#I could only work out half these questions 😂

[sweetbutpsychobutsweet]

Knock Before Entering

Chapter 13

Thorin Oakenshield x AFAB!Reader

Summary: Thorin will have to exercise a great amount of restraint to not maim Kili and Fili, and when it comes time to grace the Wandering Widow with an encore performance you will have to find a way to take the stage with the rest of the company being none the wiser.

Warnings: no use of y/n, angst, 18+, NSFW, minors do not interact, brief descriptions of bloody wounds/injuries, mentions of sex work if you squint

Author's Note: This chapter ended up being waaaaaay longer than anticipated so I've broken it up into multiple sections. Which means the next one is already mostly done🥳 Thank you all so much for the love for the previous chapters and the cockblocking nephews😂

Word count: 2505

“Sooo,” Kili tries to suppress a smile as you pull the last shards of glass from the cut on his hand. “How long has this been going on?” He looks over his shoulder at his uncle, who is sitting in a chair across the room. Arms crossed over his chest and a scowl etched on his face, Thorin hasn’t said a word since you were cock blocked by his nephews. Instead, he elected to just pull his shirt back on and remain in the room, brooding in the corner while you patched up Kili.

Fili still remains in the doorway, refusing to step foot in the room as if that will help save him from his uncle’s simmering rage.

“You know I have some sewing supplies,” you remind Kili. “If you irritate me enough I could decide this wound is in dire need of stitches.”

“He only wants to know whether we won the bet or not,” Fili sighs from the doorway.

You lift a brow in question, not lifting your gaze as you continue cleaning his brother’s wound. “The entire company placed bets on how long it would take the two of you to jump into bed together.”

Your head snaps up, immediately looking over at Thorin. He doesn’t meet your gaze, he just tips his head back to the ceiling with a heavy sigh.

“When did this happen?” you scoff.

“In Bag-end,” Kili winces when you start to apply the salve to his palm. “The others will be relieved to hear the wait is over.”

“The others don’t need to know,” you warn him as you reach for the roll of gauze beside you. As you do you catch Thorin’s gaze. Finally falling back on you, his eyes are filled with an emotion you can’t quite place.

You had expected him to agree with you. But instead, he looks…surprised. Like he hadn’t expected you to be so adamant about hiding your complicated relationship from the others.

Everything is still so messy and new. You don’t even know what you would call it yet.

You’re certainly not courting. Thorin could never be formally involved with someone from your background. He is a king. And a king is meant to marry a proper lady of good standing. Not a rebellious half-dwarf such as yourself. If there’s one you know, it’s that you are not meant to be his queen.

So does that make you… lovers? The term makes you cringe. It implies a much longer relationship than the situation will allow. This will only last as long as the journey to Erebor. Thorin will marry another and you will be on your way with the mountain at your back once again. This is all meant to be a temporary arrangement. If anything, it feels more like you have stumbled across an alternative way to tolerate each other’s presence.

These days it feels like the two of you only get along when you have your limbs are tangled together in secret.

And Thorin hasn’t exactly gone out of his way to make your relationship known to the others. He isn’t the kind of person to indulge in any kind of public displays of affection or to insist on putting a label on whatever it is the two of you have. Perhaps you misinterpreted his desire for privacy as an agreement to keep your relationship a secret.

If you didn’t know any better, you’d almost say Thorin looks hurt that you want to hide it. The look he gives you brings a stab of guilt into your chest. Tearing your gaze from him, you busy yourself with binding Kili’s hand. Whether you misread things or not, Thorin still takes your side regardless.

“What either of us do behind closed doors is no one else’s business,” he grumbles at his nephews. “Let this be a lesson to the both of you on the courtesy of knocking before entering.”

“Did uncle knock before entering you?” Kili whispers with a smirk and Thorin jumps from the chair so quickly it clatters to the floor. Fili leaps from his place in the doorway fast enough to block his path to Kili.

You quickly tie off the bandage and rise to your feet, inserting yourself between Fili and Thorin before they can start throwing punches.

“That’s enough,” you hiss at the both of them. Thorin still has murder in his eyes as he towers over you, glaring at his nephews.

“He was only joking,” Fili defends his brother, who’s now come to stand at his shoulder.

“I don’t want to hear either of you speak about her in such a manner again,” Thorin growls at them.

“Please forgive me,” Kili looks at you with a genuine nod of remorse, before stifling a laugh when he whispers “auntie” under his breath.

Thorin goes to take another step towards him as the two start to snicker. You bring a firm hand to his chest before he can make it past you. “Quit it,” you hiss as you shoot a warning look his way. You can feel the barely suppressed growl in his chest beneath your fingertips, but he does as you say and remains planted firmly in place. Keeping your hand on his chest, you turn to look over your shoulder at the boys.

“We’re done here, so you’re both going to go back to your room and go to bed.” You instruct. “And neither of you will breathe a word of this to anyone. Otherwise, those eagles will send you back to your mother in pieces. Understand?”

They both nod their heads grimly. Knowing better than to test you when you’re this close to resorting to violence. They silently turn to leave.

You walk them out. Latching the door firmly closed behind them and sliding the lock in place.

Letting your hand linger on the rusted metal, you dread turning to face Thorin now that it’s just the two of you again.

This time being alone together doesn’t carry the same implication. The moment has officially passed. The previous mood dead and buried.

With a steadying breath, you turn to face him. And just as you predicted Thorin is looking at you with an expression you’re all too familiar with lately.

“Care to explain what that was about?” he crosses his arms over his chest again.

“You’re the one who didn’t lock the door,” you deflect as you brush past him to the bed. Beginning to pick up the discarded supplies and tossing them back into your bag.

“You know that’s not what I mean,” he grumbles. “Why didn’t you want them to tell the others?”

“Why is that so wrong?” you turn to face him again, a hand on your hip. “Are you obligated to keep the company informed on everyone you sleep with?”

“No, but I don’t feel the need to go out of my way to hide it.”

“If you want to be the one to answer the endless tirade of questions about us, be my guest Thorin,” you roll your eyes. “Questions that I’m not sure either of us even have the answer to.”

“Only because we haven’t discussed it,” he reminds you.

“Is that really how you want to pass the time now that they’re gone?” you set a hand on your hip with a scoff. “Talking?”

He clenches his jaw, taking a step closer to you.

Your breath catches in your chest as you look up at him towering over you.

“I can’t help how much you infuriate me,” he growls, bringing a hand up to run through your hair. “No one drives me as crazy as you do.” His hand slowly comes to the side of your face, caressing your cheek.

“Every time you open your mouth I lose control.” He starts to trace your bottom lip with his thumb, watching in awe as you wrap your lips around the digit, beginning to suck. He growls as you gently scrape your teeth over his skin.

His other hand wraps around your waist, beginning to pull you in closer to him. You bring your hands to his chest, sliding them up the hard planes of his pectorals.

As your hands slide up, his starts to slide down. He grabs a handful of the soft flesh of your ass, eliciting a moan from you around his thumb.

Knock knock

You both groan and turn to glare at the offending door yet again.

“Not now,” Thorin shouts but the knocking persists.

Reluctantly stepping away from you with a huff, Thorin stalks over to the door. Unlatching it and yanking it open roughly.

Gandalf stands in the doorway. “Apologies for the interruption,” he says. Not looking the least bit sorry as his gaze bounces between the two of you in a knowing look.

“Can this wait?” Thorin grumbles at the wizard.

“I’m afraid not,” he replies, “we need to discuss the path we’re going to take for the journey ahead. The others are already gathered down in the kitchen for supper.”

“Very well,” he huffs, looking over his shoulder at you. “Shall we?”

“Actually,” Gandalf raises a hand to halt you both before you can head out the door. “Your assistance is needed in the tavern.”

He gives you a pointed look and you sneak a glance out the window behind you. The sun is already going down. You had promised Bertram you would put on your encore performance at sunset tonight.

“Ah yes,” you clear your throat, “I…promised one of the barmaids I would help her with some… lady troubles.”

Thorin raises a brow in confusion. “Can’t it wait? You’ll miss supper.”

“Oh, I’m afraid lady troubles never wait. I’ll join you all later.”

You shoulder your way past the two of them, Thorin looking confused at your abrupt departure.

You shoot Gandalf a pointed look as you head for the stairs and he gives you a small nod in understanding. You can only hope that he fulfills his promise to keep the company occupied long enough for you to secure the night's lodgings

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

“You’re late,” Bertram grumbles from behind the bar. “The crowd’s starting to get antsy.” He nods to the restless patrons filling the dimly lit room. The musicians are already tuning their instruments and drunken folk from the nearby towns gather around the stage impatiently.

Considering it was on such short notice, you’re quite impressed word traveled this quickly. You already recognize many regulars in the audience from when you would take to the stage on a nightly basis.

“Apologies,” you mumble while pulling up the sheer fabric at your chest yet again. “I had some wardrobe troubles.”

Either you’re misremembering how uncomfortable the costume was or it’s somehow become tighter and itchier since the last time you wore it.

There are several loose layers of fabric over your hips and chest that are meant to be removed with a flourish throughout the performance. But it’s the pieces underneath that cling tightly to your body. They cover the only parts that will be left to the imagination so you don't want to risk them slipping off.

“Pretty sure this is the only profession where wardrobe malfunctions work to your benefit sweetheart,” he scoffs nodding to the musicians on stage to signal your arrival.

“Now break a leg, and make me some money,” he waves you off and you saunter away towards the stage.

The musicians begin to strum the opening of a familiar melody and the crowd starts to hoot and holler as you slowly climb the steps to center stage.

Blowing a kiss and waving to the crowd your feet tread a familiar path as your hips start to sway, seemingly of their own accord.

Muscle memory kicks in as you let yourself get carried away by the music. Swaying and twirling, smiling and winking as the onlookers cheer.

The music rises to a crescendo and with a roll of your neck and a flip of your hair, you begin to ever so slowly slip the fabric off of your shoulders.

It flutters to the ground, leaving nothing but a long strip of fabric covering your upper body.

Everyone cheers, and you lift your arms above your head with a dazzling smile. Maintaining the pose just long enough for them to drink in the sight.

Continuing your path across the stage, familiar patrons start to clamber closer to the edge of the stage. You’ve done this routine so many times they know the grand finale is drawing near.

With another spin, you quickly slip the tie at your hip free. Holding it taut in your hand your eyes quickly scan for a volunteer.

A big burly man with a long beard calls out your name with a cheer, holding his drink high overhead in a toast. You extend the piece of fabric out to him and he gladly accepts.

“Hold on tight,” you instruct with a wink and he does exactly that. Holding the end of the fabric in place, you begin to twirl away from him in a whirlwind, the skirt unraveling around you as you do so.

The crowd goes wild as the rest of the fabric disappears, sliding down your legs to pool at your feet as you strike another pose showing off your now bare legs.

Gingerly stepping over the pile of fabric you resume your dance, twirling to the other end of the stage.

Your next move is to reverse the movement and travel in the exact opposite direction. But before you can, a strong pair of arms reach around your waist from behind, dragging you backwards off the stage.

With a shout, you are abruptly set on your feet in front of the absolute last person you want to see right now.

“What are you doing?!” Thorin growls, keeping a firm grip on you as his eyes take in the very small amount of fabric in such a public place.

“I’m a little busy right now,” you hiss. The crowd has already started to shout in protest and the musicians have stopped playing, looking at each other in confusion.

You’re more than a little pissed they let someone just grab you from off the stage but that’s a conversation for another time.

You try to pull yourself from his grasp, if you get right back up there and finish the performance you’re sure you can remedy the situation.

Bertram is already pushing through the crowd, red in the face with his sights set on you.

Thorin’s grip only tightens on your arms, a muscle in his jaw tensing. He releases you for a brief second, and you foolishly think he's letting you have your way. But before you can climb back on stage, he is suddenly wrapping his cloak around your bare skin and tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"You and I are going to have a little talk," he growls as he carries you out of the tavern kicking and screaming.

Taglist:

@mrsdurin @thetaekwondofeline @enchantingkryptoniteheart-blog

@exhausted-humxn-being @marsmallow433 @sverdgeir

@champagne-glamour@yve-barr @krampus236 @nerdthickly

@lyl1pad @bruhk @eri-s-big-sis

#thorin x y/n #thorin oakenshield #thorin oakenshield x reader smut #thorin oakenshield smut #the hobbit #thorin oakenshieldx fem!reader #thorin oakenshield x afab!reader #thorin #thorin fic #thorin x reader #the hobbit fanfic #thorin x fem!reader #thorin oakenshield angst #thorin oakenshield x y/n #thorin smut #thorin angst #thorin oakenshield x reader angst #thorin x reader angst

[moumouton4]

Hello there! I was thinking if you want to write more for Mash but if you wanna write another characters, that’s fine! I’m sorry I just live my boy Mash🥺❤️

7 Minutes In Heaven || Mashle Burnedead x fem!reader

A/n : Finally made it omg it too me so much time but it really worth it. Hope you all enjoy it 🍦🥮

Warning : Fluf fluf fluff, I tried comedy since the first season gave us almost only this, still trying to make it a strong suit 😂

Masterlist ⚜

I don’t give permission to repost my work, if you want to share it just reblogue it

Word count : 2011

You were all sitting in a circle on the wooden floor of Mashle and Finn’s dorm. It was only supposed to be a nice and chill afternoon gathering with all your friends, as y’all had the afternoon free for the first time in the year. Lemon had brought cup cakes, Dot a lot of candies, you the drinks and Lance, well, Lance only brought himself but it was the intention that counted. Of course a lot of puff creams were present at your little party.

The atmosphere was light and cheerful, everyone was talking and laughing. After a moment, y’all reached the agreement that it was time to play a game or two. After a few proposals, truth or dare was the first game to catch everyone’s attention.

“Come on ! Come on !” everyone cheered.

“I’m not going to answer this” Lance stated, as a pink hue spread on his cheekbones ( if you ask nicely I can tell you what question he was asked hehe )

“Okay… then I dare you to give me your necklace for the rest of the day !” Dot laughed loudly like an antagonist ( Light Yagami supremacy )

Lance’s hand flew to his jewel that he clutched in his hand “Fine fine I’ll answer” he said looking away “3 times…. Happy now ?”

“Yes very” smugly said the red haired man.

Then it was your turn and Lemon, who was in a very playful mood sing-sang “Y/n truth or dare ?”

You looked in front of you, you just knew by the tone of her voice that she was going to do something, your eyes met Mashle’s and then hers. She fricking knew ! And she was surely going to add her touch to it. You were focused on the truth part, thinking about all the possibilities of questions that could be asked. So you went with the dare.

“Dare” you said, half reassured about what was to come.

“I dare you too…” she thought about it looking everywhere around the room, and then her eyes landed - as if faith had decided it - on the door of the storage room of the dorm. A smirk appeared on her lips as she stated “I dare you to stay in there with Mashle for 7 minutes” her finger pointed towards the nearby door.

Your eyes widened “Huh ?!? Did you even go there ? It’s so narrow, we won’t never fit…” as you continued trying to find your wait out of this dare, Mashle sat there, looking at the people speaking, his head looking at one side and the at the other - as if he was watching a tennis game - a puff cream in his hand as he munched on it. He seemed… unfazed, true to his form.

“Nah Y/n it’s your dare. You don’t want to be a loser now, do you ?” she teased knowing that you were far from being someone to let herself be pushed around.

“Fine I accept the dare. But now it’s his turn to say if he is up to or not” you hoped he would refuse so that the next truth would be on him, but as much you wanted him to accept, find yourself in this enclosed space, so so close to his strong body…

“No no no !” a roaring voice abruptly stopped your train of thoughts “Why is he the one allowed to be in there with her ! He is already stealing all the girls’ attention ! That’s unfair ! I want to be with her there too !” Dot continued, his exuberant personality on full displated, making you all chuckle, Lance sigh and Mashle look at him with indifference.

“Why is being in a closet part of the game ?” he asked, his mouth still stuffed with the sweet pastry ( that’s a pleonasm lmao of course it’s sweet )

“It’s like seven minutes in heaven, you know the game” added Finn, who tried to explain to his friend.

“You mean seven minutes in a closet ?” the raven haired boy asked rather matter of factly.

“In heaven idiot !” chipped in Dot, who was still very unhappy that Mashle was the one who could enjoy the company of a female “It’s a gorgeous woman you’ll be with, not some brooms !”

His words touched your heart, making you blush, it’s been years you know him and yet you still can’t keep a straight face when he says this kind of thing.

“We don’t have any brooms”

“OOH COME ON JUST ANSWER THE DAMN QUESTION !”

“Yeah it’s easy to stay in a closet” Mashle finally answered, making Lemon smile as she got up and rushed to you, ready to push you in the storage room with the boy she knew you liked.

With his long legs, Mashle was within a second in front of the door, ready to open it “Nooo !” screamed Finn “That’s fine Imma open it for you guys” he said sweating, he didn’t really want to have another door to be replaced again.

Mashle didn’t say anything and entered docilely in the storage room. You followed suit as Lemon literally threw you inside. You also almost crashed to him - and his huge muscles gahh - sending a wave of red on your cheeks. The door closed rather roughly, because of how excited your friend was.

“Enjoy your seven minutes in heaven guys” she shouted, so that you could hear her.

“Yeah but don’t get too cozy in there” Dot screamed from behind the door.

Now it was just you and him - and your over-beating heart. You wondered if he could hear it in this dimly lit room, though knowing him he wouldn’t have even noticed. You felt your face getting warmer, it felt like you were in a dream. Like how come you even got you and him in this narrow room. Your brain was working at full speed to manage and find something to talk about and not make these seven minutes the most cringy and awkward seven minutes of both your lives - again Mashle doesn’t even seem to know those feelings.

As you were about to say something he went first “What are we supposed to do in there ?”

Did he seriously not have a single clue ( of course not 😂 )

“W-well, usually people talk and see if they like each other more than friends… I guess” your brain was actually sweating, trying not to blurt out that you’re so in love with him since the second day - because seriously on the first one he looked pretty dumb.

“Okay…” he said, looking down at you. He was pretty tall, besides the narrowed space was close to pressing you together, so as he spoke to you you could almost feel his breath on your hair “And what happens if they do ?”

Your eyes widened slightly, you clearly weren’t expecting this answer coming from him, since when was he so invested in a discussion that wasn’t about puff creams. You swallowed hoping that your voice wouldn’t crack as you answer.

“T-they kiss ?” you said, rather as if it was more a question than an answer, your arms raising at your sides to show you weren’t sure 🤷‍♀️ - you were “O-of course they have to both agree about their feelings”

“Okay. Do you like me ?” he said bluntly. You choked on your spit “Huh ?!? W-why are you asking this ?”

“Well to know if you like me too, so that I can kiss you, like the game says” he simply said, as if he didn’t at all reveal to you that he liked you and wanted to kiss you. You hoped he at least knew the game wasn’t actually demanding him to act on his feelings if he didn’t want to.

“Erm- huh… you know… well… yes ?” you said, almost scared there could be a wrong answer to his question.

As soon as the words left you lips he somehow managed to come closer to you, his chest was now pressed against your, if you leaned you could set your head on his strong body.

“Can I kiss you ?” he asked. And now your throat clearly couldn't speak any words. You only nodded. He leaned in, his hair slightly grazing the top of your hair. You looked up at him, gosh he was breathtaking even in this closet. Leaning further down, his breath fanned over your lips “I’m going to kiss you now”

And with that his lips - finally - made contact with yours in a soft almost shy kiss, as if he was scared - in the back of his head - to hurt you in any way or do something that could be seen as wrong or inappropriate. On the other side of the kiss you melted against his mouth, his lips tasted like whipped cream and sugar. But then soon, too soon, he pulled away. His cheeks were somehow flushed and for the first time you’ve seen his gaze avert from yours as if he was being… shy ? about the whole thing, after everything he has said before.

You gently wrapped your arms around his neck, so as not to startle him and brought your head closer to his “Do mind if I ?” you didn’t even need to finish your sentence that his voice, now hoarse came out breathlessly “Yes”

You kissed him, your eyes closing ( I seriously his would stay open in the beginning and you’d have to be like “Mashle can you close them it's weird” lmao. Not saying you can’t keep them open if you want though ) This time, he wrapped his arms around you drawing you even closer, his kiss was a bit clumsy and seriously you were almost suffocating in his embrace but still it was an amazing moment.

He turned his head to deepen the kiss, your nose brushed, eliciting a quiet giggle from you. He smiled in the kiss. This was different from everything he has ever known, he silently promised himself to protect you with everything he could, just like he promised his father. After you broke the kiss he took a sharp intake of breath as his sole action put him in a state of out of breathness that he never encountered before. Maybe that was being in love.

Not long after the door opened as Lemon’s head picked inside, soon followed by Dot’s who was very eager to see if anything had happened and if Mashle had yet again stolen another woman of this damn school. You both jumped away from each other, Mashle almost went through the wall.

“The seven minutes are over !”

“No please don’t tell me you’ve got her too ?!?” in reality Mashle didn’t get any girl from the beginning of his curriculum. There was just Dot being overly jealous, because he didn’t attract any women like he would have wanted.

“Iiiiiiiih Y/n ! You did it girl !” she wanted to hug you tightly but three people couldn't enter the storage room at the same time, so she waited for you to come out. She almost tackled you to the ground.

Mashle went back to sit down, his cheeks still reddened from the kisses you shared in that enclosed space. Both Finn and Lance looked at him weirdly as if they had seen something totally out of the ordinary, and it was. The raven haired boy, even apart from you, couldn't keep his eyes from drifting to your form. Hugging you or kissing you more seemed very enticing and soothing at the moment.

“Y-you okay Mashle ?” asked Finn, looking at him and then back at you, who was coming to sit back down with the others.

“Yeah I just wish the game wasn’t called after seven minutes. It’s too short” he said, biting in yet another puff cream, as if he yet again didn’t confess something rather personal. The other boy blushed at the admission. Dot continued grumbling in the background and Lance was looking through the window, trying to act unfazed and tough. Your eyes met Mashle’s and he gave you a smile before extending a puff cream at you. Yes it was clearly his way of saying that he loved you.

#mashle #mashle imagine #mashle fluff #mashle magic and muscles #mashle magic and muscles imagine #mashle magic and muscles fluff #mashle x fluff #mashle x reader #mash x reader #mash fluff #request #fluff #miri-writes #mash burnedead #mashle burnedead #mash burnedead fluff #mashle burnedead fluff #mashle burnedead x reader #mash burnedead x reader #mash burnedead imagine #mashle burnedead imagine

[sanguineterrain]

Hi again 😊 You suggested i could send another prompt, sooo… maybe you & Jason have been together awhile, and you’re kidnapped by (choose your villain) and Jason is worried and frantic but trying to not show it of course, and negotiating for your safety? Ends up rescuing you of course, in whichever way you prefer, and then they find comfort in each-other 💗

I haven’t had time or energy to work on my WIP lately so this is very lovely and gratifying 😂👌🏻💗

aghh that's the worst! wishing you luck on your wip!! i'm glad you like these <3 requests are open for jason, dick, and MAWS!clark kent btw!

this one is very batfam focused hehehe. ft dramatic ass jason and his surprise kidnapped fiancé lol.

jason todd x gn!reader. tw: violence, kidnapped reader, reader is pushed off a building for a moment but they're okay dw <3, batfam feels, jason being a protective bf, bruce being a GOOD DAD! c:

****

"Actually, if we're being honest, if anyone has the most trauma in this family, it's—"

Batman grunts. "Really, Spoiler, not now."

The comm line crackles as Stephanie sniffs. "Fine. Stay in denial."

"Bats."

Every bat and bird in Gotham goes still.

"Hood?" Barbara asks carefully, already tracking his comm link.

"Oracle," he says, clipped. "I'm gonna get right to it: I need a favor. Can you help? Yes or no."

"Little Wing, where have you been?" Dick asks. "We've all—"

"Shut up, Nightwing," Jason growls. "Either you help me or not. Which is it?"

"We'll help you, Hood," Bruce says, voice washing over Jason like a balm.

Jason takes a deep breath. It's okay. He'll find you. Batman always beats the bad guys.

He fiddles with his jacket zipper. Moments tick by. Dick remains crouched on a rooftop. Damian is similarly poised.

"My..." Jason swallows. "My... fiancé's been taken."

The comm explodes with noise. Jason winces and digs the bud out of his ear for several seconds.

"Fiancé?!"

"You're getting married—"

"When was this—"

"Who are—"

"Enough," Jason growls, finally shoving the bud back into his ear. "I don't have fucking time for this. Yes, I am engaged, and they've been taken. No more questions."

"Tt. You are engaged? Impossible. Batman, clearly someone has hacked the line pretending to be Hood," Damian says, folding his arms.

Jason rolls his eyes. "Believe it or not, demon bird, I found someone crazy enough to marry me."

"Little Wing, I—I'm really proud of—"

"Shut up!" Jason pinches the bridge of his nose. This was a bad idea. You're in trouble, and Jason intends to tear Gotham apart to find you, but involving his family? Has he really stooped so low...

Deep breath. His focus is you. You're the only person that matters.

"Look, I'm telling you because Oracle's tracking me anyway, and B would snoop until he figured out who I'm really looking for, so it's easier to just tell you. But make no mistake: you aren't my family, and you won't see us again after tonight."

Bruce's throat tightens. His cape flutters in the wind.

"Very well," he says after a couple beats. "Last known location?"

"I'm sending you the address now. I've retraced my steps a hundred times though, and I can't—" Jason grits his teeth. He can't tear up or break things, not again. "Fuck. I can't fucking find them, B. I... I don't know if-if maybe I'm too late—"

"You're not," Dick says automatically. "We'll find them, Little Wing. We'll bring them home."

****

Your head is on fire.

It feels like there's a thousand needles pelting your skull. Whatever you were drugged with, it's hard stuff, and it hasn't worn away yet.

You look up; you're gagged and tied to some kind of support beam. As your vision clears, you see that you're in one of the new high rise-in-progress. Only the skeleton of the building has been completed because if Bruce Wayne isn't involved, construction takes forever to complete.

Faintly, you recall Jason mentioning something about a construction company leaving half finished projects across the country and using them as havens for criminal activities.

Yeah. This is not good.

"Where the fuck is he?" The voice echoes across the concrete floor foundation.

"Mike, we sent—"

"I don't give a fuck what you did; obviously, you screwed up! He's not coming!"

You close your eyes, trying not to throw up on your gag. Your head spins when you open your eyes again.

Who's not coming? Your rescuer? Or somebody worse than your kidnappers?

You try to take a deep breath, but your chest tightens instead.

"Fine," Mike barks in the adjacent room. "If that hooded psychopath doesn't show up, we'll just dump this one. That'll send a message. Prepare the explosives."

A door swings open, and you flinch. You cower, shrinking from the figure.

"You better hope he shows," the guy growls, and cocks his gun. "Your boyfriend is the only reason you're still alive. It'll be such fun to watch him fall to his death, don't you think?"

You try not to show your swelling panic. How does he know about you and Jason? And you have to warn him. Explosives. Jason's walking straight into a trap, without backup, because you know he'll be alone. He always works alone.

Mike sneers and waves the gun around.

"Oh, yeah. I know your secrets. In bed with Gotham's biggest crime lord. You must be his favorite. I can see why."

"Mike!" someone shouts. "We got company!"

Mike's eyes blaze cruelly. "Showtime. You're coming with me."

You thrash as hard as you can because if there's one thing Jason taught you, it's to always fight back.

Mike backhands you hard enough to send you sprawling. Your hands are bound, so you can't catch yourself, and you hit your head on the concrete. Blood pools in your gums.

"Try that shit again, bitch," he snarls, and hefts you up.

He drags you up a flight of stairs. Your head throbs, and now your jaw aches. You're too dizzy to try to fight back again.

You end up on the roof, which is a miasma of beams and wooden lattices. Wind cuts through your face, and you close your eyes so they don't water.

"Hood!" Mike crows. "Wonderful of you to join us!"

"Wish I could say the same," Jason says, and your heart leaps at the sound of his voice.

You start to shout through your gag because you have to warn him. It's a trap, he'll kill you both—

Mike wraps his arm around your throat and squeezes. Air stops, and you choke on your cries.

"I'll kill you," Jason snarls, and you know he wants to say more, but he's trying to protect you. "Let them go and maybe I won't break every bone in your body."

"Oh, don't worry. You two will be reunited soon. What is it they say? Love blinds you?"

"Michael Cassidy," a new voice says, deep and deadly. "Let go of the hostage. We can talk this out."

You crack open your eyes. Is that... Batman? And Robin? And... Nightwing? What—

The arm around your throat tightens and you gasp for air as you start to choke for real. Oh God. Batman's going to die because of you.

"You involved Batman?" Mike snarls, now truly irate. You feel yourself being dragged backward, toward the edge. Your stomach rolls in warning.

"Take it easy," Batman says, palms up. "We can work this out."

"You can't play fair?" Mike shouts. "Then neither will I!"

The wood beneath your feet is gone. You're falling.

"No!"

But no sooner than you fall are you caught. Warm arms encircle your waist, and you're jerked to a stop before you can fall more than a few feet.

"I got you, baby, I got you."

Jason is connected to a grapple. At the roof edge is Batman, Nightwing, and Spoiler, all holding the grapple.

You shake your head, screaming against your gag. Bomb. Bomb!

"'S alright, 's alright, sweetheart, I won't drop you."

You scream urgently through your gag, butting your head against his helmet. Jason pulls your gag half free and you choke out the warning.

"B-bomb!"

His grip tightens. "Shit. B, get out of here! Place is rigged to blow!"

The first explosion goes off. Jason meets your gaze. He's terrified, you can tell, but he tries to mask it.

"Let go," he says.

"Wh—"

"He'll catch you," Jason promises. "I trust him."

And then he lets go.

Several more explosions go off. The building begins to crumble. Dust and heat sweep across your face and lodge in your already sore throat. You scream, in the air for a few more seconds.

Then you crash into gray body armor. A cowl, a cape.

"It's alright," Batman gruffly says. "Hold on tight."

Batman swings you both to safety on an adjacent rooftop. You watch him dive back into the flames. It isn't long before Jason swings out of the smoke, then the others. He pulls off his helmet and tosses it to the side, arms open.

You run and bury your face in Jason's neck, clinging to him. He hugs your tightly and rubs your back, saying over and over, I got you.

You sigh and slacken out of exhaustion.

"I've got you, baby," he says, though his voice is wet this time. "You're safe."

Jason checks over your wounds. You see the rage cross his face several times at every bruise and cut on you. He doesn't let go of you even after he's done. He's shaking too, perhaps more than you, as he cuts your binds and completely removes your gag.

The Bats land gracefully behind you. Jason stiffens as they do.

You kiss his jaw. His gaze returns to you.

"You saved me," you say.

"I always will," he says. "Always."

"Are either of you injured?"

Batman suddenly swishes to your side. You blink, startled.

"Nothing serious," you say. Jason grunts unhappily at that. You manage a smile. "Thank you. All of you. Thank you so much."

Jason nods stiffly. "Thanks, Bats."

Nightwing smiles, face soft with affection. "'Course, Hood. And, uh, Hood's fiancé. We're there any time you need us."

"That's right, chum," Batman says. The obvious care in his voice makes you ache.

Jason had called his family. His family with whom he has a plethora of problems. He'd called them for you.

"Jay," you say, voice thick with emotion. He seems to understand instantly.

"I'll always bring you home," he vows, cupping your face. "Whatever it takes."

He pulls you to him like he can't bear to be away from you any longer.

You squeeze his wrists. "I know. It's okay, Jay. I'm okay."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see that the Bats still have not dispersed. Spoiler looks like she's about to melt into a puddle. Nightwing is the same. Even Batman looks a little sentimental.

Robin is the only one scowling, tapping his foot impatiently.

"Hood, are you not going to introduce your fiance-we-just-learned-existed-tonight?" Robin asks, arms folded.

Jason huffs. "Not with those manners, demon brat."

You roll your eyes and extend your hand to Batman. You say your name, smiling.

"It's an honor to meet you, sir," you say.

Batman laughs, and it sounds a little fond. It's also kind of weird to hear Batman laugh. "No sir necessary. It's equally an honor to meet the person my son is marrying."

Jason makes a choked little noise. You beam.

"Well," Batman murmurs. "We'll let you two get home. We'll track down the rest of Michael's thugs—"

"Come to the wedding," Jason blurts.

Batman stills. "Me?" he asks carefully.

"Everybody," Jason says, tugging you into his side. "Uncle Clark, Aunt Diana, Selina, your ten thousand kids, everyone."

He turns to you. "I-I mean, as long as that's okay with you, baby."

"Oh, Jay. It's your family. Of course I want them to come." You lean in to whisper in his ear. "I'm proud of you."

"Little Wing, c'mere!"

Nightwing tackles Jason in a hug, then drags Robin, who protests loudly, in by his cape. Spoiler snaps a picture from the sideline.

"Now that's adorable," she says.

Batman looks at you. He removes his cowl, and you gasp quietly. He smiles, and it makes him look decades younger. You guess he hasn't smiled much since he lost Jason.

"Thank you," he says.

You tilt your head. "For what?"

"For bringing him back to us."

You duck your head. "Oh, Mr. Wayne, that wasn't me—"

"Bruce," he corrects gently. "And it was. You played a bigger part than you know. You saved him. Thank you."

#jason todd x reader #jason todd x you #jason todd x y/n #jason todd x yn #jason todd imagine #jason todd fanfiction #red hood x reader #red hood x you #red hood x y/n #red hood fanfiction #batman fanfiction #batfam fanfiction #dc fanfiction #inbox #blurb

[berberriescorner]

“Are You Listening?”

Interlude: “Drinks On Me, Yeah?”

Characters: Rio x Black!Reader.

Summary: Issa Interlude, mama. Expect the unexpected.

Warnings: Profanity, angst, fluff, and drinking-little libation for the one, two.

Word Count: 1,700+.

A/N: My lovelies! My babies! Mama’s back and I got a little sum-sum for ya! Let’s start this weekend with a little Rio and the crew, yeah? Yeah. I want to give so many thanks to all of you sweet lovelies who have been rocking with me this entire time. Most of you know that the past year and a half has been quite the struggle. To everybody who took time out of your day to come and check in on me, please know that I’m appreciative and forever grateful to have connected with such amazing people🥹♥️. Thank you for all the sweet, hilarious comments and asks as well💓. I’m a little rusty, so be gentle with your girl. Enjoy my sweet babies.  Before anyone asks, yes, I’ve been working on Pt. 4😂😏😈.

"Are You Listening?" - The Playlist

Apple Music.

Spotify.

Part One Here.

Part Two Here.

Part Three Here.

Inspired By:

Your body pressed down into the plush mattress as you reveled in the comfort and security of being home. Your mind replayed the image of your mom snatching the door open, the two of you hugging tightly, rocking side to side. You had spent the past week trying to survive final exams and warding off the many questions of, “What’s wrong, baby girl?” The woman who gave you life knew you all too well. Sensing that her youngest baby was struggling, her attempts to get you to open up over the phone went unanswered. With the semester complete, being home didn’t leave much space to dodge the knowing gaze in her eyes. 

That master’s degree will probably be a waste of time.

The moment you pulled away from the hug, she cupped your chin, and your poker face cracked as the tears cascaded down your cheeks. Two hours later, you filled her in on everything from the stress of school, financial aid, working doubles, and the fresh crack in your heart that was taking its sweet-ass time to heal. All of which had only taken about forty minutes to stutter out. The talk and her comfort had left you wiped out, and just like any amazing mother would do, she sent you to your room for a nap and got to work on preparing comfort food.

You considered dozing off for a bit more rest, but your bedroom door flew open, bouncing off the corner of your vanity. Your eyes narrowed to mere slits as you started to curse your oldest brother out. His hand raising halted the verbal reprimand.

“Alena’s big-headed ass is here to see ya mean ass,” he snarked about the woman who would eventually become his wife.

These two bitches are so in love. It’s sickening. The attraction is so annoyingly obvious. Shit makes me sick to my stomach.

Before you could tell him you didn’t want company, she was already in the doorframe. “Uh-uh, bitch you are not about to dodge me for another two weeks.” With those words said, you had no choice but to give her a rundown of what had transpired. Not only had she forced you to divulge every last detail while the two of you hugged and cried together. She also took it upon herself to wiggle you into your best freakum dress and head out for a girl’s night.

Being the baby and the only girl in your family made for very over-the-top protective parents. The moment your father saw your attire, he wouldn’t let up. He was hell-bent on forcing your brothers to chaperone.

It wasn’t a horrible idea.  Only you didn’t like your independence challenged. Luckily, the older siblings were pretty chill, so long as no one was overly aggressive. They had taught you how to handle shit for yourself at a young age. You spent the first half hour in the club pouting and ready to go home to wallow in self-misery.

“Hoe! If you don’t fix your face, scaring off every good-looking man in this club!”

“They’ll be alright, so long as they keep their distance. In case you didn’t get the memo after our long talk. Men make my ass itch,” you growled, kissing your teeth.

“Whateva, you and that stank attitude can have a good time together,” she sassed, throwing up a hand and walking away from the bar.”

“Where are you going? Alena!”

“I’ll be back, damn! Let me go on and annoy them, fine-ass brothers of yours. Be nice, and don’t bite nobody head off, sourpuss.”

“Always thirsting after my blood, just triflin’.”

With the flick of a middle finger, she sauntered over to their section. You could see the irritation rolling off them as she seated herself in the middle. The arguing started seconds later. Your eye twitched at the sight. Swinging the barstool back toward the liquor, you were about to pass the time scrolling through social media. Instead, a set of bronzed-colored, muscular digits came into view. They gently pressed your phone to the bar as the matching digits slid another lemon drop into view. Your eyes danced along those muscular fingers, trailing upward until they landed on one of the sexiest faces you’d ever witnessed. If any other man would’ve done this, he would’ve been set straight expeditiously. In this instance, ole boy was just too damn fine, and it left you on mute. The corners of his mouth lifted into a handsome smirk.

The stranger turned his barstool to get closer. One hand rested on the bar while the other cradled the back of your seat. His eyes roamed over your body, lip tucking between his teeth, matching you stare for stare. He chuckled when he noticed your quirked eyebrow.

“I don’t mean to intrude on ya evening, but I figured you could use another drink.”

“Is that so?”

“Couldn’t help but overhear your conversation with your friend. I’m tryin’ to  figure out why these men got your fine ass itching out here.”

Shit, he heard that? Floor, open up and swallow me. That’s so damn embarrassing.

As if reading your thoughts, he continued, “Nothing to be embarrassed about, mama. There’s a lot of boys running around here pretending to be men. Who was crazy enough to fumble you? He gotta be the dumbest man on earth.”

As if on cue, said fumbler’s name popped up on your caller ID. With a swipe of a finger, the phone went silent. You turned back to your new admirer. He had signaled for another round of drinks.

“Either you’re a big spender, or the bartender is your connect,” you teased.

“Connect is one way of putting it. This my spot, darlin’.”

He chuckled as you damn near choked on your drink.

“I’m sorry. Tend to put my foot in my mouth.”

“You good. I like a woman who’s not afraid to speak her mind. Dealing with me, you go to say it with your chest.”

“Oh, so you plan to be around me beyond tonight?”

“Around, underneath, on top. We locked in, mama,” he insisted, licking his lips.

“I don’t even know your name, fool,” you cackled at his cockiness.

“Name’s Rio, but you can call me Christopher, mama. My future wife needs to know my government name. I’m putting my trust in you. Don’t be tellin’ my business, sweetheart.”

“Who says I’m checking for you, Rio?”

“You accepted my company and drinks. Deep down, you’re intrigued by me. Ain’t no need to hide it. When I see something I want, gotta go after it, mama.” he rasped, voice lowering to a panty-dropping level.

“You’re trouble. I just know it.”

Rio planted both hands on your thighs. The gasp that escaped you lit his brown orbs with passion.

“Can I have your undivided attention for the night? Want to get to know you better, mama.”

Grabbing his outstretched hand, he helped you down off the stool.

“Rio…”

Piercing light flickered in the darkness, pulling you from the memory that played itself in your dreams. Your hand snatched the vibrating phone from the table. Your orbs squinted to read the screen, teeth clenching in frustration.

Fucking Rio, I can’t even get away from him in my sleep. Stupid-handsome-asshole.

With a single tap, the phone rested on DND. You closed off from the world to find a peaceful slumber, only to wake from another dream. Throwing the covers back, you startled, feeling the bed dip. His cologne wafted through the air, and your eyes connected.

“Why all the tossing and turning, amor? Hmm,” he rasped, hand trailing up your arm. His warm palm cradled the side of your neck, rubbing away some of the tension.

“Sorry, did my restlessness wake you?”

“No, querida. I’ve been up taking care of some things.”

“Same old Miguel. Everything business. Still don’t sleep much, huh?”

His eyes crinkled with a small smile, but you could also see sadness. It’s the same unhappiness that’s always lingered, only now accompanied by sparks of anger and resentment. Your mind replayed his words in the elevator.

Where’s your wife, Miguel?

She had other plans tonight.

The slightest mention of her had nearly sent his mood spiraling. You weren’t privy to what was happening in his marriage but didn’t want to pry. He would only reverse card uno your ass. Miguel would insist that you vent about your own life and frustrations.

“Thank you for taking the couch,” you nibbled at your lip. 

There was a hint of frustration and guilt lingering in your chest. Not being able to sleep without dreaming of Rio left you feeling conflicted. Part of you wanted to say to hell with loyalty. Being in such a vulnerable state had you craving to be held and cuddled, but regardless of circumstance, the two of you were very much married. Concern swam in the pools of his eyes. Miguel sensed the ongoing dilemma in your head, and his fingers gently cupped your chin.

“Hey, talk to me. What’s all this,” he asked, tugging the lip between your teeth. “Tell me what you need.”

“I can’t,” you sighed.

“You can, and you will. Look at me,” he insisted as your eyes locked.

“Anything you ask me. It won’t leave this room. You need me to hold you until sleep takes over, amor?”

Unable to verbally say it, you gave him a slight head nod. Removing his tie, watch, and shoes, he made it over to the opposite side of the bed. Miguel got right to it, not giving you time to overthink it. He pulled you into his chest, arms engulfing you in a tight hug.

“Were you having nightmares, cariño?”

“No, just happy memories reminding me of the present painful ones,” you replied, voice filling with unshed tears.

“You want to talk about it?”

Silence filled the room as Miguel continued, “We don’t have to ta-.”

His sentence cut short as he felt the tremors and your head burrowed into his side. Miguel’s heart cracked at the sound of the sobs falling from your lips. His arms pulled you further into him until there was no space left, and the palm of his hand rubbed at your head.

“Shhh, you’re okay. I’m here,” he cooed, leaving soft kisses on the crown of your head.

Miguel continued to whisper calming words. You cried until your head pounded, and sleep took over.

Hope you all enjoyed that little peek into how Rio pulled up on your girl for the first time. He saw something he liked, and he had to have you🥰. We’ll just call this a vague moment of insight into upcoming events...if that makes sense 😆. If you enjoyed please be sure to hit the love button, comment, and reblog. Spread the love, my babies.

Divider: @firefly-graphics

Tags:

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#berberriescorner #are you listening? #issa interlude #drinks on me-yeah? #series #rio x black!reader #rio x woc!reader #rio x reader #rio x y/n #rio fanfic #rio fanfiction #rio good girls #good girls rio #manny montana #black writer #spotify #daddy rio #miguel galindo #daddy miguel #rich papi #danny pino #i love my mutuals😍 #Spotify

[coffeebanana]

This was supposed to be for the Ladrien June prompt "morning", but I didn't feel like waiting another week or so 😂.

Excerpt:

[CW for grief/mourning and recent character death (Gabriel)]

Adrien cleared his throat. "I...ran into Chat Noir outside. He said he had to go, but he told me..." He took a deep breath, continuing in a whisper. "I know my father's dead." It was the first time he'd said it out loud, and the words came out surprisingly clear. It was only afterwards, when they hung in the awkward silence following Ladybug's sharp intake of air, that he felt like they were eating him from the inside out. Ladybug's grip tightened. "I'm sorry, Adrien. I'm so sorry."

Read on Ao3, or under the cut!! 💜

The rising sun hit Adrien's back as he forced his front door open, its light casting an eerie glow over the mansion’s battle-torn foyer. Half the ceiling was caved in. The staircase was all but destroyed. And scraps of metal amongst the wreckage glinted gold, like the dying embers of a fire. Like the end of an era.

It wasn't the victory it should have been.

As the door slipped from his fingers, Adrien squeezed his eyes shut and stopped to take a few steadying breaths—a dangerous idea. Police officers were still on site, gathering evidence amidst the wreckage. One of them could easily notice him, and then he might get stuck answering their questions. He needed to move. He needed to remember the simple instructions he'd outlined for himself before walking back inside.

Sneak into the kitchen. Grab food for Plagg. Get out.

Run.

He could cover his tracks later. It wouldn't be too hard to find an excuse for Ladybug as to why Chat Noir hadn't come back after he allegedly went outside to recharge. It would definitely be easier than facing her as his civilian self—as Monarch's son—right now.

But hesitation had cost him. "Adrien?"

Ladybug.

Unable to reply or to so much as glance in her direction, Adrien stared resolutely at a piece of rubble by his feet—a piece which he thought used to be part of the bannister. Tears burned the corner of his eyes, but he did his best to blink them away.

He tensed when he heard her approach, something he wouldn't have noticed so quickly if it weren't for the debris scattered about. Any other day, her footsteps would have barely made a sound against the marble floors.

Too soon, her feet stopped in front of him. He struggled to keep his breaths even, fighting to remain upright when it felt like the entire world was closing in around him.

"I...I thought you were at Nino's," she said.

Had he told her that? He barely remembered any of the excuses he'd made last night. It was hard to recall much aside from how he'd awoken a few hours earlier to find his father's body splayed unnaturally across the floor, his vacant stare somehow still bearing traces of disappointment.

The ambulance had pulled away maybe an hour ago, with no sirens to accompany its departure.

Adrien only realized Ladybug was probably waiting for a response when she grabbed his hand, pulling him back to the present with a gentle squeeze. His stomach swirled. Couldn't she have reached for his other side?

She deserved better than the hand he'd used to destroy his own father.

When he finally managed to look up, he only felt worse seeing the sympathy in her eyes. He quickly looked back to his feet, panic drowning out any response he tried to cobble together in his head.

"Has anyone told you what happened?" she asked.

Adrien almost said no—which would be the truth, technically. Nobody had told him, unless he counted the clarifications Plagg had provided after the fact, details of what occurred after Ladybug and Chat Noir fell victim to Monarch's Akuma. Part of him wondered how Ladybug would tell the story, which parts would she soften or leave out. He wondered what she really thought.

But maybe it was better not to know.

Adrien cleared his throat. "I...ran into Chat Noir outside. He said he had to go, but he told me..." He took a deep breath, continuing in a whisper. "I know my father's dead."

It was the first time he'd said it out loud, and the words came out surprisingly clear. It was only afterwards, when they hung in the awkward silence following Ladybug's sharp intake of air, that he felt like they were eating him from the inside out.

Ladybug's grip tightened. "I'm sorry, Adrien. I'm so sorry."

His gut coiled tightly with some unbearable emotion. He tried to think up something else to say, lips parting as he raised his head to look at her. But the second he met her eyes—so wide and blue and sad—speaking was a lost cause.

His lips quivered. A sob clawed its way up his throat, tugging another one up behind it before the first had even broken free. Ladybug's hand rubbed up and down his arm, and that was all the encouragement he needed to finally release the tsunami inside him.

Adrien had killed his own father.

For months he'd been suffering. Adrien had assumed, when Monarch reappeared from his brief hiatus, that he was okay. That the Cataclysm hadn't been fatal. Instead he'd had a front row seat to his demise—to all the times he cried out in pain while cooking breakfast, trying to pretend everything was fine whenever Adrien noticed.

But if it weren't for that Cataclysm, if Monarch's health hadn't been weakened, then the world might have ended a few hours ago, torn apart and rebuilt in his father’s image. With his parents and Nathalie still alive.

How was he meant to feel about that?

He didn't even know where he was supposed to sleep tonight.

But at least Ladybug didn't hate him. At least he still had one friend in this crazy, twisted world.

She pulled him into her arms as he broke down in tears, as he crumpled like the ceiling and shattered like the windows. As he was reduced to nothing but a shaky foundation, to the dying embers of who he used to be.

Adrien and his cold, lonely home finally had something in common.

...

"Here you go," Ladybug said, sliding a mug of tea across the kitchen counter as she settled onto the stool beside him.

Adrien wrapped his hands around the mug. The water was still too hot, but it took him a few seconds to notice. By the time he loosened his grip, his fingers already stung.

"Thanks," he croaked, his throat raw from crying. He wasn't really the biggest fan of tea, but it had seemed to make Ladybug feel better having some way to help him.

The least he could do was pretend she'd succeeded.

For a while they sat in silence. Adrien stared blankly at his tea, vaguely aware of how Ladybug kept shifting around like she couldn't get comfortable.

"Do you...have any questions?" she asked eventually.

He shook his head. None of his questions were for the living.

"Well," she said, "if you think of any later...I'd be happy to answer if I can. And if there's anything else I can do..." She reached out slowly to touch his shoulder, and it was all he could do not to shake her off. "Is there anywhere you'd like to go? Someone you'd like to see?"

Adrien fiddled with the string of his tea bag, watching it bob up and down. "Am I even allowed?"

"What do you mean?"

"To leave."

"Why wouldn't you be?" When he shrugged, her hand slipped from his shoulder. She slid her stool closer. "Adrien, you're not in trouble. Nobody thinks you had anything to do with any of this."

Maybe they should.

Adrien swallowed. "But...don't I have to talk to a social worker or something?"

"Oh. I, um...I don't know. I guess so, but there's nobody here right now, so...I don't think anyone would mind if I took you somewhere else to wait."

He nodded slowly, hand moving automatically to his pocket. He shifted to pull out the lucky charm he kept there, wrapping his fingers tightly around it. "Maybe I could go to my girlfriend's house."

"That sounds like a great idea," Ladybug said, jumping to her feet. "Let's go!"

Adrien remained glued in his seat, his stomach swirling. Seeing Marinette probably would make him feel better—at least on the surface. But how long could that last? Hiding his identity hadn't really come between them since they'd gotten together, but this was different. How could he hide the worst thing he'd ever done?

But what if he told her and she never looked at him the same way?

Ladybug's stool scraped against the floor as she sat back down, and she sounded upset when she spoke. "Do you not want to go?"

Adrien set the lucky charm on the table and watched the beads blur behind fresh tears. "I'm...scared."

"Why?"

"Because...what if Marinette sees me differently."

"Do you really believe she would?" Ladybug asked in a small voice.

He thought for a moment. "No? I don't know. Probably not, but...she could."

She grabbed his hand, and when he glanced her way there was an intensity in her eyes he couldn't interpret. "I'm sure she won't."

"You can't know that."

"But I do! I—she loves you, right?"

Adrien's stomach clenched, but he managed a nod as a hot tear rolled down his cheek.

"Exactly!" Ladybug said, gesturing nonsense with her free hand. "So there!"

He mustered a small smile for her enthusiasm, but it was short-lived. "It doesn't matter," he said, wiping his eyes. "Things are different now."

"Sure. But...that doesn't mean everything has to change, right?"

He didn't answer, trying to ignore the feelings swirling inside him by poking at his tea bag again. The water was cool enough now that it didn't hurt when he accidentally dipped his finger in, but the idea of actually taking a sip and swallowing seemed foreign. So he kept staring at it until a sniffle came from beside him. He turned to see Ladybug with one hand covering her mouth, tears trickling down her cheeks.

"My lady?" he said without thinking, reaching over to set a hand on her shoulder. Panic spiked through him when he realized what he'd called her, but she didn't seem to notice.

"I'm sorry!" she cried. "I didn't mean to...I'm f-fine! It's just that you—I just want to help you! But maybe I c-can't. And it's not f-fair, that you're hurting. And..."

Her next words were drowned out by a sob. She slumped down on the table, hiding her face in her arms. All Adrien could do was sit there rubbing her back until she calmed down, at which point she pushed herself up slowly, wiping her eyes.

"I'm sorry I let this happen," she said.

"What?" Adrien replayed her words in his head, certain he'd misunderstood. "It wasn't your fault."

"It was my job to stop Monarch from making the wish, and I...failed. Even if he didn't succeed...someone's still paying the price."

"That's ridiculous." It was his fault.

"Adrien, it's fine. You don't have to..." She drew in a shaky breath. "If you're mad at me, I understand."

None of the morning had felt real, but now Adrien was sure he must be caught in some sort of alternate reality.

Maybe the wish had worked. Maybe his mother would walk into the kitchen at any moment.

If only.

"That makes no sense," Adrien said slowly, still trying to wrap his head around things. "If anything, it's Chat Noir's fault."

Ladybug's eyes went wide. "Did he tell you that?"

How was he meant to answer that? "Not...exactly. But he told me about the Cataclysm, and—"

"Please don't blame him for that. I know he feels terrible enough already."

"Because Monarch's dead thanks to him. It's his fault!"

"It's not," Ladybug pleaded. "He was just following my plan, and Monarch caught us off guard, and then..."

"But...but you..." Adrien trailed off, his body shaking.

He didn't know what to say, because technically Ladybug was right. But he didn't blame her at all, and he certainly didn't want her blaming herself.

"It was my fault," he said, knowing it was true. He felt it with every inch of his body, with every useless breath he took.

The guilt consumed him.

"Adrien," Ladybug breathed. "It's absolutely not your fault. How could you even think that?"

Only once he processed her words did he recognize his own misstep. But she hadn't caught on yet. He could still walk this back.

But he wasn't sure he wanted to.

This secret took too energy much to hide.

"It was me,” he said shakily. “It was my..."

He couldn't finish the sentence. He could barely even breathe. But he could see in Ladybug’s eyes that she still didn't understand, so he raised his hand to mimic the motion, stretching out his fingers the way he would if he'd really called on his power. He tried to mouth the word too, but he wasn't really sure his lips obeyed. Slowly, he lowered his hand to the counter, letting it collapse into a fist when he made contact.

Cataclysm.

He watched as realization slowly dawned on her. Then she blinked hard, shaking her head as if trying to dismiss the idea. But her eyes flew to the ring on his hand, widening further.

“Chat Noir?”

"I did this," he said in a broken whisper. "I killed him."

"Oh, Chaton. No." Ladybug stood, wrapping her arms around him. "It was an accident. It's not your fault."

Adrien thought that maybe, if he kept taking breaths so small they barely counted, if he let his mind float away the way it had been threatening to do all morning, then maybe—maybe—he could keep from crying again. But Ladybug rested her head on his shoulder, her warm breath ruffling his T-shirt. And that was all it took for him to come apart again.

...

They ended up on the floor, wedged between both stools. Adrien wasn't sure if he'd fallen off his seat at some point or if Ladybug had carried him here. He didn't care. As long as he could keep lying here with his head in Ladybug's lap and her fingers in his hair, he could somehow keep the guilt at bay. He could stop it from devouring him whole.

But he couldn't stay here forever.

Marinette's lucky charm was clenched in his fist again, and he was afraid to let go.

"Should I tell her?" Adrien asked.

"Hm?"

"Marinette. Should I..." He closed his eyes. "Do you think she'd hate me if I told her the truth?"

Ladybug let out a shaky breath, her fingers freezing in his hair. "She won't hate you. And...yes. I think you should tell her."

"Okay. Maybe I will."

"How about this?" Ladybug said. "If she breaks up with you, I'll date you instead."

Adrien managed some semblance of a laugh. "What about your boyfriend?”

“Mmm." She twisted another strand of hair around her finger. "Somehow I don’t think he’ll mind.”

“All right then. It’s a deal.”

Her offer was a joke—he knew that. But somehow it still felt like a promise.

"Would you...like me to take you to her now?”Ladybug asked. “I still can, if you want."

"Maybe." He thought of the bakery. Of Tom and Sabine's welcoming smiles, the smell of croissants, and being wrapped up in one of Marinette's hugs. It sounded nice. "Give me five more min—" He broke off in a yawn.

Ladybug laughed. "Or you can get some sleep first." Her voice was gentle and steady and safe. "I'll stay with you."

He tried to reply, but his words were engulfed by another yawn. So he settled for mumbling his agreement, squeezing the lucky charm to his chest, and letting his eyes flutter closed.

Maybe in his dreams, the world wouldn't hurt so much.

#miraculous ladybug #coffeebanana fics #ladrien #angst #hurt/comfort #cw grief #cw character death #miraculeakless #adrien agreste #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #long post #season 5 compliant (up to what's aired so far aka episode 20)

[muddyorbsblr]

rules of conduct: the checkout queue

Series Masterlist See my full list of works here!

Summary: in which Loki learns the ways of having to wait in line

Pairing: Loki x Reader

Word Count: 964

Warnings: smut (minors & pearl clutchers, don't even think about it); vaginal fingering; exhibitionism-adjacent; 1 cuss word (not even remotely sorry, Rogers)

Things to be aware of: teammates to…y'know what even I'm not quite sure what they are by the end of this…partners in smut? 😂

"And after crossing out every item on this list, with a considerable amount of ancillaries…" You had to roll your eyes at Loki's comment about the boxes of Pop Tarts and grape sodas and Vanilla Cokes that took up more than half the space of your cart. "We can finally leave this market teeming with the mundanities of man?"

"Not so fast, Mischief," you called out to him, stopping him mid-stride as he made his way to the exit. "We have to pay first."

"You do not simply walk away with what you desire?" You shook your head at him, holding back your laughter as the concept visibly confused the god. "That was how merchants were to me and Thor back in Asgard."

"Well you're on Earth now. And I'm not royalty, they won't just give me all this for free unless I have an arsenal of coupons or they find me pretty enough to give me a 'friends & families discount' in exchange for flashing them my tits or giving them my number."

"But I am a prince—"

"Not here, you're not," you cut him off. "Some people barely even want to acknowledge that the Earth isn't flat, good luck getting them to accept that there's anything beyond the solar system. Let alone more intelligent and superior life forms." The corner of his mouth twitched in a smirk at that last bit. "So here you're an alien. Not a prince. Not a god. Well…unless we find people who heavily subscribe to Norse mythology so I gotta make sure we keep you far away from that." 

He took a look around the marketplace, two fingers hooked at the front of your cart and not so subtly dragging it, and you, along with him as he made his way through the aisles. You made the split second decision to place your feet on the bottom rack to give your feet a break from walking and letting the towering Asgardian do all the work instead. 

"Wait. Loki where are you going?" You avoided the pointed glares of the people in line that he passed, the irritation quickly melting into unabashed leering stares as they took in the way his black jeans and dark emerald shirt clung to and perfectly accentuated his lean, godly form. He looked back at you, breaking out into an amused grin when he saw how you were standing on the rack of the cart, his other hand pointing toward the cashier as if to answer your question. "There's a line, Mischief. Gotta move to the back and wait our turn. You know, just like everyone else." 

Loki let out an exaggerated huff before turning the cart around and walking to the back of the line, the sound morphing into a faint chuckle when he heard your muted 'wheeeeee', only dismounting from the rack when you two finally stood at the end of the five cart queue and causing the women to risk neck pain from looking back and shamelessly checking out your teammate. 

Your breath hitched when you felt his large hands resting on your hips, the lustful glances of the women in front of you once more becoming scathing as they switched their focus from him to you, and just how closely he stood behind you, the tip of his nose tracing the shell of your ear. "Okay now what're you doing?" 

"Simply waiting our turn, darling." You could feel him smirking against your skin as fingers played along the waistband of your jeans, briefly dipping under and stroking the skin underneath and making you grip the handle of the cart so hard your knuckles were turning white. "Do you not think this would be a much more…titillating way to pass the time?" 

"You are going to get us into a scandal, Laufeyson," you hissed under your breath, struggling to keep your composure and subtly kick him so that he'd stop fucking around as deft fingers undid the button of your jeans, sliding the zipper down at an agonizing pace. "If you wanna incur Pepper's wrath because you were horny during this stupid acclimation effort that Stark assigned me to, be my guest. But don't drag me in with you--"

"Did you truly think I would let any of these inferior prying eyes see what we were up to, little mortal?" he whispered, breath tickling the tiny hairs at the side of your head. "All these people are seeing is your ever affectionate lover, my arms wrapped around you, the two of us engrossed in our own conversation. Every now and then I would press a kiss to your face." As if to emphasize his point, he pressed a soft kiss to your cheek, humming against your skin as he did so. "Just like that." 

"Cameras," you hissed. You couldn't find it in you to voice the rest of your sentiment. You are not my lover, and I'm not your darling. 

Mostly because you wanted so desperately for his illusion to be your reality.

"Under the same illusion." He kissed a path down to the corner of your mouth. "Tell me to stop." He groaned as he pressed another kiss to your skin, his fingers slipping under your panties and slowly making their way down. "Tell me you don't want this, too, and I'll stop--"

"I can't," you blurted out, a whimper slipping from your mouth as he finally pressed his lips to yours.

"Then you'll need to keep quiet for the remainder of the queue, darling." He captured your lips in another kiss, muffling the moan that escaped you when his fingers traveled further down and met your slick arousal, running up the length of your slit and rubbing tight circles against  your clit. "Or else we shatter the illusion." 

A/N: so…welcome to 'rules of conduct'! requests for this series/collection will forever be open, so if you have any scenarios you want to put these two blorbos into that fit the theme of the story, send them over and I'll see what I can do 😄 (also I don't have that many ideas on what exactly I'm gonna have them do next after this other than another shot at fitting room smut, maybe public library, and then that's about it)

‘everything’ taglist: @sailorholly @loopsisloops @unlucky-number-13 @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @sarahscribbles @kats72 @kikster606 @evelyn-kingsley @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lovelysizzlingbluebird @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @dangertoozmanykids101 @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @lokidokieokie @lunarnights95 @superficialdomina

Loki taglist: @calumance @severuslovebot @moonlightreader649 @i-stand-with-loki @nixymarvelkins @infinitystoner @lokisgoodgirlbackup @purplegrrl27 @thedistractedagglomeration

'rules of conduct' masterlist: @acidcasualties

#loki x reader #loki x female reader #loki smut #loki drabble #loki fanfiction #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfiction #muddyorbs writes

[pinkypromisepascal]

𝙹𝚎𝚊𝚕𝚘𝚞𝚜 (𝙳𝚎𝚊𝚗 𝚆𝚒𝚗𝚌𝚑𝚎𝚜𝚝𝚎𝚛 𝚡 𝚏𝚎𝚖𝚊𝚕𝚎!𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛)

request by @chloelouisejohnson: hi!! so boring and predictable but could we get a jealous dean x reader with plenty of angst and a healthy dose of smut?? mabye jealous over reader and sams friendship but sam and reader are only so close because deans a douche and constantly pushes reader away the second they start getting close?

summary: you are friends with the Winchester brothers and often help them with research for their cases, mostly working together with Sam because Dean always seems gruff towards you until you confront him about his behavior

content warnings: angst, jealous!Dean, swearing, smut [fingering, praise, p-in-v, unprotected sex], enemies to lovers I guess?😀

word count: 4.8k

author’s note: I really hope you like this one, I tried my best, wasn’t really sure about how their relationship would develop, but I think it turned out ok. Also, this is my first time writing smut, so be nice with me😂

/// this has only been proofread by myself ///

You had met the Winchesters about two months ago when they had been working on a case in your hometown. You weren’t a hunter yourself, but you’d always been a very curios person, especially when it came to things that didn’t seem easy to put into words, like emotions, some natural phenomena, or even the supernatural. Naturally, you had started working at the local library years ago after having worked a secretary job for what had felt like eternity, so you could bury your nose in the all kinds of literature you could get.

When Sam and Dean had been staying in a local motel for the case, you couldn’t help but do some research on your own. They had spiked your interest even more after showing up at the library to search for newspaper reports. Since you were working at said library, you had offered them to stay after closing hours if they needed to. Which had led to the three of you taking up a table for six people with what felt like one hundred books. You had talked to Sam about the case and had searched the library for more helpful literature.

Ever since, it seemed that you had bonded with the Winchester boys. You liked both Sam and Dean, but you sometimes felt like Dean wasn’t as easy-going as his younger brother. You figured he was just a more practical guy than Sam who wasn’t so much into digging through tons of literature, who preferred to just get the case done and head over to the next one. Which was completely understandable, theory tends to be the less exciting part. But Dean always seemed kind of on edge when he was around, and you just couldn’t grasp why. Sam and you spent a lot of time in the bunker’s library to gather information about the cases. You didn’t always need the books, you just really liked being surrounded by them. Dean never spent more than ten minutes around the two of you. He usually just came around to ask how the research was going and to get a quick heads up on the information you had gathered so far, only half-heartedly listening to you while sipping a drink.

But over the last few days, you felt like he distanced himself even more. When Dean was around, he didn’t really want to know anything if it wasn’t about a case. Sometimes, when Sam was gone, it felt like his eyes were piercing through you. Dean didn’t really talk much to you, he just… watched you do your stuff. You did try having small talk with him when you were alone, asking him questions about past cases or his family, which was a big mistake as you had noticed right after asking. “Alright, don’t you have something to do? You don’t have to force some small talk, ‘kay?”, he had spat. To be fair, you did know it would be bad idea to ask about his family, Sam had told you the most important things, but what else were you supposed to do? Another time after that, when you had offered to go take care of the laundry with him, he just told you get back to Sam and help him out. Was Dean annoyed by you? Didn’t he like you being in the bunker with them, although he had been the one who invited you to the bunker in the first place?

“Do you think Dean’s been acting weird lately?”, you asked Sam one day, both of you focused on the bright screens on your laptops. You were researching for a case about people disappearing in the woods a few towns over, and dogs barking at seemingly nothing. You had both thought about Ghosts, Rugarus or other flesh-eating creatures, maybe even a new one, some kind of hybrid, which would make it more difficult to kill. Sam was still absorbed in his notes and didn’t notice you asked him a question until you nudged his leg under the table and asked him again. “What do you mean? Isn’t he acting like he always is?”

“I don’t know. I feel like… I think Dean doesn’t like me. He’s never around when we’re doing research, he only shows up for food or drinks-”

“Well, Dean never really liked those research days, to be fair.”, Sam interrupted.

“No, I mean, yes, okay, but seriously. When you’re out to get groceries or something, he’s so… tense all of the time. It’s like he really wants to punch me in the face, but he tries to do that by staring holes into my head or something. He always seems so angry, it drives me nuts!” You ruffled your hair and groaned. “You know, I really like being here, and I’m so glad that we help each other out, but… you know? He was the one who suggested I’d come around when you guys got something going on, so why is he acting like he regrets that decision more than anything?” Sam told you that he didn’t really notice Dean had been acting like that, but he could imagine that Dean could act like that if something really got to his nerves. “Did you talk to him about it?” You cocked your head and furrowed your brows. “Of course I did! Well, not particularly about that, but I did try to have a normal conversation with him, but I think he’d rather poison himself than tell me about the stick up his ass.” Sam chuckled and shook his head. “Well, I don’t really know what to do about that, I doubt that he’ll tell me what’s wrong, he’s, uh… not a man of big words most of the time. Maybe he just doesn’t really trust you yet, even though it’s been months since we first met, but, um, yeah… Don’t know, sorry.” Sam gave you a sad smile. “He’ll come around, I guess. Maybe he just needs time. And maybe you shouldn’t think too much about it. If he doesn’t treat you how you wanna be treated, you can confront him or just ignore him. Give him a taste of his own medicine or something.”

You thanked Sam for listening to you and excused yourself to a little break. You went through the backdoor of the bunker’s garage, holding your pack’s last cigarette in your hand, fiddling with the lighter in the other. The whole situation just didn’t leave your mind. Should you try to talk to Dean again and apologize for anything you did, even though you couldn’t think of what you could’ve done to upset him so much? Or should you just wait for him to approach you? You took a drag of your cigarette and closed your eyes, trying to stop your thoughts from racing, feeling small rain drops cooling your skin. This is so stupid, you thought, so stupid and childish, my god, grow some balls, Dean!

Distracted by your own thoughts, you didn’t notice the Impala rolling out of the garage until the horn startled you. You turned around to see Dean behind the wheel, motioning at you to get out of the way. You just stared at him with wide eyes and spread your arms to the side in a what the fuck? motion, cigarette still sitting between your lips. Reminding yourself that he wasn’t worth picking a fight, you stepped aside, waving your arm to signal him to get going. As he drove off, you flipped him off, not really intending for him to see it, but still hoping he would. “Fucking dumbass”, you mumbled. You put out your cigarette on the nearest rock and headed back inside.

When Dean came back half an hour later with some fast food, you expected him to take his food and return to his room again, but to your surprise, he sat at the table with you and Sam. You and Sam exchanged looks, you tried to telepathically tell him that this was unusual compared to the last weeks, but Sam just shrugged. You didn’t expect him to do something about the tension between you and Dean, you just wanted someone else to see how weird it could get between you and him.

“So, uh, how’s the research going?”, Dean suddenly asked between bites, not specifically looking at any of you. “Well, we’re not quite sure what the case is about yet, we couldn’t figure out what creature might be causing the troubles, our best guess is something like a Rugaru, maybe a ghost that’s stuck in the forest for some reason, maybe even something like a Crocotta? You know, those things that can mimic human voices and lure their victims into traps. But, y’know, we’re not sure. Maybe looking for clues in the woods would help us out.” You shrugged and bit into your burger again. Dean looked at you and Sam. “So, that’s it? That’s all we’ve got so far? Man, we’ve been better before.”, he grouched, probably more to himself than to you and his brother. “Well, maybe we’d be faster if we had your help.”, you simply said. You immediately sensed Sam shifting in his seat and felt Dean’s glare on you.

“Come again?”

“Oh, you heard me, Mister I just sit in my room all day or drive around in my old car because I’m too full of myself to hang out with those boring bookworms.” Sam almost choked on his burger and mumbled a “Oh god, here it comes.”

You looked over to the older Winchester. He opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it again. “Someone spit on your burger or something? The fuck’s your problem now?”, he asked.

“My problem is that you’re complaining because Sam and I haven’t magically solved the case yet! We’re working hard to get as many clues as we can before we show up there tomorrow while you’re just ignoring us! You never show up, and now you sit here with us to eat and pretend like you haven’t spoken a word to me in days? The fuck’s wrong with  you, Dean?! You were the one who invited me here and told me that I could help you guys out, and you’ve been rude to me ever since!”, you snapped, despite noticing that Sam clearly got uncomfortable at this point. That didn’t stop you from continuing your rant, though. “You make me feel like you just got me here so you can chill out or something, because you poor little boy don’t get enough rest! I get that your lives are tough, but that doesn’t justify you treating me like a stress toy you use to let your anger out on every once in a while. Sam clearly does a better job at making me feel welcome around here!”

Sam cleared his throat and before he could try to settle your dispute, Dean smacked his fist on his table. “I’ve had enough of you, y’know that? Yes, I did invite you to join us every now and then, but I knew I was taking a risk with that-”

“Oh, shut up, Dean, what’s that even-”

His fist came down on the table another time.

“If you don’t let me finish talking, I’ll make sure you regret ever coming here.”, he growled, his eyes turning a darker shade of green. From the corner of your eye, you noticed Sam shifting in his seat again.

“Listen close, alright? I’m not gonna say this again. You are allowed to be here because I allowed you to after you were really helpful for one of our cases. Right? Sam and I talked about that, and we both knew that it would be risky to let someone else in here, someone who’s not a hunter. You lack skill, alright? You can’t fight, you can’t defend yourself against other people, let alone monsters. If someone wanted our heads and tried to get to us through you, you’d be dead faster than you can name your favorite book. But we still took you in, because you were good to us, and we rarely get good company ‘round here.” Dean paused for a moment, but his eyes gave away that there was so much more he wanted to say.

“So, I’m just another face to look at until you get tired of it? You’re just gonna cut me out of your lives again when you get bored of me?” You tried to keep your voice steady, but it was still shaking. You were bouncing your leg under the table and felt tears build up. “You don’t even talk to me Dean… at least not in a… normal way. I tried to have a normal conversation with you, and I know that asking you about your parents was a stupid mistake, but… every time we’re alone in a room, you just… stare at me like I’m a failure, like you don’t even want me here. You never even thanked me for all the times I’ve helped you so far.” A few tears quietly ran down your cheek. You crossed your arms in front of your chest and looked down on the table again.

Dean ran a hand over his face while Sam took care of the dishes. Uncomfortable silence filled the kitchen. You were the first to get up. You wiped the tears from your face and ruffled your hair. “I’m gonna go to sleep, I’m too tired to drive, but I’ll be out here first thing tomorrow morning.” None of the Winchester brothers answered as you left the room, but when they thought you were out of range, you heard Sam speak up to Dean. You couldn’t quite figure out what he said, he spoke too quietly for you to hear, but you could hear Dean loud and clear when he barked back, making you freeze in your spot.

“We both know she doesn’t belong here, Sammy! She shouldn’t be with us, she should be leading her normal life, you know how it ends when we like people.” Dean had gotten quieter towards the end, he sounded… torn.

This is too much right now, I really need to sleep, you thought and went on to the bedroom they had offered you to use. As you dropped onto the mattress after brushing your teeth and changing into something more comfortable, exhaustion took over quickly and you drifted into a dreamless sleep.

About two hours later you were wide awake again, joined by a pulsating headache. You groaned and rolled around in the soft bed. “The last thing I needed today.”, you said to yourself as you massaged your temples. Luckily, you always carried light Ibuprofens for such cases, but you still needed water, so you trudged to the kitchen again. After taking the painkiller, you rested against the sink for a while and recapped every moment between you and Dean that had to lead up to the depressing dispute that evening. You remembered one day where Dean had offered to go grocery shopping. You had wanted to join him and pay for the groceries as a thank you for the boys taking care of you when you were there. “I’m fine, just go hang out with Sam, you’ve gotten pretty good at that.”, he’d said. You hadn’t thought much of that, you were too taken aback by him brushing you off like that, but now that you thought of that moment again, something seemed to click.

Was Dean jealous? Could that be why he’d been acting so stiff around you? But there’s no reason to be jealous, you thought.

Dean’s deep voice pulled you from your train of thoughts. “You okay?” You shortly looked at him standing in the doorframe and then massaged your temples again. “Woke up with a headache in the middle of the night, but other than that…” You shrugged, “Fine, I guess… why’re you up?”

“Fell asleep in the library. I, uh, I took a look at your notes. On the case.” Dean cleared his throat and rubbed his hands together, unsure what to do with himself. You looked at him with furrowed brows, and when he lifted his gaze to meet yours, you were surprised yet again by how green his eyes were. Because Dean had been avoiding you most of the time, you didn’t get many chances to take a close look at his pretty, chiseled face. But when you got the chance, you didn’t want to take your eyes off it.

“Listen, I, uh… I snapped at you earlier, and I’m… I’m sorry for that. I just- it just got too much for me in that moment.” Dean ran a hand over his stubble and cleared his throat again. After taking a deep breath, he continued talking. “Truth is, I don’t hate that you’re around, ok? I know I made you feel like that, and I get that you’re mad at me. And what I’m gonna say now will sound so cliché and shitty that you’ll wanna take another painkiller for your headache, but, um… I need to get it out ‘cause it’s been driving me insane.” Another short pause where neither of you knew exactly what to do. Should you take Dean’s hand to let him know that it’s okay? Should you hug him? Get him a drink?

“It’s just that… I love having you here with us, I love how you liven our life in here up. And I noticed how you and Sam were getting closer each day, because you’re both huge nerds who read books all day, so I- I thought I’d just leave you to it and not get in the way. It’d be too dangerous anyway. So I just… I don’t need to tell you what I did, you already know that part.” A light chuckle came from you. “I’m sorry for how I treated you. But I need you to understand that I was keeping myself from risking your life.” Dean almost pleaded. “Why do you always bring up that I’m weak, that I need protection or things like that? How would you be risking my life by treating me like a normal human being?”, you asked him calmly to avoid the situation escalating again.

Dean stepped closer, locking his eyes with yours again, resting his hands on the sink behind you, capturing you between his frame and the sink. “Because I don’t wanna just treat you like a friend. With the thoughts I’ve been having about you, I can’t treat you like just a friend. There’s so much more. But I’ve been stopping myself from acting on it because every single person I’ve ever cared about was taken from me. It makes me feel like I’m cursed or something. It’s like the moment I start liking someone, they’re doomed. And from then it’s just a question of time till I find them dead.” You couldn’t even focus on the last sentence he spoke, you were too startled. He was having ‘thoughts’ about you? Him? Dean Winchester? About you? Despite every encounter you two had had? It made no sense to you.

“Dean”, you started, not even knowing what you wanted to say to him. You looked into his eyes and took a deep breath. “Start fucking acting on it.”, you hissed. Dean cocked his eyebrow. “What?”

“You said you stopped yourself from actin’ on your feelings and thoughts ‘cause you were too scared and - apparently - jealous of Sam because we’re spending a lot of time together. Which is only because every time we have a moment to ourselves, you start acting like a complete douchebag. I like you, Dean. So please start doing what your mind’s telling you to do because I can’t stand douchebag-Dean anymore. I kinda hate him.” You started laughing at yourself and this whole situation. “Oh, you don’t want that, sweetheart.”, he just countered. “Oh, come on, think I can’t handle you, big boy?”

“I just think you underestimate me. I like your smugness, but I’ll rid you of that quicker than you think. Once I got you in my hands, you’ll melt.”, he purred. “And after that, you’ll be mine only. I’ll leave you just as obsessed with me as I am with you.” Dean’s right hand came up to your face, his thumb gently tracing your lower lip. “But I need your permission for that.”

Too frozen in this moment to form a sentence, you just nodded and before you could think of something else, Dean’s full lips crashed on yours, lightly biting your lower lip. You sighed as you opened your mouth, his tongue slipping inside, exploring.

Dean’s hands squeezed your waist and pulled you closer to him, your hands running up his torso to grab him by the collar of his shirt. He kept kissing you, making you hungry for more. Between kisses, you asked him if he really wanted to do this here in the kitchen. “Good point.”, he mumbled and picked you up bridal style in one swift motion. You shrieked in surprise, Dean shushed you immediately. “You’re gonna have to be quiet if you don’t want Sam to hear us. Walls are kinda thin here.”, he said as you entered your bedroom. Dean lightly dropped you onto the mattress, earning a chuckle from you. He climbed on top of you, kissing along your neck and jawline. “I wonder what other sweet sounds I can get out of you.” You fumbled at his button down to shrug it off his broad shoulders, but Dean seemed to have other plans. “Patience, sweetie.”, he said as he kissed you deeply again, “I wanna take my sweet fucking time with you, till you’re weak in every single muscle.” Him saying such things already made you almost see stars as waves of desire flamed through your body.

Dean’s arm went under your back and he lifted you to sit on his lap. “Now be a good girl and take that shirt off for me.” His large hands cupped your breasts as soon as your shirt was gone and slowly kneaded them, rolling your hard nipples between his thumb and index finger. “Look how good they fit in my hands.”, he murmured against your lips. You eagerly rolled your hips against him, feeling his erection under your core. Dean groaned and captured your lips again. “Your turn.”, you panted with a smug smile. “Why don’t you do that for me, hm?”, he chuckled. With no hesitation, you clawed at his button down, finally shoved it from his shoulders and then put your hands under his t-shirt, slowly pushing it up while he sucked on your neck.

Both of you were still wearing too many clothes, so you decided to drop yourself on the bed again, pulling Dean with you without your lips breaking contact, getting hungrier and more eager with each kiss. Dean’s kisses started traveling across your body, licking and biting certain spots he knew would drive you crazy. You shuddered when he reached your lower belly. His fingers hooked under the hem of your pants, he slowly dragged pants and panties down along your legs, making sure his lips would reach every tingling spot on their way down. Your eyes rolled back and you arched your back lightly, impatient, wanting to finally feel him inside of you. Dean lifted his head to look at you. “If only you could see you goddamn pretty you look right now.” He pushed himself up to kiss you again, one of his hands drawing slow circles at your core. “And you’re gonna look even prettier when I’m done with you.”, he mumbled as he carefully pushed his index inside of you, making you inhale sharply. “God, so wet for me already? Hm, what did I do to deserve this?”, he cooed, looking deep into your eyes. “You okay, sweetheart? Tell me if you wanna stop.”

“If you stop now, I’ll never talk to you again.”, you panted and rolled your hips into his hand as you felt him pull out to add another finger. “That’s what I wanna hear.”, he chuckled. Dean fingered you in an almost agonizing pace, enjoying how smooth you felt, knowing exactly how much you wanted him to do more. Your hands started fumbling with his belt and unzipped his pants. Dean sat back and quickly slid his pants down and threw them aside, now only in tight boxers. Your eyes fell onto the outline of his thick cock. Dean grabbed your face and forced you to look at him. “Eyes up here, sweetie.” He grabbed one of your hands and led it down to his crotch, making it wrap around his cock through the boxers. You slowly pumped him as good as you could, not breaking eye contact. Dean groaned huskily, leaning his forehead against yours. His hand found your core again, two fingers sliding in and out of you while his thumb circled your clit.

Soon enough, Dean couldn’t hold back much longer. Drawing his hand from you again, he slid his boxers down just enough to set his cock free and positioned himself between your legs. “Do you want this? I need to hear it.”

“Yes, Dean, please.”, you whined and bucked your hips. Dean carefully pushed himself inside, keeping his eyes on you to see your reaction. He intertwined your hands and kissed your forehead as he kept pushing. You felt yourself stretch around him, felt yourself adjust to his size.

He bottomed out with slow thrusts, trying not to loose control of himself. “Fuck, you feel amazing.”, he growled and picked up the pace a little, “Can’t believe I finally have you to myself.” Your hand was pressed against his chest, desperately searching for any contact it could get. “Dean, faster, please.”, you moaned. Dean took his hand from yours and used it to lift one of your legs up, putting it over his shoulder and leaning down towards you as he started pounding into you, slick sounds and skin slapping against skin filling the room. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head and you moaned loudly at him fucking you like this. Dean shushed you once again. “As much as I love making you sound like that, you should keep quiet if you don’t want Sam to hear this.”

You grabbed Dean by his neck and pulled his face as close to yours as possible. “I don’t care, I just want you to keep doing this, fuck.”

“How could I stop when you’re taking me so well? Like you were made for me.” Dean’s hand slipped between your legs, pressing down on your lower stomach and getting you closer to the edge. He started kissing your neck again, running his tongue along the pulsating vein and lightly sucking on it. On his way down to your breasts, he kept biting your sensitive skin just enough to hear those sweet moans from you, marking you as his with the bite marks.

“Dean, please.”, you whined, slowly getting overwhelmed at the feeling of his cock ramming into you over and over, “I’m close.”

His hand went to grab your face again and he almost completely pulled out as he gazed at you, his breath coming shorter. He was close too. “Beg for it.”, he demanded. “Please make me cum.”

Right as you finished your sentence, Dean pushed himself in in one hard thrust and kept this harshness as he picked up the pace like before. Your nails dug into his back and shoulders as you held him close to you, almost screaming when his thumb circled around your clit again. You were so damn close to the edge already, and got sent over it as Dean grunted, “Good fucking girl.”

You came undone around him, his lips catching yours to keep you quiet as he kept penetrating with your walls squeezing around him. Dean cursed under his breath and quickly pulled out before coming on your stomach. You rested your foreheads against each other, needing to catch your breath again, coming down from your highs.

Dean leaned down to kiss you carefully, almost as if you could suddenly break apart beneath him. “We really just did that.”, you said to break the silence. Dean chuckled and nodded, “We sure did.”

You both sat up and Dean helped you get cleaned up. After a short trip to the bathroom, you both laid down on the bed again.

Dean grabbed your hips and made you straddle his lap, looking deep into your eyes, taking in all of your details. You caressed his face with your hands. “You know this wasn’t a one-time-thing, right?”, Dean asked, “I mean, I’m taking a big risk here, but fuck, the things you make me wanna do to you. I’m not gonna let you go.” “Easy, tiger, I’m not going anywhere.”, you chuckled, “I mean, I do have to get back for work soon, but… y’know. I think I’m gonna like being here even more from now on.”

#dean winchester x reader #supernatural dean #dean winchester #dean winchester fanfiction #dean winchester imagine #dean being mean #smut #dean winchester smut #supernatural smut #first smut #request #dean winchester x female reader #jealousy

[ihavemanyhusbands]

Hi BB 😌 can I get a one shot with Hotch and BAU!Reader where Hotch knows reader is a plant from Strauss and she's been watching the team for months and Hotch hates her and she hates him, but they can admit that they're definitely hot and they fuck? No enemies to lovers, just a good spiteful fuck. ~maybe~ they do it more than once, but there's no love. They don't see the best in each other, just some bomb ass genitals 😂

Heyyyy mamas 😏😏 oh hell fucking yeah!! I need a dose of this rn

(Minors DNI!!!!)

——

You knew exactly why you had stayed late in the office, but you still questioned yourself. You watched the members of the BAU trickle out as the clock ticked way past five PM. You’d used paperwork as an excuse to linger, but the truth throbbed between your legs.

It was pathetic, really.

Sure, you were expected to be courteous with the Unit Chief — Aaron Hotchner — and perhaps even cozy up to him to be in his good graces. But you had taken that to the extreme… and not in any sort of conventional way.

The truth was, the two of you couldn’t stand each other. But unfortunately, your bodies reacted completely different to your rational minds. The whole irony of it was pretty maddening.

And so, after weeks of heated glares, snarky remarks, and sexual tension so tangible that it could be sliced with a knife, the two of you finally caved in.

And the worst — or maybe best — part about it?

It wasn’t a one time thing.

In fact, whenever things got especially stressful, you had come to the secret agreement to use each other for some release. No strings attached, much less something romantic. God forbid you became amicable.

So, when the last of the stragglers clocked out for the day, you headed to Hotch’s office. You knocked on the door as a courtesy, subsequently hearing his rumbling ‘come in.’

You shut the door behind you as you stepped in, crossing your arms over your chest. Hotch sighed heavily, leaning his elbows on his desk and giving you a stern look.

“You know, you were a real pain in the ass today,” he said. “Did you really have to be so relentless in front of the team?”

You shrugged, smiling slyly. “I just know how to get what I want. Can you blame me?”

He stood up from his desk, shoving his hands in his pockets and approaching you slowly.

“And what exactly is it that you want?” He asked, his dark eyes roaming all over you.

You reached up to undo the first couple of buttons of your shirt, back pressed against the wall as he came even closer.

“Aren’t you a profiler, Agent Hotchner? I’m sure you can figure it out.”

He scoffed, only half amused. “Why don’t you enlighten me instead?”

You reached for his tie now, toying with it for a moment before tugging him towards you. You tilted your chin up, staring directly into his eyes, your lips a hair’s breadth apart.

“I want you to fuck me hard against the wall until you forget why you were so mad in the first place.”

His throat worked as he swallowed hard, but then he grabbed your arm, maneuvering you. “Turn around.”

You complied with a small, triumphant smile. You undid your pants, but before you could push them down, he grabbed both of your wrists and pinned your hands behind your back.

“Allow me,” he said sardonically, lightly kicking your legs apart.

He pressed your front against the wall and used his free hand to yank your pants and underwear down.

You bit your lower lip as he brought a hand down to your cunt, chuckling darkly at what he found.

“So wet for someone you hate, huh?” He taunted, his deft fingers still teasing your slit. “How does that work?”

“Don’t act like your cock’s not throbbing in your pants right now,” you countered. “I know you’ve been wanting this all day, too.”

Your body jerked as he delivered a sharp spank to your ass.

“You seem awful sure of yourself,” he said. “Maybe I shouldn’t give it to you. That’ll really teach you a lesson.”

You bared your teeth in frustration to his teasing, glaring at him from your periphery.

“Bite me, Hotchner.”

“Oh, you’d like that, wouldn’t you?”

Still, you head the soft growl of the zipper and the clink of his belt being undone. Soon enough, he lined yourself up with your entrance and pushed in slowly.

You inhaled sharply as he buried his free hand in your hair and pulled your head back slightly as he bottomed out.

His thrusts were hard and shallow at first, keeping himself mostly sheathed inside you, his body pressed against yours. Your eyes fluttered closed as he hit a spot deep inside you that almost made you lose yourself.

“Harder,” you pleaded. “I don’t need you to be gentle with me.”

“I know I don’t,” he panted, rearing back to spank you again, once on each side.

He chuckled as he felt you clench around him with each strike. His large hands gripped your hips, fingers digging into your skin.

“Now keep your hands behind your back or I’ll stop.”

You wanted to retort, but you wanted some release even more, so you acquiesced. Now he didn’t hesitate, his thrusts quick and punishing.

You could hear him try to control his breathing, grunts of pleasure escaping his throat. With each thrust, you pushed your hips back to meet his. Your cheek was pressed against the wall, and you couldn’t help the wanton moans that spilled from your lips.

“If-if only the team knew what a desperate slut you are for my cock, hmm?” He rasped close to your ear. “I wonder what they’d think of you t-then.”

“Says the o-one who gets a hard on every time I challenge you,” you retorted. “Maybe I should just shove your face into my pussy next time. Put your mouth to good use— ah fuck!”

He covered your mouth with one hand, his thrusts even rougher. “Shut up and take it.”

As the two of you got closer to your climaxes, you reached back and grasped part of his shirt as best as you could at that angle. His grunts grew louder, the rhythm of his movements stuttering.

You came as you felt heat flooding your cunt, your walls spasming around him. He muttered fuck under his breath, sucking a breath between his teeth as you practically milked every last drop of pleasure out of him.

Your cries were muffled by the palm of his hand, your muscles tensed as you rode the last of your ecstasy. Was it possible that it got better and better each time?

It sure seemed that way, much to your chagrin.

When he pulled out, he went to retrieve tissues from his desk, handing you the box as he worked on cleaning himself up. You did the same, avoiding looking at each other.

You pulled your pants back up, composing yourself as best as you could despite still being in a fucked out daze.

He cleared his throat, adopting his stern demeanor once more. “I want you here bright and early tomorrow. Lots of paperwork to go through.”

You scoffed, opening the door and flipping him off. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be here. You owe me some coffee, though.”

He huffed once more in amusement and you rolled your eyes, taking off. He could really get on your nerves, but damn if he didn’t know what he was doing when it came to your body…

——

#aaron hotchner #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner x bau!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner smut #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #minors dni

[sashi-ya]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝟐𝟑 DAY 14: BONDAGE Trafalgar Law 𝘹 F! 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

Requested by: @valval08 ➡ Hi @sashi-ya YESSSSSS IM AO EXCITED TO KINK-TOBER!!!! If it is not already taken. Can I please request Law x Female Reader with print number 14 leather straps / bondage. Can the reader be a brat and trying to distract Law from his work as a challenge. So she will send subtle messages. Cause we all know that man needs a break lols 😂 tw: mdni. can be considered part 2 of day 12 . tied with his belts to a chair. fingered while he has a video call. spanks. oral sex. rough sex. name calling. wc: ~2k 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

That night, when the car turned into your love nest, ended with both of you absolutely tired. A lot more than before.

However, work should be done the next day. So, Law, woke up and turned on the computer. At the moment, he was taking some time off from hospital, so he only arranged videocalls to chat with patients and be able to do a follow-up on their states after cardiac surgery.

You wake up, with your body a little sore. It was easier when younger, even if you are sure Law would have left you in the same state either way.

From his room you hear him chatting with someone, and soon remember it must be one of his patients. Yet, the little giggles of such patient were making you a total mess. You get it, Law is absolutely handsome. His dark aura, how intelligent and amazing surgeon that he is, the sound of his low voice, his silver eyes and those tattoos that antagonize with the stereotypical look of a respected doctor… he is by far different. He is more than attractive…

Would it be bad to pass walking right behind him? To show the giggling patient that indeed a man that hot is already taken?

By the time you ponder how mad he could get, you are already walking by covered in his white sheets, wearing just satin shorts underneath. You act surprised when you see the camera, so do a little jump, cover your mouth with your hand, and run away -not before looking at the camera for the stupid patient to see your “do not come any closer to my man or you will perish” look.

Law opens his eyes wide, and his cheeks turn bright red. His caramel skin does very little to cover his embarrassment. And you are trying not to laugh, as you sit down in the kitchen to look at him while he -tries to- keeps working.

The sheets that were covering are now thrown over the couch, and your bare chest flashes on the corner of his eye.

You calmly open a bottle of water -it was needed- and drink calmly as you listen him ask, now a little out of himself, medical question to his patients.

In between patient and patient, who Law seems to asses quick enough to get rid of them all in less than an hour, he scolds you.

“(Name)-ya?! It wasn’t necessary! Why- why are you half naked?” he asks, as if he wasn’t hard already from the “accident” you just had with the bottle of water and the drops of cold one drizzled on your breasts.

“I didn’t know- you could have woke me up. I was thirsty, I wanted water and I could only find out at the kitchen… I’m sorry ~” you purr a fake excuse, while trying to dry the drops on your skin playing so nonchalantly with your nipples.

“I can’t fuck you right now, I still have two patients left” he grunts, crossing his long legs. It’s obvious he is dying to penetrate you right there and now.

“I wasn’t asking for it, please finish your work… I will just eat a banana for breakfast and then get into the shower. Go on...” you smirk, peeling one of the fruits over the kitchen table.

Law closes his eyes, and his dark circles intensify. His “painful” expression can be interpretated as, one; he is worried for the integrity of his dick, or two; he is hating that last patient before he could be free to fuck you rough, or ultimate the number three: option one and two together.

As he sits back down in front of his laptop and waits for the next video conference, you begin eating the banana… well, eating it’s just a bad way to explain what you were doing to that poor potassium fountain… As if he was his dick, you tempt him while enjoying your sweet breakfast.

You can see his leg anxiously bouncing under the desk, and his hand trying to stop you with desperate shaking. You, however, won’t stop. If you can turn him on to the point of not be able to do anything else but fuck you, you will. No matter what.

And by the moment he finally bids goodbye to that poor old man, whose heart has been patched up by Law several times, he closes the laptop in violent motion.

Law stands up, an aura of invisible fire surrounds him. He is mad, and horny and tired but needy.

“You little shit, come here” he grunts, grabbing you by the hand and pulling for you to stand up.

You laugh and choke with the last piece of banana, but immediately stop even breathing. Law gets his lips closer to yours, almost grazing them. And pulls you towards him, mercilessly.

“You brat, If you are that eager to choke, don’t do it now… choke with my dick instead when I’m done” he growls, softly slapping one of your breasts and then sitting you back down.

You widen your eyes. Law can be rougher; it’s just about pushing the right buttons… And while you expect for him to lower his pants down, he simply orders you to wait sitting there. You fidget your fingers, what is he doing?

A couple of minutes pass and then you see him coming from his bedroom with various belts in his hands and perverse smirk.

“Uh… Law? What are those for?” you ask, worried -not really-

“You can’t keep yourself still, therefore I need to tie you down until I’m done with my last patient” he calmly informs you, while expertly joining to belts to make a longer one.

You smile, excited. But are you sure this is gonna be a soft bondage attempt?

“Turn around, kneel on the chair” he commands, pulling from your hair to “help” you.

You gasp, you are in awe… this is a first time, even for you.

Law proceeds to lower your silky satin shorts down, enough to uncover your core. The shorts get stuck at your knees’ height, and he seems pleased with it.

“Spread your legs, now” he commands, carving his nails in the inner side of your thigs.

You do, thinking of the bruises that will appear on the sides of your legs as the arm rests engrave in your skin.

Your feet hang down, and your ankles quickly feel the cold surface of his leather belts securing them to the chair’s arm rests support.

Law then surround the chair to watch your both confused and amazed façade.

“Your hands. Pass them in between the open spaces of the splat” he orders, pulling from them to tie your wrists together with the belt.

You allow him to move and position as he pleases, as his personal doll. However, you are still confused by the fact there is yet another patient he needs to attend. Did that person cancelled the videocall? Or what is he planning to do?

“Law… wha- what about your last patient?” you ask, but he definitely stays quiet. And suddenly you sense him pulling from the chair until you are left right next to his desk.

“I told you that I had to keep you still somehow, and this, I think, is the best way. If you dare to make any sound while I’m on the videocall, I will leave you there for the rest of the day without fucking you” he informs you. Law isn’t playing, and you wonder if he has always been that kind of sadist. In any case, you are excited to see what’s next -and how to stay silent all throughout the videocall-

You nod and wait.

He sits down, moves the laptop to the side so that the camera won’t be facing you in any way, and proceeds to wait for his patient. He seems to ignore you, until his arm stretches, and his index begins to play with the wetness of your labia. Now you understand why you should keep yourself quiet.

Law seems to be unbothered while he finally starts the consultation with his patient. It is a woman, who seems to be also flirting with him. Your toes curl and imagine in pure jealousy how she might be fluttering her eyelashes to him… however, as if nothing happened, in angle that couldn’t be seen in the web cam, the one being fingered by Law was no other woman but you.

You bite your lip, trying not to moan. Your eyes shut close, praying for the outside noise cancelling microphone would cover your low whimpers when he uses the perfect beckoning motions on you.

All of a sudden, Law laughs with his patient and takes his fingers out of you. You are dying to moan louder, to mark some territory. But you remember his words… staying there all day and above all not getting fucked is enough punishment not to disobey him.

As he has stopped touching you, you keep dripping unstoppable strings of pleasure. Imagery that Law checks in quick side looks towards you. He is probably wanting to end with the meeting as soon as possible… but maybe not. Maybe leaving you needy, as you did with him, sounds better.

Your breasts are squeezed against the backrest of the chair, and with subtle up and down motions you try to reach for some pleasure by grazing them with it. But nothing seems to be enough… you really want Law’s dick inside one of your holes.

When you finally listen to the words “You are doing great, Miss Hancock. I will need you to come to my office next month. Send my salutes to your husband, Luffy” you smirk… now, the moment he closes his laptop, he will be all yours…

Or rather you, will be all his.

“Look at the mess you made, (Name)-ya…” he grunts, giving you a spank on your ass.

You flinch but moan out of pleasure. It felt unexpectedly hot to be slapped so suddenly.

“Will you fuck me now, Law ~? I kept it quiet and still…” you purr, proud of your submissive behaviour.

Law scoffs, standing right in front of you. His pants fall to the ground, and his hard dick flashes its erection close to your lips.

“Not yet, I promise you to choke first. You were hungry, weren’t you?” he smirks, grabbing you by the hair to guide your mouth to his throbbing tip.

You gag, choking as he said with his sex reaching your throat. He is punishing you with deep thrusts, using your mouth until he is satisfied with the tears running from the corner of your eyes to your cheeks.

You fight against your muscles turning weak, and you keep taking his hardness in your mouth like his good girl. Proud surgeon, he felt, to see you looking up at him while getting “orally” abused.

Satisfied with your noises and strings of saliva sprouting from the commissures of your lips, he finally lets you breath and positions at your back.

“Now, (Name)-ya… you deserve to be fucked” he moans in your ear, after bending over your back while grazing your entrance with his saliva coated dick.

“F… fuck me, please… Law… my knees…” you plead, with your knees already in pain from holding your weight, but eager to get penetrated by his extra horny self.

He carves his fingers on your left ass cheek, pulling up and to the side to spread you enough for him to go deep. He guides his sex with his free hand, and his goatee graces your nape. “Get ready to be wrecked. You played too much with me, and I’m specially hard in the mornings”

You tremble, his voice right in your ear… his scent, the weight of his body on yours, how open you are, the tip slipping inside…

“Fuck, Law!!” you whine louder than ever, and now that he is inside you his hand lands on your mouth. Slipping his thumb on your mouth as he starts to pound, violently, hard, mercilessly…

“Be a good girl and take it well… I hope this is what you were looking for…” “I… it… is even better, Law ~”

taglist: @stephisokay @henrioo @shuzuiikoii @bullbonez @fengxinwifutobecalled @i-started-reading-fanfics-at12 @crimsonlikeshellsing @weebare808 @thestarwasborn @bookandyarndragon @cyberdazetragedy @uzxotic @fushiguroshotwife 💖🙆‍♀️

#trafalgar law headcanons #trafalgar law x reader #trafalgar law x you #trafalgar law scenarios #trafalgar law #law headcanons #trafalgar law smut #law smut #law one piece #law scenarios #law x reader #trafalgar law x y/n #law x you #law x y/n #law imagine #one piece smut #one piece x reader #one piece x reader smut #heart pirates law #law #kinktober #kinktober 23 #kinktober 2023

[softguarnere]

Hi, Dove!

It’s been awhile! I hope you’re doing well!

Sending in an request, idk where this is going😂

Okay so female reader with Liebgott and something along the lines where one of them yells “BECAUSE I LOVE YOU, YOU IDIOT!” in the middle of an argument. I’m not really sure about the rest of the details, so you can do whatever you want😂

Have a great day!

Hardheaded At Best

Joe Liebgott x reader

A/N: Hi lovely! Thanks so much for another wonderful request! I hope you enjoy it, and that you have a great day as well 💕 (This is written for the fictional depictions from the show - no disrespect to the real life veterans!) Warnings: language, mentions of war

When was the last time that you felt this angry, this fired up? Some distant part of you wonders as white-hot wrath courses through your veins. Your nails dig into the soft beds of your palms, barely containing yourself as you stalk through the hallways, boots echoing off the walls of the remnants of Haguenau’s buildings. Although you think you’re doing a pretty good job of appearing calm, the people who pass you by give you concerned looks as they watch you go. Is it that obvious?

Either it’s not, or Liebgott is good at pretending. Because when you stomp into the room, he only glances up at you. He doesn’t look ready to fight, or even to throw a witty remark your way.

For a moment, you just stand before him, spluttering as you work out what to say and gasping as you try to catch your breath over the adrenaline caused by the anger surging through you. Finally, you manage to spit out the simplest question you can manage. “Joey, what did you do?”

The two of you are the only ones in the room. There’s no one else around. No one else to look cool for, to perform for. Yet Joe continues calmly smoking his cigarette. He blows a smoke ring, as if you haven’t just demanded an answer, then grinds out his cigarette and looks up at you, completely neutral.

“I did what I had to do.”

“Am I the only person in second platoon not going on this patrol?” You wonder aloud. “Tab said that you volunteered to take my place.”

Joe shrugs. “Yeah.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, forcing a lungful of air to try and calm yourself. You don’t want to yell. Hell, you and Joe were so competitive back in Toccoa, half teasing and half not as you competed against each other in everything, that you’ve been determined not to argue since you finally became friends back Holland. But this – this is testing your resolve.

“Why would you do that?” You ask slowly, emerging from behind your hand to look at him again – still infuriatingly casual.

“(Y/N), the war is almost over.”

“So they say.”

“I’m not risking losing you over there,” Joe says. “We’ve been watching each other’s backs forever now. But we’re too close to making it out of this thing to risk it all now. Besides, what’s the point of having two translators?”

He’s not risking losing you over there? “But what about you, huh? I don’t want to lose you either, Joe.”

“Had to be one of us.”

He’s right. Someone has to be able to communicate with the prisoners that will be taken. But if someone has to go, you would prefer that both of you cross that river. Then one of you wouldn’t be waiting anxiously all night. You could watch each other’s backs, just like you’ve been doing.

Any points you might make to refute his lodge in your throat, sticking there while you fumble. Liebgott is hardheaded at the best of times; you don’t know what to say to make him see this from your perspective.

The conflicting emotions must show on your face, because Joe cocks an eyebrow in question. “Why does this bother you so much, anyway? It’s not like this is the first time only one of us has gone on a patrol.”

No, but it’s the first time that this has happened since you became friends. Since you started caring about him. Since you started worrying about losing him . . .

That’s when the realization hits you. The emotion that underlies all of your internal conflict isn’t anger – it’s fear. Fear of losing someone you’ve grown to care for.

“Joe, I can’t let you go alone. I’ll talk to Speirs myself. I – “

“(Y/N), no!” In a second, Joe jumps up from his chair and places a hand on your shoulder to stop you. His eyes are wide, and he’s got an expression that you’ve never seen before, and that you can’t quite place. “I got you taken off that patrol for a reason.”

“Well, you shouldn’t have,” you retort, a renewed wave of anger sweeping over you. “It wasn’t your choice to make.”

“I did it because I love you, you idiot!” Joe exclaims. Then he blinks, as if stunned by his own words. Perhaps they did not have his permission to be spoken. Or maybe they weren’t planned, or he doesn’t know where they came from.

You certainly don’t. Don’t know where they came from, that is. Joe never seemed interested in anything romantic with you. You, however, have occasionally allowed your mind to wander to a place where your friend is something a little more – a place where he holds your hand and reserves all his warmest smiles just for you. You never would have imagined that his mind had wandered in a similar direction. “You – you what?”

Joe hesitates, then nods, confirming his words to both you and himself. “I love you, (Y/N). That’s why I got you taken off the patrol. So that I don’t have to worry about you.”

“That’s why I want to be on the patrol – with you! So I don’t have to worry.”

“Oh.” Joe blinks again, taking it all in. “I tried to protect you. You tried to protect me. We both fucked up.” He tilts his head, studying you. “Do you really?”

“What?”

“Love me?”

“Yes,” you answer with no hesitation. It’s strange to say it out loud. To realize it, here, in this moment, at maybe the same time that he did. And right before the patrol places you on two different sides of that river, where God knows what will happen.

Gently, Liebgott takes your hand. His lips are warm when he presses them against your knuckles in a sweet kiss. “Then I have a reason to make it back across the river.”

Your heart trips over itself in your chest. How cruel is fate, to let it happen like this. “You better. Joseph Liebgott, I swear to God, you better come back from the patrol.”

But maybe fate isn’t cruel after all. Because you’ve hardly left the room, hardly stepped outside, when Major Winters stops the two of you and informs you that Joe will not be crossing the river – he will be staying firmly on this side to provide covering fire, with you.

The major walks away like nothing happened, leaving the two of you confused, but smiling. You can’t help but laugh as you take it in. “What happened?” You wonder aloud. After all, how are they going to take German prisoners without a translator?

“No clue.” Joe squeezes your hand. “But I ain’t complaining.”

It’s brief, but from across the street, Webster catches your eye. The Harvard man gives you a nod. He’s a writer. A romantic, even.

You return the gesture, wondering if Joe saw it as well. “Yeah. Me neither.”

#joe liebgott #joe liebgott x reader #band of brothers x reader #band of brothers fanfic #band of brothers imagine #my writing

[krirebr]

🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Curtis + bound wrists + “Mmm such a jumpy little thing, you’re not used to being treated this way, are you?”

This took me forever, but between being sick at the beginning of the week and work kicking my ass at the end, it took a while to get to a point where I could string multiple sentences together. 😂😭 But we're finally here. I'm a little afraid this is only half a hoe thot, but it's already over 600 words and I kind of like ending it where I did. This is my contribution to the Curtis successfully takes the snowpiercer and deserves a reward trope. I hope you enjoy! Thank you for playing with me!!

Warnings: dark elements, bondage, forced public nudity, threats of and implied non-con, explicit language, 18+ - MINORS DNI

Your wrists were bound with rope in front of you as you were led into the meatpacking car, wearing what you’d been sleeping in, a short nightgown. You shivered, partly out of fear and partly because it was freezing in this part of the train, nothing like the warmth you’d always had in your private compartment near the front. A group of tail-enders flanked you. They’d barged into your room in the middle of the night. They’d overpowered you, tied up your hands, and then dragged you out. You weren’t sure how long you’d walked or what was happening. The whole train seemed to be in chaos.

One of the tail-enders pushed you to the car's center towards a large man wearing a dark overcoat and a wool beanie on his head. Animal carcasses hung all around him, in the process of being butchered. He had sharp blue eyes and an intense stare that he fixed on you, like you were the most prime cut of meat in there. You tried to hold your ground but the man pushing you forward was stronger than you were. 

The blue-eyed man reached above himself and pulled down a large hook on a chain suspended from the ceiling. The men on either side of you grabbed your bound hands, raising them above your head. You tried to flail away, scream for help, but it was no use. The rope around your wrists was placed on the hook, which was then raised until you were balancing on your tip toes. 

The large man, who was clearly in charge, stood right in front of you. “Hello, sweetheart,” he said, his voice deep and gritty. “My name is Curtis. This train is mine now.”

That could not possibly be. That wasn’t how things worked here. “What?? Where’s Wilford?!” you shouted.

He chuckled. “I killed him,” he said, plainly. 

You tried to recoil or thrash or something but suspended how you were, all you could really do was sort of sway.

“Life is about to change drastically for all you front-enders, but for you most of all.”

 “What? What are you talking about? Why me? I didn’t do anything!” you protested.

He nodded calmly. “Yes,” he said, “I’m sure that’s true. I’m sure you did a whole lot of nothing while my people suffered in ways you can’t imagine for seventeen years.”

You felt your eyes start to tear up. You couldn’t help it. You felt like you were still asleep. Maybe you were. Maybe this was just a nightmare. 

“What are you going to do to me?” you whimpered.

“I saw you, you know,“ he said, instead of answering your question. “I had to pass through the club car to get to the front. And there you were, dancing away like you didn’t have a care in the world. And I thought to myself, ‘That’s what I’ll deserve if I make it through this.’”

All you could do was look at him, confused.

“Oh honey,” he said, reaching out with one finger to brush away a tear that you hadn’t realized had fallen. “What am I going to do to you? Whatever I want. You’re my reward.”

In the moment it took you even to start to process what he’d said, he tore your nightgown away. He took one of your now bare breasts in his large hand and squeezed it cruelly, tweaking your nipple. You jolted at his touch, whining despite yourself. 

“Mmm, such a jumpy little thing, you’re not used to being treated this way, are you? That’s ok,” he said, with a sharklike grin that both terrified you and went straight to your core, “I’ll make sure you get used to it real fast.”

Tag lists are open

@stargazingfangirl18 @yenzys-lucky-charm @thezombieprostitute @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @bval-1 @km-ffluv @texmexdarling @ladyvenera @roxyfan14-blog @darkserenity24

#ask kris #shameless hoe fairy #stargazingfangirl18 #dark curtis everett #curtis everett x reader #curtis everett x you #curtis everett x female reader #curtis everett #snowpiercer #drabble #chris evans characters

[emgene]

maybe an enhypen reaction to their s/o being a clumsy person?

i’m such a clumsy person so…😂

alsooo i’ve followed you for a really long time, probably a little bit after i started my account and i just love your fics! my favorite i think is the enhypen reaction to them wanting their s/o to wear their clothes but they’re oblivious. ahhh i just thought it was soooo cute and i also want to make a reaction like that. it’s adorable!! i’m also very oblivious to those sort of things hahaha 🤪 so anyways i just want you to know that your a fantastical writer and you’re amazing!! 💕💕 i hope you have an awesome day/night because you only deserve the best ^^

HIHI sorry for this being so extremely late!! school was a wreck and then familial problems ensued, but whatever! thank you so much for your love and support, it means so much to me!! Love you!! <3

Enhypen With a Clumsy S/O

warnings: not edited, jay is dramatic, riki mentions you possibly falling into a pond... i dont think i swore?

Jungwon is constantly worried about you. He's always watching your every move. You keep him on his toes, he swears someday you're going to end up in the hospital 'cause you tripped over your own damn feet. He says that half of his paycheck is spent on bandages for you.

Heeseung finds it hilarious. He makes fun of you, too. You'll trip and for the next hour you'll hear him going "WHOOP-" and pretend to fall. You'll leave for work and he'll say, "Don't let the door hit you on the way out! Literally!"

You, sweetheart, are the reason that Jay will start greying early. You give him so much stress, he swears he'll go into cardiac arrest. He threatens to put you in a bubble, or wrap you in bubble wrap. It looks like he has children because everything is baby-proofed. Jay carries around a first-aid kit specifically for you.

Honestly Jake doesn't really realize how clumsy you are until he sees on the bruises on your legs. He questions you about it and you end up listing what each bruise is from. The table, the stairs, the wall... Only then does he notice just how frequently you tend to get hurt. He jokes around about having to get one of those leash backpacks for you.

Sunghoon is more... bewildered and amused than worried? You'll smack your head on an open cabinet door and he'll just sigh and chuckle before going to check on you. He likes to say that if it weren't for him and his "incredible" nursing skills, you would've irreparably injured yourself already.

Sunoo says you are the entertainment in his life. He almost makes you getting hurt into a game. "How many times will Y/N get hurt today?". He does this thing where, if he has to put a bandage on you, he'll let you put one on him in solidarity. Is it a waste of bandages? Yes. Does he care? Not really.

Ni-Ki... he causes many of your injuries. He doesn't mean to! He just forgets that you don't usually catch yourself when he "bumps" into you. He teases you a lot, just like Heeseung, if not more. You'll go to the park or something and he points out everything you could hurt yourself on. "Hey you could fall into that bush! or slip on the gravel! or get hit in the head by a soccer ball! Or-" "Riki..." "maybe someone will push you into the pond!" "RIKI!"

#emgene #enhypen imagines #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen headcanons #enhypen x reader

[jedi-enthusiast]

Original Post

@sonic-fairyspell THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!! and NEVER apologize for rambling, I love rambles and listening to people’s theories on stuff- (it’s actually very motivating lol) -plus i’m about to ramble your head off, so it’d be kinda hypocritical to not want you to ramble 😂

—————

To answer your question:

Yes! It's the emblem of the Jedi Order!

Most of the clones wear the normal emblem, but the Coruscant Guard wears the emblem of the Temple Guard—since both guards share a mutual dislike of the Blue Guard- (the natborn Corrie Guard, basically) -because of how the Blue Guard treats them. This leads to them working together, growing close, and becoming friends!

Whether it's the regular or the Temple Guard emblem, though, both symbols are painted on for the same reason.

In the middle of The Great War- (which, yes, i'm still working on, don't worry) -the clones have been exposed to some pretty harsh anti-Jedi sentiment. It pisses them off, but there's really nothing they can do, and they at least have the comfort of knowing that the Jedi aren't treated like objects, right?

That is, until the Corrie Guard overhears some senators complaining about the Jedi "not doing enough" on the war front- (nevermind the fact that they were doing everything they could with limited numbers) -which isn't really something new…

...until they hear them refer to the Jedi as "a Republic resource" and talk about them like they served no purpose except to obey their whims.

(and boy, didn't the clones find that familiar)

This news spreads quickly throughout the GAR and boy are they pissed. Even more so, knowing that they can't really do anything about it.

So they decide to do the only thing they can, show the Jedi that they're not alone.

They paint the Order's emblem on one of their shoulder pauldrons each, always adding their own unique spin but also making certain that it's still clear what it is.

The Jedi are touched, and they return the favor.

They paint their vambraces- (the only armor any of them ever wear, much to everyone's mutual chagrin) - in their battalion's colors, showing that they aren't alone either.

…

Rex is the first to paint his shoulder pauldron in the 501st-with clean, precise, lines, in their signature blue.

He shows it to Ahsoka, and she almost cries.

He shows it to Anakin, and Anakin is...curious.

Rex says that all of his brothers are doing it, and Anakin asks why—genuinely curious, since they place so much value on their armor being unique.

Rex tells him that it's to show that they're loyal to the Jedi, not the Senate—because the Jedi have fought and died with them, while the Senate has never given a shit about them.

This is when Anakin stops being curious, and starts getting angry—because Padme and Palpatine are part of the Senate, and he views this as disrespectful to them.

He and Rex argue until Rex realizes that Anakin will always put his pride, put his attachments, over them—that he'd personally wipe out half the battalion if it meant Padme wouldn't get hurt, no matter that they were people too.

So Rex stops arguing.

He doesn't take off the paint, though.

But word passes through the battalion what Anakin thinks about all of this, and no one else wants to chance it.

So technically Anakin doesn't force them not to do it, but he definitely makes it clear what he thinks—and no one wants to piss off the guy with severe anger issues who's in charge of your every move in a dangerous situation.

#star wars #sw prequels #the clone wars #ao3 fanfic #pro jedi #fanfic #captain rex #anti anakin skywalker

[shouldershimmycity]

Pour Some Sugar on Me (Rooster x Reader)

“How would you feel about a reserved all business pilot reader in TOP GUN with Rooster but he picks at her saying she doesn’t let loose and have fun so she shows up at his house to strip tease out of her flight suit to pour some sugar on me by Def Leppard don’t ask me where that came from I was listening to that song and that popped in my head 😂”

“Oh my god AHAHAHA, can I make it so that they're all at the bar when she does? I feel like that would be mad funny. Also I love that song, I call it my unofficial official stripper song so like I'm totally down.”

Requested by @kp9983

I tried so hard hahaha, I loved this idea so much. I have zero shame and zero regrets.

*****

“YOU SHAKE MY NERVES AND YOU RATTLE MY BRAIN– TOO MUCH LOVE DRIVES A MAN INSANE– YOU BROKE MY WILL– BUT WHAT A THRILL– GOODNESS, GRACIOUS, GREAT BALLS OF FIRE!”

The bar was full of voices as Rooster, as per usual, was leading everyone and playing the Bradsahw’s signature song on the piano. Everyone was crowded around him, belting the words, but not you. There was no doubt that your head was bobbing along, your booty wiggling on the barstool, but you were planning practice mission strategies on a napkin.

You were a woman who needed to get stuff done when it was assigned to her, it was just in your nature. You needed answers to bigger questions and you needed them ASAP, no time to waste. That being said, when you weren’t busy, you were the life of the party. Many members of your previous squadron could testify to that. But being that you were almost always busy, it was hard for some people to see that side of you.

Looking up, you focused on a certain mustache making its way over to you. And some people just wouldn’t let it go. 

The truth is, you liked Rooster a lot, like… like liked him. He was tall, handsome, funny, muscular, what else would anyone want? Sadly, you were a little out of the loop with him because you were cripplingly shy, and only around him. Resisting the urge to shrink into the barstool, you remained cool when you felt him walk up behind you.

“What? No singing, Breezy?” Rooster asked in mock surprise.

“Not tonight, I’m working out these strategies for the mission practice,” you mumbled to yourself. Little teeth marks covered the pencap where you had been gnawing on it, deep in thought. 

“Why am I not surprised? Don’t you ever stop working?” Rooster criticized. 

“Mmmmm..no,” you answered, only half listening. Then the pen was lifted out of your hands, and you looked over at the pilot next to you in annoyance.

“I think I know what your problem is now,” he mused, lowering his voice for only you to hear, “you don't know how to have fun.” He wore a smug smirk as he flicked the pen between his fingers, raising an eyebrow at you. He was teasing you, but you knew how to poke back. 

“Ha! Yeah, Rooster,” you snorted, “I don't know how to have fun.” You mocked him in a dopey tone. 

“Who says you don’t know how to have fun?” Phoenix asked, sitting down in the empty seat next to you. 

“Rooster,” you answered, glaring at him. This only added to his shit eating grin. Phoenix’s eyes widened, and you were worried they might just pop out of her head.

“What?! You are so fun! How can you say that, Rooster?” Trace asked, astonished at his accusation. He laughed sarcastically, gesturing to you in general.

“Because, Phoenix, look at her! She’s sitting at a bar, doodling flight plans. She didn’t even change out of her flight suit for fucks sake!” Rooster pointed out everything he saw wrong with you at that moment, and it kinda hurt, “I’ll believe it when I see it, Trace.”

Something inside you was so crushed and irked at the fact that he believed you were a boring, uptight person. On the one hand, you wanted to leave him be because you didn’t need to prove anything to Rooster.

On the other hand you wanted to make him eat his words, shit eating grin and all. He dropped your pen and strolled away, and you turned to Penny, who was giving out drinks to customers left and right.

“Penny, my dear?” you asked sweetly as soon as you were sure Rooster couldn’t hear.

“Yes Breezy? What can I do for you?” she smiled politely.

“Can I do something stupid on your bar top to make a man eat his words?” you asked, your own shit eating grin filling your face.

Penny raised an eyebrow, as did Phoenix, but you just winked at them. 

“Go for it,” Penny shrugged, curiosity giving in over every other urge to say no. Might bring more customers, who knows. 

“I’ll need one shot first, if you don’t mind,” you requested, putting a one hundred dollar bill on her bar, “I’m sure there’s a bet going on behind my back that I’m about to win, so keep the change.” 

Penny poured you a shot, which you took casually. You sauntered over to the jukebox and plugged it back in. The music came on through the speakers and you chose the perfect song, a smirk on your face as you glanced over at Rooster, who was sniggering about something or other. Probably your lack of personality.

You were shy when it came to Rooster, but you would be damned if you let someone call you boring. He was like a boy who teased someone because he had a crush on them, but you were a grown woman. Thanking your past self for wearing something nice under your flight suit today, you set the song into the queue and walked away. 

Suck on this, Birdboy. 

*****

Rooster, Hangman, Coyote, Fanboy, and Payback were all chatting about dumb shit they did in flight school while sweet Bob sat in the corner. I Love Rock ‘N Roll by Joan Jett and the Blackhearts ended from the jukebox, and that's when your song started up. Pour Some Sugar on Me by Def Leppard.

Step inside, Walk this way, 

You and me babe, Hey hey!

Coyote started coughing, choking on his drink. Bob’s eyes widened, and Hangman practically shouted.

“What the fuck…” Hangman trailed off, surprised but evident delight filling his expression.

Rooster raised an eyebrow and turned to face the bar where they were all looking. You stood on top of the bar, looking Rooster dead in the eyes, hips swaying slightly to the music as the song started up. 

Love is like a bomb, baby, c'mon get it on, 

Livin' like a lover with a radar phone–

You strutted down the counter like it was a runway, earning some cheers and whistles. The hair tie that had kept your hair all neat was now removed, and you shook your waves out, hair now framing your face. 

Lookin' like a tramp, like a video vamp, 

Demolition woman, can I be your man?

Looking around the place, you saw other pilots, just as delighted as Hangman to witness what was going on on Penny’s bar top. That was the only confidence boost you needed.

Razzle 'n' a dazzle 'n' a flash a little light

Television lover, baby, go all night

Your fingers pulled the zipper of your flight suit down to your navel and you pulled the top of it off your shoulders, seductively showing off the white button up t-shirt you had on underneath.

You knew there wasn’t a man or woman in the room who didn’t have their eyes on your breasts, which were pushed up by the nicest lacey black bra you had, and on show from the lack of done up buttons. 

Sometime, anytime, sugar me sweet

Little miss innocent sugar me, yeah, yeah

The sleeves of your flight suit dropped, freeing your arms. Your suit was now being worn like a pair of pants. Arms raised above your head, you started moving your hips back and forth in a more confident motion, your entire body swaying with the motion.

Now c'mon, take a bottle, shake it up

Break the bubble, break it up

Your eyes wandered over to Rooster, and you almost doubled over with laughter at his face. The man’s jaw was slack with shock, and he was sweating. Next to him, the boys were whooping, Hangman was whistling, and even Bob was clapping. 

Pour some sugar on me

Ooh, in the name of love

You would give Rooster something to look at, since he couldn't stop staring at your hips.

Pour some sugar on me

C'mon, fire me up

Pour your sugar on me

I can't get enough

You grabbed a pipe that was poking out from the ceiling, and hooked your thumb in your flight suit, pulling it down a little, now swinging your hips in circles. You were acutely aware that the hip of your matching panties were being flaunted, while you mouthed along to the words. You received a good number of whistles from the crowd for that one. 

I'm hot, sticky sweet

From my head to my feet, yeah

You ran your other hand down your body, your hand traveling over your hips. Whoops filled the bar from everyone but Rooster, who was too involved in thinking about scenarios in which his hands were there instead.

You ran the tip of your tongue against your front teeth, and you had no idea but that was the thing that drove Rooster wild all the time. He almost choked on his beer like Coyote did earlier.

Listen, red light, yellow light, green-a-light go

Crazy little woman in a one man show

Successfully having turned on every human being in the bar, and short circuiting Rooster, you had fun with it. A little air guitar here, a beer bottle microphone there, you were a performer in another life.

When the song ended, there wasn’t a person in the bar who didn’t cheer or whistle. You neglected any help off the counter, and slid off, black boots hitting the ground. You looked over at Penny, who was nodding in approval and Phoenix who looked like she was deceased from laughing. 

“What’s so funny?” you asked, your grin wider than ever now.

“This,” Trace said, flipping her phone to you. You took a good long look at the immortalized image of Rooster, frozen in shock and dare you say turned on. The laugh that left you was loud enough for the whole bar to hear. Phoenix flipped to a picture of you dancing on the bar and you could tell why he was making that face.

Your flight suit hung low on your hips, showing off your curves and just a little of the panties you had bravely flaunted. Your skin was slightly sweaty and dear god did that bra do wonders for your breasts. You were giving fuck me eyes, and damn if you could you would have fucked yourself. 

You looked over at the man in the picture, who was now drinking his beer quietly, still processing what he just witnessed and smirked in silent victory. Excusing yourself from Phoenix’s company, you strutted over to Rooster who almost fell over when he saw you. 

“A-Are you gonna… put that back on?” he said, his voice strained. You raised an eyebrow, you were absolutely flirting now. 

“Why Lieutenant? Does this bother you?” you put your hands on your hips, puffing out your chest ever so slightly. Rooster couldn’t help but look down, and did he just lick his lips? 

“Okay, okay, I get it now,” he said, drawing it out, unable to tear his eyes from your chest, “I’ll never call you boring again…”

He finally looked back up as you leaned in close to his ear, whispering only for him to hear.

“Do you, uh, think you’d need any more demonstration?” you asked him suggestively. After the show you just put on, there was no shyness left in you. You made those fuck me eyes again, and Rooster stared back at you.

The hand that was holding his beer bottle shifted nonchalantly to cover his crotch, obviously self conscious of, ahem, something.

I think it was safe to say that Rooster never found you boring again. 

*****

Thank you again, @kp9983 for the suggestion!

#rooster top gun #rooster x reader #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #bradley bradshaw x reader #top gun x reader #topgunmaverick #top gun

[goodgirlofglory]

Don’t worry! I didn’t shut down 😂 and thank you for the follow!!

As for the requests, I don’t want to be a bother, so ill try not to overload your asks. Do you also write stories that don’t have any smut? Because, as much as I love the game of hide the eggplant 🍆 😉 I sometimes really just craze a sweet soft story or something that’s angsty with a happy ending.

Like for example, it’s spring/summer early morning, and Bucky being a trained soldier wakes up with the sun. But his partner on the other hand…. Let’s just say she isn’t a morning person. However, today they wake together and lie in bed all soft and sweet and talk about anything, and maybe they both drift back to sleep… and uhh I just melt

Or… Bucky is new to the tower and does not get along with the newest younger avenger member that everyone loves. And they bicker back and forth, and she is so sassy and witty and one ups him every time. And In the end, they have a big argument and she asks why he hates her so much, when she didn’t even do anything. And Bucky basically confesses that he doesn’t hate her. He actually really likes her and is just scared Bec of what he used to do and who he used to be, and the fact that she’s so young and is the sunshine person of the group, and they talk and share the sweetest first kiss 🥹

OMG DID I SAY TOO MUCH LOL 🫢🫠🫠🫠🫠

I just really love Bucky Bec his story is so sad

Anyways, you’re amazing. I hope you have a good day/night 🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

Bestie!! I have something for you! 🌸💖🌸💖🌸

This is for your first prompt and honestly, idk how I feel about what I did with it🙈 Lmk what you think🫶

As for your second prompt, it made me look up a similar draft for a series I wrote long ago, and now I’m super inspired to continue writing on it!!!!😳🙌 A real enemies to lovers, can’t be in a room for two seconds without snapping at each other, but also desperately attracted to each other with Bucky still being very much traumatised and thinking himself completely unworthy of love and affection and reader wanting so much to get along with him and be his friend and potential bed mate iykwim type vibe!!

UUUUGH, like I said before, these prompts you give are so thought provoking and inspiring. I love them, thank you!!!😍

Hope you're having a splendid day/night, enjoy🫶🦋

Sleeping in / One-shot

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Word count: 3,5k

Warnings: fluffy fluff, some angst, a few references to smut

Summary: Bucky never considered sleeping in until you - soft, sweet, precious you - started sleeping in his bed.

Bucky’s eyes shot open at precisely 6 AM like they always did. It was a routine ingrained in his very bones at this point. Whether it came from his years as the Soldat, his military training before that or the hard days of his upbringing, for as long as he could remember, he’d always been wide awake and alert at precisely 6 AM. Nowadays he kept a strict morning routine consisting of a short and non-indulgent breakfast, a ten mile jog, short to the point cold shower and then a crossword puzzle before starting his day. It was like clockwork, and Bucky hadn’t really questioned it, nor had any incentive to change it. That was, until you - soft, sweet, precious you - started sleeping in Bucky’s bed. 

Bucky had been blessed with your intimate company for half a year now. He’d never been so nervous as that night he took you out to the beach to watch the stars after three months of dating, and asked you to go steady with him in the light of the bonfire. Nor had he ever felt such blissful, perfect relief and elation as when you’d thrown your arms around his neck and squealed in his ear. 

“Yes, yes, oh my god, of course I do, Bucky,” you’d exclaimed, damn near rupturing his ear drum. He’d only wrapped his own arms tighter around you and nuzzled into the hollow of your throat, grinning like a dolt against your skin before peppering it with kisses, working his way up to your lips, his heart soaring in his chest. You’d made love for the first time right there in the sand, his cock drawn out of his fly and your panties pulled to the side, clothes awkwardly askew and sand getting everywhere, but it had been absolutely perfect. 

From that point on, It didn’t take long for the two of you to become virtually inseparable, spending meals and nights and whatever spare time you had with each other. Bucky just couldn’t help it, he became completely and ardently addicted to you. Your scent, your warmth, your laughter, the color of your eyes and the way the corners crinkled when you smiled. The way your brows furrowed when you concentrated on something, how fiercely you defended anything you loved or felt empathy for, how sopping wet you got when he teased you just the tiniest bit. 

The two of you loved taking walks together on the grounds, both finding it relaxing and like a much needed detox at the end of a long day. On days off you took longer hikes together in landscapes near and far, sleeping out in the fresh air and making love on mossy forest grounds. 

You both had a special craving for physical connection (or as you liked to say, your “love languages were physical touch”), which in truth was a lucky blessing, for never had someone unlocked such need in Bucky. Need for your warmth, need for your touch, need to hold your hand or your waist or shoulder, or just feel the weight of your feet in his lap on movie nights with the rest of the team. It didn’t need to be sexual either (though it certainly often was, or turned to that) - it was just the knowledge of you being close that soothed whatever aches Bucky had inside, quelled and quieted some fidgety, restless part of him. 

Further, your company and your skin on his had done miracles for his sleepless night. You were like a soothing blanket and a sleeping pill, all in one. Whenever he laid down and pulled you close, felt your hands around his torso and your legs tangle with him, sleep found him easily, which was a feat he hadn’t found in years. You alternated between sleeping in your room or his, but you always slept together whenever you had the chance. In his quiet mind, Bucky liked it best when you slept in his bed. There was just something about seeing you in his room, in his sheets, relaxed and warm and soft with sleep, leaving behind faint traces of your scent on his pillow that Bucky would never admit openly to pressing his nose to and inhaling gratefully whenever you left for your own daily work.

 Inviting you in and seeing you so comfortable and at home in his private, intimate spaces had a newfound emotion spreading in his body. A sweet ache that wasn’t pain, nor sadness, or even longing. He’d scarcely dared put a name to the new feeling that bloomed like the tiniest, most fragile thing in his chest. The feeling was happiness, so foreign and unexpected Bucky had damn near had a panic attack that first time he caught himself gazing at you while you were deeply engrossed in your book next to him, and recognised the feeling for what it was. 

On this Sunday morning, when neither of you had any plans for the day, Bucky opened his eyes to find you snuggled up to him like a koala, legs and arms wrapped tightly around him as you slumbered on, and that same pang of sweet ache hit him as he looked down on you, saw you so relaxed and peaceful in his arms. By God, you were a deep sleeper, and you slept a lot, too. Bucky’d been baffled to observe how fucking much you slept if only given the chance. Proper sloth, he’d tried to tease you once, only for you to stretch with a lazy smile and nuzzle his chest. That had in turn only served to make Bucky’s heart melt right out of his ribcage. You were too cute, damnit, and far too powerful, and Bucky could only clutch you tighter to him. 

Bucky looked down at you, the soft rays of the warm spring sun coming in through the open curtains and casting your beautiful face in a golden sheen, taking his breath away as his gaze flitted about your face, without a single tension, mouth slightly open, quiet, steady puffs of air coming out and fanning across Bucky’s face. He put his nose gently to your throat and breathed you in, pulling in a grateful fill of your mouth watering scent, all warm and heady from your sleep.

He wondered what you were dreaming about, and how long you would sleep like this, undisturbed and unburdened, like you deserved. Did you even know how much of a miracle you’d been to him? How you single handedly fought off his nightmares? Kept him sleeping through the night, not awakening to sheets damp with sweat and an even more exhausted mind than the night before? He suspected you didn’t have a single clue. And maybe he was to blame for that. Cause even though his body had practically leapt at the chance of living in semi-permanent connection with yours no problem, he still had a little ways to go when it came to properly opening up emotionally. With words. God, he hated talking about his feelings, hated how vulnerable and easily wounded he felt, how much he fumbled for the right things to say and the guilt of taking comfort from others when he’d been the cause of so much horrid pain in the past. Whenever he felt the need to get things off his chest, those thoughts would hit him. It wasn’t right to demand people soothe and comfort him, he didn’t deserve it. He needed to own his actions, no matter if Hydra was og wasn’t here anymore. Especially because of that, actually. If he didn’t repent, how would he ever make up for all those people who’d suffered at his hands? 

So no, it was better to just work on it himself, to not burden anyone with it, and especially not a sweet, loving, caring ray of sunshine like you. You deserved so much better. 

Bucky stared at you while his thoughts whirled. He would let you sleep in, he decided, and after bending slightly forward to kiss one of your eyelids as softly as his body could possibly allow him, he started the meticulous procedure of removing his arm from under your neck and extracting himself from the secure cage you’d made around him with your limbs, so he could go start his morning routine. Just when he’d managed to untangle your legs and was about to slip his arm from under your head, your brows crinkled and the most adorable little sound of protest came from you. Sluggish and weakly, you reached for him, still mostly asleep, and tugged at his shoulder and arm to get him back to you. 

Bucky’s heart clenched again, and he huffed a laugh as he let himself be pulled back into your embrace, secretly relishing the feeling of you determinant pulling him close to you, of wanting him close to you. He couldn’t help it, those small reassurances meant so much to him. 

Your eyes opened to slits and looked up at him. 

“Mornin,” he mumbled, feeling himself light up with a sense of excitement at having you awake and with him.

You hummed long and slow, settling down with your head on his chest.

“Mornin, baby, what’s the time?” you asked, and your small, raspy voice was so fucking cute Bucky had a hard time dealing with it, actually.

He didn’t have to look at the clock on the nightstand. 

“Just past six,” he said, still gazing at your sleepy form. 

Your face scrunched up in what could only be described as disgust at his words. 

“What? Whyyyy, Bucky, it’s Sunday,” you whined, and Bucky couldn’t help his grin. 

“Can’t help the way I am,” he said as his only excuse, hoping you didn’t catch on to the way the words reflected his earlier thoughts. 

You stretched like a cat in his arms and snuggled closer to him, pressing a kiss to his throat. 

“I can help you. Settle down, we’re sleeping in today,” you said, eyes closing. It seemed you were halfway back to sleep already, though your grip around Bucky was uncompromising. 

“Is that an order?” Bucky murmured, so stupidly entertained by your every word he just kept grinning, the ache in his chest growing stronger.

“Yes it is, so you better obey me, soldier,” you mumbled. 

Bucky chuckled, watching you drift back off to sleep, but found he couldn’t quite get there himself. He found himself gazing out into the room, mind still going over his worries like a steadily churning maelstrom. Sleep didn’t come easy when he was stuck in a thinking loop like this. It didn’t help that his morning wood was as incessant as always, and you snuggling your warm, soft body up against it only made it worse. That wasn’t that much of an issue, though. He actually, secretly kinda loved just laying like this, feeling how you aroused him and knowing you reciprocated. 

To Bucky’s surprise, he looked back down to find you watching him, having cracked one eye open. He almost started. 

“What’s the matter?” you asked, sounding vaguely concerned. 

Bucky schooled his expression and shook his head. 

“Nothing, sweetheart, go back to sleep,” he said, kissing your forehead and then kissing it again when you hummed contentedly at the gesture. 

Your hand came up and started gently playing with the hair on his chest, something you often did when you were thinking and wondering how to say something. A contemplative gesture Bucky didn’t think you were all that aware of. Not that he’d ever made you aware of it. He liked being able to read your behavioral patterns. Liked it when you were open and honest and comfortable showing him your authentic self. He wouldn’t dream of taking that away and making you self conscious. 

“You sure? You look like you're thinking very hard and not talking about it,” you said and Bucky blanched. Had he been that obvious? Maybe he had some revealing behaviors he wasn’t aware of too. For some reason, it warmed his heart to know you could read him as well as he could read you. That you paid attention. That you cared as much as you did. He took your hand in his and played with your fingers, loved the way his hand engulfed yours, seeing how elegant your bones were while knowing the strength you could pack in a punch. 

He turned your hand over and though he’d only meant to buy himself some time with his exploration, he noticed for the first time a scar on the tip of your ring finger. He brought your finger closer to his eyes and yes indeed, in the shape of a question mark without the dot, the pad of your fingertip was sliced in two by a fine, pale scar line. He ran his thumb over it, suddenly engrossed in this detail he’d missed until now. 

“Where’d you get this?” he asked, curiosity making him giddy while deep down, a furious anger stirred; Anger that promised death and despair upon those who dared hurt you. 

You giggled as he brushed his thumb over it again, squirming slightly in his arms, and Bucky got even more curious. 

“It tickles. And it’s nothing exciting, just a small accident from when I was a kid,” you said, squealing lightly when Bucky brushed his thumb even more gently over the scarred skin, watching you avidly. 

“Tell me,” he said, giving your fingertip peace, but not letting you pull your hand away. 

You gave him a stern look, though you couldn’t hide the smile tugging on your lips.

“Fine, I’ll let you distract me for now, but I want to know what had you looking so forlorn earlier,” you said, the most adorable flush creeping up on your cheekbones as Bucky slowly pulled your hand up to his mouth and kissed each fingertip, noticing with glee how your pupils dilated as you watched his lips caress your skin. 

“Forlorn?” Bucky repeated, settling down even further into the soft mattress and the soft, silky sheets he’d gone out and gotten that first week you started sharing his bed, “I like when you go Shakespeare,” he teased, grinning when you smacked his chest in petulant offense. Bucky pulled you even closer to him and rolled you over so you lay across his chest as he settled on his back. “No, c’mon, tell me,” he insisted. 

You lay there together as the sun rose higher, Bucky listening intently as you told him about the accident that had split your finger tip as a seven year old, and then the stitches you’d have to get sewn while in the ER. Bucky couldn’t help pulling you closer and kissing all over your face when you talked about the praise you’d gotten from the nurses for being so brave. 

“That’s my girl,” he murmured onto the skin below your ear and relished the way you shivered. You gave him that look you got when you were delightfully preening under his praise while at the same time getting just a little bit shy - that look that made Bucky go half-mad with desire. 

“Tell me about this one?” you asked, pointing to a scar that ran along his lower abdomen, a  line that zig zagged diagonally up to his waist. It was one of his more gnarly scars. Thick, ragged and ugly, with darker, blotchy scar tissue, indicating a more serious injury. Not that Bucky knew. 

“Don’t know, I don’t remember how I got them,” he said, finding the words a bit more difficult to get past his throat as he focused on the scar, and the lack of memories accompanying it. 

You looked up at him in surprise. 

“Any of them?” you asked. 

Bucky gave a noncommittal shrug, fighting off his self-consciousness. He didn’t want to get defensive around you, knew he didn’t have to. Hell, you were the one person he knew by now he could be open and honest with. But the lack of knowing was still a sore spot for him.

“I know where the arm went, Steve told me, but the rest is, um…well, mysteries,” he said. 

You blinked, looking a little like a wounded puppy as your fingers traced another scar. You were so empathic, always caring so deeply for others. It was something Bucky admired about you, along with how open you were yourself about your feelings and stuff like that. Bucky drew a steadying breath, gathering his courage. 

“I’m glad I have them,” he said, catching your attention again. Your brow crinkled for the tiniest moment. 

“Why for?” you asked softly, a small, perfect encouragement for him to elaborate. 

Here we go, Bucky thought, a shrill nervousness suddenly swelling inside him.

“I wouldn’t be here today if I didn’t have them,” Bucky said, swallowing thickly. His courage faltered slightly and he averted his eyes, but he forced himself to continue speaking, “They’re a part of the life that led me to this, to…you. I wouldn’t be here with you right now if I didn’t also go through whatever gave me all these scars…and for that, I’m happy,” he said, drawing a mortified breath as he stopped speaking, his heart suddenly pounding in his chest. 

The silence felt like an eternity, and Bucky steeled himself for whatever reaction you might come with. Was it too much? Too weird? Too morbid? 

Your hands cupped his face and brought his eyes up to yours. They were shining with emotion, with empathy so deep he almost winced at the raw intensity. 

“You’re so strong, Bucky. A strong and good man, and so fucking sweet. You didn’t deserve any of your scars, or any of the pain you went through to get here. And I know you feel guilty, and I know there is little I can do to make it alright, but I…,” you trailed off for a beat and to his astonishment, Bucky swore he heard the words love you hang in the air between the two of you. Your heart, which Bucky could feel between your two bodies pressed together, shot up to an alarming speed, and a crimson flush stole across your face. 

You must have seen him catch on, for you lowered your gaze and laughed a bit self deprecatingly. No, no, no, don’t hide, please say them, Bucky thought desperately, his own heart picking up speed, thudding hard in his chest. God, could it be true?

“Is it selfish to say I’m happy you’re here with me too, even though you had to go through so many unfair, horrible things to get here?” you asked, and Bucky wondered if you were feeling guilty too at that moment. 

He hugged you tighter to him, lowering his head to catch your down-cast eyes. 

“I want you to. Be selfish, I mean, ehm, with me,” he said in a surge of bravery that had him fumbling his words all the same. “I mean I like it when you are - I mean, oh God, I -”

“I get what you mean,” you said softly and assuringly, biting your lip and smiling so sweetly Bucky’s heart lurched. 

He bent forward and caught your lips, so fucking grateful for you, for caring, understanding and supporting you. Maybe he didn’t need to hear you say you loved him yet. His heart was soaring in his chest just by the implication, just by having you here in his arms. He could be gracious and continue working to deserve your love in the future, and be completely ready to receive it. 

You broke the kiss and settled down on his chest again, and his hand found your hair, playing with it. 

“I need a haircut,” you said after a few moments, voice just the tiniest bit tense for it to be a nonchalant remark. Who needs a distraction now?, Bucky thought a bit smugly, listening with his enhanced hearing that your heart was still thudding just a little faster than usual. He could be gracious, though it was a near thing. 

“I like your hair like this,” he said, kissing the top of your head, satisfaction surging warm and proud when you tried to snuggle even closer to him, tangling your legs even more with his.

“Oh lord, no it’s all frizzy. I once had a hairdresser -”

You spent some time talking about nothing and everything, the languid morning settling heavy in your bones. Bucky felt like he was floating, like time slowed and you were hiding away together on a cloud of affection and drowsy, peaceful contentment. 

Nestled together in the privacy of his room, Bucky’s thoughts went to the future for once, and not the past. They went to the hope that you would tell him you loved him one day. That he would be ready to receive that love then, and be truly deserving of it. As of now, maybe he could get used to sleeping in, Bucky thought as he listened to you murmuring about a dream you’d had. 

And after a while, when your eyelids had closed entirely and your breath evened out, Bucky drifted back off to sleep with you, still entangled in the soft sheets illuminated by the warm, spring sun. 

#bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fic #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x fluff #the good girl replies #aloudplace

[takenbypeter]

Hi! Could you write a Hank McCoy x Reader fic with one of these dialogue prompts? (Whatever you feel like)

5. "God, you always make me blush so damn much." (Nicholas Hoult is always blushing so I thought it would be nice if Hank did as well)

23. "Wait...are you making pancakes? Can I help?" (He seems like the type of person who cooks)

25. "Have you been drinking enough water?" (He is a doctor)

I'm pretty sure I read every fic with him in this site and I want more.😂

Doctor’s Orders

Hank McCoy x reader

Number 25: “Have you been drinking enough water?”

(Reader is AFAB)

Hehe I couldn't decide so I did all of them, sorry it took so long, I went through like a no writing phase but I think I'm slowly returning

Sometimes you hated having a uterus. More specifically you hated it when it was that time of the month. How you hated even being born whenever that time hit and of course that was today. 

Instead of listening to your body and wallowing in pain as the cramps hit hard that morning, practically almost making you spit up your dinner from the night before, you put on your adult shoes and chose to be productive around the X-mansion as you usually did. 

Most days weren’t so bad, you’d help with the younger level kids here and there before you did some of your own training but today? Today they were rowdy for whatever reason, maybe the weather, all you knew was that you wanted this week to be done already. 

You tried your hardest to just be there, be present as you seemed to be running around all day at different peoples beck and call when all you really wanted to do was curl up and scream but of course that wasn’t like you. So you had to plaster a fake customer smile. But you could even barely do that anymore as halfway through the day you decided your body couldn’t take it anymore. So you went to the one place you knew no one would bother you. 

The labs. 

Most of the time it was just Hank in the labs and you of course didn’t want to bother him when he may be working but then again he was your boyfriend and you were in a lot of pain. So you went. 

You entered his labs slowly and peeking around the entrance, you saw that luckily he wasn’t dealing with any chemicals at the moment. 

“Thank god you’re working,” when he worked that meant everyone knew not to disturb him, well everyone but apparently you. 

His arms set down whatever thingamabob was in his hands, “please come in why don’t you?”

You did realize it was rude, “sorry,” you mumbled out as you backed up into the nearest corner and squatted down. With your knees to your stomach you instantly felt better even if only just a little. 

With your head tucked into your legs you could just feel the strange sight he most certainly had on you. “Don’t mind me…” you breathed as a big cramp just made its way, “just go about your way, I promise I’ll be quiet.”

“If you think I’m going to be able to focus while you’re scrunched up in the corner like that you’re absolutely crazy.”

“I’m fine,” you said, your voice muffled.

You didn’t see it but you could tell Hank was staring at you. But he was staring at you not with disbelief more with worry. 

“What is it?” He asked. 

“Nothing just got my period this morning, I’ll be fine.” Typically this only happened to you on maybe the first two days and usually you just toughed it out.

Suddenly an overwhelming cramp could be felt in your lower stomach area, you groaned as you leaned forward, your knees now against the floor with your forehead touching the floor “…just give me a moment,” you said, refusing to move from that spot with your arms clutching your body. 

“Have you been drinking enough water?”

Ugh. That question wouldn’t have annoyed you if the answer was yes. But it’s not your fault everyone seemed to need your help left and right. 

“Maybe half a bottle so far,” you said. 

His mouth drops, “that’s not nearly enough.”

“Yeah yeah, thank you doctor,” you cut off, still hurting.  

You don’t pay mind to the noise you hear shuffling before you see a bottle being held out towards you. 

You reach out, taking it with a thanks. “Wait here,” he commands before he turns around. Not like I have much choice, you thought as you closed your eyes again feeling a little bit better as the cramps randomly subside for a moment. 

Pretty soon you hear Hank’s footsteps come back and you begin to hear shuffling beside you. Curious, you open your eyes and watch as he sets down a blanket beside you. Then a makeshift pillow made out of a jacket. 

He didn’t even have to say anything and you moved there willingly. You didn’t care that the floor was hard underneath, you were just glad to lie down somewhere. 

While you lay there on your side feeling like garbage he hands you a warm heating pad which you gladly take and he moves the water bottle closer to you before he takes another blanket and covers you with it. 

“Drink your water and let your body take a break,” he adds. 

Once he makes sure you’re all settled his eyes catch yours as you lay with a smile on your face. 

“What?”

“You love me,” you sing-song almost like a kid would. 

Although a grin starts to tug at one of the corners of his lips he reaches out dragging his hand down your face closing your eyes in the process as you would a departed person. 

“Get some rest.”

Your eyes open again as you watch him leave your side to return back to his work. ‘He loves me,’ you teased once again in thought as you snuggled with the blanket and heating pad.

~

Dialogue Prompt #2

#hank mccoy x reader #hank mccoy fanfic #hank mccoy fanfiction #hank mccoy imagine #xmen x reader #x men x reader #xmen fanfiction #xmen fanfic #x men fanfiction #x men fanfic #xmen imagine #x men imagine #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagine #marvel x reader #dialogue prompt 2