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juicyc0utur3 · 5 months

Note

johnnie x y2k reader smut if you’re comfortable w it??

fuuck yes ty anon

don’t rlly know how to incorporate the style into the fic so im js gonna make some extra headcannons later hope that’s okay ♡︎

warnings: smut, biting

nsfw under the cut

Takeout (Johnnie Guilbert x Fem! Reader)

“M’ bored.” she whines. Johnnie scoffs and smiles. “You’re always bored.”

The two of them had been dating for about 4 months now, and were roommates with Jake for even longer. She didn’t know what drew him to her, or what he even liked about her. They two definitely had different personalities and styles, but apparently they compliment each other well, according to Jake.

They get a knock on Johnnie’s door, before Jake’s head pops in. “You guys want takeout for dinner?” Her and Johnnie look up at Jake, before she says “Yeah, sure.” He nods and leaves, shutting the door behind him.

They go back to their original tasks; Johnnie plucking notes out on his guitar, her quietly reading a book. She fidgets with the hem of her miniskirt.

He’d just come back from a long tour, and she’d been missing him. And she’d recently been very aroused. Not that she’d ever tell anyone if she didn’t have to, but she’d been touching herself and it hadn’t been helping. Her fingers didn’t feel like anything anymore, but she didn’t want to bother him. He was probably still tired and jetlagged from the tour, and last thing she wanted to do was give him more to do.

She glances up at him, studying his concentrated face as his fingers glided over the guitar. His hair, his face. He doesn’t have any makeup on right now, so all she could really pay attention to was his bare face and his eyes. Gorgeous eyes. “Johnnie?” she says absentmindedly, putting down her book. He sets his guitar on his lap and locks eyes with her. “Yeah?”

“Can you come over here, hon?”

Confused, he sets his guitar down, and uncrosses his legs to dismount the bed and come to her. She scoots over to make room for him on the mini black couch where she’d been sitting. “Are you okay?” he asks. “Yeah.”

“Did you need something?” he inquires, taking her hand with his pale one. “I missed you.” she says, gently pulling him into a hug. She feels him chuckle against her body and his hands circling the small of her back. “I missed you too.”

She smiles and pulls her head away to look at him, before reaching out her hands to stroke his dark hair. He smiles at her and pulls her closer, into his lap. Aware of her chance, she subtly grinds onto him as she leans in for a kiss. He pulls her face towards his and kisses her, firm but gentle. She sighs into his mouth, and he slips his tongue in to kiss her deeper. She nibbles at his bottom lip, and he lets out a soft whimper.

She slightly tugs on his hair as his hands snake up her baby tee and feel her dips and curves. She pulls away, and dips her head down to suck and bite a trail from his ear to his neck, eliciting small whimpers from him that make her even needier.

Johnnie fidgets with the bottom rim of her pink tee. “This okay?” He asks consensually, and she nods before he lifts it up over her, revealing a hot pink lace bra. He gently sets her down on her back, still on the black mini couch, before kissing and nipping at her neck and chest. He reaches for her back and unclasps her bra, letting it fall to the floor and drinking up the sight of her beautiful bare body. He bends down to kiss her nose. “You look so pretty, baby.” She smiles shyly, a pink tinge on her face.

He laps and sucks at her cold nipples, drawing out moans and sighs from her swollen lips, before kissing down her stomach to her miniskirt. “You don’t even know what these fuckers do to me,” he mutters, unzipping her skirt and pulling it down to find her soaked hot pink thong. “Oh, baby, all this for me? You must’ve missed me.”

His hot breath on her core makes her squirm as she breathes, “Every single day.” He smirks, pulling the rosy panties down to see her needy cunt. He presses a few soft kisses on her lips, before gently spreading them open and licking thick stripes over her clit. “My gorgeous girl,” he mumbles in between eating her out, feeling her legs tremble in his arms. “Missed you so fucking much.”

She moans out, as he continues his ministrations on her pearl before unexpectedly slipping his tongue into her. She instinctively gasps, finding a fistful of his hair and tugging on it, which makes him moan softly. The vibrations of his voice on her core sends her closer to the edge, until he takes his tongue out of her and comes up to kiss her feverish face again. She whines softly, close to tears from how happy and stimulated she was. It felt like he was loving her in all the right places, but the heat was overpowering and she was getting desperate. “Johnnie, please.”

He kisses the apple of her warm cheek, not feeling the need to tease her or make her wait any longer, and makes his way back down to her pussy to insert his middle and ring finger into her, gently so he doesn’t hurt her. He looks up at her for approval to continue, and she nods, face red hot. He instantly begins to curl his long fingers inside of her as she cries out his name. Squelching sounds mix with her pretty moans and fill up the room.

“That’s my pretty girl.” he praises, kissing her lower stomach before going back to suckle on her clit, overstimulating her and making her incapable of doing anything except moaning and mewling his name. “Doing so good for me,”

He uses his other hand to lift her hips up slightly, which makes his fingers hit a new angle that makes her moan louder. “M’ close, Johnnie,” she manages to say. “I know, baby, you’re almost there.” he coos, using his other hand to press into her stomach, making her scream out.

He sucks sloppily on her clit a final time and she almost immediately hits her much needed climax, creaming all over his hand as he rubs her thigh and works her through her high.

She shivers as he removes his fingers and litters kisses all over her stomach and inner thighs. She regains her steady breath, and he pulls her up and back into his lap, kissing and nibbling on her earlobe as he murmurs sweet nothings into her skin. “M’ gonna run you a bath, baby, wait right here.” he says, gently setting her back down on the couch.

As he’s about to make his way to the connected bathroom, a hard knock sounds on the door, followed by Jake’s voice rambling, “Holy fuck, you guys need soundproof fucking walls, I was about to give you guys your takeout and then I hear you guys fucking..”

Her and Johnnie begin to laugh as his exasperated voice trails off to his room. “Shit, I completely forgot about dinner.”

“It’s okay, I’ll bring you some after your bath.”

“Thanks, Johnnie.”

#johnnie guilbert smut #johnnie guilbert #jake and johnnie #jake webber #emo boy #emo bf #2000s emo #emo #smut

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hitomisuzuya · 8 months

Text

Part 3 of ? Gamer! Scaramouche x fem!reader. Smut. Cunilligus. Pussy drunk Scara. Some humor. Childe is in this to.

As promised. Everyone, I am sorry about my mini freak out. You all have been so wonderful and supportive. I feel a lot better, and will respond to comments when I finish typing this.

It had taken a lot of coaxing, and a lot of bribing with sweet purrs and even sweeter sweets, but you finally relented to Scaramouche. It was you in the driver's seat tonight, live streaming playing Five Nights at Freddy's instead of him.

You gave polite thank yous to the ones watching when they saw certain things on the cameras, and navigated your way through the first 2 nights without much incident.

Without much incident that anyone knew of anyways. Because what everyone didn't know is that Scaramouche was underneath his computer desk, completely hidden from view with his tongue lapping at your cunt.

His eyes were intently focused on your face, his eyes narrowed into a glare of concentration. No matter how hard he'd fucked you the last time, you just didn't mess up no matter what.

As hot as it was, it also frustrated him. You usually liked watching, and he could show off for you. Yet, whenever you yourself played, you found some way to do better than he did.

It was quite remarkable actually. And it made him feel proud, honestly. Scaramouche was always an interesting mix of emotions. An absolute powder keg.

He brushed his fingers teasingly on your inner thighs. It was getting harder and harder for you to hold back any noises of pleasure. He swirled his tongue around your clit, smirking when you had to clamp a hand over your mouth, trying to play it off as fright because it was a horror game.

Your cheeks were starting to flush. Scaramouche swept his tongue inside of you, his eyes rolling into the back of his head from how good you tasted. He muffled a groan into your cunt, his breath shaky as it vibrated over your clit.

You covered up your moan with a cough behind your hand. The hand that had been in your lap found the back of his head, pressing his mouth into your cunt, fidgeting as you tried to roll your hips up into his mouth without seeming out of the ordinary.

He held your cunt against his mouth, latching his lips around your clit. The tip of his tongue worked ruthlessly over the throbbing bud as he sucked. Your thighs trembled in pleasure. "H-Holy fuck," You suddenly stammered, closing your thighs against the sides of his head.

Someone must've said something about the game, Scaramouche heard you press a key, enjoying your slightly delayed reaction when he swept his tongue inside of you.

"Th-thank you, Childe. I see Foxy now," Scaramouche rolled his eyes, prodding the tip of his tongue against your clit, snickering into your cunt when you squeaked in pleasure. Of course Childe would be watching, that ginger shithead seemed awfully comfortable being so chatty with you.

Night 3 stretched into Night 5

Scaramouche could feel from the way your walls were clamping consistently around his tongue that you were close to cumming. This boy was a master of building up toe curling slow orgasms.

Now he was wishing your mic was muted, because it was getting harder for him to hold back his moans. You tasted fucking incredible. He swirled and lapped his tongue between your walls, gliding his tongue back up to kitten lick your clit.

Your fingernails dug into his scalp, your eyes darting around on the screen, struggling to hold back tears of pleasure welling into your eyes. Your excuses for why you were suddenly acting out of ordinary were sounding dumber and dumber. Scaramouche appreciated how fast you came up with them though.

His favorite was you thought you had a fever. He actually snorted when he heard that one. Yeah, a fever of his warm spit and tongue between your legs.

You grit your teeth. You didn't see Freddy in usual place anymore. This was the critical part of the game. One you just couldn't do right now. Scaramouche was being absolutely ruthless with his tongue.

"I-I'm sorry, everyone. I need to step.." You took a breath, feeling Scaramouche tap your hips impatiently. You hadn't messed up, but this outcome was also desirable. "..away from the stream for a few moments," Childe having to see you lose your composure because you needed him to cum so badly made you taste even sweeter somehow. (Impossible)

You paused the stream, and the game. Muting his mic and turning the camera off, you tossed his headset onto his desk. "Ah God, I can't do it anymore. Make me cum Scara, please!" You pleaded, rolling your hips needily into his mouth.

"That's my good slut," Scaramouche groaned in bliss, his cock throbbing and straining hard in his jeans. "Needing to stop the stream to beg me to cum, what a desperate whore," You cried out loudly, your clit throbbing as his tongue ruthlessly lapped at it.

It took a few firm sucks to your clit before you squirted onto his tongue. He soaked in every last shameless moan. It was intoxicating to him to taste you while he watched you come undone.

Twitching, you collapsed back into his chair, panting while he lapped up your release. When he was satisfied, Scaramouche pushed his computer chair back and slid out from underneath the table.

He curled his fingers underneath your chin, capturing your lips in a heated, passionate kiss as he turned the webcam back on. Feast your eyes on that, Childe! You even moaned loudly into his mouth when he unmuted the mic.

Scaramouche had waited on purpose to wipe his mouth after he pulled away. He looked right at the camera and said, "Sorry everyone, I'll be cumming inside of her now. I dunno if she will be able to make it back for the rest of the stream."

He cut the stream off entirely right in the middle of Childe asking if he could watch.

#genshin impact #genshin smut #fem!reader #genshin imagines #modern au #scaramouche #scaramouche smut #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x reader

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sailorholly · 10 months

Text

Strictly Business Pt 4

Summary: Spencer wants to gain sexual experience before asking his out his dream date. You just want a way to release stress. What could go wrong?

Pairing: Spencer Reid x F. BAU Reader

Warnings: Smut. Minors DNI. 18+ ONLY. Use of a vibrator.

W/C: 1.2K

Strictly Business Masterlist

The next morning, Spencer came to your room. He wanted to make sure you would be able to ride together to the police station. He really was trying to make up for his behavior.

After three more days, the team finally closed the case. You couldn’t wait to be back home. Hotch had given everyone two days off. You planned to sleep for most of the first one. Those plans were scrapped when Spencer called, excitedly asking if he could come over.

When he arrived fifteen minutes later, he brought lunch and a black shopping bag. You ate the pizza together, watching an old Disney movie. Your curiosity finally got the better of you, so you asked what was in the bag.

He smiles, a faint blush rising on his cheeks. “I was going for a walk this morning when I saw this shop. I got some stuff for you, but we don’t have to use it if you don’t want to.” His words run together. He’s speaking so fast it takes you a few seconds to understand what he said. You reach for the bag. “I’m sure I will love whatever it is.”

He hands it to you, eagerly waiting for you to see what’s inside. The first item you pull out is a lingerie set. It’s a lilac bustier with mesh cups, small flowers embroidered on the top with matching panties.

You hold it up to admire it. “You want me to wear this for you?” You ask rubbing the silky fabric between your fingers. He swallows, scrunching up his nose in that adorable way you love. “I saw it in the window when I walked by. I made it all the way home before I had to go back for it. I kept imagining you wearing it. But if you don’t like it..”

“It’s perfect! I love it! I can’t wait to try it on for you.” He visibly relaxes now that he knows you approve. “There’s one more gift in there.” He tells you pointing one long, slender finger toward the bag on your lap. You pick it up, reaching in to grab the last item.

You pull out a small, sleek box. You lift the tape on the side, carefully sliding out the contents inside. Your mouth opens in surprise when a blue, mini wand comes out of the box. “You got me a vibrator?” You ask, shocked that he would purchase it. “Do you want me to use this while you watch?” You raise your eyebrows as he fidgets with his hands.

“Actually,” he clears his throat when his voice raises a few octaves. “I was hoping I could use it on you.” You’re not sure you want the old Spencer back. The one that you don’t know what he sounds like when he comes down your throat. The one who who ate you like a starving man. This Spencer is dangerously sexy. You don’t know how you could ever go back.

Once you both ate and the movie was over, Spencer moved closer to you on the sofa. It wasn’t long before his lips descended on yours. His hands slid under your baggy t-shirt, cupping your breasts. He rolls your nipples between his fingers, tugging gently. You lay against the cushions. Spencer climbs on top of you. You giggle when he sticks his head under the hem of your shirt.

He disappears under the large fabric. You feel his wet tongue slide up your stomach. His hot breath on your chest makes you squirm. His lips close around a pebbled nipple. Your hands cling to his head completely covered by your shirt.

He chuckles, his laughter vibrating against you. You moan wantonly. He kisses his way back down, large hands rest on the sides of your panties. He slides them down your legs, placing them on your coffee table. He reaches into the floor, picking up the vibrator.

Spencer presses the middle button and it comes alive with a low hum. Your eyes land on the wand, it looks even smaller in Spencer’s giant hands. The way his fingers wrap around it makes you imagine how it would feel to have those long digits curled inside you.

You weren’t ashamed to admit, you’d thought about it more than once, while watching him read. One slender finger sliding down each page as he absorbed the information. You would never understand how such a mundane task could make you clench around nothing, while at work no less.

He presses the head of the wand to your clit. It’s on the lowest setting. It feels nice, but it’s not enough to get you there. You rest a hand on the back of Spencer’s neck, twisting a curl between your fingers. He locks eyes with you. “More. I need more.”

He pushes the top button twice. You twitch underneath him, moaning his name. “Does that feel good, baby?” he asks. His dark eyes shining with lust as he looks down at you. “It’s so AHH!” You cry out, digging your nails into his soft skin.

He removes the vibe from you. You whine at the loss of contact. He spreads your legs wider, looking at your exposed center. Spencer swipes his finger down your seam collecting some of the slick gathered there. He pops his finger between his lips, sucking your arousal off it.

“Sorry, I just needed a little taste.” He states matter of factly. Before you can reply he turns the vibe up two more notches to it’s highest setting. He glides it through your folds, up to your clit. The little machine pulses against you.

You clutch at Spencer like you’re drowning and he’s your salvation. The vibrations roll over you in waves causing you to squirm. He places his free hand on your hip, holding you still. He moves the wand over just a tiny bit. The new position makes all the difference. “Spencer!” You cry out. “That’s it, come for me.” He encourages you, as if you have a choice in the matter.

You come apart underneath him. He lets you ride it out, keeping the wand pressed to you. When you’re finished, he goes to the bathroom, coming back with a warm cloth to clean you up. His lips caress yours for just a moment before he pulls away. “That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. I love watching you come.” He confesses. He sits down beside you and you lay your head in his lap.

“Do you think it will be like that with Chloe?” You hate that he brings her up. It’s like he dumped a bucket of cold water over your head. Way to ruin the mood, Spence. “Umm, I’m sure it will be.” You put on your biggest, fakest smile.

“I talked to her this morning.” “Oh?” You ask, even though you could care less. “We picked a day for our first date. It’s in three weeks, if we aren’t out of town for a case. I guess that’s when we will end this.”

You know that this is all for his benefit. That it’s practice. No strings, no emotions. You’re just helping your friend. So why do you feel so bitter and jealous?

Both of your phones receive a notification. The same text from Penelope lit up on both screens: Avengers Assemble. He groans before standing up, complaining that he has to go to his apartment before he goes into work. But you’ve never been so relieved to get called in on your day off.

Part Five

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gyutarling · 5 months

Text

INFINITE

late night adventures with beomgyu...

♯ — beomgyu x gn!reader ⋆ fluff ⋆ wc 1.7k

warnings! — cursing, mentions of burning things, mentions of ghosts and death, catcher in the rye slander (not srs if u like that book thats cool!), a little pretentious, jokes about dating a senior citizen, lowercase intended, not proofread

note — went ballistic after gyu made an insta..... save me manic pixie dream boy..... save me....

“gyu, where are we even going?” you enquired. frankly, you were still a little grumpy from being woken up at 3 in the morning, with beomgyu outside your window holding your shoes, wordlessly telling you to follow him.

when no reply came after several pauses, you glanced over next to you, only to find him completely zoned out. you were about to open your mouth to snap at him, patience spreading thin from the sleepiness, but then he smiled.

“the library, we’re sneaking in.” he turned his eyes back to the road ahead after making eye contact with you, mischief still heavy on his cheeks.

what he said took you a few seconds longer to process. “oh, okay— wait. what?!” in your befuddled state, you stopped in your tracks, “what do you mean by ‘sneaking in’? why the library?” honestly, you were more surprised that you didn't have more questions, but then again, this is beomgyu, you wouldn't put something like this past him.

beomgyu casually fixed his bangs, “sneaking in as in, we’re gonna not-so-legally enter the library like, right now.” he stopped in front of said building, you didn’t even notice you had been walking for so long. “and the library because there's a book i wanna burn.”

you almost shouted out a question, if not for beomgyu placing his hand over your mouth when he saw you staring at him with wide eyes. “hush! we might get caught!” his hand dropped after he felt your tongue touching his palm, “gross! anyway, do you have a paperclip i can borrow? kinda need to pick this lock before we do the actual ‘sneaking in’ part.” he held out his hand as he inspected the lock.

“what the fuck? are you insane?!” you opted for whisper shouting instead. you take it back, just when you thought he couldn't get any crazier, he proves you wrong with his stupidly perfect smile that seems to grow wider with each late night adventure. “first of all, why did i have to come with? could you not have done this yourself? i don’t wanna get in trouble again.” you said with a roll of your eyes.

“this is a two-person operation! besides, it’s more fun this way. so sorry in advance if i do get us into trouble,” beomgyu whispered back, and by the dimple peeking out from his smirk, you can tell he didn’t mean his apology.

you let out a relenting sigh and handed him a paperclip, “okay, but second of all, what book got you so enraged that you just had to sneak into the town library at such an ungodly hour just to steal and burn it?”

“it’s not like it enraged me, i mean, books are supposed to make you feel intense things, so i would have liked it if it did enrage me,” beomgyu mindlessly spoke while fidgeting with the paperclip, “it’s ‘the catcher in the rye’, borrowed and finished it recently, and i don’t know, the main character is just such a whiny ass bitch boy. he’s got this whole self-loathing, self-aware hypocrite persona going on, and throughout the book he pretty much just talks and drinks and pities himself. i think the author tried to make him too relatable, to the point that he became unrealistic, if that makes sense,” he rambled on, “the only part i liked was near the end, the part with his sister was actually pretty well-written.”

“so you are enraged,” you couldn’t help but giggle at his mini rant, “you’re cute when you ramble, by the way.”

“hm, i’d say the word would be ‘unimpressed’, i just don’t like it.” he pretended to inspect the lock closer, yet still failing miserably at hiding his reddening cheeks. a few minutes after poking and moving the paperclip around inside the keyhole, you heard a click, and seconds later, you two were inside the pitch dark library. “alright, we’re in. the rest should be fairly easy.”

“hold on, one more question,” you realised as you took out your phone for the flashlight, “why didn’t you just do this when you still had the book? why did you have to return it and then come back?” you were too far into the theft and arson two-person operation to be angry at beomgyu for dragging you into it at this point. you were happy to be hanging out with him anyway.

“hey, this might make me a criminal, but i’m not a heathen. i return my shit, never had an overdue book in my entire life,” beomgyu bragged, “mrs. librarian is basically my best friend.”

“and yet you don’t know her name?” you laughed at his antics.

“i believe in the magic of mystery,” he said in an exaggerated fancy accent, “besides, names and such formalities are for first dates, which i might score one soon, heard her husband’s been out a lot.”

“gross, dude! she’s like 78!” you couldn’t help but to playfully shove him.

“and yet she remains such a radiant beauty, her prune-like visuals never fail to amaze me!” beomgyu emphasised even more, and you both couldn’t help but let out loud laughs you weren’t supposed to.

“how romantic, even shakespeare wouldn’t have been able to be as eloquent as you. save it for her, though, i don’t wanna hear about how you’re into an old, saggy woman who’s pushing 80.”

as the laughter died down, you two decided to split up to look for the object of beomgyu’s hatred. you were a little unsettled by the dark, this was a library after all, a very fitting place for a victorian ghost to haunt.

just when you were about to let out a breathy laugh at your own absurd thoughts, you heard a creaking noise. you quickly turned off your phone’s flashlight, this was it, you always knew beomgyu would lead to your downfall by baiting you to some supernatural entity. he probably made a deal with the devil and offered up your soul. no, scratch that, beomgyu is the devil himself—

“boo!” you let out a squeak and fell backwards, startled as you saw beomgyu with his flashlight shining from below his face. you breathed heavily, trying to catch up with the shock as he let out silent cackles. beomgyu might be even more evil than the devil.

“oh man, you should’ve seen your face!” he spitted out between laughter, but that abruptly stopped when you two heard the jingle of keys. you looked at beomgyu, panic still in your eyes, but for a different reason this time. you were still on the ground when he helped you up and dragged you to a corner, sandwiched between two bookshelves as he covered your mouth.

you didn’t know if you were dizzy from being out of breath, or the distance (or the lack thereof) between you and beomgyu. one hand covering your mouth, one hand on your waist to keep you steady, his equally fast breaths on your cheek. if you weren’t insane enough already, he gave you a reassuring squeeze, and leaned his forehead on yours from exhaustion. you wanted to stay like this forever.

of course, your dazed moment was interrupted by the lights of the library turning on, and then came the sound of approaching footsteps. your anxiety returned, and beomgyu glanced to the side just to quickly turn back.

“change of plans. fuck the book, we’re booking it.” he smiled. honestly, how can he have time for word play in such a predicament?

“what—” at that, he grabbed your hand and bolted out from between the shelves. you could hear the shouting of someone, presumably the security guard, but the buzzing adrenaline was louder. beomgyu hurriedly bursted through the doors that you both came in from, with your hands still connected, then down the streets. your legs burned, but at that point, you two were laughing like crazy. in the small, empty neighbourhood, well into the night, you swore you could take on anything if you had beomgyu by your side.

slowing down, he continued to hold onto your hand as you came to a stop. inhaling and exhaling rapidly, the rush died down and you noticed the delicate snowflakes that nipped at your skin. beomgyu seemed to notice as well, he stood up straight and stared upwards, mesmerised by the fluttering whiteness.

“it’s the first snow,” he mumbled, “you know, they say that seeing the first snow together with someone means you’ll be with them forever, and any wishes you make will come true.” he looked back at you, and you found yourself admiring his twinkling eyes.

“that’s pretty,” you smiled at him, “did you wish for anything?”

“yeah, i wished that you were mrs. librarian instead— hey, ow! i’m kidding!” beomgyu dramatically rubbed his arm after you very lightly and playfully punched him.

“moment ruined.” you said, unimpressed as beomgyu giggled.

a comfortable silence fell over the two of you as you continued watching the snow, it’s light enough to not be too cold, but cold enough for beomgyu to pull you closer to him, close enough for the moment to feel real.

“sorry you didn’t get to take out your burning anger on the book.” you slightly chuckled as you remembered the events of the night.

“it’s alright, didn’t matter too much to me,” he shrugged, “i didn’t even hate the book that much, just wanted an excuse to drag you out with me.”

you looked at him, stupefied, “so you couldn’t just ask me to hang out during the day like a normal person? what if that security guard was secretly a victorian ghost protecting the library? and what if said ghost happened to die from a thief who burned their house down?” you started exaggerating to show that you weren’t actually mad at him.

beomgyu jokingly scoffed at your silly rambling, “normal is boring, and from your whole spiel just now, you’re clearly not normal either, weirdo.” at that, you both smiled at each other.

beomgyu is truly beautiful, but especially when he smiles. the way his nose scrunches, pinkish from the cold, eyes turning into crescents with tiny sparkles in them. the way his lips curl up, matching the wispy ends of his soft-looking hair, framing his face perfectly. his smile is truly perfect.

in that moment, all you could feel was beomgyu and the world, both infinitely yours.

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#beomgyu x reader #txt fluff #txt x reader #beomgyu fluff #txt scenarios #txt imagines #beomgyu imagines #beomgyu scenarios

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f0point5 · 5 months

Text

And I feel perfectly fine

Companion piece to the Max Verstappen x bestfriend!reader social media au

✨Set after Y/N’s first date with Elliot✨

A/N: I’m ALIVE! I took a long break because I had my dad’s wedding and then Christmas and also because I have BIG anxiety about posting these writing pieces lol so every time I thought about posting I was like no these suck. But I really miss this blog and the smau so…we move. I hope you guys enjoy these. If you don’t…mind ya business and pretend they never happened haha, I really hope they don’t ruin the smau for anyone! Anyway…enjoy…I hope

You take your shoes off in the taxi and step straight out onto the granite paving outside the building, your Mach&Mach heels in hand. It’s a nice evening, you think to yourself as you enjoy the warm breeze and the faint scent of sea air. I had a nice evening, you think as an afterthought.

The concierge greets you with a smile, asking how your night was, and you stumble over the answer. He doesn’t notice and doesn’t care, bidding you a perfunctory goodnight as you pad through the lobby to the lifts. You miss the lifts from the old building, with the scratched and worn wood panelling. These are all sleek and cold and the mirrors are some treated glass that makes everything look glum. It’s the mirror, you tell yourself when you catch sight of your own reflection as the lift lurches up towards the penthouse.

You fidget on your way up, thinking what you’ll tell him about your evening when he asks, because you know he will. Just like you know you’ll have to avoid his running shoes right by the door. Just like you know he’ll be awake, on the sim or doing some last minute packing. You know either way he’ll be looking for his old blue and white fleece. You know you’ll lie and say you don’t know where it is and you know he’ll believe you.

It’s the first time all night you’ve felt even a little nervous, and it’s a strangely addicting nausea.

The first thing that happens when you set foot inside the dimly lit hallway is that you step on a running shoe. You stumble forward and the shoe slips out from under you, flying into a cat, you suppose, judging by the cartoonish meow that emirates from somewhere behind you.

“Enfant désordonné,” you mutter as you lad down the hallway towards the living room, dropping your own shoes as you go. “C'est comme vivre avec un enfant en bas âge.”

“Hello,” he calls to you, and you don’t mind that he doesn’t even look up from the sim. You prefer it, even. It makes the fact that you were out without him seem more normal, though it isn’t. You can’t remember the last time you were out without him when he was home.

You wander over to the hulking set up, trying to figure out what track he’s driving. Nordschleife, you realise when he flies through the banked corner. You glance down at him, lit up in blue by the light of the screen, his normally soft features contorted into the hard lines of concentration, eyes shuttered and focused. Putting a hand on his head, you gently carding your fingers through his hair just once, and he loses the rear for a second, correcting himself with a click of his tongue. He says something rude in Dutch under his breath and you laugh at him, reaching down to grab a drink from his mini fridge before heading over to the couch and turning on the TV.

For a while it’s like any other evening.

Eventually you see the screens go black in the corner of your eye and he frog leaps out of his sim rig before heaving over to sit beside you.

“What are we watching?” Max asks, cracking his knuckles as he kicks his feet up.

“The decay of humanity,” you answer with a snort. “Love Island Australia,”

He laughs, his UV glasses sliding down his nose a little. Your eyes linger on him as he fixes them. You’ve teased him about them relentlessly, and you’d never admit it, but you like them.

Wordlessly, you both shift so that he’s lying on the corner of the couch and you’re curled up next to him, his cheek resting against the crown of your head so that you can feel when he finally speaks.

“How was dinner?” He asks during the advert break, the words mumbled into your hair.

“Good. I had lobster Thermidor,” you tell him, getting only a hum in response. “I saw a girl from school at the restaurant, too. I hated her at school, she was so…she used a crocodile birkin to carry her PE clothes,”

This means nothing to him, but you feel his cheek lift in a smile as he hums just to prove he’s listening.

You stay quiet for a while, muscles unwinding to the best of Max’s steady breathing. He wants to ask, the question is lingering unsaid in the small space between your bodies. You know because last time it was you that had questions. You wonder if he feels now like you did then - unsettled and selfish, scared to ask the question because you didn’t know what you wanted the answer to be.

There’s a part of you that wants to tell him how nice it was to discuss Proust and Dostoyevsky, and how nice it was to be able to go to a fish restaurant, how no one filmed you or asked for your picture. There’s a part of you that wants to tell him all the painful truths to make up for the fact that you hated that he wasn’t there, and that somehow that feels like his fault. But you don’t. Because even though you know a petty vindictive nature all but colours your blood, you try to be kinder with Max.

“He’s nice,” you say, telling yourself you’re too tired to say more even though deep down you’re not sure there’s more to say.

“Good.”

“He knows about wine pairings, and art,” you say with soft smile that he can’t see, “and he can actually share a dessert with me all year round without worrying about the calories,”

“Ah, well, you have to marry him then,” Max says sardonically, his shoulder shifting underneath you like a nudge. “Where’s the ring? It better be big,”

He reaches for your left hand, thumb sliding along your ringer as he pretends to inspect it. You jostle him with a scoff, trying to pull away but he squeezes gently, his fingers tangling with yours for a few seconds before he lets go.

The adverts end and the show comes back on. Within seconds, you feel your body begin to fall into a sleepy oblivion. Yeah, you think to yourself, this is a nice evening.

Tag list

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#max verstappen #f1 #formula 1 #max verstappen x reader #f1 fanfiction #f1 x reader #max verstappen fanfiction #max verstappen x you #f1 imagine #f1 social media au

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kelin-is-writing · 1 year

Text

one thing about dabi is that he’s gonna totally implode the moment his foot sets into your room and he sees you scan yourself at the mirror, front and back, while wearing an high waisted pleated mini skirt that left your beautiful legs bare under his wide cerulean eyes.

the way that skirt was hugging perfectly your waist and flaunted your body when you twirled made his heart flutter, he used it for fun but you were truly a living doll. how are you so damn gorgeous?

his gaze sharpened turning darker in a split second. he walked in for good, hand in the pockets of his jeans, and got closer to your silhouette; finally noticing the villain’s presence you turn to him in panic, face red as a tomato, while trying to pull down a little the skirt from the hem to no avail as it still was too short.

when you notice his presence you blush right away, embarrassed because of the show you had put on in front of him, he probably thinks you look like a child playing with her mother’s clothes. you wish the earth under your feets would swallow you whole.

when the villain gets closer you start sweating and fidgeting while timidly apologising for the scene he had to assist a few seconds ago. the young man asks why is that, then when you explain him that it’s because you look weird and such a style doesn’t suit you he’s genuinely confused, glancing at you with a lifted eyebrow as his eyes look up and down your entire figure attentively not registering a single thing of what you’re saying to justify what he had saw few minutes ago by the door, too busy eating you whole with his stare, the tip of his tongue licking his canine:

“ohh baby, you’re such a liar...”

at that comment dabi gave with low husky voice you looked up at your boyfriend quizzically, not understanding what he meant by that.

few moments later he had you in front of the mirror again, but this time with a lifted leg that was hooked over his forearm, skirt wrinkled up, panties hanging at your ankle and the raven-haired boy’s dick pounding hard inside your pussy as he chants praises into your ear while squishing your cheeks with his free hand and forcing you to look at you two in the mirror, your gummy walls clenching around him so deliciously at every word and thrust, tearing a guttural groan out from the very back of his throat.

when dabi releases hot white ropes long your walls, he pulls out choking out a brief moan while resting his hands onto your waist, tightening the grip so you don’t fall to the ground and suddenly you’re bend against the mirror nearly kissing your own reflection as he pulls your hips back, his dick sneaking between your legs to press into your pussy’s folds making you moan.

dabi’s face moves to set beside yours, his nose pressed against your cheek as he stares at you with lust and hunger through the mirror, a wolfish smirk on his lips that made your belly churn.

“i’ll show you how beautiful you are, since you can’t see it on your own.”

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jksprincess10 · 1 year

Text

The neighbor’s daughter 3.Hello again

A/N: I wanted to make this part more story-driven, but it’s still smutty. I want to make more chapters, but it’ll be a short series.

Summary: You bring your new lover to a party.

CW: talks of cheating, anxiety, bj, rough sex, unprotected sex, age gap, alcohol, weed consumption, fluff city.

I suggest to read the other parts before:

Part 1

Part 2

In some ways, everything was easier now that your dad knew about your casual relationship with Joel. What made it harder was… you didn’t have “the talk” with your lover. You didn’t want to put a label on your relationship, knowing that you would leave for New York at the end of the summer. You didn’t want to break Joel’s heart. And you didn’t want Sarah to get attached to you, that’s why you were planning on never telling her. But Sarah was a smart girl, she knew something was going on.

You were both getting attached. It was dangerous.

Your phone buzzed with a text from Sam, pulling you away from your thoughts.

Party on sat at my place. U down?

Like old times? Sure.

U can bring your sweet neighbor 😉

You didn’t know if that type of crowd was Joel’s thing. He was… older and more responsible after all. He was more of the quiet type, spending a night sipping on beers with your dad rather than partying with young adults.

Still, you asked.

Party at Sam’s on Saturday. You’re invited as my +1. Do you want to come?

Do you want me to come, hun?

Yes. But only if you want.

I’m in. I’ll pick you up and we’ll go together.

Joel hadn’t been to a party in what… 10 years? He was nervous, even though you spent hours reassuring him. He wanted to make you happy, and your happiness was more important than his nervousness.

He left Sarah at her uncle’s house before he parked his truck in front of your house. When you got out after hugging your dad, you were wearing a cropped blouse and a matching mini skirt, that didn’t leave much to the imagination. Joel looked at you, mouth wide open. He calmed down to wave at your dad, who was looking at you through the window.

“Knowing this was a fashion parade, I should’ve dressed better.” He said as you took place in the passenger seat, after letting out a whistle.

You rolled your eyes at him with a smile.

“You’re perfect.”

Joel, on the other hand, was wearing a simple olive-green V-neck shirt, a leather coat over it and tight dark jeans. His curls were slicked back, giving his hair a more put-together look. You were so used to seeing him in his work clothes, covered in wood dust, that even this was the biggest change for you.

While he was driving, he put his hand on your thigh. You could feel his fingers tapping your skin nervously. You put your hand on his to stop him from fidgeting.

“Joel, are you okay?”

“Yeah, just nervous as fuck.”

“Why? You’ve met Sam, kind of.”

“Yeah, it’s just not my kind of crowd, you know? What if they find it weird that you’re bringing an ol’ dad with you?” He asked as he parked in Sam’s street. He stopped the car and turned to look at you.

“First of all, you look 30 tops, tonight. Second of all, I don’t care what they think.”

Three words were burning your tongue, but instead, you added:

“I really like you, Joel. Don’t worry.”

He nodded with a smile, before leaning in to press a kiss on your lips.

“I really like you too.”

When you both got in Sam’s backyard, the party was already well started. Popular music was blasting on the stereo, drunken young adults were dancing. You saw a lot of familiar faces from high school, people you did theater with before going to New York.

Sam waved at you, and you two went towards him. You gave him a big hug.

“So happy to see you.” He acknowledged Joel’s presence with a nod. “There’s only… one problem.”

You frowned. “What?”

“Chad is here.”

“What the fuck? He ain’t even friends with you.”

Joel placed his hand on the small of your back.

“Turns out Darcy, who did theater with us, is his new girlfriend. They worked together on some project in New York and he’s visiting.”

Was it the girl he cheated on you with? You didn’t know and didn’t care.

“It’ll be fine. There’re enough people here, I might not even see them.” You tried to reassure yourself.

Sam disappeared after, getting dragged away by the guy he was seeing.

“So, Chad? Your asshole ex?” Joel asked, concerned.

“Yeah.”

“Do you want to leave, hun?”

“No. I just want a drink, frankly.”

“I got’chu.” He laughed and dragged you to the nearest icebox.

You took a Smirnoff, and he took a generic beer, when you heard a song from Metric that you liked.

Hello again, friend of a friend, I knew you when

Our common goal was waiting for the world to end

Now that the truth is just a rule that you can bend

You crack the whip, shape-shift and trick the past again

You dragged Joel with you as he protested, but you gave him no choice but to dance with you. He managed to keep his nervousness away as you were dancing ridiculously with him.

I'll send you my love on a wire

Lift you up, every time, everyone, ooh, pulls away, ooh

From you

You looked so pretty like this, hair moving with your head bangs, arms in the air, and screaming the lyrics. From the corner of your eye, you saw Chad, but you ignored him, your eyes coming back to Joel’s face, to stay grounded.

The song changed for a Doja Cat one, that was Joel’s cue to stop. He had his hands on his knees, panting.

“Damn, we’ll have to dance more often. You’re out of shape.” You laughed.

“Shut up. I’ll go get us more drinks.”

You stole a kiss from him, before you watched him leave. Chad took this opportunity to approach you. You gave him a polite smile. He presented Darcy. She was objectively a pretty girl, long blonde hair, green eyes, and all in curves. Too pretty for a pathetic guy like Chad.

“Respectfully, I don’t really wanna talk to you two right now. Wasn’t expecting you to be here and it’s ruining my vibe.” You snapped.

“Damn. Still not over me?” He asked with a stupid smile.

“Oh I am, I just feel like I don’t have to keep any kind of friendship with you. So kindly, fuck off.” You retorted with a forced smile.

Joel came back and gave you another bottle. When he saw in what kind of situation you were in, he threw his arm around your waist and pulled you close in a protective way, staring at Chad like an angry guard dog.

“Didn’t know your dad liked parties.” He said as he looked at Joel from head to toe.

Darcy tried to pull Chad away, but he gave her a slight slap on the hand. Asshole. She grumbled something and left him there.

“Joel’s not my dad. Turns out older men are more serious and don’t have a tendency to cheat on you. Crazy, right?” You argued sarcastically.

“I think you should be takin’ care of your own girlfriend, bud.” Joel added in a firm tone.

Chad scoffed and left.

“I just need a minute…” You said to Joel, before you went inside Sam’s house, disappearing in the closest bathroom.

Chad’s encounter didn’t destabilize you as much as Joel almost calling you his girlfriend. Minutes later, you heard a knock on the door, before Joel came in. This bathroom was tiny, just enough for you two to fit in it.

“Are you okay, hun?” He asked, brows furrowed. “We can leave.”

“I’m okay.” You sat on the counter to give him more space, legs dangling in front of you. “Are you? You look pissed as fuck.”

“Being called your dad wasn’t in tonight’s plans.”

“He was exaggerating, Joel.”

You hooked your legs around his waist to pull him closer, looking up at his face. Your hand caressed his scratchy beard slowly as you tried to make him smile. Your soft touch took some of his tension away and he relaxed his tight jaw.

“Did you… insinuate I was your girlfriend?” You finally asked what was on your mind.

“I guess I did. What should I call you?”

“Yours.” You shrugged as you responded.

“Mine?”

“Yes.”

He leaned in, his lips inviting you to a soft kiss. You tangled your arms around his neck to bring him closer, deepening the exchange as your tongue found his. When he left your lips, his mouth latched onto the sensitive skin of your neck, where he sucked a faint red bruise. You moaned softly, before pushing him away.

“Later.”

He pouted, looking at you with puppy eyes.

“I promise.” You added.

“It’s just… you in that mini skirt is totally doing it for me.”

You rolled your eyes at him.

“That’s the point.”

He left the bathroom after leaving a small kiss on your lips. You followed him back outside, where Sam checked in with you.

“You wanna smoke, babes?” Asked Sam as he gave you a tight hug.

You looked up at your lover, almost asking for permission. He shrugged.

“I’m the driver, so without me. Go ahead, hun.”

While you were sat in a circle smoking with a few friends, some drama unfolded. Darcy emptied her beer on Chad and they both left, yelling at each other.

“Good fucking riddance.” You laughed.

For the rest of the night, Joel stayed by your side, watching over you and making sure you drank plenty of water.

You were walking back to his truck, his arm locked tightly around your waist so you wouldn’t fall. He helped you climb to the passenger seat, where you pulled him in for a long kiss. You tasted like weed and cheap alcohol.

“You’re a mess, hun. Let’s get you home.” He pulled away and stroked your cheek affectionately.

You pouted.

“Want you.” You moaned. “You’re so hot.”

He laughed as he climbed in the driver seat, putting a protective hand on your thigh as he backed from the driveway.

Joel didn’t understand. You couldn’t wait. You undid your belt and he looked at you.

“Put your belt back on.”

You shook your head and creeped a hand to his side, feeling his bulge through his tight jeans. He breathed in heavily, looking annoyed.

“Keep your eyes on the road.”

With expert fingers, you undid his belt and freed his member from his pants, which was already hard from your past actions. You took the base in hand and took all of it in your mouth. Joel’s fingers were holding on the steering wheel for dear life, his knuckles turning white. He shot a few glances at you, but kept his eyes on the road. He grunted, between anger and arousal. You bobbed your head up and down in a fast pace, feeling the saltiness of his pre-cum on your tongue.

The ride to Joel’s house was a short one, but you did manage to tease him enough. When he was parked, he pulled you off him by your hair.

“Go inside.” He ordered.

You snorted, happy to see him so annoyed. He dressed himself and held you by the arm to pull you inside his house. Once the door was closed, Joel pushed you against it, attacking you with a hungry kiss. Then, he lifted you up and held you as he went up to his room.

“Pull up your skirt.”

You laid on the bed and you did, the fresh air of the room hitting on your wetness. He groaned as he saw that you weren’t wearing anything under the mini skirt. Two fingers crept up inside you without more prep. You were still clouded on weed; you could barely feel the pain.

While he kept fingering you, he pulled down his pants and his boxers, just enough to free his member. He was in a hurry, no time to take off all your clothes. He didn’t seem to care either about making you cum, he just wanted to release the tension. You couldn’t blame him and seeing him so desperate for you sufficed to arouse you.

When the last of his patience disappeared, he pulled your thighs, so you’d be on the edge of the bed as he was on his feet.

“M’gonna make you pay, hun. Want you to feel this tomorrow.”

He buried himself inside of you in one clean movement. You stretched beautifully around him, the rest of your body staying relaxed as you couldn’t even reach him. You were a mere spectator to his pleasure; he was using you.

His name left your lips weakly as he was thrusting deeply into you, keeping a rough space to speed his release. Like he finally remembered you were there, his fingers caressed your bundle of nerves to help you chase your high. When you did, you tightened around him, and he spilled his warm liquid inside of you.

Joel was half asleep, looking so peaceful like this, curled up against your back, but your anxiety wouldn’t leave you. The feeling had started when you had “the” talk in the bathroom, it had left for a bit, but it started to get heavy again.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?” He sleepily asked.

“You know… we don’t have to… I just don’t… I just don’t wanna break your heart.”

“What are you talking about?” He grumbled.

“Seriously. We don’t have to be a thing. You know I’m going back to New York at the start of the semester…”

“Oh, so that’s what’s going on.” He seemed more awake when you turned around to look at him, eyes glowing with tears. Joel wiped them away and kissed your forehead. “Let’s not make this complicated, hun. We’ll cross the bridge when we get there. You’ll always come back to me or I’ll get to you.”

“You have your own life here, with Sarah…”

“Then I’ll build you your own Broadway here if that makes it easier for us.”

You smiled through your tears and he hugged you tighter.

#Joel Miller #joel miller smut #joel miller x reader #db ! joel miller #dbf ! joel #dbf!joel #dbf!joel miller #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal smut #pedro pascal x you #joel miller x you

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simplygyuu · 1 year

Note

heyo ! idk if u take reqs or not but can i pls request beomgyu reaction when u fall asleep on another member fluff ? :D

Beomgyu's reaction to you falling asleep on another member

sorry for just getting to this now, but i finally have time to do requests!! also i dont know if this is exactly what youre looking for when asking for a reaction.. it turned into a mini drabble hehe but i hope you still enjoy it!!

genre : fluff and romance!

pairing : beomgyu x gender neutral!reader

warnings : none

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The last thing Beomgyu expected to see when walking into the living room after getting the popcorn for the 'annual bestie movie night' was you knocked out on Yeonjuns shoulder. Kai and Soobin were giggling over it and elbowing each other before pointing at Beomgyu as well.

"Hyung stole your date!" Soobin snorted as he covered his mouth to stay quiet, not wanting to wake you up with his laughter.

"Shut up!" Beomgyu retorted at a whisper, bringing his arm up into a fake punching motion. Taehyun chuckled a bit at the scene as he focused back onto picking something to watch.

Seriously, Beomgyu doesnt know how you fell asleep so quickly. Not even 30 minutes ago you were screaming over Mario Kart! But either way as your boyfriend he would not stand for you sleeping on Yeonjun.

"Hyung, why didnt you keep them awake until I got here. I was only gone for like 10 minutes!" He whined a bit, a glare holding no real malice directed towards Yeonjun as he sat down on your other side.

"Like you wouldn't have given me shit if I woke them up." Yeonjun replied with a playful roll of his eyes, slowly reaching over for some popcorn to keep from jostling you off his shoulder.

".....You make a fair point."

Yeonjun just let out an amused huff instead of laughing, used to Beomgyu's dramatics by now. Then with touch almost as light as a feather, Beomgyu cupped a hand carefully around the side of your head where it rested on Yeonjun. Very slowly, he gently moved your head until it was on his shoulder instead before sticking his tongue out at Yeonjun.

Once he made sure you were settled against his own shoulder, Beomgyu draped an arm over your shoulders. Absentmindedly he played with your shirt while the movie finally started to play, adverting his attention to the screen.

You awoke to the sound of crashing sounding from the TV in front of you, blearily blinking your eyes open as you tried to focus in on the sound. Half asleep all you really thought about was the warmth next to you, it was a bit cold. A small shiver wracked your body before you turned more to the right, snuggling closer into whoever was next to you.

The arm around your shoulders tightened a bit, just a quick squeeze before leaving its place. You could tell you were leaned up against your boyfriend, he had a very signature smell. As someone sensitive to scents it was easy to pinpoint the smell of his laundry detergent and the citrus scent of his cologne. After dating him for so long just the smell of his cologne was an easy way to calm you down and make you feel tired. Everything about Beomgyu radiated comfort.

To you, if Beomgyu was one word it would be comfort. Wether he was being loud and obnoxious or he was being quiet and reserved, he was always comforting. He was always observant of everything, every little thing you did he took note of. You fidgeted a bit too much with your sleeves? He would tap your arm before asking if you were uncomfortable, if you needed fresh air. A piece of clothing held your attention for an extra second too long? He'd make up some excuse to find time to go sneak off and get it for you. It was so, so comforting to know somebody was so in tune with you. Beomgyu was like a big hug after an emotionally draining day. You could always rely on him having your best interest in mind.

Before you could fall deeper into your sudden sappiness over your boyfriend, you felt a soft blanket get draped over your shoulders along with hearing a quiet, "Hyung, I was using that!" from Kai. You smiled a bit at the youngest boys words, feeling a bit bad but also knowing there were many more blankets in the room. Beomgyu probably took his to keep from moving you too much.

"Better?" Beomgyus deep voice then asked, barely above a whisper as the movie drowned out his voice to anyone else. It was nice knowing that only you two were sharing this conversation.

You hummed with a nod towards his question, pulling your legs up to your chest as you fully leaned up against him. Your eyes were still closed, but you felt the way Beomgyu gently shook with a silent chuckle. His hand then found its place around your waist as he rested his head on top of yours.

"You must be tired if you fell asleep on Yeonjun hyung.." Beomgyu spoke and you could almost hear the pout in his voice. "But I digress! Go ahead and go back to sleep, love. I'll carry you back to the bedroom once this is over."

Once again you just managed a soft nod, much too tired to do anything else. Your limbs felt heavy and warm, you were happy to fall right back asleep. The loud TV didn't bother you one bit.

You knew Beomgyu kept his promise of bringing you back to the bedroom the next morning when you woke up in your rightful place in his arms, curled up under the covers together. Good thing you had chosen to put on your pajamas before the movie night started.

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notes ! : aaaa this was fun to write :) im happy to take any requests!

perm. taglist ! : @squiishymeow @beomnioa @jwnghyuns @ddenoudepression @mywonie

#beomgyu #tommorow x together #txt #txt beomgyu #beomgyu x reader #choi beomgyu #kpop #beomgyu fluff #beomgyu x y/n #beomgyu fic #beomgyu ff #beomgyu fanfic #beomgyu reactions #simplygyuu

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siriusblack-the-third · 6 months

Note

ok, any headcanons on james that compliment the ones you've done for sirius?

i absolutely loved those and i'm really curious about james

HELL YEAH LETS GO

ADHD. This dude has to be moving, fidgeting, doing something, always. It tires him, and he sleeps very soundly for a full seven hours. Doesn't wake up even for earthquakes (Sirius once did a mini earthquake spell on the dorm room floor in the middle of the night as a prank. It did not wake him.)

Wakes up at an ungodly fucking hour. He doesn't own an alarm clock (it has no effect on him), but his internal clock is set to wake him up at exactly 4:30 in the morning for quidditch practice. He is done with jogging through the entire castle, half an hour of yoga, and an hour of quidditch before 7 A.M. rolls around. Sirius calls him "a demon from muggle hell" for it.

The only one who can keep up with Sirius' intelligence. He is scarily smart, but because most of his time is invested in quidditch and pranks, nobody realises just how smart he is until the results are handed out and he's right there next to Sirius on the top of the rankings. Both of them are always exchanging ranks 1 and 2 on overall performance. It annoys Snape and Lily to no end, because those two are always exchanging ranks 3 and 4 on the list.

The definition of Reckless. If Sirius hadn't stopped him, he would probably have turned the castle to rubble in less than five minutes. This was the exact reason why people (who were in the know) were surprised when Sirius was the one that sent Snape to Moony. They had all thought it would be James' fault.

A fucking bookworm. My dude reads literally everything from mystery to romance to encyclopaedias to research papers to fucking dictionaries of different languages. Even when he doesn't speak the language, the weirdo (affectionate and derogatory).

Indian. Specifically, from Pune city, Maharashtra.

About languages, he's learnt a lot of them. The order of learning of languages, starting from his native tongue, is thus: Marathi, Sanskrit, Hindi, English, Ancient Greek, Tamil, French and Latin. He learnt the first six at home, and French and Latin from Sirius. He's good with languages.

Photographic memory. The reason he never has to study, and also the fact that he understands everything he reads on the first try.

He and Sirius both have twelve OWLs and eight NEWTs. They have Outstandings in all of them.

My dude has the widest, largest doe eyes possible. The only people who can withstand them for more than two minutes are his parents and Sirius.

Bharatanatyam dancer. Has his Visharad certificate, and genuinely enjoys dancing. Gives at least three evenings per week for dance practice to keep up his muscle memory.

Doesn't actually hate Slytherins. Neither does Sirius. Both of them have several friends from the house of Serpents, they just hate the ones that actively use Dark Magic on muggleborns, and Snape and his gang are a part of that.

Lmao the sheer arrogance in him, oh my fucking Gods—

Doesn't give a shit about the rules set by other people (unless they're set by his parents), but has a set of rules for himself that he strictly follows. No one can tell what these rules are, but he has them and he follows them. At the top of that list, there is "never betray your loved ones". He followed that one until his death.

Nevertheless, he will break every single rule. Every. Single. Rule. For Sirius. For Sirius, he will do anything, from taking care of him when he's sick to burning the world for him.

The Hat would actually have put him in Slytherin, except he had no ambitions except to cause chaos at the tiny age of eleven years. Otherwise, he's almost a perfect fit for Slytherin— determined, strong willed, cunning enough to pull difficult pranks, resourceful (because how else you gon plan epic pranks?)

He went to Gryffindor for three reasons and three reasons only: Sirius was there, he had no particular ambition, he wanted to be with Sirius.

M O T H E R H E N. Such a mother hen, but only for a select few people (the marauders, Lily, and Harry). He doesn't give a fuck about anyone else, but these are my people and if I weren't here they would literally get themselves killed put of household related incompetence how are you still alive by the Gods—

Follows ancient Vedic religion (because I do hehe)

Very very panromantic. Demisexual.

Had a crush on Sirius for a short while in fourth year, and then on Frank Longbottom in sixth year after he had one (1) glance at the older boy dressed in full Auror robes.

Loved his mother so much omg he was such a Mama's boyyy

Gave shit to Remus for looking like a professor at the tender age of fifteen, but wanted to become a Transfiguration Professor himself. He was also excellent at Potions (another reason Snape hated him) but decided ultimately that Transfiguration was his calling

Was in his last year of his Transfiguration Mastery on Samhain of 81.

Died with a Killing Curse on his lips. He was ready to cast it wandlessly, for his wife and child. Died with a Killing Curse on his lips.

#james potter #james potter headcanon #indian james potter #maharashtrian james potter #harry potter marauders #harry potter headcanon #james potter headcanons #harry potter #marauders headcanon #marauders headcanons #marauders #marauders era

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devine-fem · 7 months

Text

Getting ready with Jondami. Mini fic.

Damian was ready the throw in the towel, there was no way Jon would make him do this for him too. He’s already ironed and washed their clothes - his suit was strictly dry clean only… but now he realizes that Jon’s never tied a tie before and he’d have to do that for him as well precisely after he’d finished sewing back together a bunch of his spare capes.

Jon obviously had no clue how to do it properly because the keeper loop was showing which made Damian want to click his tongue but it was too early to tease Jon, he could save that for later.

“Come here and put your head down,” the shorter boy commanded.

Jon listened. He hunched so the other could get better access to the tie that he’d already formed a knot in.

“I swear you're the only person I know who can’t tie a tie.”

Jon was too distracted by getting to see Damian in formal wear for a second and he forgot what Damian was talking about. When Jon snapped out of his little trance he finally spoke.

“Good morning to you too, Damian.”

“Good morning. Stop fidgeting so I can fix this.”

Damian undid the knot. He pulled the tail over the neck of the tie and made sure the keeper loop was where it was supposed to be.

Jon’s mind wasn't where it was supposed to be. Damian is always going to be Damian, though that's what makes the affection so much better. It gives it value like a “Good job” after a physically taxing superhero mission.

“Can I get a kiss?” Jon finally allowed himself to ask.

Damian looks up with eyes that seem to study Jon more than anything.

“If you fix your hair then maybe.”

That seemed fair but only to Damian. Jon thought about it while Damian brought the wide end of the tie back through the loop and collar. Jon quickly became helpless and he let his thoughts take reign over his body.

Jon placed the easiest of kisses on Damian’s forehead. The tie was yet finished but Damian certainly was.

All that was left was to tighten the knot around Jon’s neck and Damian did but far too fast, way too tight, and with too much spite which was any.

“I’m sorry- I’m sorry!” Jon chocked.

Damian rolled his eyes and tightened properly. Knowing the former gesture made him happy even if he couldn't admit it. Now that justice was served, he couldn't stay mad at Jon anyway.

#jondami #damian wayne #jon kent #supersons #super sons #jonathan kent #fanfic #damijon

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planetpiastri · 1 year

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💝+ a kiss on the cheek that turns into a kiss on the lips from the a hundred different kisses with bob?🤍

im a big dumby and have had this sitting half-written in my drafts for like a week!! anyways i think this is so sweet and so cute and i hope u enjoy<3 | [wc - 0.8k]

The night air was cold, but you hardly noticed. Bob was warm, and as you hooked your arm through his and intertwined your fingers, heat flared through you, fighting off the chill of the evening.

While tonight might have only been your third date, it felt like you’d been together for ages now. Things had progressed naturally and gradually with Bob, and in the six months since you’d met him, you’d never stopped getting butterflies when he so much as brushed his hand against yours. You could hardly believe he seemed to feel the same for you that you felt for him.

There was just one problem: he hadn’t kissed you yet.

You didn’t mind taking things slow with Bob. In fact, you thought it was pretty sweet. On your first date he had told you earnestly, “I want it to be special,” and you trusted him. With other guys you might have worried that there was some other reason they were holding back, but with Bob you didn’t have to worry about those silly insecurities. It was nice, and it was refreshing.

But you also really, really wanted to kiss him.

Actually, strike that—you really, really, really wanted him to kiss you.

All these thoughts and more raced through your mind as you left the mini golf course and began to cross the parking lot back to Bob’s car, and you were still lost in thought as he pulled out and merged onto the highway back towards home.

He turned on the radio and reached over, lacing your fingers together, and you smiled. It pulled you back into the present moment, and you were alarmed by how much you liked this man. But then his tongue darted out to wet his lips, and you were right back to that same train of thought as before.

When he pulled up outside your apartment, he turned the radio down and said, “I know you have an early morning tomorrow. I had a lot of fun tonight, though.”

“Hm,” you said, distracted.

He squeezed your hand, his smile nervous and curious. “You okay? You’ve seemed a world away since you beat me at mini golf.”

What were you doing? You were in a car with a beautiful boy who cared deeply about you—so deeply about you that he wanted you to have the perfect rom-com moment you’d dreamed of since you were a little kid. And here you were, moping about it.

You squeezed his hand back and smiled reassuringly. “Sorry. Just thinking about tomorrow. I’m sorry I have to go so early, but I’d love to see you this weekend.”

His eyes crinkled when he smiled. You loved that about him. “I’d really like that.”

“Okay. Okay, bye, Bob.” You squeezed his hand again—god, you wanted to kiss him so bad—before opening your passenger door and getting out. You paused there on the sidewalk for a moment.

Oh, what the hell?

You dashed around the hood of Bob’s car, stopping at his driver’s side door and gesturing for him to roll the window down. When he did, you said, “Sorry. I just—I had a lot of fun tonight. I wanted to say thank you.”

“Oh. You’re welcome.”

And his tongue darted out to wet his lips again.

If he was going to do it, now was the moment. You met his eyes, feeling drawn deeply into them. His fingers fidgeted on the steering wheel. Goosebumps prickled your legs.

And he didn’t kiss you.

With a sigh, you reached out to gently cup his cheek. You orchestrated every moment, hoping and praying that you weren’t about to find out that he actually was holding back for those other reasons. But his cheek was warm, and he leaned into your touch as you tipped through the window and pressed a quick kiss to his cheek.

The words ‘Bye, Bob’ died on your lips as his hand came up to cup your jaw, and as you began to pull away again, he turned his head and captured your mouth with his.

It was fireworks; it was a roller coaster; it was the beach at sunset; it was a run through an airport; it was the special moment you had both been waiting for. It was quite possibly the best kiss ever recorded in history.

He pulled away with a soft gasp and breathed, “I couldn’t wait any more.”

In reply, you wrapped your hands around the back of his neck and kissed him again. He made a soft, happy sound in the back of his throat, drawing a smile onto your face even as your mouth moved against his.

You pulled away, pressing another quick kiss to his cheek before withdrawing from the window, glad to see your own unshakable smile mirrored on his face. Now, finally, you said, “Bye, Bob.”

“Good night,” he whispered.

You forced yourself not to look over your shoulder as you walked up to your apartment, turned the key in the lock, and slipped inside. Your heart pounded in your chest as you pressed your back against the closed front door, letting your eyes fall shut blissfully.

Okay, so maybe three dates was the perfect amount of time to wait for a first kiss.

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x you #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fluff #bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd x reader #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd imagine #robert bob floyd blurb #robert bob floyd fluff #robert bob floyd fic #vinny's valentine's prompt party #vinny fics

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sofasoap · 1 year

Text

A quiet moment - Lastochka

Pairing : Nikolai x F!Reader ( OC/Mini MacTavish) + Taskforce 141 + König

Summary: Little Anya getting all the love from her family.

Part I , Part II, Interlude,Part III,Part IV,Part V,Epilogue, Night

WARNING: Mature theme, talk of pregnancy, swearing, slight hint of sexy time

Thanks to @homicidal-slvt for planting ideas into my brain. this whole series is all for you :)

My usual thanking @saltofmercury, mother of Mini, for lending me the character :) Please go and check out her fics!

“masterlist” for Mini MacTavish expanded verse.

Nikolai can hear you groaning over the headset, in discomfort. But he couldn’t see what was happening. They are flying over a danger zone, he can’t afford to lose his concentration nor tear his eyes off from the sky, no matter how much he wants to turn around, and check up on you physically. He has noticed you haven’t really been yourself in the last month or so. Often wake up groggy, exhausted all day, and losing appetite. He is seriously starting to worry there might be something wrong with you. You are currently bending over, head in your hand and legs curled up in your seat, trying everything to distract yourself from the nauseating feeling that hits you in waves every time there is a slight turbulence, shaking the helicopter.

“Um… Uh, You ok??” König asked, trying to pat you on the back clumsily. Letting out another groan, you threw your headset to the side, curling up even further into your seat, into a foetus position. Slightly panicking, König reached into one of his side pouches, where he brought out a little tin container. Opening it up, he took out a piece of candied lemon ginger from there and stuffed it into your hand. “Ah, have this, I , um, get motion sickness sometimes, and um, this usually helps.” he stammered as he explains, encouraging you to put the candy into your mouth, hoping to give you a bit of relief. Turning your head slightly with watery eyes, you nodded your head, and quickly putting the candy into your mouth. Getting slight relief from the tanginess of the lemon and spiciness of the ginger, you turn onto your side, leaning your head against the back of the pilot seat. “Give me comfort to have my wife as close to me as possible.” Nikolai said once when you question why he always insists on you sitting right behind him. Now you are glad you have something to lean against, other than trying to lean against König, which you are sure the giant soldier probably will get a panic attack if you do that. With a shaky hand, you pointed to the med kit on the other side of the helicopter, mumbling something. König leaned closer and asked you to repeat.

‘.... ondansetron…..med kit… pass it to me please…” you said weakly. You knew you should have taken it this morning before boarding the flight. But went against it because you didn’t want to fall asleep during the mission.

Quickly unbuckle his seat belt, passing other soldiers as he stride over to grab the medication you needed, and pass it onto you. Breaking the foil and putting it under your tongue, try to let your mind wander, and think of everything else other than the breakfast and bile that is threatening to come back up, at the same time praying the anti-nausea medication will kick in ASAP.

König took his headset off, leaning closer, trying to be discreet, “Not trying to be nosy but um, my wife.. She had similar symptoms when she was… you know.” motioning with his large hand, indicating a large stomach.

You feel like someone has dumped a bucketful of cold water over your head. Shit, you forgot that might be the possibility. But… you have a birth control implant. That’s when you realised, it has expired. For quite a while too. CRAP.

“I won’t tell anyone.” Fidgeting with his hand as he reassured you,you nodded your head with gratitude, thanking him for looking after you. He pressed the small tin box with the candy into your hand. “Here have this, just in case um, you need it again.” Opening your eyes wide, you shook your head, trying to decline.

‘It’s ok. I can make more.” “You, you made this?” Gosh, that was a surprise.

Twiddling his thumb, he confessed, “I .. I like baking. And um, carving.” Your eyes brightened up. Two of you spend the rest of the flight discussing recipes, and exchanging your famous chocolate biscuit recipe for his Oma’s mouth watering apple strudel recipe. It was a welcoming distraction until the helicopter came to land.

Nikolai found you lying down across the seat, lazily waving goodbye to the soldiers as they departed for their mission.

“Hey.” You greeted your husband with half closed eyes, the medication has finally kicked in, so has the side effect.

Frowning as he gently moves your head into his lap and caresses your face, “What’s going on little bird, I am seriously worrying about you lately.” “Nothing. Just getting a bit air sick.”Closing your eyes as you enjoy his loving touches, and trying to dismiss his concerns. Not wanting to fuss about you and letting him in on the news until you are a hundred percent sure. There is a chance maybe you ate something that doesn’t agree with you, or maybe you are getting a bit old, and motion sickness gets you easier now. But deep down, you are pretty certain the cause of the discomfort. “You never get motion sickness. At least not when I am piloting.” He puffed with pride. “I know how your brain works, little bird, tell me what is wrong.” He can always read your thoughts. When you are hiding something. When you are uncomfortable. When you pretend to be strong. “I really don’t know.” You are scared. Scared by his reaction to a possible new addition to the family? Or are you scared that after finally working your way back to active duty, you will be pushed back to sitting in the barrack again, that feeling of uselessness coming back to you again. Taking a deep breath and circling your arm around his waist, “Maybe it’s something I ate. I’ll get it checked out once we are back at the base.”

“Promise me you will?” He gave you a look of warning. He knows you too well. You will put things off until the last minute or until necessary.

“Yes love. I will.” burying your face into his abs, taking in his scent, giving you some comfort. Not yet. Just to keep it to yourself a little bit longer..

“Positive?????” “Positive. Congratulations.”

Chameleon passed you the pregnancy stick and blood test result. “Now you know what that means right?”

Your shoulders drop. Rubbing your forehead, you know you have to stop all active duty pretty much from now on. You are going to miss looking after the team from the frontline.

“How did you do it?” You asked after staring at the piece of paper in front of you. Signing off another few documents,she replied,“ Well,I guess my situation is slightly different, I rarely get sent out, so it was easier for me. But.” passing the prescriptions to you, “You know how much John fusses over things, he was texting every hour, if they weren’t going dark,asking how I was feeling.” She sighed.

You can just imagine the Captain hovering around his wife, nagging away like a mother hen. Letting out a snorting laugh, you took the documents from her.

“Anyway, go get some rest. I’ll file the reports to the HR tomorrow. But it’s up to you to break the news to the boys now.” She smiled. You gave her a big hug before you left the infirmary, back to your shared room. You don’t know how long you have sat there for, zoning out, thinking of ways to break the news to the team. Or to your husband first. Also trying to fully come to terms with the situation, another big twist to your life. The two of you have briefly talked about the possibility of starting a family when you first got married. You were quite reluctant to jump into it after trying to recover from your ordeal, and Nikolai never mentioned anything again, and you assumed either he wasn’t too keen to bring up the subject or he had given up on the idea. You heard the soft click of the door unlocking, before seeing Nikolai stepping into the room. Calling out to him with a wavering voice, lips trembling, trying hard to contain the tears that are threatening to drop from your eyes. Those damn hormones are already wrecking your emotions, you thought. Why are you even crying???? It’s a happy occasion isn’t it? That self doubt starts to appear again. What if he gets angry at you? What if he doesn’t want the child at all? On that thought you bursted out crying. Nikolai immediately closes the door, taking a few steps forward and kneeling in front of you. “What’s the matter Lastochka, was it bad news from the doctor? Please tell me?” He gently wraps his larger hands around yours, encouraging you to talk.

Trying very hard not to hyperventilate, you closed your eyes, taking a few deep breath before Letting out the news. “I .. I can’t be with you anymore….” you hiccuped. You feel his hand tighten around yours. Opening your eyes, you can see flashes of fear before staring at you with hardened eyes.

Realising your mistake, you quickly explain, “ No. nono, that came out totally wrong.” you quickly pull back his already retracting hands, guiding it towards your now slightly showing bump. “I can’t go on missions with you boys anymore. Lady Fortuna is officially off active duty now.” you let out a weak chuckle. “ and you.” Patting his hand and softening your gaze at him, “Have to start learning to be a Papa.” He was still staring at you, you couldn’t figure out his emotion at all. You chewed on your lip, waiting anxiously for his reaction. Pulling one of his hands away, his eyes dropped down to your stomach, slowly caressing it as he started mumbling words in Russian. Your eyes fill up with tears again as you see him showing tenderness towards the unborn baby.

“...Boy or girl?” he whispered. Shaking your head. “I am not sure yet. I am going for the scan in a few days.” “How far along?”

“I am guessing I am still in the first trimester….” You didn’t want to say, but you had a pretty good idea when this happened….

That night was the first time he showed his full possessiveness towards you. Filling you up again and again.“That Сука has tainted my beautiful Lastochka with their filthy hand…” “I have told you before, you will only crave for me, no one else.”

“My beautiful bird,sing for me again.. I know you can do it..”

Your face starts burning when you think back to the night. “From that covert mission?” he chuckled. “We were.. Quite busy that night.” standing up, he moved himself to sit beside you, and pull you into his lap.

“Thank you.” He whispered as he slowly and gently kisses you.

“For what?” you murmured.

“Carrying our child.” You chuckled. “Hey, you were part of the production as well.” you teased. “It’s only the start of the journey. We still have a long way to go.” Caressing your bump, he cooed, “Well, can’t wait to meet you, our little nestling.”

“COME ON Anya, come to uncle Gaz!!!” “Nonono Anya, come to your REAL uncle here!!”

“....... “ Ghost sits there, opening his arm, staring down at the baby without a word. “Ignore those .. What is the word, bampots? Come to Poppy Price.” Little Anya crawled forward, looking at each one of them, confused. She slowly moves towards Gaz, who is waving one of his latest crochet dolls at her, trying to lure the baby. Anya pouted a little, and looked at her Uncle Soap, currently flashing a brilliant smile at his niece. Anya hesitated, and eyed Ghost, and her eyes went wide with tears in her eyes, and started quickly crawling towards Price. “There there.. It’s ok.” Price cooed and patted the poor baby as she burst into tears, startled by Ghost’s balaclava. Ghost hung his head, shoulders down, feeling defeated. Gaz and Soap gave him a sympathetic pat on the shoulder. “ Maybe lose the balaclava and just wear a face mask next time…” Gaz suggested. Stuffing one of the dolls into his hand, “Or maybe try this.”

The four men were in quite a shock when you called them into Price’s office days after your discovery.

Sliding the ultrasound picture onto the desk. All four of them stared at it, looking up to you, and back to the photo, and seconds later, Ghost, Gaz and Soap erupted into an argument over who is going to be the godfather to the baby, while Price rubbing his temple, irritated at their antics.

You shifted yourself off base towards the end of the pregnancy, getting ready for the birth. Price helped you to find a place, close to the base, easy for you to go back and forth for work and visiting.

The soldiers at the base also have secretly named Ghost Gaz and Soap “Cerberus” as there is always one of the men walking around with you all the time like a guard dog whenever Nikolai isn’t around to look after you.

Little Anya was definitely spoiled by his godfathers and uncles even before she was born.

König and his wife sent a baby gift in a huge crate. You found all sorts of things there. Blankets and winter clothes his wife has made, wooden toys and baby mobiles with aeroplane and helicopter hanging off it made by König. Even a rocking horse. You were really touched by the thoughtfulness of the couple, especially his wife, who you never met before.

This fired up Gaz’s competitiveness when he discovered all the clothing and toys König had sent. He came over one day with a huge bag, inside was all the crocheted dolls of everyone.

Price with his signature boonie hat and little cigar in his mouth, Soap with his mohawk, Gaz with his Union Jack cap, Nikolai and his aviator and headset, and there is you too, in a little combat gear. Konig in his hood and gears. He even asked for photos of your parents crocheting new doll figures afterwards too.

“You made all these?????” Your jaws drop as he keeps bringing over new knitted items. Now you know where all your previous birthday and holiday gifts came from, you always wondered how everything fits you perfectly with all the unique patterns. Gaz has really surprised you with his unexpected handcraft skills. Soap and Ghost practically decorated the whole nursery full of stuff from the cot and changing tables and the dressers and any supplies you can name? They bought it all.

“.... Boys, you realise you have bought a half room full of nappies that I possibly wouldn’t ever finish using?”

“Hey, they did say newborns pop a lot, better to be ready than sorry.” Soap shrugged his shoulders. “And my niece deserves the best. Doesn’t she??” he bent down and started talking in a baby voice to your very ballooned up stomach. You can see Ghost nodding in agreement behind Soap.

Price and Chameleon, being experienced parents to two adult kids, provided you with tips and guidance when you needed the most. Especially Chameleon, she knew the hardship of being a soldier’s wife, looking after the children alone. She was there when your water broke, to calm you down when you were crying and worrying Nikolai and the men wouldn’t make it back in time to witness the birth of the baby.

Anya MacTavish ( Nikolai and you decided she would take on your surname, as it was dangerous for Nikolai’s true name and identity to be attached to the child ) was born a healthy baby, inheriting her father’s more calming nature, making minimal fuss when she landed in this world.

Nikolai tries to be there for the two of you as much as he can. Between assisting the SAS and running the mercenary group, he is a busy man. His heart often drops every time when he comes home, his daughter will clutch onto you, in fear and looking at him as if he is a stranger. It breaks his heart. He decided he needs to start pulling back, spreading his workload to his second in command and spending more time with his family.

Ghost looked down at the doll he was holding, thought hard for a second, before he went ahead and removed his balaclava. You have only seen once or twice in rare circumstances the real face of Simon, but you didn’t expect him to remove the face covering just for your daughter. Hiding her face in the crook of her Poppy Price’s neck, she turned her face slightly as Simon tried to call out to her, waving awkwardly the little doll of himself. She looks at him, eyes going wide again, trying to make sense of who this “ new person “ is, before reaching out for the doll, Price slowly passes Anya over to Simon, while she is distracted. She let out a little yawn as she fiddled around with the doll, eyes fluttering and fell asleep snuggling in Simon’s arm. Everyone smiled at the scene in front of them.

You can see mixed emotion in Simon’s eyes. Happy that both him and Anya are slowly getting comfortable with one another. Your brother-in-arms deserves every bit of happiness after all the trauma he went through with his life, and maybe his goddaughter will bring him that tiny bit of joy. You gave Nikolai a nudge, reminding him to guide Simon upstairs towards the nursery to put the baby down in the cot to sleep.

“Still sleeping?” Nikolai asked in a hushed voice, as he came up and checked his little princess after all the men had returned to the base. Peering over the cot, he can see she’s holding on tight to the Ghost doll in her arm, while sucking on her thumb as she sleeps.

“Sleeping like a log. Nothing is phasing her even if the ceiling collapses.” You are fortunate Anya has been a very easy baby, sleeping through the night most of the time. A very deep sleeper too. “Just like her mother.” “Hey, I do wake up when I sense danger.” You pouted, referring to the safe house incident where you didn’t even realise Soap and Gaz had entered the apartment.

Nikolai bent over and gave his little baby daughter a kiss on the cheek. Thinking back when he proposed to you. He thought he was lucky enough just to have you in his life, now he has a tiny little precious bird he will give all his life to protect her from all the evil of the world. Letting out a yawn. Exhausted from entertaining the guests you were ready to sleep. You let out a little yelp as Nikolai scoop you up into a bridal carry. “Time for bed for the big princess.” Kissing you lightly on your forehead, carrying you back towards the bedroom. Ideas pop up in his head. Maybe another baby wouldn’t be such a bad idea…

141 boys often volunteer for babysitting duty. They were a constant presence in their goddaughter’s life growing up. There is also the constant battle of “ who is Anya’s favourite” going on between the men.

When Anya got married, she insisted her Papa and all her uncles and Poppy walk her down the aisle.

Anya often changes which doll she is in favour of, one week might be Ghost, next week might be Gaz, or hugging both Price and Soap’s doll to sleep at same time. You tease Price and Chameleon if they are getting clucky again, or they are wishing for a grandkid, Price paled thinking about his little Grace being married so young. You tried out König’s recipe of Apple strudel. And it is heavenly delicious. It became one of Nikolai and Anya’s favourite desserts.

Yes, thanks to @siilvan , I am so inspired and might write another chapter in regard how Anya was produced *wink wink * what exactly happened the night of the covert mission (Let’s hope the muse of Smut will inspire me bit more this time )

taglist:

@homicidal-slvt,

@roosterr @preciouslittlecreature

@siilvan @floral-force @kaplerrr

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angelfoodcake222 · 3 months

Text

I'm back on my LMK x Hurt!Reader kick!!! Yippee!

"How would these characters react to their friend or S/O, Y/N, coming home after a big fight that made them temporarily forget about a prescheduled meet-up at their (Y/N's) place?" &/or something to that effect. Here's what I have for Mei, Pigsy, Tang, & Sandy.

TW: The reader [that's you] gets into a big fight. Mentions of combat, blood, violence, & bandaging/suturing (like that big, curved needle & all that). Comfort at the end of each.

A/N (Author's Note): I'm labeling this as NSFW as it is dealing with violent elements. I'll make a traditional NSFW version if this one gets some traction via likes & comments. Since there is often a lot to read in one sitting, I'll sever this up to a select few for now. even with the splitting, it is still a fair bit to read. On with the reading, enjoy.

🐉Mei Dragon

>She was so excited about some one-on-one time with you, finally!

>She had set things up to the nines for you; favorite snacks, drinks, fast-paced racing games & movies, karaoke, you name it.

>She was in her cozy PJs, snug on a mound of pillows & blankets that looked like a dragon lover's dream collection (she contributed a few things as you asked her to let you do you, "earn them yourself" as you put it).

>She agreed so long as she got to gift you some things on special yearly occasions; birthdays, holidays, anniversaries, etc. You can bet your bottom dollar that each & every single gift she got you fits you to a T. To the point where it's nearly uncanny that you'd gotten used to it quicker than you thought you would.

>Just as she reclined to stretch out on the cozy hill she heard the door to your apartment swing open against the dense drywall followed by a hard thud generously seasoned with curses in your voice.

>She felt a pit in her stomach, suddenly forgetting her want to stretch, slipping & sliding in her plushie dragon slippers to the source of the pained grunts to find you on the linoleum part of your doorstep.

>Your torn, tattered shirt did little to stop your essence from oozing onto the generic tile below you that acted as a mini-mudroom of sorts. Your jeans shared the same fate with your shoes soaked like the floor mixed with once-stagnant water.

>Mei was seething at the damage to your body & your favorite wardrobe choices as they were gifts from her, gifts you had been maintaining near-religiously.

>You loved those threads, too. You even scrounged to buy her a matching set that was safe in her room at her family's home.

>"Who did this to you, bestie!?" "Gimme a name, a face, license plate, I'll teach 'em to mess with you!"

>Your low chuckle surprises her until she spots the dark markings on your knuckles & knees. You fought back, brutally from what she could tell, too.

>"Don't worry, Mei Mei, I handled them well enough. They won't be giving me any more trouble anytime soon. Mind helping me to the bathroom to patch up?"

>Your smile is crimson, gums ooze, but you move your tongue over your side-front teeth as if to free something from between them. Had you taken a bite out of one of your attackers? Probably.

>That's a question for later.

>As you asked, she aided you to the bathroom. All the moving & stretching caused by said movements began releasing more of your life's essence, staining the wood-themed vinyl as you both shuffled to the small bathroom where you had stashed a massive first aid kit in. The kind medics would pack with them.

>Your hand shuffled through the open kit once you were seated on the closed toilet's top as Mei fidgeted in the doorway a mere three feet from you.

>"Those are some deep wounds..." She mused aloud, cringing when you pulled a suture needle out, its curved sturdy form shining in the dim light overhead.

>"That's why I got this." You spy her flinch in your periphery.

>"It's okay if you don't want to be present for this part, Mei Mei. You can step out if you'd like." She frowns pitifully.

>She wants to be there for you to help with your injuries. Holding the kit open for your convenience at the very least, but she just felt so uncomfortable around needles of nearly any kind. She doesn't know why & you never pressed for a reason.

>Once you calm her down, she agrees to step out & close the door dejectedly behind her.

>She nearly slipped on some drops of red that pooled under your foot when she was fighting with the weirdly shaped door handle.

>That's dangerous! You could slip & reopen your freshly stitched wounds! Not on her watch!

>Your robe, a usually soft & comfortable garb, felt different from your hides as you carefully tied it. The soft fabric snagged on the fresh stitches & raw wounds that simply needed to be cleaned. You would have bandaged them to hasten the healing process, but you had forgotten to restock that aspect in your arsenal of medical aids.

>Honestly, you blame the treats you passed by & began ogling on an empty stomach on your way to the pharmacy.

>Aching & fatigued, you limp to the door but stop at the smell of cleaning products.

>She had cleaned the whole apartment in the time it took you to join your severed skins back together. She was walking out with an emptied bucket adorned with an old rag & other scrubbing tools.

>A soft tilt of your head was all the "Thank You" she needed.

>You helped put the supplies away & together you both eased into the mound to enjoy the setup Mei had made up for you.

>Soon enough, your eyes drifted down seemingly with gravity hauling your lids over your eyes.

>Slumber came swiftly.

>While you rested, Mei paused her half of the game your character would have nearly crashed in if she hadn't put her avatar between yours & the obstacle right as she paused.

>With as light of a touch as she could muster, she pulls the fluffiest blanket over you to tuck you in. Good & cozy.

>With that, she began her research.

>She had faith & trust in your brawling abilities, she promises she does & you believe her, but she just couldn't let this go without having some tabs on whoever hurt you. Just to be safe.

>As much as she hates to admit it, she was happy to be able to see the imprint of one jerk's insignia ring that was left on your forehead.

>Tracking that scumbag & his buddies shouldn't take much time at all...

🐷 Pigsy

>He sat patiently in your kitchen, watching the pot's lid rattle with trapped steam as the dumplings cooked.

>You had both agreed to watch the Chang'e Cooking marathon you had both been excited to watch for over three months now.

>It took a little time to convince him, but he agreed on the condition that you cooked together while watching the countdown to the marathon's start.

>You agreed.

>Unlike the others who set up mountains of fabrics & pillows galore, he set up something simple: a couple of blankets, some pillows, healthy little snacks to follow the meal you were both going to make, that's it.

>He had stood up to check the noodles & dumplings when you staggered in, once-bagged groceries cradled in a gifted/found basket under your less bandaged arm before noticing your friend standing in your open kitchen.

>You thought back quickly to that scene in the park half an hour ago leading to your home, when some punks were picking on some unfortunate granny & her friends.

>How could you just walk away & turn a blind eye to such an attrocious act of disrespect & inhumanity!?

>The battle was gruesome, to put it lightly, but the Granny Squad managed to ban together & help you.

>One of the ladies gifted you her recently emptied sweets basket & head scarf to hold everything together after helping you wash the goods off with a nearby hose. Once that was taken care of, they focused on you & on as much as they could help you with (which was quite a lot).

>With cleaned ingredients in your arms, you thank the ladies fervently & dash off to put the items into proper storage.

>"Aw, noodles! The marathon!" You grit through blood-stained teeth as Pigsy blinks.

>He looks like he's stuck between shocked, confused, worried & upset.

>The countdown showed that there were still a couple hours left before the show started, so you looked to the boar in your kitchen sheepishly before shifting the tucked container to holding the covered basket of goods.

"Sorry about the ingredients, I tried to clean them as best as I could..."

>You tried to explain before he shook his head.

>Carefully, without causing any extra discomfort for you, he took the ingrediants & set them onto the countertop.

>One thing you've learned about your friend in the past few years of knowing him is that he may act all big & menacing, but he's arguably the sweetest guy you've known (Right by Tang & MK, of course).

>You thank him & scurry to your bathroom to properly clean up & bandage yourself with the added maintanance of your teeth so you could properly enjoy the meal undoubtedly leading to a taste sensation.

>When you step out to the living room, you're treated to Pigsy setting the last tray of food onto the coffee/tea table with a low grunt.

>For the remaining hour you two sat on the sofa, he bandaged the spots you couldn't reach for one reason or another, shared the dumplings & snacks, & conversed over your favorite Chang'e recipes, all drizzled with him telling you to be more careful on your way home from now on.

>With the finished meals' plates & utenciles cleaned of food & settled into the deep kitchen sink, you all bandaged up, the pair of you slouch into the couch, watching the last few minutes of the countdown tick by in comfortable silence.

"Hey, Pigsy?"

"Yeah?"

"Thanks. For everything."

"No problem, Y/N."

>With that, the marathon began & was theroughly enjoyed.

👨🏻‍🏫 Tang

>You wanted to understand JTTW in-depth, you truly did, but your brain wouldn't let you. Tang to the rescue... Sort of.

>Name the type of Monkey King media available to the public & then some & you've barely scratched the surface of what Tang packed to your appartment with a little help from MK who had to leave for FFM.

>He hadn't done anything to set up your living room in any sort of special way aside from the merchandise & historical items.

>Okay, he got some Pigsy's take out to nibble on throughout the session.

>He even remembered your favorites!

>He just set the last "historically acurate" figurine & its stand onto the coffee/tea table when you groaned through your front door.

>You had stopped by a local supply shop for an ample amount of note taking material, just knowing how Tang was going to get once he got really into his favorite work & figure.

>Simple, mundane, task.

>Notebooks of favored rule (college rule or Wide rule, dotted & gridded paper is also an option), colored pens/pencils of your choosing, Monkey King stickers for Tang ranging from plain to shiny to puffy as a 'thank you' coupled with a Mankey Cop cap to wear whenever he pleased, & some drinks to go with the food he most likely sweet-talked out of Pigsy.

>You were nearly half way home when some ruffians jumped you to snatch the selectively academic & fandom items from you.

>They were most likely trying to steal your large totebag (labeled with "bookworm" in cutesy stenciled characters you had done with MK not too long ago) for the items within it to price gouge the merchandise in person or online, chug the drinks, even misusing the writing materials.

>The fight took a lot out of you, tore your bag & clothes, even saw you getting cut by one of the broken drink bottles when you tripped.

>You still managed to save the rest of the drinks but they partially stained the cap & your notebooks.

>Serves you right (affectionatly) for picking a brand that didn't wrap their product in the same wrapping your pens/pencils & stickers were protectively cloaked in.

>You had to coddle the items in your cut up arms like a baby, your wounds seemingly throbbing into a dull ache when you spotted Tang kneeling next to the figurine of a midflight Monkey King on his Cloud, staff in hand/paw.

>Despite your carrying two or three reminders of your preagreed plans, your focus was rattled about until you turned to settle your tattered bag onto the sofa in your living space.

>He was just as frozen as you were, both standing a few feet from the other.

"Uhm... *clicks tongue awkwardly* Imma go bathe & patch myself up. If you still wanna do this, you can stay. If not, I'll help you pack up once I'm done. Okay?"

>Tang nods nervously, glancing over your battered form & tote before you lurch to your bathroom.

>You were so busy cleaning yourself & clothing your injuries in the stock of medical items that you didn't notice Tang busying himself in the living room: Stitching your bag's edges back together, touching up the character with a marker near the same color group as best as he could, drying the pages of your notebooks with a hairdryer you had forgotten in your nightbag you had left in your living room that you said you'd pick up & put away days ago.

>You stagger out with a sigh to see Tang trying his best to save your sullied materials, seemingly not noticing that the drinks, stickers, or the cap was for him & not for you.

>You quietly watch his back as he mumbled to himself about worrying over your safety, how he'd learn to bandage your wounds whenever you needed, how he'd never let you walk alone again as he would guide you down the safest streets & paths he takes daily, even learning basic self defence to at least grant you a little back up when you needed it.

>Your tired eyes drift about, over the messily stitched up bag, the pencils/pens sitting in their case on the table beside the rest of the items, all surrounding Tang who was a little too focused on not burning your book's pages with the blowdryer.

>Strange how the rainbow of writing items stood out so starkly against the reds & golds that seemingly engulfed his emediate space.

>Without holding it back, you give a soft giggle which startles him into turning your way.

>He accadentilly blasted the dryer's air straight under his face in turning to you causing his hair to tussle wildly over his fogged glasses, earning another giggle from you.

"I- your things were a little beaten up &- well, they neede dto be fixed so you could learn- &- &-."

>Stammering is all he can do at the moment until you boop him from his sitting position as you now stood languidly beside him.

"Tangy, breathe. It's all good."

>He smiles in relief before glancing over the table with a now calmed gaze.

"Is that a Monkey Cop cap!? With the real badge & everything!?"

>He procedes to ramble happily, occasionally looking to you to see if you were listening to him speak before continueing on.

>You peacfully watched his adorable rambling expressions, quitly taking mental notes on whatever you could snag from the 100 mph info dumping.

>Not long after you both finish your meals (A task that took a while as you needed to cease his fanboying longenough to actually eat), you both sat on the sofa watching a SWK action movie of some kind he had picked out for you.

>The movie was good despite the overly amped up sfx & horribly down played dialog audio, though that's most action movies that you're aware of.

>Snoring catches your drowzy attention as you peek down to your side where Tang had slumped over the opposite arm of the couch, fast asleep.

>Knowing he gets enough back pain hunching over a study desk, you stand & lay him onto thsofa in a more comfortable position while removing his glasses to set them on the side table.

>Good thing you had plenty of lap blankets around for him. Pillows, too.

>Kneeling beside the snoring man, you can't help but tuck the blanket in to create a cozy setting for him.

>You'll have to reschedule the study session for later.

>For now, a light snooze sitting up by Tang would do your eyes some good.

Here it is! I haven't picked who I'm writing for next but I'll try to think of someone later. I hope you enjoyed & have a lovely day/night!

#lmk x reader #lmk tang #lmk pigsy #lmk mei #Pigsy #Tang #Mei Dragon

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captainsimagines · 1 year

Text

pretty woman, this is me trying || six

Summary: Bucky Barnes does not like to be touched. He’s completely ready to live a distant life and give up when the time is right. Until Stark hires him his own personal pretty woman. Over time, Bucky Barnes begins to learn how to touch again. How to feel again. How to love himself again.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female SexWorker!Reader

Trope(s): Holiday Fanfic ; Slow-Burn ; Friends to Lovers

Based on the Song(s): sweet nothing by Taylor Swift and Iris by The Goo Goo Dolls

(6/14)

Mini-Series

Warnings: explicit language; angry Steve; overthinking idiots

Word Count: 4,170+

“His ass looks insane in those pants.”

Bucky tucked his face into his shoulder as innocently as he could. This was not the time to talk about Stark’s ass, especially at a public charity event. But damn did you liven these events up with just your presence alone.

You had called him asking if he was free today and he had begrudgingly said no. After a sad moment, he asked if you would like to tag along to a Firehouse grand opening, after which you said only if lunch was promised.

So here you two were, sitting behind four other Avengers and one Tony Stark, who was giving one of the strangest speeches Bucky had ever heard.

“If he squats—a couple squats, up and down, let’s be honest—they’ll rip. You think Pepper bullied him before he left their bedroom?”

Bucky was about to respond, to answer a truthful ‘I actually think those are her jeans’, when a bright red head whispered over a poised shoulder.

“You’re both wrong. She encouraged it because she bet him fifty-thousand dollars he wouldn’t wear them in public.”

Natalia Romanov.

“And how would you know this, Natalia?” Bucky whispered back, eyebrow quirked.

“Pepper and I’s daily coffee and crumpets, of course.”

“Are crumpets those things that look like pancakes, but are really just bread?” you interjected, leaning forward in your seat. Natalia glanced at you, giving one look up and down, her face absent of judgment. Absent of anything, really. Bucky knew she had an ongoing sheet of notes in her mind ever since he walked in here with you. Maybe even from before that. He doubted it—Bucky’s been insanely careful whenever he goes to your apartment. Hiding you in the compound is unnecessary. But even if he trusts Natalia, he didn’t want her knowing where you lived. Surprise visits were unwelcome.

“They are,” Natalia answered, that lovely smirk growing. “As Bucky’s new friend, I believe an invitation to brunch with the gals is in order.”

You fidgeted in your seat, lips spreading thin as you struggled to respond quickly.

“Introduce yourself first, Natalia,” Bucky grumbled. Stark was still talking at the podium, and none of his other friends had turned to join the quiet conversation.

Natalia finally turned her body and held out a graceful hand, her manicure as perfect as yours. “Natasha Romanoff, the red-headed one.”

You shook her hand, your awkward smile now turned childish and happy. Telling her your name had never felt more natural for Bucky. He liked hearing you introduce yourself. It reminded him of the day you two met.

“I-I know. I have your action figure.”

Natalia chuckled warmly, glancing over her shoulder at Tony. “Nice meeting you. Bucky’s been absent around the compound lately. Is it safe to say you’re the reason?”

“What does it look like, Romanov?”

“It can look like anything, Barnes.”

“Do me a favor and keep the cameras away from us, please? Especially if you see Reagan,” Bucky asked, jutting his chin toward the cameramen near the podium. You squinted at Bucky as he said this, an unspoken question at the tip of your tongue.

“Favors? At this ungodly hour?”

“It’s eleven in the morning.”

“I don’t aid others until I’ve had lunch.”

You cleared your throat, rubbing your hands together. You weren’t this awkward while meeting Tony and Steve. What was different?

“I would appreciate it,” you told Natalia.

“Camera shy?” Natalia hummed.

No, Bucky thought. But your photo invited questions, involved search engines, and was only one click away.

“Something like that,” you replied, flushing with mock embarrassment. Good, it would throw Natalia off your scent.

“Well, I’ll do my best,” Natalia promised. “You two ditching the ribbon cutting ceremony?”

“Isn’t that the point of this thing?” you asked, looking over the seats to get a better look at Stark.

“Yeah, but Tony will prolong it to the point I’ll point a gun to my own head. I suggest you two run before that show starts.”

Bucky grinned at her, shaking his head at her audacity. “I’ll get her out of here.”

Then Bucky reached over and patted your thigh.

Natalia failed to hold in her gasp. She quickly turned back around, straightening her shoulders as casually as she could. But Bucky knew what he had done.

No matter the startled reaction from Natalia, he had touched you in public. Without thinking twice.

His chest burst with overwhelming joy just as Stark finished his speech and bowed to the applauding audience.

Staring down at your boots probably wasn’t the most effective method of hiding your face from the cameras. Though, no one was paying much mind to you anyway. Especially when Tony Stark and Sam Wilson were currently posing for photo ops. Bucky was chatting with a donor about some other project, and Natasha had already snuck away. The ribbon cutting was in a few minutes.

When you attended events like this with your dates, you always tried your best to interact with the general population. Small talk, politely declining photos, building connections in places that could benefit you in the future. It didn’t feel right doing the same here. For some reason, establishing relationships within Bucky’s social circle felt dirty. You weren’t presenting your true self to these people after all. Who knew what would happen in January.

And Bucky’s comment about having Natasha keep the cameras away from you and leaving as soon as possible didn’t help. Almost like he was ashamed of you. Ashamed if his friends ever found out.

A throat cleared from beside you, the person responsible doing their absolute best at seeming small. But you had become familiar with strong builds, muscles influenced by both practice and science. You narrowed your eyes toward Steve, lifting an eyebrow in greeting.

“You and Buck have been seeing each other a lot.”

“Two weeks, eighteen hours, forty-three minutes, and seven seconds to be exact.”

Steve’s head nearly twisted from his shoulders as he processed your words. You stifled the laugh bubbling in your chest, smiling directly at him instead. “I am totally fucking with you.”

He cleared his throat again, his voice becoming lower. “We don’t date a lot at the compound. Too many people in it for the wrong reasons.”

“Bucky and I are just friends.”

“No, Buck doesn’t make new friends nowadays.”

“Give the guy some credit. Damn.”

“That’s not—” Steve caught himself, faking a smile for the people passing by. “I meant, we don’t even see him as often as you do.”

You simply blinked at him, unconvinced. Bucky didn’t like to be touched, but he did crave companionship. Maybe it was effort that was lacking in the Avenger circle.

“Where are you going after this?”

Something in Steve’s tone was accusatory, fishing for evidence of wrongdoing. You tried to minimize the effect it had on you considering you’ve heard much worse directed toward you and the profession. It was blurring now, however—Was Steve trying to learn the specifics of his friend’s condition, or was he uncomfortable with your presence in general?

“Ice skating. But I did want to make a quick pit-stop at the bomb store before that.”

“Great, you’re funny.”

“I’m more than just my wit, Captain.”

“I see how Bucky would be attracted to that. I do. But I’ve been trying to get him out of that apartment for more than just three times a year. He’s been going out with you way too often.”

Honestly, it probably would have been a lot easier if Steve just punched you in the face.

“Why are you questioning him?”

“I’m questioning you.”

“Why are you questioning me, questioning him?”

Steve blinked, mouth parting with the absence of sound. He glanced around the crowded room, at the dozens of reporters and at the gigantic Christmas tree balancing on its measly stand. At the firefighters posing for pictures with Stark and Sam.

Finally, as if it took considerable effort to formulate a response, he answered, “Ice skating at Rockefeller?”

You rolled your eyes, expecting more than that. That earned you a set of wide eyes from the Captain.

“Yup. Oh, and since I’m sure you’re dying to know—My favorite color is green and my period doesn’t start until next month. I am ovulating, though.”

Steve continued to stutter as you lengthened the distance between you. If he wasn’t trying so hard to find out what damn color you bled, you’re sure you could get him to like you. Fall in love with you, even. Men were simple like that.

“Hey,” Bucky greeted, smiling wide as you approached him. Once you were close enough, he angled his body so that the cameras were stuck with odd angles of you. “You ready to go?”

“Always.”

You chanced a look over your shoulder out of curiosity, hoping to see something that would paint a positive image of Steve Rogers in your head. Yet, you witnessed Steve strip that tough demeanor and adopt what looked like distress. A once brooding, mountain of a man crumbling rock by rock, unable to stall the landslide of panic.

“I’m going to look like an asshole.”

Your laugh sounded across the ice, startling surrounding skaters. Bucky had asked for an hour of skating instead of the usual thirty minutes per couple. After showing his ID, he was promised two. He hadn’t known, however, that out of the two of you only he knew how to ice skate. Who lived in New York for over ten years and hadn’t visited this skating rink at least once?

Listen to him. Talking as if these traditions made sense in his own brain. It was a new attraction in the 1930s, but he and Steve had never afforded it.

Steve probably really wanted to take him.

“You know how to skate. My ass does not. So you’ll be forced to save me from face planting!”

“Coercion.”

“Strategy.”

“Trickery.”

“Smart!”

Bucky huffed, skating around you in a perfect circle. You wobbled, stretching out your arms to gain balance. He didn’t want you to fall, but the sight of you trying hard not to was definitely entertaining.

“I’ve got it, look look look!”

“Oh, I’m looking.”

“To the center!” you declared, pushing yourself forward. But your skates were slightly tilted, so you scraped the ice instead.

“Alright, alright. You’re breaking my heart,” Bucky admitted, skating to your side. Your warmth was a welcoming distraction. Countless, nameless faces skated past him and although the voice at the back of his warned him of it all, all he focused on was you.

You and your mittens and your incredibly wobbly legs.

“Like this,” he instructed while holding out his metal hand. You gripped it tight, smiling like you had already won. But this wasn’t what was expected from a person who was sure to face-plant—You expected Bucky to catch you before you broke your nose. He would have to hold you, pull you up or pull you into his chest, and it scared Bucky to death.

He led you to the circle at an extremely slow place, barely pausing in time to avoid crashing into the other skaters. He struggled to protect your wobbly ass all while you laughed.

“I want to twirl like them!”

“I’m gonna need you to fuck off with that dream.”

“But it looks so fun!” you whined.

Bucky grumbled, scowling at the group of girls who were performing fucking Disney On Ice. “Can’t you just hold onto the ledge?”

“I spent twenty dollars to skate like a professional!”

“I spent forty dollars on both of us, don’t lie.”

You grumbled this time. Once you were at the center, you stopped and balanced yourself. “My feet hurt.”

“You complain a lot, you know?”

You giggled, “I complain about things I’m not good at.”

“How do you expect to get any better then?”

“Twirl me and I promise I’ll get better.”

Bucky shot you a stern look, watching as the air that left his mouth fogged across your face. You scrunched your nose, challenging his expression. Yet, the longer you two stared at each other, ignoring the skaters around you and the cold, Bucky folded.

He ran a hand down the top of his beanie to the back of his neck as he sighed, “Fine. But when you break your face, I don’t want to hear shit.”

You cheered, pushing away from him to prepare yourself. He forced himself not to smile. All these weeks, you have given him things. Confidence, soft touches, cookies, a damn dog. You wanted to twirl? This he could make perfect for you.

“Core and thigh strength, plus balance. That’s all it takes,” he directed, holding out both hands. You took them and nodded your understanding, preparing yourself for however way this was going to go.

“I’m going to skate in a circle, basically dragging you along with me. Once we gain some speed, I’ll twirl like they do when waltzing.”

“What if my feet get tangled with yours?”

“Then we both die. Alright, ready?”

He didn’t allow you time to prepare at all. He skated fast to start with, effectively avoiding all that awkward starter-wobbling. You yelled from behind him, expletives meeting his ears and no doubt meeting others. Bucky didn’t mind one bit. He used to worry about what people thought about him. Whether he was good or evil, that is. With you, he was carefree and at peace.

You could scream all you wanted.

“Ready?” he called, speeding a little further. You squealed, your answer incoherent.

He waited until you occupied an area with little to no people, then turned in your grip. He raised his metal arm, disconnecting your flesh ones, and turned you in place.

Your feet didn’t collide with him or trip over themselves. You twirled like a beginner ballerina, clumsy and cut-off, but you twirled. It apparently counted because you were already cheering before he twirled you again.

And again and again.

He stopped as people neared, attempting to slow. But someone cut him off as he tried to turn back around, and Bucky could not catch himself in time.

With your hands still connected, Bucky plunged to the ice and pulled you down with him. He cupped your head as you rolled, using his metal hand to claw at the ice. Luckily, you stopped rolling before you hit anyone else’s feet. Bucky landed on top of you, air pushed from his lungs.

He looked down, meeting your merry gaze. You smiled widely, chest wracked with laughter. Bucky let himself sink into the feeling of being on top of you, of holding the back of your head, of his lips being mere centimeters from yours. He let himself feel it all.

And found that he wanted to remove himself because he was crushing you, not because his body was rejecting it. He breathed in the cold night air, nearly choking on it, ecstatic.

“I twirled!”

Bucky bit his lip, his cheeks turning even redder. “You did.”

“Do you want to come back the day after Christmas and show me how to jump?”

He chuckled, “It’s a date.”

He rolled onto his back, facing the night sky. If you two didn’t get up soon, you would be put on blast by the speakerphone. Still, Bucky relished the few seconds he was afforded, even chancing counting stars.

“Thank you, Bucky.”

Bucky turned to look at you and found an expression of pure joy. Like you were grateful for a mediocre twirl on an ice skating rink. Had no one taken the time to twirl you off the ice? Had you ever been twirled at all?

“You’re welcome.”

He reached a hand between your bodies, and held your hand. Flesh to metal, for longer than a few seconds.

He didn’t let go until your two hours were up.

Bucky pet Axel’s head when he greeted you both at your apartment door. His food bowl was empty and his water needed to be refilled. You grabbed a glass and filled it, then bent down to do just that.

“Did you bring his treats?” you asked, waving at Axel like had full capability of waving back.

Bucky didn’t respond, so you looked to where he was standing in the middle of your living room. Perfectly still, eyebrows scrunched. Listening.

“Don’t tell me it’s the Ghost of Christmas,” you teased, walking straight to him.

“Get behind me,” Bucky ordered, physically pushing you back.

Bucky… Pushed you back.

Without preparing himself, without warning, without breathing deeply beforehand. Bucky Barnes pushed you back, to protect you, and did not think twice.

You stood behind him, an arm’s length away from his back, and stared at the window. Frost crept up the sides, taunting you with the unknown, before something cracked.

Not the window.

A line.

“Shit!” a man screamed from outside. A whoosh of wind caught up to his scream’s echo, then the culprit landed on the fire escape. With his gun steady, Bucky rushed to open the window.

“Clint?”

“Hey, man,” Clint groaned, rolling over onto his back. Gripping his torso, Clint struggled to stand as his lips spread into a sheepish smile. “How’s your day been?”

“Fucking chipper,” Bucky remarked, his expression hard. “Care to explain?”

“Uh, it was actually my idea,” a female voice echoed. Natasha shimmied down, still perfectly attached to her rope. Unhooking herself, she offered the same embarrassed smile as Clint. “I forgot to hook him.”

“She was trying to kill me,” Clint retaliated.

“Oh, hush. You’ve fallen a dozen times, you’ll live.”

Clint angled his head at her, offended.

“What. Are. You. Doing. Here?” Bucky questioned, his voice dangerously low. Never had you heard that voice from the man. It was the sweet side of him you were familiar with. Not even when he was bored, annoyed, or the slightest bit angry with you did his voice hit that low of an octave.

“Steve sort of—”

Before Clint could even finish his answer, Bucky pulled back from the window and stomped to the other side of the room. Probably to keep himself from wringing Clint’s neck.

“I told him,” Bucky interrupted, his lips drawing back in a snarl. He wasn’t angry—he was furious. Bucky Barnes had basically been told that his bestest friend in the entire world did not trust his own word. “That I knew her. That I’ve been seeing her for a while now. That she has not hurt me, has not tried to mess with my head, has not fished for Avenger information. She is my friend. And he sent you after me because he didn’t trust me when I said that?”

Natasha squared her shoulders. “You had not left the compound in months. This was… Changed attitude. Steve was just—”

“Even she has told him, a million times, that she is my friend.”

Natasha opened her mouth to say more, but it was obvious she had nothing. If Steve held worries, then Natasha believed him. In any way he described them, Steve and Natasha were friends before they were teammates. That’s what Bucky had mentioned a week ago when he was describing his own friendship dynamics between him and the group. Natasha believed Steve, and now she realized just how wrong he was.

“We’re sorry,” Natasha said.

“We’re wh—?” Clint began, but Natasha jabbed her elbow into his still sore stomach.

“We’re sorry,” Natasha repeated, shaking her head in guilt. “He really made this whole situation out to be more dangerous than it is.”

Bucky nodded, but it was evident he wasn’t going to forgive that easily.

“Do you want to come in?” you hesitantly asked, stepping out from behind Bucky’s broad back. “It’s cold outside.”

“I could smell those cinnamon cookies from up on the roof,” Clint commented, his smile widening into a true grin.

“No,” Bucky ordered, “Do not let them in here.”

“Your name isn’t on the lease, sir,” you teased, stepping around him. Holding out a hand, you waited for Clint to accept the greeting. “We can spare five minutes, can’t we?”

“Yeah, Barnes! Can’t you spare five minutes?” Clint shot back, reaching out to shake your hand.

“I don’t want to spare five cookies, let alone five minutes.”

You giggled, but understood where he was coming from. “Maybe some other time. Wait there, then. I’ll get you cookies to go.”

“How sweet,” Natasha said, genuine. She eyed Bucky, an unspoken conversation swaying in both their irises. Clint remained on the ledge, one leg inside and one out.

“You got roommates?”

“No,” you answered, packing ten cookies into a plastic container. “But I do have a baseball bat.”

“Nice,” Clint praised, nodding his head. “I can get you a gun.”

“Get me some arrows!” you cheered, suddenly excited. “I’ve always wanted to try archery!”

“Bet? Next time you’re at the compound, come to the training rooms. I can totally hook you up—”

“It’s nice and all that you’re getting along. Trust me, it will make me happy some other time. But I am still angry with you two right now, so we’ll catch up later,” Bucky interrupted, looking down at the floor. Natasha had turned her attention toward the city. “Tell Steve I won’t be coming home tonight.”

Natasha whipped her head around, eyes suddenly full of worry. “Are you sure that’s a good—”

“I feel safe here.”

Your heart leapt miles, bouncing in your throat and inside the confines of your skull. Happy chills spread throughout your body, the whole room. You were sure the other three could sense them.

Bucky Barnes felt safe in the one place you had made your own, called your own. The place you littered with stickers, and scrapbooks, and miniature busts of Greek goddesses. With paintings you bought on the street for ten dollars, with spices occupying every cabinet of your kitchen, with blankets of all shapes and colors. The place you had spent so many lonely nights, with cups of tea and books stacked in your bookcase—this place made Bucky Barnes feel safe.

Pride illuminated your features before you could reel it in, and it was obvious both Clint and Natasha registered it. That Bucky’s words made a delightful impact. And who were they to go against it?

“I’m guessing you want me to phrase it exactly like that when I return?” Natasha insinuated. Bucky nodded his head once, enough of an answer, and shooed them away from the window.

“Wait!” You rushed over with the container of cookies. “Here. It was nice meeting you both. No matter how awkward it was.”

“It was nice meeting you, too,” Natasha replied. That signature smirk lifted that lovely cheek over hers, and she whispered your full name under her breath. Something in her tone let you know that she was merely repeating what you had told her earlier. But that something was hiding a greater element, like she was telling you that you were just a google search away.

Your real name wasn’t on that website. But it was on your bills. On the debit card connected to the account.

Natasha Romanoff wasn’t a threatening woman when it came to other women. That wasn’t in her nature. Women hadn’t hurt her. She uttered this like a warning, that if she could find you online, it meant anyone could.

“Take me up on that offer,” Clint said, taking the container from you. “I’ll gladly teach you the ways of the nimble fingered.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. You waved goodbye as they scaled the wall to the roof.

Counting to three, you finally turned and quickly said, “Bucky, I was only being kind. They’re your friends and I know what they did was out of line, but it’s in my nature to at least offer them some water—”

Bucky Barnes lunged forward, cutting off your unnecessary apology, and wrapped his massive arms around you. Holding you tight, enveloping you in a warmth you hadn’t felt in ages. He squeezed tighter until he was certain he wouldn’t break you in his grasp, and remained there. Holding you for a few seconds longer before his body rejected the closeness. Slowly, he set you down. It wasn’t until then that you realized he had lifted you up.

“Can I stay the night?”

“You can stay the night,” you agreed.

“Can you brush my hair again?”

It was the hope in his blue eyes that had you immediately answering, “I can brush your hair again.”

Then, hesitantly, “Can we share a bed?”

No sound besides your stuttered breath was heard. “We… We can share a bed.”

“With a pillow wall in the middle.”

You sputtered a laugh, lifting a hand to your lips. “With a pillow wall in the middle.”

Bucky’s earlier rage had dwindled to nothing. You were sure he was storing it for later, perhaps when it was time to confront Steve. He closed and locked the window, rubbing his hands together to produce extra heat.

“Don’t offer my cookies to other people.”

You laughed loudly, falling onto the couch. Bucky watched, his eyes crinkled with joy.

You slept in the same bed that night, the pillow wall constructed perfectly. Two amateur engineers laughing the whole time.

But in the middle of the night, it was impossible to tell if it was nature or your ill math that caused the two of you to spurn those pillows, and spend the night close to each other.

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes/reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x y/n #holiday fanfic #marvel fanfiction #pretty woman au #captainsimagines #by Moni

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