aquiver (adj.) [uh-kwiv-er] in a state of trepidation or vibrant agitation; trembling; quivering
• pairing: min yoongi x
reader • genre/warnings: mature
themes, talk of masturbation, smut, language, some type of fluff • words: 10,909 → summary: Yoongi can’t
remember the last time he was able to successfully bring himself to the point
of orgasm, then Namjoon gives him a business card advertising ‘Healing Hands’,
and that’s where he meets you; pretty and innocent looking, who gets paid to
provide hand jobs for a living… • note. inspired by the
novella ‘The Grownup’ by Gillian Flynn, literally just the main character’s past
Warnings: age difference(nothing underage the reader is 21), language, implied sexy times
Hey it’s ok if you don’t wanna do this but I was wondering if you could write a fic where Dean is his current age and the one reader just turned 20 but like her and Dean have known each other for a long time and have been together for a while and other people always say stuff about their relationship but they’re still just really happy together, maybe w/ a bit of smut?
A/N: I changed a few things like I said I would but overall I think I got what you wanted!! Shout out to @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid for being an awesome beta!! I hope you all like it and feedback is always appreciated!!! :D
BTS reaction to you wanting to go another round right after the first
Jin would be panting, but he could never tell you no. I mean, why would he when he wanted you as much as you wanted him. He would give you a small smile and kiss your lips softly. “How could I say no to you, jagi?”
He would joke around that he’s too tired to go for round two. After a little bit of you asking, he would finally give into you. Yoongi would smile a bit with a small sigh. “Well, if you want to, I guess we can.” He’d say laughing.
He would be happy to continue. Hobi would never get tired since he has so much energy. He would be more than happy to continue pleasing you until you couldn’t take anymore. “We can go as many rounds you want, baby. We’ll see how long you’ll last.”
He would already know what you wanted before you even asked. Namjoon would be looking down over you with a hungry look in his eyes the second you opened your mouth. “Round two? Are you sure you can handle that?”
Jimin would get a smirk on his face. He would feel sort of proud that you wanted more of him so soon after you just finished. “Of course you’d want round two! Why wouldn’t you?” He’d lowly growl in your ear.
He would be kinda embarrassed but he would be pretty happy to go another round. Tae would probably giggle a bit when you asked but he wouldn’t say no. “Of course we can! As long as that’s what you want, jagi”
Jungkook would be a bit surprised that you wanted to go another round. He would be really happy though and would be more than ready to go. “Really?” He said in a bit of a shocked voice. “I was hoping you’d ask that.“
Authors Note: I KNOW ITS LONG BUT I PROMISE YOU ITLL BE WELL WORTH IT. LET ME KNOW WHAT YOU THOUGHT!!! IM YELLING IM SO HAPPY I FINISHED THIS!!!!
Summary: a series of short stories to your forever.
(each bolded word starts a new short story, the horizontal lines also divide each story.)
@hamilton-noodles Jo is a blessing to this earth. THE MOST eloquent person I have ever come across. I personally give this story to her, and all the stars in the sky. I want to publicly thank her for being one of the best people I have ever met (PERIOD) I love her so much and she is my bestest of the best friends.
@adolescenthowell RACHAEL was my first friend on this blog and I want to thank her for reading my shit, facetiming me when I need motivation to write, and most importantly sticking by me. She is so talented and I love her.
@fanfrickinhamiltasticimagines Sophie is the kindest human being alive. I want to give her all my thanks for proof reading for me. She is an amazing human being and so so out of this world talented. Love ya girl!
@whatdimissmotherfuckers Ruby for being such an adorable little bean. She’s the most giving yet still sassy person ever and I admire her self confidence. I hope you keep doing you babe. Her art and writing is the BESTEST. AND I ALSO LOVE HER DEARLY.
If life had worked out perfectly; you would have never met him. You took the wrong train going downtown. Stupid, you knew, but being a first time New Yorker was hard. You wandered the streets aimlessly until you found a subway station late at night, hoping and praying you’d be able to find your way back home, your phone having died hours ago. You sat on a bench tapping your foot anxiously waiting for your train going up when a subway car rattled its way to your station. You were passing the doors when you saw a man runselfning down the length of the aisles in the subway car, singing loudly with a pair of headphones on. He didn’t notice you immediately, but when his eyes finally fell on you he practically tore off his headphones and stopped dead in his tracks. You gave him an awkward smile before he blushed red and returned one.
~HEY Y’ALL it’s ya girl back at it again with some more Grayson fluff. This one is kinda inspired by Ethan’s tweet about sleepy and delirious Gray. I’m hoping to write more often, it just takes a lil more for me to get inspired. OH and thank you guys so, SO much for all the positive feedback on my first Gray imagine, “take me there”. I’m so proud of it and I’m so happy you guys seem to enjoy it as well. :)
**No warnings (unless you wanna count Ethan’s dirty joke in the beginning)**
“He was up pretty late last night, probably beating it to a picture of you or something, I dunno,” Ethan teased after letting you inside the apartment.
“Good lord, E,” you groaned with a scrunched face. You followed him past the kitchen and into the living room.
“I’m kidding loser,” he chuckled, plopping down on the couch and pressing play on the game he had paused to answer the door. “He was just up editing his part of the video for a long ass time last night. Although he probably did do the other thing. Wouldn’t put it past him.”
“Ethan!” You scolded, soliciting a laugh from your boyfriend’s brother.
“Just being truthful, cupcake,” he shrugged, not taking his eyes off his game. You scoffed and jokingly shoved his head as you walked past him (ignoring his whines that you made him mess up his game or whatever) and made your way to Grayson’s room, quietly opening and closing the door behind you. You leaned against the door and sighed in sympathy and love as you laid eyes on his sleeping figure.
imagine a scenario where Todoroki isn’t completely passed out from Bakugou’s attack, where he’s still awake–but just barely. He can see Bakugou’s blurry figure stomp over to him through the clouds of dust, screaming. And suddenly, he’s being lifted by his shirt.
Imagine Bakugou lifts Todoroki to yell at him, screams at him–how DARE he do this? How DARE that two-faced bastard do this to him, a win like this means NOTHING. It’s worse than losing, because he didn’t win at all, it’s nothing but a hollow shell of a victory, only won because his opponent refused to go all out on him.
this isn’t what Bakugou wanted. This isn’t what he wanted at all. he wanted to prove himself, to defeat Two-Face with his own power, with his own skill, not–not this. Not a victory where fucking Two-Face just…. gives up. Refused to fight him. Didn’t see him as worthy to fight…
Wasn’t he strong enough? What the fuck. Why. Why couldn’t Todoroki just fight him all out, use his goddamn flames like he did with Deku, always Deku, why not him, goddammit, why, why, why–
Todoroki squints through the dust, trying to focus on the face in front of him. His eyes widen–it’s Bakugou, of course it is, who else yells like him? But it’s not the yelling that’s a surprise, it’s the expression. Bakugou’s face is screwed up, red and angry… and his cheeks are wet with tears.
Bakugou continues to rant and yell at Todoroki, but it all sounds like white noise. All he can see are the tears running down Bakugou’s face, the quivering lips, the shaking eyebrows that are tilted together in an arc that looks less like anger, and more like desperate frustration.
Some of the tears fall on Todoroki’s chest. He doesn’t notice.
“ARE YOU LISTENING TO ME, YOU BASTARD?!” Bakugou shrieks, voice cracking in the middle, shaking Todoroki from his thoughts both literally and physically. Bakugou is huffing and crying and glaring wet red eyes at him, waiting for an answer.
Todoroki feels something heavy in his chest. he’s not sure what it is. He’s just so full of confusing emotions–after his fight with Midoriya, after forgetting for just those few moments, after using his fire side for the first time, after remembering why he wanted to become a hero in the first place… after everything.
It’s been an emotionally exhausting day. He’s confused. Conflicted. He doesn’t really know what to do.
He’s never been very good at understanding others. Apparently he was never very good at understanding himself, either. At least until someone made him remember. Until Midoriya made him remember.
But right now, Bakugou is right here, right in his face, sobbing, and Todoroki feels like he owes him an answer. He’s not sure what to say.
What would a hero do?
Todoroki locks tired eyes with Bakugou. He tenses, baring his teeth.
Todoroki parts his lips.
“Are you alri…”
The words never get out, as a sweet smelling mist drapes over them like a soft blanket. Within seconds, Bakugou’s grip on Todoroki’s shirt loosens and both boys collapse, out cold.
The next time Todoroki sees Bakugou, he’s chained against a pillar, raging like a madman, howling as loudly as he can with a muzzle strapped to his face, and glaring daggers at anything and everything.
There are no tears to be found.
Did he imagine it? Todoroki looks down at his palm and curls his fingers.
He’s still confused. Still conflicted. All Might helped him a little… he just needed time to sort things out. Needed time to look at himself… remember why he wanted to be a hero. He… he needed to see his mother again.
(When was the last time he had a hug?)
(… When was the last time he hugged her?)
When All Might turns to Bakugou and removes the muzzle, Todoroki watches quietly from the corner of his eye.
Bakugou rages. He yells. He screams and shouts and refuses the medal All Might so valiantly tries to hang around his neck, fighting against it like a man fighting a noose.
“EVEN IF SOCIETY ACKNOWLEDGES IT, IF I DON’T THEN IT’S TRASH!!!”
The medal is hangs in between clenched teeth, and Todoroki decides that no, he didn’t imagine it. Even if he didn’t quiet understand, still doesn’t, those tears were real. He looks down at his clenched fist.
I’m sorry, Bakugou. He thinks.
There isn’t anything he can do here. He couldn’t give Bakugou the fight he wanted. He…
Todoroki looked up at the sky.
He’s going to see his mother tomorrow.
(so i wanted to write a scenario where Todoroki actually saw Bakugou crying before Midnight’s made him pass out, and it kinda became this, oops)
WARNING: DADDY DRACO FEELS THAT COULD POSSIBLY KILL YOU
p.s. I’m most likely going to write a part 2 before any of you ask. ;)
word count// 2,351
December the seventh had been the due date
for your little pink bundle.
Three days had slipped by and every second of
those very long days felt excruciating to endure. You were a little over forty
weeks pregnant and more uncomfortable than ever. Sleep was near to impossible
and the immense amount of fatigue only worsened every other thing you felt. The
baby’s kicks were quite strong and you couldn’t seem to enjoy them as much as
you had near the start of the pregnancy. To top it all off, Draco was more
protective than ever and any little moan or whimper that escaped from you made
him spring into action. Irritability had become your number one symptom and
your main target was Draco.
It was December the eleventh, the start of
the fourth day after your due date. You woke up to minor contractions, but it
didn’t get your hopes up since you had been experiencing them daily. You had
slept a grand total of three hours and lied awake in bed, a hand resting on
your large belly full of at least eight pounds of baby. The red letters on the
clock read 5:45 and it remained dark
outside, the bedroom’s only form of light being from the clock.
Rain hit the glass windows and roof, creating
a soothing melody as you stared up at the ceiling. Draco’s arm lie around your
waist and his large, vein filled hand rested on your belly. His steady breath
washed over the back of your bare neck and the stray hairs from your tousled
bun tickled your skin as he breathed out. You melted back into his warm chest,
your palm going to rest on top of his and your fingers slotted between his
against the material of your long-sleeved shirt. The contractions were
continuing to plague your body and although they were spaced apart and fairly
minor, they were still a bit painful. The only place you felt content was with
A swift and harsh kick to your ribs from the
culprit in your belly caused you to suck in a sharp breath, your eyes screwing
shut in discomfort. The little girl inside you hit the same spot where yours
and Draco’s hands lie and your muscles tensed as he stirred behind you. A soft
hum vibrated his chest and his arm tightened around your waist, his palm
lightly squeezing your stomach in acknowledgment of the unborn child’s kicks.
He pushed himself up on his forearm when you shifted uncomfortably, your ribs
aching and a small contraction pulsated through your lower abdomen.
again, sweetheart?” He asked gently and ran his fingers over your swollen
Sighing at his comforting touch, your head
bobbed up and down on the pillow. “Yeah,” you breathed meekly and smiled weakly
up at the concerned face of your husband. “But I’m fine. They’re still not
strong and irregular.”
Draco moved his hand up to your flushed
cheeks and brushed away a few sweaty strands of hair. Your hot flashes had only
worsened as you progressed in the pregnancy and it was embarrassing to sweat
without having done anything. He didn’t seem to think anything of it, but you
felt like an unattractive beached whale.
His fingers never ceased in stroking your
hair and you smiled tiredly when his lips pressed to your forehead. “Do you
need anything, love?” He murmured against your skin. “I can get you some tea or
make some breakfast.”
“I need you to cuddle me,” You moaned and
shifted onto the side facing him. Your face burrowed into his t-shirt clad
chest and you breathed him in, feeling completely at ease by his side. He made
the discomfort and pain you felt bearable.
Chuckling, Draco brought you in flush to him
and he heard your muffled giggles at your bump getting in the way. He smiled
lovingly at you, his ice colored irises drinking in the tired smile on your
face. Your hair was wildly tousled from tossing and turning all night, your
skin was free of any cosmetic product and the pregnancy glow still radiated
from you as it did in the beginning. He had never imagined himself to be lying
in bed with the love of his life tangled against him and he didn’t quite understand
how you had fallen in love with him, but he was sure as hell glad you had.
You tilted your head further back to meet his
eyes just as you experienced yet another kick from the babe inside you. It was
much softer and less of a karate chop to your ribs than the previous kick.
Draco felt the gentle jab in his side since your belly was pressed to him as
close as physically possible and you smiled when he slid your shirt up,
revealing the large baby bump. You had acquired some stretch marks, but he paid
them no mind and lowered his head to talk to her like you knew he adored doing.
“Hey baby girl,” Draco cooed in the gentlest
tone he could manage. His fingertips danced along your bare bump and you
admired the adoring smile on his face when she kicked at the sound of his
voice. “It’s Daddy. Again.”
“She’s probably tired of hearing your voice,
my love,” You teased and ran your fingers through his blonde locks.
“Shush,” He said and shot you a warning look
that made you giggle. “Don’t listen to Mummy, princess. She’s mean to Daddy
You had smacked his head and tried to stifle
your laughter his messy hair. “Don’t tell our daughter that, Draco!” You
“Anyway,” Draco said and lowered his lips to
your bump again. He brushed them along the stretched skin, a mark brandishing
the once smooth flesh on your stomach, and goose bumps arose on your belly as
he kissed it softly. “You like keeping Mummy and Daddy waiting, don’t you?
We’re ready to meet you, princess.”
The clock ticked over to 6:00 and you shut your eyes for a mere second, taking in the soft
sounds of the rain hitting the glass window. You had barely been submerged into
darkness for a millisecond when you felt a gushing sensation between your legs
as if you had peed on yourself, but you knew full well that it had not been
On December eleventh, the fourth day after
your due date, your water had broken and labor begun.
Panic. Unshakable panic fell upon the house,
capturing Draco in its claws. It seemed as though the split second your water
broke and you pulled your very pregnant self from the bed, the contractions
began to grow ever so slightly stronger. As your nose scrunched up in
discomfort and your digits yanked your shirt over your stomach again, Draco
caught every grimace of pain and he felt his body frozen to the bed. His eyes
were glued onto your face and he watched as your hands came to rest just above
your hips, riding the contraction out until it descended to nothing.
“Your water broke which means you’re in
labor,” Draco said slowly, the words slowly seeping into his brain and when
they did, the panic settled in further. “Bloody hell, you’re in labor!”
You couldn’t help but giggle and take his
hands in yours, pulling him from the king sized mattress. Your fingers traced
over his knuckles soothingly and you tilted your head back, your y/e/c irises
twinkling as they gazed into his icy blue ones. “I suppose baby girl heard you
and decided to surprise you, my love,” You murmured and grinned.
He gaped down at your smaller frame before
pulling you to him, his arms wrapped around you and his hands rested on your
waist. The large baby bump pressed between you two and he kissed your forehead
multiple times, the burning of tears already blurring his vision. “I’m about to
be a Dad,” He mumbled shakily into your neck and you held him tighter as he
shook slightly in your grasp.
A gentle, subtle smile pulled at the corners
of your lips. The pads of your fingers ran along his back and you pulled back
to kiss his forehead. “You’re going to be amazing, Draco,” You hummed softly
and felt like crying yourself at his soft, adoring expression. “Now, I’m kind
of in labor so we should go to the hospital.”
“Right.” Draco heaved a sigh and blew it out
heavily. “You’re in bloody labor. Oh, merlin.”
Seconds trickled by, turning into minutes and
following with hours. You had gotten decked out in the hideous hospital gown
and the IV’s had been stuck into your veins. Nurses came and went, checking
your progress along with an occasional monitor of the baby’s heartbeat or asking
if you needed anything. You had dilated to a four and the contractions had
gotten closer together, much stronger, and more painful. The whimpers leaving
your mouth only worried Draco more and if you weren’t in immense amounts of
pain, you would’ve been slightly amused.
Your eyes screwed shut in discomfort and a
soft whimper fell upon Draco’s ears as he stood at your bedside, stroking his
pale fingers through your hair and along your perspired forehead. He hated
seeing you in pain and there was not a thing in the world he could do to make
it better. He did all he knew to do and that was to make you as comfortable as
Draco bent down to your level and kissed your
head gingerly, his right hand clutching yours. “You’re almost halfway, love,”
He cooed softly and brushed the pesky hairs out of your face. “You’re doing so
good, taking those contractions like a champ.”
Blowing out an intake of air, you pushed a
weak smile up at him. “I think labor is kicking my ass, but thanks Draco.”
He chuckled. “I’m not even the one in labor
and its kicking my ass more than yours.”
You giggled and rose up against the pillows to
peck his lips. You squeezed his hand, grinning, and said, “You’re taking labor
like a champ, babe. I promise.”
“I think I’m supposed to be telling you that.”
A mere two hours prior, you had been at four
centimeters dilated and gotten the epidural. Ten centimeters came in the blink
of an eye and the time to push was upon you before your brain could process it.
The hospital room was in a flurry of nurses and doctors prepping for delivery,
the spotlights had been switched on, and your legs were positioned to deliver
your baby girl. With a pounding heart and your belly flipping with nerves, Draco
grasped your right hand firmly and murmured comforting words into your ear through
the chaotic events unfolding rapidly.
“Alright, Mrs. Malfoy,” The doctor exclaimed
from the end of the hospital bed. “It’s time to push.”
With a fleeting glance into your husband’s
stormy irises and the distant sound of nurses reassuring you, you tucked your
chin to your chest and pushed. A strangled cry elicited from your mouth as one
of the nurses counted up to ten and you pushed through until she reached ten
before sucking in a deep breath, dropping your head to the pillow. Draco
stroked your hair and continuously peppered kisses on the top of your head or on
the slightly dampened skin of your forehead.
“M’so proud of you, my love,” He hummed into
“I love you, but we’re never having another
baby after this,” You huffed, already exhausted from one push.
Draco chortled. “Whatever you say, darling.”
For the second time, you tucked your chin in,
took a deep breath, and pushed as hard as possible because you wanted that baby
out. The pressure and burning
sensation began to intensify and after a mere few moments rest after the second
push, you were going again. After a total of five pushes, the little baby girl
was out and loud crying filled the hospital room. The moment your eyes laid on
the doctor holding your baby, wiping her off a bit, tears spilled over onto
your cheeks and you looked up at Draco. A small cry left your mouth at the
sight of his eyes glistening with tears of his own and he stooped over to kiss
your lips repeatedly, the taste of salty tears into the kiss.
“I love you so much,” He whispered and wiped
the wet streaks on your cheeks.
“I love you too,” You sniffled.
The doctor placed your baby onto your chest,
a blanket draped over the naked newborn and her little cries lessened to
whimpers. You sunk your teeth into your lip, holding back a fresh wave of
tears, and placed one of your hands on her head and the other on her tiny back.
You pressed your lips to the top of her head and traced your fingertips along
her back, soothing her whimpers to nothing.
Draco gazed at his two girls in awe. The tiny
glimpse into you as a mother had already taken his breath away and he could
feel himself falling deeper into the pit of love he held for you. Very
carefully, he brought his hand to the pink cheek of his little girl and drug
his finger along the soft skin as if it were porcelain. Never had he seen a
more beautifully ethereal thing in the entire world than the bundle that lie on
your chest. She had only been in the world for a few minutes and he was already
enthralled. He was so in love with the tiny human he had created with you.
little princess,” He hummed gently and never ceased his finger against her
small cheek. “She’s so beautiful, Y/N.”
“Of course she is.” You giggled. “She’s your
“I think it’s the other way around, my love,”
Draco said adoringly.
Your cheeks flushed and you sighed in
content, the babe on your chest stirring before falling still again. “Freya
Leigh Malfoy, already stealing hearts at a few minutes old.”
He sidles up next to her—seemingly out of
nowhere, when she’s right in the middle of reviewing her new schedule and
mapping out the most efficient route to her next class—and Sana can’t help but
give a tiny jump at his sudden appearance.
But he doesn’t seem to notice that he startled
her, his gaze fixed and intense on something across the schoolyard.
“Huh?” she says, failing to keep the irritation
out of her voice. The first day of school is stressful enough, thanks very
much, and though she’s quietly pleased to see Even back on his feet, present
and flushed and healthy in front of her, she also didn’t sign up to be his
fucking tour guide.
This is the year she’s going to get all 6’s, and
have an active social life, and be a better daughter. This year, she’s going to
have it all.
But not if she gets distracted.
“Him,” Even says, tilting his head in the
direction of the bench. She follows his gaze, and sees that four boys have made
the bench into a makeshift lounge, legs spread wide and casual, laughing and
joking and playfully shoving each other.
“Bucky had never been held responsible for what he’d done, but you, oh god, everything that had happened had been your fault, and Bucky knew it too.”
Word Count: 1677 Warnings:a lot of self-doubt, injury, angst
It’s dark. And cold. And wet.
In the distance you can hear the rush of cars, tires splashing in puddles formed by the rain. They sound so, so far away.
You’re vaguely aware of the blood dripping down the back of your neck, and spilling out your lips and coating your fingers and smeared across your face and– there’s so much blood. You choke back a sob.
You have to get out of here. You have to get out of here and get back to the tower before anyone notices you’re missing because you can’t let anyone see you like this. You’re supposed to be strong like the rest of them, to be able to fight like the rest of them and defend yourself and not get into situations like this and the only thing running through your head right now is the fact that you might even die and everyone’s going look at you like some sort of failure.
(The one person you genuinely cared about already does, anyway.)
You place your hands on the ground under you, trying to push yourself up off the ground, but a sharp, snapping pain runs up your arm, as if the bone’s splitting, and you fall, letting out a gasp of pain as your chest hits the ground. There are tears welling in your eyes, both of frustration and the immense pain your body is in, and you lie with your cheek against the wet pavement in the middle of some back alley.
How are you going to get back and pretend like nothing happened when you can’t even fucking get up? You want to scream, but even your voice is hoarse from begging them to stop as you endured hit after hit.
You think back to a few hours ago, to how Bucky had been avoiding you all day and when you’d finally confronted him about it he’d yelled at you for not being able to do one job you had – to save the two kids in the fucking building on the one mission they’d taken you to. He’d yelled and you’d yelled and maybe he’d let it slip that he thought you were a failure, and then you’d gotten angry and stormed out to a bar to get drunk. But he’d been right. The fact of the matter is that you are a failure, and now you can’t even prove yourself otherwise.
A painful sob wracks your body as your hands reach into your pocket, pulling out your phone. There are missed calls that you barely notice, fingers fumbling and tears blurring your eyes. It takes four attempts to call Steve, your hands wet and sticky because of the blood. As it rings, you can feel your heart constrict in your chest. What are they going to think of you? Weak? Pathetic?
Words flit through your head, as the phone rings. And rings. And rings.
“Hi, you’ve reached Steve Rogers–”
You hang up, then try again.
With each time it reaches voicemail, you cry harder. You can’t blame him – it’s four in the fucking morning and the mission was exhausting, so everyone’s probably turned their phone on silent and for the first time in days is getting some proper rest.
You try Nat next, then Sam, then Clint, then even Tony, but nobody picks up.
There’s one last name left on the list of people that’ll probably answer at four a.m. You hesitate, fingers hovering over his name, knowing his reaction if he picks up.
You press call. Your heart pounds against your chest and your blood rushes through your ears and your eyes feel kind of heavy. You can’t breathe. You can’t breathe.
As you gasp for air the phone rings. And rings. And rings. And ri–
Hearing his tired voice croak your name is like turning a switch, because suddenly there is air in your lungs and you can breathe again.
Until, “What the fuck do you want?”
Heaving in a gulp of air, you opened your mouth to speak, but before you can even get a word out, he continues.
“It’s four in the fuckin’ mornin’, an’ the few of us who worked hard on the mission are pretty damn tired.”
You feel the intended jab of his words, and shut your mouth, breathing heavily through your nose as the blood flow stems and begins to crust on your face. The tears well up in your eyes again. You know you shouldn’t have called him, that he was still mad at you and he would probably never forgive you for what you had done, because even as the Winter Soldier he’d never have hurt let an innocent child get hurt. But you’d let it happen, right in front of him, with full control over your actions. Bucky had never been held responsible for what he’d done, but you, oh god, everything that had happened had been your fault, and Bucky knew it too.
“Are you going to speak?” He prompts, an edge in his voice laced with annoyance.
There’s shuffling on the other end of the phone, before you hear a faint, feminine voice. “Bucky baby, come back to bed.” You don’t know who it is, and that makes it so much worse because you know he only picks up random girls when he’s stressed out, and the cause of stress is you, you know as much.
You’re trying to speak but you can’t find the words. Your head hurts and the pain is finally starting to catch up, ebbing away at the adrenaline that had been coursing through your body.
“I’m sorry – it's– it’s, I just –” But you don’t know what to say. Something’s clawing at the inside of your throat, like nails raking down your vocal chords and making it hard to speak. The only thing you can do is cry.
“I’m sorry,” you’re screeching, heaving in breaths of air any chance you can get. “Nobody else picked up – I – I didn’t know – I didn’t know who else to call.”
There’s silence on the other end of the phone. Or maybe you can’t hear Bucky speaking. You can’t hear anything over the sound of your sobs, disappearing behind the heavy patter of the rain.
“Y/N? Y/N!” His voice seems so far away, it almost sounds concerned. “Y/N, what happened?”
“He said he knew! He said he knew more about– that he could tell me– I’m sorry. I trusted him. I shouldn’t have. I’m sorry. I’m sorry!”
“Shit.” There’s shuffling on the other end, then a quieter, “I gotta go, Babe.” Your heart clenches and the only thing that manages to leave your mouth is a string of apologies.
“Where are you?”
“I don’t know– I don’t know!” There’s a level of hysteria in your voice, and he can probably hear it too. He’s saying other stuff in a calmer voice, something about breathing and looking around but you can’t hear him over the sound of the blood rushing through your ears and the constant thought of you being an absolute failure swimming through your head.
“– okay?” You take gulps of air through your mouth, trying to subside the sobs resonating through your chest as you tune back into his voice. “Just breathe, Y/N. Look around and tell me what you see.”
“It’s dark, and there’s- there's–” You look around frantically, trying to find something, trying to see something, but it’s so dark and all you know is that you’re in some back alley and God, your lungs feel like they’re on fire but you can’t figure out how to get air down your throat. “An alley,” you gasp out. “Behind the bar. I’m behind the bar–”
And you break off into sobs again, praying to someone, anyone, that Bucky can understand you through the thickness of your voice and the croaking of your throat.
“Okay. Okay. Y/N? I’ll be there in ten, okay? Just give me ten minutes.”
You manage to scrape an “okay” up your throat without throwing up from the crying and the screaming. Bucky says something about hanging up, and suddenly your voice is making your ears bleed again. “No! No! Please, Bucky, stay on the line. Please.”
And then he’s saying something and you’re not sure what, because you can’t focus on anything anymore. You don’t know how long you sit there, leaning against the cold brick wall, soaking wet with a puddle of red tinged water surrounding you, chilling to the bone. Maybe it’s really ten minutes, maybe it’s a few hours, you can’t tell, but there’s nothing more warming than the sound of Bucky’s voice calling out your name, this time closer to you than through the phone.
“Y/N?” His voice resonates through the small alley, and you’re slightly more awake for a moment as a flashlight shines directly into your eyes, then down the rest of you.
“Hey, hey, Y/N.” You feel his hands, warm and soft and tender, on your cheek, slapping lightly to grab your attention. Your eyes are unfocused, you can barely make out his face through the tears and the haze grabbing at the edges of your vision.
An arm goes under your knees and your start screaming again, pain and fear coursing through every vein in your body. Someone’s saying something, your name and something else, and it’s calm and reassuring but all you can focus on is how much it hurts. You’re hoisted into the air and this time the scream doesn’t even make it past your lips, catching in your throat as the pain peaks into a numbness spreading to your toes.
“–wake! Y/N, hey, keep your eyes on me, okay?” But your eyes are challenging his voice, daring to shut for longer periods of time with each blink.
There’s a deep, ocean blue staring down at you when you do open your eyes, laced with disappointment and screaming the same word over and over at you.
say Yoongi gets up in the middle of the night cause he randomly got an idea for a song so he goes out to the living room to work on it. And his girl comes waddling out wearing his shirt and some cute frilly panties rubbing her eyes and whining like “Teddy~” and he’s all like “Teddy wtf” and she’s like “Cause you’re my teddy bear~ And I can’t sleep without my teddy bear~“
In the middle of the dream you weren’t having something started to wake you up. You felt the bed shift but just assumed that your boyfriend had turned over in his sleep. You reach out to hold him closer but your arm lands on the empty bedside next to you. Your eyes start to open and of course, Yoongi’s missing. As you sit up you take notice of the bright light coming from the living room peaking out from the cracked bedroom door. When you open it you find him sitting on the couch with his laptop, typing away. Your steps cause him to look up at you.
“Teddy…” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes in front of him.
He tilts his head in confusion. He’s almost distracted by your cute attire but he tried to stay focused as he hears what you called him. Yoongi just assumed you were still half awake.
“Y/N maybe you should go back to bed-”
“No. I’m not sleeping if you aren’t. I need my teddy bear to sleep next to me.”
Yoongi’s face flushes with a pink undertone when he realizes your new nickname for him.
“I wasn’t trying to wake you up. I just got an idea so I came out here to work.”
You reached your hand out to him.
“You can do it in our room…I just want you to be next to me.”
He nods, standing up with the laptop in one hand and using the other to hold yours as you lead him into the bedroom. He crawls back into bed, resting his back on the headboard with the laptop now in his lap. You got in next to him and rested your head next to him. Unable to fall asleep again you watched him type the words onto the document. You squinted since the screen was so bright but the more you read the words you started to notice something familiar.
“….Is this song….about us?”
He shyly smiles. “It’s noticeable, huh?”
“I mean, to me it is but shouldn’t you write about something related to your fans or youth experiences?”
Yoongi shrugged. “I only write about things that are important to me and right now you’re the most important thing to me.”
You grew quiet.
“What is it?” He asked.
You reach for him once more. “I want to kiss you but i’m too tired to sit up again.”
“Now you sound like me.” He laughed, leaning down to give you a light kiss.
“Please try to go back to sleep. I’m sorry I woke you up..”
You smiled. “I will but you better not think of leaving this bed again.”
“I won’t.” He said. focusing back on his writing.
He let out another tired chuckle. “Yes, I promise.”
He continues to keep writing down all of his ideas, email them to Namjoon as well as the other lyricists at BigHit, and shuts down his laptop to set it down next to the bed. He tries to get comfortable in the bed, seeing you already fast asleep. Yoongi’s hand comes out to rest on your face, moving his thumb gently on your cheek. You winced, causing him to freeze. He was afraid he woke you up again but you just continued to lightly snore. He lets out a sigh of relief and kisses your forehead. He can finally rest for the night knowing your slight neediness for him that he found so adorable. He hoped you’d never get tired of being next to him because he planned to be there for quite a while.
details: ‘’pls let it be a cute delivery
It was just
a joke. You weren’t thinking anything of it and just expected the good old same
dude, who delivered you your pizza every time you ordered one. Just that middle
aged man with apparently no wife or kids, greasy hair and a rude attitude. But
shit, you never thought your wish would come true. You opened the door with
lidded eyes, not putting effort in you looks today and rubbed your neck. But as
soon as your eyes glided upwards to the delivery boy’s face, you slightly
gasped. This was definitely not the person you expected to stand in front of
you. The boy showed of small dimples with a smile.
simply said and the smile he showed you reminded you of a bunny, although that
was just a random thought popping up into your mind. And in that very moment,
you just wished you had put on some decent clothes rather than just an
oversized hoodie and sweatpants. He handed the box to you as you cleared your
slowly accepted the pizza box and couldn’t help but stare at him. His ruffled,
brown hair was put under a cap which he just readjusted as he wore the usual
delivery boy clothes; a bomber jacket in the colours of his company, the cap
and some black ripped jeans with dirty sneakers.
silence fell upon you two, as you were still staring at him like a creep while
he couldn’t help but smile. It was his first day at work and getting stared at
by such a beautiful girl gave his ego some kind of boost already.
cheeks all red and warm, you realised you were supposed to give him the money
and dug into the pocket of your sweatpants, trying to find some money. Then the
pockets of your hoodie followed and your heart skipped a beat as you didn’t
feel any money.
you said and sprinted back into your home, trying to remember where you had
some money left. You definitely weren’t prepared for this once again. While you
let the delivery boy wait, you fished some money from the kitchen counter and
dashed back to the front door. Trying to act all cool, you saw he had his phone
pulled out and was scrolling through his feed.
sigh rolled over your lips as you came to stand in front of him again.
you apologised, but you didn’t even know yourself why you said that. For taking
so long? For staring so much a couple of moments ago?
okay,’’ he chuckled, putting his phone back and he reached out for your hand
with the money, your hands slightly touching as he took the money. He hastily
zipped the little fanny bag on his wait open and searched for some change to
give to you. ‘’So, you asked for a cute delivery boy?’’
You let out
a soft squeal, surprised by him knowing about your additional detail thingy, as
you put your hands in front of your face shortly, before moving them to the
side so they rested on your red cheeks. ‘’I-I don’t know why I did, and I
didn’t e-expect them to seriously send one either.’’
I’m cute?’’ he said with a cheeky undertone, his warm smile growing into a sly
smirk as he leaned against the doorpost. He handed you some change and the
receipt –although you never asked for it. Your hand left your cheek to get it.
that the reason why they send you?” you asked him, tilting your head slightly. You
gave him a puzzled look and put the money aside while holding on to the receipt.
‘’I-I mean, I don’t know…’’
laughed and licked his lips wet, to which your stomach tightened a bit. ‘’I’m
their only delivery boy, the other dude got tired of the job and quit.’’
A look of
realisation flashed across your face as you remembered the old man telling you
that the last time you ordered a pizza. Your mouth was agape by now and you
your tongue?’’ the boy chuckled as he pushed his body away from the doorpost. ‘’Anyways,
I better go now. Deliver some more pizzas. I’ll see you around!’’
“Th-thanks!” you called out to him, watching
him walk away. As he almost walked around the corridor, you quickly called out
again: ‘’Wait! What do you mean by seeing me again?’’
But he was
gone already, and a soft sigh left your mouth again; in all honesty you wished
for him to stay longer and talk a bit more. He had this vibe which made him
approachable and it was something you liked. Despite the fact he made your
blush and stutter like crazy, he was still very patient and nice with you.
down at your receipt and was about to crumple it into a small ball, but stopped
midway your action when you saw ten digits written at the bottom of the paper.
this is gonna be a mini series, so i’ll also turn the rest of bangtan into some cute ass pizza delivery boys soon ;)
Prompt: Struggling with the pressures of running a bakery in New York City, [Y/N] [Y/L/N] is your average, flour-covered baker. Bucky Barnes is your no nonsense, sugar-hating guy. What happens when the two get closer than Fate intends for them to?
Warnings: unwanted advances, swearing
A huge shoutout to @redgillan for being an actual angel and beta-ing this for me.
Warnings: Smut, unprotected sex (wrap it up, people), Season 12 spoilers
A/N: This just popped into my mind and I ran with it… I hope you all enjoy it :-) Thank you to the lovely @remember-me-forever-silent-angel for looking this over for me and easing my mind! Love you, Steph!
It was no secret that Spencer was a morning person. He loved breakfast foods and coffee. He loved to watch the sun peek over the edge of the earth, turning the whole sky a glorious mosaic of red, orange, and yellow. He loved that it was like a brand new page to his book of life.
The following days went by as usual, if not quieter. You don’t know what changed from the night of the dinner party, but you feel like something did. You saw Jimin in a new light after finding out that he told his friends about his unhappy marriage. It just made you realize how unhappy he truly was. How unhappy you truly were. And now you longed to have someone to tell your worries to, but you couldn’t risk it. Not when your parent’s happiness was on the line.
So you sucked it up. You bottled up your emotions once again and just tried not to upset Jimin any further. Clearly the smallest things were setting him off, and you rather not have any stress from him. Your marriage was already stressful enough.
After another exhausting day at work, Jimin found his way to a bar where his friends were already seated and chatting.
“Hey! Jimin’s here!” said Jungkook as he spots Jimin heading their way. All six boys turn to face him, noticing how lifeless he looked.
“Hey guys…” Jimin says slowly as he pulls up a chair near Taehyung and ordered a drink.
“You look tired..maybe you should go home and rest…?” Namjoon offered slowly.
“No.” was all he got as a response. The boys all knew about his life at home and though they felt bad for their friend, they couldn’t help but feel worse for you.
“Ok so we were all talking and we realized…you never had a housewarming party!” Jin said, try to get the others excited.
“Yeah! So we’re going to come to your house this weekend and have a little party” Taehyung said, nudging Jimin’s shoulders a little.
“I rather not” Jimin said dully.
“We weren’t asking” Yoongi said cooly.
Jimin knew his friends weren’t going to take no for an answer.
The following day, you woke up late and was hurrying to make a breakfast, although small, for Jimin. As the eggs were cooking, you heard Jimin shuffle into the small dining room and started to panic when you realized you didn’t have any food placed on the table. But Jimin just sat there, reading emails on his phone. He realized you were running late, and although he was somewhat annoyed, he didn’t want to start anything with you.
In the next few minutes, you placed his food down in front of him without saying anything. Since you were in a rush, you eggs looked somewhat ugly this morning and you mentally scolded yourself for not waking up on time.
You noticed Jimin opening his mouth, signaling he was about to say something and you immediately prepared yourself for his cold words. When did you become this pathetic?
“This Saturday, my friends are coming over, so leave for the day” he said coldly.
Weekends were no different from a weekday, Jimin would leave early in the morning if he ever did come home. You never knew. But you would have the house to yourself. You told yourself that all this time you had to youself, you would learn how to love yourself more. But how could you love yourself when the man who was supposed to be your husband despised you? Made you feel like you weren’t good enough. Not worth love?
So you were a little pissed when you realized he was kind of kicking you out for the day. Sure, you could always hang with some of your girls or go home and spend time with your parents. It’s not like you didn’t have options, but you were still pissed nonetheless.
“oh..ok” you said slowly. Any appetite you had was suddenly gone. So you made your way to your bedroom and waited for Jimin to leave.
Saturday soon came along and Jimin mentioned that his friends would be there around noon. You decided to go hang out with you mom for some time and get your nails or something done. You missed the little dates you had with you mom before you got married. She was your like your best friend, and oh my you missed her dearly. You wore one of your favorite dresses to lift your mood a little before you saw your mother. You put on a little makeup and decided a little was enough and decided to get on your way. You checked the time, and it was only 11:15, but you didn’t want to risk running into his friends. It would only upset Jimin more.
So you hurriedly walked out of the house, noting that Jimin was sitting on the couch, just casually browsing on his phone. He didn’t acknowledge you, and you didn’t acknowledge him. For a change, he would be the one in the empty house alone, even though it was only till his friends came along. But still, it made you wonder how it would make him feel.
BTS reaction to their S/O wanting to go stargazing at the beach
Jin would be so excited to go. He loves the beach and he loves looking at the stars with you. He’d pack a few warm blankets and of course some snacks. Jin would lay on the blanket, put his arm around you and sigh happily. “The sound of the ocean, the bright stars, and the prettiest girl in the world by my side. How could it get any better?”
Yoongi would be happy that you asked. Looking at the stars helps clear his head and being with you made him happier than he’s ever been before. He’d lean back happily on the sand with you, his hand intertwined with yours. Yoongi would have a content smile on his face. “You come up with the best ideas.”
He would be kinda tired after such a long day but he could never say no to you. He’d make sure you wore some warm clothes and he’d bring some drinks just in case. He wouldn’t really be paying attention to the sky though. Not even the roaring ocean could get his eyes taken off you. He just stared, taking in the way the moonlight shone on your face. “Ahhhh…. you’re just like a beautiful angel…”
Namjoon would watch the stars alone before you got together. He never asked you to come along because he wasn’t sure if you’d like it, so when you suggested it, he had a wide smile on his face. He would hurry quickly to get things ready, get a little book, and a small telescope. As you sat and watched, he’d be pointing up to the sky. “And of course you can’t forget the Big Dipper!”
Like Hobi, Jimin would be pretty tired at the end of the day when he got home. He may take a little persuading, but eventually he’d agree to go with you. He’d bundle you in his jacket as you sat on the sand, cold ocean breeze blowing by. “So, do you know any of the star names?” He’d ask. Jimin would slowly start to fall asleep to the sound of your voice, the cool sea wind and the sound of waves.
He would happily go with you. As you were sitting on the sand watching, he had an idea. Tae would take your hand, and pull you closer to the waves. You both got in to where the water was up to your ankles. Laughing and slashing around, he would pull you into a kiss under the starlit sky. “I love you, sweetie…”
Kookie would happily go, packing a little bag as soon as you asked about going. He laid a blanket down on the sand. He wanted for you to sit down, then laid his head on your lap, looking straight up. “Do you know a lot about the stars? Or do you just like looking at them?” He’d ask. You two would just walk for hours, him asking a million questions while he hung on to every word.
Just a lil
Newt smut for you guys since you seem to love it ;)
Newt Scamander x Reader
to explain the kind of bliss you receive from being able to wake up next to the
person you love. For Newt, it was as if every morning he was reborn, in love
and in light, and any evil, any bad in the world, was incomprehensible. When it
was just your sleeping face, resting with your mouth slightly agape and a soft
snore escaping you, it was impossible to think that anything apart from utter
peace existed. When he looked at you, he always became aware of his heartbeat.
It no longer sped upon sight of you, but rather he realized it had relaxed, as
if knowing that it didn’t have to squeeze in more beats, knowing it now
belonged to you and didn’t have to try. And his cheeks no longer turned ruby
red, instead settling for a healthy pink glow that ran along the tip of his
nose as well.
‘I swear to God, James. One day I’m gonna be on the news for your murder’ Bucky had sat at your seat at the breakfast table again, after you had told him again and again that it was your seat.
‘Ohh harsh words from the short ass.’ You rolled your eyes at his attempt to hurt your feelings. ‘And don’t call me that’
‘What? James? Oh, James’ you continued saying his real name in different voice, mocking him. He retaliated by throwing daggers at you with his eyes.
‘I will be on the news for both your murders if you don’t stop’ Steve, who was reading a newspaper and had just finished his bowl of cereal, murmured at you. Loud enough for you to hear but quiet enough for you to listen.
It was just too complicated. Yeah, the younger hunting
community did seem significantly more progressive than John’s old
buddies, throwing around f slurs and laughing over beers, but Dean
was in his thirties. His late thirties.
No one came out at this age, and if he did, he was sure they would
think he was faking, having some bizarre mid-life sexual crisis or
trying to get attention. Moreover, he was a legend among
hunters: he didn’t want his going both ways to become the
talk of the town, their variation of celebrity gossip, even if it
wasn’t in a completely negative context.
So he could never be with Cas. It just wasn’t practical.
Still, he couldn’t help but feel that familiar sense of longing
as he watched Cas stitch up his trench coat, delicate fans of dark
eyelashes over soft, tired bags and prominent cheekbones, stubble
sprinkling his jaw.
Man, it would be great if Cas was human. If Dean was just a
normal guy who’d met him in a park or a grocery store, who could
have worked out his sexuality in his teens or twenties like any
normal fence-sitter, instead of worrying about his brother’s life
or the damn apocalypse.
Or even if it wasn’t, even if things were just as they were now,
Dean couldn’t help but think how amazing it would be to hold him in
his arms late at night while he slept, press his nose to that dark
mess of hair and breath in the soapy smell of shampoo. Maybe
start to see a grey hair or two.
That was another pleasant thought: Cas going grey, Cas the
silver fox. He’d always had a thing for mature guys, though
he’d absolutely never admit it, and he was surprised to find the
idea of getting old together with Cas a pleasant one.
But then, he’d blown his chance to have human Cas, hadn’t he?
Cas had been human once, been ready to settle down in the
bunker for good, and Dean had kicked him to the curb. He’d
spent every day regretting it.
“Dean, are you okay?”
Dean blinked, remembering Sam was there. He was sitting
perpendicular to Dean at the long wooden table, open laptop and book
of lore in front of him, looking at Dean with concerned, puppyish
Even Cas paused in his mending the wounded sleeve, looking up to
see what this latest drama could be.
Dean cleared his throat. “’Course I’m okay. Why
wouldn’t I be?”
“I dunno,” Sam shrugged. “You’ve just been sort of
spacing out for a really long time. You looked kind of upset.”
“Bullshit,” Dean scoffed, a tad defensively. “M’not
“I noticed, too,” Cas pointed out. “But it’s been a
rudimentary aspect of his personality since I’ve known him, so I
generally elect to ignore it.” There was a brief pause as
Dean mustered a glower. “If you’d like, I could read his
“No!” Dean cried, horrified by the suggestion.
Sam ran a palm over his face, clearly trying not to laugh.
Sadistic bastard. “It’s fine, Cas. I’m sure
Dean is just…distracted.”
Cas nodded hesitantly. “Very well. Let me know if
this changes, Dean: I should very much like to help.”
“Yeah, don’t count on it,” Dean muttered, pretending to go
back to his laptop.
God, Cas was a sweetheart. Oblivious, but a sweetheart.
Dean could see now that all he’d ever wanted to do was help.
To help Dean.
So many missed opportunities, over the years they’d known each
other. So many times he’d noticed that mouth, full and
chapped and supple, when he could have closed the gap between them
and let the warmth consume him. So many times he could have
said something, anything, to convey to Cas how he felt.
Dean froze suddenly as a realization dawned on him then: if
he could look back on moments five years ago that he could have told
Cas how he felt but didn’t, five years from now, would he feel the
same way? Would he still be hooking up with the same sexually
frustrated housewives that liked to boss him around the way he
craved, or odd bull named Larry, only to come home feeling empty and
full of regret? Would he still be watching Cas from afar and
wishing he’d said something, anything, to convey that he loved him
as more than a friend? To convey that he loved him at all?
It’s too late, said that nagging little voice in his
head. Too complicated. He isn’t even your
Dean realized he didn’t care. He’d spent his whole life
watching people wait for some idyllic scenario to come along to show
their loved ones how they felt: John promising he’d give his
boys the life they deserved after he got his precious revenge, Mary
studiously avoiding them until she could mold their lives into what
she’d envisioned for them over thirty years prior.
Dean wasn’t going to repeat their mistakes. He couldn’t.
Think of the hunters! the voice persisted. Do
you really want them knowing you like guys?
Dean scoffed inwardly. At the end of the day, who fucking
cares? He’d met gay hunters before. One of them was a
goddamn witch. The hunting community had changed a lot since
he’d last been involved.
And yeah, he was sure there was still some homophobia lurking, but
was he really gonna let that stop him? Besides: there
might be some young hunter kid scared to come out of the closet, who
might be inspired to if he knew Dean Winchester was bi.
Dean could have really used someone like that when he was younger.
“Cas, do you wanna go get burgers?”
Dean blurted the phrase out without thinking, causing both Sam and
Cas looking up in surprise.
Dean swallowed, suddenly feeling very awkward as silence hung
thick in the air.
“I mean…just if you want to, that is,”
he added, rubbing the back of his neck self-consciously as he felt
his ears grow hot.
Cas blinked. “Certainly. You know I love burgers,
Dean stared at him, then chuckled awkwardly, not really processing
that he’d just said yes. “Yeah, that’s, uh. Kinda
why I asked.”
There was a long silence before Cas offered, “Shall we go
Dean blinked, still in a haze as he registered the question. “No
no. I mean, uh. We can if you want to,
but I was kinda thinking we could go tomorrow night.” He
swallowed, palm rubbing over his trachea. “Y’know. Make
a date of it.”
Dean chuckled awkwardly again as Cas’s eyes widened, expression
unreadable. He was peripherally aware of Sam’s comically
baffled facial expression, eyes wide and mouth hanging open. He
looked as though if you poked him with your finger, he would fall
Finally, Cas said quietly. “I would love that, Dean.”
“…Great.” Dean cleared his throat, nodding slowly. A
nervous smile spread over his face. “Great! Uh,
tomorrow at eight, then?”
“That would be wonderful, Dean.”
Dean had to resist the urge to giggle like a schoolgirl.
Everything about this was incredible. The fact that he’d
just asked Cas out on a date. The fact that he’d said ‘yes.’
The way Cas said his name.
Dean. Dean. Dean.
Dean thought he could listen to that voice say his name forever
and never get tired of it.
He and Cas sat there in mutually baffled silence for a moment or
two longer, before Sam’s exhausted, relieved sigh broke the spell.