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honeymoonjin · 3 years

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ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 5.9k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: cursing, panic attack

A/N: apologies for my tgm crimes here but i gotta keep you on your toes since you have the old plan. also i'm not going to spoil anything but day 25 has one of my fav scenes in the show so far ;;-; so please enjoy this chapter and i will continue to work hard to finish the following one and get back into the posting routine!

DAY TWENTY-FOUR

You’re roused from sleep by the feathered sensation of fingertips on your jaw. Twitching slightly, you try and move away from it, burrowing deeper into the warm, gently rocking pillow your head is propped up on.

Before you can slip back under, however, the fingers give one last attack: a sudden flick to your cheek that echoes with a thwack. You flinch and furrow your brows, grumbling your displeasure since your words haven’t quite found you yet.

“Get up, sleepyhead, unless you’d rather I just piss in the bed.”

That’ll do it. You shoot up so quickly your vision swims, one side of your face feeling cold without the comfort of Yoongi’s chest. “Fuck you, go pee,” you slur, eyes still half-closed, the morning glare peeking through a gap in his curtains.

Yoongi happily but hurriedly trots off to the bathroom, giving you a moment of respite to collect yourself. It takes a few moments to recall the previous night, not just the way Yoongi’s voice had made you cum in your room, but also the way it later lulled you to sleep as he told you hushed stories of his childhood or anecdotes from his days as a sex education teacher.

You can even hear his voice now, just barely slipping under the crack of the door, humming and singing under his breath as he washes his hands.

When he finally exits, you’re propped up by pillows, duvet tucked over your knees and eyes crinkled fondly at his bedhead.

“Oh, no,” he starts with a frown, “you better get that look off of your face.”

Your smile drops. “What?”

Taming his hair with a few flat strokes, he shakes his head. “I need somebody sane in this house to talk to. You aren’t allowed to fall in love with me, it’s conflict of interest.”

Mouth dropping open, it takes you a few minutes to note the subtle curl to his lips. “You dick! I’m certainly not planning on it, don’t flatter yourself.”

“Hey,” he defends in a drawl, no attempt at modesty as he shucks his pyjamas before browsing his chest of drawers, “it’s been done before. You come for the massive dick and stay for the massive heart.” He pauses, shoulder muscles flexing as he reaches in to a drawer, pulling out a pair of dark wash jeans. “Stop looking at my ass, I’m trying to lecture you.”

On the contrary, you lower your gaze and narrow in on it. “You’re starting to develop a little bubble butt, Yoongi. It’s very cute.” Not leaving him time to protest, you barrel on. “Besides, your dick isn’t that big.”

“That’s only because you’re comparing mine to hyung’s. And Namjoon’s. And… And Jungkook’s, I guess. And-” Suddenly he cuts himself off, throwing himself back on the bed with his back hunched in despair. “Fuck, do I have a small dick?”

“Mm, not really,” you dismiss easily, deciding to finally get out of bed and pick out your own clothes - selecting them from Yoongi’s drawers, of course. He makes no protest, still staring blankly at the jeans in his hands. “You just have steep competition here. There’s nothing wrong with small dicks, either. They’re cute.”

Now visible from your angle, Yoongi’s face twists in a grimace. “But my dick isn’t small, right?”

You shrug, slipping on one of his FG shirts and a pair of sweatpants loose enough that you have to knot the drawstrings. “If it helps you sleep at night.”

He spares one somber glance down between his legs before he slips on a pair of underwear, finally stepping into the jeans. There’s a brief period of comfortable silence, before he lets out a small sigh. “Can I… Can I confess something to you?”

Although a quip would be easy enough to say, you sense the joking is over. “Of course, Yoongi,” you assure instead, sitting cross-legged on the unmade bed beside him. He doesn’t meet your eye, busying himself with slipping a shirt over his head. “What’s up?”

Once he’s fully dressed, he still keeps his eyes low. “When you- On Monday, when you voted out Jin-hyung. I was so glad.”

You pause for a moment. “Because you wanted him out of the competition?” you venture, but he shakes his head dully.

“Because I thought he might look at me again if he didn’t have you.”

Something sinks in your stomach, cold enough to make you shiver. The guilt in Yoongi’s voice doesn’t conceal the open vulnerability of his expression as he fiddles with his bitten fingernails. “What do you mean, Yoongi?”

“What him and I had earlier wasn’t healthy, I know that,” he defends to himself, “but… I still miss it. I miss him. But even when I spoke to him after the elimination, all he would talk about was you. And I can’t even be mad, because I get it. And I- If I’m honest,” he murmurs, feet scuffing restlessly on the carpet, “I don’t even know what I’m wanting to achieve by telling you this, but I couldn’t stand not having anybody know about it. I never wanted it to get this messy. I told myself I wouldn’t let my feelings get caught up. But I think a little heartbreak would be worth it, for him. Is that stupid?”

You feel so unanchored, like there’s nothing for you to grab onto to steady yourself. More so, you feel entirely incapable of helping your friend like you so desperately want to. “It’s not stupid,” you begin, reaching out to cup one of his hands snugly between the two of yours, head resting on his shoulder in solidarity, “and I’m so sorry. Does he- does he know you feel this way?”

“I don’t think so,” Yoongi admits in a low voice, leaning into your touch. “If he does, then he must not like me since he’s not acknowledging it. And if he doesn’t, then he must have never even considered me like that. I know I was a distraction at best.”

You knit your brows together, deep in thought to try and find the right words to say. “Or perhaps he knows and he’s respecting your boundaries by letting you initiate, especially since he was the one who took advantage of you last time. And perhaps he doesn’t know, and it’s only because he’s so caught up in his own feelings that he hasn’t considered that you may feel the same. You just don’t know these things, Yoongi. I didn’t know how you felt either until you told me.”

He nods slowly, jerkily. “Yeah,” he says weakly. “Jungkook said almost the exact same thing, actually.”

You pull back slowly, curiosity colouring your tone. “Jungkook?”

Yoongi manages a shy smile, cheeks colouring slightly. “He approached me. We- we talk a lot, way more than hyung and I ever did. I know Kookie has a crush on me, and we said we’d take things slow, but dammit, I can’t help but like the kid.”

You let a surprised laugh bubble up your throat. “That- I was not expecting that, but I’m so glad, Yoongi. Even if you don’t have Jin, I’m glad you’re letting yourself be happy with others.”

His smile falters. “Is it greedy that liking Jungkook doesn’t make me want Jin-hyung any less?”

You go still, thinking of your own blooming feelings for... Well, for most of the people in this house, if not - at least a little bit - all of them. “I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I’d like to think not.”

Yoongi lifts his gaze to you, carefully studying your face. “Do you ever worry,” he begins, so softly that you have to strain to make the words out, “that our feelings have been set up. By the show, I mean.” His brows furrow deeper. “We’re living in a practical paradise - luxurious house with no real jobs, our food is paid for, we’re literally getting rewarded to have sex. It’s so artificial, you know? So who’s to say that our feelings are artificial, too? I- I’ve been thinking about that a lot,” he admits with a pensive stare.

You can’t lie. You nod. “I’d like to think not,” you repeat hollowly, “but… I mean, yeah, this feels like some alternate reality, and thinking of any of you in normal, mundane, real-life scenarios seems so strange. Like, can you picture Hoseok sitting down and doing his taxes?”

Yoongi snorts, shaking his head in bemusement as a line of tension eases from his shoulders. “I hope he hires an accountant. I certainly wouldn’t trust him with my money.”

You let out a deep sigh and fall backwards onto the duvet, air punched out of you on impact. “The thing is, Yoongi,” you declare in a matter-of-fact tone, “we have no way of knowing what life will be like once all this is wrapped up so why even bother worrying?”

He turns slightly, just enough to watch you warily over his shoulder. “Maybe because I could get my heart broken?”

You pout at him. “Tell me how that’s any different from developing a crush in real life?”

He opens his mouth, furrows his brows, and closes it again. “I- Ugh. Fuck you for being correct.”

Pleased with yourself, you hide your grin as you playfully knock his side with your foot, making him recoil with a groan. “Be as cautious or as impulsive as you want, but even if all this is fake, you could’ve just as easily developed those feelings outside of the show. Like come on, if you saw Jin in the grocery store don’t tell me you wouldn’t fall in love on sight!”

Yoongi shakes his head again, a wry smile playing at his lips. “I see your point… and now I’m picturing Jin getting groceries and looking hot doing it...wow.”

You cackle at the dazed look on Yoongi’s face, using his arm to pull yourself up off the bed, patting him on the shoulder. “Good talk, champ. I’m off to chow down on the leftover pork from last night. Care to join me?”

His eyes glitter, but the doctor declines. “Yoonji said she blackmailed one of the production team to bring her fried chicken from her favourite place. She’s hiding it in the bunk room, but you didn’t hear that from me. She’s selling some to me for a small fortune, the little devil.”

“Less than half a week here and she’s already set up a black market,” you muse, “I think I may be in love with her, Yoongi.”

“Don’t you dare.”

While the kitchen is empty when you first arrive, it only takes the sizzle of pork belly in a saucepan to draw your roommates down.

Jin is first, silently rummaging in the pantry and fridge for some side dishes to add to the mix. In return, you begin boiling some hot water, adding instant coffee mix to two mugs.

As the others join, the line of mugs and glasses on the kitchen island grows, until even the two Min twins are hovering in the kitchen, looking suspicously still hungry after their illicit breakfast.

There aren’t enough chairs at the table to seat you all, but luckily Taehyung and Jungkook are happy hunched over the bench in the kitchen, sharing a set of Airpods and snickering at a seemingly endless stream of TikToks.

At the table, Namjoon, Hoseok and Yoongi chow down on their meals, the latter with a considerably smaller portion made up mostly of meat. Yoonji and Jimin are on either side of you, with Jin on one end, chewing slow to savour each bite.

It’s the first time in a while that you’ve all shared breakfast at the same time, and you’re struck with a deep feeling of fondness at this little family-like group you’re living with. Jimin sneaks extra strips of meat or spoonfuls of rice into your bowl when he thinks you’re not looking; Hoseok listens enthusiastically to Namjoon’s explanation of a summer school course he’s taking, even as he has to ask for clarification just about every second sentence; Yoongi splits his time between checking up on the two maknaes with a soft look, and scowling at his sister’s teasing comments.

“Any plans for the day?” Yoonji asks suddenly, tugging you out of your musings. She’s dressed sleekly in a black velvet mock neck shirt and high waisted denim shorts, her face as stark a resemblance to her brother as ever, with two sharp lines of black on her lids being the only visible makeup. “Except, I suppose, the mandatory fucking.”

You huff with pink cheeks, never growing used to hearing it so openly. “The days kinda blur together a little when you have no real responsibilities,” you admit, “I should probably find a hobby or something.”

Yoonji’s eyes crinkle in faux empathy. “Oh, honey, you’re gonna be so out of it when you return to the real world. You all will,” she adds, before shrugging, “except maybe Namjoon. Seems like academia doesn’t stop for anyone.”

You can’t help but agree. “He has more brain cells in his pinky finger than I do in my own body,” you swear, “he could break an arm and still type a thesis one-handed.”

Halfway through a mouthful of food, you’re rewarded to the ungraceful yet endlessly endearing sound of her snorting, a hand cupped over her mouth. After swallowing, she turns towards you to respond. “I haven’t known him for long, but that seems to check out. He’s quite the character, huh?”

You don’t miss the meaningful lilt to her voice, nor the quirk of a sharp brow. “He’s a good guy,” you reply under your breath, gaze darting down the table to where the man himself is engaged in an intensely enthusiastic discussion (okay, closer to a TedTalk) with Hoseok, now using pieces of meat to create an abstract diagram in his otherwise empty bowl. The latter looks bewildered, but is nonetheless paying deep attention to every word.

It’s impossible not to feel soft inside as you look at the pair of them, all complementary contrast. Hoseok with his slender nose and harsh facial structure and Namjoon with a round, gentle face. One of them dressed in sleek black and the other in oversized earth tones, the typically reserved one animated and the bubbly one focused in. It had taken you barely a month of shared living to become completely fond of these men, not just Namjoon and Hoseok but all of them, and as much as it was nice to have someone new in the Villa for a while, Yoonji’s presence makes you more aware of the fact that you and the seven guys had developed a certain equilibrium that seemed slightly off-balance with the change.

It makes you worry about what other disturbances this delicate system could hold, and if returning to the real world would be a shift large enough to permanently upend it.

Wishing to dispel the pessimistic narrative beginning to form, you focus in on Yoonji again. “Anyways,” you start, “how are you finding the Villa so far?”

“Certainly an interesting look behind the veil, though it’s really not ideal having to-” Yoonji’s cut off by the chirp of an incoming message on her phone. “Sorry, one sec,” she mumbles absentmindedly, but you don’t miss the way her face falls when she reads the message, immediately glancing directly across the table to where her brother sits.

To your growing concern, Yoongi is also reading a message on his phone, and he quietly excuses himself from the table, leaving his bowl half-eaten. He jerks his head towards the front door, and Yoonji manages a quick apology before they’re leaving the room.

All startled out of their separate conversations, the remaining members of the household sit in confused silence, enough that even Taehyung and Jungkook turn around from their phones.

“What’s going on?” Jungkook asks in a worried voice. “Where’s Yoongi-hyung?”

Nobody replies, Jin just shaking his head with a grim frown and leaving the table himself, going after them.

“Guys,” Taehyung says more insistently, eyes not leaving the empty seats at the table.

“They both got a text,” you say with furrowed brows, “Yoongi and Yoonji. Must’ve been bad news, judging by their faces.”

“Jin-hyung’ll find out what’s going on,” Namjoon assures, though it sounds more like he’s trying to convince himself, “let’s just clean up for them and wait for an update. Yeah?”

The two youngest nod solemnly, still with a single Airpod each bobbing in their opposite ears.

For a while, the group of you remaining sit in silence, as if caught up in some spell that would only be broken once Jin returned with some answers. The absence of Yoongi at the table is so much more pronounced, and you can’t help but feel the sickening worry swirl inside you when you look at his bowl, chopsticks strewn carelessly beside it.

Everyone is just waiting for bad news. You’ve felt this looming dread before, and it either came with a swoop of relief or a blow of despair. Your teeth find your thumbnail as you wait helplessly to see which one it’ll be.

It feels like an eternity before the door finally opens, making everyone jump, but only a few minutes have really passed. Jin is panting slightly, like he ran back from wherever Yoongi disappeared to.

“He’s-” he starts quickly, before a tremor passes over his face and he grimaces, jogging over and falling heavily into his chair at the table, face in his hands. “Their dad is in hospital. Heart attack.”

“Oh my god,” Namjoon breathes, brows knit together in sympathy. “Is he okay? Was it serious?”

Jin shrugs, looking up enough to run his hand over his face and take a shaky breath. “He’s alright for now, but apparently they need to make sure it doesn’t repeat anytime soon. If he settles, he’ll be fine, but there’s a chance that he might suffer another attack. Yoongi and Yoonji are going to the hospital now to stay with him until they’re more certain he’s stable. Just in case.”

“When is he coming back? Yoongi-hyung?” Jungkook’s eyes are wide, shiny. He can’t stop fiddling with his fingers, self-soothing.

“Not for a while, I don’t think,” Jin divulges with a pained expression. “He needs to be there for his family right now. That’s all I know, I’m sorry.”

The front door creaks, and all of you instinctively whip your heads towards it, as if Yoongi himself might be returning already, but you’re greeted with the weary face of Producer Sejin, joining you at the table, taking Yoongi’s old spot. Taehyung frowns deeply at the choice, turning his face away.

“What’s going on?” you ask quickly. “What happens to Yoongi? And us?”

“Yoongi is… He was in a rush to get going, understandably, so we didn’t speak in great depth. But he in short stated that he’d return when his father was in better health if the place was still open for him. I’ve got in contact with the higher-ups, and we’ve agreed to put the show on a temporary hold.”

“On hold?” Jungkook asks in a nervous voice. “What does that even mean?”

Sejin clears his throat stiffly and clicks his tongue. “Well. It means we’re putting a stop to the game for now, in short. If Yoongi is able to return by the end of the week, we’ll resume as usual. Otherwise, we’ll consider him to have permanently left the competition, and we’ll be forced to continue the game without him.”

You frown, fighting the urge to cry. This all feels so wrong, like he’s been taken from you with little hope of reunion, and discussing it like administration feels so clinical. “So we’re just sitting here, not knowing if he’s going to come back home, waiting around in limbo?” As soon as you finish, it feels like the word home lingers in the air longer than the rest of them. And perhaps this house doesn’t feel like home to you, but it certainly seems like six of the seven pieces of home are around you right now, and it’s not the same without him away. By the way the others are solemn and red-eyed, you probably aren’t the only one that’s begun feeling that way.

Sejin just shakes his head slowly, as subdued as you all are. “Listen, I know this isn’t ideal. The boss wanted to film it, make a big drama out of it, and then kick him off the show for views. I’m doing the best I can here to compromise and give him some dignity.”

Eyes widening, you stare at the round eyes of the cameras in the living room. “Are you- are you even allowed to say that?”

“I cut the camera feeds,” Sejin says in a defeated tone, “the show is officially off-air for technical difficulties. You can do what you want here while you wait - hell, you can leave if you want, just please be prepared to come back on the Sunday. We’ll have a discussion about whether Yoongi can return, and what we’ll do if he doesn’t. Understood?”

“Understood,” Namjoon offers up for the group, and the producer leaves with another sigh and an attempt at a comforting smile. You can’t help but feel bad for him, working such an emotionally draining job, especially when you’ve heard nothing but bad things about his employer.

Once the room falls into quiet again, Jin stands up, chair legs scraping against the floor. “Okay, I think we should decide as a group what we’re wanting to do. Stay or go?”

You open your mouth to give your two cents, but before you can, Jungkook suddenly chokes on a sob and covers his face with his hands, Jimin immediately scooting his chair closer to wrap an arm around his shaking shoulders.

“Hey, what is it?” Jimin asks quietly, but the room is so silent that you all catch it. “Talk to me, bun. What is it?”

Jungkook takes a few stuttering breaths to compose himself, sniffling. “I don’t want you all to leave too,” he confesses, Jimin’s thumb catching a tear dangling on the tip of his nose, “isn’t Yoongi-hyung enough?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” the elder promises, pressing a kiss into his hairline before looking up at the rest of you, eyes widening intentionally. “We’ll stick together through this until he comes back, yeah? It’s not all bad. The cameras are off, remember? We can have a break now, we don’t need to worry about the show. Isn’t that nice?”

After a moment’s considering, Jungkook nods slowly. “‘t is nice,” he admits begrudgingly. “But only if everyone stays.”

You can’t help but smile fondly, getting up yourself to come behind him, stroking his hair back. “We’ll stay, of course we’ll stay. Let’s spend some time together tonight, we can put on a movie and snuggle, how about that?”

He perks up at the thought of this, glancing around the table as the others nod in affirmation. “I’ll bring down the blankets,” he bargains, cracking a small smile, and the rest of the room relaxes, immediately bursting into sound as everyone arranges the necessary supplies for a good quality movie night, almost back to normal.

Jungkook, as the member of the Villa in most urgent need of a pick-me-up, is given movie choosing privileges, so the seven of you tuck in for a rewatch of his favourite Spiderman movies, perhaps the only thing that can keep him glued to the screen.

At first, the absence feels overwhelming to you. Try as you might through the opening sequence, you can’t shake it. Your mind counts heads without thinking, keeps looking at the space on the couch where Yoongi liked to put his feet up. Even though you know it’s his father who is unwell, not him, there’s the sick swelling in your stomach that makes you feel like his departure is final, and shortly after the title card plays out, you’re quietly excusing yourself and stumbling to the back door, in desperate need of fresh air.

It’s cold outside, a brisk wind cutting through you. You barely make it around the corner out of sight before your legs buckle, and you let yourself fall into a pathetic crouch, your weight propped up against the side of the house as you try to suck the chilled air into your lungs.

The panic creeps up on you in swells, the irrational fear that Yoongi would leave the show and you’d never see him again and everything would fall apart suddenly feeling like a whole tsunami crashing against you. Your fingers claw at the exterior wall as you fall back onto your behind, unable to even keep yourself in a crouch.

More so than the intrusive thoughts, it’s the image of Yoongi’s face falling, of him rushing out of the house in frantic distress that replays in your mind and leaves you suffocating. He looked so scared, your calm, reliable Yoongi. He was like a pillar, but that news was a fell swoop he couldn’t stay strong against. Your heart burns for him, cramping and aching in your chest.

For a moment, you picture yourself staying out here, gasping for breath until the sun goes down. You feel alone, more than ever since coming here, and even as the thought spooks you, there’s no energy in your body to do anything about it.

Just as your breaths start to sound more like death rattles and you curl your face towards the ground, a warmth envelopes your back, arms circling your middle and lifting you up.

“Hey, breathe, breathe with me, Y/n. I’m here.”

You recognise the voice. You recognise the built torso holding you steady, but your mind isn’t putting the pieces together, and so you simply squeeze your eyes shut and allow yourself to be maneuvered around there are hands on your face and a deep voice instructing you to look at me. I’m here; look at me.

You crack your eyes open, body heaving with the effort it takes to get any oxygen in your lungs, but you’re met with the soulful brown eyes of Kim Namjoon, narrowed in concern.

His hands are warm despite the frigid air outside, and you let yourself melt into him, eyes sinking to watch his lips mouth instructions, demonstrating exaggerated breathing for you to follow.

You feel distinctly like you might vomit, but you force yourself to match his breaths. The shuddering in and stilted out aren’t as fluid as his, but slowly your heart doesn’t thud in your ears and your body doesn’t shake as violently.

You feel damp, sweating all over, and your whole body aches, but your hearing begins to properly tune in again, coherence creeping back. “Na-Namjoon,” you gasp, wishing you had the energy to grab his arms or hug him or something other than lying limp against the wall of the house.

“Shh, hey, don’t strain yourself. Take it easy. I’m here.” He’s crouching in front of you, eyes locked onto you as he continues to hold you steady, jaw kept aloft by his hands. “Keep breathing, and it’ll go away. It’s a panic attack, I’ve had my fair share. You’ll come right.”

Trusting him despite the persisting burn in your chest, you let him coach your breathing for several more minutes, the heightened air influx making your head go light and floaty.

Once a counted breath turns into a yawn of exhaustion, you know the worst has passed. It leaves you boneless, not a single ounce of power left in your muscles, but you can breathe again, and it’s all thanks to the man across from you.

“I’ve never had one before,” you manage, voice cracking, “not like that.”

Namjoon’s lips press together in sympathy, and he turns to prop himself against the side of the house beside you, letting you continue breathing independently. “Is it Yoongi-hyung?”

You nod weakly, and the academic hums in confirmation. “I used to get panic attacks a lot in university. I used to hate them, thought they meant I was weak. Like I couldn’t handle the pressure as much as I thought I could. But, you know, these days I just figure I’m only panicking because it means so much to me. And I don’t think that makes me weak at all. It just means I care. Don’t feel ashamed about this, Y/n. All it means is that you care about hyung a lot.”

All the breath in your lungs leaves you in one rush as you prop your head in your hands, knees tucked towards your chest. “Yeah.” You wish you had something more appreciative to say, but your mind is waterlogged, weighed down and not functioning.

Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind the curt response. “I care about him a lot too. He’s like the glue for us, isn’t he? I’m worried to fall apart without him here keeping us in line. But we survived before we knew him and we’ll survive now. What’s better is supporting each other and waiting to see how we can support Yoongi-hyung, too.”

“You’re right,” you admit with a heavy breath, wiggling your toes to will energy back into them. “We’ll be okay.”

Namjoon bends sideways to bump your shoulder warmly. “That’s the spirit. Now; I’m happy to stay out here as long as you need, but Jungkook was the first one to notice you had been gone for a while, and I think he’s probably getting concerned by now. If you’re up to it, I can give you a hand to get inside and join the others again. What do you reckon?”

You lean your head back against the wall, taking a moment to consider. “What movie is he putting on next?”

“He mentioned wanting to check out Paw Patrol on Netflix.”

“Let me die out here,” you plead weakly.

Namjoon laughs, the sound like comfort itself, and stands up, offering you a hand. “Come on, kitten, up we get.”

In the end, the Netflix viewings manage to distract you for the rest of the night. When your limbs are tangled together and snacks are flowing, it’s easy to tune out of reality a bit and focus on the television screen in the comfort of shared company. Jungkook clears space on the couch for you the second you return, and clings to you for hours, his chin on your shoulder. You don’t complain, feeling soothed by the physical closeness. But the hours pass, and when the majority of you can no longer hold in your yawns, Seokjin gets up to turn the lights back on and clean up.

“Let’s get some rest,” he decides, and it’s that return to the real world that immediately dampens the atmosphere again, the group of you turning solemn. You pause to pull out your phone, sending Yoongi a quick message of support, and that you all missed him already, but no reply comes.

Without words being spoken, the seven of you remaining find yourselves flocking together as you make your way up to bed. Jin flanks the maknae as Namjoon and Hoseok lean heavily into each other, the four of them disappearing into Jin’s room. You naturally fall into step with the remaining two men, Taehyung linking his arm into yours and holding you close all the way to Jimin’s room.

Somehow, the house is too quiet. Even though Yoongi wasn’t a particularly noisy housemate, his absence cloaks the air.

You have no energy to shower. Washing your face is as much as you can manage, and Taehyung is even more despairing than you are, slumped on the toilet seat as Jimin cleans his face for him.

The uncertainty is what makes your heart flutter on edge, unable to wind down, and you know from the restrained looks of fear and distress in the guys’ eyes that they feel the same. The show would be undoubtably ruined if Yoongi couldn’t return. But more important than that, Yoongi would be ruined if he lost his father so suddenly.

Knowing Yoongi is hurting makes you ache, and you cling to your lovers like they’re your anchors in a churning sea, tucking your face firmly into Taehyung’s shoulder. It soothes you a little to be pinned between them, but the three of you still lie awake as the minutes blink by agonisingly slow.

At some point, you must fall into a fitful sleep, because when a sudden noise fills the room, it rouses you aggressively, and you almost kick Jimin’s shin in the process. Grunting, the half-asleep man rubs his face and twists around, fumbling on the nightstand for the offending noise.

It’s Taehyung’s phone, vibrating against the wooden table, and once Jimin blinks twice at the glaring screen he gasps and yanks the charger out, sitting up in bed. “It’s hyung,” he declares in a voice more vulnerable than you’d ever heard from him before. “Wake Tae.”

You force yourself to dispel those last few wisps of sleep from your brain, and gently shake Taehyung awake. According to the clock on the nightstand, it’s almost two in the morning, but your heart leaps as Yoongi’s face fills the phone screen, looking right at the three of you.

“I thought you would be together,” he states with a rueful smile, though you can see that it doesn’t quite reach his reddened eyes. “Sorry for calling so late.”

“Don’t apologise, hyung,” Taehyung whines, half of his weight on you as he leans in close, “we were so worried about you. How’s your dad?”

Yoongi’s brows furrow beneath mussed hair. “Not great,” he admits. “A little more stable, at least, but he’s pretty confused right now. Nurses worry that it might have affected his brain.”

Your heart sinks, both at the thought of a relatively young man suffering such awful health complications, but also at how Yoongi was trying to hide his exhaustion and distress. “Oh my god.”

“Mm, we should know soon what the damage is,” Yoongi explains further, rubbing his eyes with the hand not holding his phone aloft, “and if he’s alright I can head back h- head back to the Villa. He’s just been sleeping a lot today so… We don’t really know how he’ll be until he’s conscious for enough time. Yoonji’s with him at the moment, I just wanted to duck out and give you guys an update. Where are the others?”

“Jin-hyung’s room,” Jimin answers, even as he’s throwing back the covers. “They’ll want to hear from you themselves, just hold on a minute.”

You hear Yoongi’s voice echoing from the phone and strain to make out his words as Jimin heads to the door. “No, no, don’t wake them. I actually wanted to ask if you’d like to come visit? Of course none of you know my dad, and he doesn’t know you, but- Well, Yoonji and I could do with some company.”

You jump up, rushing to Jimin’s side. As he naturally accommodates your presence and pulls you flush against him, you lift your face up to the phone. “We’ll be there,” you assure Yoongi, “just please get some rest tonight. It’s been a rough day.”

Yoongi’s pained smile breaks your heart, and Jimin leads the phone back to the bed so that Taehyung can say a final goodbye before the three of you hang up and crawl, exhausted but somewhat relieved, back into bed.

#bts x reader #bts x reader smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #the gentlemen #tgm #yoongi x reader #jin x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader

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spenciegoob · 3 years

Text

Swing to the Stars

this fic swap is for @reidgraygubler ... I really hope you like it, shadow :)

A/N: AAAAH! this is my first fic swap and I’M SO EXCITED!!!!

Summary: Spencer meets someone in his little hiding spot, and desperately hopes to see them again.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Gender Neutral!Reader

Category: fluff with a dash of angst

Content Warnings: mentions of Maeve & William Reid, talk of a case involving teens, mentions of bullying, mentions of guns and pepper spray (not used)

Masterlist

Word Count: 2.4K

___

The first time I climbed that treacherous hill, dirtying my converse for all to see what my night activities truly consisted of, I was alone. I enjoyed it like that, I came here by myself, and I intended to keep it that way. When I sat on the swing dangling by two dangerously flimsy ropes, I thought how ridiculously large the slap of wood used to make it was. My elbows were bent a little over a 90 degree angle just to reach both sides, but I never thought past it. I had other things on my mind that night.

I thought about my mom. I knew she would have loved a secluded, little space like this. She would’ve probably read to me here, using different voices that held deep emotion to convey each story with a precise amount of dedication and love. Each story to her was special, and I silently thank her every day for passing that trait down to me.

Unfortunately, if I thought about my mom, I thought about my dad. William was never a kind man, and I could pride myself on one thing; I would never be like him. He didn’t deserve to know a place like this. It was too serene, too beautiful to house a man so willing to abandon the two people who should’ve been the most important to him. I was glad he would never get the chance to sit on this swing.

I thought about my family. How Garcia would jump with excitement at the prospect of having a picnic overlooking the city, yet quiet and missing the sounds of cars zooming by or overlapping chatter. I thought about JJ, and how Henry would beg her to push him in the swing, because to a little kid, it was perfect. He didn’t look at the frayed rope and fear that it would snap. I hope he never starts to fear the world like that.

The second time I found myself back at the bottom of the hill, I made it halfway to the top before seeing a couple getting up from the swing they were sitting together on. I realized then why it was so comically large; it was meant for two people. Thankfully when I reached the top only half out of breath, the two were starting their descent to where I came from.

This time when I sat down, I thought about Maeve. I would’ve brought her here, shared the little secret corner of the world I built for myself. She would’ve loved something like this, and I know if life wasn’t so cruel, and I was given the chance to show her, we would’ve talked for hours. So that’s what I did that time; I talked to Maeve. To anyone else, I probably looked like a crazy person talking to himself, but much to my delight, not many people made the trip up the hill to find this place.

Now I go whenever I need a break from my mind, which unfortunately is more times than my schedule allows me to take that leisurely walk. I spend my nights sometimes after a particularly hard case there no matter the time, using the ropes that scratch my hands as my lifeline down to Earth. I watch the stars, screaming and cursing at the world in my head and waiting for the sky to respond. It never did, and the next case always came in the following morning.

This particular time that I found myself at the bottom of the grassy hill waiting to be climbed, the case I just returned from involved kids across the board. A teenage unsub was killing his fellow classmates that have wronged him. Unfortunately, the BAU had to witness his stressor recorded for the whole school to see. It involved vile insults being thrown at the young, defenseless boy only for the bullying to escalate to violence.

It was awful.

As I trudged up the hill with less excitement to look into the vast unknown than usual, I couldn’t stop thinking about the unsub. All he wanted in life was a friend, someone to talk to, laugh with, share memories together. No matter how wrong it was, I saw myself in him. Our souls held the same scars given to us by people who had no right to go digging for such a deep part of ourselves. If I didn’t make it, would I have turned out like him?

When I reached the top, completing my journey once again, I saw them. Sitting there, staring out into the sky, mimicking my thoughts to do the same on the jet ride home. I could only make out half their face lit up by the light casting down from the full moon, but I didn’t need to see more to know they were breathtaking.

I would have turned around to return home to nothing more than books reread thousands of times and stale coffee, but I already made the mistake of stepping on a rather large branch that broke in half. The crunch coming from their right immediately had them on edge, and reaching for their bag that I could only assume had some sort of weapon inside. I hope it was legal.

I felt terrible for breaking them from the trance they were in. They were deep in thought about something that was probably going to become a solution if I hadn't interrupted their musing.

“H-hi, I’m sorry to scare you. I didn’t expect anyone here this late. Not that you being here is a problem! I didn’t mean to disturb you,” I frantically shouted, although there was less distance between us than I originally thought, and probably seemed crazed by my volume level.

They just giggled at first, but upon seeing my distraught expression, their face turned more kind than humorous.

“That’s okay. I’m just glad I didn’t jump so fast to pepper spray you. That would definitely be the worst case scenario.” I let out a breath of relief for some reason. Here I was, in front of a total stranger thankful that their weapon of choice wasn’t a gun. I’ve been on the wrong end of too many during my years.

“Did you know Chemical Mace, more commonly known as pepper spray, was invented in the 1960s by a man named Alan Lee Litman and his wife Doris Litman at the time. Their reason was actually because one of Doris’s female coworkers was attacked and robbed, so they thought to create a nonlethal weapon with easy accessibility and use, considering not everyone is able to use a gun. It wasn’t until 1987 however that the Litman’s sold their creation to Smith and Wesson where it was mass produced and later sold to law enforcement.”

“Wow, I don’t think I did.” They laughed again, but something in my heart told me it wasn’t meant to come with malicious intent. “Do you do that a lot?”

“Do what?” I asked, even though I had some inclination of what they were referencing.

“Spout random facts. I’m not complaining, that was very cool, but I am fully intrigued.” They smiled again at me fondly, the kind of smile that left me a little breathless, even more so than the 45 degree incline I had to climb to find myself in front of them. There was nothing to convince me they weren’t authentic in every word they stated.

“I do it quite often, yes. It gets annoying after a while though.” It was true, I was told on many occasions that my rambling got old very fast. I suppose that’s what happens when you’re close to me for too long. I tend to stop being the awe-striking genius, and become the nagging, walking encyclopedia.

“I don’t see how that could become annoying.” It sounded sad coming from them, like I had insulted their oddity. I would never, and I was really hoping to find out what it was.

I had nothing further to say that would express my shock, and slight fondness over their praise, wary of its honesty even if it did come from them. I hadn’t known them for more than 4 minutes and 36 seconds, but it was enough to figure out that they weren’t a liar. It wasn’t from profiling either.

“You know, there is room for two people here if you wanted to join me. I’m sure you didn’t climb that hill for nothing.” They continued for me. If they noticed my surprise, they said nothing about it.

Usually, I would be skeptical of being in a close proximity with a stranger, but as I approached them carefully, even if their hand was no longer reaching for mace, I felt the passing between our eyes. It was as if we had shared every part of ourselves with eye contact, and as crazy as it sounds, I felt the somber thoughts that lingered from their previous reflections.

So I sat down, grabbing onto only one of the scratchy ropes, and enjoying the way I could rest my elbow against my side now that I was using the swing to its fullest potential. I stopped caring about the probability of the ropes snapping under our combined body weight. The worst that could possibly happen was I bruised my tailbone a little bit, but I wouldn’t care past the initial embarrassment. At least I had someone to show that with.

“Do you ever think about what’s out there?” They asked once I was settled on the wood slab as comfortably as I could muster. Being boney didn’t necessarily help. Before I could answer, they continued. “I can tell you’re a man of science, if the fact dump wasn’t any indicator, but I mean beyond the facts, and the known.”

“No, I don’t think about it.” It was a lie, I think about it every time I’m here, but I wanted nothing more in this moment than to know how they saw the stars.

“I do. Quite frequently, actually. I mean, I’ve read every book there ever was about the stars and space, but there is still no answer to my question.”

“What question?” I had to know.

“What’s exactly written in the stars,” they replied, using their hands to showcase the sky above us. I sat back and thought for a while. Like the books they’ve read, I too didn’t have the response to their question. God, how I wish I did.

I don’t know how long we sat there quietly. One of the perks of total darkness in the dead of night is that the moon couldn’t tell time the way the sun did. We got lost in the cosmos together, contemplating sharing our own troubled thoughts with each other. It would have felt right if we did, but alas, the ringing of my cell phone dropped a pin in our reflections.

“I- I’m sorry, I have to take this,” I rushed out before standing up and accepting the incoming call from Penelope. I knew it was a case before her bubbly voice rang through my celular. I allowed the disappointment to bleed through my tone when I told her I would be back at the BAU shortly, hoping that the small release of the emotion would be enough to ward it off in time to turn back around.

It didn’t.

They were already looking at me expectantly when I made my way back to the swing, bending down to retrieve my satchel I had abandoned on the ground. The amount of guilt on my face must have been enough to tell them I had to leave abruptly, despite the fact that the only thing I wanted to do was stay for even just a second.

“That’s okay,” they spoke softly, giving me a tight lipped smile. “We’ll see each other again.”

“How do you know?” I couldn’t help but be skeptical. Life never did work out in my favor. They looked up at the sky once more before answering.

“Just a feeling.” I let a full grin break out at their response, the first one I’ve had when visiting this place. I turned around to start my journey back to the office where dark, and twisted things lurked behind manilla folders. Before starting my descent however, I spun around quickly, almost losing my footing and taking a tumble.

“Woah there tiger, don’t hurt yourself,” they giggled at me, one that I returned with my own breathy laugh.

“I just don’t know your name.” It baffled me a little bit that I hadn’t thought to ask before this, but they just gave me one last smile, tilting their head in faux contemplation.

“Ask me next time.” I will.

***

It’s been a year since I met them, and I haven’t seen them since. Not for a lack of trying however. After that case, I went there every night until a new one arose, this time taking me to Oregon. They hadn’t been back, and part of me wondered if it was because of me. Did I not try hard enough the first time? Should I have ignored my ringer until my phone had 5 missed calls from Penelope?

But then my eidetic memory swooped in to save me from going down that road, one of the only times it wasn’t the cause of my self destructive thoughts. Because while I replayed the conversation over in my head wondering where it went wrong, I remembered their eyes, and their smile.

I remembered what it felt like to sit with them, and thankfully that was enough to convince myself our meeting wasn’t in vain.

I never was the kind of man to believe in the universe. The whole notion that “everything happens for a reason,” felt like a lie created to somehow blame an external force on the chaos in one’s life. There were so many things in my life that had no reason for happening, and to blame that on anything or anyone but myself would be a cheap excuse of a way out.

But for some odd reason, the universe aside, I believed in them, and strangely enough, I don’t think they would have blamed me for the life I had to live. So, as I sit down tonight on this familiar piece of wood, I choose to stare at the stars instead of the ground, and believe that if I spoke aloud, maybe they would hear me.

And they did, because my efforts to sit on one side of the swing in case they returned to me were not in vain. I didn’t look over, I didn’t have to to know it was them. I had already relaxed once their presence was known in my peripherals.

“Y/N,” they spoke, causing me to change my view on the stars to their side profile. It wasn’t all that different than staring at the constellations spread around us. “My name’s Y/N.”

___

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lucy90712 · 3 years

Text

Georgenotfound- cooking stream

wc- 1920

~ George woke me up this morning at around 9am which is unusual for him he is never up at this time let alone waking me up for anything other than for me to join his stream. I knew exactly why he was waking me up as well because today he is doing a cooking stream and he wanted my help.

We had already rented an airbnb so that people couldn't work out where we lived and now today we had to get ingredients and move his set up over to the airbnb for the stream. I told George to decide what he wanted to make and I would look up recipes and make a list of ingredients because I just knew that he would do something wrong and the stream would turn out awful, I also had a backup plan that I haven't told George about just incase things go south.

I was still recovering from my sleeping state when the warm covers were ripped off my body and I was pulled forcefully from the comfortable mattress underneath me by my own boyfriend. What a traitor. He dragged me somewhere else in the house I wasn't quite sure where because my eyes were still adjusting to being open and needing to be used but I soon worked out we were in the kitchen and George was getting breakfast for the both of us.

"You know you could have just asked me to get up instead of dragging me out of bed" I said

"I know but thats no fun and plus I never get to wake you up so I thought I'd have fun with it" he replied

Classic George. Any chance he gets he will try and annoy me or make fun of me for some reason but I love me him so I deal with it. He got two bowls from the cupboard and poured cereal into them as well as some milk and giving me one of the bowls without a spoon but I moved past that after all it was early morning and George doesn't function at that time.

I went into the cutlery draw and got two spoons for us because George had yet to realise he was going to have to eat his cereal with his hands. I found him sat at the table that we have looking around clearly wondering where he had put the spoon he was sure he had grabbed.

I decided to play a little bit of a prank on him by putting his spoon somewhere random in the room and sat down with mine to make him even more concerned. He looked at me and the look on his face was priceless he was so bamboozled about what he'd done.

"Are you alright?" I asked

"No I can't remember where I put my spoon" he said

"Wow you really aren't a morning person are you" I said

He looked at me as I got up and walked over to where I put the spoon and grabbed it giving it to him.

"Did I seriously put it over there?" He asked

"No you never even got them out the draw so I'll let you decided if thats better or worse" I said

We ate breakfast together before George went to shower and I got dressed for the day because I showered last night. George had told me that he got outfits for us for the actual stream so I didn't bother getting dressed up in any way I just put on some leggings and one of George's hoodies that I took from his wardrobe. Sometimes he gets annoyed at me when I steal his favourite hoodies but this one is one of his many versions of his merch so he won't be too annoyed at me.

George came out the shower as I was doing my makeup and he grabbed his grey merch hoodie that he wears all the time so we would be matching today. He didn't seem to notice at first but as soon as he was ready he came over to sit with me as I finished off my makeup like he often does and that was when he properly looked at me.

"Did you steal my hoodie?" He asked

"Yes I did what are you going to do about it?" I said

"Nothing because you look cute in it" he said

I smiled at him and he took my hand to take me out the door to go to the shops and get everything that he needed for his stream. George never let go of my hand the whole car ride and the whole time at the shops, he can be very affectionate when he wants to be like some days he won't want to let go of me and other days he will be so consumed with work that we barely talk. Today's stream is going to be difficult if he's this attached to me but we'll work it out.

While getting all of the things we needed someone came up to George while I was further up the isle getting the right spices. George can get kind of awkward around fans in real life but then he gets even more nervous when he's with me even though the fans know he just finds it weird for people to see us out together.

I left him to talk to the fan and just looked at the wall of various spices that really meant nothing to me but I didn't want George to feel too awkward. That was until I looked over and he had a look of desperation so I walked over to him and he put his arm around my waist, he squeezed me slightly for reassurance. He used me as an excuse to stop the conversation he was having and the fan left us alone.

He told me all about the interaction and said it was super awkward because they didn't really know who he was just recognised him and was asking all sorts of personal questions he wasn't comfortable answering.

After leaving the shop we went home to get most of George's set up before heading to the air bnb to set everything up ready for later. George went into the house while I sat in the car mainly because he said he didn't need my help.

We spent a good few hours setting everything up and starting testing streams to see if everything was working and if camera angles were good. Once it was all ready George went to get the outfits he had brought for us, he handed me mine and I went to put it on. He had got me a proper chef top with buttons and everything and some black leggings to wear with it as well as a chef hat of course.

George started his stream without me so that I could watch it just incase something had broken in the time between when we finished setting it up and now. When I decided that everything was working fine I went into the kitchen to go and join him and get this thing started.

"Chat we also have a special guest this stream" he said

I walked into the view of the camera and the chat started spamming my name and this ship name they have given me and George which kind of doesn't work but they like it so we go with it.

"Hey chat" I said

We got on with cooking and George grabbed what we needed and started preparing things as I read the instructions to him. He did keep getting distracted by various different things and people that were calling him but we managed to do most of it in the end.

First we made mozzarella sticks which was pretty easy and then we moved onto cooking a steak and making chips which wasn't as easy. I offered to cook the steak because I didn't trust George but he wouldn't let me incase I hurt myself which I thought was funny because if anyone was going to get hurt it was him.

Anyway the both of us survived that and frying the mozzarella sticks which was more dangerous and then we got made fun of by Sapnap, dream, bbh and Quackity for calling crepes pancakes even though they are pancakes. (I will not be taking criticism on this) they kept insisting that what we were making wasn't pancakes but we held strong with our argument and won in the end with the help of the British viewers in chat.

When everything was made and we had tried it all we just kind of stood about talking to dream who was the only one left in the call. By now George couldn't bare to be away from me any longer so he put his arm around me and pulled me into his chest, he was not about to let go anytime soon so I gave in and put my head into his chest settling in.

Dream got George to follow his instructions he gave him which involved taking off his hat and headphones then he told him to mess up his hair, as soon as he said this I knew what he was doing and I appreciated it. George always styles his hair when he gets up but I love it when its messy although he never leaves it like that.

George messed up his hair and then went to the sink to get it wet and then messed it up more, he looked so good like that I almost got scared that his stream would see me blushing over just how hot he looked.

"What? I've never seen your hair like that" dream said

"I mean I like your messy hair" I said

"Wait you like it?" George asked

"Yeah of course I do" I said

"Well I guess I'm doing my hair like this from now on" he said

I smiled ruffling up his hair more to make it look exactly how I like it which his chat also appreciated, they were loving this just as much as I was. George ended his stream after like 4 hours making it just past 11pm. We packed up all of George's set up and cleaned the place before starting the drive back home.

By the time we got boys back home I was super tired but I had promised George that I would help him take all of his stuff back inside and set it back up which was going to take a while and I was not looking forward to it.

It took us two hours to set everything back up, I thought I was tired before but now I was exhausted I could barely move I just wanted to be in bed asleep. I tried to get up from my position on the floor but my legs were too weak so George had to pick me up and carry me to our bedroom where he put me down on the bed and chucked a hoodie at my face for me to wear. I got into the covers and pulled them up to just under my chin getting comfy as George got in too placing his arm over me and hugging me from behind which is how we normally sleep. My eyes gradually got heavier as George whispered things into my ear until I couldn't keep them open anymore and sleep took over.

#georgenotfound x reader #georgenotfound #george #george x reader #gnf #dsmp #mcyt

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doubledgesword-2 · 3 years

Note

Can I get Vil Schoenheit x Rival Celebrity? They shoot insults at each other but end up flirting? Take it as far as you want! Any gender reader is fine lol

Oh, ma Gooosh!! This is the first Matcha Tea I've gotten, and I'm all for this. I had so much fun with this one, and I want to show you lil' sugar cubes the difference between characters I know and the ones that I don't. I do my research before writing a character that I'm unfamiliar with, but I will be sincere: I butchered the last request (Shalnark's). I will try to rewrite it, but other characters apart from the stated ones are a bit hard for me ( ˘︹˘ ).

I will always try my best for ya'll! Enjoy this steaming Matcha (❛‿❛✿)

“What a shameless potato,” nimble fingers scrolled down on their phone, looking at the menagerie of pictures from one single account: yours.

You and Vil were from the same industry, just not the same department per se. While he was a model and actor, you were a j pop star and actress. Your popularity and his were on the same level, but he was slightly higher if you asked him or his fans. Ever since the two of you met on set for a fantasy-like movie, you repelled each other’s presence like oil and water.

Amethyst eyes glared at your smiling picture, and a thousand critiques passed through his mind. Your make-up did not complement your features; what was your make-up artist thinking? That nail polish didn’t match with your skin, and your haircut didn’t go with your face and countless other thoughts. But that wasn’t his place to tell, and besides, you living in his head rent-free wasn’t good for his skin. Stress kills, and thinking about you was very stressful.

The subway doors opened, and Vil gripped his side bag, adjusting his beret and sunglasses and walking out with the amount of confidence and power it took to walk down the runway. The sea of people diligently coming and going parted for him without a cue. They just did like mindless fish around a predator. It was in their nature to give in, in the presence of something so regal.

Vil had a photoshoot to go, and he couldn’t miss a beat. His agenda was full and complicated; anyone who tried to follow it would surely lose their minds after the first three days of the same arduous pace. But he could handle it with the grace of a swan. He was the great Vil Shoenheit. He wondered if you could handle a week in his shoes. You probably would drop exhausted and disheveled, complaining about the hard work. The thought made him smirk smugly, and passerby fans who recognized him couldn’t even keep up to ask for an autograph.

He just couldn’t fathom how you had such a fan base with your attitude and manners. Sure, in front of the cameras, you were a sweetheart, stealing everyone’s hearts, singing like an empowered angel, and making them think you were as far from the villain he knew you truly were. Vil knew your kind and recognized it the moment he met you on set. Heck, you couldn’t even contain your disdain in interviews when the two of you had to sit side by side. It was uncomfortable, to say the least; the poor reporter was so painfully awkward trying to alleviate the tenseness in the room.

“So (Y/N), how do you feel being an actress in a big-budget movie while also singing and performing the next week? Is it exhausting?”

You sided glared at Vil, and gave the reporter a smug grin. “Well, I think I can handle a little bit of work. It’s not in me to sit around and look pretty, you know. But then again, I guess that’s what some people are into, so we can’t judge them. They might not understand hard work.”

Vil smiled with closed eyes. You were such an amateur. If it weren’t for the fact that you were actively throwing shade on him and being so annoying at it, too, he might think you were cute.

Of course, Vil wouldn’t back down; that’s not what he was taught. The crown was his, and he would take it with hard work and determination. Which means potatoes like you don’t really matter in the long run of things.

“Vil-senpai, how do you manage your modeling gig and your acting? I mean, it must be hard to run from one event to the next since they’re so close behind each other?”

“Well, dear, we models are more than just a pretty face. We represent big companies and events that many couldn’t even fathom getting into. My schedule might be a bit tight, but I was born into this lifestyle, and I have learned many skills to help me move and work in these types of environments. I can say one thing for sure not a lot of people can handle my agenda, one day in my heels, and they might slip if you know what I mean, darling.”

You scoffed under your breath, and it made Vil’s smile grow wider.

“Ahh, Vil-senpai is a hard worker for sure. Perhaps one day I could do an interview that can provide insight to one day of your agenda.”

“Anytime you want, darling, it would be lovely,” he knew with every word that came out of his mouth; you simmered even more.

“Are there any hobbies or activities that can fit into your schedules?

Vil was about to open his mouth when you beat him to it.

“Well, I don’t think he’s allowed to have any, you know, with his busy schedule. But I do love partaking in (hobby). I think it is a nice way to unwind and take my mind off of everything. Since stress it’s not good for your vocals, you know. I try to keep myself in top shape for my lovely fans.”

Vil was raging. How dare you interrupt him when he was clearly about to talk. Didn’t your parent taught you any manners, or are you so much of a spoiled brat to care for?

“Ahh, interesting. Does Vil Sendai have any hobbies in particular?

“As a matter of fact, I do” you were looking at him with an expectant smirk. You were genuinely curious to hear what he had to say. “I like to make beauty and make-up tutorials that are beneficial for a lot of my fans. I like to show them how to use brushes correctly what and what not to do with concealer. Those are bonding moments for me and my fans. I think they are important.”

At the end of that interview, a single question brought the anger and tense meter to burst. Now the tensions and dislikes weren’t palpable. They were visible.

“Oh, I’ve had some partners, but I like to focus more on my work, unlike some other artists who like to jump around; my projects come first, and I don’t want to ruin my partner’s and I relationship by not spending enough time with them.”

“Wow, he really doesn’t like to have fun.”

“I do just not with the likes of you.”

“Come on, pretty boy, you couldn’t handle me even if you were begging pretty on your knees.”

“Dream on, potato, you might be prettier than most potatoes, but you’re still that a potato with some potential. I bet if push came to shove, you wouldn’t last seconds with me.

“I bet you wouldn’t make it into the second round without having to retouch your make-up with me. Besides, it’s not like you’ll last long enough to even sweat that much.”

“Well, that’s a relief to know I wouldn’t have to put much effort into pleasing someone like you.”

The reporter was utterly flushed, and that was cut from the interview recording. Good thing that it was, or people might’ve gotten the wrong impression. That you liked each other or something.

Or something.

After that interview, rumors spread like they always do, and fans started gossiping about the two of you secretly together but having to hate each other in public to save face since it’s a big rumor that singers and models don’t actually go well together in the industry.

Such wild imagination and machinations fans have. It brought out a small chuckle.

Vil passed through the automatic doors telling the receptionist his name and guiding him to the set. Once there, he settled his stuff over the make-up table and sat back to look once more through his phone.

“Have you seen this?” A text notification annoying appeared on the screen.

Vil tch and opened the message to reveal a very well photoshopped photo of him and you sitting and drinking at some café. You were smiling like he just told you you were beautiful, and it was a good look on you.

This was outrageous. Who would go to such lengths? Suddenly a bag dropped right on the table next to him. He looked up to meet your eyes as you took off your sunglasses, slowly realizing who was sitting beside you.

“Oh no,” you faintly muttered underneath your breath but not faintly enough that Vil couldn’t hear you.

He scoffed and went back to look at the stupid picture, texting his manager as mad as he was.

“Oh, you saw it too,” you commented, sitting down and looking at your own phone.

Vil didn’t answer. He really didn’t care about your opinion on this; his credibility was on the line. He was supposed to hate you, and that’s how things should go.

“Well, at least they got a good angle of my face, not to mention I’m actually smiling for once.”

“Actually, smil- what are you talking about potato? All you do is smile in all of your pictures. That’s why you have to hide your wrinkles with make-up,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing.

“Well, as presumptuous as that was, proud little peacock, I actually never smile genuinely for the cameras. My genuine smile is reserved for good moments. I guess not anymore.”

At that, Vil felt like the two of you clicked. He knew the feeling, the invasive nature of fame, and the lack of privacy was very real in the industry. It’s the first thing you have to get through. But listening to you say made him realize you’re just like him.

“Well, if you behave during the shoot, I might feel inclined to reward you for good behavior” he grinned at you.

“Mmm, you make it sound as if you don’t like the way I make you crumble in front of everyone. It’s like you’re denying yourself the pleasure, and here I thought you liked the masochism.”

“Hahahaha, I’ll step on you once we’re done here. Maybe that and a little bit of discipline will put you in your place. However, your lack of manners and running mouth might be a problem; perhaps all you need is a nice pacifier. I can help with that.”

You both were so close to each other muttering salacious threats that you didn’t realize how flustered everyone else was in the room.

It was going to be another one of those shoots.

#twisted wonderland #vil x reader #vil x mc #vil shoenheit #twisted wonderland fandorm #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland fic #fanfiction #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland vil #disney twst #twst vil

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noel-fielding-web-page · 3 years

Text

'Making TV during Covid is like being a hostage'

Noel Fielding on the return of Never Mind The Buzzcocks

As Never Mind The Buzzcocks is rebooted for Sky, returning team captain Noel Fielding reflects on how it – and he – has changed over the years.

What did you think when you heard that they were bringing the show back and wanted you to return as a team captain?

Well, usually I’d be like, ‘Never go backwards. Never go back,’ but I did it for five years and I became really good friends with Phill Jupitus. I love Phill, and we just got on really, really well. So I was half thinking, ‘Should I do this without him?’ I knew he wasn’t doing it. He’s gone back to art school, he’s in Scotland now living his best life.

But the reason I said yes is because I’m such a big fan of Greg Davies and Daisy May Cooper. They’re two of my favourite comedians, they’re two people that really make me laugh. So, I just thought, ‘Well, I know this show and I can’t not do it if those two are doing it, because they’re so good.’

I did Taskmaster, and literally I laughed all the way through it. Greg was cracking me up all the time. I just thought, ‘This is going to be really good. It’s a deadly combination.’

Did you feel any nerves at all sitting back in the captain’s seat?

Not really, but I had to slightly reposition myself mentally, because I suppose when I did it originally, I was much younger. I still feel like I’m 32, even though I’m not. I’m looking forward to the John Cooper Clarke years, where you’re still dressing ridiculously, you’ve got your ski suit on, and your crazy boots, and people go, ‘Oh yeah, it’s him.’

John Cooper Clarke is my hero, he’s still rock and roll, he manages to pull it off. And I saw him on Antiques Road Trip, and I just thought, ‘Well, if you can make Antiques Road Trip cool, that is the coolest thing ever.’

You must miss the social element of the show then?

Yeah, I would love if there was a bit more of a social aspect to it, because I feel like bonding-wise, it’s great if you can all go out and get smashed occasionally, because it just helps.

But I just feel lucky that we can still do television, because of the pandemic, not everyone can do the job they were doing.

You’re up against Daisy, how competitive does it get between you?

Well, I’ve realised I’m getting thrashed, which is killing me! I think Daisy has a really weird knowledge of Britney type pop music, that I don’t have.

That’s slightly my weak point, is that I’m not big on that kind of pop stuff. I know it, but I just don’t know as much of it.

Daisy seems to know every lyric to every pop act. She knows Bieber lyrics, and stuff like that, which I’m hopeless at. I know Bieber exists, but I know it’s not for me! I think Daisy, so far, has been quite lucky with the guests. She’s had Lauren Laverne, who’s just like an encyclopaedia of music.

But I’ve never been that bothered about winning. I’m always trying to be funny, instead of giving the right answer, or I just have a laugh with my team.

Jamali Maddix floats between both teams, what’s it like having him on the show?

Jamali’s amazing, actually. I’d seen his stand-up and I thought he was really good, but he’s been brilliant on this. He’s quite a good counterpoint to Greg, because he’s coming from such a different angle, of youth, because Greg is always playing the old man card! Jamali is the person that’s going, ‘Right Greg, this is what’s cool. This is what’s happening’, but Greg’s like, ‘I’ve got no fucking clue,’ which is hilarious.

Some people might say that the music scene is not as wild now as it was back in the day. What do you think to that?

I think it’s different. I think that there have been a few guests on who are definitely rock and roll, but in a different way to what was classified as rock and roll, I suppose,. What was quite funny is, there’s a rapper called Aitch, and I don’t know how young he is. He’s very young, 21, 22 maybe. And he was saying that his guilty pleasure was Razorlight, and I was laughing, ‘I used to knock around with Razorlight, wow, my generation are being described as a sort of guilty pleasure!’ It was cracking me up.

The kids are always doing something different, and as you get older, you think, ‘Oh, it’s not as good as my generation,’ but, it probably is, it’s just different. I’m sure I used to say that to my mum and dad. They were very rock and roll, so it was very hard to out-rock and roll my parents. They used to go to see David Bowie, and Led Zeppelin. When I was growing up, the only way I could really rebel was by listening to Adam Ant, and stuff like Duran Duran, which they thought was just pop stuff, because they were the real deal rock and roll.

What’s the vibe of the show this time around?

Well, I feel like because Greg’s in control, it’s a little bit out of control to begin with, and I feel like Daisy’s energy is quite mad as well. And then I’m quite weird! The young pop stars that are coming on, and rappers are going, ‘I was a bit nervous, I thought I was going to get torn to pieces, but actually I really enjoyed that.’

The great thing about Buzzcocks is it’s a place where you can see your favourite bands, or singers, or rappers, or whatever, and you can get to know what they’re like. There are not many programmes where that happens any more.

I feel like we’re giving them space to shine a bit as well. I feel like Greg’s really warm and giggly, but he’s also so funny. Daisy’s a sort of wild card, and I’m quite surreal. And Jamali’s got a whole different thing going on, so I feel like we’re coming at it from loads of different angles.

I feel like the vibe is quite mad tea party. It’s nice, it’s a little bit out of control. I feel like if there were fewer restrictions because of the pandemic, we’d probably be all rolling about together, where Daisy would be jumping on you, and Greg would be rolling about. I feel like it would be quite a tactile show. One of my big memories of doing Buzzcocks before was being chased around the set by Lorraine Kelly.

I feel like another series would just descend into absolute carnage, definitely. It’s just TV gold, right there.

What have the guests been like?

There’s been some great guests. Obviously, we had Bez and Shaun Ryder, which was fantastic, they’re such a brilliant double-act and such funny characters. There’s been a lot of stuff that we’ve been laughing at, that I’m not sure will make the show. Daisy said to me she really hopes there’s just an extra episode of bloopers and outtakes.

One of the games looks at pre-show rituals, do you have one?

It’s quite difficult now because you’re not allowed to come out of your dressing room until the last minute, so it is like a hostage situation. Then, you do the show, you get bundled into the taxi, and you’re gone. It’s a bit like a dream, it’s like you’ve been kidnapped, and then put in front of a TV audience, done some stuff, shown off for a bit, and then you’re back in the car. You go, ‘Did that happen?’

Apparently, Daisy revealed her obsession with ghosts during filming?

Daisy’s the weirdest person I’ve ever met… She’s so hilarious. I think her cleaner, who came to the show, is a medium as well. You couldn’t really write that, could you? And, oh my God, she literally loves dancing. She’s always out of her chair, busting moves. I think she’d probably win Strictly if she was ever invited on it. She should definitely do it!

• Never Mind The Buzzcocks returns to Sky Max at 9pm next Tuesday, September 21.

Published: 14 Sep 2021

[x]

#Noel Fielding #Never Mind The Buzzcocks #Info #Interview

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13uswntimagines · 3 years

Text

I Should Sleep With You More Often (Sam x Reader)

Sequel to Works Like a Charm where Sam and Reader finally get together. It’s a very fluffy piece, with a little bit of late night breakfast making and a surprise kiss.

special thanks to @literaryhedgehog cause this wouldn’t have happened without her.

Hello?”

“Hey, I can’t sleep.” Sam’s voice comes over the phone, getting straight to the point with frustration.

“And you’re calling me about it? At 3 am. I could have been asleep you know.” You huff into the phone, pinning it between your chin and your shoulder.

“Were you?” She asks, and you can almost see her eyebrow quirking up.

You look down at the frying pan where you were about to pour your egg-cheese scramble. “No. But still.”

“Don’t worry, I appreciate the irony of the situation,” she says, with an attempt at humor. “can I come over?”

“Sure. You can split my omelet.” You hum, your tongue poking out as you make sure the entire omelet landed on the plate instead of the floor.

“Omelette?” Sam asked, sounding amused. “I thought you weren’t supposed to --”

“Eat anything after 9 pm I know, I know. But I woke up and was hungry, and couldn’t just ignore it to fall back asleep for two hours. I had to eat something or I was going to get nauseous.” You interrupted her, waving your hand dismissively.

“What?” Sam asked entirely confused.

“You know that feeling, where you’re like, so hungry that you get kind of nauseous?” You tried to explain again.

“No…” She trailed off.

“Oh, well it’s the worst. I like to try to eat something before it gets too bad because otherwise, the food won’t do anything. Anyway, I made enough you can have half of it, just let me know when you get here so I can send down the elevator for you.” You said, whipping your hands off and walking towards the door.

“I’m actually just parking,” Sam’s voice came sheepishly over the phone. In the background, you heard the unmistakable sound of her car being locked. She always insisted on clicking the lock button twice so it would beep, like she didn’t trust it to lock the first time.

You shook your head and left your apartment to buzz her into the building. “You’re telling me that at 3 am, before even checking to see if I was awake, you just decided to come to my apartment because you couldn’t sleep?”

“Yes?”

“You’re insane,” you said, hanging up the phone as the elevator door opened to reveal her tall frame.

She ruffled the hair at the back of her neck, grinning. “I knew you would be awake?”

“Bullshit.” You led the way back to your apartment and grabbed two plates from the cabinet. “You want soy milk?”

“What?”

“Soy milk. I’ve got vanilla or dark chocolate.” For some reason, soy milk helped reduce the insomnia nausea more than anything else most days. Still, the omelet smelled amazing.

“Um sure, vanilla please.” She shrugged, and you rolled your eyes. Vanilla was for the weak.

You pulled out both cartons and two glasses, before cutting the omelet in half and handing her a fork.

“Don’t I get my own plate?” Sam whined, cutting off a piece of the Omelet and popping it into her mouth.

“People who come barging into my apartment at 3 AM have to share with the host. Unless you wanna do dishes?” You raised your eyebrow at her, pointing your fork in her direction, smirking when she emphatically shook her head no.

She quickly changed the subject, avoiding your eyes as she ate. “So how are you liking your apartment, it’s new right?”

“Yeah, I moved in four months ago, you know when I suddenly got traded to North Carolina,” you said, a very bitter edge in your voice. How Mark could let you leave the thorns you would never know, but at least Hinkle was retiring.

You took another bite “So why couldn’t you sleep? At camp, you’re usually snoring like a freight train by now.”

Sam paused mid-bite, fork in the air. She looked like she was debating how to answer then, stuffed her last piece of omelet in her mouth. “I donb snowe.”

“You totally do. Rose even sent me the video evidence if you wanna see it,” you smirked, standing to go get your phone.

“No!” Sam jumped up and you sprinted across the kitchen to get out of her reach, grinning. “You really don’t have to do that, it’s not a big deal.”

“Oh, but I really don’t mind,” you taunted, starting for your phone before Sam tackled you. Well, it wasn’t a tackle so much as a grab, but she had a good foot and a half on you, so same difference really.

“Put me down. This is highly unnecessary,” you sputtered, laughing from Sam’s shoulder. “I’m not supposed to exercise within an hour of bed. My therapist would be unhappy with so much activity.”

“Yeah cause eating an Omelette at 3 am is totally something she would approve,” Sam rolled her eyes, as she tossed you onto your couch.

“Lies and slander. I won’t get the alleged snoring video, but seriously. Why are you here?”

Sam sighs, and slouches onto the couch next to you, dropping her head into your lap. You smile down at her, liking this new angle. While you certainly didn’t mind being the baby of the team, it was kind of nice to do the petting for once.

“I don’t know,” Sam said, furrowing her eyebrows.

“You were never a good liar. It’s why everyone catches you when you try to pull pranks. I hear it helps if you talk about it,” You murmured, using your thumb to smooth out the crease that formed between her eyes.

“Fine, I couldn’t sleep because I kept having nightmares. It felt like, I was tossing and turning for hours, and then every time I dozed off, my brain came up with these fucked up images. Like, silence of the lambs shit. I could sell some horror film director the plotlines and make bank, I’m telling you. And since Rose and Wilma moved out, my place has felt so empty. It felt like, the panic attacks I used to have before games. When I had to always bring a bag with me to hyperventilate into before I could get my mind on the game.”

You frowned. “I don’t remember that.”

“Once you became my bus buddy I didn’t have that problem. You got me out of my own head with fun word games and stupid jokes. Remember that time you gave me the sentence ‘The quick brown fox jumps over the lazy dog?’ You kept grinning telling me to stop stressing out, it would be alright, to just guess a letter.”

“Because whatever you guessed would be right.” You hum smiling down at her.

“You couldn’t take that shit-eating grin off your face, you jerk, but like, it helped me stop second-guessing myself. Sitting on the bus with you, I’ve never felt more calm going into a season. And so I just thought. It’s dumb but I hoped coming here would help.” She shrugged.

“It’s not dumb Sammy. You help me sleep too. Why do you think all the vets insist I sit with you?” You said softly, leaning down to kiss her forehead.

“Because you used to fall asleep literally everywhere and they hoped I could get across the aisle and catch you before you hit your head?” She giggled and you snapped her shoulder lightly.

“Wow. Thanks.” You said in a monotone, “Or maybe it’s ‘cause you’re my favorite teddy bear.”

“If anyone is the teddy it’s you. You’re like half my size,” She giggled.

“Yeah, yeah, whatever,” you muttered, playfully pushing her head off your lap. “Come on you giant.”

“Where are you going?” She asked, allowing you to pull her to her feet.

“To go grab you a toothbrush and a fresh pillowcase for the bed.” You said, your tugging getting a little more insistent. You really wanted to get to sleep tonight. You had been so good lately (ignoring the random omelet you cooked tonight).

“Oh, um. I was hoping we could just watch television on your couch and I would fall asleep,” Sam rambled, eyes wide. “I mean, not that I mind, but I didn’t want to like, invade on your--”

“Just come up to my room. It’s no big deal, it’s large enough for both of us, and I honestly don’t think that couch is even big enough to fit you. Besides, maybe it will help you sleep to be on a mattress actually purchased in this century.”

“Hey, I like my mattress!” She grumbled indignantly, crossing her arms.

“You flip it twice a month because it keeps forming an indention where you’ve slept!” You said exasperated. That sleepover had been a terrible idea and you stood by that. At least your bed didn’t spit out feathers when you turned over too fast.

“Well, I. um. No comment.” you hear her say as you go to take your turn in the bathroom.

When Sam gets back from brushing her teeth you’ve done everything except turn out the lights. You look up from your side of the bed as she pauses in the doorway.

“Is this… Welcome to Night Vale?”

“It helps me ignore my thoughts. Can you get the lights please?”

You had to replay the podcast the next day after Sam left. You couldn’t remember anything after “Wednesday has been canceled due to a scheduling error” because within moments you were asleep.

*****

You thought that sleeping with Sam was only supposed to be a one-night thing, but it wasn’t. One night turned into two, which turned into the two of you usually crashing at each other's places.

If you were being honest, it was the best sleep you had ever gotten. It was nice to have someone there to hold onto, to protect you from the bad dreams. The problem was that your feelings were edging past the line of friendship, and you had no idea what to do about it.

It started with a team party you both went to, where Sam offered to be the designated driver. After she dropped everyone else off, you told her she might as well stay the night at your place since it was already so late and she did. And you both slept great. And then you had your usual Saturday spa night the next night, and you were several shots in and it wouldn’t have been responsible to drive home. And you both slept a solid seven hours.

Not that Sam was a magical cure to your insomnia. You still had nights where your brain was like a train running off the rails, unstoppable no matter how hard you tried. Yet, having her there helped. She made sure blue lights went off when they were supposed to, and your late-night breakfast-making was kept to a minimum. AND after the first few nights, you realized that she was amusingly clingy in her sleep. Which meant that occasionally if you woke up and tried to get out of bed, she would sleepily grab you and hold you in place murmuring about whatever was happening in her dream. Since you couldn’t get up you had to just lay there, which normally might have been boring, but with her was amusing as you listened to her rambling state of consciousness.

You sighed, staring up at the ceiling. You really needed to get your shit together and just ask her out. But what if she said no, and you lost your cuddle buddy? That would suck royally, and if you lost your bus seat it might completely curse the USWNT.

“Alright, I can practically feel the steam coming out of your ears, spill,” Sam groaned, rolling over and throwing an arm around your waist.

“Isn’t it weird?”

“What?”

“Time. Like someone decided that seconds were a thing and a certain number of seconds equaled a minute and there were a certain number of minutes in a day. Like someone just decided it was a thing, and everyone went along with it and now we all have to plan our lives around this arbitrary system. I wonder if that asshole realized that people would use it to put kids in detention and force them to cram so they could regurgitate facts in a specified amount of his made-up system. And like the Romans made a Calendar and the Mayans did one too…” Your rambling was cut off by Sams’s soft lips touching your own in a quick peck before she collapsed back into the pillow. “Just blame capitalism babe.”

You stared at her for a minute, shocked, before she bolted upright. “SHIT. Sorry, I just. I forgot to ask for consent. I just forgot--”

“I consent, yes, more of this please,” you said, leaning over to kiss her again. Your hands cupped her cheeks and her fingers tangled into the baby hairs at the back of your neck.

After a few minutes, Sam broke off the kiss, both of you breathing heavily. “Um, wow. You know, I’m not sure this is helping you get to sleep, love.”

You smirk, biting your lip and straddling her hips before you lean in to kiss her again, slowly. “You’re the one who said you needed to sleep with me more often.”

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #sam mewis imagine #sam mewis x reader #literalhedgehog

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beelsnack · 4 years

Note

XBSBSBSJDJX hewwo can I uhh request the brothers reactions/them dealing w an MC who's just. Vv affectionate? They just like to shower all of the brothers in praise nd compliments nd physical affection. They're just like. A classic deredere.

I’ll be honest with you friend, I had no idea what a deredere was, I had to look it up. I feel like I have to turn in my weeb card now.

-----

Lucifer: "You're so beautiful."

For a moment, the compliment stunned him. Sure, people had been entranced by his appearance since before the Celestial War. But to hear it said so randomly, so sincerely...

"What do you want?" They were probably digging for brownie points, his brothers did it all the time. He regarded them coolly out of the corner of his eye as he continued scribbling away at the report he was working on.

They pushed themselves off of the door frame where they had been leaning and made their way over to his desk. "Nothing. I just wanted to tell you."

Then, the brazen little imp that they were, they approached from behind his chair and draped their arms around his shoulder in a hug.

The sudden warmth and weight of them caused his brain to go offline. Most people, demons, witches or otherwise, were terrified to be in his presence, and here was this fragile little human embracing him like he was a stuffed toy.

He...didn’t hate it.

Mammon: “Why do you look so excited?”

They hadn’t even left the grounds of the House of Lamentation yet and already the human was practically skipping down the street. Satan had asked Mammon to go pick up some ingredients for dinner, and then had asked the human to go with him to “keep him in line.” Cheeky little brats, both of them.

“Because,” the human grinned up at him, the picture of pure joy as they latched on to both of his hands. “I don’t get to spend much time with you one-on-one. So any time spent with my First Demon makes me happy.”

Somewhere in the back of his brain there was the sound of glass shattering. Mammon felt heat creep up his neck and ears as his heartbeat kicked into high gear as he tried to process just how damn cute that was.

“You - I - what - g’ah, cut the sappy shit and let’s just go already!”

He started walking again, still holding on to one of their hands.

Leviathan: “Come on, come on, come on ,come on...yes!!”

With an unearthly shriek, the final boss fell to the ground in a mass of oily black smoke and writhing tentacles.After hours of grinding, Levi and the human watching their score tally up on the results screen.

“Whoa!! New world record!” Levi cried out as the graphic flashed on the screen. “We just destroyed the top score by a good ten thousand points!”

“We did it, Levi!”

They apparently had gotten caught up in the moment and forgot about Levi’s aversion to physical contact. In their excitement, they flung their arms around his neck and gave him a victory hug.

Levi’s arms and lap were suddenly full of very warm and very 3D human, and he could practically feel the sparks shooting out of his ears as Levi.exe tried to process the sensory imput.

“Oh, sorry!” just as quickly as they had tackled him, they drew back, and, surprisingly, Levi found himself missing the warmth. “I forgot about the no touchy rule!”

The heat from his face was probably enough to boil the water in Henry’s tank. “I-I...um...s-since this is a special occasion, I suppose I c-can forgive you...”

Satan: “...and make sure to step out of the circle before finishing it, or else you could get caught in the middle of an inferno.”

The human stared at the notebook in front of them intently. Magical circles were complex, and after a while all of them started to look the same, so of course they went to Satan when they needed help studying.

With an elegant flick of his wrist, Satan finished his example drawing. “And there you go. Does that help at all?”

“Yes, absolutely!” they smiled gratefully, leaning their head against his shoulder. “You’re so smart, Satan, I knew you were the one to go to.”

The compliment made him blush slightly, but he liked to think that he had good control of his facial expressions. “You flatter me.”

“Is it flattery if it’s true?”

“Accurate flattery is still flattery.” he laughed. wrapping an arm around their shoulder and pulling them closer against him. “But you’re welcome. Anytime you need help, come to me.”

Asmodeus: “See, I told you that color would look great on you!”

The human studied themself in the mirror, turning this way and that to get all of the angles. “Wow, I definitely never would have picked this for myself. You really are a fashion genius, Asmo!”

“Aw, thank you, darling!” he hopped up from his seat on his bed. “Not that I don’t get that a lot, but it means more coming from you.”

“You just have to get that brag in there, don’t you?” they teased, latching onto his arm.

“I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t,” Asmo let them hang on his arm like he was their escort. “It’s part of my charm!”

Beelzebub: “Do you like it?”

The human gulped down the mouthful of soup and grinned up at him. “Beel, this is amazing! You’re the best cook ever, I swear.”

Beel smiled back. “I’m glad, I tried really hard not to eat it all before you got to have some.”

“Mm,” they took another bite. “Who needs Hell’s Kitchen, you’re cooking is way better!”

“Well,” Beel blushed. That was a pretty big compliment. “The chef’s there do share a lot of their recipes with me, so...”

“Yeah, but it’s better when you make it!”

“I don’t really do much different though.”

“Food always tastes better when it’s made by someone you love.”

...Well then. Now Beel was definitely blushing.

Belphegor: He’d fallen asleep.

Not that this was a rare occurrence, but he hadn’t planned on passing out in the human’s bed while they were studying. Something about their voice, their scent, their warmth was just really soothing, he couldn’t help it.

Speaking of warmth...

“Are you awake now, Belphie?”

Slowly but surely, he became aware of his surroundings. While he was asleep, the human had placed his head in their lap, continuing to read over the study guide while they played with his hair.

“Nope.” he snuggled closer to them. “Not for long, anyway. Feels too nice...”

“Sorry,” they laughed sheepishly. “I couldn’t help it, you looked too cute.”

“Only you would call a demon cute.”

#this was really sweet to write #i'm in fluff mode #obey me #shall we date obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me mammon #obey me leviathan #obey me levi #obey me satan #obey me asmodeus #obey me asmo #obey me beelzebub #obey me beel #obey me belphegor #obey me belphie

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that-damn-girl · 4 years

Text

(9) Bucky and The Bed

Completed

Chapter 8

Bucky and The Bed Masterlist

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x (cis)fem!reader

Words: 4200+

Summary: You and Bucky are stranded in the middle of a snowy nowhere when there is an ‘electronic blackout’ during your mission. With no back ups or any way to contact your team, you take refuge from the worsening weather in the only cabin you find ��in miles. Not to mention, with no power, Bucky has become your personal heater and there’s only one bed.

Chapter type: Fluff.

Chapter/Trigger warning: Language? Slow build.

A/N: This chapter has been divided into two parts, because I couldn’t control myself and it turned out to be longer than I expected. I’m trying to update it as often as I can. I want to enjoy as I write, not turn updating into a chore. Hope you understand. Thank you so damn much for bearing with me still. Hope you like this part!

It felt different, very much so. He looked different as much as he felt different. Bucky had never thought he'd ever see the man he had only seen in old history books and documentaries and much older family albums. But Bucky looked at him as he stood in front of the mirror. Dirt lined the edges and corners of the mirror. The reflection wasn't as sharp as it could have been, but his attention was solely concentrated at the centre.

The face Bucky saw, he knew and he recognised it, and it felt familiar in a way he supposed. Yet he felt like he had met the man he saw, for the first time, or rather after a very, very long time.

Bucky raised his hand and so did the man in front of him. The man Bucky staring at Bucky glided his fingers over his ever-growing scruff and Bucky felt the short hair scratch his calloused skin. The man in the reflection was familiar and yet not so much. The man staring back at him had Bucky's face with his sharp features, his ocean grey eyes, his nose, his plump lips, and just about everything else which made Bucky look like Bucky.

The hair though…

It felt different, very much so, but it was a good kind of different, one he was very much in need of. Yes he'd mourn the length of his hair lost, and him taking care of his hair like he had since he'd been free, and yes he'd miss your fingers running through his locks, turning and twisting them into pretty braids or updos because Wanda never let you play with hers. He would miss the pads of your fingers tugging at his locks, sometimes just for the fun of it, or when he'd take you apart on his mouth and his fingers.

He knew he would miss it. He would miss a multitude of things about his hair being cut short. He'd miss their weight resting against his shoulders and weight of his man-bun at the back of his head -hell, he was already missing it-, the feel of them covering his ears and the curtain of security he hid himself behind. He knew he wouldn't miss the plethora of lost hair ties which even the Winter Soldier couldn't keep a track of, but he would miss the familiarity of wearing a spare on his wrist.

But Bucky couldn't deny it felt weird too. Had...had his ears always looked so large? No, they hadn't seemed so whenever he had his hair tied or in a bun. If he looked closely, his jawline didn't seem the same either. It was sharp and curved at all the angles it had been the previous day, but there was something that just felt different that he couldn't pin-point.

Maybe it was the spiky, cropped hair just above his ear, or how fluffy his crown seemed now that it wasn't weighted down by his longer locks, or the feel of nothing shrouding the back of his neck, or the lack of a dark backdrop of his hair behind his neck when he didn't have it tied, or the feel of his hair not tucked behind his ears, or the knowledge that he won't ever feel it again, not for a long time at least.

Yet he didn't regret it. At all. It was something he had decided to do himself, completely on his own, without any input - be it passive or aggressive - from any other living being. It was his choice, his decision and his own. It was his time to...not start over per say, but to do what he wanted, what he thought was right. He had spent so long at the whim of others, made to slave away for their sole advantage. He didn't want to spend the rest of his life slaving to unsurety, cowering behind the fear of what might happen.

It was also refreshing, looking at a new himself. He never thought scissoring off his locks would change his looks so much. He had known it at the back of his head perhaps, but he never expected it to be so true.

He couldn't help but stare at himself, his head turning this way and that, slowly, carefully taking in all his new angles he now saw in a new light. His hand raised to glide through his hair. Such short strands would feel weird for some time he mused, but he'd make it through the first few days without any complaints.

His lips parted in a fake smile, just to test how different expressions would look on his face with his hair cropped and fluffy. The fake smile soon turned into a bashful grin. He didn't know what he expected; his hair length had changed, not really the planes of his face.

His eyes caught you in the mirror, your form tangled in the sheets he had left warm, asleep blissfully, hugging the pillow he had been using close to your body. What would you think of his decision? What if you didn't like it? What if you preferred his long locks only? Would you be...angry with him?

No, his heart corrected him in that instant. No, you would not. You'd never be angry with him for taking care of or making decisions for his own self. You'd in fact berate him for even letting such self depriving thoughts enter his mind. He chuckled. You really were an angel to him.

His legs carried him to the bed, to you. He laid down on his side very gently so as to not disturb you as you slept on your side. Drawing the covers over himself, his hands curled around your middle as he pulled himself closer to you, his front flush against your back. Dainty lips deftly kissed your clothed shoulder, slowly making their way to the hollow of your neck and above. His lips brushed every curve of your skin along the way.

You were woken up by soft warm kisses being peppered on your cheek. Bucky's scruff grazed your neck, making the sensitive skin there tingle. You giggled at the stimulation, your body sinking into the heat of his embrace. Sensing you wake up, he doubled his efforts to shower you with affection. Had you been awake, you would have wondered why the ends of his locks were not brushing your skin, but that was too much thinking for your sleep dazed mind as your eyes remained closed. You only focused on his lips smiling against your skin.

"Morning, baby doll." Bucky said, landing another kiss behind your ear, successfully making you purr.

"Morning, Bucky," You cuddled closer into him. "Isn't someone really happy this morning?"

"Every moment with you is a happy moment, Y/N."

You smiled bright and wide, "Oh, aren't you such a romantic?" Opening your eyes, you turned on your back to look at Bucky.

Your body stiffened and a loud gasp left your lips at the sight. It made you pull back instantly. You almost didn't recognise him for a second, your body already ready to fight the supposedly unknown man in your bed; in Bucky's place. Upon closer inspection though, your panic stricken, overworking mind realised that it was none other than Bucky, just as he had always been. Except for the hair.

It had only taken a handful of seconds, but they were enough to send Bucky into a panic blackhole of his own. That was it. That was exactly the reaction he had been fearing. You didn't like his cut short. You wouldn't want him now. How was he even going to progress with his plan if that was the case? Would you-

Fingers raked through the side of his head, slow and hesitant, exploring the cropped hair. He looked at your eyes, that were wide not with anger as he thought but with disbelief.

Your fingers reached the back of his head to find the hair there just as short. You couldn't believe it, truly. It felt weird in a way...new if you had to use another for it, how you didn't feel the slight weight of his locks as you combed through it. It felt even more... different to look at the man, the legend you had read about in school alongside the first Captain America in front of you.

A soft "Bucky…" left your lips, your gaze bouncing around his face. You had known it was the same man all along, but now with his hair style nearly the same as he had back in the day, the similarities were even more emphasised. He looked every bit Sergeant Bucky Barnes of the Howling Commandos. The only difference were the hard planes of his that made him look much older, not because he was over a hundred years old, - ok, probably that too - but because of all the things he had seen, suffered through, survived and overcome in his unbelievably long life. "...wow!"

"You like it?" Bucky asked shyly, biting his lips nervously. His eyes squinted slightly as he awaited your reply.

"Like it?" You scoffed, your hand cupping his handsome face, "I love it, Bucky!" You pulled his down for a quick peck to his lips. "You look so good. Not that you didn't before. I mean, you still do look so breathtaking. It's just a new look that I never thought I'd see on you and I was surprised for a second, that's it. But I love this look just as much, really-"

"Y/N," Bucky called your name, chuckling. When you realised you were rambling, it was your turn to be bashful.

"It's just...I don't know what prompted it, but... it's a good change. And I'm happy you decided to do it, whatever your reason is." Bucky grinned, knowing he had predicted right. You really were an angel to him, supportive as always.

His hand cupped the back of your hand which cradled his face. "There's something else I gotta tell you." He said, his face morphing into one full of seriousness.

You sat up, your back resting against the headboard, giving him your full attention. Your hand fell down from his face, atop the bunched covers on your lap. Bucky sat up straight too, criss crossing his legs on your side. "I'm listening."

It was a thing you did ever since you had started being friends, during late night conversations - or any time of the day when you two were alone. It had been a way of bringing Bucky out of his shell, especially when he didn't know, or rather had forgotten how to truly express what he felt. You started it on Sam's suggestion. You'd ask Bucky about his day, what made him feel sad or happy or any other emotions. If he wouldn't speak, you'd start talking about your day. He'd talk to you about other things, but he never did say how he felt.

You thought part of the reason was his upbringing in the early twentieth century, when boys were taught not to express much except bravado and anger. Part of it might have been because none had asked him that, or let him be himself for seventy fucking years. He did have a therapist to talk to, sure, but he needed a friend as well. You and Sam were there for him then.

He hadn't talked about his feelings in the first few weeks. You'd ask him to share and if he wouldn't, you'd share yours. Although he wouldn't talk, he was a great listener. He'd laugh along with you at your funny incidences and give you a shoulder to rely on after a rough day. He'd be angry along with you at the writers for being unjust to your favourite character and celebrate with you because the sweet intern in the PR team finally got herself a chance with the girl she had been dreaming about day and night. He'd do much more but it had taken sometime for him to openly talk about his feelings.

The first time that he did, he had quietly mentioned how his heart had been heavy after watching the Toy Story saga, and yet he couldn't stop himself from binging it again and again. He told you how bad he wished his sisters could have seen those movies with him.

"There's something else I gotta tell you."

The next day he told you he liked watching cat videos after Peter the spiderling had taught him the various features of instagram.

"There's something else I gotta tell you."

Another day he told you how he absolutely loved messing with Sam, because he somewhat reminded him of Steve.

Days on which he'd tell you about how he felt regarding one thing or the other kept piling up, upto the point where you didn't have to coax it out of him. He'd either tell you himself, or would place it in normal day to day conversations. It wasn't always easy, but he had always tried.

Deducing from his face, you concluded he had to talk about something similar right then. It had to be something important if he was saying the same line in the same tone again. You were all ears for him, for whatever he had to say.

His hands took both of your palms in his warm hold, his eyes set onto them. He meant to say the words, but nothing came out of his mouth. He had been so sure of himself, of what he wanted to do a few moments earlier but ironically, he was a mess of nerves now that the time had come.

A hundred different ways to start developed in his brain, but he couldn't choose anyone. More like he didn't know how to. Not like he had done this before.

Sensing his hesitation, you cradled his cheek once again, lifting his head to meet your eyes. "You know you can tell me anything, right?"

Bucky couldn't move his head or nod, for he was solely on your eyes, full of adoration and patience. He did hear you and wanted to nod, but only thoughts about how much he cared for you overtook his brain. He may have moved his head in the slightest, which wasn't even enough of a nod to be noticed by you.

"You don't have to tell me right now if you're uncomfortable." You continued, "It's okay. You can tell me whenever you want to. We have all the time in the world. I'll always be there for you."

How could he not love you?

Bucky smiled, though it still betrayed how nervous he was. He took your hands back in his and brought them to his lips, kissing your knuckles soft and long. If he had to do it, if he had to say it, he needed to do it right then, he decided. There was no backing out. He would not let himself cower this time.

He didn't want to hide his feelings from you or anyone else any longer. He wanted you to know how deeply he felt for you. If you did love him as he did you, that'd be the best thing to happen to him. But if you didn't, he'd accept it and respect your wishes, and comply on however you'd want to proceed. But he couldn't not let you know how loved you were, how deserving you were of everything at its best. He couldn't delay the chance to truly love and cherish you. And so he did.

"I love you."

A moment or two passed. Perhaps more, but you didn't know. How could you, when you were sure your brain had finally bowed down in front of your daylight fantasies and short circuited? For how else could you have heard the man you loved say that he loved you too? Impossible. You were sure your mind was playing tricks on you. That or you were dreaming, again. But it felt so real, too real. In your confused, utterly dumbfounded state, you said the only thing you were capable of.

"What?"

Again, Bucky wasn't sure what he was expecting, but it sure wasn't that. He realised that he did catch you off guard. Had he been in your place, perhaps he may have reacted that way too. He simply repeated himself.

"I love you, Y/N."

Bucky took a deep breath, his chest shuddering from how nervous he still felt. "It's not a spur of the moment realisation, I swear. It's been that way for a while now. I've…" He smiled, "I've loved you since a long time, doll. I only realised it a few days ago. You might think it's because it's been only for nearly a week now, so that's the reason how I feel what I feel for you. But I assure you, that's not the case. You were my friend first and foremost, and I am glad I had someone like you at the lowest of my points to pull me up and help me come out of those dark days. And you still do, Y/N. Baby, I love you so fucking much, I…"

Bucky kept rambling, and you would have honestly chuckled if you hadn't been staring at him open mouthed. So it wasn't a dream. You had heard him the first time perfectly. So he did return your affections. So he did love you, as you did love him. He had repeated himself and you had heard him the second time too, but it still felt unreal, unbelievable. Your heart was pounding hard in the captivity of your ribcage, begging your mind to act on the joy the news brought to you. But you sat there, unable to move, replaying those words over and over again to let your mind register it, while Bucky kept on rambling in a nervous streak.

He was silenced by your lips crashing on his in an instant. It wasn't soft like your usual morning kisses. It had sort of an urgency to it. Your lips moved slow but hard against his, punctuating each fleeting second by the loud smacks of your lips and the low hum generating in your throat. Your palms traversed to his face, cradling his face quite firmly, as if afraid he'd disappear if you wouldn't. Your heart took control of all your actions as your brain shut down, too busy in Bucky's lips dancing with yours to care about anything else.

You raised on your knees, leaning into him. Bucky grasped your middle in his large hands, roughly pulling down your body into his lap. One hand moved to support your back while the other remained at your waist.

It was you who had initiated the kiss, but Bucky was the one controlling it now. You happily gave into his demands, your arms curling around his neck. You kissed him with a fervor that shouldn't have been possible for a person who had just woken up, but Bucky received them eagerly and reciprocated your kisses just as enthusiastically. After what felt like an eternity had passed, Bucky softly pulled back.

Your eyes which had closed if their own accord opened slowly, only to find Bucky gazing at you. Perhaps he might have understood what the kiss meant, but he needed a verbal confirmation, one which you were happy to provide.

"I love you."

Your hoarse voice whispered. Just like you thought, Bucky had the same reaction as you. He heard what you said, understood it too, but his mind needed a moment to register it too. You, on the other hand, were over the momentary shock. Bubbles of happiness burst inside you and you couldn't control yourself from pulling down Bucky, connecting his lips to yours again.

Bucky responded in kind, unable to to resist you. The kiss was a weird mix of soft and hard at times, something just like you and Bucky. You couldn't usually get enough of this man, but something about the confession, about knowing that he loved you just as hard too, it somehow made you want him more.

Bucky loved kissing you and doing all sorts of other things to you which was severely inappropriate for certain age groups. Hell, he loved everything about you - he loved you! He'd never not kiss you when he had the chance, but the man had to reluctantly pull back and ask, "You do?"

Big ocean grey eyes stared into yours, looking for the slightest bit of confirmation. Bucky Barnes put his vulnerability in your hands, empowering you to either preserve it or crush it. The decision laid in your hands.

But you didn't need to decide something which was already pre-decided. Ever since he'd been your friend, ever since you'd decided you'd loved him, ever since he'd decided to trust you, to show you his vulnerable parts and his hardships, you'd sworn time and again to preserve any and all parts of himself that he gave or showed you, and keep them safe from the evils of the world or die doing so.

Now that he was giving you a part of his heart, a part that belonged solely and completely to you, you'd gently hold it with love and care, protect it and treasure it, keeping it close to you. You'd do his decision justice of trusting you with such a crucial part of himself. It'll be a bigger responsibility, one one that you'd accept with wipe open arms and embrace it lovingly.

You'd give a part of your heart solely and completely to him too, a part that only he was deserving of. For you somehow knew there would be no other man who would love you as he would, who would trust you and trust in you like he would. Bucky Barnes was the only man for you, and will forever be the only man for you.

"You don't have to say anything just because I did." Bucky mistook the lack of conversation for something else and continued talking. "Or not right away, if you don't want to. I'd accept whatever your reply would be, really. I'd respect your wishes, no matter what you say."

Bucky's eyes still bore into yours, patiently awaiting your answer. You smiled, your fingers brushing the short hair on the side of his head.

"Then accept this. I love you so much, Bucky Barnes. So fucking much."

You pulled him down to softly peck his lips. Bucky didn't move his forehead away from yours, his hand gently stroking the back of your neck. His eyes were shut, soaking every word you said in his bones.

"I've loved for so long too, Bucky. But I couldn't tell you, I didn't know hot to. I didn't want to scare you off by moving things too fast. I didn't want to lose you. But it was getting harder and harder each day; being with you but not being able to love you the way you should be loved."

His nervous face gradually broke into a grin. Bucky chuckled softly, "Doll, there's nothing you could do that would be enough to scare me away. You're stuck with me."

"Am I now?" You inquired in a tone just as playful. "Well, I'd rather be stuck with you than be away with you any longer."

"Who's the charmer now?" Bucky said, pulling back his amused face to look at you properly.

"Learnt from the best." You said with a grin.

Bucky leaned down to kiss you again, because why not? His heart was brimming with joy as his nerves sang loudly. He kissed you lovingly and passionately, happy to call you his lover. He had been such a lucky bastard, Bucky realised, to not only have you process his feelings so well but reciprocate them too. Could anyone have been more luckier than him?

His lips moved expertly against yours, his tongue sweeping over your lower lip. Not wasting any time, his tongue clashed with yours as soon as you gave him permission. The kiss grew hot and heated gradually. His hands moved up and down your sides, warming up your body with just his touch. Need and want for something more slowly made its way to you, entrapping the pair of you in its hold. A heavy dose of lust mixed with your abundance of love.

You could feel his member growing half hard beneath you. You shifted yourself to spread your legs around his torso, straddling him. Bucky's metal arm automatically dropped down to your butt, encouraging the slow grinds you had begun. Nothing about the way you kissed seemed innocent now.

Bucky knew what would entail next, as the same had been happening for a few days. But this time, he wanted something more if you agreed to it. He trusted you, no doubt, but now he was ready. He was ready to give himself to you completely, without any restraints or reservations. He wanted you to have him as much as he wanted to have you. He didn't only want to love you, he wanted to make love to you too. So fucking much.

He never thought he'd open that part of him to anyone, but you weren't just anyone. You were his Y/N, his doll, his friend, his lover. He'd trust you with everything and beyond.

He gently pulled back only enough to speak properly, his forehead touching yours. Inhaling deeply, he said, "I'm ready to go all the way with you."

The divider is made by @writeyourmindaway

Chapter 10

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goldentournesol · 4 years

Text

Proper Date

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

The one where Spencer and Y/N go on a proper date after being kidnapped together.

Part 2 of Unwanted Matchmaker: Read Part 1 here :)

A/N: makes minor references to Part 1, but can be read without reading it. ENJOY SOME SPENCER FLUFF! i got a little carried away...but it’s worth it! thank you to @theamuz , @andiebeaword , @yourwonderbelle for requesting a part 2!

Length: 2.5k

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Luckily enough, Friday came sooner than Spencer had thought it would. He was finally able to take a break from the team. Y/N had texted him Friday morning to confirm the date. She hadn’t stopped thinking about him for a single moment ever since they went their separate ways the day of the fateful kidnapping. She never thought she’d ever be thankful for such a situation.

She was nervous, she knew very little about the Dr., but had gathered bits and pieces of him on the days she saw him at that coffee shop. She thought he was gorgeous. She also thought she may have imagined it when she caught his eyes lingering on her once or twice, but the imagination became set in stone when his face broke into what seemed like the most adorable shy smile that could possibly appear on someone’s face. She should have talked to him then, but she would have been late to her class. She couldn’t have been more glad to go on a date with him.

Spencer had gotten off work two hours early to ensure he had enough time to be nervous while getting ready.

“Woah, where you goin’, pretty boy?” Morgan asked as he watched Spencer begin to pack his things.

Spencer rolled his eyes, he should have timed his exit better, “Uh...I have an appointment?” He made an attempt to lie.

“You always this nervous going to appointments?” Emily chimed in.

“Wait, wait, what day is it?” Morgan asked.

“Friday.” Emily replied.

A knowing smile made a home on Morgan’s face, “Aha! Pretty boy’s got a date!” Spencer quickly shot him a look that screamed, ‘how did you know?!’, “I may have overheard you talking to the girl the day the unsub took you.”

Once again, Spencer rolled his eyes, “My God, can’t I have just one thing to myself? Just once?” He tried to hide his smile though.

“Nu-uh, not when it’s making you this nervous!” Emily pointed out, noticing how Spencer’s hand was turning white at the intensity it held onto his bag.

“Well, Emily, it’s not every day that I have a date with someone who is practically the embodiment of beauty.” Spencer uttered with a slew of exasperated hand motions.

Morgan let out a chuckle, “Calm down, kid. She seemed really into you. I’m sure she’s just as dorky as you are.” Emily smiled endearingly at the youngest member of their team and nodded.

“Yeah, haven’t you guys been in contact like..all week? She wouldn’t have done that if she wasn’t interested.” She added and noticed the slight drop of Spencer’s shoulders. Maybe they were right, he probably had nothing to worry about. He nodded and began to smile.

“Go get her, kid. Just try to keep the statistics at a minimum.” He joked around before Emily interjected quickly, “No! Be yourself!” Spencer laughed and gave them a double thumbs up before quickly saying goodbye and heading home.

He called the restaurant to double check his reservation and tried to pick out an outfit that wouldn’t scream, ‘I got off work two hours early’. He showered, shaved, and attempted to style his hair, but it was too much of a task to tackle, so he left it to do whatever it pleased. He decided he’d stick to his normal attire with a white and blue checkered button down, a navy v-neck sweater and a matching blazer to elevate the look. He contemplated whether or not a tie would make the outfit over the top, but then remembered that the restaurant would be quite fancy and added it anyway. He left his house a half hour early to make sure he had enough time to pick up a bouquet. That was romantic, right? People do this all the time, right? He took a deep breath and reminded himself to stop stressing. He decided to get her red flowers to match the dress she wore when he first saw her. She was wearing a white dress with a motif of small red flowers with black centers, it was safe to say she blew him away that day.

He checked the time and saw that it was still early, so he texted her. They had agreed on meeting at the restaurant, but he just couldn’t wait to see her.

“Hey, would it be okay if I picked you up instead of meeting there?” She lived closer to the restaurant anyway and he wanted to ensure her safety any time he possibly could.

“Yeah, sure! I’ll send you the location.” She did just that and Spencer made it there on time, of course.

He took a deep breath as he stood at her doorstep with the bouquet of flowers. He gave himself a miniature pep talk and knocked on the door three times. Spencer hoped the knocks were louder than his heartbeats beating relentlessly in his ears.

Y/N’s heart leapt as she heard the knocks, “Coming! Just one second!” She made her way over to the door, struggling to put in one of her earrings.

She opened the door for him, “I’m sorry, I’m almost rea-” She breath caught in her throat as she took in the sight of him. She admired his every angle, he looked immaculate to say the least. She’d only noticed that she dropped her earring on the floor because she followed his eyes to where it lay.

“You..um, dropped your..” He stuttered, turning red. Was it him who made her nervous? She laughed nervously and retrieved it quickly, putting it on. He cleared his throat to try to regain his composure from seeing her, “You look...stunning.” He let out a breath and shook his head as if to clear the fog in his brain that she unintentionally created, “Oh! Um, and these are for you!” He extended the arm holding the bouquet.

She smiled and accepted them graciously, “Oh, these are beautiful, you didn’t have to trouble yourself, Dr. Reid.” He loved the way his name sounded coming from her.

“It was nothing, really, it’s the least I could do, and please, call me Spencer.” He smiled and she mirrored it instantly.

“Come in, Spencer. I’ll put these in a vase, put on my shoes, and we’ll head right out!” He watched her as she disappeared into her apartment.

A sparkly, form-fitting black dress adorned her figure contrasting to the flowy nature of the dresses Spencer had usually seen her in. He tried not to profile her apartment as much as he could, but he was too curious not to. He saw unfinished canvases and the apartment smelled vaguely of paint thinner. He admired her paintings but also tried not to snoop. She came out of her room, completely ready, and saw him staring at her paintings.

“Uhm, those aren’t quite done yet.” She stated shyly, “I have a habit of getting sidetracked.” She giggled and gestured to her unfinished paintings.

He smiled as he turned to her, “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to poke around.” He stated quickly but she just smiled at him, “These are incredible, I don’t believe I have a single artistic bone in my body.” He laughed.

“Yeah, right! That can’t be true.” She teased.

Spencer grinned and checked the time, “Are you all done? We should get going. I hope you don’t mind walking there.” She nodded and they made their way out. The restaurant was a short walk away and the whole time Spencer fiddled with his hands in his pockets nervously except for when he was describing something, a habit he had. They arrived at the restaurant.

“Good evening, reservation for Dr. Reid.” Spencer said and Y/N hated the way her stomach went into a fit of somersaults at that. That was a lie, she kind of loved it.

They were seated and they could finally make uninterrupted eye-contact. She smiled at him and Spencer hoped his swooning wasn’t too obvious. They ordered their food and made conversation as they waited.

“So, Spencer, how did you get into the FBI?” She asked as she propped her chin on her hand. Her gaze was enough to send Spencer into the next dimension.

“Believe it or not, I’m unbelievably athletic.” He joked and she bubbled with laughter. Spencer couldn’t take his eyes off her as she laughed, determined to never stop her from doing it, “seriously,” he continued, “they took one look at me at the academy and were like, yeah we need this dude chasing down bad guys immediately!” She laughed again and shook her head.

“Aw, come on, don’t bring yourself down!” She smiled wide and took one of his hands that were resting on the table. Spencer’s heart soared at the action and was glad it was different from the way it felt as she clutched his hand when they were kidnapped together.

“I guess the FBI needed me because well...serial killers and criminals often have a tendency to create puzzles that are seemingly impossible to crack, and I just so happen to be very good at cracking those puzzles. I usually do that by analyzing their behavior. I work for the Behavioral Analysis Unit.” She could tell he was being humble, but she couldn’t help but be impressed.

“Aren’t you a Doctor? I’m assuming PhD?” She saw him blush.

“Uh, three actually.” He looked off to the side bashfully. Her jaw dropped at his humility, but he just smiled, “In Mathematics, Chemistry, and Engineering…” he paused, “as well as degrees in Psychology and Sociology.” She laughed in somewhat of a shock. Spencer knew his credentials were impressive but for some reason her validation seemed so important to him.

“What….how? How old are you?” She gawked.

He laughed, “I’m 30. I graduated high school at the age of 12. I have an IQ of 187 and can read 20,000 words per minute. I have an eidetic memory which basically means I can remember lots of information accompanied by the ability to recall things with accuracy which of course came in handy while I was getting those PhD’s…”

“Wow...” was all she could say, she suddenly felt insignificant, but her smile never faltered. He had no intention of making her feel that way and she knew that, but she had no idea how she possibly landed a date with a...genius.

“Yeah...it kind of overwhelms people, I hope you’re not too intimidated.” He laughed shyly. She giggled, how could she be when his awkwardness made him oh so endearing.

“I’m not gonna lie, it’s a little intimidating, but they are amazing accomplishments and you have every right to be proud of them.” She assured him by squeezing his hand, just like he did hers when she was nervous. He appreciated the gesture and they grinned at each other.

“So when did you start painting?” He asked her as he took a sip of wine.

“All my life, it seems. I couldn’t think of anything else that I wanted to do. There’s something about the way the paintbrush feels in my hand. I don’t know, I guess I wanted to add more color into people’s worlds…and I love kids! I just knew I had to teach them.” She gushed and he admired the way her eyes sparkled.

“You know there are countless studies that support the idea of painting as a stress reliever. Actually, there was this one study where…” he continued to ramble and Y/N seemed to hang onto every word. He was so adorable in the way that he described things and bounced from one topic to another. She didn’t interrupt him once, not even when the food was set down on their table. He only stopped when he felt the warmth of her hand disappear from his so she could start eating. She peered at him curiously, wondering why he stopped.

“Sorry,” he grinned, “didn’t realize I’d been rambling.”

She shook her head, smiling wide, “If I knew half the things you know, I would want to share them with everyone too. I love it.”

He hadn’t expected her response but he was grateful because she hadn’t belittled him like most people do. They ate as they shared stories from their lives. Spencer noticed how the wine added a flush to her cheeks and he wondered how much more beautiful she could possibly get. She insisted on feeding him a piece of her meal but she couldn’t reach that far across the table and Spencer thought that was adorable. He’d had to lean forward just to have some, the interaction made his cheeks ache from smiling. Soon, they finished their food and Spencer took care of the bill, Y/N insisted she’d take care of dessert.

They got up and headed out of the restaurant. They were greeted by the soft chill of the nighttime. Spencer had noticed immediately how Y/N’s arms instinctively shot up to hug herself and shield her body away from the cold. He took his blazer off and placed it on her shoulders. She blushed at the warm gesture and gladly slid her arms through.

She smiled up at him gratefully, “Thanks, Spencer. Are you sure you won’t get cold?” The way she slipped her arm through his and hugged his arm almost made him forget to reply.

“I’m good, this um, sweater vest is warmer than it looks.”

He usually shied away from touch, but if there was one thing Spencer was sure of, it was that he never wanted her to let go of him. They walked in the moonlight. Conversation with her came easily. They found themselves in front of the coffee shop where they first learned of each other. It seemed it only fit to celebrate their first date there. They walked in and the woman behind the counter beamed as she saw the two of them walking in together. It was like she knew. She greeted Y/N and the Dr. gleefully and happily took their order. Spencer physically had to bite his lip to keep from smiling too much. They sat down where Spencer usually sat with his books.

“The first time I saw you sitting here, you were literally zooming through a book. I thought you’d had to have been looking for a specific quote or something, not actually reading it!” She giggled as she took a piece of the carrot cake they’d ordered. She didn’t want to let go of his warmth, so they decided to sit next to each other. Spencer didn’t mind that one bit, he’d taken his hand out of his pocket and laced his fingers through hers, their arms still looped in one another’s.

He nodded at her words, taking another piece, “The first time I saw you, you were just walking in, with your earbuds in. I was quite literally blown away.” He sheepishly admitted. She was taken aback by his sweetness and she shook her head. This man had to be too good to be true. She looked up at him and placed a gentle kiss to his cheek.

“I never thought I’d say this but...I’m so glad I was kidnapped.” She said and that sent the both of them into a roar of laughter that made the entire coffee shop jealous of what they had.

Part 1

#spencer x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fic #cm #mgg #dr spencer reid #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid one shot #emily prentiss #aaron hotchner #derek morgan #bau #matthew gray gubler #spencer reid x reader

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se0kie · 4 years

Text

heat of the moment- knj (m)

pairing: namjoon x reader

genre: pwp, it’s pure smut i’m so sorry

established relationship, werewolf!joon, classic heat trope

warnings: *deep breath* let’s see if i can get it all?? dom!knj, sub!reader, heat sex, possessive sex, marking, biting, nipple play, pussy eating, fingering, squirting, choking, rough handling, dirty talk, degradation, use of bitch/whore/slut, multiple orgasms, impreg kink, breeding kink, creampie, cumplay, mentions of blood, namjoon has a big cock (duh)

tagging @ironicarmy fellow microtip pen enthusiast ^3^

not edited oop so you’re just gonna have to ignore the shitty mistakes

summary: you love your werewolf boyfriend, heightened senses and all. you’ve also begged him to let you help him through his agonising heats that torture him every month but the overprotective man he is, he will absolutely not let you near him when he’s so feral. but now he’s standing outside your door and asking to fuck a baby into you. are you ready for that wild ride?

a/n: i have no explanations for this behaviour. this is like 0 plot and all filth, I am so sorry. Horrific overuse of ellipses and uhhhhh,,,,, yeah it’s a product of my inner whore thirsting for Namjoon that’s about it.

You had been having a quiet evening to yourself, safe in the knowledge that your werewolf boyfriend was out on a hunt with his buds and all your work had been done and dusted. You were free to have a peaceful weekend all to yourself filled with self care and trashy movies.

Your dear boyfriend, Kim Namjoon, you had met him in college when he was a senior and you were just a bubbly new freshman.

You had instantly clicked and went forth to become the closest pair in all of Saint Wilson’s Arts University.

Enamoured by his height and intellect since the very first interaction, you had spent a whole year and a half crushing on him like a fourteen year old schoolgirl.

He had told you about his supernatural genes a week before asking you out on a date. And you had been together since.

Werewolves and vampires weren’t unknown to you, you were aware of their existence, but you had never thought that you would meet one.

You adjusted to Namjoon’s wolf characteristics better than you thought possible.

Sure he was warm like a furnace, and yeah he did have a terrible habit of spending hours scenting you so that anyone within 50 feet of you would know you’re taken.

Despite his somewhat difficult behaviour you loved him with every fibre of your being. He looked at you like you had hung the stars in the sky and he swore he would give you anything your heart desired.

Well... except one thing.

Ever since you had been told about the mating behaviour of werewolves and the monthly period of sexual craze that they were subjected to, you had wanted to help Joon out with his.

You had seen documentaries and read papers on the topic. You had learned everything there was to know about werewolf behaviour yet their strange heats boggled your mind more than anything else.

The sheer amount of pain and need that they felt every single month for a whole week, it saddened you to know that you could be helping your boyfriend out but he wouldn’t let you.

Instead choosing to tie himself up with heavy, blessed chains and have his six best friends keep watch.

You had given up after trying for a year straight, deciding that he would entrust you with helping him with his heats when he was comfortable with the idea.

Namjoon was a big man, standing tall at 6 feet with broad shoulders, heavy biceps and sculpted legs, he was scared of hurting you while giving in to his most primal instincts to claim you.

He had chosen you as his mate, his one love for his one life, and being the alpha’s son it was harder for him to control his needs.

So being near fragile, human you when all he could think of was sinking his fangs into your neck and breeding you was out of the question.

Coming back to your peaceful evening, you had just cuddled up with your fluffy blankets and a mug of hot cocoa when you heard the bell ring, the shrill noise resounding through your home.

You weren’t expecting anyone but knowing how impulsive your friends were you got up to open the door nonetheless.

Imagine your surprise when you see your giant of a boyfriend standing outside the threshold of your home, sweat dripping down his large body as he radiated heat.

Your brows furrowed in confusion, “Joon? What happened? Weren’t you out on a hunt, are you hurt?!”

Concern washed over you as you scanned his frame to look for any possible wounds.

Namjoon shook his head, movements tight and controlled, “No Y/N, I’m fine. I had to leave the hunt halfway.”

“What? Why?” you questioned.

“My heat arrived early.”

Oh.

“Ohhhh...” you thought to yourself as realisation sank into you.

“Joon, sweetie is it okay for you to be here? Did you need something before the isolation?” You couldn’t fathom why he would be here if his heat was upon him.

Unless...

No, he wouldn’t. You shouldn’t get your hopes up.

Suddenly you realised that he was still standing outside your shared apartment like a stranger, you stepped aside gesturing at him to come in.

As he stepped inside you closed the door. You noticed how his movements were stiff and rigid, an aura of tension clouding him.

“Is it alright for you to be back home, Joon?” you said softly, “Y’know, considering your uh... situation?”

You could hear his breathing in the silent room; slow, deep and controlled.

“Y/N, what if I told you that I wanted to mark you right now?” he said in a sudden rush.

You heard your sharp inhale, the question surprising you. But you knew the answer already, it was easy.

“I’d let you. Why?” You said without hesitation, carefully selecting your words you asked, “Do you want to?”

“I wasn’t expecting my heat to arrive this early, I had no idea why it happened in the middle of a hunt... But then I understood when I was standing outside the door.”

He said, “Y/N you’re ovulating.”

“Oh... wow, Joon are you trying to say what I think you’re saying?”

He looked at you as if he was calculating what to say next so as not to scare you away from him.

“Y/N, my wolf refuses anyone else, I know you know of how I used other bitches from the pack to keep myself sated during my previous hunts,” he said casually, the word bitch had very different connotations for humans and werewolves you had come to know.

You could feel your heart twinge in jealousy.

It was a sensitive topic for you, on one hand you really wanted Namjoon to be as comfortable and safe during his heats even if it meant sleeping with someone else; but it also really, really hurt to picture him in bed with the other gorgeous women of his pack.

You were insecure of your mundane genes, often comparing yourself with the strong and fierce she-wolves who had helped your boyfriend through his heats.

Namjoon spoke softly, “The past few months my wolf has been rejecting anyone who isn’t you. He wants to mate you, mark you as ours. Your ovulation must’ve sped up my heat. I can’t go on anymore without making you mine Y/N... for good.”

You were feeling strangely warm, you had obviously had sex with your boyfriend but you knew heat sex was in an entirely different league of its own.

All you could do now was nod your consent.

Namjoon stepped towards you, hands reaching out to capture your waist as his head lowered to your face.

His cheek grazing against yours, his lips brushed your earlobe as he mumbled into your ear, “Let me fuck a baby into you, Y/N. Let me breed you, please.”

You whined unconsciously at his words. Your belly warm and heat seeping through your panties. You whispered back, “Y-yes.”

With a swift change in demeanour his lips came crashing down to yours, large and calloused hands grabbing roughly at your hips as if afraid to let you go.

He growled into the kiss, his usually soft lips now tasting different because of the sheer dominance that radiated off of him.

His tongue swept against yours, making you moan wildly into his mouth, your own smaller hands grabbing onto his broad shoulders, fingers finding purchase in the thick, soft hair that curled gently at the nape of his neck.

His hand roamed south to the flesh of your ass as he cupped them with his hands and squeezed a cheek, tearing a gasp from your mouth at the surprising gesture.

Begrudgingly he pulled away from the kiss, releasing soft pants courtesy of your little makeout sesh, “Y/N I’ll ask you again, sweetheart. Are you absolutely sure you want me to mark you?”

You didn’t know if you had it in you to verbally say it, so you nodded shyly.

One of his hands came up to your chin as he gently angled your face upwards to gaze directly into his eyes.

“Use your words angel, a nod isn’t consent,” he rasped.

“I want you, Joon,” you whimpered as your eyes fell to the floor once again, unable to face your boyfriend as you openly declared your need for him.

“I want to be yours, only yours.”

You felt, rather than saw the smile creeping onto his expression.

He cupped the backs of your thighs as he hoisted you up to wrap your legs around his waist. His bulge pressing against your core. You whimpered at the soft brushes of his crotch against your clothed clit with each step he took towards your bedroom.

You giggled, the rush of hormones making you feel lightheaded as you whispered into his ear, “You grew really fast, Joonbug. Happy to see me?”

Namjoon chuckled under his breath as he looked at the spot where your cores met, and then when he brought his gaze up to meet yours you could see the shift in personality.

Your little puppy was gone. This man right here in front of you was all wolf.

He smirked at you before he answered softly, “That’s just half-hard, angel.”

Your eyes grew comically wide, surprise etched onto your expression as you once again looked down to the bulge in his trousers.

That’s what it usually looked like when you fooled around before.

You looked back up at him with questioning as he answered your unasked question, “I... change, during my heats. A lot of things about my body are going to be different when I’m like this. But I promise I’ll be very, very gentle.” He said with a soothing smile. His voice calming you down even when loaded with lust.

Slowly his arms fell to your sides as he brought your (his) sweatshirt over your head and threw it aside, followed by your shorts and then your panties.

It felt weird, being naked in front of a fully clothed Namjoon. But it also somehow made you feel safe, as if you could trust him with every piece of yourself.

Namjoon then laid you down on the bed, his hands travelling from your neck down to your heaving breasts.

His mouth working at your jaw as his skilled hands massaged the flesh of your chest, palming your nipples as his fingers tweaked and pulled at the stiff peaks.

He kissed the spot at the base of your throat that had you gushing wetness out onto the sheets. His fingers skimmed across your stomach as he finally, finally touched your core, drawing a surprised gasp from you.

His middle finger swept across your sensitive nub as he spread your juices around, stroking it and sending jolts of pleasure through your nerves.

Two fingers sank into your warm opening as he gasped at the feeling of your tight grip around him. Slowly pushing them in, in an attempt to prepare you for what’s to come.

You could hear the wet, squelching noises emanating from your cunt as Namjoon’s fingers fastened their pace.

He was having trouble tearing his gaze away from the view, his thick fingers thrusting into your pretty, quivering pussy. Creamy juices flowing down your thighs as you gasped his name softly in a medley of moans and whimpers.

You tried to straighten out your legs to cope with the intense pleasure building at the pit of your belly, warmth flowing through your body as you felt yourself get closer to that familiar edge.

Namjoon’s fingers curled as the tips grazed against the spot inside you that had you seeing stars every time.

You could vaguely make out the sound of his voice, as if you were listening through glass, “Cum for me, angel. Feel my fingers inside your filthy, little cunt and cum for me.” That was all it took for the dam inside you to burst as you groaned in pleasure. Your cunt quivering around your boyfriend’s fingers as he helped you ride out your orgasm.

The both of you waited a few moments, listening to each other’s breathing when you sat up straight and leaned foward to whisper in his ear, “Come on, it’s my turn to help you out.”

Namjoon, to your surprise, shook his head in refusal. “If you suck me off I’ll finish in ten seconds and the only place I’m cumming tonight is in your pussy, baby girl.”

You could feel the goosbumps rising on your arms at his words. He reached out and pushed you down once again, “I’ve got to prepare you well if you’re gonna take my cock, sweetheart,” he said as he ran his fingers down your torso, “So lie back, and let me taste you.”

You could feel him grinning against your thighs, his hot breath on your messy cunt making you shiver in anticipation.

His tongue swiped a kitten lick up and down your lips as a single finger pressed against your abused clit. The warm and wet appendage nudging at your opening as you gasped at the sensation.

You reached down to your boyfriend’s head between your thighs and roughly grasped strands of his hair in an attempt to cope with the overstimulation.

Soft, long strokes against your core sending shocks down to your toes as you arched your back against the sheets. Already reeling from your previous orgasm you could feel yourself reaching the end once again, much faster this time.

You felt incredibly hot, sweat forming on your forehead as Namjoon teased your clit with his mouth, gently nipping the bud with his teeth.

His hot tongue poked at your entrance and ever so gently eased in, his nose bumping against your bundle of nerves making you gasp at the sudden intrusion.

He looked up at you with his mouth still on your core, smirking and the next thing you knew you were bursting with pleasure, hot liquid splashing on your thighs as your legs jerked violently through your climax.

You could hear Namjoon’s faint chuckles, “Whoa Y/N, did I just make you squirt?” You blushed and covered your eyes with your fingers to escape his shit-eating grin. But his strong arms pulled your much smaller hands away from your face as he sat up towards you and attacked your neck once again.

His soft, plump lips mouthing at your collarbones as he drew marks across the skin. Blood red splotches that were sure to turn purple the next day. Namjoon murmured softly, “You’re mine. All of you, it’s all mine. Isn’t it, Y/N?”

You hummed in respone as you threw your head back and relished in the feeling of his breath on your neck as he bit and marked you to his desire.

He pulled back after what felt like minutes, the faint light of the moon creating a halo behind his back.

His large frame towering over yours as he spread your legs with a grip on your thighs.

He rushed to pull his t-shirt off his sculpted torso as you fumbled with the buttons of his trousers, helping him to discard the last piece of clothing keeping you from him.

The sight of his naked cock drew an audible gasp from you, it was double the size you were used to and angry red in colour. The weeping slit at the head thoroughly wetting his shaft with precum.

Namjoon touched your cheek gently to calm you, he rubbed his cock up and down your messy cunt. You leaned into his palm as he finally nudged at your opening.

You tried hard not to scream as he pushed the rest of it in, pain and pleasure intermingling as you felt like you were losing your virginity all over again.

He leaned his face down close to yours and whispered, “It’s okay, angel. Relax, take your time and get used to me, okay?”

You mumbled a small, “Mhm, okay.” Your voice straining as you felt like you were being split open. Minutes flew by and gradually you grew used to Namjoon’s size and girth inside you.

You mumbled, “You can move now, Joon.”

You could see the result of holding himself back in his expression and the way his arms shook around you.

You knew being so close to you and still not going feral was extremely difficult for him, let alone impossible for younger wolves.

But you also knew that he would never do anything to hurt you, even if it meant depriving himself of his most primal instincts instead of fucking you senseless.

He nodded in response and gave you an experimental thrust. You couldn’t help but moan at the sensation. His cock was so large you were stuffed full with no escape.

But you wanted more. You were done with being treated like a glass doll, you wanted him to let go and fuck you like he would any other she-wolf from his pack.

“I thought werewolves were tougher than this when they fucked. Or is it just you who’s scared to hurt me?” you piped up, feeling unusually feisty.

Namjoon looked up at you, his eyes piercing into yours, expression hardening upon hearing your remark. “You wanted to fuck a werewolf so bad,” he spoke softly, “Well then, take it like a big girl, Y/N.”

He thrust into you exceptionally hard, your body moving up against the mattress because of the force. His deliciously thick cock dragging against the soft, wet muscles of your cunt as he buried his nose into the crook of your neck.

Your eyes rolled back into your skull while you tried to process the immense pleasure running through you. Namjoon’s hands gripping your thighs, his balls slapping against your ass as he pushed his cock in and out of you.

You could feel every ridge, every nerve of Namjoon’s cock plunging into your pussy.

The squelching, wet noises emanating from your sex making you feel even more perverse, the obscene sounds filling your ears as you turned wetter by the second at the feel of his blunt cockhead buried deep inside you, massaging the spot that made you see stars.

Pleasure shooting through your veins and warming your belly as you felt the mixture of your juices and his precum slide down your thighs and the cheeks of your ass.

Rough, calloused hands gripping at the soft flesh of your hips with such force you were sure to find purple bruises littered the next day.

“J-joon, please make me cum. I wanna cum so bad, I can’t take it anymore! Please!” you garbled through the impact of his powerful thrusts, the sheer speed and force slamming you back into the bed with each movement of his hips.

You could hear him chuckle in your ear, the bastard.

“Tsk-tsk Y/N, be a good girl for me. You’ll cum when I want you to.” He grunted, “For now, you’re just gonna have to take it.”

A whine of frustration left your lips, the sinful noises combining with Namjoon’s almost painfully big cock assaulting your poor pussy.

You could hear your boyfriend whisper above you, “I wish you could look at your pussy right now. Oh god you’re so swollen, you’re dripping all over my cock like the little cumslut you are, waiting for me to give you my seed.”

You clenched around his cock at the thought of being filled with cum.

His cum.

“Fuck! You just got so much tighter, angel. You like that, huh? You want me to fuck my cum into you, breed you like my obedient little bitch? Gonna fill you up with my cum so you can carry my pups, my pretty little whore.”

You whined at his words, just the image of your poor, abused cunt filled with his thick cum had you salivating.

To your surprise, he had you flipped over and onto your stomach in the matter of a second.

Your ass raised instinctively while he gripped your hips with one hand with the other secure on your neck, squeezing just lightly enough to let you breathe but tight enough for you to know who owned you.

His hips snapped into yours rhythmically, his groans falling like music in your ears. Your tits bounced against your chest with each thrust he threw upon you. His balls slapped against your clit with every rough thrust, adding more to your already throbbing core.

You could feel the hot tears run down your cheeks, the overwhelming pleasure becoming too much for you to process.

The luxurious ache returning to your core you moaned his name without a care for who listened.

You could feel his hot breath nearing your neck as he drew his face close to your shoulder.

His teeth sank into the flesh as you screamed in pleasure and pain. Searing hot shocks ran through your veins as Namjoon licked at the thin rivulets of blood running down your skin. The tears flowing once again as you gasped from the thrusts.

The thought of being marked and belonging to your man had you squeezing against the large cock inside you. Namjoon had stood you up so now your back was pressed up against his hard chest while he pistoned into your thoroughly used cunt.

The hand that was once at your hip came down to rub at your neglected clit as you gasped and moaned in pleasure, the incredible pressure inside you building rapidly. His hand at your throat gently squeezing, just the way you liked it.

Namjoon’s fingers were furiously rubbing at your nub using your combined juices as lube. You had barely the energy to mumble, “Joon, I-I’m cumming! Please, baby I wanna cum so bad, please let me cum!”

You knew you sounded pathetic but to your fortune Namjoon was close to his end too, his grip having gone considerably harsher and cock largened even more inside you.

“Let go for me, slut.” he growled into your ear as you crashed once again, this time even harder thanks to the added stimulation, knowing that you were marked and now rightfully intertwined with the love of your life.

Namjoon came with a grotesque growl, hot, thick cum spurting inside you as he laid you down once again.

Hovering over you as he shot rope upon rope of his seed inside your warm, welcoming cunt.

After a minute when he was sure he was all drained out he removed his cock and instead plugged two fingers inside you, saying with an apologetic, “Gotta make sure we don’t spill.”

You giggled at his strange, instinctive behaviour.

“You know that’s not how it works, don’t you?” you said with a tired smile.

He looked at you with overwhelming love and tenderness, that favourite smile of yours painting across his beautiful face.

“Wolf habits die hard, I guess?”

#bts smut #ficswithluv #bangtanarmynet #hyunglinenetwork #btswritingcafe #bts namjoon #kim namjoon au #kim namjoon smut #namjoon fic #namjoon smut #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #werewolf!namjoon #werewolf!bts #bts rm #se0kie

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allthatyoulove · 3 years

Text

Interrogation Tactics

Poe Dameron / Supreme Leader!Reader

Summary: As Supreme Leader, you get notified of everything that happens on the ship. So when a respected Resistance pilot gets captured by the Master of Knights, your interest is piqued.

Warnings: cussing, minimal descriptions of injury, mentions of torture

Words: 1.6k

A/N: Hi everyone! I left this story open-ended for a possible short series, depending on if that’s something you guys would want! :) (Also this is a purely indulgent fic, I’ve been in a Poe phase recently). Please check out my prompt list! You can request as many prompts as you’d like! Hope you enjoy the story! Feel free to leave any feedback and please let me know of any warnings or errors I missed, thanks for stopping by :)

I stormed through the corridors of the ship to where our subject was being held. Kylo Ren had briefed me on who he was, and then reported to me how he had failed to get information out of him. Sending Kylo Ren to do it first was precisely because I didn’t want to do it myself.

Being the supreme leader, I obviously had to kill and deceive my way to get here. Although lately, it has been...different. I’ve felt this tug, a tug towards the middle ground between light and dark. No matter what I’ve done to try and get rid of it, to go completely and unreservedly back to the dark side, it doesn’t work. I’ve hid it well from everyone else, knowing the consequences that would come from finding out their supreme leader is having a pull towards the light.

Since I have to hide it, when Kylo Ren came to me to report his failure I decided to do it myself. Which is why I am storming through these corridors, furious. Maybe I can use these emotions to my advantage.

I sent away the storm troopers waiting outside the doors, not wanting them to bother me. The doors opened automatically as I stepped to them, walking into the room. The pilot was on the interrogation chair, strapped in by his ankles and wrists. I walked closer to him, finding him unconscious.

He had an injury somewhere around his temple, the hair surrounding it matted by the blood, which was dripping down all the way to his chin. His lip was bleeding as well, and he was sweating. I began to feel a tiny part of me, deep down, start to feel bad for him. Ren had knocked him unconscious due to the extreme amount of force he used. After all, capturing the pilot was all for Ren and the little mission he wanted to go on. Finding Luke Skywalker was something he was embarking on himself, a side quest in the mission that was taking down the Resistance.

I had to admit that one of the reasons I came in here myself was because I was curious. I truly had no interest in Luke Skywalker, or even why Ren wanted him- though I made him tell me anyway. I wanted to see for myself this esteemed pilot I had so much heard about. After analyzing him and his various wounds, I figured I shouldn’t wake him up using even more of the force. I stepped back, walking to a more shaded part of the room- for a little dramatic effect.

After only a few seconds, he began to stir. His eyes slowly opened, his head dropping to his chest. I stepped forward, the darkness of the room just enough to hide my face. He brought his head up, looking up at my hidden figure with bloodshot eyes.

“I had no idea we had the best pilot in the Resistance on board.” I said to him, tilting my head. I could feel how exhausted he was, barely grazing his mind. Not enough for him to know. I didn’t wait for a reply before continuing my mocking.

“Comfortable?”

His eyes squinted, trying to find me in the darkness. He seemed confused to hear a new voice, after hearing Ren’s voice everywhere for so long.

“Not really.” He replied, fidgeting in his seat. He had an alluring voice, to fit with his appearance. As this thought crossed my mind, I was grateful that only one of us was force sensitive. I could tell through his reply, without looking into his mind, that he was nervous. Scared, even. I didn’t blame him. I knew what getting tortured felt like.

I dismissed his response, wanting to feed my curiosity.

“You know... I’m impressed.” I said, slowly walking towards him. “Even Kylo Ren wasn’t able to get out of you what you did with the map.” I raised my chin as I stepped into the light, putting my hands behind my back. I wanted him to realize I wasn’t going to torture him again- even if I could do it without my hands just as easily. He didn’t need to know that just yet.

He swallowed, his eyes stuck on my face. His thoughts were loud as his mouth dropped open slightly.

Wow...very attractive.

I wanted to smirk, but I didn’t want him to know I could hear his thoughts. I kept my face neutral, waiting for his reply. It came after a couple more seconds.

“He might want to rethink his technique.” He said, licking his lips as his gaze darted down to my hands for a second. Once he saw that they were behind my back, he seemed to relax into the chair a little more. He was still nervous, but for a different reason now. He must not realize my position in the First Order. That would’ve changed things. However, I couldn’t help but feel a sense of relief that he didn’t know.

“The Resistance will not be intimidated by you.” He continued, trying to sound confident, but instead sounding unsure.

I felt that tiny part of me that felt bad for him growing, now feeling a need to let him know that I wouldn’t hurt him. I didn’t want to think too much into these realizations. I just needed to act on it. I didn’t want him to be scared of me. I dismissed his sentence with a wave of my hand, as though I was clearing his words from the air.

“You don’t have to worry. I have no interest in Kylo Ren’s task to find the map.” I said, looking at his injuries again.

He furrowed his brows, raising his head. We were eye level with each other because of the angle that the chair had him in. He stared at me, with confusion. The feelings running through me when our eyes met were foreign. Most people I talk to on a daily basis avoid eye contact, knowing what I’m capable of. Others, like Kylo Ren, have a mask on to avoid that as well. These feelings were all new for me, and were starting to frighten me with the quickness at which they were developing.

“But that’s fascinating- you're advocating for the Resistance, even in a position like this.” I continued, looking at him up and down- reminding him of our places. I wanted to fight against the part of me that felt bad for him. I didn’t want him to think I would hurt him but I didn’t want him to think I was weak, either.

“Wait- so if you’re not here to torture me again… what do you want from me?” He asked, shaking his head in confusion. I lifted the corner of my mouth in a small smirk as I replied.

“I’m here for the sole purpose of indulging my curiosity.” I said, starting to walk around the chair. He turned his head to follow me.

“I’m flattered.” He replied, half monotone in sarcasm, but half...not.

As I returned back to my place in front of him, I dropped my smirk and remained silent for a second. He just continued to look at me, up and down. I couldn’t make out whether he was staring in interest or disgust at my all black attire. He flinched slightly when I spoke up.

“Where’d you learn to do it?” I asked, staring at him in what I hoped was an intimidating way. It was starting to get difficult to hide my interest towards him, to put up my fearsome dark side demeanor. This was alarming. He raised an eyebrow, switching his gaze between my eyes and the rest of my face.

“Do what?”

“Keep Kylo Ren out of your mind.” I replied, as if it was obvious.

He swallowed again, sinking further into the chair.

“Maybe he’s just not as strong as he thinks he is.”

I almost laughed at that, at how Kylo Ren would react should he be here. He would throw a fit. This pilot was very good at hitting where it hurts, at pushing buttons. Instead I just smirked, in amusement. He realized that he made me smile, his face lighting up in a smile as well.

“Maybe. Or maybe someone taught you how.” I said, tilting my head again in a belittling way. I ran my eyes down his figure in an evaluating way. His genuine smile turned into a smirk of pride. I made sure to shut it down.

“I could always find out…”I said, bringing one of my arms from my back and bringing it towards him. He tried to sink into his chair as much as he could, staring at my hand and straining himself to keep me out. I had been in his head this entire time. Now, however, I wasn’t trying to. I just wanted him to think I was.

I kept my hand there for a second before bringing it back down and smiling at him.

“Nice talking to you, pilot.” I said before turning and walking back through the door, not waiting for a response or looking back at him.

I walked back down the corridors, a pair of stormtroopers walking towards me.

“Go to Kylo Ren, tell him I have the information he needs regarding the map and to meet me at the overbridge.” I said, not stopping my strides as they listened. I heard an affirmation that they would relay the message as I turned the corner.

Later in the day when I heard the news that the pilot had escaped- with the help of one of our stormtroopers, I can’t say I was as mad as I had painted myself to be. A part of me was amused. Amused that the plan he had in his head of how he was going to escape the entire time we talked had worked. That same part of me wished him genuine luck in hiding from the First Order troops that were sent after him, courtesy of none other than Kylo Ren.

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron one shot #star wars imagine #star wars fanfiction #poe dameron fic #poe dameron fanfiction #star wars #kylo ren #poe dameron fluff #poe #poe x reader

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ijustwant2write · 3 years

Text

Confidence-Bucky Barnes x Powers!Reader

(GIF credit to @sunoficarus)

Requested by anonymous: ‘Hello there angel! I've been reading your cute imagines lately and they really warmed my heart and got me out of depression cloud! so i tried to be brave and request something bcs i'm usually shy ><~ can i request a Bucky Barnes x Reader oneshot, the reader is kinda a chubby avenger and she has feelings for him but she gets sad bcs she thinks he'll never fall for someone like her bcs sh's not like the other pretty female avengers annnddd.. yeah! XD~♡’

Characters: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Natasha Romanoff x Reader (platonic)

Meanings: (Y/N)=Your name

Replication=Being able to make a copy of yourself, biological cloning, or the splitting of the body into multiples

Warnings: Insecurity, negative talk about weight/image, sad/crying reader, fluff

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

Opening the fridge, I took out a water bottle, instantly opening it before taking a big swig. We had come back from a mission early afternoon, the team had been away for just over a week, so it was good to be back. Even though I had showered, eaten and unpacked, I still had an immense thirst in me.

"Hey, I'm making toast, you want some?" Natasha asked as she walked in.

"No, I've eaten thank you." I replied, sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar.

As she began making her food, she continued talking."You OK after the last week?"

"Yeah, just tired. The longest mission I've done is four days, it's amazing what a few more days can do to you."

"You were great out there, a real natural. Your powers are much more controlled than they used to be."

"Thanks, it's all down to the training I guess."

"And your confidence."

"Really?"

Nat placed three pieces of bread into the toaster, turning around to face me once the lever was pushed down."Yes! It wasn't like you were extremely shy when you first came, but there's a difference in you."

If only I was this confident around someone else.

“You gonna head up early tonight?” Nat asked.

“Definitely. The last time I used my powers like that was when you guys first brought me in. And that was when I didn’t have as much control over them. I think it’s a good idea, we all need the rest.”

“So am I. Actually, Dr Cho wanted to see you. She said something really medical and science-y to explain why but I made no sense to me. Something about your cells splitting...or recreating?"

"Oh, she did mention that before we left. Think she's trying to help me connect more with my replicas, so that I can confuse whoever we're attacking even more. Thanks for telling me."

She nodded, turning around once the toast popped up. I said goodbye, scrolling on my phone as I made my way to Dr Cho's lab. My power to basically clone multiple versions of myself seemed useless at first, until I figured out how to control them and thought about tactics they were useful in. It was very strategic, everything had to be carefully planned. But now that I was getting used to it, everything seemed like second nature. And I had the team to thank for that.

"Hey (Y/N), thanks for coming by." Helen greeted as I walked into her lab, holding her tablet as she usually did.

"Hi. So, am I being wired up to a machine today?"

She smiled."No, nothing like that. Tony and I have been working together on something that will ensure you can keep track of all your replicas."

Helen turned her back to me, grabbing a tray with what looked like four silver bracelets. She gestured for me to stand by her as she placed the tray on the table in front of us.

"These are your new accessories." she started, picking up a pair."You'll wear them when on missions, and these will be able to connect you to any replicas you create. It's just to help you keep a better track. And any time they are hurt in anyway, the energy from the hit will drive into your bracelet."

"Like T'Challa's armour?"

Helen nodded."But instead of propelling back that energy, it'll just mean your replica can hold the energy and use it as a shield. Say someone was stood behind it and the enemy attacked the replica, the real person behind them would be safe."

"That's amazing!"

She held out her hand, wanting me to give her my wrist. I complied, letting her put the bracelets on me. They glowed blue before returning to the silver colour, feeling weightless on me.

"They're able to become translucent depending on what uniform you're wearing. That way they won't be able to differentiate you from your replicas."

"Wow, thank you."

"Don't thank me just yet. We still need to trial them. I definitely need Tony for this, just to make sure he's happy with them."

"I think he's gone to rest right now."

With a cheeky grin, she said,"Don't worry, he won't mind, this is important."

Helen left me by myself, and I felt slightly awkward around all of the expensive and confusing technology that surrounded me. A thought flashed in my mind to try out the bracelets, but I decided against it, not wanting to risk anything going wrong. Slipping them off and placing them back on the table, I caught myself in the reflection of the windows. My hands subconsciously moved to my stomach, brushing against it before grabbing the skin; they traced upwards to my forearms, repeating my actions despite my brain screaming that I shouldn't. It grossed me out every time, why would I want to touch those parts of me?

Turning to look at myself side on, I sighed at how stomach looked, almost wincing as my gaze travelled down to my thighs. All that training, the healthy meals I ate, where were the results? Why didn't I look like Natasha or Wanda? I battled with my conscious everyday over this. The tiniest part of it begged me to not look at myself that way, not to throw my hard work away or belittle myself over such a thing; but that was an extremely rare thing to happen, and that voice was hard to hear. The voice that spoke much too often had something completely different to say. It would force me to look at myself whenever I passed anything reflective, to make sure I looked decent, although I never did. It wanted to point out my flaws, it wanted to make me aware and punish me for looking like this,despite all the hard work I put into training. And training had never been about losing weight, it was purely strengthening, learning how to fight/defend myself as well as keep up with my stamina.

Taking a deep breath in, I faced myself properly, squeezing my hands in and out of fists as I replicated myself, scanning my eyes over every single version of me. There were seven of me altogether, three replicas on either side of me, and I wondered why I even thought about doing this to myself. I made each replica turn more than the other, meaning I was looking at myself at every angle, and I hated all of them. It wasn't fair. Why was my power to make copies of myself when I didn't even like the one, true version of me?

"(Y/N)?" someone startled me, my replicas instantly disappearing.

Whipping around as my concentration broke, my face broke out into a blush as I saw Bucky standing in the doorway. It just had to be him, why couldn't it have been anyone else?

"Y-yes?" I stuttered, immediately breaking eye contact.

"Sorry, I needed to speak to Dr Cho."

"Sh-she, uh, she just left, a-actually."

"OK, I'll come by later." I glanced up, seeing him move to leave before turning back to me."You sure you're alright?"

I nodded."Mhm."

He slowly nodded, but mostly to himself."Good job this week by the way, you were great."

I hated how hot I was feeling after the compliment, even when he was gone I felt embarrassed by myself. Did he see me looking at myself like that? He must have thought I was an absolute weirdo for doing such a thing!

Helen reappeared, a yawning Tony following in behind her."Right, this shouldn't take too long-"

"I'm sorry, I don't think I can do this right now." I blurted out."I’m really tired and I want to make sure that the results are accurate."

They were taken back by my snappy tone, slowly nodding as I refrained from bolting out of the room. Brushing past them, my hands instantly wrapped around my torso, making a beeline towards the elevator. My breaths were sort and sharp as I hit the button, fingers poking into my sides as I crossed them again. Why wasn’t I toned? Why was I able to grab so much skin? Once I was out of the elevator, I picked up the pace towards my room, resisting slamming the door to not gain any more attention. Grabbing the throw at the end of my bed, I threw it over the mirror, making sure I could not see any part of myself before I collapsed onto my bed, covering myself with the bed sheets.

Silent sobs ran through me as I gripped onto the sheets that were bunched up around me. I hated my mind, I hated how I looked, I hated how I could never be at peace with how I looked. Sleep would come to me late tonight, but only once I exhausted myself from crying. And I hoped that I would not dream tonight.

Waking up, I felt how dry my moth and lips were, and also where the tears had stained my cheeks, as well as my pillow. My neck was aching from the position I had fallen asleep in, it felt worse as I pushed myself up into a sitting position. Rubbing my eyes, I coughed to clear my throat, definitely needing water after I felt how hoarse it was. Although it would have been so much easier to stay holed up in my room all day, avoid questions from everyone (even making small talk could reveal how I was really feeling), staying here would cause more fuss than needed.

"Good morning Miss (Y/L/N)." Vision greeted as I walked the halls.

"Morning." I mustered up the best smile.

"I hope I am not coming across as rude or interfering, but are you alright?"

I nodded, hiding my panic."Yeah, just a little tired from the mission. And I think overwhelmed, it's been my longest one yet."

"That is understandable. Though I am sure the experience will serve you well in future missions, especially with your stamina."

"Yep, hopefully."

Vision hadn't done anything wrong, he was being a good friend. But my mind wondered whether anything had been said about me. Did I look bad? Did I look exhausted? Why did he mention stamina? He could have just left that part out. I engaged with more small talk as we made our way down to the kitchen (Vision liked to be part of an everyday routine), though part of me wished that I was alone again.

"Ah, morning Mr Barnes." Vision said as we walked in, and I instantly cringed.

"Morning." Bucky mumbled, sending a small smile our way, but I quickly looked elsewhere. He was finishing a bowl of cereal as he sat at the kitchen island.

"Miss (Y/L/N), could I tempt you with a fully cooked breakfast? Something that is full of nutrition but still quite enjoyable? I believe it would help with your recovery." Vision offered.

"Oh, that's very kind Vis." I quietly said."But I'll just stick to coffee for now."

"You sure? I wouldn't pass up that opportunity." Bucky added.

I could only muster,"Mhm." before focusing on the coffee machine in front of me.

"Well, the offer stands if you wish for it." Vision said, and I could tell I had upset him.

He said his goodbyes to us as he left, leaving me alone with Bucky. Keeping my back to him, I played with the end of my sleeves, coming up with normal answers that I could say if Bucky started asking questions. I knew that even with backup answers, I wouldn't be able to speak properly to him, my mind would go blank.

"You should have something to eat really. At least an apple or something." Bucky said.

"I'll have one once I've woken up more. Don't feel like eating just yet, think I'm overtired."

"Just make sure you're looking after yourself."

I poured out the coffee into a mug, prepared to leave when I caught Bucky looking at me. My demeanour became smaller, shy, more withdrawn.

"What were you doing the other day? In the lab?"

"I...was testing out a new gadget Tony and Dr Cho created for me."

"(Y/N), I don't want to make assumptions-"

"Then believe what I say. Why would I be lying?"

He looked shocked."I didn't say anything like that."

My eyes cast down, panic setting into my mind, I wanted the ground to open up and swallow me. Forgetting about my coffee, I gave myself no other choice than to run away from any confrontation. I thought that would be the end of it, it usually was, but I heard footsteps behind me, heavy ones, belonging to Bucky. At first, I kept going, hoping he was just going to call out to me before giving up, but again, I was wrong.

“(Y/N), please!” Bucky pleaded.

Not knowing where to go made me falter, it was only for a split second, that was enough time for Bucky to open a door and drag me inside. Breaking away from him, I sighed when I realised we were in an old conference room; it was empty now, no furniture or screens, it was currently being upgraded and renovated. However, that also meant no one would have any intention of walking in, meaning we were very likely to not be interrupted.

“Bucky, I don’t want to talk about this.” I rushed out.

“So there is something wrong!” he exclaimed, but kept his tone calm.

“It doesn’t concern you.”

“You’re my friend, my teammate (Y/N), I care about you.”

“Fine! You want to know what’s wrong? I’m surrounded by images of strong, fit people, who I work just as hard as, yet I never look like them! I train and train and train, but for some cruel reason, my body never changes. Sure, I’ve slimmed down slightly since I arrived here, but it’s not enough for me. I’ve been called a superhero, I fight alongside all of you with your slim physiques, huge muscles and beautiful faces; so when I see a picture, or news footage of us fighting, I look like the odd one out, the huge odd one out. I don’t look right standing beside any of you, even an agent from S.H.I.E.L.D.”

Bucky didn’t say anything. His mouth was slightly open, eyes squinted and eyebrows furrowed as he continued staring at me. I scoffed, facing away from him.

“Now you’re seeing it. Or at least your thoughts about me are confirmed. I understand. I know you guys are my friends, you don’t care what I look like. But you must look at me in the line up and think I look out of place.”

“(Y/N), I could never look at you, or think of you in that way.”

“You don’t have to pity me-”

“I’m not. (Y/N), you don’t realise how beautiful you are.”

I glanced over my shoulder, shocked by his sentence.“Don’t do this to make me feel better, because it doesn’t work.”

He took a step closer to me.“How long have you been holding this in for?”

“I’m a woman who’s been bigger than everyone else around me my entire life, and I also have powers which made me a freak before people realised I could save them. So, basically my whole life.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“Why would anyone in my position want to speak up about this? You didn’t say anything when your nightmares came back.”

I saw that throw him off.

“I’m sorry Bucky, I didn’t mean to...to mention it, or-”

“No, you’re right. I know what it feels like to keep something to yourself. You don’t want to burden anyone around you, especially the ones you love. You think it’s not that important, that you can handle it by yourself, or you can ignore it until it goes away. But that’s not the right way to handle things. I can see that, looking back on everything.”

“But your nightmares were worth talking about. They scarred you, reminded you of that awful past. I’m a stupid girl crying over weight that can easily be shifted if I just work harder.”

“You would work yourself to death if you did that. (Y/N), I see you everyday training hard, making sure your powers are being improved everyday, going over tactics you can use by yourself or with the team. Everyday you ensure you are at your best because you want to help people out there that can’t defend themselves. If people judge you on how you look instead of your actions, they’re not even worth thinking about.”

Letting my arms drop to my sides, I faced Bucky, gathering enough courage to look him in the eyes.“Thanks Bucky.”

“(Y/N) I mean it. I’m not saying this to just be nice. You matter to me.”

“I know-”

“No, you don’t. I...I really like you (Y/N). And I know you may not see me in the same way, but you’re such a caring, powerful and hard working person. We come back from a mission, and you could be carried out on a stretcher but you still keep positive and make sure everyone else is safe before yourself. I’m telling you this because...well it just feels right. I’m also not making this up because you need validation from a man to make you feel better about yourself. You should be able to look at yourself in the mirror and love what you see, no matter what you look like.”

My chin was trembling as my lips pursed, trying to hold back my tears. Shaky breath escaped my nostrils, and as Bucky kept looking at me with those nurturing, safe eyes, I broke. No one had ever said something like that to me. I could tell he meant it. He wouldn’t be putting all this effort into this if he just wanted to be a good friend.

“Do...do you really mean it?” my voice wobbled.

He smiled.“Yes.”

Bucky wrapped his arms around me tenderly, pulling me into his chest. Surprisingly, my instincts made me quickly copy, gripping onto his t-shirt as I started sobbing. My mind was confused. One minute I was absolutely hating myself, then I had covered up my sadness, panicking because someone was about to see me break, and here I was, letting it all out in front of him. But I didn’t feel embarrassed like I thought I would. It felt amazing to feel that dragging weight on my shoulders suddenly lift away, the comfort of someone else was welcoming.

“Th-thank you Bucky.” I sniffed.“I’ve always thought that I need to keep this sort of thing to myself. I’ve been terrified to even be sad, even though I know it’s OK to be sad, but for some reason, my mind would never let me. It’s been building up inside of me, I’ve never been able to express myself properly.”

“We’re here for you, I’m here for you. I’ll always be here to listen...and you tell you how beautiful you are every time I see you.”

I giggled as I pulled away, wiping my cheeks.“You don’t have to do that.”

“I do. I want to.”

“Thank you Bucky, I really appreciate your help.”

He kissed my forehead.“I’ll always be here.”

139 notes · View notes

haravath0t · 3 years

Text

A Christmas Heist Pt. I - The Briefing

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: None, just fluff in the end! (I am truly a sucker for fluff)

A request made by @hailhydra920 !! Thank you so so much!

A/N: Hello, lovelies! Wow, a day early! Welcome to Part 1 of the Christmas Heist! I truly truly hope that you guys enjoy this as much as I did writing it! Much much hard work was needed, so feedback and commentary is very much appreciated! Happy reading, lovelies! :)

Request: “Bucky X reader where a Hydra agent dressed up as Santa and Bucky has to fight him, but the only way he can get close enough to “Santa” is dressing up as an elf. Thanks!”

*Introduction to this multi-part request can be found here!

“With all due respect Fury, we’re going to put the public at risk just by stepping into that mall.” Bucky chimes in, analyzing the map of the mall, the responses making Fury smirk and scoff.

“You wouldn’t be putting the public at risk if you are part of the public, now would you?”

This made all of you now confused. “What are you trying to get at, Fury?” Steve questions, leaning over now onto the table. “What I’m saying is that you all will be working in this mall. Rogers, you’re going to be their new employee-” You stop Fury’s explanation right on with your snicker and a shake of your head. “But Steve knows nothing about technology-” “Which is why he’s the one going in that store,” Fury cuts you off this time, his eyes widening as he replies with a “duh” attitude. You hated to admit it, but he had a point.

“Cap will be disguised as an employee. Cap will only be making sure that the customers are welcomed and should they need any help, you refer them to another skilled employee, as the agents who have put this together have said. In the meantime, you can blend and wander around the store in order to find the hard drive” Steve nods, pursing his lips as he processes his role. “Alright, but what would be the use of the other two?”

“That’s where the other building across it comes in,” Fury replies, circling it with his pointer. “Now, this is the toy store across the apple store, which is highly popular now as it transformed to a Christmas toy store. From what our agents have observed, Hydra agents are disguised in this as well. The main concern applies to the one disguised as the Santa Claus that lets kids sit on his lap. Ho, ho, ho.” You couldn’t help but snicker. “Seriously? Santa Claus? You gotta be joking, Fury.” Fury shrugs.

“Laugh all you want, agent. It is in truth quite an interesting tactic because,” Fury raises his hands as he lets the diagram of the floor be shown through a different angle, enabling you three to see the mall as if you were walking in it, only to see the apple store across from where the powerpoint stops at. “You are looking at the apple store right from Santa’s chair. The hydra agent can look over the store and see if there are any forms of suspicious activity. You got to hand this one to them, although we are not in an easy position, obtaining the hard drive is still possible.” “So where do we come in on this Christmas toy store business then,” Bucky then questions for you two, watching Fury carefully. Your guess was probably a regular employee at the cash register. Maybe a manager? Security guard?

“Well let’s just say that the store had open positions for Mrs. Claus and an elf.” Is the reply that comes out of Fury’s mouth.

Now that was definitely not what you were expecting.

Your eyes went big alongside Bucky’s, the two of you looking at each other in disbelief. “Fury, I know we’ve known each other for a while and I know your humor, but this has gone too far for a joke-”“Oh this is no joke, L/N. You and Barnes need to stay close to this “Santa” of ours just in case there is any communication going on behind the scenes.” Fury says, a hint of a smile being visible as he tries his best not to snicker. Steve did not help the situation, as he quietly chuckled and looked down and covered his mouth, clearing his throat to hide the laughter. Bucky was not pleased at all, glaring at both Fury and Steve. “You really call this a dire mission when you’re playing dress up with me and Y/N?! Are you kidding?” Bucky questions, eyes fixed on Fury and clearly showing his disappointment.

“I did say we have to hide you three from hydra’s and the public’s eye right?! Or do you immediately want to be spotted and targeted by these agents, Agent Barnes?!” Fury says strictly, the hint of laughter and smiles now gone and replaced by a pointed look, one that most would be intimidated by.

Although you hated what was being asked of you, you saw why it needed to be done. You placed your hand on top of Bucky’s arm, giving him a knowing look, causing Bucky to pause and ground himself. This would be better explained later. Fury huffed before handing each of you three manilla envelopes.

“Look over these. They have your fake IDs, information about you that the staff knows about, as well as the files we have found on the hydra agents actively participating. We are putting you in the job early on to avoid suspicion. Two apartments will be available to you three in the meantime so that they can’t track you back here. The hard drive, according to a call we have intercepted, will be picked up in less than two weeks to be taken to their base, so that the specialists can handle the rest and be up to date. One suspicious slip up, and we’re done for. Are we clear?”

The three of you nodded, allowing Fury to adjourn the meeting and leave the room with the already waiting Agent Hill, leaving the three of you watching each other. “I guess we’ll pack up, and meet at my office, and we’ll decide what to do from there. Meet me in 45 minutes.” Is what Steve says, before exiting out, leaving just you and Bucky to yourselves. You sighed and held his hand as you two walked out. “Gee, you would think we would catch a break during the holidays,” You say first letting yourself be guided by Bucky into the elevator, pressing the button to your floor. Bucky kissed your knuckles and offered you a little smile. “I know, sweetheart. But we make a good team, you, me, and Steve. That’s why we got called in. So that we can come back home sooner since we’re going to do the job much quicker.” You leaned your head against his arm and chuckled a bit.

“So an elf and Mrs. Claus… how great… it’s just reminding me of that movie elf.”

This made Bucky smile. He was always amazed by your optimism.

“That movie we saw the other day, right?” He questions as the two of you made your way to your shared room, already grabbing your duffle bag and suitcase to pack weapons and clothes. “Yeah, that one!” You say, a small giggle leaving your lips and shaking your head. “Goodness, if the costume you wear for the mall is something similar to that I am only going to hope that I can keep myself together.” This made Bucky’s cheeks slowly turn red in embarrassment, thinking about Buddy’s tight yellow tights and green wardrobe. “Gosh, sweetheart, I really don’t think it’s great to think about right n-”

“Oh my gosh, what if you have to be eating spaghetti covered with maple syrup and marshmallows, and then even more candy and-”

“Really, doll? Ya gotta include embarrassing me in this last minute mission of ours?” He questions, face now red from hearing your laugh as he packs his essentials. “Whatever, we have a mission to do, so I know you wouldn’t be able to look at my elf costume so much.” You giggle and smile at him, zipping up your duffle and getting your suitcase ready.

“I think I can get a peek or two. Besides, what about this is new? I personally think this should be a piece of cake compared to raiding hydra bases,” You say reassuringly, kissing his cheek as you pass by him to get some clothes. Bucky couldn’t help but give you a small smile, watching you as you get ready.

He hated to admit it, but the guy could not help but worry for his girl no matter how many times you two have partnered in assignments. Sure, you might have found this funny and easy, but the concern of you possibly getting hurt was always in the back of his mind even when you went over to where you three would be staying for the meantime. He was now watching over your sleeping figure, tracing your side delicately with his vibranium digits, sighing upon the realization that he is yet again sleepless, worrying about you.

“Mmmm Buck, stop worrying about me and go to sleep,” you mutter sleepily, halting all of his concerns. You always knew what he was thinking. His blue eyes met your sleepy ones, but he couldn’t help but smile at the state you were in. “Come back to me, Buck. You’re like a million miles away up in that head of yours,” you tease with a cute sleepy smile that he could not resist to admire. He let out a sigh and shook his head and shrugged, bringing you closer to him.

“You know… should anything happen to you, it’s my fault. Anything that-”

“Stop that talk, James. You know that that isn’t true. You and I are professionals at this, and we are going to make sure that nothing wrong happens. Okay? Trust me, trust us. You, me, and Steve are going to do just fine. It is not our first rodeo, okay?” You whisper reassuringly, delicate fingers lightly caressing his cheek. A soft smile kisses the man’s lips, watching you in awe. You did always know what to say, hitting his concerns one at a time effortlessly. “You’re right, sweetheart, you’re right.” You smiled before you leaned forward, pressing your lips gently into his in a soft and comforting kiss, pulling away to nuzzle your nose against his.

“I always am. Now why don’t we sleep? You and I have a mission to do and you know how much Steve hates us lollygagging. Or must I read you a bedtime story?” You tease, eyebrows wiggling, causing you both to giggle and ultimately relax. “You’d love to do just that, wouldn’t you, doll?” You smiled once again, giving your lover one more small peck before you nuzzle into his neck, allowing the scent of his cologne to surround your senses. “You and I know how I’d answer that,” you manage to mutter, before quickly returning to your wanted slumber. Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle, combing your hair ever so gently as sleep slowly starts to take over. “Mmm… you know me too well. Goodnight, Y/N,” he whispers into your head, holding you close before he also falls into his sleep.

Boy, were you three in for a treat.

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*if you would like to be a part of my tag list, please let me know! ☺️

Part 2: Going Undercover

#bucky barnes #bucky #bucky barnes x reader #buckybarnesxreader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes scenario #mcu #james buchanan barnes #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #the christmas heist #fandom-basurero fics

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wr1ter-reader-dreamer · 3 years

Text

Angel (Pt. 3)

Harry Styles x Reader

A/N: This one was inspired by Harry’s song Only Angel. It’s five parts in total. If you like it, be sure to give it a reblog and check out the other parts linked below. Thanks, and enjoy <3

Warnings: Mention of teen pregnancy and miscarriage. Very brief.

Masterlist

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 4 - Part 5

As I stood in front of the door to room 839, I couldn’t make myself knock. I had been so angry this whole time, but now I just felt deflated. facing Harry scared me. He had hurt me so bad, and he still had so much hold over me. If he hurt me again, I didn’t know if I could handle it.

Taking a deep breath for the millionth time today, I raised my fist and knocked. Two seconds later, the door was pulled open and I was standing face to face with the man who broke my heart.

“Hey, angel,” he smirked and leaned against the door frame, “you’re late.”

And just like that, my anger was back full force. I shoved past him with an eye roll, “Don’t start that ‘angel’ shit with me, Styles, it’ll only piss me off more.”

“But you are an Angel,” he said, stepping back inside and closing the door, “my Angel.”

“I am not your angel,” I snapped as I rounded on him, arms crossed, “and I can’t believe you played that fucking song!”

He rolled his eyes, “You can’t expect me to have a song called ‘Only Angel’ and not play it at the Victoria’s Secret Fashion Show.”

“You shouldn’t even have that song!” I said, the volume of my voice beginning to elevate, “What made you think releasing that would be in any way ok?”

He shrugged, “It’s a good song and I like the memories.”

“You like the memories?” I scoffed, “Wow. Of course you’d like the memories of the single biggest mistake of my life.”

“I think that’s a little harsh, angel,” he rolled his eyes.

“A little harsh?” I shouted, “Do you not remember what happened after we fucked, Harry?”

“Of course I remember,” he said defensively, “I went away on tour and you decided you couldn’t handle a relationship like that and you left me.”

I could barely restrain my anger at his total misconstrual of the past. He was lying to me and himself if that’s what he thought had happened.

“No, Harry,” I said, my voice deadly calm, “What fucking happened is my mom found your nudes on my phone and took it away. Then we found out I was pregnant and she beat me half to death before deciding to send me to a boarding school. She paid for shit but she never talked to me again. And the whole time my brother stood by, too pissed to talk to me because I tried to steal his best friend.”

“What?” he breathed, his face completely deflated.

I chuckled darkly, “Yep, and then by the time I got my phone back two months later, you were in the tabloids all over Taylor Swift and I realized you never loved me. Then you got back from tour and were buddy-buddy with my brother like nothing ever happened.”

Harry blinked but his voice was only a whisper when he spoke, “He told me that you chose boarding school and that you didn’t want to see me or for them to talk about you with me. I have a child?”

“No. Don’t you think if I had a child you would’ve seen it on the Internet?” I rolled my eyes, “I miscarried after Mom beat me.”

“Y/N, I’m so sorry,” he said, genuine pain and sorrow in his eyes when they met mine, “I had no idea.”

I shrugged, wiping my eyes to rid them of the tears that had welled up, “It doesn’t matter. You never loved me anyway, so it’s not like things would’ve been any different if you had known.”

Harry shook his head and moved towards me, stopping when he was close enough he could’ve touched me.

“That’s not fucking true,” he growled, “I did love you, I still do, and I would’ve helped you.”

I scoffed, “Sure, that’s why you moved on so fast.”

“I was trying to get over you,” he said firmly, “I thought you didn’t love me.”

“It doesn’t matter who loved who anymore,” I said, shaking my head, “You should’ve never released that song, and you definitely shouldn’t have blindsided me with it on the most important night of my life.”

He frowned, “I’m sorry. I thought it would get you back, and I’d figured you’d heard it before.”

“Why would I have heard it, even if things had happened the way you thought?”

He shrugged, “I don’t know. I guess I just hoped you followed what I did the way I follow everything you do.”

I looked away, not knowing what to do with that information. Why would he care about what I did? I was just some girl he had a fling with. He never really cared that much about me.

“Hey,” Harry called, waiting till my eyes met his to continue, “I’m sorry I released the song. And I’m so sorry I didn’t dig more to find out what really happened. I should’ve been there for you.”

Just like that, all of my anger and contempt for Harry Styles was gone. I couldn’t blame him for abandoning me or trying to hurt me with that song because he didn’t. He didn’t know what was happening at home. My brother lied to him, and I never reached out to him. Nothing that happened to me was his fault, and I was so tired of holding on to all of it. So I just let it go.

Harry must’ve seen on my face that I was about to break because he rushed to wrap his arms around me, pulling me tight against his chest. I couldn’t stop myself from crying as I unloaded all of the animosity towards him that I’d been clinging to for years. I had always hated him for not being there for me, but now, knowing that he had no idea what was happening, I wasn’t angry anymore. He was still the good man I fell in love with all those years ago, not the monster I had convinced myself he was.

I cried for longer than I would’ve liked, my tears quickly soaking through Harry’s white shirt. He just held me the whole time, slowly putting back together some of my broken pieces. Arms secure around me, he didn’t say anything until my sobs were just sniffles and I was pulling back from his chest.

“Thank you,” I sniffled, cringing when I noticed the wet spot on his shirt, “Sorry about that.”

He just chuckled and rubbed his ring clad fingers soothingly along my back, “It’s not a problem angel, I’ll do anything for you.”

I rolled my eyes at the ever present pet name, “Still not your angle.”

“You’ll always be my angel,” he said seriously.

Deciding to lighten the mood, I pulled out of his arms and raised my eyebrows at him, “Too bad I’m Victoria’s Angel now.”

“Oh you think so,” Harry laughed, reaching out to tickle my sides like he used to, “always the smart ass.”

I laughed and squirmed away from him, but he was on me again in a second. Harry tickled me relentlessly, not letting up until there were happy tears in my lungs and no air in my lungs.

“Ok, ok!” I laughed, finally pushing his hands away, “You win.”

“I always win,” he stated smugly.

Rolling my eyes, I bent down to retrieve my purse from where it had fallen on the floor. I could feel Harry’s eyes on my ass but chose not to say anything when I realized it was something I had missed. With a light chuckle, I pulled my phone out of my purse and nearly had a heart attack when I saw the time.

“Shit,” I cursed, shoving my phone in my jeans pocket.

“What’s wrong?” Harry asked.

“I’m supposed to be at the party in five minutes but I’m not anywhere near ready,” I said as I frantically looked around to make sure nothing had fallen out of my purse.

“I don’t know love, you look like an Angel to me.”

I paused to fix Harry with an unamused stare, but he just burst out laughing. After a second of him trying to calm down and me just staring at him, he began ushering me out the door, “Ok, ok, I get it. Go get ready for your party.”

Before he could get me out the door, I turned to look at him, “You’re coming to the party too, right?”

He smiled softly and nodded, “Of course, I’ll meet you there.”

I nodded and turned to leave, “Good, ‘cause I’ll be looking for you.”

“Good,” he called after me as I moved down the hallway, “‘cause it’s finally time to get my angel back.”

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