#anyways I may be completely out of the loop and everyone already knew this. but also the whole Core thing was basically accepted fanon | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

nctstar · 4 months

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Hello! I saw that your requests are opened. Can you please write something or a smut with Doyoung siren? It sounds so incredible in the beginning of golden age 🤯

hi! I know this is SOO late but I'm still getting used to this whole request thing...hopefully will be much better at it next year :) anyway, I think it's probably different to what you envisioned but it does involve siren Doyoung so :D

the girl of the Surface

I leant over to kiss Doyoung on the cheek. Sure enough, the skin on his face felt wet against my lips, and he tasted like salt. When I pulled away, his cheeks were flushed deep orange.

“May I see you again, Doyoung.” I walked away after that, not knowing this was the start of an endless story, a loop, if you will.

pairing: siren!doyoung x fem!reader

other members: the 127 members :)

word count: 3k

genre: low fantasy, smut

warnings: sexual content so minors please dni! yes the sexual content is between sirens and humans so if that makes you uncomfy then don't read, penetrative sex, riding, kissing, fingering, profanity (use of the f word mainly)

disclaimer: this is a fanfiction purely from my (filthy) imagination. I don't know the nct members and don't claim that they act like this in real life. I also do not condone any of the activity by any of the characters in this fic. I'm also not a siren expert so feel free to educate me kindly if I'm wrong about certain things - I did do some research for this but there's obviously a lot out there on stuff like this

a/n: honestly i'm a bit iffy about the quality of this - I feel like it's not my best writing but I'm still eager to get this out bc I feel like it's intriguing at the least. I feel like subconsciously I adapt my writing style to suit whoever I'm reading rn - and rn I'm reading the starless sea so I tried to be more whimsical - but reading back on this I don't think I can pull off this style like queen erin morgenstern can so...anyway it's a work in progress :D also completely forget about golden age oops

also let's just say the jungwoo alien fic walked so this one could run lmao

Every day, Doyoung sneaked away to meet the girl of the Surface.

That’s what everyone else called her, like she owned the place. Nobody knew her name, voice, what she wore or even what she carried. The outlines of her face and body were always blurry, just out of focus.

He wasn’t supposed to go see her. Not on the first day, and definitely not on the days after that.

Doyoung mainly spent most of his days cooped up in his bedroom, nose buried in the pages of a book, words swimming around in his head at all hours of the day. While his siblings rushed here and there, tails flapping and knocking knick-knacks off the makeshift shelves he had built, gossiping about the latest happenings at the market, he travelled the world in his head. Not just the one below, but above the Surface.

Many nights were spent awake, wondering, what is so bad about the Surface?

One night, way before he had ventured above and first laid eyes on her, excited shouts had awoken him from a floaty slumber, and he swam out of his house to find the body of a human male falling through the water, his white shirt billowing out of his body, one shoe coming off his feet, threatening to be lost in the depths of the water.

His brother, Jaehyun, nudged him. “Hey.”

He nodded, acknowledging his presence, but his eyes never left that shoe, not until it fell off completely and started to float away. At the same time, he watched the water around the body stain red, spreading quickly like he imagined paint would on canvas. Above the Surface, of course.

“You think this is how it is above the Surface?”

“Like what?” His brother was eating already. Not the human – well, not yet, anyway.

“Do they also feed on-“

“Hey! Doyoung! Get over here. We need more sirens.”

∞

The day after that, Doyoung and Jaehyun were initiated and sent up for the very first time.

“Hyung, how are you moving so easily with these things?” Jaehyun rubbed his sides in annoyance, wincing when his fingers met the quickly hardening ridges of fins. “I can’t believe I’m going to have this for the rest of my life.”

Doyoung was quiet, the swish-swish of his body travelling upwards, closer towards the Surface. His thoughts were flooded, the voices of the other sirens refusing to settle in his brain. Do not rise above the Surface.

But the people in the books, with their dances and songs – different to the ones he knew. Songs that inspired, that brought peace, that declared love.

Not songs that represented betrayal, violent ends for the ones who dared to stop and listen.

Would he be able to hear those songs?

“It’ll be fun. You know,” He caught up to Doyoung now, arms brushing as they swam in sync. “the others said you can have fun with them before the song ends.”

Doyoung looked at his younger brother, whose eyes were glinting with something akin to pride, or mischief. “What kind of fun?”

Jaehyun smiled at him. “Remember that time Johnny-hyung made that huge thing crash, and it had hundreds of humans on it? Well, he said he had a lot of fun that day.”

“It’s called a ship.” Doyoung looked ahead as the water began to lighten, signalling their arrival. “Those huge things are ships.”

“Okay…” He trailed off, frowning slightly before getting distracted by his new fins again, now fully hard and sharp enough to cut the skin of his hands if he pressed down too hard. “Anyway, we can always hope for people on the shore too. In fact, they say there’s a human who lives on the shore of the land nearby.”

“What land?” Doyoung watched the rays of the light source above, the sun as the humans called it, let beams of light strike through the water. They moved on their own accord, freely, like how he pictured the legs of the dancers as they moved to music above the Surface.

“Hyung it’s called an island, actually.” Jaehyun smirked, teasingly flicking his tail against Doyoung. The pressure of the fins in his sides started to push into his chest, making him feel a little lightheaded. A human…on an island? Above the Surface?

“Yeah, well, it’s kind of a legend. Like, legend has it she exists, but she never responds to a siren’s call.”

Something turned in Doyoung’s stomach. “She doesn’t…” he whispered, looking down, thoughts plaguing him.

“Yeah. They tried everything, but…not a single time did she even step closer, or indicate she was affected by the call. Hyung, they even,” Jaehyun grabbed Doyoung’s arm, letting his body float around to face him. “rose above the Surface. A siren-hyung was desperate. And then-“

“And then what?”

“He was never seen again.” For a moment it was silent, Jaehyun’s eyes staring unblinking into his own. Then, his torso erupted in fits of laughter, the fins in his sides uncomfortably moulded to his shaking body. “I can’t believe you fell for that, Hyung.” Doyoung sighed, shrugging off the arms of his younger brother. Above him, the sun burned ferociously, the water lining the edge of the Surface getting lighter.

∞

I had no idea I would meet Doyoung that day at the shore.

I was expecting a stretch of time with nothing to keep me company but the sounds of the rushing waves and the mess of my own thoughts. But alas, the figure became clearer as I walked barefoot across the sands.

Stopping in my tracks, wanting desperately to have some sort of weapon handy instead of a hefty book (though, a book could easily become a weapon if you try hard enough), I called out, chest feeling tight all of a sudden. “Who are you?”

The man was naked excepting the wrap of brown fabric around his hips, and my eyes ran across the weird lines on the sides of his toned chest. He was completely dry.

He didn’t move, and, I couldn’t see his face yet, so it was a surprise to hear his voice for the first time. Not only because I didn’t expect him to speak, but because his voice came as a deep, sonorous sound right into my ears, as if I had earbuds in and had just hit play.

“My name is Doyoung. I’m a siren.”

I should have turned away immediately, ignored him, or even stayed in place, waiting for him to leave. But instead, I did the worst thing you could ever do in such a situation.

In storybooks, sirens use songs that capture you, much like a physical trap, until you’re so far deep you fail to comprehend what you got yourself into. Yet, Doyoung was silent after he finished speaking, after admitting the sin of his existence.

“Are you serious?” The feeling of his chest was rubbery and wet underneath my fingers, despite him looking completely dry. “How is this-“

“Why did you come to me?”

I looked up at his face. He was handsome, but not in the mysterious way that you would expect a mythical creature. Redness and scars peppered across his skin, eyes furrowed in human-like confusion, legs as long as sundown stretched for on this island. His hair was messy, lips tinted red, parted slightly as if he was really breathing. My hands ached to touch his face, but I held back, not wanting to fondle this random…male specimen I had literally just met any longer.

“You’re the girl of the Surface. Like in the stories.”

You squinted, the sun beating down mercilessly between your bare shoulder blades. Getting nervous ay once under his intense gaze, I toyed with the shell necklace around my neck, averting his gaze. “Um, thanks, I guess. But I’m just, well, I’m _.”

“Legend has it siren calls don’t work on you.” Doyoung kept speaking like a narrator in an old timey film, stating facts rather than working to keep a real conversation going. “You look really blurry all the time, but you seem to take on the form of a human female. A young adult one. In all the decades you’ve been here, no one has been able to take you to the seas. You’re an enigma. No one can figure you out.”

I paused, my brain refusing to accept any of this information, but my heart warmed with something gentle and forgiving. I leant over to kiss Doyoung on the cheek. Sure enough, the skin on his face felt wet against my lips, and he tasted like salt. When I pulled away, his cheeks were flushed deep orange.

“May I see you again, Doyoung.” I walked away after that, not knowing this was the start of an endless story, a loop, if you will.

∞

Days and days and days later, I lay down on the sand with Doyoung for the first time.

He lay on top of me, and I hooked one arm around his neck, pulling his face near mine so he could kiss me. He did not. Instead, he rocked his hips against mine, and I felt his hard-on against my clothed core, making me whine. Pieces of sand travelled through strands of my hair, settling on my scalp.

Was this wrong?

He sank his teeth into my teeth, making me shake under him. Iron grip around my wrist and arm, he sucked and nipped the skin of my neck, and I cried out in pleasure. “Oh my god, don’t stop, p-please.” He groaned, his nose nestled into the crook of my neck. Letting go of one of my hands, he brought one between my legs, both of us working together to shrug off my bikini bottoms. Fingers nestled inside me all in one go with no warning, I felt the length of his fingers push against my sensitive walls. I bucked my hips upwards, involuntarily letting him travel knuckle deep inside me. When I climaxed, I dug my teeth into the salty skin of his neck. His eyes were closed the entire time.

“Is this wrong?” Ironically, even as he paused, his hard-on pressed urgently against me, as if answering for me. I shook my head, wanting to feel him inside me, wanting no more than to let my mind and body turn into jelly, to be overwhelmed by sensations akin to ones that made my world shake. I kissed him deeply, fingers digging into his scalp. Despite being so obviously turned on, and proceeding to fuck me at inhumane speeds for the next hour, Doyoung didn’t make a single noise the entire time after that.

∞

You couldn’t stop reading, even as the clock on your bedside shone angrily. Beside you, your husband groaned. “Babe.” One hand was slung messily across his eyes, the sheets revealing a slip of stomach and leg as he shuffled, half asleep. “You’re not reading your diary again, are you?”

“Doie, it’s just so cute. I love reading how we met. And what we did.” You brought your face closer to Doyoung’s, his eyes now sharper, even in the dim lights of your shared bedroom. You made sure the moonlight hit the curve of your hips and ass as you moved to kneel next to him. From his lips to the skin of his face and torso, you watched his body breathe sleepily. So beautiful, you thought.

It had been five years since that day he had crawled out of the water and met you.

Now you were, as Doyoung would say, living life above the Surface, like commoners in a children’s story about witches or pirates. People who fell in love, got married, had babies, then lay to rest on Earth forever.

By some magic, Doyoung was no longer a siren.

But the thought that he might still be one, might still accidentally have trapped you all these years, haunt him.

As you felt Doyoung’s length fully sheath inside you, you frowned, moans spilling senselessly out of your mouth as you rode him. You knew him so well, physically, and emotionally. Leaning over, you kissed him over and over again, the sounds of your hips hitting his pelvis becoming louder as you tried to reach your high. “Shhh…baby…you’re perfect. ” A lone tear slid down his face as he stared into your eyes, as if they were endless voids and not the eyes of his beloved wife. He began to whimper, and the sound of him shaking as he came made you reach your high too, slumping over him as you heaved. “Fuck yes.” You noisily kissed him as your hips began to bounce again, making him throw his head back and moan loudly.

“H-how can this be real?” The ceiling was warping into swirls, and the air was getting hotter. The weight of your thighs that pressed against the sides of his hips were beginning to fade away, and he felt paralysed. Distant voices wafted into the room, as if a filter was suddenly being lifted. Someone shouting his name. He pressed his eyes closed, tight, his hips stuttering as he came down from his second high.

You were gone. But for some reason, he could still feel the smooth surface of the shell that hung from your neck tickle against his neck, as if you were still there on top of him.

“HYUNG!”

His eyes snapped open. He felt a rush of air. Someone sighing, their blurry figure materialising as he came to. “Fuck, you scared us!”

The sun bore down on his face, and Doyoung felt his skin burning under its unforgiving rays. Despite the ache that yelled angrily through his entire body, he sat up, now faced with the rest of his members. Taeyong squatted next to him, holding a cold waterbottle, droplets riding down the outside surface. “Here. Drink this.”

Johnny’s broad figure towered above him, still hazy, but as his face got closer, his voice became clearer. “Where did she go?”

Doyoung frowned, and Johnny matched his expression. Everyone was silent, Doyoung shakily responding. “What are you talking about?” Taeyong tapped him, bringing the bottle closer to his lips.

As the ice-cold liquid rushed down to his stomach, Doyoung was awash with a new sense of clarity. He physically shuddered, as hidden memories of the past five years came to light. His face dropped, his eyes filled with horror. “W-where is she? The girl?”

“As I said, she left after she saw me. It was strange…” Johnny paused, and then pressed his lips together, looking down. The others were silent, and Doyoung whipped his head to all of them. They were all holding back. “What is it?”

Taeyong rested one hand on Doyoung’s bare shoulder, making him flinch. Nodding apologetically, he continued. “She looked vastly different to all of us.”

Jaehyun scoffed, rolling his eyes. “I’m sure this is all an elaborate prank, Hyung. This is the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.”

“Hyung.” The maknae spoke, looking genuinely scared. Yuta patted him gently, as if silently agreeing with his next words. “Jaehyun-hyung saw Taeyong-hyung.”

“I wasn’t there, I swear.” Taeyong lifted both his hands up, his eyes watery and confused. “I swear to you guys.”

“Well, I saw Sarah. From my high school.”

“The girl that you lo-“ Doyoung stopped. Icicles formed in his stomach, the realisation making him sick. “Oh my god.”

“I saw Lavender, Doyoung.” He didn’t need that confirmation, but Taeyong’s voice was shaky now. “I saw her, clear as day. But…there was something off about her. I know this sounds crazy, but, she…she didn’t seem like herself.”

“But…whoever we saw,” Jaehyun still seemed skeptical, side-eyeing Johnny. “They all ran away after the first glance.”

Taeyong’s face was reddened by the harsh sun as Doyoung sat frozen in shock.

“Did she – or he – leave anything behind?”

As the words left his mouth, Doyoung’s hands were already inside the pocket of his pants. He let his fingers run over the shell in his pocket as the rest of the boys muttered their answers.

The words were becoming background noise, his thoughts all-encompassing, consuming him like water on a cold swim. He stood up, much to the surprise of the others. “I’m fine, guys. Meet you at the car? I’ll just be a few minutes.”

He would’ve found another way, even if his members hadn’t reluctantly left him that day at the beach. After all, you had left the necklace in his pocket for a reason. You loved him. You weren’t tricking him. You let him live because you loved him.

“Welcome home, baby.”

Right?

∞

To you, the stories had always fascinated you. The people of the Surface, with their friendly songs and parties, and stupid, blind trust in things that looked like them.

Especially things that looked like desirable women.

It quickly became your life’s mission to have as many as you could, not to share, never…to share. No, this was all for yourself. Nobody else got the Surface like you did. Nobody could scan and hunt on dry land like you did. You were always one step ahead, always planning your next move. In fact, the cute little maknae on the beach today was next on your radar.

But Doyoung…Doyoung was so much fun.

And what is it that they always said?

Oh right.

You’re allowed to have a little bit of fun…until the song ends, of course.

The song was almost over for Doyoung. Despite everything, you were starting to feel…bad, something you had read about in human books. Guilt. You wanted to give him a chance, a chance to walk away, because he honestly seemed like a good human. But obviously, he liked you too much to forget so easily.

You forgot that humans could be naïve like that.

At least you tried. Now, as the sun set on the horizon, it was almost time to head home. You were quickly getting bored, and tired of singing for the day.

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stranger-marauders · 2 years

Text

fractured

twenty: the return of billy hargrove

chapter summary: After Eleven reunites with everyone at the Byers' house, the group comes up with a new game plan to close the gate for good.

chapter warnings: language

word count: 3.7k

series masterlist | masterlist

AFTER KATE AND her father had explained that their cabin would be the safest place to take Will to fix him, Steve and Nancy had gone outside to dig through the mountain of objects that sat in front of the Byers' shed. The goal was to find anything that could possibly produce heat to give to Jonathan and Joyce to take with them.

At first, the two had done their jobs in silence again. They didn't know what to say to each other, really—it had been extremely obvious that they were both completely distracted by other people, not interested in one another in the slightest. Besides, after Nancy had seemingly broken up with him at the Halloween party, after Steve had walked away from her the next morning during basketball practice, after she'd run away for a few days with Jonathan, after he'd physically gone to break up with her (the only thing stopping him was the fact that she hadn't even been home)—after everything, it was extremely obvious that they didn't belong together anymore, and they never had in the first place.

"You should go with him," Steve said, finally breaking the silence between them.

"What?"

"With Jonathan."

"No, I'm…" Nancy scoffed. "I'm not just gonna leave Mike."

"No one's leaving anyone." He walked over to her, eyeing something that looked like another space heater. "Kate and I've got it, okay? I may be a pretty shitty boyfriend, but… turns out I'm actually a pretty damn good babysitter."

He handed the heater to her, but she only stared at him. "Steve…"

"It's okay, Nance. It's okay."

"I…"

Before Nancy could say anything else, like she could say anything else that would change his mind, Steve walked away.

Kate walked out the front door and onto the front porch to find Mike and El inches away from a kiss.

"El… Come on, let's go. It's time," Hopper said, making the two pull away from each other.

Kate walked toward them as fast as she could, pain shooting through her body with every step she took. "I'm coming, too."

"The hell you aren't," her father replied before she could even start walking down the steps.

"I'm going with you!"

"Kathy," Steve said, putting his hand on her arm, making her stop in her tracks. He nodded toward Hopper as he threw his arm over her good shoulder.

Her father nodded back once. "We're coming back, Kate. Just stay here and rest, okay?"

"But—" Before Kate could even begin to protest, Hopper and El had both already gotten inside of the SUV. She sighed, leaning into Steve once they, as well as the Byers and Nancy, drove away. "It's not even that bad."

"What?" he said, pulling her closer into him. "Not that bad?"

She sighed again, not wanting to move. She'd been completely sidelined. Even if she was still hurt, she could've helped somehow. That was the only way she could make it up to Joyce, to Bob. She had to do something.

"Nancy and I broke up. Officially, anyway."

Kaet turned her head to him sharply. "Did she—?"

"I did." Steve stifled a laugh. "I mean, I was actually going to do it after you left my house yesterday, but that obviously didn't work out."

"Shit, Steve, I'm so sorry," she said, looping her arm around him and leaning her head closer into him. It was her best attempt at a hug, and for now, it would do the job.

At that moment, even though they wouldn't have admitted it, everything seemed to have started to fall into place.

Kate had stolen a shirt of Jonathan's to change into for the time being. She knew he wouldn't mind, and wearing the sweatshirt with the rips in it had been driving her insane, even if it was Steve's.

She and Steve had changed the bandages on her wounds once again. As they tried to wipe the additional blood she'd lost since the last time they'd changed them, they realized how much blood she'd lost, how much she was still losing. Neither of them brought any attention to it, neither that nor to how she'd almost turned green she was so pale.

After she'd cleaned herself up as much as she could, at least for the time being, she lay on the couch, trying to rest her eyes.

Steve and Kate had assigned the other kids to start cleaning up the house as they waited for the others to return. Kate thought it would be nice for Joyce to come back to a somewhat clean house, even if the paper vines still remained. While Mike, Lucas, and Max cleaned, Dustin and Steve cleared out the refrigerator, and very loudly at that.

Eventually, Kate gave up on trying to rest. She sighed, sitting up on the couch and adjusting herself upright. "Could you please keep it down in there?"

"Sorry, Kathy."

"Sorry," Dustin called. He turned to Steve, who carried the dead Demodog that El had launched through the window earlier in a towel. "It should fit now."

"Is this really necessary?"

"Yes, it is, okay? This is a groundbreaking scientific discovery. We can't just bury it like some common mammal, okay? It's not a dog."

"How many times have you said the word Demodog tonight?" Kate asked, standing in the doorway of the kitchen.

Steve's face grew with worry. "Kathy, please go lay back down—"

"I'm fine."

While she sounded much better than she had before, she still certainly didn't look fine. She'd gotten better at standing on her own two feet, but her walking was still poor. She was able to move around on her own, but not as well as she could've been. Steve was absolutely sure that she was purely running on adrenaline and nervous energy. With that being said, she certainly wasn't well enough to constantly be on her feet, especially when there wasn't any reason for her to be.

Steve sighed, turning to Dustin. "You're explaining this to Mrs. Byers, all right?" Whenever he started to cram the carcass into the refrigerator, he already struggled making the Demodog fit into such a small space. "Christ, help me out."

"What am I supposed to do?"

"Get the door, man. The door."

"All right, I got the door."

"Ew, Jesus—"

"God—"

Kate couldn't help but laugh at the two of them as they struggled to cram it inside of the refrigerator. Whenever they finally got the Demodog inside, slamming the door shut, Steve ruffled the hair on Dustin's head, the hat on top of his hair, of course, before he tried to move next to Kate. He had almost gotten his arm around her again before she took a step back. "For the love of God, please wash your hands after that."

Steve pressed his lips together whenever she laughed again, walking over to the kitchen sink to wash his hands.

"How much convincing did that take?" she asked, moving next to him and leaning against the kitchen counter.

"Oh, not much," Steve said, turning the water on. "Just threatened my happiness and wellbeing, so…"

Kate stifled a laugh. "He's literally thirteen years old. What's he gonna do?"

"Okay, in my defense, you were horrifying when we were thirteen."

"I mean, yeah, but that's because I had special cause," she explained. She counted out the reasons on her fingers as he washed his hands. "Cop kid, violent streak, bitch. It adds up."

"I didn't mean it like that," he said, turning the water back off before he grabbed a kitchen towel to dry his hands. "I mean, you're not wrong, I just meant you were scary in general."

She scoffed, trying to act offended. "Are you seriously calling me a bitch, Steven?"

"No, no, no! I didn't… It's not like that—!"

Her giggling had been the thing to cut him off. "Oh my God, I'm kidding. I'm self-aware."

Before he could reply, however, both Steve and Kate picked up on the argument that erupted between the four kids in the living room. They both quickly exchanged glances before joining in on the conversation.

"Mike, would you just stop already?"

"You weren't in there, okay, Lucas?" Mike said. "That lab is swarming with hundreds of those dogs."

"Demodogs!" Dustin shouted.

"Listen, the Chief will take care of her," Lucas said.

"Like she needs protection," Max muttered aloud.

Steve finally decided to step in. "Listen, dude, a coach calls a play in a game, bottom line, you execute it. All right?" He still held the kitchen towel in his hands, drying them off still.

"Okay, first of all, this isn't some stupid sports game. And second, we're not even in the game. We're on the bench," Mike retorted.

"Yeah, right, s–so my point is…" Steve cut himself off, hesitating to go on. Everyone was staring at him, waiting for him to finish. Even Kate was watching him closely—she knew how he could give the absolute worst advice. "Right, yeah, we're on the bench, so, uh, there's nothing we can do."

As Steve threw the towel he used to dry his hands over his shoulder, Dustin said, "That's not entirely true." Everyone turned to look at him before he continued on. "I mean, these Demodogs, they have a hive mind. When they ran away from the bus, they were called away."

"So if we get their attention…," Lucas started.

"Maybe we can draw them from the lab," Max said.

"Clear a path to the gate," Mike added.

"Yeah, and then we all die!" Steve interjected.

"Well, that's one point of view," Kate retorted.

Steve turned to her, staring at her in concern. "Seriously? How are you agreeing with them?" He shook his head as she put her hands up in surrender. "No, that's not a point of view, Kathy. That's a fact."

"I'm sorry, I'd rather not have both members of my immediate family die at the same damn time."

Before Steve and Kate could continue bickering, Mike walked behind them, moving into the kitchen. When the kids had followed him, Steve and Kate followed, too. "This is where the Chief dug his hole. This is our way into the tunnel. So…" He ran off to another spot in the house. "Here. Right here. This is like a hub." He moved to where they'd found Hopper, standing on top of the cluster of papers. "So you got all the tunnels feeding in here. Maybe if we set this on fire…"

"Oh yeah? That's a no," Steve interjected.

"The Mind Flayer would call away his army," Dustin said, ignoring him.

"They'd all come to stop us," Lucas said.

"We circle back to the exit," Mike continued.

"Guys," Steve said, but the kids and Kate continued on like he wasn't even there.

"By the time they realize we're gone…"

"El and my dad would be at the Gate," Kate finished.

"Hey, hey, hey! This is not happening," Steve said, clapping his hands with every "hey."

"But—"

"No, no, no, no, no! No buts. I promised I'd keep you shitheads safe, and that's exactly what I plan on doing. We're staying here, on the bench, and we're waiting for the starting team to do their job. Does everybody understand?"

"This isn't a stupid sports game," Mike said, giving him a disgusted look.

"I said does everybody understand that?" Steve replied. "I need a yes."

Kate rolled her eyes. "Okay, Mom."

As the kids tried to stifle their little laughs, Steve's face grew red. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, an engine revved from outside.

Max ran to the window first, but all the kids looked out the glass to see who it was. Without having to move, Kate sighed, exchanging glances with Steve. She could tell who had arrived outside just by the sound of the engine.

"It's my brother," Max said, almost fearful. "He… He can't know I'm here. He'll kill me. He'll kill us."

"I'd like to see him try," Kate replied.

Steve only looked out the window as he watched Billy pull into the driveway. "I have an idea."

Steve had told Kate and the kids to stay inside while he dealt with Billy Hargrove. While the kids watched from the living room window, Kate had placed herself behind the door, leaning against the wall just in case something Steve's plan went to shit. From where she stood, she could hear almost everything going on outside. Almost everything.

From the porch, Steve watched as Billy stepped out of his car, taking a drag on his cigarette. "Am I dreaming, or is that you, Harrington?"

"Yeah, it's me, don't cream your pants."

Billy took off his jacket as he slammed his car door shut. "What're you doing here, amigo?"

Steve and Billy met between the car and the house. "I could ask you the same thing. Amigo."

"Lookin' for my stepsister. A little birdie told me she was here."

"Huh, that's weird. I don't know her."

"Small? Redhead? Bit of a bitch, just like your little Blondie."

Steve held his tongue before he could punch him just for the comment about Kate. He knew he couldn't hit him. Not if he wanted his plan to work. "Doesn't ring a bell. Sorry, buddy."

Billy took the cigarette out of his mouth and sighed. "You know, I don't know, this… this whole situation, Harrington, I don't know. It's giving me the heebie-jeebies."

"Oh yeah? Why's that?"

He took another drag of his cigarette. "My thirteen-year-old sister goes missing all day, and then I find her with you in a stranger's house, and you lie to me about it."

Steve chuckled. "Man, were you dropped too much as a child, or what?" Billy laughed, blowing smoke in his face as he continued. "I don't know what you don't understand about what I just said. She's not here."

"Then who is that?" Billy asked, pointing to something in front of him with his cigarette.

Steve turned around to find all four kids peeking out the front window. Whenever the kids realized they had been seen, they all four jumped back down behind the couch.

"Shit! Did he see us?" Dustin asked.

Kate looked over to the kids, seeing their newly adapted location. "If you guys were looking over the couch, then yeah, definitely." She quickly turned her head against the door again, trying to listen to what was going on outside. When that wasn't much help, she looked through the peephole of the door, hoping she could possibly see them a bit better or something.

Steve felt a pit in his stomach whenever he looked back at Billy. "Oh shit. Listen—"

Before Steve could say anything else, Billy pushed him to the ground with a slight shove. "I told you to plant your feet." Without another word from him, he kicked Steve hard in the chest, trying to ensure that he wouldn't come after him.

"Shit," Kate whispered, backing up from the door as it swung open. She stood in front of the kids, trying her best to look as defensive as possible. She had no idea what he'd done to Steve to get through the door, but it had obviously been enough to where he hadn't come back yet.

"Well, well, well," Billy said, his eyes landing on Max. He slammed the door, moving closer toward Kate and the kids. "Lucas Sinclair, what a surprise."

"Leave them alone, Billy," Kate warned, but it was no use. She even sounded weak when she spoke.

"You're here, too? What're the odds of that?" Billy said, moving closer to her. Kate shivered—Steve needed to come back now. For every step Billy took closer to her, she took a step backward toward the wall until eventually, he had her where he wanted her: close and cornered by him. He moved closer to her, and Kate tried to move away from him. She could smell the cigarettes he'd recently smoked on his breath. "Damn, you look like hell. He hurt you or something?"

"Get out of here," Kate said coolly.

"He do this to you?"

"Billy, I said get out."

He got closer to her face. "Not unless you and Maxine come with me."

She scoffed. "You serious?" Whenever he didn't back down, she spit directly in his face. "That answer your question?"

Kate almost immediately regretted her decision as he threw her to the ground, moving on to his next target after he'd wiped his face off as the kids called her name. When her head hit back against the wall, then the floor, she lost consciousness for only a second, her ears ringing whenever she made impact with the ground. When she opened her eyes again, her vision was fuzzy, and her wounds started to burn in pain again.

"I thought I told you to stay away from him, Max," Billy said, moving toward the kids again.

As things started to escalate inside the Byers' home, Kate's ears rang, and she still couldn't quite comprehend what was happening around her. Even if she couldn't truly comprehend what was going on, she tried peeling herself off the floor. The kids, the kids, the kids—

"Billy, go away," Max replied. She almost seemed as if she was trying not to cry.

"You disobeyed me," he said, ignoring her. "And you know what happens when you disobey me."

"Billy…"

"I break things." Before anyone could react, he took Lucas by the jacket and shoved him against the wall of Joyce's chain cabinet. As the kids called for Billy to let him go, Kate still fought to get off the floor, watching as Lucas struggled. It almost seemed to be of no use—the little strength she'd gotten back had just as quickly been taken away from her.

"Since Maxine won't listen to me, maybe you will," Billy said. "You stay away from her. Stay away from her! You hear me?"

"I said get off me!" Lucas shouted, kneeing him in the crotch. Billy let him down, an instinctual release because of the pain.

Before Kate could pick herself up off the floor, someone, seemingly coming from nowhere, lifted her up, trying to get her back to her feet. At first, she wasn't able to process who it was or what they were saying to her, but whenever she heard the name "Kathy" (of course, after being followed by many apologies and such), she knew exactly who it had been.

As she got to her feet again, she only watched as Billy gained his balance again, but now seemed even angrier than he had been before. "You're so dead, Sinclair! You're dead."

Steve had moved toward him since helping Kate up off the floor, pushing Billy to face him. "No." A pause. "You are!" Before Billy could reply, he punched him square in the face, knocking him back.

Kate leaned up against the wall, just beginning to process the situation. "Steve!" She knew he couldn't win a fight to save his life.

Billy laughed as he came back from the punch, his nose bleeding. "Looks like you got some fire in you after all, huh? I've been waiting to hear about this King Steve everybody's been telling me so much about!"

Steve put two fingers to his chest, pushing Billy away from him. "Get out."

Billy stared at him for only a moment before throwing a punch of his own.

As the two began to punch each other, Dustin shouted, "Yes! Kick his ass, Steve!"

Kate only stared like a deer in headlights. She only hoped he'd make it—if Steve couldn't even win a fight with Jonathan, there was no way he would be able to win a fight against Billy Hargrove.

Billy only laughed maniacally as he smashed a plate against Steve's head, making him lose his balance for enough time to let Billy pin him to the ground and to start beating the absolute shit out of him.

"Stop! You're going to kill him!" Kate shouted, running to try to tear Billy off of Steve. However, it was no use—Billy wasn't even fazed by her in the slightest.

That was when Max came over to them with a syringe, one that Mike had grabbed from Hawkins Laboratory, and plunged it into Billy's neck. He stood up and stared at Max, who now stood next to Kate, pulling the needle out of his neck.

"The hell is this?" he said, moving closer to the two girls.

"The paralytic," she said, turning to Max. She had never been so thankful for someone to steal something before.

"You little shit, what did you do?" Billy asked, stepping toward them. With every step forward he took, the girls took another step back. Before he could get to them, however, he passed out on the floor. He wasn't unconscious, however—he was laughing.

Kate moved to the floor next to Steve, trying to get him to do something, anything. She looked at his face, her breath hitching in her throat. He looked even worse than she did now with his face completely coated in blood, his nose crooked, both of his eyes black, his lip busted—she had never seen him so beat up before. He was almost unrecognizable. "Steve. Hey, Steve, talk to me. Can you hear me? Steve—"

As she went on, trying her best to bring him back to consciousness, Max picked up his bat, holding it defensively in front of Billy. "From here on out, you leave me and my friends alone. Do you understand?"

"Screw you," Billy muttered weakly.

Max slammed the bat down right in between his legs, landing on the floor, but inches away from his crotch. "Say you understand! Say it! SAY IT!"

"I understand," Billy muttered.

"What?" Max asked again, raising the bat again. His almost inaudible muttering had obviously not been enough of a response from him for her.

"I understand," he repeated, pushing himself to be louder.

Max threw the bat to the floor as Billy finally fell unconscious. The girl belt down and reached for his keys, holding them up and shaking them once she'd gotten them off his belt. "Let's get out of here."

next chapter

taglist:

@thatsonezesty13 @cece5298 @thepowerstoner @alovelytardis @coolchick333 @stand-tall-pineapple @littlet-holmes @guichu @cinderellacauseshebroke @blackbirddaredevil23 @mads-weasley @ilovemarauders @pearlstiare @liableperfections @khaylin27 @girlwiththerubyslippers

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x hopper!reader #stranger things 2 #steve harrington headcanon #steve harrington x oc #steve harrington series #steve harrington stranger things

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5sosfanfictioncatalogue · 4 months

Text

Fics Written In 2021 Masterlist

A Part Of Me (ao3) - stelleshine michael/luke, calum/ashton E, 77k

Summary: After a skate park mishap, could Michael really be lucky enough to find the love of his life in the emergency department?

Cards Are Dealt - @ashtcnirwin (elivigar) luke/ashton E, 100k

Summary: “You wanna… date me?” he asks eventually, when the silence is starting to feel loaded. “I don’t date and even if I did, I definitely wouldn’t be interested in dating you. I’d say no offense, but… full fucking offense.”

Ashton snorts. “Don’t flatter yourself, pumpkin, I have no interest in dating you either. Actually, the thought alone is exhausting and a little nauseating.”

Clenching his jaw, Luke grinds his teeth and shakes his head. “Then what do you want from me?”

“Sex. I already said that.”

A story about wants and expectations branching out and evolving without the knowledge or consent of those they belong to.

Denouement (Love is Almost Always Accidental) (ao3) - galacticsugar luke/ashton T, 28k

Summary: It’s 9pm on Sunday night and Ashton is alone in his room, crying. Oh, and he’s in Paris. Tomorrow he starts his senior year of high school, something he had been looking forward to pretty much his entire life. But then his parents had to go and ruin it by sending Ashton to boarding school in Paris for his final year of high school.

Ashton's parents send him to boarding school in Paris, where he is immediately charmed by Luke. Unfortunately, Luke has a boyfriend.

Ease (ao3) - Grace_Williams calum/ashton, michael/luke G, 138k

Summary: In a world where everyone was a dominant or a submissive and everyone had an assigned soulmate, Ashton was remarkably unsure of himself. Nothing is going as he planned and his soulmate, Calum, is, to put it simply, not who he expected.

Michael is Calum's best friend and an all round terrible example when it comes to navigating relationships.

Calum's assistant Maggie, along with her soulmate Carla, seem to be the only ones who do understand how a relationship is supposed to work.

Are they the only people can put those around them at ease?

Eighteen (ao3) - boomercal luke/ashton E, 56k

Summary: Eighteen-year-old Luke is done putting up with his father and brothers so he takes his father's Corvette and credit card to track down Ashton Irwin. Who graduated a few years ahead of him and has a reputation for smoking, drinking and sleeping around; surely he'll be enough to make his dad meet his demands... right?

feeling the weight of the world (ao3) - babyblueliveshere calum/ashton M, 22k

Summary: duke university and the university of north carolina, ten miles apart, home to the most intense rivalry in all of college basketball. and now, they have the top two high school basketball recruits in the nation: ashton irwin and calum hood.

for every question why (ao3) - caughtcal (marvelaf) calum/ashton T, 9k

Summary: When doing what he wants means sacrificing everything he knows, Calum has to find a way to deal with the changes.

Greyhound, Run - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) luke/ashton M, 12k

Summary: It's a small town—the sort where everyone knows everyone—so when a new car pulls into their lot that he doesn't recognize, and some blonde blue-eyed pretty boy steps out, Ashton's thrown for a loop.

But, he's seen it a time before, and he knows the look in someone's eye when they're running from something.

home is wherever you are tonight (ao3) - lifewasradical luke/ashton E, 72k

Summary: Life has become so mundane in the past few years that there’s very little that sends a thrill up Luke’s spine anymore. It’s that idea that had him saying yes to the idea of moving out here for a few weeks anyways: the knowledge that this was a completely new place where no one knew his name. He could be anyone he wanted to be here, within reason. He wouldn’t be seeing any of these people again after May, so what’s the harm in becoming a new person for a bit? Someone not so bogged down by the shit in their head that they can’t get out of bed some mornings. Maybe this is a step in the direction of the person Luke wants to be in the future anyways.

Or, Luke inherits a beach house on a tiny coastal island that needs some work. He didn't plan on falling in love with the guy at the hardware store.

I'd Marry You With Paper Rings (ao3) - FayeHunter luke/calum T, 4k

Summary: Calum seems to be on a mission to propose to Luke with as many things as he can. Luke just wants it to be real.

lu and mike (tt) (ao3) - coolbabyblue michael/luke T, 426k

Summary: Luke Hemmings. He'd always been extravagant, extra, aggressive, careless and an absolute jaw dropper.

People avoid him in the halls, in the cafeteria, in class because they know that they'll end up hurt - should they cross him.

He's explosively aggressive. He's the son of a very wealthy man and he simply loves to live life on the edge - somewhere between dangerously and carelessly. Maybe that's why he's always ending up in detention.

But I'm intrigued by his mystery, I'm invested in his story and there's no way that he's going to shake me off. Sure he hates my friends with burning passion behind his icy eyes, but he tolerates me and only me.

--------------

The story in which Luke is an overly aggressive teen who just can't seem to catch a break in life and Michael just wants to show him that he deserves the world and more.

No Shame (ao3) - valiantnerd (arareads) ot4 E, 11k

Summary: Everyone makes wild offers and pleas as dirty talk, it just so happens that Luke has three rather giving bandmates who'll make every single one of his wildest dreams come true.

Even if—or especially when—it means fucking him on stage.

Paint Me - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) luke/ashton, michael/crystal E, 17k

Summary: “Holy shit, hold on a minute,” Calum says, “is that who we’re supposed to be drawing?”

“I can’t draw him,” Michael gawks, “I’m not a Goddamn renaissance painter.”

Or, the one where Luke is an art student practicing realism for a month and Ashton is the nude model in his portrait class.

right then i realized (you're the love of my life) (ao3) - jbhmalum ot4 T, 6k

Summary: “Ash,” Luke mumbles, half asleep on Michael’s shoulder. It seems the people fighting on the TV screen aren’t enough to keep him up. “Come cuddle. Not the time for a photoshoot.”

“Coming, coming.”

Ashton looks at the picture for a second, before shaking his head and pocketing his phone. The real thing is right there in front of him; it would be a shame not to appreciate it. He can look back at the picture when he’s on his own and feeling lonely. *

or: 5 times ashton takes pictures of his boys and 1 time they insist he needs to be in the picture too

Scene 14 - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) luke/ashton, michael/crystal, roy/calum, kaykay/sierra E, 128k

Summary: It's one of the first lessons you learn. There’s a difference between performing and acting.

Actors are intellectuals; they’re poets with their expression and the way their voices hit the air. Performers, by comparison, are children, ignorant and too bright for their own good. No one wants to admit to being only a performer. If you’re anyone worth anything, you want to be an actor.

And Luke is not an actor, but Ashton is.

Or, the one where Luke hates Ashton but has to pretend to be in love with him for five months for his acting final except for the fact that maybe he isn't pretending anymore.

Take Notes - @daydadahlias (cornflowerblue (daydadahlias)) luke/calum E, 78k

Summary: “Calum,” Luke replies shakily, reeling. “I can’t take your virginity.”

“You’re not taking it,” Calum says in a small laugh, bobbing his head, “I’m giving it to you.”

Or, the one where Calum wants someone to teach him about sex and Luke happens to be an education major.

The Bass Player (ao3) - boomercal calum/ashton E, 69k

Summary: It's his first big tour with his relatively newly joined band, opening for his favourite band in highschool. So what if he's always found the drummer hot, nothing's going to come of it, and it would unprofessional if something did happen.

the violent voices, loud and deafening (ao3) - lifewasradical michael/calum T, 3k

Summary: Michael knows he’s a chronic overthinker, thoughts always plaguing his mind even when he begs them to quiet down. He’s started categorizing his thoughts into different groups, depending on how loud the voices are screaming and what he can hear them saying. The thoughts spiral a lot, starting off as little seeds planted by his insecurities, blooming up into something big, terrifying, all encompassing.

Or, Michael can't get out of his own head, but at least he has Calum.

Tidal Wave - @ashtcnirwin (elivigar) luke/ashton E, 127k

Summary: “We talked about it before we went over to fetch you,” Ashton starts, “and Michael talked it over with Liz, and we decided that you shouldn’t live on your own for the time being.”

“You decided that I shouldn’t live on my own,” Luke repeats. “Sorry to be the bearer of bad news, but I’m an adult who can make his own decisions.”

Ashton smiles, but it’s thin and void of humour. “You’re staying with me for a while, Luke.”

A story about figuring out how to handle the difficulties life throws at you, on your own and with the help of loved ones.

Tie That Binds - @ashtcnirwin (elivigar) luke/ashton E, 98k

Summary: “If you do think I’m insane, I’ll go home and we can forget that this whole conversation ever took place. Deal?”

“I guess?” Ashton says, bewilderment painting every nook and cranny of his face. “What was with all the questions beforehand, though? You’re not gonna ask me to have sex with you, are you?”

Awful, unwelcome, mortified heat rushes to Luke’s face, and he lets out an involuntary noise that’s halfway between a squeak and a gag. He keeps his eyes on Ashton, though, and Ashton’s jaw drops.

“What?!” Ashton exclaims, putting his coffee down. “You want us to— what? Why?”

In which Luke wants to explore miscellaneous kinks and Ashton strikes him as a good candidate to do said exploring with with.

#5sosfanfictioncatalogue #5sos fanfic #5sos #5 seconds of summer #masterlists #2021fics #2021fics masterlist

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leechangjoons · 2 years

Text

Myron was trained her entire life to be the perfect spy, being personable and friendly so that people were more inclined to work with her for information gathering. In all aspects, she was exactly how the other person would want to befriend, and it meant that there were easy inroads to get what she needed before she discarded them and moved on to her next mark.

Her way of loving people she cared about though? Terribly clumsy and forward, the same way her knees buckled when she stood up too quickly without her cane, and so terribly scattered and muted that it took someone who knew what she was looking for to understand why she did the things she did. She didn’t particularly like claiming credit for matters, preferring her neutral and often nondescript approaches to others, but they knew, for certain that they were loved and thought about, and it was how she operated.

Even then, she didn’t expect reciprocation. Jangil and Lite took good care of her, and she strived as much as possible to ensure they felt the same way. Love however eventually had been brought up, and a split second decision of just trying things soon blossomed into a quiet romance the three of them partook in whenever possible. So lost in her thoughts that it took a sharp pain in her wrist to draw her out of her memories, and she scowled at Jangil retracting his hands after adjusting the thick, padded gloves she wore, trying to avoid seeming like she had been startled by the sudden rush of (abnormal) pain.

“It’s not that tight, is it?” she muttered, rubbing her wrists in surprise as she narrowed her eyes to wiggle her fingers (the gloves kept her working braces clean, which really helped), “I know I’m not that messed up, not yet.”

Jangil leant back, reaching for one of her elbow braces before tugging at her arm. “You need to say something if I put it on too tight or something. I’m not sure if you can’t tell the difference or if you’re just a sucker for this,” he complained, already looping it through her arm to adjust it on her behalf, “For someone who’s almost completely splinted up half the time, you can’t even rate your own issues. May as well stop wearing them.”

Myron puffed her cheeks up, pulling her arm away from him before wincing in pain at the force, and she was once again grabbed as he carefully braced up her elbow once more. “Every time you help me with this, Jangil, I get 3 spoonfuls of snark per brace. At least if I splint myself up the usual way, I give myself words of self-pity instead of getting random digs tossed my way,” she protested, all while he crawled over the bed to repeat the motion for her other arm, “Romance is war, those picture books you were reading were right.”

“They’re comics, Jooyoung,” Jangil huffed in exasperation, turning around to look for the other set of braces Myron needed, “And you liked the comics I got you when you were bedridden. I thought you liked Cells at Work! as much as I did.” He primped himself, quickly adjusting her knee braces before bringing her sneakers over, putting on the ankle braces with the same speed. “Comics seems your type of thing anyway. Getting Dankyung to read probably won’t work.”

“I preferred the other one with magic. The one about warlocks who could use specific curses,” Myron shapeshifted into the likeness of the protagonist, an earnest looking pink-haired teenager with tell-tale scars under his eyes, before she dropped the disguise to her usual self, “More books should discuss magic in this world. It’s so boring when everyone treats it like it’s some sort of weird fantasy bullshit that isn’t governed by anything. Leylines are everywhere, people have magic whether they notice it or not...it’s still wild that this place is so low on magic but insanely high with all your technology.”

Jangil patted her legs to indicate he was done before stumbling to the bed, allowing Myron to start putting his prosthetic leg on. “Personally, I’d rather magic was actually more prominent here,” he sighed, tilting his head to the side while she worked with the straps to keep the limb in place, “It’d be nice to have a magical answer to just about everything. You always seem to have some sort of spell for the occasion, it almost makes me jealous.”

“Well, if I was more of a healer, I could even regrow your right leg for you. Magic does answer a lot of our existing problems,” Myron offered, patting Jangil’s leg in response, “It’s a pity I trained primarily in illusions and arcane crafting instead. You seem like you’ve got most things covered, though. Most folks back home don’t adapt as well.”

Shuffling to the side to put his shoes on, Jangil offered Myron her cane, a motion she accepted with a small nod of gratitude. “The regeneration would be kind of nice, but...I dunno. I’m pretty fine with how I am right now, with or without the leg,” he replied, grinning in her direction, “Figured it’s the same with you.”

“I’m recovery resistant. Not that magic couldn’t solve it, but the fact that magic caused it is the caveat of that situation,” Myron corrected, offering Jangil her hand to pull him up to a standing position, “So, I ended up leaning into your modern solutions. Keeping myself nice and splinted up so I can move and walk around. If it works, the process doesn’t need fixing.”

To that, Jangil accepted, but not before pulling Myron closer to himself with little effort. “So, what does the wooden beam want for dinner? We agreed on Swedish food to celebrate Dankyung coming back,” he changed the subject fluidly, “You were high out of your mind on painkillers looking at the menu, though. Wanna see it again?”

“Hey!” Myron pushed away, quickly smoothening her shirt down with rose-tinted cheeks, “Grabbing me in a hug whenever I offer to help you up? Don’t you ever get tired of that?”

“Never,” Jangil leant in to leer, before ruffling her hair with a smug smile, “Come shuffle along now. We don’t want to miss the boat arriving at the ferry terminal, and Dankyung gets cranky when she’s hungry.”

Myron twirled her cane, adjusting its position to accommodate her weight before she tottered in step with Jangil. “She’s always cranky, I don’t think the hunger matters for her,” she retorted, unable to stop the grin on her face as she reached for Jangil’s hand, “When I get hungry though, I like gnawing on the arms of the people I’m hanging out with.”

“Terrifying. Am I your emergency rations now?” Jangil led her to the car, letting her shuffle inside before he got into the driver’s seat, “I didn’t sign up for that. We agreed only to do that in bed.”

“Shut up,” Myron bonked Jangil with her cane before retracting it and letting it hang off her wrist, “Horny jail.”

“You’d have to catch me first,” Jangil turned his nose up, his eyes focused on the road ahead, “Next up, the ferry terminal to pick up the other cranky girlfriend.”

#korean shifters #splintered selves #chaotic bristles

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sukirichi · 3 years

Text

good girl (m.)

You’re such a good wife to Naoya that he rewards you for your obedience.

request. naoya coming home to his beloved little housewife and feels like giving her a treat for being such a good girl.,,.,, read: man’s gonna re-arrange your guts and have some soft moments with you after (not that he would ever admit that shsghshsj)

cw. explicit smut, riding, dirty talk WITH praising bcos why not, dom! husband naoya, sexism, overstimulation, creampie, lots of kissing, titty sucking, you might end up liking naoya and that’s a warning

note. LISTEN. this is purely self indulgent even if this is a request. my bestie requested this to me anyway so ik she won’t mind i pictured myself as the reader :) so if you don’t like how the reader and naoya was portrayed, that’s a you problem :) EDITED BECAUSE IT’S NAOYA YAY, also got inspired by @caizen ‘s ask about naoya wanting his wife to not bow too deep because he wants to see her face :)

[part of the trophy wife collection]

Being Naoya Zen’in’s trophy wife required a lot of things. You had to be immaculate, précised, refined and full of dignity in everything you did. He already did the work all by himself just to keep the house running, his hard work the only reason you were able to live such a comfortable, luxurious life. On top of that, you had an extremely powerful man trusting you to welcome him every night, and who were you to not fulfill your duty as his wife well?

The moment the black limousine parked on the driveway, the guards lined on duty opening the doors of him and the rest of the house staff greeting him, you were already in front of everyone.

Keep your head down, but don’t look too hard at your feet. Naoya-sama wants to see your face – his lovely wife’s face – upon his arrival.

He would never say it out loud, but five years and counting of marriage with him meant you knew him better than anyone. Through his confident and arrogant self, Naoya worried about a lot of things, you included. There were times he’d wake up in the middle of a nightmare in which he lost you, his arms scrambling to find your body to press it against his for reassurance. You were there, you would always be there, but the confirmation never hurt.

You bowed down to him, skin cleared, cheeks flushed, and lips glossy – all telltales of a happy, nurtured wife who was well taken care of – present before him. And you were beautiful too; the most gorgeous woman he’d ever laid his eyes on.

“Welcome home, Naoya-sama.”

Naoya’s shoulders immediately relaxed at the sight of you dressed in your yukata, hair done perfectly and hands clasped politely in your lap. He tried not to let it show too much though, even though his staff had watched him grow up, he needed to keep his pride as the clan leader. Not even his precious wife could make him tear down his walls in public, though you did not need to worry about his brash attitude, following him inside three steps behind as he’d instructed.

He loosened his tie and dismissed the other servants, locking the door of your shared room. “Is my tea prepared?”

“Yes, Naoya-sama, mixed with jasmine just as you like.”

Naoya’s hands stilled on his tie. His gaze fluttered over yours, eyes still ducked down to the floor with a small smile playing on your lips, one that said welcome home in more ways than one.

The sight of you – so compliant and meek as ever – stirred something deep within his heart. His whole life, he believed women were useless, creatures that were below him. Until now, he held firm in that, but fuck, you were always so open and willing to do everything he asked that he could feel himself hardening in his pants. Women may be useless, but once they followed his orders and praised him so heavenly the way you did?

He fucking loved it.

Naoya’s tie went flying the other room, his cock swelling in his pants as he tugged you by your wrist. You landed on the mattress behind you, watching with a heaving chest as your husband crawled above you. His gaze felt predatory, dark eyes hooded with lust while he planted his knees beside your waist, his fingers looped with yours.

You smiled sweetly up at him, so temptingly sweet his resolve broke for a split second. He captured your lips to taste you on him, the sounds of your husband’s satisfied hum making your chest puff out with pride.

Everyone may look down on you for marrying such a ‘horrible’ man like him, calling you stupid and immoral, even going as far as claiming you were nothing but a dumb cock-hungry slut, but Naoya – even you – knew better. You were not foolish; in fact, no one could handle Naoya’s attitude better than you did, and you were smart enough to keep buying that strawberry flavored lip balm he loved so much, causing your husband to squeeze your palms.

“Good girl,” he mumbled absentmindedly, the praises shooting heat flush to your core. “You’re so good for me, you know that?” he peppered kisses all over your skin, a gesture so rare that you were panting underneath him, resisting the urge to rub your legs together.

Naoya was extremely skillful in bed, his virility as a man not to be looked down on for his ability to render you immobile to walk, throat sore and voiceless for a few days truly impressive. But he was different today; his usual tight grip the same but laced with a want that went beyond than lust. You could never say it out loud, especially not around him, but it was clear – Naoya treated you with affection and care.

“I’m very lucky to have found such a submissive woman like you, but that’s not true is it? Women like you aren’t found, you’re trained,” he harshly tugged the first layers of your yukata to the side, exposing the sensitive flesh of your collarbone that was free for him to mark. “Have I trained you well, my wife?”

“Yes, Naoya-sama, trained me so good,” you rasped out, bringing your legs forward, only for it to bump against the sides of his waist.

Naoya sucked on your skin until he was sure he’d completely marked his territory, the grazing sensation of his teeth so erotic and passionate along with his clothed cock rubbing into your folds. His hand trailed down your waist, yanking the ties of your clothes apart. You gasped as he teasingly rubbed your clit, even going as far as to roll it between his strong fingers. “For you, ah, I’d do anything for you, Naoya-sama.”

“It’s my love when we’re in the sheets,” he corrected you, “When a woman knows her place and obeys me so well, a good girl like you deserves to be rewarded,” hearing your small whines at his words, Naoya chuckled at your skin. “Do you want that? Want me to make you feel good?”

“Yes, p-please, I need you,” you moaned wantonly, gathering the courage to lift your hips up and grind it against his erection. He surprised you by not pushing you away, so you kept going, slathering your wetness all over the front of his pants. “Fuck me, my love, please.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” Naoya smirked, standing up to rid himself of his pants and belt. You whined at the loss of contact and sat up on your elbows, legs spread wide open as you feasted on the delectable way he discarded his clothing one by one. His fat cock, red and flushed with pre-cum, slapped against his toned upper body.

You would’ve groaned at his bare beauty, but he’d already crawled on top of you once more, completely ridding you of the multiple layers of modest clothing you wore, revealing a redolent set of white lace.

Naoya narrowed his eyes at the nearly transparent thong, his hands cupping your seeping cunt with a low hum. “Is this for me? Did my pretty baby get dressed up for me?” you nodded eagerly, pathetically reaching upwards to wrap your arms around him. You were growing needy, soft yet desperate as your stuttered gasps hovered on his ear. “Were you thinking of me the whole time I was away for work?”

“I always think of you, my love,” you breathed out, “Your smile, your voice, your lips, your hands,” legs twitching, you dared run your knee to brush his forearm, the teasing and confident movement earning you a seductive, warning glare from your dominant husband. But oh – you were just starting to have your fun. “Your cock inside me.”

“Naughty little girl,” he snickered, grabbing your hand and shoving it deep inside your panties. That evoked a high-pitched moan from you as your nails grazed against your shaved pussy, Naoya’s smirk present the harder he pressed your palm on yourself. “Did you touch yourself? Pleasure yourself like this?” He was testing you, reminding you of his power and authority, trying to see if you would break his rules that he’d been so firm into fucking deep into your skull.

Naughty as you might be sometimes, you never forgot your place. You were daring, but never in your wildest dreams would you dare go against him. Not because you were plain weak and submissive, but simply because the thought of pleasing him more and feeding his ego was far more satisfying.

You shook your head, pitiable tears already shining through. “N-no, I would never. Only you can make me feel good, just you, mmh.”

Naoya groaned deep in his throat, satisfied at your answer. “You’re always so sweet for me,” he says, leaning over to knee your legs open wider. He situated himself between your body, slow and sensual in removing your bra and panties, the lacy material disappearing somewhere on the black marbled floors. You laid there, vulnerable and wanting, clutching at his biceps as he grinded his cock on your puffy folds. “Have I ever told you’re the perfect little wife? So fucking needy for me always, fuck. This pussy was made for me.”

“This pussy is yours,” you acquiesced, breathing hard when Naoya pulled away to peer at your body. He liked his wife to be healthy, strong and ready to carry his child whenever he wanted, and his hands squeezed your hips appreciatively.

“I exist purely to serve you, my love,” you vowed, “I have no other purpose than to make you feel good and love you. You’re my everything, the world and more.”

He’d looked at you with lust before, the desire pooling in his eyes always making you feel wanted, but this was different. Naoya would never let those cursed three words fall from his mouth, but it shone clearly in his eyes anyway. He gazed at your curves and dips so lovingly that your arousal peaked, slick coating his cock from where he was slowly teasing your cunt with his tip.

Unable to hold back any longer, Naoya flipped you over. Your breath knocked out from your chest at the sudden movement, his hands tugging at your wrist to pull you close to him. He leant back on the bed, kissing you feverishly all the while keeping you shaking on his thigh. Due to your wetness gushing, you slid down his muscular thigh, and you moaned at the contact. “As I should be,” Naoya nibbled at your lips, his harsh words contrasting the tenderness of his hold on you. “You’re nothing to me if you can’t even do something as simple as that.”

You nodded with no hesitation, fully accepting that you were purely his now – and you would honestly not have it otherwise.

Naoya helped you lift your hips up, shushing you with a slap on your ass when you stared at him nervously.

Every time Naoya fucked you, he was direct and simple. He preferred to have you on all fours where he could focus on his own pleasure, or sometimes he would rather cum upon seeing your fucked-out face, the image of your tongue lolled out while he fucked you on oblivion enough to make him nut right away.

But now he was guiding your arms around his neck, kissing the sides of your lips as if to answer your silent questions. “Sit on my cock, baby, I’ll reward you for your obedience tonight,” he said, his cock twitching as he directed your entrance right above his cock. Naoya slid you down, allowing you to feel inch by inch, thick vein upon one another – sliding inside you and stretching you out so good. You closed your eyes and pressed your forehead on his, teeth locked on your bottom lip as he bottomed out.

Fuck, you’d never felt so full.

However, Naoya wasn’t pleased. He clenched his jaw and tapped your bottom lip, scolding you with his mean glare. “Don’t hold back when you scream my name, you understand? Cherish this moment – I won’t always care about your pleasure. You should thank me for this.”

“I-I will!”

Torturous. That was how you would describe it. You had never been this close to him before; not in this position and angle. Each lift of your hips caused your hardened nipples to brush over his muscular chest, his attention sorely focused on the way you bounced on his cock.

Something about holding him this close felt so intimate, breaths tangled and moans shared, along with the pleasure delivered into your bodies with the way you were rolling your hips along his length.

“Still so fucking tight for me,” he said through gritted teeth, “I love this pussy so much, fuck, you’re mine. Just mine, all mine,” Naoya eventually lost it, hooking his arms under your armpits and feet flat on the bed. You kept screaming his name like a prayer, the worship falling from your lips like a broken record driving him to fuck into you faster. He’d had enough of your pace; he’d been good enough that now it was his turn to fuck you, and you were glad he did because his fast, brutal pace was so mind-numbing.

Naoya hitched you up higher until your chin rested above his hair, your breasts right at his mouth. He sucked and bit at the soft flesh angrily, grip so tight on your hips you were hissing from the pain. At the same time, it felt so fucking good unlike everything you’ve ever felt.

“My perfect fucking wife—a quiet, compliant wife is worth more than gold, baby. You’re my fucking treasure.”

Naoya thrusted hard and deep until the bed was creaking, mattress dipped from both your weight. The room felt so foggy with your lovemaking and you tightened around him, crying as he kept hitting that sensitive spot that had you seeing stars. “I’m c-coming!” you whined helplessly, hugging your husband deep to your chest while your fingers tugging at his hair. “Naoya, please!”

“Then come for me,” he nibbled at your ear, delivering another hard slap at your ass. “I’m allowing you to. Come. Make a mess around me.”

“Oh my gosh, ugh, fuck,” you came around him hard, your orgasm making you shake. He still wasn’t done, but his breathless murmurs of close, I’m so close had you holding him tighter, whispering dirty words in his ear to assist your husband into reaching his high. The oversensitivity of him plowing into you even after you came was too much, but you took it all like the good wife you were. Biting the protests down at your tongue, you rode him to meet his hips thrust by thrust, his balls snapping at your ass. “Mmmh, I love you, I love you. I-I love you.”

“As you should, baby. You’re supposed to love me,” Naoya devoured your mindless babbling by sliding his tongue inside your mouth, his hips stilling inside for a moment. Fingers clutching desperately to him, you shut your eyes tight, cunt dripping as Naoya spilled his seed deep inside you.

You kissed him one last time in refusal to let go, but Naoya wasn’t having any of it. He was very iffy every after sex that you had no choice but to pull away from him, wincing as he pulled out.

He stumbled into the bathroom afterwards while you laid there on the soiled sheets, weakly fisting the pillow beneath you. You were so fucked out, tired after a long day of managing everything he wanted you to take care of. To be fucked good by your husband…there was truly no better way of life.

Just as you were drifting off, you felt something damp sliding over your inner thighs. You blinked sleepily at a silent Naoya, sending him a small smile as he wiped both your cum away. He left the towel inside the bathroom before he came back, sliding his white shirt over your frame and tugging a fresh pair of his boxers to your legs. Aftercare with Naoya…while it wasn’t impossible, it also wasn’t a daily occurrence. Your heart kept fluttering inside your chest, that feeling blooming harder when he slid under the sheets beside you, his strong arms pulling you taut in his chest.

His skin remained mark free. You knew Naoya hated being marked; reminding you all the time he wanted to be flawless. You respected that and pressed a deep kiss on the spot above his heart instead, madly and hopelessly in love as you traced circles on his bare chest.

You could stay like this forever, in the warmth and safety of your husband’s arms, but you still had wifely duties to fulfill. Naoya had already done his, prompting you to lean up to trace kisses at his sharp jaw, sweet and docile as ever as you asked, “Naoya…how was work today?”

“Same as usual.”

That meant he didn’t want to talk about it, so you didn’t pry further.

“You need to rest and regain your strength so you can work hard again tomorrow,” you mumbled sleepily, “I’ve already planned your meals for the next week. We’re going plant-based for a while, you need it.”

Naoya remained silent. You would’ve assumed he’d fallen asleep if it wasn’t for his hand caressing your back in a manner so gentle that seemed so alien with him, the strangeness of it all intensified when you looked up at his face, only to see that he had already been studying your features a long time before. There was an unsettled frown on his face, one that you tried to smoothen away with the pads of your fingertips. “What’s wrong, my love?”

“Nothing’s wrong. I’ve already forgotten about all my worries. They don’t matter anymore,” he whispered, his voice way too soft. It fit the atmosphere, however, whatnot with the newfound intimacy that you basked in. Suddenly, Naoya cupped your cheek, utterly serious as he croaked out, “Baby.”

“Hmm.”

“Do you love me?”

You didn’t have to think twice about it. The answer would be – “Always and forever.”

However, Naoya wasn’t satisfied. He needed more, wanted to understand more, craved to find a logical reason behind your devotion to him.

“Why?” he demanded, “What is it about me you love so much?”

“Everything,” you confessed, the love so clear in your eyes that even for a small moment, Naoya felt like he understood now. “You’re perfect to me, Naoya. I’m glad you’re the one I’m spending my life with. I wouldn’t have had it any other way.”

“But why?”

“Because,” you giggled, “You’re handsome, you’re caring even if you don’t show it that much, you’re smart, ambitious, hardworking and the best husband I could ask for,” Naoya opened his lips, probably to ask a stupid why again, until you cut him off, silencing your odd husband with a kiss. Thankfully, Naoya gave in, relaxing at your touches. “Loving you is second nature to me. It’s not living if it’s not loving you.”

Although he didn’t – and would never say I love you – he had his own way of expressing it. He let you know that he shared the same stance at you, staring deep into your eyes while he cupped your cheek, surprisingly somber as he proudly said, “I made the right decision of marrying you.”

“I’m glad you don’t regret it.”

“I could never regret it,” he whispered back, but you had already fallen asleep. That night, you dreamt no more. There was no need to when everything you’ve ever wanted was already right there at your reach, and Naoya joined you long after, the faint linger of a loving kiss a husband only ever gave to his wife the last thing you felt before you faded off into dreamland.

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Perfect Imperfections.

Jeon Jungkook x OC

Genre : Arranged Marriage AU! Angst! Explicit Sexual Content.

Rating : 21+

Warnings : Ableism , Chronic disability. OC has limited use of her left leg, Emotional infidelity? Mild Cheating ( nothing very physical.. a kiss or so )

Summary : Marrying Jungkook is a mistake. Falling in love with him? Definitely the worst exercise in masochism .

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[ This is nothing but me indulging my love for writing bad cliches. That is it. Its literally a fest of cliche k drama tropes]

Chapter 1

After the accident, my life had become something of a stagnant pond.

Everyday began much the same.

The alarm, mild but not jarring. Not very shrill but definitely insistent, sweeping away any lingering traces of sleep. I blinked awake, cobwebs of exhaustion still marring my vision but a few deep breaths, a few more blinks and I was awake .

And now came the harder part.

Getting my legs to work.

It never got better, despite the many years that I’d spent in physiotherapy. All it really did was stop it from getting worse. Or maybe I’d just gotten used to the pain at this point.

Deep breaths helped. Sometimes.

But not today.

“Mrs Jeon?” The familiar voice made me jump a little.

“Sana...” I said, relieved. “ Could you come over? Seems like I’m going to need some help today.” I laughed nervously, gripping the sheets harder.” Could you help me sit up?”

The girl moved closer, feet nimble and quick and sure and i felt my throat clench in envy. I swallowed it down though, just the way I swallowed every bad thing that came my way.

It had been eight years ago.

A fall from a fifty feet ravine. Cuts and scrapes all over my body, abrasions all over my torso. And legs that had absolutely shattered on impact. Multiple fractures. Motor Nerve Damage on my left leg.

The skin stitched together. The bones grew back.

But the nerve damage stayed.

I wasn’t completely helpless. I could walk with the brace. Slowly and with a mildly awkward gait but I could walk. Even better if I was using crutches.

But it wasn’t something I could hide.

People looked at me and that was the first thing that they noticed.

The girl who couldn’t walk.

I sat still, gripping the edge of the bed as Sana carefully grabbed the brace and helped me put it on. I watched as she carefully set the loops in place, fixed the velcro and finally helped set my toes in place.

“Thank you.” i whispered and she nodded.

“Mr. Jeon left early. He said that he won’t be home tonight.”

I smiled a little.

“I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to be caught between us. It must make you feel uncomfortable.” I said .

She looked surprised but quickly ducked her head

“No, Mrs. Jeon.”

I sighed.

“You may leave. I’ll come down soon.” I said quietly.

How handsome he looked, in that beautiful dark suit. How strong and handsome and ...whole.

Right next to a framed article about us from a magazine.

Jungkook ran marathons and trained as a boxer. He worked as the managing director at a steel manufacturing unit . Spent his days overseeing workers in the smelting units, and everyone knew that it wasn’t uncommon to see the Jeon heir, shirtless and sweaty and covered in dirt and getting down and dirty with all the other workers as the ore got delivered.

Someone like that... Someone that perfect.... Deserved a woman who would be an equal. Beautiful and graceful and perfect. And he had had her. My sister. For three years, I’d watched my sister and Jungkook be the perfect couple . Deeply in love and so happy.

I watched her leave, gently closing the door behind her, before shifting my gaze to the large portrait on the opposite side of the wall. It was a picture of my husband and I taken on the day we got betrothed.

What they hadn’t counted on was how greedy our parents could be.

Jungkook was the younger son. And his father had long written him off as unreliable. He was wild and headstrong. Had his own ideals and morals. Wouldn’t really bend to his father’s will. So his brother was the one who would be set to inherit the company.

And my father , with his billion dollar empire wasn’t going to give away his precious daughter and all of her inheritance to a paltry second son.

Jungkook’s brother had married my sister. And Jungkook had been forced to marry me. A comedy of errors , except it wasn’t really funny and no one was laughing.

I swallowed. That was seven months ago. The first few weeks had gone in stony silence and hushed whispers. I knew he was talking to my sister. Knew she was sobbing in despair on the other end. My sister and I had never gotten along. And now, she had a genuine reason to despise me.

Three months into marriage he had a small accident at the Manufacturing Unit.A small fall, not that far. Ten feet or so, but he’d crashed into a steel structure on his way down. He had a dislocated shoulder and some flesh wounds. Not that bad.

But my entire body had gone ice cold at the news, when i first heard it.

It was a brutal sort of realization.

That perhaps I wasn’t as indifferent to him as he was to me. Six weeks, with him had changed things. He didn’t talk much, other than the bare minimum but I didn’t hold it against him. I helped him anyway I could. Typed out emails for him. Helped him eat and change.

Hands brushing and time spent together meant tension. And a shift in the way he looked at me, sometimes. I noticed, wasn’t sure if I could act on it. But he was still my husband. And I didn’t really want to spend the rest of my life celibate.

So, even though it was so unlike me... I’d made the first move. Linked my fingers with his. Brushed my lips across his. A gesture that meant a hundred things. A touch that invited more. And he must’ve wanted it, at least physically. Because he indulged me. Gave me a glimpse of heaven on his bed.

And yet, six weeks of being as close as two humans could be didn’t change much.

We were strangers who slept together. Who appeared in public together. Who did everything our family expected of us. And I wasn’t sure how to bridge that awkward gap between us. Jungkook was a fiercely physical person. His free time was spent in the gym , or cycling or hiking.

I couldn’t walk across the room without having to grip the walls for support every few minutes.

Could anyone blame him for being bitter? For being distant? For not knowing what to do with me?

And in all this time , I’d only learnt a handful of things about my husband. How he felt on top of me. How he sounded when he came, how he looked eyebrows furrowed as he talked into his phone and of course, how little he cared about me.

Yes, we would have sex. Yes, he bought me a couple of gifts when he was overseas. But otherwise his heart belonged to my sister. It wasn’t something he hid.

As the days passed, I realized that it was time to keep myself safe. That I couldn’t show him all of me anymore. He was careful with me, guarded and secretive because he was smart. He didn’t want me to know anything about him.

There was a reason. There had to be.

So the best thing to do would be to do the same. Build that distance between us. This was going to crash and burn someday and I had to

And the past few weeks, he’d been busy with more deals. Some kind of MoU with some supplier had gone south and they were looking for different suppliers. Jungkook was busy. I hadn’t seen him in ten days.

And now apparently he had come home and left without so much as seeing me.

Sighing, I moved to the garden, walking slowly to the marble bench set under the large sweetgum tree. I settled down , sighing. I ran a palm over my belly, soft and hesitant.

I was two and half months along. It didn’t show...thanks to the oversized clothes I wore. But it wasn’t the kind of thing you could hide forever. I wasn’t sure why I started hiding it in the first place. It was just that.... I knew that no one would be happy for me. My family would be ecstatic but for the wrong reasons.

I could already imagine .

Finally. Now he can’t leave you.

I felt sick to my stomach at the thought of it. At the thought of someone talking about my baby like some sort of handcuff to lock Jungkook in.

I would have to tell him. Of course. But I didn’t know when or how . I didn’t want to hide it from him. There was no point. But ... I wasn’t quite sure i wanted to see that look of helpless disappointment in his face.

The sound of his car drew me out of my reverie and I startled, glancing over at the wide driveway. I glanced at the time . It was a little past eleven in the morning. What was he doing here?

“Leah! Get inside!” Jungkook’s voice rang out and I jumped.

“Jungkook?” I stared as he all but jumped out of the car rushing to me.

“Come on.. get up.”

“What’s going on..?” I asked, heart pounding as he gripped my elbow, drawing me into his arms.

“Dad fucked up. Got mixed with some shady bastards and apparently, they’ve put a hit out on me and hyung.”

My heart dropped.

“What?!!” I choked out, stunned. “ Jungkook...” My fingers curled over his chest, clutching the

“Don’t worry... we know who it is and we have guys of our own. They’ll take care of it. No one comes for a Jeon and lives to tell the tale. I just wanted to make sure you stayed in. Don’t go anywhere. there are guards all over the place. but i want you to stay home. Okay? Just till this blows over?”

I flinched, legs aching fierce as he led me up the stairs and he stared at me, eyes dripping with worry. The look was so foreign....so unlike the indifference I was used to that I could only stare.

“Are you alright?” He asked urgently and I nodded quickly, hands curving over my stomach instinctively.

“You’ll stay here right? With me...?” I asked softly and Jungkook hesitated.

“I... I need to go check on Lisa.” He said stiltedly and I froze at my sister’s name.

“She’s with her husband, right?” I asked sharply, anger building out of pure fear. “ Why do you-”

“Don’t question me. Go in. Now.” He said quickly and I frowned.

“You don’t have to go there. She has a husband of her own.” I said quietly, voice shaking.

“I have to. I... I have to just go make sure she’s alright.” He snapped angrily and I curled my fingers into fists.

Apparently, even when there was a very real threat to our lives, he would rather risk my life and his than let go of his obsession for my sister. i wanted to vomit. My skin felt clammy and my heart raced. I imagined him doing this when we had a kid....risking our child because he can’t stop thinking of her.... And he would do it..... Of course he would.

“Then go.” i snapped, tears filling my eyes . I yanked my arm out of his, stumbling a bit.

Jungkook looked shocked.

“Leah...” He reached for me but I pulled back and away.

“Go to her and don’t you dare come back here.” I screamed. Jungkook stiffened.

“Leah... enough.”

“You’re right. I’ve had enough . Of your dirty pining. Of you. She’s married for god’s sake. To your brother. They’re together. Its over and done with. Why can’t you just accept it and move on?!!” I choked out. My chest hurt.

“You knew I loved her when you married me.” He snapped back and I laughed in disbelief.

“Yes. And you knew I’d break someday. That I’d someday have enough of you treating me like I was disposable. Isn’t that why you kept at it for so long? You wanted me to be the one break things off right? So you could get out of your father’s anger...unscathed. Well, guess what. You got your wish.... I’m done!! “

He didn’t reply.

“Go inside. I have to go.” He said softly.

I watched as he turned on his heel and stalked back down the driveway.

Was it supposed to hurt this bad? My heart felt a bit like it was cleaving in two. Had I really just told him I had enough? What did that mean? Was I going to leave him? I felt my head spin , worry and fear laced with disbelief.

Someone was out to kill him? How could he be so flippant about it?

I shook my head. The Jeon’s were a weird bunch. Although they were one of the richest families in our society, they lacked any of the charming social graces that came with it. For years, everyone had kept them at arm’s length because while all other families had aristocratic roots and beginnings, the Jeon’s came from a background of mining iron ore and making steel : a rugged and dirty business.

The only reason my father had agreed to

And was I really going to leave him? where did I even begin? I couldn’t leave. I had no home to go to. My parents would take one look at me and send me back to Jungkook. I felt like a prize fool. I was stuck here. For eternity. That was all there was to it.

A decade ago, I’d had a future. But that evening on that mountain trail had changed my life forever. I was , for all intents and purposes disabled. I couldn’t just walk out of here and build a life for myself. I wouldn’t last a day.

I dragged myself to the living space, stopping when i saw how deserted the place looked.

There were usually people bustling about. Especially so close to lunch.

“Sana!!!” I called out, only to be met with the echoing silence of my own voice. And then a few seconds later she appeared ,

“Mrs. Jeon.... Is Mr. Jeon here?”

“He just left... Is everything okay?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Where is everyone? Are all of you busy?” I asked nervously.

She bowed. “ Yes, ma’am.... The rest of us are cleaning out the pantry and Cook’s in the kitchen. Seul and Leejin are out in the backyard cleaning the statues near the koi pond. Mr. Jeon’s asked all the footmen and guards to stay around the perimeter. Will you need anything else?

“No... I’ll just rest till lunch.” I said gently, waving her off.

She left.

The eerie silence that followed told me there was nothing to do but embrace the loneliness and I hesitated, moving slowly to the window and peering out. I couldn’t see any of the guards either.

My fingers shook a little as I moved slowly to the entryway that led into the dining space. It was dark in here, the light from outside only illuminating the west wall which had large windows set in. I moved to the windows and stared out into the Jeon estate.

Although Jungkook was the younger brother, he had been taxed with maintaining and caring for the family estate. Not because his father trusted him but because the old man knew just how much Jungkook hated the place.

I played with my wedding ring as i remembered the countless times I’d watched the two of them fight, Jungkook coldly still while his father hurled abuses at him. Jeon Jaesook considered his son to be incompetent and disobedient, which made little to no sense to me.

As far as i knew Jungkook had helped increase production and had cut down operating costs significantly over the seven years that he’d been working as the managing Director at Jeon Steelworks.

But it was obvious the old man favored Jihyun, Jungkook’s older brother. Jihyun worked in the air conditioned offices located in Gangnam, the CEO taking care of all their sales and marketing while Jungkook , who had an actual degree in Business spent his days slaving away at the smelting Units, a job that was physically and mentally exhausting.

And while it always made my stomach twist, this unfair treatment he got subjected to, there wasn’t much i could do. My father had made it clear that he wouldn’t agree to the investment, unless both his daughters married the Jeon brothers. And Jungkook’s father had made it clear that if Jungkook didn’t agree , he would be out on the streets without a penny to his name.

My leg began aching and I turned back around ready to go settle into my workroom where I usually worked on my writing when I heard his footsteps. I glanced up, frowning.

Jungkook stood in the doorway staring at me with an unreadable expression on his face.

I stared at him for a few seconds, waiting for him to say something.

When he didn’t, I sighed.

“Did you think I was going to leave?” I asked bitterly.

He sighed.

“I’m not going to cheat on you. “

I nodded.

“I suppose you want me to thank you for that?” I shook my head. “ You don’t have to keep your worthless vows. Go sleep with her. Why would it make a difference to me?”

He exhaled sharply.

“I thought you understood.” He said sharply.

“I did. I do.” I said curtly “ I understand that my parents screwed the two of you over. I understand that you had to do something you absolutely did not want to. But there’s something you need to understand too. Just because I’ve accepted this, it doesn’t mean I enjoy it. It doesn’t mean I have to be happy about my husband being in love with another woman, much less my own sister.”

Jungkook nodded.

“Right. Got it. “ He said curtly and I flinched when another muscle twitch told me I’d been standing for too long.

“I’m going to go lay down.”

“Do you need me to get you a heating pad? For the leg? Or send one of the girls to massage your legs?” He asked softly, stepping closer and lightly gripping my elbow when my knees buckled.

I didn’t have much choice than to grip his forearm, because the pain was intensifying from pins and needles to proper muscle spasms. Sweat began to bead on my upper lip and i felt just a little faint.

“Yes. “ I said , feeling pathetic. I should have used the crutches. It had been a bad day even when I woke up. I should have sensed it and taken the proper measures.

“Leah... Should I run a warm bath for you? “ Jungkook's lips brushed my ear when he leaned to hold my weight up and i stiffened.

“That won’t be necessary. I just need help back up to the bed, thank you.” I said shortly. He looked uncertain and shook his head.

“ okay, but I’ll get Sana to run you a warm bath and make you some willowbark Tea.” He said quietly, and when I stumbled a bit on the first step he swore.

“This isn’t going to work.... Come here.” He said gruffly and before I could protest he bent low, gripping the back of my knees and pulling me up into his arms.

i swallowed, head spinning as I cradled the curve of my lower belly.

Tell him... Tell him... Tell him...

I felt my head throb as I kept my arms wrapped tight around his shoulders.

“I’m pregnant .” i blurted out.

Jungkook stumbled , nearly sending the both of us tumbling down the flight of stairs and i clung to him in terror. Okay, maybe the timing could have been better.

“What?” He looked ashen. Like he’d seen an actual ghost.

“Just thought you should know.” I muttered under my breath.

We reached the landing and he didn’t say anything, looking away from me, his jaw taut and lips set in a thin line. I felt my throat go sandpaper dry. He waited till we were safely in the confines of our bedroom, placing me down on the bed gently and moving to close the door and lock it.

I stared up at the ceiling, refusing to look at his face.

“ Leah-”

“Its fine. You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t know till a week ago myself.”

Silence.

“Have you told your parents?”

I exhaled sharply.

“No.”

“Mine?”

“No...”

“Then would you consider.... “ He trailed off and i finally stared at him.

“No.” I said softly.

He sighed.

“Alright. Should I book an appointment with Dr. Lee?”

I laughed.

“How very practical of you..” i said.

“What else do you expect from me..”

“Not even an ounce of support, that’s for sure.” I snapped and he growled.

“You want me to lie? Fine.. I’m happy!! So fucking happy that we’re bringing an innocent kid into our fucked up family. ” He shouted.

This was why I didn’t want to tell him, I thought bitterly.

“You’re the only one who’s fucked up, Jungkook. I’m perfectly fine with myself and my choices. I can give my baby all the stability they might ever need.”

“ That’s not hat I'm talking about. do you know what its like to grow up with parents who can’t stand each other?” Jungkook shouted.

I gaped at him. Can’t stand each other? Is that how he saw us?

“As long as you don’t walk out on us, we’ll be fine.” I muttered despondently.

“ Don’t worry about that. I’m not going to run away from my responsibilities. ” He said quietly.

I finally turned to look at him, placing both my hands on my stomach.

“Do you want me to leave you?” I asked honestly.” Have you ever thought about it?”

He didn’t say anything.

“So you have.” I smiled sadly. It wasn’t surprising but it did hurt.

“Of course I have. You’re Lisa’s sister and Lisa is my... “ He paused, shaking his head, “ But, I know you can’t. I don’t expect you to either.” He said gruffly, grabbing the intercom.

I watched as he called the housekeeper, firing off instruction for Sana and then to the cook to send some tea for me. He hung up and turned to me again.

“Lisa and I are going to go to Japan for a week. She has a conference there and I’m going to scout for locations just in case we open up a distribution office there.”

I turned away.

“ You don’t have to tell me all that. You didn’t before, i don’t want you to start now.” I said firmly.

He didn’t reply and i turned back to stare at the ceiling.

Jungkook hovered for a few seconds before moving closer to the bed and grabbing the comforter and a couple of pillows. I felt a lump in my throat as he carefully picked my leg up, placing the pillows underneath. i was almost numb from the thigh down.

i closed my eyes as he carefully pulled the comforter over my waist, folding it over my chest.

“Rest well.” He said quietly before walking away. i heard the door opening and then closing.

i waited till I heard his footsteps fades away before opening my eyes and staring at the ceiling.

I should probably put some paintings up there, I thought.

Author’s Note : This entire fic can be summed up as me not having any self control.

#jungkook arranged marriage #bts arranged marriage #bts fic #bts arranged marriage fic #bts smut #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkok fanfics #bts famnfics #bts fanfics

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something-fanfiction-ie · 4 years

Text

The Years

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: *SMUT* So you embarrass yourself in front of Derek and Spencer, the details of the case are mentioned and are a little intense, and smut. Like, rough, Spencer smut because there is nothing you can say that could convince me that Spencer Reid is a bottom. And swearing.

A/N: AH THE ENDING PROBABLY SUCKS BUT I TRIED REALLY HARD I PROMISE. Also, this is ridiculously long and not all of it is smut. For a hot second this WAS an OC story but I thought you guys would enjoy a self-insert more so I changed it. LOTS AND LOTS OF THANKS TO MY FAV FIC WRITER AND NEW TUMBLR FRIENDS, @reidmorefanfics and @pomsephone Y’all are the best. Also, remember to shower me in reblogs, comments, asks, messages, likes, and anything else you can think of to boost my ego. I LOVE YOU SO MUCH AND THANK YOU GUYS FOR READING!!!

___

“Actually, that reminds me of a joke that I know.” At the front of the crowded lecture hall, a young Dr. Spencer Reid looks over at his partner eagerly, a smile already splitting his lips apart. Derek Morgan, however, looks over at his partner with a mixture of fear and secondhand embarrassment.

“Reid, I don’t think-” Morgan tries to save him, he really does, but Reid tucks his hair behind his ears and ignores him by starting the joke.

“Einstein, Heisenberg, Newton, and Pascal are playing hide and seek. Einstein covers his eyes and begins counting. While Heisenberg and Pascal run off and hide, Newton takes out some chalk and marks a square on the ground with a side length of exactly 1 meter, then sits down inside the square. When Einstein is finished counting and sees Newton sitting on the ground, he yells, "Ha, I've found you, Newton!". Newton however replies, "No you haven't! You've found Pascal!’”

A short, surprised laugh joins Spencer’s small chuckles, dragging his eyes to the location the sound had come from. Derek looks too, completely taken aback that anyone other than Reid had actually understood the joke. Yet, lo and behold, a young girl sitting in the front row with her cheeks stoplight red and her hand nervously covering her mouth.

Proudly, Spencer nods for Morgan to end the talk, his chest a little puffed out and a smug smile twitching at his lips. They wrap things up quickly, eager to grab some food after leaving campus and before heading back to the BAU.

When Spencer turns to gather his things, grabbing his bag, he notices the soft shuffle of feet against the hardwood flooring of the stage. A pair of black converse peek into his peripheral vision, attached to a pair of long legs that make Spencer blush for noticing at all. Lifting his eyes further, he meets the shy gaze of the only person who had laughed at his joke. It came as no surprise when he sees that your tee shirt had a picture of a cat with the words ‘Wanted: Dead and Alive’ in block lettering.

“Dr. Reid,” Your left hand comes up to push a stray lock of hair away from your face, a single gold band wrapped around your left index finger, “I’m (Y/N) (Y/L/N). I just, uhm, I had a couple questions?”

Looping the strap of his bag over his head and letting the familiar weight of it settle against his hip before he responds, Spencer ignores the way Derek looks at him by pretending he isn’t there at all.

“Of course,” Spencer meets your eyes, which are a beautiful shade of (y/e/c). “I like the shirt by the way. I’m not usually much of a t-shirt person, but I might wear one like that.” You laugh, shifting on your feet and twisting the ring on your finger.

“Thank you, I got it as a Christmas present. Along with ten billion other nerdy t-shirts. But uhm, I was curious how old you were when you joined the FBI?” Morgan holds his tongue, pretending to shuffle papers around and not pay attention to the poor girl’s crush.

“I was twenty-two. I finished two of my doctorates the year prior.”

“I thought you had to be twenty-three? I’ve always wanted to join the FBI as soon as I could but I thought I had a little more time. That’s what I read anyways. I could be wrong, you would know more than I do.” You looked down at your shoes, kicking the toe of one converse into the wood, your hair falling forward over your shoulders.

“No, you’re right. I had an age waiver. You’re eighteen? Nineteen? You’ve still got some time to prepare.”

“I’m seventeen, actually.” Your lips skewed to the side, the confession barely above a whisper as you continued to stare at your feet. Spencer blanched, unable to contain his surprise. He was quick to school his features, though, when you finally looked back at him.

“You’re seventeen and you understood his joke?” Morgan couldn’t help but cut in now, stepping away from the table he’d been pushing papers around on and toward the two younger people left in the room.

“A pascal is a unit of measurement equal to one Newton per square meter. By sitting in a square meter, Newton was being one newton per square meter. Which is, again, equal to a pascal. So he was Pascal.” A smile had worked it’s way past the nerves that jumped around your body. You weren’t very used to talking to young, attractive, intelligent doctors who worked for the FBI.

“Although, even if I hadn’t understood the science behind the joke I might have still laughed. You see, there is this thing called the Halo Effect, which is basically a cognitive bias you might develop based on your initial impression of someone that can change how you feel about their specific traits. Essentially, one example would be that someone you find attractive may seem funnier or more intelligent simply because you find them attractive.”

It takes all of a second for your face to turn beat red as you realizes your nervous ramblings have made you reveal the silly crush you had started to develop on the young doctor. Derek’s lips purse in amusement when he sees the similar shade of red that has colored his partner’s cheeks.

“Not that I’m saying I find you attractive,” Your heart stops cold in your chest and you are quick to retract the statement. “Not to say you’re ugly either, because that’s not what I’m trying to say at all. Just that my first impression of you as a nice and attr- I mean, intelligent man could have very well made my amusement slightly biased because I was more willing to like you based solely on my first impression of you. Which was that you are very nice and, and intelligent.”

It takes all the willpower in the world for you not to throw yourself down the stairwell later that day, the embarrassment having barely faded even hours later. The two men had been quick to assure you they knew you weren’t saying you had a crush on Dr. Reid, but they were obviously just trying to protect your feelings. They wouldn’t be FBI Profilers if they couldn’t tell you had a crush on him. The conversation was pretty much over after that, you being suddenly desperate to make an escape and Dr. Reid just as eager to leave the campus grounds.

The whole team teased him about his teenage fan for months after it happened, Derek had been quick to let everyone know when they came back. Reid had tried to hide from them by scrunching down into his seat and covering his face with a book, but it hadn’t helped him at all.

Eventually though, both you and Spencer were able to move on from the embarrassing moment, though neither of you forgot it. Those moments where you’re all alone and the most embarrassing moments of your life come to creep up and embarrass you all over again? The memory always came back during those moments.

The team, however, seemed to forget about it, Gideon and Elle leaving and Rossi and Prentiss replacing them as the years faded the memory for them.

It wasn’t until JJ took her new position at the Pentagon and Ashley left after her brief consultation on the case in New Mexico that the memory came back to truly haunt you both.

The whole team had heard whispers of a ‘probationary agent’ that would be stepping in to assist wherever needed. Hotch was good at keeping quiet and avoiding questions on the matter, somehow keeping Penelope just as much out of the loop as the rest of the team.

No one was even sure when the new agent was supposed to be coming until the glass doors to the BAU opened and in stepped a young woman with (y/h/c) hair and (y/e/c) eyes. Derek squinted his eyes, your face tickling the back of his memory in a way that annoyed him. Spencer tensed, his eidetic memory quick to remind him of the seventeen year old girl that had basically confessed she thought he was cute, and then called him ‘not ugly’ to try and cover her tracks.

“Agent (Y/L/N), nice to finally meet you.” Hotch said, holding the door open as you nodded your thanks and slipped inside his office with a box in your arms.

“That must be the probationary agent.” Prentiss directed the comment at Reid, oblivious to the resurfaced embarrassment that boiled his cheeks to that same shade of red he’d been in that lecture hall seven years ago. He kept his book up in front of his face while he tried to cool his cheeks, looking over the top of the binding and into Hotch’s window.

You’re sitting ram-rod straight in the seat in front of Hotch’s desk that is closest to the door, your box of things clutched tightly in your white-knuckled hands. Your hair is still the same length, swaying at your shoulders. You’ve switched the Schrödinger’s cat shirt for a deep velvet red dress shirt with the sleeves rolled at your elbows.

But even with the obvious nerves displayed in your current body language, it’s easy to see you aren’t the same stuttering seventeen year old Reid remembers. You holds steady eye contact with Hotch, nodding and fluidly responding in such a way that the usually stoic unit chief actually breaks into a grin that dimples his cheeks. When he stretches over his desk for a handshake, your left hand comes up and grips Hotch’s firmly.

“I’m glad it’s a girl, it was starting to feel a little too testosteronie around here with JJ gone.” Garcia had made her way into the bullpen, a cup of tea balanced in her bejeweled fingers as she, and the rest of the team, size up the girl heading for Hotch’s door.

“I don’t think ‘testosteronie’ is a word, baby girl.” Derek teases, trying to ignore the nagging feelings that he knows this girl from somewhere. Maybe they’d met on a case? But no, that doesn’t feel right.

“It is now, Derek. Don’t argue with me or I’ll have to punish you.” She brings the lip of her cup up, sipping at the lukewarm tea still inside and patting Morgan’s cheek with her free hand. Hotch’s door finally opens again and you step out after Aaron.

A hush falls over the room, all eyes trained to the newest and now youngest member of the team.

“We’ll do introductions on the plane, for now I need everyone in the conference room for a case.” Hotch is quick to make eye contact with everyone, his gaze stern and demanding.

Spencer is the last one into the room, practically dragging his feet to one of the chairs around the circle table. Thankfully, you were sitting across the table. Somehow you haven’t seemed to notice him.

“Yesterday Dawes County police found the body of Julia Hastings along a hiking trail in Kladon. This is the second body they have found in the area in two weeks, the first belonging to Heather Greenaway. Both victims are in their early to mid twenties. Hands and feet bound, buried face down. Each victim was struck once in the back of the head, making cause of death blunt force trauma.”

From your spot at the table, you glance up with narrowed eyes as you open the file you’d been given at the beginning of the meeting.

“Where did they disappear from?” Reid asks, a connection forming in his brain as each picture and detail flies up from Garcia’s tablet and onto the projected pictures before them.

“Night clubs around the area, they were working on the night they each went missing. Both girls were bartenders, had been working at their new jobs a week before they were kidnapped.”

“Justin Millers had the same M.O., kidnapping new female bartenders fitting this exact victimology and holding them hostage for a course of five days, beating and raping them before eventually hitting them on the back of the head with a tire iron.” You don’t look up from the file as you speak, flipping through the pictures and quickly noticing the small odd similarities in the victims between this case and Millers’ case.

“Millers has been locked away for a year and a half.” Derek pointed out, using the opportunity to stare at the face of the girl he was sure he knew but still couldn’t place. When you look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed in a way that reminds him of Reid and your head tilted just a little to the side, he can feel his brain grab onto the memory just before it slips back through his fingers.

“I’d guess a copycat. Something seems different, I just can’t put my finger on it.” Your gaze slides over the table, looking at faces to get a gauge of their opinions on you. When you make eye contact with Reid, your eyes widen just a little before you duck your head. You should have known he was still here at the BAU, you’d only hoped he’d went to another unit out of desperation for this job.

“We’ll look into that theory, for now I just want a profile as if this unsub is working from his own killing preferences. We’ll discuss more on the way there. Wheels up in thirty.” Hotch stands, flipping the cover over the top of his iPad before making his way out of the room. Go bags are grabbed, certain persons avoid bumping into other certain persons, and then the eight hour plane ride to Kladon, Nebraska begins.

“(Y/N) (Y/L/N).” Emily tests the name on her lips, having chosen to move by the younger girl after the fourty five minute theory discussion that started the plane ride.

“You can call me (Y/N/N), that’s what my best friend calls me.” You had popped the first two buttons open of your dress shirt and slipped your shoes off to tuck your feet underneath you. Tucked between your thigh and the arm of the seat is a book with a Greek title, in your hands is the open case file.

“Just your best friend?” Rossi asks from across the way, just as curious about the new girl as the rest of them, but a little better at hiding it.

“She’s really my only friend.” You shrug, but not in such a way that you seem bothered by the fact. You reach up to push a strand of hair behind your ear. Reid notices the gold ring that still circles your left index finger, light coming from the window glinting off the metal when you move. It’s the only jewelry you wears.

“A bit of a loner?” Derek joins the conversation, moving up the aisle of the jet with a cup of something hot cradled in his hands. He takes the seat directly in front of you, blowing at the liquid in his cup.

“I was more focused on getting through school than making friends. Emma just happened to be the only person who wouldn’t let me shake her.” There’s a smile on your lips as you talk about your best friend, your eyes soft.

“What did you go to college for?” Derek is fishing, looking for something to tell him where he knows you from. It amuses Reid, who has sequestered himself into a corner a little further away from you than everyone else.

“I have a masters in philosophy, with a focus in Ancient Greek philosophy. I have a bachelor’s in Greek, which is the only other living language I can speak and read outside of English, and I have two doctorates; one in Classic Studies and one in Criminology.” Rossi whistles, shaking his head and leaning back into his seat to express what everyone else is feeling.

“You young people just keep getting smarter and smarter. You know how many doctorates I had at your age? None. You know how many I have now?” You look at him with genuine curiosity, drinking in all the information you can about the people around you like it was a class you were taking to survive.

“None.” The laugh that bubbles from your lips is infectious and carefree, it pulls Reid’s attention away from his book and it drags Hotch from the constant state of worry that he mentally paces in. Emily, Derek, and Rossi all exchange looks before their own laughter fills the air. It’s nice.

The feeling reminds you of that scene in Mary Poppins where Dick Van Dyke and Ed Wynn laugh themselves into the ceiling. So light and carefree that it could lift them into the sky.

“Why all the attention on the Greek?” Prentiss manages when the laughter subsides, reaching down for the book the young doctor has tucked away. Η φόνισσα, it reads with a black and white picture of arms twisted to the side of the bookcover. You make no move to grab for it, letting the other woman flip through the pages.

“My father was a Greek Philosophy professor before he died, I suppose it’s my way of trying to stay close to him.” Prentiss looks up from the pages, a look of sympathy in her eyes.

“And your mother?” The change in your entire demeanor is like cold water on the conversation, freezing the group in their spots. You reach for the book, tucking it back into the space between your thigh and the seat.

“I don’t know.” It’s the only blatant lie you’ve told since they started talking to you, averting your eyes and shifting in your seat. No one presses the topic, giving the new girl the space you need.

You take the case file with you when you go to make a cup of coffee in the small kitchenette situated in the back of the plane. Reid is already back there, pouring a steady stream of sugar into the otherwise black liquid.

“Dr. Reid.” You nod your head in greeting, avoiding his eyes by setting your folder on the counter and pretending to read it. You’ve been going over every detail of the case for so long that you’ve memorized everything there is to know. There are notes and theories scribbled into the margins and little sticky notes with questions scattered around the papers.

“It helps to step away for a little bit, that way when we land you come back to it with fresh eyes.” The utensils drawer clicks shut as Reid grabs a spoon to stir his coffee, risking the chance to finally look at you.

You’re twisting the ring on your finger and chewing the inside of your cheek. Without your shoes on, the top of your head comes to his shoulders.

When you look up at him, (y/e/c) eyes thoughtful and just as curious as the day they met, Reid can’t fight the urge that draws his gaze to your lips. The skin there is so very soft looking, surprising him when the thought of kissing them hits him like a train.

He clears his throat, focusing all of his attention on the coffee cup in front of him. The sugar is completely stirred in at this point, but he kind of wants to stay in the hopes that you’ll strike up a conversation.

“But everyone is different so you don’t have to listen to me, just do whatever helps you.” His shoulders lift in a shrug and he’s glad that nobody is there to see him interact with this girl. They would know how he felt before he could even come to terms with it himself.

As quickly as you are there, you leave. Completely flustered and unsure how to go about navigating a relationship that’s foundation was an unintentional love confession. Maybe, you thought as you leaned into your seat and closed your eyes, if I just ignore him then everything will be fine.

By the time the jet touched down in Nebraska, you had fallen into a dead sleep with your book sitting open in your lap. Emily was the one to reach out and gently shake your shoulder, the smile on her face gentle and motherly. Still blinking away sleep, you quickly scrambled to grab your bag and book before rushing for the exit.

Unfortunately for you, the shoe laces on one of your shoes hadn’t been completely tied. Add that to the speed in which you were trying to separate yourself from Reid, and you managed to trip over your feet and right into the person you were trying to avoid.

Your bag hit the ground, the book following suit as a warm hand grabbed you by your upper arm and pulled. When you collided with someone’s chest, you didn’t have to look up to know who it was. Reid smelled like old books, laundry detergent, and cinnamon.

“Your shoe is untied.” He said, his voice rumbling in his chest. You didn’t look up, afraid the heat in your cheeks would give you away. You looked down instead, noticing the way your feet were inside the breadth of his stance. One shoe’s laces laid precariously around your foot as if mocking you. Quickly, you took a step away and almost tripped again on your bag. You caught yourself on one of the seats, holding a hand out to keep Reid from grabbing you again.

“Thank you, I’m okay. Really.” You didn’t meet his eyes, every lewd thought you’d had during that stupid lecture about his lips and hands and hair came rushing back at you with every glance. You wouldn’t be surprised if he could see each fantasy written on your face like a lusty, ten-cent romance novel.

Morgan, having stopped to watch the two doctors in your clearly flustered states, suddenly felt it click in his brain. Sure, you were older and not as squirrelly as he remembered, but the way you were looking at his partner was nearly the exact same as you had seven years ago.

Feeling smug for finally figuring it out, he walked up to Spencer with his bag thrown over his shoulder, stopping beside him as they both watched you rush for the exit.

“Can you imagine someone having a crush on you for seven years? Oh, wait.” Bending down to grab his bag, Spencer shook his head in such a way that a few loose curls tangled on his eyelashes. A simple sweep of his hand across his face helped to push it away.

“It took you long enough to figure it out.” Spencer took the lead, dreading the car ride with Derek to the medical examiners. He had been hoping his older partner wouldn’t remember who you were, at least, until the case was solved.

“Oh ho ho, don’t think you can avoid this conversation with insults, pretty boy.” Morgan was hot on his tail, and that was exactly where he stayed for the next three days that the team was in Nebraska.

The killer was, in fact, a massive fan of the infamous Justin Millers. It was just a matter of pinpointing which of the crazy fanatics he was, which might have been easier if the local populace was more open to talking to law enforcement.

It was by a brilliant stroke of luck, or rather misfortune, that the team realized sending you undercover would help on many different levels. Not only did you fit the victimology, (all they needed to do was get you a ‘job’ at one of the local bars) but you would also be able to get information from the civilians that were unwilling to talk to the FBI.

Four days into your undercover mission, you found yourself wiping down the counter after closing. The band was packing up their equipment on stage and your boss had already left. Laily, the only other bartender here tonight, was flirting with the drummer while you closed things up behind the counter.

As was customary, the members of your team had taken turns following you around everyday just in case anything happened. Today just so happened to be Spencer’s turn, you’d managed to slip him into the back room before all the customers had left for the night. It was the only reason you gave Laily the okay when she asked if you would be cool closing by yourself tonight.

“I can’t believe after five years of college, I’m back to bartending.” You grumbled, shouldering the backroom door open with a box full of beer in your hands. Spencer jumped up from the crate he’d been leaning against, holding the back of the door open so you could get in a little easier.

“You were a bartender before?” He asked curiously, trying to ignore the way the low-cut black uniform shirt you were wearing fit against your figure and twisted his insides. Factor in the tight jeans that hung on your hips and the sheen of sweat on your skin from the hot summer night and he could barely focus, let alone protect you from any possible threats.

“The years between my college graduation and my joining the FBI, yeah. I could have done something different, I guess, but I wanted to have a normal young adult job before I spent the rest of my life chasing serial killers and such.” You turned to face him, actually meeting his eyes for the first time this week.

Unlike you, he was wearing his FBI Kevlar. The navy blue tie that he wore was tucked into the top of it, the baby blue sleeves of his dress shirt were rolled up around his elbows. You, yourself, were having an awful time trying to keep from getting all kinds of flustered just looking at him.

The young profiler you remember was all wiry and clean cut, the man in front of you is more scraggly. His hair curls around his jawline and his forearms are far more attractive than anybody’s forearms ought to be.

His parents were just showing off, casually bringing a child into the world that looks like that.

“I don’t want things to be weird between us.” He blurted, surprising himself. You could tell by the way his brows dipped down and he took a step back immediately after saying it. Even his cheeks were a little pink.

“What happened between us was like seven years ago and all you did was tell me you had a crush on me. And then take it back. I just don’t want it to affect our work relationship because everyone already likes you a lot and I want to get the chance to like you as well.” For someone who always seems so very shy and awkward, his eyes look directly into yours, narrowing just a little. His tongue pokes out from between his lips and turns all of your bones to jelly underneath you.

He just ages like fine wine and you know that, should you be offered a permanent position at the BAU, that you would have to spend the rest of your working days keeping yourself in check while the man in front of you continued to evolve into a more gorgeous version of himself every year. The Spencer you remember had felt like peak Spencer, now this Spencer felt like peak Spencer, but who is to say that five years from now, when he decides to grow a little stubble and style his hair differently, that he wouldn’t somehow get even more attractive?

You open your mouth to come up with some bullshit answer that you didn’t really mean in order to smooth things over, when the door opens again. Spencer, standing directly infront of said door, looks not unlike a deer caught in the headlights of a truck barreling right at him going way too fast on a backroad.

Time crawls at an unusual pace, the door slowly creaking open and Laily’s voice filtering in the opening. Why did he have to wear that stupid vest? Surely the FBI has bullet proof vests you could wear under your clothing. The only idea you could come up with was, honestly, not a very good one. But it was the only one you had.

Practically launching yourself across the room, you catch Spencer’s lips against your own like the world depends on it. Using your own hands, you position Spencer’s arms around you with one hand on the back of your head and the other grabbing underneath your leg that hooks around his waist. The vest uncomfortably digs into your chest with how close your bodies are against one another, your arms now thrown around his neck, but if he keeps kissing you like this then you’ll be inclined to ignore it.

Just seconds ago he had been begging you to have a normal relationship despite your silly ‘past’ crush, now his tongue was fighting for dominance in your mouth. The irony was not lost on you.

“Oh.” Laily gasps a little when she sees you in such a compromising position. The lights from the bar illuminating every detail so that she could see the way Spencer’s fingers desperately tangled in the strands of your hair or how the muscles in his forearm strained as he hungrily pulled your body even closer than before.

The blush on your cheeks and neck are real when you pull your lips away, fire erupting in the pit of your stomach when Spencer catches your bottom lip in between his teeth for just a second. The look in his eyes is devilish when you tilt your head over your shoulder to meet her gaze.

“I’m sorry Laily, this is my boyfriend, Lance. I just- I heard about all those girls that have been going missing and I asked if he would drive me home.” The look in your coworkers eyes is all you need to know that this does not look like just a ride home. Although, it very well could have led to a ride somewhere if she had been just a handful of minutes slower.

“Nice to meet you, Lance. Gwen, I’ll see you tomorrow. Just,” the mischievous twinkle in her eyes does not go unnoticed by the two doctors in the room still tangled around each other, “maybe clock out before things get anymore heated.” She teases, the tone of her voice suggesting that you will be hearing more of this tomorrow.

“Bye, Laily!” The door clicks shut behind her, followed by the chuckles and giggles of Laily and the band as they leave for the night. You relax into Spencer’s arms, moving as if to pull out of them before they tense around you.

“We should be safe now.” You whisper, looking up into his eyes that burn with an intensity you’ve never seen in them before. That damn tongue sweeps across those perfect lips again, drawing your attention and reminding you that you now know what they feel like locked with yours.

“I think I hear somebody coming.” He whispers back, aware that you can both hear the soft bang of the front door closing and locking shut from the outside. Since the killings, the door was always locked if employees were still inside, as a safety precaution. Nobody else was coming in tonight unless they had a key.

Your lips meet his anyways, too tired to pretend that the heat between you wasn’t there. If this was the excuse he needed to kiss you, then you were all the more willing to give it to him. His tongue sweeps across the seam of your lips, causing them to open against his mouth and deepen the kiss.

Both of his wide hands splay against your hips, curling into the soft skin there and pulling you toward him with such force that you nearly trip. The hard edges of his Kevlar vest dig into your ribs and collarbone, the rough material scratching against your exposed skin as you push yourself up on your toes. When he breaks from the kiss, both of you gasping for air not from the length of it by from the passion, it is not to end your tryst.

His lips find the pulse at your neck, sucking a bruise at the soft skin there and pulling a moan from deep within your chest.

“Won’t- Won’t Morgan and Prentiss get worried,” your brain feels like the motherboard of a computer that Spencer has taken into his hands and slammed into a countertop, you can’t think when his teeth nip a love bite to the hickey he’s made on your neck, “if we, uhm, we take too long?”

If you thought the Spencer you met seven years ago was different from the Spencer you knew now, it was only because you’d never seen his bright hazel brown eyes darken with lust from beneath those impossibly long golden lashes. He was a completely different person as he unstrapped himself from the Kevlar, laying it on the floor with a solid thunk before gathering you back into his arms.

“They’ll be okay,” He said in between kisses trailed along your jawline. His movements are confident as he dips a hand down the front of your jeans and into your underwear. Your arms tighten around him, pulling your face into the crook of his neck when his fingers find the already wet entrance to your sex. His answering growl does nothing to keep you from coming undone as he presses the pad of his thumb to the bundle of nerves there. “I’m guessing it won’t be long before I have you in the palm of my hands, anyways.”

You rock your hips into him, your eyes fluttering shut with a gasp when he thrusts two long fingers inside of you. His other arm is wrapped around the center of your back, holding you to him because lord knows you can’t be trusted on your own two feet at a moment like this.

“Is this why you planned on ignoring me? Because you wouldn’t be able to handle it if I didn’t give you this?” You whimper a response, too focused on the relentless pace he has set with his fingers to come up with anything coherent. Everything about the moment is raw and animalistic, every fantasy you’d had about him during the fifty minute lecture did not even begin to touch on the feeling of his hand actually inside of you.

“Spencer, please.” You whined, dropping your arms from his shoulders and gripping onto his biceps like it will keep your soul from leaving your body. Yet, as heavenly as this felt, and as much as it exceeded your fantasies, you wanted more. Every part of you craved the feeling of his skin pressed against yours, sticky with sweat and feverish to the touch.

On a tight time constraint, Spencer doesn’t make you beg anymore than that. Instead, he delights in the way you cry out when he pulls his hand out of your pants and up to his lips. Your own lips part with a tiny popping sound when you watch him put those same fingers into his mouth with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

“Strip.” He commands, licking the taste of you off his lips and leisurely working at the knot of his tie. You don’t waste a second in crossing your arms over your body to pull the black material over your head and drop it at your feet. Next to come off is your shoes, clattering across the wooden floor when you kick them to the side.

By the time you make it to your pants, Spencer has only undone a quarter of the navy blue buttons on his shirt.

“I need you now, Spencer.” The buttons slip through your fingers, your hands shaking with excitement more than nerves. Although, the nerves are definitely apart of it. Never in a million years did you think you would be here; in the backroom of a bar in Nebraska, with Spencer Reid doing salacious things to you. While on your first case with the BAU, nontheless.

Doing a complete one-eighty, his hands come up to cover your own just before the last button comes undone. His touch is gentle and prompts you to look up into his coffee colored eyes. The light from the single bulb dangling from the ceiling is no good, and yet somehow he manages to look like a piece of artwork painted by the most skilled hand known to mankind.

“We don’t have to do this here. We don’t have to do this at all, if you don’t want to.” You squint your eyes up at him, using your fingernail to pop the last button through the hole on the other side of the shirt. When you let go, the pieces fall away from his chest like he’s caught in slow motion on a Calvin Klein commercial.

“I said I needed you now, not later.” In response, he scoops you into his arms and wraps your legs around his hips. The electricity that pops and crackles between you is nearly visible in the dimly lit room, the fabric of your bra skimming against his collarbone when you breath.

The little whines and whimpers that fall from your lips are driving Spencer crazy, forcing him to push through the door and lower you to a shorter countertop meant for making drinks. Tonight it would be used for other, more wicked things.

“Someone’s a bit excited.” You breathed. There was no way you could take a full breath in a moment like this. Everything was so heated and yet nothing was really happening.

“Shut the fuck up.” And then he was kissing you, his lips warm against your own. Despite the fact that you didn’t think it was possible, he pulled you closer. You knitted your fingers into his curls and gave them a slight tug. God, you loved these curls.

He began sucking a heated trail down your throat, quite possibly leaving a pathway of hickeys. You would be putting makeup over them for at least thirty minutes before you left your hotel room tomorrow, but for now they were heavenly fire against your skin.

Spencer took away his lips long enough to strip from his remaining clothes and throw them over his shoulder. When he stood in front of you looking like a Roman god, bared to no one but yourself, it made you feel like the luckiest person alive.

“I’m so in love with your body.” He groaned just before his lips found your breast, sucking on your nipple. Your head fell back and your eyes rolled to the back of your head. You fumbled for a moment, patting around the countertop before your brain turned on long enough to get your hand between your legs and down to his naked erection.

He moaned into your breast as you began to move your hand. He let go of your boob and went straight back up to your mouth. His whole body was tensed up but his lips were soft as they parted against against your lips. The whole world felt like it was on fire, and his every touch was another lick of flames.

You move your hand faster, enjoying every groan and grunt and moan that finds it’s way out of his mouth and into yours. He’s already close to orgasm, you can tell by the way he breaks from the kiss, your foreheads pressed together and your breath stirring in the small space between your faces. His grip is tight when he grabs your wrist to make you stop.

“No.” Every nerve and thought and feeling was consumed by you and everything else short-circuited. Spencer couldn’t get the words out of his mouth to properly express what he wanted, it wasn’t often that the young genius was rendered speechless.

But you knew, you knew that he wanted to be inside of you. You knew that because you wanted him inside of you just as much, if not more, than he did. You shift your hips around on the counter, getting closer to the edge as you widen your legs.

“I’m on the pill.” You whisper, watching the sudden realization that he hadn’t come prepared widen his eyes for just a small fraction of a second. Just as quickly, the fear turns into that devlish grin you weren’t aware someone so beautifully shy and awkward could possess.

“Thank you, Pincus, Sanger, and McCormick.” You barely have time to question the comment, although later you’ll realize he’s probably talking about three of the minds behind the invention of the birth control pill. No longer taking his time, Spencer positions himself right at your entrance before running the tip of his cock along your wet folds.

“Fuck!” He slams into you, running his entire length into your body, hitting depths you didn’t even realize had never been touched until he was thrusting against them. It sends a wave of pleasure through every cell in your body as you wrap your arms around his shoulders and kiss him like you’re running out of oxygen.

He holds onto your hips as he repeatedly rams his hips into yours. He has buried his face into the crook of your neck, letting every curse and moan muffle into your skin. The glasses under the counter jangle with every merciless thrust inside you. The sharp bite of his nails digging into your hips makes you hiss, but it’s more from pleasure than pain.

There’s no dirty talking anymore. Every ounce of pretend you both go through while around one another is shed like seconds skins, leaving two people so hungry for each other that it had been too much to bare.

Your fingers are twisted around the short curls at the nape of his neck and your teeth are biting into the solid muscle at his shoulder. The bar always had whiffs of sex and sweat in the air that mixed with the smell of alcohol and perfume, but now it was the strongest scent in the room.

Even as your orgasm starts to build in your belly, you want more. You want to hold him so close that your brain wouldn’t be able to distinguish where you ended and he began. Letting go of his shoulder, your head lolls back and your own nails draw long lines of red down his neck.

“Spencer!” His name leaves your lips in a mix of a sob and a moan, the ecstasy of just his touch alone driving you higher and higher. The sting of his nails leave your hips, one hand reaching to the place where your connected and the other coming up to grip your jaw in his hand.

His thumb rubs against the little button of pleasure that causes your legs to start to tingle like they’ve been asleep for too long. All the while, he ruthless pace doesn’t falter. Sweat sticks a few of his curls to his temples, providing a beautiful glowing effect across the smooth planes and angles of his shoulders and collarbones.

He leans forward to catch your lips in a kiss that ends much too quickly for your taste, but you can feel the rapid exhalation of his breaths as it fans across your cheek.

“Come.” Usually a man of so many words, you had always assumed it would be the same in his sex life. Maybe it was true in most cases, but right now his desire to see you succumb to the pleasure of him inside of you outweighs the need to taunt and tease you with words.

Meeting his eyes, getting off on the smug look that twists his lips as much as you are getting off on his dick actually inside of you, you let yourself fall into the sweet release of your orgasm. Spencer doesn’t stop as you come around him, instead he quickens the pace as his own release works its way to the edge.

Your legs are still shaking when he buries himself into you with one final thrust, capturing your bottom lip between his teeth. He chases the sting of his teeth away with the softness of the kiss that follows, loosing himself in the aftershocks of your own orgasm.

Neither of you move, although he ends the kiss to gasp for air with your foreheads once again pressed against each other. His eyes are closed, the dark pink on his cheeks and neck making him look so much younger than he was. You keep your eyes open, trying to drink in every second and commit it to your memory the way it would forever be in his.

When he steps away, leaving you feeling much more empty than you’d felt in a really long time, the cocktail of your orgasms spill down the inside of your thighs. Suddenly feeling a bit self conscious, you slip off the counter with your arm wrapped around your bared breasts.

The air seems too cold, the bar too quiet, and your mind was too loud with insecurities as you tried to steady yourself on wobbly knees. Nevertheless, you attempt to make a beeline for the backroom door. If you go and put your clothes back on then maybe you could go back to pretending like he doesn’t exist and everything will be fine.

That is until one of those solidly handsome arms come out to stop you in your pursuit of denial.

He’s still naked, standing next to you like a statue carved by the hands of Michaelangelo himself. Although, you aren’t sure the renissance artist would sculpt nail marks into his skin, the signs of your heated escapade only darkening with time. You can only imagine what your own neck looks like, several spots of sensitive skin still overly stimulated from his wandering mouth.

From your vantage point, you can see his swollen lips open to say something, probably that this had been a mistake, when his phone rings from the pair of pants he’d so carelessly thrown to the floor earlier. A small frown mars his angelic features, the side of his mouth twitching with aggravation.

His lips on yours are a surprise you weren’t expecting, despite the sexual encounter you’d just had. This kiss speaks more words than he could ever possibly say, easing all the post-coital dysphoria that comes with the sudden fall from the high you’d been on. It’s gentle and warm, the hand on your arm squeezes reassuredly before he breaks away with one last peck to your forehead. It nearly tears your beating heart out of your chest.

“Come to my hotel room later.” And then he bends down to snag the phone from his pants with an aggravated growl, turning away from you as he lies through his teeth to a worried Prentiss on the other end.

In the backroom, having shimmied back into your pants and going to put your shirt back over your head, you fingers find your lips. They’re just a little swollen, exactly like his, but you wonder if he can still feel that final kiss against them the way that you could.

Oh boy, were you in trouble.

#spencer reid fluff #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x oc #spencer reid angst #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #dr spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid imagines #spence reid #dr spence reid #criminal minds self insert #criminal minds #criminal mind imagine #criminal minds smut #smut

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luimagines · 3 years

Note

the boys with a merperson s/o (or crushing on them) scenarios or headcannons?

Masterlist

MERMAIDS!! OCTMERS!! Crustacean mers? Shark mers?

...It's not mermay... It’s belated mermay since I’m sure I actually got this request by the end of it.

BUT I can do this regardless!

The possibilities are endless.

These are when they’re in their own Hyrule. Without the group, so to speak.

Headcanon time! but also like half scenario?

Content under the cut!

Legend

You are a mermaid or merman

Just a typical mer

Obviously you meet when he’s exploring with his mermaid tail.

You thought he was from far away because you’ve never seen him before nor was his accent similar with pods across the reef.

You ask your friends and neighbors if they knew him but no one could say where he was from.

And he wasn’t exactly forthcoming with any answers, always telling you something else to change the subject.

But regardless of his secrecy you enjoyed his company and his stories.

Sometimes you would find things from the surface and give them to him

You noticed he liked to collect things from above and thought it would make him happy

You were always trying to find things that would make him happy

He seemed to be full of hurt and bitterness

But you knew him to be a kind and sincere soul so you didn’t want him to hurt anymore than he already has.

But you get curious one day.

“Link, where do you live?”

“In land.”

“But if you’re a fresh water mer, how can be out here in the ocean?”

He stalls and blinks at you.

“I’m not a mer.”

That’s throws you for a loop.

“But... you’re tail....???”

You ask more questions

And Legend complies because he totally thought you knew he was Hylian.

That would explain why no one knew where he was from.

He was one of the dry dwellers.

You’re quick to ask him about his travels and he tells you

He finds comfort in someone else knowing what he’s been through and being able to talk everything out.

He also finds more comfort in the water and finds himself thinking about you even when he’s by rivers and lakes

But you wouldn’t survive in fresh water

He begins to bring over some of his more water worthy items to show you

And impress you

But he’s not being honest with himself

So he tries to keep you as close as he can and visit you as often as he can when his blacksmithing apprenticeship lets him get away from time to time

His feelings are slow going

But they’re there.

But he’s pretending they’re not there

Your feelings are also slow going

You confuse them with admiration and curiosity

So of course nothing is actually happening

You’re both being idiots

But your feelings are requited.

Everyone who’s witnessing this is in agony.

Hyrule

You are a fresh water mer!

Hyrule can’t swim so he’s got inclined to go out into the ocean any time soon.

Or into any lakes for that matter.

But he does spend a lot of time near rivers when he has to chance to relax for a change.

It’s where you see him first actually

You were swimming up river from your home to check out what may have been left behind.

You were intrigued by him

But he saw you and ran, not wanting to interact with you incase you were about to attack him

It hurt to see that but you were determined to get to know him

It took months

Mostly because he didn’t go back to that spot for a long time

Next time he appeared you were farther back and raised your hand, waving to him slowly

He stared at you like a deer in headlights

But you stayed your distance

It a reoccurring process.

Each time you’d get a little closer but try to be as non-confrontational as possible

When Hyrule felt at ease enough with your pretense that you could be right next to him, you finally told him your name

He told you his.

Your friendship was grow at a quicker rate than before and you thought he was incredibly interesting

With even more time, you manage to get him into the water and try to teach him how to swim.

You have to take a while to get around how his limbs work verses how you typically swim but somehow you both make it work

Hyrule is a little less afraid of the water now that you’ve been by his side but he still avoids it when you’re not with him

One day you get a little bold and take him to your lake

He’s quick to join you but he won’t go to where the water goes above his head.

It’s a little frustrating to you because you weren’t going to hurt him

You want to show him your home

Even if it was under water

You tell him such

And you can see him consider the option and the possibilities.

“You’ll lead the way?”

You grin and take his hand.

“It’s not like you’d know the way.”

“I can’t breath under water though.”

“I can help with that.”

There’s a magical ability your people possess that when gifted willingly will grant to recipient the ability to breath underwater.

You tell him such with a small blush on your face

It’s something you’ve been wanting to give him for awhile but...

You could see how long it took for Link to warm up to you

And you’d hate to ruin what you have

But your boldness speaks ahead of you.

“What is it?”

“We call it the Stolen Breath.”

“But what is it?”

“...”

You gulp and float on your back to avoid eye contact.

“A kiss.”

You can feel him stare at you in silence for a hot second before he takes a breath.

“Ok.”

Four

You were a river dolphin mer!

Because of Four’s job he’s mostly landlocked so he’s not exactly going to be going to the ocean any time soon.

But there’s plenty of rivers nearby for him to visit in whatever free time he can buy for himself.

When he first meets you it’s not because of those times though.

He actually heard about you through the minish first.

They talked about how you helped them and what you do to keep the place safe, and occasionally you let them ride on your back for a small fee.

The fee is stories of the land beyond.

Intrigued, Four visited your river in hopes of finding you

And he did.

As a minish.

He kept visiting you both out of curiosity and because well...

He thought you were cool.

That being said, you thought he was just another minish and had adored your new found little friend who always seemed so happy to see you.

When Four heard about your fee, he gladly told you about all his adventures, his friends and how he saved the world time and time again

You didn’t believe him at first but loved a good story when you could hear one so you let him talk

Some of the details seemed familiar, when the minish would talk about their savior and friend- The Hero of the Four Sword or The Hero of Men

You asked him about it- why he knew some details that the other minish left out

He stalls and hesitates to let you know the truth

With a small breath, he promises you that when he comes back, he’ll let you know why

You expect him to come back in a week or two like usual but he comes back the next day and leads you to one of the minish doors.

Before your eyes you see him hop through it and come back as a hylian

“Oh.”

“Oh?” Four winces and begins to nervously wring his hands together.

“Does that mean you’re the hero?” You grin and jump out of your river.

“Yes.”

That means all of his stories are true!

You stare at him and begin to feel a little giddy.

“Tell me everything!”

Four smiles a little to himself as he relaxes.

“What else haven’t I told you yet?”

“Well... What do you do when you’re not the hero?”

Four grins wider and sits down on the wet rock next to you.

“Not a whole lot.”

“Tell me anyway.”

Time

You were a hermit crab mer!

Time, similar to Four, is mostly landlocked and as such doesn’t get a lot of opportunities to go to the ocean

But Lake Hylia is definitely within his reach

And considering that you had your shell to keep you from drying out completely on dry land, you had the ability to travel on land for a day or two before you had to return

You were still chained to the water but so much as the others you knew to exist

Time had met you when he was younger, exploring the lake in its entirety with his Zora mask

That being said, he thought he was initially a zora

Your relationship was a little shaky at first.

He had attacked you at first, not knowing what you were or whether you proposed a threat or not

And you had attacked him in turn because the zora were never really welcome near your home- they looked down on you for claiming to be a superior species and they could keep that attitude away from you, thank you very much

When you disengaged, you yelled at him for being a prick and attacking you when you did nothing wrong- even throwing in some less than welcome zora stereotypes of the era toward his face

Later on you grow to really hate that moment- and it embarrasses you every time you think about it but Link laughs

Mostly because in his mind and how he remembers it- he deserved it 100%

It was weeks after when Link had enough of the guessing games and faced you head on to explain himself and apologize.

However you were in the water this time around and he was once again wearing the mask

It took nearly three years of your friendship for you to even learn that he was actually hylian

Which complicated your feelings somewhat

Because as a zora, he was quick to put down your inner prejudice against them by just being himself

Enough so that you thought that maybe there was something happening between you two

But knowing that he was hylian- and could not actually breath under water or spend any more time with you than his life expectancy would allow- hurt you a lot

You had distanced yourself from him for a while as you digested this

Link obviously took it wrong way entirely

He thought you had cut him off from your life and had nothing else to do with him

He wasn’t entirely sure of his feelings at the time

But thought of you cutting him off was painful

He wasn’t sure how to fix it- or even if he could

In the time you were stewing and trying to figure out if this actually changes anything in your relationship, Link was trying to find anything little thing he could get to impress you and express how much he cares for you

Coincidentally, you both look for each to make up on the same day

Link with something shiny and obnoxious for you to add to your steadily growing collection of nick nacks

And you with a confession on your tongue and your heart on your sleeve

Naturally, nothing goes to plan and you don’t confess

Link for his part feels infinitely better about you not shunning him in disgust or heartbreak

You’re glad that he still wants to spend time with you, even if you will eventually out live him

But you’re both young and tenderly feeling this out

There’s still a chance for you two, you think.

There’s still time to let him think about it and for you to try again

Keep going.

Warrior

You were a squid mer

The bioluminescent kind

Warrior actually thought that you were a weird type of zora

From an area that he had yet to see or experience

He was shocked at first when you made your appearance at the surface and screamed

A very manly scream

You shot back down into the water and kept only your eyes above the water

He stared with child like interest after the initial scare when you stared to glow

You stared at each other for a really long time

He was the first Hylian that you’ve seen

You thought that he was cute

Like newly hatched guppies or a jellyfish

You pulled yourself up onto the dock, your extra limbs carrying you with easy strength until you were face to face with him

He was smaller than you thought he would be and you thought that he was missing a few necessary limbs

Your arms caress him with piqued curiosity

He’s tense and panicked but you’ve shown no sign of hostility so he’s refraining from reaching for his weapon.

You pull back after a few tense minutes and plop yourself back into the water.

It’s warmer than you’re accustomed to so you’re uncomfortable and the sun is beginning to rise on the horizon, making it a little brighter than your eyes can handle

You have to leave

But you hope that you can see him again

And you do

He’s a on ship during a storm

And he falls into the water

You’re quick to push through the warmer waters and grab him before the current can

You swim as fast as you can to the surface and hold his head above the water

He’s a coughing mess and tries to swim away from you in his efforts

You hold him close, not trusting his personal strength to fight the ocean

After a brief moment, he notices you and calms down

You’re quick to try and find some land

But you’re too far out into the water and it would take a while

You frown, holding him securely and pick a direction to go.

You force this smaller creature onto your back as you swim

It takes all night and you’re sure would have blinded yourself if you had to stay out any longer than you did

Warrior lets go when land comes, and begins to swim the rest of the way

He says something in his native tongue that you don’t understand but he salutes you

You copy the move and duck under the waves once more

Over multiple weeks afterwards you try to find him again. Continuously resurfacing to try and find him but you’re low on luck.

Until one day

He finds you

You were caught up by some deep sea fisherman, the zora working hard to keep you from destroying their net.

He’s on the docks where they bring you.

The light is killer and blinding and the heat starts to dry your skin.

He saves you in your vulnerability and says, “You save me. I save you. My name is Link. What’s yours?”

It’s your language

You reply before you can question how he speaks it

It’s a special necklace that he had Lana make

You’re back in the water before you know it

Relief comes over you like a tidal wave and you say your thanks to your new friend

Warrior then finds you after that again

And again

You think you like him

He’s not so sure why he likes being around just yet

But he’ll get there

Twilight

You were a crayfish mer!

Here’s the thing, Twilight is also pretty landlocked himself

He’s not exactly going to be by the ocean any time soon and he’s more inclined to relax by a lake than on a riverbank.

That being said, you meet at Lake Hylia.

Since you had a shell, it protected you from the sun and from drying out too fast on land.

Twilight’s first inclination is to freeze up on the spot because he thought you were an aquatic version of the Oocca.

And he wasn’t happy about it.

But you seemed friendly and he wasn’t raised by wolves, so he makes polite conversation with you

He thought it would stop there but nope

You somehow found him no matter where by the lake he was sitting

After awhile he got used to you and even welcomed your presence.

You were none the wiser about his discomfort and just thought he was a nice guy you could talk to to get the news from the land beyond.

You crushed on him first

Your home was buried by a strong storm one day and he wasted no time in helping you dig it out and get it back in working order

That was a love arrow straight through your heart and you were smitten ever since

Twilight had just begun his process wanting to be by your side

At this point he would visit Lake Hylia- not to see you (he wasn’t there yet)- but he would hope you would come and spend some time with him

You knew that you two were from very different words so you tried your hardest to keep your feelings to yourself

Your friendship actually lasted years before Twilight had to come to terms with himself and the thought he might like you

He doesn’t like the idea of falling in love only to have it ripped away from him again

But you can wait for him just as long as he needs to

With time he brings you little gifts

Small things made of glass and stone- things that would survive underwater that he thought you would like

You keep them in a special place inside your burrow

Another storm struck

Late at night when everyone was still asleep, and your burrow collapsed with you inside of it

It was hard for you to move and dig yourself out

You could reach your little treasures that Link would give you

But that was about it.

Link, for his part, was coming to visit you

Not the lake

You

But what he found sunk his heart

A mudslide covered at least half of the shore line and went into the lake

He ran all the way to where he knew your burrow was but he couldn’t find the opening

He didn’t even think that calling your name would have worked

Link swallowed hard, concern and worry latching onto his whole being.

He ran all the way back to his house, getting his shovel and zora armor to go underwater.

Knowing that he was running low on time and you were running out of oxygen, he hitched up Epona and rode all the way back to the lake.

He jumped right into the thick of it and began to dig

Epona wasn’t sure what got Link all up in a tizzy but she pounded the ground by the shoreline nervously

It was hard work

All that would be moved away was replaced by by more mud that would slide over it.

Link was determined though

And terrified

He kept digging until he was able to make some progress with it and eventually he found you huddled where you would normally sleep, clutching your little nick nacks that he gave you.

The fresh water seemed heaven sent and you gulped down what you could, reaching for him to pull you out.

Link grabbed your hand swam with you to the surface, pulling you to the shoreline and washing off all the mud from your shell and your hair

His feelings had to take a step on the backburner for a moment

He had to see that you were ok first.

It may have been the first moment that you could see how much he cared about you

You were starting to suspect where his feelings were before he did

But you’d wait for him.

Sky

You were an Octomer!

But since it’s Hyrule, I’m saying that your have the immortality of a jellyfish. Like how Zora’s can live hundreds of years compared to hylians but longer.

The first time you meet, it’s when he’s exploring more of what the surface has to offer.

Now Sky isn’t like the others.

He doesn’t have the same perception of the others

So while the others would have perceived you as a threat- Sky is mostly confused by your lack of action toward him and the fact that he’s never seen something like you before

So if your species is new to him- and you’re not attacking him-

Then maybe you’re friendly?

You grin and he’s a little taken aback by your teeth.

Slowly you crawl to where he is, each arm pulling you toward him.

You greet him in an ancient language

It has been a while since you’ve seen his kind and you want to know where they’ve gone and what kind of lives they live now.

Unfortunately he doesn’t understand you

You frown and try again, reaching out your hand for him to take

He does take it and replies in a language you’re unfamiliar with

Maybe in the time they’ve been gone the language has evolved.

This can be a problem

While you’re contemplating this, you dip back into the water somewhat and fish out (no pun intended) a stick and begin to draw on the supple sand beneath the both of you

He’s quick to catch on to what you’re doing and uses the tip of his sword to draw in the sand next to you

Slowly but surely, you both come up with some degree of communication.

You learn that the literary aspect of their language has changed somewhat as well but it’s still comprehensible to your mind

He comes back

Time and time again

He begins to slowly teach you his language as it is now

And you answer his question of the world long past

Link is actually the first to fall between the two of you

You can’t seem to take whatever hint he gives you

When he finally gives up with gift giving and subtle sweet nothings, he tells you directly

Now before this, you hadn’t considered him in such a way

You didn’t think it was even an option

Link is quick to tell you what he’ll do if you give him a chance.

He’ll live out in the ocean.

He’ll learn how to man a boat

He can find an underwater cave to be there instead if you’d prefer

He’ll leave his people behind

You think this one in particular goes a little too far and you’re quick to tell him so

You turn him down

At first

Link comes back again and again because he still enjoys your company and he can get past his emotions to not make it awkward between you two

But now that you know it’s an option

You don’t stop thinking about him

Link is on your mind day and night with all sorts of possibilities and struggles you two would have together and how to get around them

Weeks go by

And the somehow, you talk away your sensible side- the idea of what you could be becoming more and appealing each day

You confess randomly on a sunny afternoon and it takes the both of you by surprise

It’s not what you wanted to say at all.

Link is ecstatic!

He had pretty much given up hope that you two could be an item but his feelings were giving him more trouble than he thought they would

But you liked him back!

So maybe this time things can go a little smoother.

Wild

You are a shark mer!

Because Wild has a type.

Now, you live just beyond Lurelin’s borders

Wild meets you when he’s pushing the limits of a deku leaf before it breaks on him and he’s forced to turn around with his second one because he doesn’t want to be stranded in the middle of the ocean with his dinky little raft.

You’re closer to the surface than you’re usually willing to be.

Seeing the raft was a new thing for you and you swim closer to it to inspect it.

Wild actually managed, somehow to throw himself over board and into the ocean

Coming face to face

with you!

Both of you shoot away from each other in shock and he scrambles to get back onboard the wood planks

For your part, you stall for a moment not used to seeing his king so far out into the deep waters.

Intrigued at this anomaly you break the surface and place your hands on the side of the raft, watching him as he catches his breath.

He begins speaking in a rapid fire language that you don’t understand and tell him as much

He jumps and spins over to you, pointing a finger in your direction and even growling

You tilt your head- not at all feeling intimidated by this smaller creature

You tell him your name and ask him for his

But he doesn’t understand you

He then makes a few hand gestures and you brighten

You know that!

Some sailors use that to communicate between each other when the storms get really bad

You recognize some of them but you don’t know the rest of it

You try to sign back to the best of your ability trying to tell him you don’t know that much and once again introducing yourself

He smiles and tells you his name is Link

It starts from there.

You find yourself swimming and spending more time in the shallows than you used to do

He visits regularly

Link is quick to even bring some of his friends over

You are quickly introduced to the Prince of the Zora, named Sidon and he’s been more or less a translator between you two since you speak similar languages from birth.

He visits you as well and teaches you sign on the side to help you communicate with Link without his help.

Link does not know this is happening

You wanted to surprise your friend and Sidon had his full approval of the plan

Because of Sidon’s duties however, there wasn’t a definitive schedule and you were learning at a snails pace

But progress is progress

Link is having some kind of crisis while he’s at home

Because he wants to show it to you but it’s too far inland

He’d also like to know what your home looks like, if you have one, or if you have a family or a community like the zora

There’s so many things he wants to know about you and he thinks he’s beginning to crush

And crush hard

On someone he can’t even communicate properly with no less.

He then asks Sidon to give him lessons on the language you speak

As if that would help in anyway shape or form

Sidon agrees- fully supportive of this idea

So he begins to teach Link on the side as well in order for you two to be able to talk to each other with ease

You do not know this is happening

Sidon knows what’s happening is waiting for the day for this to blow up in both of your faces

It’s a train wreck waiting to happen

Sidon is glad Link met you

This is the most excitement he’s had since Link showed up in the domain

He really hopes this ends well for the both of you

Wind

You were a stingray mer!

You meet when he goes flying overboard from a storm.

He goes deep

You find him unconscious and try your hardest to swim to the surface and to the nearest beach.

It’s hard for you to get a grip on him and swim at the same time but somehow- by someone’s grace and mercy, you manage

You have to get him away from the water without beaching yourself and that’s another challenge all together.

You think about leaving him there and hoping for the best but a strong waves comes through and nearly drags him out to sea again

You resolve to stay by his side until he wakes up

The sun feels nice and warm, but the problem is that you dry out incredibly fast compared to other mers and it’s very quickly an uncomfortable experience

Luckily- or unluckily if you ask Wind- there was a ship coming by and seemingly coming to whatever island this is.

You take your cue and push yourself backwards into the ocean, watching the ship and the boy you found and trying to see if they were actually going to come to his aid.

The ship does eventually come to the island and you think that the boy would be fine.

But out of curiosity, you do come up to the surface every now and then when you think there’s a ship going back- hoping to see him again- trying to see if he was actually ok.

You see him on what has to be a pirate ship.

You try to get close enough to see him but somehow get yourself caught up in a net and pulled up into the boat.

“Wait! Wait!” The boy calls out and runs over to help you out. “Put it back in the water!”

“What are you doing Link?” Someone from the crew yells. “This is the catch of the century!”

“This thing saved my life! It has to be in the water!”

“What if we don’t?”

“It’ll get sick!”

The boy begins to frantically cutting away the rope from you, throwing it to the side and lessening the pressure around you.

You sigh in relief and try to make your way to the side of the boat.

It’s not easy.

The boy lifts you up from one side but he can’t get a grip on you.

Someone else comes in and helps him, getting on your other side and together they throw you over board.

The relief is immeasurable.

The boy jumps over quickly and splashes next to you.

You grin and wave at him.

He waves back and swims up to the surface.

“Hi! I’m Link!”

You tell him your name in reply and swim around him.

“I’m glad you’re ok! I didn’t think you saw me when I saved you.”

“I woke up right as you got into the water. I saw you swim and dive away as I got back onto the boat.”

“Are you two friends or something?” Someone calls from the ship.

“I’d like to be.” You admit with a smile

“I’m Link.” He smiles. “I’d like to be your friend to.”

Your friendship skyrockets from there.

Wind was already on the ship to travel the great sea, so it was easy for you to spend time with him and get to know the rest of the crew and the pirate captain Tetra as well.

Everything about their stories of land excited you so much.

It was a world so different than yours.

In return you told them stories of everything under the water, of all the places you’ve seen and been to.

Every part of you wanted to impress Link and you cherished him.

You don’t have any one to tell you want your feelings but what you do know is that you like him. He’s a good friend and he cares deeply about his people.

You hope that maybe you can be someone he cares about too.

Link for his part wanted to find pretty things for you and show his home, his family, everything that is important to him.

Tetra figures out what’s going on before he does.

She waits a bit before telling Link to his face what’s up with him, wanting to see if you’ll make a move or if he’ll come to his senses.

Neither happens.

So she tells Link and he’s quick to talk to you and confess.

He cares about you more than you’d ever realize.

#linked universe #linkeduniverse #linked universe x reader

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weelittleweasley · 3 years

Text

may i sit? (h.p.)

prompt requested by @oh-no-whoopsie: from what you were taught, slytherins and gryffindors weren’t supposed to get along, much to your dismay. a certain gryffindor had caught your eye and you desperately wanted him to know who you were. when you are having a bad day, you receive comfort from an unexpected guest...

pairing: harry potter x fem! slytherin reader

warnings: crying, anxiety, isolation, loneliness

word count: 2.4k

It was never explained to you as a first year student, but you had always followed the unspoken rule that Slytherins and Gryffindors had a merciless rivalry. You feared being ostracized by your house if you were to befriend a Gryffindor that someone had a vendetta against, so instead you focused on maintaining friendships within your house. This way, there was no risk of being outcast and strengthened the relationships with those who were similar in personalities to you.

However, you did feel like your lack of interaction with some Gryffindors made you miss out on exciting experiences. Since you were friendly with the Weasleys, you didn’t get invited to common room parties that they threw, you didn’t get invited to study sessions with Granger in the library, you didn’t hang out in the courtyards with Longbottom. You just stuck to your non-Gryffindor friends and hoped that it would be enough.

But you did find days where you would longingly find yourself watching as Hermione Granger looped her arm with Harry Potter’s, throwing her head back in laughter at something he had said in passing. He would lightly smile as he watched his best friend laugh before shaking his head and rolling his eyes. His eyes...what would it be like to stare into those beautiful green eyes...

Only problem was when Harry did catch your eyes, your cheeks flushed a bright crimson red as you darted you gaze away from him. It was like it felt wrong to look at him. If someone caught you stealing longing glances at him, that they would tell everyone else in Slytherin house and that would be the breaking point.

So instead of letting yourself look at him and him to you, you would bury your head into some other business and brush aside the thoughts that crept into your mind of what it would be like for the Chosen One to speak your name on his lips.

You thought it was silly for you to have a crush on Potter. First of all, majority of your house didn’t like the boy at all. In fact, they found him arrogant and self-absorbed, and immature. Secondly, you had little to no interaction with him through out your five years with him at Hogwarts. Maybe once you bumped into him at the library and muttered a sorry to each other, but nothing more. No real conversations. Even though you craved to know more about him than just general knowledge, you would remind yourself that it wasn’t in Slytherins’ nature to befriend Gryffindors.

And again the cycle continued of being with your non-Gryffindor friends, watching Gryffindors’ friendships blossom, daydream of what could be, sigh over Harry Potter, distract yourself from Harry Potter, and repeat.

It became exhausting at times. Constantly having to tell yourself no to something that you really wanted. Something that you knew you would enjoy. You knew that you would get along well with people like the Weasleys and Granger and Potter and Thomas and Longbottom. It didn’t matter that your house was different from theirs. But the fear of not being accepted by your own house consumed you to the part where it would drive you to tears on occasion.

Loneliness was always a fear of yours. You had always liked to surround yourself with people you loved, friends, family, or both. It was their presence that made you feel warm and comforted. But some days, it was hard to not feel alone. There were days where you wished your house wasn’t so competitive or pretentious. You wished that your house could let down its guard and actually enjoy school for what it was rather than view it as a jungle, a competition. Hunter and prey. Keeping up with it all was exhausting and you were exhausted to say the least.

Wallowing in your pity, you found a small bench in the outdoor hallways of Hogwarts, knees pulled up to your chest as you rested your back against the concrete wall, the cool temperature calming your warm body. You sniffled and wiped small tears that fell from your eyes as you cried quietly to yourself.

You loved your Slytherin house friends, you really did. They were fiercely loyal to you and would defend you at the drop of a hat. They were funny and witty and charming and intelligent and you loved being around them. But sometimes, you wished that they would be more open to the idea of being around new people. People who were different in nature, but majority of them protested. Pansy would always argue, “We have everything we need in each other, (Y/N). Why would we go out and make friends with others when we are perfectly fine on our own?” She earned the nods of a few heads as you sighed in defeat.

Maybe to see what being with others with different interests and wants and desires in life would be refreshing. Being around Gryffindors could bring a new sense of excitement into your life. It could be good; a change. A new start.

But that wasn’t realistic. You knew that if you became friends with a Gryffindor secretly, your friends would give you hell for it. They would implore you on why you needed someone else, a Gryffindor, as a friend. Especially if it were someone like-

“Are you alright?” a voice interrupts your thoughts as you sniffle and look in the direction of the voice.

Standing a little down the hall a couple feet away was the boy with those captivating green eyes. Harry Potter wore a concerned expression on his face as he watched you wipe away the tears that gently fell from your eyes. His green eyes stared into yours, hoping that you would answer him.

Your heart beats a little quicker at the sight of him and you blinked a few times to make sure this wasn’t some sort of hallucination or prank being pulled on you. Quickly snapping out of it, you spoke, “Yeah, yeah,” wiping your eyes, “I’m fine. Thanks.”

Harry took a few steps closer to you, very cautiously as to not make you skittish. He knew that his presence could make some people wary or uncomfortable, so he tried to approach the situation of an already crying girl very carefully. “You sure?” he implores. “I don’t like seeing people alone. Especially if they’re upset...”

His concern for you was endearing, especially since you had barely spoken to each other before. You wipe your nose on the cuff of your jumper as you shake your head. “It’s alright. I’m used to it at this point, I guess,” you shrug, the words falling from your mouth as Harry gives you a concerned look. You did this often? his eyes seemed to ask as you shook your head. “Not like that,” you let out a light laugh. “I guess I’m just...” you start before realizing who you’re talking to. With a gulp and a look at him, you shake your head, “Never mind, it’s not important anyway.”

Before you can rise from the bench to excuse yourself to go to the Slytherin common room and pull yourself together, Harry stops you. “You don’t have to go,” Harry sticks his hands out, preventing you from rising. “I mean, I’m the one who interrupted you, I should be going,” he insists as you give him a small smile. “But I can assure you, whatever you were upset about isn’t something to brush off if it made you sad enough to cry,” he gives you a sad smile.

You sigh and shake your head. “You’re right,” you admit with a surrendering smile as Harry returns one. “But you don’t need to leave either. This isn’t my hallway,” you joke as he gives you another smile.

The two of you watch each other for a moment, in silence, taking the other in. Harry notices how he’s seen you around a few times and maybe chatted to you before, but didn’t know you well enough to strike up conversation. But for some reason, Harry felt compelled to sit and talk with you tonight. It was like he was supposed to stumble upon you like this. Harry clears his throat. “May I sit?” he asks quietly.

Your heart flutters and an involuntary smile appears on your cheeks as you nod your head. “Of course,” you scoot over on the bench so Harry can sit next to you comfortably.

Harry takes the spot next to you with a smile and turns toward you as you lean back on the concrete wall. “I’ve seen you around before, but I don’t think I know your name,” he speaks. “I’m Harry,” he extends his hands to you, offering a shake.

With a small smile, you accept his gesture. “I’m (Y/N). It’s nice to meet you, Harry,” you tell him as he nods. “You don’t have to feel obligated to sit with me because you walked in on me crying though,” you try to excuse him, but Harry profusely shakes his head.

“No, no, no,” he speaks. “I want to make sure you’re not alone. In case you need someone to talk to...” he offers as you give him a sad smile. “We don’t need to talk if you don’t want to though. I can sit here and you can talk and I can listen. Or you don’t need to talk and I can distract you. Or we can just sit here until you feel better,” he gives you a happy smile.

Could the boy be any more perfect? You practically swooned at his words, he was so thoughtful to someone he had literally just formally met seconds ago. And yet he was so kind and gentle with you. The thought alone of him wanting to be there for you was overwhelmingly genuine. For someone with as much status and popularity as Harry, you didn’t expect him to be so down to Earth.

You quietly thank Harry as he nods, understanding completely. The two fo you sit in silence for a little while as you collect your thoughts, feelings, and emotions before sighing. “I guess,” you start. “I feel a little lonely sometimes,” you admit to the Gryffindor. Harry nods his head, completely understanding. “I have great friends and a wonderful family,” you tell him, “but sometimes, I can’t help but feel like I’m so lonely here.” Harry hangs onto every word that comes out of your mouth, intently listening to what you have to say. “I do like being a Slytherin. Both of my parents were,” you tell him. “But I want to branch out and be friends with other people who aren’t Slytherin.”

Harry gives you a puzzled look. “What’s holding you back?” he asks.

Sighing, you speak, “I know that not all Slytherins are fond of other houses. Especially Gryffindors,” you look at Harry who just chuckles. “I fear that if I do become friends with others, especially Gryffindors, I’ll be ostracized by my friends in Slytherin,” you confide in him.

Harry shakes his head and sighs. He understood in a way about what you were going through. The pressure could be a lot for someone and he hated the look on your face as you expressed your situation to him. Harry wished he could make things better, he really wanted to. “Can I give you a bit of advice?” he speaks as you nod. “Let’s say you do become friends with a Gryffindor,” he says, “and your Slytherin friends do that to you,” he continues as you clench at his words, “and I’m not saying they will,” he retaliates before continuing, “but if they do...(Y/N), those people aren’t your friends.” Harry gives you a soft look as you sigh, knowing that he had a point. “Friends don’t come along with terms and conditions,” he speaks. “They are friends. They are supposed to support you. Not support you when it suits their best interest.”

His words were very true and carried a wise beyond his years weight. But it was illuminating to you in a way you didn’t think of before. His insight was much needed. “You’re right, Harry,” you sigh as he smiles, his advice succeeding in bringing you clarity. “Thank you.”

He beams, “Surely.” You lightly chuckle. “With all that being said,” he starts. “I hope you know that we can surely be friends, (Y/N).” Your eyes widen and mouth lightly falls open. He wanted to be friends? Was this a sympathy move or did he genuinely want to get to know you? “I hope you don’t think I’m saying any of it because of the circumstances,” he clarifies, “I think you’re lovely.”

Your cheeks slowly burn as a smile inches its way onto your lips. He thinks I’m lovely. His kind words mean more to you than he’ll ever know. You give him a shy look before accepting, “I’d like to be friends, too, Harry.”

Harry smiles and for a moment, you think there’s a similar rosy hue on his cheeks. “Brilliant,” he speaks quietly. Carefully, he places a hand on yours, “I’d like to be there for you, (Y/N). Whenever you need it.”

The contact of his skin on yours makes your stomach do a flip as you gulp, eyes glued on his hand placed delicately on yours. Slowly, you look up at Harry who pushes his glasses up on his face as they fall on the bridge of his nose. He was quite adorable, wasn’t he? “The same goes for you, Harry,” you tell him. “I’m here.”

You gently squeezed his hand as you saw him inhale deeply. The two of you looked into each other’s eyes, observed the way they flickered and the way the colors danced. Harry’s eyes felt comforting and familiar; like you trusted him already for some odd reason. But you relished in the feeling of this new found comfort.

The two of you gently peeled your hands away from each other before Harry clears his throat. “Before I saw you, I was on the way to the kitchens to snag a snack for Ron and I. Would you like to join me?” he asks with a light smile.

Nodding your head with a smile, you speak, “Sounds like fun. Plus, I know where the house elves keep the fresh biscuits.”

Harry chuckles, “I think we’re going to be good friends, (Y/N).”

The two of you laugh and start making your way to the kitchens. But you had to agree with Harry. You had a really good feeling about this friendship.

#Harry Potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter fanfic #Harry Potter Smut #harry imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter x reader #harry potter x ravenclaw!reader #harry potter x ravenclaw #harry potter x slytherin!reader #harry potter x fem!reader

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isthataneren · 4 years

Text

phonophobia ~ scenario

a/n: this phobia sucks. so I naturally thought to make a scenario for it lol

∫ pairing: bakugou x reader

∫ warnings: triggered by loud sound, crying, fluff

∫ word count: 1k+

Was this a stupid idea? Yeah. Did you regret it? Nope Yes. Currently you were sitting on the sofa in the common room after having agreed with Mina that everyone should get together to watch a horror movie since it was spooky month. It wasn’t even halfway through the movie and you were already resisting the urge to tug your blanket over your head so you didn’t have to watch the ensuing jump scares that were bound to happen.

Did you forget to mention that you were terrified of scary movies? Well, terrified may be a little too dramatic. But you hate loud noise, so pop out parts always threw you for a loop. Do you cry? Do you vault over the couch and run away? Maybe throw your blanket over the TV? The possibilities were endless; though, you kind of hoped not to do the first option, since you were sitting right next to Bakugou, and you definitely did not want to subject him to the horror that is your crying face.

Surprisingly everyone turned up to Mina’s little impromptu Halloween movie night. You were sure at least Iida would have skipped out but he’s as dutiful as ever, claiming that it was his job as class president to attend all class get togethers. At least that’s what you thought he said. You stopped listening half-way through his enthusiastic speech. Even more surprisingly is that Bakugou agreed to join in. You had a sneaking suspicion he was just here to enjoy the fear in his classmates and the gore of the movie but what did you care? Other than the fact that you like him but we don’t need to talk about that.

The couch was full as well as the floor. You were sat between Kaminari and Bakugou, who was at the end of the couch. Since the start of the movie, everyone has been inching closer together in fear. You included, though you didn’t notice it was Bakugou that you were scooting closer to. That was until a jump scare came up and you jerked, accidentally bumping his shoulder. Quickly looking at him you hastened out an apology before scooting away as best you could. He just grunted in reply before turning back to the movie.

Your face heated up in embarrassment before the movie drew you back in until the next jump scare. How in the hell can people watch this without getting scared? Well, Todoroki seemed to be managing just fine, you thought dryly. His eyes were watching the screen but his facial expression never changed from his normal one that he always had on. He must be superhuman. Even though technically he is. Actually, you all were. So, you couldn’t really use that as an excuse now that you think about it.

Shaking your head to rid your thoughts you glanced at some of the others in the room to see how they were faring. Mina and Kiri were squished together, the latter's face hiding slightly behind Mina’s head. An amused grin danced across your lips at the couple. Your grin dropped when you spotted Mineta trying to press up against Asui, though it quickly returned when she shoved him away, right into Shoji, who proceeded to pick him up and toss him out of the room. Iida, Midoriya, and Uraraka were also sitting close together. Iida tried to keep a straight face but you could see the fear hidden behind his façade. Sero and Kaminari were holding onto each other for dear life. You snorted softly at the spectacle. Finally, you worked up the courage to look to your side at resident boom boy. As you turned your head you almost immediately whipped it back around, wide eyes returning to the movie. Bakugou had been looking right at you when you made eye contact. Dear lord, why? Why must you keep embarrassing yourself like this? Oh boy if only you knew.

As you let yourself relax after your ridiculous reaction you stayed attentive to the movie from then on, not noticing the red eyes that would occasionally glance your way. As the story got more intense you found yourself completely immersed. So immersed, in fact, that you didn’t see the next jump scare coming, and when it did ~whew~ it reminded you of why you didn’t do this type of thing in the first place.

Screams burst out from various classmates, some pouncing onto the people next to them. This particular scene was paired with an extremely loud and sudden BANG sound. Said sound causes you to leap back into your seat, curling up slightly as tears formed unwillingly in your eyes. The noise was prolonged, so you covered your ears as tears started trailing down your face. It felt like your heart was trying to beat right out of your body. This is such an annoying fear, you thought angrily as tears still continued to pour from your eyes.

Not even a second later you felt muscular arms wrap around you, pulling you into a lap. Your eyes popped open in shock, jerking your head up to meet a pair of red eyes. Bakugou was looking at you with concern, though he also looked kind of angry so you may be wrong. Wait, what are you even thinking right now? He just pulled you onto his lap!

He reached up and wiped your tears, albeit a little aggressively, before tugging your head and smushing it against his chest. Honestly, you’re okay with not receiving oxygen. Who needs it anyways? You finally registered that you were still crying. It usually takes a couple of minutes for the effects of the fear to wear off enough for you to stop so you decided to just roll with it. In a moment of bravery, you curled up in Bakugou’s lap, wrapping your arms tightly around the arm that was previously used to smash your face against his rock-hard chest. What was this guy's routine? He tensed beneath you but relaxed after a couple of seconds, bringing his other hand up to awkwardly pat your head. You would have laughed if you still weren’t feeling the adrenaline.

After your tears subsided and you fully relaxed against Bakugou, you pulled away to look at him.

“Thank you.”

Your voice was no more than a whisper, so only he would hear it. Surprisingly, you didn’t seem to disturb anybody with your crying. Well, the movie was up pretty loud.

His eyes searched yours before looking away, what looked like a blush darkening his cheeks.

“Don’t worry about it.”

You felt a tap on your leg. Turning, you saw that it was Mina that had tapped you. Kiri was also watching the exchange. Tilting your head, you gave her a questioning stare.

She looked guilty as she whispered, “I’m sorry! I forgot to warn you about this part.”

So, someone did notice. You smile softly at her.

“Don’t worry. I’m okay.”

Her eyes flitted to Bakugou before meeting yours again. This time her voice was slightly teasing.

“Yes, I can see that.”

Giggling, she turned back to the movie, shuffling closer to Kiri as he flashed you a gentle smile before he turned back to the movie as well.

Huffing out a quiet laugh you turn back to Bakugou, making a move to get off of his lap. You didn’t want to overstay your welcome.

“I’m sorry, I’ll just move.”

Before you could move any further, Bakugou’s arms wrapped around you again, this time keeping you in his lap.

“S’fine.”

You looked up at him in surprise. This time he met your stare without turning away, though he was still blushing.

“You sure?”

He just raised an eyebrow at you, his look saying everything.

“Right, yeah, you’re sure.”

Without another word you curled up in his lap again, his arms staying wrapped around you. This time he was less tense about the affection. He even went so far as to start rubbing your back softly every once and awhile.

You decided that despite what just happened, you would still watch the movie since the plot was actually interesting. This time you just used Bakugou as a personal shield when the pop out parts showed up, peeking out from behind his arm that you brought up to cover your face. His beefy arm worked great for a face cover. Who knew?

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dangerouslyallaboutdraco · 3 years

Text

Exposed

A/n: Some 4th year, GOF, Draco writing. Basically ignores the whole plot besides being at Hogwarts with characters. Y/n is in Gryffindor or Slytherin, you can choose I just picked those two to be the houses taking Potions together. And I took this idea off TikTok.

Potions class on a Thursday afternoon was usually a complete waste of an hour and a half with quippy remarks between Slytherins and Gryffindors but once Snape had announced he wouldn’t be lecturing the class, Thursday afternoon was quickly looking easier.

The desks had been moved so they were facing each other in a line, 10 students on one side facing 10 on the other. As usual, Professor Snape had a seating chart which he announced in his flat voice.

As you stood there in your robes and listened as Professor Snape called out. “Y/l/n.” And pointed to the seat next to Hermione, a close friend of yours.

Before you could move to sit down Professor Snape had moved on. “Malfoy.” He pointed to the seat opposite you, making you hide a smile as his eyes locked onto yours.

With a quick look around at your classmates, you confirmed they hadn't seen it. Anything to avoid the question What’s happening between you and Malfoy? If anyone asked you had the rehearsed lie of Oh nothing, I think he was just looking behind me.

In truth, there wasn’t anything you’d rather do than walk around hand in hand with Draco like the other couples did but there was something interestingly scandalous about the late-night Rendezvous, sneaking around and note passing.

And it just didn’t seem like something you and Draco were ready for, mutually.

Snape continued to call out the names of where people were to sit while you took out your textbook, parchment and a quill.

“You will be completing pages 10-20. You may discuss amongst yourselves as long as you stay on topic and not too loud.” Snape explained before writing up the page number on the blackboard, the chalk making you shiver uncomfortably.

Although there was work to do everyone seemed a lot happier with Snape giving you time to solidify your knowledge while you talked rather than making you write pages of notes.

Hermione was already into her work next to you and you glanced over at Draco to see him smirking at you, Parvati Patil and Blaise Zabini on a side each of him. You could hear Blaise talking but Draco seemed to be intently staring at you.

And he looked attractive today. His hair was starting to get long and fall around the sides of his face with a middle part. Then there was his sculpted, pale face that was a major difference from the babyface you’d seen get sorted on your first day at Hogwarts.

He tore his eyes from your face again, leaving you with a tiny blush. Hermione was craning her head with a confused look on her face. “Are you alright?”

You snapped out of it pretty quickly and paid attention to her. “Yeah, sorry, I’m all right.”

She nodded before going back to her work in her usual studious fashion and you looked to your own. It was a lot harder than what you remembered from class but maybe you were just too focussed on your thoughts about Draco. He played in a loop in your head, a major distraction.

You were half-listening to Blaise and Draco talk across the table about quidditch but it wasn’t a conversation you wanted to get entangled in and there were a few other conversations you could hear, the rest about the book work. Snape was close enough to hear Draco’s conversation with Blaise and how off-topic it was but he didn’t do anything about it.

For a few minutes, you got on with your work, trying to get it finished so you didn’t have more work to do on top of the homework Snape was bound to give you.

“Hermione, can you help me with this?” Parvati asked, turning her book around so Hermione could see the question she was stuck with.

Hermione nodded her head, always happy to help a fellow Gryffindor. “Switch places with Y/n?” She asked, turning to look at you. You nodded, knowing that you were one of Snape's favourites so he probably wouldn’t mind, plus it wouldn’t be your fault if he decided to tell you off.

“Thanks, Y/n,” Parvati said with a smile. While you weren’t friends with her, she was always kind to you.

Parvati picked up her things and walked around the table while you slid your books over to her old seat before walking around the table to take your new seat, next to Draco.

You could tell he had noticed you changing seat from the eyes you felt intently staring at you. Thankfully Blaise didn’t notice Draco gazing at you. As they continued to talk you went through the questions, trying to find the right answers in your brain.

Adjacent to you Hermione was explaining how she’d gotten to the answer to Parvati who didn’t seem to be understanding it. Across from you now sat Pansy who was previously next to you and Ron and Harry were sitting in the two seats on your other side, suspiciously whispering.

As you flip over the page you realised you really didn’t understand the next question, Hermione was still stuck explaining something else to Parvati, Pansy and Daphne weren’t going to be much help and Ron and Harry were whispering secretly.

It took a few seconds of wondering if you really needed help before plucking up the courage to ask Draco, not that he scared you, just that everyone else’s opinion worried you.

“Draco, can you help me with this question?” You asked him, his head quickly turned to you at the sound of his name but he looked gently at you. Blaise’s attention was now on you as well as a few of your classmates who weren’t having conversations and were intrigued by you talking to him.

You slid your book over to him. “Of course, baby.” He replied.

As soon as he let that one word slip your eyes widened and your lips fell open. Suddenly the whole classroom was dead silent. Blaise leaned over and his eyes shifted from you to Draco, quickly. As you looked around the table at Parvati and Hermione they seemed to be doing the same thing Blaise’s were, shifting from you to Draco and back again.

The same thing was obvious for Pansy and Daphne who must have stopped their conversation just as you had asked for Draco’s help. As you continued to look at the faces of your classmates a blush quickly formed on your cheeks, it was as if they had all stopped their conversations to listen to what you were saying.

Draco was still oblivious and he looked around his classmates to noticing they were almost all looking at him. “What?” He still looked beyond confused as he looked to you to explain the situation.

A red colour completely filled your cheeks and you tried to avoid eye contact with everyone. Blaise answered his question. “You just called Y/n ‘baby.’”

Draco’s cheeks filled with colour, matching yours and he ducked his head to look at the book. Everyone’s eyes were still on you, looking between the two of you. You could tell there were going to be some serious questions about what was going on by the looks everyone was giving you.

“Um yeah, we’re.. together,” Draco mumbled out before coughing. Everyone’s eyes widened even more than you thought was possible, complete shock.

“Is there a reason none of you are working?” Snape asked from behind you, making you jump at his sudden voice. Thankfully his warning meant your classmates’ eyes went back to their work and off you and Draco.

Draco’s eyes met yours again and he smiled a little. “I’m sorry, it just slipped out.” He looked sorry too, sincere and gentle eyes trying to read if you were alright.

“It’s probably about time they knew anyway.” You say, looking over at Hermione who was grinning at you.

Draco looked happy with your answer as he nodded, clearly not wanting to make you feel uncomfortable in your short time dating. “So you needed help with this one?” He asked, pointing to the question you were trying to answer.

“Yeah, please.” You told him.

Even though there was still a light blush on your cheeks as he talked having everyone know felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders and you could tell Draco was feeling the same by the slight smile on his face as he explained the work to you without having to worry about what everyone else was thinking.

#Draco malfoy #dracomalfoy #draco x oc #draco #draco x reader #draco x y/n #draco x you #draco x gryffindor!reader #draco x slytherin!reader #draco malfoy fanfiction #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy au #draco malfoy angst #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy x reader #Harry Potter #harry potter imagine #harry potter au #draco lucius malfoy

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moon-light-jukebox · 3 years

Text

see? - [Reid x Reader] - Chapter 3

masterlist

previous chapter // series index // next chapter

Summary: Months after Reader left, Reid has tried to put his life back together. He’s never stopped trying to find Reader, but he may find her in the worst way possible.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k for Chapter 3

Content Warning: Normal Criminal Minds stuff. Mentions of drug addiction. This series has a villain, and he harms women. There is no s*xual assault, but there is brief talk of torture, and then the death of the victims. Spoiler: Our unsub targets pregnant women, one of the infants does not survive. Reader and her baby are fine. I don't go into detail, but if you need to skip this, I understand.

A/n: How can I ever thank you all enough for being so patient with me? That being said, this chapter does end on a cliffhanger that you probably saw coming if you read “River” by @yours-truly-r. She shared this plot with me, so this is my version. I’ll try my best not to make you wait too long for chapter 4. Chapter 3 & 4 are in Spencer’s point of view, but the remainder of the series will be in Reader’s POV.

-- Linear Progression --

(Spencer’s POV)

The night we came back from my first case with the BAU, Morgan declared that he was going to a bar near his apartment to "get lucky." When I pointed out the fact that it was almost 2 am, he had told me, "time is an illusion, Pretty Boy."

That was the first time he called me pretty boy, along with the first time I tried to explain a theoretical concept he had no interest in hearing.

He was right to a degree. The way we understand time is an illusion. Time doesn’t happen in the linear way that we as a society perceive it to. The physics of time are still widely debated, but the running hypothesis is that everything that has ever happened is still happening right now. Every single moment in time is happening all at once, and it always will be.

Morgan didn’t “get lucky” that night, but he did give me a ride back to my apartment. I think that was the beginning of our friendship; I had never been able to understand the social constructs of relationships and friendships, but I think he felt some sort of responsibility for the skinny kid with glasses who was babbling about the physics of time at 3 am.

My friendship with Derek Morgan was one of the most important of my life.

Which is why I wasn't going to murder him for banging on my door at 7 am.

“Open up, Pretty Boy!”

Grumbling, I got out of bed and padded down the hallway towards my living room where Morgan was pounding on the door so hard, I was concerned it was going to fly off its hinges.

“If you break my door, you’re gonna fix it,” I muttered out when I finally pulled the door open.

The man who was the closest thing to a brother I had just smiled at me. “I restore houses, kid. It’d be an improvement.”

Smirking, I waved him into my apartment. In the months since…Since February, Morgan had made it a habit of coming by several times a week whenever we were in town. I don’t know if the rest of the team knew he did it, I don’t know if they were as worried about me as he was, but it wouldn’t have surprised me.

“Coffee?” I asked, making my way into the kitchen.

"We'll grab some on the way," he said, flopping down on my couch. "We have a case; I told Hotch I'd swing by and get you. It's wheels up as soon as we get there and finish the briefing."

I frowned. “I didn’t get any message.”

“I know. I asked Garcia to let me wake you.” He turned his head around to look at me. “You haven’t been sleeping, kid.”

He wasn’t wrong. “It’s…I’m trying, Derek.”

I didn’t need to say it, because he knew it. Much like time, recovery isn’t a linear process. You start, you stumble, you go back, sometimes you go up then down. It’s an imperfect journey because there isn’t a finish line; addiction can’t be beaten, only beaten back.

Derek Morgan had been beside me through every step of my recovery.

Lumbering off the couch, he walked over to stand before me. “Reid, you’re doing the best you can. Everyone stumbles.”

I shook my head. “It’s different. I can…I can still see it. I can still see it all, Morgan.”

I could still see the look on Ben’s face when he found the vials of Dilaudid I had hidden all around my apartment. I could still remember the look on Hotch’s face when he told me she was gone. I could still see the anger on Garcia’s face when she refused to help me find her.

Most of all, I remember how y/n looked when I told her I would kill her, give up her precious life, for one more moment with Maeve. Every morning, right before I wake up, that memory flashes behind my eyes.

I’ve called in every favor I’m owed, reached out to every connection; no one could find her. She vanished.

I quickly realized the only way she could vanish like that is if she had help from inside the bureau, and if I had to guess, I’m sure I know who helped her. If she went to all these lengths, she didn’t want to be found, least of all by me.

"We'll find her, Spencer," Morgan said gently, pulling me from my thoughts.

He said the words to comfort me, but even he knew they weren’t true. No one would find y/n y/l/n until she wanted to be found.

Nodding my head, I made my way back towards my bedroom to get ready for the case.

Making amends is very big in the recovery process. I wanted to make amends to y/n, and while I wanted that to be in the traditional sense, I settled for a symbolic one.

I tried to make myself into the man she thought I was before that night. Every time I felt the itch crawl up my spine, I thought of her face. It didn't make the craving go away; it just made it easier to bear.

I didn’t deserve to have her back in my life, but I wanted to be someone who did.

After I had finished getting ready, I made my way over to my bedside table to pick up the coin I carried with me everywhere, running my fingers over the edges before placing it in my pocket.

Two hundred and forty-seven days sober, and each one of them was for her.

We never made it to the bullpen that morning. Hotch called and informed us that it was wheels up "immediately," and that we would debrief on the plane. Morgan and I were the last members of the team to arrive. He took a seat on the couch beside Callahan while I opted to sit at the table across from Hotch and JJ.

“Garcia is going to be out for the remainder of the week. She has the flu,” our unit chief informed us, his eyes fixed on the tablet in front of him.

Morgan toyed with his phone, no doubt trying to text his ‘baby girl’ before take-off. “Who is going to be running things from here since she’s out? Kevin?”

Hotch nodded, but I couldn’t help but notice he seemed distracted. “He’s the most familiar with Garcia’s systems.”

“Is that what they’re calling it these days,” Rossi muttered just a bit too loudly, earning a mock glare from Hotch, a confused look from Kate, an eye roll from Morgan and JJ, and a soft huff of laughter from me.

“Let’s get started,” Hotch ordered, drawing all of our focus back to the present. “The Oregon State Police have requested our help.”

I couldn’t help but wrinkle my nose at the tablet in front of me, further proof Garcia wasn’t on this case. Despite how mad she was at me over Y/n, she still always accommodated my wishes for paper files.

The state police?” Morgan asked. “Not the locals?”

"No," Hotch answered, right as I brought up an image on my screen. "He's not sticking to one county."

I heard a strangled gasp from JJ, but I didn't need to look up to know why. “How many?” I asked.

“When the original request was made two women had been abducted. Both of them were pregnant, days from giving birth, and both from the same town of Silverton, Oregon. The first victim was Iris Jenkins. She was a 31-year-old woman, and she was 40 weeks and 2 days gestation when she was taken by the unsub. The M.E. estimates he held her for less than 24 hours before she died.”

“The baby?” JJ asked, her voice thick with emotion.

“He was left outside of a local hospital in Silverton. He was completely unharmed. The next intended victim is Nancy Williamson. She was abducted outside her workplace. Also 40 weeks pregnant with a boy.”

“Could that be a coincidence?”

Hotch still didn’t look up from his tablet. “It could have been before the latest victim.”

“But Nicole Williamson escaped?” Morgan asked. “That’s lucky. Did she give a description of the guy?”

“No, she said he kept her blindfolded and bound to a chair.”

That caused me to pause. "That doesn't make sense. Why would the unsub blindfold them if he plans on killing them anyway?"

Rossi spoke for the first time. “Psychological torture? Sensory deprivation?”

I thought about that as I swiped through the crime scene photos; pausing when I saw a photograph of a letter on the screen. "He makes them write letters?”

“Just the first victim and the third. The one that got away was only held for 12 hours.”

I frowned. “Is this blood? Or just red ink?”

“The first is red ink, the second letter is still being processed.”

It was obvious based on the letter spacing and how many loops were in the letters that a woman wrote this letter. Based on the contents of the letter, I could also assume she was under duress.

Hotch spoke again, pulling my focus. “Morgan, I'd like for you and JJ to drive up to Silverton. Visit Miss Williamson and ask if she's up for a cognitive interview, then visit the M.E., ask him if he remembers anything about the first victim.”

“Where was the…” JJ’s question trailed off when he got to the same image Kate’s hand had been frozen over for the last 47 seconds, the same photo that was described in the incident report that Hotch had on his screen.

My unit chief, my friend, cleared his throat before he spoke. “Kayla Whitmore was found an hour ago in Eugene, Oregon. The autopsies are already underway, and the scene is being processed.”

“The cause of death seems pretty apparent,” Morgan said with a look of disgust on his face.

"The time between this most recent kill and the last abduction is much shorter. We need to move fast," Hotch said, his voice grave. "Kate, I'd like for you to come with me to the FBI satellite office in Bend, that's where we're landing. Kayla Whitmore's credit card was used to buy gas right outside the town limits. Rossi, I'd like for you and Reid to ride out to Eugene. It should be undisturbed."

"I already don't understand this guy," Rossi muttered. "The first baby survives, the third doesn't. The second victim is blindfolded, but it doesn't appear the others were. He makes them write their own letters. Then he uses the third victim's credit card. This behavior…it's erratic."

“Is the message on the wall the same in both crime scenes?” I asked, already knowing the answer.

“Yes.”

The media hadn’t named our unsub yet, but I was sure it wouldn’t be long, especially once word of Kayla Whitmore reached the public. This type of violence always draws attention.

Rossi was moving around the room, silent, but his eyes moving rapidly over everything. “He’s a cocky son of a bitch, I’ll give him that.”

I nodded. “Do we have the original note?” One of the deputies brought over an evidence bag, inside of it was the wrinkled piece of paper. “Have we analyzed this yet?”

The man nodded. “It’s red ink, just like the last.”

"It makes sense; blood might start to coagulate and make it more difficult to work with. Rossi, come here." I called, offering him the note.

“Give justice to the weak and the fatherless; maintain the right of the afflicted and the destitute. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked,” he read. “It sounds biblical.”

“It is. It’s Psalm 82, verses 3 through 4.”

“Was the first note biblical?”

“The first victim was made to write, ‘Take no part in the unfruitful works of darkness, but instead expose them.’ That’s from Ephesians. There are similar themes in both letters.”

“So, he’s perverting the bible to fit his own fucked up narrative? How original.” The older man handed the paper back to me. “We have to find out how he’s choosing them.”

My gaze moved over to the right wall of the room. "Did the unsub leave any prints when he wrote on the wall?"

It wasn't the first message I'd seen written in blood, but I don't think it's something you ever get used to. “’Do you see this, son of man?’ could be another biblical reference. It’s Ezekiel chapter 8, verse 17. “Do you see this, son of man? Yet you will see still greater abominations than these.’”

“So, are the children abominations? Or the mothers?” The deputy said quietly.

“The mothers,” I answered. “He doesn’t harm the children. I think it must go against his…moral code.”

The deputy scoffed behind me, and I was inclined to agree; the idea that someone could do something like this and have a moral code was almost impossible to imagine.

But devils hide in plain sight all the time.

“His rage is escalating,” I pointed out.

I heard the deputy ask Rossi what that meant.

“This guy is a bum,” the man who developed the art of profiling explained. "He can't get a girlfriend, and he has this idea in his mind that it’s the women’s fault. He thinks women owe him sex, love, whatever he wants.”

I walked away from the wall, turning to face the two men. “He thinks they’re dirty, unclean. It’s why he makes them write the note. By making them say they deserved what he did to them, he’s humiliating them even after death.”

The deputy’s face was pale as he survived the scene around him. “Why does he make them leave the messages in their own blood?”

“Only one message is from them,” I replied, gesturing to the evidence bag. “The message in the blood is from the unsub.”

Before we exited the room, I turned back to that message again, feeling the hairs on the back of my neck stand up.

Both victims had been discovered in the exact same way. The women were naked, stabbed multiple times, but with no signs of sexual assault. They were positioned in the middle of the blood-soaked mattress, their arms spread wide.

He had left the same message on the walls of the room, written in the blood of the woman he killed.

“Do you see this, son of man? Do you see?”

“The media is calling him The Prophet.”

Rossi scoffed. “I bet it was that wet behind the ears deputy who leaked the note and told him the kid’s biblical theories.”

Rossi and I had arrived at the FBI office in Bend, Oregon about an hour ago. Kate and Hotch had already set up; JJ and Morgan were on their way back from Silverton now.

“So, what do we know about this jag-off?” Rossi questioned, staring at the evidence board.

Hotch came to stand at the head of the conference table, his eyes sharp, his voice clipped. "Reid, Dave, what did the M.E. say about the Eugene autopsies?”

"He said he suspected it was a botched c-section. Kayla was just over 40 weeks pregnant, but he said it's not uncommon for first-time mothers to go up to 42 weeks.”

“I know that’s right,” I heard JJ mutter from the speaker placed in the center of the table.

“Indicates a lack of medical knowledge,” Morgan offered. “Because we know this guy isn’t squeamish.”

I agreed with my friend but didn't comment on it; my mind already on another topic. "What's interesting is that Kayla had an anterior placenta, meaning it attached to the front of her uterus. Usually, the placenta attaches to the posterior wall, meaning it's more towards her back. Because of the unusual placement of the placenta, I think that the death of this fetus was accidental."

“It wasn’t a fetus, Reid,” Kate snapped. “It was a baby.”

I cleared my throat, meeting her angry gaze. I knew Callahan was the guardian of a young girl, and based on my years working with fellow agents who were also parents, I knew it was best not to argue about definitions and semantics. "I'm sorry, Kate," I murmured.

Her gaze softened. "It's fine. Sorry. This case is just…this is a lot." She looked down to swipe across her tablet screen. "This child was a boy too?"

I nodded. “All three of the victims were pregnant with boys.”

“So, he wants boys?”

Rossi turned to Kate. “He wants mothers of boys. Probably his way of killing his mother over and over again.”

“But how does he know the babies are boys?” JJ asked.

“So, what do they have in common?” Hotch asked. “Let’s add Nicole Williamson into the mix too, what do we have?”

“There were quotes from the bible in the two complete notes. Those specific verses are often referenced when they speak about protecting children,” I said, my eyes moving over the files. “The women were all in their 20’s. They were all at least 39 weeks pregnant, and...huh, there’s not a father named in any of the medical charts.”

“But how does he know that!” JJ huffed again in frustration.

“And are we sure this unsub is a guy?” Callahan questioned. “There was no sign of sexual assault.”

“If we follow statistics, women take babies, and men take children. With that in mind, it would be safe to assume this was a woman, but the amount of rage we’re seeing makes me think it’s a man.” I turned my back to the team, my eyes moving over the crime scene photos. "The letter was written under duress, but the language is very misogynic. Based on the information Kevin gathered about Kayla's online life, she had a normal amount of self-esteem. It's out of character that she'd talk about herself this way. By all accounts, she was excited for the baby. It's also incredibly difficult to stab someone 54 times. All the women would have fought him until the end. He'd have to be stronger to subdue her. It's a biological instinct, mothers' will stop at nothing to protect their children."

Hotch had pulled out his phone before I finished speaking, dialing Kevin Lynch to give him the criteria of the person we were searching for. "We need women in the Bend, Oregon area that are close to giving birth. There will not be fathers listed on the medical charts. She'll be at least 39 weeks into her pregnancy."

“Alright, so that would leave us with…” Kevin wasn’t able to finish his sentence before an alarm started blaring over the speaker, almost drowning out Kevin’s yelp of surprise.

“What is it?” Hotch asked. “Did something happen?”

"I…I don't know, sir," Kevin answered after he had finally gotten the alarm to quiet. "I was running the search, and…it triggered some sort of system-wide alarm. It completely locked me out of Penny’s system.”

Morgan clicked his tongue. “That doesn’t make any sense. Penelope wouldn’t set some alarm without a reason.”

“Wait. Kevin, was there any sort of message that came up when you triggered the alarm?” Hotch asked, his tone urgent.

There was a weird tension on Hotch’s face while he waited for Kevin to reply. “Yeah, uh, just a dialogue box that says ‘Nightingale.’”

“Nightingale?” Kate asked. “Isn’t that the…”

Hotch didn't reply; he hung up abruptly while Kevin was still speaking. I felt a chill run down my spine when I noticed his hands trembled slightly.

“What is it, Hotch?” Rossi asked urgently.

But he never got a chance to answer; a deputy stormed into the room. "We just got a report of an abandoned car outside of a grocery store about half a mile from here. It's registered to a young woman, and there was an empty infant car seat strapped in the back."

Hotch took the paper from him but didn't look at it. His eyes were screwed shut, and his shoulders were tense.

I heard when the voice spoke on the other end of the line. I heard the deep breath Hotch let out before he spoke.

“Penelope, I need to know where y/n is.”

----------

Permeant Taglist : @rachelxwayne @pinkdiamond1016 @sickeninglyshoujo @justagirllookingforherplace @nanocoool @andiebeaword @imjusthereformggcontent @rainsong01 @violentvulgarvolatile @mys2425 @al3xmnd @imfalling-inlove @cielo1984 @shadyladyperfection @kissingvalentino @goofygubler14 @levylovegood @diesinspanishbcimhispanic @criminalmindzjunkie @addie5264 @hopefulfangirl24 @vellichor01 @ellegreenawayapologist @mcntsee @eevee0722 @peacedolantwins2 @ashwarren32 @goldencherrymooon @pumpkin-reads @mood---board @gublersbooblers @lesbian-emilyprentiss @badkittybang @quxxnxfhxll @jessayln-jpeg

All Spencer Reid: @mediocre-writer @haihappen5 @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist

See? Series taglist: @bluegoopplaidsalad @notasofti @bisoner @haylaansmi @ameliamonster @amirahroronoa @gredvb @riley-the-pan-nonbinary @solangeltorres @gwendolyn02 @sallyjacksontheweirdauthor @fangirl-nonsense @immahotmess @falcon-arrows @obsessivereaderchick @flor-sin-petalo @rexorangecouny @keomoon @hermanthewormman @sakurashortstack @criminallminds @boiled-onionrings @sierraraeck @t0xicllama @thequeerishere555 @lexiessimagination @blameitonthenight21 @abbyg217 @lil-roaster @wooya1224 @faesyl @tessa-laurel @little-blue-fishie @fandomyfangirl @youaremyfiveever @evelyncade @sunshine-ncs @maikanna @wishiwasabook @swiftingday @thelastfirerbender @alligatorrampage @notebookgirl30 @forever-a-cynical @alligatorrampage @samayoshito @readandreid @mvlanchqly @odetobeetlebum @notebookgirl30 @meowiemari @calm-and-doctor

Let me know if you’d like to be on any taglist.

#Spencer Reid #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fan fic #criminal minds angst #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid x reader #dr spencer reid #Spencer reid fic #Dr Reid #Reid #Spencer Reid x y/n #Spencer Reid x you #Reader insert #Dr Spencer Reid x Reader #Reid x Reader #Spencer Reid imagine #Criminal minds imagine

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 3 years

Text

pause, m | myg | 3

pairing(s): yoongi x reader

summary: Life is like a cassette tape. It seems like it’s constantly repeating, flipped from side A to side B, and the songs can’t be skipped. You can only pause, rewind, fast forward, play after you’ve already heard the song. After you’ve already lived it. All Min Yoongi knows is his own tape, until it smashes right at his feet, and then he has to learn to dance to a different beat.

warnings: rated M (18+) - please be warned this story has a physically and verbally abusive relationship; language; gender stereotyping; mentions of therapy; non-idol!AU; music producer!Yoongi x dancing fanatic!reader

rated M because I know how sensitive a topic domestic abuse is.

Morning. Night.

He wasn’t on the night train.

Morning. Night.

He wasn’t on the night train.

Morning. Night.

You were the only one exiting at the last stop. Running. Running.

Morning. Night.

You hated this replay. This song sucked. This cassette tape sucked. But you kept going, ending all your bad days with dancing, dancing until you wore your own heart out, dancing to sad songs with happy beats, attending your dance party of one. Never had you wished your dance party to be of two.

Never, until now.

Morning. Night.

You were wandering around your neighborhood on your off day, idle and antsy. There was a garage sale happening. You walked over, seeing all the old things. Weird lampshades with no bottom half. Chipped coin banks. A pair of ping-pong paddles with no ping pong ball. Single teacups without the rest of the set. Old VHS tapes that no one had a player for.

Cassettes.

A bunch of cassette tapes, sitting there, spilled out. You tilted your head, picking one out. Love Songs for my Love. It was written in faded pen, a barely legible scribble. You flipped it over, but there was no indication of said songs. Just a Side A and Side B. Did someone make this? Did they use a tape player and record this by playing the songs on scratchy audio?

You suddenly remembered Yoongi’s girlfriend throwing a cassette tape on the subway concrete as she declared she hated him. The thin plastic has shattered, black ribbon flying everywhere.

Did Yoongi make her one?

And she smashed it, just like that?

“Do you want that?”

You started as an old woman indicated the tape in your hand. She was wearing a blue and white floral dress, a bright pink fanny pack at her waist. Her hand held a wad of change bills.

“Uh…” you said, not knowing if you did or not.

“I have a cassette player too.” The old woman tucked a gray hair behind her ear and rummaged around her, producing a silver and brown cassette player. It was huge, nearly the size of your forearm. “Still works. Needs batteries though.” She stated the price.

You walked out of the garage sale with the cassette and the player, wallet lighter.

You went home and played the tape after shoving some batteries into the player. It was full of old, cheesy eighties songs. You didn’t know any of these songs. They were all weird. Some were poorly recorded, cutting off strangely. The speaker was terrible, scratchy and pitching the audio due to its age, not that the audio was very good to begin with.

But you danced to it.

You danced to it.

Danced to these terrible love songs of a different time, of a different couple, not knowing if they were still together or not, not knowing if they were still in love, not knowing if they were even in Korea, but dancing to these retro beats anyway, not caring. Because someone, at one point, tried clumsily to make this for the one that loved, only for it to be sold like cheap candy decades later and you might as well enjoy it, because, hell.

What else was there to enjoy?

Morning.

Night.

You stopped at your doorstep.

Someone was sitting there, wearing a black parka and black sneakers. Black face mask. He raised his head as you stopped. Dark eyes, void of any sparkle. He stood up.

You swallowed. Bowed your head politely.

Opened your door for Min Yoongi.

You hadn’t changed the couch all this time. Left everything there, waiting.

Blankets. Pillow. The suitcase of his clothes.

Everything.

Yoongi didn’t say anything.

You went to your room, wordlessly.

In the morning, the blankets were folded neatly and the pillow set on top, as if he was never there.

Pause.

Fast forward.

He would be there one night and then not there several nights. He would stay several nights in a row, but not be there in the morning. Never saying anything. You didn’t say anything. You just went to your bedroom and danced to sad songs with happy beats, door closed, the pressure in your chest unbearable.

Replay. Turn the tape around. Replay. Turn the tape around. Replay.

You wanted to fast forward. You wanted to pause. You wanted to rewind.

But you had to press play.

You had to live the moments.

You had to run as you exited to night train, run and run and run, sometimes finding Yoongi sitting at your doorstep, sometimes finding nothing but air. And it didn’t matter. They were all bad days, ending with you dancing to gloomy songs with upbeat tunes, dancing and dancing until you passed out.

You were stuck.

Stuck in this odd loop of reality.

Trapped in sad lyrics with a happy melody.

You talked to your former therapist about it.

Explained the situation, trying to remember all the details. He was retired already, but as usual he listened patiently and with kindness. He didn't have to. When your therapist retired, he let you know that he meant it when he told you that you could call him any time and he would set aside some of his day to talk with you. You were grateful and never tried to abuse it. Sometimes you would just call and say hello, ask him about his health. Send him cards every once in a while, wishing him well. He had been a great therapist and now he was a good friend.

Those were really, really hard to come by.

You saw Yoongi once again, sitting in front of your apartment doorstep. Bit your lip seeing his crumpled form wrapped in his black parka. You walked up to him and smiled, but Yoongi didn't look at you. He only stood up and moved out of the way for you to unlock your door.

Your former therapist's words echoed in your head.

You need to consider the effect of your kindness, not only on him, but on you.

You held up your keys and found your hand shaking, missing the keyhole.

It is up to you how much you want to say. But remember to communicate with empathy. He is a victim and he may not respond rationally because his thought processes have been manipulated and warped.

"I'm sorry."

Yoongi's whisper was very soft, almost inaudible. You wanted to scream, cry, laugh it off, hug him, all at once. Instead, you took a deep breath and put your key in your front door. Turned around and beckoned him warmly into your home.

"Come in."

Everyone's reality is different. Even if you're sharing moments together, one person might have a completely different way of interpreting and processing events.

Yoongi stepped into your apartment once more, carefully taking off his shoes. Trying to keep his eyes on the floor. You didn't see any visible bruises on his face, but you could see the bruises to his soul as he timidly walked to the couch.

In life, you get to choose only how you feel about things. You only get to choose your own reaction.

You closed the front door, locked it.

You can't choose for other people.

You turned around to see Yoongi looking at the pillow, blankets, the little bag of toiletries. The suitcase of his clothes, washed and folded. You kept them on the couch, all this time.

"Yoongi."

He didn't turn his head, but you saw him move his chin slightly to indicate he was listening.

"This time... this time, before you leave in the morning," you said quietly, gently. "I hope you reconsider. Even if it's only for a second."

Yoongi didn't respond.

The next morning, you didn't know what you would find. The same folded blankets with the pillow on top? The same empty couch?

You went out to the living room.

Folded blankets. Pillow on top. No Yoongi on the couch. Your heart sank. Okay. It was worth a shot.

"I told myself this would be the last time."

A familiar raspy, soft voice. You jerked your head to the door. Yoongi was standing there, fully dressed, face mask on, sneakers on his feet. He wasn't looking at you. He was staring at the couch.

"I told myself I wouldn't take advantage of your kindness anymore."

It's okay, you wanted to blurt, but you hesitated, because was it? Was it okay to watch this all the time, to witness this toxic relationship, and not be able to help because you can't help unless they want to be helped?

"I'm weak."

Yoongi raised his head. He made eye contact with you. And it hurt so much, seeing those eyes and knowing you could do nothing, knowing he was just going to go back because that's all he knew.

You smiled even though it hurt so, so much to smile.

"You might think you're weak," you said softly. "But you always have a choice, Yoongi. Even if it's a small step. Even if it's something dumb, like taking off your shoes."

You couldn't tell his expression, most of it hidden behind the face mask. You thought of that time, in the convivence superstore, where his fingers had accidentally gotten caught in your sweater and unfurled the yarn, tangling you two together with red string, an awkward, embarrassing moment. Your lips curved a little wider, remembering that time. If anything, at least there was that one precious memory.

Yoongi looked down.

He placed his hand on the doorknob.

You closed your eyes, not wanting to watch him go.

You heard shuffling. Then a presence close to you. Your eyes snapped open. Yoongi's shoes were by the door. You looked up, right in front of you. Yoongi gazed back at you with uncertainty. Then he pulled down the face mask and stepped closer to you. Voice trembling, still so soft.

"What... what should I do now?"

You couldn't help it.

You began to cry.

It all came out, the tears spilling like a broken dam. Yoongi's eyes widened, startled at your sudden reaction. You wrapped your arms around yourself and buried your face in your chest, sobbing ugly tears. You turned away quickly, wiping them away and attempting to talk, but it was impossible. They kept coming.

Was it happiness? Relief? Stress? Anxiety? The crying racked your entire body. All those weeks, all those days, all those moments. You were just a person. You wanted to say, don't do this to me anymore, but that wasn't a fair thing to say, so you never said it, but, please, please Yoongi, don't do this to me anymore.

Arms appeared around you, black parka covered arms, and they encircled you, first a tentative hold, then tighter and firmer, steadying your sobs, turning them into sniffles. You realized your sweatshirt sleeves were wet and gross now, covered in snot and tears.

"Thank you."

The whisper behind your head, making you freeze.

"Thank you so, so much."

You didn't want to start crying again.

You started crying again.

Pause.

Fast forward.

Yoongi looked back at you, face full of uncertainty. Black face mask on his chin, squishing his cheeks together. You smiled at him from the waiting room, waving. The doctor’s name was printed clearly on the door. The name of the therapist you had helped Yoongi find. They specialized in domestic violence victims.

“I… I can’t do it.”

He said it softly, but the waiting room was dead silent.

You smiled at him.

“You only have to take one step,” you replied gently. “I’ll be waiting right here.”

Yoongi looked forward again. He took one step. Then another. Then more, walking into the door and closing it behind him.

Pause. Rewind.

You remembered your similar moment. You were by myself at that time, years ago, confused and alone, about to walk into an old man’s office who you thought could do absolutely nothing, but you didn’t know what else to do. You knew there was something wrong with you and you didn’t know what and you knew you needed help. But there was no one to tell you to take a step forward. You were frightened, scared of being alone. Equally scared of being with someone else, which was why you were so boring in every relationship, never putting in any effort, because you were afraid.

The therapist had noticed your hesitance. He stood up and said your name kindly. You snapped to attention, nodding slowly. The old man had smiled, hands crossed in front of his waist.

“You only have to take one step,” he had said. “Just one.”

You looked at the ground.

Took one step.

That seemed too small. Maybe one more.

One more.

One.

More.

You were now in the office, standing in front of the sofa.

The old man had beamed at you proudly.

“You did it.”

Pause. Fast forward.

“You did it.”

Yoongi stepped out of the office. His eyes found yours. “I did.”

You smiled proudly.

“Wanna go buy some bread?” you asked, pointing in the direction of the market plaza next to the clinic. “There’s a bakery nearby. It would be nice to have bread for breakfast, don’t you think?”

Yoongi gave you his little half-smirk. “Yeah, it would.”

Reset.

Pause.

Play.

“Why do you have that?”

You looked up from your bed to your desk. Yoongi was pointing to the cassette tape player. His face was white, almost tense. His other hand was holding yours. He held it tighter, biting his lip.

“I bought it at a garage sale,” you answered truthfully. Yoongi lowered his hand, not quite looking at you. You continued. “I was walking around the neighborhood and someone was selling their old stuff and I saw some cassettes, so I bought one. The lady upsold me the player too. It was after the first time you…”

You left me.

You felt a painful pluck of your heartstrings, like a guitar strand pulled too tight and producing the wrong sound. Yoongi turned to face you, but you shifted your eyes, taking a deep breath. It’s not his fault. But it had hurt. You couldn’t pretend it didn’t.

You laughed apprehensively. “It was full of eighties love songs anyway. The audio is scratchy and old. The couple probably aren’t even together anymore.”

“That wasn’t that long ago.”

“The eighties were forty years ago, Yoongi.”

Silence. Yoongi was still holding your hand.

“How many times do you think it’s been replayed?” Yoongi murmured.

Your eyes shifted back to the silver and brown tape player. “I don’t know. But I kept playing it.” Your voice was a little choked up now. “I kept playing it until you… until you came back.” And sometimes I think… sometimes I think there might be a chance you’ll leave again. And maybe that was impossible, but you knew better, because impossible things happen all the time and it would be easy to think a person could fully heal, but things like that don’t heal so easily.

You know, because you witnessed it firsthand.

“They’re all terrible,” you said quietly.

Yoongi squeezed your hand. “But you kept replaying them.”

“Yeah.”

He took a deep breath. And then another. You waited. He seemed like he wanted to say something. You rubbed his thumb gently with yours. He kept staring at the cassette player.

“That… was the first gift I gave her.” His dark brown eyes were misty, gazing into the past. “Our hundred-day anniversary. I gave her a cassette of my favorite songs. I thought it was more original than a mix CD or a link to a Spotify playlist.” He looked down, not quite at the floor. “She was so excited and happy. She told me she was going to play it as soon as she got home.”

Silence.

When Yoongi spoke again, there was a quiver of hopelessness.

“I never saw a tape player at her place.”

You saw the pain in his eyes.

“Did she play it even once?”

He shut his eyes, hiding them with his hair. His voice was getting smaller and smaller, almost disappearing.

“And then she smashed it.”

He was clutching your hand so tightly that your fingers felt numb, but you didn’t move away, listening carefully.

“She smashed it so that not even people like you could pick it up years later and listen to it. Smashed it so that not even one person in the whole world could appreciate it.”

“The Yoongi at the time appreciated it,” you said softly.

Yoongi hid his face with his hair.

“The Yoongi back then was a fucking fool,” he sighed.

“It’s not so easy to have a pure feeling.” You placed your other hand on top of his. “Not everyone can feel that way. It’s not fair when someone takes advantage of that.”

He hung his head. “I could have gotten out. I could have been a man and left. But I kept going back. I enabled her. I was just as bad.”

You sighed softly. “You know things like that are easy to say and impossible to do in the moment.”

“Aren’t you mad at me?”

Yoongi lifted his head, looking at you through his bangs. Not wanting to fully show you the pain in those dark brown orbs.

“For going back?”

You shook your head. “No.” Your lips curved into a sad smile. “I watched my dad crawl back over and over. I watched it happen right in front of my eyes.” You exhaled the tenseness from your chest. “He kept thinking that because they had kids he had to come back.” The next breath was rougher, pushing out all your anger. “I think it would have easier if she was my stepmother. But she wasn’t.”

And the fear stabbed through you.

“I keep thinking, what if I’m like her? What if I’m just like her and I don’t know?”

You shut your eyes.

“All of my previous relationships ended because I didn’t invest into them.”

You suddenly let go of Yoongi’s hand, pulling away, but Yoongi held on, held on desperately, interlocking his fingers with yours. You dropped your hand, all strength gone, measuring your breathing, trying to calm yourself down.

“What if…?”

Silence.

“We’ll never know unless we try.”

Pause.

“I can’t ask you to try after what you’ve been through, Yoongi.”

“You don’t have to ask me.”

You opened your eyes and slowly, slowly raised your head. Your eyes connected with his.

“You know you won’t be that way,” Yoongi murmured quietly. “Because you know and can recognize it. You recognized it when… when I saw nothing.”

You held his hand.

Fell back on the bed and the two of you stared at the ceiling, holding hands.

You laughed as you exited the train car with Yoongi. At the last stop, stepping out to the harsh streetlights and concrete.

“What do you mean, is that where I got my dance skills? It’s just a music video! They’re supposed to be weird!” you were saying, shouldering your backpack.

“That was bizarre and that’s putting it lightly,” Yoongi chuckled.

He didn’t look at the edge of the train station anymore. He was only looking at you, with his dark brown, cat-like eyes full of sparkle, smirking at you fully now. There was still space between you two at this particular place, this last train stop, but somehow it had gotten smaller. Shrunk. Not because he was shrinking either. He was a smoothed-out piece of paper now, still winkled; the old marks erased but still etched on the page. Not forgotten, but finally able to be written over.

“Get the fuck over here, Yoongi.”

Both of you froze.

Yoongi frowned and looked up. The pressure on your chest returned.

The woman. Yoongi’s girlfriend.

No.

He cocked an eyebrow at her.

“I told you it was over. It’s still over.”

Ex-girlfriend.

She furrowed her brows, bristling. “You can’t do this to me, Yoongi! I’m the only one who loves you! Me! Or did you forget, you stupid bastard?”

Yoongi paused. He took a deep breath and stared up at the streetlights, up to the sky. For a second, you despaired, thinking he was going to consider it, thinking he was going to walk away from you. Then he let out a puff of air and ticked his head.

“I don’t have anything more to say to you,” he said evenly, not looking at his ex-girlfriend.

Yoongi turned away.

He caught your eye. He wasn’t smiling, but you could tell there was something different this time. Resolve. He nudged your arm with his.

“Wanna race?”

The pressure on your chest lifted suddenly, leaving you breathless.

“What?” you gasped.

Yoongi chuckled. “You’re gonna lose.”

And then he tore off. You started, running after him, the young woman shouting after you two, but neither of you heard, neither of you listening, because you were running, running, chasing after that black parka with indignation, calling his name and him mockingly bellowing yours back, causing you to run faster, faster, smile on your face, tackling him into your front door laughing. Yoongi snickered, stating he won and you chastised him, telling him he cheated as you unlocked the door.

“Your fault for getting distracted.”

“I wasn’t ready!” you flailed, dumping your backpack onto the ground. You took out your phone and accidentally pressed the play button on your music. Your Bluetooth house speakers started blasting quirky guitar, snazzy drums, and twanging bass, ridiculous lyrics singing along. In frustration, you tossed your phone on the couch and began to wiggle your arms, pointing accusingly at Yoongi, as if to say, this isn’t over, but kicking off your shoes and prancing about your apartment, bouncing your shoulders to the beat.

Yoongi shook his head, but you didn’t care, singing on the top of your lungs.

“Don’t know a night without dancing, don’t like the night without dancing…”

“Is that dancing?” Yoongi interrupted, but you just wiggled up and down like a fish out of water, and Yoongi shook his head once more, looking exasperated. You spun, you frolicked, you whipped your hair around until you were lightheaded, not caring about anything, not caring about what Min Yoongi was seeing, because this was your time, your time to shine, your nighttime dance party.

You tripped on the couch and Yoongi darted forward to snatch you from the air. You laughed at your own clumsiness, dizzy from spinning so much, not realizing how close you were to Min Yoongi, not realizing until the song ended and you were staring up at him and he was staring down at you, still in his black parka and face mask squishing his cheeks.

The next song began.

But for some reason you couldn’t brush it off. You couldn’t get up and begin dancing again. You were only looking up into Yoongi’s eyes and he was looking down at you. You were reminded of his face that day in the grocery store, when the red yarn from your sweater unraveled due to the Velcro on his sleeve, reminded of that split second where you were happy and sad at the same time, happy and sad at the idea of red yarn attaching you and Yoongi together.

Happy because it was funny.

Sad because you knew you had to pull away.

Yoongi’s dark eyes looked down at you and he leaned down a little. Stopped.

You raised yourself a little. Stopped.

Pause.

Heart beating fast, so fast. Was it from running? From dancing like an idiot? From staring into Yoongi’s eyes? From being so close to him? From knowing you shouldn’t kiss him, because maybe he wasn’t ready yet, but really, really wanting to?

Yoongi leaned down the same time you rose upward.

Your foreheads knocked together.

“Ow!”

“Motherfuc–”

You swore and he jerked up, rubbing his forehead as you winced, massaging yours. It was a hard hit and you felt woozy from all the emotions and the physical exertion. You grabbed his arm for balance as you stood, and he grabbed yours, grimacing as he rubbed his head.

“Damn, that fucking hurt,” he mumbled.

“Ugh, am I bruised?” you asked, removing your hand.

He squinted. “No?” He leaned forward a little.

You leaned forward too. Stopping just a centimeter away. Yoongi’s eyes widened. You looked into his wide eyes with your wide eyes, waiting. You shouldn’t kiss him, because you didn’t know if he was okay with it, you didn’t know if he was even thinking about it. It was way too early, it was too soon, and you should just back off–

He pressed his lips to yours.

You both stared at each other with unblinking, huge eyes, lips on lips.

You jerked back, sputtering. “Y-You’re making this weird!”

Yoongi pointed to you and all around him. “And this bizarre indie rock isn’t making this weird?”

“D-Don’t blame the music,” you stuttered, fingers on your lips. “You shouldn’t stare like that!”

“You were s-staring back!” he accused.

“F-Fine!”

And then you grabbed his face and kissed him, deeply, fully. You kissed Min Yoongi, kissed his soft lips with your eyes squeezed shut, breathing in his scent and his presence, a presence you never wanted to go away. You didn’t know if it was right or wrong. You didn’t know if this was the start of a wonderful story or the end of a rollercoaster one, but it was yours, your cassette tape with your love songs, and you wanted Yoongi on the playlist, you wanted his song to play on repeat, and he grabbed your arms and pulled you close, kissing you back, murmuring your name, wrapping his arms around you, and you knew you had his song, his song on your cassette to dance to.

Don’t let this beginning end.

4. smut.

masterpost

#yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #yoongi fanfic #bts fanfic #bts series #min yoongi x reader #min yoongi x you

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bitsandbobsofwriting · 3 years

Text

The aftermath of Merlin snapping, and yelling at Arthur in the middle of the forest;

Arthur pushes for change, the gang takes bets on when Merthur will happen, and someone, somewhere, is grumpy.

Part 2 of Merlin’s Angry Outburst.

Part 1 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

Once Arthur has a first draft of the repeal, the first people he brings in on it (with Merlin’s approval, of course) are the 5 knights, Gwen, Gaius, and Morgana.

(Morgana, who later that evening comes back to Arthur's chamber in tears (Merlin is also there) to reveal her magic, and thank him for not being Uther.)

All of them enthusiastically agree, after only a little conversation.

Elyan and Leon are the most... dubious, but only because of the practical factor, they don't disagree with the actual repeal.

After months of the gang working in secret, they reveal their best draft to the council. At least half the council are new members that Arthur appointed, the rest are left over from Uther’s time.

They argue back and forth for a while, half vs half. A few of the older members, who were around before the purge, slowly start changing their minds.

In the end, it takes them maybe a month to get a majority, and Arthur overrules the remaining opposition. He is King after all, technically, he doesn’t even have to have a council.

Days after the agreement is reached, Arthur goes out personally to collect a few specific Druids, who had been waiting just outside the border for the go ahead.

It takes maybe another month to go through all the laws thoroughly, changing and editing and altering what needs to be altered. With the help of Arthur's close advisors on the political aspects, and the help of the Druids, Merlin, and Gaius, on the magical aspects (what should be allowed freely, what should be monitored, and what should remain fully banned).

The city celebrates when the announcement is made, they all loved the new King anyway, and had been overjoyed with the drop in executions, and deliberate ignoring of small instances of magic.

After a feast to celebrate the new found freedom among the people, the gang gathers once more, in private, and Merlin tells a shortened version of the story he'd told Arthur all those months ago.

None of them are that surprised (Gaius, Morgana, and Lancelot already knew, of course).

If they hadn't suspected Merlin of being a sorcerer before this whole thing started (Leon, Gwaine, and Gwen definitely suspected) , then they had certainly begun to in the last few months. They cheer when Merlin finishes telling them "just how often I've saved your oblivious arses" .

They cheer even louder when Arthur announces that he would be made court sorcerer, and it would be made official in a ceremony before the week ended.

There are no cheers when Morgana stands.

Curious eyes land on her, probably due to how terrified she looks, but the small encouraging nods and little smiles she gets from her brother (her Brother), Merlin, and Gwen, give her the strength she needs to tell everyone of her magic as well.

They see she is frightened, they imagine how difficult it must have been, being at first Uther’s ward, and then his daughter. They smile gently, and she receives hugs a plenty. Once all the congratulations are out of the way, she sits back down next to Gwen, still shaky and full of adrenaline, but happy.

She spends the remainder of the group’s quiet celebrations with her hand gripped in Gwen's under the table.

(Read this how you want, I personally envision it as the start of something)

So the days draw on, Merlin is announced Court Sorcerer, Arthur hires another manservant and gives Merlin a large set of chambers in the same hallways as Arthur's, complete with all the books on magic Arthur can find, and several of the magical artefacts that had previously been kept locked away (Merlin and Arthur are the only ones who are able to gain access to the room, something magicky I guess).

(No one mentions that that corridor is supposed to be for royalty only. Leon figures they're bound to realise that they're in love with each other any day now, and then Merlin will practically be royalty anyway so... might as well cut out the middle bit of having to shuffle chambers again later on).

The kingdom is prospering, and for months after the initial announcement, and implementations of the new laws, sorcerers and nobles from all over Albion, visit Camelot, to give congratulations to the King.

They give gifts and provide knowledge.

The Druids, however, are a slightly different story.

The ones who had been helping with the paperwork, had been... odd(?) around Merlin. But they respected his wish to keep all of that under wraps, or at least until it was announced publicly.

Arthur and Gaius know the whole Emrys story. Lancelot and Morgana know bits of it... but other than that... as far as anyone is concerned, the newly promoted Court Sorcerer is just another wizard.

The new Druids entering the kingdom are paying brief respects to the Forever King (I mean... at this point, he's still only King of Camelot... which is what he was before the magic ban repeal), before staring in reverence at the Court Sorcerer stood by his side.

They respect his wishes to keep the worshipping and gift giving to a minimum, though they still come to him for requests of miracles and ask him to perform druid ceremonies (blessings and name-givings and weddings and funerals (though they prefer to call them celebrations of life, rather than commiserations of death) and such).

Merlin can only brush off so many displays of such awe before the rest of The Gang demands to know what’s up, at which point he has to come clean about the whole... “Most Powerful Warlock To Ever Walk The Earth” thing.

Much to Merlin’s chagrin (and everyone else's amusement) the Druids still insist on calling him Emrys. The stubborn ones sometimes even go for "My Lord Emrys", which gets them a scowl from Merlin (and barely concealed laughter from everyone else).

Maybe... later on... when Morgana is more comfortable with her magic, after a few months practicing with Merlin (with a supportive Gwen Always at her side) , she is announced as the Court Seer.

Merlin had never had much luck with prophetic visions, but once Morgana’s fear died down, once she learned to let it flow, and breathe through it, the visions come easier, and kinder.

She stops seeing only visions of doom, and worst case scenarios, instead she has dreams of the many paths the future may take.

She does not panic when a path seems grim and dark, for she has a King and a Warlock and Gwen, by her side. Always. And they work through the future together.

So the ban has been repealed officially for around 6 months.

Arthur is a couple months away from completing his second year as King. And he and Merlin are still beating around the bush.

The betting pool for when they’ll finally get together has been growing bigger and bigger. Practically the whole castle is in on it now, with Gwen and Morgana as the ring leaders. Whoever wins... will be very lucky.

(It's Leon in the end, he pays attention, and he know what his boys are like. But he's a noble and has no need for the money, he pays for a few rounds of drinks and donates the rest to one of children's homes in the lower town).

But the war comes first.

Camelot has been prospering, and has many supporters throughout Albion, but one of the kingdoms, it doesn't matter which, you decide, does NOT like this.

Scouts and small patrols have been needling Camelot’s borders for months now, and Arthur and his Council (and Inner Council) have been making quiet preparations. They know that some sort of... something, is coming soon.

Especially when Morgana begins to dream of battles and blood and lightening.

They prepare for, and expect, a full scale war, but they hope for some negotiations and a peace treaty with the opposition.

Their hopes are dashed, when a messenger is escorted into the throne room, wearing The Opposition’s colours, with a letter.

Said letter is an angry rebuttal of everything Camelot stands for, full of accusations of abandoning tradition, and spitting in the face of great leaders, of which this soft boy-king should NOT be counted as.

At the end, there was an official declaration of war.

The messenger boy was obviously scared to death, and once Arthur read the P.S, which invited Arthur to torture and/or execute him to the whatever extent he wants, he understood why. Without any hesitation, he offers the boy a job in the stables, a new wardrobe of clothes, and a servant’s bed in the castle.

After the official council meeting on the matter, setting up war committees, laying out contingency plans, organising the distribution of emergency evacuation plans, and discussing potential aid that could be requested from allies, Arthur pulls the gang together, for their own meeting.

“We knew this was coming, and there is no need to panic yet. Our outer borders are well patrolled, and we’re still getting up to date reports. The city walls hold strong, but I want to send out patrols to warn the villages of what’s coming. Start closer to the border, and work our way in. Leon?”

“My Lord, I have teams prepared for exactly that already, I just need to give the word and they’ll go.”

“Good. Morgana, I need you to try and keep focusing your visions, if we have even a small idea of how they might try to initiate the first battle, it’ll be a huge advantage.”

“Me and Merlin have been practising some new techniques to control where and when I can see, we’ll write everything down, and ask the Druids if they’ve seen anything as well.”

Arthur holds in a smile at the confidence in her voice. He is unendingly proud of how far his sister had come, and made a mental note to tell her that when all this was over.

“Brilliant, keep me in the loop. Gwen, when we’re done here, go and let the forgery know, the Royal Household will pay them extra to push out as much long range ammunition as they can. Arrows and crossbow bolts, we need as many as they can produce.” Gwen nods, and Arthur finally looks towards Merlin:

“And Merlin, I need you to be ready. Don’t wear yourself out too much in the next few weeks, I need you in good condition, if we’re to win this with minimal casualties-”

He glances over at Morgana before he continues:

“If the two of you could also ask the Druids if they have any volunteer healers. Make sure they know they aren’t obligated to come, but any help in the infirmaries would be greatly appreciated.” Morgana nods once more, as does Merlin, before he speaks:

“There’s a camp a couple hours ride outside the city at the moment, we’ll head out at first light-” He pauses and closes his eyes for a second, tilting his head, before looking to Morgana:

“They’re expecting us.”

Arthur addresses the room again:

“Right. I think that’s all for now, anyone have anything to add?”

Gaius responds after a moment:

“My Lord, if I could make a request for a few servants to help me set up supplies for the infirmary? Extensive preparations will need to be made to ensure that I have all I’ll need. Preferably people with rough herbal knowledge, if at all possible.”

Arthur nods straight away, responding:

“Yes, of course, I’ll ask the Housekeeper and the Steward who they can spare this evening, and they’ll be ready for you in the morning. Anything else?” At the silence in the room, Arthur tells everyone to get to work.

Leon marches straight down to the training grounds (Lancelot, Gwaine, Percival, and Elyan following him) to ring the summoning bell and inform the knights of the developments, and their tasks.

Gwen heads straight to the forgery (her and Elyan still oversee work there, but they have employees (and a few trainees) to run it) to give the Kings order.

Gaius shuffles out, and makes his way back to his quarters, already making mental lists of ingredients needed, and work to be done.

Arthur, Morgana, and Merlin are left, the royal siblings thinking to themselves, and Merlin thinking to someone else. Arthur contemplates that the whole mental link thing he had going on with the Druids was extremely useful.

Both his and Morgana’s thoughts were interrupted by Merlin huffing, and clenching his fists as he opens his eyes, obviously unhappy with whatever was said:

“Merlin?” From Morgana has the Court Sorcerer looking up from scowling at the table. He replies after wiping the frown off his face:

“Oh, it’s fine. They just made a... stupid suggestion is all. Don’t worry about it.”

“Stupid? Doesn’t sound like the Druids. What was it?”

Merlin looks mildly uncomfortable at that, and replies slowly:

“It... doesn’t matter. I’ll tell you another time. It’s late, you should practice some meditation and head to sleep, no potions tonight. And remember to keep some parchment and a quill by your bed, so you can scribble down anything you see-”

Merlin stands abruptly and heads towards the door:

“-I’m going to check the wards on the outer wall, and push a little more energy into the wells. I’ll see you both bright an early.” With that, Merlin heads out the room swiftly.

Arthur looks to his sister questioningly, but she shrugs as she responds:

“Who knows. “I’ll tell you later” means he doesn’t want you to know, OR he’s hoping I’ll forget because he doesn’t want either of us to know. He’s right though, I should meditate for a while-”

Morgana stands at this:

“- hopefully I’ll see you before we head off, if not, I suppose it’ll be dinner in the evening. Good night, brother.” Morgana leaves the room gracefully, heading in the direction of her chambers.

Arthur thinks for only a moment, before rushing off, catching up with Merlin as he readied his horse, preparing for the journey to the outer walls:

“I’ll come with you. I find I quite enjoy watching you do magic, and to be perfectly honest, I could do with some fresh air to help me think.”

Arthur pretends to ignore the slight blush that dusts Merlin’s cheeks, and readies his own horse. The two of them ride out of the stables and make the journey down the cobbled roads in comfortable silence, side by side.

They take their time on the journey, and the 15 minutes of companionable silence is finally broken by Arthur, who looks at Merlin curiously, as he says:

“So what did they suggest?”

Merlin looks up sharply at that, broken from his deep train of thought as he dumbly replies “What?”

“The Druids. What was the stupid suggestion?” Merlin’s eyes widen at that, and he blushes once more as he looks determinedly forward:

“Oh. That. I told you, it doesn’t-”

“Merlin...”

“Oh fine! They suggested that I... that I forge a mental link with you. Like the one I have with them.” The sorcerer purses his lips at that, and continues to avoid Arthur’s gaze:

“You can do that? Well... would it be such a bad idea? I mean we aren’t going to be able to meet and discuss things as often as I’d like through this whole ordeal. AND you’re basically the Kingdom’s powerhouse, I’m sort of relying on your magical know-how here. Surely it wouldn’t be a bad thing? For us to be able to converse across the battle fields?”

Arthur, in an effort to not be hurt, reminds himself that he doesn’t know all that much about magic, and it very well could be a stupid suggestion, instead of one that Merlin is just personally opposed to.

Merlin, in response, looks to Arthur in great shock, before sighing and looking down to his horses mane:

“It.... is possible. And fairly easy, technically. But it would be painful, AND permanent. I wouldn’t be able to undo it after we won. And a temporary connection takes far too much energy to maintain, even for a short time. I just figured you wouldn’t want me in your head for the rest of our lives.” He tries to inject a little humour into his words, but it falls flat, and he just seems sad.

Arthur pretends he doesn’t notice however, and responds quickly:

“How painful are we talking? I mean I’ve been hurt pretty badly before. And... how exactly does it work? Would we be able to read each other’s mind constantly, without the other knowing? Or what?”

Merlin raises his eyebrows in shock at that, and his answer comes out slowly as he looks at Arthur:

“Like... a really bad headache? Imagine the hardest you’ve ever been hit, without passing out. It would last for a few minutes after the connection is initially forged, but would fade slowly over the next day or so. And no. Once the connection is established we wouldn’t be in each other’s head all the time, we would just be able to sort of... project our voices to one another. Other thoughts would be safe, even if you were thinking about me, I wouldn’t hear it unless you were thinking to me... if that makes sense.”

By the end of his explanation, he’s looking nervously at the King, who is deep in thought:

“Hmm. Ok. I... only if you agree but... it might not be a bad idea. Even after the war is over. There have definitely been times where I’ve needed your opinion on something but you’ve been elsewhere, or we’ve been in the presence of someone else. Of course we’ve been fine so far, if you don’t want to, but-”

Merlin interrupts him, speaking quickly:

“I’m fine with it. I agree, it would be useful. So... I can bring what we need back from the camp tomorrow?”

Arthur nods firmly:

“Yes. The sooner the better, we can do it tomorrow evening, if that’s enough time for you?” Merlin once again looks shocked at this, as Arthur stares at him:

“Oh! Yeah, Yes. That’s fine. Like I said, it’s not particularly difficult, and I can ask Gaius to prepare us something for the pain during the day. Are you... are you sure? It is Permanent.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and huffs:

“Yes, you said that already Merlin. Are you sure?”

Merlin nodded his head decidedly, and spoke confidently:

“Yes. You’re right, it’s not a bad idea. Come on, if we hurry, we’ll make it to the walls, and then to the main well, and then back to the castle, before dark.”

The pair of them hurry their horses, and after another 10 minutes of comfortable silence, they finally reach the City Gates.

The guards give a quick bow, and The King and The Court Sorcerer jump off their horses before handing the reigns to one of the Gate stablehands.

Arthur (and the guards) watch in barely concealed wonder as Merlin presses his hands against the rock of the wall, and closes his eyes.

The golden glow can still be seen from below his eyelids, and he hums slightly as he frowns in concentration, seeming to push into the wall.

Arthur sees a short of... sheen, ripple across the rock, and extend into the sky. Merlin steps back and nods, admiring his handy work:

“They’re holding strong, I’ve extended the height as well. Kilgharrah and Aithusa should be the only ones able to get over it without alerting me now, from the air at least-”

Merlin heads to retake his horse, Arthur following him, before he continues:

“Though I still want to check the tunnels again at some point in the next few days.”

“Of course. Relax Merlin, it’s barely begun, and the borders still hold strong. We’ve plenty of time before things kick off in any way.” He makes sure to speak quietly. A public announcement hasn’t been made yet, and it would be bad if rumours started spreading before The King had time to put together a proper disclosure.

Merlin nods distractedly, and urges his horse to go faster as he heads towards the main well, in the town square. It’s late, not long until sunset, so there shouldn’t be many, if any, people there. Arthur speaks again:

“Why are we visiting the well? I wasn’t aware of any problems?”

“There aren’t any, but once the announcement is made, and once the outer villages are told what’s happening, we’ll have hundreds, probably thousands, of people flock to the city for safety. I just want to make sure we’re prepared for such an influx, and boost our water levels a little.”

Arthur nods at his response, but doesn’t say anything. He chooses instead to admire the man Merlin had become. He held himself differently, more strong, confident in who he was. Just like he had back when he was still a manservant, he served Arthur, and his people, above and beyond his job description. Merlin took upon himself, not only the politics he was supposed to oversee, but the personal safety of both the King, and every Camelot citizen, and he did it all with an alarming amount of grace.

Arthur sometimes catches himself thinking that it was almost as if Merlin was built to be a king. He may not like the spotlight, but he was a protector, and leader, unlike anything Arthur had ever seen before.

“I don’t think I ever thanked you, Merlin. It feels like years ago now, that you yelled at me in a forest.” He says it with a grin, but Merlin flinches. He continues before The Sorcerer interrupts him though:

“Really Merlin. Thank you. You were right, I would’ve got there in the end, but it wasn’t fair for people to suffer in the mean time, and you took the fall in their place. You’re a hero to your people... and to me. You should be proud of your accomplishments, I know I am.”

Arthur resists the urge to duck his head as Merlin looks at him in bewilderment, a definite flush on his cheeks as he replies:

“I... thank you, Arthur. I always had faith in you-” Merlin begins to grin before he continues:

“-and besides, someone had to knock you down a peg. Perhaps you should hire someone to take you into the forest and yell at you every once in a while.”

Arthur laughs at that, and Merlin tries to push down the blush as Arthur responds:

“Now Merlin, why on earth would I hire someone for such a job, when I already have you?”

Merlin chuckles as he answers:

“Yeah, and don’t you forget it, My Lord. Hold the horses, I’ll just be a minute.” With that, Arthur realises they’ve made it to the well, and dismounts as Merlin has, holding both of the horses reigns as he watches Merlin approach the well.

The Sorcerer crouches down, and once again closes his eyes in concentration as he presses his hands into the stone of the well. The glow is a little less bright this time, but Arthur admires it nonetheless.

Merlin finishes quickly, and gathers his horse from Arthur once more, nodding towards the castle.

Arthur follows as Merlin hurries towards the looming building. He wasn’t sure why he was in such a rush, but he only begins questions it when Merlin hurriedly hands the horses of to a stablehand, and continues to run up the castle steps.

Arthur can only just keep up with Merlin, not having the breath to ask him what’s wrong, before Merlin suddenly comes to a stop, catching his breath for a moment to go through a door leading to the highest balcony on the West of the castle:

“Merlin... what.... what are you-”

Merlin wordlessly interrupts The King as he points to the skyline, the sun only a few minutes away from touching the horizon.

There’s not a cloud in sight, and the sky is painted in oranges and pinks in front of them, bleeding into deep purples and blues behind the castle.

Merlin finally mutters, not looking away from the sunset:

“Call me a girl all you want Arthur, but nothing compares to this. It’s beautiful, I come to watch it whenever I’ve got the time.”

Arthur had only glanced briefly at the sunset before looking back at Merlin in wonder, a fond smile on his face (not that Merlin would notice).

He stares at the side of Merlin’s face, the orange sky making the gold in his eyes look even brighter, and the glare of the fading sun making his hair shine. A gentle breeze has Merlin shiver slightly, and Arthur’s smile widens as he responds, so quietly he’s not even sure if Merlin hears him:

“Hmm. Beautiful.” He doesn’t look away.

THIS IS COMPLETED! All 5 parts have been posted:)

If y’all want my thoughts on anything specific let me know✌️

300 notes · View notes

sukirichi · 3 years

Text

a thing or two (m.)

tutor geto has a thing or two to teach you.

cw. oral sex (f and m receiving), lube, unprotected sex, sweet! geto, halloween setting so priest! geto, age gap, slight body worship, fingering, overall romantic sex, kitchen counter sex, dirty talk, lots of kissing, mutual masturbation, intoxication, pwp, unedited as always eep

note. for my right boob @sixeyesgojo my first ever geto fic and i hope it’s to your liking...writing this with a frozen arm and numb fingers weeeee, i almost became a geto simp.

Halloween festivals have never felt livelier in the city. People dressed up in various outfits milled about the events place, your drink nearly sloshing on the ground the more they bumped into you.

Bass and music boosted from the large speakers smack in the middle of the grounds, and everyone danced to their heart’s content, you and your friends a huge inclusion to the crowd.

You don’t really go out to parties that much. Hell, you don’t even drink.

But after numerous encouragements from your friends, you’re now dressed in she-devil skin-tight black dress, black lipstick, and red horns placed on your head. It’s hard not to feel confident and sexy – the kick of the liquor is settling down as well – when you’ve got human eyes, vampiric red eyes, ghoul sclera lenses and even a fucking Cyclops eye turning your way.

You’re excitedly grinding against your friends, the whoops and cheers mixing in with slurred mumbles of the lyrics.

The night is young and so are you.

This may have been your third or fourth drink, you don’t really know, but probably some way along the second since you’re not really hammered. You’re somewhat sober enough to feel large hands gripping your hips, a protest of not tonight, Dracula about to leave your lips when you come face to face with a face you never thought you would see here.

Clad in a long black cloak, a silver cross hung around his neck, his dark hair in a neat bun and black earrings a perfect completion to the hauntingly stunning look he pulled off, your throat ran dry.

“Sir Geto?”

“Hey, it’s you,” your tutor spoke up with unmasked interest, his curious eyes trailing down your revealing outfit…the way your dress hugged all your curves and how your breasts are practically popping from your top. Geto smirked, “And please, we’re not studying at home, just call me Geto. Surprised to see you here.”

“Well, it’s Halloween, would be a shame if I didn’t go out,” laughing nervously, you found yourself acting out of habit as you twirled a strand of hair to your finger. “I’m surprised to see you here. I thought you’d have work.”

“Nah, the boys and I are free for tonight,” he answered with a grin, nodding to where his friends – a really tall white haired man and a bored blond who looks like he’s ready to leave anytime – dancing and drinking at the corner. Geto must’ve felt your unnecessary prolonged stare at his attractive friends for he’s pulling you closer again, not sexually or even hidden with motives, but because it’s hard to hear each other through the music.

“Hey, do you wanna dance?” Nodding, you waved goodbye to your friends. They didn’t really notice considering they’re way too hammered and occupied dancing with others. Surely, they wouldn’t notice your little escapade.

Geto’s warm hands leads you somewhere out the bar and into the open grounds, where cups are already littered on the grass and people are drunkenly shaking their ass to everything and everyone.

It’s a ridiculous sight that has both you and Geto laughing.

“So…you liking the festival so far?”

“It’s…pretty fun,” you admit and loop your arms around him with ease. Normally, you wouldn’t be doing this.

He may not be your actual professor or teacher, but he’s still a family friend of your friend who’s been tutoring you for the past semester and is basically the only reason you can endure math. Granted, he’s always been deadly attractive, but you’ve never really been affected by it, not up this close, anyway.

But you’re most definitely closer now, and Geto’s forehead is pressed against yours as he sways you both side to side.

“My first time drinking and I feel so light,” Geto hums at your slightly intoxicated eyes, his grin turning gummy when your curious hands trail up his robes to experimentally grope his pecs.

“First time, huh? We’ll I’ll be here to hold you up if you feel dizzy.”

“Thanks,” you beamed up at him. Geto, albeit being at least seven years older, feels so youthful that you’re not really bothered by the age gap. Again, it could be the alcohol, but he feels so warm, so nice, that you lean back to survey him this time around. “You look great, by the way, though you’re dressed up as…”

Geto rolls his eyes before you can finish.

“I know, the priest costume looks weird, but we found it pretty funny so here I am.”

“No, no, it looks great,” you wave off, your smile freezing on your face when a nostalgic song starts to blast through the speakers. In your head, in your head! “Zombies by the Cranberries. A classic.”

Geto’s hands snake around your waist before they hover over your ass, his eyes mischievous and slanted as he mumbles, “It’s a great song to dance with a perfect little devil with.”

You don’t know who leaned it first.

Not like it mattered, when Geto tasted strongly of strawberry flavored bear and cheesecake. An odd combination, even more so with his spicy cologne, but it only has you pulling you in closer to him.

He’s such a great kisser. Legs turned to jelly, knees weakening and lips locking in rhythm to the beat – it feels like it’s just the two of you in that moment. Geto smiles through the kiss, tongue prodding your lips to open before you’re gasping for air. Your attempt to regain air back to your lungs is cut off when Geto leans closer to slip his tongue inside your mouth, greedily sucking on it until you’re moaning in his arms.

Soon enough, you’re both holding on to each other to the point you might as well be fucking openly.

Geto is cupping your cheeks as he excitedly kisses you, his smiles intoxicating and the bubbling laughter he lets out much like music to your ears.

“Yo, Geto, are you sure about this? She looks like a minor, dude,” one of his friends speak up, and that’s when you see his white haired friend – who has extremely azure eyes that you can’t tell whether it’s contacts or not – crossing his arms on his chest, though his amused smirk said otherwise.

If anything, the guy is only suggestive, wiggling his brows up and down as he puts his fingers into a V shape, his tongue poked out.

You snort at his gestures, and just like how Geto did before, he turns your cheeks towards him again, his gaze feral and wanting. “I assure you,” Geto murmurs over your lips, “She’s not.” Eyes wide and all attention to him the way he wants, Geto’s smirk is cunning before he leans down to capture your lips in another heated kiss.

Stumbling back to his apartment turned out to be a lot more challenging. With the urgent need to relieve each other of this burning in your cores, you and Geto have made out everywhere, hands kneading each other’s skin until you fall awkwardly at his bed.

There’s no time to worry about it though. Not when he’s eagerly unbuttoning his robe, his dark hair messed up and a few strands shielding his eyes that glimmer when you struggle to squeeze out of your dress. He helps you get it off before he hovers over you, knocking your knee with his to make you fall open. You’re left completely vulnerable and naked under his predatory gaze, large hands smoothing over your skin – from your ankle, up to your thighs and the dips in your body, before he settles right above your breasts, nipples hard between his fingers.

“Fuck, you look stunning,” he praises, biting his lip at the same time you drunkenly giggle. “Bet you taste perfect too.”

“Only one way to find out, then.”

“Come here,” Get growls and rips off your panties, your half-hearted protests completely missed in his haze of pleasure. Upon seeing you bare for him, wet and pussy lips glistening, Geto groans deep in his chest. “Such a pretty pussy. Shoulda fucked you a long time ago when we were alone for so many hours,” curling his upper lip, he begins to settle down between your legs, peering up from you under his lashes as he teasingly blows air over your core that has you shivering. “I could’ve taught you so many more things, don’t you think?”

“Careful there, father, wouldn’t want you to sin tonight.”

“Oh no, you don’t get to do that to me tonight, sweetheart,” he laughs evilly, joined by you afterwards at the little teasings. “You’re a little devil and I’m nothing but a mortal man. Of course I’d fall to the consequences of my sinful desires.”

Sitting up with your elbows resting on the mattress, you tug him by his cross, hard. “Here’s your one way ticket to hell then,” you dared, letting your legs spread wider and pushing his head down. Geto inhales sharply when the tip of his nose nudges your clit, drawing out a shuddered moan from you. “Feast for yourself.”

“Hmm, you’re a whole ass fucking meal, baby,” he marveled, giving little teasing bites on your inner thigh that you’re sure would leave a mark. “I’m going to devour you.”

Geto isn’t kidding.

You clearly undermined him, or perhaps you knew all along what he could do and you just wanted to bring out this side for him, because riled up Geto who was excitedly sucking on your clit like a man starved had you seeing stars in the whites of his ceiling.

“Hnggrr, G-Geto, fuck!”

“Yeah, you like that?” he chuckles from your pussy, the vibrations of it sending electricity jolting down deep to your core. Geto begins to trail down, his tongue playfully poking your entrance as slick coats his muscle and cheeks, licking and kissing everywhere that you actually find it hard to keep quiet. Narrowing your eyes at him – and you wished you didn’t, because you’ve never seen a more lewd sight before – you slap your palm over your mouth, the only thing keeping your legs apart the strong grip he had on you. “Don’t be shy, babe. We’ve got the whole place to ourselves tonight. Scream as loud as you want. Let the neighbors hear how good I’m fucking you.”

“Y-you’re so lewd, fuck-” you announce, but the sounds of your squelching being sucked by his eager, unquenched self is even more lewd. “Geto, I’m coming, I’m coming!”

Geto just pushes you over the edge, ignoring the way your thighs are shaking and you’re pushing him away once the overstimulation becomes too much to handle. You giggle when he sighs at not being able to eat you out anymore, but his glistening face is a lot more arousing than entertaining. Struggling to catch your breath, Geto smirks at how easily you’ve come undone, groaning as he wipes your juices with his thumb and licking his lips afterwards. He bends forward as he stares at you the whole while, slipping his digit through your mouth in a silent demand for you to taste yourself.

Never pulling away from holding his gaze, you wrap your lips around his thumb, swirling your tongue and sucking just hard enough that he absentmindedly humps the air.

“You okay? You look like you’re about to pass out.”

“Shut up. You literally ate my soul out,” you stare at the trail of saliva connected to his finger, the image so fucking dirty yet arousing that you begin to clench around nothing. Meanwhile, Geto’s biceps flex as he runs his hand through his hair, and that’s when you see he’s so rock hard that he probably feels uncomfortable. “Do you want me to…?”

“You don’t have to. It’s okay.”

“Seriously, Geto, you’re declining an offer to get your dick sucked?”

“I mean, I’m not against it but-” you shove his boxers down and immediately take him into your mouth, no foreplay at all, and your teeth graze his dick as you do so. Geto’s hips sutter forward in a knee-jerk movement he almost falls down on his bed, but catches him on the last second to not crush you. He ogled at your cock-stuffed mouth and puffy cheeks, his breaths sharp from the pleasure he’s receiving. “Sh-shit, not so fast, baby. I don’t want to cum like this.”

“Hmm.”

Staring up at him innocently, Geto closes his eyes and runs his finger through your locks, slightly bucking his hips deeper into your mouth. Even in his euphoria, Geto is careful to let you go at your own pace, though his self-controls falter a little bit the moment you fondle his balls.

His eyes snap open. Teeth bared and belly flexing, you keep rendering him frozen with how you take him in deeper until his hair is tickling your nose, cheeks sucked in and hollow as you slide his cock along your warm walls. “Oh, fuck, you’re really a fucking devil, right there, yeah,” he hisses, taking a handful of your hair so he could get a better look at you. “Well, who would’ve thought? Always seemingly so innocent. Who knew you could suck dick like this?”

“You like it,” you tease while pumping his shaft up and down and giving kitten licks to the head, where Geto smirks at you.

“Yeah, I love it,” he corrects, his cock twitching on your dainty hands that look so tiny in comparison to his girth. “But no way I’m coming tonight anywhere than your pussy,” Geto pushes you back down on the bed where he showers you with heated kisses, wrists pinned under his grip and hickeys left everywhere on your neck. His sticky fingers trail down your skin to finger you, the sensation too much, too good, too wrong, and that thought alone that’s been drumming into you as the intoxication fades away make you both pause.

“I-I…”

“It’s okay, just relax,” he reassures, withdrawing his fingers that can’t get past your pussy that has now tightened the minute he touched you down there. Geto sends you another approving glance before he pumps his shaft and up down, aligning it with your entrance and kissing you flat on the lips the whole time. “I’ll put it in, okay? Tell me if anything hurts.”

“Hey, hey. Breathe,” he cups your cheek while looking deep into your eyes, though that slight pinch on his forehead let you know he experienced the same discomfort.

Geto must’ve realized both of you aren’t getting anywhere tonight because soon, he’s falling back to this side, eyeing your pussy with longing and lust before his arm lands over his face. “Well… Maybe not tonight.”

“Geto,” you begin, turning on your side in hopes of easing the pained frown on his face. “I’m so sorry…”

“Hey, it’s fine, really, don’t worry about it,” he blinks at you and rests back on the pillows, his hand already wrapped around his hard, throbbing cock where the tip is leaking. “Let me just relieve myself. I’m so fucking hard it hurts.”

You don’t know what you’re expecting, but definitely not for him to jack off right beside you. You watch; perplexed, awed, undeniably aroused as he holds your gaze, his jaw clenched and accentuating his sharp features more from the movement. Geto is absolutely shameless as he fucks his own fist that is cum-stained, beads of white pre-cum coating his incredibly thick shaft with thick veins.

It’s so wrong yet so fucking hot that you can’t help but do the same.

Sneaking your fingers down to your kitty, you rub your clit and bite your lip, pleasuring yourself the same way he does. Geto exhales in wonder from watching you masturbate, his muscles ripping and arm so buff, you wonder why he hasn’t folded you in half yet.

Oh right, you’re too anxious to ever have his dick inside you, yet you’re shamelessly rubbing circles in your clit. Spreading your pussy lips open, you slide your fingers down and collect your juices, gasping right beside Geto who’s angrily pumping his dick.

Geto suddenly leans back on his calves to stare at your pussy and jacks off, catching some cum from your pussy lips which makes you giggle in surprise, but he comes back to fisting himself. The eroticism of your actions pushed you both to the edge until the both of you came, his dick softening and his cum shooting all over your thighs.

“God, you’re so sexy, I could stare at you all day.”

“That was…”

“Yeah,” he breathes out in stuttered chuckles, throwing a leg over the bed as he stands to hs full naked, cum-stained glory. “Hey, I’ll clean you up. Do you want something to drink or eat? A glass of water, maybe?”

“That sounds great.”

Geto comes back with a shirt of a rock festival and wipes his cum from your stomach, then folds it to wipe your arousal off. He helps you settle inside his oversized shirt that is warm, comfortable, and smells so faintly of him that the exhaustion of tonight’s events is rapidly coming to you.

“Come here. It’s pretty cold tonight,” You gladly cuddle with him, your head laid on top of his buff arm while his free one is wrapped around you.“How’s your studies going? Do you understand math a little better now?”

Despite his innocent queries, his actions are everything but.

His hands are trailing up to slowly to stroke your nipples. Geto thumbs at the hardened peaks before he softly squeezes your breast, letting his hand repeatedly graze over your sensitive nipples as if it’s second nature to him. It turns you on so bad, but you’re exhausted and you’re rubbing your thighs together, sighing and quietly moaning every now and then.

“A-a little, I guess,” you answer, a little bit distracted. He’s modest and no longer aroused (judging from his state inside his boxers), so you try not to start something you’re not prepared to finish. “Hey, Geto, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

“Are you more of an ass or boobs person?”

Geto handles the question with ease. “As long as the proportions are right, I like both, and I like yours,” he grins, cupping your boobs in his hand as if to prove a point. Then, he tugs your (his) shirt up just enough to reveal the erect nipples, his eyes narrowed before he sucks lightly on the sides. You gasp at his ministrations but voice no complaints, and neither does he when your nails dig into his arm. “Yours are so beautiful.”

“Flatterer,” you playfully punch his chest, but Geto only chuckles and brings you closer to his chest, his lips warm on top of your forehead. “I’m pretty sleepy…”

“Then sleep. I’ll still be here tomorrow, don’t worry. You’re free to stay as long as you like.”

The next day, Geto is already gone from the room. You’re not worried because one) this is a one night stand with your hot tutor, you’re not supposed to be attached, and two) the smell of pancakes wafting from the slight crack of his door is very much present.

Stretching your arms out, you pad to where Geto is busy flipping pancakes. He’s already dressed comfortably in a white shirt and dark sweats, turning around to smile at you at the sound of your footsteps. “There’s a naked girl in my room? Wow.”

“It’s not like you haven’t seen everything last night.”

Geto doesn’t need to gesture you to come closer to him, you’re already too pulled in by his presence that you’re wrapping an arm around his neck while he kisses you flat on the lips.

“Doesn’t mean I get tired of it,” he teases, lips lingering above yours before he drifts down the crook your neck, voice deep and husky as he greets, “’Morning. Can you pass me the syrup?”

Nodding, you bend over the counter. The syrup is located in the bottom of the pantry and you’re halfway to opening the glass panels when you hear Geto shut off the stove. His hands come to grip on your hips as he grinds his hard cock on your exposed bottom, his lips hovering over your ear. “On second thought…I think I’ll have my meal a little differently.”

“G-Geto.”

“I bought lube while you were asleep. Maybe it’ll make you loosen a little bit?” Geto touches you down there, his eyes glimmering with mischief once he witnesses for himself your state. “You’re already wet babe,” he announces, proudly presenting his wet fingers right before your eyes. “Wait for me.”

Nervously, you fix your shirt and hair as Geto runs to the living room where he pulls out a bottle of lube and discards his shirt somewhere. He wastes no time in lifting you up to the counter where dives between your legs, and you’re tugging at his hair as his tongue eagerly licks your wetness.

“Geto, ah, stop playing around!”

“Wasn’t planning on it, babe, I’m a little impatient,” Geto stands up again to kiss you for a quick second before he grabs the lube and spreads it all over his cock, his fingers experimentally prying your hole open to see if you could take it.

Once his digit slides in with ease, you moan the same time he grins wickedly.

You think he’ll go straight for it but Geto takes his time with you, making sure you’re properly stretched open before he splits you in his half with his cock. He’s really thick, after all, and your tight little cunt needs to adjust well to make sure you enjoy it rather than be in pain. Once satisfied, you pull Geto by the collar and wrap one leg around his waist to bring him closer, gasping when his tip slides between your pussy lips.

Both of you are too lost in a daze of lust to be able to speak properly. One nod from you is all he needs before he’s slipping inside your warm walls, his head falling into the juncture of your neck where he keeps grunting on how good you feel around him.

You can’t help but scratch down his back the deeper he drives his hips, the mere movement of his cock sliding against the bumpy drags of your tissues making you fall apart.

Not a minute later, your shirt is bunched up under your breasts, free for Geto to suck on while he fucks the living daylights out of you. His knuckles turn white from how hard he’s gripping the counter, another hand planted right under your knee to keep your leg spread open for him. You’re moaning openly under him, strings of fuck yeah right there and shit, Geto, you feel so good filling in the early morning air that would’ve been innocent if there weren’t such loud sounds of skin slapping against skin mixing with the chirping birds.

You squeeze Geto’s ass as he plants himself deeper inside you, setting a pace that is both mind-numbing and exhilarating.

It’s hard to believe that just days ago, you’re in the exact same place sharing waffles with him, only you’re studying math and he’s wearing glasses; professional, formal, polite – the exact opposite of the sinful things he’s doing to you right now.

Geto’s grunts are almost choked in your ear as you come hard, walls convulsing and spasming around his thick length.

He immediately pulls out his hard cock to come all over your thighs instead, watching the way your hole clenches around nothing while his slippery dick is smeared and repeatedly slapping your inner thighs. You keep gasping as you ride out your orgasm, thighs burning from the uncomfortable stretch of having one leg propped by him and the other heel planted on the counters. Geto’s moans are deep, sinful, and inherently masculine the whole while he shoots his deep all over you, creating a mess both on the counter and on your skin.

It takes a while before you both regain your breath and composure, with Geto awkwardly pulling his pants up as he laughs along with you. “So…breakfast?”

“Yeah,” you giggled, “I’m famished.”

Safe to say, that morning was spent with not much enough breakfast, but definitely lots of kissing and even more fucking around. Everything Geto said the first time you met him had been proven true – he did have a thing or two to teach you.

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