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togenabi · 7 months

Text

pick me up

roronoa zoro (opla) x reader

♡—zoro never paid your jokes or pickup lines any mind. that is, until something happens that makes you stop.

word count♡— 3.2k

genre♡— mild angst, fluff, straw hat!reader

content notes♡— opla zoro, fem!reader, reader wears a dress and tells very bad jokes, creepy dude oc, don't be creepy be cool yall, reader pulls off a heist with nami, zoro gets jealous, alcohol consumption, no use of y/n, barely proofread

also on♡— ao3

author's note♡— this is a request from anon! I'm sorry if I tweaked a few things, I'm not the best at angst hhhh I hope you still like it!

“Okay, okay. Wait. I got it this time.” You say, already trying to keep from laughing.

“Why were the kids having trouble in pirate class?”

Zoro only side-eyes you with his arms crossed, vehemently unimpressed.

“Because they were overbored!”

Watching for his reaction intently, you keep your eyes focused on his face... Nothing changes.

You tsk, but aren’t seriously discouraged. This is how he always reacts to your jokes, after all. “I’ll get you one of these days, Roronoa Zoro.”

The swordsman only sighs, leaning back into his seat to take a nap. “You do that.”

“Don’t listen to him, love.” Sanji says from the other side of the kitchen as he cleans the counter. “I thought that joke was good.”

“You’re lying, but I appreciate the sentiment, Sanji.” You grin at him. Focusing back on the book you were reading, you miss the amused, challenging look Sanji sends Zoro.

Everyone hears Luffy approaching the kitchen before he enters. “Guys!” He bellows. “We’ll be reaching land soon. Be ready to leave in fifteen minutes!”

The majority of the day is spent restocking supplies. You were all split up into pairs, but before you left, Luffy pointed to a restaurant with a flashy, illuminated sign on top that reads: ‘Bistro of Light’. How cringey of them.

“We should meet there for dinner! You don’t mind taking a break, right, Sanji?” Luffy asks eagerly, and you think that no one could say no to him when he’s so enthusiastic. Sanji nods, and you all go through the town until the sun starts to set.

The inside of the restaurant is just as ridiculous as the sign outside. Chandeliers of every color hang on the ceiling. Huge fish tanks and fountains lined with lights almost blind you. You laugh when looking at it all causes Zoro to wince.

“Hey Zoro,” You call for him. “You know what’s faster than the speed of light?”

“...”

“My heartbeat when I think of you!” You wink at him, proud of the joke even when he only sighs and looks away.

Usopp walks up to a receptionist standing behind a desk. “Hey. Table for six, if you would be so kind.”

“I’m afraid we’re at full capacity at the moment.” They respond. “You’ll have to wait, is that alright?”

Everyone shares a look. Except for Luffy, who looks dead set on eating here, you all feel unsure about waiting.

“When’s the next table going to be available?” Usopp asks. “We’re actually a really big deal. It’s gonna be really embarrassing for you guys if you don’t let us in.” The person frowns, face screaming, ‘is this guy serious’?

But before they can reply, a booming voice enters the restaurant. A tall man, dressed in a pristine white suit and wearing jewels on every finger, pushes you out of the way to yell at the receptionist. You stumble, but thankfully Zoro is there to catch you.

“What on earth is going on here?! Why are there so many people crowding the entryway?!” He fumes, angrily gesturing to your group.

“If they’re not going to eat, then I strongly suggest—” The rich man freezes suddenly, his eyes trained on you.

You keep your face as emotionless as possible, but you die laughing inside when Nami swipes a brooch from his jacket while he’s distracted with you.

“Ah,” The man says. His tone softening a considerable amount as he walks over to you. “I thought I had the best jewels in my treasury, but you're the most radiant gem I've ever laid my eyes on.” It takes everything in you to not back away. Zoro tenses beside you.

“Why haven’t these guests been guided to a table?” He asks, turning back to the receptionist.

“We’re at full capacity, Sir.” Oh. He must own the place. It makes sense that the owner is as gaudy as everything else in here.

“That won’t do.” He looks back to you, and you swear you could feel your skin crawl under his gaze.

“I am Helios. Welcome to my establishment.” The man introduces himself with a flourish, bowing to you. His jewels and gold accessories glint in the light. “What might your name be?”

Reluctantly, you introduce yourself. Had this been a normal situation, you would have turned around and walked away from him the second he saw you. But, you could feel the crew going hungry, and you’re sure Nami will want to snag another ring or two—so you play nice.

Helios smiles, repeating your name. He was probably trying to sound romantic, but he’s not doing anything for you. Not when Zoro says your name much better.

You keep Zoro’s voice in mind, remembering how nice it sounds. It’s easier to smile at Helios that way. Time to lay on the charm, “I was really looking forward to having dinner here. I don’t suppose you could help us out?”

“Follow me, my dear. You deserve to dine upstairs. The view is simply spectacular at this hour.” Helios holds out his hand to you, but Luffy—bless his soul—grabs it to shake it zealously.

“Thanks so much for letting us eat here, Mr. Helios!” Luffy claps him on the back. Helios looks dumbfounded, and the crew does an impressive job keeping their composure.

Helios tries to walk beside you as he guides you all upstairs, but Zoro is steadfast on your right, and Nami smartly positions herself on your left. Luffy and Usopp tug the restaurant owner along, chatting his ear off. You almost feel bad for him.

Nami murmurs, her voice carefully silent so only you can hear. “Treasury, huh?”

You smile. “Of course you’d be curious about that.”

“Think you could get us to his mansion?” She dares you, eyes aglow at the promise of a good heist.

“I know I can.” You pause walking to check your reflection on an ornate, sun-shaped mirror. After fixing your hair, you grin at your friends. “I’m irresistible, after all.”

Maybe if you weren’t busy buttering up your host, you would have noticed that Zoro wasn’t eating properly. Normally, you would force him to eat. You would pile food on his plate, telling that joke about fake noodles being impasta that always cracks you up.

Zoro frowns at the meal in front of him. The fish seems to frown back. Sighing, he decides to just order another drink. But no matter what he consumes, a bitter taste always blooms in his mouth afterwards.

The glass in his hand almost cracks when he hears your voice sucking up to Helios again. “So, you own this place? Do you live around here?”

Helios leans far too close towards you, but you grin and bear it. “Would you like a private tour, my gem?”

You place a hand on his arm, he may read it as affection, but you hold him so he keeps that distance. “That sounds wonderful.”

Zoro huffs under his breath. He needs another drink.

Thankfully, Helios serves good booze at his manor. Zoro almost didn’t want to drink any of it, but he needs alcohol in his system if he has to watch you flirt with this idiot so Nami can rob him blind. Whatever she steals better be worth all this, or else he might punch something. Or someone. Preferably Helios.

You share a look with Nami and give her an imperceptible nod. With that signal, she passes by and pretends to lose her footing. Wine seeps into your clothes, staining the fabric and sticking it to your skin. Did she really have to pick red wine? You liked this shirt.

“Oh, my dear!” Helios gasps. “You should get cleaned up. I’ll have my servants draw you a bath and bring you fresh clothes.”

“I’m so sorry, I should’ve watched where I was going.” Nami loops her arm through yours. “Let me help you with that.”

And so, with another fake smile sent Helios’ way, you rush with Nami to find the treasury.

“Be quick.” Nami says once you enter the luxurious bathroom prepared for you.

As tempting as the bubble bath is, you only take a few wet towels to tidy up. You step into the curtained area, about to strip when Nami holds out a hand to stop you.

“Wait.” She says, her tone serious. A teddy bear holding a rose is propped up on a shelf behind you. Tapping its eyes, Nami scowls before throwing the bear into the trash bin.

“A camera?” She nods. “Seriously? What a creep.”

You and Nami inspect the room. It’s not clear if there are other hidden cameras, but she stands guard in front of the shower curtains just in case.

“Hey,” She starts. “Did you notice Zoro acting weird tonight?”

You frown as you change into the dress Helios prepared. “What do you mean?”

Nami hums in thought. “He’s just…” A dumbass, she wants to say, but doesn’t. “He seems extra grumpy.”

That causes you to laugh. “I guess I should prepare more jokes for him when we get back.”

She winces. “...I’m not that sure he likes those.”

“Hm… Maybe not, but,” You pause to think. He may not laugh loudly as Luffy does, but he never shot you down for being bubbly around him. “Zoro would have told me to shut up by now if he didn’t, right?”

“Huh.” Nami says. “You got a point.”

You push the curtains aside, grinning at her. “Come on, let’s break into that treasury.”

“Of course, my gem.”

“Oh my god, if that sticks I’m going to be so mad.”

The treasury was a vault full of everything from jewels to ornamental weapons. Nami playfully crowned you with a diamond tiara, and she put on dangling emerald earrings that looked stunning on her.

After filling your bags and pockets with the most you can carry, you and Nami head out to find the others. You run into Usopp on the way back to the lounge.

“I see you two cleaned up well.” He jokes. “Luffy and Sanji are in the kitchen. I was just on my way there.”

“Where’s Zoro?” You ask.

“With Helios. You know him, still drinking.”

“We should leave soon.” Nami insists. “We risk getting caught the longer we stay.”

“Right.” You hand Usopp your bag, his eyes widen comically when he feels how heavy it is. “I’ll just go say goodbye, I’ll catch up with you guys later.”

Before you even enter the lounge, however, you hear Zoro speak your name. Are they talking about you? You press your back against the wall, straining to hear their conversation.

You almost wish you didn’t.

“She tells the worst jokes and doesn’t know when to quit it. Thinks she’s hilarious but she’s really not.” Zoro speaks in that deep voice that would usually be comforting to you—but his words now pierce through you painfully.

“What exactly is your relationship with her?” Helios asks, and Zoro is silent. It feels like your heart crumbles for every second he doesn’t answer.

You’re friends! You’ve been dreaming of more but, you’ve always been friends.

…Aren’t you? Doesn’t he think so?

“I don’t know.” Your heart fully shatters. What does he mean he doesn’t know? “She just sticks to me a lot. It can get annoying.”

“Well. That’s unfortunate, but it’s nothing to sob over.” Helios kisses his teeth. “I don’t care about her attitude. All that doesn’t matter as long as she has that pretty face.”

You wait for Zoro to say something. Anything. You want him to cut Helios where he stands.

But he doesn’t. The silence drags on. The air feels like it’s pushing you down, crushing your lungs. You have to get out of here.

You burst into the kitchen, trying your best not to cry. Nami immediately rushes to you, holding your shoulders to steady you. “What happened?”

Letting out a shuddered breath, you whisper, “You were right.” It’s impossible to think straight right now. “I want to leave.”

You look to Luffy, still shaken up. Your captain’s expression is serious as he nods. “Go ahead, we’ll get Zoro and catch up.” Not needing to be told twice, you head out the door.

Before she follows you, Nami hisses at Sanji, “Talk some sense into that dumbass, won’t you?”

The entire walk back to the Going Merry is silent. You’re grateful Nami doesn’t immediately press you for what happened, but you know that you should answer her questions. You finally get the words out in the safety of her cabin.

You sit cross-legged on the bed, and everything comes pouring out. “He called me annoying.”

“Zoro?” She asked, offering you a box of tissues.

“Yeah.” You sniff, taking the box.

“I’m sorry. That was fucked up of him to say.”

Unsure how to properly comfort you, Nami gets up and retrieves extra pillows from a storage compartment.

“Why don’t we have a girl’s night?” Nami asks, offering you a smile. It pulls a smile out of you too, the first one you mustered since Zoro crushed your spirit.

“I’d like that.”

Zoro is confused to find that you and Nami had left before them. Luffy gave Helios some lame excuse that you weren’t feeling well, but Zoro knew better. If you were really sick, the whole crew would be panicking and rushing to get to you.

He stares at Sanji and Usopp, trying to piece together what really happened. They both turn away from him, refusing to say anything.

In the next second, a maid rushes out, panting and screaming, “Mr. Helios! The treasury has been robbed!”

Fine. Answers can come later. For now, they need to run.

Once they’re back on the ship, Sanji follows Zoro into his cabin. He stares at the chef blankly, “Get out.”

“Did you do something?” Sanji leans against the doorframe, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Get out.” Zoro repeats, about to push him out of the room when Sanji speaks your name.

“She was upset. Asked to leave as soon as possible.” Sanji’s gaze is almost menacing, and his frown deepens when Zoro’s face falls. So, that’s what happened. You had heard him.

“Fuck.” Zoro groans, running a hand through his hair in frustration.

“Everyone noticed you getting bitchy over Helios.” Sanji notes “Did you confront him or something?”

Scoffing, Zoro sits on his hammock, the fabric dips under his weight. “It was something, all right.”

Wanting Zoro to explain himself unpromptedly, Sanji just watches him and lets the silence hang in the air. After a solid, suffocating minute, the swordsman caves.

“I called her annoying.” Zoro breathes out deeply. “I said her jokes aren’t funny and that she sticks to me a lot.”

“Man, that’s screwed up.” Sanji gapes. “I thought you cared about her?”

“Of course I do, but I didn’t say anything that wasn’t true.” Zoro defends. “Luffy’s the only one who laughs at her jokes, and she’s always by my side.”

Sighing, Zoro continues, “...but I never minded any of it. I learned to care for those parts of her a long time ago. I was only trying to get that shithead off her back.”

“You’re an idiot.” Sanji concludes. “You have the emotional depth of a sink, sometimes.”

Zoro, surprisingly, doesn’t insult the chef back. He stares at the wall, slouched and looking the most empty Sanji’s ever seen him.

“What should I do?” He asks. “How should I make it up to her?”

Sanji’s eyes light up, he beams and claps his hands together in excitement. Even if Zoro hasn’t heard it yet, he already dreads the chef’s suggestion.

“I have an idea.”

When you woke up the next morning, you had every intention of avoiding Zoro like the plague. It was still really difficult to look at him, the hurt you felt still stings your heart.

But unfortunately for you, he had other plans.

You’re gazing out into the sea on the forecastle deck when you hear a familiar set of heavy footsteps. You sigh. “I don’t want to talk, Zoro.”

“I’m not here to talk.” You turn to him questioningly, but you really shouldn’t give him the time of day. Wasn’t he the one who complained about you clinging to him?

You don’t say anything. Only glaring at him and hoping he sees how disappointed you feel. Zoro stands here, appearing strangely vulnerable. If you weren’t so hurt, you would have hugged him by now.

But you are. So he has to wallow in the awkwardness of the consequences of his words. He—wait. What’s that on his face?

“I…” Is he… blushing? “I’m sorry I wasn’t around in the past.”

You make a face and blink at him. What is he up to?

“...Can I be part of your future?”

That knocks the wind right out of you, your jaw practically falls to the floor. Did Roronoa Zoro just use a pickup line? On you? You can’t help but glance at your surroundings to check if the sky is still blue.

No—hold on. He can’t win you over just like that. He needs to explain why he said what he did.

“You said my jokes are the worst.” You grumble.

“They are.” Zoro looks straight into your eyes as he speaks. “But you’re one of the best things to ever happen to me.”

“You said I always stick to your side.”

He doesn’t miss a beat and answers earnestly, “You do. And I wouldn’t want you to be anywhere else.”

“…You said you didn’t know what our relationship is.”

That causes Zoro to pause, searching your eyes as if he’ll find the answer in them. “…I don’t.”

Oh, this impossible sword-brain of a man. Your lips quiver, and you realize you can’t fight back your smile anymore. “I love you, Zoro.”

His expression shifts from anxiousness to shock, relief, and a bit of something else...

“I love you, too.” Ah, of course. Love, that too.

Slowly, tentatively, he raises his arms, inviting you to an embrace. He’s adorable, looking a teensy bit nervous that you wouldn’t want to hold him. Giggling, you rush to him, wrapping your arms around his waist as he envelops your shoulders.

“I bet Sanji taught you to apologize with that line.” You murmur into his chest. “If you tell me another one…” Zoro cringes, his frame tensing.

“...I’ll give you a kiss.” His expression lifts, seriously considering it.

After a minute, Zoro clears his throat. You almost squeal in excitement.

“Roses are red, violets are blue…” A classic. This is going to be good.

“I’m sorry if I made you feel awkward, I just want to have dinner with you.” You gasp, squeezing him tighter.

“Yes! That was perfect.” Laughing, you reach up and hold his face to keep your promise.

You plant a sweet, short kiss on his lips. When you pull away, he’s looking at you like he would fight anyone for you. He probably would, if you’re being honest.

“You’re perfect.” He breathes, mouth against yours and then he’s kissing you again.

Hiding behind a pile of crates, the rest of the crew whoop and cheer. (Silently.)

“That was such a good line!” Luffy whispers.

“I still think he should have used the ‘I don’t speak angel’ one.” Usopp whispers back.

“What are you talking about?!” Sanji angrily, quietly mutters. “That was perfect because he apologized and delivered the line.”

“Shut it, you guys. I was right, he didn’t last a day with her mad at him.” Nami holds out her palm. “Pay up.” The others groan, handing her some berry. All’s well that ends well.

taglist: @songsofadelaide-archive @amitydoodlez @sweetexistentialism @msmisasoup @writingmysanity @hotchocolattee @dimplewonie @hearts4zoro @kenkenmaaa @appalost @hi3431 @akakaze @lownna

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dxstopiaa · 10 months

Note

hello! >u< how are you? if it's okay, may i request the sumeru men with a s/o who loooooves sitting on their lap? i hope you have a great day/night!

characters: alhaitham, kaveh, cyno, tighnari and dottore x gn! reader

warnings: sfw! may be suggestive! otherwise fluff [hii anon! i hope you are doing well too! i tried to post something even though it’s been a month, i’m so sorry <3]

alhaitham

“Haitham, can i sit on your lap again?”

“…You may.” The Acting Grand Sage looked down at you, who had unknowingly sat on the desk infront, eyes gleaming so enthusiastically it’d be a shame to deny you of what you so kindly requested.

If anyone didn’t know the scribe as personally as you did, they’d say he was a cold-hearted man with a thirst only knowledge could quench— that he was incapable of demonstrating love. He’d overheard such earlier, watching the two students indulging in some pointless (and incorrect, mind you) gossip.

He wasn’t one to care of other’s perception of him, but with you in his life and his lap, he had to show at least some regard for his reputation. Seems like all you cared about at the moment was adjusting against his chest so you could snuggle your face into the corner of his neck. Firmly muscular, but comfortable.

He smelt pleasant— hints of fresh citrus and old books radiated off of him like an aura. You suppose the scent of a person really said a lot about them. Al Haitham, that once bitterly cold man had been reduced like a squeezed lemon, sour at first but you’ve drained that attitude from him. As for the other, well, the books were self-explanatory. He was a needed comfort either way.

“Can you read to me too please?”

“You ask for too much, darling...”

kaveh

“Kaveh, you wouldn’t mind me sitting on your lap, right?”

The architect’s breath hitched, pencil hovering over the unfinished blueprint. Did he just hear you right? He sighed, wondering why he felt the need to express hesitance when you’re his beloved. That’s new, and awfully endearing too.

His lack of an answer left thoughts swarming your head within seconds. Did i make him uncomfortable? Why though? You’ve done much more intimate things with him than this. You spun around on your heel, a mediocre attempt at fleeing the flustering scene. The creak of a chair accompanied with a tight grasp of a hand around your wrist had settled you onto Kaveh’s thighs.

“Don’t run away, sweetheart, i was a little taken aback, that’s all.” Your boyfriend massaged circular motions into your tense shoulders, apprehensively stiff to the touch. You melted into his gentle ministrations, finally lowering yourself into his lap securely.

“Am i not bothering your soon to be due planning?” You quizzed, turning your head to glance at the messily organised desk, fragments of graphite smeared over it and numerous pencils scattered across the surface. A professional procrastinator is what he was, he never accepted such a name from your mouth, poorly persuading you to keep quiet so he could de-stress.

“I needed a break anyway, my love, just rest with me a little while longer.”

cyno

“I know you’re busy Cyno, but can i sit with you please?”

Such innocently vague phrasing truly disguised your intentions. When you said it like that, Cyno didn’t think much of it and simply agreed. That was until you positioned yourself comfortably on his lap, legs either side of his thighs.

He gasped softly— watching you loop your arms around his neck and snuggle your face into his chest. Bold behaviour like this wasn’t normal for you but he supposed this didn’t have any deeper meaning other than wanting to be close to him.

“Dear…you don’t have anything up your sleeve, do you?” Cyno quizzed, squinting slightly to search for any reaction from you. Your light giggle and the abrupt shaking of your head suggested you didn’t have any ulterior motives.

The general grinned briefly, setting down his report to embrace you with his arms and began to kiss your forehead delicately, leaning into his gentle touch as if you were a cat starved of attention.

“Why don’t i change that, darling?”

tighnari

“Nari, sitting on your lap won’t interfere with your work, yes?”

Your boyfriend froze, the abrupt request felt unfamiliar to fall from your tongue, yet he couldn’t find it within him to decline such an offer. He placed the pen down, turning so slightly as to not let you see the hint of rose over his face.

“Well, i suppose it wouldn’t.” The forest ranger mumbled, trying his hardest not to show a trace of embarrassment. So much for the composed, knowledgeable chief everyone knew. You, on the other hand, smiled cheekily, walking over to see what mess you’ve made.

Just as you were about to tease him, Tighnari seized your waist and spun you around to sit facing the other way. Of course, you facepalmed yourself mentally, how could you limit your lover’s sharp mind?

Tighnari was not about to let you make fun of him with your little tricks— like how you did numerous times before.

“Not so fast darling. I think i deserve an apology for that, physical or verbal, it’s up to you.”

dottore

“My husband, can i sit here with you?”

Dottore trailed his scarlet eyes over your torso, following your outstretched arm until he witnessed your own finger directed to his very lap. You… wanted to sit on him? How flatteringly bold of you. He shifted his legs to let you move in between, patting his situationally vacant legs.

“As you wish, my love, don’t keep me waiting.”Your lover chuckled as your sudden expression adapted into a more coy smile, whether this was from hesitance or excitement, he didn’t know. Your gentle hands reached for his shoulders, so lightly as if you were afraid.

His thighs were firm yet soft enough to rest your own on top, allowing the harbinger to run his fingers along your back whilst he admired the way in which you’d relax against him without a care in the world. He only mattered to you in this moment— the unexpectedly soft, caring husband no one knew of but yourself.

Dottore hasn’t meant to become so attached to the feeling of your thighs encasing him, now it was the only way he was fond of, with you right where you’re safe.

6K notes · View notes

lovebugism · 6 months

Note

Hi! Could I pls request a Steve x shy!reader drabble? Maybe they’re a bit of a bookworm and they have a meet cute at a library or bookstore or something ☺️ I love your fics, and I hope you’re having a good day! 💛

i've been working on this wip for ages but i loved this request too much not to finish! thanks for being patient with me anon!

summary: steve hopeless romantic harrington meets shy!reader at a bookstore and fluffy awkwardness ensues (meet cute, strangers to lovers-ish, fluff, 2.1k)

fictober (㇏(•̀ᵥᵥ•́)ノ)

Five hours go by like minutes, tucked away in the back of the library — your own little corner of the world.

Because all your spare cash went to groceries and good food (and the newest Margaret Atwood novel just dropped), you hide in the back of the bookstore and get lost in the nostalgic earthy scent of the thick pages you’ve been waiting ages to read.

You sit between the dystopian and gothic fiction aisles, back propped against the former with your knees folded to your chest, and speed-read as much as you can before closing.

The in-store café offers complimentary coffee and bagels. It’s lukewarm and a little cardboard-y, but it’s fuel nonetheless. You only get up once to use the bathroom and stretch your stiff limbs. Other than that very brief break, you’re relatively unbothered — until page 196, anyway.

“Where are the porno mags?” a male voice wonders from a few aisles down. It’s not the first voice you’ve heard all day, but it’s certainly the closest.

A feminine voice follows, nearer now. “There’s no porn, dingus. I was just saying that so you’d drive me here.”

“…That’s so fucked up.”

“You’ll get over it.”

“No, actually. I won’t. This might be the end of our friendship, now that I think about it.”

Their conversation draws closer and closer to you in time with their nearing footsteps. You figure they must be looking for a different section — certainly not the one you’ve had to yourself all day — but then they turn the corner of the aisle and stop short when they find you sitting there.

“Oh,” a pretty girl hums as she stares down at you, rouge mouth forming a softly pouted ‘o’ shape.

Her hair is a sandy color, like a beach, and it’s chopped at her shoulders. She wears a pair of slacks and suspenders over an oversized button-up. She looks like a character from a book you wish you could write.

She smiles down at you, a tad bit awkwardly. “Hello…”

“Shit— ” you curse, scrambling to get your legs out of the aisle. Your face burns as you bring your knees back to your chest. “I’m sorry.”

“No worries,” she shrugs and walks on by you.

A pretty boy follows.

His hair is a really specific shade of brown — like chocolate syrup mixed with honey. It’s pushed back over his forehead, messy with intention. A few strands hang over his thick brows like they’re meant to be there. He’s got a layer of scruff on his chiseled jaw that’s a shade lighter than his actual hair.

His wide eyes are a similar chocolate-syrup-honey color.

He’s almost annoyingly pretty. The kind of pretty that seems unfair.

“Don’t apologize to her,” the pretty boy jokes with a lopsided smile. “She’s a total bully.”

The pretty girl interjects. “Don’t listen to him. He’s an idiot. And stop bothering her, dingus— she’s obviously trying to read.”

You breathe out an awkward laugh through your nose.

You don’t want them to think you’re actually annoyed, but you don’t have the words to tell them that. You have no idea what to say to them, actually. They’re obviously far cooler than you are, and the notion almost threatens you.

The pretty boy doesn’t follow his pretty friend. He lets her roam the aisle, obviously in search of something, and leans against the gothic fiction section across from you.

“So, uh… What are you reading?” he asks.

You don’t trust your voice to answer him verbally, lest the words get stuck in your throat and make you sound like Kermit the Frog. You flash him the dystopic, renaissance painting-esque cover with a tightlipped smile.

“Handmaid’s Tale,” he reads with a squint, then nods. “Sounds fun.”

“It’s not,” the pretty girl scoffs. She thumbs through her own copy of the book that she plucked from the shelf. “It’s the one I was telling you about on the way over.”

The pretty boy’s face screws up in disgust. “Oh. The one with gross men?”

“The one with the gross men.”

He turns back to you, looking apologetic. “Sorry, I take it back. Not fun.”

You smile wordlessly in response.

“He’s Steve, by the way,” the pretty girl says to you, nodding to the pretty boy. “I figured if he’s gonna keep weirdly hovering over you, you should probably know his name—”

“I’m not hovering!”

“—You can call him dingus if you want. I’m Robin.”

“Hi,” you greet, quiet and mousy.

“Do you come around here often?” the boy — Steve — wonders, bushy brows pinched and burly arms crossed over his chest. “I feel like I’ve seen you before—”

“Ugh. Stop flirting with her.”

“I’m asking a question!”

You purse your lips to the side in attempts to hide your smile and your gaze back to your book.

They argue like a married couple. You wonder how long they’ve been together — six months or six years?

“Sorry about him. He’s not usually this annoying,” Robin quips with a playful twinkle in her deep ocean eye. She slams the book closed with a ringed handand walks back towards you. She pushes Steve ahead and away from you in the process. “Alright, I got the goods. Let’s go before they close.”

Your eyes widen as you look down at your wrist.

Ten minutes until eight o’clock.

You turn to the book once more and find that you’re about a hundred pages shy from the end of it. You tend to read like a maniac if you’re focused enough, but there’s no way you’re finishing it before closing.

“Shit…”

“You okay?” Steve asks, still lingering at the very end of the aisle, though Robin has already left for check-out.

You rise and straighten out your clothes — the very un-special sweatshirt and baggy jeans duo you’d changed into after work. It’s not unlike the navy blue henley and similarly colored denim he’s got on, but you don’t look nearly as pretty as he does.

“Yeah,” you shrug, not quite meeting his gaze as you return the book that feels like it only fits in your hands. “I just— I didn’t realize how late it was.”

You don’t expect to see Steve looking so concerned when you turn back to him. His brows are furrowed, honey eyes glinting in question. “You’re not getting it? You looked like you were almost done.”

“Oh, I don’t— I can’t…” you stammer then trail off, fidgeting awkwardly ahead of him.

You don’t want this pretty boy’s first impression of you to be that you’re completely and utterly broke. Even if this is the last you ever see of him, you’ll only be remembered as that one girl from the bookstore who couldn’t buy herself anything.

“I figured I could just come buy tomorrow and finish it…”

“Oh. Okay. Well, it was… it was nice meeting you, then.”

“You, too,” you murmur with a tightlipped smile, eager to get away from a moment you don’t feel very deserving of.

Out of every girl this pretty boy could’ve chosen, why did it have to be the one in the very back of the bookstore who was too poor to get anything other than a free coffee and bagel?

You chuck both in the bin as you head towards the exit.

The sun has almost finished setting when you leave — mostly disappeared over the skyline, but painting the sky a deep lavender shade unique to the twilight hour. You stand at the crosswalk — the man on the speaker shouting “wait!” at your side — as you anticipate the orange hand across the street to turn into a white stick figure.

“I told you she’d still be here,” a familiar voice sounds from a few paces behind you, mostly drowned out by the sounds of passing cars. A louder “hey!” follows. You only think the voice might be calling for you until it comes closer.

“Hey!” It comes again, louder now.

You look over your shoulder and find Steve from the Bookstore striding towards you.

Both happy and confused to see him, your wavering smile is paired with a pair of furrowed brows. “Hey…”

“Sorry, you just— you left this.”

When your eyes manage to flit away from his sculpted face — which you just noticed looks eerily similar to Michelangelo’s David — you find that he’s holding a book in his hands. Handmaid’s Tale. The same copy you were reading, dog-eared just like you left it.

Your contorted features never falter. “I didn’t…” you trail off with the shake of your head, laughing softly. “I didn’t buy that.”

“No, I know,” Steve shrugs with a crooked grin. “I did.”

You think he might be implying he bought it for you, but then you realize that’s crazy, because why would he do that for you? That’s the sort of thing that happens to girls in Brontë novels, not to you.

“Youdid?” you echo like an idiot because it’s all you can think to say.

“Yeah. ‘Cause, you know, you looked pretty interested in it and everything…”

“But you didn’t have to… You didn’t have to buy it for me—”

“It’s not a big deal. Seriously. I mean, it’ll save you the extra trip down here tomorrow, right?”

You meet his confident grin with a trembling one. “I can’t take it…”

“Well, if you don’t take it, that means I have to keep it, and—”

“He’s pretty much illiterate,” Robin calls from a little ways behind him.

She’s waiting by a pretty maroon car. It looks like a luxury model of some kind, shiny like it’s fresh off the lot. She leans against it like it’s hers, but Steve’s got the keys in his hand — the one not holding the book he bought for you.

“…I was gonna say I haven’t read anything since junior year of high school, but sure,” he concedes with a shrug. His eyes sparkle down at you— or maybe it’s just the street lamps flickering on. Either way, you feel your stomach whirling. He waves the book at you. “Take it. You’ll actually read it.”

“But…” you trail off, eyes flickering over to Robin. You step closer to Steve and lean in like you’re about to tell him a secret. “Won’t your girlfriend be upset?”

“Girlfriend?” the boy repeats with pinched brows. He goes soft with realization a second later, then starts to laugh. “No. Robin, she’s— No. She’s not really my type.”

“Oh. Shit. Sorry,” you stammer with wide eyes.

If cool, pretty girls aren’t his type, then there’s no way in hell you are.

Slightly comforted by his assurances, when he motions the book to you again, you take it.

“Well, thank you, Steve. That’s… That’s really nice.”

He shrugs again. “’S no big deal. Really.”

“But I feel a little bad,” you confess quietly, peeking at him from beneath your lashes while you fidget with the book in your anxious hands. “I feel like I should give you something in return, or, I don’t know, like—”

“You don’t have to do anything,” Steve assures with the shake of his head. He swipes a hand through the chocolate-honey locks and flashes you a smile that borders on shy. “But if you wanted to go out for coffee or something sometime, then I’d be willing to call it even.”

Your cheeks burn. You don’t know if you’re breathing anymore, or if you even can. A quiet smile quirks at the corner of your mouth as you nod. “Coffee sounds good,” you answer sheepishly.

“Cool,” Steve replies coolly, like he isn’t totally beaming down at you. “Then, just… call me whenever you’re free.”

“Oh, I don’t— I don’t have your number.”

His sneakers scuff against the sidewalk as he walks backwards to his car. He just nods at you, smiling gently as he argues, “Yeah, you do.”

Your brows furrow in confusion — because you most certainly don’t. He was a stranger to you a little more than ten minutes ago. You have no reason to have his number.

Realization settles over you like pinpricks down your spine, butterflies in your belly.

You open the front cover of the book and find several numbers written down at the very bottom of the cover page.

Call me when you finish, the note reads in half-legible chicken scratch. I’m not really a book guy, but I could probably hear you talk about them all day.

He signs off with his name, number, and a sloppy smiley face.

You don’t realize you’re beaming until you already are.

When you look back up at Steve, you find him standing at the open driver’s side door, already smiling back at you.

#published by bug #steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington #steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #stranger things fanfiction #steve harrington fanfiction #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington fluff #st drabbles #stevie drabble #event: fictober!

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praisethegabs · 10 months

Text

HOT

pairing: leon kennedy x reader synopsis: you and leon decide to drink in a bar once the guy you both investigate doesn't show up. the thing is, he's really hot and attractive and gets all the attention. the problem? well, leon doesn't like it when you flirt with someone else. warnings: pure smut, p in v, rough sex, leon being very jealousy and kinky. MINORS DNI! author's note: I wrote this one with id!leon because it fits better, vaguely based on hot by avril lavigne because it came first in my mind when i read the request. whoever you are, anon, i hope you enjoy it! word count: 3060k

The entire bar was having fun.

All the people inside it were busy minding their own lives, drinking with their friends, their loved ones or just drinking alone, enjoying their own company. This bar, in particular, had some red neon lights inside, live music, and a nice decoration. Despite all the happiness and the music around and the loud conversations, two people weren’t there just for fun, just to enjoy a casual Friday night.

Sitting next to you, there was the most handsome man you ever knew. And the sexiest one, too. The name of this beauty? Leon Scott Kennedy.

You and Leon were partners for a long time. He even trained you personally. Some people used to say you both have a lot of chemistry together, and sometimes, they even think he’s your boyfriend — once you hear someone say they thought Leon was your husband. Unfortunately, you are just his close friend, which you hate entirely because God knows how many times you desired this man, even dreamed about him fucking you at his desk at the agency. So, playing with masks, he’s just your friend.

But, to be honest, you aren’t behind him when the subject is beauty.

You’re used to having people eating you with their eyes like you’re some kind of meat. In terms of beauty, everyone says you look beautiful as well as Leon is, that’s why everybody says you both look like a couple from a Hollywood film, which is very funny, because everyone sees it, except for him. The other funny thing is that Leon is so awkward around people that it’s cute because only you know how uncomfortable he might get when it comes to talking to another woman.

But why the hell aren’t you guys enjoying this Friday night like everyone else inside the bar?

The answer is very simple. Because you two aren’t just normal people. You both were there for a job, and apparently, the person you guys are investigating decided not to show up and, apparently, too, frustrate your plans. You have both been working for months, and this was the perfect opportunity to finally get to him. You were stressed, tired, and angry, and your face wasn’t very friendly at the moment.

“I think we should enjoy the night. We already know that asshole won’t show up” you hear Leon say, his voice very smooth and sexy, just like him.

“We’re working,” you said to him, very annoyed, your fingernails tapping the table with rage, a clear sign of yours that you were very angry at the moment.

“Not anymore. He didn’t come, and we have all night. We can start working at seven tomorrow morning” Leon teases you, that smirk on his lips that in a daily basis makes you go feral, but not at the moment.

“I’m not compromising my mission just because you want to get drunk, Kennedy” Your voice sounds sharper than your intention, but he didn’t seem to care about your annoyance. He knows you.

“Oh, come on, sweetheart. Don’t be a pain in my ass, I’m gently asking you to join me on this lovely Friday night and have fun with me” Leon smirks again, his devilish smile that makes you feel things you don’t want to. The same smile that locks your eyes on his lips and makes you imagine very naughty things.

“One drink only” you sighed to him, rolling your eyes. He smiles victoriously and decides to order two drinks for you guys. After he ordered your beverage, he just leaned comfortably on the chair and smirked at you again, one hand in his lap and the other on the table. “What now?”

“You look deadly beautiful when you’re angry like this” he teases you. You roll your eyes again, which makes him smile more. He knows how to push you to your limits. He knows how to leave you on the edge. "It's very sexy, y'know?"

Before you say anything, the waiter finally delivered your drinks, which you take one shot, feeling the taste in your throat, squeezing your eyes immediately.

"Yeah, I know," you said to him, avoiding his gaze. For some reason, you are very uncomfortable, and Leon probably knows it because he's responsible for making you feel this way.

Looking around, you can notice how everyone in the bar seems to be instantly attracted by him, which makes you feel very angry. You start to think what the hell all these people think they are? Leon is your partner. He's with you, not with them, right? They don't need to put their eyes on him, because Leon belongs to you and you only.

But then, you have to remind yourself that he's just your friend. He's nothing more than this, and you'll have to accept that. If he decides to be with someone else that isn't you, well, you won't be able to change that. You look at him again, drinking another shot from the alcohol inside your glass, his eyes shining strangely at you, like he's planning something. And let's be honest here, you hate how unpredictable he can be sometimes.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask him, still noticing how people around were looking at him. This time, you were starting to get angry again. Not even all the alcohol in the world would change that.

"Like what, sweetheart?" Leon smirks one more time, still teasing you, like he always does. You were starting to swear to God you would kill him.

"Like you want something," your eyes lock on his, and you wished you could burn him for looking at you that way.

"Maybe I do want something from you" he said very slowly, leaning closer to your face as he speaks, and in response, you do the same, feeling the smell of his cologne penetrate your nose and making your body shiver.

And when he noticed that, he just smiled largely, like this is a game you both were playing to see who can go insane first and to see how it would end. Sure, you both have been doing this for a very long time, but something says to you that this time, things will end differently than usual, and, honestly, you want to see it. You want to see you both burning with pleasure, moaning to each other like like there's no tomorrow.

But then, you noticed again how people were looking at him and this time, you decide to end this once and for all. Besides, it's Friday, and you can get drunk and do whatever you want without even care about the consequences. So, with full determination, you take another shot from your drink, squeeze your eyes and decides to end all this jealous you're feeling. He's just your slutty handsome partner and friend. Nothing more.

"I think it's funny how everyone here seems to be eating you alive." you look at him, your expression a little bit serious, but very provocative. He wants to play with you, but you'll be the one to throw the cards.

Leon smirks again, but he doesn't need to look around to know what you're talking about. He knows everyone is looking at him, and he certainly knows why they can't get their eyes off of him. Plus, he knows the effect that it has on you and how much you hate seeing him receiving so much attention.

"Just ignore it, sweetheart. You know I only have eyes for you, " he smirks again, playful. You know what he's trying to do, and just to play along, you removed your high heels, then reach his leg with your feet under the table, slowly going up on him until you reach his cock, which makes him blush.

"Oh, honey, you weren't expecting that, do you?" You ask him very smoothly and sensual, smiling very teasingly, like he was doing to you. "Do you think you're the only one around who's gonna receive attention?"

Saying that, you put your high heels on again then you get up, finish your drink, and go to dance alone on the dance floor. Your red and tight dress shines with all the lights around the place as you dance with different persons. There's a guy holding your waist as he pulls you closer to him, and in the middle of all this, your eyes find Leon as he watches you with a surprised look. You know exactly how to provoke him, and you know it's working. His expression slowly starts to change, and he stands up, going straight a blonde woman next to him.

You can say he's flirting with her. He's smiling and whispering closer to her ear, which makes your entire body go feral, as she seems to be enjoying this piece of God's work of art all by herself. And, for some other unknown reason you can't explain, you decide to make him pay double for it. Walking straight to him in a sensual way, you sat on his lap, your arms around his neck.

"Oh, darling, I found you! I was looking for you everywhere!" you said to him, with a devilish smile on your lips, your dress so tight that you can feel him getting bigger inside his pants. "Oh, I'm sorry, I didn't see you there. My husband loves to talk with other people when I'm not around. He's very beautiful, don't you think?" you said to the girl, which made her entire face blush.

"What the hell are you doing?" You feel Leon hold your waist very tight, his grip getting more intense, which made you smile even more.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'm not the jealous type, I'd love to meet your new friend," you wink at him, as the girl excuses herself before she leaves you both alone. Leon looks at you like he's about to end your life right here and right now, and this makes you smile even more.

"Why are you behaving like that?" He asks you very annoyed, his voice sharper, as you stand up again, adjusting your dress, still smiling very devilish.

"Because we're in public, I know I'm very hot and attractive, and because... sweetheart... it's not just you who's receiving attention" you said closer to his ear, biting his earlobe to make him go insane.

"Do you want attention, honey?" Leon stands up, getting closer to you, as you feel his breath on your face. Instantly, your heart starts to beat faster inside your chest. "Then I'll give you full attention"

Saying that, Leon drives you back to the hotel where you both were staying, pretending to be a happy married couple in a nice honeymoon. Once you reach your room, Leon drops you on your bed without gentleness, he took off your dress without asking permission, throwing it away, then he removed his belt, using it to tie your hands on the bed. Now you were naked, tied and your pussy were all wet.

"Oh you have no idea how much I wanted to do this with you" he said, his hands circling your nipples as he sees you twitching for him. "Such a desperate slut for me, huh? You're so wet and I haven't done anything... yet"

You were opening your mouth to say something, but instead, he shut you with his hand, forcing you to keep quiet, as his other hand finally reaches your wet pussy, circling your clit slowly, making you suffer.

"I'm gonna make you pay for dancing with that man, for letting him touch you" he says, circling your clit slowly, as you start to moan, your mouth muffled by his hand. "And I'm gonna make you scream my name"

You were so screwed and you knew that. You knew Leon was a kinky son of a bitch, and you knew he was going to make you beg to let you cum. You knew he was going to deny every orgasm of yours. You pushed him to his edge and now you were going to pay the price for it.

"Look at you... such a beautiful slut. So wet for me..." he says, before he starts to lick your nipple, still using his free hand to muffle you. "This is what you get when you misbehave"

Your pussy was starting to ache, your body desperate for his touch, to feel his cock inside you, to cum all over him. You were so desperate for him, you wanted to beg, you wanted to feel him. But he needed to teach you a lesson first.

"Spread this legs for me" he orders, his fingers now inside you as you obey his command, spreading your legs. "Such a obedient slave... maybe I should reward you. Stay still"

He then returned with ropes, using them to tie your legs, to make sure you wouldn't move again or close them. Now you were twitching your body, you couldn't handle this pleasure anymore, you wanted so badly to cum, you wanted so badly to feel him inside, to eat you like a dessert. Jesus, you wanted so badly to be fucked by him.

"Please Leon... I'll behave, I promise" you said to him, your body twitching as you feel your pussy aching with excitement, you could feel yourself all wet.

"You had your chance, sweetheart" he said, crawling over you, his tongue licking your clit, making you moan louder with his touch, as he holds your legs against his face, not letting you move.

"O-oh G-God..." you moan louder again, your body twitching more with his tongue licking you with intensity. You could feel yourself getting closer to your orgasm and, unfortunately, he knew that too, which why he stopped, a mischievous smile on his lips as he licks it, feeling yourself.

"You'll have your orgasm when I say so" he said, unzipping his pants. He removed his belt from your hands, then he pulls your closer. "Get on all fours for me"

You turned around, but the ropes on your ankles made it difficult at first. Then, he stayed right in front of you, pushing your hair to make sure you were looking straight at him.

"Open this pretty mouth of yours for me" he ordered and you did so. He then puts his cock inside your mouth, making you suck him so deeper that your eyes were tearing up. "Didn't you wanted to taste me?"

You nod, still sucking his cock deeper in your throat. You were so wet, your pussy were aching more as he fucks your mouth, and moans louder. He removes himself off of you, using his finger to make you suck it for him.

"Beg for me" he says, making you suck his finger as he starts to masturbate himself, watching you suck his finger like a slut.

"Please, Leon... let me have your cock, please" you beg to him, your eyes locked on his, as you kept sucking his finger. He smiles, masturbating himself and moaning, denying the only thing you want so badly.

Leon stops touching himself and then goes behind you, his dick entering your pussy without gentleness, his hips against yours with violence as you hold tight the sheets and moans louder. Your pussy were aching with him fucking you hard and deeper, pushing your hair tight, his hips reaching your ass harder.

"Good girl" he moans again, fucking you harder.

"I-I can't... I can't hold anymore" you moan to him, feeling your orgasm closer as he keeps fucking you harder and harder.

"Yes, you can. If you dare cum on me without my consent, you'll be punished" he says very serious to you, still going deeper and faster, not even caring to hold back.

You bite your lower lip, squeezing your eyes as you feel him getting faster and harder on you. It is so much pain mixed with pleasure that all you think about is scream his name, to beg for him to let you go. This feeling he was giving you was far more different than you ever could imagine. Sure, you imagined him banging you on his desk, on his bed, dinner table, even in his bathroom, but what he was doing to you... well, it was something else.

"S-shit" he moans louder, fucking you harder, as you feel him releasing his cum on your ass. But even after he had his orgasm, he wouldn't stop right now. "Someone's need to be pleased, don't you think?"

"Y-yes, please" you beg for him, catching your breath as you feel his fingers on you again, circling your clit, then another one fucking you.

"Too bad I don't have toys with me... you would be begging even more" he whispers closer to your ear as he keeps masturbating you. "Scream my name, sweetheart, I know that you want to"

"Leon, please" you beg him, your legs starting to tremble as you feel your orgasm getting closer for the third time after he denied the others.

"Scream my name" he orders, threatening to stop masturbating you, his fingers moving slowly.

"LEON, PLEASE!" you scream to him, which makes him smile and finally moving faster, until you finally had your orgasm. Your entire body started to tremble, your legs almost failing you as you moan louder, a warm feeling growing inside you.

"Good girl" he smiles satisfied, releasing your ankles from the ropes, then pulling you closer to cuddle with him. Your body were all sweaty and the feeling of his cock on your ass made your body shiver.

And then, he just kissed you, removing your sweaty hair off of your face, his strong arms involving you in a warm hug as his body warms yours in a perfect synchronization, like he was perfectly made for you, and you for him.

"Did it hurt?" He asks very gently to you, still holding you tight on his arms, his breath steady and slowly reaching your neck, making you shiver again.

"No. To be honest, I really enjoyed it" you smile at him, cuddling with his body, relaxing your tensed muscles. "It was better than I thought"

"I'm glad you enjoyed..." he says, letting you down on him, as he watches you very closely, his breath reaching your face. "Because next time you tease me like that, I won't have mercy on you"

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fizzyxcustard · 6 months

Text

Desperation.

Requested by anon and @skeleton-on-wheels0

Taken from: "Imagine that you find out Thorin is in love with you. But you accuse him of only wanting you because you’re the only woman in the Company and he’s desperate. You deeply offend him."

Again, I’m going to post this as a drabble as it’s fairly short, and I won’t tag anyone.

“I am in love with you,” Thorin said softly as he stood next to you in Beorn’s barn. The midnight moon shone upon his face, highlighting his silver blue eyes, making them sparkle like aquamarine stones.

A shiver of anticipation raced down your spine at his revelation. Why on earth would Thorin ever feel something for you? Immediately your mind began rationalising his feelings, churning it all over in your mind. For a few seconds and you were silent.

“And you do not feel the same?” Thorin asked sadly. “I knew it was best I keep my thoughts to myself.”

“Thorin,” you whispered, placing your hand on his arm. “I…I know I’m the only woman in the Company and no doubt as a male, you’re going to have urges…”

“That is what you think?” he hissed. “You think this is all about me wanting to seduce you?”

“Please, I didn’t mean it that way.”

“Then how did you mean it?

Something snapped within you, a sore pressure point that had been prodded many times over the years. A place where a deeply buried scar lay untouched, waiting for someone to inadvertently uncover it with their words. A flash of anger hit you full force in your head and chest. “You’re just desperate!” you shouted.

With that, you turned around stormed away towards the back of the barn and slumped down on a bale of hay. Tears were falling down your cheeks now in quick procession which you rubbed away in frustration, only making your cheeks turn redder.

Thorin sighed and grit his teeth, sensing that your words came from a place of pain. However, those words had also deeply pained him in return. Did you think so little of him? Trust so little?

***

The next morning and the tension was still thick between you and Thorin. The whole of the Company, including Gandalf, all sat around a large table, drinking milk and eating honeycakes, specially made by the host himself. However, Beorn announced gruffly that he had no more honeycakes for that morning’s meal, and you were the last person he was intending to serve.

All the Dwarves, Bilbo and Gandalf looked on, their mouths full of food. Except Thorin. He was sat opposite you and immediately reached across to you and handed his cake to you. “Please, eat,” he said, offering you the cake and a sad smile.

“I can’t take your breakfast,” you replied.

“You can and you will,” Thorin said again, placing the cake on your plate.

“Maybe we could split it?”

Thorin didn’t respond, but instead kept his gaze locked on you as you broke the cake in half and then gave a portion back to him.

***

After breakfast, you and Bilbo began filling the saddlebags of the ponies which Beorn was lending you. He had since made more honeycakes, enough to see all of you with food for a good couple of weeks.

“May we have a moment, Master Baggins?” Thorin asked, suddenly appearing before you both. His eyes then moved to you, telling Bilbo that he wished to talk to you.

“Oh, yes, sorry,” Bilbo said, flashing a nervous smile.

“I wish to talk to you about last night. I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable in any way. That was never my intention to do so. But what I told you is the truth, and it has nothing at all to do with you being the only female in this Company. I am quite appalled that you think I would pursue you without any real feelings being involved.”

Your gaze locked with his and you began to speak. “It was unfair of me to say what I did, and I’m sorry. Very few men have ever shown any interest in me in such a way, and then I become a member of your Company and find that you, the rightful king of your homeland, somehow has fallen in love with me. It reads like a pathetic joke. Maybe once we get to Erebor and you see more women again you may…”

“No,” Thorin insisted. “Why do you think so low of yourself? Who has broken you to the point that you cannot accept a declaration of love? I’d hoped you had begun to trust me by now. It is clear you don’t.”

“I do trust you. Implicitly.”

“Obviously not. You cannot trust that my words are true, and that they come from my heart. I love you for everything that you are, for the woman you are. Not because of some lack of choice.”

The sadness in his eyes was so clear to see and it made a lump rise in your throat. To keep doubting his love and pushing him away would be wrong of you. It was obvious that Thorin was speaking truth.

#Thorin Oakenshield #Richard Armitage #Thorin x You #Thorin x Reader #Thorin x Fem!Reader #Thorin Oakenshield x You #Thorin Oakenshield x Reader #Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!Reader #The Hobbit #Thorin Imagine #The Hobbit Imagine #Thorin Oakenshield Imagine #Drabble

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toxicanonymity · 1 year

Note

Uhhhh nightwalks Joel and reader getting high off their asses and then fucking

harder - 420 special, can read alone.

2.8k | Joel x f!Reader | night walks masterlist

IMG: dark profile shot of Joel that says, "lift heavy, talk dirty, smoke weed" and "night walks" in the bottom left.

He slowly rubs your thigh and says, “It's ok, pumpkin. Shouldn’ta had the windows open. Got hot workin' out.” He gets up and closes the windows, pulls the shades down, and double-locks the door. He dims the lights, too. It’s still pretty hot inside. You unzip your hoodie, and he wets his lips as you take it off.

Ty 420 Anon, yard-spying bj anon, @missannwinchester, @xdaddysprincessxx , and everyone for all the great Qs, comments, and ideas. 👖

WARNINGS: 18+ Non-outbreak, AU pothead neighbor Joel, reader smokes, unspecified age gap, drinking, fingering, oral, unsafe vaginal sex (PIV), light choking, hard drug use, bad ideas. Mild dubcon bc drugs? (she has the intent before the drugs)

You start taking your night walks again. You keep seeing your creepy neighbor Joel out in the wild anyway, and your efforts not to fuck him have been not only futile but increasingly weak. You’re walking your first lap around the neighborhood and a car pulls up to Joel's house. A young woman gets out of the car. She goes around back to his man cave where the door must be open because it sounds like he’s lifting weights. Your stomach drops and your heart races. Who is she? His estranged wife–if he even has one, you've never seen her–can’t be your age, can she? Then again, if he can pull you . . . are you just one of many?

Despite your best efforts, it doesn’t leave your mind. When you come back around the neighborhood, your curiosity gets the best of you and you quietly prowl into the back of his yard. His lights are on, so you can see clearly and it makes your insides turn. In the window to the right, Joel is in the middle of sitting down. He rubs his nose and eases back into the sofa with his hands behind his head, elbows out. A look of pleasure spreads across his face. and he says “oh yeah.” In the window to the left, she’s kneeling on the ground in front of him. The gap between the windows spares you the explicit details. Joel looks down, watching her and licking his lips and man, he looks hot. Yeah, it actually turns you on.

His eyes drift to the window and you quietly slink away before he sees you. You walk around the block one more time and light up a joint, hoping to push away your traitorous gut reaction to this development. You have all these thoughts like I should’ve given in. . . .I should’ve come when he invited me. . . He finally gave up on me. . . You know these thoughts make no sense. They make you feel dirty. He’s so skeezy and vile. He’s been preying on you. That’s what you want?

As you approach his cul de sac for the third time, she’s driving away. That was so fast, you have to wonder if he paid her.

“Evenin’, pumpkin.” His voice startles you from the treeline. He’s standing where you were.

You don’t say anything. You take a hit of your joint.

“Yeah I bet you had a pretty good view from here,” he says.

Your heart races and your face gets hot.

You respond, “Have a good time?”

“Oh yeah, always a good time. You wanna try it?”

You scoff but almost, briefly entertain the idea. “I’m good. How much does a blow job cost these days anyway?” You instantly regret the question. Probably sounded resentful.

“Depends how much you’re buyin’.”

“What?”

“Ahh, blow job,” he says. You're embarrassed by how loud he says it. He slowly walks closer to the street – closer to you – then stops when he’s a couple of feet away. He crosses his arms and his biceps bulges under his tight t-shirt. “Blow job. . . that’s what you thought? Well damn. I’m flattered, pumpkin. All jealous of my dealer spendin’ time with me.” As usual, you hate it when he’s right.

“That’s what you call ‘contactless pick-up’?”

“That ain’t the weed girl.”

He walks around you slowly, like you’re a steak he’s about to carve up, then he puts his hand on the back of your neck and lowers his voice.

“That’s Michelle Pfieffer, baby. Not Mary Jane.” He looks at your joint and you hand it to him. He's totally lost you. "Never seen Scarface?" He takes a hit, inhales, and holds. His broad chest swells with his lungs. Then he strokes your temple and squints at you, like he’s reading you, as he brings his mouth less than a centimeter from yours and exhales. You breathe him in so cleanly, so greedily, barely any of it escapes into the air around you. You hold, then turn your head to release the smoke. It was too much, too soon, but you couldn’t turn him away. After successfully resisting a glance for several minutes, your eyes fall to the ample bulge in his PJs, sending a warm rush to your core.

He smirks and strokes the nape of your neck. You don’t say anything. You just stand there marveling at how genuinely hot he is. Beautiful, even. Shit, you’re really high.

“C’mon,” he says and rotates around so he’s next to you, slightly behind you. He squeezes your neck, and his forearm is resting between your shoulder blades when he starts walking you towards his basement. You barely resist at all. “Real bad girl shit, you’re gonna love it.”

By the time you’re halfway to the door, his hand is no longer on your neck. It’s drifted down to give your ass a brief squeeze, and for the first time since finding out his real intentions, you’re walking into his basement quite willingly.

He nods to the couch. “What do you want to drink?”

“Whatever.” You move a throw pillow out of your way and sit down.

On the ottoman in front of the couch, there’s a mirrored tray with a credit card, loosely rolled $100 bill, and white powder residue. She was doing a line, not sucking his cock. Now you’re even more embarrassed.

Joel comes around the sofa and gives you an IPA.

He sits down right next to you, manspreading with his hand on his inner thigh and his other thigh flush with yours. He slowly rubs your leg and says, “It's okay, pumpkin. I shouldn’ta had the windows open. Got hot workin' out.”

He gets up and closes the windows, pulls the shades down, and double-locks the door. He dims the lights, too. It’s still pretty hot inside. As he slowly crosses the room, he wets his lips and watches you unzip your hoodie You fold it up and set it in your lap.

"You gotta try this shit." He gets out his drug box.

You hesitate and decline.

“Girl as bad as you, never done hard drugs?”

“Tried it, didn't like it. It was gross.”

“Bet it was cut with somethin’ gross. This is good shit. maybe later though. Hmm?" He turns to face you, strokes your inner thigh, and studies your face.

"Yeah I'm already high as fuck" you admit.

He laughs. “High as fuck . . . that makes two of us, pumpkin.” You can see it in his eyes, too. He extends his beer to cheers yours.

"Got all stressed out seein' me with another chick?"

You take a long sip and observe the tent in his pants, resenting that he's right as usual. He takes a long sip too then puts it down. He leans in close, puts his mouth against your ear. "You don't have to say it," he whispers as he takes your beer out of your hand and your sweatshirt out of your lap, setting them on the table without fully leaving your space. His cold hand slides between your legs, lightly trailing up your inner thigh over your thin joggers. Then he adds, "I can feel it."

You’re already turning to face him. Your legs open, making room for him. “Yeah, that’s right” he says.

You lean back, he gets between your legs, and his hands prowl up toward your shoulders, caging you to the couch. He presses the hard silhouette of his cock into your inseam. Then his mouth latches onto yours and your chest swells into him, your nipples hardening against his tight undershirt. He makes room then his hand slides up under your undershirt – no bra – taking the shirt with it. You help him pull it over your head. Then he cups a breast and palms your hard nipple and your back arches. You’re throbbing for him.

“too hot for these,” he says, hooking fingers into your joggers. He begins to pull them down, then pauses when they’re at your knees. He spreads you open with both thumbs and plants his mouth for a taste. He licks and moans “Mmm’ into your cunt, then plunges his tongue inside, making your hips lift into his face.

He comes up for air and says, "god damn you're hot," palming himself over his pants. He finishes pulling your joggers off. "Hotter every fuckin time." He returns to grinding into you and sucks your neck. Holy fuck, he's hard. So hard. Your mouth falls open with a soft moan.

"Yeah, you feel that? C’mon, let's get wild, baby." He grinds into you a couple more times, says “yeah,” then sits back on his heels and gets the coke baggie. He picks up a small key ring from the coffee table. Joel opens the bag and dips a key into it, getting the smallest little mountain of white powder on the end of the key, then he puts the baggie down on the tray.

"C'mere a sec. It's just a little," he says. You sit up while he makes a vertical fist and puts the smallest hill of white powder on the flat web between his thumb and forefinger. It doesn't look like much, so you play along, closing a nostril and bringing your nose to his fist. You inhale and he says "attagirl," then with the same hand, he grabs your jaw and pulls your mouth into his for an aggressive kiss. The back of your throat is dripping nasally, but you're tingling all over as his tongue invades your mouth with his hand holding your jaw. Then that hand loosens and slides down to your throat and he pushes you back down on the couch, your head landing on the throw pillow.

"Don't worry, pumpkin. All yours tonight, every inch,” he says, stroking himself through his pants. That sends a bolt of desire right through you. His hand slides down your chest over your stomach to your dripping pussy and he says "you taste real fuckin good, you know that?" as he fingers you. Then he licks his thick digits clean.

He pulls down his waistband, frees himself from his PJ pants, then changes his mind and takes them off entirely. He lays his hips onto yours, his stiff cock resting on your mound and you tilt your hips in search of friction. God, you need him so bad. His face returns to your neck and you claw at his t-shirt. He takes it off and admires you with red, half-lidded eyes while he's still sitting upright.

"God you look so fuckin hot. . . “ He runs his hand lightly over your stomach, between your breasts, and back. You badly want him inside you.

He takes the baggie and dips the key in it again. “Gotta do it, ‘fore I get you all sweaty.” Then the cold metal on your cleavage makes your nipples harden and he inhales deeply. He carefully draws a thin line along your cleavage, all the way up to your clavicle, then admires his work.

"Baby you're the hottest thing ‘ever been in this room," he says and your heart swells a little, to your embarrassment.

You watch him in a trance, wanting him back against your buzzing body. He picks up and tightens the rolled up bill. He strokes his naked cock with his other hand then lets it fall between your legs. Your hips tilt, and his tip meets your entrance, nudging at your tight, wet hole while he braces himself on the couch. Your legs open a little wider for him. Your body is drunk with need. Then he brings his head to your chest, the bill to his nose, and snorts the whole line, up to the bottom of your throat, and in the same swift motion, he plunges his stiff length into you with a groan, and you moan at the stretch of his girth.

He tilts his head back and sniffles, staying inside you as he does it. Jesus, who knew a cock could be so hard, or feel so good. He retreats half way then pushes all the way into you again, bottoming out with a shudder.

“God damn, baby,” he says, then begins to move his hips fluidly. He feels so unequivocally good, you can’t even pretend he doesn’t. No part of you can. In a fucked up way, you feel like you’re exactly where you want to be in life, on the couch of this creep’s basement. He grunts as he buries his rock-hard length inside you and sucks at your neck. His cock fills you up just right, just the right amount of stretch, and the way he moves his hips, he’s rubbing you just right, too. All you want is more of it.

“Harder,” you hear yourself say.

“What now?” he smirks with a hint of disbelief.

“Harder, Joel.” He heard you the first time, he just wanted to hear it again. “Fuck me harder.” Your hips lift into his and you wrap your legs all the way around him. He rolls into you smoothly again, nodding, and you feel it building in your core. You watch him in anticipation - his glistening biceps. His absurd triceps. His strong torso. Something animalistic comes across his face.

“Fuck yeah,” he breathes.

He slams into you with a grunt, and you moan. You don’t bother trying not to. Not tonight. He hooks his arms under your shoulders for leverage and pounds into you again and again, to the hilt each time, grunting, breathing heavily. You gasp. He’s hitting that spot just right and he knows it. You’re close to coming. His messy hair bounces as he rails you.

“Thought you’d never ask, baby,” he says.

He moves one of his arms under your knee, putting that leg on his shoulder, and keeps railing you. It feels like your whole torso is being filled by him. You groan loudly, overwhelmed by him all up in your guts. It’s like he’s been holding out on you – he was already so good and this is just ridiculous.

“Fuckin’ love this pussy,” he pants, looking at you like a work of art as he fucks you. Your back arches and you writhe under him, so close to the edge. He somehow pushes even further.

“And you love this cock, don’t ya?” You nod, tears prickling your eyes. Sweat falls off his chest onto yours as he pummels you.

“Fuck yeah,” he growls.

“Yeah,” you pant, practically a whisper. You could do this all night.

He slams into you hard again, tripping you over the edge, and you repeat “Yeah,” louder, which turns into a moan as you squirm under him through your waves of pleasure and your body jerks.

“I know, baby,” he says. “Attagirl, yeah, come on this cock.” You continue to contract, and manage to stammer, “Oh God, don’t stop.”

As your climax wanes, he hooks both his arms under yours again and says “c’mere,” as his hips roll into you more gracefully again. He kisses you, and moans into your mouth as he fucks you, and you quickly feel it building again. You moan and he says, “hell yeah.”

He pulls out and your gut reaction is”no,” before he can even help you into straddling him. “Well hot damn,” he says and sits back for you to ride him.

You push yourself up by your elbows, then begin to climb into his lap.

“All yours, baby. Ride it.”

You can’t sink onto him fast enough. You both grunt as your bodies are joined. You roll your hips into him and his large hands move you on his cock. He takes a nipple into his mouth and your head falls back. You still can’t get over how hard he is. You could do this all night, you think.

But it isn’t long before his breath changes and you know he’s gonna come. Yeah, you know he’s about to come, and yet, you can’t bear to tear yourself off his cock. He pulls you down flush against him with a groan and holds you there. His head falls back. His hips lift, and he pulses enormously inside you, sending you for your second time. You whine “Oh, God,” as you clench around him. And he moans, lifting his hips into you with each rope. Then you cut his moan off with your lips on his, and he groans into your mouth.

You sit on his lap with his cock still inside as you catch your breaths. Eventually, he gives your ass a squeeze and says, “God I’m thirsty.”

You agree, and get off him. He hands you your beer and you take a long swig.

“I’m spent, pumpkin. Got too fuckin’ high. You tired?”

Yeah, you are.

“Alright, let’s take a nap and do that again,” he says.

And you stay.

A/N: I'm curious if anyone recognizes this situation, because it's based on a movie/scene that inspired the neighbor & drugs premise of night walks to begin with. I know where we're picking up from here thanks to @missannwinchester 👖 and still have many night walks ideas on the board from y'all, brewing and welcome.

TAGS

NW: @tehweeana@lokanda@blackvelveteen1339@cutesyscreenname@ele-meno-p lmk if i missed you

All joel: @ethanhoewke @silkiers @eiviea @evyiione @xdaddysprincessxx @queerly-anxiousus @chernayawidow @ambassadortotrilliusprime @not-a-unique-snowflake-blog @jasminespringtime @romanarose @fandomsfallnomore @djarinxore @lokanda

#night walks!joel #joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #creepy!joel #creepy!joel miller #toxicanonymity ☠️#night walks #nightwalks☠️#420 anon #cw dubcon

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sixosix · 7 months

Note

thinking of childhood friend lyney 🧘‍♀️ with a bit of possessive lyney 🧘‍♀️ like you've been by his and lynette's side for as long as he can remember you are his !! lynette kicks his shin everytime he dramatically leans on you after not seeing you for two hours

this isn't rlly written just a bunch of word vomit bc my brain is rotting anon i love you i love this bless you and your brain

Childhood friend Lyney unable to keep himself away from you because he just has to be there the way he’s always been…

Lynette tells you that she doesn’t see him turning that way if it weren’t for you—like Lyney’s brain got rewired to fit you in his life, and what an effect you had. Lynette is almost embarrassed having to go out in public, and Lyney follows you around like some lovesick puppy, momentarily forgetting about his significant reputation.

He’s the type to say, “Wow, I’m so honored you thought of me and ordered my favorite food. You know what it is? I love you so much.” And you’re like, “I was the one who introduced you to this dish.”

Please also think about the way it’s so natural for Lyney to curl up against you. Sitting on the couch? Lyney’s head is on your lap, either diligently practicing cards or listening as you read the book in your hands out loud. Or sleeping. He often argues that your warmth is the best comfort he could find himself sleeping in—and it just goes to show how comfortable he is with you.

You can just be standing, and Lyney will be there. He’d have his arms around your waist and his chin on your shoulder, watching silently as you flick through paperwork.

And that’s another thing: you’re one of the very few ones who witness Lyney when he isn’t blabbing his mouth trying to keep your attention on him. You’re one of the few who know that he’s much more quiet when he’s out of his leather gloves and top hat. He’s quieter, yes, but that doesn’t mean he isn’t draped over you somehow when he is. The quieter, the clingier.

Another thing is whenever anyone tries to talk to you, and god forbid tries anything, they’d suddenly be all too aware of Lyney’s eyes, and they start sweating. The magician usually keeps a friendly smile, but they’d see Lyney’s piercing gaze instead, as if daring anyone to come and take you from him. No one can. Lyney can be terrifying when he wants to be.

Everyone assumes that you’re dating when they see you and Lyney, which is exactly what he wants. No one would approach you with the intent of trying anything—they’d hate to mess with Lyney. Who knows what tricks he has up his sleeves???

It certainly doesn’t help that you spoil him rotten, too. If Lyney asks for a kiss, you’d kiss him all over his face and leave him a mess of a puddle. If Lyney asks for your attention, you’d cup his cheeks and look him right in the eye, often enough to leave him flustered—he can never get used to the way you look at him. You’re really the only one who can do that…

It’s like every time he sees you he falls a little harder. Which is hard to mess with because there’s nothing he loves more than his eyes and hands on you. Like puzzle pieces.

Lyney doesn’t even remember the exact moment you became a part of his life. It was like he could look back and just picture you laughing by his side, and the numerous times he thought to himself that he wouldn’t ever let you go. (and he never did actually lol)

#UGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHGGHGGH #this fuckedme up #i didnt wanna write a full blown fic cus im working on something similar to this #sixosix #lyney x reader #lyney imagines

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section-chief-prentiss · 24 days

Text

Love Story Part Two

PART ONE

Note: Thank you to the kind anon who suggested this; I had so much fun writing it! I hope you enjoy!

Summary: Follow-up to “Love Story,” in which you and Emily tell the team you’re engaged.

Pairing: Emily Prentiss/Reader

Word Count: 1214

Ao3

Your first day back at the BAU, you and Emily wore matching black pantsuits. The only differences in your outfits were the blouses you wore underneath—Emily wore purple, and you wore red.

It hadn’t been intentional, but when you came out of the bathroom to find Emily in a variation of the outfit you had put on, you both laughed and decided to embrace it.

“Rings on or off?” you asked, admiring the sparkling band around your finger.

“On, but be subtle about it,” she winked. “Stick to the plan.”

Like so many things, your fiancee was right when she said you’d miss work by the end of your vacation.

Though seven uninterrupted days with Emily, spent either in your hotel room or on the beach, were utterly blissful, as your trip neared its end, you couldn’t help but wonder what was happening back home. Thinking about all of the people who needed your help.

On the nearly 10-hour flight back to DC, you kept yourselves preoccupied by debating how you’d tell the team about your engagement. Neither of you had told them what you’d planned, and you looked forward to surprising them.

When it came to working with profilers, surprises were difficult to come by.

“Should we see how long it takes them to notice?” you’d giggled. “Just say nothing and wait for them to see the rings?”

Emily smiled. “Tempting, but you know Spence or Pen would sniff them out immediately.”

“Mm, good point,” you conceded.

“I actually have an idea,” Emily said, wagging her eyebrows mischievously.

You leaned forward in your seat to grab her hand, “Tell me.”

“What are you thinking about?” Em asked, pulling you out of your memories.

“You,” you said, pecking a kiss against her lips. “Ready?”

Emily offered you your briefcase, holding hers in her other hand. “Don’t forget your prop.”

“Never,” you said, taking the accessory from your fiancee.

The drive to the BAU was shorter than you remembered. You were excited to reunite with your friends and tell them about your trip. Neither you nor Emily were particularly close with your families, so telling the team—your chosen family—would make the engagement feel real.

You held hands on the elevator ride to the sixth floor—your legs shook with excitement and anticipation, but holding on to your fiancee kept you steady.

When the doors parted, you half-expected to find the team waiting for you on the other side, but you were relieved to find the hallway empty.

A few steps forward revealed the team gathered around Spencer’s desk in the bullpen. You and Emily nodded at each other once, moving your briefcases to your left hands, and walked slowly to join your team.

As you approached, you both slouched to your left side, seemingly struggling with your completely empty briefcases.

Penelope was the first to spot you, grinning as soon as you made eye contact. “You’re back!”

Spencer looked up from the book he was reading and jumped to his feet, JJ standing just over his shoulder. In front of them, Rossi and Morgan turned around to face you.

Morgan, picking up on your strange walking immediately, frowned. “Why are you walking like that?”

Emily stepped in front of you. “Derek, can you help me?”

He jumped forward, reaching for Em’s briefcase, and Rossi reached for yours. You both handed off the bags and shook your shoulders out.

“I’m having a hard time lifting things with this big rock on my hand,” Emily bragged.

Just as you’d practiced, you both held up your left hands, letting the light bounce off the diamonds.

Rossi and Morgan dropped the empty bags, and Penelope was in front of you in the blink of an eye, both of her hands holding yours.

“What?” Penelope screeched at a decibel that seemed high enough to cause hearing damage.

“Surprise, we’re engaged!” You sang.

Hotch, alerted by the sudden screaming, peeked out from his office to find the team talking over each other. Frowning, he jogged down the steps into the bullpen and held up a hand.

“What’d I miss?”

“We’re engaged,” Emily said, grabbing your hand.

Hotch’s lips turned up in a rare smile. “Congratulations!”

“You have to tell us everything,” JJ insisted, taking your hand and dragging you toward the round-table room.

“Give them a chance to sit down,” Hotch called from the back of the pack. Just behind you, Spencer was dragging Emily along, and the rest of the team followed.

You took your usual seats around the round table, noting how rare it was to feel joy within these particular four walls. But you didn’t mind changing the association with the room where you spent so much of your time, and the engagement story spilled out of you, Emily filling in the gaps where her part of the story differed.

“And then Emily got down on her knees and proposed,” you said, smiling at the memory.

“And then, Y/N got down on her knees and proposed,” Emily said, leaning over to kiss your cheek.

“You proposed at the same time?” Spencer asked, glancing between you.

You nodded, and Penelope threw her hands in the air.

“Both of you proposed, and neither of you told me before you left?!”

“Pen, you’re not exactly known for your secret-keeping,” Emily hedged.

“Name one example,” she protested.

“Last month you told Henry what you were getting him for Christmas,” JJ said, crossing her arms over her chest.

Penelope flushed. “I can’t help it; I got too excited!”

That earned a laugh from the room. The group broke off into separate conversations, and JJ pulled you in for another round of questions, when something flashed in the corner of your eye, claiming your attention.

As soon as you turned your head, several of your team members threw their hands under the table, and you frowned.

“What’s going on?” you asked.

“Nothing,” Morgan said a little too quickly.

Emily squinted at the four men—Hotch, Rossi, Morgan, and Spencer—who were doing their best not to return eye contact.

Eventually, as you knew he would, Spencer broke, putting his hands on the table to reveal money in them.

“Fine, we had a bet that you’d come back from your trip engaged,” Spencer said.

“And I won, thank you very much,” Morgan winked, collecting his earnings from the other men.

Your jaw dropped, and you turned your attention to Hotch. “Hotch, you too?”

He shrugged. “It seemed like easy money. But since we all agreed you would come back engaged, the bet came down to which day you’d propose on. Morgan was closest; he guessed day one.”

“I guessed day seven,” Spencer grumbled.

“Day six,” Rossi sighed.

“Day four,” Hotch said.

Emily rolled her eyes, and you threw your hands up in frustration. “Really, guys? Is nothing sacred?”

“We have a second bet going about how long before you get married; you want in?” Spencer asked.

“No!” you said.

But next to you, your fiancee said, “Yeah!” at the same time.

You turned to her with one eyebrow raised.

“Really, Emily?”

“Why not?” She laughed.

“Actually, I’ll take that bet,” JJ said.

“Me too!” Pen added.

The room looked at you expectantly, and you knew that you wouldn’t win this battle, so you sighed.

“Fine, I’m in.”

Tag List: @yena-reyna, @propertyofemilyprentiss, @chaekhan Join my tag list!

#criminal minds #fanfiction #emily prentiss #paget brewster #pagetbrewster #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds imagine #emily prentiss x reader

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kelcemenow · 3 months

Text

Drive Me Crazy - Chapter 6.

Pairing Travis Kelce x Reader

Words 1438

Warnings Strong language, the intention of violence and a whole heap of protective Travis!

Huge thank you to the Anon who sent this in! They had such amazing words to say about my writing which I massively appreciate and then to top it off, had an incredible request for me! I only have experience with mechanics in the UK, so I’ve tried my best with this one! “I just recently got interested in Travis K. X reader stories and wanted to let you know, I read all of yours as quickly as I could. They are so well done and I couldn’t help but laugh/giggle and feel through each word you typed out. You’re doing amazing and I’m so glad to have stumbled onto your page. If you have any space for a request, I’d be curious about what Trav would think about having a military (like fighter pilot) or engineer or mechanic girlfriend. I see a lot of stories with him paired with models/singers/social media individuals (which are phenomenal!) but just wondering how he would be with a more tomboy like girlfriend!”

CHAPTER 5

CHAPTER 6

"Who's Jordan?"

You winced as you rose from the bed, grabbing your deep red satin robe from the corner of your door, "He works at the shop with me."

"Okay?" Travis said, his voice indicating confusion.

"I don't know why he's here." You mumbled quickly as your fingers fumbled with the ties, "He must be wasted."

Travis held himself up with an elbow, watching carefully as you stepped towards your front door. The cool hardwood flooring gave your skin a slight sting as your feet made contact. You paused for a second, your hand ghosting the handle, before pulling the door open.

Jordan was leaning against the wall, his head lowered to the floor, his balance unsteady. You glanced over your shoulder and looked to Travis, rolling your eyes and shrugging your shoulders quickly.

"Jordan?" You said impatiently.

His head quickly snapped up to meet your gaze, his expression vacant, "Hey, you took ages." His slurred speech was enough to confirm your suspicions.

You took a small step forward, holding the door open with your foot, "What are you doing here?"

"I was out...at a bar. And I lost my phone so I couldn't call a cab."

"You want to use my phone?" You pointed your thumb over your shoulder.

Jordan sloppily adjusted his messy, brown hair before reaching out for your hand, "Or I could...stay here?"

"I don't think that's a good idea." You retreated away from his grasp.

His eyebrows grew closer together, his confusion clear, "Oh come on...don't play me like that."

"I'm not playing you like anything, Jordan." You smiled politely and confidently stepped towards the door to block the entrance way, "I think you should go."

Jordan stumbled as he took a step, his eyelids drooping, "All this time... you've been flirting, leading me on-"

"Woah, that's not true." You held your palm up as Jordan grew closer, "We're friends, remember?"

Jordan's face twisted, his head swaying from side to side, "Are you fucking serious? I thought we were...you know? You...you let me crash here?"

"One time, Jordan. Because I didn't want you to drive home after 12 beers."

His hand grazed your hip, "You flirt with me...at work...and shit...now you're-"

An anger was beginning to build up in your chest, "Jordan, we're friends."

"Girls don't have friends that are guys!" He said with a short laugh.

"I do."

"You watched as "Yeah, well. You're not a normal girl, are you?"

"A...normal girl?" You failed to hide the hurt in your voice.

Jordan, unaware of his poor choice of words, sighed before muffling his next incoherent sentence, "Yeah, a normal girl. You know what I mean? You don't make an effort or anything, you don't wear heels or nice dresses...like, it's fine-"

"Jordan, stop."

"But, I know you. No one knows you like I do. We would be perfect." He closed the gap between you, "And I mean, I don't see any other guys knocking at your door." He exhaled an arrogant laugh, his tongue placed firmly in his cheek.

You rolled your eyes slightly, not enough for him to notice and heard Travis moving softly in the bed. As you checked over your shoulder, Jordan followed your gaze, his demeanour immediately changing.

"Shit. That's fucking...Travis Kelce." Jordan shook his head as a small laugh escaped his lips, "You've got to be kidding me."

"Okay, time to leave."

"Are you fucking kidding me?" Jordan repeated, his voice louder.

As you pulled the door inwards in an attempt to close it, Jordan struck the surface with his elbow, forcing his way inside. Travis immediately leapt out of the bed, quickly making his way to your rescue. You noticed that he had already put his boxers back on, presumably anticipating his interference.

"Alright, buddy." Travis said calmly, replacing your hand on the door with his own.

Jordan seemed to cower in Travis' presence, shrinking in size figurately and quite literally. His cool and loose physicality switched for stiff and hunched shoulders but his intoxicated brain couldn't stop his mouth.

"Hey. I'm not your buddy." He retorted.

Travis smiled at you before turning back to Jordan, "The lady said no. She would like to leave, so why don't you be on your way."

His stern words sounded more like an order than a question and your heart gently fluttered as you watched your knight in shining armour defending your honour. Your emotions quickly flipped to dread as Jordan puffed his chest up and took a couple of woozy steps towards Travis.

"So, you think you can just muscle your way in, getting her tickets and sending her flowers, why? Because you're famous or something? Look, if you just want to fuck the girl, why are you going through all of this effort? Is she really worth it?"

Your chest quickly stung and a redness was flushing to your cheeks. A part of your brain knew it was the alcohol talking, but it still pained you to hear these words coming from someone who you considered to be a friend.

Suddenly, Jordan's hands were pressed against Travis' solid chest, shoving him slightly backwards.

"Jordan? What are you doing?" You hissed.

Your widened eyes quickly flashed to Travis, who did not seem phased at all. Instead, he simply rubbed his beard down and cleared his throat, keeping eye contact with Jordan.

"I don't think you've thought this through. You see, you have two options. Either you keep at me and I end up throwing your sorry ass out of this apartment building, possibly ruining any remaining self-respect and friendship with Y/N that you got left." Travis' gruff voice was clear and concise, it was more than enough to turn you on. "Or, you turn away and leave now, deal with a killer of a hangover in the morning and arrange an apology in the way of a delicious meal at a very expensive restaurant for my girl here." He nudged your arm with his as you looked up at him through your eyelashes, you mouth gaping open in absolute awe.

Jordan stayed still, processing Travis' words before his head rolled backwards and a loud sigh left his lips, "Fucking...whatever, bro."

He started to turn away but Travis spoke up with a deep growl, "Hey. I'm not your bro."

Jordan's eyes flashed slightly with fear, before half closing as he stumbled away from you both. You stood in silence as you watched him disappear into the stairwell, the door clanging behind him.

You exhaled loudly, not realising that you had been holding your breath for a significant length of time. You felt as if your legs were about to give up on you, but before they had the chance, Travis' arms were enveloping you and bringing you impossibly close to him.

"Are you okay?" He said into your neck, your hair marginally muffling his words.

Your fingers began to graze the stubble on the back of his head, your face buried in his chest, "Oh yeah, I'm fine. That shit happens all of the time."

Travis pulled you away and held you at an arms length, his eyes lowered in concern, "For real?"

"Travis, I'm joking." You smiled, "Just trying to lighten the mood?" You shrugged your shoulder which were still held firmly in his large hands.

His eyes creased into a smile, "Oh baby, I can think of a better way to do that."

His voice growled again, making your knees weaken as he leaned in to gently place a kiss on you forehead. Your feet were swiftly swept up from underneath you and Travis carried you impressively towards your bedroom, your legs instinctively wrapping themselves around his waist. Your surroundings darkened as you entered the bedroom and Travis gave your ass a gentle squeeze as he lowered himself onto the edge of the bed. You bent your knees and straddled his waist, ending up face to face with him.

Your hands moved to cradle the sides of his jaw, "Thank you."

The corners of his full lips barely raised into a smile, but his eyes glittered, "No problem."

You could feel his hands clinging to your back, his fingers tracing circles into the satin fabric that was covering you. A small shiver rolled over your body and you took your bottom lip between your teeth. Travis' eyes flickered to your mouth and his eyebrows raised.

"Did that turn you on?" He said with a surprise.

You rolled your hips a little, "Maybe. I don't know? I just felt...protected."

Travis' mouth moved into a wide grin, as he breathed a laugh, "Hey. I got no issue with that."

______________________________________________________________

As per unusual, I whole-heartedly apologise for the wait on this one. I'm still feeling a little bit of a writing slump and I'm finding everything really hard to get going...I really hope it doesn't show! The next chapter will be the reader going to the Chiefs game and her Dad being absolutely adorable so I am actually looking forward to that one! If anyone has any ideas for this story, please feel free to throw them my way! As always, let me know if you want to be added to my Taglist and any comments or reblogs are always much appreciated!

Taglist @rd14 @dandelionwrites8 @keiva1000 @fantasywritersstuff @caelipartem @anacarangel @she-lives-in-her-dreams @kkrenae @kristencochefski1125 @countrygirl120983 @charmed2000 @nouis-bum @cixrosie @delicateearthquakellama @wordsaresimple-imnot @amylouwho9 @queenisa17 @talicat713 @luvvtrent @purecinnamonextract @savaneafricaine @caelipartem @beyxgrande @caitdaniels @ezgirl1108 @vir-tual @lightsoutstyles @macey234 @s294749w @kelcemesoftly @calirindo @livinginmyfantasies @bernelflo @secretmywritingfictionlawyer @killatravtramp @there-goes-thefighter @unicornblueberry @calirindo @tjkelce87 @kristinamae093 @kmc1989 @ajbird18 @triski73 @ctn26 @kgcaputo07 @abby-splace @bobthe-turmpetman29 @cedricbitch @abby-splace @jmamas92 @bellstwd @killatravsworld @marchmaiden @chimchimmarie @blackstabbath6 @fanficfanatic15 @jessiemariebarnes @mmb219 @vanwritesfan-fiction @futebollover @ks-dreams-fantasies @laurenmcucm @blackstabbath6 @nickie-amore @fictionqueen87 @munsonburner666 @hornyavengers @spookystitchery @powellssaturn

#travis kelce x reader #travis kelce imagine #kelce x reader #nfl imagine #original story #travis kelce fic #travis kelce #travis kelce fluff #nfl fluff #travis kelce smut #travis kelce angst #nfl smut #nfl angst #nfl fic #kelcemenow requests

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hannie-dul-set · 5 months

Text

PATIENCE, PATIENCE.

p — SIM JAEYUN x gn! reader. g — humor, fluff. w — swearing, making out, secondhand embarrassment aka the hannie-dul-set fic triumvirate + a good amount of public indecency. 1.5k words.

requested by — anon: cocky jock (who loses that cockiness around you) x reserved student librarian (who loses that cool because of him).

note — loosely inspired by a moment from the manhwa "unstoppable hayoung" ifykyk. in a prev fic i alluded beomgyu to a mosquito, in this one jake to a pest. i think i'm seeing a pattern here.

a pest has been following you for quite some time now.

“sim jaeyun.”

his name falls icy off your tongue, prefacing it with a sharp inhale yet the man in question is unfazed. he’s trespassing the barrier that’s preventing you from socking him in the face: the front desk of the library where he’s decided to prop his arms over, leaning into the surface, smiling oh-so-handsomely at you as if you aren’t politely telling him to fuck off with your eyes alone.

then again. you don’t really expect him to understand social cues.

“for the dozenth time, please leave me alone.”

so you verbalize your intent instead.

“i can’t do that, baby,” he replies. “not until you agree to go out with me.”

you suck in a deep huff of air, close your eyes, and dig your fingers into your thighs to ward away the distress.

“just one date. please?” he prods, nudging himself closer over the desk as if the scrawls of paper you’re trying to organize aren’t as important as his incessant badgering. “are you really going to keep saying no to this face?” the face in mention looks particularly punch-able right now. you’ve always taken pride in yourself for being a very patient, patient individual. jake sim from philosophy 102 is testing that patience.

“the library is for reading,” you say through gritted teeth. patience, patience, patience. you’re a daffodil on a breezy field, a piece of driftwood on a steady river. you will not fight a man in your workplace. you will keep your job and maintain inner peace.

“i am reading,” he argues. “i’m trying to read your mind because i don’t get why you don’t want to go out with me.”

holy crap. he’s insufferable.

“i’ve already told you dozens of times, jake.” now, you don’t know a thing or two about the ball sport he does, but that pink varsity jacket is starting to look abhorrent. it’s being shoved into your face the more he tries to throw himself over your desk. a bright jarring color, unsafe for the eyes. “i don’t want to go out with you. also, i’d appreciate if you stop ruining my work.”

one of the documents got wrinkled under his elbow. his mouth opens, “oh, sorry!” and he quickly backs off, ironing the sheet with his palms. “but at least tell me why you don’t want to go out with me. you keep rejecting me with a blank face but i don’t know why.”

your upper lip twitches.

because this is all because of a dare, that’s fucking why.

no, even that aside, the way he keeps arrogantly trying to hit on you, expecting you to just accept it and go is grinding your gears. you’re calm. you’re usually calm. but something about this guy just pushes all your buttons in one go, makes you spew out bullshit you’d never dare yourself to say to anyone else.

“hey,” your rouse. “can you kiss me right now?”

two can play at that game, bitch.

it works. it works really well because jake is suddenly as pink as his jacket. well, you don’t blame him. the library isn’t safe from gross, hormonal activities, but those are usually done in between the shelves— not at the front desk near the entrance.

you’re mimicking his stance, leaned forward, arms crossed over the desk and all. “like— like a peck on the cheek?” he stutters.

“no. like tongue in mouth kissing me like a starved man and it’s your last meal on death row,” you clarify. it’s funny how you can see his brain circuits crashing in real time. serves him right. you let out a breath and stand up, seeing the clock tick closer to your break. you quickly gather your things and circle out from behind the desk, now in cross-armed disappointment next to your persistent pest. “this is why i don’t want to go out with you, jake. you don’t even have feelings for me. you’re doing this because your friends told you to, and i don’t—”

suddenly, you feel something soft on your lips.

suddenly, your knees are weak, your mind is fuzzy, and you’re exchanging spit with jake sim in the library lobby.

wait, you gasp into his mouth and he responds with a grunt. wait, your eyelids flutter, air knocked out of your chest that’s somehow now pressed against his because wait— this wasn’t supposed to go this way.

how dare he actually do what you told him to? how dare he give you the best damn kiss you’ll ever have in your life?

“what the fuck?” you breathe out in intermittent huffs, hands on his chest as you pull yourself back. jake’s hazy eyes are looking at you in a way that makes your brain jump in circles, coupled by the arm that he has looped around your lower back. he’s crazy. he’s fucking crazy. “why— why would you do that?!”

“you told me to kiss you!”

“and you did?!”

your eyes widen at the volume of your own voice, quickly slapping a hand over your swollen lips, but making noise is at the bottom of your library sins today. you see your supervisor’s attention on you from the corner of your eye, and your face flushes. “why would you go this far for a dare?” you say in a quieter voice, still manic, still frantic, and jake flinches hard when you jab a finger to his chest. “you’re nuts, you’re actually nuts, oh my god—”

“wait, what do you mean dare?” your finger seems to be hurting him because he grabs your wrist and brings your hand down. “a dare? a dare to do what?”

you seethe. “don’t play dumb with me, jake. overheard you and your little soccer friends last time—”

“it’s football—”

“i don’t care.” your voice is getting louder again. jake flinches once more. “the problem here is you keep asking me out to date you because your soccer friends are betting on who can bed the quiet library assistant first and— and i’m not going to play dumb just because you’re a good kisser. i’m angry and disgusted and—”

“do you mind continuing your argument outside?”

your mouth is hanging open, paused mid-speech. when you peer to your left, you see that your supervisor has teleported right next to you. oh, god. there goes your job. jake apologizes for the both of you and skews your frozen figure out the door. you’re screwed. your patience could handle six months at starbucks and three months babysitting three toddlers, but i cannot handle one sim jaeyun.

“so,” the perpetrator’s voice snaps you back to reality. you’re both now outside the library, and he’s looking at you with a smugness that begs a kick to the balls. “you think i kiss good.”

your face bitters. “is that your only takeaway from all that?”

“no,” he shakes his head. “i also got that you’re rightfully mad at me for something i have to clear up.”

here we go. you’re curious to see what excuses he’ll make, how many sorry’s he’ll impart, and if he’ll get down on his knees. jake. but his starting words aren’t what you’re hoping for. “there isn’t a bet,” he starts. “my teammates were just trying to tease me because i didn’t have the balls to ask you out. dumb, i know, but they were dumber because they were all like, ‘if you don’t make a move soon, we will, blah, blah, blah’ to provoke me so—”

jake is matching his varsity jacket again.

“long story short, i made them run fifteen laps and decided to get it over with by asking you out on a date.”

you’re brought back to the first instance jake had asked you out— it was in the lecture hall, right after class, and he was wearing the same pink jacket that at this point seems like his second skin. the color isn’t as jarring as you initially thought.

“but rejection didn’t feel nice. so i thought i’d try again.”

you narrow your eyes. “again, as in like, eight times?”

“you counted?” he muses. you are unamused. he clears his throat and continues. “you’re always so calm and collected, but your eyebrows would furrow and your face would scrunch up whenever i threw you the question. it’s cute. i got addicted. you can’t pin all the blame on me.”

you let his words simmer, and with each passing second of silence jake grows more nervous, fidgeting in wait. you decide to spare him the agony, letting out a deep and heavy sigh. “okay. you’re forgiven.”

it’s instantaneous how his face lights up. now, you’re the one flinching.

“nice! does that mean we’re dating now? can i kiss you again?”

“now hold on,” you stop him, mildly appalled, mostly flustered. “i said i forgive you. i never said we can start making out in a public area again.”

he bats his eyes at you. “in private then?”

you want to hit him. you want to hit him so bad. sim jaeyun is the pest that has been following you for quite some time now. you fear that at this point, there’s no getting rid of him now.

#enhypen x reader #enha x reader #enhypen jake x reader #sim jaeyun x reader #jake sim x reader #enhypen scenarios #enha scenarios #sim jaeyun scenarios #jake sim scenarios #enhypen imagines #enhypen x you #sim jaeyun x you #jake sim x you

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transmascissues · 5 months

Note

holy crap dude, i only sent that anon because this blog is called “transmascissues” and “parents reacting way too personally” is not a transmasc issue, it’s a trans issue. “moms react with crying” and dads react with violence? what is your point? do you REALLY think that the difference in experience between transmascs and transfems are THAT different??? why do the details matter when the reasoning is the same? i am a trans man and i know exactly what you’re talking about. i just think it’s weird that you are basically saying trans guys have it worse. you’re literally ONLY focused on your own experiences and u assume youre the only one who’s gone through something like that?

jesus fucking christ…

alright, let’s do this fast so i can go back to living my life.

if you think this is about something as simple and general as “parents reacting way too personally,” you clearly don’t understand exactly what i’m talking about, even if you are a trans man. maybe if you actually read what i’m saying instead of just looking for anything in it that you can get mad at, you’d have a better understanding of what i’m referring to.

“why do the details matter” so you do understand that the details are different and you just think we shouldn’t be allowed to talk about them? that’s…somehow even worse, honestly. do you really think the way transphobia is enacted makes no difference if the intent is the same? do you really think trans people should never want to express their specific experiences and find people who relate? do you think the details don’t change the emotional experience for the person being targeted at all? do you think victims of transphobia shouldn’t be allowed to seek out people who were victimized in the same specific way and who understand that emotional experience? the details absolutely matter.

where did i say this being different from what transfems typically experience means we have it worse? i’ll give you a hint: the answer is nowhere. i didn’t say that. i have never once said on this blog that anyone has it worse than anyone else because i think that’s a ridiculous way to talk about basically any issue.

god forbid i talk about my own experiences. god forbid i make posts about the things being directed to me in my own home by my own family. god forbid i have a real life and real emotions and exist as a real person not just a robot that spits out impersonal theory. i’m talking about my experiences because they’re the ones i live with every day. you might be able to come on here and get mad at me and then go about your day, but when i log off i’m just going back to the exact transphobia i described, so yeah, i’m focused on it. fucking sue me.

if you send me anything else you owe me $50 per second i waste on reading it because this is getting exhausting and you obviously have no interest in actually listening to me.

#anon hate #ask answered #examples of transandrophobia #transandrophobia

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writemekpop · 7 months

Text

Bad Boy | Lee Taeyong

Summary: Bad boy Taeyong whisks you away in the middle of the night... not that you're complaining

Genre: Strangers to lovers, suggestive

Word count: <1k, Gif @romanofs-nat

“Y/n, can you hurry up?” Karina says, her voice getting higher with stress as you walk home at night, arms full of Urban Outfitters bags. “There are weird guys around!”

You turn to follow her gaze to the alleyway, and see a tall man leaning on a gleaming motorcycle. Snake tattoos curl around his hard brown forearms.

Electricity jumps through you when your eyes meet his. He doesn’t look turned on by you, or even curious. He looks faintly bored, as if he’s been waiting for you to show up.

“Is that guy looking at me?” you whisper, your feet slowing.

Karina grabs your hand. “Oh god, no. Please tell me you’re not gonna talk to him.”

“It’s only gonna take a second,” you mumble as you approach him.

“Damn it! I’m not rescuing you!” you hear Karina yell.

“My friend seems to think you’re dangerous,” you say breathlessly. “I’m Y/n.” You eye his powerful veined forearms. Maybe Karina was right to be scared.

“I’m Taeyong,” he replies. “Don’t worry. I’m no danger to you. I only eat people who are rude to me.”

“You obviously stole that line from Hannibal,” you say, laughing. Although you are laughing, a tiny part of you wonders if he’s telling the truth. Your throat goes dry.

Taeyong raises his eyebrows. “Wow. I get a lot of things, but laughter isn’t one of them.”

“No really, what are you even doing here?” you ask.

Taeyong shrugs. “Just guarding the entrance to that doorway. I’ve had a woman locked up in there for five years.

You roll your eyes. “I’ve read Room. Jesus, your horror’s a little mainstream.”

“You’re kinda mean, Y/n,” Taeyong says.

Suddenly, he reaches into his pocket and pulls out something glinting and silver.

You jump back, a shriek flying from your lips. You’re such an idiot. Taeyong is about to attack you. Of course he is. Then you see what he’s holding. It’s not a knife… it’s a pocket mirror. Taeyong is looking into it intently, smoothing out his dark eyebrows with his thumbs. “Oh, Y/n. So scared, just like all the others. People like you can’t handle people like me.” You cross your arms, infuriated by his smug smile. “Oh, you think you’re so much harder than me?” you say. You snatch the mirror from him, checking out your makeup. “I’m not afraid of you. What if I told you I had tattoos, too?” Taeyong frowns, eyeing your bare skin. “Where?”

You look straight in his eyes. “One on my shoulder, one not on my shoulder… and one really not on my shoulder.”

Taeyong gulps.

“How about you come to my place… and I show you?” you murmur, hopping onto the motorcycle and revving the engine.

Taeyong looks down at the floor. “Um… sorry for all the stuff I said. I was just bluffing. I don’t usually… get this far with girls.” You grin. “Don’t worry, honey. I’ll take good care of you.” You pat the back of the seat.

Taeyong nods, glassy eyed, and gets on the back of his own motorcycle. “Who are you? Where did you come from?” he mumbles.

“Oh sweetie,” you say, as you drive off. “Don’t worry about that. What matters is where I’m about to take you.”

—

MAIN MASTERLIST

Let us know what you thought in the comments or on anon! 💋

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cupidskissx · 4 months

Note

Thanks for the fics! Are you thinking about writing something Christmassy? If you use this ask for that, I wouldn't care...lol

kisses and happy new year

Hello sweet anon,

Happy belated Christmas to you and those that celebrate!

I started this yesterday with no intention or direction whatsoever. By some Christmas miracle it’s the first thing I’ve “finished” in 6 months. I hope you enjoy ~1k of something for you ❤️🎄

***

When Max’s phone vibrated on the glass-top table the last thing he expected to see when he turned it over was a notification from Charles Leclerc.

Merry Christmas 🎅

He stared at the simple message, unsure what to make of it. They hadn’t spoken since before Max missed their padel game — his previous one line apology left unanswered.

Twisting his wrist, he checked the time and did the calculation. He frowned, it would be past midnight in Monaco, he couldn’t reply and wish him a happy Christmas now.

He picked up his phone and excused himself from the conversation. He walked inside while opening Charles’ contact and clicking call. Max didn’t know why he felt so compelled to speak to him, but it was too late now, he was closing the door to the guest bedroom when Charles answered.

“Hey,” a muted rustle followed Charles’ greeting, likely him rolling over in his covers.

“Hey,” Max sat on the end of the bed. “How was your Christmas?” Max asked.

“Nice, how was yours?”

“Yeah, nice,” Max didn’t know what else to say, maybe calling wasn’t the best idea.

“That’s good,” Charles stifled a yawn, then he asked, “How’s Brazil?”

“Hot. How’s Monaco?”

“Chilly.”

“Checks out.”

“When do you get home?” Charles changed the subject, taking Max by surprise that he’d want to bother keeping up their stilted conversation.

“Err, in a couple of days.”

“We should catch up before I head to Maranello.”

“Really, why? Have you missed me?” Max joked.

“A bit. Which is weird.”

Charles was kidding, surely, Max was the one who was left on read, “How much did you have to drink today, mate?” Max laughed, until he registered Charles’ mumbled response.

“Not enough.”

Oh. Max laid back on the bed and stared at the crack running through the plasterboard ceiling.

“I guess I just miss racing,” Charles clarified, now that is something Max can relate to. He supposed he missed Charles too, in the same way he missed Sunday morning briefings. Because setting the strategy meant driving, and driving meant racing and racing had always meant Charles. Except Charles didn’t only mean racing. Not anymore.

“I really am sorry I missed that game.”

“No you’re not,” Charles was the one to laugh that time.

“Okay, not the match so much, but I am sorry that I let you down.”

Charles was quiet for a long moment, “How’s Kelly’s family?”

Max closed his eyes. “Most of them are drunk and diving into the pool, not the best combination.”

“No, not the best.”

“How’s your family? How’s Arthur, I heard he lost his seat?”

Charles rustled on his end of the line again, “Yeah, he’ll be okay, but it’s still shit. We tried not to talk racing at dinner and that helped.”

“And your mum?” Max asked. The vision of Pascale in his mind was still the one he formed at karting tracks when they were young. When Max was shorter than her and she’d bring a pack lunch in a wicker picnic basket, an old thermos full of coffee never far from reach. One miserable afternoon in Italy she’d let Max hold it to warm his hands while they waited for the rain to clear.

“She’s good,” Charles answered, “Having us all home together makes her happy.”

“Because she can keep an eye on all of you at once for a change?”

“Yeah, definitely,” Charles sounded like he was smiling, Max wouldn’t have sounded much different when he replied.

“My mum is the same, she’ll pop her head in to my room at 6am just to watch me sleep.”

“Mum has definitely walked into whichever room I’m in to make sure I haven’t evaporated if I’m quiet for too long.”

“Typical mums,” Max rolled his eyes fondly at the same time Charles said: “I guess we’re the lucky ones.”

“Yeah, we are,” Max agreed because Charles had a way of making him more honest with himself.

“Will you go see Sophie for Christmas?”

“I’m flying up after New Year’s.”

“So you’ll be in Monaco for New Year’s Eve?”

“If everything goes to plan. Will you?”

“Yeah, I don’t leave until the 3rd. You should come over, I’m doing a small get together, nothing crazy.”

“I’ll check and let you know.”

“Good.”

“And if I can’t make it?”

“Then I guess I’ll see you when the season starts.”

Max’s heart performed a peculiar acrobatic act against his ribcage. “You won’t be home in between?”

“Not really.”

“Well I suppose I do owe you a game before you leave, if it can’t be New Year’s.”

Charles all but giggled on his end of the line, “So now you want to play?”

Max opened his mouth, the words: no, I want to see you nearly tumbled out but he caught them before he had to think too hard about what they meant. “I wanna beat you,” he said instead.

“Naturally. We’ll see,” Charles said but Max didn’t appreciate the open-endedness.

“Afraid for a little one-on-one, we both know Tom carried you last time.”

“You talk big game for someone who lost.”

“Guess there’s only one way to—” there was a single knock on the bedroom door before it creaked open, “I better let you go.”

“Oh, okay, yeah, see you soon then.”

“Yeah, book a court and I’ll be there,” Max started to pull his phone away from his ear when he was called back.

“Max?” Charles asked, voice wavering.

“Yeah?” Max’s brow pinched as he kept his eyes focused on the ceiling. Not quite ready to sit up.

“Get ready to lose again.”

Max snorted, “Yeah, yeah, keep dreaming.”

“I will,” Charles was smiling again, “Night.”

“Night,” Max ended the call. He settled his smile into something less cheesy and pushed himself up onto his elbows to find himself alone in the room.

#what even is their dynamic here I don’t know you can decide #lestappen fic #lestappen #max verstappen #charles leclerc #mentions of Kelly Piquet #I guess I wasn’t over padel date 2.0 #Writing and Rambles

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lightlycareless · 2 months

Note

Heyy !!

I just wanted to request if you could write something about Naoya punishing us🤭😭 you can choose why he’s punishing us cuz I don’t have any ideas ;)

And like I was rereading some chapters of your fic with Naoya and omg like , your writing is really good I literally felt in a romance book , the way you wrote each character is amazing too and I just really appreciate your work I hope you will keep writing it 😭

Heya anon!!

Of course!!! I actually had to think a bit as to how he'd punish us... or more like how I would write it, since these are two things I'm not really that experienced with yet (Naoya is always rough, I mean, when does it become a punishment? or so that's my perception lol)

But I eventually settled with something I wanted to try :) I feel like Naoya would really love doing something like this when he's not that involved with you (He's busy lmao)

Anyways, here are the warnings: slight exhibitionism? One of Naoya's brother's got very unlucky. Use of vibrators, plugs, or so. kind of dub-con if you think about it, Naoya is also a manipulator, you're an enabler. Minors DNI!!!

Now, without further a do, happy reading!

“Y/N, are you… alright?” After much debate, a member of your staff member, Mariya, says after silently observing the rising fluster of your cheeks or the slightest hesitation in your usually nimble hands.

“Ye—yeah.” You murmur, taking breath and exhaling. “I’m just overwhelmed, that’s all.”

“Oh, are you sure you don’t want to take a break?” she suggests, which you deny almost immediately by shaking your head.

“No, I just—I’ll be fine.” You insist, and Mariya begrudgingly lets you continue, attempting her best to move past her concern and focus on her duties.

But when she sees you struggle on the simplest of tasks yet again, she’s quickly reminded that more than helping you complete your duties, she’s there to ensure your well-being; so, after relegating part of your responsibilities to nearby staff, and essentially forcing you to accept this change, Mariya leads you onto your bedroom, intending to let you rest and recover—

Until bumping onto Naoya on the way there, who after taking a quick glance at your dismayed appearance, immediately relieves Mariya of her obligations and takes you to the bedroom himself.

A gesture she takes with great elation, glad that your husband had always been attentive to you—no doubt in her mind that you’re in much better hands now…

If only he weren’t the reason behind your ailment.

“So much for holding decorum, my love…” he says upon firmly closing the door behind him. A tone so threatening, you quickly turn around to face him and spew out your defense.

“Naoya—I wasn’t—Mariya didn’t—” you gasp.

“No, I get it.” He says. “She’s your friend, your loyal companion, someone that gives you security. Were you intending to gang up on me with her, perhaps? Use her to avoid the inevitable?”

“What? N—no…!” you fretted, he closes the distance between the two. “Nao—ya—”

“On the futon—now.”

You obey immediately, making your way over to the futon and taking a seat just by the edge, fingers fidgeting amongst with other before mustering enough courage to glance up to him, flinching when seeing the smirk on his face, the indication his following acts would be nothing but etched with dark intentions—

Something you were nothing but fearful, and unprepared to face.

“You know what you ought to be doing, princess” Naoya says as he walks over to you. You try your best to move away from him, far and safe from his retribution…

But too deep into your own terror, all you could do instead is whimper as you remained there, anxiously taking in the scrutinizing way his eyes scan your body.

If he noticed the result of such struggle, he did not say. Yet, it wouldn’t take much to guess that your reaction, far from offending him, would only excite him.

“Don’t act all innocent now, it’s unbefitting of a whore like you.” He frowns. “Do not make me repeat myself.’

Pushing through the fear and embarrassment your following actions were to provide, your hands carefully grip the edges of your kimono skirt and lift it, effectively revealing the culprit behind your shaky morning, a sight that makes Naoya’s satisfaction grow, kneeling to your level so he could get a better look at the situation you’ve gotten yourself in—

All because you were a needy princess for attention.

Filling your cunt, was a vibrator that had been diligently working the moment Naoya placed it within you early in the morning—faithfully keeping you company throughout your various duties while he cruelly played with its settings from afar.

He’d either give you a false sense of comfort by lowering the vibrations, almost undetectable, enough to allow your mind to dwell onto other matters… before reminding you of your naivety by rising it to the maximum and forcing you onto disconcerting consequences.

There was no way Naoya knew where you were, or whom you were with when alternating between settings, but you wouldn’t put it beneath him to have found a way to do so—specially with what happened earlier: to the moment you were pushed dangerously close to the edge, a simple matter of enduring few more seconds of stimulation before coming undone—

And right before one of his brothers, the most innocent of all: Naofumi.

At that, you couldn’t help but suspect Naoya knew what you were doing all along, carefully planning the moment where Naofumi would naturally worry if you were ok, if you’ve perhaps been struck with an unprecedented sickness, and if there was something he could do to help you…

Before finally placing the pieces together the longer your heavy breathing went on, as the color in your cheeks deepened.

Once evident, Naofumi quickly excused himself and sprinted past the door, into the hallways and away from the scaring image of his sister-in-law having an orgasm right before him.

Oh, Naoya would’ve undoubtedly killed to see something like that.

But for now, he supposes he’ll do with what he has now.

“Fits you quite well, doesn’t it?” he says, fingers teasingly sliding across the edge of your lips, giving them a light pull and getting a better view of its lovely pink color, before licking his lips at the way your bud twitches, eventually refocusing on the other equally cruel part of this intricate arrangement:

A nicely fitting plug placed in your ass, capable of stimulating your greedy rim through various vibrations, yet decorated with a beautiful shiny pink jewel—because a desperate princess like you still deserved only the nicest.

“I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to satisfy your needy holes, but of course, my beautiful wife can never disappoint.”

Unless, of course, when you did.

“Naoya—” you whine, invertedly pushing your hips into his touch, crying when he pulls away. “Naoya please—”

“Are you serious?” He laughs, as if he couldn’t find your behavior any more amusing. “Didn’t you have enough today? You still want more?”

“I want—I want you—” you breathe, trying to rub your legs together, his hands stop you.

“Of course you do, slut.” Naoya spats. “Can’t get enough of that can you? It’s how you got into this situation, after all—because like the desperate whore you are, you always have to be looking for someone to fuck you.”

“No— No Naoya.” You frantically shake your head, before trying your best to reach for him—Naoya pushes you back. “I only want you!”

“That’s not what it looked like that day.” He growls, releasing his grasp over you, soon hearing his pants unfastening—the sight and sound sends a jolt of heat towards your cunt, making you clench in eagerness. “Don’t lie to me!”

“I would never��ah!” Naoya shuts you by landing his hand against your cunt, a loud slap and a stinging aftermath leaving you to ponder on your supposed lies. “I could never—I could never do that! —I love—”

But your words weren’t ones he could consider truthful anymore, not when he’d seen the evidence with his own two eyes:

The infuriating image of you gleefully laughing alongside his brother, the most insufferable of all, Naoaki, when he’s told you countless times to keep the fuck away from him.

Sure, he could admit knowing you were only being amicable for his sake, upkeeping your reputation as respectable lady of the house and honoring all that Naoya has worked for—but it still angered him, in such way many wouldn’t be able to comprehend, not even in the slightest, because just as he knew you, he also knew his brothers.

Saw right through their envious intentions, their jealous, lustful motivations.

Which only fueled him to let everyone know you were his.

That he’s the one you married, the one he’s claiming every single night, filling with his seed, chanting his name like it was some kind of prayer, and soon—carrying his child.

Seems a reminder is long overdue. And what better way to do so than continuously putting you through a state his foolish brothers could only dream of achieving…

But to Naoya, all he had to do was ask.

“I love you” you whimper when he pulls out the vibrator from your cunt, swiftly and without warning, leaving you empty, yet eager, for you wholeheartedly expected this agonizing void to be replaced by his intoxicating warmth…

You’d get it, of course, but not the way you anticipated, nor wanted—for Naoya would tell you that in order to obtain what you desired, you’d have to convince him you’re worthy of his cock, the pleasure you’ve been agonizingly longing for, even when overstimulated—

And like the ever-dutiful wife, you’d oblige, taking his member into your mouth and eagerly bobbing your head up and down his shaft, doing your best to show just how much you loved the entirety of him—from the tip of his head, to the prominent vein on the underside… there’s nothing more blissful than to be filled to the brim with his hardness and seed.

When feeling him close to his release, through the familiar sound of his shaky voice, tightly shut eyes as his head is thrown to the back, while heavily grunting just how good you’re making him feel, you tried to pull away from him, make him reconsider finishing inside your cunt instead.

But once more, you weren’t to receive such blessings—not when you had yet to comply with the cruel requirements of said punishment—so instead, Naoya simply pulls you back to his cock, nose against his pelvis as he does one, two, three more thrusts before emptying his seed into your mouth.

You moan at the warm strings flooding your throat, hands tightly clenching at his legs as you do your best to fight against the choking sensation his intruding member forced onto you—but as difficult this task was, your mind could only focus on the fire underneath, and the desolation you were dying to ease—

“N—No, Naoya…!” you’d cry when realizing that the only time he’d touch your cunt was to fill you with his seed but void of the pleasure he’d always given you when doing so. Instead, relegated solely to preserve his future heirs, safely guarded deep into tight walls and sealed with the same vibrator as before, to ensure nothing goes to waste. “It’s not—It’s not fair!”

A cry that makes him smirk, before his face turns sour at seeing your hands reach for your bud, undoubtedly seeking release through your own merits, him quickly peeling it away.

“If you touch yourself one more time—I’ll have you walk naked around the estate!”

There’s sincerity behind his tone, all the intentions of keeping his words if you fail once more, clear in his eyes.

And thus, without putting up a fight, you sorrowfully accept his condition, tears in your eyes as you’re bound to face another hour yet again without coming undone through the care and warmth of your husband.

Though Naoya would remind you that his actions aren’t of a cruel man, but rather, of fair one, by pressing a kiss on your cheeks, lips wiping away your tears as he sweetly reassures you…

“Just don’t do it next time, ok?” Naoya coos as he places a soft peck onto your lips, you continue quietly sobbing. “You know how I feel when you talk to my brothers… do you really want it to be like this, always?”

You shake your head.

No, of course not. You’d rather die than make your husband upset.

“Then be a good girl and do as I say.” Naoya carefully grabs your face, making you turn to him—watery eyes looking up to his surprisingly soft, promising ones. “Can you do that? Can the future mother of my children obey me?”

At the promise of becoming the mother to his heirs, your heart flutters, a soft smile appearing on your lips before eagerly revealing your response.

“Yes.”

A guarantee that would briefly provide a glimpse of your undying loyalty towards him, willing to do not only that, but more—from keeping your hands away from your burning cunt, eyes stray of all men but him, to eagerly taking his seed and only his seed, preparing for the day you’d announce you were with child…

There was nothing you wouldn’t do for Naoya. Happy to accept your punishments for actions you weren’t even aware of…

As long as you had his love.

I was actually upset that I didn't write y/n wearing a vibrator/plug on this oneshot over here, like, commit to it, you know?! That would've sent Naoya over the edge waaay earlier.

Also, thank you so much for your lovely words!! I'm so glad you're liking my fic so far :') It's always such an honor... and I've long promised myself that even if it took me a while, I will finish it!! I have to... I owe it to myself and y'all....

Anyways, thank you so much for sending in this ask!!! :> I hope it was worth the wait! I got to write something I wanted to try out... hehe. Totally worth it.

Now, take care and hope to see you soon ❤️

#naoya zenin #naoya zen'in #naoya x reader #naoya zenin x reader #naoya zenin x you #jjk naoya #naoya zen'in x reader #jjk x reader #jjk smut #jjk x you #prompt series: jujutsu kaisen #ask

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here2bbtstrash · 2 years

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Can you write a drabble with bestfriend yoongi finding out you have a spit kink and makes fun of you but turns out he’s into it too and … yea 🤭

anon i gotta give you props for so patiently playing the waiting game. i literally saved this req from the last time you sent it bc i really WANTED to do it but it took a lotta brain power 😂 had to have a whole brainstorming session

also shoutout to seokjin for making this relevant!!

still accepting freaky requests, lmk what ya wanna see!!

pairing: yoongi x reader word count: 1.1k contains: spit kink, erotic watermelon eating 🥴, i promise there's no actual food play tho, friends to lovers ig, tiny bit of praise kink

“Eat.” Yoongi sets the plate of fruit and bowl down in front of you, and panic instantly rockets through your nervous system.

“I-I don’t like watermelon,” you say before immediately realizing that isn’t going to solve your problem. The issue isn’t whether or not you eat it.

“That’s not a thing,” Yoongi says decisively as he squints at you. He can clearly tell you are acting strange. “Everyone likes watermelon.”

“Are you questioning my taste in fruit?”

Your best friend rolls his eyes. “Well, I have about ten pounds of it, courtesy of Jin. Help me eat it or don’t. I don’t give a shit.” The silver bracelets on his wrist jangle as he reaches for a slice. You make a mental note to kill Seokjin the next time you see him.

Frozen in place, you can only watch helplessly as Yoongi takes a bite, pink fruit melting quickly under lips and teeth. His jaw works for a second, and then he brings the bowl up to his chin and spits three seeds out in quick succession.

Fuck.

“This one does have a lot of seeds,” he mutters mostly to himself, frowning into the bowl.

Of fucking course it does.

He suddenly seems to become aware of your eyes on him, because he looks up at you, brows furrowing together with agitation. “What is this, a fucking mukbang? Will you put on the damn show?”

Right. Extraordinary Attorney Woo. He specifically invited you over to get caught up on the latest episodes. Not to stare at him while he eats fruit.

You fumble for the remote, trying not to look as flustered as you feel, and clearly fail, because you can hear Yoongi laughing around another mouthful. “What the fuck is wrong with you today?”

“Leave me alone.”

You manage to divert enough brain cells from thinking about your best friend’s mouth to remember how to pull up Netflix.

The show starts, and you sink back against the couch, extremely grateful for the distraction.

Except it doesn’t work. You are unfortunately laser-focused on Yoongi as he reaches for another slice, and the first bite is accompanied with a gratuitous sucking sound as he attempts to keep the juice in his mouth.

He’s not quite successful, and when a few drops roll down his chin, you’re hit with the nearly overwhelming desire to lick them up.

“You can literally have some if you want it,” he talks with his mouth full, wiping the back of his hand over his neck. You know he’s talking about the watermelon, but there’s already a steady pulse between your legs at the other opportunity that sentence offers you.

He picks up the bowl again to spit into it, having to try a few times to get all the seeds out of his mouth, and you’re not going to make it. Especially not when he reaches for a third slice and makes a low hum of appreciation at the first bite. The noise thrums through you, so intense you swear you’re vibrating.

Yoongi’s eyes catch yours, and when he sees you’re still watching him intently, he’s clearly had enough.

“Alright,” he says mid-chew, picking up the remote to pause the show and then slamming it back down. “If I’m that fucking gross, you can just go home.”

“Not gross,” you correct quickly, before you can decide whether or not it’s a good idea.

Yoongi looks entirely confused, but he must finally be able to read the expression on your face, see the way you go slack-jawed when he pulls the bowl up to his mouth and spits into it a third time.

“So, what, you have a watermelon fetish?”

“Not watermelon,” you say softly.

His gaze jumps from your face to the bowl and back, and he seems to finally put the pieces together.

“Oh my god, are you one of those ‘spit in my mouth, daddy’ girls?”

An embarrassed heat shoots up your neck, and you can only nod.

“That’s fucking freaky,” he laughs, enough that his shoulders shake. “I can’t believe I never knew this.” Your brain thinks to tell him that you don’t appreciate being kink-shamed, and then his next words make you forget how to string a sentence together, or even what words are.

“Open your mouth, then.”

Without hesitation, you do as you're told. It’s impossible to miss the smug expression on Yoongi’s face as he gets to his knees and moves towards you.

“So eager. You want it that bad?”

Your tongue lolls out as you nod, and you inhale sharply when his hand comes to grab your face and hold it in place, silver rings digging into your skin in a way that sends sparks through you.

“Then I want you to take it like a good girl, okay?”

You couldn’t suppress the strangled noise that sentence works out of your open mouth if you tried. Yoongi’s eyes glint– he’s clearly enjoying this power. The strong muscle of his jaw flexes, and then he leans down to spit into your waiting mouth. It’s too damn hot for you to stop the desperate whine that follows.

“Want more?”

When you whimper again, Yoongi seems satisfied with the response. He sits up a little taller on his knees, and you can see his tongue moving behind closed lips. There’s more saliva this time– a lot more; he lets it fall slowly out of his mouth, off of his tongue, feeding it to you one drop at a time, so slow it’s nearly torture. You squeeze your eyes shut and your thighs together at the same time, your hips just barely starting to rock, in desperate need of friction.

You hear and feel it as he spits a third time, fast and aggressive now, so fucking dirty that a shiver rips up your spine.

Yoongi’s fingers brush over your jaw, and you take the encouragement to close your mouth and swallow.

“Good girl.” His voice is dark with lust, and you instantly need more. Eyes still closed, you drop your mouth open again in a silent request.

It takes you by surprise when his tongue meets yours instead, and you can’t help but outright moan as he licks into your mouth, tasting sweet and heady. You find his body under your hands, fingers moving to tangle in the long dark hair at the nape of his neck, enjoying the low groan you pull out of him when you tug gently, the way his lips close around your tongue and suck.

His hands are already fumbling for the button of your jeans, and you’re both breathless when he breaks the kiss momentarily to better see what he’s doing.

“Fuck, how about I spit on your clit next?”

You don’t expect to survive the evening.

#yoongi smut #yoongi x reader #bts smut #bts x reader #anonymous #*watermelon sugar high plays in the distance*

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