#lemony imagines

[lemony-snickers]

the thought of Kakashi imprinting on u 😳🫢🤭 this is doing someting to me

it breaks him a little bit, doesn't it?

this feeling, so far beyond his control. destined. kakashi has spent his entire life trying so hard to cultivate his persona, carefully script who he is and what it means to be the last of his clan, friend-killer, copy nin, sensei...

his sense of self so fractured in places by all that has happened, all the people he has tried and failed to be for those he loves.

and then this raw, feral piece of him awakens in an startling instant, and he is consumed by it. by you. only you.

mind clouded with repeating, insistent thoughts; your glorious scent, the taste of your skin, the warmth of you as you welcome him home.

and then the doubt. what if i am not enough. fast enough to save you when you're in danger, good and deserving enough to call you his.

but his need for you is all-consuming. primal. hungry. he can never be close enough to you, deep enough inside. it's physically painful to separate from you and when he returns, it is all he can do to satisfy the insatiable craving he now has. the static track in his brain blots out everything but you and him and this and now and more.

everything he thought he was or should be pushed aside; reduced to a footnote. all that careful discipline unspooling. his demons silenced, insecurities drowned by this urgent need he can neither ignore nor control.

if anyone had asked, he would have said relinquishing command of his senses—his carefully crafted perception—would be a nightmare. but it's a fucking dream to lose it all, everything he thought he knew or wanted or deserved...

for you.

[snckt]

violet had a real knack for inventing and building strange devices, so her brain was often filled with images of pulleys, levers, and gears, and she never wanted to be distracted by something as trivial as her hair.

@asouefanworkevent day one of woevember : violet's inventions, alternatively titled,   what's that thing edison said?

[pocketneophyte]

Day 2 Snicketober: Sugar Bowl Gen!!! I love sugarbowl gen!!!

Used this prompt to finish off an old wip based on a pinterest photo

[frost-queen]

Ashes // part 2 (Reader x Klaus Baudelaire)

Requested by @fran-tv Forever tag:@missmelodramatic, @alex–awesome–22, @ellie-does-the-posts, @floatlosers, @merlieve , @queen-of-books , @glimmering-darling-dolly , @denkisclown , @wildieflower , @meyocoko , @justanothercoco, @subjecta13-thefangirl , @m-rae23 , @harleyquinnswifeyfrfr , @swampything07, @melsunshine , @panhoeofmanyfandoms , @venomsvl , @the-uncoordinated-house-cat , @rosecentury , @imagines-by-her, @evilcr0ne , @vviolynn , @niktwazny303 , @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 , @erikasurfer @slythetic , @p0nycurtis, @eliscannotdance

Violet patted you on the back, moving through the submarine to the back parts. Giving you a comforting smile, hoping it would encourage you that everything will be alright. You weren’t feeling it yet, only giving her a simple shrug. Violet let you go through first, stepping over the border to get through the door.

Arriving at the main place. Sunny sat there with Cook. Clearly debating with him. It was funny as Sunny wasn’t that good with words yet, but that didn’t seem to stop her from explaining her point. Cookie swelled up in it, trying to make her see it the other way around. – “Sunny, Cookie.” – Violet spoke with furrowed brows.

It both made them stop their bickering. Cookie rubbed the back of his head shamefully. Flustered that he was caught bickering with a toddler. Violet walked up to her sister, picking her up from the table, she had been standing on to meet his eyelevel more.

Sunny mumbled at Cookie with one eye closed. Cookie pointed back at her with a cheeky smile. – “We’ll continue this.” – he whispered to her. It made Violet look over her shoulder with a certain motherly scowl in her eyes. Making Cookie swallow nervously, taking a humble step back. Violet came joining you once more seeing you were laughing.

“Glad to see you are laughing.” – she said poking in your cheek. – “Only because you gave Cookie the fright of his life with one look.” – you replied. It made her crack up, chuckling. All of you gasped when there was the sudden sound of a bang. A small cogwheel busted off a pipe, flinging itself in your directions.

Violet and you ducking down just in time before it could hit you square in the face. Steam releasing itself from the pipes seconds later. Violet sighed, handing Sunny to you. – “This darn ship is falling apart with each minute.” – Violet told you.

She moved to the table, taking a tool, letting it drag off the table with not much enthusiasm. Cookie came shivering closer to her. – “Can… can you fix it.” – he asked fumbling his chef’s hat in his hands. Violet turned her head with boredom at him. A stupid question to ask. You had set Sunny down, searching with her for the cogwheel.

Sunny called it out having found it under a desk. – “Brilliant Sunny.” – you told her, kneeling beside her. Coming to lay beside her, you reached your hand out to grab for it. It took you a few tries, stretching your fingers to get a hold of it. Pulling it closer to you so you could easily take it.

Getting back up all sweaty, you puffed some lost strays of hair out of your face. – “Got it!” – you called out victoriously with the cogwheel up in the air. You gave the cogwheel to Cookie, who accepted it with both hands. He gave it to Violet so she could mend the pipe once more. – “I’ll be here for a while.” – she told you.

“I’ll take Sunny to the sleeping quarters.” – you replied back. Sunny looked up to you with one eye closed. – “It’s nap time.” – you told her, squatting down to her height. Sunny gave you typical childish glance that she didn’t wish to nap. You took her hand, not letting her fool you.

Sunny was getting tired and there was no way she would admit it. Waving Violet goodbye, you set off further down the submarine. – “I’ll tell you a story before naptime.” – you told her on the way. Hoping it would smooth her protest more. You looked carefully both ways, hoping you wouldn’t encounter Fiona or Klaus.

Still not over it that Klaus had fallen so easily for the new girl with a pretty face. You had been travelling the longest with the Baudelaire’s. Perhaps… perhaps he simply saw you as one of his sisters. The idea made you shudder, hoping it wasn’t true for your heart very much called out his name.

Sunny and you arrived at the sleeping quarters. Stepping over the border to get through the door. Making sure Sunny wouldn’t trip over it. Turning your head to the beds, you froze in shock. Klaus was here. Sitting on your bed with… with your sketchbook in his hands. You immediately panicked. – “Where did you get this!” – you shouted out, snatching the book from his hands.

It startled him as he hadn’t heard you come in. Simply staring at the pages in deep thoughts. – “Y…Y…Y/n.” – he stuttered out jumping to his feet. You clutched the book against your chest, moving away from him. – “I…I…I didn’t…” – he stumbled out, trying to get a good word out.

“This is private!” – you snapped at him, tearing your gaze away from him. – “I…I… I didn’t mean to look Y/n.” – Klaus called out trying to redeem himself. – “But you did!” – you answered harshly. Klaus looked down at his sister, seeing her even glare back at him. Knowing it was wrong of him to look.

“Y/n… I’m sorry I…” – he tried once more, taking a step closer to you. You shielded yourself more from him. Wiping your cheek dry at the sudden feeling of a tear rolling down. Klaus noticed it, letting his shoulders slouch with much regret. – “I’m sorry Y/n. I was worried about you.” – he responded making you laugh loud.

“So you decided to snoop in my sketchbook. You know that is private!” – you declared to him once more. – “I know.” – Klaus answered accepting his fate. – “Y/n I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel left out.” – he spoke, making you turn your head in shock back at him. Shock settling for anger as he had seen the last page. – “You saw it!” – you yelled at him, pushing him back.

Klaus stumbled back against the beds, keeping his gaze low. Slowly he nodded. You wanted to throw your sketchbook at him, already making the movement as it made Klaus shrink, ready to receive it anyways. Before your hand let go of the sketchbook, you stopped. Dropping your sketchbook to the ground as you couldn’t stop the tears anymore.

Klaus slowly looked up, hearing your loud sobs. His gaze falling on the sketchbook on the ground. Open with a sketch of your father on the page. Monty. Klaus moved to you, wrapping his arms around you in a tight clutch. You started to cry even louder. Punching his back for all the pain he had caused your heart. Klaus endured every punch, burying his face in the nook of your neck.

Not letting go under any circumstance. – “I know… I know…” – he said feeling you drop to your knees. He dropped down with you, still holding on tight to you. Your punching died out, crying loud against his shoulder. – “I hate you for choosing her!” – you told him with one last punch. Klaus received the impact, keeping himself strong. – “I know… I’m sorry.” – he answered with guilt. – “You wouldn’t even care if I died.” – you accused him, thinking if Count Olaf came to kill you now, he wouldn’t move a beat.

Klaus pulled his head up, taking your face in the palms of his hands. – “Don’t say that!” – he said loudly. – “If I had too I would venture to the underworld to reclaim your soul! I would never let anything happen to you, because I care for you Y/n. So… so…so darn much!”

You stared in shock back at him. He wiped some tear stains away from your cheek. – “You like Fiona.” – you told him. – “She’s nice.” – he responded receiving a punch in the armpit from you. – “Au!” – he called out, rubbing his armpit. – “But I like you more.” – he added with a sheepish smile. – “Now you are just lying.” – you answered, crossing your arms.

“I am not.” – Klaus responded placing his hand on your arms. You looked away, not believing him. Klaus pulled himself a bit up to lean in. Pressing a gentle kiss against your cheek. The touch left you flustered and bashful. – “Does that answer your question?” – he asked shyly, rubbing his palms nervously together that he had just given you a kiss. Sunny spoke as it made the two of you snap out of it.

Klaus and you laughed, opening your arms to her as she came running over. Joining the two of you in a hug. There was a sudden weight against your arm as you noticed Sunny had fallen asleep in your embrace. – “I’ll take her.” – Klaus whispered, picking his sister up. He carried her over to a bed, laying her down. – “I’ll stay with her.” – he told you. You nodded. – “I’ll go see how Violet is doing with that busted pipe.” – you whispered back. Klaus’s brows furrowed with confusion. – “Don’t ask.” – you responded.

You were about to head out when Klaus called you back. It made you look back at him. – “You know I like you, right.” – he whispered whilst rubbing his hand over Sunny’s back with comfort. – “I do now.” – you responded with a smile. Taking your leave, you returned to the main place. Hoping to see that Violet had been able to fix the busted pipe.

You turned a corner, nearly bumping into Fiona. Both got startled by the other one, taking a step back. Both remaining in silence, not really wanting to talk to one another. Yet Fiona was the first to ask a question. – “Where is Klaus?” – she asked. – “With Sunny.” – you told her with a clenched expression. Fiona made an effort to go past you to him, but you came blocking her path.

“Sunny is sleeping, leave him be.” – you made clear to her. Fiona looked you up and down. – “I will be quick.” – she said trying to pass you again. You moved so she couldn’t get through. – “Leave them be!” – you let out. Not that afraid anymore to speak up to her. Fiona scoffed loud. – “I’m the captain of this submarine. You don’t tell me what to do!” – she pressed on.

“And I’m still not letting you through. If you are so desperate to see Klaus, it will have to wait!” – you crossed your arms with a glare at her. Fiona’s cheeks puffed with redness. – “Let me through!” – she called out moving to the right to try and surpass you there as you moved in sync with her. She started to get frustrated that you weren’t letting her pass. – “Get out of the way!” – she gave you a slight push in the shoulder to move.

“No!” – you stated, not giving in. Fiona’s cheeks bloated even more with anger. – “Then I’ll make you!” – she shouted ready to fight her way through. – “What is going on?” – A third voice came through. Fiona lowered her aggressive stance. – “Klaus.” – she called out all sugary. – “I was just looking for you, but this one wouldn’t let me through.” – Fiona motioned with her chin at you.

“This one is Y/n.” – Klaus spoke in your defence. Coming to stand beside you. – “What is it that you needed me for.” – Klaus asked. – “I…I well… I thought we could a bit further for the sugar bowl.” – she responded. – “Maybe later, Sunny is sleeping now and I’m staying with her.” – Klaus answered. – “Oh…” – Fiona said, unsatisfied with the answer. Klaus turned back around. Throwing you a wink before heading back to the sleeping quarters.

Fiona turned on her heel with a shame over her. You couldn’t help yourself but smile. Feeling a bit better, you continued to head for the main place to see how Violet was doing.

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

Read more of my fics on my Masterlists! ---- (part 1)

[anika-ann]

Little Miss Red (R.D.)

Type: blurb, one-shot, drabble (for me it's drabble-length okay)

Pairing: Ransom Drysdale x reader          Word count: 1800

Summary: Ransom’s looking for a good time tonight.

When you walk through the door, he knows he’ll get it. And you? Oh you’ll get it too. He's going to make sure of it.

Warnings: NSFW FILTH, 18+, smut!!! I mean it. Filth, y’all. Fingering, oral sex. Written in Ransom’s voice, so language and greyish lizard brain. Hints of degradation, praise kink and innocence kink.

A/N: this is COMPLETELY on @chase-your-dreams-away who claimed she has no time to write it after just throwing the plot bunny out here with @murdock-and-the-sea supporting her.

A/N: divider by amazing @firefly-graphics; the title of the fic does not refer to dd/lg dynamics nor the actual body proportions of the reader

Ransom knew he was going to have fun with you the moment you walked through the door.

A little unsteady on your feet, but deeply embarrassed expression coating your face when you stumbled and swiftly righted yourself; unsure on your high heels, not drunk out of your mind. Little red dress hugging your ass and not much else lower, the hem riding up higher than midthigh as it had probably been intended, your hands quick to remedy it. Cheap make-up which he could spot a mile away, a courtesy of being the child of small-business-loving mother.

You looked so out of place in the luxurious club and so out of your debt that Ransom knew he wanted to play cat and mouse with you.

Except you were definitely a kitten; there was no arguing it later when you nervously tasted the head of his cock, shy kitten licks turning into a small purr around his head when you tried to wrap your lips around him, clearly doing so for the first time.

He knew that was what you were looking for when you came in. He was good at reading people – that was what made him so good at his game. Your sinfully red lipstick spoke for itself and he predicted that the night was going to end up with that colour smeared all over him, with mascara running down your cheeks. He had you blinking up at him with tender wonder and want with just a few sweet words and lured you in into the private saloon with a promise of a good time and being a gentleman.

When his mouth found yours after two minutes of idle meaningless chitchat, you had smiled contentedly into the kiss. Your breath quickened as soon as his tongue pushed between your lips, a silent squeak into his mouth – but leaning into his touch eagerly, heart like a cute little hummingbird – when his hands started wandering to your breasts, so prettily wrapped in the crimson dress. Yes. You might be of limited experience and playing coy, but you came here for one thing and Ransom was happy to give it as long as he got to take from you much more.

You responded to even the faintest touch. When he ran his fingers through your folds over the absurdly thin excuse for an underwear, you were already soaking and fuck, the needy whine that escaped your swollen lips when he circled your puffy nub… it almost made him cum in his damn pants. He was going to eat you up.

If he wasn’t so determined to see your red mouth around him, he’d take your cunt. She was sucking his fingers right in, greedy for more, and yet it was almost as tight as if you were a virgin and was just as sensitive. He’d know; he had taken plenty. He loved stealing their innocence, ruining them for other men. He breathed in the power he gained when he was the first to claim that territory, all warm, wet and so damn snug; having them cry his name as their pain, that delicious pain he both caused and took away, blended into pleasure and pleas for more. Breathy. Needy. Begging so sweet and filthy, obscenities spilling from those good girl lips that had trembled a bit at the size of his cock and yet took it so well.  

You asked for more too, weak voice coming out in gasps as he stuffed the third finger in, the squelch of your juices filling the space and sending blood straight under his belt. By the time you were trapping his fingers in with how hard he made you cum, he was ready to burst the second you’d take him to your throat. It was a thrilling game of control and self-control; and he’d always win.

You were a fast learner. After paying attention to the head, you took him in and sucked experimentally, eyes fluttering shut when he placed his big hand on your nape, encouraging you to take more. And so you did. Fast learner; eager learner. Ransom loved them eager to please him, especially when they were first timers, face all flushed at the mere suggestion of sucking him off at first. Now? Your nose was on his pubic bone, hair ruffled from how he gripped you close for his tip to brush your throat, your pretty cheap make-up running, lipstick all where he needed it.

As a bonus, you clawed your hands on him all over; over his thighs, over his ass, pushing away and pulling closer, your hips bucking forward in search of friction. And fuck if that didn’t get him going; his Little Miss Red enjoyed the hell out of sucking a cock and choking at it, gagging and grabbing at him as if she didn’t feel him deep enough. Who would have thought.

“That’s it, kitten, that’s it, take my load…” he coaxed you and caressed your hair with his free hand, lost to the vibration around him when you hummed in agreement, purring like a little obedient affection-hungry kitten indeed.

“Oh baby, look at you, a good little girl acting like such a whore for a big cock, hm? Fucking love that virgin mouth. Look at the mess you’re making of yourself for me.”

You had. You struggled to swallow and breathe, saliva pooling and escaping your mouth but damn, you were so excited to do better, holding onto his ass, his inner thighs, trying to brush your weepy core against his shin to earn some of that friction you so obviously craved.

Your fingers stroked over his balls and he spilled down your throat with a satisfied groan, fingers in your hair flexing to keep you there and swallow it all as you coughed and sputters, more black streaks painted your pretty face, throat spasming with a choked sound.

You curiously left him in your mouth as he softened, that little experimental lick almost enough for him to get hard again. He pulled you up and walked back to the couch to tug you into his lap, claiming your mouth with his own, tasting his victory in the salty tang on your tongue. What a sweet picture you made; a fucked out mess, eager for more, innocence ruined. He almost took a photo to make the euphoria last longer.

But you got shy again, all wide-eyed, when he pulled out a wipe from his breast pocket, spitting a bit to clean your face up from the worst smudges.

“Told you I’d be a gentleman, didn’t I, kitten? Can’t have you walk around the club like this, everyone would know what you’ve been up to,” he smirked, cock twitching at your meek thank you and the little spark in your eye that told him that you might like that. You might enjoy other people knowing what was in your mouth and now in your belly, wear your ruined cute face like a badge of honour.

Fuck, he could keep you. If he only cared enough for the shit that came with keeping just one girl at his arm. Keeping anyone, really.

Your legs were a little wobbly after he tested you were wet for him again and you buckled into his touch, but he sent you walking out with your purse all alone, satisfied for the night – or at least half of it. Still sprawled on the couch, he tucked himself in and gathered his breath and composure before he returned to the few bearable members of his fraternity fraction. They hit up a club every once in a while, a little hunting trip for pussy. The one who’d score first during the night out paid for the drinks.

Ransom’s smirk widened as he stepped back into the main room. He had no doubt he was the winner tonight; that feeling was damn worth the few hundred bucks he’d pull out of his Valentino-

The smirk slipped from his face when all his palm was the fabric of his empty pocket, his lips parting with mute shock, anger flaring up in an instant.

“Son of bitch-“

His head snapped up, instinctively searching for you; and finding you by the entrance again. You smiled at him sweetly, one corner of your sinfully red lips higher in a smirk as you waved his wallet at him. He froze mid-step.

Blowing him a cheeky kiss, you dropped your timid demeanour like a paper-thin mask, letting it drift towards the floor as slowly as you sunk to your knees for him.

An act. He had fallen for a cheap fucking act. You were no first timer; you were far from shy, apparently.

With bitter clarity, he recalled your hands clawing at his ass when he had thought he had it all under his control, including you, as you struggled to breathe. Your throat spasmed so sweetly, showing him heaven, while he dragged you to hell.

Or he had believed so. Now, watching you disappear behind the door as if you had been nothing but a fever dream, it was easy to see it was the other way around; or maybe you were both going to hell already.

A fist bumped into his shoulder, laughter of his wannabe friends reaching his ears.

“Well, well, well, looks like someone already scored tonight,” Harold howled, cackling as other guys booed and whistled. “Drinks are on Drysdale tonight, y’all!”

Oh Ransom would be drinking tonight, alright. Son of a bitch. That little, little bitch.

“She stole my wallet,” Ransom muttered, barely audible, still hypnotizing the door as if you were to come back. Yeah right.

“Wait what? Dude! You gotta block your credit card and call the cops before she buys a fucking Ferrari at your expense or something! Come on!”

The outrage in his Bryan’s voice snapped Ransom from his stupor, his head slowly turning to the man who spoke the sound advice.

The image of the check Little Miss Red buying a luxury sports car just as red for his money. It should strike him with terror. It should make his blood boil. It should make him want to grab your cute little neck and choke the life out of you.

But his surprise and exasperation gradually blended into the strangest feeling of pride.

You participated in his game of cat and mouse; you were the kitten. You were the cat.

You won fair and square even as both of you played more than dirty.

He could respect that.

“Nah. I’ll let her have it for a bit. It’s kinda like having a sugar baby…” Ransom mused, shrugging it off. “When she least expects it, I’m gonna find her and make her show how sorry she is. …or maybe make her my sugar thing for real. I mean… those lips looked really pretty around my dick after all.”

Mics masterlist

Yeah, the stealing the wallet bit and Ransom kinda respecting the reader for it was the “innocent remark” @chase and @murdock came with and my brain went hggggnnnn, because yeah, he would.

Thank you for reading. I'm gonna go bath in holy water, excuse me.

(the convo that inspired this filth... we know he would)

[asouefanworkevent]

oh! your mysterious moderator appears, with a picture of lemony snicket? is it that time of year already?

woevember, the asoue/atwq fanwork week, is coming to us all once more! stay tuned for this year's event post, arriving tuesday 🍂

[dailypocketcat]

Hugs, hugs, big hugsss!!! 😊

Day 14 - Hugs!

[vfdinthewild]

"Various fungal diseases potentially attack lilac foliage, often appearing as brown or dark spots or irregular areas that may be accompanied by a yellowing or browning of a lager leaf surface area and sometimes leaf drop."

-from this forum answer on lilac care

[witherydithery]

I see "The Lonely and the Eye are fighting over Lemony Snicket" and raise you "The Dark is absolutely also throwing its hat in the ring"

Twelve-year-old Lemony Snicket: Feeds someone to the Bombinating Beast (aka. The Unknown) The Dark: 👀👀👀

[crepuscular-haze]

devastated that I will likely never truly understand the deep and erotic connection between a writer and their illustrator

[otterjpg]

when i was younger i thought that a cousin "once removed" meant that there had been a falling out that led to estrangement, and that if they were twice/three times removed meant they'd made up before falling out again...

[whoslaurapalmer]

solemnly eating a cheese stick, thinking about lemony snicket

[snckt]

submitting into consideration san clemente for stain’d by the sea by way of this window in the library :

[lemon-drop-soda]

Made good on my promise.

Thank you for proving my point for me.

[anika-ann]

GG Steve and A, I, and/or R??

Well hello, Ro, sorry that this took so embarrassingly long 🥲

Here are some dirty thoughts from this game concerning my beloved Gentle Giant Stevie from Love on the Brain in scrambled order... you'll find the dirtiest and longest at the bottom (is this a pun? it's a bad pun). Technically, the you is his partner in every sense of the word aka Sparkles, but it can be read independently of the series.

Thots under cut. Warnings: they are 18+, okay- also there's very little editing, it's a headcanon, not an essay.

R - Routine (do they have a routine when it comes to picking up one night stands? do they have scheduled sex with their partner? are things spontaneous or planned ahead of time?)

One-night stands are no-no. Very much no no and they were even before he met you… but where scheduled sex is concerned the answer is also no. With your crazy schedules, it might make sense to try to plan so you can squeeze in some intimate together time, but with emergency missions… not so much. Things keep getting in the way (cough cough, there might be a ‘drabble’ about them getting actually frustrated at the lack of closeness and sexual encounters of theirs in general due to schedule conflicts). So spontaneity usually wins – certainly in a way of appreciating every moment you catch together. It doesn’t always have to be sexual per se, but it often ends up that way 😏 You had two years of pent-up sexual tension, can anyone blame you??? Not to mention that adrenalin and emotions can sometimes fly high, so if there is something routine-like, it’s winding down together after a mission, be it sweet and tender, all desperate hungry kisses with clashes of teeth, grasping and grabbing and fuck me we are alive, or celebratory god damn you were hot and capable and badass today. Does that count as a routine? One routine thing though; Steve is a man with a plan. Just because he doesn’t necessarily schedule sex, he is using his strategic mind to find windows in your calendar so you find time to be together. To take you out for a date for dinner, for a bike ride, or just lie under the stars and cuddle. Sure, these things often do result in intimacy of all kinds, but that man has a heart larger than his already impressive body and you fill a huge portion of it; it’s only fair you take up his time too.

P.S. The man is not only a planner but an overthinker often. Remember when it took you forever to sleep together for the first time? He ran his mind over thousands of scenarios, planned everything he’d say, everything he’d do, guessed how you’d react (and had some alone time over that a lot),how many times he’d get you off before he starts counting the times he will. Because he wants to treat you right and the one moment when you admitted a guy had been after getting you to bed and then instantly fled the so-called relationship since he got what he wanted is ingrained in his brain and he’ll do everything in his power to show you that he’s not him. Even if it means blue balls or might result in a supersoldier carpal tunnel issues.

Which gets us to:

A - Alone time (how do they get off when they’re all by themselves? do they watch porn, is it all in their imagination, do they jerk off, do they use toys?)

I’ll start with the last one: nah. There is no way he got his hands on toys in his original time and he was doing just fine and he doesn’t need them now. How would he even get them without half the globe learning about it? No thank you. He’s got hands. Two big hands. If you ever express interest in him using toys on you, he is all game and will get off on watching you squirm and nearly lose your mind to pleasure – which he will try to replicate on his own because dammit he will not have some toy satisfy you better, at least make it a cooperation dammit – but not on himself. Not when alone.  

Steve’s a sensual, visual guy. He imagines a lot, but feels rather bad jerking off to a specific person, because it feels rather… invasive and unfair. So his mind conjures images, perhaps a combination of actual memories of voices and visuals (and yes, some inspiration might have come from porn, but he doesn’t downright puts on an adult movie and gets on it, nope), perfumes and scents, images of hands smaller than his on him he can mimic by his own touch and that is what gets him going… and off. If he has the time. He doesn’t have a problem with a quick work in a shower (which often is a solution and I know I share this headcanon with someone, cough cough).

The problem starts when you join. Because A, his need of alone time increases exponentially and B, his mind just. Wouldn’t let go. He’s damn ashamed of it, because you are friends and your friendship is sweet and teasing and maybe there’s a little bit of flirting, and the act itself feels like defiling you, but well, there’s the fact that he would like to defile you. He has so many memories of you filling his senses that get him off, even if they come from workout or from movie night or from perfectly innocent hugs. He feels like a creep and it’s utterly disrespectful to you, but he can’t help it. He tries to relief his conscience by not actively starting with imagining you.

In that sense, it is a real liberation to him when you get together, because he might need a lot of alone time then too before you take your relationship to that level, but at least his conscience is clean even as his mind is filthy.

Speaking of filthy mind… drabble-ish thots ahead.

I - Impact play (here’s where talking about things like spanking, paddles, canes, floggers and the like.) - not me having to google stuff on this

My instant reply was no. NOT STEVE. No violence in any form in the bedroom, not in intimacy. Violence is for battlefield, for missions. For training to a point, and even there he’s careful not to hurt you. When in bed, he might hold you a little too tight, grab a little too harsh, knead and squeeze and maybe suck enough to bruise when you feel just so good and he’s losing himself in you, losing control, but no hitting or slapping or-- nope. He earned the nickname of a Gentle Giant for a reason he might be sensual to a point of filthy, but if he hurt you (even if you asked), he couldn’t look himself in the eye in the mirror.

BUT ALSO.

He’s a handsy man. He does adore drowning all his senses in you, he loves exploring his lover’s body with all he has and he simply loves to touch at all times, feel the softness and warmth and slick, every curve, the thundering of your heartbeat under your skin with his fingertips or lips. To taste you where you let him. Inhale the scent your perfume, your arousal, the heady smell of sex in the air. To listen to the little or not so little noises, swallow them and let them melt on his tongue. To watch.

And that’s when it happens.

He didn’t mean to do it. He did not, and he’s horrified for a split second, because fuck he did not just- You were riding him. A glorious sight, pretty flushed face with slightly love-bitten lips and pupils blown with pleasure, breasts bouncing, muscles straining and little overworked from having mostly earned that previous orgasm on your own besides his lazy strokes over your clit and feeling where you were joined; you stilled for just a moment to get precious air into your lungs, breathy sounds of his name falling from your parted lips, so gorgeously fucked out and still needy for him and he could feel you so close again, his hand spread over your breast, over your hip, gripping and kneading your ass, your thigh and you were almost there, fluttering around him and he wanted one more, sweetheart, gimme one more, wanna feel you and he---

He meant to tap your thigh in encouragement when you started moving again, chasing your peak and it turned out to be more of a full-palm slap over the tempting curve of your ass and it was an accident, Steve would swear it.He froze, his thoughts faster than the reaction of your body, mind already flaring with horror and anxiety by the time your body caught up with what he had done nd had not meant to do and you-

You squeezed his cock so hard he felt it in his throat and he nearly choked, but mainly felt his groin spasm as you lost yourself to pleasure and all it took was a few rapid thrusts into your spasming burning heat and he was done for. Your juices coating his balls. His mouth slanting over yours on instinct even as the keen you released was the single lewdest soundhe had ever coaxed from you and his balls might be empty, but his chest is full of pride and his brain empty of thought but full of question marks, new fantasies and an image of you etched into his memory forever.

Your hips are still jerking minutely on instinct, your face now hidden in his shoulder, chest heaving beautifully against his, his lips kissing anywhere they can reach and holy damn. His hands grow softer, more comforting than exploring, mouth whispering sweet nothings even as they want to ask questions. You’ll tell him; he hopes you will. If there was one thing you were learning fast, it was communication; the last time you failed to communicate on a massive scale about how you felt, you ended up longing and lusting after one another for about two years. He’d rather not wait that long.

But he doesn’t press; in return, you press to him, peek at him shyly and kiss his lips sweetly, climbing off him only to settle in his lap anyway and hug him close, finger drawing non-sensical pattern on his shoulder and back until you both rise and rinse the sweat and other juices off your bodies in a shower together.

Only when in fresh sheets – the previous ones were beyond saving, at least for the night – when held close in his arms, gentle hands mapping out the familiar, and with sleep evading you despite the sleepiness and comfort of each other’s embrace, you confessed.

“I… I think I really liked it because I—I know you’d never hurt me,” you admit softly, earning a thoughtful hum at the half explanation.

“I didn’t mean to do it. I didn’t expect that reaction either, but I’d never do it without asking first. You know that, right?”

“I know. That’s what I mean, GG. I trust you…” you remind him softly, even as you teeth worry over your still kiss-swollen lower lip. “But if you… liked it too, you can do it again. Sometime. I… you didn’t mean to do it, I get that, but you let yourself get lost in the moment. With me. You lost- you let go of control a bit… for me. You let go because you feel comfortable enough with me to do that. That means a lot to me. And… you feeling so good with me that you… lose it and take what you need – without hurting me besides a little fading red mark or a tiny bruise – makes me feel pretty damn powerful and proud too. Really wanted and desired… pretty golden.”

The admissions hang heavy in the air, your whole body buzzing with nerves, a little voice in your head sleazily whispering of judgement. Your Gentle Giant, looking at you with disdain, even as what you confessed weren’t all that scandalous. The things you had encountered in your BAU days made this look about as freaky as wearing a little lace. And yet… your body buzzes with nerves and a little thrill and the chances of falling asleep now are precisely zero.

The voice falls silent the second Steve turns you in his arms so you face him and you find him watching you with his smile warm, eyes blown wide and curious – and everything but tired just like you.

“I do trust you too,” he whispers, fingertips brushing your cheekbone, strand of hair from your face, eyes roaming your face until they fall a little lower, as if in shame. Even in the limited light, you can tell his face is burning too. “Where-- I’d always ask, but--- and never with force, I don’t want to hurt you, and never your face, I--- but if I ever… where?”

Your heart thunders in your ribcage. You gulp as with his every word, it leaps into your throat too, your body brimming with nervous energy. But he watches with such genuine curiosity and excitement, the plans no doubt already whirling in his head, the strategist, the planner, the lover, the pleaser… the little shit. Your GG.

Your face is aflame, your hand shakes a little as you take his and it’s both anxiety and arousal, something scalding hot pulsing in your core again, when you lead that hand to set on your bare hip.

His gaze is dead set on yours, watching your reaction; you know he picked up on your quickened breathing, as you guide his hand over the globe of your ass, over your outer thigh, skim over the front to slip on the inside, heading higher, under his hand is cupping your sex.

His gaze is smouldering. You nervously lick your lips, escaping the cage of his gaze because you cannot bear it anymore, a little whisper of shame returning to back of your head, but the moment you look away, his free hand – the other is still touching you – slides under your chin, thumb brushing over your lips. The thumb of his other hand does the same as he slips under your panties and moves to your slick sex and slightly swollen and oversensitive bundle of nerves. Erection poking your thigh. Mouth against yours, whispering.

“Good to know, sweetheart…” Rough. His voice is so rough and husky and his lips are slick and warm and filthy. “Anything for ya’. Love ya so much… got me so hard for you again… the things you do to me, I swear-”

He clearly picked up more than on you just liking just the touch alone; the filthy praise spills from his lips, empowering, and the late night finds you tangled in the sheets once more, languid deep kisses that consume you, the connection forged by a secret revealed, secret shared, whispering between you about next time, even as now is all that matters, all you feel.

Steve is an observant man; he still needs confirmation ahead, but he learns the signs. It’s not something you engage in often, but he recognizes that soft mewly quality to your sighs now, the special glint in your eyes barely even hinting you need it; and he gives. And since he has consent, he lets himself lose control with you a little bit more too.

-.-.-.

Ro, I think I read too many of your wonderful replies to this game that I adopted the manner in which you write them. Ehm. I hope that's okay with you.

Thank you for the ask 💕 It took forever, but it was fun ✨