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#first i'm missing some units
raposarealm · 2 years
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Day 5 Defense Team! Since it’s Pocky Day and all, I decided to run Asusasa, because 1) OTP, and 2) I don’t see them around in Mirrors much, especially together.  They lost that match, by the way.
But! Then I decided that, ‘hey, a number of my otps are from Madomagi and/or Magireco, so let’s run some more!’
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For some reason, this shot came out blurry. Dunno what happened. Anyways, my longest-standing OTP, Kyosaya! They won this one, actually, ‘cause Kyoko hits like a damn truck. (They’ve also both got 4 slots, and Kyak’s got 60/100 SE.) 
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And the last of my OTP Dream Teams, Irosana! I thought about slapping Irokuro in too, but I was too lazy to swap out that many memos. So here’s Snaa protecting Iroha, except instead of facing Feathers, she’s facing Yozuru for some reason. They very much lost. Snaa has no SE.
I wish I could’ve run an Nayutan/Rabi team, but of course, I still don’t have Rabi >:( 
Anyways, good luck to everyone in the finals!
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killa-trav · 9 days
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omg happy one week since i get the most disgusting hate anons of my life that was so bad i had to turn anons off!!!
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devilishcupid · 1 year
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CARBON COPY | Miguel O'Hara
☆ premise: trying to find miles morales in earth-42, he encounters you. or at least, a version of you.
☆ pairing: miguel o'hara x fem!alt universe!reader
☆ warnings: across the spiderverse spoilers, pregnant!reader, clueless!reader, angst, hurt no comfort, miguel's pov, some swearing
☆ a/n: oh my god. across the spiderverse is literally a masterpiece. into the spiderverse already is, but the spiderverse team said, "we can do better." they didn't have to, but they did.
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"Do you really think this is a good idea?" Jessica asked through the commlink. "This is risky, even by your standards."
"It doesn't matter. The quicker we find Miles, the quicker we get out of here." Miguel muttered into his earpiece as he walked through the busy streets of Earth-42's New York.
"Yes, but blending in? For all we know, a version of us exists here."
"Which is why you need to stop talking and start looking, Jess." Miguel hissed a little too loud, earning looks from a few passerbys. He winced. Jessica had a point. If a version of them did exist in this universe, it would be best not to bring attention to themselves.
"Miguel!"
And... that was now thrown out of the window. Cursing under his breath, he turned around reluctantly to face the person who called him—only to find that it was you.
His eyes widened, and his lips parted at the sight of you. Never in a million years did he expect to see her again. But here you were, the absolute spitting image of her. Your clothes were exactly the same things she would wear, your hair and makeup done the same way.
Finding different versions of people in different universes was not uncommon. There's literally a society uniting the different universes' own Spider-people, for God's sake. But Miguel didn't expect this. He didn't expect a carbon copy of his dead wife on a universe where Spider-Man did not exist.
He should've said he wasn't Miguel, that you were mistaking him for someone else. Hell, he shouldn't have stopped and turned around in the first place. He didn't know what came over him, but in a second, he had his arms wrapped around your body.
"Miguel, hon, are you okay?" You asked, your voice laced with surprise and concern. You had no clue that the man who was hugging you was not your husband. At least, not your husband in this universe.
Miguel grunted in response, his ability to string words together to form a sentence rendered broken by your presence. He squeezed you tighter. He couldn't believe he was holding you in his arms.
You weren't the same woman he fell in love with. He knows this. But he couldn't help himself. You looked exactly like her. Felt exactly like her. Sounded exactly like her. Shit, you even smelled like her.
"Damn it, Miguel, keep it together! She's not your wife!"
Hearing Jess' voice snapped Miguel out of his stupor. Remembering his mission, why he was there in the first place, he pulled away from you. He didn't want to. He wanted to hold you longer. But he knew that if he did, he wouldn't have been able to stop.
"Honey, what's wrong?" You asked, cupping his face in your hands. God, how he missed feeling the warmth of your palms. "You're acting weird."
"I'm fine, sweetheart." He gave you a small smile, his hands wrapping around yours and his lips pressing a kiss on each of your wrists. "I just missed you, that's all."
You laughed. "What are you talking about? You saw me this morning."
Miguel could only chuckle in an attempt to hide his sadness. What was only hours for you was months for him. "Right. I did."
"Are you sure you're okay, though?" You asked again, eyebrows furrowing and the corners of your lips downturned.
"Don't worry about it, darling. I am."
He wasn't. But you didn't need to know that. You didn't need to know that in another universe, the two of you were married. You didn't need to know that you had a daughter together. You didn't need to know that he loved you and your daughter more than life itself, only for him to lose you both.
"Listen, I have to go. I'm having lunch with a friend. But I'll see you later at Doctor Nguyen's, okay?" You placed your hands on your stomach, a smile forming on your face. "I can't wait to see her again."
Miguel swallowed the lump in his throat before forcing himself to smile. Only now he noticed the bump on your stomach, carrying a different Miguel's Gabriella. "Yeah, me too."
With a kiss goodbye on his cheek, you walked away, blissfully unaware that he was not your Miguel. He watched as you disappeared around the corner, knowing it was the first and last time he was ever going to see you again.
But that didn't matter. He'll find Miles. He'll make sure the canon isn't destroyed. He'll make sure another version of himself wouldn't have to suffer the loss of his family the same way he did. He'll make sure you and your kid were safe.
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headspace-hotel · 14 days
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There was this post a while ago where somebody was saying that Cheetahs aren't well suited to Africa and would do well in Midwestern North America, and it reminded me of Paul S. Martin, the guy I'm always pissed off about.
He had some good ideas, but he is most importantly responsible for the overkill hypothesis (idea that humans caused the end-Pleistocene extinctions and that climate was minimally a factor) which led to the idea of Pleistocene rewilding.
...Basically this guy thought we should introduce lions, cheetahs, camels, and other animals to North America to "rewild" the landscape to what it was like pre-human habitation, and was a major advocate for re-creating mammoths.
Why am I pissed off about him? Well he denied that there were humans in North America prior to the Clovis culture, which it's pretty well established now that there were pre-Clovis inhabitants, and in general promoted the idea that the earliest inhabitants of North America exterminated the ecosystem through destructive and greedy practices...
...which has become "common knowledge" and used as evidence for anyone who wants to argue that Native Americans are "Not So Innocent, Actually" and the mass slaughter and ecosystem devastation caused by colonialism was just what humans naturally do when encountering a new environment, instead of a genocidal campaign to destroy pre-existing ways of life and brutally exploit the resources of the land.
It basically gives the impression that the exploitative and destructive relationship to land is "human nature" and normal, which erases every culture that defies this characterization, and also erases the way indigenous people are important to ecosystems, and promotes the idea of "empty" human-less ecosystems as the natural "wild" state.
And also Martin viewed the Americas' fauna as essentially impoverished, broken and incomplete, compared with Africa which has much more species of large mammals, which is glossing over the uniqueness of North American ecosystems and the uniqueness of each species, such as how important keystone species like bison and wolves are.
It's also ignoring the taxa and biomes that ARE extraordinarily diverse in North America, for example the Appalachian Mountains are one of the most biodiverse temperate forests on Earth, the Southeastern United States has the Earth's most biodiverse freshwater ecosystems, and both of these areas are also a major global hotspot for amphibian biodiversity and lichen biodiversity. Large mammals aren't automatically the most important. With South America, well...the Amazon Rainforest, the Brazilian Cerrado and the Pantanal wetlands are basically THE biodiversity hotspot of EVERYTHING excepting large mammals.
It's not HIM I have a problem with per se. It's the way his ideas have become so widely distributed in pop culture and given people a muddled and warped idea of ecology.
If people think North America was essentially a broken ecosystem missing tons of key animals 500 years ago, they won't recognize how harmful colonization was to the ecosystem or the importance of fixing the harm. Who cares if bison are a keystone species, North America won't be "fixed" until we bring back camels and cheetahs...right?
And by the way, there never were "cheetahs" in North America, Miracinonyx was a different genus and was more similar to cougars than cheetahs, and didn't have the hunting strategy of cheetahs, so putting African cheetahs in North America wouldn't "rewild" anything.
Also people think its a good idea to bring back mammoths, which is...no. First of all, it wouldn't be "bringing back mammoths," it would be genetically engineering extant elephants to express some mammoth genes that code for key traits, and second of all, the ecosystem that contained them doesn't exist anymore, and ultimately it would be really cruel to do this with an intelligent, social animal. The technology that would be used for this is much better used to "bring back" genetic diversity that has been lost from extant critically endangered species.
I think mustangs should get to stay in North America, they're already here and they are very culturally important to indigenous groups. And I think it's pretty rad that Scimitar-horned Oryx were brought back in their native habitat only because there was a population of them in Texas. But we desperately, DESPERATELY need to re-wild bison, wolves, elk, and cougars across most of their former range before we can think about introducing camels.
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jen-with-a-pen · 3 months
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𝗙𝗜𝗟𝗧𝗛𝗬, 𝗜𝗠𝗣𝗘𝗧𝗨𝗢𝗨𝗦 𝗦𝗢𝗨𝗟𝗦
summary: After what you assumed would be a successful mission, things veer off-course and you're stuck with Bucky Barnes in Istanbul with no way out until morning. The tension between you comes to head and nothing will be the same again.
parings: Protective!Avenger!Bucky Barnes x Sniper!Agent!Curvy!F!Reader
word count: 6.5K
warnings: enemies to lovers, angst, canon-level violence with just a bit more blood, guns, reader is a sniper/sharp-shooter, hate-making out, degradation, fighting, insults and cursing, teasing/banter, reader and bucky don't know how to talk about their feelings (or to eachother), spanking, doggy, angry-horny, rough-ish sex, pent up anger, pent up sexual tension, power dynamics, protective!Bucky, vague hinting to Bucky's PTSD, no use of y/n, reader is tagged as curvy and is described as such but body description is kept to a minimum
a/n: this work is for @targaryenvampireslayer's Blind Date Writing Challenge! My prompts were "enemies to lovers" and "Again! Please, again!" I am incredibly thankful to Suz for letting me participate. I haven't been able to participate in a challenge since forever ago 😅 ALSO! This is my first time writing enemies to lovers, as well as curvy!reader! even though i'm curvy myself, i hope i did okay ♥ This work is not beta-read. all mistakes are my own. If any mistake is glaringly obvious, please feel free to message me and let me know! p.s. I listened to a lot of PVRIS + Nothing But Thieves writing this, can ya tell? p.p.s. the amount of willpower and struggle with my muse it took to finish this is... a lot. i think she scratched my cornea at some point.
If I’ve missed any tags, PLEASE let me know!
gif by @unearthlydust | dividers by @cafekitsune | warning banner by me ♥
my ao3 | my masterlist title from: You Know Me Too Well by Nothing But Thieves Read this fic HERE on ao3! ♥Reblogs and comments are highly appreciated as always♥
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𝙥𝙧𝙤𝙡𝙤𝙜𝙪𝙚
Bucky Barnes has always hated you, and you have always hated Bucky Barnes. At least since you first met, that is. 
Being the newest recruit– and only sharp-shooter–  to grace the S.H.I.E.L.D. Direct Action Team’s roster since signing on the Sergeant James “Bucky” Barnes, the hostility was almost immediate from the second you walked in your first day. 
You couldn’t help cringing– which would be quickly followed by raging annoyance and a slight migraine– without remembering your first time training with Bucky. He made it crystal clear he didn’t trust your previous experience or trainers, let alone your sniper training. Within the first week he ground your spirit into dust with his leather combat boots, quashing any attempts to defend yourself. And it’s not like you weren’t familiar with his history, either; he’d broken every single last sharp-shooter that came to the team before you, a hardass ex-assassin with an introverted mean streak who happened one of the top snipers in the United States Army during World War II. Old dogs certainly can learn new tricks, though, and it was extremely apparent when it came to Bucky Barnes.
When you finally had enough midway through the third week, you snapped at him after he corrected you for the umpteenth time on your foot positioning, pointedly informing him you weren’t built like you could take on a goddamned semi-truck with one hand.
Once you finished, he silently handed you a pistol and challenged you to a shoot off. One-handed. You considered it a tie. Tony considered the training range off-limits until he got government permission via S.H.I.E.L.D. to replace every single shooting target and torso dummy in the compound– including the extras.
After that, the two of you weren’t allowed in the gym, on the same mode of transportation, in the infirmary, or the training range without someone else to supervise with a tranquilizer gun at the ready and within arm’s reach of said supervisor. More often than not, though, the ‘someone else’ was either Steve or Natasha– depending who won the coin toss before training that day– and the tranquilizer gun wasn’t really more of a tranquilizer gun than it was a slight sedative to calm each of you down enough for either Steve, or Nat, to drag you out without kicking and screaming at each other. Granted, it only happened one time– a workout competition-turned-sparring match that lasted the better part of four hours– but everyone else agreed to keep it around. Just in case.
You learned, however, exactly how much ketamine it took to down a raging super soldier with a vibranium arm. You couldn’t help but make horse whinnies under your breath every time you passed Bucky in the compound for at least a week. 
With a year of domestic missions underneath your belt, S.H.I.E.L.D. constituted you ready to travel with the DA Team on international missions and operations. You were elated, excited to prove your worth and wit to everyone; especially Bucky, because maybe then he’d be at least keen enough to start showing you a drop of respect.  
Then there was the fallout of when you both learned you’d be sent on the next mission. Together. Albeit with Natasha and Clint– but together. 
Fury said he didn’t have a choice. Tony claimed it was out of his hands. Natasha, while protecting a cowering Steve from the flames and daggers shooting out of yours and Bucky’s glares, flat out told you, “either you both learn to work together, or neither of you are working DA missions again,” adding, with gritted teeth and a pinched bridge, “The whole team thinks you’re a fucking pair of walking time bombs. I don’t wanna use the damn ketamine gun again.”
The next thing you knew, you were on a plane to Turkey with your rifle, wits, and the waiting promise of separate hotel rooms upon arrival. 
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A reddened sun dipped over the Istanbul skyline, swathing the city in shadows. Dusk was imminent as you ascended the rusted fire escape and stepped onto the roof of the abandoned building; the dilapidated outside was perfect enough to designate it as the main stake out location. You sighed in awe at the view, catching the remnants of the sunset while pausing for a brief break before switching into ‘work mode.’ 
“Stop fuckin’ around, get into position,” Bucky said through your ear piece. Shit. You forgot he could see your video feed via the harness crossing over your chest and the cameras Natasha set up on the roof and the building next door. 
“Sorry, Sarge, thought I’d enjoy the view before I dome some fuckin’ war criminal from a thousand yards away,” you huffed. The line went silent, save from what sounded like very faint cursing amidst the static. You rolled your eyes, swinging the gun bag off your back, unpacking and assembling and loading, preparing for working on yet another thrilling Saturday night.
You silently prayed the hotel had a decent bar with decent hours.
Dropping into a prone position, you were thankful for the custom-fit tac suit that hugged your body as your hips and thighs scraped against debris littering the roof as you positioned the scope of your rifle, placing your hand delicately on the trigger. 
“In position,” you muttered, adjusting into a more comfortable, ready-to-bail position in case things went south. When you shot prone, it felt as if the mission at hand weighed just a bit heavier than others. More unbearable. The tactical suit and additional weapons attached to your aching body rivaled that of cinder blocks chained to your legs, weighing you down to the ocean floor in an attempted drowning while you tried to stay above water.
It's never gotten easier, but it's never been harder. 
The past two days had been filled with inconsistent sleep, hiding out, and keeping watch, all while under the watchful eye of Bucky. Bucky, who was watching you from inside the stakeout building, who threw a super soldier temper tantrum about having to figure out the ‘nonsensical logistics’ of how to stream a fucking live video feed, who barely bothered to say a word to you while meeting Natasha at the location that morning– aside from graciously allowing you to borrow his weapons cleaning kit. 
“You didn’t bring your own?” He cocked a judgmental brow at you, looking you up and down like a creature that crawled out of the Black Lagoon. Steely sea-blue eyes met yours, sharp and bright. Challenging. The collar of your tactical suit had instantly tightened.
“Figured we both use the same stuff, might as well bring the one to save space,” you shrugged, cocking a hip. 
Bucky’s eyes flitted to your pronounced curve before you straightened, swallowing. 
“Fine. Go nuts,” he sighed reluctantly, gesturing for you to sit in the guarded seat across from him. You sensed his piercing gaze follow you, feeling the same heat creep up your neck and cheeks just like all the other times he watched you. You chocked it up to an intimidation tactic, because it sure as hell worked.
You shook Bucky out of your brain. You needed to stay focused.  
“Copy. Target is en route to position, t-minus two minutes. Make it clean and make it quick.” Natasha's voice was cool, calming you and the usual racing thoughts in your head during these types of missions. You preferred her over anyone else to be your spotter since your first time out in the field, but this time she was assigned to be the plant, luring the target away from the rather innocent party-goers so they wouldn’t be splattered with brain matter and skull fragments courtesy of you.
Though, you had to admit, in the right scenarios, that was one of the more satisfying things that came with being a sniper.
“Don’t fuckin’ rush it,” Bucky chimed in.
You rolled your eyes, ignoring him. “Copy, Nat, just keep dangling the carrot.”
“You know I’ll do more than that. Out.” You could hear her wink. 
Two minutes might not seem like much, but missions like these can make it feel like a lifetime. Part of you hoped Bucky watched every second. The other half hoped you could smack the doubtful smirk off his stubble-ridden face– the same exact one he had whenever he watched you train. It was like he wanted you to fail. Like he was expecting it, anticipating it. 
You pinched your wrist. Now was not the fucking time. 
You brought the scope closer to your face, targeting the window Natasha would be bringing the target in front of. The crosshairs helped even out the scene while you lined up the shot right between the bedroom’s curtains. You readied yourself, focusing on breathing and controlling the rise and fall of your chest, steadying your bottom half. You blinked, then, and through the sights you spotted the golden shimmer of Natasha’s dress reflecting off the room’s low lighting. Finger on the trigger, delicately squeezing as the target’s head entered into the crosshairs, stepping unknowingly into the middle of your aim, mere seconds left to live, left until he rots in his deserved place in hell. 
Exhale. Inhale. Hold. Pull.
The target dropped in mere milliseconds as the shot reverberated throughout your body, the sound thankfully muffled by your ear pieces and the silencer. The recoil of the rifle dug into your shoulder, fighting against the rest of your body anchored by stiffened muscles. You exhaled, shaky, still, pushing the scope from your face and resting your head on the cool metal of the stock, allowing it to sear into your burning forehead.
“Confirmed kill. Target down. Meet you back at the hotel, over,” Natasha’s breathless voice crackled into your ear. 
“Copy. On my way down. Bucky do you–”
White hot pain suddenly seared through the back of your skull, slamming you face-first into your rifle. You clutched the back of your head, whipping around to be greeted by the dark void of a gun barrel. You froze, blood draining from your face, stomach free-falling as your gaze traveled up to meet crazed eyes and a twisted face. The man– your assaulter– was clad in black with hints of a tattoo running up his neck like blackened veins. No doubt the symbols hidden under his collar belonged to the syndicate run by his boss. The boss you just killed.
He snarled, yellowed teeth glistening in a maniacal grin. “You’re going to pay for that, little bitch,” he spat and nodded to your rifle as he shoved the barrel in your face. The metal practically branded you like marking a cattle for slaughter.
“Try me, prick,” you gritted through ringing pain and a locked jaw, snarling at the man as you rose, slowly, the barrel unmoving as the gun followed your position.
His grin widened. He began pushing you backwards towards the edge of the roof. Quickly, you kicked your foot out, catching his ankle and grabbing his wrist, pointing the gun at the darkened sky as you clawed at his fingers to release it from his grasp. A deafening shot rang out as you wrestled, sending an elbow straight into your jaw that shoved you away. He aimed for you again as you pulled a knife from your waistband, hurling it at any limb you could hit. It nailed him in his thigh, deep enough you knew it hit bone. He dropped the pistol in favor of his leg, allowing you enough of a break to kick the gun off the roof, sliding it off the opposite edge and down the fire escape.
You stood. You noticed the flicker, the fire, in the man’s eyes as it raged, burning brighter than the streetlights below. He yelled as he lunged, knocking you down again. Hard. Lungs deflated, pain seared through your spine, leaving you sputtering and gasping, grasping desperately for anything: his arms, his legs, your knife, your knife in his leg. Your head spun from the impact, rage and bile boiling in your stomach as arms and legs kicked and thrashed. The man grabbed you by your hair as if to scalp you, limping his way to the edge of the roof, dragging you along inch by inch. You deadened, going limp, hoping to make it that much harder for him to drag you with a knife in his fucking femur. Your stomach dropped as the wind picked up and the distance from the fire escape grew farther away. You knew what was in store: a five-story drop onto the hard street below. 
With impressive strength for a man who was actively bleeding out– and bleeding all over you– he swung you around by the fistful of hair in his hands, dangling your bottom half off the edge of the roof. You fought the panic beginning to set in, thrashing your feet around in an attempt to find some sort of foothold as your hands scrambled to grip the ledge. To add insult to injury, he slammed your head down, skull and jaw dropping with a dizzying thump. A gruff laugh erupted from his chest, and he spat at you. You glanced hesitantly over your shoulder. The world stretched and morphed the longer you looked; your eyes saw a fifty-foot drop while your brain saw a thousand foot death sentence. You willed your sore neck to turn back to the man, only to fight the scream that bubbled up your throat at the sight of a miniature pistol pointed execution-style at you. You ceased any movement, eyes widening, grip tightening on the inch-thick ledge of the roof that held you from becoming a human pancake.
“Looks like you’ll pay after all, bitch!” He grinned, cocking the pistol and preparing to fire. As he squeezed the trigger, as you squeezed your eyes shut, there’s a muffled shot, and then a warm, oozing feeling running down your face and neck. Hesitantly, you opened your eyes, greeted by the sight of the man’s jaw slackened as his eyes began to roll back in his skull. A singular bullet wound centered on his forehead leaked brain and blood and bits of bone. He’s shoved over, body falling like a rag doll and spilling onto the roof. He’s quickly replaced by a seething, panting Bucky with a pistol pointed where your would-be-killer stood. Your eyes widened as your chest constricted, fingertips grinding against the edge as your arms burned and begged to be pulled to solid ground. He lowers the gun, lips parted, eyes boring into your soul like he’s seen a ghost. 
“Sar–Bucky, I’m fuckin’ slipping here!” you yelled as your left hand began to give way to gravity. The entirely reasonable request seemed to piss him off even more as he cursed, dropping his gun and grabbing harshly onto your arms, yanking you back up. He dropped you onto the roof in a heap. While your muscles screamed and you hacked up your lungs trying to regain normal oxygen levels, the annoyance you harbored for Bucky returned just as quickly as the gratefulness you had for his rescue faded once he turned his back on you, heading to the fire escape. 
“Thanks, Bucky, but Jesus fucking–”
He whipped around, blue eyes flashing crimson– a warning sign to choose your next words extremely carefully. 
“Clean up n’ get the fuck down. I’m leaving with or without you in ten fucking minutes,” he seethed, fists clenching onto the fire escape bars. You winced at the groaning sound the metal emitted as he bent it out of place, imprinting his palm prints into the bars.
“Bucky, I– What do–” you stuttered. Thoughts were racing as you looked between him and your would-be murderer decaying in his own drying blood a few feet away. You looked back at him. His eyes, swimming with something unrecognizable, mixed with fear and anger plaguing his features– like he remembered something so vivid, so real, that he was reliving it again.
“Just,” he turns his back to you, voice shaking, “get down here.”
He disappeared, leaving you to clean up the mess.
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The back alleyway was lit with a single, softly glowing flood light that led out to the busy streets. Bucky, who was already waiting for you with a furiously tapping foot, surveilled you with a stuck-snarling lip as you jumped down from the fire escape. The gilded plates in his hand leading up under his sleeve glinted with the violet-tinted vibranium. 
There's a moment, a beat, shared between you as you stood to look at him. You stared at one another, gazes unwavering and refusing to break, to blink. The shadows surrounding you began to move as if they were dancing on Bucky's face, sharpening his jaw, his features. He stayed on you, eyes flitting ever-so-slightly over your form. 
Your face burned.
Bucky cleared his throat. “Take a fuckin’ picture why don’t ya?” 
You rolled your eyes. “Could say th’same for you.” 
He grumbled something– probably cursing you– under his breath. As he opened his mouth to hurl an insult your way, both your phones pinged.
♦ Natasha: Taking last flight out of IST. Jet coming early AM. Lay low. Don’t kill each other. Please. Talk soon.
You swallowed a groan. 
“Fuckin’ great,” Bucky muttered, loud enough for you to hear. 
“Uh, okay. Fuck you, too, then,” you shot at him defensively. Knee-jerk reaction. Pinching the bridge of your nose and kicking yourself, you dropped the subject. Not the fight you wanted to pick at that moment. “Let’s– let's just call a cab and get to the hotel.”
“No. I have a bike. And we’re going to a safehouse.”
“Bucky, it's dark enough, my bag is–”
Suddenly, he was much closer than a mere second before, backing you up against the wall of the stakeout building. He beat you in height by a decent amount, but him towering over you really put it in perspective. His broad shoulders heaved, vibranium arm whirring in overdrive as he jabbed a plated finger at you, his face inches from yours. 
“I. Don't. Fucking. Care,” he stabbed each word into your sternum. “Bike’s down at the other end of the block. We're taking it, or you can fuckin’ walk. Doesn't matter to me.” 
You wanted to take his finger and break it.  
You glared, focus shifting between his startlingly bright blue eyes and the strange closeness of his face to yours. It was like you were seeing him– like, actually seeing him– for the first time in high definition. All of his details– the small scars by his hairline, the slight crookedness of his nose, crow’s feet and worry lines beginning to etch themselves into his skin, the indent between his brows– overwhelmed you as your eyes darted all over his face. You snapped back to his glare and were suddenly very conscious of your own facial expression that failed to rival his. You set your jaw and furrowed your brow.
You doubted it was convincing.
“Fine.” 
He stepped back and started striding down the alleyway with you at his heels. Your grip on the straps of the gun bag burned your palms as you tried to keep up with Bucky’s annoyingly long strides. At the intersection between the main street and two shops sat a garage; it appeared closed for the night, but was still open to Bucky, apparently, who pulled a key out from under an unsuspecting plant. He unlocked the large metal door, lifting it to reveal a tiny space that was barely big enough to house the large motorcycle and a workbench scattered with parts and tools. He strolled in like he owned the place and grabbed one of the helmets hanging off the motorcycle’s handles, handing it to you with an outstretched arm as he saddled himself onto the bike. You looked from him to the helmet, mouth agape and brow arched in confusion. 
When you didn’t take it, he rolled his eyes and shook it at you.
“C’mon, we don’t have all night.”
“When the hell did you–”
“I’ve got my ways. Now c’mon, put the damn helmet on,” he huffed, leaning back on the seat. His thick thighs clenched and straddled the gunmetal-body of the motorcycle. You held back the shiver that ran up your back as you crossed your arms, hip cocking out in defiance. In the briefest of pauses, Bucky stilled, and you swore you caught his eyes scanning down your body, your curves and full figure, before snapping back up to meet yours. He scoffed, smirking to himself and shaking his head.
“The fuck are you laughin’ at?” Your face turned hot, prompting your arms to hug tighter over your chest. You felt off balance. 
He said nothing and tossed the helmet to you. Your arms uncrossed and reacted much faster than your brain did as you barely caught it, slipping it on. Pointedly sighing, you relented and climbed onto the bike as Bucky put his own helmet on, sliding the visor down. In the shortly-live silence, your breathing echoed his, the air weighing heavy with anticipation. You were suddenly hyper-aware of every single little touch, every tiny movement made, every breath taken– like a bucket of ice water getting splashed on you, you were present for what felt like the first time that night.
The bike roared to life and Bucky leaned forward to fit his body closer to the handles. 
“Might wanna hang on,” he yelled over the noise. You hesitated, probably for a second too long for Bucky’s liking as he looked behind you and rolled his eyes (you knew he did, even behind the stupid visor.) He reached behind his back and grabbed your wrist, pulling you against him and wrapping your arm around his waist. Your free arm followed suit, tightly embracing him, heart pounding in your chest at the sudden act. You lurched forward as he rode out of the garage and began down the street; the location was a mystery to you, other than you knew it was one of the regular S.H.I.E.L.D. approved safehouses in Istanbul.
Weaving through the other bikes and cars, you couldn’t help but lean closer into Bucky, watching the lights and sights pass by in a blur. Fingers fanned over his abdomen as you held on, feeling the firm leather tac jacket against your skin– which became firmer upon pressing into him and feeling like you were palming a brick wall. Knees fit together at the sides of the bike, shifting ever-so-slightly whenever he braked or shifted. Worst of all, as you hugged your chest into his back, you had a front-row seat in viewing the way his broad shoulders twisted with laser-like precision as he drove.
It took every ounce of energy not to let go and fall off the bike. 
‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗‗
The four-flight trudge up to the safehouse– more like safeapartment, actually– was a miserable one, especially with twenty pounds worth of gear on your back and a highly impatient super soldier on your ass telling you to “hurry the fuck up.”
“Again: ‘m not built like a fuckin’ freight train, here, Bucky,” you panted as your legs struggled in rounding the fourth and final landing. He didn’t bother to wait for you, instead turning wordlessly off the landing, heading down the hallway to the door with the keys jingling against his vibranium hand. You caught up to him, standing awkwardly off to the side as he fumbled with the sticky lock, and you couldn’t help but watch the way his hands moved. The way the vibranium prosthetic moved as fluidly as his flesh and bone, the way the plates glinted in the dimly lit hallway, the way his fingers seemed to have a mind of their own. 
Bucky swung the door open, pulling you out of your trance. He flicked on a light switch to reveal a small apartment complete with a cramped living room, couch, small T.V., and an open kitchen in the back. A hallway diverted off to the left, presumably to the bathroom and–
“It’s a one bedroom,” Bucky muttered, stepping into the apartment. You looked at him incredulously. 
“You– you’re kidding, right?” you asked, closing the door behind you and dropping your bag off to the side. 
“No. Why would I?” Bucky turned to you, cocking a brow with hands set on his hips, revealing his undone tac jacket and the tightest fucking dry-fit shirt underneath. It was practically a second skin, hugging against his abs you felt earlier. You stared slack-jawed at him like he didn’t just hear himself speak.
“Because there’s only one fucking bed?” 
“Yeah. And I’m taking it. You get couch duty,” he stated matter-of-factly. His crooked smirk prodded at your nerves.
You scoffed and mirrored his stance. “What? No! I did the work today, you sat around and just… watched.”
His face hardened. “I sat and just… watched?” he repeated, tone challenging you as he took a step forward. 
You swallowed. “You heard me.”
One second, you were ready to hurl another choice word at Bucky. The next, you were slammed against the back of the door. Hard. 
Bucky had rushed you, grabbing your arms with bruising force and forcing them up, pinning your wrists on either side of your head. You yelled in protest, failing to squirm out of the cage that was his body. 
“Look at me right fuckin’ now,” he demanded, lips curling into a snarl and bared teeth. His voice turned, a complete 180. Dominating, commanding, enraging. When you didn’t obey instantly, he slammed your wrists against the door again.
“Look at me!” 
“No! Fuck– Get off me!” 
With your feet still free, you started kicking him, eliciting what sounded like a growl that rumbled from deep within his chest. Bucky passed your wrist in his metal hand off to his flesh one, pinning both hands above your head while shoving a thick thigh between both of yours– right against your core. An uncontrollable yelp escaped from you as he pushed. Heat pooled in your lower stomach, and it took every bit of control to stop yourself from clenching your thighs together automatically. The fire Bucky ignited only grew, imaginary flames roaring in your stomach and racing up your limbs. His prosthetic hand snaked up your neck and squeezed your chin, squishing your cheeks and lips, forcing your eyes to him.
You felt lightheaded. Bucky– fuck, nobody– ever grabbed you like that; like you belonged to them. To him.
“You’re gonna listen to me, and listen good,” he shook your face, “I saved your fuckin’ life tonight, ‘member? When you were defenseless and as good as fuckin’ dead on that roof? You made me shoot that piece of shit point blank. You made me almost shoot you.” 
His voice shook and he looked away, biting his lip then coming back to you. “I fuckin’ saved your life when you should’ve saved your own. If it’d been any later– if I’d been a second later–” He steadied a breath, shaking his head and scoffing a laugh. He focused back on you with wildly electric blues. “I saved your life. Therefore, I get the goddamned bed tonight. Got it?”
You stared at him for a second longer before nodding gently. The energy building between you was enough to burn the entire building down if someone lit a cigarette. A smirk slowly bloomed across your lips. He released your chin, hand sinking down to rest against your collarbone. 
“Is that all, Sergeant?” 
His Adam's apple bobbed.
“What did you just call me?” he whispered, sliding a vibranium palm around the column of your neck, plated fingers resting on your pulse point. He twitched. Inches.
“You heard me.” 
The air, thick in the apartment, felt charged. 
“Needja t’say it again. Can’t hear too well,” he slurred, licking his lips. Eyelids fluttering, hands squeezing. Centimeters.
“Whatever you say,” you lilted. Millimeters. “Sergeant.”
Lightning struck. Everything ignited, setting fire to both of you as Bucky’s lips seared into yours. Hard, sloppy, desperate as tongue and teeth swapped secrets like old friends. He was unexplored territory, yet he felt so familiar. His prosthetic slowly relented the grip on your wrists, dropping to your shoulder, sliding down your chest where he greedily groped and slid over every last peak and dip of your body: tits screaming for release from your suit; hips jerking in short bursts at his every movement. He grabbed your ass and pulled you closer, forcing your thick thighs to spread wider as his own pushed further against your arousal.
“Been–” Bucky smacked your lips, kissing hungrily across your cheek and biting down your neck, “Shit– Been wanting this so– long, fuck–” He pressed into you, his cock harder a gun in his waistband. You couldn’t hold onto the intensely lust-filled moan that spilled from your throat much longer. Bucky grinned against your neck, lapping and sucking and marking your skin like he owned you. Like he could do whatever he wanted to you. 
And you let him.
“Gotta get this shit off you,” Bucky mumbled into your neck as he shed his own jacket, face not leaving your skin. Rough hands grabbed onto you and ripped away the buckles and buttons of the jacket that kept your body from him. A deep groan rumbled inside his chest as he threw the top half of your suit to the side, drinking in the beautiful sight of your body, hugged in all the right places by the cami that was riding up your stomach while your tits gasped for air, spilling out, fighting against your sports bra.
“Holy–fuck, holy shit.” 
Bucky Barnes was speechless. And you were the reason why. 
He stopped as your wrists came down from above your head and fell down your frame. 
“God, you’re fuckin’ beautiful.”
Your heart stopped.
“You’re telling me.”
Another charge surged and you threw yourself at Bucky, sending both of you stumbling through the living room. Hands grasped and groped. Fingers busied themselves with removing clothing, undoing pants to throw one way and stripping shirts to toss another. You were magnetized to him, carding through his cropped chocolate hair, hooking your arms behind his neck– which was still bare and practically begging you to mark it in every way you knew. Stumbling over an end table, knocking into the wall that led down the hallway, dragging one another to the bedroom only to pause when you whined at Bucky to shut the door. 
Both of you were near-naked, relishing in each other’s skin by the time you made it to the bed, falling on it with him on top of you in a heap. Bucky hiked you further up the bed, dropping you onto the several pillows that made it feel like Cloud 9. You looked up at him straddling your hips with legs that seemed to spread wider the further down he sat. Eyelids fluttered while your pupils adjusted to the dark bedroom. What lay before was a scene out of your wildest fantasy. 
Bucky sat back on his hips, hair spiking out in wild tufts, cock aching to break free from the confines of his briefs as he stared back at you hungrily. His tongue jutted out to wet his lips, dragging the bottom half back into his teeth while his lust-blown pupils trained directly on you. You truly hadn’t registered the god-like, sculpturesque muscles leading down his chest and over his rippling abs that finished in a very defined ‘V’ below the waistband of his briefs. The veins bulging in his arm and hand were enough to send you spiraling. Everything before you left you speechless. Wanting. Needing.
Bucky slid painstakingly slow hands over your hips, up your waist, your ribs, slipping curious fingers underneath the hem of your sports bra. He didn’t rip it off like you expected, however. 
He looked at you. Really looked at you. “You–” his Adam’s apple bobbed, “y’know this’ll change everything. Right?” 
You nodded, eager, confident. “Yeah. I– I know.”
“You wanna do this?” He tugged harder.
“Yes.” Another tug. Your tits begged for release. 
“And you… got protection, er–” he hesitated, cocking a brow.
“Pill. I–I’m on the pill,” you breathlessly assured him. You added with a shrug, “I assume you didn’t bring any…”
He scoffed a laugh. “You weren’t exactly on my list of things t’do.”
“Well I hope I’m a top priority, now.”
“Number fuckin’ one.”
The elastic tore as he ripped the fabric, finally releasing your breasts from their constraint. Bucky discarded your ruined bra and turned back to you. His hands gravitated automatically to your chest, kneading, squeezing; thumbs and index fingers on both sides felt around for your nipples and pinched the sensitive buds, eliciting a squeal from you and another rush of arousal flooded your core. 
Bucky hummed while locking his lips onto a pointed peak, mouthing and nipping and sucking. You mewled, running a hand up the back of his head and through his messy hair. His vibranium hand started downwards, sending your senses into overdrive as metal fingers teased the hem of your hipsters that met the crease in your thigh. He released your swollen nipple with a pop.
“Fuck you’re soaked, baby,” he moaned. Tugging your hipsters down your legs, he returned to leaning back on his hips. You’re breathless, panting, melting before him as he palms his thick erection. The girthy, leaking head poked over the waistband, aching to finally meet you. To feel you.
He stripped his briefs off, springing his cock free. You couldn’t tell if the uncontrollable moan that escaped from your lips was because of how mouth-watering he was or the thrilling worry that flooded your mind at the thought (and soon-to-be very real act) of fitting him– all of him– inside you. You glanced at him, catching the way his eyes darkened into something sinister, something hungry and uncontrollable. His jaw hardened as he pumped himself, leaking precum droplets onto your thighs. 
“Get on your fuckin’ stomach,” he commanded. You obeyed, willing to do anything in your power to quell the iron-hot ache that made your pussy throb with want. The second your palms hit the mattress he grabbed you, hands bruising your love handles and ass as he yanked you back to him, shoving your face down into the pillows. With your cheek pressing into the mattress, face squishing into your elbow, all of the oxygen was pulled from your lungs. A beat of silence filled the void between you before a loud SMACK followed by a stinging pain radiating from your ass. 
SMACK. “That was for the back talk.”
SMACK. “That was for scarin’ me t’night.”
SMACK. “And that was for makin’ me have to wait this long to fuck your stubborn ass.” 
Drool dripped from the corner of your mouth and onto the sheets as you chewed your lip, trying (and failing) to dull the harsh, hot pain. Hands gripping your hips, bruising and rough, he yanked you back to meet his front. His cock jammed in between your cheeks as he grinded on you, kneading your ass to mold around him. 
“You’re gonna take me,” he rasped, low and throaty. “All of me.”
You felt him line himself up with your entrance, his girthy head poking and prodding at your entrance. A beat. Hesitation from both of you before he finally snapped forward, plunging into you, filling you, stretching you wider than you could’ve imagined. Once inside, he paused, shifting inside you, cursing breathlessly at the perfect fit. You groaned and desperately shifted your hips in silent hope that Bucky would fucking move. The stretching, the fullness, everything gnawed at your insides that were begging for release. For pleasure. 
“F-fuck Bucky, please–!” He slowly, painfully, rolled his hips in small, dragged-out thrusts before pulling out of you with the most self-control you’d ever see from him and jamming right back into you. 
“Fuck! Again! Please, again!” 
He obeyed you; his hips gradually began to pick up speed, thrusting erratically into you. 
“Gimme your arm,” he gritted between hissed curses. Your brain was on a three-second delay between hearing him and when you started to twist; too slow for Bucky’s liking, he growled, bending– and, in turn, stuffing himself until his base scraped your ass– to grab your arm, pinning against your back with a stern hold. The pain, the pleasure, the all-of-it fanned the flames inside you, growing hotter and hotter and threatening to implode. 
“‘M so close, baby, so–” he gasped, “Fuck, where do I–?”
“Back,” you answered, muffled against the sheets. “My back, I– ah!” You clenched around him, locking him in place as the implosion erupted within you. White-hot flashes of intense pleasure shot through your veins like a lethal shock. You screamed. You trembled. You felt the most all-consuming release rock you to your core, all while Bucky drilled into you harder, faster, his own coil on the brink of snapping. His hips began to stutter into you while you rode your high, mewling when it was time to pull from you in a hurry, his fist furiously pumping the last few seconds. A pleasured cry came from his body as hot ropes shot onto you, painting your skin in warm bursts, cum pooling where your spine arced. He groaned. Fist slowing in pumps, he fell onto the covers next to you in a heap as you cautiously lowered your back.
For a minute it was just your labored breathing echoing one another. The smell of sex lingered in the air, the distant sounds of the streets below and within the quiet building were muffled by the walls of the bedroom. It felt like forever before the bed shifted. Bucky stood, fumbling around on the ground for his discarded briefs. Kneeling back onto the bed, you flinched at the suddenly soft touch of fabric as he cleaned you up, wiping your skin until satisfied. He tossed the boxers back onto the ground somewhere unseen, rolling over back to his place next to you. You couldn’t help the smile on your lips, biting it back as you flipped over to look at Bucky, who was already staring at you with a soft smile. 
“Thanks.”
He shrugged in response. “Looks like we both needed it.”
You nodded. “Does this mean ’m still sleeping on the fuckin’ couch?”
“Hm. No, I’ll let you off the hook,” he said, grabbing the covers and pulling them over you both.
“I think I like being off the hook better than being on it.”
“Mhmm, sure,” he hummed. The covers shrouded you as he placed a metal hand on your cheek, rubbing his thumb in soft circles as he pulled you in for another electrifying kiss.
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vivwritesfics · 4 months
Text
(Oh My God) They Were Roommates
Chapter Nine - Cough Cough I'm Sick
Lando Norris and Y/N L/N were teammates. Tension had been between from the minute they started driving together and, when it only got worse, McLaren CEO Zac Brown decides there's only one solution: Have them live together.
1.3K
(idk who sorts out the media stuff so i just said marketing manager)
Series Masterlist
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Here's the thing, it was exactly what it looked like. Max let out a laugh as he looked at the papaya drivers panicked. "Relax," he said quickly and walked out of the driver's room. "I'll meet you both outside."
Y/N and Lando looked at each other as Max shut the door. "Fuck," she whispered as she pulled her clothes back onto her body. She swapped Landos shirt for her own.
Wordlessly, Y/N left his drivers room. She pushed past Max and sped walked out of the track. She was so fucking stupid - this was why they had those rules in the first place!
And now that Max knew, what was going to happen?
She didn't sleep that night, anxiety overtaking her. For the first time of the grand prix weekend, Y/N checked her phone. She went onto her private account, went to the for you page (for the memes) and was immediately flooded with pictures of her in Landos hoodie. Fuck, that was right. She was wearing Landos hoodie.
She didn't know if Lando went to the club with Max, but she didn't care. She wrapped her arms around her pillow and tried to get some sleep.
***
They'd been home for two days and they hadn't slept together. It was unusual, but Lando couldn't blame her, especially after what had happened in Spain.
He missed her. Which, this time just a few months ago, would have felt impossible. But he really did miss her, everything about her.
She didn't entirely avoid him, but it felt like she didn't want him anymore. They hadn't properly spoken since the grand prix, almost like they weren't even friends anymore.
Lando kept himself busy. He gamed and streamed a lot, rarely giving himself time to think about the little hole in his heart.
It was an overreaction, Y/N knew. But she was terrified of the consequences that they'd inevitably get. So far, nothing had happened. But that didn't mean it wasn't coming.
The next week was the Canadian grand prix. For every grand prix since they began living together, Y/N and Lando had travelled together. One of them would usually drive to the grand prix, taking it in turns.
This time, though, Y/N travelled alone. She made her own way to the grand prix, over thinking and then sleeping on the flight.
Lando hadn't realised she'd left. He knocked on her bedroom and pushed it open. "Y/N?" He called, but she wasn't there, already on her way to Canada.
Obviously, Y/N arrived before him. She’d slept on the flight, sure, but she still made her way to her bedroom for a nap. Exhaustion gripped her as she got under the blankets and closed her eyes, still in her travelling clothes.
When Y/N woke up, there was insistent knocking on her hotel room door. “Fine, alright!” She shouted, her voice croaky. Her throat killed as she pulled open the door and came face to face with the McLaren marketing manager. “Hey,” Y/N said, rubbing at her eyes.
“You’re meant to be doing media things with Lando,” the marketing manager said quickly.
“Fuck,” she whispered under her breath and checked the time on her phone. Had she really been asleep for that long? “Okay, I’ll get dressed.”
She shut the door and got changed. What she would have loved to do was take a shower, but with the way the marketing manager was talking, she definitely didn’t have time.
As soon as she was dressed, Y/N followed the marketing manager down to the lobby of the hotel. Outside there was a car waiting for her. She climbed into the back seat and pressed her head against the cool window as they drove towards the track.
Somehow, she fell asleep in the car once again. She woke up to somebody shaking her shoulder, and was quick to follow them into the McLaren hospitality unit. Her had swam as she walked, but she ignored it; she had a job to do.
It was the first time she had seen Lando since she left their apartment. “Hey,” she said through a croaky voice as she sat in the seat beside him.
“Are you okay?” Asked Lando, his arm resting on the sofa behind her.
Y/N quickly moved it. She nodded her head and looked at the camera in front of them as a member of staff past her and Lando question cards.
***
She was sick. That was clear to anyone as she threw up into her bathroom. But to her, it was just stress. She’d had a taste of her first win and she wanted more. Th thought of trying to keep being consistent was making her so stressed that she was coming across sick.
She threw up before qualifying. How she made it all the way to Q3, she didn’t know, but she struggled to qualify in the top five. As soon as qualifying was done, Y/N rushed back to the hotel room while the team at McLaren took care of the media for her. She managed to avoid fans as she was driven back to the hotel.
As soon as she was in her room as she asleep on her bed, still wearing the McLaren shirts and shorts that she had left the circuit in. She didn’t even climb under the covers before falling asleep, her head just about on the pillow.
Again, she woke up to somebody knocking at her door. Again, she reluctantly stood up and pulled open the door.
Only this time, it was Lando on the other side of the door. “Shit,” he whispered as he looked at her. “You look…”
“Like shit,” Y/N answered for him.
“Are you okay?” Lando asked again and Y/N nodded, leaning her forehead against the wood of the door frame. But Lando clearly didn’t believe her. He stared at her, raising his eyebrows, waiting for her to take it back, to tell him that she was feeling as terrible as she looked.
Still, she couldn’t admit it. Lando tried to walk past her, to get into her room, but she stood in his way. “What do you want, Lando?”
“I want you to admit that you’re sick and let me take care of you.”
“I don’t want you to take care of me,” she said, somewhat stubbornly.
So, Lando grabbed a hold of her shoulders and forced his way into her room. He sat the door behind him and sat her on the bed. “Talk to me,” he said, kicking off his shoes and laying back against her pillows.
“About what?” She spat back, crossing her arms as she looked out of the window.
“About why you’re not talking to me.”
She visibly deflated. Fuck, she had missed him, but their last time had scared her enough to keep her away. No, he was just asking to get into her head before the race.
“Max hasn’t told anybody, you know,” he said, leaning forward and placing his large hand on her shoulder. “He’s not going to.”
Y/N twitched her head towards him, but she didn’t say anything.
“We could go back to the way we were, you know,” Lando continued. “I… I miss you and I want to go to how we were.”
She let out a sob and wiped beneath her eyes. She missed it too. Missed him. “I-“ but she couldn’t say more than that.
Wordlessly she crawled towards him. she laid down beside him, placing her head on his chest. “Lando, we can’t tonight,” she said.
“I know,” he responded with a nod. “You’re sick.”
“I’m not sick!” She insisted.
“You’re sick.”
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k0juki · 10 days
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Hi! So I saw you were writing for joost and I was wondering if you can do joost dating fem!reader hc’s and readers a contestant at Eurovision? Maybe if ur comfortable with it can you add some comfort angst?
Jurr♡ I can :)
Dating Joost Klein hc.
Joost Klein x fem!reader
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English is not my first language, so feel free to point out any mistakes or errors! More posts here.
Wc: 552
---
• You and Joost met in the Netherlands, before he, himself got pretty famous.
• It was fall and you were here because you always wanted to go here, to see all the colors and meet new people.
• As you were mindlessly looking around, you didn't watch where you were going and accidentally bumped into some stranger. Joost.
• You apologized to him and he just laughed, saying it's alright.
• He asked if you wanted to get coffee together as an apology and you immediately agreed.
• And the rest is history, now Joost is your boyfriend of two years and is your biggest cheerleader at Eurovision, he's attending all your rehearsals and performances.
• He's pretty proud because he never missed a single one show.
• And also, he is proud of you, how far you made it.
• He fulfills you with affection and support, whether it's giving you pep talks before going on the stage or holding your hand during nerve-wracking moments.
• He's always here with you.
• Despite his busy schedule, Joost always makes time for you, whether it's planning romantic dates or simply cuddling on the couch after a long day, he cherishes every moment spent together and never fails to make you feel loved and valued.
• Music also is a big part of your relationship with Joost.
• You bond over shared favorite songs and artists, often spending lazy afternoons listening to music together or even writing songs collaboratively.
• He admires your talent and creativity, as you admire his.
• Joost is incredibly proud of your achievements at Eurovision, but he also understands the pressure you're under.
• He's there to comfort you during moments of doubt and anxiety, offering words of encouragement and reassurance when you need them most.
• As the Eurovision competition heats up, tensions run high, you find yourself struggling with self-doubt and anxiety.
• Joost notices the change in your demeanor and becomes increasingly worried about your well-being.
• One night, after a particularly stressful rehearsal, you break down in tears, overwhelmed by the pressure to succeed.
• Joost rushes to your side, wrapping you in his arms and soothing you with gentle words of comfort.
• "Hey, hey love, it's alright, okay? I'm right here."
• He assures you that he's there for you no matter what and that your worth isn't defined by the competition.
• Despite Joost's efforts to comfort you, the anxiety continues to gnaw at you, casting a shadow over your relationship.
• You worry that your insecurities are driving a wedge between you, but Joost refuses to let you push him away.
• No matter what.
• He stands by your side, offering unwavering support and understanding as you navigate the emotional rollercoaster of Eurovision.
• On the night of the final performance, nerves are at an all-time high, but Joost is there to hold your hand and remind you of your strength and talent.
• "it's just a competition love, nothing more." His words calmed you down.
• As you take the stage, he watches with bated breath, his heart swelling with pride as you pour your heart and soul into the performance.
• In the aftermath of Eurovision, you and Joost take time to reflect on the experience and its impact on your relationship.
• Despite the challenges you faced, you emerge stronger and more united than ever, grateful for the love and support that you have from him.
---
Don't copy or translate my work! Also the picture is not mine! Credit goes to owner!
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simplylatte · 2 months
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Sleepy Teacher
Miss Circle x GN!Reader
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You held your papers to your chest, your heels clicking against the hard, tile floor of the hallway. The gentle sounds of your footsteps filled the silence that swept around you. Various flyers decorated the plain walls that were grey and gloomy. You'd occasionally come across a few drawings here and there from students. But aside from that, the design was simple.
You marked your way to the teacher's lounge, your stomach rumbling for some needed food.
You forgot to pack lunch.
You couldn't help it.
You taught your class as usual. Gave a two to three week unit, hand them a study guide, and test them the next day. It was a lot of papers to grade for a single teacher. You feared falling behind, so you spent hours at night trying to grade what you could. And so far, you've only managed to grade half of what was needed to be done. Not to mention that you also hadn't updated your lesson plans yet.
You took a seat at a table, the room empty. You placed the packets of papers on the desk and rubbed your temple. Your head throbbed with excruciating pain. You felt like crying. But you were a teacher. You signed up for this amount of stress, so you resorted to sucking it up with a sigh. After a minute of collecting your thoughts, you grabbed out your pen and began to grade the papers.
Time felt slow, and you grew more tired by the second. Sleep deprivation overwhelmed you and your thinking process. You spent 20 of the 35 minutes of lunch trying to grade a single packet. Your thought process was slowed down that you hadn't registered someone walking in the room.
"Mx. Y/N?" A soft, Japanese accent filled your ears, and you flinched, nearly dropping your pen. You turned your head around to see Miss Circle standing in the doorway.
"Goodness, you nearly scared me to death," you frowned.
"I called your name twice," her eyes narrowed at you.
"You did?"
"I did."
"But I didn't hear you. And since when did you come in?"
Miss Circle didn't say a word. Her eyes stared into your soul, and you knew right away that she caught on to your habits. This wasn't the first time she's found out about your lack of sleep. And unfortunately, she was not real happy about it. Her footsteps clicked against the floor as she made her way to you.
"How much sleep did you get this time?" She asked with a stern tone. You stared at her with visible confusion. You were zoned out until she had to tap your shoulder to get your attention. You simply tilted your head and stared. Miss Circle scoffed lightly.
"How do you expect to be a good role model when you can't even take proper care of yourself?"
"I do take care of yourself," you retorted.
"Then why are you staying up late?"
You stood silent, unsure of what to say or how to respond. You simply shook your head and went back to trying to grade papers. Miss Circle frowned in disapproval. She sat down next to you and lifted your chin up, turning your head to look at her.
"This isn't good for you, you know that by now. If you keep this up, I'll turn you in to the principle—"
"No, please don't!" You protested.
"But I will with the way you're neglecting your sleep. Papers shouldn't be over your top priority."
You stood silent, the feeling of dread washed over you. You hated how caring she was about you. You could handle a few hours of sleep, you thought. You crossed your arms and turned your head away from Miss Circle. Her fingers lightly tap against the table.
"And I'm assuming you didn't pack your lunch either?" She asked. Your eyes widened, and you stood silent. You felt her eyes glare down at you as your silence was obvious enough. Miss Circle mumbled a few words underneath her breath as she went through her lunch bag and pulled out a container with a sliced sandwich. She handed you the bag in front of you and reached over to take away the papers stacked in front of you. You glanced at her and groaned to yourself.
"You really don't need to," you mumbled.
"Oh, but I insist," she whispered back in a hushed but angry tone. "I'm not giving you a choice. Eat."
You shook your head. "No. Come on, seriously. I really need to grade those papers."
"Absolutely not. These papers can wait. Eat the sandwich, and I'll give them back to you."
You snarled in frustration. You were too tired, so you just slammed your head against the table with your arms folded. Miss Circle stared at you for one moment, her eyes narrowed down at you. After a moment of glaring, her gaze softens. She places the papers down beside her and presses her hand on top of yours.
"Listen, I'm not trying to be mean. I'm just worried about you, okay? This isn't healthy for you. You can get yourself sick, you know."
"I know," you sighed. "But it's almost summer break. I can't slack off. The students are stressed enough as it is."
"And so are you. They're not the only ones dealing with stress," she reassured.
"..I'm so tired," you whispered, your vision getting blurry.
"I know you are,"
Miss Circle was about to continue her sentence. But you lifted your head up from the desk, leaned in, and leaned your head against her shoulder. You were tired to notice, but Miss Circle froze with shock and felt her face flush. She stood still and allowed you to lean against her, unsure of what to do. Finally, she wraps her arm around you and holds you close to her.
"Uhm, Y/N?" She gently called out. Nothing. She tilted her head, only to see that your eyes were closed. You fell asleep on her. Miss Circle was flustered, but she held you close. Using her foot, she pulled your chair closer and made you lean on her. You looked so peaceful. Your breathing was steady. You felt at peace. Miss Circle couldn't help but feel her heart swell with adoration.
This was okay. Next hour was her planning period anyway. She didn't mind this, not one bit. Miss Circle kept you close, her fingers gently trailing against your skin that left goosebumps in their wake.
"I suppose a few minutes wouldn't hurt," she whispered, her lips curling into a smile the longer her gaze stayed at yours. She leaned in and pressed a soft kiss on your forehead.
How sweet. ♡
☆------☆
I wrote this at 11 pm. It's not the greatest, but I hope this is well for you. ♡
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russellsppttemplates · 2 months
Note
Reader having an absolute baby fever while seeing Lando interacting with little fans during a race weekend.
Note: I have been in my Lando feels so much recently (who knew, right? With what I've been posting 🫠), and the little ones near him just send my ovaries to the moon, I swear!
It first happened when the little boy with a Mclaren cap Lando waited for him at the entrance of the McLaren unit after qualifying. You walked with Jon in front of Lando as he was giving Sky Sports a quick interview, spotting the little boy immediately.
"Oh my goodness, look how cute!", you gushed as you approached him and his family who seemed to recognise you, "are you here to see Lando?", you asked, crouching down so you were at eye level with him. He got really shy and hid beside his mum's legs as you smiled at him, hoping would finish his interview soon.
"Well, hello!", Lando greeted the little boy as his parents ushered him gently to take a picture with him, "come here, buddy!", Lando smiled as he walked up to him, "I really like your cap!", he tried to settle his nerves and as his parents were about to take the photo, he ran away from your boyfriend, "oh- okay", he chuckled before the little boy stood back next to him, "you have to say cheeeeese!", Lando exaggerated as the little boy giggled.
"That was such a cute moment, I snapped a couple of pics to put in my photo dump! And I'm going to send this one to your mother!", you cheered.
.
Walking through the paddock, you noticed it was quieter than usual at this time of day, scanning your pass and trying to stay out of the way of the people working there and saying hello to the ones you were familiar with as usual until you spotted a little McLaren driver.
"I'm sorry, miss!", the man you assumed was his father called for you. You had on your McLaren rain jacket, and the grey pants you were wearing did make you look like you worked for the team, so when he asked you at what the time Lando would be doing autographs, you apoligised, "Oh, I don't work for the team, I'm sorry!", you explained, "Oh, it's just Liam wanted to meet him, we'll ask someone else, thank you", he smiled warmly as Liam waved at you.
"Actually, I can make that happen for you", you smiled as you explained the whole situation as you walked to the unit, calling your boyfriend's trainer to make it happen.
"Who's this?", Zak asked you as you walked hand in hand with Liam into the garage, "this is Liam, and he's a big fan of...", you encouraged him to speak up, "Lando!", the boy said loudly, "Oh - thank Goodness! I thought someone had done some magic and Lando shrunk!", Zak said, feigning relief as he out his hand on his chest to emphasise.
"Look, it's Lando!", Liam yelled as he saw your boyfriend walk to where you were, "Hi Liam! I was told I have a very special fan at the track today!", he said as he crouched down, talking to him about all things related to racing and then showing him around the garage.
"How much do you want to have his kids after this? I promise I won't tease you too much about it", Max jokingly whispered on your ear as you watched your heart eyes directed at your boyfriend as he let Liam touch the steering wheel.
"In a way that concerns what I believe and questions feminism, as in I would happily give him a football team, bench players included, so, yeah, that much", you looked up at Max with a stern face as he seemed shocked by your words, "told you, it's been hitting me pretty hard lately", you shrugged your shoulders.
.
Max had space on his jet for you and Lando, and since you were all flying back to Monaco, you accepted the offer to fly with them.
"There they are", you nodded with your head as you spotted Kelly, Max and Penelope by the passport verification counter.
"LANDO!", the little girl yelled as she jumped in her spot in excitement at seeing your boyfriend, who ran up to her and crouched down against the wall.
The little girl was quick to hug him, small arms wrapping around neck as she smooched his cheek, "Ugh, that's it", you groaned as Kelly looked at you, "I'm sorry - I don't mean it that way!", you quickly apoligised, "it's not your cute daughter I'm complaining about, she's the sweetest girl, look at her", you smiled as she happily did a few turns to show Lando her dress and then her bracelets, "it's the sight of my boyfriend near her that made me groan - it's been like this every single day, I swear. A cute little kid goes up to him and he's all cute and cuddly with them, and boom! My ovaries are doing somersaults", you chuckled at your own words, "my baby fever has been alm over the place! Oh, they're trading bracelets!", you gushed, "I think I might cry, actually!".
(Thank you for sending this in ✨️)
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lxkeee · 3 months
Note
I absolutely love your writing!! And don't get me wrong, I love Lucifer, but they way you write Azreal and the Eveningstar family lives in my head 24/7. The AU where reader ends up with Azrael is my absolute fav to come back to, along with the main series it stemmed from. I'd love to see more content of him in general. I've been driving myself crazy imaging a part 2 to the AU with Lucifer wanting to reconnect with reader and having this family unit with them, only to realize that he lost them completely when he fell and that they've moved one and found happiness without him. Very hurt/no comfort for Luci while reader finally experiences a returned unconditional love with Azrael.
TWO SIDES OF THE SAME COIN
—ALTERNATIVE UNIVERSE
Pairing: Azrael Eveningstar x Seraphim Angel! Reader
Genre: angst
Warnings: hurt and no comfort for our short king
Notes: an alternate universe where [y/n]'s family is complete, Xavier doesn't have any daddy issues nor has any hatred for Charlie as he doesn't give any crap about her and Lucifer (well, he did at some point but forgave them), where it was simply the wrong person and wrong time. Where it was Azrael who is endgame. This isn't canon to the fanfic storyline, simply an au.
Additional notes: I LOVE IT WHEN READERS WANT MORE AZRAEL CONTENT OMG
CH. 1 | CH. 4 | NAVIGATION
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They finally have done it. Hazbin Hotel is finally booming in business, many sinners are finally checking in and giving redemption a try.
Though, Lucifer cannot help but be nervous. Heaven or specifically, the Seven Virtues requested a meeting with him and his daughter and along with Vaggie, they wanted to talk about the hotel and also about his punishment.
Why wouldn't he be nervous? The last time he was in a meeting with them, they absolutely crushed his hopes and dreams and to add to the fact that his first wife, now ex-wife is part of the organization.
Lucifer doesn't know how to handle it, he's afraid of how he'll act once he sees her and the fact that Charlie told him about his son that he left her with. Absolute guilt.
He misses her, he misses [y/n] so much and he regrets how he treated her. He neglected her, abandoned her and their son. Even after all these years, his heart still longed for her.
“Dad? You okay?” Charlie asked worriedly, holding her bag. Currently, they are waiting for the portal to heaven to open for their meeting tomorrow. She noticed that her dad seems to be in deep thought, she knows what's plaguing his mind—meeting his ex-wife again and seeing his son for the first time. She too is nervous about what will happen when that moment comes.
“The portal seems to be taking a long time to open.” Angel Dust snickered and Vaggie elbowed him on the side, somehow both Alastor, Niffty, and Angel Dust wanted to join them. Leaving the hotel underneath [f/n]'s care, another overlord who joined the hotel.
“You're really complaining when you're not even invited,” Vaggie muttered before turning to look at Alastor, “I am even surprised that even you also decided to join us, how come?” Vaggie deadpans at Alastor and the taller demon just laugh, radio static filling the air, “Myyy~! I am merely curious what the heavenly realms looked like. Nothing more~” He grins, quite mischievously. Vaggie narrowed her eyes at the radio demon.
Lucifer sighs and shakes his head and gives Charlie a small reassuring smile, “I'll be fine, I'm just a little... Nervous.” he admits softly and Charlie nodded in understanding, placing a hand over her father's shoulder. She understands him, she too is nervous in seeing her half brother. Last time she saw him, he was giving her judgmental looks.
“I'm sure we'll be fine... Maybe this will be your chance to reconnect with them?” Charlie suggested, hopeful that somehow the two families can find a neutral area to get along with each other. After all, she always wanted an older sibling or siblings in general. She hopes that she and Xavier can get along.
Lucifer smiled, he too is hoping that this meeting will be fruitful and won't go so horribly.
A golden portal opened in front of them and they looked at each other, nodding as they finally took a step inside.
Heaven, is very bright compared to hell. Too much white, gold, and blues.
The crew looked at Lucifer, urging him to take the lead as he did come from here. Lucifer sighs, despite the nervousness, he decides to approach the pearly white gates of heaven. Standing in front of the counter of Saint Peter. The others are following him.
“Welcome to heaven, can I get your names please?” Saint Peter asked, opening his book. Lucifer sighs, twiddling his thumbs nervously.
“Lucifer... Morningstar...” Lucifer says, almost a whisper. Cringing slightly as he watched the Saint slam his book close, “Oh... Fuck!” Saint Peter exclaimed with a nervous chuckle.
“Um... I wasn't aware that you will be visiting today...” the Saint said with an awkward chuckle, Angel Dust just smirked while Alastor just grins, clearly interested in what heaven has to offer.
Charlie stood nervously beside Lucifer, unsure what to do next.
“Saint Peter, please grant them access. They are here for an important meeting.” a young masculine voice says, surprising the hell citizens. Turning to look at the gate and their eyes widened to see an almost exact replica of Lucifer—except for the eyes and height.
Lucifer's eyes widened and Charlie can be seen to become more nervous as the young man approached their group.
Saint Peter eyes widened, not expecting to see the young general today. “R-right. Please, come in.. heaven officially welcomes you.” Saint Peter says, opening the gates wider for the group.
Lucifer couldn't think, his ears ringing as he looked at the newcomer. Lucifer examined the angel's appearance—an almost exact replica of him and of course, he knows those eyes very well. The same [e/c] eyes his ex-wife has. The angel wearing a white military-ish uniform with gold shoulder pads, elbow length black leather gloves and knee high leather black heeled boots.
Charlie gave his hand a gentle squeeze in assurance, he squeezed it back, grateful for her support.
Alastor grins, not expecting a twist in the scenario.
The young man turned to look at them with a gentle smile, “Greetings, I am Xavier. I am tasked with showing you guys where you will stay for tonight.” Xavier says.
Xavier looked at his obvious half family from hell, before, he had anger for them but because of his mother's influence, he was able to manage his anger on them. But it doesn't mean he'll accept Lucifer and Charlotte his family, he already has his own family in heaven. He doesn't need them.
“Please follow me and keep up.” Xavier says, almost emotionless. It's a habit of his, it might come off as rude or cold to people he just met but he doesn't care. His mother is the angel of kindness, he needs to inherit her kindness instead of his father's pride.
The hell citizens just looked at him with slight nervousness—aside from the smiling one—before eventually following him.
Lucifer just stared at the back of Xavier's head, the golden halo shining brightly against his light blonde hair. He wanted to speak to him but words wouldn't come out of his mouth. He just follows in silence, his demon kind just looking at him in worry—except Alastor, who just gave him a teasing grin.
They followed him, it took a while but they finally arrived at their destination. A large white mansion with black and gold accents, surrounded by fluffy white clouds and trees. Sunflower and tulip fields decorating the front garden. [Y/n]'s favorite flowers.
“This is where you'll be staying so please, come inside.” Xavier says, the gates to the large mansion opening for them.
They admired the scenery, it is completely different from hell. Clean and tidy. Almost blinding to the eye.
They finally arrived inside the large mansion, completely in awe with its exterior and interior designs.
“Don't worry about the palace being too crowded, it's just me and my family living here.” Xavier explained, ushering them to follow him. Walking towards the supposed living room, they weren't able to see the large family portrait on the wall as it was mounted on a wall that they couldn't see.
“I am surprised we're staying somewhere luxurious this time unlike last time. How come?” Charlie asked and Xavier gave her a raised eyebrow before sighing.
“The guest rooms are currently full while waiting for new buildings to be created for the new souls. The seven thought it would be a good idea if one of them houses you guys.” Xavier shrugs before continuing to tour them around. Angel whistling in admiration.
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“And this will be your room.” Xavier says as he showed Lucifer his room. The others are already settled in.
“Thank you.” Lucifer says, almost a whisper as he went inside the large luxurious room. Xavier nodded as he stood at the doorway.
“It's nothing, I'll get going now and if you need me, I'll be in the living room.” Xavier says before turning around to leave.
“Wait!”
Lucifer doesn't know what he was thinking, he just acted out on impulse. Xavier stopped, turning around to look at him with a raised eyebrow.
“What is it?” Xavier asked, looking down on him. Mom, why is he so small? He thought.
Lucifer gulped, clearly nervous, “Are you... My...?” he couldn't get all the words out as his ears were ringing.
“Son?” Xavier completed, crossing his arms to look at his blood father, “Yes.” he says flatly and Lucifer's breath hitched.
Xavier sighs, already done with this, “Look, I am going to be straight with you dear father of mine.” Xavier says flatly, Lucifer looking at the taller boy in front of him.
“Just because you're my blood father doesn't mean I want you back in my life, whatever you're trying to do. I don't welcome it. I couldn't care less about you or my half sister. Do you understand? So, stop. Don't give me and my family a hard time. You've done enough damage already.” Xavier says coldly, catching Lucifer off guard. The fallen angel's heart shattered at the boy's harshness.
“Excuse me, I still have work to do.” Xavier says as he quickly walked away. Lucifer nodded, almost robotic. He went inside the guestroom and cried.
Lucifer doesn't blame Xavier for acting that way. After all, he's a horrible husband and father to [y/n] and Xavier.
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Dinner was oddly awkward, a tension between the three blood relatives. Xavier didn't join them, opting to only have a drink instead.
“Aren't you going to eat?” Charlie asked hesitantly as she sat beside her dad, Xavier didn't bother looking up from his golden holographic screen that came from his wrist watch, his other hand typing into the hair and into the hologram.
“I'll eat later.” Xavier answers nonchalantly, they can clearly see him texting his mom.
M: Don't be too harsh on them sunshine.
X: I'm trying.
D: Well you better try harder, kiddo.
X: 🙄
X: What time will you come home?
D: Late as usual.
M: Indeed, there are still many things to finish but your father and I will make it quick to join you for dinner.
X: Alright, stay safe.
D: Love you, kiddo. Goodluck lol.
M: We will, sunshine. Love you<3
X: love you guys too.
Xavier was grinning slightly as he texted some people, Lucifer assumed it was [y/n] and somebody else he doesn't know of.
Lucifer avoided Xavier after that, clearly heartbroken. Lucifer assumes the D and M profiles meant Mom and Dad and Lucifer assumed that [y/n] remarried and he can clearly see how happy Xavier is talking to them.
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To shorten this all up, the meeting went smoothly. The Seven Virtues promised to fund the hotel and also asked for Lucifer's forgiveness for how harsh they treated him. Heaven took back his punishment and he can freely visit heaven anytime. Lucifer was able to find out that Azrael married [y/n] and she's happily married to the man. Though, she doesn't hate him and forgave him but she did make it clear that she doesn't want him back to her life and so did Xavier and Lucifer respected their wishes.
Finally returning back to hell, Lucifer was extremely heartbroken. He lost before he even got to start. But part of him is glad that [y/n] found a better man than him, someone who treats her better than him.
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End notes: I got a little lazy at the end lmao.
TAGLIST:
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bangficsx · 3 months
Text
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PLANNERS
pairing : jungkook x reader insert
word count : 7777 [coincidence ;)]
synopsis : wedding planner hooks up with the bride's cousin
warning : slight dry humping, teasing, blowjob, fingering, cum swallowing, squirting, multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (it's just a fic), a dick pic i don't think there's anything else..
"I already got the number given for how many tables and chairs are to be set up" the man tells you, leaving you in disbelief.
"I think you have a misunderstanding. I'm the event manager. I was supposed to have a meeting with you about it." You try to put forward your argument which gets dismissed again immediately.
"A certain gentleman came two hours before and told me everything in detail" the man answers getting irritated by your insistence about his mistake.
"Now please do not waste my time miss. I've got a lot of other clients." You turn around and roll your eyes, stomping forward murmuring "again".
It wasn't the first time your job got done by your customer. You have never met one like this before in the hundreds of weddings and events you've arranged. Why pay a hefty sum to you if they want to do everything on their own?
You make up your mind and set out on a quest to find the mysterious man who keeps completing the tasks he hired you to perform. And you've already assumed he must be the typical arrogant asshole from your nightmares.
The next morning, you leave for the photographer's studio three hours early. You were supposed to meet them to decide the lighting and type of camera that is to be used. What kind of shots the couple wants.
In your two year long career, you've never had an upset client. You try your best to deliver the exact kind of wedding they must've dreamt of for their whole lives.
The wedding ceremony is one of the most important events of a human's life. The most joyous celebration that unites two individuals and families together.
And you make those dreams come true. It's in your hand to control all that is controllable on that most special day of someone's life.
This wedding is by far the most expensive one you've ever handled. Usually you would manage two or three in a month. But they put a condition asking  you only focus on theirs for the month the wedding's scheduled in.
The groom started his own tech company at just 20 and earned a name for himself. While the bride is the ceo of a pharmaceutical company her dad left to her.
You ask your photographer if they got any emails about your event and when they checked they actually had one. You asked them for the address ensuring them there would be no consequences.
When you search the email address, you find it mentioned on a linked in account. You assume it must be the bride Si-young's cousin as you clearly remember her telling you she doesn't have any siblings of her own.
You find the man has attended a business school abroad and has professional posts about the company. Again you assume, he must work in the company too. Probably hold some influential position and hence, acts like such an asshole.
You also come from a well to do family yet you never understood why rich people spend money on services they don't even use.
You look at the picture of the man carefully. A pretty good looking man for sure. And you smirk when you find him in the car that's driving up the street just like you expected.
You feel stupid that you'd shared the schedule with them to assure everything would be done in time. There was a fair amount of time left yet you were working everyday as it was a big scale event, a grand affair. Two business tycoons coming together along with their souls and hearts.
You walk upto the spot where he parks his car. Resolute to give him an earful about what has been happening for the last week.
You stand with your hands folded waiting for him to ask what you want and to gladly tell him to let you do your job. He walks past you and enters the studio leaving you gasping.
You stomp your feet and follow him. Fuming in anger, you call behind him "excuse me mister what do you think are you doing huh?"
He keeps talking with the photographer showing her samples that you were supposed to show and tells them they want better ones than those.
"Mr Jeon!" You call him again. He finally turns around.
"Can I help you?" He asks as if he's clueless.
"Yes. I think you're aware that Ms Si-young and her fiancé have appointed me as their wedding planner. I'm the one whose supposed to perform the tasks you've been performing. It's my job" You finally release all your pent up frustration.
"It's complicated" he says and turns around to continue his conversation.
"Excuse me sir do you not understand how much inconvenience you've been causing me. I have been wasting my precious time and money to travel miles only to find you've already done the job" you shout unable to believe something like this could ever happen.
"Look it's not my problem. I told Si-young that I would look after every little detail about her wedding. It's not my fault if she paid someone to do it. Just keep the money." He says with an expression that says he wants you to fuck off but you aren't going to give up so easily.
Going away with free money is easy. But you're not gonna do that. It's a large sum of money that you received. And you need to manage this event to enhance your portfolio. Grabbing this opportunity is so far your biggest achievement. If you do this you'd be able to kick all the asses that laughed on your face when you told them your career choice was becoming an event manager.
And your stubbornness resulted into the gentleman bringing you to a café to explain to you why he wants to arrange everything by himself. How much it means to him. What Si-young denies to accept.
"Her dad died when she was nineteen. She was abroad studying when he was on his deathbed. I was by his side through out his sickness. And his dream was to have a perfect wedding for his only daughter. Look she's the only thing he ever had. Her mother died before he could marry her. He meant a lot to me because you see my dad all our fortune drinking and gambling. Uncle took me in and provided me with the best of opportunities and education and in turn it helped me send money to my family. He saved us and now I want to fulfill his last wish and dream. That's why I want to arrange the whole wedding. Ensure everything is absolutely perfect. Si-young likes to flex her money, she thinks just spending lots of money will get her the perfect wedding day. She doesn't understands only someone who deeply cares and loves her would ensure perfection." You feel attacked and he surely knows he's being rude to make you run but you're not going to, not so easily.
You've had enough experience dealing with people who won't trust you. Parents of brides and grooms, brides and grooms themselves, even your own parents.
You quickly pull your tablet put and open your browser which already has a tab open with your website on it.
"Well Sir I'd like to tell you I've been an event manager with an expertise in wedding planning for two years now. I've successfully managed a hundred weddings now and this is my profile. As you can probably see with your own eyes I'm able to put up the best possible events." You tell him proudly because nobody else ever takes pride in you.
"Look I've told you I want to do it and I'm going to do it no matter how much you try to" he says again and you can't bear it anymore.
You lash out "You don't understand how hard I've worked to get here alright. I've worked my ass off the past four years. Two years as an intern where I worked like a dog and then at my own company. I have been able to get here based on sheer hard work and nothing else. I'm not gonna let you snatch it away from me." He watches your nostrils flare, and your skin turn red.
"Alright calm down. Take a deep breath" he says before he sighs.
"Please" You can't believe yourself and takes everything in you to stoop like this but you speak the word out.
It's the way you ask him that he relates to you in some sense. He knows what working hard is like and can tell from your eyes you're speaking the truth.
"Can we do it together then?" He offers.
You roll your eyes at him, contemplate then answer "fine"
"So easy.. you had to make it so hard" he chuckles and you look away trying to hide your smile.
"At least get a black coffee for self respect. You're embarrassing me along with yourself" You point out that you two have been sitting for too long without ordering something.
"Sorry" he mumbles before ordering.
"It's okay" you respond.
"You just wanna... keep... sitting on the same table" he asks fearing another outburst from you.
"People might misinterpret if I suddenly leave and sit somewhere else." You answer. Think it might benefit both of you.
"How so?" He asks. You don't understand if he lacks experience assuming he might have drowned himself in studies first and now work or he's just messing with you and having his own fun in it.
"We looked like we were fighting. They might think we were a couple... and we broke up" you answer clearing all his doubts.
"You're kinda clever you know" he says.
"No doubt" you answer.
Your coffees arrive and you both silently sip from your cups. He keeps glancing at you then at the table. Covers his mouth not known to you, he's covering a foolish grin, a blush because he can't stop looking at you and get reminded of how cute he found you in control of anger. How he adores a smart woman who can take a stand for themselves and don't give up.
"You know complete silence can be misinterpreted in a way too" he leans over the table folding his arms.
"Certainly" you agree. Also you are finding it impossible to resist the urge to talk to him.
A part of you is unable to believe you are having coffee even that you're sitting at the same table with a person who studied from one of the top business schools of the world.
"You want a sandwich or something... lemme compensate you for all the money you spent at least obviously I can't return you the time" he speaks looking around for the waitress. Before you can refuse he has already ordered two. You didn't say anything because you could hear your stomach grumbling in hunger. You hadn't eaten a proper dinner last night too.
"You know I kinda understand her dad and you too" your words grab his attention. He looks at you, fluttering his eyes, without any shame not moving them away.
"Hmm" he finds himself at a lack of words.
"It's pretty important to my dad too... That someday my wedding goes well if it happens. But we aren't really on good terms anymore so I don't really know what's gonna happen when the time comes" you tell him. Mustering the courage to finally open up. You've been in your shell for way too long now. It's been five months since you and your girlfriend broke up.
"What happened" he asks trying to not offend. "If you're comfortable to share" he quickly adds.
Your sandwiches arrive right before you start answering, "He wanted me to be an engineer but I had no interest in that area. So he didn't help me tuition for undergrad or anything at all. Mom is a homemaker so she couldn't help me as such. Then when I started my business even then he didn't give any seed money or anything. So far I've been able to manage on my own so I guess I'll arrange my own wedding by myself too. I've got one life, I'm gonna live it out on my own terms. I don't give a fuck anymore" you bite a huge piece off your sandwich not caring what he thinks.
"I'm proud of you" he mutters.
You are surprised to hear that and make no efforts to hide that, "What... what did you just say?" You ask.
"Oh you heard it. You're strong and self made so..." he scratches his nape nervously.
"Thanks" you tell him.
You take another bite of your sandwich.
"Also my parents don't know that I'm bi" You blurt out, kinda on purpose to see if he's gonna back off because of that but it doesn't budges him. He seems to be absolutely fine with it. And there have been many who have left after you state that fact about yourself.
When you both finish eating you walk outside the café together.
"Sorry for wasting your time like that" you apologise. "You seem like you have a serious job"
"No it's not like that... it's all for Si-young and she means a lot to me, even more than my own siblings." He quickly explains.
"Wine tasting tomorrow 5pm" You remind him although he must already have it pinned on his schedule.
"See ya" he leaves after getting in his car. He wanted to ask you to get in the car and drop you wherever it was you needed to go but he had a meeting in an hour and had to prepare for it.
The next day, you meet again. You feel guilty of the excitement of sorts that you hold in your heart to meet him again.
You thought about him all day long the day before, all night and all morning. He was beautiful and kind. Inspiring and caring. You'd never met a guy like that before.
You skip your usual pants and shirt work outfit and instead wear a dress. With a denim jacket on top and boots to walk in.
The wine seller was not a long distance away from your place. You had a home office setup and were saving for an actual office.
You find that Jungkook has already reached the location and was waiting for you. You feel embarrassed not knowing for how long he's been there.
He walks upto you and greets you and you do the same. You walk inside together.
"We have a booking for a wine tasting" you ask the receptionist who points at an old man sitting in a corner. She asks him to take over.
You and Jungkook sit at a table with glasses placed in front of you. The old man uninterested to work asks you to just tell whichever tastes best after showing you samples from what they offer at weddings. You know that the place has the best wines so you don't object towards the behaviour.
"Should we try this one first?" He asks.
You both try the same wines and wait for a few seconds for the taste to settle in.
"No way" You answer. He chuckles and nods.
"OK, trust me this isn't their best" you tell him quickly not letting him doubt your choice of wine seller.
"You've had the best one before?" He asks.
"Yeah someone gifted me once" you get reminded of your ex who brought it for your anniversary. It brings back all the bitter memories from your breakup. It was the longest, strongest relationship of your life yet it ended in such a bad way. You still haven't completely forgotten her.
"Jungkook" you take his name as if he's a friend of yours.
"Yeah everything alright?" He senses the change in your tone and expressions because he hasn't looked anywhere else.
"Can you... can you please taste these and tell me which one you like best? I'm sure you have a great taste in alcohol." You request him. He looks at you and nods.
He picks up a glass and drinks from it. You're sure he must have a hundred questions rushing through his mind but he's not asking them out of politeness.
"Don't wanna kill you with curiosity it's just because my last ex and to be honest one of the best ones brought the best wine from here for our anniversary so I don't wanna taste it and remember it all again. It was pretty terrible... the break up" you purse your lips.
"I'm not curious about those things" he sips another wine and makes a face furrowing his eyebrows. You don't know what to make of it, it looks like he's gonna get angry at you for bringing you to a place which has not a single good one.
"How are these their bestsellers... like what the fuck is even happening here" you look around to call someone and ask them if they actually arranged you the best samples.
"No wait... fuck.." he takes another sip. "Heaven" a moan escapes his mouth before he presses his lips together.
"You like it? I was worried, thought you were gonna get angry at me" you sigh in relief and he laughs, giggles looking at your face.
"Why would I ever get angry at you?" He shrugs his shoulders.
"I boasted about this particular place so I'm bound to be questioned if it doesn't turns out as per the expectations I have planted in someone else's mind. Part of my job is to have a varied taste because different people like different things and I have to cater to their needs accordingly." You speak and he was mesmerized with you.
"You speak so well... damn. You really are passionate about what you do" hee says.
"Yes I am" you confirm.
"I like people with passion for their jobs" he says. You feel butterflies in your tummy. You know how he's indirectly pointing at you.
"So... should I go sort it out with them?" You ask.
"You know... you could drink some other wine. I don't like getting drunk alone" he says.
"Well if you feel like that" you buy a mid range bottle for yourself and ask for a glass. It's not necessarily a place to sit and drink in, yet you two are the only ones there. And you don't like making people feel lonely so you'd better get a little drunk too. And wine makes you feel kinda cosy, drunk but still like yourself.
You can see that he is tipsy. He buys the wine he liked for himself. Once you're both finished you step outside the store.
"How did you get here?" You ask.
"Took a cab" he answers. "Driving wouldn't have been a smart thing to do if I knew I was gonna drink" he adds.
"Don't you have like drivers" you ask curiously. The alcohol starts to have it's effects with the passage of time.
"Not me" he answers your query.
"Hope you aren't getting late for any plans" he says checking if you haven't forgotten about something.
"Why are you curious now?" You smirk.
"Don't want you to blame me later that I got you drunk"
"I drank out of my own will. Just say you're curious to know if I have a partner. I can sense your intentions very well Jeon" you walk away from him but he giggles and steps closer again. You move away again and he pulls you, gently holding your arm.
"Hey I have no such intentions" he denies.
"I'm not so naive to not notice" you keep walking forward with a straight face.
You are certain of what's going on inside his mind. You were sure of your attraction when you first saw him. You've had enough of crying over your ex and remembering the things she did to you. All you need is someone else to do even better things to you.
"By the way... how old are you?" He asks hesitantly.
"Not a minor for sure" you try to annoy him.
"Real age please ma'am" he rolls his eyes.
"Turning 24 in a couple months" you tell him wondering if he's older than you or if he would be uncomfortable that you're younger than him.
"I'm 26, means I can talk informally with  you" he states without you asking.
You don't know why you keep walking further. Even though you know you should just take a cab and go back home yet it's like you're waiting for something. You want to just get even the glimpse of an opportunity. Even though a part of you knows it's not completely right but that adds to the thrill of it all.
"Are you sure you don't have someone waiting for you?" You ask him indirectly.
You are begging inside your heart to know that he's single.
You can't stop the trail of dirty thoughts that follows as you see his skin shining with the layer of sweat that's covering his face. He flicks his lip ring with his tongue, you see him bite his lip before he looks at you with a hint of lust in his eyes.
"Umm no. I have been single for like two years now. My ex left behind a lot of damage too. Took me a lot of therapy and strength to get through it all. We dated four years, I thought she was the one and only and well..." he pauses. You understand what he means and nod.
"I'm sure your little heart will heal" you pat his chest lightly and he smiles. His hand brushes yours as he shifts to walk closer to you even though you barely had an inch between you two.
The image of him biting his lip replays in your mind. You glance at his lips again which he parts making you avert your gaze before he notices.
He's in a leather jacket, white t-shirt, black skinny jeans. Your eyes travel south and get a quick look at the fabric hugging his toned thighs. You wonder if how many abs he's got under the shirt. Fuck, you can't believe your brain is fantasizing about a man you've only met twice when the sun has just started to set.
"You're curious about so many things right now but you aren't asking isn't it?" You smile looking at him. Try to ease the tension because you can sense it building in him too.
"Oh come what do you think I'm even curious about?" He scoffs.
"We're all curious about things Jungkook" you say. You almost trip over a rock but he holds your hand. He keeps holding it just in case you lose balance again. You both are equally tipsy.
"Well what are you curious about?" He asks after a moment.
"Well you know like what happens after death? What will happen to me if the number of people getting married keeps decreasing? What cock tastes like?" The last one makes him cough and stare you.
"You're so drunk" he says.
"Not so much" you tell him.
"Then repeat what you just said" he says
"Why?" You fold your arms over your chest narrowing your eyes at him.
"Why is that a thing you're the most curious about?" He blurts out.
"You're asking like you have some position open for a blow job giver" you joke.
"Like you'd apply for the job" he adds.
You look around people don't give a fuck they're busy minding their own business. You regret saying what you said but yet you let go.
"Have you been to the wedding venue yet?" You ask changing the topic.
"Just checked it out on the internet" he says.
"Wanna go check it out?" You ask.
"I'm kinda tired what about tomorrow?" He offers.
"We've only walked like 500 metres" you chuckle.
"I'm sure it's more than a thousand" he says.
You reach the bus stand from where you can get a bus to your place. He stands beside you.
"You should get a cab. I'll just get on the bus." You tell him. You sense the disappointment in his eyes, but for some reason he doesn't express his desire.
"Okay. If that's what you want" he takes his phone out from his pocket.
You feel foolish waiting for him to turn around and say something. He keeps tapping his foot on the ground, looking at his phone.
The next day arrives after much anticipation. You get late, losing time in doing makeup.
The blood rushes to your cheeks everytime you think about him. You slept last night dreaming about his face, his lips, his delicate features.
You wait on the road for the cab to arrive. Jungkook texts you that he's on his way.
The banquet's in a hotel where the ceremony will take place.
Last night you both had no other options. You don't think each other's homes would've been a great option and there were no motels in sight either. He didn't even bring his car which could've been a compromise you would've made.
Now being in a hotel means you have the opportunity on hand you just have to catch it.
You give him a tour of the place. You have permission to enter the hotel at any time since they all know you are a wedding planner and you're managing an event there in a month.
As soon as he finds you both in a secluded corner he's quick to make the offer.
"You do know what I'm expecting?"
"What? For me to pay for lunch?" You tease him.
"For your curiosity to die" he answers.
"I don't wanna die so young" you tell him.
"Sure can't before you taste cock" you cringe hearing him phrase your words. You know it's just skin and flesh, it can't have it's own taste. It's not like pussy which you've tasted many times but only your ex's. You were drunk, wanted to be suggestive towards him and hence made that up.
"Well I don't have anyone right now whom I'd like to suck off" you tease him more. Kinda like to watch him get desperate.
"Think again" he says. You almost laugh but like how direct he's acting. He has hope evident in his eyes.
"Thought so hard my head hurts" you answer to play a level further than him.
"You're killing me" he says making you walk backwards and hit your back against the wall. Although he keeps his hand behind you so that you don't get hurt.
"No I'm not" you say.
"I'll buy you pretty things" he says. Keeps his hands beside your head.
"I'm weird I don't like pretty things" you joke, enjoy the way he hisses with frustration.
"Then I'll buy you ugly things. Or whatever you like..."
"Excuse me.. I'm not looking for a sugar daddy" you clarify. He sighs. Gets closer.
"I know you want me and you're fighting it. And I want you so bad... you can't even imagine" you hold to him for support as he stands dangerously close to you, staring into your eyes. You pull him a little closer and with the tip of your tongue lick his lower lip. The metal of his lip ring feels cold as your tongue glides over it.
Before he ends up losing all control, he takes your hand and barges into an open room. You raise your eyebrows finding it very questionable what he just did.
"I already booked it" he smirks before he  sits on the edge of the bed and pulls you above his lap.
You sit on him a bit hesitantly knowing he has a growing erection underneath his pants, causing him to act like this.
"Don't act so innocent" he whispers before pulling you closer with his hands on your hips. His hardness presses to your crotch.
You wrap your legs tighter around him.
He tangles his fingers with your hair. You lean closer to him but he doesn't kisses you. You try to get your lips on his but he keeps moving his face, touching his lips and his nose on your cheeks and neck and behind your ears.
"Don't" you whisper.
"Like you didn't" he puts a peck on your lips then pulls back again before you can fully kiss him. You let out a complaining groan and give up on trying to kiss him. He'll do it on his own because you know he wants it too.
"So desperate aren't you..." he presses his lips near yours. "Yet you were giving me such a hard time"
"You were the one denying your very obvious interest in me... and I was kinda nervous because I've never before hooked up with my clients or anyone related" you tell him. He chuckles.
"That's because you help people plan their weddings silly... it would be really problematic if you hook up with someone who's about to get married" you laugh at his words. The vibrations of your laugh travel to him, as both of your chests remain pressed together.
"And if it's not them it's their parents, that's way worse" you both giggle before he tucks your hair behind your ear and finally kisses you.
You hold his head to not let him go and slowly move your tongue into his mouth. He reciprocates your actions with the same passion you show. He gently grazes his teeth over your lip. You squeeze his nape lightly.
His hands travel down your neck and you look down as he unbuttons your shirt. It's brown to go with your black trousers. Your bra is just a cotton one. You washed your only lace one and it didn't dry in time to wear in the morning.
Jungkook cups your breast as he kisses down your cleavage. You fiddle with his buttons too. You really want to see what's underneath. He's insanely beautiful for a man and you feel jealous of his soft, silky hair. You have to carry out a whole ten step haircare routine through out the week to keep your hair frizz free and prevent dryness.
When he kisses you again, you grind yourself against him a little. He moans into your mouth. It's evident how close to the edge he is.
"You know if you want I can help you with that" you say as you feel wetness seep from your own folds as you stay pressed against his hard cock.
"Oh please... please..." he pulls himself away a little. Palms himself before you move his hand away.
You keep your hand on his chest and make him lie down. You have always liked how bouncy hotel mattresses tend to be. He giggles but quiets down as your hand reaches the button of his jeans.
You grip him from above his clothes and he pushes himself up against your hand. You unbutton his jeans after rubbing him for a few seconds.
Slowly you pull down his boxers too. And adore how pretty and thick he is. Your first man in four years and you're glad to grab a nice one. You feel evil to think of him like this but who cares, you both are just here to fool around, have fun.
You had a boyfriend when you were around nineteen to twenty and since then you only dated women. You did go on a couple dates with guys but none of them worked out.
You pull his jeans down his hips around his thighs. His cock is fully hard, the tip shines with precum. You make him lose his shirt too revealing the tattoo sleeve. You had gotten a glimpse of tattoos sneaking up his sleeve but had no idea that he had a whole hand full of them.
"Pretty tattoos" you remark and he smiles grazing his fingers on his arm.
"Tell me about them after you cum" you say making him chuckle.
"For that you have to start somewhere... I'm dying please" he whines.
You're quick to oblige. Your hands wrap around his dick. You give him a few pumps before licking his length.
You keep moving your hands around the base as you suck the top. He let's out muffled moans as you continue.
Somehow you get lost in the way he moans, knowing it's because of you, that you still can make people feel good. You were skeptical of yourself for a while after your ex labelled sex with you at the end of your relationship as average. You had always had a thrilling sex life with your partners, trying new things, new locations, new positions and techniques yet somehow you grew boring to her.
And here a man lay in front of you, groaning and moaning, definitely not faking it, with the way he was twitching and throbbing inside your mouth.
You keep going without thinking much. You find him responding well and if you keep doing it he'll reach climax and that is what you want for him, to get some release. He's been stressed about his cousin's approaching wedding and you assume his work life must be hectic too.
He grabs your hair in his fist trying his best to not hurt you. His grip loosens as you feel a warm liquid fill your mouth. The taste is a mix of things you can't describe with just one word. Before you swallow the first spurt another gets released out from his tip. Your clit throbs so bad, your heart beats so fast, you feel so wet, you just want to pull your pants down and make yourself cum if nobody's gonna do it for you. You feel an ache in your pussy and an urgent need to relieve yourself from it.
Jungkook lies with his head buried in the pillows. When he looks at you there's a shine to his face, his eyes. He has no care for how he came so much that too in your mouth.
"Either you make me cum right now or I'm making myself" you say pushing your trousers down as you lie beside him. You throw your shirt away too.
"Alright do it then..." he says. "Let's see how hard you can make yourself cum" his words sends another chill down your spine.
"Well then" you sit comfortably on the bed. Then part your legs. He watches carefully. You slowly push your panties to the side. Touch your clit and moan as the touch feels heavenly.
But the way that your pussy is all wet and messy and pretty Jungkook can't resist the temptation.
He sits beside you and slowly trails his hand up your thigh. You continue to rub your clit not caring what he thinks. Why would you do it's not like he means anything to you.
He doesn't removes your finger instead pushes his into your hole. "Fuck" you moan as he tries to find the sweet spot.
You increase your pace of stroking your clit.
With his free hand, he pushes the fabric of your bra down to expose your breasts just enough to get access to your nipples. He circles his thumb around the hardened buds.
As his finger continues to circle on your g-spot, he wraps his mouth around your nipple. His tongue circles around. He sucks trying to take in more of your boob into his mouth. You find it hard to maintain your rhythm of clit rubbing.
Yet as you find yourself too close to the climax, you're motivated to keep going. You just know it's going to be very hard. And with your moans and expressions, he finds his motivation too. He presses the tip of his finger against your walls.
You feel an unbearable pressure build inside you. Desperately trying to get relief. He's amazed how fast your hand starts moving. His eyes don't move away from your cunt neither does his finger pressing on your g-spot.
He takes your tit inside his mouth again. Your moans intensify as it finally snaps. Your thighs shake, you see the stars, think you've died for a second. It travels from your head to toe. You remove your hand but he doesn't.
Through the overstimulation he brings to you another unbearable pressure which turns into a wave of pleasure as you lose all control and squirt, shaking uncontrollably. Jungkook pulls his hand away and watches as you rub yourself again and spray more of the liquid soaking the sheets. You keep rubbing yourself and an orgasm combines with it. The control of your body has gone from you to your orgasm.
Jungkook moans watching you as his hand reaches his own cock thats hard again. He starts to pump himself as you catch your breath, your body still shakes.
"You surely enjoyed that" he says.
"Very much" you answer.
"Can we fuck now?" He asks. It's inevitable. You didn't think you'd come this hard in front of him. You look at his cock hard and ready to fuck you senseless.
Your lingering gaze tells him enough. He takes position above you. And before you know his tip is massaging your insides as he thrusts himself again and again.
Your phone starts suddenly ringing and with the surprise he sits up still holding his shaft. You fumble with the objects inside your handbag and take your phone out.
It was the hotel manager telling you they've arranged a special meal for you and your guest. Jungkook rubs himself against your clit and you almost moan yet he doesn't stops instead smirks.
As soon as you cut the call, he starts to fuck you again this time relentlessly. You both struggle to hold for long and come within minutes. He pulls out at the right moment, makes a mess all over your tummy and you clench around nothing as a short quick orgasm washes over you.
It's hard to speak after what you two did. You decided to take turns to shower. Thankfully you had an emergency pair of panties in your handbag which remains there all the time in case you unexpectedly start your period.
It's a rooftop setting where your food was. You had developed an appetite after the things you did that had tired you out immensely. You hadn't expected this at all, you were firm before entering the room that you'll just make out with him but so is life and it's happenings, one thing leads to another.
You sit across the table from Jungkook.
"It got a little crazy I'm sorry. I just lost..." he interrupts you and you wait for him to speak, "It was so fucking good... don't you dare try and deny that" he gives you a serious look and you chuckle.
"It'd been a while since I had fun like that. Sometimes one needs that right?" He nods, mouth stuffed with food. Would've bought you food regardless the hotel offered it or not.
"Bet you can say Si-young did a good job hiring me?" You joke.
He bites his lip before he laughs lowly.
"We're done with bookings now. I talked over a few things with the hotel. Guess I'm gonna see you for the final checks now" you speak in a low tone.
When you think about it you're gonna miss him even though it isn't a long time that you two spent together. There's just something about him that does something to your heart which you don't understand.
"Actually I have to go on a trip abroad and I don't know how long it's gonna take to wrap up the work although I'll be here for the wedding anyhow" he tells you. His voice is low. You know how much he wants to look after preparations firsthand.
"Hey don't worry. I hope you have some sort of trust on me now. I'll work my ass off to make sure your sister has the perfect wedding. And I'll give you updates every fifteen minutes." You say reach his hand that rests on the table.
"I'm counting on you" he says tightly holding your hand.
"You can" you answer.
Over the next few weeks you try to make contact with him but the time difference makes it impossible for you to have a conversation with him in real time. Mostly you send him updates regarding the wedding which is just work for you.
On a lucky day, you catch him online at an ungodly hour. You find out he's drunk. He keeps mentioning the sex you both had. Explains in detail, the things he liked which is almost everything about it. You're surprised he remembers it in such detail.
He sends you a pic of his erect penis says he's thinking about how you came and he hopes you look at it and make yourself come even harder. Everytime you are playing with yourself, you do remember the way his fingers worked and try to replicate it. The orgasms are strong that way and with his image in your mind even more.
You have no idea how you're gonna get him out of your mind. Although it brings you some peace that you're in his mind too.
He was in another country, he could be fucking anyone. It's not like he has to try too hard to get some. Yet he was thinking about you while jerking off. He liked the parts which others found a mess and a pain in the ass.
It was the nicest feeling to have someone accept you, appreciate you, like the way your body is and the way you are.
Much to your disappointment, he could only arrive on the day of the wedding. Hours before the ceremony starts. You had completely forgotten about his arrival, drowned in work as you were.
You were checking the lighting and flowers all around the place when two hands touched your shoulders. You turn around freaked out. Although it could be a friend from the staff trying to tell you to relax.
When you look at him you can't belive that he made it. He hugs you and presses a kiss on your forehead.
"Thank you so much for looking after everything so well" he thanks you but you shake your head.
"I'm getting paid" you say, then whisper "a big sum" you add. Although money hadn't been the only motivation for you to work hard on this project.
"Look at you" he fixes your hair, "What has become of you? You work hard more than you need to" he lightly pats your cheek before he guides you to a room at the back.
"Now show me the dress you're wearing.  Will wank in advance so I don't get too horny if you're gonna look too hot" he says.
"What... there's no dress I'll just be wearing what I'm already wearing" you glance at yourself in the mirror, you put on a shirt with embellishments to look not too plain. You don't get ready for every wedding that you plan.
"Good I bought you one. I just saw this while walking on the street and thought how good this'll look on you" he opens his bag and takes a packet out. He rips it open and gives you the dress.
"And you're still interested in me? The time was enough to fall in love with someone new" you say as if he had ever been in love with you.
"I'm not so easy" he says.
"Tell someone else" you respond with a smug look on your face. He chuckles.
"Now are you gonna change or..." he begins to undo the buttons of your shirt.
You think of taking over for a moment but then let him do it.
You help him pull the shirt down your arms leaving you in your bra. His hand reaches your back and he unhooks your bra.
"Hey..." you hold his hand to stop him.
"What? The dress is padded" you hadn't really noticed even when he was showing you the dress you were just busy looking at him.
Your bra slips off and his hand wraps around your tits. He squeezes them then sucks your nipples one by one, covers your whole chest with small kisses. You feel the wetness growing, you can't get too distracted. You have to go out or everything will fall apart.
His hand goes down your navel and rests between your thighs. Your breath hitches as he presses his fingers against your pussy.
"Oops made you wet. Don't worry will gladly help you with it..." he smirks and you remain numb as he slips his hand inside your panties.
The tip of his middle finger presses against your clit. You whimper.
"I don't have time" you complain.
"Alright" he starts to rub you. Circles his finger around your clit.
You were so wet, so aroused. You started to grind yourself on his hand and suddenly came, your juices gushing, clit throbbing against his finger, thighs shaking, you hold him for support.
"Told ya" he chuckles then pulls his hand away and hands you the dress to wear.
You like the dress, it was complimenting his outfit when you two stand together.
He stands behind you and holds your hand bringing it to his throbbing hardness. You rub your fingers on him a little bit then turn towards him.
"I need to be out there to make sure you can ensure the perfect wedding for your cousin." You touch his cheeks.
"Wait for me here after the reception is over. I'll get here and then I'll make you make up for it" you nod giggling before you leave.
When you left the room, you had no idea this was the last time you were ever going to talk to him.
This was the last time you were ever going to see him.
You did come to the room and wait like he asked but instead of him a girl came.
Said she was just made his fiancé and was supposed to wait for him there like the bride had told her to.
You knew who the girl was. You knew where she sat. She was from a business family too.
In the end, like always you got proved wrong. Money emerged victorious over human emotions or feelings.
You might plan a thousand weddings after that but he will always remain a distinct memory. A mysterious man who won your heart in a way you could never describe.
784 notes · View notes
ithebookhoarder · 2 months
Note
If your still taking requests could u pls do “if you were taken by an unsub” criminal minds imagin? Or smth along those lines, if not that’s fine tho
~ ☘️
(BAU Headcanons) If you were taken by an Unsub
A/N: Um, of course you can?! Thanks for sending this one in angel 😇 I'm only sorry it's taken me this long to answer this. Hope you like it!
Warnings: Usual Criminal Minds references to criminals, murder, violence etc. Mentions of mental health. (Let me know if I missed any)
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Aaron Hotchner
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If you were taken? This man would not rest until you were back and safe with him - and not just because of what happened to Haley (though it doesn’t help). 
He would bark orders at everyone in a cold and blunt manner that tells them he is not in the mood to be messed with.
They will do as they are told and they will do it now. 
This poor man would be fighting not to let his fear show but he'd be seen clenching his fists over and over and taking long deep breaths in front of the mirror in the bathroom in an attempt to ground himself and get his head on straight. 
He's no good to you if he lets himself fall apart. His team - and more importantly, you - are counting on him.
You know he’s blaming himself and you’re both going to need therapy once this whole experience is over with. 
He would go into his hyper-rational mode, focusing on making plans and ignoring anything that isn’t getting you back safe and sound - which means no sleep. None. He’s running on fumes and caffeine - even after you’re found. 
It would take days for him to feel secure enough to close his eyes and be able to trust you’ll still be there when he opens them again. 
Also you best believe he is breaking out his old law text books and ensuring this UnSub goes down for a lonnnnnng time… if they even make it to trial that is. This man is a trained sniper and knows other trained snipers… just saying… 
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David Rossi 
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He may like to remind you all of his passionate Italian nature from time to time but it’s impossible to miss when he hears what’s happened to you. He’s an emotional mess, staggering between horror and rage to a frighteningly cold determination that is rare for the eldest team member.  
He’d try to act in control, pulling rank on everyone - including Hotch, which obviously doesn’t work. 
“No offence, Aaron, but I was chasing down Unsubs when you were still in diapers. I know what I’m doing.”
However, they know him well enough to see that despite having years of experience under his belt, Rossi is terrified of making some kind of mistake. 
Once they do find you, he’d be one of the first through the door, too concerned with checking you’re ok to worry about anything else. 
He’d also be sure to pay for the best medical care money could buy, if you needed it following the ordeal.
He also knows people and has no problem paying for you to see a counsellor of some sort if the situation required it. He just wants to take care of you now that you’re back in his arms again. 
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Derek Morgan
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This man is like a whole military unit in himself at the best of times, but he’s a whole other level of lethal when it comes to protecting the ones he loves. You do NOT want to be on the wrong side of Morgan, and that’s exactly where the Unsub who took you would sit. 
There isn’t a door he wouldn’t be willing to kick down to get you - and everybody knows better than to say a word about it. (Hotch is already mentally filling out all the paperwork he’s going to need once this rescue is done, but he doesn’t exactly mind, given the situation).
Also, Morgan may have trained you himself, drilling you in self-defence and marksmanship so you’d known how to protect yourself out there in the field, but none of that matters now. You may have the Unsub at your mercy already, or you may be at theirs, but he doesn’t know and that’s what’s killing him: the not knowing. 
It’s why Penelope is basically glued to his side the whole entire time, telling him everything she finds out the very second she finds it.  
“We’ll find them sugar, I promise. They’re just as tough and strong as you are, so don’t give up on them, ok?”
He’d be leading the pack once you are found though, tearing through anyone and anything that stood in his way. All he cares about is seeing you with his own eyes and getting you as far away from danger as possible. 
“I’m so sorry, baby. It’s my job to keep you safe and I failed you.”
He’d be beating himself up for weeks after and it would take an entire team intervention to get him to let you go back out into the field again without him being glued to your side. After all, he’s not making the same mistake twice. Any Unsub wants that wants to get close to you will have to get past him first. 
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Emily Prentiss
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This woman is a super spy and a lethal weapon on an average day but if you were taken? Then she would be the most dangerous woman in the entire United States. 
She knows people in every agency and on every continent so you best believe she will be calling in favours left, right and centre. (Even Rossi is terrified by how quickly she was able to get the Pentagon on the phone…)
She would also be action-focused, needing to do something rather than sitting around wasting time. Every minute spent talking was one more minute the Unsub had to hurt you - and that thought makes her feel physically sick. 
This would end up causing her to explode, taking it out on whichever unfortunate soul is closest. Like, you know she would definitely have to be reminded by Hotch that they actually need the local law enforcement to work with them, if they want to get you back alive, after she is seen screaming at an unfortunate officer for their ‘utter stupidity’. 
Thankfully, she gets to turn that rage on the Unsub after they find you. I mean, let’s be real. It would take Morgan physically holding her back to stop her from beating their face in. 
This frustration would ultimately then be transferred to you, once she knows you’re safe. 
You almost can quote her ‘You almost died’ speech by this point, but you know it makes you both feel better to hear it so you let her rant and rant until she’s calm enough to crawl into your arms and squeeze you close. 
“I love you so much. I can’t lose you.” 
You’re also pretty sure she now has people following you at all times, watching over you when she can’t, so that this never happens again. 
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JJ
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JJ is every bit as lethal as Emily is when those she loves are at risk. If anything, she’s more terrifying because she’ll hide that murderous rage behind a ‘butter-wouldn’t-melt’ smile before deciding to strike. 
However, it would take everything in her not to just charge in and go on the offensive. After all, she was willing to run into a bank full of armed robbers after Will. 
It would probably end up with the team having to physically holding her back to stop her - usually accompanied by a well meaning pep talk about how she needs to get her head on straight if she actually wants to help get you back. 
You know this woman would follow you everywhere afterwards, never letting you out of her sight. In fact, she hits ‘super Mom mode’ where she is constantly fussing over you and seems to have the world in her go-bag. 
You need tissues, pain-killers, chocolate: she got it.
“Hey, it’s ok. You know I’ve got your back, right? I won’t let anything else happen to you. You’re safe now.”
She would also call you out on all your BS, if you tried to downplay what happened to you or if you were still affected. 
One twitch of her eyebrow is all it takes for her to have you pinned to your chair and spilling your guts about your emotions. You know better than to make her ask twice. After all, she may be the first to downplay it when she’s hurting but when it comes to her team and her family, she’d do anything to take care of you. If that’s driving your ass to therapy or just holding you, she’ll do it without complaint.
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Penelope Garcia 
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Would immediately panic as soon as she hears what’s happened to you. Like, we’re talking SO much panic.
Poor girl is spiralling and needs the team to help ground her so she can get back to the lair and do her thing. It would probably be down to Morgan or like JJ to get her to actually remember to breathe and not make herself pass out. 
But once she’s up and running? Well, she’d be all over the Unsub like a bad rash. Every teeny tiny detail of their life is suddenly unearthed and splashed on the 
board for everyone to see. (No one dares ask how she found certain items, but knowing her history with the dark web it’s probably for the best). 
Also, she would be begging for constant updates once the team is out in the field.  Any other day, it would drive the team insane to have a constant running Penelope monologue in their ears, but they’re surprisingly tolerant in this case. 
“Guys, do you see them? Are they ok? What’s going on? I need to know people! I have no eyes here!” 
Would be all over you once you’re safe and insists on installing tracking software on everything. She wants a digital link to you, 24/7 so that this NEVER happens again. It’s simultaneously flattering and slightly terrifying how much power this angel has at the end of her glittery, manicured fingers. 
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Dr Spencer Reid
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Depending on which season-Reid you’re with when you’re taken, you would have a distraught super genius who makes it his life’s mission to get you back. Or, you’d have a prison-hardened super genius with a slightly grey-er view of the world on a mission to find you. 
Either way, there’s probably no one you’d want more to be in charge of locating and rescuing you. 
Like Hotch, I feel he would become obsessed with nothing other than finding you. He wouldn’t eat. He wouldn’t sleep. Hell, no one on the team has even seen him leave the briefing room long enough to go pee, let alone take a break. This results in the team all taking it in turns to be parental figures and coax (and eventually threaten) him into pausing long enough to down a glass of water and eat some snack bar. 
Between Morgan’s physical threats, JJ’s guilt-trips, and Hotch threatening to bench him from this case, they’d eventually succeed. 
“You guys don’t get it. They need me. I have to figure this out - they’re counting on me. I can’t fail them. I won’t. So either help me or get out of here and let me think.”
We all know he would probably harass any medical professionals charged with caring for you, once you’re back. He doesn’t trust them - especially when it comes to your welfare. 
He’d also confine you to the couch and force you to rest, queueing up endless re-runs of Doctor Who and whatever shows you find most comforting to have playing in the background. It’s selfishly what he needs too, being able to sit and hold you long enough to quell any fears he may have about you and your wellbeing. You’re here and you’re real and you’re safe. 
Masterlist
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violetrainbow412-blog · 10 months
Text
Wearing pink [S. R.]
Spencer Reid x bimbo!reader
word count: 2.7k
request: Hear me out... Spencer introducing bimbo f!reader to the squad! 😭🩷
A/N: Honestly, I had never written anything like this and I hope it is the correct idea of a bimbo. I based her on some TV characters, so (if you're a fan of this type of reader) I hope you like it!
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“Baby, you're so nervous,” Spencer giggled, listening to the click of your heels from one side of the apartment to the other to check that everything was in order.
“I'm not nervous, I just want everything to look nice” you complained. Your gaze went to your boyfriend, who was wearing an elegant suit that you had bought for him last month, and you noticed that his tie was a little crooked. You immediately went in front of him and your hands acted on their own to accommodate it, as they had done so many times.
It was the first time Spencer's unit mates would see you and you wanted to make the best impression of all. You kept asking if the dishes looked good, if your skirt was smooth, if your hair was combed, if your makeup looked good. And each time he just smiled and nodded, recording how precious you were.
Honestly, the fact that the team found out about your existence was mere coincidence, the result of an unfortunate event that ended up unmasking Spencer. He had spent the night with you, since the cases had kept him too busy the last few weeks, and when he left the room, he only gave you a kiss on the forehead so as not to disturb your sleep. Although he wasn't very hungry, his body was in desperate need of coffee, so he opened your cupboard for something to take back to the office. Everything in your kitchen, which you hardly ever used, was pink, lilac, or any pastel variation of a few others, so it was a relief for him to find a single black thermos. Without paying much attention, he took it, poured the hot liquid, and then walked out.
There was no case, yet, so he sat down at his desk after waving to Morgan and Emily. He felt his phone vibrate and he thought it was a message from JJ, but he found that it was you who was contacting him.
Hey, are you leaving without saying goodbye? 
He smiled inadvertently and apologized saying that you looked so pretty that he hadn't wanted to disturb your calm. I could almost imagine you blushing from your soft bed.
Okay then. Good luck today, handsome. 
Love u xx
"No way! Are you a plastic girl?" Garcia yelled, from his partner's side. Spencer jumped a little when he heard her and it seemed she had caught everyone's attention.
“A what?”
"Your cup" the woman stretched out her hand to pick up said object and showed it to the rest: it had a bright pink print, with some images of a blonde girl and various objects, including a text written with something like newspaper clippings. which enunciated Burn Book.
"Where did you get that, Reid?"
"Who is she?"
“It's Regina George, from the movie Mean Girls. You don’t know her?" Prentiss muttered and at first, he immediately denied it.
“On Wednesdays we wear pink,” Garcia quoted, hoping he would have a clue, and again he showed he didn't know what they were talking about. But after taking a closer look at it, he suddenly remembered that he had looked at a poster with her somewhere in your room and it all made sense.
“When I took it, it was black”
"It's probably one of those magical cups that reveal the image with heat"
“Thermochromism?”
"I guess that's the scientific term"
"So where did you get it from? Did it just show up at your house by chance?"
"No, it was at my girlfriend's house"
At that, Emily's eyes widened, Garcia gasped loudly, and Morgan, who inconveniently just took a gulp of his coffee, almost choked on the hot liquid.
Penelope almost took the doctor by the neck to ask him why he had omitted such important information and he only shrugged his shoulders and replied that he had never commented on it because they had never asked.
It didn't take long for Garcia to yell at the missing team members what they had just found out and pretty soon JJ and Rossi were also gathered around the man to find out what was going on. To everyone's dismay, Hotch interrupted almost immediately, and they didn't manage to ask Spencer any questions. And he said it would be better if they were that curious to ask her themselves.
“Reid, I swear you don't even introduce us to that girl I'll never talk to you again” Garcia had threatened him, clearly exaggerating just to convince him.
When Spencer saw you again, he filled you in on the whole situation and asked if you were okay with hosting a unit dinner, to which you happily agreed.
"Everything looks immaculate, you don't have to worry," he assured you, taking both of your hands and leaning in to kiss you.
"But what if they don't like me?"
"What reason would they have for that, huh?" he insisted, holding your face in his hands. He really liked your lip gloss, it always tasted delicious and made your lips look flawless. 
"Because they're like mega-cool detectives and I... well, I won't even know what to tell them."
"Let them ask the questions, I assure you they will be dying to know everything about you" he smiled at you, quite confident that the evening would go perfectly. It was the first time Spencer had introduced the team to a couple, so they would behave prudently. Or at least so he hoped.
The sound of the doorbell caught your attention and you practically jumped towards the door to open it for whoever was there, but not before asking your boyfriend for the thousandth time to make sure you looked good. When you opened it, you saw a blonde woman and a bald man who, from Spencer's stories, you assumed were Penelope Garcia and Derek Morgan. They asked your name and you agreed, finishing verifying that it was the place with the presence of your friend behind you.
"Hello! We thought we had the wrong house” she sighed, completely nervous, and Morgan didn't even say hello because he had been stunned to see you.
You were very pretty, generally speaking, you were wearing a white skirt, a tight top, and a light baby pink sweater, plus huge heels that made you almost level with your boyfriend. You were like a model and it's not that he didn't trust his friend's flirting skills, but that you had simply exceeded his expectations of him.
You received them with a hug and a kiss on the cheek, while they secretly observed the place. Hotch, Rossi, Prentiss, and JJ soon arrived, in exactly that order, and when they were all assembled, they took seats at the table. Spencer helped you serve dinner, which you had ordered from your favorite restaurant, and pretty soon all of you were eating and drinking the wine that David Rossi had brought as a gift.
Although the conversation had been pleasant during the first few minutes, it was obvious that everyone wanted to ask you questions, quite surprised to see the type of girl you were and how they never imagined that their friend would fit in with someone like that.
"So since when are you guys dating?" Emily murmured, trying to be nice, but also dying of curiosity.
"What will they be now, love? About six months?” you said, reaching out to hold his hand on the table.
“Six months, fourteen days, and seventeen hours”
"He's the mathematician here, so you can listen to him" you joked and the others laughed. The courtship time somewhat dismayed the team, because, although they didn’t blame him, they wished they had known sooner.
"And how did you two meet?"
“Oh, for my dad. Spencer went to give a conference to his police officers in New York a while ago and he asked him for a private consultation on a case that had been giving everyone a headache. When he helped him figure it out, Dad was so grateful that he invited him to dinner so he could meet our family. My parents loved him so I thought of it as a sign and we kept in touch after that."
"Now I understand why he kept looking at his phone and smiling in his spare time," Morgan muttered to embarrass him, like an older brother would, and the team laughed at the memory.
"And who is your father?" Rossi asked. Reid had never mentioned what had happened, but still you seemed familiar to the man, as if he had seen you somewhere before.
“He worked for a few years as a police chief here in Virginia, but now last year he got promoted to the commissioner or something; his name is Joseph Sanders”
You probably had no idea how important that position was to police officers, but they all exchanged glances as if you had just told them that you were the daughter of the President of the United States himself. Rossi immediately snapped his fingers as he winced, telling you that of course he knew your father and that he had seen you when you were a girl of maybe ten years old. The others only weighed in on the fact that Reid was now the commissioner's son-in-law.
“Hey and, no offense, but how did you fall in love with our boy wonder? He's always been a bit shy”
Now it was your boyfriend who was worried that they might make him uncomfortable or point out the clear difference between the two of you, but your carefree giggles put him at ease every time.
"It is enough to see that face to do it, don't you think?" you responded affectionately and the girls smiled at your response.
"Actually, she called me to invite me to have coffee after dinner with her father and although at first I thought it was hopeless I realized that she liked spending time with me and that's why I kept asking her out”
“He was so sweet. Flowers, chocolates, dinners. The whole package"
“Yes, well, it's that I did a little research on the best courtship methods and found common factors like that in most of them. It was only necessary to combine it with the right environment and make some modifications to them so that they were pleasant in front of you. Did you know that in the 19th century it was well seen that men…?”
"Reid," Derek interrupted, as a signal for him to stop rambling, and his friends smiled at the doctor's soft apology.
“Half the time I don't understand what he's saying, but I love hearing him talk,” you said sincerely. He had never taken that as an offense, because, although many people didn't understand his talks about him either, at least you always paid attention to him "I honestly don't know how a person can have a brain of that size"
“In fact, brains don’t vary in size but rather in areas of development, so it is incorrect to say that one person has a bigger brain than another. In such a case, one person has a more developed brain than the other”
The group looked at him accusingly again and he was about to feel guilty, but your lips crashing a kiss on his cheek considerably improved his mood.
After many more questions, everyone was able to realize that you and Spencer couldn't be more than complete opposites. You loved everything that Reid didn't know and he knew a lot of things that didn't matter to you. There were no books in your house, if glossy magazines counted for anything, and Spencer didn't even have a modern cell phone. Your house vibrated with pink and expensive things, while he only cared that there would be a bed to sleep in when he got home. But even with everything you looked really in love and the team wondered how that was possible.
Although you tremendously admired the man's capabilities that wasn’t the most important thing to you, but his wonderful beauty of him. He was someone who drew attention with his eccentricity, that every time he walked into a room he left a mark and someone many women wished they had, which he didn't even notice. And by becoming your boyfriend, without any explicit sense of ownership or anything, he had become all yours.
You liked holding his hand in the streets, you liked that he came to work and the clients were surprised when he kissed you, that everyone said how lucky you were to have found a man like that. Besides, he had passed one of the most important tests: he had your parents' approval, which was usually not an easy thing to come by.
And right now, it seemed that you were winning the sympathy of your boyfriend's family too, because the fact of seeing him so happy by your side was reason enough for them to like you and, therefore, also approve of you.
When it was time to eat dessert, the girls invited you to go shopping with them one day and all the compliments from the men were related to your last name, even astonished that Spencer now belonged to the spheres of high police society. They told you many things about themselves and you, with some effort, tried to take it all in.
"It was a great pleasure meeting you, you can come back here any day you like," you said to say goodbye, once the night was already quite advanced and they decided that the best thing (for the comfort of both the hosts and the guests) would be to leave. 
“The pleasure was ours, Y/N”
Just like at the beginning, they kissed your cheek, and one by one they left, giving you kind words of thanks, until only you and Spencer were left.
"How was I?" you immediately asked your boyfriend, who was already looking at you out of the corner of his eye with a smile.
“Perfect”
"You think so?"
"I know it" he assured you, moving closer to you to hold you by the waist and causing your skirt to ride a little higher to the height of your butt "They loved you"
“But can you believe your friend Emily was wearing flats with that dress? It's not right and I didn't mean to be rude by mentioning it, but I died when I saw it” you started to babble, still under Spencer's grasp “And your friend Penelope has such a…quirky style. She wears colors that shouldn't mix, but somehow it looks good on her. And your boss, Aaron, shouldn't wear a suit jacket with a casual shirt. The others were relatively good, but the next time I see Jennifer I'll be sure to treat her to a moisturizer for her skin”
"And leaving that aside, did they at least make a good impression on you?" he laughed. He wasn't upset with you, it was inevitable that you would notice that kind of 'signs of bad taste' as you called them.
“Oh, they are adorable. You can tell that they love you very much, everyone speaks with admiration of you. Even your friend Derek, even though he tried to annoy you every so often."
“Yeah, I'll make him pay” he muttered under his breath, making you smile.
Carefully you reached up to reach his lips with a kiss and he sighed pathetically into your mouth as you clung to his body. Your skin was so smooth wherever he touched, as if you were a delicate piece of porcelain in his big hands.
“I hope you had a good time”
“Of course I did, sweetie. I already told you, you were perfect"
Perfect. You loved that he described you that way.
"Do you have to go home?"
"Probably. Why?"
"Oh, it's nothing. I just thought maybe we could go to my room. I bought something new that I think you'll like” you said innocently, while you held him by the tie that you had arranged so carefully at the beginning of the evening. Upon hearing this, he wasted no time and carried you in a bridal pose, taking you there while you laughed out loud.
No one questioned Spencer when he arrived later than usual the next morning, smelling of cherry shampoo and with a suspicious purplish mark, knowing that the only one to blame for that would have to be you.
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taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14
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alessiasfreckles · 3 months
Note
could you do kiss roulette 32 with alessia?
official - alessia russo x reader
32. a kiss while someone watches
------
60,160 people. that's how many people were at the emirates stadium today. it was a sold out game, over 60,000 people there to watch you and your teammates play.
alessia had been nervous. she had told you last night, when the two of you were cuddled up together, trying to go to bed early to get a full night of sleep before the game against man united.
"i hated it, last time," she admitted to you, voice small. "when everyone was booing me. i know it's just a part of the game, but still."
your heart broke for her. "you'll get your chance tomorrow. everyone's going to be cheering so loudly for you, baby."
and they did. the crowd was deafening when she came on as a substitute in the second half, roaring and cheering for her. you were cheering too. you were the second person to be subbed off, coming off as she was coming on, and you reached out and squeezed her hand as you passed each other on the pitch.
you didn't mind that you'd been subbed off and that you weren't going to be able to play together. if anything, you loved watching her play almost more than you loved playing with her, watching the way she'd run after the ball with so much power and focus.
"i really want to score tomorrow," she had said. "i mean, i always want to score, but i think scoring tomorrow would just be really really special, you know?"
that's why you were so frustrated when it wasn't happening for her. she kept trying to get close to the ball, you could see that, but her former team had clearly been given a talking to during half time, and were determined not to let any more goals through. still, you cheered loudly for her whenever you had the opportunity, as did the fans.
when the game ended 3-1, you ran onto the pitch with the rest of your teammates to celebrate. finding alessia quickly and pulling her into a tight hug, you could see that she was disappointed about her lack of goal but happy about the result.
"can i kiss you tomorrow?" she had asked.
"at the game?" you raised your eyebrows. it would be the first time the two of you had kissed in public. your teammates knew about the two of you, but alessia had wanted to keep it private for the time being, knowing how chaotic things would become once you made your relationship public.
"yeah," she nodded. "it's okay if you don't want to, though."
"no, no, i want to!" you quickly insisted.
"okay," she said, smiling. "i might change my mind though, depending on how the game goes. i hope that's okay."
"of course," you'd said.
the two of you hadn't spoken any more about it, focusing on the game itself. you left it up to your girlfriend whether she wanted to kiss you or not, so when she didn't make any moves to do so after the game, you accepted it without question. you smiled as lessi took off her shirt and gave it to a fan, laughing and chatting to your teammates as you all celebrated the 3 points you'd won.
as everyone began milling out of the stadium and off the pitch, you hung back, waiting for your girlfriend, who was still talking to some of her former teammates and colleagues. when she was done, she ran over to you, smiling, and grabbed your hand.
"hi," you said. "ready to head out?"
"almost, just one last thing i have to do," she told you, and pulled you into a kiss, right there, on the pitch. it was a soft, quick kiss, so quick that anyone who wasn't looking when she did it would have missed it. you both knew that at least some people would have seen it though, and the cheers from the fans who were still in the stands confirmed it.
"okay," she said, squeezing your hand. "now i'm ready to go."
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allmyn1ghts · 6 months
Text
Shield's First Lady ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚
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The Shield x Fem!Reader (platonically)
Synopsis: just a little hc about being the first and only lady of shield!!
Warnings: fluff and some angst
a/n: missing my boys and 2013-15 real bad yall!!
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you absolutely loved your boys
at first, you were really iffy about the idea Triple H presented
"I want you to be Shield's First Lady! I think you being with the guys would be a perfect fit."
you didn't really want to be in a group or associated with one. But you decided to go ahead with the idea
You barely talked to Roman before but Seth and Dean were foreign to you.
"It's so nice to meet you all, I'm sure this is gonna be super fun for all of us!" 
The three men were nothing but sweetheart to you. always polite, making sure you were good
from that moment, you knew you had made the right choice
your role was pretty simple, the fearless badass of the group 
you would stand ringside for almost every match whether it be singles, tag, or all three of them. sometimes distract the ref so they can pull an illegal move ;)
every backstage segment had all four of you in it chilling in your custom locker room, getting ready for a match, etc...
promos always had you on the mic
"Shield is taking over the WWE. We have the Tag Team titles, the United States Championship, the Divas championship, My boys and I are unstoppable"
the fans absolutely loved Shield (you were the fan favorite)
yall had become a little family!
the four of you always went out after shows, having a blast
when the boys would get into stupid little arguments, you were the mediator
"C'mon guys enough! We're family. act like it!" 
when you got loud, oh they listened for sure. They knew not to piss you off
don't be fooled though, they loved you more
What you did for them ringside, they did for you.
Every time you won, they would slide into the ring and hold you up on their shoulders.
they always made you laugh at their silly side convos 
Everything was good
until it wasn't
The day Seth betrayed you all, was the day your heart broke
"Seth what are you doing?! How could you do this to us?! We're family!"
You looked him in his eyes, slapping him across the face. He had nothing to say but a smirk on his face. 
Seth not only betrayed you but his brothers too, his family.
Shield was never the same for any of you after that day. 
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hope yall enjoyed this lil hc! comment and reblog pls and thank u <33
request - masterlist - about me - who I write for
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shardsofmarxx · 4 months
Text
Sleep Well | Spencer Reid x Fem! Reader
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Criminal Minds songfic based on/inspired by the song Sleep Well by d4ad. Angst/fluff
Summary: After having an argument with Spencer, you storm to your hotel for the night so you can get some sleep and take your mind off the argument, but you end up having a bad nightmare and you don’t know who else to call… (Told from reader's POV)
Warnings: Nightmares, violence, argument, general CM themes. (Nothing too graphic.)
Word Count: 3.2K
A/N: My first fic!!! I'm so excited to start sharing my writing with you guys, and I really hope you all enjoy this fic! I'm planning on making songfics a regular thing on my blog, so feel free to request any songs you'd like me to write about in my ask box! (As well as any other things you'd like me to write about.)
As you were putting on your bulletproof vest in the conference room, you heard someone open the door. You looked over to see Spencer glaring over at you, his bulletproof vest already on.
“What are you doing?” he asked in an accusatory manner, clearly bothered by something. 
You paused for a few moments, confused and taken aback by his tone. “I’m getting ready to head out with the rest of the team. Is something wrong?”
“What's wrong is that you're getting ready to go to the field when you know you're not supposed to.” 
You let out a small sigh, realizing what this was about. Technically, he was right; you weren't allowed to be back in the field for another few days due to the ear injuries you sustained when a bomb went off a little too close for comfort during one of the BAU’s cases about a month ago. However, you were very careful in your day-to-day life, and the doctor said you were making rapid progress in terms of your healing.
“Spence, I only have a handful of days left, and considering the kind of unsub we're dealing with, I'm sure it's fine.” You paused for a few moments before continuing. “Plus, I have earplugs,” you said while turning your head in both directions so he could see them. Unfortunately, he still wasn't convinced.
“It doesn't matter, Y/N; you haven't been cleared by a doctor yet, so you can't go out into the field. You should just focus your attention here,” he said while pointing at all the photos and paperwork sprawled around us in the conference room. “You should look it over; there might’ve been something we missed.”
You raised your eyebrows at him and let out a snort. “That's the best excuse you have, Spence? I appreciate the concern, but I'm going. This unsub is highly dangerous, and we need all the help we can get.”
"No, you're not,” he replied sternly.
“Who died and made you Unit Chief?” you scoffed, feeling your annoyance growing. “I'm going with you guys, whether you like it or not. I'm a grown woman, and I can handle myself just fine.
Although Spencer had a tendency to be stubborn, his behavior right now was foreign. You began walking toward the door, and just as you were about to grip the doorknob, you felt Spencer’s firm grasp wrap around your wrist. You looked over to see him staring at you coldly.
“Y/N, you're not going. I can't let you put yourself in danger.”
You suddenly felt your blood boil. Who did he think he was to act like this? To grab you and order you around? Treat you like you didn't know how to take care of yourself? 
You snatched your wrist away and quickly turned to face him. "Actually, Reid, I'm going to go wherever I please, seeing as you have no authority over me whatsoever.” You were silent for a few moments until the perfect remark suddenly came to mind. “Somebody obviously needs to work on respecting boundaries,” you said slyly, opening up the door to leave, but he spoke up, stopping you in your tracks once more.
"Well, somebody obviously needs to work on following orders,” he muttered.
That was it. Your annoyance and anger finally bubbled over, and you lost it. You both began going back and forth, snapping snarky remarks at one another with no mercy whatsoever, your words piercing each other like knives. 
“You just can't put aside your fucking stubbornness for the good of the team, can you, Reid?”
You could tell that those words hit him hard because from one moment to the next, his whole demeanor changed. “I can't put aside my stubbornness?” He said quietly, breathing shakily as he did. 
He spoke up once more, this time at a much louder volume. “You're the one who can't put aside your stubbornness, Y/N! You can't admit the fact that you're not currently fit to do your job, and your stupidity is putting yourself and the entire team at risk!”
You begin to open your mouth, ready to retort, but he cuts you off. “Face it, Y/N, you're weak!” He was practically screaming at this point, the veins in his neck sticking out as they pulsed rapidly. Suddenly all you heard was a sharp ringing, and you fell to the floor, tightly clutching your ears in an attempt to make it stop. As if on cue, Derek ran in to diffuse the situation. 
Caught up in his anger, Spencer spoke again, still yelling. “See?! This is what I'm talking about. If you can't handle me raising my voice, how are you going to go in the-”
“Reid!” Derek yelled, your whole body wincing as he did. 
“Give it a rest; can't you see she's in pain?” He said harshly, turning his attention back to you immediately. He helped you stand up, and you quietly thanked him before turning to Reid.
“Well, you got what you wanted,” you said softly as you removed your bulletproof vest. “Good luck out there, Dr. Reid.” Your tone was full of dejection and defeat as you placed the vest on the table. You didn't even bother looking at him or Derek as you walked out of the conference room, through the bullpen, and out of the precinct.
You ended up walking outside for a while before deciding to actually head to the hotel. The night air soothed your soul and brought you comfort as you wandered the streets aimlessly. However, you knew you couldn't stay out there forever, no matter how much you wanted to.
When you walked into your hotel room, you placed your stuff down on a small lounge chair and flopped onto your bed, letting out a large sigh. You remembered you had turned your phone off once you walked out of the precinct since you desperately needed space, so you grabbed it out of your bag and turned it back on just to make sure you hadn’t missed anything important. 
You had a few missed calls from Derek and Garcia, along with a text from Hotch.
“Take the night off. We'll talk first thing tomorrow morning.”
You let out a groan, knowing what that message entailed. You decided to shower before heading to bed, hoping the water would cleanse you of what you were feeling.
You step into the shower and are welcomed by warm water, instantly feeling at ease as it falls on your cool skin. Unfortunately, the feeling doesn't last long as your mind wanders back to the argument. You didn't understand why Spencer was so frustrated, so stubborn, and so mean to you. His words continued to echo in your head, and you eventually broke down, bawling your eyes out from the sheer pain you felt inside. The fact that he called you weak shattered your heart into a million tiny pieces. You guys had been close friends for years, and that's what he thought of you? Really? You felt stupid and betrayed, especially because you've had a huge crush on him for years now. All that love, care, and admiration felt like it amounted to nothing now.
Wanting to just put this awful night to end, you turned off the shower and continued getting ready for bed. You grabbed your pajamas out of your go-bag and lazily went through the rest of your nighttime routine. You then walked out of the bathroom and dropped on the bed in defeat, falling asleep as soon as you slipped under the covers.
You and Spencer walked quietly through the dark warehouse, the cool, eerie air causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. You scanned the hallway with your flashlights and guns in hand, only to be met with nothing in each room you had checked. You reached the end of the hallway and slowly moved your hand over to twist the doorknob before you heard Spencer yell from the room behind you.
“Y/N!!! Hel-!”
You raced to him only to find the unsub holding him at gunpoint. Spencer had a few cuts on his face, probably from being pistol whipped.
“Drop the gun right now, or I will shoot,” you said sternly, aiming your pistol right at his head.
“Ah, not quite! Place your weapon over on that table, or your lovely partner here gets a bullet to the brain,” he spoke, motioning his gun over to the small wooden table to your left. Having no other choice, you walked over and placed your gun on the table, turning back around to face the unsub.
“Good girl! Now, allow me to take care of one small thing before we begin,” he said, directing his attention to Spencer. He hit Spencer over the head with his gun, using as much force as he could muster. Spencer immediately dropped to the floor, and you screamed.
“Shhh, don't fret, darling; now the real fun can begin,” he said as he slowly walked over to you. His ominous tone sent chills down your spine. 
“You see, the only reason any of this happened..." He paused for a few moments, looking you dead in the eyes as he said his next words, “is because you're weak.” Immediately, he swung his gun across your face, causing you to fall to the floor. He began kicking you, yelling at you as each kick landed.
“You're” kick “just” kick “a weak” kick “bitch.”
Your whole body writhed in pain, praying one of your teammates would come to rescue you and Spencer. As the unsub continued, all you could do was look at Spencer and feel flooded with guilt. 
After what seemed like forever, the unsub brought the beatings to a halt and proceeded to walk back over to Spencer.
“And now, the grand finale!”
You used all your force to croak out a small “no” as you watched him stand behind Spencer and inch the gun towards his head, preparing to shoot him. He cocked the gun and then turned to face you.
“Remember, this is all happening because you're a weak FBI agent who couldn't do her job,” he said coldly. “The only reason I'm keeping you alive is so that you can watch this and know that it's nobody's fault but yours. Your weakness is to blame, and your consequence is to live with the guilt of your mistakes.” You watched him bring the gun to Spencer’s head and pull the trigger as you wailed. 
Suddenly, you were back in the hotel room, your clothes soaked with sweat. You were shaking like a leaf and rapidly hyperventilating, feeling like your heart was going to burst out of your chest from how hard and fast it was beating. 
You instinctively reached for your phone and called Spencer, your heart rate increasing each time the phone rang.
Suddenly, it stopped.
“Hey Y/N.”
As his words echoed through your head, you felt a sense of both relief and dread. You realized that you had just had a terrible nightmare and that Spencer was completely fine. However, you were also immediately reminded of the argument you had with him earlier and suddenly froze. 
“Y/N? Are you there?” Spencer spoke once more, only to be met by silence.
“Y/N, is everything alright?”
Not knowing what to do, you hung up the phone and threw it across the room, sinking back into the covers almost immediately. You couldn't believe that this night had somehow managed to get worse. You wanted to scream as you felt the tears creep up behind your eyes, feeling absolutely helpless and worthless.
You felt weak, just like Spencer said you were.
You let out soft sobs into your pillow, not knowing what else to do with all the emotional turmoil stewing inside you. You thought about calling Garcia or Derek, but quickly realized they'd be either working or asleep, and bothering them was the last thing you wanted to do right now. You continued to cry, hoping you'd tire yourself out and eventually fall asleep between sobs. 
Surprisingly, you actually ended up falling asleep, but it didn't last long. You were suddenly awoken by a series of knocks on your door, the noise causing you to sit up in bed. You sat in silence for a few seconds, staring at the door and wondering if you had just imagined the noise. You knew you were wrong when you heard a few more knocks, along with Spencer’s soft voice.
“Y/N?” knock. knock. knock. “Please let me in; I want to talk.”
You were in shock. Why was he at your hotel room so late at night? You felt your heart race and your body shake as you tried to figure out what to do. You knew you two had to talk at some point, and you did really miss him, but you didn't want him to see you. Not like this. Your eyes were red, puffy, and swollen from all the crying; your hair was messy; and you were wearing an old baggy t-shirt and shorts. 
Basically, you looked like crap.
Despite all this, you knew you had to let him in. You reluctantly got out of bed and approached the door, twisting the handle and slowly opening the door to meet Spencer’s eyes.
He quickly rushed into the room, his urgency taking you by surprise. Once he was inside and had put his stuff down, he began examining every inch of you with an intense, worried gaze. He could tell you were in pain, and the worst part was that he knew it was his fault. 
"Reid,” you croaked, clearing your throat before continuing your sentence. “What are you doing here?”
He began fidgeting with his fingers, thinking of a reply. He looked so meek compared to the argument earlier.
“You called a little while ago,” he said softly. “I spoke multiple times, and you never said a word. I had tried calling you afterwards, and you wouldn't answer.” His eyes met mine. “I was worried about you.”
“Well, as you can see, I'm perfectly fine, so you can leave now.”
“Y/N, please-” You cut him off before he could finish his sentence.
“Reid, it's late. You need to leave” you said sternly, swallowing your tears as you practically pushed him toward the door.
Before you could open the door, you felt him wrap his arms around you, causing you to freeze. He began to speak, practically whispering in your ear.
“Y/N, please. I can tell you're not okay, and I know I'm to blame. Let me make it right, please."
Maybe it was how distraught and desperate he sounded as he spoke, or maybe it was because you were finally in his warm embrace after missing him for so long, but you couldn’t hold back your tears any longer. Spencer just held you as you cried softly, trying to comfort you any way he could while he waited for you to calm down.
“Can we go to the bed, please?” you requested softly.
Spencer gave you a small nod with a weak smile. “Of course, Y/N.”
You walked over and laid down on the bed, shifting your body away from the edge of the bed and then patting your hand down on the empty space, urging Spencer to follow suit. He took off his shoes and gently laid down next to you, wrapping his arm around your shoulder as you placed your head on his chest. The sound of his heartbeat soothed you as you listened to its echo in his chest. 
“So why did you end up calling tonight?” He asked softly, running his hands through your hair as he spoke.
You took a deep breath before answering, doing your best to maintain your composure, or whatever you had left of it.
“I, um, had a nightmare. We were on a case and…” Your voice trailed as the nightmare flooded your thoughts. “It was a bad one. I had to make sure you were okay, so I called you as soon as I had woken up. Once I heard your voice, I was reminded of our argument from earlier and realized I just had a nightmare, and I froze.”
You then explained the entire nightmare in detail, a few tears escaping your eyes as that horrid scene replayed in your head. Spencer just listened the whole time as he held you, stroking your hair or holding you a little tighter at times while you spoke.
Once you finished, he opened his mouth to speak. “Y/N… I'm so sorry. I never wanted to argue with you; I just couldn’t handle the thought of you getting hurt again, and I snapped.” His voice was shaky as he spoke. 
“I thought I had lost you in the bombing, and I couldn't let you get hurt again, not if I could do something about it. I care about you too much to let you get hurt again.” He paused for a few moments before continuing. "But I spiraled, and I was wrong. I ended up hurting you anyway.”
You opened your mouth to speak, but he began talking again before you could even get a syllable out.
“You're not weak; you're one of the strongest people I know. You're strong, brave, and courageous, and I admire you so much.” His voice began to choke. “I never wanted you to think you're weak because you're so far from it. I'm so, so sorry."
Now, you were both crying in each other's arms, holding each other tightly as you each whispered words of comfort into the other’s ear in between your sobs. At one point, you both coincidentally lifted your heads up and locked eyes with each other, causing both of you to laugh at how much of a wreck both of you looked.
“We look like shit,” you said, catching your breath from that sudden fit of laughter. 
“Yeah, we sure do.”
Spencer’s gaze suddenly changed, and he had a similar look of sadness from earlier as he spoke his next words. “Well, I should probably get going, shouldn’t I?” He got up, but you reached for his wrist before he could go too far.
“Um, this is probably wildly unprofessional and all, but could you spend the night with me, Spence?” You could feel the blush on your face burn your skin as you waited for his response. 
“Of course, Y/N. I’d love to stay the night,” he replied warmly, bringing a smile to your face.
You both went into the bathroom and got yourselves cleaned up. Spencer changed into his pajamas and quickly joined you in bed. He laid down and wrapped his arms around your waist, tucking his head into your shoulder, right by your ear. Just as you were dozing off, you heard him murmur something into your ear.
“I love you, Y/N.”
You suddenly felt your whole body get hot and instantly turned around, wondering if you were just hearing things.
“What did you say, Spencer?”
“I said I love you. I love you and care about you so much, and from now on, I’m going to spend every second of every day loving you, no matter what.” He planted a small kiss on your forehead after he spoke, pulling you into his chest and wrapping you tightly in his long arms. He felt so warm, so comfortable, and so right. You felt like you could just melt into his arms and become a part of him. You knew you belonged in his arms. 
“I love you too, Spencer. Sleep well,” you whispered softly, nuzzling your head deeper into his chest before finally drifting off to sleep.
Thanks so much for reading!
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