#i still wouldn’t. I don’t wish that on anyone. even if it is a curt goodbye. then so be it. but I will not inflict that on anyone

[smileysuh]

NiceGuyJohnny : nct

🌙 staring. Johnny x afab!Reader

🔮 preview. “You know,” he sighs as his fingers pump into you, “I was a little worried that- since it’s been so long since I fucked you properly, maybe it would be harder to make you cum, but-” he applies more pressure to your gspot and you’re crying out, pussy clenching ridiculously tight around his digits, “you’re squirting just as easily as I remember.”

cw/ tw. 69ing, oral, unprotected sex, size kink, manhandling, dirty talk, fingering, squirting, multiple orgasms, dumbification, praise, slight cum play/kink, etc... I petnames. (hers) sweetheart, baby, etc... (his) daddy.

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 7.5k

🍭 aus. cam girl reader, poly idols, idols sharing a fuck buddy, dirty boy idols, etc...

☀️ mlist + an. camroom directory here - final chapter! when I started this series, I always knew John would be the endgame and I know some of my foreshadowings have tipped people off- thank you to everyone who's been here throughout this long endeavor- happy easter and happy John day!

“You keep checking the time.”

“Am I?” Johnny sighs, tearing his eyes from his phone to look at Mark.

“You know…” the Canadian averts his gaze, “no one would blame you if you want to skip the party tonight.”

“Skip our ‘tour ended and we’re back in Seoul’ party?” Johnny scoffs. “Why would I do that?” 

“Well, I mean… you haven’t seen y/n in a while-”

Johnny cuts his friend off, “She’s invited tonight.”

“I know but- you just keep checking your phone, so I sort of assumed-”

“Don’t do that.” Johnny hates how curt he’s being with Mark, but he can’t help himself. “Assume things, I mean.”

He hates how his deepest secrets are so painfully obvious to his best friend, hates how Mark can be much more observant than anyone gives him credit for. 

“Fine, I won’t,” Mark sighs. “But seriously- if you wanted to skip tonight… no one would blame you.”

Johnny only wishes this was true. As observant as Mark is, he hasn’t seemed to pick up on the fact that both Jaehyun and Haechan have a thing for you- something that goes beyond what anyone sees on cam. 

People will - in fact - blame Johnny if he skips tonight, especially if it means him going to your apartment, knocking on your door, and saying whats been on his mind for over two years now. 

As time ticks by and Johnny gets increasingly uncharacteristically anxious, so does his need to rip the bandaid off. It’s not like his thoughts can go unsaid any longer- even if he was to wait to the party to see you. If Mark can read the emotions on his face, Johnny has no doubt you’ll see right through him, and is a party really the best place to have the conversation he needs to have with you?

Johnny sighs and checks his phone again.

“John?”

He loves it when you answer your phone like this. His name sounds right coming from you- as right as anything Johnny has ever known.

“Hey you,” he can’t help the smile that appears on his face, and he looks down, twiddling with the sleeves of his sweater. “Still coming to the party tonight?”

“You know I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

He loves that he can hear your own grin- and he endevours to be the source of your smiles for as long as humanly possible.

“Do you need a ride?”

“I was gonna call a cab-”

“Don’t,” he tells you, “let me drive you.”

“Are you sure? Don’t you need to be getting ready for the party?”

“Nah, Doyoung and Taeyong are dealing with that- I just get in the way, like always.”

“Very naughty of you, John.”

There’s that smile again, and he can almost visualize it in his mind’s eye.

It’s been much too long since he’s seen you in person, and if he has to wait any longer, he might just combust.

“So you’ll let me pick you up?”

“Something tells me even if I said no, you’d show up anyways.”

“You’re right about that,” he grins to himself.

“So I guess I’ll see you at eight?” 

“Maybe before,” Johnny says under his breath.

Another laugh that sounds like music to his ears, then, “Just text me when you’re in front of my building.”

“You got it, baby.”

“Bye, John.”

“See you soon.”

At ten to eight there’s a knock on your door, and you pull yourself away from your vanity to go see who’s arrived at your apartment. There’s not text from John, so you’re prepared to see a neighbour or even your land lord-

Your breath catches as you open your door to reveal the windswept idol, his hands resting on either side of the frame. He’s so big- you’ve almost forgotten how big he is, how tall-

“John-” you watch his eyes dip to your lips, and the next moment he’s cupping your face, stepping into your apartment and pressing his mouth to yours. 

You grab at the front of his jacket, pulling him closer. With a quick motion of his foot, he’s closing the door behind himself, and one hand leaves your face to click the lock into place-

“Wait- John,” you say again, biting gently at his lip-

“Just let me kiss you-” he pleads, words breathy as his mouth ghosts over your own.

You want to let him just kiss you- but this is definitely not something you’d exprected on your agenda tonight- especially without warning, and the shock at suddenly seeing Johnny again causes you to be as firm as you’ve ever been with him. You press your hands flat to his abdomen, giving a small push- and your favorite idol pulls away from you without another word of protest.

There are a million questions on your mind, but the first one that comes out is; “How did you even get into the building?”

“Someone was leaving and when I approached they just held the door open-”

“They’re not supposed to do that-” you sigh, “the land lord posted a whole invoice about letting people in without keys- and hey! You’re not supposed to do that either! Walking into my apartment- you’re an idol, what if someone recognized you-”

“Are you that disappointed to see me?” Johnny is smiling down at you with all the ease in the world. 

You’re amusing him, and he’s at his most handsome when amused like this. 

“Why didn’t you just text me?”

“I don’t know…” for the first time, he looks thoughtful, “maybe I wanted to surprise you.”

“How long were you waiting?”

His gaze has shifted to your lips again, and there’s something of a dreamy glint in his eye when he sighs and says, “Longer than you can imagine-” 

“John-” you groan.

“I’m serious-” He catches your jaw between two fingers, and you find yourself looking up into eyes that have suddenly turned sincere. “I’ve got something to tell you.”

“You do?” Your voice comes out a squeak, and your heart is thundering in your ribcage like never before. 

“Uh huh.” His tongue swipes over his lower lip. “But aren’t you going to invite me in first?”

The energy shift gives you something like whiplash, and you blink up at - arguably - your most stable lover. “Invite you in?” You take a small breath. “Aren’t we going out?”  

“I think I need some water actually.” Johnny’s hand drops, your chin released, and the large man shifts past you to head to your kitchen.

“John-” you give your head a little shake, moving to follow him. “Are you okay? You’re acting a little…”

“Acting a little what?” He fills a glass with water, cocking an eye brow at you.

“Off?” you suggest, doing the best to make sense of his erratic behaviour. He takes a sip of his drink, and you sigh. “Look… if you’re here to do a cam show before the party-”

“I’m not.” Johnny puts his water down, studying your face. 

You’re not convinced, and he knows it. 

“Really-” he insists, “I’m not here for a cam show- fuck- even if you had suggested one…” he looks like he’s considering it but ends up shaking his head, “no, even then- no cam show.”

“No cam show,” you repeat his words, still not fully satisfied. 

“Why do you sound like you still don’t believe me?” He grins at you. 

“I just- I don’t think we’ve ever been in a situation where you don’t want to fuck me-”

“Who said I don’t want to fuck you?” 

Your brows furrow in confusion. “You did- you just said no cam show-”

“True- no cam show, that doesn’t mean I don’t want to tear your clothes off- why do you think I had to get water? Needed something to distract myself-” His eyes move up and down your form, and he takes another sip of his drink. 

“John-” you feel a rush of wet between your legs- it’s funny how easily this man can make a mess of your panties. 

“So what do you want to do, princess?” Johnny asks. “Do you still want to go to the party? I know I’d prefer having some time alone here with you first… I still have something I need to talk to you about but-”

“Can it wait?” 

He pauses for a moment, studying you. From the way he breaks out in a grin, you can tell he’s read you as easily as ever- read the horny warning signs- 

“It can wait,” he confirms. “No camshow, just us?”

“Please, just get over here-” you reach your hands out for him and all it takes is two strides for Johnny to press his lips to yours again. 

You melt into the kiss this time. You’re still not a hundred percent sure what’s going on with him- but enough of your questions have been answered. And you suppose you can only stand in the same room with Johnny Suh for so long before jumping his bones-

You’re shocked you’ve lasted this long.

It feels amazing to have his large hands on you again- and his lips are as familiar as your soft pillow, or your favourite blanket. It feels like home to be wrapped in his arms- to be the main focus of an idol adored by countless fans all over the world-

But more than that- it feels like nothing else because this is Johnny- and there’s no one else like him.

Your heart aches in your chest when Johnny simply reaches down and lifts you up, forcing your legs around his hips while he carries you off in the direction of your room. 

You can tell by the way he’s kissing you that he’s missed you more than he can say- and you’ve missed him just the same, wordlessly communicated through the way you kiss him back, tongue swiping against his bottom lip as a groan works its way out of your mouth.

 Before you know it, the two of you are falling onto your bed, and it’s another familiar feeling. 

How many times has he fucked you here? How many times has he made you cum-

It’s been much too long since you last saw Johnny, but your bodies are moving in sync as if he’d never even been gone.

Everything has always just been easy with Johnny- and it’s fun too. 

When mid lip lock his exploritive hands discover your dress has a zipper up the back and it won’t be easily tugged off, Johnny pulls away from you just long enough to flip you onto your stomach, and you find yourself giggling at the manhandling.

“Sorry baby, give me one second to get this dress off of you-” he says, breath hot against your exposed back as he tugs the zipper down. 

Johnny’s straddling your thighs, and it’s an easy enough position for you to tease him with. You push your ass back and up, rubbing it against his crotch while releasing a sigh. “I can’t believe I dressed up all pretty and we’re not even going to the party-” 

“We can still go to the party,” he assures you, warm fingers gliding against your spine to undo your bra clasp.

“No, daddy,” you smile, “we can’t.”

“No? And why’s that, baby?” His lips ghost over your shoulder. 

“Because we have an entire tour’s worth of time to make up for- and I’d like you to fuck me till I can’t walk.” 

You feel him smile against your skin and his mouth moves to your neck. “I think that can be arranged,” he says, teeth dragging by your ear lobe and making you twitch. He pulls away much too fast. “And actually- now that you mention it, how about you stand up and let me see your dress one last time before you take it off- you know, to appreciate it.” 

“Really?” you groan. “Can’t you just tear it off me?”

“Daddy wants to see his princess, now be a good girl for me and let me appreciate you.” 

How could you resist a request like this? 

When Johnny moves to sit on the bed, you’re free to stand up, and you turn to face him. 

He’s breathtaking- leaning against the pillows, his eyes warm and his smile affectionate. “It’s a pretty dress baby, I should have told you that when I got here but- well,” he shrugs, “I was distracted by your lips.”

“You and your sweet talking,” you smile, shaking your head. “Should I strip for you, daddy? The way you stripped for all your fans on tour?”

Johnny laughs, and the sound is music to your ears. “Jealous, baby?”

“Not any more than you watching my cam shows, I bet,” you say, meaning for it to be a dismissive comment- because you know Johnny doesn’t get jealous seeing you with others…

Right?

“You’re funny, a funny baby” he chuckles, but there’s less joy in this sound than the one previous. “Take that dress off, funny baby, daddy’s getting impatient.”

“Yes sir-” you tease, slipping your staps down so your dress and bra can fall to the floor. You step out of the fabric, toying with the waistband of your underwear. “What about these, daddy?”

“Take them off now or risk them getting torn, your choice.” Johnny’s working on the buttons of his own shirt, jacket already discarded by the door- 

You lose focus for a moment, too distracted by each strip of the beutiful idol’s newly exposed skin- 

“Tick tock, darling,” your soft dom reminds you, grinning at the way you’re standing there frozen. 

“Right- sorry,” you slip your panties off and the coolness of the room rushes over your wet, hot, pussy. 

God, you need to be filled- you need to be filled so bad it hurts.

You hop onto the bed, reaching for the waistband of Johnny’s pants. “I missed your cock so bad, daddy-”

“Yeah?”

“Missed it in my mouth, and in my pussy-” 

“Mmm-” Johnny groans when you squeeze him through his pants, tracing the outline of his hard cock. “If you missed my dick so much- and I’ve missed that pretty fucking pussy of yours- maybe the only way to make sure we both get what we want is to start with you sitting on my face while you take me in your mouth- or at least, as much of me as you can fit.” 

69-ing is not a position you generally do with Johnny- but you suppose it’s been a long time since you’ve fucked. Maybe he’s picked up some new tricks? Maybe this just shows that you’re both absolutely insatiable- neither of you had the patience to wait much longer and Johnny definitely knows it. 

“Have you really missed me that much?” you ask as Johnny lifts his hips to pull his pants down.

“More than you can imagine,” he admits, shuffling down the bed, “now be a good girl and come sit on Daddy’s face.” 

His hands help you get into position, and before you can even lower yourself down, he’s applying pressure to help you sit onto his mouth, his tongue pushing into your pussy-

Johnny groans loudly against your core, and you think it must be from discovering how wet you already are. Or maybe he’s missed the taste of you- either way, the sound makes you even more turned on, the hands on your hips urge you to grind down-

“Fuck, Johnny-” you moan, wrapping your hand around the base of his cock, ready to guide him to your lips-

A gentle smack on your ass is a reminder that Johnny expects the title of Daddy- at least, he does right now, and it brings a smile to your face. You like that he doesn’t stop eating your pussy- he has his priorities straight, and you think you should too, as you wrap your mouth around the pretty head of his cock-

Another groan from Johnny has your pussy throbbing, clit needing his attention- in a 69 position, you can’t just grind yourself against his nose, and it frustrates you as you take more and more of him into your mouth. 

When he’d suggested this- you’d thought it would be just a little foreplay- you’ve never cum in a 69 before- but when Johnny applies more pressure to your hips, forcing you down against his mouth- you realize you’re in very real danger of cumming sooner than you’d expected.

There’s something about the duality of being stuffed with his cock in your mouth, and his tongue in your pussy- 

You’re not quite sure where to focus, but you’re turned on enough that you’re drooling all over his dick, and your pussy is throbbing with wetness that Johnny eagerly laps up-

You moan around his cock and Johnny’s hips twitch, forcing more of him into your mouth. 

He’s the one who moans next, wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking-

Your toes curl as pleasure courses through you, and you begin to pump the base of Johnny’s cock, using your drool as lube. 

Part of you wants to make him cum from your mouth if he’s going to do the same to you, but another part of you knows that’s unrealistic- Johnny’s got a big cock, he cums big loads, and it always takes a big little while to get him there, but damn, you enjoy the ride. 

It’s becoming harder and harder for you to breathe while focusing on everything- and you take your mouth off Johnny, groaning loudly while you continue pumping his cock with your hand. “Fuck- Daddy- feels so good-”

He growls against your pussy, switching between lapping at you and sucking on your clit. 

“Just like that- please- fuck- daddy- I think I’m gonna cum-” You close your eyes, allowing yourself to get lost in the feeling of your stomach muscles tightening- “Yeah- I’m gonna cum from your tongue- don’t stop, please-” 

Not only does Johnny not stop, he eats you out with even more vigour, groaning against your pussy and sending you into a frenzy.

“Fuck- daddy-” you hardly have time to say much else before you’re cumming on his tongue, core muscles clenching as pleasure consumes you. 

The orgasm feels kind of like a firecracker, an eruption of jittery ecstasy that fizzles over your form, making your hair raise from your skin before heat is left in it’s wake. Sparkly waves of fire crackling energy erupt through your from with each suck and lick of Johnny’s tongue against your pussy, working you through your high like the diligent man he is.

“Fuck- please- need to be full-” even in your orgasmic haze, you have your priorities, and right now, the only thing on your mind is Johnny’s delicious cock being inside your pussy, the one hole that can truly take him the way he deserves- “Need your cock so bad-”

Johnny’s hands shift to your ass, and he squeezes you gently, giving one last harsh suck on your clit that has you crying out before he pushes you off his mouth. “If you need my dick so bad, you should sit on it next.” 

“What?” You’d been expecting him to fuck you- not the other way around. 

“Oh so you can ride Mingyu and Yunho but not me?” Johnny laughs, his breath teasing your wet pussy and making you twitch as you clamor off of him. 

“I-” you swallow thickly, adjusting so you can straddle Johnny, who sits up against the pillows, grinning while you stumble over your words. “I just-”

“You want Daddy to do all the work, huh?” he teases.

“Maybe-” you admit, feeling almost bashful as you reach between your bodies to grab his cock, lining it up with your pussy-

“Well, baby-” Johnny’s hands find your hips, and he steadies you as you begin to sink down on him, pussy swallowing him up inch by inch- “I guess you’re just going to have to wait.”

It’s as if a handful of your fuck buddies came to an agreement to make you wait for things, and you’re not happy about it. 

But honestly- as you take more and more of Johnny- you start to not care so much. It’s not like you’re going to be able to ride him for very long- you’re already gasping and you’ve hardly even moved yet.

This position hits deep- you suppose that’s one reason a few idols have liked having you on top recently. When you lean back, swiveling your hips, you can see the slight outline of his cock in your lower abdomen and it has you going feral-

“Fuck- look at you, baby,” Johnny groans, watching your every movement. “How’d you ever get so perfect?” 

“Shit, daddy, you’re so deep-” you whine, leaning forward again to grab at his shoulders, an anchor for when you begin to bounce-

“And you’re taking me so well-” the man under you breathes, hands settling on your hips to help you with your movements. “So well, baby- so perfect-” 

“Fuck, John-”

A gentle smack to your ass has you crying out and he smiles up at you. “Am I really John again?”

“Uh huh-” you nod, heart and pussy clenching tight, “missed you.”

Johnny sits up better against the pillows, and then he’s grabbing at you, cupping your face with one hand to draw your lips to his own. 

“I missed you too,” he says, kissing you deeply and making your mind go blank as you roll your hips.

It’s as easy as anything to get lost in John- but you suppose it’s always been this way.

There’s just something about the two of you that works, you can’t really explain it. 

Maybe it has to do with his brilliant non verbal communication - large hands guiding you to fuck him faster and harder - or maybe it’s just his perfect, gorgeous lips, the lips you could kiss for hours and not get bored- 

“Fuck, you feel so good, princess-” Johnny groans, digging his fingers into your hips. “Missed this.” 

“John?” you whimper when he shifts his hips, thrusting up to meet you.

“Yes, darling?” he asks, leaning in to press his lips against your throat while you bounce on his cock.

“My thighs-” 

His hands find the body part in question, and he massages the sore muscles. “Your thighs?” He grins against your neck.

“Please-” You know he’s just playing with you- it must be clear to him by now that you’re starting to get tired, and it’s harder to focus on his massive cock splitting you open when your thighs are burning from effort.

“You ready to be fucked properly now?” Johnny smiles up at you, as coy and confident as ever. 

“Yes, please-”

“Ready to be fucked the way only I can fuck you?” 

You’re suddenly reminded of what he’d said to you all those months ago when you first started your cam girl journey; “Fuck whoever you want,” he’d told you, “but no one is ever going to fuck you the way I can.”

“Yes, daddy” is the only answer that truly suffices as your body tingles with intense energy- Johnny has always been your rock, and he always will be. 

You love how easy it is for him to wrap an arm against the small of your back and flip you, pinning you to the bed and pressing his hips flush to your own. A moan is torn out of you as you grab at his shoulders, eager for his lips.

Each kiss is like magic, and he takes a test thrust that has your toes curling.

“Mmm-” you whimper against his mouth, and Johnny breaks the kiss to press his hot lips against your throat, sucking on your sweet spot and making another rush of wet flood to your core. “Johnny- feels so good-”

“You feel so good,” he retorts, pressing his hips against yours so you can feel him feeper, the head of his cock hitting the spot that makes you want to scream.

“Shit- right there,” you tell him, digging your nails into his strong shoulders, your eyes closing as you allow the feeling to engulf your whole being.

“Here?” He thrusts into you harder, hitting the spot again and making you cry out. “How could I forget this spot?” Johnny grins, pulling away from your throat to look down at your pleasure controrted face. “It’s going to make you cum, right? You’ll be a good girl for me and cum again?”

“Fuck, yes John- shit, I want you to cum too-”

“Not yet baby, not yet,” he assures you in a voice that’s much too controlled. “I’ve been thinking about you for months- I don’t want to cum until I’m sure you’re satisfied-”

“I’m satisfied-” you try to tell him, but Johnny simply laughs at you.

“Haven’t even made you squirt yet, baby- just give in to the feeling right now, and let me do the rest, yeah?”

“Fuck-” you’re clawing at his skin, his cock repeatedly teasing the spot deep in your core- “John-”

“Come on baby, I want you to cum for me,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your lips, his nose brushing by your own in the most domestic way- “I can feel you squeezing- you feel like heaven, princess- just let go, I know you want to, let me take care of you.” 

“I’m so close-” you can feel your stomach muscles twisting in tighter and tighter knots, and you’re teetering on the edge-

“Here,” Johnny licks two of his fingers before slipping his hand between your bodies, and you cry out when he makes contact with your clit. “Those are the sounds I like-”

“Fuck, daddy-” you’re gasping now, body alight with electric energy-

The chord in your abdomen snaps, your orgasm slamming into you full force, and Johnny presses his lips to your own, muffling the noises of pleasure that threaten to fill the room and bug your neigbours- 

“That’s it, baby, that’s my good girl-” Johnny coos, fucking you through your high, his fingers unrelenting on your clit even as you wiggle bellow him, helplessly pinned by his weight.

“Johnny-” you whimper his name loudly than you’d intended, and he grins down at you.

“There you go, princess, let your whole apartment building know who’s fucking you-”

At this point, you can hardly bring yourself to care about noise complaints, and you allow your sounds of pleasure to fill the room while Johnny takes care of you, working you through your high as expertly as ever.

As your sounds slowly come to an end, Johnny’s thrusts slow down, and you cling to him, wrapping your legs tighter around his waist. “John-”

“Can I flip you onto your stomach baby?” he asks, lips ghosting over your cheekbone. “I’ve been missing your ass like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Really?” Your stomach flutters with pleasure from the praise.

“Uh huh,” Johnny nods, removing his fingers from your clit. “No doggy, just going to have you laying flat-”

“Fuck-” you groan. Images of all the times he’s done the ‘on your stomach legs closed position’ flash through your mind’s eye, and your pussy twitches at the memories- 

“Yeah- it’s nice and deep, that’s what you want, right?” Johnny asks. “Want Daddy nice and deep when he cums and fills you up-”

You’re nearly crying already- you want it so badly. “Yes, daddy-” 

“Come on angel, let’s flip you over-” He’s so caring, so calm and precise with you. You’ve missed his large hands, missed the way they so easily move you from one position to the next-

The next moment he’s pulled out of you and you’re on your stomach, resting your face against the pillows as Johnny shifts on the bed behind you. 

You press your thighs together, arching your back and lifting your hips ever so slightly to expose your pussy to him-

“Fuck, you have no idea how pretty you look-” he groans, large hands grabbing at your ass to pull your cheeks apart, revealing more of you to his eager eyes. “How could I have you in this perfect position without-” two fingers slip into your wet heat and you cry out from the unexpected intrusion, “making you squirt a little first?”

His digits begin to move against your wet walls, curling down to find your gspot- a squelching noise makes your skin tingle, and you realize how wet you really are-

But he intends to have you wetter, and you know Johnny’s preference for ‘slip and slide pussy’- it’s one of the way’s he makes sure you’re having a good time even when preparing to take his massive cock deep inside of you-

“You know,” he sighs as his fingers pump into you, “I was a little worried that- since it’s been so long since I fucked you properly, maybe it would be harder to make you cum, but-” he applies more pressure to your gspot and you’re crying out, pussy clenching ridiculously tight around his digits, “you’re squirting just as easily as I remember.” 

“Fuck, daddy!” you cry out at the unrelenting speed and force of his fingers, and you can feel a rush of new wetness between your thighs with each pump-

Your bed is going to be ruined after this, and you should have remembered to put a towel down - this is Johnny after all - but it’s another worry that soon slips from your mind as you give yourself in to the pleasure he’s providing.

“It’s cute that you can hardly speak,” Johnny says, and you can hear him smiling. “I think you’re just about ready for me.”

The pleasure he gives feels amazing, but there’s only so much you body can take, and while his fingers are large- you’re already starting to miss his cock-

“Please-” you whimper, feeling a hot, wet, tear slip down your cheek-

“Hmm?”

“I said, please!” you repeat, pushing your hips back and wiggling your bum at him even as his digits continue in your core- 

“That’s my girl.” He removes his hand from between your legs and you let out a sound of relief, only to brace yourself for the intrusion that will come next. “Just relax,” he tells you, voice soft as he presses his palm to your lower back, anchoring himself while he guides his cock to your wet hole.

“Johnny-” you whine his name as he pushes into you. Despite having taken him already, your core is still recovering from being made to squirt, so now, his cock feels even bigger, and you’re not sure what to make of it. 

“Fuck, you’re so tight, baby,” he leans over your back, pressing soft kisses to your shoulder blades, “I told you to relax.” 

You let out a groan as he pushes in deeper, shaking your head, “Can’t- you’re too big-” 

“Too big?” Johnny laughs. “You know, I thought with the recent cam shows that you’d been taken care of, but if you’re already clawing at me over this- maybe I misjudged the situation.”

He’s using big words, and you can hardly think coherently right now. The most you can do is moan, pussy twitching around his long cock as he sheiths himself into you, hips now flush with your ass.

“You can take it, right, baby?” he asks, lips returning to your shoulder and then the nape of your neck-

“Yeah- please-” one thrust has you stuttering, grabbing at the pillows in an effort to anchor yourself-

You’ve missed this position- missed it more than you’d ever realized.

You’re not sure if it’s the angle, or if it’s simply because it’s Johnny fucking you like this, but either way, it feels delicious. 

You can feel the beautiful vein that runs along the underside of his massive cock with each thrust, and it has you going feral.

A large portion of his weight is pressed to your lower back, keeping you pinned to the bed- it’s almost a little suffocating, but that only adds to your pleasure.

“Shit, I could do this forever-” Johnny groans behind you. “Could fuck this pussy till I die-” 

“John-” 

“You’d let me right?” Hot lips graze by the junction between your neck and shoulder, and a tingle of pleasure skitters from the spot he’d kissed. “You’ll let me keep fucking you- let me keep making you cum, over and over-”

“God, yes-” you push your ass back to meet his thrusts, “Please-” 

“Please what? Use your words, pretty girl, if you have any left.” 

“Need your cum-” you whimper, “need you to cum with me-” 

“Yeah? Is my good little cock whore already close?”

You nod desperately against the pillows.

“Is this position that good for you?” he taunts, fucking into you harder. 

“Yes, shit- please, John, I can feel you everywhere-” 

“Everywhere?” 

“So deep-” you confirm, biting into your bottom lip to muffle some of the moans that threaten to be torn out of you with each rough motion of Johnny’s hips smacking against your ass- “Please, John-”

“I like it when you say my name like that-” he groans, fingers digging into your hips, breath hot against your shoulders.

“John-” you moan louder, “John, John, John!” 

“I’m almost there- almost there, sweetheart-” 

You’ve missed the sounds he makes when he’s close, and your pussy flutters around his cock, so near to the edge that you think you might die if he doesn’t let you cum-

“Please, John,” you beg, “please cum with me- fill me up till I’m your stupid little cock drunk baby-”

“You’re already my stupid little cock drunk baby, angel,” Johnny chuckles, but the laughter turns into another sound of pleasure. “Fuck- okay, let go- let go for me angel, I wanna feel you-” 

That’s all you need to let yourself release the tension in your core, and your pussy clamps down on his cock while you squeal into the pillow, muffling the loud sound that matches the pleasure coursing through you. 

Johnny lets out an equally noisy groan, and his rhythm falters slightly-

“Fuck-”

You can feel him coating your inner core with his cum, can feel yourself becoming incredibly full as he struggles to keep rutting into your tight pussy, your walls milking him for all he’s worth-

You gasp at the feeling of being completely satisfied, burying your face in the pillow as Johnny rides you through your highs. 

“You feel so good-” he groans, rhythm slowing as the both of you begin to come down from the pleasure. 

“No, you.”

Johnny laughs at your fucked out, easy submissive retort, and a moment later his hips are stilling all together, his cock burried deep inside of you as he presses his chest down against your back.

He’s hot, both of you are, but there’s comfort in the pressure of his large body covering your own- he’s something like a safety blanket, and you could truly doze off at any second-

“Hey, don’t go falling asleep on me, baby.” His lips brush by your throat and a shiver of stimulation runs through you, making you grin.

“I’m tired,” you insist.

 He continues pressing soft kisses to your skin. “Don’t you want to hear what I was going to tell you when I got here?”

“Oh right-”

“Can you flip over for me though? I want to see your face.” 

“Johnny-”

“Please?” He nuzzles your ear with his nose, and it tickles you, forcing you to laugh and shrink away.

“Fine- but as soon as you pull out of me, and I flip over, your cum is going to start dripping out of me-” 

“Should we do this in the shower then?” Johnny chuckles.

It is something of a post sex ritual for you. You’ve found that showering with a sexual partner can be the perfect aftercare, and it doubles as clean up.

“A shower sounds good,” you agree.

With one last kiss to the nape of your neck, Johnny pulls out of you, and you stifle a whimper at the loss. 

The next moment, you feel his cum begin to dribble out of you, and you groan at the way Johnny always fills you up to the brim. Without even thinking twice, you slip your hand between your legs, plugging your pussy with two fingers.

You roll onto  your back, and Johnny is quick to scoop you up in his arms. He’s chuckling, and it makes your skin heat with embarrassment. “Hey,” you reprimand him, “don’t laugh at me!” 

“I’m not laughing at you,” he promises.

“Yes you are!”

“I’m not,” he says again, still grinning. “I’m just thinking- that I could get used to this.”

He sets you down in your shower and you look up at him with a cocked brow. “Wow Suh, I didn’t realize how much you missed me while on tour-”

“Hey-” now it’s his turn to reprimand you, but most scolding that comes from Johnny includes a note of playfulness. “I’m being serious.”

“Really?” 

Instead of answering, you watch him quickly reach past you, turning on the shower. The spray hits by your feet, and you shiver from the cold temperature, skittering further away from it. 

“Johnny-” you groan, seeing right through his feeble attempt to derail the conversation.

“What?” He grins at you. 

“You’re being weird today- something’s off with you and I know it. Wish you’d just say what you want to say.” If he keeps tiptoeing around the thing that’s on his mind, you might just put your dress back on and go to the party where his members will actually talk to you. 

“Right-” Johnny tests the water, stepping into the shower to join you. His hands find your hips and he pulls you close. “I guess- I’m just nervous.”

“You? Nervous? Okay mister stripper-” 

He grabs  your chin, forcing you to look up at him. “Sometimes you make it hard to be serious with you, do you know that?”

“Me? How?!” You insist, feeling personally attacked.

“Don’t call me Mister Stripper when less than ten minutes ago you were calling me Daddy, okay?” 

“Okay, daddy.” 

His gaze shifts down to your lips, and he releases your chin. “Now give me a kiss for goodluck.” 

“Okay, daddy,” you say again, grinning as you lean up to press your mouth to his. 

His arms wrap around your body, pulling you to join him under the spray of warm water. 

It feels good to be doing this with him, but the heated kiss only lasts a few moments before he’s pulling away from you. He shifts so his back is blocking the water from you again, and you cling tighter to his warm body, pouting up at him-

“Maybe the shower isn’t the best place for what I’m about to say if you’re pouting at me over water hogging.” 

“Oh my god,” you groan, “just tell me what the issue is or I might start to think you’re in love with me or something.” 

His eyes search your own, and when he doesn’t immediately open his mouth to contradict you, something tells you that you’ve hit the nail on the head. 

“Wait, Johnny-” 

You can’t finish your sentence because a second later his hands cup your face and his lips press to yours. You can taste something like desperation on his tongue- 

“John-” you whisper again.

“Just let me kiss you,” he insists, and you almost want to laugh. This is what he’d said when he came into your apartment too-

Is he really this afraid of your reaction? 

You’ve never known Johnny as the kind of guy to lack confidence- and it’s almost cute that he’s worried about this.

“John-” You press your hands to his stomach, and he moves away like he always does the moment you give any push back. 

His eyes hold the same desperation that his kiss had, and they’re sad, as sad as you’ve ever seen them-

“God,” you can’t help but laugh a little, “stop looking so worried!” you take a breath and feel your expression soften, “I love you too, you big dummy-” 

“You do?” His lips part in shock.

“Of course- I mean- how could I not?!” 

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?”

“Why didn’t you ever tell me?!” you fire back. 

“Well- I mean-” he rubs the back of his neck, “when you said you were picking up cam girling again after a hiatus-”

“I needed to be fucked and you were on tour! For ages! Besides, why did I get into cam girling in the first place, you big buffoon?” Part of you wants to laugh, and part of you wants to cry- “How long- how long have you-”

“A while,” he admits, swallowing thickly. “Sometimes I think about what would have happened if I’d never suggested the cam stuff- if I’d just manned up and offered to be your sugar daddy or something-”

“John-” you groan, hiding your face in your hands at all this new information. You’re in shock- and after a breath, you look up at him again. “How does a guy that loves a girl suggest for her to camgirl and fuck all his friends?”

“Well you see…” he licks his lips, “I’m not the jealous type?”

“You’re not the jealous type, oh my god-” 

“I mean, to be fair-” Johnny reaches for your hand, “you have so many idols wrapped around your finger that- maybe I thought it would be presumptuous to think I might stand a chance-”

“Johnny, that’s where you have it all wrong,” you say firmly, looking up at him with a stubborn set to your mouth, “no one ever stood a chance to you.”

“Really?”

“Not one person,” you confirm.

“I mean, you and Jinyoung were pretty close-”

“But he could see we were closer- he must have seen it- and he’s not the only one, John. Jaehyun’s asked me about us before, and Seungcheol seemed to know something about us last week-” you shake your head, still in disbelief. “I always thought maybe this was one sided-”

“Because of the whole thing about me suggesting you become a cam girl?”

“Yes!” 

“Well- I’m sorry.” When you look at him you can see that he’s being genuine. “I’m sorry that I gave you mixed signals.” 

“And that now I’ve fucked a few of your friends and things are way more complicated-” you add.

“They don’t have to be that complicated,” Johnny insists.

You narrow your eyes at him. “Are you sure about that?”

“Okay, John Cena-” your lover jokes. “I guess maybe things are a little messy-”

“A little?”

Johnny just looks at you for a moment, and then he smiles. “I love you.”

“And I love you, but-”

He kisses you before you can speak more, and for the third time today, you find yourself wanting to melt into the kiss even while your mind rages with unanswered questions. 

However, unlike the last two times, this time, you allow yourself to give up control. You give in to his tongue as it swipes across your lower lip, and when his hands slip down to your ass, you let him lift you up, legs wrapping around his waist-

“I love you,” Johnny says against your lips, harder this time. 

“I love you too-”

“Do we really have to talk about all this-” he asks, showing you that he’s aware he’d cut you off with a kiss, “or can I just fuck you now?” 

You laugh, shaking your head a little. “You can ‘just fuck me now’- but you better keep telling me you love me-”

“I was planning on it.”

“Good!” 

“Good,” he echos, mouth moving to your neck while he adjusts his hand to slip it between your bodies, grasping his cock to line it up with your entrance-

“Fuck, Suh, I love you so much that some days it’s made me want to scream-”

“Well, you can scream now if you want,” he smiles against your throat, “in fact-” he begins to push into you, “I’d really like to hear you scream for me tonight.”

“You’re-” you whimper as he fills your core in the most perfect way, “you’re insatiable-”

“I’ve got time to make up for,” he says simply.

There’s no way to fully describe the surge of emotion that runs through your body, it’s something like shock, awe, wonder, elatedness-

You can’t believe you’re here- can’t believe that the forbidden feeling you’ve been trying to ignore for over a year has been reciprocated- 

“Johnny?”

“Yes, my love?”

You shiver at the new petname, heart warming in your chest. “I just wanted to say I love you.”

“I love you too, my perfect little cam baby, I love you too.” 

☀️ mlist + an. thank you for reading! This series has meant so much to me- a number of people wanted to give Jaehyun an ending, as he was very angsty for cam baby, so I've given an optional bonus below that ties up Jae's storyline and gives a little more cam baby closure :)

🍭 support me by. sending a tip here or here - or become a patron to access monthly bonus content and extensions for fics like this one :) find the Patreon teaser below! 

🔮 preview. “It would be a one-time thing,” Johnny says, with a dismissive wave of his hand, “but- I know you were missing her while we were on tour too, and you guys have always been long-term friends-” By ‘long term friends’ Jaehyun knows Johnny means ‘fuck buddies,’ and he reaches down to pinch his own arm, making sure he’s not dreaming.

cw/ tw. threesome, dry humping, spitroasting, oral, protected sex, quickie, praise, dumbification, overstim, etc...

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 4k I teaser wc. 200

🌙 staring. Jaehyun & Johnny x afab!Reader  

It’s been over a month since you and Johnny made your relationship official, and Jaehyun still can’t get used to seeing you two be so overtly loving with each other. Sure, he’d always had suspicions that you and Johnny’s affections ran deeper than you’d let on, but suspecting it and seeing it are different things.

He hadn’t realized seeing it would hurt this much. Hadn’t realized how deep his own feelings for you had grown- how used to you he’d become. 

And he’s not the only one. Haechan had thrown a royal fit when you’d skipped their ‘back from tour’ party, and Jaehyun is glad neither you nor Johnny had been around to see it.

“Maybe she’ll still want to fuck though-” Haechan had insisted, 4 bottles deep into his Soju, “Johnny’s not a jealous guy-”

At the time, Jaehyun had scoffed, rolling his eyes as Mark rubbed his best friend’s back and tried to be sympathetic, but now, as Jaehyun watches you and Johnny putter around the dorm, he starts to have the same hopes that Hyuck had. 

☀️to read the full 4k bonus, subscribe to my Patreon - then - click here

👹 or check out what else is on my patreon here

🔮if nothing strikes your fancy, check out my m.list

© smileysuh — all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any fic, reaction, or piece of original writing posted on this blog is not allowed. Translations not allowed

general taglist:

@gotshinct - @subhyuck - @fraechan - @learnthisfeeling

@runahways - @d-abin - @milkteade - @woogyuhae 

@anothershorthuman - @nihxxy - @vantxx95 - @bangshii

@poutypoutybin - @notbeforelong - @creepybakeoven

@ninetechculture - @yungiland - @suhsfam - @binchangf

@chogiwapadada - @librarian-stacks - @meowniee

@learnthisfeeling - @gigilame - @cumtrov3rsy

@mocha000 - @darthlunaa​ - @just-here-to-read-01​ - @shiningnono

@lovelyhan

nct taglist

@milkyway-vxm - @nctsawrus - @shiningdery - @freezerandfame

@fairieblog - @fairybr3ad - @peachyjaemin - @chemaistry

@sehunniepot

interact with those who've cum before

› [nct] NiceGuyJohnny - online

› [got7] PubGMarkT - online

› [got7] beommie - online

› [wayv]  Lucas99 & Hendery99 - online

› [got7] TheJinyoung - online

› [bts] TaeTae - online

› [nct] ValentineJae97 - online

› [nct] HeyChannie - online

› [multi] TheJinyoung & NiceGuyJohnny - online

› hiatus…

› [nct] Private Room - online

› [svt] GyuGyu97 & Hannie - online

› [atz] Yunhoe - online

› [svt] CherryCheolie - online

› [nct] NiceGuyJohnny - now in server

#johnny suh #johnny suh smut #nct #nct smut #nct 127 #nct 127 smut #cam baby #johnny nct #nct johnny #johnny nct smut #nct johnny smut #nct u #nct u smut

[weemssapphic]

in my head (series)

Chapter Four: The Not-Date Date

Larissa Weems x f!reader

previous chapter | next chapter | series page

words: ~4.5k, ao3 link

chapter-specific warnings: indirect mentions of anxiety and insecurities

chapter summary: The day starts with a little hiccup, however Larissa and our dear reader are determined to move forward with their little date - that totally isn't a date, thank you very much.

“Larissa?” You tried to sound confident but your voice shook as your eyes roved over her form.

The young woman stood slowly, turning to face you. A blink of an eye later it was your Larissa standing before you again, face white as a sheet. 

You blinked. 

“How did you…” you could feel your heartbeat in each of your limbs as a lightbulb went off in your head. “You’re a shapeshifter.” 

Larissa’s cheeks turned pink and she crossed her arms defensively across her chest. 

“I am.” She held her chin high, her face stony, though you could see the trepidation in her eyes.

You took a slow, careful step towards her, as if trying not to spook her. “Was that… The woman… Was that you? I mean, you a couple years back you?”

“It was.” Her replies were curt, her tone guarded. You knew you weren’t supposed to see what Larissa had done - that her shifting was something private for her, and that you had walked in on some sort of intimate moment. You could practically see her walls coming up in real time, walls that you’d thought - you’d hoped - you’d torn down long ago, when you’d started getting closer.

“Larissa,” you pleaded, taking another step towards her. She didn’t move, though from the way her fingers twitched and her right foot shuffled ever so slightly, you could tell she wanted nothing more than to run. “Talk to me. I’m sorry that I walked in unannounced, I just thought… I just thought you were getting ready. I know I wasn’t meant to see that but please, don’t shut me out.”

The apprehension shining through the cracks in her carefully guarded mask overwhelmed you, and you wished nothing more in that moment than to get in her head, to see what she was thinking, what sort of internal war was going on beneath the surface. But you knew you couldn’t - you wouldn’t risk your closest friendship over a moment of indiscretion, you couldn’t break her trust like that. You seemed to be on thin ice already as it was.

Finally, Larissa closed her eyes, letting out a deep breath and dropping her arms to her sides before sinking down onto the stool in front of her vanity.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, fighting the lump in her throat. “I would appreciate it if you would keep the knowledge of my shapeshifting to yourself. There is a reason I don’t tell people.”

You nodded furiously, closing the remainder of the gap between the two of you and kneeling in front of her. “I promise I won’t tell a soul. I just don’t understand why you keep it a secret?”

Larissa laughed bitterly. “I would hardly want the entire school, let alone the entire population of Jericho, thinking I’m trying to actively deceive them. Shapeshifters are not often welcomed, darling. At worst, people see us as manipulative and deceitful - after all, how can you be sure this is even the real me? At best, people seem to think they can bend us to their will. I would rather not have to deal with the implications.”

“I understand.” Of course you did. Manipulative and deceitful were words often used to describe you, able to see into people’s minds and glean the most private of information, able to use this information against others on a whim. It was nothing you hadn’t heard before, and it made sense that Larissa, in the position she was in, would choose not to divulge this information with anyone.

Still, though, it stung a bit that she hadn’t even felt safe enough to tell you, had even become defensive when you’d found out. 

“You could’ve told me, you know. I guess I get why you didn’t. But I would’ve understood, you know? I’ve spent my whole life fighting against people’s prejudices against people like me - people who supposedly have the ability to manipulate others for fun. I would never think to judge you.” Your voice was gentle, a bit sad, and Larissa’s gaze softened slightly as she looked down at you.

“I…” Larissa seemed to be struggling to find the right words. “I didn’t consider that. I simply didn’t want to lose your trust over something so trivial.”

You couldn’t stop your heart from swelling at the thought of Larissa being afraid to lose you. “It’s not trivial, it’s a huge part of who you are. You could never lose my trust over something like that. Please know that.” Your hand landed on her thigh and you began to rub calming circles over the fabric of her dress.

Larissa swallowed visibly, nodding and choking out a quiet “thank you”.

“Can I ask you something?” Larissa tensed, but nodded again, and you bit your lip, afraid of her reaction. “Why did you shift, just now I mean?”

Larissa’s eyes darted between yours. If you would’ve decided to read her mind, you would’ve seen her inner struggle between lying to you and feeling guilty about it, or telling you the truth and feeling a deep, burning shame for her own perceived shortcomings. What she settled for was a half-truth.

“I’ve been feeling a bit… old lately. Older. As if my career is finally catching up to me. This semester has been… trying, and I feel as though you can tell.” Good enough. You didn’t need to know it was your perception of her, your own validation she had been craving most when she’d shifted. 

“Do you want to know what I think, Larissa?” Your heart was cracking at her confession, but you tried not to let it show. She avoided your gaze, but cocked her head nonetheless. “I think,” you took her chin between your fingers, forcing her to look at you. “That you are the most beautiful woman I have ever had the pleasure of knowing. The lines on your face don’t detract from that beauty. In fact, they make you even more stunning.”

It was true - you loved the little crinkles next to her eyes when she smiled, the laugh lines that showed how often she had something to smile about. You adored the crease between her brow when she was deep in thought, the lines on her forehead when she would raise an eyebrow at you.

Larissa’s cheeks were pink and a small smile was slowly taking shape on her face. She let out a shaky sigh. “Thank you. I hope I haven’t made us late…”

You took her smile as a minor victory and grinned back, gently squeezing her thigh. “Not at all - if you still want to go? We could always-”

Larissa cut you off. “Yes, I still want to go. I’ve been looking forward to it. I just need a moment to collect myself.”

“Yeah, sure. I’ll wait in your office.” You stood, leaving Larissa alone at her vanity and settling on the edge of her office desk to wait for her.

She stepped out into the office a few minutes later, locking the door to her quarters behind her. She looked regal as usual, now wearing a matching coat over her dress and sporting black heels. The smile on her face gave nothing of your prior conversation away.

You led her to your car and soon you were on the road.

“Do I finally get to know where we’re going?” Larissa seemed to finally be relaxing. You, however, were fighting the unexplained butterflies that were fluttering about in your tummy at the reality of the situation - Larissa Weems, in your car, for the very first time. How silly, to be so affected by something so mundane.

“We’re going to Burlington,” you quipped, grinning widely as you heard Larissa huff next to you.

“That much is obvious, darling. What will we be doing there?” You didn’t have to look at her to know that her eyebrows were raised, that her lips were turned down into a disapproving frown as a result of your obstinance.

“We’re going to a spa to get massages.” You glanced to your right to gauge her reaction. She looked surprised for a moment, before her face broke out into a pleased smile.

“You certainly know how to woo a woman,” Larissa teased, and you felt your heart skip a beat. She’s just being cheeky, you reminded yourself. She doesn’t mean it like that. Your cheeks began to heat up and you forced out a chuckle. 

“I guess.” You tightened your grip on the steering wheel, forcing your eyes to stay on the road ahead of you rather than drifting over to the woman occupying the passenger seat. “The ladies are just lining up for me, huh?”

Larissa remained silent and you couldn’t help yourself - stealing a glance in her direction, you could see she was turned away from you, gazing out the window with a frown on her face.

Great, now you’ve done it. You have to stop pushing her.

Your mind began to race, searching for another subject, anything to distract Larissa from your idiocy. You cleared your throat. “Can I ask you something about the shifting? You don’t have to answer of course…”

“Hmm?” Larissa hummed, as if pulled out of a trance. “Oh. Yes, ask away.”

“Is this, um… Is this your ‘natural’ form?”

There was a beat of silence in which you wondered whether you had, again, pushed too far, but just as you were about to backtrack, Larissa spoke.

“Yes, it is.” There was another brief silence, but then Larissa chuckled lightly. “My days of experimenting with my appearance are long gone.”

“Can you change anything about yourself?” You were curious, you’d never known a shapeshifter personally, as it was a more rare and easily hidden ability, and you’d never had a reason to do much personal research on the subject.

“I can change my physical appearance, yes, though I am limited to human forms. It’s easier if I have a clear picture in my mind, if it’s someone I’ve seen before, though I can also change certain features and body parts at will.”

“Wow… I’m ashamed to say I don’t know much about shapeshifting… You might be the first shapeshifter I’ve met.”

“It’s a rather rare ability, I’m afraid.”

There was so much more you wanted to ask, but the drive to Burlington was quite short and you found yourself pulling into the parking lot of the spa. Your questions would have to wait.

Larissa trailed behind you, allowing you to lead the way to the reception counter. The spa was just as nice in person as it had been in the pictures on Google. Marble floors, plenty of lush green plants, and a small fountain off to the side of the reception area gave the place a serene atmosphere.

“What can I do for you?” The receptionist smiled brightly. 

“Y/N Y/L/N, I have an appointment at 2:30?”

The receptionist, whose name tag read ‘Maria’, turned to her computer screen, scrolling idly until she found what she was looking for. “Ah yes, the couples massage.” You could feel Larissa’s eyes boring into the back of your head, and you tried to ignore it as you nodded your confirmation to Maria.

“Perfect. If you two could just fill out these forms, our waiting room is over to your right. Once those are filled out we can lead you back to your private room.” Maria slid two clipboards across the counter. You took them, thanking her, and headed towards the waiting room she’d mentioned; a large, open space with plush couches.

“A couples massage?” Larissa raised an eyebrow at you as you sat down, handing her one of the clipboards.

“They’re not just for couples,” you argued, not quite able to meet her eye. “Plus what fun is it if we don’t even get to spend time together.”

Larissa appraised you for just a second longer before letting out a low hum and dropping her eyes to her clipboard, filling out the intake form. Once both forms were filled out, you dropped them off with Maria. Two massage therapists showed up moments later, ushering you and Larissa down several hallways into a private room with two massage tables at the center. The room smelled faintly of a mixture of essential oils and there was soft, ambient music playing. You could already feel some tension leaving your body.

“So as you booked the full body massage, you can undress and put on the disposable underwear you’ll find on the massage tables,” one of the massage therapists stated. “Just go ahead and get comfortable and we’ll be back in a few minutes. If you’d like, you can pick out an essential oil blend to use for the massage.” 

The two women left the room and you and Larissa were left facing each other. 

“So…” Larissa trailed off, fingers fiddling with the sleeves of her coat. 

“Nothing we haven’t seen before,” you joked, thinking this might not have been the best idea you’d ever had as you shrugged off your jacket. Clearly, you had not considered all of the ramifications of booking a full-body couples massage with the woman you were trying desperately not to have a crush on. Larissa chuckled nervously as she slipped out of her own coat.

Before you could lose your nerve, you undressed, finding the disposable underwear the massage therapist had mentioned and slipping them on. Larissa followed suit and you averted your eyes, taking a particular interest in studying the minimalist decor of the room to avoid gawking at her.

Of course you’d seen her naked plenty of times, hell you’d had your face buried in her cunt multiple times a week for the past month or so, but something about seeing her like this, in such an innocent situation, brought a strange flush to your cheeks. It felt more intimate than anything you’d ever done, and it sure as hell didn’t feel the same as when you’d gotten a similar massage with your friend from back home.

Larissa had turned her back to you as she pored over the little card listing the various essential oils and their properties. You padded over to her, peering around her shoulder to take a look at the card and trying to ignore the way your bare skin tingled where it brushed against hers.

Once you’d made your choices, the two of you settled onto the massage tables and you wiggled your hips to get comfortable.

“I hope I didn’t overstep - booking this, I mean.” You couldn’t help but voice your concerns to the blonde, who looked over at you, head resting on her folded arms.

“What makes you think you overstepped?” Her face was unreadable, her gaze piercing as she searched your face.

“Uh… I don’t. I think. I just don’t want you to be uncomfortable or anything.” You bit the inside of your cheek as you waited for Larissa to say something, anything. Her gaze softened. 

“You could never make me uncomfortable, darling,” she murmured, her lips curling up into a small smile. “In fact, I appreciate you doing this for me.”

You returned her smile, opening your mouth to say something just as the door to the room opened and your massage therapists returned, asking about your preferences for essential oils. Larissa opted for a ylang ylang blend, while you opted for sandalwood.

You could feel yourself relaxing as warm hands began to rub the oil into the tense muscles around your shoulders. You hadn’t realized how badly you’d needed it, but after a stressful beginning to the semester, perhaps a massage wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

A soft moan from your left caused your entire body to tense up again, heat filling your belly. You could feel yourself growing hot as an ache began to build in your core, and you were finding it hard not to rut your hips against the massage table. Nevermind. Terrible idea.

You turned your head to look at Larissa. You had never seen the principal look so relaxed before. Her eyes were shut, her lips parted slightly to allow light, barely audible sighs to escape her. As one particular, very breathy sigh fell from her lips, you couldn’t help but buck your hips into the table a bit.

“Someone’s a little tense,” your massage therapist commented, working deeper into the muscles at the base of your spine. You squeaked out in surprise and Larissa’s eyes fluttered open, meeting your gaze as you flushed a deep red. She smirked before shutting her eyes again, allowing a groan to pass her lips as her own massage therapist dug into a knot near her shoulder.

This woman was going to be the death of you. Focus, you thought. You can do this. Surely the whole thing must be over soon, for how long you’ve already been laying here. With Larissa’s eyes closed, you allowed your own eyes to drink her in, free of inhibitions. 

Your gaze traveled along her elongated neck, down the curve of her spine, to the dip just above her ass which was, tragically, covered by a towel. You mapped out the freckles dotting her shoulders, allowed yourself to get lost in the sensual way that her eyelids fluttered as she reacted to the massage.

Another gentle moan had your eyes snapping to Larissa’s lips, those soft, plump lips… Heat pooled between your legs and you could feel yourself growing wet. Get yourself together, before you ruin the massage table. You were almost certain she knew what she was doing to you, and you would make her regret it later.

You had never been more grateful for anything than when the massage came to an end and you were allowed to dress again - more specifically, when Larissa was allowed to dress again.

As you stood in front of the reception counter, swiping your card to pay for the massages, Larissa allowed her chin to rest idly on your head, her hand coming to rest on your waist.

Maria smiled at the two of you. “I hope you enjoyed our services today. I must say, it’s refreshing to see a same-sex couple here, we don’t get too many for our couples massages.”

“Oh we’re not-” you began, but Larissa cut you off.

“Thank you,” she replied, her grip on your waist tightening. 

~~~

Your brain was short-circuiting all the way back to your car, and it was a wonder you managed to fish your keys out of your purse without dropping them at the rate that your hands were shaking.

“Larissa?” You breathed out as the two of you had settled into your seats.

“Yes?” She leaned back in her seat, a serene expression on her face.

“Nevermind.” You shook your head, trying to gain enough mental clarity to turn on the engine and begin your drive back to Nevermore.

“Someone’s a little tense,” Larissa quoted, and you could hear the smirk in her voice without looking at her.

“Don’t be an ass,” you retorted, trying to hide the way your cheeks burned by putting the car in reverse and making a show of checking your mirrors.

“Relax,” Larissa giggled, placing a hand on your thigh. It was meant as a comforting gesture, but it only made you feel more nervous. “Thank you for taking me here, Y/N. I really enjoyed myself.”

“Me too,” you murmured, a smile slowly spreading across your face. “I’m almost sad it’s over,” you joked.

Except you weren’t joking, not really - you wanted nothing more than to spend the rest of the weekend with the blonde, but you were worried you’d overdo it, that she’d tire of your presence. 

Larissa broke the silence that had engulfed the both of you. “Are you hungry? We could pick up something to eat and share the evening in my quarters.”

“I would like that.”

~~~

You ended up agreeing on sushi and picking some up in Burlington, before driving back to Nevermore and making your way to Larissa’s office.

When Larissa walked towards the door to her quarters, you shot her a confused glance.

“I don't want to be in my office this weekend,” Larissa supplied. “Unless it would make you uncomfortable…?” You quickly shook your head and followed her into her quarters, settling on the couch in her small sitting room.

The two of you dug into your sushi and you once again had to ignore the heat spreading in your core at the small moans of delight Larissa was letting out as she tried the different sushi rolls you’d ordered.

“Will you stop making those noises?” you snapped as Larissa let out a particularly lewd moan.

“Or what?” She quirked an eyebrow as she brought her chopsticks up to her mouth, wrapping her lips around the piece of sushi.

“I’m going to have to shut you up.”

Larissa’s next moan was your final straw. You surged forward, claiming her lips in a bruising kiss and causing her to gasp.

Larissa parted her lips for you and you wasted no time in licking into her mouth, your hands fisting needily at the fabric of her dress as you moved to straddle her. She leaned back against the couch cushions, pulling you on top of her and deepening the kiss, drawing a hungry groan from your chest.

You felt hot all over, the desire that had been clouding your mind since the beginning of your couples massage taking over your entire body as you pressed yourself flush against the blonde, slipping a hand between the two of you and hiking up her dress so you could brush your fingers against her core, feeling her wetness through her panties.

Larissa tensed beneath you, her hands dropping from your hips, her lips stilling against yours. Something was off. You removed your hand from her sex, using it instead to prop yourself up as you pulled away from the kiss, hovering over her. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears.

“What’s wrong?” Nothing like this had ever happened before, and you felt yourself begin to panic, running through the evening in your head and trying to think of anything that could’ve been different from your usual interactions.

She shook her head, turning her head to the side and gazing into the void as her cheeks went pink.

“Hey, talk to me, what happened?” You wanted to reach out, to cup her cheek, to hold her, but you didn’t want to make things worse so you sat up, trying to put some distance between the two of you in the hopes it would help her calm down.

“It’s silly,” she whispered, still refusing to meet your gaze.

“Nothing you could ever tell me is silly,” you said firmly.

Larissa struggled to find her voice as she grappled with her past, fears from past relationships and sexual encounters bubbling to the surface - fears that she’d almost forgotten about, situations that she’d buried (or so she thought) deep inside of her.

“In the past,” Larissa started, blinking a few times as if to will the tears back into her head. “I have had some… lovers, who knew of my shapeshifting.” Larissa’s voice was shaky, but she continued. “I have been asked to shift in… intimate moments before.”

You furrowed your brow, not quite following, until a thought dawned on you, though it seemed so absurd you could hardly believe it to be true. “Like what, turning into someone else? Like their fantasy or something?”

Larissa nodded, her teeth coming down on her bottom lip. “Or ex-girlfriends,” she added bitterly.

Anger bubbled hot in your veins. “I hope you told those jackasses off!” Your harsh tone caused Larissa to turn her head towards you, a mixture of anxiety and confusion marring her features. “If I could get my hands on them-”

Larissa let out a choked laugh and cut you off. “It’s in the past.”

“But it bothered you enough to stop kissing me,” you reasoned.

“You’re… the first person I’ve slept with who has known what I am in a long time,” she said quietly, so quietly you had to strain your ears to hear her.

“I would never ask that of you,” you said resolutely. “You are perfect the way you are, and there is no one - no other form or version of you or anyone else - that I would rather be sleeping with.”

Larissa’s eyes searched your own and she nodded hesitantly.

“Can I hold you?”

Larissa didn’t reply, rather, she reached her arms out, allowing you to fall into them. You hugged her back, fiercely and tightly, mind reeling at the thought of someone having this absolute goddess in their bed and wishing for her to be anyone but herself.

You remained locked in an embrace until Larissa began to squirm underneath you.

“Are you okay?” you murmured.

“I’m a bit too tall for the sofa,” she confessed and you laughed, glancing over your shoulder and taking in the awkward angle at which Larissa was holding her legs.

“I don’t want to let you go,” you pouted playfully, giving her a squeeze.

“Can we at least move this to the bed then?” Larissa teased, already pushing you off of her.

You agreed and allowed her to lead you to her bed, where you settled beside her and pulled her back into your arms. She slung an arm over your waist and rested her head on your chest.

“I’m sorry some people decided to be so cruel to you, Riss. You don’t deserve that.”

It wasn’t until Larissa’s head shot up that you realized what you had called her.

“Larissa. I’m sorry.” You worried again that you had crossed some sort of boundary, initiated some sort of unwelcome intimacy by your use of the nickname, but Larissa simply smiled brightly.

“I haven’t been called that in a long time.” There was so much wonder in her eyes that it took your breath away. “I like it.” She ducked her head, hiding her face in the crook of your neck.

You tightened your grip on her waist, smiling to yourself and relaxing against her as both of your breaths evened out.

You could feel your hold on the waking world slipping, your eyes threatening to fall shut, and you attempted to untangle your limbs from Larissa’s. She reacted by letting out a discontented sigh and pushing herself possessively against you.

“Stay?” she mumbled, voice thick with sleep.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, remember?” you whispered, pressing a kiss to her cheek and squeezing her gently before slipping off the bed. “Don’t forget to take the pins out of your hair, or you’ll wake up with a headache.”

Larissa hummed, pushing herself off the bed and following you as you gathered your shoes and your bag from the sitting room. She walked you to the door and, just before you could turn to leave, pulled you in for a tight hug.

“Thank you,” she said quietly. 

“Anytime.”

x

#larissa weems x reader #larissa weems #larissa x reader #principal weems #principal weems x reader #in my head #in my head series

[a-reader-and-a-writer]

Stand By Your Man

Whumptober 2022: 13. Dislocation, 31. Comfort Fandom: Outer Range, Rhett Abbott Word Count: 1919 TW: Shoulder Dislocation, Pain, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Vomiting Note: Based on the scene in Episode 8 of Outer Range.

You knew Rhett Abbott better than almost anyone else alive. The two of you had been best friends since elementary school, began dating junior year of high school, and had been engaged for the past year. Plus, you had been his head chute assistant since his very first bull ride. You knew when he was on top of the world, and when something was wrong. And from the second he was thrown from his bull and slammed into the ground, you knew something was very wrong.

You saw the way his eyes bulged as all the muscles in his jaw and neck clenched and tightened. How his fingers frantically clawed into the dirt as he tried to grasp onto something, anything. The way he struggled to rise to his feet even as the bull bucked and kicked inches from his prone, shaking body. You flew from your spot at the other end of the arena and rushed toward him.

By the time you cleared the distance, one of the barrelmen had managed to grab Rhett and haul him into the safety of one of the chutes. As you approached, he was staring woefully up at the scoreboard, and you glanced up just in time to see the results from his last ride drop his name to last place.

While equally as disappointed, at that moment all you cared about was the safety and well-being of your fiancé. Peering through the bars of the chute, you called out, “Rhett!”

Turning towards the sound of your voice, he stumbled to you, his right arm grasping his left so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. The second he was out of the arena, your hands were all over him, roaming over his body as you tried to assess his injuries. “What is it? What happened?”

“Shoulder.” The single word dripped with pain as he thrust it through gritted teeth. When your fingers lightly brushed across the damaged spot, his face screwed up in agony.

Looking around quickly to make sure no one else had noticed his injury, you led him over to a secluded area behind the bleachers. However, your blood soon ran cold as you examined his injuries. You bit your lip in an attempt to hide your concern as you glanced up at him. “Baby…. This looks really bad. Your shoulder is dislocated at least. Probably worse. You can’t ride like this.”

“Just one more round. 8 seconds. That’s all I need.” His words were curt and choppy as he tried to spit them out through his clenched jaw.

“Rhett! It’s 8 seconds on top of a 2-thousand-pound bull with nothing to hold you on but your injured arm. If something goes wrong…. You could be killed.”

“If I don’t, I’ll be disqualified.” When he looked at you, his eyes were silently pleading with you through the pain. “If I move on, this’ll be our best chance ta get outta here. Once an’ for all. I can still win, I just…. I need your help.”

“Baby, I…. There are more important things than winning. I just…. it’s too dangerous. I can’t…” You tried to express exactly what you were feeling, yet the words wouldn’t come.

His jaw tightened and his nostrils flared as he glared at you. “Fine. You don’t have ta help. Just don’t stand in my way.” He swerved passed you, careful to avoid bumping his injured shoulder as he headed back towards the arena.

You stared after him, debating your next move. You could walk away, just head up into the stands and watch what happened during his ride or even walk out of the stadium, but you knew your nerves could never handle either of those scenarios. You could also go report him. One word to anyone on the medical team and they would pull him immediately. However, that would also be the end of your relationship. Rhett would never forgive you for getting him disqualified, especially against his explicit wishes. So, that left you with one option.

With a heavy sigh, you followed after your fiancé. He was leaning heavily against the side of the gate, watching the next rider as he tumbled to the ground. Another poor run, which meant Rhett had an even better chance of advancing. But only if he rode again.

You stood next to him silently for a moment as they cleared the arena for the next bout. Then, you muttered, “If nothing else, I’m gonna have to pop your arm back into place. You won’t even be able to grip the rope like this.”

His eyes darted to yours as a silent “thanks” passed between you. However, as he opened his mouth to say something, you quickly grabbed his arm and pulled. Rhett doubled over and he let out a strangled grunt, but you felt his arm slide back into its socket. Gently letting go of it, you leaned over and placed a long kiss on the top of his head. “I’m sorry, baby. I thought it would be easier that way. At least the worst of it is over.”

Rhett slowly straightened, panting slightly as he said, “Thanks. Feels a little better.” Yet you watched as he tried to flex his fingers and another wave of pain shot across his face. Keeling over once more, he vomited weakly into the dust.

You squeezed your eyes together as you bit your lip, trying not to let the tears that were welling up in your eyes fall. Seeing Rhett in this much pain caused a physical ache in your chest and you knew whatever agony he was showing you was only a fraction of what he was really feeling. But there was nothing more you could do, so you just lay your hand on his hunched shoulders and rubbed soothing circles up and down his back.

After a few minutes, he looked up at you. “Can you go get me a beer?” he asked hoarsely as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

Giving his right shoulder a soft squeeze, you cooed, “Yeah, baby. Of course. I’ll be right back.”

When you returned a few moments later with a cold beer in your hand, Rhett was crouched down with his arm held tightly against his chest. You offered him the can and he gratefully took it from you. After taking a long swig, he swirled the liquid around in his mouth and spat it into the dirt. Then he downed the rest of the beer in one long chug.

When he nodded softly at you, you gently wrapped your hands around his uninjured arm and helped haul him to his feet. He still flinched, yet the pain didn’t seem to be as bad as before. Sighing, he began to walk back over to the chute but you stopped him.

Grasping his face between your hands, you forced him to look at you. “Rhett. If you can’t do this, it’ll be okay. Don’t throw away your entire career by going out there and hurting yourself worse. There’ll be other competitions, other rides. I’ll stand behind you, whatever you decide, just don’t let your pride destroy you.”

Rhett stared into your eyes from underneath his hat. “I can do this. I know I can.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay. Then you get out there and show them what you got.”

For the first time since climbing onto the bull back in the chute, a hint of a smile fluttered across Rhett’s face. He tilted your chin back so he could place a firm kiss on your lips before pulling back and resting the brim of his hat against your forehead. Stroking your cheek, he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you murmured back. “Now we have to go before you’re disqualified.”

You helped Rhett back over to the chute just as his bull was being loaded up. A few of the other guys shot you a questioning glance as they saw how Rhett was holding his arm, but you flashed them an icy glare and they instantly backed down. You had been working with most of these guys long enough for them to know if you said Rhett was good to go, he was good to go. You just hoped this time you weren’t lying.

Over the loud snorts and bellows of the bull, you could just make out Rhett’s groans of pain as Tom and Kyle helped lower him onto the beast. You just hoped you were the only one who noticed. 

Rhett’s eyes flickered to yours for a moment before glancing down at the bull rope next to his hand. Immediately, you understood. While his shoulder was no longer dislocated, he was still too weak and in too much pain to secure the rope as tightly as it needed to be. Without a word, you leaned over and coiled the rope around his hand before closing his fingers around it. You gave his fist a reassuring squeeze. He gave you a soft nod of thanks. 

As everyone began retreating from the chute, you saw Rhett glance up into the stands and you watched as his face fell. You knew exactly who he was looking for, and it somehow didn’t surprise you when you looked to the spot his family always sat and found only an empty hole. Not a single one of them had stayed to watch Rhett’s last ride. 

Swallowing your anger and disgust, you gently grabbed Rhett’s chin and turned his face so he had to drag his gaze away from the stands. Once his eyes met yours, you smiled and whispered, “Hey… you got this, baby. Now, give ‘em hell.”

A small smile tugged at his lips as he dipped his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

You grinned and leaned over to kiss his cheek one last time before you jumped off the side of the chute and ran over to the edge of the arena to watch his ride. Just before they opened the gate, you took a deep breath and held it. 

Seconds later, Rhett’s bull exploded from the chute with Rhett clinging on tightly with one hand, the other held high in the air. He didn’t quite have his usual grace and agility, but all things considered, he was doing a lot better than you thought he would. 

Come on, baby. Just eight seconds. You can do it. Just hold on.

The timer illuminated on the scoreboard had never moved so slowly before. Each second seemed to drag on for an hour or more. But finally, it reached the blessed 8 and the siren sounded but you barely heard it over the sound of your cheers. 

Rhett tumbled off the side of the bull and scurried to his feet to avoid being trampled. He managed to get to the chute safely but you still couldn’t relax yet. As soon as you saw he was safe, your eyes shot to the scoreboard. Once again, time seemed to stop as you waited for his scores to fill the board. appear………………

"Yes!" you screamed as the scores began scrolling across the board. It was an amazing total, more than enough to make up for his first ride and secure him a spot in the championship. "That's my man!" 

Rhett must have heard you because he turned towards the sound of your voice, his face beaming under the arena lights. When he spotted you, he exaggeratedly mouthed I love you. You grinned and replied I love you too. 

Taglist: @loverhymeswith, @babblydrabbly, @mayhem24-7forever, @hederasgarden, @wildbornsiren, @merlehs, @sunshineflowerchild789, @11thstreetvigilante, @pansexualwitchwhoneedstherapy

#whumptober #whumptober2022 #whumptober 2022 #fic #no.13 #no.31 #dislocation #comfort #outer range #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #lewis pullman #angst #whump #hurt/comfort #hurt & comfort #shoulder dislocation tw #pain tw

[a-reader-and-a-writer-for-all]

Stand By Your Man

Whumptober 2022: 13. Dislocation, 31. Comfort Fandom: Outer Range, Rhett Abbott Word Count: 1919 TW: Shoulder Dislocation, Pain, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Vomiting Note: Based on the scene in Episode 8 of Outer Range.

You knew Rhett Abbott better than almost anyone else alive. The two of you had been best friends since elementary school, began dating junior year of high school, and had been engaged for the past year. Plus, you had been his head chute assistant since his very first bull ride. You knew when he was on top of the world, and when something was wrong. And from the second he was thrown from his bull and slammed into the ground, you knew something was very wrong.

You saw the way his eyes bulged as all the muscles in his jaw and neck clenched and tightened. How his fingers frantically clawed into the dirt as he tried to grasp onto something, anything. The way he struggled to rise to his feet even as the bull bucked and kicked inches from his prone, shaking body. You flew from your spot at the other end of the arena and rushed toward him.

By the time you cleared the distance, one of the barrelmen had managed to grab Rhett and haul him into the safety of one of the chutes. As you approached, he was staring woefully up at the scoreboard, and you glanced up just in time to see the results from his last ride drop his name to last place.

While equally as disappointed, at that moment all you cared about was the safety and well-being of your fiancé. Peering through the bars of the chute, you called out, “Rhett!”

Turning towards the sound of your voice, he stumbled to you, his right arm grasping his left so tightly that his knuckles were turning white. The second he was out of the arena, your hands were all over him, roaming over his body as you tried to assess his injuries. “What is it? What happened?”

“Shoulder.” The single word dripped with pain as he thrust it through gritted teeth. When your fingers lightly brushed across the damaged spot, his face screwed up in agony.

Looking around quickly to make sure no one else had noticed his injury, you led him over to a secluded area behind the bleachers. However, your blood soon ran cold as you examined his injuries. You bit your lip in an attempt to hide your concern as you glanced up at him. “Baby…. This looks really bad. Your shoulder is dislocated at least. Probably worse. You can’t ride like this.”

“Just one more round. 8 seconds. That’s all I need.” His words were curt and choppy as he tried to spit them out through his clenched jaw.

“Rhett! It’s 8 seconds on top of a 2-thousand-pound bull with nothing to hold you on but your injured arm. If something goes wrong…. You could be killed.”

“If I don’t, I’ll be disqualified.” When he looked at you, his eyes were silently pleading with you through the pain. “If I move on, this’ll be our best chance ta get outta here. Once an’ for all. I can still win, I just…. I need your help.”

“Baby, I…. There are more important things than winning. I just…. it’s too dangerous. I can’t…” You tried to express exactly what you were feeling, yet the words wouldn’t come.

His jaw tightened and his nostrils flared as he glared at you. “Fine. You don’t have ta help. Just don’t stand in my way.” He swerved passed you, careful to avoid bumping his injured shoulder as he headed back towards the arena.

You stared after him, debating your next move. You could walk away, just head up into the stands and watch what happened during his ride or even walk out of the stadium, but you knew your nerves could never handle either of those scenarios. You could also go report him. One word to anyone on the medical team and they would pull him immediately. However, that would also be the end of your relationship. Rhett would never forgive you for getting him disqualified, especially against his explicit wishes. So, that left you with one option.

With a heavy sigh, you followed after your fiancé. He was leaning heavily against the side of the gate, watching the next rider as he tumbled to the ground. Another poor run, which meant Rhett had an even better chance of advancing. But only if he rode again.

You stood next to him silently for a moment as they cleared the arena for the next bout. Then, you muttered, “If nothing else, I’m gonna have to pop your arm back into place. You won’t even be able to grip the rope like this.”

His eyes darted to yours as a silent “thanks” passed between you. However, as he opened his mouth to say something, you quickly grabbed his arm and pulled. Rhett doubled over and he let out a strangled grunt, but you felt his arm slide back into its socket. Gently letting go of it, you leaned over and placed a long kiss on the top of his head. “I’m sorry, baby. I thought it would be easier that way. At least the worst of it is over.”

Rhett slowly straightened, panting slightly as he said, “Thanks. Feels a little better.” Yet you watched as he tried to flex his fingers and another wave of pain shot across his face. Keeling over once more, he vomited weakly into the dust.

You squeezed your eyes together as you bit your lip, trying not to let the tears that were welling up in your eyes fall. Seeing Rhett in this much pain caused a physical ache in your chest and you knew whatever agony he was showing you was only a fraction of what he was really feeling. But there was nothing more you could do, so you just lay your hand on his hunched shoulders and rubbed soothing circles up and down his back.

After a few minutes, he looked up at you. “Can you go get me a beer?” he asked hoarsely as he wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

Giving his right shoulder a soft squeeze, you cooed, “Yeah, baby. Of course. I’ll be right back.”

When you returned a few moments later with a cold beer in your hand, Rhett was crouched down with his arm held tightly against his chest. You offered him the can and he gratefully took it from you. After taking a long swig, he swirled the liquid around in his mouth and spat it into the dirt. Then he downed the rest of the beer in one long chug.

When he nodded softly at you, you gently wrapped your hands around his uninjured arm and helped haul him to his feet. He still flinched, yet the pain didn’t seem to be as bad as before. Sighing, he began to walk back over to the chute but you stopped him.

Grasping his face between your hands, you forced him to look at you. “Rhett. If you can’t do this, it’ll be okay. Don’t throw away your entire career by going out there and hurting yourself worse. There’ll be other competitions, other rides. I’ll stand behind you, whatever you decide, just don’t let your pride destroy you.”

Rhett stared into your eyes from underneath his hat. “I can do this. I know I can.”

You nodded slowly. “Okay. Then you get out there and show them what you got.”

For the first time since climbing onto the bull back in the chute, a hint of a smile fluttered across Rhett’s face. He tilted your chin back so he could place a firm kiss on your lips before pulling back and resting the brim of his hat against your forehead. Stroking your cheek, he whispered, “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you murmured back. “Now we have to go before you’re disqualified.”

You helped Rhett back over to the chute just as his bull was being loaded up. A few of the other guys shot you a questioning glance as they saw how Rhett was holding his arm, but you flashed them an icy glare and they instantly backed down. You had been working with most of these guys long enough for them to know if you said Rhett was good to go, he was good to go. You just hoped this time you weren’t lying.

Over the loud snorts and bellows of the bull, you could just make out Rhett’s groans of pain as Tom and Kyle helped lower him onto the beast. You just hoped you were the only one who noticed. 

Rhett’s eyes flickered to yours for a moment before glancing down at the bull rope next to his hand. Immediately, you understood. While his shoulder was no longer dislocated, he was still too weak and in too much pain to secure the rope as tightly as it needed to be. Without a word, you leaned over and coiled the rope around his hand before closing his fingers around it. You gave his fist a reassuring squeeze. He gave you a soft nod of thanks. 

As everyone began retreating from the chute, you saw Rhett glance up into the stands and you watched as his face fell. You knew exactly who he was looking for, and it somehow didn’t surprise you when you looked to the spot his family always sat and found only an empty hole. Not a single one of them had stayed to watch Rhett’s last ride. 

Swallowing your anger and disgust, you gently grabbed Rhett’s chin and turned his face so he had to drag his gaze away from the stands. Once his eyes met yours, you smiled and whispered, “Hey… you got this, baby. Now, give ‘em hell.”

A small smile tugged at his lips as he dipped his head. “Yes, ma’am.”

You grinned and leaned over to kiss his cheek one last time before you jumped off the side of the chute and ran over to the edge of the arena to watch his ride. Just before they opened the gate, you took a deep breath and held it. 

Seconds later, Rhett’s bull exploded from the chute with Rhett clinging on tightly with one hand, the other held high in the air. He didn’t quite have his usual grace and agility, but all things considered, he was doing a lot better than you thought he would. 

Come on, baby. Just eight seconds. You can do it. Just hold on.

The timer illuminated on the scoreboard had never moved so slowly before. Each second seemed to drag on for an hour or more. But finally, it reached the blessed 8 and the siren sounded but you barely heard it over the sound of your cheers. 

Rhett tumbled off the side of the bull and scurried to his feet to avoid being trampled. He managed to get to the chute safely but you still couldn’t relax yet. As soon as you saw he was safe, your eyes shot to the scoreboard. Once again, time seemed to stop as you waited for his scores to fill the board. appear………………

"Yes!" you screamed as the scores began scrolling across the board. It was an amazing total, more than enough to make up for his first ride and secure him a spot in the championship. "That's my man!" 

Rhett must have heard you because he turned towards the sound of your voice, his face beaming under the arena lights. When he spotted you, he exaggeratedly mouthed I love you. You grinned and replied I love you too. 

Taglist:@luckyladycreator2, @nik2blog, @dumb-fawkin-bitch, @shirley2996

#whumptober #whumptober2022 #whumptober 2022 #fic #no.13 #no.31 #dislocation #comfort #outer range #rhett abbott #rhett abbott x reader #rhett abbott x you #lewis pullman #angst #whump #hurt/comfort #hurt & comfort #shoulder dislocation tw #pain tw

[euphoricfilter]

Devil That I Know (Part 4)

~ At the end of the crossroad

Pairing: Demon! Jungkook x Human! Reader

Genre: (Inaccurate) Historical AU || Strangers to lovers AU || Supernatural AU || Smut || Fluff || Angst

Summary: Picking which road to go down is easy when you think about how alone you would be without Jungkook, even if he hadn't been the most honest with you from the start.

Word count: 9k

Tags/ warnings: angst, fluffy-ish, minor mention of blood, self deprecation, more lying, soft yandere kook, mentions of murder/ killing, definitely probably an unhealthy relationship, too much talking about dates it's slightly confusing me thinks that is all

Notes: after a two month hiatus i have returned to my favorite child, i don’t really have an excuse except i’m ass at multitasking and shouldn’t have started a second series basically right after starting this one, so i recommend maybe going back and re-reading the last chapter like i had to unless you have sexy good memory

my full masterlist

series masterlist

part 5

+++

(Year 1865)

“Are you still mad?”

“Of course I’m mad Jungkook” you look at him in disbelief, “What if they had been thorough in their search? What if they found out you were the one who killed that man? Are you stupid?”

Jungkook swallows thickly, bottom lip jutting out into a pout as you berate him. He was more upset that you seemed genuinely angry with him that the possible consequences of getting caught because he couldn’t keep his anger in line. It wasn’t his fault the seedy old man had touched you without consent, what was he meant to do?  Let the man go? That would go against all his morals and values.

“I told you it wasn’t me” he gently grabs your hands, his thumbs running over your palms. He looks down, eyebrows furrowing as a sad pout moulds onto his face, surely you couldn’t be angry at him when he looked so upset!

You look at him with a deadpan look, pulling your hands from his own. Because even if Jeon Jungkook looked like a kicked puppy, you weren’t about to forget the crime he had committed. And you would make it clear that if you were carry on knowing each other then he wasn’t allowed to go around killing men or women. Or anyone for that matter whatever they identified as. No killing.

By some miracle you’d made it out of the village without any other issues; you’d been so scared when you’d been stopped at the gate, convinced your life was truly over when it had hardly even begun. Turns out the men couldn’t care less about the murder, forced into the job last minute by the head of the village because no one had volunteered, simply asking the three of you to step away from the wagon so they could take a look for anything suspicious.

It seemed the man who had harassed you hadn’t been liked by many, the chief of the village only going ahead with protocol to appease his higher up in the capital so he himself wouldn’t be arrested.

They hadn’t even looked into any bags, their eyes skimming over what you were carrying, mindless hums passing through their lips as they prodded a bag or two, giving the three of you a curt nod and wishing you luck on your travels.

You’d thanked them, not missing the way their eyes had lingered at your chest as you climbed back into the back of the wagon; and it took all your will power not to kick them where the sun doesn’t shine. Namjoon seemed to share your anxiety, the way his shoulders had stayed tense until you were far enough from the village a clear sign, he had shared your sentiment. Only relaxing slightly once far enough to be considered safe.

You didn’t blame him. Felt a little sorry if anything.

It wasn’t every day that you have to travel with two complete strangers. One a four-armed demon who had arguably (definitely had) twisted morals, who was stubborn beyond belief sometimes and a foreigner who may still be wanted dead by the royal family because they believed you were a spy. (Something you will soon find out is a law that was demolished 6 years ago along with the fact there was a new king)

“Now you must think I’m stupid” you shake your head, “what other demon would have been in that small village?”

“Probably a lot” Jungkook argues, “I’m not the only demon and you know that”

You release a heavy sigh, fingers coming up to pinch the bridge of your nose, “No killing people, okay? It’s not right”

“I would never” Jungkook says, lie easily slipping through his cushiony lips. Anything to appease you.

You make eye contact with him, searching for something behind his onyx eyes, only to find nothing. He didn’t seem to be lying, Jungkook had no reason to lie to you. Maybe it was a little naïve of you to believe that Jungkook could do no wrong; maybe you were biased because he’d only ever shown you kindness. He treated you as an equal, not some house maid that had to cook and clean all day, nothing more than a tool for him to boss around to feed into some fucked up superiority complex. You’d liked to believe Jungkook was as honest with you as you are with him, and it felt easy to read him, like he wore his heart on his sleeve and if he were to ever lie, you’d know.

“Okay, I believe you” you whisper, heartrate picking up as he smiles down at you so brightly. How could someone so kind kill a man? Sure, he threatened Namjoon here and there but you saw where your demon friend was coming from, the world was a shitty place and not everyone can be trusted.

Namjoon clearing his throat catches your attention, “We’re almost at the capital” he informs.

You look up at the sky, full moon hanging high above the three of you, illuminating the path for Namjoon as he meanders down the dirt road towards the large gates of the capital.

You peek over the walls of the wagon, lips quirking into an excited smile as you catch the faint silhouette of a few high-rise buildings. It was hard to see in the silver glow of the moonlight, but you imagine it looked exactly how Taehyung had described it in his notebook. Tomorrow you’d have to take a look over his notes again and plan out how you’d spend the next three days here with Jungkook.

You turn your head to look at said demon as he snakes his arm over your shoulders, his eyes trained on the path ahead, his own smile quirking onto his lips.

“If it looks this beautiful in the moonlight it must be ethereal during the day” you tell him, smile widening when he turns his head to look at you.

Your eyes close briefly when he leans forwards, a gentle kiss being pressed between your eyebrows.

“Yes, but nothing will ever match your beauty” he murmurs against your skin, your eyebrows furrowing at the ticklish feeling.  

You let out an unattractive scoff, pushing his arm from your shoulder as you sit back down, view of the capital being obscured by the walls of the wagon. Jungkook sits back too, a knowing smile on his face as he starts packing up both of your things into his backpack.

He just adored how shy you could be something, and he didn’t mind playing your little games if it meant he could see the strawberry pink flush of your cheeks, illuminated by the silver moonlight.

Jungkook wishes he could engrave this moment into his mind. You always had looked like a fairy in the cool glow beneath the moon, so undeniably beautiful he wanted to keep you all to himself. No one in this world deserving enough to see you looking so delicate, no one but himself. He find it hard to keep his hands to himself, wanting to caress your soft skin, kiss every inch of your body until you understand its beauty, maybe leave a love bite or two so you’ll remember him even when not together. He wonders if you’d trace the sensitive skin, pressing on it just to feel the dull ache, or if you would leave them out in the open for anyone else to see; a sign that you’re taken.

The rest of the night went by in a blur, entering the capital was easier than you had initially assumed it to be, you believe because it was so late into the night the guards were laxer than they would be during the day. It didn’t seem to be common for visitors to arrive so late, the three of you the only ones waiting for the gate to be opened, what lay beyond the walls silent, everyone having gone to bed or closed their shops until sunrise.

A guard had recognised Namjoon, more than happy to hurry up the process of getting you into a decent inn so you wouldn’t have to camp out in the wagon until morning; understanding your backs must ache and eye weary from a long day of travel.

The woman at the front of the inn was more than happy to house the three of you for the next few days, a beautiful smile on her face as she handed Namjoon and Jungkook a key. She’d then turned to you, assuring you that you were more than welcome to come and sit in the bar area downstairs and embroider with her during the day, she was having trouble with a project and would be extremely happy if you were to help out at some point.

You’d eagerly nodded, smile so wide your cheeks had started to hurt. No one had ever wanted you to help them with their embroidery before!

She reminded you of the mother you’d never had, something so soft and warm about her that you couldn’t help but say yes to everything she was saying. You’d have to sit with her at breakfast and ask her what the capital was really like, and maybe she could even look through Taehyung’s diary with you and make a plan to make the most of your three days in the capital.

“Good night” you wave to Namjoon as he unlocks the door to his own room adjacent from yours and Jungkook’s.

Namjoon waves back, dimpled smile making a brief appearance before he scuttles back into his room, door being locked from the inside.

Jungkook pulls out a pair of pyjamas for you to wear, throwing them onto the bed as you flop onto the mattress.

“Get changed before you sleep, pretty” he reminds you, smiling when you reply, muffled by your head being stuffed into the layers of silky blankets on the bed. Though he assumes it must be something along the lines of ‘can’t be bothered’ to ‘in a minute, kook’

He rummages through his bag, trying to find his own sleep clothes (he liked to pretend to sleep beside you even if his body didn’t need it like yours did, something so blissfully domestic about laying beside you, your calm breath a beautiful symphony in the dead of night), however his focus is trained on you. The slow raise and fall of your body as you just lay there, unmoving, exhausted.

He tuts, abandoning his task as he pushes himself up from the floor, sauntering over towards you with purpose in his steps.

You let out a surprised squeak when his first pair of arms snakes around your waist, easily lifting you to sit up.

“Come on” he encourages, one of his arms stretching to grab your discarded clothes, placing them in your lap.

“But ‘m sleepy kookie” you whine, falling back onto the mattress with a dramatic sigh.

Jungkook, amused, lifts you up again, this time by pulling you up from under your arms, like one would a baby. And maybe you were his baby, the most precious little thing in his life. Truthfully, he doesn’t mind moment like this, adores them actually. Each time you rely on him, he can prove to you that he is good enough to provide for you, and he can only hope that with small moments like these you were slowly falling in love with him. He knows you’d never love him as much as he loved you, that was impossible! No one could love anything as much as he absolutely worships your very being, but he believes one day you’ll love him. He believes you already do, why else would you have stuck around for so long? He just knows you’re a little shy and being the considerate person that he is, he’ll wait a little longer before he tells you his master plan. Surely you’d be thrilled.

The perfect plan to keep the two of you together for the rest of time. Even thinking about it makes his cheeks burn, dusted a light pink, like the sunsets that you like to watch each evening while he reads you passages of his favourite books, maybe even feeding you a slice of fruit between pages just to make sure you’re not hungry before bed.

You don’t complain as he easily slips your shirt from your head, sighing in bliss as he kisses your bare shoulders before helping you put one of your sleep shirts on. He does the same with your pants, placing a feather light kiss to your ankle as he helps you change. Fingers skimming your pretty skin, he has to stop himself more than once from running his tongue along the expanse of it, wanting to relish the feeling of you in as many ways possible.

Once done, he leaves you to flop back on the bed, reminding him of a sleepy floppy bunny, as he lifts a few of the blankets, before lifting you to tuck you into bed; something had seemed to be a routine at this point. He wouldn’t be able to count on his four hands the number of times he’d been able to tuck you into his bed, safe from the world, if only for a night.

“Thank you” you whisper, voice laced with sleep.

Jungkook brushes your hair from your face, deftly tucking it behind your ears.

“Anything for you” he whispers back, a fond smile on his face.

He waits until you’re asleep, carefully slipping from the bed, trying his best not to wake you because he knew you were a light sleeper. Rummaging through his bag he bites his lip as he pulls a map from one of the pockets. Trying his best to stay silent, as unrolls the paper, humming to himself as he scans the map, finger tracing the library he needed to visit. He wondered if books were more expensive in the capital, Taehyung would usually collect the ones he wanted, and it was easier to give his friend a few coins each month and whatever was left, Taehyung could keep. Jungkook never had much care for money anyways.  

He nods in thought, turning towards the bag once more, praying to the devil down below that he had enough for the specific book he wanted, no… needed.

He rummages around until he finds the small pouch of money. Opening the drawer strings, he cringes at how much the two of you had left. Saving had started to get harder over the last few years. After the new king had risen to power and demons had become public enemy number one, the villagers hadn’t been as generous with putting their coins into shrines.

And Jungkook was now facing the consequences.

His whole life he had relied on the money humans would leave at his shrine, it was easy to live off, even after you’d started living with himself and Taehyung, the donations were generous enough he never had to worry about money for food, clothes or books, but looking now, money was starting to become an issue.

He wouldn’t tell you this of course. He couldn’t have you worrying, he couldn’t let your pretty little head come up with a stupid idea (like leaving him), just because the two of you had to be a little frugal with your money until he figured out a way to earn a decent living once again.

Maybe he could sell Taehyung’s art, it wouldn’t sell for a lot, Taehyung was by no means a well-respected painter, that is why he had struggled for years before he’d met Jungkook. But that didn’t mean his art was worthless, they would have to at least sell for a couple of pennies a piece.

Jungkook thinks you wouldn’t be happy if he were to sell Taehyung’s art. You adored it, having spent hours a day letting Taehyung teach you the basics of painting, and after finally getting a glimpse at his art, you’d stay hauled up in Taehyung’s room, connecting with him through his artwork even if he wasn’t physically with you anymore. You’d be crushed if any of the pieces were to disappear.

Maybe he could take a few of the smaller pieces? The ones you wouldn’t notice went missing, he just needed a way to earn a few extra coins. The last thing he needed was for you to starve. Or even worse, you to leave him because he can’t provide for the two of you. And if you were to find out, he could jut out his bottom lip, maybe even shed a tear or two until you forgave him, he’s sure you’d understand his struggle if he cried a little.

+++

Namjoon was suspicious.

He’d been thinking for a few days, ever since he’d spoken to you at the beach about the village in-front of the mountains and how you’d met Jungkook. It all seemed… off. Nothing was falling into place. Odd pieces of the puzzle that didn’t connect, or worse, that one puzzle piece that goes missing, impossible to find and so the picture will remain incomplete. Forever.

He had considered asking you a few more things about Jungkook but decided against it. Not only was Jungkook constantly glued to your side, the few times he strayed away from the two of you, he seemed to be lurking close by enough to be able to listen to your conversations. So, asking you was out of the question. For now.

And from what he had seen, you probably weren’t the best person to ask about the demon.

Sure, you lived with him, probably knew a lot more than you were letting on but either the demon was threatening you to not say anything, or you genuinely didn’t know all that much. Both seemed just as likely. Namjoon had been on the receiving end of Jungkook’s threats more than a few times during this trip and knew how scary he could be, but Jungkook was also extremely secretive. Like how he clearly didn’t want you know about what happened in the village 6 years ago.

Namjoon was also suspicious of the fact that you seemed to have forgotten a lot of what happened in your life over the last few months. By no means was he a doctor, he’d given up on that dream long ago, but nothing made sense. You seemed so confused, genuinely asking him for help, and no matter how hard he tried to think of ways your memories had disappeared, the conclusion always led back to Jungkook. Suspicious Jungkook who definitely had a few too many secrets.

And so, Namjoon had the bright idea to follow the demon to wherever he may be going instead of interrogating you back at the inn while you had breakfast with the nice front desk lady.

It wasn’t all that surprising when Jungkook walks into a library, the demon always had a book in his hands. And with how much he read, Namjoon wasn’t all that surprised he needed a new book so soon into the trip.

What alarmed Namjoon was the location of the library, hidden in the dark crevices of an alley way on the outskirts of the capital. A place you’d have to have known prior to the trip happening, either having visited this location before, or someone who knew of it telling him before the trip had begun. It was in too much of an obscure place to be any old library.

Namjoon waits for Jungkook to enter the building, his foot tapping against the cobblestone path for what felt like a minute before he decides that he should just go in.

It looked like any other library, shelves stacked up to the ceiling, books organised by category, clearly labelled with large wooden signs, hung on the end of each shelf. The young boy behind the front desk hadn’t bothered to look up at from his own book as Namjoon wanders inside. (If he had, Namjoon would have seen the third eye the boy had)

It’s fairly easy to spot Jungkook even among the tall bookshelves with his broad back and slightly suspicious looking navy cloak, Namjoon tries his best to stay a fair amount of distance between the two of them. He wondered how good Jungkook’s senses must be as a demon and the last thing he wanted right now was to get caught. That would be the end of him, and he promised his mother he would be home within a week.

The village boy slips to hide behind a nearby shelf once Jungkook stands down one of the isles, fingers lightly skimming over the spines of a few books. He peeks up at the wooden sign, checking what sort of book Jungkook could be looking for.

His eyebrows furrow. ‘Conversion theory’

In all his times spent at libraries he’d never seen that genre of book. And Namjoon, although his friends back at the village make fun of him, quite likes to read. He had taught himself how to, never having had gone and learnt from a scholar, but he liked to live the lives of other through the pages.

He himself was trapped in his mundane life on the farm, nothing more going for him. But he could adventure the globe through a book, learn the history of his land, picture what life beyond the vast sea must be like, and so much more, just from paper and ink.

He takes a look at another shelf, gulping when he reads the sign.

‘Demonic entities’

Namjoon has to slap a hand over his mouth as he looks around, finally taking a look at the library properly; completely forgetting he was here to see what Jungkook could be trying to find.

Mixed among the humans were other beings, just like Jungkook.

+++

You watch Jungkook shove an unfamiliar book into the backpack, “You bought a new book?” you ask absentmindedly, more focused on brushing the knots out of your wet hair. You felt like a brand-new person, freshly washed, smelling a little less like dried blood and sweat after the incident from the day before.

You’d washed your hands at the previous inn, but the stench of blood had lingered, even then you don’t know if that was your mind playing tricks on you. The wound still fresh as you think back on the good times with your pretty kitty.  

You wondered if you were okay, feeling so numb to the fact that another companion of yours had died. That was the third one in under two years. You thought you would have cried more, wanting to lock yourself away from everyone else a wallow in self-pity until your head hurts and your skin is dry from the salty tears. But you felt the opposite, wanting to finally go out and explore. Maybe you were a shitty person for moving on so fast, but maybe it was for the better. Or maybe that was a smaller part of you trying to convince yourself it was all okay when in reality it really wasn’t.

You could only hope that your cat would have a better life when reborn. That would be enough to let you sleep peacefully at night.

Jungkook hums, “Something about the history of this land”

You nod, never having been fond of history. It felt a little a little unconventional, why would you focus so much on what has already happened when you have the whole future to look forward to?

“I was thinking we could go out for lunch; I saw a nice place on my walk this morning” Jungkook turns towards you, happy with how far down he’d been able to stuff his book into the bag.

He doubted you’d ever rummage through his stuff, seeming more content with him riffling through the bag to get clean clothes or a snack. But better to safe than sorry. Especially since it was becoming evident you could read now; he would hate for his plans to be ruined because he was kind enough to share his knowledge with you.

“Sure” you reply, handing him the hairbrush to be put back neatly into the bag.

Jungkook was right, the small building the two of you had entered was more than nice. It even had two floors! (The owner explaining it had been inspired by building from the countries overseas who had places to eat with more than the ground floor like the hanoks) The outside was lined with small flowers, vines clinging to the walls, climbing their way up to the balconies above the ground floor.

You don’t ask when Jungkook requests the private balcony area on the second floor, assuming it was so the two of you could eat comfortably without worrying someone would try and hand you into the royal family or freaking out because Jungkook had four arms.

You watch the bustling streets, watching some kids play a game you weren’t familiar with, a few stealing loose fruits from crates, giggling as a few elderly people chase after them.

You wonder if that is what a real childhood looked like. All the children in the capital seemed so happy, happy with their parents and siblings, happy with their lives. The perfect life you could only ever have dreamt of becoming a reality.

You wouldn’t say you were jealous. If you hadn’t left the home you’d grown up in, your life would have been completely different. Your friend would still be alive, maybe you would have married by now. His father wouldn’t have approved, but you supposed you could have run away together. If you’d run away would the outcome, be the same? Would he have died because he had married a spy? You suppose he wouldn’t have been safe either way.

Regret is a fickle thing. There have been so many moments in your recent life where you wish you could just go back and change what has happened. You wouldn’t care if the future was different, that is something the you of then would have figure out. Because the you of now wanted to go back and change all the times something had led to the death of someone you loved so dearly.

You would convince your friend to stay home, he wouldn’t have died a brutal death. You would tell Taehyung he shouldn’t go down to the village, you’d go alone because if you could survive the disease once you could do it again and then he would still be by your side. You’d have taken lil meow down with you to breakfast the other morning, that way you’d still have your furry companion.

You regret not knowing, which in hindsight sounds stupid because how were you meant to know all of these bad bad things would happen? And it was easy to feel sorry for yourself, and the small, selfish part of you thinks that you feeling sorry for yourself if justified. Because why were you still alive and they weren’t?

Maybe you regret being born, you didn’t really have much say in the matter, but maybe it would have been better if you hadn’t tried so hard all your life to stay alive. Fighting tooth and nail to survive in a world that clearly didn’t want or need you.

If you hadn’t been born you wouldn’t be a bad omen to those around you, and everyone you’ve ever loved wouldn’t be dead. Jungkook may have been a special case, born blessed as a being that is unable to die. And maybe that’s why you stayed, because no matter how unlucky you may be, Jungkook would never fall into the hands of death because of you.

If you hadn’t been selfish, childish, then the poor cat would still be alive. Roaming the mountains free of burden. If you hadn’t been selfish and wanted to spend just a few more moments with your friend you’re your childhood, he wouldn’t have suffered an unjustified death. If you hadn’t agreed to stay in the hanbok, then maybe Taehyung could have waited out the winter with what food you’d eaten, and neither of you would have contracted a disease. He would still be alive and happy, carefree as he carries on the same routine he had for years without you coming and interrupting his peaceful life with his friend.

“Y/n?” Jungkook calls you, tugging at the sleeves of your cloak to catch your attention.

Your eyes flit up to meet his own.

“Are you okay?”

You hum, waving him off with a quick smile. It was easy to smile while looking at Jungkook’s face. Maybe it was because you didn’t want him to worry, so a smile was easy, or maybe Jungkook just had that affect. Such a nice face that you have no other choice but to smile too brightly at him. Or maybe you smile because you don’t want him to ask too many questions that you yourself don’t know the answer to.

He watches you for a moment longer, trying to gauge if you were lying or not. But then he sees your eyes light up at the array of food laid out on the table before the two of you.

“You bought so much” you mutter in awe.

“Well, aren’t you going to eat?” he asks, nudging a pair of chopsticks into your hands.

You nod slowly, “I’m trying to engrave what it looks like into my mind”

Jungkook laughs, a fond smile on his face as he just watches you, “No need, we’ll just come back in a few months and eat here again” he tells you, easy smile on his face.

“Okay” you grin.

Jungkook’s eyebrows furrow when you push yourself from the cushion on the floor, feet light as you skip your way over to his side of the table.

You lean down, pressing a kiss to his cheek, “Thank you for the food, Jungkookie” you smile.

Jungkook feels his heart stop, his fingers moving on their own as they wrap around your wrist.

Your head tilts in question, your breath hitching when he pulls on your wrist, so you’ve leant down once again.

You bite your lip to stop the big smile that threatened to pull onto your face when he presses a kiss onto the apple of your right cheek.

“You’re welcome, my lovely” he replies, motioning for you to go and sit down, “Now hurry and eat before the food gets cold”

“Yes sir” you mock salute, giggling when Jungkook rolls his eyes, tone teasing as he tells you to hurry up and sit down.

+++

You grip onto the sleeve of Jungkook’s cloak when a large group of people move in a clump down the narrow street.

You look up at Jungkook in confusion, ready to ask if he knew why so many people were moving in tandem, but your mouth clamps shut when you see the annoyed crease in his brows.

“Burn the demons!” a burly looking man shouts, the posse of people following him repeating his words with just as much enthusiasm.

Jungkook pulls you back into his chest when a new wave of civilians shove their way down the street, although their movements lack the mesmerising movements like the sea’s waves crashing against the shore, more shoulders bumping shoulders, the delicate crash of the waves replaced with grunts as they all bounce off one another.

“What’s going on?” you ask, voice raising in hopes that Jungkook would be able to hear you.

Either he does, or choses to ignore you as his fingers take a hold of your hand, dragging you into a narrow alley way beside the building the two of you had just had lunch in. You try and pull your hand from Jungkook’s fingers feeling as though they were going to snap with how tightly he was holding your hand.

“Jungkook what’s going on?” you ask, voice a little breathy as you try and catch up with Jungkook’s long strides.

The demon slows down a little, apologetic furrow of his brows as he watches you try and catch your breath, “They must be protesting” he mutters, and you simply nod.

“Against demons?” you ask, watching Jungkook release a long sigh.

“I should have told you” he turns towards you, “Not all demons are kind, my love. Some do bad things, and so they get punished” he explains, hoping the worry evident in his tone is enough to convince you of this white lie. It was technically half the truth, but you didn’t need to know the full problem, you losing your memories of what happened the night years back had already helped him move forwards in his plan.

As long as you believed it was the same year, where you were a wanted spy, and he was a harmless demon that was worshiped by all then everything would be okay. His plan would continue to run smoothly and then he could hold you in his arms without worrying about trivial human matters like death.

“Was there a bad demon here then?” you ask, worried you’d get caught in-between the conflict.

Jungkook nods, hand coming to rest on his chin as if in thought, “It seems so, we should head back to the inn for the rest of the day, just in case”  

“That’s probably a good idea” you agree.

Jungkook takes a step before stopping. You make a noise in the back of your throat in question, watching as he releases your hand, turning to face you as he rummages through the pockets of his cloak.

Your head tilts up to look into his eyes when he pulls what looks to be a small pocketknife from the confines of his cloak.

“What?” you ask when he thrusts it in your direction.

“Just in case something happens and I’m not there, you’ll be able to protect yourself” he leans down to take a hold of your right hand, placing the pocketknife into your palm.

Your left hand traces the intricate design of the handle, wood having been carved out into small delicate flowers, painted with so much care there were no smudges or random pieces of colour bleeding into one another. It truly was pretty, like nothing you’d ever seen before.

“Jungkook I—I can’t” you shake your head, not daring to sheath the actual blade.

“You know I’ll always be by your side to protect you, but just in case” he pushes your hand away when you try to give it back, “Please, I’ll be able to rest easy knowing that if anything were to happen to me, you’d at least be able to put up a fight”

You swallow, eyes flitting back down to the pocketknife before you look back at Jungkook. Even with the warm afternoon sun being obscured by the roofs of buildings, in the dingy alleyway that was nothing more than grey cobblestone, greened with moss and small weeds, Jungkook looked so pretty. He looked so calm, unlike how he had been moment ago in the street. You sometimes wonder if he had lied about being a demon, he looked nothing like the scary beings that old wives’ tales made them out to be. Maybe he truly fell from the sky, an angel sent to help guide you in life.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” he scoffs, finger pushing at your forehead.

You sigh, “I was imagining what I could do with this thing” you dangle the offending weapon between your thumb and forefinger

Jungkook laughs at that, “You can’t kill a demon with a measly knife” he waves you off, easily slipping his fingers between your own as he pulls you out the alleyway.

“Then how am I meant to defend myself”

“That’s what I’m here for”

“But you just—”

Jungkook presses a finger against your lips, “I’ll always be there for you, but it never hurts to have a back-up plan”

+++

You’d been thinking for a few days about the conversation you’d had with Namjoon about the part of your life that you felt, had gone missing. Maybe you were paranoid, or just plain stupid. Or maybe you imagined the incident that happened in the village. Or you were overthinking everything. All seemed like possible answers but no matter how hard you try to remember, you can only ever think back to the moments before the rocks had been thrown at you, enamoured by how intricately made the wooden bunny was.

And then blank. You couldn’t recall anything after that. Like it never happened. Seeming swallowed into a blackhole, making no sign of ever returning.

You faintly remember a dream, but after the first day of waking up it had been pushed to the furthest corner of your mind, Taehyung’s death taking up most of your thoughts. And whenever you try and think back to it now, you can only seem to remember how fresh the air had felt, and the soft scratching of golden grass on the backs of your hands as you wandered into the horizon. The sky a bright blue that otherwise hurt your eyes, a dull pain in the back of your head that would return when you would think too hard about what may have happened in your dream.

Nothing adds up.

It had been winter the day you’d gone down to the village with Taehyung, you were sure of that, you remembered how soft the scarf was Taehyung had gifted you, a gift for your first winter spent with himself and Jungkook. And if what Jungkook had said was correct; that you’d been passed out for only a few weeks, then there was no way it should have been that far into the spring once you’d woken up. Flowers in full bloom, sun not shying behind the clouds throughout the day.

But why would Jungkook lie?

Your fingers gently brush over your cheek, contemplating whether it was possible for such a deep gash to heal in such a short amount of time, with no evidence left behind. No scar, no tender tissue or discoloration. You’d woken up like nothing had happened. Maybe that was common? But as a child such a deep wound would take months to fully heal.

He wouldn’t lie, would he?

You fall onto your back, mattress cushioning your fall. Your head turns towards the door of the inn room, Jungkook’s large backpack coming into view.

Maybe he kept a diary like Taehyung did?

Jungkook had gone out for a walk that morning, whispering to you while you battled between staying asleep or finally waking up, sun peeking in through the windows, encouraging you to peel your eyes open. You’d hummed and waved him off when he asked if you wanted to join him. And that was less than an hour ago.

He did say he would be gone for a few hours… that would leave you with more than enough time to quickly snoop through his bag and see if he was hiding anything.

You felt a little bad because you knew that looking through people’s stuff was wrong. Really wrong. And you think Jungkook would be disappointed if he ever found out you’d gone and peeped into the bag while he was gone. But, if you wanted to figure out the anomalies in your life, Jungkook may be the perfect place to start.

You don’t know what you would do if you ever found out he was actually lying to you, and that’s why you pause when your fingers make contact with the bag.

What would you do?

Maybe it’s better you never know.

Or maybe Jungkook had done nothing wrong, and you were being paranoid. What if he found out you’d gone through his stuff, and kicked you out of his home? Left you stranded, leaving you to fend for yourself. You both knew that was impossible, your best bet would be to hide in the forests, no one usually ventured into the woodland. Although, you doubted you’d be able to survive of wild berries alone, the thought of having to kill an animal making you feel squeamish.

Then what? You’re back to square one where you die alone, unwanted by another person?

You swallow.

But what if he never found out?  

What if he never found out and you got the answers you were looking for? It would be easy to put everything back in the backpack the way you’d taken it out, and it’s not like he would notice miniscule changes in the packing.

You look at the door, waiting to see if he would walk in. When he doesn’t, you turn back to the backpack, fingers deftly pulling the strings open.

You carefully remove the layer of folded clothes, placing them neatly beside you. Soap, hairbrush, sack of apples, more clothes, a map. (What you fail to notice is his ‘history’ book wasn’t in the confines of his bag, because who would need a book on history when you plan to buy supplies?)

Your shoulders slump forwards when you find nothing. No notebooks, no pieces of paper with anything written on them, nothing. You even look into the pockets, nothing.

With a defeated sigh, you start to pile everything back into the bag, only praying that you were putting them all back in the correct order and hadn’t messed up.

You tie the top of the bag, pushing yourself up off of the floor.

Deciding you’d take a break in your investigation, breakfast sounded really good right around now. So, you skip downstairs with Taehyung’s notebook secured under your arm.

“Morning!” the inn owner calls out to you, smiling as you plop yourself down at one of the bar stools.

“Good morning, do you have some ink and a quill?” you ask, thanking the woman when she tells you she’ll be right back.

Your legs swing back and forth as you wait, peering around the room.

“Do you know where Namjoon is?” you ask when she places the ink in-front of you.

“Said he was going to check on the horses, he already ate so I imagine he wouldn’t be back until lunch time” she replies.

You nod, opening a new page in Taehyung’s notebook.

You flip back one page, checking the latest date, making sure you had the year correct.

Taehyung’s latest entry had been November 1859, written the day before the two of you planned to visit the village. You didn’t read too much of what was written, respecting that it was Taehyung’s private thoughts, although from what you caught a glimpse of, it spoke of the things you both needed to buy in the village.

You supposed if it was already spring then it must be 1860, which further confuses you. Deciding to brush off the suffocating feeling that consumed your body, your tongue pokes out as you figure out exactly what you want to write.

 “1860? That was a while ago wasn’t it… I hadn’t even opened the inn yet. Do you plan to write a novel?” the inn owner asks you.

You look at her with wide eyes, “A while ago?” you ask, confusion heavy in your voice.

She nods, “Yes, I heard novels of recent history are popular these days, with the new king rising to power”

“What year is it now?”

“This year it would be 1865”  

“Right now? It’s 1865?”

She nods, eyebrows furrowing in confusion as you start to flick through the pages of Taehyung’s diary.

“Are you okay dear?” she asks.

Your head shoots up to look into her eyes, “Yes!” you slam the notebook shut, “I’ll be back in a minute”

“But my—your breakfast!”

“I’ll come back for it” you call out to her as you sprint up the stairs, lungs squeezing for air as you push open the door to yours and Jungkook’s room.

You fall onto the bed, careful as you pull open Taehyung’s notebook once more.

When you said you had never lied to Jungkook, that was a lie in itself. You learning how to read and write so well was meant to be a surprise. You wanted to show Jungkook how quickly you’d progressed in both skills, how you’d practiced with Taehyung while doing chores, and sometimes you’d dream of studying certain characters that you found difficult.

You did plan to surprise him when you got back to the hanok, maybe by asking if you could read to him before bed, not the other way round.

You flick to Taehyung’s most recent entry once more.

[November 1859;

Tomorrow me and y/n]

Your eyes zero on your own name. That was definitely your name.

If you’d been with them in 1859, how was it currently 1865?

You knew you hadn’t had the best gauge of how much time you’d spent with them but basing it off the seasons it shouldn’t have been more than a year. It definitely hadn’t been a year since Taehyung died. If you’d woken up weeks after the incident, then Taehyung shouldn’t have been dead for more than a month.

Taehyung wouldn’t have written the date wring so many times, would he?

From the few times you’d been in his room it seemed he kept more than one notebook. When you’d first met him and asked what he would write down every other day or so, he had told you about his habit of writing. How he liked to document special moments in his life so he could go back and read about his past in years to come.

How likely was it that he had gotten the years wrong all this time?

Taehyung was quite a meticulous person, not the type of person to guess a date and go with it. He was particular about small details like that.

You chew on the nail of your thumb, but why would Jungkook lie?

Say it hadn’t been weeks, and it had actually been years.

How were you alive? Without food or water surely, you would have died. If it had been 6 years, then how come you hadn’t aged at all?

That would explain how the wounds you had gotten from the village boys would have fully healed, but nothing else made sense.

You slam Taehyung’s notebook shut when the room door opens. Your heartrate speeding up as Jungkook saunters into the room. You look at him with wide eyes, swallowing thickly as he roves his eyes over your body.

You see his eyes slightly narrow, as if trying to gauge what you were doing before he came into the room.

“What were you going?” he finally asks, eyes trained on the notebook tightly clasped by your fingers, his own tightening on the woven bag in his hands.

You stay silent for a moment, mind racing a mile a minute as you try to find a decent lie. Something believable enough that he wouldn’t ask any more questions, because your heart felt seconds away from beating right through your chest with how hard it was pounding against your ribcage.

“Jungkookie?” you eventually say, tone a little sweeter than usual.

He looks up at your face, head cocking to the side in question.

“I have a request”

“Only if you answer my question” he prods, clearly unsatisfied with turn of conversation.

“It is about that actually” you look down at your lap, fingers fiddling with the hem of your shirt, “I was looking through Tae’s list, and he says the royal palace is really beautiful”

Jungkook is silent for a moment, and you keep your eyes trained in your lap, scared that if you were to look into his eyes, you would spill everything you had discovered within the last hour.

“Is that all?” he eventually asks, easy smile on his face; because you were just too adorable. Of course he would take you sight-seeing if that’s what you really wanted, nothing to be embarrassed about.

You nod, breathing a sigh of relief when he agrees.

“Let me just put this stuff away” he says, “Then we can leave”

You watch him pull the book he had purchased the day prior from a woven bag, your eyes narrowing when there is nothing written on the cover of it.

“Jungkook?” you ask, he hums, not turning towards you as he tries to shove it further inside the bag, “Is that history book interesting? I think I want to try reading harder books now, not just children’s poems.”  

Jungkook pauses, eyes meeting yours briefly before he turns to the backpack once more.

“I don’t think you’d like this one, love. The vocabulary is hard, even for me” he explains.

You hum in understanding, deciding it was best not to prod any further.

“Ready to go?” Jungkook stands up, hand stretching out to help pull you up from the bed.

“Yeah, I still have to eat breakfast before we go”

Jungkook sniggers at that, nudging your shoulder as he tells you how breakfast is the most important meal of the day and that it was closer to lunch time now than it was breakfast.

You shrug, explaining that even breakfast can be eaten at lunch sometimes.

+++

How well did you truly know Jeon Jungkook? Why had it taken you so long to ask this question?

You knew it was because he was the closest person you would get in this life that would always be a constant. He liked you, he couldn’t die, so why would he leave you? Just like yourself he had no one else in this world. And maybe you were cowardice, projecting your own insecurities and fears onto him, but it was true was it not?

Loneliness was simultaneously the best and worst thing that could happen to a human. It was a valid fear, as humans were social creatures that overall worked better as a team than in solitude. Two pairs of hands are always going to be better than one and being able to confide in another person should be second nature, because no one should have to deal with their pain alone when they had so many that cared for them.

Loneliness however can force you to learn to love your own company. If there is no one else around, you can only rely on yourself. And at the end of the day, you are the only constant in your life. Forced to fend for yourself, live for you, and you only.

But that scared you, what was living if it wasn’t for other people? Forced to marinate in your own thoughts, figure out your own feelings and live just because you want to or feel obligated to because you were given life so maybe you should live it out for a while.

Unless you’re Jeon Jungkook. He never seemed alone.

You believed that you would stay with him for a long time, because he had nowhere else to go just like yourself. And wherever he went, you think you would follow, because you were scared of being alone. Scared of the solitude that some found comfort in.

But why would you blindly follow him? Because he was kind enough to house you? Feed you? Put a roof over your head and help you develop skills that otherwise you would have no resources to do so? Even if he had been lying to you, deceiving you even.

If Jeon Jungkook was a colour, he would be grey. Muted, his character unimposing until you peel back the layers upon layers that he shields his being with only to find black. Onyx. A dark plain that can only be described as Jeon Jungkook, the ghost of a hand pulling you into his warm embrace until you settle down and thin sticky vines trap you beside him with no escape, remaining by his side for the rest of his eternal life.

Even with a small crack in what is Jeon Jungkook, a lie exposed to you, you chose not to say anything.

Why?

Because he’s familiar, and you’re scared of being alone.

Why would you willingly fall headfirst into a spiral of solitude when you could remain by his side, acting oblivious as he plays you like a puppet. Chipping away at your very being until you’re too warn down, leaning on him for support like he had planned from the start. He’s never hurt you, his caress gentle, and words sweeter than fresh honey or sugar cane. Blindly guiding you further into his abyss, steps away from the point of no return.

But you’re okay with that. Willingly holding onto him like he holds onto you, like the two of you are the only two left in the world, needing nothing more than each other to survive.

Now you find yourself at a crossroad. Why walk down the path of loneliness when you could walk down the path towards Jungkook, who happily waits for you at the end of the road with his arms wide open? It seemed obvious which path you would choose. And maybe you were spineless, allowing someone you barely knew to swing you around like a doll on some strings instead of facing your fears.

Maybe Jungkook was scared of being alone too. You’d never considered living an eternal life, simply living day to day hoping you’ll wake up tomorrow. But you worry how lonely he would feel if you were to ever leave him, a twinge of empathy flaring up at just the thought of it. Left to live alone for the rest of time. If you could live together, without the fear of desolation… walking the ways of life hand in hand with no one but each other.

And that’s why as you shut the book stuffed away inside the lower depth of Jungkook’s bag, you say nothing. Washing away what you had read from your mind, smiling happily when the demon re-enters the room, freshly washed, looking like the epitome of ethereal as he flops onto the bed, beckoning you to come over with a kiss to your cheeks, his own flushed the prettiest shade of dusty rosy, pink.

You knew which path you would be taking.

#bts #jungkook x reader #jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #reincarnation #bts jungkook #bts fic #bts jungguk #jungguk x reader #bts angst #bts fanfic #jungkook fluff #jungkook smut #jungkook jeon #jungkook imagine #jungkook x you #taehyung #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #taehyung fluff #ot7 imagine #namjoon fanfic #seokjin #seokjin fic #yoongi fanfic #hoseok imagine #yandere jungkook

[spiesareforeverobsessed]

Twisted and Turned Chapter 2: What Lies in the Aftermath

This is another old fic that I am transferring to this account but this one is a multi chapter fic and I hope to continue. Again I am not sure if I posted this just to ao3 or also to tumblr, but it is mine. Enjoy!

Trigger Warnings: Arguments, Angst, Major Character "Death", Canon Typical Violence, Guns

Story Summary: Owen survives the fall and is brought home but after an argument over what happened Curt is sent on a mission he doesn't come back from, leaving Owen guilty and devastated. But are things really as they seem? A Spies are Forever role reversal au that is hopefully different enough from the show to still be interesting.

Chapter Summary: The aftermath of the death of one Agent Curt Mega.

Chapter 1

Normally Owen Carvour would be delighted to take a trip to the United States, that wasn’t the case this time.

That was of course understandable, as he was currently standing in front of the grave of the person who caused that delight. As he stared down at the headstone he couldn’t help thinking Curt would hate it. It was so plain. So boring. A grey slab with only his name and date of birth and death carved into it in a typical font. There was no personality to it. It didn’t represent his late lover at all. 

Owen held back his tears as he laid a bouquet, strikingly similar to the one meant for Curt that was now wilting in his flat back home, down in front of the cold slab. The funeral had been a few days ago. Owen could barely recall it. Had no recollection of what was said. He had sat numbly beside Curt’s mother. Somewhere deep down he wished to reach out to the devastated woman to comfort her but he just couldn’t. What could he possibly do or say to ease her pain? He knew nothing could ease his. 

The drive to the graveyard had been the worst of his life, including all the times he had driven away with people shooting at the car. The events in the graveyard had been even worse. Despite logically knowing the coffin was empty, due to the hostilities between their countries and the one the mission had taken place in they couldn’t even go retrieve Curt’s body, his heart had screamed in protest as it was lowered into the ground. He just wanted to crawl into it and be lowered down too. 

Given all the people around he hadn’t been able to say a proper goodbye to Curt then, hence why he was back today. 

“Hi Curt. I….I’m not sure if you can hear me right now. But I really hope you can because there are some things I need you to hear that I should have told you before…..before this.” He paused for a moment, taking in a shaky breath. “First off I hope you know that I love you. I love you so fucking much. More than I have ever loved anything or anyone else in this world. I am so sorry I didn’t say that enough. I am so sorry for what I did say the last time we spoke. I was just so angry and scared...but that’s no excuse. Just like I have no excuse for not coming to see you after to apologize. And not calling you when I got back home. And…” 

Owen choked up and a few tears slipped out as he continued. “And I’m so sorry for not taking the mission. Maybe if I had I could have saved you. Maybe there was nothing I could have done but even then I would have been there with you at the end like I should have been. Doing everything in my power to keep you safe. And I wouldn’t have to question whether or not you knew how much I cared for you when you left this world.”

Owen stopped again. “I don’t know how I am going to go on without you. I’ll never have another partner like you. Another friend like you. Another lover like you. You brought so much joy and light to my life and now that you are gone I can only see a murky grey future. I’ll find a way though. For you. To keep going. To live a life worthy of you. And then someday….someday when my time comes I hope you will still be waiting for me on the other side. Please wait for me, love.” 

The tears streamed down faster now, only to be interrupted by a beep from his watch signaling his flight home was fast approaching. He had only been able to take a few days off, any more might have seemed suspicious. “I have to go now Curt, but I will try to come back sometime and you’ll be in my thoughts always. Rest in peace, love, I’ll see you on the other side. I love you.” 

He walked away from the grave, knowing he had left a large chunk of his heart behind. 

Cynthia Houston had never broken that unspoken golden rule of being the Director of The A.S.S., don’t get emotionally attached to your agents, before Curtis Mega had come along. 

Then again she supposed Curt had been the exception to many rules over the years, so why would that one be any different? She hadn’t been able to help it. Ever since that day in his first few months with the agency that he had shown up to go on a mission sick as fuck, throwing up blood and all sorts of other symptoms that should see him heading for a hospital, and refused to go home. Said the mission was more important. She ended up dragging him back to her house and forcibly caring for him with Susan’s help. She had soon got her Agent fighting fit again but he had somehow wormed his way into her notoriously hardened heart. 

She had never really regretted that until right now. That heart of stone was cracking. She had to pretend it wasn’t as she sat at her desk, on the phone with Mi-6 Agent Carson, who had been brought in to tell her exactly what had happened to the agent she thought of as a son. 

“We had found the targets and were completing our objectives when we were made. We managed to take out all of the targets but were pursued by their guards. We split up to escape them, planning to meet at the entrance to the compound. When I got there Agent Mega…” The British agent paused, clearly trying to collect himself. “Agent Mega had been shot in the leg and the chest. He was dead. I tried to take his body with me but they were gaining on me and I had to leave him behind. As I was driving away, the building exploded. I didn’t do that so I can only assume they did to cover up some sort of evidence they would have left behind.” Cynthia hid her sadness and rage behind a professional gaze. She didn’t even know who had killed him. Who she should be going after. “You’re certain he was dead?” She already knew the answer but had to ask. “The shot was straight to his heart and he had no pulse. He was dead. I’m sorry I didn’t see who did it.” Cynthia nodded to herself before speaking again. 

“Thank you for your time Agent Carson. I’ll contact you again if I have any more questions.” She stated with finality. “Of Course, Director Houston. I am sorry for your loss. He was a good Agent.” Cynthia hung up. A good agent. Certainly he was, but he was also much more than that. If only she had listened to her gut and not sent him on that mission...

She felt tears stinging her eyes and wiped them away. She refused to cry again. Especially not at work. She had a reputation to maintain. 

Despite saying this to herself a few tears slipped down her face as she added ‘Killed in Action’ to Curt’s file. 

“This should be more than easy, even for you.”

That’s what Cynthia had said about this mission and to be fair to her, she was right, until it all went wrong anyway. 

They had broken in, no problem. Located the targets, no problem. Curt had shot his first target, no problem. Agent Carson had shot his first target, no problem. Curt had shot his second target, no problem. Agent Carson had shot his second target, problem. Major Problem. 

To be entirely fair to the British agent, it wasn’t his fault. The target just so happened to move at the last second when he’d already fired his kill shot. As a result the target was still hit but not immediately killed. Curt quickly tried to cover but it was too late. By the time he had buried a bullet in her skull she had already screamed, alerting the guards who had been standing outside the door as their charges discussed deals with each other.

It didn’t take them long to realize where the shots must have been fired from and they were soon headed right for him and Agent Carson.

Curt had been the one to suggest splitting up. Confusing the guards. They would meet at the entrance of the facility. Agent Carson had agreed. Curt had practically flown through the facility, not knowing how close the guards were. He moved as silent as possible so he would hear their approach. He almost sighed with relief as he reached the entrance.

Agent Carson had yet to show so Curt hid and waited. A few minutes later the other Agent ran in. Curt was just coming out of his hiding spot to greet him when he saw a guard enter behind Agent Carson and begin to take aim. Curt ran forward and tackled Carson to the ground, taking a shot in the leg as he did so. He raised his own gun and shot the guard from the ground. He couldn’t get up on his own and waited for the British agent to assist him.

Agent Carson had other plans. 

Curt found his gun kicked away from him. He reached for his spare only to have his hand shot, his watch being destroyed along with it. “What are you doing?” He questioned. “I’m sorry. We’ll be too slow. We’ll never make it across the grounds to the car in time with me supporting you. They’re too close.” 

Curt was about to shout at him when a gun pointed at him shocked him into silence. “This is for the best. If they catch you, who knows what they would do? This is mercy.” Agent Carson spoke as he took aim at Curt’s heart. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?” Curt hissed out. 

He didn’t receive and answer, only a shot to the chest that sent him careening back. 

Agent Carson took a step towards him only to hear the footsteps of the approaching guards and quickly run off, heading straight for their getaway car. 

Back inside Curt Mega, lying flat on his back now, opened his eyes. “Guess Cynthia had a point pestering me about wearing a bulletproof vest all these years.” He mumbled to himself. His chest hurt like a bitch but he was alive. However with the guards minutes away at most, no way of escaping, no way of contacting anyone, and no chance of beating all the guards in his position he actually agreed with Agent Carson. Death would be a mercy. If only he could take out some of these bastards with him. 

That’s when he saw them. Four large propane tanks. He could see them through the little window in the door to the room next to him. At this level those tanks exploding should take down the second floor too. Collapse the whole build. 

Curt struggled and crawled until he reached his kicked gun and got out his spare as well with some difficulty. He crawled to the spot in the room with the most cover he could get to. He took a deep breath and raised both arms with all the strength he could muster. He shot. The window broke. He fired every bullet he had into those propane tanks until he was rewarded with a resounding boom. 

One tank exploded and set off a chain reaction taking out the others with the force of a bomb, the last Curt remembered as he tried to duck away was a searing, burning pain washing over his back.

Curt Mega blinked open his eyes, squinting in the harsh light of an unfamiliar hospital room. 

He felt sluggish and could tell he was on heavy pain medication and yet he was still in agony. He could barely move. He lifted his head just a little and called out. “Hello? Anyone?” A doctor soon entered the room, smiling at him. “Good to see you are awake Agent Mega.” He tried to nod but winced. “Are you with A.S.S.?” He guessed. They couldn’t be MI-6. No way Agent Carson sent someone after him. And the doctor’s accent had sounded American. “Not exactly.” The doctor replied. Curt froze. He resisted the urge to sob. All that effort and he had ended up in the hands of the enemy anyway. “I am not your enemy Agent Mega. In fact right now, I might be your only friend.” 

Curt raised an eyebrow, taking note of the fact that he must have spoken aloud. He could almost hear Owen scolding him to be more careful. Owen. He cut himself off before he could go down that road, focusing back on the doctor. “My friend. Really? My only friend?” The doctor nodded. “Well considering your agency abandoned you and the organization I work for saved you I would say yes. We’re certainly more your friends than the American Secret Service.” 

His agency abandoned him? No, that couldn’t be right. Cynthia wouldn’t…..Curt pushed that aside for now as he also took note of the fact that these people knew who he worked for. That was a question for later though as there was a far more pressing one to ask right now. “And just who do you work for?” He asked, not truly expecting the enemy to give him an answer. Thus he was quite surprised when the doctor turned and gave him a wide smile before speaking.

“We’ve been called many things by many different people Agent Mega, but we like to call ourselves Chimera.”

#spies are forever #my fic #curtwen #role reversal au

[aminiatureworld]

Old Faces

Characters: Albedo, Xiao, Zhongli, gn!reader

Word Count: 2,151

Warnings: None

Premise: In which the reader runs into their ex

Author’s Note: Did something a little different by changing which character perspective it was for different prompts. I found it a good way to explore this particular prompt.

Albedo

The moment Albedo walked out of his office door he felt his stomach sink a bit.

Though the alchemist liked to think that he was a man of perfect rationality, whether by nature or by will, he couldn’t help but feel a knot in his stomach as he watched you talking to your ex.

Albedo knew that things hadn’t ended well in your last relationship, knew that there had been a lot of shouting and crying done by both parties, all culminating in you getting kicked out of your shared apartment. You didn’t like to talk about it even now, focusing on your relationship with Albedo instead of dwelling on the past. If any reminder of your ex ever surfaced you usually glared it before moving on.

That knowledge made your evidently awkward conversation all the worse. As you leaned against one of the beams which held up the alchemy front, seemingly distancing yourself as much as possible from the person in front of you, Albedo felt a sudden urge to run and wedge himself between the two of you. OF course he would never act upon something so unhelpful, but the alchemist was finding more and more that he’d be seized by illogical wishes the more he opened himself up to you.

Now he curbed his thoughts and made his way over, planting himself firmly next to you and not bothering to introduce himself beyond a curt nod. Not as if he needed an introduction anyways, as Albedo had run into your former partner a few times before, and the icy coldness between him and them was completely natural, at least on Albedo’s part.

“Ah Albedo!” You turned, smiling brightening for a moment. Placing a quick kiss on the alchemist’s cheek, something which caused warmth to immediately flood his face, you turned back towards your ex. “I’m sure you know about my partner, this is Albedo.”

“So you’ve been screwing around with this runt,” you ex shook his head as if disgusted. Narrowing his eyes, Albedo felt irritation wash over him, and for a moment he wondered if there was a potion that might indispose your ex for at least a week that could be easily hidden.

“Yes I’m currently in a relationship with him,” you replied, ignoring your ex’s jeer. “Not that it’s any of your business.”

“None of my business? Don’t I have the right to be worried for you?”

“Oh please,” you snorted. “If you really worried about me you wouldn’t have kicked me out. Now if you please I have something to do. I’m very glad to hear that you’re well and getting your life on track and everything, but in truth I think this is really awkward, so could you please give me at least a head’s up next time.”

“You’re still think you’re better than everyone,” your ex spat.

“No, they don’t.” Albedo heard himself say, finding himself more and more irritated by this conversation. “But though they would never admit it, they are certainly better than you. I suggest you listen to their warnings, otherwise there are a few elixirs that could certainly use a human test subject.”

Your ex’s face paled, and they let out a curse before turning away. Suddenly feeling very depleted of energy Albedo sighed.

“Hey, thanks for that.”

“Of course,” Albedo looked up at you. “You seemed uncomfortable.”

“I was,” you admitted. “They weren’t really listening to me, so thank you.”

Leaning over to kiss Albedo once more you stopped in surprise as your partner tilted his head so that your lips met his, instead of the cheek you were aiming for. Pulling back Albedo looked at the ground.

“Sorry, I realize that wasn’t what you were planning.”

“I don’t mind!” Your reply came fast. “I’m just surprised. You okay?”

“Of course I’m alright,” Albedo looked at you. “You should be more worried about yourself.”

“Why shouldn’t I be also worried about you?” You tilted your head. “I know that you don’t really like conflict. And I’m sure that was awkward for you as well.”

Albedo said nothing in reply, merely leaning over to kiss you gently on the forehead. You were so quick to notice things sometimes he couldn’t fathom it.

As the afternoon drifted on Albedo found himself once more thinking about how wonderful you were. There was no one in the world like you, no one nearly so precious to him, so worthy of love. If this was beyond the intelligence of a shadow of the past, well, what did it matter.

  Xiao

“Why don’t you just go back to them?”

You stared at your partner, surprised by the words that had just come out of his mouth. All day Xiao had been as prickly as a cactus, even more standoffish than usual, and all day you’d been trying to coax some words out of the silent yaksha who had taken to standing next to you all day. Now you wondered if that hadn’t been a mistake.

“What do you mean?” You felt your voice waver slightly. “Xiao why are you telling me to go back to my ex?”

You had run into a former significant other of yours at the Inn a day ago, as they had taken up a carpentry contract for the rotting bits of stairwell that made the Inn so difficult to manage sometimes. Though you two had long since been finished, the split had been amicable, and at the time it had felt nostalgic to simply chat with an old friend, a memory of an earlier part of your life when everything had been so different.

Though you were certainly aware that Xiao might have been watching, a suspicion confirmed by the adeptus’ questions that evening, you had never thought much of it. Sure it was your former partner, but it was too long ago to even think about now. You had been a dumb kid then, and though you might not be infallible now, you were certainly different. Standing across from your partner now you realized that not everyone appeared to hold the same opinon.

“Xiao, I know that I was talking to my ex yesterday, but just because I was doing so doesn’t mean I don’t love you or care about you. That was a very long time ago for me, if not for you, and I don’t see in them a partner anyone, I haven’t for years. I understand if you might not feel the same way regarding the timeframe, but there’s no reason to, well, I don’t know what you’re doing right now.”

You stared at your partner, who appeared to be glaring at the railing right next to your hand. You loved Xiao, despite all the rumors that often circulated him and the rest of the adepti. You also knew that Xiao had an incredibly fine-tuned sense of justice and logic. He normally wouldn’t hurl something at you like a challenge. Though he wasn’t perhaps the most well-versed in the ordinary lives of humans, you would hardly call him oblivious to human customs. Partner’s weren’t always partner’s for life. Why then was Xiao acting so cagey?

Now you partner let out a small “hmph!” Shifting himself so he was facing the outside, he stared out at the inky night of Liyue. His cheeks were warmed by the flickering candles of the Inn, and in that moment he seemed oddly vulnerable.

“Xiao,” you ventured. “Is something wrong, are you, are you still uneasy about yesterday.”

For a moment Xiao said nothing, and your heart began to sink. As you turned to walk away however you heard the soft tones of your partner’s voice.

“Would you be happier with them?”

“No,” the answer came automatic and true, “though I may have been their partner once, now they’re merely a friend. There is no one like you to me Xiao, there never will be; I realized that a while ago. Even if you worry about your karma or you lack of knowledge or whatever you shouldn’t worry that I’ll ever leave you.”

You quickly found yourself enveloped in your partner’s embrace. Letting a small sigh of relief pass your lips you returned the embrace fiercely. Feeling the arms around you tighten ever so slightly you found the strangest urge to laugh. Maybe because it was so silly, the idea that you would ever leave your partner. Though it was sad that he would never know how deeply those feelings ran.

“I’ll never go back to anyone but you,” you murmured.

 Zhongli

The first thing Zhongli thought was that you two looked so right together.

Though the ex-archon did not like to admit it, the doubts that he had had at the beginning of the relationship still plagued him. Not the doubts about his love for you, oh no he could never doubt such a thing not if all the stars went out. No, his doubts lay in himself, in who he was. Perhaps it was wrong of him to still linger on his impending immortality, something that you assured him you had come to terms with. It felt disrespectful towards your decision to continuously feel this way. Yet standing at the door of the Funeral Parlor, watching as you chatted with your former partner, Zhongli could not help but feel the familiar pain.

The walk home was spent in a bit of a fog, as Zhongli half-listened to you discuss your day. Normally he found everything about you fascinating, and the things your job put you through were no different. This time though the words trickled off his back like water off a duck’s wings, the image of your and your “ex”, as you called it, pressing down upon him.

“My love?” He found himself saying, not realizing he had made up the decision to ask you something. You paused your conversation, titling your head slightly.

“Is something wrong?”

“No.” It was a lie perhaps, but an understandable one. “I just wished to comment upon the fact that I saw you with your former significant other. I hope that all was well with them.”

“They’re fine,” you replied. “Doing great actually, if what they say is true. Then again then were always prone to lying.” You let out a small laugh.

“Do you miss them?” Zhongli found he could not contain his questions today.

“No, not really. To be honest, talking to them kinda sucked. They sort of half-ghosted me back in the day, and even though you have to keep up appearances and all, I mean I can’t take them to task now, it still hurt.”

“I am sorry to hear that.”

“Oh don’t be!” You shook your head. “I’m perfectly happy where I am now. Even if that whole debacle sucked, it’s worth it if it let this happen.”

The both of you glanced down at you intertwined hands. The image was so perfect in Zhongli’s mind that for a moment all his worries went away, and the golden sun seemed to brighten just a little bit.

Later that evening however Zhongli once more found himself thinking about it. He really had been shaken by you talking with your former partner. Even if they were not the right one, they were still human. Did that not make things easier for you? Happier for you? Zhongli thought back at your hands. How fast would they age in his mind, how fast would you notice how frozen Zhongli was. As if he was carved from rock, the ex-archon could only be eroded slowly. He could not grow old with you.

“My darling?” Zhongli murmured. It was dark and the two of you were in bed. Limbs tangled together, heads nestled close, Zhongli felt as if he could ask what he so feared.

“Yes?” Your voice was heavy with sleep.

“Do you ever regret falling in love with me?”

“No,” your murmured. “I know that you might not believe me, or you might not stop worrying, but you should. I love only you, my dear. I always will. Death will not change how much I love you.”

Zhongli pondered these words as your breathing evened and you slipped off into dreams. How could you say such a thing so nonchalantly, how could you be so sure? Then again, humans always seemed to be more confident in their decisions than those who had been given immortality.

Though the ex-archon wasn’t always fond of sleep, Zhongli felt himself begin to slip away. In the in between of awake and asleep everything seemed painted over, made simple by the logic of one half-dreaming. He would never be rid of these feelings. Perhaps then he should rely on yours. He relied on your for so much already.

Kissing your cheek before finally being dragged into sleep the last coherent thought Zhongli was aware of was that he loved you so very much.

#genshin impact fanfiction #albedo x reader #xiao x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact #genshin albedo #genshin xiao #genshin zhongli #requested #scenarios #my writing

[anne-i-write]

moriarty the patriot headcannons

| requested by anon: can you write headcanons for moriarty brothers meeting and having dinner with s/o's parents for the first time? and s/o's father is overprotective. thanks 🤍🙆🏻 |

william x reader; louis x reader; albert x reader

word count: 1857

tw: mentions of toxic behavior in albert’s hcs

a/n: IM BACK AND THRIVING BBS!!! it’s so good to be back again to writing!!! hhh i’m so sorry if this is far from what you wanted but i hope you all enjoy it nonetheless!!!! lowkey went off the railings w this one so 👀 also if i missed any tags, please let me know!!!!!

william: 803 words

it had been you and your father since you were younger bc your mom was the “lucky” choice of some noble

but you wouldn’t have it any other way

you two are very close and everyone in the town knows

that, and that you both hate nobles

so it’s no surprise when the moriartys move into town, you’re both less than pleased

you always try your best to avoid them whenever they come into your town and your father always begs his friends to take the nobles as customers, despite the fact it could be good for business

but the town you lived in was particularly small and you did end up bumping into william

literally

some stupid man didn’t see you crossing the road and you were nearly crushed by the carriage if it hadn’t been for the hand that pulled at your wrist

“i swear people these days don’t know how to drive carriages.”

you don’t know who you were expecting

BUT ANYONE BUT A NOBLE

“are you alright?”

“i’m fine thank you—“

you’re absolutely flustered

how did i not know that this was a noble??? he smells so clean!

“i’ve got to be on my way now!” and you left william there with no explanation

but lil did you know he actually knew who you were

or to an extent, you weren’t as sneaky as you’d hoped you’d be

he saw you hiding in corners and alleyways every time you two accidentally made eye contact

and some of the townsfolk actually told him a little about you and your father so he understood why you weren’t too welcoming

but to take great lengths to avoid him??? he is very intrigued

so he starts off small, trying to send you a kind smile before you dart off behind a fruit stall

he really tries his best to get close to you and after a few weeks (and a few persuasive friends), he finally gets to hold a conversation with you

and boy does he fall FAST

it takes a while but you finally reciprocate his feelings and he thinks its smooth sailing from there right???

lmao everyone knows your father is literally the most intimidating looking man that could ever walk the earth

if they didn’t know him personally, they would be afraid of getting curb stomped 🤠

i mean,, he’s a big softie but god forbid anyone even DARES to look at you in a romantic light

you warn william of this and he’s like “don’t worry love, it shouldn’t be too bad”

it is bad

even william has cold hands bc your father is giving him the dirtiest look

dinner isn’t even dinner it’s a grill with how much questions your father is asking him

it does NOT help that he’s a noble

“so,,, you’re a noble”

“your cooking is amazing sir”

your father leaves the table for a little bit and you can hear the quiet sigh of relief from william

“i’m sorry for my father”

“no, no,,, i just,,, your father’s really intimidating, isn’t he?”

you let out a chuckle and william relaxed, a soft smile gracing his lips

“he can be, but it’s just something he does.” you threw a wistful gaze at the door your father disappeared before.

“he’s just worried about you, i can see it. he doesn’t want you around people like me.” you grabbed his hand over the table and he gently squeezed your hand.

“if anything, if he’d give you a chance, he’d want me to be with you. noble or not”

you both continue to have a delightful conversation, your sweet laughs filling the room

however, you didn’t know your father was listening in on your conversation and he couldn’t agree more with william

your mother left with more than just a curt goodbye and unshed tears

she left you with a tear stained letter filled with sorrowful regrets and sincere apologies

he knew you would eventually grow up to be critical of the world and if you were to find out that your mother had left unwillingly, he was afraid that you would be too bitter towards the world

but as he hears your laugh and his worries are dulled down a little

he sees you smiling so happily at william and when he chances a glance at the noble beside you, his worries are completely erased

william’s looking at you the same way everyone swore he looked at your mother

it’s a gentle gaze filled with love and kindness, one that he knew could protect you and take care of you

your father hated nobles and hovered over you when it came to love

but he couldn’t help but hold back on questions when he came back and you instantly noticed that your father took a liking william

louis: 508 words

everyone knew you as “Little Noble” in your town

the sole reason being your father literally treating you like a noble lmao

he gave you the best of everything he could afford and tried his best to not let you do any work

tried

of course, you were a little angel and you HAD to help otherwise you’d cry about making someone else tired when you could’ve easily helped

you’ve carried this trait until your early twenties and there were no signs that you would stop

hence why you were bringing home some fresh fruits from the stall clerk before a man bumps into you

you were so caught off guard that your knee buckled and you fell on your butt

everyone was stunned into silence as you fell but louis was so apologetic

so when he helped you back up, he felt the chilling stares of the town burning into his back

and then you apologize for bumping into him when he was the one who bumped into you and you fell??????

“please, let me make you something! i feel so bad!”

he tries to decline but there was this odd pressure to say yes to you

he ends up going home with you

you’re both in front of the door before your father opens it, his eyes wide

“who is this boy?”

“oh, i didn’t get his name on the way here. what is your name?”

your poor father’s heart is pounding way too fast for his liking

“oh! look at that, thank you so much for bringing my child home! you should be going home now”

he tries to shut the door on louis but you hold it open and beckon louis inside

“i invited him here! i accidentally bumped into him earlier so i offered to make him something!”

louis is so awkward pls

your father reluctantly lets him in but gives him a side eye the whole time he’s in the house

“does your child do this often?”

“why? do you find it strange?”

YOUR FATHER IS SO PASSIVE AGGRESSIVE PLEASE SAVE LOUIS

anyways, you finish making your treat and give it to louis, your father glaring at your interaction

louis is still a little stiff but the more you talk to him, his guard is let down a little

soon enough he has to leave and you wish him well

he leaves with a wave and a kind smile and you look over at your father who had been scowling since you appeared at the front door

“he is a bit cute, don’t you think father?”

your father sputters, stunned by your bold claim

“y-you’re still too young to think about men like that!”

you laugh and shut the front door, teasing your poor father about finding love while also wondering if you would meet louis again

as you talk with your father behind closed doors, louis smiles to himself as he thinks about the unusual encounter today

surely, if i met them again tomorrow, it would make for a pleasant day

albert: 546 words

he meets your father before he meets you

it was during a ball your parents organized in order to connect with the more prestigious nobles around you

your parents were obsessed with the way your family was viewed and apparently being an earl wasn’t enough

so albert hears about you when your father boasts about how you’re the perfect child who answered to his every beck and call

in all honesty, albert was disgusted

no one deserved to be brought up like that

he casually makes his way into the conversation and your father is seething

“my child is your age, it’s a shame you act like this, i would have thought of you as a prime husband for them”

who is this earl to tell him what to do?

needless to say your father crosses him off of the guest list for the next ball

days go by and your father doesn’t know that you’re currently in town, doing what you can to help the working class as best as you can

it is on one particular day of visiting an orphanage do you run into the eldest moriarty brother

you two exchange polite greetings and you both pause

“your father is the earl, is he not?”

“you are a general of the army, are you not?”

a brief mention of your father and your mood dulls slightly

“yes, but i’m here on my own accord”

he would kill you if he found out you were amongst the “filth” as he called them

“well, i’ve brought books for the children, would you like to help me read some to them?”

he seemed sincere enough to not want anything more from you, so you agreed

he was actually very pleasant to be around and you find yourself enjoying his company

the meetups continued to happen and soon enough, albert finds himself standing in front of the doors to your family estate

your father is not pleased at all

“it’s nice to meet you again, sir”

“i didn’t forget about what you said to me at our first meeting”

and you’re sitting there like,, ????? they’ve met??? and your father doesn’t like albert???????

of course, inviting albert to your home would have repercussions but you didn’t expect your father to be so hostile

he was always hostile towards other nobles unless they were of higher importance than him

but for him to hate albert so quickly and openly??? this was quite new

you had mentioned that your father has always been one for power so it was clear to albert that you obviously grew up in a home that was more,,, toxic than protective

it was at dinner that this behavior reached its peak and albert despised the atmosphere and the way your father treated you

“i’ve come here to ask for your child’s hand in marriage”

your father rejects the idea without any hesitation

“i refuse to have them live the rest of their life in your household when they could do so much better”

when you invited albert that night, you knew there would be repercussions with your father

but what you didn’t expect was that you would leave your father and adopt the moriarty name as your own, the family welcoming you with open arms

moriarty the patriot taglist: @zoehanji

#moriarty the patriot #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty x reader #albert james moriarty #william james moriarty #william james moriarty x reader #louis james moriarty #louis james moriarty x reader

[goldentournesol]

Be Careful What You Wish For

(Spencer Reid x Reader)

The one where Spencer gets exactly what he wished for, but it isn’t necessarily for the best.

Length: 5k 

A/N: this is based off of maybe one of the best requests i have ever received, thank you so much anon, your request really got my creative juices going! also i combined this request with another one, too <3 (angst, just straight up, with happy ending tho)

masterlist

The sun was shining against the glass windows of the car. The sunset was so beautiful with its melting and merging colors, Y/N wished it lasted longer so she could watch it. It’d been feeling like beautiful moments were few and far between lately. 

No one ever said being in a relationship was easy, but she’d never expected to drift this far from Spencer. She couldn’t exactly place the moment at which the descent of their relationship began, if she was being honest. One day, they’d be happy, smiling, full of love and life. And then the next, waves of darkness and despair would appear. They weren’t even the kinds of waves that would disappear with the shining sun. No, they were there to stay and fuel the storm that continues to rage on. 

Today was one of those days. To be fair, the whole team was struggling, but Spencer had taken Morgan’s departure a little harder than everyone else. It was understandable, of course. Derek was a staple in Spencer’s life for so long. However, for a man who’s seen and been through so many losses, he sure was terrible at dealing with them. Spencer’s tendency to keep things bottled up had definitely been affecting the overall health of their relationship. In fact, it has been the root of a lot of their arguments lately. Y/N just wanted him to let her in, let her help him and she was willing to wait however long it takes. Spencer on the other hand grew more and more snappy, irritable, and private with each passing day.

When they were at work, they tried their best to avoid each other so as to not get on each other’s nerves. Their fights usually didn’t turn into screaming matches, but they both had a track record of saying things they don’t mean. Hurtful things. Turns out profilers are fantastic at rubbing salt into open wounds. 

Ever since they began dating, Spencer took the subway less, opting for car rides with Y/N. Sometimes she’d drop him off, other times they’d spend the rest of the day at each other’s houses. She enjoyed driving him around, at first he was never too picky with the music she played, but later on, his music began to overtake hers. It never bothered her, in fact, she took it as a sign of him being vulnerable and sharing parts of himself.

The days where car rides once filled with joyous singing and laughter were coming to a shocking halt. The silence nowadays was almost always louder than the music they used to play. Even small talk felt like too much of a burden sometimes.

“Should I just drop you off at your place? Or do you wanna come over to mine? I still have some of that lasagna you liked in the fridge.” She asked softly as they slowed down into traffic. Rush hour in DC was never fun.

“No, it’s fine. I’ll just have whatever’s at my place.” Spencer was being curt with his responses. Thus, the warning signs began flashing in her head.

“Are you sure? We can even pick something up from that one grocery store on our way home, something that goes well with the lasagna. I don’t mind cooking today.” She offered, hoping he wouldn’t shut her out like he usually did.

He shook his head, keeping his voice eerily level and his gaze was set on the road in front of him, “I just really wanna be home, Y/N.”

She nodded and whispered, “Okay.”

A short silence ensued as traffic began to thin out. Cars that were stuck bumper to bumper were beginning to move.

“Is this about Derek leaving?” She asked tentatively. He sighed and pursed his lips in response so she continued, “You know he said he was always a phone call away.”

“I don’t want to talk about that.” Spencer said shortly, gazing out the window.

“You never want to talk about anything.” She said defeatedly, the car beginning to move freely on the road.

“Yeah, well maybe that’s true. Or maybe I just don’t want to talk to you.” Spencer spat, clearly growing impatient.

“Fine, don’t talk to me then. But talk to someone, anyone! Hell, talk to Derek himself. Tell him you hate him for leaving or whatever you’re feeling, but don’t take out your anger and unresolved feelings out on me, okay? I don’t deserve that! Everyday I try to get you to talk to me, but it seems like with every little step I take forward, you take two steps back. And it’s exhausting. It is fucking exhausting, Spencer.” She frowned, tears welling up in her eyes but she refused to let them fall.

“I didn’t ask you for that! I didn’t ask for you to be my personal therapist. If I wanted to see a therapist, I would have gone to see one!” Spencer gestured wildly with his hands as he spoke.

“Spencer, in a relationship, we’re supposed to confide in one another. It’s supposed to be comforting. I don’t want to be your therapist, I just want you to talk to me!” She unconsciously began to press on the pedal, perhaps in an attempt to reach a destination quicker. He scoffed, crossing his arms over his chest.

“Relationship? You call this a relationship? We can barely stand to be in the same room together, Y/N.”

“And that’s why we talk it out. No relationship is ever perfect! You should know that, Spencer!” She shrieked, gripping the steering wheel in frustration.

“That’s not true. What I had with Maeve was perfect until it was ruined.” He uttered.

“Maeve?!” She squealed incredulously, “Really?! What you had with Maeve was perfect?! Spencer, what you had wasn’t real like us! You spoke to her over the phone once a week! You wrote to her in letters, where you have time to-to think and to respond! It isn’t like real life, it isn’t like you and me! What we have is real! I-I’ve lived with you, I’ve seen you torn to pieces, I’ve seen you laugh until you cry. That’s the you I fell in love with, not some fantasy I created of you over the phone!” She spoke but the words were garbled between incoming sobs that she was frantically wiping the remnants of off her cheeks. The same sobs she’d tried so hard to suppress. She was barely aware of the words that came out of her mouth.

“If what I had with Maeve wasn’t real, then why do I wish she were the one here with me instead of you?!” Spencer defended, unaware of how sharp his words were or how deeply they’d wounded her.

Her breath hitched in her throat, taking her already blurry vision off of the road in front of her to face him, “What?” She whispered brokenhearted, but the utterance was immediately swallowed by the unmistakable, earsplitting sound of metal clashing violently against metal. They had no choice but to succumb to the inundating darkness that rapidly overtook them both.

***

Spencer woke with a violent start and sat up in his own bed. He sighed in relief when he realized it was just a dream and it was morning again. Turning his head to look at the left side of the bed where she usually slept, he expected to find her there and was taken by surprise when she wasn’t. He rubbed at his face and eyes vigorously before hearing some clattering in the kitchen. With long strides he saw a blurry figure in the kitchen making coffee and walked towards it. 

He sighed in relief, “Hey, there you are. I just had the worst dream.” He huffed as he wrapped his arms around her waist and buried his face in her neck in his half-asleep state.

“Hey, good morning, lovebug.” She smiled and turned around to hug him tightly.

Something felt off. Something wasn’t right.

He’d heard that voice before. He pulled back from the hug and was met by…

It wasn’t Y/N. It was Maeve.

Spencer could barely control his expression as complete bone-stilling shock washed over his entire being, “M-Maeve?”

“Yeah, what’s wrong, honey? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.” She said, a kind smile resting upon her features. If Spencer wasn’t so shocked, he’d probably have laughed at the absurd truth of that statement. Maeve brought her hand up to his forehead, “Are you feeling okay?”

He didn’t even have time to be confused before he jerked back quickly at the touch of her hand, “I-uh, uh...I’m not feeling too g-good. Um...what’s happening?” He mumbled, rubbing at his eyes again, almost like they’d be polished and he’d see more clearly. But when he opened his eyes again, she was still there. Right in front of him. There was no light emitting from behind her, she was totally opaque. It was eerily real.

Her face was full of color and life and she was dressed in one of his cardigans over her own set of matching pajamas. She was moving and...alive. And speaking to him. What is happening right now?

“But y-you’re...how are you here right now? Am I still dreaming? Am I...Maeve, am I dead?” Spencer shook his head in an attempt to wake back up.

She began to laugh and pulled out a chair for him to sit on, and so he did, still staring up at her in disbelief, “No, baby, you’re very much alive. You’re probably just still confused from whatever nightmare you had. Here, have some water.”

“Y-yeah, yeah, confused. Um, what day is it?” Spencer began to pat on his chest to make sure he was solid and alive. 

She looked at him curiously at his strange behavior, “It’s April 5th, 2016.”

April 5th? Derek left the BAU near the end of March. A light bulb went off in his head. 

The BAU! 

They’d have all the answers. He shot up from his seat immediately, “I uh, have to get to work.” Spencer rushed to his bedroom to get dressed. 

As he’s dressing, he spots a picture frame on his bedside table. He knows the picture by heart, it was of him and Y/N in the pumpkin patch last year. He’d had his arms tightly wound around her shoulders and was kissing her cheek. The leaves were the most colorful they’d ever been. He picked it up and almost dropped it immediately like it had burned his skin. It was the same picture. 

But Y/N was nowhere to be seen. In her place was Maeve.

No, no, no. This isn’t right. 

Spencer began to panic as he buttoned up his shirt, he threw on his cardigan and practically flew out the door. In the distance, he could hear Maeve in the background calling out for him to drink his coffee before leaving.

The train ride to work was truly a test of his patience. He couldn’t keep his knee still and checked his watch religiously. After the train stopped, was the first one off and ran as fast as his poor feet could take him. He stopped running when he got to the FBI Headquarters as to not alarm anyone, but raced to the sixth floor anyway.

As he opened the glass doors he searched frantically for any familiar face, “Garcia!” He yelled as he spotted her bright yellow clad figure across the bullpen. He pushed through tired agents and messy desks to get to her. Everything else was the same, the office was just as he remembered it.

“Good morning, boy wonder! How are you today?” She smiled graciously, holding a few files in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other.

“Have you seen Y/N?” He asked impatiently. She pulled her brows together.

“Do you mean Y/N...Y/L/N?” She asked slowly, as if trying to recall her name.

“Yes, of course I mean Y/N Y/L/N. Who else would I be talking about?” Spencer asked, once again losing more of his patience.

“No, I haven’t seen her, to be honest. I don’t see much of the White-Collar Crime division up here unless Hotch asks for them. Why do you need Y/N? Is she okay?” Garcia casually answered, as if her answer hadn’t turned his world--this world--whatever the hell he was experiencing upside down.

“White-Collar crime? No, that can’t be right.” Spencer muttered to himself as his brain raced a million miles a second.

“Reid, is everything alright? Is there a possible case? Should I tell Hotch?” Garcia asked, but Spencer was barely listening.

 He was on his way back to the elevators again, leaving an extremely confused Penelope in his wake. He raced down to the fourth floor, to the White-Collar crime division. As the elevator doors opened, his eyes scanned the crowded floor for her.

“Dr. Reid! It’s nice to see you down here. What can I do for you?” An agent, Agent Seymour, he’s met perhaps once before asked him.

“Hi, yes, I’m um..looking for one of your agents. Agent Y/L/N.” Spencer stuttered, it was weird saying her name so formally. But he had to see it with his own eyes.

“Yes, of course, right this way. I think she just came in.” The agent led him to a desk in the middle of the bullpen and left him, saying that she was probably getting coffee and should be back an second. Spencer looked over her desk and compared it with how her desk at the BAU looked like. Gone were the trinkets and books he’d given her. Gone was the candle she never lit, but kept anyway because she said it smelled like him. It was like staring at a stranger’s desk, so desolate, so...un-special.

“Jeremy, stop. I almost spilled my coffee!” She giggled from behind him. He’d recognize her voice anywhere. He turned to see her and his lungs filled with relief as he spotted her familiar face across the bullpen. There she was, in all her glory. Looking as beautiful as ever. His Y/N. But the relief was ripped away all too suddenly as he watched on. She had her coffee in one hand and the other was swatting a very sheepish looking Jeremy, he assumed.

“I’m sorry, baby. I just missed you.” He spoke, wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to her lips. 

She blushed immediately and shied away, “Jeremy, we’re in the office!” She giggled again and pulled away from him, glancing around the office as if to check if anyone saw the moment of affection. Spencer’s blood boiled before he realized.

She looked so happy. 

So much happier than she ever looked when she was with him. His heart sank to his feet and he felt like he was incapable of lifting it back up to its rightful place in his chest. He wondered if this was the universe’s cruel, cruel way of letting him know just how shitty of a boyfriend he’s really been. Fire of envy festered in the place where his heart used to reside. He wasn’t sure if it was jealousy, resentment, or guilt. 

It all felt so strange. It felt like there was suddenly way too much pressure in his head. Before he could begin to compute the events unfolding before him, he realized she had spotted him at her desk and was now making her way across the bullpen, separating from her Jeremy. Before he could freak out, she was speaking to him. And all he could focus on was the shape of her lips and the faint memory of how they felt pushing against his.

“Dr. Reid! To what do I owe the pleasure of seeing you here?” She asked politely, but Spencer could tell that she was immeasurably confused by his presence, “Does Agent Hotchner need something from the White Collar crimes archives?”

Spencer panicked, “Yes! Um, he does...and um he asked me to ask you s-specifically. That’s why I’m here, heh.” He stammered like the nervous wreck he was and wiped his sweaty palms on the inside of his pockets.

“Okay, that’s no problem. Just tell me the number of the file and I’ll get it for you.” She smiled slightly, setting her cup of coffee down on her desk. At least her coffee order was still the same as it was. 

She disappeared for a few moments after he gave her a random sequence of numbers. Spencer wasn’t even sure how his legs were still capable of holding himself up. When she came back and he got a whiff of her perfume, his body completely stilled. He knows that scent like the back of his hand, he’d given it to her for their first anniversary. The fresh scent nearly sent him into anaphylactic shock. He’d accepted the file and scurried back to the sixth floor without another word, once again leaving a confused woman in his wake.

Spencer collapsed at his desk and rubbed his head like it would somehow fix this. Whatever this was. Everyone around him operated so normally and went about their day while he was seconds away from losing his mind. 

Was he having a schizophrenic scare? Did his symptoms bleed into his 30’s even though they weren’t supposed to? What was this alternate universe where he’d lost the one good thing he’s ever known? How was he supposed to get back? Did he want to go back? What would happen if he did? Would it be fair for Y/N to stick with him when he knew she would be so much happier with someone else? Would he try harder for her? Would he stop shutting her out? Would the woman he loved so dearly ever love him back?

He must not have ever been deserving of her love and the universe was punishing him in the worst way possible. To have her be within arm’s reach but to never be able to hold her. 

Once upon a time, he would have given up anything and everything to be with Maeve, but that was before Y/N. Before she gave him a new life, one he wanted to live. One where waking up wasn’t such a task. One where seeing her smile at him was enough to make him forget about all his worries. But now Y/N looked at him with barely a sliver of recognition. There was no affection or adoration behind those eyes and maybe he deserved that.

But how was this universe expecting him to go on like everything is fine? Like he hadn’t just lost the love of his life? No one else in this warped version of Spencer’s reality was feeling as dejected as Spencer was.

“Reid, are you feeling alright?” The voice of none other than Aaron Hotchner brought him out of his stupor. Spencer had unknowingly been sobbing into his hands for the past few minutes. Hotch was taken aback at the extent of Spencer’s disheveled state.

“H-Hotch, I need to go home. I can’t be here. I’m sorry.” Spencer packed his things and ran out the building before he realized he had nowhere to go. Home wasn’t his home anymore. He couldn’t exactly go back and see his dead girlfriend wandering around his apartment. He couldn’t be at work where Y/N was, so blissfully unaware of the crisis Spencer was in the middle of.

He wandered the streets of DC aimlessly as he tried to reorganize the events in his head and somehow make sense of them. Just a few days ago, he and Y/N had been holding one another on his couch. Sure, they’d been in a rut recently, but they still loved each other. At least that’s what he thought.

He walked and walked, miles on end, keeping his gaze on his feet as he tried to piece bits together. An IQ of 187 and he had absolutely no idea how whatever was happening to him happened. Even the multiple universes theory didn’t have his back. If he was ‘here’, where has ‘here’s’ Spencer gone? 

His feet had taken him to the local park, where he and Y/N used to sit under the stars. He found himself reminiscing the times they were together. He saw himself and Y/N in every couple that passed him by. Exhausted, Spencer took a seat on a patch of grass. He buried his face into his hands and tried to relieve himself of the headache he’d developed. 

“Hey, mister! Watch out!!” He heard a child yell way too loudly.

Groaning at the volume, he looked up to see the vague shape of a spinning baseball increasing in size as it moved closer….closer. Spencer had no time to react before he was knocked out cold by the baseball.

***

The first thing she’d heard was the incessant beeping of...something next to her. After that, she’d heard faint chatter. The voices sounded familiar but she just couldn’t put her finger on it. She whimpered in pain which caught the attention of everyone in the room. The chatter ceased. 

“Y/N? Honey, it’s Pen, can you hear me?” A voice called. She fought to open her eyes.

Why was it so hard to open her eyes? It was like they were glued shut. Why did everything hurt? What is that smell?

She made a small noise of agreement to the voice that called, but could not coordinate herself enough to speak or open her eyes.

“Y/N, darling, you’re in the hospital, okay? You were in a car accident.” She spoke softly. 

But the words weren’t soft at all. Her words had opened up a Pandora’s box of previously suppressed memories. Suddenly it was hard to breathe. It was hard to breathe as she tried to remember the last moments before the fog. She remembered seeing him so angry, eyes so wild. Who is he? So...so close. She whimpered in pain as she fought the fog away. 

Blood.

So much blood. 

Pain.

So much pain.

The others watched as she began to writhe against the hospital bed in discomfort. Her eyes snapped open the second she saw his face in her mind, frantically searching the room for him.

Spencer.

“Sp-Sp--” She began, but couldn’t formulate the rest of the word. Exhausted and defeated by the lack of his presence, she lay back on the bed.

“Hey, hey, calm down. Spencer’s...Spencer’s fine, alright? You can’t see him right now, but you will be able to.” Those words were the last thing she heard before she slipped off into a silent slumber.

Hours later, she awoke again. But this time with enough strength to open her eyes immediately. Her limbs felt like they weighed tons, she could barely lift a finger. The room was empty besides a single chair with a blurry figure seated in it.

“Spencer?” She uttered almost inaudibly and the figure moved.

“Hey there. Sorry, I’m not Spencer.” The figure moved closer and she recognized the blonde sheen.

“JJ.” Y/N croaked with relief, happy to see a friend. JJ promptly gave her some water in a cup and adjusted the bed so that she would be able to swallow it.

“How are you feeling?” She asked, taking the cup from Y/N’s trembling hands.

Y/N shook her head imperceptibly, “Is...Spence--is he?” Y/N barely got to finish her thought before the tears settled in.

“No, gosh, no. He’s alive. Thankfully, you both made it out alive.” JJ said with relief, leaning her elbows against the side of her bed. Y/N felt her breathing get easier as she learned of the news. She blinked hard, trying to control the tears, but they just flowed out.

“It’s my fault, JJ.” she paused to take a deep breath and JJ took one of her hands in hers, “I was the one driving. I should have been more careful. I-I was so mad.” She sobbed, the tears escaping.

“Hey, no, it’s alright now. Okay, you’ve both made it out alive, that’s what’s important.” JJ rubbed Y/N’s knuckles.

“W-where is he? I need to see him.” Y/N attempted to sit up but winced from the sharp pain in her side.

“Um..yeah, about that. You can’t really get up yet. You’ve got three broken ribs, a broken leg, and a severe concussion.” JJ delivered the news and Y/N’s tears seemed to flow even harder.

Before she could respond, Hotch, Penelope, and a nurse walked into the room, “Oh, sunshine! It’s so good to see you awake!” Penelope squealed and kissed her wet cheek gently before wiping away her tears. The nurse checked all her vitals and gave her some extra information before she left. Y/N forced a smile and sat back, but something in the room felt heavy.

“What’s going on? What aren’t you guys telling me?” Y/N frowned, staring at her friends. She saw them all exchange a look and Hotch being the most straightforward man she knows decided to deliver the news.

“It’s Spencer. Unfortunately, Spencer’s brain has swelled significantly and doctors don’t know when he’ll wake. It’s already been almost 42 hours since the accident.” Hotch frowned, watching Y/N’s expression turn from a hopeful one into one of the most unbearable expressions of grief.

“Wh--what, what does that mean? Does that mean he’s--is he ever going to wake up?” She began to panic, her heart rate audibly increasing. She squeezed JJ’s hand as hard as she could.

“We can’t be sure yet, the swelling has to go down before doctors can make any claims. It’s still too early to say he’s in a coma, which is a good sign. He’s also been showing steady signs of improvement.” Hotch said and Y/N covered her face to shield herself away from the embarrassment of openly sobbing.

JJ and Penelope both looked at the bruised and broken girl on the bed with tears brimming their eyes, unsure of what to do.

“I have to see him. Please. Please, JJ.” Y/N sobbed, pleading at the woman beside her. JJ looked towards Hotch for guidance.

“I’ll speak with the Doctor and see what I can do.” Hotch nodded once and left the room. Aaron Hotchner was simply a man you couldn’t say no to. Thankfully, this extended to doctors as well. The next time someone came in, they entered with a wheelchair. After many screams and with the help of three nurses and a doctor, they managed to get Y/N into the wheelchair. They rolled her off into Spencer’s room where he lay motionless on a bed just like hers. The sight of him so frail with so many tubes going in and out of his orifices should have overwhelmed her, but she was just so happy to see him breathing. Once again she could barely control her tears as she weakly gripped at the hand that was closest to her. She pressed sloppy, uncoordinated kisses to the back of his hand and pleaded for him to wake.

The sight was overwhelming, even for Hotch. It was difficult to see their two youngest agents fight for their lives.

And for the next two days, this is how it went. Y/N would wake from her slumber, request to see Spencer and would not leave his side unless her Doctor absolutely required her to. She didn’t care about what he’d said to her before the crash, she didn’t care. It didn’t matter. She just wanted him here. She wanted to hear his voice again. What a luxury that was.

Slowly, Spencer began improving. He’d begin to open his eyes but shut them immediately afterwards. He’d make noises, even though they were very garbled, they were very welcome. Y/N would read to him, she’d have any one of their friends bring over his favorite books and she’d pass the time reading to him. It was difficult at first, but she’d improved too.

On the fifth day, he was awake and fully conscious before she even got to his room.

He heard his teammates speaking around him again and what a relief it had been to wake in a hospital bed rather than his own bed. He let out a heavy sigh of relief as they updated him of what happened in the recent days. 

It wasn’t real. 

None of it was.

Maeve wasn’t there, Y/N was his, no one else’s.

He’d been sure of it when they’d rolled her into his room and near his bed, eyes lit with hope surrounded by healing scrapes and bruises.

“Spence? Spencer!” She exclaimed, “Oh thank God you’re awake.” She whispered trying her hardest to lean towards him on the bed.

Spencer fought to raise his arm to touch her arm, “Y/N? A-are you really here?” He whispered back.

“I’m here baby, I’m here. I’m never leaving you.” She sobbed, leaning her face into his awaiting palm. Spencer’s chest filled with immense relief as his thumbs caught her fallen tears.

“Y/N, wait--Y/N, I’m so sorry...I’m so sorry about what I said. I remember. I didn’t mean it. You’re the one for me. Life is perfect with you.” Spencer frowned as tears of his own raced down his cheeks.

Y/N shook her head, “It’s okay, I don’t care about that anymore. I could have lost you. I-if I had lost you, I would have lost myself Spencer. I love you so much. I love you so much.” She repeated as she kissed the palm of his hand. 

“I love you so much, Y/N.”

How could he have ever wished to live without this? Without her?

The universe had taught him his lesson and boy was he glad he had learned it.

#spencer reid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid fanfiction #Spencer Reid fic #Criminal Minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fanfiction #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid masterlist #spencer reid angst #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid imagine #mgg #CM

[fruitcoops]

can we get a part 2 to caps panic attack? like an outside perspective (not caps) maybe loops or like a cub or something ?

Y'all thought I was lying when I said I'd have Alarm Bells 2: Electric Boogaloo out soon, didn't you? Please ignore the fact that it's been juuuust under four months since the original fic, and enjoy draft #4! This is the longest I've spent on one fic! SW credit goes, of course, to @lumosinlove <3

TW for mentioned panic attacks

The door closed with a dull thud. Choking silence fell over the entire room before a cold, brittle, furious voice asked, “what the hell was that?”

Arthur swallowed around the dryness of his mouth and shook his head.

“What the hell was that?” Remus repeated. His temper was rare—Arthur had never seen him truly angry, but the tic at the edge of his jaw told a different story.

“I’m sorry,” he managed as he picked his clipboard up off the floor. “To—to all of you, I’m sorry.”

“I respect you a lot, Coach,” Dumo said, cutting Remus off before he could continue. “But that was out of line. Tonight’s game was bad. We all know that, especially Cap. That doesn’t excuse putting the blame on one person or throwing things.”

“You’re right.” He swallowed again and looked around the rest of the locker room; every other player stared at the ground, avoiding his gaze. Bitterness tinged his teeth—he was acting like the coach he had always promised he wouldn’t be. “I’m disappointed in myself for tonight’s game, and I took it out on all of you. Pascal is right, that wasn’t fair. I hope you can accept my apology and forgive me for losing my temper like that.”

“We’re not the ones you need to ask, though, are we?” James said from his stall without sparing him a glance.

Arthur suppressed a wince. He had been so preoccupied with his frustration at himself that he didn’t even notice the growing tension in Sirius’ body, nor the way he began leaning away as Arthur ranted. The same mask of fear, false control, and misery had painted Sirius’ face as when his mother—god, he looked at Arthur like he looked at that horrible woman—came to forcibly trade him to the Snakes. “You all deserve an apology,” he corrected. “But you’re right.”

“Excuse me for a minute,” Remus muttered as he stood and headed toward the door. They watched him go without a word.

“How can I make this up to you?” Arthur asked.

Finn’s shoulders sagged. “Don’t do it again.”

“I won’t.” A door down the hall creaked, and he prayed Sirius wasn’t suffering alone anymore.

“Apologize to Cap,” Dumo said.

“Absolutely.”

“Don’t—” Leo faltered, then pressed his lips together. “Don’t tell us we all share blame as a collective, then make Cap take the weight. That’s a shitty thing to do.”

Arthur’s throat tightened. “It is. I never should have done that to any of you.”

A few beats of quiet passed before Kuny raised his hand; Arthur nodded to him. “Don’t yell when angry, please. Very loud. We already know when you are upset.”

“I’m sorry, Evgeni. I’ll keep that in mind.”

“Same as Kuny.”

“Can you give us specifics about what we did, next time?”

“Please don’t throw your clipboard.”

“I’ll stay another hour to go through tape, if that’s what it takes.”

“Try not to interrupt us, please.”

For the next five minutes, Arthur noted down every single suggestion he heard; several were followed by murmurs of agreement. “Anyone else?” he finally asked. The boys shook their heads. “Thank you for telling me. I promise I’ll do better in the future, and—”

The knock on the door was soft, but it echoed throughout the room and sent a bolt of nervousness through Arthur’s heart. Remus poked his head in a second later. “Coach, can we borrow you for a second?”

Arthur set his clipboard down and headed into the hall without hesitation.

Sirius…if he was being honest, Sirius was a wreck. His eyes were red-rimmed and his cheeks were pink; a tissue was crumpled into little more than atoms in his fist. Still, he kept his chin up. Arthur hated the idea that Sirius thought he needed to brace himself with faux confidence.

“I’m sorry.”

Sirius’ lower lip wobbled once. “Thank you.”

“You kept them going out there even when they were ready to give up. We didn’t win, but we kept playing because of your leadership. Thank you.” He received a curt nod in response and pointedly ignored the tremor in both of Sirius’ hands. “I took my frustration out on you, which was wrong for many reasons, the least of which being that you don’t deserve to be talked to like that. Sirius, I truly am sorry for everything that just happened in there.”

“Apology accepted,” Sirius said. His voice was rough, but steady. “The guys didn’t deserve that, either.”

“I know. I apologized to them as well.”

“Good.” He sniffled once, then held his hand out for Arthur to shake. “In that case, I forgive you.”

“Thank you.”

Remus waited by the locker room door with an entirely neutral expression that would have unsettled Arthur if it didn’t melt into something soft and tired when he wrapped an arm around Sirius’ waist. “Ready?” he asked quietly.

The gentle buzz of conversation vanished as they entered again; Arthur sent them on their way with wishes for a good night’s sleep and a promise to talk more in the morning, and they trooped out in a tight group. As soon as the last of them disappeared down the hallway, he sat down in the nearest stall with a heavy sigh.

“That was impressive,” a voice remarked from the door. The bench creaked as Moody sat down next to him with a huff. “How’re you feeling?”

“Like shit.”

“Figured. Cap forgave you?”

“Thankfully.” Arthur rubbed his eyes until he saw spots. “Christ, Alastor, I sent him into a panic attack.”

“Asking what you can do to be better was a good move for all of them. That’ll serve you well in the long run.”

“I’m just grateful Loops didn’t break my kneecaps,” he laughed humorlessly. He stared down at the clipboard and the notes crammed into the margins for a long moment. “How did I fuck up that badly?”

Moody shrugged. “You’re human. You got upset. Don’t do it again. While you were in the hall, they were all saying how you didn’t seem like yourself, so I’d take that as a sign you’re doing something right. Just pay attention next time, and take some deep breaths.”

“You sound like Molly.”

A heavy hand landed on the back of his shoulder and gave him a light shake. “She’s a smart woman. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I need to make sure my candy jar isn’t empty again. You have a team of locusts, Weasley.”

Arthur smiled at his retreating back. “Yeah, but they’re our locusts. You know you love ‘em.”

Moody’s glare was nothing but fond.

#sirius black #arthur weasley #remus lupin #james potter #pascal dumais #leo knut #finn ohara #kuny #coops #alastor moody #sweater weather #lumosinlove #my fic #fanfic #alarm bells

[yanderenightmare]

ooh I wanna see ua bakugo frustrate with his affection over this clueless moron, kinda like shoto, like he gives her like a flower and she's just like wuut .__.

yandere ! BAKUGO KATSUKI

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

This is so cute, I can’t. Don’t know if this is what you wanted hahahaha, but I have a weak spot for like Luna Lovegood girls, like Alice in Wonderland derpy pigtailed pastel Melanie Martinez lookin’ cupcakes. And made this still in the UA au... hope that’s ok!

goodiebag WARNINGS: slight yandere, slight dubcon theme, profanity, anxiety, hallucinations, stalking

SCARY LOVE

He felt like such a stalker, like a wolf hiding in the grass, just a disgusting waste of a human being standing and ogling her from the safe distance, far enough away that she wouldn’t care to look up, but just close enough to see the color in her eyes from where she was planted in the shade under the campus willow-tree.

Why was she so fucking cute?

Her locks knotted up into two big messy buns, big splendid pastel bows tying them both into place, one blue, the other pink, matching puffy scrunchies decorating both her wrists. Cute. Small wisps of light flowing hair falling in front of her face, tickling her nose, making it scrunch like a how bunny would every now and again. Cute. White ruffled socks reaching halfway up her leg. Cute. Her knees baring pastel-colored band-aids and small scrapes and purple bruises, in the same state her elbows were. Cute. Nimble fingers handling the book that seemed so out-of-place in its size where it weighed down heavily in her lap. She looked like such a fucking fairytale. A soft-tinted cotton-candy daydream. 

Ready to have his bloody hands fuck up everything.

Bloody hell. What the fuck is he doing?

He can’t just stand there like some lovesick freak and do nothing, simply waiting for the school-bell to sound off its alarm, making her jump up like a little bunny popping up from its rabbit-hole where she’ll struggle with carrying that ridiculous book and sit down in class only to daydream about going back outside, but not before she’ll walk past him, allowing him to smell that sweet perfume that always has his heart clenching furiously in his chest and his cock growing warm and heavy in his pants.

What is wrong with him?

He can’t be thinking of her like that. This sweet precious little flower sitting so quietly with no wish to bother anyone, so soft and sweet he bet she’d cry if she so much as stepped on an ant. He wondered if she was a crier, if she’d be this adorable little crybaby ball of sobs and wet moans beneath him. He wondered what types of sound she’d make if he shoved his cock inside her. If she’d squeal and gasp and hiccup at his size, if she’d mewl, if she’d whimper, if she’d scream.

Fuck.

He needed to calm the fuck down.

To think he would never have met her if he hadn’t been forced to sign up to that stupid side-course. To think he was so mad that he didn’t make the cut for the class about war-theory and was forced to take philosophy with a bunch of air-headed freaks instead. To think he almost didn’t meet her. To think- fuck, he’s even starting to sound like one of them fucking philosophy-ditzes.

To be or not to be, or to drool over the girl sitting beneath the willow-tree.

Maybe that’s what he should submit next time they have one of those moronic poetry sessions. Perhaps then she would look at him with interest, with surprise and even praise, maybe even reverence, mirroring the look he gives her when she stands on the podium reciting her swirling words and artful descriptions, looking as though she’s entirely in her own world, dreaming, not just speaking but preaching, preaching to him about gods he’s never heard of yet somehow always believed in.

He used to believe gods drank blood and could only be celebrated through pain, that they made creatures like him, crafted him from dragon bones and fire and everything sharp and deadly, crafting him from war for war to become war itself, to find purpose in conquering, to find worth in glory. But now… looking at this creature, this creature who celebrates life and not death through laughter and daydreams and love far away from pain, he knows he’s had it all wrong.

He’s no good with words. He never has been. Except when insulting people, then he turns into a fucking lyric. What she can do is a gift. Either that, or she’s simply just insane. Either way, he doesn’t really care. She’s still soft, a tender type of madness, sweet and small and would look so good with a couple of love-bites to crash that display of milk and cream and cotton, so fucking brilliant with his handprint marking her ass… and he’s doing it again.

Fuck.

None of that will happen if he doesn’t grow a pair and go talk to her. But he can’t just talk to her. He has nothing to say. Or he has plenty to say, but nothing she could hear. He needed to find the most straightforward approach, however… while it needed to be unmistakable or lest she misunderstand, it couldn’t be aggressive. That would frighten her and he couldn’t risk spooking her away. He couldn’t risk ruining everything. It was apparent she didn’t think too much of him except that he was an angry looking boy in her Friday-classes, he needed to prove he too could be… sweet… or at least something akin to it.

He was wrong in thinking that anything would make her look up from her book. Even as he stood a mere meter away from her, she didn’t look up, completely lost and submerged in her own world as she always was. Only when he cleared his throat did she finally lift her gaze, eyes fluttering from traveling the pages and blinked softly to look up at him.

Cute.

He forgot to say anything, with a hand reached out, fisting the air, knuckles whitening in his grip, where inside the seemingly furious hand was something to contrast his otherwise deadly red stare.

The look of puzzlement on her face was insurmountable. Her small hands giving no indication to receive whatever he was offering.

“Is this a threat?” Came her soft voice, shaking him out of the faze he’d slipped into, though quickly plunging him into another one, this time not so much anticipation but confusion.

“What? No!” The both of them simply looked at each other for a moment. Bakugo’s hand still protruding out towards her, the thing in his hand no more tempting to accept than before to the girl who was still planted, making no action to get up from her spot.

“I don’t understand…” She admitted, wondering if he perhaps wanted her seat in the shade, but wasn’t given the time to ask the question as he decided to clear things up.

“It’s a flower.”

She could see that. It was a flower ripped from its root, an otherwise healthy flower before being suffocated in Bakugo’s death-grip.

“It’s a dead flower…” She corrected, a hint of sorrow on her features and he knew he was already failing in his pursuit, wanting to make things right before they could derail even more.

“It’s pretty... like you.” That came out as even more an ominous threat he realized, indicating she’d end up like the proven pretty dead flower in his chokehold.

“Are you sure this isn’t a threat?” The fact that she felt the need to ask him not only once but twice told him all he needed to know of her thoughts regarding him. She obviously thought he was a deranged explosive beast from the Hero-course.

“Goddamn it, no, I…” He frustrated, finding it hard to arrange the words, finding it hard to even find the words. “You… You’re so… You-” She was oblivious to how much he was struggling it seemed, as her personality suddenly shifted and she jumped up, book thrown to her side rather recklessly, skirt with ruffles and all bouncy with the same vigor as her tits.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, clapping her hands together, eyes wide with such bright light Bakugo almost felt blinded by, it even managing to frightened him a bit. “Thank you, that’s very good to know! I’d be terrified if I was anyone but me!” His brows lifted in dawning realization, feeling safer by being calmed by the reminder of how he was talking to a ditz, a complete mental-case… though… a mental-case who’d managed to dance her way and get lost in his heart. “Pardon me for being so blunt, but I wouldn’t be able to forgive myself if I didn’t ask.” Preparing him for her question, she leant in just a bit more, looking at him intently. “Are you yourself today, Bakugo?”

As absurd as the question was to him, when it rolled off her tongue it nearly seemed like the most casual of things to ask someone, as though she was requesting his thoughts on the weather. And though it was the epitome of peculiar, the more he thought about it, the more he realized how appropriate the question was, because he were, in fact, not at all feeling like himself.

“… No.”

She gave a contemplative look and a hum. “Then you must be Baku-gone…” He couldn’t hold back the snort that followed her statement, again being reminded of what a complete klutz she was, something so far away from his cynical view of the world and something far more relaxing than what his fears had managed to conjure of her rejection. It seemed so ridiculous now, that he’d thought she would run away or scream, never having let himself imagine her in what he knew was her true nature, light-hearted and incapable of doing any harm, at least not on purpose. “Wow, you really must be, huh?” She continued, fishing him out of his curt chuckling. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you laugh. Come to think of it… I don’t think I’ve ever even seen you smile.” She mused, admiring the small pleasantness stretched upon his face.

But then his brows furrowed, the happiness seeping from his features and leaving them contorted with annoyance, much to her dismay, regretting her choice of words. “I smile.” He argued, looking at her as though demanding she explain herself.

She cocked her head to the side, eyeing him, scrunching her brows and biting her lip for a second or two as though she were in deep thought, not wanting to upset him any further, though not wanting to speak without candidness. “No… you… bare teeth… like a wolf eager to catch its prey.” His ears retracted, features taken aback by her observation, finding he couldn’t quite say otherwise, though he’d never viewed it that way, but again, the more he thought about it, the more all her strange words made sense as he found them to be true. Silly of him to think his wolf-in-sheep’s-clothing approach could fool her, silly of him to think he could fool himself into believing she’d ever consider going out with someone so… predatory.

Though, minds are easily swayed, he reminded himself of. Her opinion of him wasn’t set in stone after all. “Does it scare you?” He finally asked, finding that was the only thing he was actually curious about. Though… perhaps it wouldn’t be the worst thing if she did fear him just a bit, because god knows how terrified he is of her and how she makes him feel as though he’s bleeding or falling or stripped of everything, cut by the knees and naked and so very needy to have her just look at him.

“I would say no, but I cannot lie.” His heart sunk upon hearing her admit it, disappointed, not sure if it was in her or in him.

She’s scared… Of course, she is scared! Who wouldn’t be? Dumb of him to think anything else.

“But, that’s rather the point isn’t it? To scare people?” She took a step forward, eyes bright and hopeful, hating to think she’d upset him.

“Not you.” It was barely above a whisper, words simply cast out there, and it left the girl looking perplexed, curious and even guilt-stricken or ashamed.

“Well… I shouldn’t fear things I know too little about… that would be silly…” She felt the urge to touch him, wanting him to truly hear her words, wanting to enforce them by touch, yet as her hands reached out to take his all so brazenly her eyes fell upon the flower again. She didn’t really have any wish to touch something dead, it always being such a cold and empty feeling running like ice through her veins, yet she reached out to receive the flower anyway, not wanting to hurt his feelings. “So, if not my fear, what is it this Bakugone wishes of me then?” She slipped on a tender smile, genuine and perfect, her soft fingertips brushing against his.

“I…” He was so focused on how she was touching him, the pressure, the elegance, the perfection, so focused he forgot the words again, so focused on her soft fingertips, her warmth, her pastel-manicured nails, he didn’t realize how the movement had stilled.

“You want to eat my heart.”

Her voice made him look up from where they were conjoined, crimson orbs dragged slowly to meet the oddity of her voice no less her words, yet as he looked, he continued to search because he found no eyes looking back at him, only whites, wide gleaming glowing void whites staring at him.

“You want to rip open my ribcage and feast.” Shaken and confused his brows twisted as he yet again tried to find her eyes. “You want to see me burst and bloom for you.” He hadn’t tried pulling his hand away, not really wanting to either, but he realized he perhaps wouldn’t be able to even if he’d wanted with how hard she was now digging her once soft fingers into his wrist. “You want to cripple me. You want to hear my deathbed confession. You want to lick the sin from my expression.” Her brows were the ones to crinkle now as she inhaled a shuddering breath, her hand shaking as she held onto him, seemingly as though her life depended on it. “You want and you’ve been wanting for so long. You want and want, there’s no end to what you want.” Her voice was now frantic, sporadic, hitched and frightened. “You want more and more and more and more and more-” She shook so much she lost her footing and tripped, staggering back and hitting the dirt with a sharp thud, knocking her out of whatever trance she’d slipped into, no more words coming thundering from her lips except for a cute little exclamation of oof, fluffy skirt puffed out around her like a jellyfish.

“What the fuck!” He shouted once she let go, flower falling to the floor, dropped in the midst of his shock and confusion as to what had happened, yet also feeling embarrassed with how she’d seemed to have caught him red-handed, and shaken with how much she knew, disturbed with how it all had been phrased, yet concerned, concerned because he knew he’d failed, he’d scared her so much she nearly melted, but somehow even more concerned with how she’d hit the ground. “I’m-” She looked up at him and he was left dumbstruck with how wide her eyes were and how full they now seemed with the return of her irises and pupils. No longer looking like wax, but like great gems or galaxies he couldn’t help but fall prey to, especially with how glossy they were, shining and glimmering and wet, wet with tears.

“No wonder you feel gone.” She suddenly mumbled, or it wasn’t exactly a mumble, but in contrast to whatever voice she spoke in before it surely seemed subdued. “Someone’s run off with your heart!” She clumsily got back to her feet, gripping his shoulders, nearly making him stagger back and fall with just how intense and vivid her actions were thrown at him. “You’re in love!” She squealed, nearly screaming it at him, before reeling herself back in, probably only now realizing how she’d attacked the boy. “Excuse me, I mean pardon, I mean I’m terribly sorry if I frightened you.” She backed away, fingers playing with each other as she tumbled through her sentence. “It’s my quirk you see. It has a habit of living its own life. I didn’t mean to spout out your desires like that, it was a total invasion of your privacy and completely rude and unethical on my side. I really am so sorry. Would you forgive me?”

Wasn’t he the one who should be apologizing to her?

He remained stunned and confused and growing even more so by the second as she spoke. “Perhaps I could make it up to you? Perhaps I can help you in your quest to retrieve your heart? Who is the thief?”

And there it was.

She was so overwhelmed she didn’t even pick up who the emotions were for.

Silly thing.

This made him ease up. He hadn’t spoiled everything yet. In fact, she seemed even more enthusiastic now than before, even more eager to talk to him and help him even. “Is it that green-haired boy? What was his name again? Something with D or M, I can’t for the life of me remember! Or perhaps it’s the floaty one? You know, the one with the big brown eyes. No! I know who it is, it’s the one with the shark teeth, and the spikey red hair-” She rambled, and even though some of her suggestions revolted him, he couldn’t bring himself to stop her when she was so… so bouncy with thrill, so cute with how her tits squeezed together in her top and jumped for him with every word that fell from those lushes pink lips that would feel so good to bite into and feel on his neck and down his chest and-

“You can help me.” He suddenly blurted, whipping her from her rambling.

“Really?!” Big eyes, filled with such expectancy and acceptance of whatever he was about to request even without a shred of knowing what. “How?” It was as though it were her life wish to help, that denying him would mean death or something even worse in her eyes.

“By making it up to me.”

His grin returned, the one that lacked… not exactly happiness, because there was still a certain glee to it, a certain enjoyment, yet lacking altruism and was instead left looking greedy and gluttonous and as though he was made up of… teeth, and only teeth, and too many teeth, and that those teeth were too sharp.

“Oh.” She seemed drained of her vigorous passion, like a light snuffed out, swallowing thickly. And though she knew it all to be in her head, knew it all to be but a figment of her fears, she still took a step back as though she’d seen something that worried her, and was quickly followed by what had worried her as Bakugo paralleled her backtracking, leaving her no further away from his hungry open-mouthed smirk.

“Kiss me.” She realized she’d backed all the way into the tree, her back meeting the hard trunk seemed to shake her from her vision as the biting image submerged and left her with a quite normal-looking Bakugo towering over her, no longer Bakugone or just a toothy grin, and she was left deciding whether it was any better or maybe even worse than what she had been picturing.

Yet, she had no time to think as Bakugo’s hand raised to cup her cheek, where in the seconds it took for him to do so, she needed to prepare herself for all his obsessive lovesick thoughts she knew would yet again flood her mind, only now she wouldn’t shake from them, and what more, now she knew who they were about. Poor thing had taken Bakugo’s heart without knowing, without knowing to prepare for Bakugo’s blood-stained scarred hand to reach into her chest and hold her own terror-wide heart in a chokehold as he too took it for himself. Without knowing how to protect herself from his many sharp teeth that would steal and eat to satiate what livid hungry fire, what desperate thirst she’d awoken inside his heart, to relieve the pain of it all, to finally breath again, to find safety, to find belonging, to find life. And she had no way of preparing for it, no way of protecting herself from it, no way of hiding from Bakugo’s sharp teeth… but when his hand, his calloused sandpaper-textured palm handled her cheek she was met with a new image, a soft-tinted mellow yet dramatic rhapsodic fire, one that she rather cherished than feared, one that she felt like chasing, one that seemed like it was calling her.

Bakugo leaned in slowly, as though asking for permission, receiving no complaints, just a set of large eyes staring at him. Her hands, feeling as though their fingertips had plunged deep into the bark of the tree behind her, ripped loose to touch him, feeling the simmering plethora of brutally violent passions swimming beneath them as they hovered on top of his skin. Tasting it on her tongue as he captured her soft lips with his own stiff ones. She could taste the hunger, the teeth, the longing, the pain, the fire, the waiting and time he’d suffered in the darkness all alone, she could taste the war, but more… she could taste the fear, the fear of losing or not having at all, and at the very tip of her tongue, stronger than anything else, she caught it, the flavor crystalized like sugar… hope… love.

Support me at KO-FI if you feel like it<3

#bakugo #bakugou #katsukibakugou #bakugou katsuki #Katsuki Bakugō #yandere bakugo katsuki #katsuki #yandere katsuki #katsuki bakugo imagine #katsuki bnha #bakugou imagine #bnha bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #yandere #yandere bakugou #yandere bnha #yandere bakugo #yandere boku no hero academia #yandere mha

[ff7-has-taken-me-over]

“What was Yennefer doing in Oxenfurt?”

Jaskier knows of course. Knows that Geralt could never want him for more than whatever information he can offer on Yennefer, no matter what else happens to the two of them.

It still hurts though and he has to take a moment to remind himself that Yen isn’t the one at fault here. Despite how Jaskier wishes he could just blame it all on her, he knows better than anyone how much of an idiotic bastard his Witcher is.

“Well she was saving my life. Yeah, I know. I’m as surprised as you are, seeing as I trust her about as far as I could wring her stringy, weird neck, but it’s true.”

Though Jask isn’t entirely too sure about that statement anymore. Thinks that after what happened in Oxenfurt and what she had done for him and the genuine relief on her when she hugged him may have given her a few extra brownie points in his book.

He doesn’t tell Geralt that though, just tells him what he wants to hear about his pretty witch and cracks a few jokes to try and hide the burning jealousy and anger raging through him.

Then their off and everything after is a blur with only minor gaps of clarity. Geralt still makes Jaskier walk, the bloody prick. It’s not as bad though since the dwarves give him a ride in their cart half way to their destination.

Jaskier finally meets the famed princess of Cintra, though she walks by him with barely a glance and that hurts much more than it has any right to. He tells Geralt how alike he and his daughter are but even he barely glances his way, too busy paying attention to Yen.

It fucking sucks how everything feels exactly the same as it did before the mountain. Jaskier hates feeling like that annoying fly that everyone wants gone but he hides it well, he wouldn’t be called a famous bard if he weren’t able to act out emotions that were never there.

Then everything with that evil witch and Cirilla happens and suddenly Yen, Geralt and the princess are dropping back into the room in front of him and the rest of the Witchers.

Jask goes to Yen first because how could he not? He likes her better than anyone here at the moment and she’s probably the closest thing he has to a friend in this run down keep.

Once he figures out that she’s fine he lets her go off with Geralt and Ciri, watching them for a moment before walking off himself. The remaining Witchers look at him with varying expressions, confusion, anger, vague recognition. None of them move to stop him when he leaves though, and he’s kind of glad for it.

He decides it’s his time to leave now. He’s not needed, he’s not wanted and quite frankly, he doesn’t want to be here with so many people being hostile toward his presence.

He walks straight out of the front doors, stopping for a moment to shiver and mourn the loss of cover from harsh winds before continuing on. He barely makes it out the front gates before there are two shouts of his name, one of them making him walk just the slightest bit faster.

He can’t even make it another two steps because there’s suddenly a grip around his arm that’s spinning him back towards the keep. He glares harshly as Geralt looks at him in confusion, Yen standing to his left and looking on with something that borders on desperation.

“Where are you going?” Jaskier can’t help but snort at that, his glare turning harsher as he rips his arm out of the Witcher’s grip, ignoring the flinch that induces.

“I’m leaving obviously. Cirilla’s safe and sound and you’ve got your witch here to help you. You don’t need me here standing in the way of everything and quite frankly, I don’t want to be somewhere I am so clearly unwanted.”

Geralt can’t even respond to that, too busy staring at him with an opened mouth and raw guilt actually shining in his eyes without being hidden for once. The sight’s a bit too much for the bard’s tender heart at the moment so he offers the man a curt bow and spins on his heel, intent on actually leaving this time.

But Yen has other plans, hugging him from behind tight enough to actually stop him dead. They don’t say anything to one another, Jaskier basking in both the fact that she voluntarily touches him now and the feeling of comfort the embrace actually brings.

Eventually Yen whispers against his back in a voice that Jask isn’t even sure if Geralt can hear despite his Witchery senses.

“I need you here Jask. How else am I supposed to survive a batch of bore-headed Witchers.” It’s enough to make him laugh, and unfortunately (or maybe fortunately) it’s also enough to make him stay.

He completely ignores the relief on Geralt’s face, instead returning Yen’s hug and then leading her back to the keep. Geralt trails behind them and wisely keeps his mouth shut for the duration of the journey.

Just because Jaskier said he’d help and said he’d forgiven the Witcher doesn’t mean he’s not angry still. Honestly he’s fucking livid and the fact that Geralt went back to ignoring his existence the second he had Yen back fuelled it even further. So he doesn’t care if the man was hurt by his actions and he doesn’t care if nobody else wanted him there because Yen wanted him and that was enough.

#the witcher #the witcher season 2 #Geralt #Jaskier #Yennefer #possible Geralt x jaskier x Yennefer #Jaskier is hurt #Yennefer is a good friend #Geralt is an ass #Jaskier has feelings #fic prompt #prompt #ideas #fic ideas #possible Geralt x jaskier #this a long one

[kira-fluff]

Hey heyy, have you thought about writing another common trope headcanon / oneshot with the MysMe guys?

Because the “only one bed” was extremely good!!

Even if you decide not to do it, just know that your blog and your talent amazes me<3

a/n: Did you even have to ask??? OF COURSE IF YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME LOL thank you gorgeous <3 I decided to try putting it in a fanfic (one shot unless requested) format since it's definitely quite long and making a mini-series featuring those you request for me to include in my next fic or a pt2! :) also this is a slow burn and is quite spicy <3 Also, I did my best not to make it like the whole share the room thingy again!! ***I’m not fluent in French pls don’t @ me

Length: 6k lol 

A Series of Unfortunate Events Fake Dating - Jumin Han 

A sudden message beep surprised you, causing you to look down at your phone. It was a text message from Jumin: Call me.  Immediately suspecting the worst, you quickly pressed his contact, the number dialing in seconds. There was a few seconds that ran by before the other end answered with a curt, "Y/n."  "Jumin, hey, is something wrong?", you asked, worriedly.  "Everything is perfectly fine. I was calling to ask you a favor -- feel free to decline." Jumin never asked for favors, or your help in general.. you knew whatever it was you were determined to assist him in the best way possible. "Of course, Jumin! Anything."  There was silence for a moment as if he was contemplating whether or not it this favor was truly worth asking before he spoke, "Please decline if you are unable to but... I was wondering if you'd be willing to indulge my father. He's insisted that I bring you with me to our business closure."  "Jumin", you began, "I'd be honored. I'd love to!"  On the other line, there was a sigh of relief (or of worry, you weren't sure). "Mr. Kim will be at your apartment to pick you up tomorrow. The meeting is taking place in Monoco -- pack for a ten-day trip" There was a pause before Jumin breathed out a quiet, "Thank you."  You couldn't hold back your smile, thankful that the conversation was over the phone, making it impossible for him to see your dopey expression. He hung up, leaving you to pack. Your mind quickly wandered from what you needed in your suitcase to worrisome waters.  You and Jumin had a very deep friendship following the party you’d thrown, spending the time following the ginormous celebration to get to know each other. It warmed your heart that your newfound friend took so much joy in being with you -- even when he tried not to show it. You lost track of the number of times you ended up sleeping over at his penthouse after accidentally staying up until 4am talking with him, swishing expensive wine in your mouths.  You didn’t expect falling in love to come so easily. You were someone who was quite choosey with your partners -- you weren’t one to fall easily for anyone. Even in your past relationships that sometimes lasted years, you’d never felt the way your heart felt now that you were with him. And yet, you were best friends. You were sure you meant something to him in so far as friendship, but you had respected him when he’d gotten drunk one of the first nights he met you and spouted out his heart to you.. 

-  “Y/n, to tell you the truth.... I’ve never fallen in love before.” He gazed up at you lackadaisically from his position on the sofa -- head rested over the top of the sofa cushion, his arm lazily resting under his chin. He started at you for a moment, his gray eyes gazing into your own with a hazy, absent feeling in them.  You laughed, “I find that hard to believe.” You walked over to him, absent-mindedly running your fingers through his tousled hair. He let out a long, uncharacteristic sigh, his eyes closing gently.  You leaned in close to him, looking him in the eye. “Can I tell you something, too?” He nodded. “I haven’t either.”  -  You grinned at the memory. You firmly believed that conversation was what brought you and him together closer than ever before. He’d always found an excuse to call you over for the silliest of reasons. Either he needed a certain form that he was positive he accidentally slipped into your bag on accident and needed to see it first-hand to check, or he realized he’d bought more wine than was necessary for a night alone.  It made you smile for months that he couldn’t get out the words “I miss you” or “I want you to come over”. Even to you, the words sounded intimate.. but that was the way your relationship worked -- you were very close with each other, as two best friends ought to be.  Still, as much as you tried, you couldn’t control the way your heart began to constrict when he got especially close to you. You couldn’t help it when you’d shiver when he gently brushed cat fur away from your cheek. You were shocked that despite his perceptive personality, he didn’t seem to notice or acknowledge your deep blush during these interactions... maybe he was uncomfortable with them.... you hoped not.  There were times the air was knocked out of you. Literally. Once, you weren’t paying attention to the fact that the sidewalk had ended and you were walking straight into oncoming cars coming off the highway when a muscular arm slid around your waist and pressed your body flush to his own. You stared with eyes wide open at Jumin, who comically seemed equally surprised at his actions. You couldn’t help the way your eyes trickled down to his sultry lips, taking in their beautiful red-wine color, blooming like dark roses. Thankfully, he seemed too preoccupied with your current state of mind and physical wellbeing. When you finally managed to get your mind out of the gutter, you thanked him profusely, grabbing his hands impulsively and begging to reward him in some way. His answer surprised you, “I--uh-- a movie. I’d like to do more research watching one of those movies you enjoy watching.. for business sales and such.”  “Sure!! I can recommend anything! I’ll drop the email by your office tomorrow” you answered.  A panicked expression took over his face for a moment before returning to its familiar stoicism, “You won’t watch it also?” Your eyes widened in confusion before you answered hurriedly, “Oh! Yeah, I’ll watch it with you. I just wouldn’t want to bother you if you were doing it for work purposes.”  You could never bother me you thought you heard him say, but you couldn’t be sure.  Yep, you were in love with Jumin.  When you at last finished packing, you went to bed, looking forward to the mystery that befell tomorrow.  -  You rose bright and early to prepare for the exciting trip that was bound to come. You couldn’t help the extra bit of effort you ended up putting into your appearance in anticipation of seeing Jumin again and.. possibly sitting next to him on an aircraft.  Right on time, you received a text message from Mr. Kim, indicating that he had arrived at your apartment right on time. As you opened your apartment door to carry your luggage downstairs, you were met with numerous familiar faces of Jumin’s employees who quickly took your heavy luggage items for you. You thanked them, making your way to the elevator with them.  You texted Jumin: Thanks for the help with my luggage :)  In a matter of seconds, you received a reply, Jumin: You’re welcome.  Grinning down at your phone, you didn’t notice your driver's light chuckle, a look of astonishment in his eyes. These blind kids.  You continued to chatter along with Jumin on your phone, at last arriving at the rendezvous point where Jumin and the Chairman pulled in identical black limos alongside your own.  “Thank you, Mr. Kim. I can take it from here.”  Mr. Kim nodded in obedience, ushering you to go to Jumin. Jumin patted the leather seat next to his own in the sleek limousine. You held back a laugh, there were plenty of other seats open for you to sit.. but it warmed your heart that he wanted you right next to him. As friends. The Chairman joined the two of you, sitting across from his son, a mischievous glint in his eyes that only Jumin could recognize. A silent conversation took place between Jumin and his father -- Jumin beginning with a raised eyebrow. The Chairman replied with a sly smirk. Jumin with a scowl, his father with a growing grin. You watched the conversation continue silently before the Chairman at last spoke, “Jumin, my son, I’m overjoyed to see you’ve brought your Y/n with you.” A flash of annoyance crossed Jumin’s face as he said, “My... Y/n?”  You blanched.. of course the thought of you being his made him uncomfortable... but you didn’t think he’d be angry.  “Y/n, I’m glad you could join us. However, as much as I hate to ask this of you, there is something I desperately need from you.”  Before you could speak Jumin interjected, “Absolutely not.”  You caressed his hand, looking up at him with kind eyes, “Jumin, hey, it’s okay.” Looking toward Jumin’s father you said, “Whatever it is, I’ll do my very best.” Jumin’s jaw feathered a bit, but he said no more.  He grinned, “Aren’t you a kind girl. Well, in this business deal, the contract was originally contingent on Jumin marrying his daughter -- which I was against from the beginning. After all, I know the importance of loving the one you wish to be with.” (Jumin rolled his eyes at that.) “Anyway, I declined the offer.”  You were confused, unsure where your part came in.  As if reading your mind, he continued saying, “However, I perhaps let it slip that you two were engaged. I figured you both are so close with each other already, that it would be no issue to play a bit of husband and wife for the sake of business, no?”  Jumin was furious, his nose flared, jaw clenched with hands gripping his knee. “How dare--”  You glanced at him, biting the inside of your cheek, a worried expression painted your face. When he glanced at you, his eyes widened and his shoulders relaxed. This did not go unnoticed by the Chairman.  “We’ll do it, won’t we Jumin?” he looked surprised but made no objection. You leaned in close and whispered shyly, “I want to do something as thanks for this amazing trip.. and for you.”  - Jumin dared to swallow. For me? What the hell does that mean? You were driving him crazy. Every time he looked at you he had to fight to readjust his attention to something else. Does she know what it does to me when she touches me? Even a little bit?  When you’d put your hand on him, Jumin felt his chest and neck grow impossibly hotter, hotter than he’d been feeling when you’d first sat down next to him. Hotter than when you leaned in close and breathily asked him, “Jumin... how long until we’re at the airport?” It was like you’d drawn out every syllable, breathing out every consonant -- your breath tickling his neck. He imagined what it would feel like to have your plump, rosy lips on his neck, on his chest, on his lips, on his-- he was in over his head. He cursed himself for his lack of control. Usually, control was not an issue for Jumin -- in fact, he considered it one of his greatest strengths. From his leadership position in his father’s company, C&R, to his well-controlled temperament and stress management.. Jumin just didn’t do “no control”.  At first, it intrigued him. He could remember the exact day it hit him. He’d invited you to an elegant dinner his company hosted to celebrate (in a sort of “humble-brag” sort of way) yet another successful business closing with one of the biggest corporations in America. He’d been finishing off yet another glass of his new Domaine de la Romanee-Conti he’d bought when his eyes at last placed you at the front of the champagne server. His eyes raked up and down the soft, silk gown that clung to your body in all the right places. The gown hung loosely, exposing your back and most of your chest, a sultry slit separating one of your elegant legs from the other hidden in the fabric. It was a breath-taking emerald color... but all Jumin could really think of is how he’d take it off. Your hair was curled and done-up marvelously with little white pearls decorating the crown of your head like you had stars in your hair... but all Jumin could really think of was how he’d mess it up. His cheeks were on fire. Everything in his body had risen in temperature of what felt like a hundred degrees. He twirled his wine glass between his fingers before setting it down at one of the well-decorated tables. I must have a fever, he thought, that must be it. Your eyes found his person just as he was turning around to leave, speed walking to one of the penthouse balconies for fresh air. You raced after him or at least followed him as fast as your obnoxious heels allowed you to go.  You breathlessly met him as he was staring out into the night. Jumin realized that his temperature was slowly returning to normal. Perhaps the room was a bit suffocating. I’ll be sure to message Mr. Kim about increasing the air conditioning in the room. But... looking back on it now, Jumin knew he was lying to himself even then. Because, when he turned around he almost let out a shout. And his breath became uneven again, and it felt so burning hot all over again.  You slowly crept toward him, donning a concerned expression saying, “Jumin... are you alright?” Jumin backed into the marble railing. He was so eloquent normally but all he could let out then was a choked, “Fine.” He couldn’t take his eyes off you. Every step closer, he wanted to run. The stars were reflecting in your eyes and the moonlight made your supple skin look impossibly softer... You gently cupped his face and whispered, “Jumin, talk to me..? Please?” Jumin was heaving, looking down at you with rosy red cheeks and burning ears. “I--I think I have a... fever. A fever.”  You gasped, taking one of your hands and lightly grasping the back of his neck, pulling him down slightly. His eyes widened as you took your other cold hand and placed it on his burning forehead. “Oh my god! Oh my gosh, we -- ambulance! An ambulance.. a doctor? Or.. are you... drunk?”  “My room... please,” he begged.  You looked him up and down, examining his face for strain or discomfort. When you couldn’t find any, you let out a breath -- perhaps you’d overreacted. Nonetheless, you swung his arm over your shoulder and trudged through the now quiet dining area. Most had filtered out to the ballroom for dancing. You’d been here a million times, so remembering the way was no chore. You fished through his shirt and coat pockets, running your gentle digits across his chest, assuming the moan Jumin gave off was due to pain, still, a blush flushed your cheeks. “Sorry, I’m almost done.” You held him against the wall since at this point he couldn’t stand. Maybe I am a little drunk, he thought. You moved down to his pants pockets, your hands roaming through a business card and other odds and ends, eliciting another soft groan from Jumin. “Almost there...” you breathed, at last pulling out a key card and with a soft beep, opening his penthouse suite. You gently carried him to his bed before going to grab a glass of water and a cold washcloth. When one was placed on the table and the other on his forehead, you at last placed a warm throw blanket you’d found in his closet over him.  ...That memory became a source of numerous dreams. Jumin couldn’t forget it, no matter how many times he’d wished he wanted to (or wished it all to happen again).  - You gazed at him, looking at the way his expression hardened at times, softening and then suddenly switching to an expression you’d never seen before. What was he thinking about? You bit your lip, nervous that Jumin might change his mind upon meeting this woman his business partner wanted him to marry. She was certainly more beautiful, right? After all, Jumin hadn’t necessarily made any physical contact voluntarily toward you more than an occasional back rub in your asked after a long day at work, or if he got drunk while you two accidentally stayed up late -- then he’d sometimes caress your face with a love-sick expression and saying little things like, “You’re beautiful.” It was cute, for sure, but what drunk doesn’t turn into a soft puddle of goo, complimenting everyone around them?  You leaned into him as subtly as you could manage, closing your eyes to concentrate for a few minutes.  - You jumped awake when a deep voice rumbled in your ear, “We’re here.” You could hear the slight smirk in his voice, and sure enough, when you looked up, you saw a slight smile on his face. “Did you have a good dream?” You looked toward your left, thankful the Chairman was already out of the limousine and speaking on his phone to someone. “I--I had a dream?”  Jumin’s smirk stretched a little wider, “Yes. You said my name a couple times.”  Your eyes widened in shock before saying, “Oh! That dream! Yeah, I was dreaming that you were being eaten alive by bears and I was forced to watch!” God, you were such a bad liar. Jumin blinked. He felt sort of stupid. “Oh,” he cleared his throat awkwardly, “I see--”  Grateful for his gullibleness, you added, “Why, what did you think I was dreaming about?”  Jumin avoided eye contact saying, “Not anything in particular.”  A call for Jumin interrupted your conversation, making Jumin almost run out of the limo. You smiled a bit, a little flush rising up to your ears.  Jumin returned again, grabbing your hand. “This way,” was all he said. You followed him to the private jet that the Chairman was already boarding. You caught yourself staring at Jumin again as you followed him up the stairs to the entranceway of the cabin. Jumin smartly chose a seat far away from his father’s field of vision. He’d had enough of his unnerving looks when you’d fallen asleep on his shoulder, whispering things Jumin was beyond grateful only he could hear... at least he hoped. When you occasionally began to whine a bit louder he’d quiet you down by running his hands through your hair and stealing glances toward his father nervously saying, “A nightmare.” He wondered if he’d fooled his father, because the Chairman lightly chuckled and made his way to the passenger seat of the limo, sliding the privacy door shut. It had only gotten worse from there, you almost shouted his name, but he covered your mouth. Heat had been pooling in his stomach for a while now, but he didn’t know how much more he could take. Still, every time he thought of waking you up, you’d grab at his chest or legs,  effectively completely embolizing him.  You, of course, were unaware of all of this. You sat down next to him eagerly and wrapped your arm around his, pulling him close to watch a movie on the jet screens. It was almost 9pm by now, the night sky beginning to close in on the quiet aircraft. Neither of you could remember when you fell asleep, only waking up to the soft announcement of arrival from the pilot on the overhead and a soft blanket placed over the two of you.  You both groggily made your way to your waiting limousine to take you to the complimentary hotel stay at one of the chains owned by your expectant future business partner.  “Of course, I know you two are just friends.” The Chairman looked at you two before continuing, “So I have two hotel rooms, you’re 17 and you, Miss Y/N, are 18. I’m in master suite 3, so feel free to reach out whenever.” His eyes glittered as he said, “Have fun. Remember to act like a loving fiance! Especially you, my son." Jumin pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in contempt.  You turned your head toward Jumin, “Um, well, I’m pretty tired as you could probably already tell,” you laughed uncomfortably, “so I think I’ll head off to bed.”  Jumin blinked a few times before saying, “I will as well. Goodnight, Y/N.” You whispered a shy goodnight in reply before slinking into your hotel room.  - You awoke the next day to a call from a maid outside your door - room service. You thanked her before diving into your waffles, complete with chocolate dressing, whipped cream, strawberries, and powdered sugar. A glass of orange juice was delivered along with various other breakfast options and a bowl of kiwi, dragonfruit, apple, watermelon, honeydew, and almost any other fruit you could think of. Following your delicious breakfast, you padded over to the bathroom, rubbing the sleep out of your eyes and running the shower. Going through your morning routine helped calm you despite the role you weren’t at all prepared to play in just a few hours.  You jumped at the knock at your door. Looking through the peephole, it was Jumin. Flinging the door open, you looked at him expectantly. You were met with silence other than a few “uh.... uh....”s. You looked at him sarcastically, “What?”  He continued to stare, not at your face, however. You laughed but quickly grew silent as you met his gaze. You were an actual moron. What. The. Fuck. You were still in your fucking panties?!?! You slammed the door shut, running to slip on some shorts you found lying on the ground in the bathroom. Taking a deep breath you gently opened the door this time. Jumin was standing still as a statue when he snapped out of his trance at last. He looked away, “Try not to be dressed. I mean STRESSED.” he sputtered, “I-I’m going to leave now--”  “Um, Jumin?”  He slowly turned around, face as red as a strawberry, “Yes?”  “Um, sorry. About before. Um. Do you-- do you want to get some coffee? I’m still waking up, if you couldn’t already tell,” you laughed nervously.  He smiled warmly, “I’d love to.”  You awkwardly nodded before shutting your door. You ran to your hotel bed and screamed into one of the pillows. You cursed under your breath before making your way to the bathroom once more to finish the makeup look you had begun before being interrupted.  After 45 minutes, you looked your outfit up and down. You packed outfits that were elegant -- you bought clothes that looked expensive but in the kind of way that was subtle. Nude tones and deep colors, specifically. You were aiming for a look that said, “I’m not rich, I’m just comfortable. And by that I mean I’m rich.” You were never insecure about the difference in your and Jumin’s paycheck.. but when you’re supposed to play a part. And if you showed up in your comfy joggers and t-shirt like you normally wore when you visited Jumin or were free from work.. you had a feeling their reaction wouldn’t be the most inviting or understanding.  At last, you stepped out of your room, turning left to knock on Jumin’s door. He beat you to it, opening his door unexpectedly. This caused you to instead lean forward from your momentum and place your hand on his chest. You hurriedly adjusted his tie, doing your best to act as if that’s what you’d meant to do all along.  Jumin appeared to be just as surprised, but grinned, “No leggings and t-shirt today?” You jabbed him with your elbow as you made your way to the coffee bar, “Do you think they’d be all welcoming to your soon-to-be wife if she showed up in lounge clothes?”  “I’ve never complained.”  You scoffed, “Yeah, well, that’s because you’re nice. And, you apparently understand that not everyone can live in a suit every day.”  He paused for a moment before mumbling slightly, “Who cares what they think anyway.”  “I do! I don’t want to let your dad down. I told him I’d do this. We’re in Monaco, Jumin! C’est la vie!” “Parles-tu français?”* “Oui..?”  Jumin chuckled darkly before leaning in, saying, “Tu es juste trop mignonne.”** You blinked before replying, “...oui...?” Jumin looked at you incredulously with a slight smile on his face as he laughed, lightly ruffling your hair.  Jumin ordered for you -- apparently, it was quite clear you only knew a few words in French. Unfortunately, he also paid for you, despite your objections. Before you could yank his platinum card out of his hands, the transaction was already complete. He gazed down at you, an eyebrow raised with a triumphant smirk, “Elle aura aussi beaucoup de crème dans son café.”*** “Hey, what are you saying?! Jumin!! Speak Korean or English or Japanese! Something I can understand!!” You complained.  The worker interjected, “C’est tellement agréable de voir un couple sur leur ‘oneymoon.”**** You instinctively interjected, “Oh, that’s not--!”  But Jumin just smiled and nodded.  Upon sitting down at one of the many open tables, you let out a little giggle, “I wonder what it’ll feel like when I’m on the real thing.” Jumin quickly looked up from his staring contest with his coffee, “Real.. what?”  You grinned dreamily, “Honeymoon.”  “You.. want to get married?” “Don’t you?”  Only to you, he thought. “Maybe. If the right person came along.” If you’d ever say “yes”.  You held back the nervous twinge you felt in your throat, “Alright then, don’t be shy. What’s your type?”  “My.. type?”  “Yeah! Like, your ideal girl.” He paused, looking pensively at you. “Well, then I suppose my ‘type’ is a girl who is beautiful, and smart, and pretty... and always makes me laugh. And is bold but also shy.” His eyes widened as he grew quiet, “...something like that.”  You were shocked. He said he’s never fallen in love before.. but it sounds like he already has some girl in mind. “Wow. You’ve... thought a lot about this.”  Jumin looked surprised at himself -- he cleared his throat, “Just some ideas.”  You were still skeptical but changed the subject, “So, what exactly does this whole ‘wifey’ thing entail?” “Most likely just a ring on your finger and a fake smile.” “Oh come on, there’s more to it than that.”  “I’m sure my father has the details.” As if on cue, his phone chimed. “Ready to head out?”  “Yep!” You weren’t entirely sure, but you were beside yourself with nervousness and a bit of excitement. If you can’t have the real thing, you shouldn’t complain about a chance to fake it, right? And sure, you knew it was much more complicated than that -- what if he realized your true feelings?! ...You shook the thoughts out of your head and made your way to the waiting vehicle outside of the hotel. - “Monsieur Lorenzi! Good to see you!” The Chairman shook hands with who you assumed was the boss. “Let me introduce to you my son, Jumin, and his beloved fiance, Y/n.” You waved, smiling despite the twang in your heart. You and Jumin shook hands while Mr. Lorenzi introduced you to his daughter.  “It is so nice to meet you! This is my daughter, Ginevra.”  Immediately, you sized Ginevra up -- and she does not look happy. “So.. you’re the bitch who stole Ju-Ju from me?” “Ginevra! Be polite, please?” Mr. Lorenzi practically begged her, but she wasn’t budging, “Oh, come on. Their ‘engagement’ hasn’t even been released to the press yet!”  You looked worriedly between Jumin and Ginevra, but Jumin lovingly put his hand over yours, a soft smile on his face, “I’ll handle this, sweetheart.” He couldn’t help himself and lightly pecked your cheek, smirking into the kiss when he heard you elicit a small “oh!” Facing the irate woman, though, Jumin smiled in a way you’d seen him smile when he wasn’t particularly...happy.. about something. “Miss Ginevra, I can assure you Y/N and I are completely in love. She is my fiance, after all. That being said, we decided not to alert the media because we wanted our own privacy until the wedding.”  Ginevra scoffed, “Please. You barely even look like you’re dating. Face it, I know you want me, Jumin.” She bit her lip in a way that was supposed to be seductive, but Jumin couldn’t hold back the slight cringe that crept onto his face.  “T-that’s enough Ginev--”  “God! Shut up, Dad!  Mr. Lorenzi backed down at that, looking apologetic and embarrassed toward the Chairman and Jumin, and especially toward you.  You were growing tired of the entire conversation, “Shall we sit down?”  All except Ginevra agreed readily, the Chairman coughing in a way that sounded more like a laugh he was trying to conceal. Jumin's jaw clenched when he sat next to you, to your left and Ginevra quickly sat in the seat to his left. The meal went as well as expected. Jumin's father recognized that Jumin had his hands full and spent the majority of the dinner talking business with Mr. Lorenzi without his son.  Meanwhile, you were awkwardly playing with your filet mignon, avoiding eye contact with everyone until Jumin leaned his face down to your avoidant eye level. You snapped out of your trance immediately. You looked up at him -- his eyebrow was raised with an inquisitive expression. Okay, that was adorable. You held back your intruisive thoughts, blinking up at him, silently asking, "What is it?"  Jumin stared a little longer than necessary, before snapping out of his own trance and leaning in further and whispering in your ear, "...Are you alright?"  You nodded in reply, "Just a little uncomfortable."  Jumin gazed down at you in concern, "We can leave if you--"  "No. No, I'll stay." Who knows what that girl will do if I leave. He didn't look convinced.  Suddenly, Ginevra was calling for Jumin. Repeatedly. He turned in annoyance, "Yes?"  Her voice got low, clearly to exclude you from the conversation, "Let's go somewhere..." she looked Jumin up and down slowly, "...else.." And with no shame, she lowered a manicured hand to his knee, slowly trailing it up to his thigh. He immediately grabbed her wrist, saying in a low, deadly voice, "I have a fiance."  She sighed in frustration, "You're kidding yourself, baby--"  Jumin's eyes widened suddenly, and not due to anything Ginevra was saying. Your hand was high on his thigh as you leaned into the conversation you'd heard the entirety of. "Miss... whatever your name is.... Jumin is my husband. Soon. We have something you could never dream of every having because your personality sucks. And honestly, only you can fix that."  There was silence at the entire table for a moment before Ginevra turned her head quickly toward her father, "Daddy?!"  Her father had already gotten up, ushering the business conversation to continue rather than deal with his trainwreck of a daughter. She huffed, looking red in the face, perhaps in embarrassment as well as anger. "Well, you still can't prove that you're even dating!"  You very furious now, your glare cold enough to freeze the desert, "Is proof really the only thing that will shut you up?"  Before she could even answer, you geared your pissed off expression toward a semi-intimidated, semi-turned on Jumin and grabbed his face, meeting his lips with your own. Your kiss was meant to only last a few seconds at most, but when you tried to pull away, Jumin only deepened the kiss, pulling your face harshly toward his own. He tugged at your hair, earning a loud moan from you as he forced his flush lips further onto yours, his tongue gaining entrance into your mouth. His eyebrows were deeply knit into a consentrated expression, groaning as he felt you readjust your position onto his lap. You stradled his lap, a leg on either side of him, your tongues battling for dominance as you fished for air between you two. At last, you both parted, heaving in big breaths as a string of spit clung between your mouths -- only to go in for another searing kiss. You began to roll your hips against his own, gently at first but quickly gaining more momentum and roughness as you two continued to make out. You'd noticed his hard-on the moment you'd straddled his lap but it only grew as you two began to explore the other's body. And just like that, you realized you were still in a formal dining setting. With other people. You pushed against Jumin's chest, looking around you in a frenzy. Ginevra was long gone along with the Chairman and Mr. Lorenzi. It was just the two of you, it looked as if it was after hours for the dining here. Soft jazz still played melodically through quiet speakers. Your eyes met back again with Jumin. He was smirking, still breathing heavily, his eyes glowing with mischief and a clear message that said something you probably would blush saying out loud. You laughed a little at the sudden turn of events. Did he like you? You wondered. He made quick work of dragging you (because your legs turned into jelly) out of the dining hall and back to his hotel suite. Jumin hurridely opened his hotel door before slamming you against the wall and continued to kiss you furvently on your neck, chest and of course, lips. He began to grind on you, letting out a soft curse when you mewled in his ear. Both your cheeks were completely red from the heated exchange and the embarrassment that both of you felt at your candid feelings. Yet something still bothered you. You pushed him away with all the strength you had because he was just so addicting. "J-jumin.... wait..." You gasped between breaths, "...I-I don't do this sorta thing... for fun..."  Jumin frowned at this, his jaw feathering as he said darkly, "I don't either."  You shook your head, "No, Jumin... I mean... I-I......" You took a big breath of air, "I'm in love with you. Have, for long time... pretty sure you don't feel .... the same wa--"  Jumin's eyes narrowed as he dove in for another kiss with so much force that the air was nearly knocked out of you. "Y/N," he began, "Do you have any clue how much I've held back? Even now, do you know how hard it is for me not to pick you up and fuck you right here and now? Do you know how long--" He laughed sardonically, "Y/N, I swear you're doing this on purpose."  "Doing wha--" "Making me fall deeper and deeper in love with you! I'm already pass the point of no return. Hell, I've never felt a fraction of what you make feel in a moment... in my entire life."  You took a moment to really look at him. The expression of complete and udder desperation was now clear as day on his face, his cheeks flushed, breathing heavily, his tie loose around his neck, chest slightly exposed. He began again, "Please. Please... put me out of my misery. Say you're mine, please."  Your eyes never leaving his, tears prickling your eyes, you answered, "I always was Jumin.. and I always will be. And, and if the offer still stands--" You blushed, looking down shyly and your feet, ashamed of your own boldness.  Jumin's eyes pooled impossibly darker as he picked you up and led you to his bed, laying you down gently and asking, "I know this is probably soon but... Y/N, will you make me the happiest man on earth?"  You laughed, pure joy on your face as you shamelessly cried, "Yes!" over and over again.  Jumin couldn't hold back the huge grin that took over his face as he kissed you in between laughs.

TRANSLATIONS: * “Do you speak French?” ** “You are just too cute.” *** “She will also have a lot of cream in her coffee.”  **** “It is so nice to see a couple on their honeymoon”

#jumin han #jumin x reader #mystic messenger jumin #han jumin #mm jumin #jumin fluff #jumin #jumin fanfic #jumin x mc #jumin x you #mystic messenger #myseme #mysme #707 mystic messenger #mystic messenger zen #mystic messenger 707 #mystic mess #mystic me #mm fanfiction #mystic messenger fanfic #mm fandom #yoosung fanfic #mysme fanfic #jaehee kang #mystic messenger jaehee #mm jaehee #zen #seven zero seven #zen x reader #zen route

[smallblip]

Forever Fifteen

Levihan | Part I of Good Bones | written for Levihan Week 2021- Memory (day 6)

It’s on Ao3! https://archiveofourown.org/works/33635872

“Hello stranger…”

Hanji doesn’t have to look behind her to know who it is. Already, she’s pulling a cigarette case from the inner pocket of her jacket. She holds one out to her side, and with a brush of cold fingers against hers, it’s gone. Her heart beats out of her chest.

Oh be still! We’ve been through this before! This should be as mundane as- doing the laundry.

She turns to face him, scanning him from his nice dress shoes to the way his hair is slicked back, an exaggerated simper on her face.

“What’s a handsome stranger like you doing in a place like this?”

He scoffs. “The party’s not over yet…”

“I know…” she replies, tilting her head to get a better look at her company. “I’m just watching…”

He follows her gaze to the courtyard below the balconies, to where Jean is sitting with Mikasa. Just- talking.

“Happened right under our noses…” Hanji chuckles. Oh right… she mutters when Levi gestures for the light. There’s a little fumbling because of Hanji’s penchant for pockets, but she finds the box of matches eventually. She strikes one and holds it close to Levi. A bright little light that burns embers into the greys of his eyes. The dark circles under his eyes have made a permanent home under his skin, and there are now lines carved into the shadows. When did those get there?

As always, Levi is the first to look away.

“You wouldn’t happen to have anything to do with that would you?” He raises a brow.

Jean is now laughing at something. Levi clicks his tongue in annoyance. In the many years he has known these damned kids, he hasn’t once laughed at anything Mikasa has to say. Jean must be a fool then. Jean is a fool because he listens too well to Hanji. Listens when she tells him he should go for it if that’s what he wants. Tell her a good pickup line, swap a few jokes, share a little fruitcake. Easy.

Hanji gasps dramatically, “as Commander of the Survey Corps, I would like to remind you that I am well aware of the policy against fraternisation!”

“That never stopped you…” Levi answers. But oh it has. The people who knew them as lovers are now dust. And now the rumours speak for them, past prefixed to lovers as a way to explain the familiarity, as a way to grow the distance.

Oh it has stopped them.

“Never stopped you either… If only they knew the great Captain Levi wrote crazy ol’ Hanji Zoë a love letter in his youth…” Hanji chuckles, a little too brave so it must be the alcohol, because she feels anything but brave lately. Her laughter is a little too bright for the night. A little too beautiful and familiar that it makes Levi smile. There’s a spray of pink on his cheekbones. The thought of people knowing the details is mortifying to say the least. But no one will know. This secret will be buried in a shared grave. A cosy little grave that gets a little damp in the summer. But they’ll brave the heat. Good things happen in the sun. Good for the linens too. Just- not good enough to untether the smell of Hanji’s skin from the fabric of his sheets.

“Do you remember what was in that letter?” She continues.

He doesn’t look at her now. His gaze is fixed on Jean’s fidgeting and he thinks of his own attempts at romance. His own little love story that blossomed beautifully and died tragically as they grew older. When they were put in charge for lives outside their own. When Erwin had named Hanji the next in line for the cursed role of Commander. One last night with her. One kiss and a handshake and a- hello stranger, my name is Hanji Zoë.

Levi. He had replied, just Levi.

He remembers Pyxis’ smug little “maybe your boyfriend can help with the mission” and Hanji’s vacuous, unthinking “oh he’s not my boyfriend anymore…”. The look on Pyxis’ face had been one for the books- a genuine surprise from coming by two pieces of information. So they are exes. The rumours were true. Menacing Levi and Kooky Zoë. Levi had launched a kick at Hanji’s shin under the table. Never in Levi’s life had he wished so much for the earth to swallow him whole.

“No…”

He says. It’s not lying if she knows what he really means. If she can tell, between each drag of her cigarette, what he’s thinking.

And she can. Oh she can.

He lets the memory dance across his eyes. That night at the pub, two kids puffing out their chests so they wouldn’t rouse suspicions (not that people care much in the Underground), listening to the men sing songs about love. Oh what Levi would give be young again. To look at Hanji, really look at her for the first time and have his mind play static on loop. To realise that for the rest of his life he’ll only be mesmerised by her.

She chuckles. Another drag of her cigarette, two taps to watch the ash drip. A wink.

“We must be getting old then, Levi…” She says, “in a few years we’ll be a couple of old prunes, you and I…”

Levi smiles at her. He’s never really thought about the mechanics of growing old. But he thinks the image is nice. Of Hanji tracing pruny fingers along the length of his pruny skin where the crescent scars sit in the leather of his skin. And he’ll remind her of the time when they kids, because that’s what old couples do right? Tease each other endlessly, talk about the ambiguity of the good old days, reminisce over long walks? Levi wants the complete works. He laughs to himself, a private little joke that simmers to a murmur-

Four-eyed prune…

It’s a little later when Hanji decides maybe it’s time to stop eavesdropping and get back to the party. The musicians announce the last dance of the night. The trumpets trail after the saxophone and the sound is something grand. And Hanji asks Levi if he wants to dance, because she’s a sucker for romantics, even though she’ll never admit it. And she knows Levi is too. And Hanji thinks life must still be pretty sweet if she’s dancing with her ex lover with a sea of memories between them and the abject refusal to explicate the boundaries of exes. Because it’s hard to forget. Because it’s hard to wash your lover’s scent from your sheets. No matter how hard you scrub, no matter how much the sunlight eats at the fabric and bleaches it. So much so that Hanji thinks it’s all in her head. The smell of his skin, the taste of cigarettes on his tongue- he only smokes with her, only with her- the ghost of his breath against the shell of her ear.

And Levi’s heart is beating out his chest.

Oh be still! We’ve been through worse! We scrubbed at the sheets until our fingers were raw and pruny, remember?

But with Hanji it’s hard to catch a break. He knows. He’s dealt with this for so long that he doesn’t even flinch when she tells him-

“You’re my best friend, Levi…”

But she recognises all the signs. The slight twitch of the corner of his lips, the creasing of the skin between his brows, the sadness in his eyes so bright that she has to avert her gaze.

“Do you tell all the boys that when you dance with them?”

He answers. And she hears the rhythmic grate of the sheets against the washing board.

Forgetting is hard.

“I don’t dance with other boys…” She replies, channeling Hanji Zoë at fifteen- was it sixteen? Seventeen? Eighteen maybe? Hanji Zoë who would sneak into the boy’s barracks to make out with her boyfriend in the dead of night and scurry back under the sheets before anyone found out. “You know I like you the most…”

“Good…”

He says. And he’s Levi- a few years older than she had been, a little too curt, a little too much misplaced possessiveness, thinking to himself that maybe love isn’t so icky and banal. Thinking maybe this is what his mother had promised him. This is all that’s beautiful.

He leans his chin against her shoulder, wrestling against the caution thrown at his beating heart.

Let them talk. Let them say we were lovers in a past life. Because that’s all we are.

Hanji presses her temple against his. The familiarity is jarring in all the ways a stain is. Bright mustard yellow against white cotton, evidence of a split second stupid decision to eat on the duvet. This is a cumulation of mustard moments then- a stain so big the entire world turns yellow.

“I like you the most too…” Levi says, voice low like this is a secret. Like as if the whole of Paradis Island doesn’t already know.

Hanji chuckles, and the vibration that spreads from her bones to his makes him blush. He knocks his temple against hers. Stupid Hanji. Stupid mustard stain.

“Liar…” she laughs. The word is a breath that caresses his cheek. But she knows him- this boy Erwin collected from the underground city. He got under her skin and she proceeds to make it her job to get under his. She had greeted him with scars on his forearm and in return, she walked away with a bruised eye, a broken nose, and an epiphany. And in the years after- the good years- they do what every teenager would do-

fuck around and fall in love.

Levi pulls apart, and in that moment, his lips brush against her neck- fleeting casualness befitting a hey big idiot. It’s the hottest day in the history of mankind but I’ll brave the stickiness to kiss your sweaty neck. Befitting a lifelong stain of a crush on a stain of a human being that will never quite go away.

It’s hard to forget.

Hanji watches as Jean crosses the hall back to where Connie and Sasha are. A sheepish grin plastered on a bright red face. The two tease him endlessly and as always, Jean swats them away, trying to maintain his cool. Hanji knows nothing really happened, but his reaction can only mean hopeful possibility. She smiles.

“Hey, do you think we would’ve worked out?”

Hanji asks when they’re walking back to the barracks, her jacket concealing a few bottles of alcohol. The other bottles have found their way to Levi’s reluctant hands. They’ve been through this before. It’s okay now. After all, comfort is a stained duvet. Soon, she’ll have to bid him farewell with a goodnight, stranger. But for now, Levi answers without looking at her.

“Yeah…” he replies, matter of fact, “we’ve got good bones…”

Oh be still! Hanji feels betrayed that her heart- a wretched thing so broken- still beats the same for him- this beautiful stain of a human being. This moment is living, breathing nostalgia. What had they been before one another? Menacing Levi and Kooky Zoë. How could anything bad ever happen to them. She grins at him.

“The best…”

#levihan #lhw2021 #levihanweek2021 #day 6 #memory #Levi x hange #Levi x Hanji #Levi Ackerman #Hange Zoë #my fic #mine #levihan fanfic

[angelssdecay]

Why Xiao isn’t just some edgelord, an essay by yours truly (or: I need sleep)

Before you read!! 

This was mainly written because I kind of got tired of Xiao being labelled as ‘edgelord’ a lot of times and while I have nothing against it when it’s jokingly said (after all I call Childe a ‘clown’ all the time or Klee ‘Arson child’ haha, you get what I mean) I also feel like him getting meme’d as that leads to a lot of mischaracterization. I’m not here to attack anyone or anything!! Just sharing my personal thoughts about him influenced by his canon lore in game + headcanons I developed while writing fics for him. I hope you don’t mind my brainrot.

-            I suppose that a lot of Xiao’s characterization as an ‘edgelord’ comes from his wildly dark history and the way he expresses himself (like growling when he’s thinking about his past memories) that is quite different from other characters in Genshin when he’s not like this because he wants to but because he’s been shaped by his trauma that reaches wide into the past and the fact that he doesn’t belong in the human world   -          he is stuck in the mortal world while having to defend it from otherworldly beings and forces that threaten to destroy the fragile balance between both worlds, and it’s a task he fulfils with pride because it was given to him by Rex Lapis, the god who saved him from his former master – 

-          an evil deity who had abused and used him and forced him to commit atrocities that still haunt him to this day; he never wanted to kill, he never wanted to have to take away someone’s dreams but he was helpless to resist and in the end he stained his hands with so much more blood than he ever wanted to   -          taking his trauma and the way he talks about it and labelling it as ‘edgy’ is plain disregarding towards the pain he went through in his early years when his innocence was stolen from him and then utterly destroyed until Rex Lapis saved him and gave him his life back, a duty he can be proud of and the chance to regain a bit of his former gentleness because that’s who he is deep inside: a kind and gentle soul that never wants to hurt anyone

  -          not to mention the trauma he experienced by having to watch the only family he ever had, the other Yakshas, perish one after another – whether it was because they were consumed by the darkness they fought and killed one another or because they died in battle – he wasn’t able to save any of them and while it’s never talked about in-game lore I doubt that their deaths didn’t leave a mark on him that lasts till today. To be heralded as the last Yaksha is surely not a title that Xiao is proud or happy about.   -          to get to his character trait of him usually keeping his sentences curt and to the point (like his good morning line ‘’We're wasting time. Let's go.’’) and him growling when he thinks about his sorrowful past that probably made people label him as edgy – does it really surprise anyone that he doesn’t talk like humans from Teyvat talk when he’s a) not human and b) has spent almost all of his life in solitude?   -          which would obviously lead to him being extremely used to dealing with emotions and humans; despite having such a kind and selfless heart (more to that later) but he’s just not used to conversing with humans - mainly because Adepti need to keep their distance from humans lest their adeptal energy will harm them   -          when Xiao kept his distance from humans all these years, it was for their own good (something he says during the first meeting with the traveller and something I think he firmly believes in because past encounters with humans never went well for them and again, he doesn’t want to hurt anyone and certainly not humans)   -          and while he’s gotten used to living in solitude I don’t think he actually enjoys having to live like this – he’s incredibly lonely and suffers from it - and just like every living being he longs to have someone to talk to and who understands him, even appreciates him although this is something he wouldn’t dare to wish for because it’s something that can’t be fulfilled (Lumine: sikes you thought you can stay alone forever, yeah too bad for you I’m here for you now)   -          it was stated in the article about Xiao and his creation process how curious he is about the human world despite trying to hide it from others (and himself too because longing for something you can’t have or take part in hurts like hell and god knows he’s experienced enough in his life) -  but it doesn’t mean he doesn’t yearn to experience those feelings of warmth and love that most humans as well   -          and when I say love I don’t necessarily mean romantic love although I don’t count it impossible for him (though it would take a long time for him to break down his own walls and find the courage to love and be hurt, and I think abrupt love confessions would frighten him because he simply never experienced it before – a life of bloodshed and battle certainly don’t help with understanding his own or other hearts)   -          no, what I mean are the different kinds of love he’s seen humans share with each other – a mother’s love when she puts her child to bed with a goodnight kiss, a friend’s platonic love when they hug their friend who’s sad or simply out of joy – it’s all things he never got to experience for himself but secretly longs to experience as well (fight me on that because I’ll die on that hill)   -          and this also leads to me firmly believing that he doesn’t hate humans no matter how often he ‘mocks’ traditions and customs – it’s mainly to hide his own curiosity and longing to join them knowing that he doesn’t belong with humans. But he certainly doesn’t hate them no matter his words because you can’t guard and protect someone without loving and caring for them. If he truly despised humans he would have never risked his life and soul for as long as he has to protect them.   -          and he knows that he will never receive any gratitude for the suffering he endures, nor that anyone will pray to him, or even pray for him to come home from battle safely – all he has left by now is himself and his duty he proudly continues to fulfil to honour his fallen comrades and his contract with Zhongli – and yet he keeps fighting such a thankless and seemingly endless battle without any complaints or lamenting his cruel fate; if that isn’t kindness then I really don’t know anymore   -          not to mention that if he truly was an ‘edgelord’ he’d be lamenting his cruel fate or curse at everything for forcing him to live such a life devoid of any warmth and joy – but he doesn’t. Because no one survives thousands of years with a heart full of hatred and no one understands that better than him who has fought against the lingering wrath and hatred of fallen gods.   -          and while Xiao himself doesn’t believe that he is kind (after all both his hands and soul are stained by blood, he’s nothing more but a weapon or so he would say if someone told him he’s kind) it’s his selfless and devoted nature and his love for the simple things in life – a nice dish of Almond Tofu, flowers, the soft tunes of a flute - that make him such a gentle soul – he just doesn’t realize nor acknowledges that part of himself   -          so if someone loves him they have to love all the cracks in his soul and try to pour their light into them, be patient with him because it will take him a very long time to get used to all these feelings, to the reassurance that he is loved and also deserves to be loved, after all this is so foreign to him and very likely to frighten him but in return he will love unconditionally and be forever loyal as he is loyal to the land he continues to protect 

...and what more could anyone ask for, right?

#xiao #genshin xiao #character analysis #uh it's just my usual brainrot #please don't mind me #i'm a clown #genshin impact

[aminiatureworld]

Disappearance

Characters: Diluc, Razor, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,133

Warnings: Slightly claustrophobic

Premise: The line between small upsets and huge quarrels can be a blurred one, and it’s often difficult to cope with in the aftermath.

In which there is an argument and the reader disappears.

Author’s Note: Thank you for your request anon. I really cannot stay away from angst, and this was right up my alley. Poor characters, how I love to torture you.

I wasn’t sure if I was going to write Razor, he isn’t in my list of characters I’m comfortable with. For one thing I find his broken speech quite difficult to deal with. I can’t tell if I find it irritating or not, or if it’s an example of good characterization or the “savage” stereotype a la Tarzan – sorry Tarzan I don’t like you. But I tried to make the effort and I hope it came out well! Though I still don’t feel quite comfortable with writing him. I hope I handled the dialogue well enough. He makes me think of San from Princess Mononoke.

Diluc

Diluc accelerated his pace as the Winery came into sight, his normally serene face breaking into a small smile.

It was the best time of day, the time when he came home, the time when he could finally see you. The two of you had been a couple for about five months, and though it wasn’t the longest of time, it was certainly the happiest Diluc had been, happier even than when he was a child with a family to call his own. You were his family now after all, something that you reminded him when he was in his darkest moods. You were his family now, and nothing could tear that apart.

“Welcome home.” Your voice was warm with happiness, and you threw your arms around Diluc the moment he came through the door. Diluc reciprocated the embrace and for a moment the two of you simply stood in the landing, the picture of perfect happiness.

“I’ve missed you, beloved.” Diluc whispered.

“I missed you too.” You replied, smiling softly. Your smile slipped however, and was instead replaced with an expression of worry. “You were gone so late tonight, I was unsure if something had happened to you. Really, I was about to go after you.”

“Well I’m glad you didn’t.” Diluc replied, tone firm though not unkind. “We’ve talked about this before my love, if something were to happen to me, which it won’t,” he quickly added, seeing your gaze cloud over, “but if it did I wouldn’t want you to put yourself in danger. I fight for you as much as anyone else in Monstadt, and for you to be injured or worse on my part, I’d never be able to forgive myself.”

“I know we discussed it and came to that conclusion.” Your words were slow, deliberate in tone. “But though I agreed to it then, I found tonight that I regretted it more than anything I might ever do. I cannot bear the idea of you somewhere near, hurt and crying out for help or worse…” you swallowed, unwilling to conjure the image to mind, “…I couldn’t bear thinking that you might be in a bad way and with no chance of rescue simply because I made a foolish promise. And while I was thinking about this all I came to the realization that I could never truly keep that promise. If you’re ever in need I will be there for you, no matter what. No matter what you said, what you think, it is the simple truth.”

“Please don’t do that.” Diluc replied, voice quickly becoming filled with emotion. “If there’s something out there that could hurt me like that, then how –” he paused, realizing his mistake, but you’d already caught it.

“How could I possibly defeat it?” You replied, a grimace replacing your smile. “You cannot treat me like glass Diluc. I’m an adventurer, a warrior in my own right. And I won’t be kept from saving the one I love the most, not when the only thing keeping me from it is his pride and a few words.”

 The two of you said nothing more of it that night, but the argument hung in the air the next morning, continuing the awkwardness up until you left for your adventuring duties. Diluc did nothing to breach the gap. He was in the right after all. And besides, it was such a stupid little argument, barely one at that. In a day or two it’d be nothing, and then all would be well again.

This conclusion was sorely tested when you didn’t return to the Winery in the evening. As Diluc prepared himself for another night of patrol he began to worry slightly. Surely you weren’t avoiding him. About something so small? No, most likely you were simply late. You’d be there when he got home. If he was sure of anything he was sure of that.

Unfortunately Diluc was proven quite wrong. The doorway was empty at his arrival, you were nowhere to be found. A sinking feeling began to settle into his stomach, and Diluc found himself quite unable to sleep that night, instead tossing and turning this way and that, wondering if you were truly so angry over something that he’d seen as so small. It was the only logical explanation for your disappearance after all, though Diluc wasn’t sure what to do about it. Chasing after you seemed somewhat uncouth, and besides didn’t that always make things worse? No, he’d give you space, all the space you needed. If a week passed then he’d seek you out, but before then he’d let you be. No point in jeopardizing the relationship anymore than apparently he already had.

His promise to stay away for a week was nearly torn to shreds by the end of the next day. Were you truly so angry with him? How could he have hurt you so much? Diluc didn’t know what to do. During the day he tried to behave as always, keeping tabs on everything he could and busying himself as much as possible. At night, however, the feeling became more and more unbearable, and Diluc found sleep more fleeting than ever.

He kept replaying the argument, over and over again did he try to remember exactly what had happened. Was your tone of voice angrier than he thought? Was your expression darker? Had he been too curt, too dismissive, too demanding? What could’ve possibly caused you to simply disappear? It was unlike you; usually what arguments took place resulted in you trailing him more than anything else. Why was this so different? Turning onto his side once more Diluc closed his eyes. Tomorrow all would be well. Tomorrow you’d come back for sure.

You didn’t come back tomorrow, nor the day after that. Those days were some of the most anxious Diluc had felt since the immediate passing of his father. Work became unbearable, for words that one stood clearly on the page now swam before him, a sea of incomprehensible figures and symbols. Eating and sleeping too were utterly alien to him, and what those two days were mostly comprised of turned out to be him walking about in a stupor, too dazed and too worried to think about anything around him, anything other than you.

On the fourth day a knock came to his door, and with it came Katheryne of the Adventurer’s Guild. Her face was ashen, and she was fiddling with her hands. As Diluc gestured for her to sit down the anxiety that had been sitting in his stomach tangled itself into knots. What in the name of the Seven had happened?

“Master Diluc, we have some information, information involving your partner.”

“Yes?” Diluc’s voice was sharp and low, for he couldn’t bring himself to hide it. Collapsing into the opposite chair he tried to prepare himself for the worst, knowing that if you had left or, Seven forbid, been killed he’d never be able to move on.

“Well you see your partner, they went on an expedition, a commission rather. They were looking for bits of Noctilious Jade and Cor Lapis. Although these minerals are normally found in Liyue only there are a few reservoirs in Monstadt along the border of the two lands, specifically they can be found in certain caves behind the waterfalls that flood into the river. A merchant bought the rights to the land of one of those caves and, being a merchant, he couldn’t get it out himself, so we sent one of our own to mine it out for him, see if it was any good.”

“This is all quite fascinating,” Diluc replied, tone made sharp with worry, “but I can hardly see what this has to do with anything.”

“Your partner was the one selected. They went down to mine it but the entrance was the opening to a sharp drop and they fell down. We only managed to recover them this morning.”

The shock that ran through Diluc was something that he never wished to experience again. It seemed to pierce right through him, into the center of his heart. You’d been trapped. You’d been in need of help, stuck for days in the worst of possible situations, and he’d done nothing but loaf around the Winery. How could he forgive himself for something like that?

“May I see them.” He choked out, his throat constricted and burning.

“They are coming here right now. Thankfully injuries were minimal. Caves connected to water are the most dangerous kind, you can die and it can be impossible to retrieve your corpse. They were incredibly lucky.” And with that gruesome thought in mind Katheryne walked over to the door, opening it to reveal you.

Diluc had never moved so fast in his life. Instantly you were wrapped in his embrace. You returned the gesture just as fiercely, clinging on as if he was the only thing anchoring you, keeping you from collapsing from relief, from fatigue, from the terror that had yet to dissipate.

“Oh my love, oh I’m so sorry, so deeply sorry. Forgive me, forgive me for not being there. Forgive me.” Diluc whispered, practically incoherent. You were both shaking, and when you two collapsed in the chair closest to the fire there were no words for a good many moments. The terror you’d both felt was hardly over, and you both needed to be sure that this wasn’t a dream, that it was all over, and that you were going to be fine now.

“Diluc.” You finally whispered.

“Yes my love.” Diluc replied, a tremor still in his voice. You leaned into him, head perched on his shoulder, breath tickling his neck.

“I never want to quarrel again.”

Diluc reached over to cup your face. Raising your head slightly he leaned over, brushing his lips against yours, indulging in something he thought for a moment he might never be able to do again.

“Neither do I.” He replied, voice just as soft. “And remind me never to try to restrict you again, for if I’d not been such a fool I would’ve run to your side the very evening you were trapped.”

You smiled softly, expression conveying relief and tenderness and most of all love. Leaning in for another kiss you whispered something right before your mouth collided with his.

“I will follow you wherever you go.”

 Razor

Sitting at the edge of one of Wolvedom’s many cliffs, eyes trailed towards the far away walls of Monstadt, Razor wondered if he might’ve been too harsh.

It wasn’t that Razor wanted to quarrel with you, I mean you were the first and only person that he’d managed to build a sincere connection with. It was only that he’d grown up with a complete distrust of humans, and as much as he tried to bury that aspect of himself it still came to the forefront at times.

“I don’t understand what you’re so angry about Razor?” You’d exclaimed, face twisting into an expression of annoyance.

“Why do you like them?” Razor had replied, gesturing towards the people who had arrived with you, trampling their way through the forest as if everything belonged to them simply because they were human. He could practical smell the arrogance wafting off them, and it made his hair stand on edge. It was frustrating that he didn’t have the words to convey that to you.

“My guild members?” You’d said, glancing over your shoulder. “Razor I work with them. We’re going on a trip.”

“I want them to leave.” He’d practically growled, moving to take your hand in his. “I want them to leave, I want you to stay.”

“Well you can’t do that Razor.” You’d said, tone growing more and more exasperated. “And I don’t understand why you’re so hostile to them.”

“They’re human.” To Razor this was enough, but evidently the answer was hardly satisfactory to you.

“I’m human.” You’d pointed out, raising an eyebrow. Razor shook his head.

“You’re different.”

“No, I’m not. You just like me. And like it or not I’m a human, and a human who has a job to do. I can’t stay here, and I can’t stop talking to all other humans.

“Why not?” He’d shot back. “It would be better. Humans are bad creatures.”

“You keep forgetting who I am!” You’d exclaimed, shaking your head. “Whatever, I’m not arguing this with you. I’ll see you in a day. I hope that you can think about my feelings by the time this is over.”

Well the day had come and gone and there was no sight of you. Razor was too angry though to feel much remorse, no matter how much he missed you. You were probably busy anyways, talking to other humans, fraternizing with the enemy. For what else could humans possibly be? They cut down trees, killed the inhabitants of the forests. Even the wolves weren’t safe, for what farmer hadn’t taken a shot at one of them at some point in his life? No, Razor was not the one in the wrong. You were just too used to them. You couldn’t see it.

Still your absence sat wrong with him, and he found himself scouring the edges of Wolvendom the next day, trying to figure out what had happened. It wasn’t as if you didn’t know what he thought after all. And surely you wouldn’t abandon him so quickly, surely.

Razor was hardly so sure when the sun went down the next night. It seemed you were well and truly gone, though where he couldn’t tell. Maybe you really had decided to abandon him, decided he was too much of a burden, decided you preferred humans anyways. The thought ate at him, and he found himself walking around with a bitter taste in his mouth, unsure what to do.

Razor wasn’t sure what finally caused him to cross out of Wolvendom to look for you. Perhaps it was anger, perhaps it was guilt, perhaps it was that he at least wanted to say goodbye. No matter the cause however he still found himself walking on an unfamiliar path, as the woods shifted to plains. He felt vulnerable, uncomfortable without his familiar family. But it was too late to turn back now, and so he pressed ahead.

All sense of discomfort faded away upon running into you. You looked the worse for wear, covered in dirt, your clothes ragged. For a moment Razor wondered what could’ve possibly caused this. Perhaps there was a creature out there he was not aware of. Running up to you he wrapped his arms around you.

“You’re hurt.” It was more of a question than a statement, and you seemed to understand that. Returning the hug you sighed slightly.

“I was stuck in one of the shallow caves off of the Stormbearer Mountains. The passage we went through started crumbling, and I was the last one in line. It took some time to dig me out.” You laughed slightly, but there was a tremor in your voice, and you seemed ill at ease. “It was so dark in there Razor, so utterly dark. I couldn’t imagine being a creature down there, it all seemed to weigh down on me, and I thought it’d collapse and bury me at any second.”

Razor had tightened his embrace, the image seared into his mind. There was a visceral fear in his reaction, the fear of what you’d just described, but it was more complicated than that. To be down there himself was terrifying, but for you to be in that situation, and for so long, it stole the air from his lungs and weighed him down with such a sense of dread he could barely stand it.

“Humans sent you down there?” The tone of his voice was seething, but your reply was much calmer than it had been before.

“Yes. They did. But they also saved me Razor, you must remember that.”

It was something he hadn’t considered, and as he pulled away to look you in the face he pondered the implications. What he’d said was true, yes, but what you’d said was also true. They could’ve quite easily left you if they wanted, could’ve left you for dead and said there was nothing to do about it. Certainly some humans would’ve done just that, but they didn’t. Instead they helped you, for days they had dug, and thanks to that you were safe.

“I was wrong.” He said, tone straight, for it was a fact. He was wrong, at least about your people he was wrong.

“There are many evil people out there.” You said, expression pensive. “There are those who kill and rob and lie and think only about themselves. There are those who cannot see the world around them. But you can’t judge all of humanity by that. There are also those who care for every aspect of the world they can, who burden themselves with all the misfortune they see, so much it might break them. Humans are complicated Razor. So yes you were wrong, but I cannot say you were completely so.”

Razor said nothing, absorbing what you’d said. It was hard not think in black and white, something necessary sometimes for survival. But ever since you’d entered his life he wanted to try to understand you, even a little bit. And, especially after today, he’d do anything to make that effort a reality.

For though he understood little of humans and their ways he knew of one thing for sure. And that was the love he carried for you.

 Xiao

Looking back it was such a stupid argument. Of course all arguments seemed idiotic looking back after what happened. But if all arguments were stupid, then surely Xiao couldn’t’ve picked a stupider one to have.

“I wish you’d see me off at the bridge.” You remarked, strapping the last of your equipment into place. You were off to do another commission, something about recording a rare species of lizard and taking photographs of some rare luminous mosses, and once again the topic of goodbyes had come up.

“I’m saying goodbye now aren’t I?” Xiao tone was as brusque as ever, but this time you didn’t brush it off with your usual smile.

“I mean it Xiao.” You said instead, turning to look him straight in the face. “I know you don’t fraternize with people, I know that you consider it a result of the burdens you carry. I know that and I don’t ask you to go and set up shop in Liyue or some such thing. I do ask you though to simply be there when I leave the city. It would mean a lot to me to have you there when I step out into the wilderness, especially when I’m going to be gone for two days. Can’t you do this for me, at least this?” You searched his eyes, expression pleading, but Xiao simply scoffed and turned his head.

“Saying goodbye here should be enough. Besides, there aren’t any people here. Would you really want me to say goodbye surrounded by prying eyes?”

“No one is going to pry.” You pointed out, voice flat with annoyance. “And to answer your question, yes, yes I would like you to be there to say goodbye. I love you dearly Xiao, more than I have ever loved anyone, more than I ever will. But I cannot love you unequally. I don’t ask for much, but I am asking for this. Please say goodbye to me at the bridge.”

But Xiao merely scowled, shaking his head violently. Huffing you turned around, everything set and ready to go.

“Sometimes I don’t know why I put myself through this.” You muttered; stomping your feet ever so slightly, and slamming the door to the room behind you.

 Xiao’s sense of time was usually quite poor. To adepti days were more like minutes, and even months seemed as abundant as grains of sand. One of the things that had most surprised him about starting a relationship with you was how his sense of time was affected by it. The days with you were mere moments, and the days where you were gone dragged on and on, minutes replaced by endless boredom.

This time was no different, instead the feeling was exacerbated. Although the first two days were a blur, made meaningless by Xiao’s irritation over your final conversation, the moment the third day dawned and you were nowhere to be found time ground to a halt, and Xiao no longer became sure of what day it was, sure that a month must’ve passed instead of a few hours. You must’ve been more irritated than he’d thought.

Still the adeptus was full of pride, pride and principles. If you were staying away over something so petty so be it. He’d not be the one going after you, not when he was utterly within his rights. Why should he changed so over the request of a human? No matter how much he loved you a part of him chafed at the idea, and thus he did nothing, instead sulking the days away under the concerned eyes of Verr Goldet.

If he was filled with pride though, there was also anxiety. Day three came and went, then day four, then day five. When day six arrived Xiao’s will seemed to give up, and he spent his hours in a restless sleep, something highly unusual for the adeptus labelled the “Vigilant Yaksha”. It was if you had taken all his strength away, and what remained was nothing but anxiety and his quickly shattering anger. Surely nothing was worth this feeling of being eaten away by poison. Surely.

Night had fallen, and the moon had taken her silent vigil over the land. Xiao knew that he should get up, knew he should go after you. But it was as if he was chained to the mattress. His head was filled with static and he felt as if he were burning up. A headache had come on the moment he’d opened his eyes, and now he found he could do nothing but lay with his thoughts, each becoming darker by the moment.

He recognized the weight of your footsteps as soon as they came into earshot. Bolting up, all fatigue leaving him, he slammed open the door, taking the stairs two at a time until he finally came face to face with you.

If he was expecting something, it certainly wasn’t this. Though there was a smile on your face it was marred by the bandage on your forehead, and by the long gash on your arm.

“What happened?” The words came out in a rasp. “Who did this to you?” The weight had come back, and Xiao swayed slightly, feeling altogether faint, the range of emotions he was experiencing becoming overwhelming.

You pressed your hand to his chest, the other moving to cup his cheek. “No one did this to me.” You said, voice slightly hoarse. “One of the caves I was in collapsed, and I fell and hit my head while running away from the entrance. Thankfully it was nothing serious, and it only took them three days to get me out.”

Three days. The situation seemed torturous. Xiao was a creature of air, the mere idea of being beneath the earth was claustrophobic to him. It was to humans too, that he knew, knew from what he’d heard from Rex Lapis. The idea of you trapped underground, injured and unable to escape, it shook him to his very core.

Taking your hand in his he kissed your palm, silently thanking Rex Lapis and all the other archons for letting you come home. The situation, what you’d gone through, it was all crashing down on him. You were the most precious thing in the world, the one he loved most, the only person he would truly love, in all his years on this earth it would forever be that way. How could he take you for granted? Take your needs for granted?

“I’ll never fight with you again.” He whispered.

“I don’t know about that.” You said, smiling slightly despite it all. “Fights are hardly unheard of after all.”

“I won’t. Not about something so stupid. Not when…” he trained off for a moment, eyes clouding over. “… Anyways I won’t do it.”

“Does that mean you’ll say farewell at the bridge?” You asked, tone hopeful.

“I will.” Xiao promised. “I’ll do anything for you. For you are that which I love the most.” And leaning over to kiss you Xiao made a silent vow that he’d never let you go through anything like that. Never again.

#I never know the right time to post these #diluc #razor #xiao #diluc x reader #razor x reader #xiao x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #requested #scenarios #my writing