#the killers gave life more worth | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

winterzsurprise · 2 months ago

Text

Change My Mind [5]

Pairing: BTS x reader

SUMMARY: As a make-up artist, you were expected to glamorize your clients with brushes and products that cost a week-worth of food, not to befriend them outside of work, let alone have them save you from dates yet here you are five years later as one of their closest confidants.

Being a stylist of the world's biggest boyband is no easy feat, someone is doing flips, someone can't stay still and one's asleep but its fine, you can work around their chaos but then one day, you find out they're all your soulmates, a whole different can of chaos you don't think you can handle.

Tags: Soulmates AU, Friends to Lovers, Eventual Smut, Not Beta Read, Slow Build, Polyamory, Attempts at Humor

Words: 9.4k

So I edited chapter 3 where Yoongi told Reader to wait till next year for their contract renewal because from the discourse on twt yesterday, they renewed their contract October later in 2018 (which is the year this is taking place).

Gonna stop yapping so here's a 9.4k chapter with a lot of explaining, i hope it all makes sense oh lord this chap is not beta read AT ALL. ALSO WTF IS WITH THE TAGS THEY'RE NOT WORKINGGGGGG

thank you all for your comments and likes, it keeps me going :DD

<<<Prev || MASTERLIST || Next>>>

_____

Namjoon was a man of science.

He believes in everything that can be explained in a lengthy and intricately detailed book filled with an even more difficult terminologies and worded examinations backed up by photographic evidence to prove it.

To him, if he didn't see it happen before his very eyes, it was fiction, a lie.

It's how it should be.

As a child, he frowned upon the heretics and the desperate, thanking a nonexistent god for the fruit of their hard work. He couldn’t fathom how they could weep so genuinely as they prayed on their knees for blessings that never come, and if gods were real, he could never understand how devoted they are for someone who turned a blind eye to the challenges they faced.

He never understood how the lonely could resort to immorality in their desperation for a soulmate, couldn't fathom how easily they shed their humanity for a morsel, a hint of that sense of belonging and importance being a tethered gave.

It was dumb.

Life doesn't revolve around soulmates, they should've tried other options instead of blaming the theoretical nirvana for their own misfortune.

Despite being a child born from two mates, he never believed in the concepts of soulmates, thinking it childish as it was an idea the lonely and the hopeless hung onto to feel better for themselves. He believed that his parents would have met either way without their soulmarks, would've fallen in love the same and bring him to life.

Because they were meant to be, even without the marks to prove it.

Sure he wished to eventually settle down with someone who also loved him as his mother does with his father but he doesn't believe in the spiritual connection.

But science has nothing on the sensation he was feeling right now.

The moment the clock struck midnight, a heartbeat suddenly began to drum at the back of his head, but it was faint and muffled as if it was distant and came through multiple walls but he could hear its panicked pace echoing in his skull. In the silence you and Jungkook’s departure has left, Namjoon began to feel dread bubbling inside him. A tension slowly building up with the beat of the racing heart at the back of his head.

It felt like those slowly crescending notes of a horror movie's background music as the killer stalks nearer. There's a tension thickening but he's the only one who could feel it, could sense it coming.

It's making him nervous beyond belief how he doesn't know what is afoot.

A gasp tore through his thought process and he looked up to see his Yoongi hyung eyeing something invisible in his right hand, disbelief apparent in his wide eyes as the others turned to him with concerned curiosity.

But Namjoon already knew what it was, at least felt like he knew what it is, although he himself is incredulous.

He's read up everything that he could about soulmates in his teenage years wanting to refute his parents' insistence on how they wouldn't have clicked as well as they are without the soulmark yet none of them could explain how he just knows the heartbeat at the back of his head belonged to you.

________

Fate truly has a funny way of revealing who your soulmate is.

It was said that the sensation when you first meet your soulmate should be a wave of cold relief flushing all the worries out of your system. Your mother and Jihae told you stories of the sudden sense of belonging, like finding the last piece of the puzzle from a mere accidental brush of a hand with a stranger on the streets.

If it was in any other scenario, you would've agreed with them.

But as Jungkook raises both your hands to survey the skin for any mark, your world shrinks down like an air tight ziplock bag to only fit you and him. A low thrum resonated in the air, mellifluous and sweet, a direct contrast to the dull but racing heartbeat at the back of your head. Jolts of electricity vibrated under your skin starting from your joined hands and spreading across your muscles and lighting your nerve endings awake.

The walls around you closed in, not because it was Jungkook who you happened to be fated to. But because there's a thin, red thread tied around your pinkie.

A red string of fate.

And it's not tethered to Jungkook.

It goes behind you and you dread to know who it leads to.

There's a curious tug from down the line, the thread turning tangible at every pull and the urge to run away, to hide in the comforts of your home grew tenfold. Because you're sure the string leads to one of the boys.

People who became your closest companions after years of being their make-up artist. Half of which you've rejected before and four of them you've remained friends with.

Isn't this a bit too much of a joke?

How funny it must've been for the divinities to watch you reject the men eventually revealed to be your soulmate. They must've cackled, pointing fingers and all, as they watched you reject them. You wouldn’t put it behind them to connect the end of your string to someone you’ve also turned down.

You watched Jungkook speedrun through the five stages of grief in a few seconds, face contorting every so often it made it hard to get a read on what he's feeling. He let out a shaky exhale as he came to, doe eyes meeting yours with an incredulous sheen.

His continuous silence stuffed cottons into your throat, the conflicted expression he has settled on only furthering the panic in your chest.

You retract your hand but he was faster, catching your wrist in a tighter grip. There's a question hanging from his lips but they cease to exist the moment you both see the mark on your finger.

In the space between your index and middle finger lies a black quarter note, inked into the skin of your middle. The tint bold and black.

Raising his own hand, your eyes landed on the same pattern etched on his on the opposite side. As if hypnotized, he intertwined his fingers and the same gentle thrum came back, along with a comforting warmth echoing from your soulmate mark and spreading throughout your body, almost rendering you boneless from how intense yet easily it relieved you of the stress on your body.

You weren't the only one affected by its calming properties. The frustration and anger in Jungkook's from earlier now erased from his face, as if it was never there. Acceptance.

Just like that, the problem is solved; and that unsettles you.

“Noona… Wh-what is happening?”

His voice is so small, shaky and hopeful . Eyes growing larger as he surveys your soulmate marks with a joyful disbelief. He untangled your hand and pulled the soulmark closer to his eye. Curiously, Jungkook hesitantly taps the musical note and shivered with you when skin touched skin.

You both suck in a deep breath, freezing at the foreign sensation it brought you both before a smile that stretches high up to the heavens brightens his face.

Jungkook's eyes were glazed with unshed tears when you found them once more, breath shaky as he placed a kiss onto your knuckles. The sensation of his lips on your skin sending jolts down your spine.

“Noona, we're soulmates.”

You didn't even hear the sound of footsteps running up the stairs nor Taehyung calling you both until he got close, hand landing on your shoulder and effectively snapping you out of your trance.

“Are you guys okay? Not too long ago you were at each other's throat and now—woah!”

A shrill of pleasure shocks your body, vision flashing white and you fall. If it wasn't for Jungkook, you would've collapsed boneless next to Taehyung who's gasping on the floor, hand clutching his heart as he heaved. Jungkook let you lean your body weight on him once you stood up again. Arms wrapping around your waist protectively as your brain catches up.

A sharp gasp from Jungkook kick starts your already racing heart, panic flushing out whatever has happened earlier.

But that wasn't the thing that made your head pulse.

It was the shaky utterance of your name and looking up at Jungkook only to be distracted by the faint glow of blue in the shape of a hand on your shoulder. The spot where Taehyung had last touched you.

In the dimness of the hallway, it gleamed a soft shade of purple like a splatter of glow in the dark paint. Your head snapped back to Taehyung who had pushed himself to sit up, cradling his head while murmuring intelligible under his breath until he looked up and his jaw fell .

“I-Is that…?”

“Hyung, what is the meaning of this?”

Taehyung turned to the maknae, spluttering. “I-I don't even… Ho-how is this even possible?”

How is it possible to feel like the world has pulled a carpet from under you while also feeling like you're laying on cloud 9?

Three soulmates.

Two of them being people you once rejected, one of them unknown but the string suspiciously led downstairs where the rest of the boys are.

You feel like passing out just to avoid the talk it'll entail. Maybe you should run at the wall and hope you'll hit your head hard enough to guarantee amnesia.

“Noona, you're seeing this too right?”

Taehyung is now standing in front of you, bewilderment still dancing in his eyes as he traced the already fading handprint and a small line of purple followed. He grinned and it's probably the happiest one you've ever seen him wear, eyes misty and overflowing with joy as he giggled, the sound almost reminiscent of an excited child.

Jungkook’s arm tightened around you.

“Wh-why do you have paint on noona’s shoulder? Hyung?” Jungkook’s voice shakes from the weight of the revelation hanging above his head. “Are we sharing noona?”

“GUYS! YOONGI HYUNG GOT A SOULMATE!”

Holy shit.

Unlike you who's despairing to see the man on the other side of the thread, Taehyung was beyond ecstatic.

“No fucking way. I gotta see this.”

Taehyung dragged you to the stairs when your legs refused to move, uprooting you from where you leaned onto Jungkook's side. Your stomach churned at how lighter the strings felt in your pinkie and a tad tighter as the distance shortened.

There's a sudden heartbeat racing in your ears but it sounds far away and it doesn't sync with the pulse you feel in your temples. You couldn't dwell on it for long before you're faced with the man at the other end of the line.

They said it all started with their eldest but unbeknownst to them, he was the first to notice how your eyes would light up as if it held the entire galaxy, how you’d laugh and he thought it sounded like the sweetest jingles of wedding bells to his ears.

Seokjin might be their eldest but he was the beginning of it all.

In his twenty five years of existence on this damned planet, Min Yoongi has never asked for much, content with whatever life throws at him.

Even with his harsh upbringing, he never kept what he has from others, especially since he met his brothers. He'd willingly ripped off the cloth from his back to keep them warm and plugged their ears with both his hands so they couldn’t hear the hateful words thrown at them at debut, even if it cost of being exposed to them instead. But he couldn't care less, Yoongi loves them with all his heart.

There's nothing in the world that could ever stop him from bending over backwards just so the others could live peacefully.

When his pockets grew heavier with age, this trait only bloomed further into millions donated anonymously to hospitals and charities he could stumble upon.

To everyone, especially his brothers, he’s a generous man.

Until you strode into his life and haunted him in his waking days with the ghost of your touch caressing his face.

Min Yoongi never wants yet he yearned, he craved to feel the softness of your skin under his fingertips, to taste your lips and discover if you tasted as sweet as you smell, to run his hand through your hair as to know if it's as soft as it looked under the soft glow of the room.

And for once in his life, he wanted to be selfish.

Being with you makes him want to believe, want to hope that something nonsensical as the concept of soulmates is true.

Min Yoongi wasn’t a believer of such optimism because his mother wasn’t. She passed down her resentment for the fates for turning a blind eye on her onto her next of kin. She was bitter from being untethered and barred her children from subjecting themselves to whimsical thoughts of fates and destinies. But now that you’ve come and bursted through the iron doors of his heart, he started to wonder if the divine had purposely tripped you in front of the BigHit building to be discovered by their oldest make-up noona and lead you to them.

He knew they did, could feel it within him.

There was something different about you on the first day you've both met, something that he couldn't find in others and his mind answered almost immediately.

Soulmate.

You who shined even without the help of others, who stood out like the beacon of light in the shady pits of this world, he couldn’t dare face you as someone whose future is as dim as the blasted world he cursed out. With nothing to offer, he strived to be the best, to crawl to the top whatever it takes.

He couldn't show you a pathetic side of him, couldn't step forward with a bleak future to offer. Yoongi wouldn't be able to bear it if you were to grow miserable beside him.

Because for you, he'd stop at nothing to hand everything you'd ever lay your eyes on wrapped in a pretty bow of the most expensive quality and tucked neatly behind soft colored gift wrappers.

For years, Min Yoongi hid.

What else could he do when most of his brothers also vied for your attention? He loved you all with all his heart, couldn't bear the thought of ever hurting any of you for his selfish desires. So he did what he thought was best, step back and watch from the sidelines.

And he was fine with that.

He thinks himself a patient man. A trait forged by years of encountering nagging customers and demanding adults from working as a delivery boy. Yet all it took was a couple dozen bottles of Soju and a warm atmosphere to accidentally confess his feelings for you. Ashamed and already knowing what his hyung has received as an answer, he puts on a mask the next day and acts.

He did it so well you were convinced he wasn't kidding by forgetting last night's mistakes and swallowing up the disappointment when you didn’t bother asking him again and acted like nothing ever happened.

But it's okay, Min Yoongi is a patient man, he can wait.

So when you appeared before him, a red string tied prettily around your pinkie with the thread leading back to his own, he was beyond euphoric .

He felt like he could climb the highest summit bare in record speed with no equipment and only the warmth of the new bond.

The moment you all appeared in the living room with your shoulder and linked hands glowing purple, all hell broke loose. You didn't even get to look at Yoongi’s reaction when everyone was exploding around you, running to look at the evidence of your connection to Taehyung up close.

“Holy shit!”

“What the fuck?!”

“You guys are connected?!”

“What the fuck is happening right now?!”

Taehyung, despite being the second guy discovering himself as your soulmate, kept a smug smile hovered protectively behind you, hands planted on your shoulders and pushing his hyungs a few steps away to keep them from overwhelming you.

Everyone surrounding you had varying reactions even then, Namjoon kept his distance but hovered over behind his brothers with his eyebrows furrowed, staring with his calculating gaze and the heartbeat echoing at the back of your head grow rampant.

You didn’t dare look at Seokjin, whose gaze weighed heavily with hurt and disappointment, penetrated through your skin, especially when you heard him run upstairs, and the door of his room slams shut.

He who had confessed first, had continued to love you even when you had thought he had moved on, somehow didn’t make the cut. Another cruel joke the fates have played.

It was Jimin who snapped you out of the trance when he grazed the side of your neck and flinched back when swirls of gold erupted from the spot he ghosted over before both your knees buckled. The gleaming gold ink spinning a pretty vine-like twirl before sinking back into your skin.

If the room was loud earlier, it has erupted into a mass hysteria now.

Because four out of your seven bosses turn out to be tethered to you. Three who you had rejected before and one who has never shown any romantic interest in you.

How funny was it for the universe to link you to the same men you've rejected for the fear of ruining the amazing brotherhood they've built from years of hard work and tears?

The sensation of two cascading waves of calmness from the bonds trying to soothe the ever growing dread clashed against each other made your stomach churn. Your headache has evolved into a pulsing one before you felt a tug on the string. From the revelation to the onslaught of feelings attacking and fighting off your initial panic, your body struggled to keep up with its conflicting emotions.

You wanted to run, to hide from their gaze, to put an end to the conflicted mess of emotions being forced into you and surfacing along with your thoughts.

Jimin has refrained from touching you since earlier, his beautiful face now contorted into concern, his soft eyes seeing past the fog in yours while the world continues around you. He stares at you as if trying to decipher something, as if he could somehow feel how overwhelmed you are.

He opened his mouth to say something, his hands already reaching to pull Taehyung and Jungkook away from you when a voice broke through the chatter.

“You're crowding her too much!”

Namjoon’s hands were steadying when he held your shoulders, like water in a desert, like the light at the end of a dark tunnel. With their leader stepping in, all words fell into a hush and for the first time since the chaos, it was silent; save for the slowing rhythms of two heartbeats thudding in your head.

If Taehyung and Jungkook's touch felt like a jolt of energy and Jimin was rejuvenating and healing, Namjoon had the ability to kill the noise in your mind with eye contact alone.

Peering deeper into his gaze, your breath stutters because the knowing glint within them has confirmed another thought of yours. Shared heartbeats . Suddenly the other beat in your head sounded clearer, more present along with your thoughts.

A fifth soulmate.

What the fuck.

“Hyung, are you sober enough to drive?”

Hoseok turns to him, face turning serious as he glances at you once more before nodding.

“I’ll get her home, I didn't drink much anyways.”

It felt burdensome to leave such a life-altering problem for them to handle while you cower in their spare bedroom, trying to hide from the reality that you might be linked to all seven of them.

The reassuring squeeze on your shoulders brought you back from the guilty trans you’ve submerged into and was faced with Namjoon's kind eyes and smile.

“Go home noona, we'll handle it from here.”

“You sure?”

He nods. “I know this is overwhelming so I want you to go rest and let me do the planning and talking, alright?”

When you didn’t respond, Namjoon wrapped his arms around you. There’s hesitance in how his movement stuttered, could hear him ponder as he pulled you flush to his chest, afraid of affecting you like the maknaes had but when his touch didn’t evoke the staggering flood of euphoria, he grew more sure of his movements.

With a kiss on your head, he unwraps himself from you and gently guides you back to Hoseok who’s now standing outside the open door of their dorm. His eyes were glued onto you, following your form as you near him but somehow, it felt like he was staring past through you and into the void.

Walking to the car was a silent affair and you don’t know if you rather have Hoseok being quiet or not.

It was bearable when he turned on the radio and a song that has no connection to the boys plays, not that it ever stopped the thoughts constantly spawning from the crevices of your mind.

When you had asked the fates for a soulmate, had you sounded so desperate that they'd given you five?

You’ve heard of three souls connected, hell, Yeonjun is a part of a five-way soulmate link; Interlinked, is what they’re called. Everyone in the group has their own unique mark with each member which usually led to constant overstimulation in the beginning, which made the company put them on medications until their bond settles a year later.

Even today, there are times where they still get affected by their bonds, although not as often as it used to. It was a wonder how there haven't been investigations put on BigHit with how often the five had to be sent to the hospital for soulbond hyperactivity at least once a week for a whole year.

But a nexus between six people, five connected to one. That is unheard of, the rarest even.

Five soulmates yet none of those were Seokjin. Someone who had stuck with you since the first day, the first to confess, and the one who remained loyal, wasn’t tethered to you.

“Hoba?’

“Yes, noona?”

He sounded guarded, his face ironed into a neutral, more serious expression as he slowed as the traffic light went red.

“What’s gonna happen now?”

He bit his lower lip as he pondered, thumbs tapping incessantly on the wheel before he spoke.

“We're gonna have to update your statuses in the DFR, but I doubt the company will make it public just yet. There's nothing also in our contract that prohibits us from pursuing a relationship with our soulmates if we ever come across them so you're good on that front.”

You notice how he excluded himself from the Nexus bond and you feel a pinch on your heart at how formal he has become, as if he’s already put up a wall between you both.

“We'll probably have a long talk about it once I get back but I doubt they'd wait that long for me. You’re probably wouldn't be allowed to touch Jimin and Taehyung anymore when you're working because your soulmarks are very obvious and I know you don't want—”

“Y-You don't think you're also…”

Silence followed as he adjusted himself in his seat as the car began to move again, his hands drumming on the wheel halts as the facade he's wearing shattered for a moment and his eyes grew foggy, clouded by a deep shade of blue.

Under the passing warm lights of the streetlights overhead, Hoseok has never looked more devastated to you than he does now.

You had never noticed it, he has always been open with his affections to his friends so you never thought of it as anything but his usual touchiness. He shows his care for you in the same way he does with his brothers, so paid it no need and brushed it off.

How could Soobin notice it? What had he seen that you missed?

“If I was, I would've felt something different but here we are.” He forces out a laugh before glancing at you and offering a hand. You notice how his smile doesn’t seem to reach his eyes. “We're still the bestest of friends even without the mark, right?”

Hesitantly, you took it.

The moment your fingers wrapped around his Hoseok immediately takes his hand back in favor of holding the brake between you both.

You try to not let his aversion to touch affect you. It was understandable why he isn’t touching you as he always had. New soulbonds are fickle, there’s been multiple reports where people are rushed into ER after brushing their hands against strangers and had been in excruciating pain from soulbond strain.

Their new bodies had thought they were denying destiny and had punished them. It was ridiculous.

But for him to completely retreat to himself, visibly putting up a tall wall between you both is a different kind of pain. For Hoseok, someone who has never had to restrain himself from holding your hands or hugging you whenever he's excited, to step back hurts you more than you thought it would.

“Noona, we’re here.”

As you left the car, you pondered on what to say to him. What could you even tell him?

Do you even say you're sorry he's not one of your soulmates or would that sound mocking?

Should you say that you had wished once that he becomes tethered to you or would that be rubbing salt on the wound?

But before you could even turn around and say your goodbyes, the moment the door was closed, Hoseok drove off.

Waking up was dreadful.

It felt more exhausting and daring than it had yesterday when you were going to your third date with Guwon. Sleeping was difficult, you could feel Yoongi touch the string from miles away, eyes flying open whenever you felt the thread become tangible and gently glow in the darkness of your room.

It wasn't his soul-link alone that disturbed you, Namjoon’s heartbeat constantly changed rhythm although it was faint enough to blend into the background with the rumble of the air conditioner. From the nervous gallops to the calmer but deeper thuds whenever he seems to drown himself in his own thoughts.

You had research about your soul links when you grew restless in your bed, obsessed over the fact there's little to no information on your and Jimin's mark, trying to ignore the concerned messages from your mother and sister. They were asking about Guwon and why you decided to end things. You know that you should explain, you at least owe your mother the reason why you had decided to stop seeing the lawyer but you couldn't.

After weeks of her constant questioning and spamming links of wedding organizers and dressmakers, you couldn't find the courage to face your mother.

Not that it matters anymore though, not after last night.

Would you send her to an early grave once you tell her the news? How do you even break the news to your parents? Hi mom, I'm sorry I've been ignoring you yesterday. Yes, I stopped seeing Guwon but hey, I found you five new son-in-laws and they happen to be the members of the world's biggest boyband so don't be mad yeah?

She might just make true to her threat of hanging you upside down on a sack on your porch back in the province.

The same thought had led you to realizing how close you were to being engaged with Guwon in Jeju only to find out the next day who your soulmates were.

When you trudged to the bathroom, exhaustion clung and weighed your bones but you excused it to your shitty sleep.

Not once has any of the boys reached out to you the whole night, the silence from Seokjin carving a hollowness in your chest. You know that they're busy handling the grunt and paperworks due today but to have not a single text in the groupchat made dread crawl up within you.

So when the door rang a quarter to nine, you jumped.

The door opens and Namjoon steps into your living room with Seokjin following closely behind him, expression guarded and eyes averted while the former approaches you. Both their eyes are swollen, no doubt from a sleepless night except Seokjin's looks far puffier than the other.

“Hi noona,” Namjoon began, voice soft as ever as he approached you to wrap his arms around you and you let him. “Hyung’s here with me to drive you to the DFR, the others went first since we decided that it's better if you're not lumped up with all your soulmates in one small space so it's just us three today.”

“Have you eaten?” Seokjin says, unmoving from where he stands a step away from the door, guarded and stiff, as if trying to meld himself into the wood.

His voice is hoarse and he looked more worn than you've ever seen him yet he managed to sound soft and put on the smallest of smiles. Your heart twinges.

“I haven't, you guys didn't tell me when we were going to have the bond registered.”

Namjoon sheepishly scratches the back of his head. “Sorry about that. We got busy discussing how we'll be moving forward, the company has already cleared out the office and as Hobi-hyung might've told you, they're doing everything they can to keep this under wraps for now.”

“There’s unfortunately no time for take-outs due to the time crunch, I doubt you guys will be out by twelve but I think we can all go for a good, filling lunch.”

“Jinnie, are you okay?”

The words slipped out of your lips before you could realize it had. His eyes widened for a fracture, taken aback before a sad smile stretched his lips.

“I will be, don't worry.”

Namjoon claps his hands abruptly, cutting through the air as he forces out a grin. “Alright, let's be on our way.”

“What about the family dinners?” You pushed on.

“We'll tell them the truth. I can't exactly bring you to family dinners as my fake girlfriend anymore now, can I?”

What started as Jin needing your help in stopping vulture-like aunties trying to introduce their daughters to him, grew far more serious when Mrs. Kim began to invite you annually to their family reunion dinners and had begun sending you the occasional gift boxes from her trips abroad. You tried giving them to Jin when the first box came but he insisted you keep them anyway. It made you feel guilty for tricking his family, especially his mother, but Jin needed your help in warding off the bad energy .

“We told hyung that once the bond gets stable next year, you can continue attending them.” Namjoon adds.

“Obviously I denied, what a stupid idea.” Seokjin immediately responds with a scoff and Namjoon rolls his eyes. “Why are you even paired with them when they disregard your safety like this? Really, why would you guys even suggest that?”

Namjoon turns to him with a look that seems to ask ‘do you really want me to answer that?’ and Seokjin pursed his lips in a straight line. You laughed.

It was a relief to see that nothing has changed within their dynamics. You had feared the day everyone would turn against each other because of you. It had made you wary of how much time you spend with a member one on one, scared the others would think of it as picking favorites.

To see Seokjin, the one you have no doubt been more devastated than Hoseok, be making light hearted jokes about the soulmarks lifted off a huge weight from your shoulders.

“I hope auntie won't take it to heart. You were a nice boyfriend but you kept nagging me to pay a nonsense debt.”

“You still have a balance to settle with me, don't forget that,” He jokes. “But seriously, mom would be sad, she likes you better than me.”

Namjoon's phone pings, the sound silencing you both. With a hissed apology, he turned his attention to the device and read the notification on his lock screen before turning to you.

“We need to get going soon. Hobi hyung said Yoongi hyung and Jimin just got called up.”

“Wait, I haven't showered yet! You guys didn't even warn me!”

But as you move to run back to your room, Namjoon stops you with a hand on your shoulder.

“It's fine, noona.”

“It's not like we haven't seen you with unwashed hair for two days straight.”

“Hey that was one time!” You exclaimed, indignant.

“What was the longest day, hyung?” Namjoon clicks his fingers, a small teasing grin tugging his lips.

“Three days I think?”

“I thought it was a week?”

“So that's why she looked so greasy.”

Their laughter when you slapped both their arms twinkled in your ears. The sound warming your chest but also grating your gears at the same time.

Fresher than you had been earlier, you all arrive at the DFA an hour later. Spending thirty preparing, another half traveling to the heart of Seoul.

There's already a few bodyguards dressed in civilian wear lingering outside the office. Mr. Lee approached the car once the three of you began to step out before ushering all of you inside the building with a few other guards.

Save for the receptionists on the other side of the counter placed in the dead middle of the room, the lobby was empty. Sejin comes out from the wide open arch on the right, a man dressed in neatly ironed and a tailored black suit following behind him.

“Let's all move to where the rest are. We couldn't rent the building for the whole day so they’ll be opening to the general public soon but we were allowed to have one floor to ourselves.”

None of you objects and followed him to the elevator and to the second floor where you were immediately greeted by Taehyung, Hoseok and Jungkook sitting on the blue plastic seats clustered by both sides of the walls.

When the metal doors parts open, their heads turn and immediately, Taehyung stands and runs up to you with arms wide.

Namjoon and Seokjin weren't able to react fast enough. The moment Taehyung wrapped himself around you, a powerful wave of bliss crashed over you and your legs gave out. They all screamed your name as you fell but they were muffled, hands grabbed onto whatever they could in the haste of catching you.

In the bleariness of your vision, you could make out Taehyung narrowly avoiding crumpling onto the floor when someone caught him by the waist.

“...That was so stupid of you…”

“...Why…Taehyung?...”

“Noona?”

The haze clears and you find yourself being carried by Seokjin into the nearest doctor’s office. You hear the door open before Yoongi’s exasperated but concerned voice follows.

“What the hell happened now?”

“Taehyung forgot they're soulmates and hugged her.”

“Fuckin—Just get her inside.”

“Noona, I’m so sorry!”

Seokjin lets you down on a soft cushioned armchair and you find yourself staring back at a bespectacled woman with hair so straight you wonder how Yoongi didn't feel exorcized at the sight of it.

She didn't waste any time and she rose from her seat to inject something in your arm.

“What a wild introduction this is. First you come in with five soulmates, a Nexus group and one of them having Healing Touch, and as if that's not intriguing enough, you faint after a touch from Love Prints! So, very interesting!”

She returns to her seat as the haze ebbs away from your vision with the glowing purple paint on your torso.

“I guess it's true that all soul specialists are… enthusiastic .”

“Only on the right things, don't worry we don't bite.”

There's almost a manic look in her eyes as she stares at you with a fascination only seen in a mad geologist who had found a new and infinitely curious piece of history in the dirt. Seokjin pats your shoulders, squeezing it assuringly for the last time before he disappears out the door.

“So, how's this gonna go?”

Doctor Gwak Jihye was a woman with flat light brown hair almost the same height as you. There's narrow rectangle glasses sitting neatly on the bridge of her nose and a notable beauty mark placed on the apple of her right cheekbones. Black vine-like tattoos peaked out of her cream turtleneck, a soulmark you guessed once you saw the ring on her finger.

The band is as dark as the night yet gleaned like stars under the bright light of the room with three deep blue sapphires engraved on the front. A ring made from soul metal created and only used by the tethered.

She wore the standard white coat of every doctor you’ve ever met with the exception of the detailed pin of two white strings knotted together inside a heart and a red cross placed in the middle of it all.

“We'll do the basic health checks, the measurements and all the like, nothing too difficult. Then we educate you on every soulmark you have. You are aware of what you have with the five of them, correct?”

She rapid fires and you're left agape, mouth closing and open as your brain catches up. The doctor raised an eyebrow and you nod. With that, she motions to the scales behind you as she stands. You followed the woman to the stadiometer placed next to the door.

Once she was done taking your measurements down, you both returned to her desk where she asked you a few questions about your allergies and recent medical history. It was an easy procedure, almost boring. The ever so present exhaustion is still weighing your bones, you yawned. Staying awake felt like a challenge and you don't doubt she had noticed this when she placed down her board to open her drawer.

“You are feeling more exhausted than before, am I correct in assuming this?”

“Yes…?”

She hummed when she found what she was looking for and placed the thick white medicine bottle in front of you.

“This should help your body get used to the bonds whenever you touch Jimin or Taehyung. The exhaustion is normal since you live far from them but once you move in and are surrounded by your soulmates, you should feel more energized.”

Amoneuron , it reads on the label. Curious, you twist the lid open to see what might just be a hundred of blush pink colored round pills.

“With that out of the way, from what I've heard from Yoongi, you've researched every soulmark there is at one point in your life but I doubt that you don't have any questions,” She fished out the yellow folder under her board and opened it, not knowing how surprised you are to hear Yoongi’s involvement. “Anything you'd like to know about?”

Your mind takes you back to the empty search and countless ‘Did you mean…?’ questions on every result. Jimin and your marks never yielded any results, none in Naver and none in Google.

You tried finding it in your books but none of them were ever close to the touch activated golden swirls and the feeling of being rejuvenated.

“I tried researching what could be Jimin and I’s soulmark but I couldn't find one, is it that rare of a mark?”

She nods. “ Healing touch , there's so little information of that type of mark since the last recorded case can be traced back to 1934.”

Your eyes widen, surprised by how rare of a mark you share with Jimin.

“Which meant if there were soul-link related sickness between you, I fear that we won't be much of help as we don't know much about Healing Touch other than mates who has it doesn't get hungry, thirsty nor need much sleep if they interacted enough,” She gauges your reaction, when she saw your confusion she continues. “By interacting enough, I don't mean hugs or hand holding, I mean kisses and sex.”

You began to cough violently, choking on your saliva at her bluntness, cheeks burning bright but she ignored you and continued.

“Hand holding and hugs can only guarantee better stamina and endurance, even being close enough can make the other have a bottomless energy. As this concerns a highly valued individual, our team is already attempting to acquire more information about Healing Touch but I don’t have an estimated time on when we’ll be ready to share our findings, please understand that we are also surprised by this mark’s sudden revival.” She smiled. “Anything else you'd like to ask?”

“Are Taehyung and Jimin's marks somehow similar? I remember feeling… rejuvenated whenever the both of them touched me but then got overstimulated.”

Her eyebrows rose.

“No, Taehyung’s touch shouldn’t affect you outside of the first touch nor should you be suffering from soulbond hyperactivity from both of them. When Seokjin had carried you in, what exactly happened beforehand?”

“When Taehyung hugged me again not too long ago, we experienced soulbond hyperactivity.”

“Huh.” Was all she replied with, hand scribbling furiously on her notes. You had the urge to sit up a little straight and take a peak at what she’s writing down so passionately but decided against it, fearing what you might learn from it.

“Any guesses on what could have caused this?”

“It's hard to say much for now since Healing Touch is a very rare mark. But I can hazard a guess and say that due to their similar nature being touch-activated marks and Healing Touch being as powerful as it is, it had influenced Love Print somehow.”

If her words were anything to go by, If Jimin and your soulmark does greatly affect both your livelihoods by practically rendering you both immortals by eliminating the need for food, sleep, and water as long as the needed affection level is met; not to mention, as long as the both of you are close enough, exhaustion is nothing but a word.

And if Taehyung’s soulmark has evolved due to Healing Touch, then wouldn’t the benefits, at least the bare bones of them, extend to him as well?

You already sense the building headache you’re about to experience in the future with three—including Jungkook whose energy is already a thousand times more of a kid in a toy store—bouncy men with the energy of a toddler in a sugar rush. In advance, you began to pray internally for Namjoon, Sejin, and Seokjin’s sanity.

“It seems that I am due to share notes with the doctor who had interviewed Jimin,” She says as she slams close the cover of her journal with a smile. “This could lead to a breakthrough in the future, with both of your permissions, we would like to study your soulmark more intimately.”

“I wouldn’t be opposed to it but my soulmate might not share the sentiment. The company as well.”

“Your soulmarks could very well lead up to the discovery of the cure to an incurable disease, I doubt he would decline such a possibility.”

You don’t doubt the possibility of your soulmark being the answer to the long time issue of something as fatal as cancer or dementia but the prospect of being examined, had made you feel uncomfortable. To be under intense scrutiny and possibly put under a specific diet to tailor to their needs—especially when Jimin had only recently stopped caring about his body image—had made you more unwilling to participate.

You’d spare a few vials of blood since your bond can regenerate it back in record time but a prolonged trial is definitely a no.

“Why did it manifest now? After all those years, why now?” You ask abruptly, trying to change the subject. You hoped she would take the bait and luckily, she did with a defeated sigh.

The answer to your question is already solved, it was simple.

“As you know, once we hit the age of 16, the chances of meeting our soulmates goes up to 10% and will gain the same amount the next year will continue on till it hits a hundred on the 26th and the chances of manifesting a mark stops on the 27th,” You nod, feigning ignorance and she continues. “The Nexus connection had to wait for Jungkook to show which had put yours and the rest to a state of dormancy. So when he turned 21, with half a hundred chance, he finally got a mark and here we are.”

You stand and bow, not wanting to leave any free millisecond where she could try continuing to pressure you into agreeing into their research.

“Thank you so much for your insight, Dr. Gwak.”

She looked incredulous and surprised by your sudden actions before returning the gesture.

“It’s a pleasure to be able to foresee a unique connection such as yours, Ms. Y/n. I hope you all the best.”

With that, you leave the room in a haste and let out the biggest exhale once the door behind you closes.

You hear the soft murmurs of voice just around the corner where you guessed you’ll find everyone save for Namjoon who must’ve been called after you had been carried in by Seokjin. But when one door closes, another opens. There’s still a few things you’re due today, a talk with the inner circle of the company, talking with the legal team to figure out who else can know the connection outside of your Nexus, and how you’ll be continuing working as their make-up artist.

There’s a tug down the thread and you look down at your pinkie to see the line turn tangible and vibrant before a wave of concern floods your system.

Tentatively, you twirled the string around your finger and the headache fades. You watch as it glows brighter, livelier with both hosts touching it before tugging it back twice. Instantly, Yoongi responds with another. You expected the string to dim, for him to let go but it remained vibrant under both of your touch.

The dull ache at the back of your head returns.

“Are you the lady with the Healing Touch soulmark?”

You jumped back to see an old woman, around the age of sixty, peering up at you with a gentle smile playing on her lips. She dons the same white coat Dr. Gwak wears the same pin of a soul specialist on the lapel and her name tag displayed on her breast pocket.

Shin Sun-young , it reads.

“In my years of being a specialist, I've never seen so many souls connected to one so I'm sorry if I'm a bit much, I'm very curious how it must feel. Having one is already overwhelming for me, I can’t imagine how you’re feeling now.”

“Yeah it's a bit much sometimes… I had three of them touch me all at the same time and I almost fainted. I don't know how I can deal with it.”

“We have some medicines for that but I’m sure you already know that and have been prescribed right. It’ll dull up your senses till the first year then you can stop taking it.”

She pats your back as you both walk off the sides and you find your soulmates sitting obediently down the hall. Jimin was lying on one cluster of seats in front of the others with an arm over his eyes and the other pinched into a fist on top of his stomach while the rest of the boys squeezed together into the five seats on the opposite wall.

You notice the missing presence of their eldest but shrugged it off, guessing that he must've wandered off to find the bathroom or a vending machine.

“I hope it goes well for you seven, I'm sure they'll treat you so well.”

Your head snaps to her. “Seven?”

“Oh? Am I wrong? I thought all of those boys are tethered to you. Forgive this old soul.”

A suspicious voice told you that she had intentionally guessed wrong to fish for information but you tampered it down, giving the curious woman the benefit of a doubt. Soul specialists have the reputation of being knowledge-driven crazy people with barely any other qualifying trait other than their unusual obsession with soulmates after all and this lady might just be one of the people that fits the bill.

“Hoseok and Jin, their eldest who has gone somewhere, aren't tethered to me. There's no sign of any marks manifesting and we just assumed the worst.”

You hated how you sounded so dejected. You must’ve sounded so greedy to the lady for wanting to have your seven friends to be yours, as if you even deserve Seokjin’s unfaltering love.

She hums. “Are you sure about that?”

“What do you mean?” You ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Dear, everything in the world is advanced now. They could have their blood tested to see if there's a possibility that they're also tethered to you.”

You were reminded of the times where you began to dread your birthdays when you should've been celebrating, the desperation before the abrupt descend of defeat on your birthday this year when you finally realize that you weren't

“How is that possible? Why now? We've had years of technological evolution but something like that only appears now? Where was this when I wanted to find out if I was—”

She sighs and puts a hand on your shoulder, effectively shutting you up. “Soulmates are spiritual deary, past technology and brains of yesterdays had difficulty in figuring out the hows and why it works. But now, I can assure you that we have finally found a way to find if you're really untethered or not.”

“Tha-that’s a thing?”

You turned around to find Seokjin on the opposite hall, carrying what seems to be a hundred snacks with two hands, surprise contorting his face. Crossing the distance in under two steps, he stared at the lady with hopeful eyes.

“Where can I have myself checked?”

The way his voice dripped with hope, with desperation of a man who had lost his way and finally found a chance of redemption, a new salvation to pour his attention to. Hearing it made your chest clench. But there was no testimony for their new found tech, there's no telling if they're actually telling the truth.

As much as you are curious as to what the result could be, you couldn't have Seokjin join the test all hopeful only to fall into a deeper hole if he found out that he's actually untethered.

Your heart won't be able to handle the absolute devastation that would follow.

“Jinnie—”

“You boys are in luck, we just had the machine set up last night and we’re looking for—”

“I’ll do it. Me and someone else.”

As they began to talk about the technicalities of using the machine and partaking in their research, you found yourself standing there in shock.

You already suspected Hoseok also shared the same sentiment Jin held but to hear him indirectly confirm them had your heart bottoming to the soles of your feet. The guilt that used to only stem from Jin and Taehyung's confession came back to you like a blow to the head.

Jin then briskly walked away, you followed to see him approach an increasingly concerned Hoseok who watched his hyung march up to him with an indistinguishable fire in his eyes.

“Hoba, I found a way.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Found a way… to what exactly?”

“They have the technology to figure out if we're actually untethered or not.”

Everyone's eyes widened. Jimin had woken up from his nap and turned his head to his hyungs, shocked by what he had heard. Taehyung's jaw hung open, looking around in bewilderment before he stood to walk around the rest of the boys and into the stunned Hoseok on the other side of the seats to engulf him in a hug.

Even Manager Sejin who has been talking to the lawyer he brought with him had turned to listen to the conversation.

“H-Hyung—”

“I've already talked to the doctor who will be overseeing our examination and all they ask of us is our blood then the resul—”

“No.”

Seokjin’s shine dims with the atmosphere as his smile falls. Taehyung pulls away, more astounded than he was before as he stares at him in disbelief.

“Hyung?”

“Wh-what do you mean?” Seokjin stammers out in disbelief.

“What if it came out as negative still? Hyung, I've already accepted my status. I-I don't want to raise my hopes up only to come down to the same result.”

“It doesn't hurt to try Hoba,” Seokjin said softer this time as he placed a hand on his shoulder. “Try with me, please . If it's negative at least we can lament together.”

Hoseok agreed not too long after, unable to say no to his hyung, not when he's begging and pleading. Seokjin led him back to the soul specialist to have their blood taken. You had waited for them next to Yoongi on the seat Hoseok had occupied earlier. It's only 10am at that point yet your energy tank is drier than the sahara and non-existent as a stress-free day for you. When the two returned, you were slumped down on Yoongi's shoulder half asleep.

The exhausting day didn't end there.

After your soulmarks were registered, you all went to BigHit for a meeting and you thanked the high heavens no one from your department had seen you enter the conference room with the boys and a lawyer.

Minhyuk had asked you why there'll be a company party at dinner but no birthday boy will be showing up. You lied and told him that Jungkook’s going back to Busan to celebrate his birthday with his family. Jihye had also questioned your absence and you had apologized to her, knowing how often you've been going for leaves these past few weeks.

She says it's fine but you still feel bad anyways.

The meeting was short yet it felt like centuries has passed until you were freed. Just a couple of rules being laid like you being unable to handle Jimin and Taehyung anymore, the living situation where you'd be moved to the Bangtan dorms, and who else would know about the connections between you and the boys—they had approved letting your three friends know once you reasoned that they'll be able to save you once people began to question your aversion to touching Jimin and Taehyung in the future.

By the time you had trudge into your room, you were beyond the word exhaustion. Brain far too fogged up you to pick up on the blaring red lights in your mind as the world swirled around you and you fell face first into your bed.

You chalked it up to your sleepless night and the emotional stress you've gone through these past few days so imagine your shock when you wake up and find yourself in a sterile and white room whose ceiling lights burned your eyes the moment they opened again.

It was so bright and so white, you remember passing out before you came here and all you could feel now was bliss, as if the heavy baggage you've collected from last week and last night had been lifted off your form.

As if you were in heaven .

“G-God?”

“No, it's Min Yoongi. Open your eyes, brat.”

The haze clears at his gruff voice and you began to hear the stable beeping echoing in the hollow room. There's a heavy weight wounded loosely around your waist as well on your legs, turning your head, you were faced with the peaceful but almost colorless face of Jimin, his usually plush pink lips now pale and chaffed as his body trembled next to you; you were shaking too.

Turning to Yoongi to ask him what happened, you find your hand entangled with his. His impassive face now laced with concern and there were dark bags hanging under his eyes as if he hadn't been sleeping for a while.

“What the fuck happened?”

TAGLIST: @wildestdreamsblog @canarystwin @prettywheenicry @jmnscutie @sassy-snassy @misuguru @11thenightwemet11 @yoongibaybee @rinkud @bri602 @igetcarriedawaywithyou @marvel-potter-1d-korea @comingupwithacoolnameishard @sooha-neul @juju-227592 @coffeewanderer

337 notes · View notes

hannibals-favourite-meal · 5 months ago

Note

enemies to lovers w/ spencer reid plzz 💗

.⋆｡Whispers in the Dark｡⋆.

Spencer Reid x plus size reader

You and Spencer have been at each other’s throats for months and the team is sick of it. So while on a case in a conveniently tiny town, they do something to fix it

Warnings: usual cm warnings (kidnapping, murder, serial killer), enemies to lovers, one bed trope (i’m not sorry), confessions, little bit of partial nudity, Spencer and reader are horny for each other and neither know how to deal with it, implied smut WC: 2.4k

6k Follower Celebration Bingo

Library- @hannibals-favourite-meal-library

If there was one thing that was a guarantee in this life, it was the DOCTOR (as he always liked to remind you) Spencer Reid would not keep his fucking mouth shut. You used to think it was endearing the way he so passionately spoke about anything and everything but after the 30th time he interrupted you (in front of every mind you), it got annoying real fast. And somehow, it was even worse today.

A series of kidnappings occurring in a small town in the middle of buttfuck nowhere that exactly replicated the town’s urban legend about a vengeful spirit killing those who tried to leave without offering sacrifice. Given your extensive knowledge on the development of folklore specifically tied to serial killers, it was an unspoken agreement that you would be taking the lead on the case.

But Reid had a very different idea.

“This is obviously someone using the story to get rid of people they have a vendetta against.” You fought the urge to roll your eyes at the young doctor. His lean body blocked the column of victim photos as he pointed to the map of the town beside it. He had drawn over several places with a red marker and although the abduction sites did fall into his contracted triangle of a comfort zone, something in your gut told you it was more than that.

“Look, I’m going to keep saying it. This goes way deeper. This has been happening for generations. 2002, 1985, 1968, hell even all the way back to the fucking 1820s! It’s either all 17 year olds getting killed or 17 people killed total each year it occurs, with it switching each time.” Spencer made a sound that was almost a scoff but with Hotch’s steely gaze fixed on the both of you, he covered it up by clearing his throat.

“Mark Adin was 18.”

“He turned 18 the day he died, Reid! And if you looked at his birth certificate, you’d see that his time of death was an hour before he would actually turn 18.”

“If you would just-“

“Alright!” Derek placed a firm hand onto Spencer’s shoulder, making him stumble slightly. “We get it, you’re both freakishly smart but I think it’s late and we all need some sleep.” He shot you a look as you crossed your arms over your chest, red hot anger and frustration still bubbling up inside you.

It always ended like that, one of the other members of your team stepped in before insults could be hurled (it’s happened once or twice before) and suggested a break while you and Spencer continued to glare at each other. He continuously undermined your theories and in return, you questioned his intelligence.

“I’m sure Y/L/N will realise how ridiculous she’s being after some undeserved rest. I mean, when is she ever right.” Your stomach dropped and Derek’s smile dimmed for a second before he wound an arm around the young doctor’s shoulders and guided him out of the conference room the team had commandeered far quicker than he normally did.

You opened your mouth to shout something back at him but Emily grabbed your forearm before you could. “It’s not worth it.” You met her gaze and quickly deflated.

“Yeah okay.” She gave you a soft smile as you both left the room together, missing the weighty glance Hotch and Rossi shared.

——————

“I can’t believe that you and JJ are doing this to me,” you whined, hiking up the strap of your go-bag higher on your shoulder, “you promised last time that we had to share rooms that it would be you and me. I don’t want to get stuck with Hotch again, he snores like a fucking freight train.” Emily poked your ribs as she passed by, shooting you a mischievous grin.

“You were too busy flirting with Reid to notice us making sleeping arrangements.” You huffed and followed her out of the elevator.

“I wasn’t FlIrTinG with him and by the way, that’s disgusting you even thought of that.” The hallway was dead silent save for the faint buzz of the ice machine at the very end.

“Yeah, that’s definitely why you totally weren’t checking out his ass while he was setting up the white board.”

“Emily!” You hissed but she only laughed in response.

“Come on, it’s so obvious that you like him! This childish rivalry you have is just sexual tension so for all of our sakes can you please just fuck him already so we can actually do our jobs.”

“Alright maybe I would like him if he wasn’t such an ass to me all the time.” You conceded, earning you a sly grin from your friend as you both came to a stop outside your hotel room door. “But! He constantly undermines me and makes me feel like shit so it’s never gonna happen.”

Emily stood by her own door, her key-card already in hand. “And you love to rile him up. So, never say never.” And with that, she slipped into her room, shutting the door before you could retort.

You rolled your eyes as you unlocked your own door and stepped in. The shower was already running but what mainly concerned you was the lack of a second bed. You sighed heavily, dropping your bag on the empty side away from the door. You were too exhausted and frustrated to even be mad about having to share both a room and a bed with your boss. Too exhausted in fact to notice the sweater on the chair in the corner couldn’t have possibly belonged to the older man.

Quickly, you stripped down to your underwear and slipped on your sleep clothes, figuring you could wake up early and shower before heading back to the police station. You sighed as you crawled beneath the sheets, the worn mattress immediately cradling your soft body.

Your eyelids had just begun to flutter shut when the water turned off. You turned onto your other side in anticipation of the bright light from the bathroom fully waking you up but what you didn’t expect was the accompaniment of the one voice you hadn’t wanted to hear until you had at least 6 hours of sleep and a massive coffee.

“What the hell?”

“Fuck me.” You sat up and took in the sight of a very damp Spencer Reid wearing only a towel around his waist. You refused to look down at his naked torso (no matter how badly you wanted to).

“You’re not Morgan.” He retorted.

“And here I was thinking you were a genius. Do you usually walk around half-naked with Derek?” He didn’t dignify you with a response this time, only grabbing his bag and retreating to the bathroom once more. As soon as the door shut, you launched yourself at your phone.

<I’m going to fucking kill you

>We’ve all packed noise cancelling headphones so don’t hold back ;)

>BTW before you even ask, there’s no more rooms available. Small towns are just great aren’t they

<I’ll get you back for this

>Sweet dreams

You could scream as you shut off your phone, Emily’s texts disappearing, leaving you staring at your reflection on the black screen. You should’ve known something was up when Hotch insisted that everyone take separate SUVs to the hotel under the guise of everyone splitting up first thing in the morning. The man was a fucking menace.

The mattress groaned as you laid back down, far closer to the edge this time. If Spencer took your hint and just left you alone for the rest of the night, you would consider it an overwhelming success. This time when the door opened, the light was already off, letting you breathe a sigh of relief.

The bed dipped and your body tensed for a moment. You waited for him to speak, but when he didn’t, you finally relaxed. In the silence and darkness of the room, you could pretend that you were anywhere else.

“Will you stop hogging the blankets?” You knew this peace couldn’t have possibly lasted.

“If you had turned on the heater I wouldn’t have to.” You grumbled but still released your hold on the covers just enough for him to take some more of it.

“Not my fault you’re always freezing for no reason.” The blanket lifted from your leg as Spencer fully wrapped himself up. You sighed but decided not to pick a fight, Emily’s words still circling your mind. Instead you wrapped your arms around your stomach as you drew your legs up, curling around yourself. You just wanted to sleep.

“What, no witty comeback?” You sighed heavily and squeezed your eyes shut.

“I get that I don’t ‘deserve to rest’ but I’m exhausted Spencer. Neither of us want to be here so can we just try to get some sleep and leave each other alone.” Thankfully, he stayed silent, for a moment at least.

“You called me Spencer.”

“Oh my god, can you please just let me sleep? Yes I called you Spencer, it’s your name isn’t it?” You snapped although you knew what he meant. You had never even referred to him by his first name in the almost 18 months since you had been on the team, just the same as he did with you.

“I’m sorry.”

“Fine.” You pressed your face into the thin pillow beneath your head, determined to finally fall asleep.

“No, Y/N I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have said what I did. There’s a lot of things I shouldn’t have said to you.” The bedsprings screamed in the quiet of the room and suddenly you could feel the gentle brush of Spencer’s breath along the back of your neck. You suppressed a shiver as best you could. “You don’t deserve to be treated like that.”

“Why are you bringing this up now? Are you trying to get laid or something?” Your tone held no bite but you could still feel the way he flinched. A sour taste bloomed in your mouth. “Sorry. For what it’s worth, I’ve been an asshole to you too.”

Tentatively, you rolled onto your back, your shoulder now brushing his. Soft light bled into the room from the light in the hallway, dimly letting you see his silhouette. Already, Spencer’s hair was a mess, different strands sticking up or to his face. His right hand rested on his chest while the left was by his side, barely a fraction of an inch from touching your own. He turned his head, making eye-contact with you for probably the first time since you had known him.

“Why— What did I do to make you hate me so much?” You muttered, suddenly unable to speak any louder than a whisper. You watched his chest hitch and then deflate.

“You didn’t do anything. I guess— it was easier to hate you than admit the truth.” The warmth of his skin made you breathe a sigh of relief as he pressed his hand to yours.

“And what is the truth Spencer?” Even in the limited light, you could see the way his eyes dropped to your lips. His lithe fingers curled around your wrist and gently lifted your hands so that it rested between your heads.

“That when I’m around you, I can’t concentrate on anything besides how beautiful you are, how intelligent, how capable. You’ve had me wrapped around your finger since the moment we met and it’s angered me.” You didn’t realise how close you were to him until the tip of his nose bumped against yours. You sucked in a breath but it did nothing to ease the floating feeling in your stomach.

“Why’s that?” You were both now on your sides in the middle of the bed, on the edge of something more, if only one of you would fall first.

“Because I knew that the second I accepted it, there was nothing I could do to stop myself from falling for you, even if you would never feel the same.”

You smirked. “And here I was thinking you were the smartest man alive, Dr Reid.” He pressed his lips to your knuckles with a smile and before you could tell him that he was wrong and quite frankly dumb for not seeing through you (like everyone else on the team did), his hand was on your jaw and his lips on yours.

You moaned into his mouth when he leaned onto you. You grabbed at his back under his shirt, your nails digging into the surprisingly well-defined muscles along his spine. Spencer’s head tilted, encouraging the kiss to become more passionate as his tongue traced your bottom lip. You tangled your fingers in his messy hair, tugging at it slightly as your mind began to go fuzzy with the lack of oxygen.

Spencer smiled against your lips, placing two or three more soft kisses against them before rolling onto his back once more, leaving you breathless beside him. You followed him down, putting your head on his pillow. You stole another peck from him as he clutched at your wide hips.

“I can’t believe how long it’s taken us to finally talk this out. We were both being really stupid.” You giggled against his now swollen lips.

“Yeah we have.” Something tugged at your mind, breaking you away from the warm bubble of affection you were lost in.

You shot up. “What, what is it? Did I do something wrong?” Spencer practically pleaded, his hand tightly gripping at your thigh.

“You’re right, we were both being stupid! We’re both correct. What if it’s not just one unsub, but a whole family of them? 17 years between killings, Spencer!” Now it was his turn to sit up, his brown eyes wide with realisation.

“It’s a coming of age ritual. The unsub is killing people they know but under the guidance of the person that did it before them.”

“So the place where they’re keeping the victims before they kill them should be in the comfort zone and it should line up with all the past ones!” He beamed at you. “But maybe we should wait till morning to tell the others, they do need their beauty sleep.”

“And we don’t?” His hand moved higher, slipping beneath your sleep shorts, making you shudder.

“Definitely not.” You swung your leg over his hips and sat on his thighs, kissing him once more.

CM Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Join my taglist!

All works

@im-a-slut-for-fluff @alexxavicry @ravenwings73 @avada-kedavra-bitch-187 @silverfire475 @psychadelichues @mvyalx @faefanatic @evansqueen54 @anamiad00msday @th3sloth @princess76179 @Lanielagenev @luvvvjada @Lucypaulette @midnight-shadow-va @mooniequeen @slutfor-fictionalmen @km-ffluv @black-rose-29 @minedofmoria @relatednative

Criminal Minds

@lokiandbuckysdoll

#6k follower celebration #spencer reid x plus size reader #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer x plus size reader #spencer x reader #spencer x you #spencer x y/n #female reader #plus size reader #reader insert #inbox #fluff #anon #angst

392 notes · View notes

miss-oranje-disco-dancer · 8 months ago

Text

daddy is my #1 fan

pairing: re6! leon x reader

cw: ddlg, pacifier use, p in v, unprotected sex, oral sex, sex toys

summary: reader is a camgirl and her biggest fan is leon. they meet up at a hotel and have a fun and sexy time

a/n: this is a commission from an anonymous commissioner

wc: 3.1k

You started this gig in a moment of crisis. You’d just gotten laid off and didn’t know how else to come up with rent for that month. Plus, you’d seen the way men stare at you. You might as well use it to your advantage. Initially, you kept your face out of the frame, but the main attraction was still on full-display. It’s a good thing you already had a fair amount of plushies piling up on your bed and quite the collection of cute panties. DDLG had been a secret fantasy of yours for quite some time, but you’d never gotten the guts to bring it up to any of your previous partners. Good thing guys on the internet were totally into it.

You wore a schoolgirl skirt and a pair of pink cotton panties underneath. The skirt was for a Britney Spears Halloween costume, but you advertised it as a “Catholic school uniform”. The Catholic schoolgirl persona made you look even more innocent and girlish than you did when you slipped off your panties with Sanrio characters printed on them and began to grind on your pink frilly pillow.

Some of the usernames in the chat became familiar to you, though you referred to everyone as ‘daddy’ regardless of their handle. The money started rolling in and you were able to buy a vibrator that could be controlled by the paying chatters.

You also received gifts in the mail that you used on camera – sex toys, panties, and pacifiers. You ended up having to show your face with those, but it was worth it to see messages started flooding in, telling you how cute your expression was when you came.

There was one user in particular who donated a lot of money. You had set prices for access to your photos and live streams but he always tipped extra. Once, you were planning to stop the stream when he told you he’d send 300 dollars if you joined a private session with him and came one more time.

“Daddy, I can’t. I’m too sensitive,” you whined.

“I know you can, baby girl. You’ve been doing so well for me tonight,” he typed in the chat.

“Okay, daddy, only for you,” you said, the notification for a donation popped up on your screen. You could be mean and stop the stream, taking the money and using it to buy yourself a nice dinner, but you desperately wanted him to call you a good girl.

It was worth pushing through the over-stimulation to receive a private message with the words, “Daddy’s so proud of you,” along with an extra $100.

Some men could be kind of gross, but this man, whose name you’d had yet to find out, was so kind to you – just like a daddy should be. It seemed like he genuinely cared. He regularly booked private sessions with you and not only did he give you constant praise and encouragement, he would ask how your day was and listen to you talk about anything your mind conjured up. You tried to apologize to him once for wasting his paid time by talking about your life, but he told you he loved hearing your thoughts almost as much as he loved seeing you cum. You gave him an extra orgasm that night as a thank you.

So, when he messaged you with an interesting proposal, it was even more enticing to you.

“Any chance you’d want to meet up in person? I’d pay 1500, half in advance.”

Holy shit. He could very well be a serial killer, but 1500 dollars would be an entire month's rent. Plus, he was going to pay half in advance. Would a serial killer really pay 750 dollars to score a cute victim? You sure hoped not because you were going to meet that man.

You tried not to be shallow but you worried that he might be ugly. Why else would he be paying for sex? You could technically send the money back and bail out if he turned out to be completely disgusting. The fact that he offered to meet at the Ritz Carlton, and not a Motel 6, was your first clue that he wasn’t a total sleazebag.

He knew your face, but you didn’t know his, so you had to wait anxiously in the lobby for him to arrive. You wore your best dress and put your hair up in cute pigtails with a bow tied onto each one. You arrived on time, and began to worry that the mystery man wasn’t coming. A man—hot, mid-30s, you’d guess—smiled at you from across the lobby and you were instantly hit with a wave of disappointment at the fact that you couldn't flirt with him. You had to wait for your man to arrive.

But then, he started walking towards you. A little flirting couldn’t hurt, right? Especially since the other guy was late. He’d understand that you’re just too cute for other men to resist.

When he was within earshot, he said, “Hey, sweet girl.” It was just a coincidence, you assumed. He surely couldn’t be referencing your username. Or maybe he was another fan, maybe you were getting really popular. It only hit you when he said “Ready to go up to our room?” and flashed you a room key.

“You’re ‘agentdaddy’?” You only knew his screen name, which you came to find out was a reference to his real occupation as a government agent. Agent Leon Kennedy — a nice name, but you’d rather call him ‘Daddy’.

“Do I look different than you expected I would?”

“No offense, but I didn’t think you’d be so… hot.” You must’ve been starry-eyed. You hoped it made you look adorable rather than stupid.

“I’m far from offended that you think I’m attractive. I was worried it was the other way around.” He held out his hand and you took it. He led you towards the elevator.

“I’m just surprised that someone like you is paying for someone like me.” You made sure not to let him know that you’d let him have you for free.

“You’re too cute, baby,” he said, while pinching your cheeks which flushed bright pink at the gesture.

He leaned down and gave you the softest, sweetest kiss when you were in the empty elevator. When the elevator stopped at the floor you were staying on, you held out your palm, asking Leon to take it. He happily walked hand-in-hand with you to your hotel room.

When he opened the door, you barely had time to marvel at the gorgeous room because he was already kissing you, and his lips were so soft you could get lost in the feeling of them against yours. Thinking about what else he could do with his mouth made you feel dizzy. Good thing he was getting ready to pick you up and place you on the king-sized bed.

He drank in the sight of you, not hungry or animalistic—he didn’t want to devour you, he wanted to dote on you, to take his time with you.

Before he took off his jacket and his own shoes, he helped you unbuckle your mary-janes.

He ran his hands up the fabric of your thigh-highs. A brand new pair that you’d worn just for him. “These look so cute on you,” he said.

“Thank you, daddy,” you said in a small voice, both shy and falling further into your little girl headspace.

“Can daddy see what’s under your pretty dress?”

You nodded your head enthusiastically. You picked out a special pair of panties just for him. Baby pink with “I <3 Daddy” on the front in red. He manhandled you, standing you up so he could take off your dress. You lifted your arms up before being asked, knowing he was going to help you pull it over your head. Leon picked you up and laid you down on the bed, stopping to admire you. You watched as pure desire filled his eyes. He almost forgot to hang up your dress because he was so distracted by your barely covered cunt. Your arousal had already created a wet patch in the thin fabric of your panties.

Leon discarded his shirt before getting on his knees. He wanted to tease you further but longed to taste you. He spread your thighs with his big hands and then he ran his thumb across your still-clothed slit. His light touch was tantalizing, making you shiver.

“So pretty for daddy,” he said. “I knew you were beautiful on camera, but you’re even prettier in person. I bet you taste good too.”

All thoughts swiftly exited your brain and all you could say was “daddy”.

“Daddy’s right here, sweet girl.” His fingers played with the waistband of your panties before he asked, “Can daddy take these off?”

“Yes, daddy,” you said.

He gently slipped them off and began to play with your folds, admiring your beauty. “Oh, baby,” he said, “your princess parts are so wet. Have you been waiting for daddy?”

“Yeah,” you said, “Need daddy’s help.”

“Such a good girl for waiting. I bet it was really hard when you were feeling this way.”

You nodded repeatedly, making sure he received your silent confirmation.

Leon’s head dipped between your thighs and you were biting back moans of anticipation. He flattened his tongue and took a languid lick up your folds, stopping at your clit to suck gently, earning more of your slick and an unbridled moan.

You knew you could reach your peak quickly if he continued. You were already fighting the overwhelming urge to buck your hips as you were dying for the feeling of his tongue.

He pulled back all too soon. Your immediate response was a whine, so desperate it almost saddened Leon.

“Shh… baby it’s okay,” he cooed, bringing his hand up to your cheek. “Daddy just wants to take his time with you.” He selfishly needed to taste you first, but he knew he couldn’t neglect the rest of your body. It would be sinful not to worship an angel like you fully.

“Let me go get something to calm you down, okay?”

You agreed, though your eyes were glossy with tears the moment Leon stood up. You assumed the overnight bag he brought held only a toothbrush and an extra pair of clothes, but you were glad to see that he brought you a brand new pacifier.

Your lips parted, almost instinctively to let him slot the pacifier between them. You sucked on the nub contentedly as you allowed Leon to move you so that you were comfortably situated on the bed with your head on the pillow while he loomed over you, getting a perfect view of your gorgeous figure. Each of his hands cupped one of your tits, giving them a gentle squeeze and then taking a moment to play with your nipples. He gave a kiss to each one because good girls with pretty tits deserve kisses.

“You’re such a good girl. Daddy’s gonna kiss you all over now.” As Leon began to kiss down your stomach, making his way towards the parts of you that needed his touch the most, you held out a hand for him to take. He smiled at your adorable gesture and intertwined his fingers with yours while his other hand held onto one of your hips.

“I think your princess parts need the most kisses. Is that right, baby?”

You nodded eagerly and Leon got to work, beginning by pressing his lips to your clit. You were struggling to keep the pacifier in your mouth as the feeling of his tongue lapping at your folds had you holding back moans. His middle finger slipped inside you, followed by his index, and as he curled them upward to meet that sensitive spot, your legs began to shake. You gripped his hand tighter and he stopped the movements of his mouth only momentarily to say, “I know, I know, baby. Just relax for me. Let it happen. Daddy’s gonna be here the whole time.”

When his lips reattached to your clit as he continued to finger you, doubling the pleasure he was giving you, you came – causing the pacifier to fall from your lips, leaving a trail of drool dripping from your mouth. You moaned loudly, chanting “daddy” over and over again, gushing around his fingers. He made sure not to let a single drop of your arousal go to waste, savoring your taste and refusing to pull back until you pushed his head away.

“Too much, Daddy, too much,” you whined.

“Alright, alright, cutie. Daddy will give you a break.”

“No break, no break, daddy.”

“No break? I thought you said it was too much, honey.”

“Need daddy inside,” you pouted. Leon nearly let a groan slip from his mouth.

“Need daddy inside, huh?” He was unable to resist you. “Let me go get something for you first, okay?”

As it turned out, there were more surprises in his bag. He brought you a plushie to hold onto, and you pulled him into a hug, thanking him for the gift.

You held onto the plushie as you watched Leon take off his pants, fully entranced by the sight of his dick.

“Daddy, I don’t think it’s gonna fit.” It was a huge ego boost to Leon, but you truly weren’t sure if you could take him fully inside.

“It’s gonna fit, sweet pea. We’re gonna go slowly.”

Going slowly didn’t stop the intense feeling of being stretched, but Leon showered you in praise as he pressed inside you, one inch at a time.

“Look at you,” he said with a wide grin when you were fully filled by him. He pointed to the slight bulge in your belly where you could see his dick. You were amazed at your own ability to take him so well, and he was too, as confirmed with his next words.

“Daddy’s so proud of you,” he said. It was your favorite sentence to hear from him. The words alone could make you moan.

“We need to be careful not to get a noise complaint,” he said and picked up the pacifier, placing it back in your mouth. Your oral fixation happily obliged.

Leon fucked you slowly, but deeply, making sure that you felt every inch. The tip touched your cervix with every thrust.

It didn’t take long for Leon to say, “You’re gonna make daddy cum, baby. You’re so tight for me, feels so good.” Leon was nearly as lost in the feeling as you were. With the pacifier occupying your mouth, you couldn’t even tell Leon how close you were to the edge, but he was paying attention.

“Gonna cum for daddy?” he asked, needing to make sure that your pleasure came first.

Tears were forming in your waterline as you nodded, and you sobbed as your second orgasm hit you harder than the first. Leon continued to thrust slowly in and out of you as he held back his own impending orgasm. He led you through the aftershocks before pulling out and spilling all over your thighs, marking you the best he could without cumming inside you. He didn’t want to get you pregnant just yet.

“You did so good for me, baby,” he said as he placed a kiss on each cheek. “I think we should clean you up with a bath.”

Leon came prepared for bath time. From his suitcase – aka his bag of gifts for you – he pulled out rubber duckies and a bottle of bubble bath.

He picked you up and carried you bridal style to the bathroom so you wouldn’t have to use your tired legs, standing you in the bathtub, making sure to keep you upright while he wiped down your thighs that were still sticky with his release.

Leon removed you from the bath and sat you down on a towel, so he could run the water, making sure it was the perfect temperature – he had you stick your hand in to test it out before he helped you step into the tub.

You looked at him, confused. “Daddy, you aren’t getting in the bath with me?”

“Baby, the bath is for you. Daddy takes showers. You’re too little for those.”

Confusion turned to betrayal and a tear rolled down your cheek. Leon immediately backtracked. “It’s okay, honey, daddy can get in too if it’ll make his little girl happy.”

You nodded and the tears subsided. Leon swiped his thumbs across your cheeks and gave you a kiss on the forehead as an apology for suggesting you bathe alone. When he climbed in with you, he positioned in his lap, facing away from him so you could have fun with your rubber duckies, though you did end up laying your head on his chest by the end of bath time.

At first, it was difficult for Leon to stop himself from getting hard with your ass rubbing up against him, but he was soon distracted by your attempt at a bubble beard.

“Look daddy,” you said, proud of your work.

You were even happier with yourself after hearing Leon’s praises. “My baby looks pretty even with bubbles all over her face.”

“Gonna give you one, too, daddy,” you beamed before you coated his face in bubbles. It was too late for him to say no, though you were too adorable for him to refuse any offer from you.

Your fingers and toes were beginning to prune by the time you laid your cheek to Leon’s chest, and you were clearly ready for bed. Leon stepped out of the tub first so that he could be ready to wrap you in a towel the moment you got out. He wouldn’t want his baby to be cold for a second.

“Pajamas?” he asked when he carried you to bed.

“No, wanna be naked with daddy.”

Leon was more than happy to oblige with that request.

“We better get under the covers, then. Don’t wanna get cold, do we?”

You agreed, knowing that daddy was right. Lying skin to skin with Leon kept you warm through the night – so warm you almost missed your checkout time.

“Maybe we should just stay for an extra night, baby,” Leon said, leaning in for your first kiss of the day.

“Really?” You were more than pleased with his idea.

“Uh-huh,” he said, “I think daddy needs some more time playing with baby today.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “need to play with daddy.”

You were lucky you were still naked from the night before, so there was no hassle of getting undressed. Leon was willing to pay double for another day with you, but when his lips met yours, you forgot about all payment. Your number one supporter deserved a freebie, you decided.

#leon s kennedy #leon kennedy #leon kennedy smut #leon kennedy x reader #leon s kennedy smut #leon s kennedy x reader

384 notes · View notes

nthspecialll · 4 months ago

Text

Something I love about Red Dead is the depths of the characters.

Yes, Arthur Morgan is a murderer, a man who beat another to death for ten bucks, who stole from banks and who helped kill about half the law in one town, he is known for brutality and doing any dirty work he is ordered to do, but he is also a father, a man who went out of his way to spend time with a son he didn't even plan to have and whom it would be easier to leave. He is a man who ran with letters between star-crossed lovers and helped them escape. He is a man who helped an archeologist gather dino bones and a monk free slaves.

Yes, Hosea Matthews is a scam artist, he is the leader of a wild and brutal gang, he planned countless schemes, he murdered a man and laughed about it but he is also a teacher. He taught orphan kids how to ride, how to shoot, how to read and write and how to care for themselves in a world that had betrayed them. He is an adviser people around him trust to be honest and to help them along the way.

Yes John Marston is a killer, he killed as early as twelve years old, he was ruined from the start, he beats people for information, he murders with no thought, rustles horses, robs trains and gets those uncooperative smacked, but he is also a man who gave medicine to a girl in the desert who wanted to be closer to god. He gathered flowers for an old man and his wife. He ran into a burning stable to save animals, risking his own life.

Yes, they were all men wanted by the law, shunned by the world, but in their own society they were cared for, they were appreciated and relied on, they were worth something. They were more than the crimes written on paper, were they good people? No, but they could definitely have been worse.

#rdr2 #rdr2 community #red dead redemption 2 #arthur morgan #rdr2 arthur #red dead redemption community #john marston #red dead redemption two #rdr john #red dead fandom #rdr2 hosea #hosea matthews #nthspecialll

243 notes · View notes

i-am-hungry-24-7 · 7 months ago

Note

💥slams into your room like a ragoll

Some fluff idea for you, with Simon

Simon, who loved discovering new things about you, whether it was the way your eyes crinkled more than other smiles when you were super excited to share something, something you'd hyperfixate on for the next four months or so, or the way your giggles gave you away before you could even tell him the story.

So how about writing this, he leans about the lil nose scrunches you do when he kisses the tip of your nose today…and he starts kissing more all over your face just to find out what else you do at certain places he kiss, sending you into a giggling blushing mess :3

- ya not so suspicious panda 🐼

you better repair my door u evil panda

A whole bag of sugar’s been added into this drabble

Simon Exploring Your Cute Reactions

Simon’s in love with your little reactions, hence discovering new things from you is his daily mission.

Like how you accidentally added salt instead of sugar into your tea yesterday, and stuck your tongue out when the unexpected saltiness hit you.

or how you yelled out his name in a hurried tone, and as he rushed to check if you were alright, it was just you showing him the flower you tried to grow finally had a little bud after countless times of failure.

He sometimes wonders why you have so many different expressions, but he sees this part of you as a treasure chest, providing sparkles of anticipation to his life.

Now Simon sits on the couch, with you sitting on his lap, reading the ‘For Plant Killers: how to keep a plant without needing a brain’ book. He looks at you burying your face in the pages with a serious frown, the urge to kiss you is too difficult for him to resist.

“Oh!” You let out a little squeak as you raise your head from the book, eyes wide with curiosity, like a surprised bunny, his mind notes it as he plants another kiss on the tip of your nose.

“Hey, what you doing?” Your little nose scrunches at the touch, triggering his enjoyment with how cute you’re doing it.

Simon just shakes his head, and continues exploring.

Another kiss lands on your eyelid this time, your feather-like eyelashes flutter as you giggle at the itchy feeling.

“Stop you silly man, what are you doing?” You catch his cheeks between your palms after he gives your temple a kiss that lasts longer.

You’re a blushing mess right now, face inches from his, so he’s able to take a good look at the pink smears across your face, making you more vivid and splendid.

“Researching.” He shrugs.

“Well, now’s my time to do some research.”

The chuckles are unstoppable as you start your revenge, from the brushing of your lips at his jawline, a open mouth kiss on his face, to the light pecks at his freckles.

“Not so composed now, huh?” A devious grin plays on your glossy lips when you take a rest from your attacks, looking at him with joy-glinting eyes.

He knows his face is red like an apple now, he can sense the heat gathering at his cheeks, but in front of you, there’s no need to hide his true emotions. Not to mention, he’s on the cusp of victory, since the ace card for this cheeky game of you two is between his fingers.

“Do you remember to water your plant today?”

“oh shit!” Realization strikes you like lightning. You jump off his lap, leaving Simon a glimpse of your hasty figure as you disappear behind the corner.

Tons of discoveries today, he licks his chops while taking a sip from the lukewarm tea.

What will he find tomorrow? He leans back and taps unconsciously at your book. You’re like a mystery bag, he doesn’t think he’s able to guess what’s inside, but hey, your priceless demeanors are worth spending time exploring, and he’s already looking forward to tomorrow’s investigation.

#cod imagine #simon riley x you #simon riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley imagine #cod x reader #cod x you #ghost x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon 'ghost' riley x reader #simon ghost riley x reader #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost riley fluff

364 notes · View notes

bunnys-kisses · 7 months ago

Text

it came to me on a sunny day - dad!simon - inspired by the song 'my girl' by the temptations

maybe i'll make this a whole fic? idk... lemme know <3

telling simon you were pregnant was nothing but a shock. but it was inevitable. you two weren't the best when it came to protection, so one night of passion led to the conception of your daughter.

you mostly wore simon's jacket due to you being pregnant most of the winter. you kept telling yourself that you'd get a jacket to accommodate the growing bump, but by the time you got around to it, simon's sweatshirts kept you warm enough. even though simon still put a hat on you every time you left the flat.

simon just loved the swell of your belly, he always smiled when he felt the movement of your daughter. he would lie on the couch, legs dangled off the edge in an uncomfortable manner to be closer to your belly.

if you both weren't so worried about protecting simon's identity, you would've put him online to tout him as 'father of the year'. in your second trimester you did get married at the court house. it was an informal affair, something to put on paper. he promised that the two of you could have the whole celebration after the baby was born.

"simon." you said, "watching johnny choke on a fry that kyle threw into his mouth after the ceremony is worth more than some stupid party." you then leaned over to kiss him, your ring felt comfortable on your finger.

however as you entered your third trimester and your fingers became swollen, you had you wear your ring around your neck on a chain. when you felt about it, simon simply said, "chain's closer to your heart."

when summer came your little rosemary was born. she was born in the end of june, your friend remarked that she was a cancer sign. simon was there the whole way, even when you punched him when a particular hard contraction hit.

"i'm gonna kill you, simon." while that wasn't the first time he ever heard that phrase, it was the only time it ever made a shiver run down his spine. but he was your rock the entire way, the full ten hours it took to delivery rosemary riley.

she came out screamin' though, a far cry from the silent nature of her father. you had never seen simon cry too many times, but the first time he held the pudgy newborn, you could see him hold back the tears.

"simon."

"yeah?" his gaze didn't leave his daughter.

you patted him on the arm, "you can cry, no one's going to judge you." you knew he always felt like he had to be the protector of his little family. but when you leaned over, exhausted yourself, and kissed him on the cheek. the emotion flooded out of him.

you were parents now.

simon took to being a father really well, despite his nervousness (that he never showed on his face) to end up like his own father. he realized that it was a lot easier to be good parent than he thought.

"i love you both." he often said to you, "thank you."

he said that you gave him a second chance at life. after everything, the pain that caused him to shut down and become a killer for the military. you and rosemary allowed the coldness to turn warm. while he still was intimidating outside the home, in the safety of where you lived, he was able to be the caring parent he was denied growing up.

"rose." he said in his low voice, "where are ya goin'." then picked up the toddler with ease so she didn't topple the television on top of her, "you can see it just fine over here." then carried her back to the couch.

you both did your best to not raise an ipad baby, rather you made good use of the second hand printer you had and let you colour and draw to her hearts content. and books. so many books.

"that's a bear, rose." you said as you pointed to the drawing in the book you were reading to her before bed, "b-e-a-r."

"B!Ear!" she chirped as she kicked out her little legs under the covers. she was a very smart girl.

she gets it from me, simon said jokingly.

of course he often let his little rosemary colour in his tattoos with washable markers while they're sitting outside on a nice summer's day a year or two down the line. the little girl is still getting used to holding markers and colours outside the lines of the tattoos. but simon finds it endearing.

nothin' is gonna hurt his girls.

"honey." you said.

"yes?"

"i think we're giving rose a sibling a lot sooner than we expected." <3

(i wanted to write something tender on this beautiful spring day. if it's sunny where you are today soak in the rays!)

#bunny speaks #call of duty #call of duty modern warfare #reader insert #simon ghost riley #ghost call of duty #call of duty x reader #simon ghost riley fanfiction #simon ghost #simon ghost x reader #simon ghost fluff #dad!ghost #dad!simon riley #dad!simon ghost riley

307 notes · View notes

extra-stout-stories · 2 months ago

Text

First Date / Creepy Cookies

When a BHM in Florida decides to take the plunge on a long-distance relationship with a witchy SSBBW FFA in New England, their first IRL encounter goes even better than he expected. (BHM to USSBHM, magical rapid weight gain, SSBBW feeder. Romantic, but spicy and mildly explicit. Lots of sexy descriptions of food. CW: Immobility, mobility aids.)

My first contribution to Feedist Kinktober '24! Reblog if you like it, and thanks as always to the mighty @fatguarddog for blessing us with an inspirational list of prompts. Last year I bit off more than I could chew and ended up with a folder of half-finished story ideas, so this year I'm only writing the ones where I feel inspired enough to knock a full story out in one go. Here's a sexy supernatural mutual gaining tale.

His belly hang bounced against the steering wheel as he stepped with a grunt out of the rental car. A compact car wasn't exactly comfortable for a guy his size, but it was a chance to save a little bit of money on the trip. If this works out it's going to be expensive, he thought to himself. Long distance sucks.

He adjusted his jacket against the October breeze. New England was a lot different from Florida. He wasn't sure how he felt about the possibility of moving to somewhere he'd have to shovel snow in the winters, but he had to admit that at this time of year, the yellows and crimsons of the autumn foliage were beautiful like nothing he had ever seen.

And his date was like nobody he had ever met. It would be their first time meeting in person.

Dating as a 320 pound man was difficult enough, dating as a 320 pound man with a feeding fetish was more difficult still, and dating as a mutual gainer felt like the hardest thing of all. He was grateful that his last serious relationship had ended amicably; she was a Miami Beach gym bunny who loved the way her toned, tan body contrasted with his, and she had helped him break through a plateau at 300, but she grew increasingly frustrated that he couldn't reciprocate her attraction to him. Fortunately, they had managed to part without drama and stay friends, and he was happy to watch her pair off with a guy close to his size who was a much better fit for her. There was a text from her waiting when his plane touched down in Boston: "Good luck on your New England date! If she turns out to be a serial killer, text me and I'll come rescue you, k?"

But he wasn't too worried about that. Mostly he was worried that he wouldn't be as fat in person as his date expected. He was fat, of course, but he was also good at using camera angles to highlight his big belly and doughy double chin, making him look like a bigger SSBHM than he really was. And a part of him worried that the date would go too well. Plane tickets and a rental car weren't cheap, flying at his size was cramped and uncomfortable, and the drive north from Boston added another two and a half hours onto the trip. If things worked out, it wasn't going to be much fun trying to make a long-distance relationship work.

Still, it's worth a try. Nothing worth having in life comes easily. That's what he told himself as he took one last look at the scenery, the golden autumn colors mingling with evergreens this far north, the peak of Mount Washington in the distance already dusted with a layer of snow.

The Waterwheel Brewery was an old brick building at the edge of a ravine where a cold, clear waterfall splashed and foamed down a crack in the mountain granite. The rusty iron wheel that gave the brewpub its name was still there at the side of the ravine, a nineteenth century relic from a time when the building had been some kind of textile mill during the early years of America's industrial revolution. But that was a long time ago, and now the small factory town in the mountains was a self-consciously quaint destination catering to hikers, skiiers and leaf-peepers from Boston and New York City. The buildings on its main street had been transformed into upscale shops and farm-to-table restaurants, and the nineteenth century mill owner's stately Victorian mansion had been renovated as an expensive bed and breakfast. He had suggested to her that he book a room there for the night of their first date, but she had vetoed the idea. The Wilkes House is a tourist trap, she had messaged back. If dinner goes well, you'll stay at my place. She was nothing if not forward. He liked that about her.

Nervously, he entered the brewpub.

It was a busy Friday night. Middle-aged yuppies in fleece vests and college-aged hippies in hiking gear were clinking glasses. People really are skinnier up North, he thought to himself. It must be lonely being her size in a town like this. The Florida coast was full of tanned and toned beach bodies, of course, so he understood the struggle. Still, even in Florida, the South had its share of fat folks.

And he wasn't nearly as fat as she was.

Then a little voice in his mind seemed to whisper: Yet.

He shivered, his nervousness suddenly replaced by excitement. Don't get too far ahead of yourself, he thought. This is just a first date. She's cool online but you need to know if you vibe in person before you let her feed you for real. He glanced around the brewpub. When his eyes landed on her, there was no mistaking the woman he had come all this way to meet.

She was seated at the corner of the brewpub, on banquette seating behind a movable table. She seemed as wide as the table, fat shoulders in a loose white cardigan seeming to flow like lava into her breasts and belly rolls in a snug red cotton dress. An elegant antique necklace, a chunky Victorian brooch on a thick silver chain, drew his attention irresistably to her cleavage, then to the triple chins that seemed to rest directly on her chest and shoulders, her neck gone entirely, the chain disappearing beneath soft, pale folds. His attention wandered up her face just as she registered his presence and their eyes met. Her eyes seemed to flash with anticipation behind a pair of vintage eyeglass frames whose red matched the dress. Her fat cheeks dimpled as she smiled. Her chins quivered.

She was fatter in person.

Dinner went as well as he could have imagined. She was as clever as she was fat, a quick-witted conversationalist with a bright laugh and a keen sense of humor. They had spent so much time messaging back and forth that he already felt like he knew her, but she was even more charming in person. She had an endless supply of funny anecdotes from her job as an instructional librarian at the liberal arts college outside of town, the kind of school where rich kids spent four years as ski bums cultivating their weed habits. It wasn't where she had planned to end up, but her Ph.D. in anthropology from Miskatonic hadn't led to a tenure-track job, and she had grown to love the quiet beauty of the little mountain town.

The brewpub owners were graduates of the college, and the waitstaff all seemed to know her. They weren't fazed when she asked to see the menu for a second round of entrees, and while neither of them wanted to drink too much -- it would be another twenty minutes' drive up windy roads to her mountainside cottage, and besides, it was a first date -- the waitstaff were more than happy to pour small samples of the microbrews that the pub brewed on site. He told a few tall tales about life in Florida, exaggerating for dramatic effect. She knew he didn't really have to fend off wild alligator attacks on his way to work, of course, and she gave him a little coquettish smirk when he admitted: "…and besides, I'm too fat to outrun an alligator anyway."

It was all he could have asked for on a first date.

Still, it was hard to keep his mind from wandering to more primal urges, especially when she shrugged off the cardigan and he got a glimpse of her pillowy upper arms, as wide around as some people's waists, spilling like rolls of dough over her elbows, swaying irresistably every time she raised a fork or a glass to her mouth. Cool it, he told himself, biting his lower lip. This is a date, not a hookup. We're here to get to know each other, not just fuck. But the more he watched her stuff herself with gusto, polishing off a steak followed by a lobster roll and a series of appetizers that just seemed to keep coming, the more he found himself imagining what the mountainous rolls of her naked belly might look like beneath that red dress, how wide and soft her naked hips and ass would be when he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed her fat body against his.

"Distracted? They asked what you wanted for dessert." He blushed, suddenly realizing how far he had lost himself in the reverie. She gave him a wry smirk. "The bread pudding's good here. Get it with caramel."

The waitress looked at her, then at him, and didn't bother to ask him for confirmation. Soon he was tucking into the bread pudding. But by now, he thought to himself, the bill couldn't come soon enough.

He felt suddenly protective of her as she stood up from the table, reaching to steady herself on a stainless steel bariatric cane, face slightly flushed and breath slightly ragged from the effort of lifting her enormous body. He helped her slip the cardigan back on, and as he helped her navigate around the tables to the entrance of the brewpub, he found himself putting a hand on the small of her back to guide her, feeling her back rolls ripple with each step. She's really big, he thought to himself. But it wasn't his first time with an SSBBW, and he knew how to pace himself and help her feel comfortable, glancing and gesturing to signal to the other diners that they should pull their chairs in for a moment to clear a path. He caught one or two hostile stares from skinny couples eating salads, but when he glared back -- it helped that he was tall and stocky, muscular underneath his fat -- they looked away in embarrassment.

She smiled up at him as they reached the rental car. She was a few inches shorter than him, and the difference in height put just how fat she was into even sharper relief. "Think you can make it up the mountain?"

He laughed. "As long as you don't ask me to hike. That's what the car is for." He wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her in close for a kiss, the fabric of his shirt whispering against the fabric of her dress as their bellies touched, a peck on the lips leading to a momentary touching of tongues before she withdrew.

"Good. Make sure you turn right at the covered bridge. Otherwise you'll end up in moose territory. They're even faster than alligators."

"Got it. I'll see you in a little bit." He smiled and lowered himself with a grunt into the rental car. Damn, he thought, exhaling suddenly as his belly hit the steering wheel and he reached down to scoot the seat back a little further. I'm really full.

Only the knowledge of how easy it would be to get lost in these woods on a wrong turn, and the thought that a tourist town like this would be full of speed traps, kept him from rushing even faster than he did up the road to her secluded cottage.

She had just gotten out of her own car when he pulled up, steadying herself on the cane as she reached into her purse for her keys. The cottage was picture-postcard cute, wood and stone, built (she had told him at dinner) by some now-forgotten artist who had moved up from Manhattan in the Fifties to get closer to nature. As the door swung open she saw that she'd had it fitted out with energy-efficient modern luxuries and rearranged to make space for her ample body, the open floor plan giving it a feeling that was simultaneously spacious and cozy. Through a wide picture window he could see the lights of the town and the college flickering down in the valley; he thought he could just barely make out the silhouette of the brewpub.

But what really enticed him was the smell of fresh cooking. She must have spent all day baking, he thought to himself. There were savory breads and sugary sweets, pies, cakes and turnovers, all mingling with the aroma of beef stew bubbling in a slow cooker and the scent of cinnamon from an enormous apple crumble.

He watched her enormous ass and thighs quiver as she slowly walked to the kitchen. All of a sudden all he could think about was sex.

She turned back to look at him, the folds of her chins quivering, her cheeks dimpling in that irresistable smile as she winked at him through her vintage glasses. "Hungry?"

He exhaled and patted his belly. It had been a lot of food at dinner.

He looked at her. She looked at him.

He smiled back.

"I could use a little something. That was a long trip up the mountain."

"Good boy." She ladled some beef stew into a dish, then reached to slip on an oven mitt and open the oven. He couldn't keep his eyes off of how her ass and back rolls jiggled as she bent slightly to reach past her belly, her breath quickening with the effort. She drew out a thick loaf of bread and cracked it open. Inside, it was still steaming.

Turning to face him, she locked eyes with him and smiled, setting half the loaf down and reaching for a knife and butter. Slowly, sensually, she buttered the bread. He watched the glistening fresh butter seep into the thick, soft dough. He watched her arms jiggle, her chins quiver, her belly ripple.

She dipped the bread in the beef stew and took a small nibble. "Try dipping it." She grinned and handed him the dish. "Go sit on the couch. I'll bring some desserts, too."

She rolled her own dish of beef stew in on a cart, accompanied by pumpkin pie, apple crumble, and a large tub of ice cream. She sat down next to him and began to eat. By the time they finished, he felt so full he could barely breathe.

Her belly seemed to engulf him as she rolled over to straddle him on the couch, slipping her arms around his shoulders and pinning him down with her bulk. He pulled her closer and slipped his tongue into her mouth. Soon she was unbuttoning his shirt.

They were naked by the time they headed to the bedroom. She had been teasing him underneath his belly, giving quick, eager strokes, first with the tips of her fat fingers and then with the tip of her tongue. But he gave as good as he got, his own fingers deftly exploring the sensitive undersides of her rolls, sinking in a fraction of an inch further every time he plunged them into the warmth where her thighs and belly met.

By now he was so motivated by desire that he barely bothered to glance around the living room as she led him to bed. If he noticed the shelves of books, the replica statues of paleolithic goddess figures acquired during her anthropology research, it was only as background decoration.

His eyes passed over it, but he didn't really see the altar. A circle of red candles, designs painted in luminous white on dark black velvet, a small stone figurine, this one not a replica. Fresh fruit and grain placed as an offering. Slices of each of the baked desserts she had made, another offering.

And by now he was so full of dessert that he really couldn't take any more. If his eyes glanced briefly over the plate of cookies at the center of the circle of candles, he would have registered them only as one more item in the blur of sweet tastes and textures, of a piece with the pies and the brownies and the turnover soaked in ice cream. He was so full.

He certainly wouldn't have thought to ask her why the cookies were still steaming as if freshly baked, even though they had been making out for over an hour and he hadn't seen her take them from the oven.

She guided him to her bedroom tenderly, but when she shoved him the last step into bed she was almost rough, her own lust evident now, her face flushed as she took off her glasses and unpinned her hair, long locks falling down past her breasts and the enormous rolls of her belly, moving slowly but deliberately, fat flesh pressing against fat flesh as she curled up next to him in bed and pulled him in for another kiss.

The sex was even better than he had fantasized. Both of them were crackling with lust, burning with desire, as if lightning was passing back forth through their skin everywhere their bodies touched.

There's nothing like the sensation of fat on fat.

He was dozing off to sleep, his arm wrapped around her shoulders, when he felt her stand up from the bed. He heard the clunk of her bariatric cane as she left the bedroom. After all the excitement, he was too sleepy to do much more than grunt.

"Still hungry, babe?"

He groaned. At any other time, those words from her lips would have been the most enticing come-on he had ever heard. But the plane flight and the drive had taken a lot out of him, the sex had drained the last of his energy, and he was still full.

"C'mon. Just a few bites." She was back at the bedside, lifting a cookie to his lips.

"Mmmph." The warm, fresh dough. The gooey chocolate. He let her feed him the entire cookie, then another, then another. Barely awake, his eyes closed, his inner eye was already seeing half-formed dream shapes.

"Good boy." She traced her hand across his belly. So full, so achingly full. This was the best night of his life.

"Just one more bite. You have to eat the whole plate." She watched him swallow the last of the cookie, reached across his chest to pinch a few stray crumbs between her fat fingers, stuck her fingers between his lips so he could lick them off.

He leaned his head back onto the pillow and was immediately asleep.

His dreams were as much sensations as visions. Sensations of warmth, softness. Heaviness. Candles and torchlight illuminating his body. Eating, eating, always eating. Heavy, so heavy. His belly swelling.

She was there, or was it one of the goddess figurines? Looming over him, lustful and loving. Hungry for him, hungry to feed him. The goddess was vastly bigger than him, impossibly bigger, filling the bedroom, filling a torchlit cave, filling the night sky until her rolls of fat obscured the stars.

But he was big too, so big. And getting bigger.

Gradually the sensations ended. The visions ended. He sunk into a deep, deep sleep with no more dreams.

It was a bright New England autumn morning. He could see clear blue sky and a riot of fall colors, the town in the valley below framed perfectly in the picture window of the bedroom.

He was hungry. He didn't want to get up. Surely she had left some food in the bedroom.

Yes. A blueberry pie. Fresh. He was suddenly aware that he was alone in bed. From the kitchen, he could hear the clatter of dishes and the thud of her cane.

He was suddenly seized by the urge to devour the pie with his bare hands. He was hungrier than he ever thought possible. He reached for it, and --

His arm was heavy. So heavy. Just lifting it was an effort. Rolls of fat cascading, heavy as gym weights, his arms never reaching quite so far that the spilling softness of his upper arms didn't still touch the equally soft and heavy rolls of his naked chest and belly.

My belly. He looked down. He could barely see past his moobs, and he couldn't see past his belly at all. He felt it against his --

Against his calves. His belly had become enormous.

He looked down. He reached, or tried to. He was as wide as the bed, his fat arms splayed wide against side rolls that were just an inch or two short of spilling over the sides.

He wriggled his hips, or tried to. He felt hundreds of pounds of fat -- how many pounds? -- quiver in soft ripples.

He didn't even bother trying to stand up.

He felt the rolls of his chins against his chest, the rolls of his chest against his belly, the rolls of his belly against his thighs. He felt his thighs meet to well past his knees.

He even felt his overstuffed fat toes.

And suddenly there was a hardness under all that softness. He gasped sharply, drawing in a deep breath, feeling himself quake with excitement. Feebly, he tried to buck his hips against his belly, full of desire now.

She was standing in the bedroom door, holding a cup of coffee in one hand and a plate of pastries in the other.

"Hungry?"

She grinned at him.

He could barely speak. "W-what happ…"

She wore nothing but a silk robe, open at the waist. Slowly, sashaying her enormous hips to make her massive belly sway from side to side, she waddled towards him and seated herself as best she could at the edge of the bed. She traced her fingertips down his belly.

"Magic. Don't ask too many questions. Do you want the croissants first, or the pie?"

"The pie." At least he had a ready answer to that one.

"Good boy." She began lifting forkfuls of the warm, fresh blueberry pie to his greedy lips. She stroked his hair and gave a mock pout. "I'm not sure you're going to fit on the plane back to Florida."

"Not unless it's a cargo plane." He smiled. "You didn't have to do this, you know. I would have stayed anyway."

Her mock pout deepened. "But it's so fun this way! You should have seen the look on your face when you woke up." She gave his belly a playful shove. "And I had to know you weren't one of those feedee fuckboys. Lots of guys online talk a big game but won't commit."

He lifted an arm as best he could to squeeze her thigh. "Come on. You knew I was serious."

"Mmmhmm." She leaned across him, her belly spreading over his. She was the skinny one now. "But I'm even more serious."

"Is that so?" He polished off the last bite of the pie, then let his voice get a little fierce. "More food. Now."

She blushed and giggled. "Okay, you're serious. That's what I like to see."

"I know it is." He sighed with contentment, wriggled his hips to get a little bit more comfortable, and let her lift the first of many chocolate-stuffed croissants to his lips. "Am I going to stay like this?"

She smiled. "Only if you want to. The spell is reversible." She paused, a smirk on her face. "But I think you want to."

"You're right. How do you know me so well?"

He smiled. Then he pulled her in for a kiss, grunting with the effort, the softness of his upper arm sliding against her naked back rolls.

An afternoon of eating. An evening of sex. A day passed. Maybe two or three.

He heard his phone vibrate, somewhere in the pile of clothes that were now much, much too small for him. "Could you pass me that?"

She stood up off the bed and reached down to pick up the phone, moving slowly. Slowly due to her bulk, slowly because she knew his mouth was watering at the sight of her enormous body in motion. She placed the vibrating phone on his belly, then left for the kitchen.

It was a text from his friend in Miami Beach. "You doing okay up there? Should I call the cops?"

He smiled. His fingers were so fat that it took him a minute to correct all the typos, but he texted back. "Even better than I hoped."

A moment later, the reply arrived. "That's great. Anything you need?"

He glanced over his gigantic belly at the stupendously fat woman who stood in the bedroom door, carrying a tray of fresh blueberry pancakes glistening with maple syrup. Through the door he could see into the living room, where an empty plate sat on an altar surrounded by the stubs of red candles. "Yeah. If I Venmo you the money, could you hire some movers to box my stuff up and send it here? I'm planning on staying in New England for a while."

He put the phone down and opened his mouth to take his first bite of the pancakes.

#feedist kinktober #mutual gaining #weight gain fiction #wg fiction #feedist fiction #mutual feeding #mutual gain #mutual gain fiction #mutual gainer #fat ffa #fat feeder #gaining weight on purpose #getting fat on purpose #spot the shout-outs to some classic New England horror writers

100 notes · View notes

wyllaztopia · 7 months ago

Note

You mentioned that if we know Denji’s characterization of Killer and Killer’s original backstory that we should understand why he’s so touch starved and has such a messed up definition of love. Is there any way you could tell me who Denji is?? I’m very curious now lol

Denji is a character from Chainsaw Man. I recommend you read the manga or watch the anime - though just the anime alone won't grasp the inspiration I derived from the character into Killer.

I also took inspiration from Gojo Satoru (Jujutsu Kaisen) but more so from his younger self more than the present Gojo.

(These are just drawn for the sake of meme-ing, not actually AG Killer's design)

Further down is explanation and slight spoilers. I don't talk much about it since I want most information to be a slow burn reveal for the characters, as if the audience is getting to know the AGDT cast in real time. (I am a sucker for narratives where it keeps you wanting to psycho-analyze a character rather than revealing everything upfront.)

Starting off with Denji, he's a teen boy who suffered through poverty and taken advantage of for labor just because he's willing to do anything just to get by in life. He's a boy who will do anything to live a normal teen life without having to worry about if he'll die from starvation. Along the story of CSM, he's been treated poorly due to how easily he can be manipulated - he literally has no idea of his own rights as a person. He's also very emotionally unaware because he's lived all alone his life except for a friendly devil named Pochita, who gave his heart to Denji so he can live and become chainsaw man to protect himself. Again, this is just a rough summary I made of Denji's character and I can't exactly explain it here! I recommend watching character analysis video that can further explain him or- you can also check at the original source (manga or anime) yourself which I believe will be worth it since CSM is such a good story.

In AGDT, I suppose you can consider Chara as Killer's Pochita, but in a more unhealthy / partners in crime way. I'll leave that up for the future to explore since at the moment, that's not what I want AGDT to focus on.

As for young Gojo, he's also complicated. He believes himself to be invincible and he can rub off as cocky most of the time. In the story, he holds no compassion or positive feelings for people who are weak - which is essentially everyone for him since he views himself as the strongest. This changed for a while when he was tasked to protect someone - he grew fond of them. However, later on this care disappeared when he perfected a technique - his feeling of pride for himself was stronger than his care for the person he was meant to protect. Gojo is usually nonchalant and playful, also emotionally unaware most of the time as he only thinks about himself (and a fellow 'strongest one' ahem, Geto but that's something I'll ramble for another day). However, he does go absolutely crazy when he's in intense fights since he's absolutely determined to win out of pride.

I would love to talk about what else Killer takes from Gojo but I'd feel like I'd be spoiling everything so I'll leave it for another time to talk about or explore.

There's other medias I took inspiration from for other parts of AG Killer but again, it's a subject to navigate around another time.

I hope this gave some insight on how this variant of Killer is and I hope you enjoyed reading through it!

#lore dump #my artwork #csm denji #jjk gojo #agdt killer #ardent gospel #ag dreamtale #agdt #killer sans #ask

273 notes · View notes

luveline · 2 years ago

Note

hi jade <3 was wondering if you’d write smth about bau reader getting injured or smth and hotch being all over her in the hospital:)

hope this is okay baby! ♥︎ fem!bau!reader tw car accident injuries

You wake up to Hotch kissing the back of your hand. You know it's him, but you're desperate to be funny.

"Spence, I don't think we're at this point in our friendship," you mumble lethargically.

Hotch doesn't laugh. You frown and open your eyes slowly, so slowly it feels as though your eyelashes are coming apart one at a time. You blink against the burning ache of the white walls, floors, and curtains surrounding you. Even the window broadcasts the snow-heavy branches of a pine tree.

Hotch is sitting ramrod straight in a vinyl chair beside your bed. You wonder why he's so low down, before realising you're high up. Your hospital bed is elevated.

"What's wrong?" you ask in concern.

He looks like he hasn't slept properly for a long time, his under eyes puffy and his face more stubbly than you're used to.

Hotch stands up from his chair, your hand still held delicately in his, and kisses your cheek. He rests his forehead against the kiss print a second later, sighing from the very depth of his chest.

"You have a broken collar bone," he says quietly. "That's what's wrong."

"With you, I mean."

"It's the same answer." He squeezes your hand and pulls away. "You also had a bad concussion, but that shouldn't be bothering you anymore. Tell me if it is."

"I… crashed the SUV."

"You did."

"Did I go through the windshield?"

Hotch's hand slides up your arm, from wrist to elbow to upper arm. His thumb rubs the soft fat there sweetly. "No. You hit the steering wheel very hard."

"And you got the unsub?"

"We got the unsub."

You know what Hotch is thinking. He wants to ask you, maybe tell you, to never take a risk like that again. That your life is worth more than catching an unsub. But sometimes it doesn't feel true — you'll take the concussion and the broken collarbone ten times over if it means you can catch a child killer. And plus, you can't remember any of it. Thank you, brain.

"How many days?" am I missing?

He stands up tall. "Only two. You're lucky, they gave you the good stuff."

You try to hug him and gasp — your arm doesn't want to move, and when you force it the pain slices through. "Can't be that good," you gasp, looking down at yourself. Your left arm is in a sling that leaves little room for grabbing him.

"Your collarbone is still broken," he says.

You burst out laughing and it stings with every jostle of your shoulder. His deadpan delivery has the power to make you laugh no matter the circumstance, including your awful dry mouth and your aching collar.

"Don't move around," he pleads.

You tip your head away from him. "Will you hug me?"

Thank earth that even Hotch knows when professionalism is out the window. He eases your shoulders forward to slide his arm between you and the bed, cautious not to hurt you but hugging startlingly tight at the same time.

"Sorry if I smell bad," you murmur.

He rubs his cheek against your ear, says, with true humour this time, "They've been giving you sponge baths."

"That is so embarrassing."

He dips back to kiss your cheek. You lose count of them, and you savour each one. Who needs morphine?

#aaron hotchner fluff #aaron hotchner x fem!reader #aaron hotchner x reader #aaron hotchner fanfiction #aaron hotchner fic #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner fanfic

1K notes · View notes

milliesfishes · 4 months ago

Text

꣑ৎ౨ৎDestiny's Dead꣑ৎ౨ৎ

[fem reader] contains: grief, mentions of death, copious amounts of angst summary: you think billy's been killed pairing: billy the kid x fem reader author’s note: wish I could tag ordinary things anon; if you see this thank you for the ask and I love you for trusting me with your vision I very hope I did it justice <3 Pinterest Board Spotify Playlist

"As long as you're in this world, darlin', I've gotta reason to stay in it."

Billy had whispered that in your hair one night when he thought you were asleep. You carried that with you since you heard it, surprised when it remained intact when your waking mind took form. Maybe you were meant to hear it.

This knowledge became more important to you every day, as wanted posters with your man's face crudely drawn on them started to crop up all over town. You felt your heart crumble a little every time you saw one, evidence of how the world saw the man you loved.

To them he was a killer. To you he represented love. Safety. Two things you hadn't had the luxury of keeping before. Your life was divided into two parts. Before Billy and During. You desperately prayed there wouldn't be an After.

When he met you, you were a closed off, timid thing who didn't have a word for anybody. Your past was your future in your mind. Once Billy got wind of your mindset, he worked with all his might to change it.

He gathered you up and put you back together, kissing each piece as he set it back into place. And you adored him for it. In time, his kisses were returned with equal fervor, and his touches were met with your own. He was your gravity, the center of your whole world. You hadn't had a world before Billy. He built it up and stood to the side, letting you decide where to go, only to find you running back into his arms.

You had long disdained love, thought it, in your case, a feckless fantasy that served no real purpose. It was a hard thing to come by in your upbringing- something that was dangled just out of your reach like some kind of trick to keep you running. Until one day when you'd had enough and simply turned your back, the taunt no longer effective.

Then Billy stumbled into your life. He reinvented you, brought out a side you hadn't known to exist. You gave him every one of your firsts willingly, presented on both knees. And he didn't take that lightly, keeping each one close to his heart and trying to make it all special for you. It was because it was him. He didn't take your breath away, he taught you how to breathe.

Billy hugged you tight, called you 'baby' and kissed you tenderly. He never spoke of a future without you, never uttered a word or did anything that suggested he wouldn't protect you. Because he was aware of the world being his girl thrust you into. You loved him all the more for knowing.

Now, a year later, you were steady. Content seemed too plain a word for how you felt. It was bliss, having a person in this world who was yours to love the way you pleased.

Though as of late things had been a little more complicated. Billy only came to see you under the guise of darkness, not wanting his bloody reputation as of late to stain the clean white of yours. You were grateful for any time with him, opening your arms and bed both to him as a respite from the mounting tensions in his life.

"You're the only thing worth stickin' around for," he breathed one day as he held you tight, your bodies bare and swaddled in the sheets of your bed. Billy kissed your forehead tenderly, letting his lips linger there. "My sweetheart...you're the purest thing I ever loved."

His words held a touch of melancholy that you chose to ignore in favor of burrowing into his chest, the safest place in the whole world. Every bit of your love was owed to him. And you repaid it over and over again.

Billy held you tight all through the night and into the morning, whispering sweet things into your hair. This was your heaven- bare between his arms with his boots beneath your bed.

When he inevitably had to get up, he did it slowly, leaning down and kissing your hairline for a long time. Then he began to dress himself and you started to sit up, watching him sleepily with the covers pulled to your chest.

"Won't you stay?" you murmured, looking up at him longingly.

"Gotta get out before the sun gets any higher," he said apologetically, pulling one of his suspenders over his undershirt and kneeling at your side to press three lazy kisses to your cheeks and nose. His stubble tickled your skin, and you smiled, just a bit.

"You know I'll come back though?" Billy asked, shrugging his lone suspender off and pulling his shirt on, starting to do up the buttons.

You reached out for him, and he removed his fingers, letting you fasten the remaining buttons. "I want you to."

He smoothed your hair and nudged his lips to your forehead once more. "I will. I promise. It'll only be a few days and then I'll be back here holdin' ya."

Hoping with all your soul that he was right, you pulled him in by the collar to kiss him softly. Billy could probably feel your anxiety, because he pulled back a little, his nose bumping yours. "Baby..."

You nodded, your forehead leaning against his. "Hurry home."

"Promise," he whispered, giving you one more kiss before reaching for his boots and pulling them on.

Now he was standing, tucking his shirt in and setting his hat on his head. The final step. You'd witnessed it so many times and it always sent a pang through your chest. Billy was leaving and your heart wouldn't be full until he returned.

He leaned down over you, the brim of his hat shading you from the sunlight shining through the window. Oh, it made him a vision. He was lined in light like an angel. Billy had always been your angel.

"I love you," he said softly, lips caressing yours one more time. "I'll be home soon."

And with that he was gone, leaving like a shadow. You were left naked and alone, holding the sheets against your chest. Body already aching for his touch, but all you could do to soothe it was imagine.

The days after passed slower than you thought time could move. Distance makes the heart grow fonder. When the heart is already fond, distance becomes a wound only your lover can heal.

It was hard to pass the time as always. You wondered of his whereabouts, whether or not he was safe. It was a rhetorical question; Billy was almost never safe. But for your own peace of mind, you imagined he was. Maybe he was thinking of you at the same time you were of him.

At night when you struggled to close your eyes, you conjured the image of him riding home to you. Horse straining against the wind, hat nearly blowing off his head. And he'd dismount and stumble through your doorway any minute.

The next minute. No the next. The next. Maybe in two minutes. It was like counting sheep, and the repetition lulled you to sleep.

He said he was coming home soon. He's going to come home soon.

You were in the market when the news hit.

Usually, you tuned out the chatter of the customers around you, your mind on what you considered to be more important topics. But when someone mentioned your lover's name, your ears perked up.

"...shot, by the sheriff of another town," one woman was saying in hushed tones.

Someone may as well have burned a hole through your middle. Nonononononono. Maybe it was someone else.

Eyes wide, you interjected. "Billy? What Billy?"

The woman didn't seem put off by your interruption, seeming pleased to have another member of her audience. "Billy the Kid. The outlaw. Y'know, the one whose face is plastered all over town." She gave you a knowing look. "They got him."

Heartbeat pounding in your ears, you swallowed, trying to breathe normally. Eyes blurring, you clenched your jaw so the tears wouldn't fall. The woman's brow furrowed as she saw your expression, and her lips parted slightly. "Did you know him?"

"No," you answer quickly, giving her a tight smile. "No, it's just shocking is all."

Turning away from her, you somehow made your way out of the market, bumping into people whom you could care less about. The only thing you could see was the fuzzy outline of things, the only sound a dull roar echoing back and forth between your ears.

Billy.

When you came to, you were in a little thicket that you recognized. He brought you here, held you tight when he was still teaching you how to love-

Emotions overwhelmed you, and you were now helpless against them. Dropping to your knees and burying your face in your hands, you shook, body weakened. Is it true that when one soulmate dies the other starts on its way?

You hoped so. Oh, how you hoped you'd follow him to the grave. If you didn't, you'd scour the earth for his burial site and lie there with him, bodies separated only by dirt, until your heart stopped beating physically. It was already dead along with his.

Collapsed against the ground, you felt weaker than you ever had before. Maybe a merciful higher power was taking pity on you. Oh, it was a fate of agony to remain alive without the one person who could make it better. Somehow, you'd imagined Billy as immortal as the legends no doubt told of him.

But he had only been a man. With him went his promises; you knew now that Billy wasn't coming home soon.

And while you cursed his mortality, you embraced yours. Maybe it wouldn't be long now. Maybe his spirit was kneeling beside you, whispering for you to stand. But you wouldn't. You would stay still so the grim reaper would lead you away nice and easy. He probably didn't get people like that very often. While others fled the sight of him, you searched the horizon, counting the minutes until you could run to him.

The sky faded from blue to orange to black, and your heart still beat. You wanted to scream, wail, pound the dirt. But, surprising yourself, you calmly lifted yourself up, getting to your feet and picking up your bag, feet leading you back in the direction of your house. It wasn't home without him.

You hardly clocked anything about the journey back. The only thing you'd remember when you looked back were your thoughts. Now your world was void of love again. It was worse now that you'd tasted it. To you, Billy was love. And now love died. Everyone made it sound like an everlasting thing, but here it was, gone with the piercing of a bullet.

As you reached your house, you numbly pushed the door open, tossing your bag to the side and beginning to strip yourself of your clothes. First your dress, them your shoes; each stocking and your thin petticoat. It all created a messy trail to your bedroom, and you collapsed into the mattress, into the side where he used to sleep when he was home. Now in only your half stay and bloomers, hair pins scattered on the floor with your clothes, you hugged his pillow, trying to pretend it was him.

When your eyes shut, you hoped they wouldn't open again.

Shadowy dreams of pistols and cemeteries haunted you all through your sleeping hours, and you ran from them in your mind. It was all for naught, because you were met with the sight of Billy with a gaping hole in his chest, blood seeping through his shirt in a gruesome pattern. You reached your hands out to stop the bleeding, maybe, but all you did was make it worse. He choked for breath, and you screamed, a black pit swallowing you both up.

Eyes flying open, you sat up and choked on your breath, hand clutching at your collarbone, heartbeat punching against it. A wave of memory crashed over you, and you cursed sleep for doing nothing. You cursed death doubly for staying far away. Where was the coward when you needed him? Probably off carting screaming souls to the afterlife who didn't realize the luxury of life's end.

Rubbing your eyes, your head flopped against the mattress, squeezing his pillow between your arms. You couldn't cry, even though you had a viable reason. Shutting your eyes, you willed tears to come, to overwhelm you so you could finally fall apart. Get it over with. Learn how to put yourself back together the way he used to. Or don't. Just do something.

But nothing came. Only frustration. You smashed the pillow against your face and screamed into it, chest shaking with exhaustion.

Why wouldn't the end come? You desperately hoped Billy's spirit wasn't watching you. This was pathetic.

There was a sudden noise from the kitchen, but you paid it no mind, too lost in your mind to register anything outside it as real.

You didn't realize anything until the heavy bootsteps got closer to your room.

Pulling the covers up around yourself, you stared wide eyed as the door swung open. Even when it was dark you knew his silhouette. Was this a ghost?

Then he was coming toward you, reaching out, your name whispered like a prayer on his lips. You shrank back, more terrified than you'd ever been in your life.

Taking off his hat and tossing it aside, Billy sat on the side of the bed, one big, warm hand settling on your thigh. He didn't move as you quickly reached over, striking a match sharply and lighting the candle on the bedside. The flame cast dark shapes on his face.

Shaking your head in disbelief, you whispered, "This is cruel."

"Baby-" he started, but you cut him off.

"You're dead," you breathed, burying your face in your hands. "They said you were shot-"

"No." Billy pulled your hands down so you would look at him. He lifted one of them to rest against his chest, so you could feel his solid body, the thump of his heart. You started to shake, your eyes pricking. He squeezed your hand. "They all think I'm gone. And I am to them."

"What are you talking about?" your voice snagged and caught on the unshed tears in your throat.

"I said you were the only thing worth livin' for," he nodded, eyes holding yours. "Now you are. You are the only one I am alive for. Fuck all the rest of 'em. I was dead to 'em anyways." Billy thumbed the side of your cheek, dropping your hand so he could hold your face. "But to you, my love, my life. I'm breathin'."

Here were the tears you'd so desperately tried to force out earlier. Now they were pouring down your cheeks, cascading down to your collarbone and wetting your face with relief, joy, terror, confusion...all in a liquid revelation that he was really here. He was here and he was all yours, truly this time.

You burrowed into his arms, face pressed against his chest to hear that thump, thump, thump of the proof he was breathing. A sob tore itself from your throat, and you shook in his arms. Billy held you tightly, kissing the top of your head, whispering into you.

"Baby...baby I'm so sorry...I'm so sorry, I tried to get to you before you could hear...oh, my sweetheart, my love..." Billy's voice was breaking at the sight of your tears. You had never cried like this before, not in front of him, not ever. "Things were gettin' bad...I had to let 'em think I died...but I shoulda let ya know somehow before...I'm sorry baby, my sweet girl..."

Pulling back, you took his face in your hands, pressing your lips to his sweaty forehead, then his nose, then his lips, holding him there for a moment. Your kisses were needy, wanting. He came back home.

"Baby..." he croaked, drawing you into his arms once more. You clung to every bit of him you could grasp, every touch reassuring his presence. Billy's hands were at your jaw, holding you over your hair. He kissed your face over and over, and you nearly let a fresh bout of tears loose at the feel of his stubble. "Thought of nothing but you the whole ride here...saw ya..." Another kiss "...in the stars, in the river...everywhere." Two kisses to your left cheek.

Billy pressed his forehead to yours, then pulled you to sit on his thighs, squeezing you tightly and burying his face in your hair. "My sweet girl..."

You sniffled, clinging to him. "You were gone...you left me..."

"Ain't never leavin' again," he said sincerely, and you could hear the unspoken promise in his words. "We're gonna get outta town and go somewhere nobody's ever heard 'f me. It'll all die but we'll live for each other. Just you 'n me, honey. Forever."

In the span of a day, your greatest hopes and fears had coincided and created a supernova of horror and joy alike, the strength of both emotions separated by a very thin line.

Your love had returned. The world was right side up.

Billy held you until you were cried out, and swaddled you in his arms, nearly enveloping you and making the two of you one. He stroked your hair, lips ghosting any space of you he could reach.

As you drifted off, he whispered, "As long as you're in this world, darlin', I've gotta reason to stay in it."

#billy the kid #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #billy the kid x you #william h bonney x reader #william h bonney fanfiction #william h bonney x you #billy the kid fanfic #billy the kid imagine #billy bonney #william h bonney imagines #william h bonney imagine #william h bonney #milliesfishes billy #Spotify

108 notes · View notes