospital. It was a local case so he knew exactly where he was going.

Once you'd made it to the hospital and you had been placed in a room awaiting the results of the x-ray, Aaron could see how nervous you were about being there. He didn't know why and he didn't want to pry for information. So instead he gently grabbed your hand and squeezed it, offering a small smile.

"How are you doing? Apart from the ankle."

"I'm alright. I'm just nervous. Hospitals...they aren't really my thing, you know?" Hotch gives a sympathetic nod and another gentle squeeze. "I understand that. Is there anything I can do to help?" You look away for a moment as you think and then turn back to him. "Could I have a hug?" He gives you a slightly bigger smile this time and leans in close to wrap his arms around you. "You can always have a hug, y/n." You both stay like this for a few seconds and then he pulls back, taking your hand in his again.

"Any better?"

"Very much. Thank you, Hotch. For coming here and sitting with me. And putting me at ease. You didn't have to but thank you for doing it anyway."

"I didn't have to, but I wanted to. I'm glad to."

Exchanging smiles once again, you're feeling much better now. Aaron has a way of calming you down and you're always grateful that he's willing to do so without hesitation.

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youre-ackermine · 4 months

Text

Under the Mistletoe

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Fem!reader

Wordcount: 1360 approx.

Modern AU / SFW / Friends to lovers / Love confession / Fluff

Joining Levi to celebrate New Year's Eve was the best decision you had made in a long time. Life was so boring and dull since your best friend had left for France to study. No more talking over coffee between classes, no more late night studying together at the library, no more banter and silly jokes. And above all, no more movie nights cuddled up on the couch, wrapped together in both a cosy blanket and his comforting scent. You felt lonely and miserable. In short, you missed your best friend sorely.

Of course you caught up on each other’s life during your weekly phone call, but it’s his presence you missed the most. Your heart had skipped a beat when he had called you a few weeks ago, clearing his throat before blurting out the invitation in a hoarse tone. Hanging up, you couldn't help but giggle with eagerness at the idea of seeing him again after months apart.

As the reunion day drew near, you had felt the excitement revealing itself in each of your gestures, in each of your thoughts, your mind racing with the silliest scenarios. Past the first few days, busying yourself buying your ticket, packing your suitcase, choosing the evening dress you’d wear for the party, your mood had changed. You had lost your appetite. You could barely sleep. Nervousness was taking the best of you. You couldn’t wait to go to Paris.

Reuniting with him had thrown you into emotional turmoil. Despite the “Mlle l’Emmerdeuse" sign he was holding as a joke, despite the familiar smirk plastered on his face, the moment you had seen him waiting for you at the airport had made you stop in your tracks, palms sweating and throat tight. Something about the way he looked at you seemed different, something yearning and intense.

Regardless you had thrown yourself in his arms and, as he had pulled you closer to him, you had nuzzled into his neck and taken in his comforting scent, the very scent you had missed so much on countless sleepless nights. Tears of relief had welled up in your eyes and your heart seemed to have swelled in your chest. You had shivered under his touch and clung to him for a while before letting him go as the heat of embarrassment flushed your cheeks.

You could no longer conceal the obvious: you were deeply, hopelessly in love with your best friend.

The hour that followed was nothing more now than a blur of disjointed chatter, clumsy gestures and awkward silence. Levi had dropped you off at your hotel, giving you some time to get ready. You had struggled to calm down, your whole body still reacting to the unexpected realization of your feelings. You couldn’t figure out yet how to behave around him. Seeing your best friend in this new light had left you confused and, to be really honest, a little ashamed.

When he picked you up later to go to the soirée, he looked so good in his black tuxedo that you almost missed the sparkle in his eyes and the startled gasp he had let out when you had reached the bottom of the stairs and crossed the lobby to join him. Your evening gown fitted perfectly, smoothly hugging your curves. The light touches of makeup here and there discreetly highlighted your face. You were breathtaking.

Uneasiness lurked into the confined space of the car as you both remained silent. Levi’s attention was stubbornly focused on the road while you admired the city Christmas lights through the window, thinking about how your silly crush on him would muddy your friendship. Luckily enough, it was a quick drive to your destination and you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief when you finally got out of the car.

Your first glance at the impressive beauty of this hôtel particulier near the Tour Eiffel left you speechless for a while. Elegant garlands of warm white lights hung on the front wall, bathing the garden in a festive glow. A few candle lanterns lined the stairs, tracing the path up to the front door. Apparently Levi’s new friends were ridiculously rich.

As soon as you stepped inside, heat slapped your face and music filled your ears. The house was soberly decorated, a few shining ornaments and tinsels were placed here and there and a bouquet of mistletoe hung from the ceiling in the hallway. In the main room, people were already dancing under strobe lights. Levi helped you take off your coat and you shrugged the tension off your shoulders as you followed him across the packed room to the buffet. The fancy display of mouth-watering delicacies helped you snap out of your thoughts for good.

Levi introduced you to his group of friends who stood next to the bar on your left, laughing and raising their glasses to the last remnants of the year and the appealing promises of the new one. One of them poured some champagne in a flute for you while another shoved a plate of appetizers under your nose. They did their best to make you feel welcome.

After a few bites of delicious food, Levi, always the life and soul of the party, stuck with his friends while you hit the dance floor. Mingling with the partygoers released most of the tension building between the two of you so far. You felt his eyes linger on you at first but soon you were so absorbed in the music that you forgot about your turmoil for a moment.

And now, after dragging yourself to the bar all sweating and panting but somewhat relaxed, here you were trying your best to talk with his college friends over the deafening music, slipping a few words of French you vaguely remembered here and there into the conversation. You got along pretty well with Levi’s roommates and you would enjoy the party more if your best friend hadn’t left a while ago, vanishing into the crowd.

Around midnight, you couldn’t help but glance around to find him until you felt a warm hand settling on the small of your back.

“Je peux vous la voler un instant?” Levi asked his friends before taking you away.

He slipped his hand into yours and led you through the crowded dance floor, weaving his way out of the room. Feeling the warm skin of his palm against yours, the reassuring squeeze of his fingers, made your heart race faster and a delicious sensation spread through your body, as if you were floating in the air.

He stopped as he reached the hallway and turned to you, taking both of your hands in his and locking eyes with you. Something between worry and determination showed on his face and for a moment you couldn’t help but take in his handsome features, the sharp line of his jaw, the plumpness of his lips.

“I…I have, er…I have something to tell you,” he stammered. “Something, er. Something I want to tell you for a while now, but. You know, er…Shit...You know I'm bad with words, right?” He squeezed your hands on the last word.

You nodded, not sure if you wanted to hear what he was about to say. Your heart sank at the thought that he had realized what you felt for him and wanted to put your relationship to an end because of how disturbing all of this was. But, maybe because of the changes you had noticed in the way Levi looked at you, a teeny, tiny part of you, the one that allowed the butterflies to flutter in your chest, the one that allowed your skin to shiver under his touch, that part couldn’t help but hope.

The hubbub of the party starting the countdown suddenly turned into a blur when Levi leaned in, his face so close to yours that you felt his warm breath on your skin. Your heart pounded in your ears and you finally let the butterflies deliciously flutter in your chest. Leaning even closer, he whispered “je t’aime“ against your lips before kissing you softly.

Your first kiss.

Under the mistletoe.

Requested for my 300 followers event by Suki @suukee @sckerman 🩵

I hope you'll like it!

🔸🔸🔸

A/N: Kissing under the mistletoe is a New Year’s Eve / New Year’s Day custom in France rather than a Christmas custom as in other countries // English is not my usual language

Proofreading @sixpennydame thank you so much my lovely Bestie <333

Translation

Mlle l’Emmerdeuse >>> Miss Annoyance

Hôtel particulier >>> Mansion

Je peux vous la voler un instant? >>> Can I borrow her from you for a sec?

Je t'aime >>> I love you

🔸🔸🔸

Header: @youre-ackermine

Star divider: @saradika-graphics

Fireworks divider: @firefly-graphics

🔸🔸🔸

You can find the event masterlist (in progress) HERE

#levi ackerman #levi ackerman drabble #levi ackerman fanfiction #levi x fem!reader #levi x reader #levi x you #levi ackerman fluff #snk fanfiction #aot fanfiction #lovely moots 💕#suki ✨#sckerman #val's 300 followers event #val's requests 📫#val's moodboards 🌺#val writes ✍️#tw alcohol mention

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da-birb-writes-sometimes · 9 months

Note

CONGRATS ON HUNDRED DOVE!! you sent me a risqué ask for 100 so now i do it back to ye-

"caught in the rain" with leona :D or ruggie, if someone got to him first! ehehehehehehhehehehe you can see stuff 😳👀 for free ✨✨✨

btw your ask is sending me so hard but i'm already typing out so much for leona so your ask is gonna be the last one for the event lol

Caught in the Rain; Leona Kingscholar

Content; Fluff, gender-neutral reader, reader needs to get bonked with a stick (/j)

Content Warning; Swearing

Word Count; 700+

AN; Don't expose my ass on my own blog, Soru /j. (just trying to feed your own simping along with the simps) But I hope you enjoy what I wrote for Leona and this prompt! As a reminder, do not put my work — or others for that matter — into AI as it steals. Link to Masterlist

The sky lay heavy with dark clouds, the smell of rain thick in the air, yet not a single drop had yet to strike the ground. The air was dense with humidity, warm from the harsh sun’s rays from earlier in the day. But yet, you found yourself outside, trying to find Leona.

He had invited you to spend your summer break as his guest in the palace. Well, less so 'invited', more so demanded.

“Do you have anywhere else to be, herbivore? I thought as much. Come on, you’re staying with me.”

You still don’t really know why, but you weren’t going to throw away the chance of staying someplace beyond nice for the summer… plus Leona wasn’t so bad once you got to know him. Yes, he puts on an act of not caring, and being abrasive, but you knew that he cared, that he worried. Also, the two of you had been having this back-and-forth banter for months; blurring the lines of just friends bickering and something... more. But neither of you had made a move. It just hung in the air between you, nearly as suffocating as the humidity now; potent with the possibility of a massive storm.

Back to the present though. You were on the outskirts of the palace, looking for wherever Leona had decided to take a nap for this afternoon.

“Leona,” you called, but all you heard in return was the low rumble of thunder in the distance. Where is that overgrown house cat? I swear if I get caught in a downpour because of him… “LEONA!”

The first drops of rain began to fall, gentle and sparse. But you knew full well that in a few minutes' time they would be falling hard and fast.

“LEONA KINGSCHOLAR?!” You shouted at the top of your lungs.

You heard an annoyed huff of air off to your left, and looking up you saw none other than Leona lounging in the low-hanging branches of a tree.

“Ya don’t need to yell, ya know,” he sighed, landing softly on the ground. He looked up to the sky and frowned before setting a slow pace back to the palace. “Are you coming or what, herbivore?”

You followed after him, catching up so the both of you were going at a comfortable pace. Thunder was still rumbling, and the rain was slowly picking up, but there was no rush. Well, there wasn’t any rush until there was a flash of lightning and it seemed like the entire sky’s worth of water came down all at once on the both of you.

“Shit,” Leona hissed and guided the both of you to the relative cover of a tree to wait out the worst of the monsoon. “Just our luc-” He stopped talking when he looked at you though.

You were spitting out some stray rainwater that had managed to get into your mouth. But once the intruding water was gone you looked over to him but you felt your eyes lock on his torso; the white shirt that he was wearing was now completely see-through and you could see everything. Stop staring! Damn though- STOP STARING! But your eyes refused to move.

Leona noticed this, and he also took in your drenched appearance but was more subtle with it. “Tch,” he tapped you on the nose, breaking you of your staring stupor. “My eyes are up here,” his voice was teasing though, light.

You snapped out of it, catching his mirthful eyes. “You’re beautiful,” you whisper. You felt your face grow warm at the slip of your tongue, but it was true. Even before you openly ogled at him, you always thought that, but never said it to his face.

Leona chuffed, but he didn’t say anything; neither denying or accepting your statement. “You aren’t half bad yourself,” he said softly.

The two of you sat underneath the tree, still in your soaked clothes, watching the rain fall together in a comfortable quiet. And while the first golden rays of sunlight may have been stunning, the both of you thought it was nothing when compared to the captor of your hearts; each other.

After all, you still had the rest of the summer to build on this new development.

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dallianceangel · 10 days

Text

𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐥𝐲 𝐑𝐨𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐜 🛁🍻

Here’s a triple drabble for you all, I love me some soft Happy😍

🛁 comments, likes and reblogs are highly appreciated 🛁

“Missed me, handsome?” you ask Happy, leaning against the doorframe, still in your nurse’s uniform.

“Always,” Happy whispers with a smile, the sight of you in your uniform immediately turning him on.

Closing the door behind you, Happy can barely keep his composure as he watches you slowly strip to your underwear, his eyes darting to the hickeys he left on your breasts a few days ago. Guiding you into the adjoining bathroom, your boyfriend greets you with a desperate kiss.

“Fuck, baby, I’ve missed you.”

You can’t help smiling. “I’ve missed you, so much.”

Rock music starts playing in the distance, a sure sign that another rowdy clubhouse party has just begun. Normally, you’d show your face before retreating to Happy’s dorm a few hours later, but tonight you’re both in no mood to party.

“Lavender or Jasmine?” Happy asks you, holding up two bottles of bubble bath liquid, hoping a bubble bath will help you recover from your difficult shift.

“Jasmine, please.”

While you step outside to grab a bottle of beer from the small fridge in the corner of his room, Happy works on drawing the most romantic bubble bath you have ever seen. Lighting some soy wax candles, dimming the lights, putting on some romantic music, making sure the water is the exact temperature that you like, he’s gone all out for you. “Come on in, darlin’!”

Removing your underwear and grabbing another beer from the fridge, you join your boyfriend in the bathtub, completely in awe of what he’s done for you. “This is perfect, baby, thank you.”

He reaches out to hold your hand. “Think they’ll miss us?”

“They are probably too drunk to notice we’re not there.”

Happy chuckles, clinking his beer bottle against yours, signalling the start of your romantic evening together.

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the-bad-batch-baroness · 4 months

Note

Hi ! Congrats on 300 followers !

Can I request :

Crosshair

Romantic

Fem!reader

sfw

300

Prompt #6 : "I'm here. I've got you. You're safe now."

optional : said by reader to Crosshair after he was rescued from Mount Tantiss (maybe after a nightmare)

Thank you so much and congratulations again ! <3 (And you don't have to do it if you don't want to, it's totally fine)

I Won't Leave You

Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Pairing: Crosshair x Fem!Reader

Tags & Warnings: nightmare, angst, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 300

Author's Note: CORA, I AM SO SORRY. I got so carried away trying to complete the bingo fics that I let the last three event requests sit idle in my inbox. However, as promised in my New Years post, I have finally completed it!!! Thank you so much for your patience and putting up with me. I hope you still like it 💚

Crosshair shoots up in his bed, screaming at the top of his lungs as sweat pours down his face. He heaves in his breaths and claws at the duvet to try and find reality, but the images from his nightmare refuse to dissipate from his mind. As he continues to search for safety, he feels a hand grab his arm and he begins to flail wildly, desperately trying to escape his nightmare.

"Easy," you say.

Crosshair tries to remember who the voice belongs to, but the room is dark and his mind is still groggy, so he continues to fight your grip as if you're an attacker.

You turn on the lamp on the bedside table and as his eyes adjust to the brightness, he finally sees who the hand belongs to. It's yours. You're holding his wrist and looking at him with concern in his eyes.

His body trembles as he settles and works to get his breathing under control.

"I'm here," you soothe. "I've got you. You're safe now."

Crosshair swallows hard. "I… I don't know what happened."

"A nightmare?" you ask.

"Yeah," he pants. "A bad one. From my time on Mount Tantiss. They did… things to me."

You suck in a breath. "That place is gone now. They can't hurt you anymore."

"But the memories–"

"Are just memories," you whisper.

"I can't…" he breathes while holding the side of his head. "I can't get rid of them."

"It'll take time," you reassure.

"Time," he says. "The one thing I don't have."

You pull Crosshair into your chest and scoot back against the headboard, wrapping your arms around him.

"You can try to go back to sleep when you're ready," you say. "I won't leave you."

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. "Thank you."

Event Masterlist

Masterlist

A03

Tag List: @nahoney22 @commander-sunshine @sunshinesdaydream @padawancat97 @verndusk @sun-roach @coraex @lickylickylicky @homemade-clones @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @starrylothcat @mooncommlink @ladyzirkonia @stunkbiggu @cdblake1565 @ladytano420 @moonlightwarriorqueen @anxiouspineapple99 @clonethirstingisreal @dreamie411 @trixie2023 @cw80831 @ca77m3anna @rinwritesfics @t3mpest98 @novas-daydreaming @twincesskorisoka

Join my taglist HERE

Tip me a tea on Ko-fi HERE

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underoospeterparker · 5 months

Note

hii!! i’m a huge fan of your writing (especially peter parker!!)

can i request 🍕? i have bad anxiety, especially social, as well as overthinking and had a super bad panic attack today at college so do as you please with that info 😭 maybe like a comfort fic? you can choose what it’s about

welcome to my 300 followers celebration!

You weren't sure how it'd started; only that you were here now, panicking, for some reason or another. Your blood pounded in your ears, hands shaking as you fumbled for your phone which was probably hiding under something in your tote bag.

Your vision blurred, tears already forming in your eyes as you tried your best to gasp for air but still coming up empty. You felt around for your phone and finally grasped at something. With trembling hands, navigated to the call app, clicking on the top contact in your favourites.

The phone dialled just once before your boyfriend picked up. "Hi, honey," he greeted, smile evident in his voice. "Aren't you supposed to be in class right now?"

"Pete," your voice finally broke, the crying making your panic ten times worse. "Please, I need you."

"Okay," he made his voice sound as calming as possible, an attempt to soothe you. "Okay, baby. Where are you?"

You gave him your location, and in less than five minutes, he was there, crouching in front of your shaking form. "Hey," he murmured, voice soft and gentle. "Hey, sweetheart. Can you look up for me?"

You complied, teary eyes meeting his. "You're okay," he said. "Everything's okay. Just need you to try and take a few deep breaths with me, okay?"

You followed his inhale, holding it and then exhaling, sighing in relief as air finally filled your lungs. You tried a couple more, posture finally relaxing as you calmed down.

"There you go," he cooed, thumbing away the remaining tears. "Do you want a hug?"

Nodding, you collapsed in his arms, finally safe. His fingers combed through your hair, whispering soft, comforting nothings to you until you fully relaxed in his arms.

"Thank you, Pete," you mumbled, clearly exhausted.

He smiled, pressed a kiss to your head. "Any time."

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bruisedboys · 1 year

Note

congratulations on the milestone!! is it possible to get a jupiter with steve harrington and the prompt “jawline kisses”?

thank you!! and omg this prompt with steve was heavenly, ily

summary: steve gets some jawline kisses. fluff, established relationship

gn!reader 700 words

It was the kind of kissing that made you dizzy. The kind that tasted like candy floss melting on your tongue and sounded like poorly contained giddy laughter. You almost couldn’t breathe, your head swimming with lack of air and too much love, but you didn’t care.

Your hands were buried in Steve’s hair, fingers all tangled in his soft unruly locks, nails scratching gently at his scalp. His hands were on you, on every inch of you he could reach. Your thighs, spread overtop his own, your hips poised just above his, and now they were sneaking under your shirt, palms smoothing over the soft skin of your stomach and waist.

You sighed so dreamily you would’ve been embarrassed if you’d been with anyone but Steve. With Steve it didn’t matter, the sounds you got out of each other were music to the other’s ears.

Steve mumbled something unintelligible against your lips, a low hum that vibrated on your mouth. You giggled, pushed back just a millimetre to give yourself space to talk. Your hands dropped to his shoulders.

“What?” You were so breathless it came out as a raspy whisper.

Steve was no better. He sounded half drunk when he finally got the words out, chest heaving. “I said, what do you want for dinner?”

You snorted, then fell into a round of sticky giggles that were hard to get rid of. Steve grinned lazily.

“You’re dumb,” you told him, your tone nothing but fondness. “You’re kissing me stupid and you want to know what I want for dinner?”

Steve looked offended. He pouted, his swollen, kiss-raw lips pushed out dramatically. “Well, yeah, I’m hungry. Look, we could have pizza, or Chinese, or I could make that soup you like …”

Steve’s list of dinner options suddenly became unimportant as but your eyes caught on the freckles that decorated his cheekbone and trailed down to his jaw. Like little constellations on his skin, they begged to be kissed and touched and loved. You tried to listen to his mini rant, you really did, but you couldn’t help it — you leaned in while he was still talking nonsense and pressed a kiss to his jawline, right on a patch of freckles.

Steve’s breath caught and he trailed off, dinner plans all but forgotten. You smiled against his skin, kissed the same smattering of freckles, this time longer and sweeter.

“What are you doing?” He asked, sounding breathless and somewhat anguished. His hands found your hips and he pulled you closer on his lap, your hipbones pressing into his stomach. He obviously didn’t mind whatever you were up to.

“Nothing,” you said innocently. You pulled away, met his frazzled eyes and brushed your fingers over the spot you’d just kissed. “You have four freckles right here, did you know?”

"Yeah," he breathed, looking like he maybe hadn't even heard what you said at all.

"They're pretty."

Steve made a noise that sounded like something was stuck in his throat. You grinned, leaned in again and fit your mouth to his jaw. If anything his speechlessness encouraged you, and you spread your mouth over his jawline, bottom lip pushing underneath the bone while your top lip spread over the top, his skin smooth and velvety under your lips. You left a trail of precise, blazing kisses along his jaw, lips warm and sticky with fondness.

Your tongue brushed over his hot skin and he audibly sighed, shoulders going slack under your hands, more melting popsicle than boy. A moment later his hands were on the move - he must've decided it was his turn to undo you, his fingers dipping beneath the hem of your t-shirt and climbing fast. You pulled away abruptly when his fingertips reached your chest, hands dropping to his wrists, your t-shirt halfway up your torso and rising.

"Steve," you chided, breathless and giddy, lips swollen. You gave a half-hearted tug at his wrists but he didn't budge. You didn't really want him to. "Dinner."

Steve met your eyes, your equally heavy breaths mingling in the small space between you. His jaw was shining with your kisses. "M'not hungry anymore."

#★ mal writes!#✿ 300 celebration!#steve harrington #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington blurb #steve harrington x gn!reader #steve harrington x fem!reader #steve harrington drabble #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington x reader fluff #✉️#stevesmixtape!

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lovelynim · 1 year

Text

I’m dedicating this drabble to a very close friend of mine

Hope you enjoy it, my dear

You shifted your position in your bed, laying on your back and trying to find a comfortable position to fall asleep. It shouldn't be this hard to get some rest and it, in fact, wouldn’t be if it weren’t for the bright lights coming from the notebook screen. You sighed, turning to your side, pushing some of the plushies off the bed, and started to whine.

“Shoto, come on… let’s sleep, please,” you cried out, hoping to get some of your boyfriend’s attention.

“U-uh, yeah, in a minute, babe,” he spoke hurriedly, barely making eye contact before looking back at the screen, focusing on his game again. You groaned, as it was the third time you heard the same thing.

You didn’t like to be the party killer and you knew how much he liked it, but it was already past midnight and you could feel your eyes hurting from looking at those lights. How was he even bearing it being that close to the skin?

Laying on your stomach, you tried to ignore it, block the brightness and the noise with pillows and blankets. Taking a deep breath and trying to relax, but the faint sound of his fingers on the keyboard felt like a direct taunt.

“Shoto, come to bed. Now,” you muttered, giving him his last chance to make the right choice. This time, much to your surprise, it seemed like your words landed deaf on his ears. That was it.

You looked around, staring at the plushies around the bed and picking your victim without giving it much thought. Aiming carefully, you threw it at Shoto, making the plush hit him right at the head, making the boy let out a surprise gasp.

Before he could even protest, you grabbed the chair arm and pulled it, making it spin around and Shoto looked at you, with fear and confusion mixed into his look.

“Is your mic open?”

“N-no? I was playing by mysehEHE- AHAha, nohoh!” You didn’t waste a second before shove your hands into his sides, clawing mercilessly at the spot. You dug your fingers on his lower ribs, making him throw his head back in a loud fit of laughter.

“W-why- ahAHAh, plehehease! No tihihickling, bahahabEHEhehe!” Shoto giggled, shaking his head like a madman while he tried to pry your hands off his body.

“Huh, “babe”?” You grinned, climbing your hands up to his ribs and making him almost kick you out of reflex, “That’s what you have to say after ignoring me?!”

“I’m sohohorry! Plehehease, stahAHahap,” he giggled, scrunching up his nose and closing his eyes as hard as he could, feeling his limbs going weaker from all the laughing. However, you could tell the moment where panic kicked in as soon as your hands reached his underarm.

“NOHOHOT THEHEHERE!!” He cried out, cackling as he tried to plead for your mercy.

Shoto, at that moment, hoped his body would melt into the chair just so he could move away. He was cornered, trapped since the first second you laid your hands on him and, to make things worse, it wasn’t like he could escape.

After torturing him with what he would - dramatically - call a “murder attempt”, you stopped moving your fingers, lightly tapping at the spot to keep him giggling.

“Sho~to,” you started, almost singing your words, “would you be a good boy and come to bed with me, hm?”

“Y-yehehe- AHAha, p-plehehease, no mohore!” You chuckled, seeing how much he was squirming from a single poke on his underarm.

“I didn’t quite hear you, what did you say?”

“I wihihill!! Bahahabe, plehehease!”

“That’s better,” you sighed pleased, taking your hands away and placing them on your waist as you watched him recover himself. Once everything was off, you gladly waited for him to snuggle close to you under the blankets, teasing him with a victorious grin on your cheeks.

“You are mean…” Shoto muttered, pouting as he rested his chin on top of your head.

“It’s not my fault you are so stubborn, but thankfully you are ticklish just as much,” you giggled as he whined. You hugged each other while the silence took over all the noises and, finally, you could finally have your good night of sleep.

#300 followers #milestone event #drabble event #vtuber tickling #shxtou #shonlyfans #artoftherogue #shxtou tickling #shxtou x reader #ler!reader #lee!shxtou #ticklish!shxtou #vtuber

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sainzfilm · 1 year

Note

charles x "this isn't fun anymore"

come celebrate with me!

pairing: charles leclerc x reader

a/n: bye this made me think of this scenario immediately im sorry for my humor

⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅∙∘☽༓☾∘∙•⋅⋅⋅•⋅⋅⊰⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅⋅•⋅

It had been going on for three hours. You didn’t mean for it to last this long – it would’ve been over in under an hour at most.

“You’re doing this on purpose!” Charles scoffed as he glared at you, “Mon ange, I’m not joking around.”

Rolling your eyes, you poked your tongue out at him, “You’re such a sore loser, Cha.”

“No, I’m not!” The Monégasque mumbled as he leaned against the bed frame, “You know what? Let’s end it.”

“Guys…” Carlos frowned as he looked up from sitting on the floor, “Are you being serious?”

“Of course, he’s being serious,” You huffed as you crossed your arms, “You’re sure about that, Leclerc?”

“A hundred percent,” Charles crossed his arms as he intensely stared at you, “This isn’t fun anymore.”

“Okay then,” You shrugged as you stood up from the bed and dropped your last card on the bed, grinning, “I got Uno anyways.”

“God damn it!” Charles groaned as he dropped his cards after you, “I was supposed to give you the +4 ones!”

“Ay, mate,” Carlos pinched his teammate’s knee, “I’m the one after you, it’s counterclockwise!”

“Who knew you’d suck so bad at Uno?” You laughed as you squished your boyfriend’s cheeks, “Don’t be sulky now, love.”

“Whatever,” He mumbled with his cheeks squished, “I want a kiss.”

“Wait wait, let me leave the room first!” Carlos exclaimed as he dropped his cards and stood up, walking towards the door, “I had to deal with your cheesiness for more than an hour.”

“Adios, Carlos!” You laughed as you leaned your forehead against Charles’ shoulder, hearing your hotel room door close, “We must be torturing him.”

“Eh, he wanted to play Uno with us,” He laughed as he combed his fingers through your hair, tilting your chin up to meet your eyes, “So…how about a prize for the loser?”

“No, I don’t think so,” You teased, receiving a pout from your boyfriend, “I’m kidding!”

Charles mumbled a ‘You’re lucky I love you’ before gently holding your face in his hands to bring you in for a kiss.

#sainzfilm’s 300 celebration #charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc imagine #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 driver x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagines #formula 1 #fluff #formula 1 x reader #drabble #charles leclerc #ferrari #lec16 #cl16 #charles leclerc fluff #charles leclerc oneshot

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katnissmellarkkk · 1 year

Text

Hiiii! I wanted to write a little something simple for Everlark and decided to lowkey mix two requests! “A kiss on the chest” and “Katniss learning what they did to Peeta in MJ and kissing his scars”. It was supposed to be set Post-Mockingjay but I instead made it a sequel to my “Peeta wasn’t hijacked in MJ reunion oneshot AU”. If you haven’t read it, it’s fine, the title right there tells you everything necessary to know 😂.

I hope everyone who reads this likes it! I loved writing it and I would really appreciate anyone who enjoyed this to like/reblog! It makes me so so so happy 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹. Also thank you to all my constant encouragers, you guys make my day with all your sweetness 🥹🥹🥹🥹.

Summary : Katniss learns more about what they did to Peeta in the Capitol and sets out to try and make him better. [Non - Hijacked Peeta Mockingjay AU].

Burned. Check mark.

Whipped. Check mark.

Starved. Check mark.

Shocked. Check mark.

Tortured (with water and [redacted][redacted]). Check mark.

I toss the file back onto the table where it was left by Peeta’s doctors, unable to stare at it any longer. Unable to stomach reading every which way Peeta was harmed while held prisoner in the Capitol. Again. I’ve already read it upwards of ten times tonight.

It never gets easier. Reading the extensive list of his injuries, reading the details they managed to pry out of him, visualizing what horrible acts were done to to him, listening to his doctors confer among themselves in sympathy and disgust, they themselves deeply disturbed by what he experienced at the hand of the president himself.

“Sweetheart, would you make up your mind?” Haymitch snaps. He’s in the worst mood he’s been in a while.

“Huh?” I furrow my brow and glare up at him.

“Either read that thing or stop messing with it.” He indicates toward Peeta’s file. “I’ve sat here and watched you throw it down and pick it back up a dozen times already. It’s pathetic.”

“You’re pathetic, Haymitch,” I say back but there’s little bite in my tone. I’m too preoccupied with the image of Peeta trapped in a freezing cold cell, naked and bloody and alone and terrified, and it’s driving me absolutely insane. It’s suffocating me, from the inside out. It’s taking up all of the space in my head, leaving no room for even bickering with Haymitch.

And Haymitch knows it too.

Of course, he of all people should be able to read me. After all, the same stupid file — and his crippling remorse — is undoubtedly what’s put Haymitch in such an awful mood in the first place.

“Just go see him, Katniss,” he murmurs, giving me a pointed look. “Go. You’re of no use to him just sitting out here, reading about what’s already been done. Get up and go see him.”

He’s right and I know it. As much as I hate to admit it, I know Haymitch has me there.

But still, I stall. It’s not that I don’t want to see Peeta. The opposite, in fact. Since his rescue thirty-seven days ago — not that I’m counting exactly — I’ve spent copious amounts of time with him. I’ve spent every waking moment that I could in his presence and as many of my sleeping ones that I’m allowed.

The doctors aren’t really thrilled about our arrangement there. They want to keep watch on Peeta as he sleeps, to watch and study and take notes and examine him further, but evidently it’s rather hard to analyze his nightmares with me wrapped around his torso all night, like a protective pretzel.

It’s not that I don’t want to see Peeta right now. It’s the fact that I don’t think I can look him in the eye, after reading exactly what those monsters Snow hired did to him, and pretend it isn’t all my fault.

“I don’t think the doctors are done with him…” I mumble, avoiding Haymitch’s eyes now.

“Cut the crap, Sweetheart.”

“Go away, Haymitch.”

“Go see the boy or I’ll find a way for you to spend tomorrow filming a propo.”

I glare at him again. “Would you stop?”

“Coin is getting hungry for some new ones.”

“Okay, fine, you win!” I exclaim, springing up out of my chair. “Congratulations, Haymitch. You blackmailed me into going to see my own boyfriend. Happy?” I hiss, kicking him in the shin as I walk past his chair.

Not hard enough to hurt him apparently. Not even hard enough for him to care. Instead he picks apart my wording with a smirk. “Your boyfriend? How darn cute.”

“Shut up,” I call as I exit the room.

The last thing I hear is him making loud, obnoxious kissing sounds in my wake.

I slip past the doctors, both the head and the medical, and beyond the nurses and supply carts and trays of food, into the room where I’ve spent more hours in the last month than I can count on two hands.

“Hi,” Peeta whispers softly as I close the door behind me. He’s shirtless, in bed and seemingly half-asleep already, laying on his side beneath the sheets. Waiting for me.

He looks so much better than he did the night of his rescue. His bruises are healing nicely, he’s gaining weight and muscle back, his hair is clean and curly again — thanks to me and Thirteen’s strong, medicinal shampoo — and his skin is starting to lose that scary, pale, translucent look.

But he’s still so hurt. He’s still injured — internally far more than externally — and I swear, I can feel my heart swell up and break into pieces just looking at him too long.

“Hi, baby,” I murmur softly, crawling beneath the blankets and folding him into my arms. Even with all the weight lost, he’s much too large for me to hold completely, so I make due wrapping my arms around his neck, my legs around his waist and stroking the back of his head tenderly.

“I’ve been waiting for you,” he says, burying his face where my neck and shoulder meet.

A wave of guilt ripples through me. “Sorry I took so long.”

But he shakes his head, still having no room for spite in his body. Even after everything he’s been through, he’s still so sweet. He’s still so warm and kind and generous.

Well, towards me at least. The same can’t be said for his behavior toward Haymitch, who he blames for leaving us both in the dark about the rebellion.

“You were worth the wait,” he whispers. “You’re worth every wait.”

I feel myself blush and cover it swiftly by kissing his cheek. “How was your tests today?” I ask, smoothing his hair back.

He shoots me a sardonic look now and I giggle like a little kid. Every day when his dry humor peaks through the darkness, I get filled with ridiculous, unparalleled — uncharacteristic — delight.

“Still tedious as ever?” I murmur, rubbing his shoulder with my pointer finger.

“Boring as ever,” he mumbles before closing his eyes again. He’s clearly exhausted from all the probing they did today. And I know I should sleep too.

I usually sleep whenever he sleeps, wake only when the doctors make me leave, spend as much time with him as I can before getting sent away. But tonight I just can’t. I can’t make my brain shut off, despite the fact that at least half the compound is in bed, the other not far behind.

And of course, even tired as he is, even with everything going on in his mind, he still notices my distress.

“What is it?” He whispers, not even opening his eyes.

“Hmm?” I feign oblivion.

“Katniss, I can see something’s wrong.” He opens his baby blues, peaking down at me through his long, tangled up lashes. He has the longest eyelashes I’ve ever seen on a boy.

“Nothing’s wrong,” I reassure him, kissing his upper arm because it’s the closest thing within my reach.

“You saw my file?” He’s fully awake and coherent now, his voice much stronger than before. His tone leaves no room for question, even if I could lie straight to his face.

“Yes,” I whisper, feeling suddenly nervous he’ll be angry. Maybe it was an invasion of privacy to read it, I don’t know. The doctors left it out, I just assumed it was okay. “Are you mad?”

“No.” He chuckles lightly before moving his hand down to my hip, tugging me closer if even possible. “No, I don’t care. Read it as much as you want.”

He really means it too. He really doesn’t care if I invade his privacy, dig into his business and overstep my bounds. I don’t know if I’d be so generous if the situation were reversed.

Then again, going by the things I just read, he’s already been tortured and humiliated beyond belief. I doubt he has any concern for privacy left.

“You can ask me anything, you know,” Peeta says after a minute and I cup his cheek in my hand, shaking my head instinctively. I can’t ask him to talk about what they did. That would be cruel.

Instead I lean up and kiss him on the mouth, slowly and softly. Conveying every feeling I have for him, conveying every ounce of affection and gratitude and longing pent up inside me.

“You don’t have to tell me anything, Peeta,” I whisper against his lips.

I feel his hand cradle the back of my head, massaging my scalp. “I don’t want to keep anything from you,” he finally says, resting his forehead against mine. “Not anything that you want to know.”

My eyes fall, breaking contact with his. I have questions, yes — understatement if I ever heard one — but I refuse to pry and I’m terrified to ask and I don’t even know where to begin after what I read.

But then something catches my attention. A thick, red, angry line, splayed right in the middle of Peeta’s chest. It stands out vividly against his pale skin and blonde chest hair and I can’t look away from it now.

“What’s this?” I murmur, running my finger lightly across the surface, clocking the way Peeta cringes a little at the contact. “Does that hurt?”

He looks at the wall behind my head for a long moment before nodding. “That’s from a whip.” He meets my gaze again before casting his eyes low. “I don’t remember what I did to earn it.”

“Nothing,” I immediately gasp, my head shaking and brows knitting together. The idea that Peeta earned anything that happened in that mansion blasphemous to my ears. “You did nothing, baby.”

“I know,” he agrees, pressing his lips to my forehead lightly. “I just can’t remember why they whipped me that day.”

That day. Because there’s so many days where he was whipped to choose from. Of course.

My eyes land on another mark, this one dark purple and almost circular, high up on his torso, almost on his shoulder. It’s not a bruise, although at first glance it could be mistaken for one. No, it’s definitely a scar. From what, I can’t tell.

I trace it with my thumb, rubbing it back and forth. It’s raised and rough to the touch, a little jagged even, like it never properly healed.

His hand comes up to touch my arm, almost out of reflex, halting my ministrations. “That’s from the early days,” he explains, with almost a touch of humor in his voice. “They were more creative then… and they had a lot of matches on hand.”

It takes me a beat to figure out what he means by matches. “Fire? Fire matches, Peeta?”

“Yeah.” He nods sheepishly. “Snow had a big supply evidently.”

“I will burn him alive,” I say through gritted teeth before I can think better of it.

“Calm down, firecracker,” Peeta laughs but I’m fuming. I’m fuming mad and ready to fight at a moments notice. I probably could even make a half-decent propo right now, the amount of venom coursing through my veins.

I encourage my own anger, feed it, in fact. Because I want to be angry. I want to feel this rage.

Because if I don’t, I’ll start crying. And that’ll only serve to make Peeta feel even worse. Which I can’t let happen.

I’ve already done that too many times.

I don’t tell him any of what I’m thinking. Nothing good could come from that. Instead I search for a way to mask my anger, protect him from seeing it.

I stretch up and press a kiss against the corner of Peeta’s mouth, traveling to his chin, down the side of his neck and over his collarbone.

He responds by letting out a deep sigh, clearly enjoying the attention.

I journey further down his body until my lips land on his chest, exactly where his scar is.

“What are you doing?” He asks breathlessly, peering down at me now. “You don’t have to-“

“Let me,” I whisper, tracing it again with my finger. He shudders a little at the contact. “Let me make it better.”

I hear him swallow hard. “Okay.” He nods a little, quietly inhaling and exhaling.

I lean in slowly and press my lips to the mark, the whip scar, soft and tender.

I can feel him relax beneath me, deflating almost. I don’t sense any sign of discomfort, so I take that as my cue to continue on, kissing the same spot again and again, moving up and down the length of his wound, creating a circuit and following it repeatedly, waiting until he tells me to stop.

“Katniss,” he murmurs, sounding almost pained, like my name hurts.

“Yeah?“

“Thank you.” His voice is almost inaudible, almost a praise or a plea. Tears leak out the corners of his tired eyes.

I have to fight to keep my lip from trembling, to stop myself from crying too. Instead I crawl up his body, keeping my legs wrapped around his waist and fold my arms loosely around his neck.

“Let me kiss them all,” I say into his skin. My mouth travels across the top of his shoulder, my eyes closed, moving by the touch of my lips alone, not stopping until I land on his burn.

I press kiss after kiss into the bumpy, rough scar, until I feel Peeta’s breathing even out against me. I feel his heart beating against me and his chest rise and fall with mine, and an ember of hope that my method may be working grows stronger.

“Roll over for me,” I urge, keeping my voice as gentle as my touch.

“You don’t have to do them all,” he says but I can tell he’s enjoying this immensely. I can tell this helping him more than any treatment the doctors have recommended.

“I want to, Peeta,” I insist, no question in my tone.

Slowly and lethargically, he complies, rolling over so his back is facing me. I keep my hold on him, both my arms and legs wrapped around him like a baby animal clings to their mother.

He has a plethora of scars and wounds on his back. More than I’ve been able to stomach yet. Not once since his rescue have I been able to truly face the sight before me now.

I begin at the top, resting the palms of my hands on his shoulder blades, pressing my mouth to the center of his spine, to the back of his neck, the back of his ribs, anywhere with a painful mark or dark bruise.

I keep going, never tiring, as if I can kiss him better. As if my kiss can take away everything that’s happened, everything that I unintentionally caused and everything I ache to go back and stop. I kiss him like I can make him whole again. Like I can heal his fractured heart.

Eventually he relaxes underneath me, his breathing evens out again and he goes slack.

Even then, I keep kissing him. Even in his sleep, I refuse to stop trying to heal his hurt.

“I love you, Peeta,” I whisper against his arm, knowing full well that he cannot hear me anymore. “I love you and I’m so sorry that I couldn’t save you from this. I’m so sorry I wasn’t there.”

My lips are still on his back when the doctors order me out of the room.

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