#first writers block for months- haven’t been able to finish my fics | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

shuadotcom · 3 years ago

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Big Bad Wolf | KNJ (M)

🔴 Summary: Your mom has always warned you not to venture too deep into the forest, for legend has it, in it lives vicious, man eating wolves. You’ve always listened to her words until one day when your love of animals gets the better of you and you end up in the woods, chasing after a wounded cat. When you stumble across a secluded cottage in the middle of the forest and meet one of these “Big Bad Wolves,” you learn that maybe not everything is as it seems.

🔴 Pairing: Wolf Shapeshifter!Namjoon x Human Female!Reader

🔴 Genre/AU: Angst, fluff, smut, fantasy, strangers to lovers

🔴 Rating: 18+ | R (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

🔴 Warnings: profanity, non-descriptive talk of murder, mention of guns/a gunshot wound, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, knotting, marking

🔴 Words: 19.7k 🥴

🔴 Note: It's finally here - my fic for @hobeemin's Bangtan Grimm Event!! The fairytale my fic is inspired by is Little Red Riding Hood. Full disclosure here, this is my first half human/half animal fic so to anyone that reads this that is much more seasoned with hybrid-esque fics, it’s not the same as others you probably have read lol.

Thank you soooo much to @lavienjin for this amazing banner!! ❤️❤️ ENORMOUS thank you to @playmetheclassics for literally being my hero and beta reading this chonker of a fic in a few hours after I finished it 🥰🥰

This fic has been a journey to say the least. Writer's block has had me in an absolute chokehold these past few months, but I'm so glad I was able to finally finish this! Please enjoy my longest fic to date 😂💖

“And what happens if you meet the wolves?”

“Your mom and dad haven’t told you? They’ll bring you back to their den, deep, deep in the forest, and eat you up!”

May, your neighbor’s daughter, stares at you, wide, brown eyes get impossibly bigger as her lips form a pout. She’s on the verge of crying when your mom and her girlfriend Angela come into the dining room where you’re sitting with the child.

“Y/n, stop scaring May!” Your mom scolds, moving into the kitchen.

“I’m not,” you shrug.

“She asked about the wolves, and I told her.”

“She said that if you go too far in the forest, they’ll snatch you up and tear out your throat!” Your mom gives you a pointed look at the child’s hysterical words.

“What? You told me those same stories when I was her age.”

“And Y/n isn’t exactly wrong,” Angela shrugs, taking a seat next to you at the kitchen table.

“Well, let’s keep those stories to her parents to tell and not traumatize her here, please,” you and Angela roll your eyes when she turns to May to calm her down.

It's true, though; your mom told you the story of the man-eating wolves that live in the forest when you were old enough to properly comprehend cause and effect. You grew up with the idea that if you ventured too far into the forest, especially at night, then you were more or less asking for death.

On top of that, Angela was also a member of the wolf force, and she and your mom have been dating since you were in high school, so you heard plenty of stories about wolves and what they did.

From what you learned growing up, the town you’ve lived in all your life was almost invaded years ago by these wolves, and many people were murdered. The town nearly became devoid of any humans until a few brave citizens formed a separate branch of the existing police force specifically to fight off these monsters. Many of the wolves were killed to protect the town, while the rest fled into the forest where it’s rumored they’ve lived all these years.

Some people have been dumb enough to go into the forest at night out of curiosity or because of dares, and they either come back into town with tales of sharp teeth and half-human half-monster creatures, or they go missing and are presumed dead. It’s something you’ve mostly believed for years, but something about it has always sat oddly with you, but you’re not about to be the one who tests this theory, to be sure.

Once May is calm and goes back to her coloring, your mom takes a few steps into the kitchen to begin making lunch before she goes to the hospital for work. Your phone on the table lights up, diverting your attention to it, and you see a text from your best friend on the lock screen.

Jin: Can I come over?

You don’t even get to reply before you hear your front door opening and Seokjin’s loud voice ring through the house.

“Good afternoon ladies!” Your best friend since birth comes waltzing into the kitchen with nearly too much energy.

“I don’t know why you bother to text me when you’re just gonna bust in here as if you live here.” You say to Seokjin as he hugs your mom and Angela and moves to pick May up.

“It’s called being polite, Red. Not that you’d know about that of course.” He sticks his nose up at you and goes back to giving attention to May, asking what she’s coloring.

Seokjin has been dead set on calling you Red since you first started dying your hair in high school, and even now, when you’re both so close to thirty, he keeps doing it. You don’t mind so much anymore, but when he’s being smart with you, he always says it in the sassiest way.

As if sensing the snarky comment about to come out of your mouth, your mom interjects, asking Seokjin if he wants lunch.

“Oh, no thank you. I just came by to say hi. I’m on my way downtown to see my dad. He and grandpa are finally letting me do a night patrol with them today!” Angela high-fives him at the good news, but you can’t help but taunt him.

“Wow, it only took you like ten years.” You murmur to annoy him. It works, of course.

“Hey! It takes time to get trained for night patrol, thank you very much!”

“Yeah, yeah. What is there to train for? Aren’t you just walking around town making sure no wolves get in?”

“You have to be trained in combat and weaponry, silly girl. You can’t just go limbs and guns flying at a wolf with no proper knowledge. They’ll eat you alive.” He argues, looking to Angela for confirmation, who nods.

“How do you know?” you challenge. “You’ve never even seen a wolf.”

“My father has! And he told me all about it. The cold, stale feeling that overcomes your body. The way your blood feels like it’s frozen in your veins. Your body shakes as you stare into those evil, glowing red eyes while it bares those sharp teeth at you, canines glistening with blood under the moonlight.

Your heart stops, and your life flashes before your eyes. After that, you only have but a second before the creature comes charging at you, and you draw your weapon. The silver bullet has to pierce its head or its heart to assure that you take the monster down. It’ll tear you limb from limb otherwise and make sure you’re alive for every agonizing second until it’s ready to pull your head from your shoulders and eat your still-warm flesh. You need to train.”

There’s a pregnant pause, and the whole kitchen is still as you digest Seokjin’s words.

Poor May, still in his arms, starts bawling, and your mom rushes to comfort her, scolding Seokjin in the process.

“Damnit, Seokjin, I just calmed her down!”

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, handing her to your mom before saying his goodbyes and heading out.

“Oh, Y/n,” Your mom mentions as May finally settles down. “I need you to go see your grandmother before it gets dark. She's been hounding me to bake my banana bread for her, and I finally remembered. Angela and I are both working nightshifts tonight, so we don’t have time.”

You groan in response. “But I was going to meet up with Victoria and Chaerin today!”

“And now you’re taking bread to your grandmother. Victoria and Chaerin will be around tomorrow. Now I’ve got to finish making a quick lunch, and you get ready to go before sunset.”

You wait until she turns around to let out a quiet sigh. Grabbing your bag in the foyer and the bread from the kitchen, you head outside, calling goodbye to everyone over your shoulder.

With no car, you wheel your bike from the garage and take off down the sidewalk on it, heading towards the forest line and the path out of town. You need to do more saving up to move out on your own. Babysitting the neighborhood kids makes a small dent in your savings account along with what you make at Seokjin’s mom’s bakery, but it wasn’t enough to leave again.

After high school, you had gotten out of town. You went to college away from your suburban neighborhood, having been antsy to start over somewhere else and start on the journey to becoming a veterinarian. You were in school on a scholarship, but after your freshman year, when your grades began to drop due to getting much more overwhelmed by college than you thought you would, your scholarship was gone. You were moving off campus and into an apartment in the city with some roommates you found online.

You only stayed with them for a year before moving out as fast as you could. Between their messiness, inconsiderateness, and overall unpleasantness, you packed up and left as soon as the lease was up. The part-time job you worked at the coffee shop didn’t leave you with enough to get another place, and with no other vacancies nearby, you reluctantly moved back home.

Your mom was more than happy to have you back home and all of your friends who were still there, Seokjin included, welcomed you back, and things picked back up like normal, but you were different. You still want out, and you’re going to work as hard as you can to make that happen.

Having forgotten your headphones at home, it’s just you and your thoughts as you ride through the forest. It’s still mid-afternoon, so you’re not worried as you ride. Your grandma lives about thirty minutes away by bike, longer if you take your time, but you were moving fast. You don’t have any more babysitting jobs for the rest of the day, and the bakery is closed today, so you’re eager to get back home and continue your day.

Eventually, you cross the bridge-covered river that separates your town from the next one over that your grandma lives in. You don’t remember why she moved, only that she lived with you and your mom after she retired from her nursing job at the town hospital.

One day in high school she announced she’d be moving a town over. You recall your mom not being thrilled, there was a big argument, and she stopped talking to her for a while before they made up as best as they could, but their relationship didn’t feel the same. You’ve tried to get either of them to tell you what happened repeatedly, but they deny you every time.

You arrive at your grandma's in record time, parking your bike and having enough time to have bread and tea with her while she goes on with a story about her neighbor she has a crush on.

“Speaking of crushes, how is Seokjin?” She asks once her story is over and the question has you choking on your tea.

“What does he have to do with crushes?!”

“Oh come on, Y/n. The two of you have been inseparable since you were children. Plus, you’re getting older now. Have you ever thought of seriously moving along with him?” Your grandma shrugs but eyes you carefully.

“Grandma, I’ve told you, and mom, and his parents and, everyone else in this town that Seokjin and I are just friends. We’ve never had any remotely romantic feelings for one another, okay?” You assure her for what feels like the thousandth time.

This is only partially true. There was a brief time where you once thought you liked Seokjin but couldn’t imagine being romantic with him. You kissed once when you were playing house as kids, and it was awkward. You kissed again at a party in middle-school and it was still weird. He told you in high school that he’s always liked you, but you had to turn him down. He’s handsome and a great guy, but you're just not attracted to him. He’s like a brother to you.

“Besides, Seokjin just joined the wolf force officially so he definitely wants to stay here. You know I want out.”

She hums, sipping her tea. “I know you do, honey. And you know you’re always welcome here.”

“I know, but I want to go back to the city. No one else is interested in leaving town, let alone going that far out, so I’m just focusing on that for myself. I’m not even thinking about dating anyway.”

“That’s fair. I won’t ask you about Seokjin like that anymore, promise.”

You thank her and finish the rest of your tea before bidding her goodbye. The sky is now orangey-pink which means you’ve got to hit the trail.

With a hug and another reminder that her doors are always open, you’re off, able to ride much faster without the task of protecting a baked good. You’re thankful for this as the feeling of eyes on you stays on you the whole ride home until you break through the clearing and are back in town with the houses and voices of people you know around you.

As the rest of the week crawls by, you live your mundane life, as usual, working, saving up, hanging out with Seokjin and the rest of your friends, and doing nothing extraordinary.

When your grandma is in bed with a nasty cold, you ride to her house with soup and medicine and stay until the sun begins to set and darkness starts to fall. Your grandma is plenty independent for her age, but even the worst cold has her bedridden for a few days.

Once she’s eaten and taken her medicine, you bravely say goodbye, and don’t let her see the way your eyes widen to scan the darkness outside as you sprint to your bike and move your legs as fast as they’ll go. You ride in silence, staying vigilant of your surroundings the whole ride. The sun has finally set when you can see the lights from the houses in town approaching as you push your legs harder.

You’re so close to leaving the forest when out of the corner of your eye, you see a flash of something fast and big. Your bike screeches to a stop as you listen carefully, and you hear nothing for a beat before your ears pick up the sound of snapping twigs and leaves. Turning to the other side of the trail, you stare into the darkness, not seeing much of anything until you see a pair of glowing yellow eyes staring at you. Neither you nor the eyes move or blink.

A wolf. A wolf is staring at you in the darkness of the forest at night. You know what it is, and yet, you’re frozen. Time seems to move slowly, and before you know it, the eyes disappear as you listen to the wolf retreat, leaves crunching under its feet.

Once you’re home, you barely register the way your mom yells at you for being in the forest when it’s dark. All you think about is those yellow eyes boring into yours, seemingly into your soul. You don’t say anything in response, choosing to apologize to your mom until she decides it’s good enough and stomps to her room.

Of course, you didn’t mention what you saw - she’d lock you in your room, being a full-grown adult be damned. Looking at your phone, your finger hovers over the call button on Seokjin’s contact, but you decide not to. You do the same with Chaerin and Victoria before putting your phone on your nightstand, calling no one. Seokjin would immediately call a search party into the forest to hunt the thing down, while your other two closest friends would either freak out and push you to tell someone or tell the wolf force on your behalf.

You came face to face with a wolf, so why did it run away and not eat you? If the stories you’ve heard were correct, it should’ve snatched you right up and dragged you to its lair. You can’t make sense of it no matter how many times you wrack your brain, but something tells you not to tell anyone. The wolf didn’t harm you given the chance, so you won’t harm it, you decide.

The next day, after receiving another scolding for staying out after dark by your mom and Angela, you go to work at Mrs. Kim’s bakery. She gave you the job when you first came back home from the city and even if it didn’t pay that well, you were grateful to have something. There are worse things than working around delicious baked goods all day, after all.

With last night’s incident still fresh in your mind, you breeze through the day, and before you know it, you’re clocking out in the early afternoon and heading home. You have to babysit a boy down the street tonight while his parents are out, so you want to get home and take a power nap beforehand.

“See you tomorrow!” You call to Mrs. Kim as you go out the back of the bakery to throw the trash out on your way.

Before you throw the garbage into the can, a rustling of bags startles you. Hesitantly you approach the overturned trash can to find a sleek black cat rooting through it.

“Well, hi there,” you coo at the cat who jumps and hisses at you. You apologize for startling it and offer a piece of the bread Mrs. Kim sent you home with. Hesitantly, the cat’s tiny pink nose twitches enough that it makes its way over to you, limping as it comes.

Holding the bread away from you, you observe the way it tries not to put a lot of weight on its right front paw. Once it gets in front of you, its tiny teeth nibble at the bread in your hand, and you let it take the piece from you and set it down to continue to eat.

“Poor baby,” you murmur while the cat hunches down. and you get a better look at its injured paw, looking as though it got some crusted blood on it.

When the bread piece is gone, the cat looks at you and the loaf in your hand almost expectantly. It’s hungry but still weary, so you waddle backwards, a little further away, and tear off another piece, tossing it to the cat. It limps over to eat that piece, and you repeat this process with it, all the way to the short distance of your front porch, which is only walking distance away.

While the cat finishes the final piece of bread you’ve offered it, you rush inside for a small bowl of water and set it down near you. After the bread piece is gone, the cat goes straight for the water, lapping enthusiastically while still nursing the injury.

As gently as you can, your hand creeps closer to the cat, finger grazing the injury. In response, the cat leaps backward, staring at you with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry!” You apologize and watch the cat dart away. “Wait, come back!” You sprint after it, both confused and impressed at how fast it’s moving with an injury.

You keep moving though, faltering slightly at the fact that you’re leaving your neighborhood and entering the forest behind this black ball of fur, but it’s still daytime, so you continue. The cat lets out some heartbreaking wail, no doubt in pain from running, but it doesn’t stop. You keep up as best you can because you know that it’ll stop eventually.

Unsure of how long you’ve been pursuing the cat, you realize eventually that quickly approaching in front of you is no longer thick trees but a small cottage instead.

The small house is two stories and looks like one of the wood and stone cottages you’d find in an old fairytale. One of the windows on the second floor is open, and the chimney has smoke billowing out of it, so you know someone must be home. There’s a small garden in front of it with tomatoes, greens, herbs, and a few other plants you can’t identify growing in it. The idea of someone living so far in the forest with the wolves leaves you baffled.

Even so, you know someone has to live here as you finally catch up with the cat as it meows and headbutts the front door. Cautiously you come up behind the cat as it watches you knock on the door, but it doesn’t run away.

You only have to wait a few seconds before the wooden door swings open and the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life is on the other side. He’s so tall and so broad with swept-back blonde hair. His tan skin almost glistens under the sunlight that peeks through the trees above, and when it hits his deep, chocolate eyes, you feel your breath catch in your throat.

He’s scowling at you, but his hard expression melts when his eyes flicker down towards the cat at his feet, headbutting his ankle. He smiles, pink lips turning up and dimples popping into his cheeks.

“Oh, Sugar, where have you been?” He coos, his deep, gravelly timber leaving you nearly trembling in front of this stranger. After scooping the cat up into his strong arms, the smile fades as he looks at you again and this change in expression has you remembering how to form words.

“H-hi. Is that your cat?”

“Yes.” He says, sounding hesitant.

“Well, um, I found it behind the bakery in the trash. I gave it some water and bread, and then I saw its paw is injured, but it ran here while I tried to help it.”

The gorgeous man eyes the cat, then you again. “So you ran after a cat that was fleeing from you and followed it into the woods?”

“I know it sounds dumb, but I’m a vet, well, I’m going to be a vet and I can’t just let an injured animal not get help.” You say sheepishly, realizing how foolish this all was after he recounted it.

The man hums in response and looks down at the cat in his arms as it blinks back at him. Without another word, he turns on his heel and goes back into his cottage, leaving the door open behind him.

Awkwardly, you stand there, weighing your options. Is it foolish to follow a strange man into his home who lives in the middle of the woods while no one knows where you are? Yes.

But he has an injured cat, and he looked at said cat with so much love that he can’t possibly be all that bad.

Against your better judgment, you gingerly step inside the cottage, leaving the door open behind you in case you need to make a quick getaway.

You aren’t sure what you expected, but the house seems completely normal upon walking through the foyer. The staircase in front of you looks normal. The room to your left looks to have a couch in it and a huge bookcase against the wall packed shelf to shelf with books. Glancing to your right, you see what looks to be a tiny dining room, and through that, the entrance to what you see is a kitchen.

The house is surprisingly cozy for being so small, and it feels warm and smells nice. So many questions are flying around your head, but the mystery man appears at the top of the staircase suddenly and startles you.

“Would you mind looking at his paw?” He seems genuine as he looks down at you, and even with a part of your brain screaming at how stupid you are, you go upstairs and follow the man into a bedroom.

“If you’re studying to be a vet you probably know way more about his injury than me.” There’s a bed in the middle of the room with the cat - Sugar - lying towards the edge, licking his good paw. The room is normal, with a dresser and some clothes thrown about, accompanied by many potted plants of all sizes littered throughout the room.

The man sits next to Sugar and scratches his back while you cautiously approach. The cat’s green eyes watch as you cross the room and sit next to him. He watches as you reach out and pick his paw up, letting you inspect it

“This isn’t serious.” You say with relief. “Looks like it’s a pretty shallow cut. It bled a lot, but it’s not deep. From the looks of it, it happened maybe yesterday, and the blood just dried up. A simple clean-up should be all he needs if he’ll let you.”

The man looks more at ease with your words and nods. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” An awkward silence hangs over the room, and you don’t know how to fill it. You have so many questions for the man out here all alone, but you don’t know how to ask without sounding intrusive. “I’m Y/n, by the way,” you finally blurt. “But everyone calls me Red.” You gesture towards your dyed hair.

The man visibly hesitates for a second. “I’m Namjoon,” he finally says.

Biting your lip, you try your best to formulate your next words. “Your house is beautiful. It seems so peaceful, but may I ask why you live out in the forest?”

Namjoon seems to flinch at the question, nostrils flaring before exhaling. “I like to be alone. I like the quiet. It’s safe.”

You have more questions on the tip of your tongue, but the atmosphere feels too tense for you to ask. You simply nod as in understanding before announcing that you need to get home before your mom comes looking for you. Namjoon walks you downstairs after you offer a sleeping Sugar a goodbye head scratch. You go to say goodbye but falter in the doorway.

“I, uh, I don’t know how to get back…” You trail off, eying the thick forest ahead.

“Oh. I’ll walk you.” He offers, leading you through the forest in what has to be the most awkward walk of your entire life. You ask him a few questions about his garden, to try and strike up a conversation, and you see his brown eyes light up. Namjoon goes on to tell you about his little garden, and how he loves being able to eat a lot of the things he grows, and how relaxing gardening is. He then mentions the plants you remember seeing in his room and how he has more around the house. He loves how comfortable and lively they make his quiet space and how they keep him company.

Namjoon seems to realize he’s gone off on a tangent and stops talking abruptly after mentioning that he wants to try and grow an apple tree.

“I admire people who love plants and gardening,” you say truthfully, so he doesn’t feel so awkward.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m great with animals and caring for them, but plants? Total plant killer. It’s probably because my mom is the same way. She’s tried, but everything potted has died in our house, and she passed the gene down to me.” You chuckle.

A small smile graces his lips in response. “It’s not that hard, I promise…” he trails off after that as if he is going to say something else but thinks better of it. He stops then, and you notice that the treeline is a few feet away, and you can see the lights from your neighborhood ahead.

“Thanks for walking me.” You smile at him, and he just barely returns it.

“You’re welcome.” He mumbles out before he turns and heads back toward his home.

After watching him go, you leave to prepare to go through the motions of making dinner for you, your mom, and Angela before they get home from work, but the only thing on your mind is Namjoon.

Namjoon is still occupying space in your mind, which is why two days later you find yourself venturing back into the forest on your day off. You were perfectly safe the last time, plus you feel much more fearless with the sun high in the sky. You don’t exactly remember where his cottage was, but you hope for the best, and what feels like an hour later, you finally see the roof of the small house.

You’re out of breath and feel warm from walking so much, but you’re happy to have made it. You spy Namjoon outside, crouching in front of his garden with his back to you. Sugar is on the small porch, lying on his back, but jumps up when he sees you. The black cat lets out a meow and beelines towards you, making Namjoon turn to see what it is.

“Hi, sweet boy,” you greet the cat, bending to pick him up and inspect the small gauze Namjoon has wrapped about the cat’s paw. Sugar reclines in your arms, purring as you walk over to his owner.

“You’re back,” is all Namjoon says when you approach.

“I am.” You don’t know what to say about why you’re here, but Namjoon doesn’t ask. “Need help?” You ask, nodding towards the garden.

“Know how to weed?”

“Nope.” You smile wide at him, and the man actually laughs, the sound making you flush for some reason.

“I’ll show you. I have an extra pair of gloves. Hang on.”

Namjoon walks into the house and returns quickly with a second pair of gardening gloves. You put Sugar down and take them. They feel comically big on you, but you don’t mind.

You crouch next to Namjoon as he explains what weeding is and why it’s important. You let him show you what to pull and feel giddy inside when he praises you for your successful pull on your first try.

The minutes tick on like this, helping Namjoon weed and water his garden before you pick the ripe vegetables and carry them inside with him. He offers you lunch, which you gladly accept.

The initial tension that seemed to consume Namjoon when you first met him two days ago has since melted in a more comfortable but still guarded aura. You’ve spent most of your time with him doing the talking, telling him about your family, your babysitting, and your job at the bakery. You explain how you’ve wanted to be a vet since you were a child; your love for animals and desire to help them always being present. Sadly, you also recount some good times you had in college and what happened as you had to leave and come back, now feeling trapped back in this town again.

Namjoon genuinely listens the entire time, nodding and offering commentary here and there at the right times. He seems comfortable just listening to you, but you want to know more about him.

When he sits down with you, you voice this, lunch of potato stew and rice between you both. “Well, what do you want to know?” He asks hesitantly.

“I don’t know. Why do you live so far out here alone? How long have you lived here, and why have I never seen you in town? Whatever you want to share. I know I overshare, which is why you got the first half of my autobiography after only meeting me once, but don’t feel obligated to share that much.”

Namjoon chuckles. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind getting to know you more, plus I don’t have much company really, so it’s nice to have someone so animated here.” He slurps a spoonful of soup after blowing on it. “I’ve lived here all my life - my whole family has until-” He stops himself and shoves more food into his mouth.

“So I’ve just stayed here. The solitude is nice. I only have to worry about Sugar and me. If I need anything like groceries or clothes, I go to the town over the bridge for it.” He shrugs, decidedly ending his short speech about himself.

As much as you want to pry, you don’t and instead make him tell you more about his books that you can see across the house in the living room. This gets Namjoon talking as he tells you how he’s read every book at least twenty times. It’s clear how much he loves reading, the fact that he doesn’t have a tv aside. He explains that he usually spends his evenings in bed with Sugar, a book or his journal, and the radio which is all he needs.

You admire how simple of a life Namjoon lives. This beautiful man lives independently with only his cat and a few essential things in the modern world, no school to worry about, no stress of people expecting something from him, and no real pressure of adulting.

After lunch, you offer to help him with any other house chores he has, and it takes a bit of begging to have him give in, and he begrudgingly accepts your help. Most of your time together is spent with you oversharing some more about your friends, and Namjoon tells you the story of how he found Sugar in the woods a couple of years ago and decided to give him a home.

You’re not sure how many hours have gone by, but once you’ve finally sat down for a glass of water, you notice the color of the sky and how the sun will be setting soon.

“I should go,” you say, ending a story about the senior prank you and Seokjin pulled in high school.

You may be seeing things, but you swear disappointment flickers across Namjoon’s face. “Okay. Do you need me to walk you back?”

“Nope, I know the way.” He walks you to the door, Sugar trailing behind. Biting your lip, you hype yourself up to ask your next question. “Is it okay if I come to hang out with you again in a couple of days? I have work tomorrow and the next, but I’ll be free on Saturday.”

“Sure,” he says hastily, clearing his throat afterward. “I mean, okay if you want. We’ll be here.”

“Okay. See you then.” You want to spend the rest of the evening standing here, taking in his beautiful features, but you know you’ve got to get home before dark. You have half a mind to ask Namjoon how he keeps safe out here in the middle of the forest with the wolves about, but he seems to be doing well considering he’s been here for years. You’ll ask him next time.

Venturing into the forest on your days off quickly becomes a habit. Some of your off days coincide with your mom’s days off from the hospital, so sometimes you end up spending time with her or Seokjin when he inserts himself into your home as usual.

On days you can get away from them and make excuses with your other friends, you find yourself in the forest with Namjoon, slowly learning more about plants and nature in general. He’s the first person you’ve ever met who loves all things green and natural. It gives you a new appreciation for the world around you.

Namjoon himself is so fascinating. He started as what seemed to you at the time, a timid man. This is still true, but as weeks with him turn into two months, you start to see more about him come out. He’s funny and can keep you laughing for hours. He’s so bright - the smartest person you’ve ever met, and that amazes you. He hates cooking but learned it for survival from his mother when she was with him.

You learn so much more about Namjoon, like his likes and dislikes (he’s never had mint chocolate chip ice cream but swears he’d hate it), while also still not knowing so much about him. The other layer to Namjoon seems to be a sad, secretive one. Whenever he brings up his family, he’s quick to change the subject, and you can see the way his expression shifts into a more melancholy one.

Even so, you can’t ignore the very real stirrings in your heart every time you see him smile or hear him laugh. You don’t deny the way your skin seems to tingle every time your hands brush when you take something from him, or your arm grazes his when you’re in the garden next to him. When it would happen at first, Namjoon would flinch away and make up an excuse, but as of late, he seems to keep his arm resting against yours or let his fingers linger over yours for a little while longer.

One evening when you’re going to leave, he asks if you want to stay and watch the stars with him.

“I promise, it’s a beautiful sight to see. Far away enough from town that you can even see constellations.”

You glance up at the quickly setting sun. It’s getting dark. As much as you’d love to, you can’t.

“I want to, but… I can’t. It’s getting dark, and I have to be home. The wolves, you know?”

An unreadable expression washes over Namjoon’s face. “The wolves.” He says flatly.

“Yeah, I mean I know you live out here and you’re safe, which I’ve never asked you about, but I’m sure you know the stories about them and what they do.”

“I do.”

“Right, so I’ve gotta head home.”

“Of course. Be safe.” Namjoon’s back in his cottage, door shut and locked without a goodbye

His tone was back to what it seemed to be when you first met him, but you don’t question him. As much as you enjoy spending time with Namjoon, he does get moody quite often, so you don’t think anything of it. At first.

The next few days you visit him, he doesn’t turn you away, but he seems to have reverted to being slightly standoffish towards you like he was when you first met him. It bothers you, and you want so bad to ask, but you don’t want to drive him away anymore. He’ll come around soon and talk to you.

Well, at least you thought. A few days later, you find something that seems to answer all of your questions about Namjoon and the way he is.

While he’s making lunch for you both, you wander into the living room, your hands sweeping over his bookcase as you eye the titles. Some of them you recognize and some of them you don’t. You’re not paying too much attention and end up dragging your nails over a book spine that is already torn, tearing it a little more.

“Fuck,” you mumble, checking over your shoulder to make sure Namjoon hasn’t appeared in the doorway. You hear him still rattling around in the kitchen and slide the book off of the shelf to inspect the tear. The front and back are blank save for ‘Kim’ carved into the leather on the front cover. The book has seen better days with other tears and scratches over the aging leather.

It’s thick and the pages are worn, so you carefully turn them as you flip through it. At first, it looked like a heavy novel, but you notice the words on the pages are handwritten, and there are photos glued or taped throughout. Every few chunks of pages have different handwriting in it, so you assume it has to be a diary, especially when most of the pictures show a lot of people that look like Namjoon.

“His family’s diary?” You think to yourself as you flip through it. You land on some pages that don’t seem as worn and can’t help but read a bit of it. None of it makes much sense, but you spot a page with Namjoon’s name on it and stop to read.

The humans are moving in fast. They killed Jungho last week. Caught him when he had just shifted back into his hairless form and shot him dead. I slipped away before they saw me, but I have to be the one to tell Hyuna now.

I don’t know what to do. We can’t just leave. Geongmin isn’t even walking yet. I’ll have to tell Namjoon a little about what’s going on. He’ll need to know what to do in case something happens.

“Y/n,” Namjoon’s voice behind you has you nearly leaping in the air as you hug the diary to your rapidly beating heart. His eyes dart down to the book in your arms as they widen and dart back up to meet your gaze.

“Namjoon… are you a…” You don’t know how to say it. You’re scared to ask, but you have to know. It would make so much sense. It explains why he lives in the forest alone and isolated. Why he remains unhurt and alive out here and why he never goes into your town and only the one your grandma lives in since they don’t tell wolf stories over there.

“A wolf?” he finishes, running his fingers through his hair. “Yes.” He sets his jaw as he says it and stares at you straight on.

The silence echoes loudly between the two of you, both unsure what to say or do next.

“I should be scared. I should run out after begging you not to kill me.” You close the book and slide it back onto the shelf.

You slowly approach Namjoon and he flinches when you’re much closer to him. “That’s what everyone in town has told me my whole life; that if I’m faced with a wolf, I’ll surely die and that’d be the last of me…but I’m not scared. You wouldn’t hurt me.”

He shakes his head furiously. “Never.”

Nodding, you go over to Namjoon’s old leather couch, sinking into the cushion, leaving room for him next to you. He perches next to you and lets out a tired breath. His fingers tap against his knee before he begins speaking more than you think you’ve ever heard him do since you met him.

You learn that the wolves lived here for many, many years alone. They fled to this country and traveled around from town to town for years. There was a war in his home country that had many people fleeing which included many families, including his own.

It’s how they learned English and began to teach it down the generational lines. His bloodline in particular and a few others ended up here in this town eventually, and when they found that no one inhabited the land for miles, they decided this was their new home.

Years and years went by, and Namjoon’s kind (shapeshifters, they preferred to be called) lived in peace and were happy. But one day, a large group of settlers stumbled upon them, including the man who founded the town you lived in. They found them and immediately decided they wanted this land. The shapeshifters wanted to cohabitate, but the humans refused, and a small war broke out, leaving most of the shapeshifters dead.

They all ended up retreating deep into the forest, trying to hide in the cover of darkness, but then some humans, whom his people called hunters, decided they couldn’t even have that and would seek the shapeshifters out in the woods just to kill them. They murdered them under the guise of protecting their town when it was just an excuse to wipe out his people.

This continued constantly until Namjoon was seventeen and was the only one left. His family left him this cottage where they all lived until they were found out in the woods and taken from him. He hasn’t left simply because he doesn’t know where to go. This is where he grew up and the only place he knows. He’s just lucky that the cottage is deep in the forest enough that the hunters haven’t found him.

With each word in his story, you can see how truly sad he is. His shoulders slump more and more, and he sounds as if he’s choking on each word. Your heart aches not only for him but his family and friends and everyone that was here.

When tears well in Namjoon’s glassy brown eyes, you can’t help but do the same and, without thinking, reach out to grab him, pulling him into your arms. Namjoon doesn’t pull away but does the opposite. He buries his head into your chest and begins to sob into your shirt. The sound shatters your heart, as your own tears silently slide down your cheeks.

You’ve only known Namjoon for nearly three months, but your pull to him is undeniable. You care about this man and can see just how good of a person he is. He’s so different from anyone you’ve known but in the best way possible. He’s so pure and loving; he doesn’t deserve any of the terrible tragedies that have fallen on him. There is no way this is a lie with the way that sobs wrack his large frame, which seems so much smaller gripping you tight.

Namjoon stays wrapped around you for you’re not sure how long, but you let him stay until he pulls back. His face is puffy and red, and he avoids eye contact with you.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to -” you stop him by placing your finger over his lips.

“Don’t. Please don’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing to you. Like, I know I wasn’t involved, but fuck, I can’t even express how sorry I am. I know it won’t change anything, but I’m so sorry that humans are so shitty - that we are so, so terrible. I’m sorry that people I know are involved in all of this, and… this is all so horrendous, and I don’t have words to properly convey how sorry I am but know that I am so deeply sorry.”

He nods, something indescribable swimming in his eyes. “You know you’re the only human that I’ve seen in this town that didn’t want to kill me,” he laughs, but there’s no real humor behind it.

“Namjoon…” you go to reach for him, but he shakes his head.

“Would you mind if I had some time to myself? I just need to, I don’t know, maybe cry some more?”

“Of course!” You rush to stand up and grab your bag off of the floor. “I’ll stop by tomorrow?” You ask more than tell him and he agrees.

You get home in record time, mostly because your mind is elsewhere the entire time.

Namjoon is a wolf. You’ve been spending nearly all of your free time with a wolf, and you aren’t dead. He’s the only wolf left in town. People that you know, that you’ve grown up with, killed his entire bloodline. The wolf force is nothing but murderous hunters, and it’s likely the entire police force knows. Everyone in power knows. All of the older people in town likely know.

This is overwhelming, and your head is spinning with all of this new information. You briefly wonder if Seokjin knows all of this. He can’t because there’s no way he’d pursue that work. Right?

You get the chance to wonder even more that night when Seokjin pops up at your house for dinner. With Angela working, it’s just you, your mom, and Seokjin who sit down to eat, but you barely have an appetite as you’re still digesting everything from earlier.

“How’s training going? For the wolf force.” You ask Seokjin after he finishes talking about his dad’s new promotion.

“Good. I’ve finished a lot of the weapons training. Dad says I’ll be able to do regular patrols sooner than he thought I would.”

“What does patrol consist of again?”

Seokjin gives you a puzzled look but swallows his food to continue. “Well, it’s keeping everyone in town safe. Riding around the perimeter of the forest and keeping an eye out for any wolf sightings.”

“And what do you do if you see one?” You can’t help the challenging tone you take on now that you know what you do. There’s no way you can ever feel comfortable with this again.

“We kill it, Red.” He says matter-of-factly, shoving more pasta in his mouth after.

Your stomach churns at these words. The idea of anything happening to Namjoon hurts more than you can explain. The rest of dinner is silent on your end while Seokjin and your mom keep any signs of conversation going. He tries to ask what’s wrong before he leaves, but you simply say you’ve felt sick all day, which isn’t a complete lie.

The next day you’re due in the bakery in the morning, and the day seems to drag on before you can leave and you head straight to Namjoon’s. He’s in his garden when you arrive and doesn’t look up when you walk over and kneel next to him.

“I didn’t think you’d come back.” He speaks up first.

“Why would you think that?”

Setting the small shovel down he glances over at you. “Why do you think? I’m the big bad wolf that lives in the woods and kills people, remember? That’s what you’ve been taught your whole life. I figured I’d never see you again.”

“Hey,” you reach out and gingerly touch his arm.

“Remember when I said I wasn’t scared? I was telling the truth. I don’t think I’ll ever be scared of you. You have dimples deeper than the sea, for fucks sake. How can I be scared of that?” You don’t miss the blush that creeps onto Namjoon’s beautiful face, and the sight allows you to relax.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, there’s seriously no reason to ever think I’d hurt you. I’ve never hurt anyone in my entire life. I know that the whole town thinks we’ve killed innocent hikers or whatever, but that’s not true. I’ve watched campers walk too far into the woods and never come back. You may not know it, but the forest goes deeper than most people have ever been.”

“I had no idea. We were never really thought much about the nature out here.”

“And you know, even when my dad first told me what was happening to us, I never felt any sense of revenge. I’ve never wanted to hurt or kill anyone, even though I’ve seen people I know killed with my own eyes. Is that weird?”

“Of course not,” you scoot closer to him, your sides pressed against one another. “You’d be justified in feeling revenge if you wanted it, but you’re way too sweet. I don’t think you have a mean bone in your body.”

“Thanks for saying that.” The words are low, but you still hear them.

The relationship you have with Namjoon shifts after that, seemingly even more than it had leading up to finding out who he is. More lingering touches and more occupying each other's spaces.

It’s not long before you and Namjoon share your first kiss. It happens one afternoon when you’re helping him make lunch. You get ketchup on your cheek, and when Namjoon reaches over to wipe it off, his finger stays, and your eyes meet. It’s terribly cliche, but neither of you cares. When Namjoon’s plump, soft lips finally meet yours, nothing else matters.

Your hands wind around Namjoon’s neck and he lets you enjoy the warmth of him for a few more minutes before pulling back.

“No, why?” you pout and he laughs.

“Lunch isn’t done cooking yet.” He kisses your forehead and gently pushes you aside.

Unfortunately for your growing want for him, Namjoon continues to deny you whenever you’re kissing or holding each other when you try to initiate things further. You’ve attempted to, of course, because how could you not with the way he looks, but he always stops things before they go too far. He keeps mentioning how he’s not only never had sex and never been in a relationship, but he doesn’t even know what’ll happen if he does so with a human.

You don’t want to pressure him, but your desire lingers each time his built arms wrap around you or his full lips engulf your own.

“We’ll try it soon,” he always says, and you promise to wait and be more patient, even if you fantasize about him taking you every night when you’re alone.

The weeks go on, turning into months and soon you’ve known Namjoon for nearly half a year, and you see each other nearly every day. You’ve been romantically together for a month before you decide to claim him as your boyfriend and he does the same with you as his girlfriend.

You’ve never cared for anyone as strongly as you do for Namjoon, and he always says the same about you. Your excuses to your mom and friends somewhere along the line transformed to you going to take bike rides to work out and get more active and surprisingly, they all seem to buy it. Except for Seokjin. He asks more questions out of everyone, but you always manage to shake him.

Today you’re celebrating Namjoon’s birthday, so you pack a backpack with a small cake you asked Seokjin’s mom to make (to satisfy a craving you said). You also slip on the only cute lingerie set you own (a powder blue number) that you hope will show Namjoon that you really want to take the next step with him, no matter the chance.

As you’re mounting your bike, Seokjin pulls up.

“Red!”

“Hey, Jin.” you do your best to hide your lack of excitement.

“Where are you headed?” He inquires, and you know he has many more questions.

“Oh just to my grandma’s. Dropping some stuff from my mom.”

“Ah, well hop in! I’m off today and I miss granny! I know she misses me.” Seokjin boasts, moving to get back in his car.

“No, that’s okay. She isn’t feeling well, so I’m just stopping by quickly. She wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

“I’ll just poke my head in, that’s all. She would make an exception for her Jinnie.”

“Seriously, it’s okay, you know she’s serious about her health and everyone around her! I’ll tell her you said hi, though!” Before Seokjin can object again like you know he will, you pedal away, yelling over your shoulder that you’ll text him later to meet up. He calls your name, but you ignore him and keep pushing forward.

You breathe a sigh of relief as your mind shifts to Namjoon as you bike through town and the woods in what you feel like is record time. When you arrive at the cottage, you leave your bike outside as usual and let yourself in. Namjoon is on his couch, book in hand when you come in.

“Happy birthday!” You cheer, setting your backpack down gingerly before all but diving into Namjoon’s lap.

He lets out an ‘oof’ at you crashing into him but doesn’t push you off. “Thank you, baby.” As usual, the pet name sends a shiver through you as you bring your lips to his and kiss him hard.

“I brought you a cake,” you breathe once you pull away. Namjoon’s eyes light up, and he almost looks more excited about the premise of a cake than his girlfriend draping her body over him. Once you’re up, you pull him behind you and carry your backpack into the kitchen.

“Ta-dah!” You present the cake in a flourish when you fish it out of your bag and set it on the table. “I’m so sorry I forgot to buy you a phone, but I will tomorrow! I hate not being able to speak to you when we’re apart and…” That’s when you notice the tears almost welling in Namjoon’s eyes as he admires the dessert.

“Wh-what’s wrong?” Did I do something wrong? Is the cake ugly?”

“Nothing! It’s just that, the last time I celebrated my birthday was when my parents were…” he trails off, and you rush over, pulling his face to yours to place soft kisses all over his face.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. We can do the cake later if you want?”

“Okay. I just ate so I’m a little full anyway, but I do want it!”

“Well, I know how we can work up an appetite for cake.”

Namjoon cocks an eyebrow at you. “Oh?”

Smirking, you pull away and shrug your jacket off, then pull your shirt over your head. Namjoon’s breath audibly catches in his throat at the sight of the soft blue lace that cups your breasts. You shimmy out of your jeans slowly so he can follow how good your legs look in the matching thong and garters.

“Wow.” Namjoon admires.

“Are you gonna unwrap your present?” You pout, fingers playing with the straps of your bra. You see the inner turmoil behind his eyes as he weighs his choices, and you instantly feel guilty. “We don’t have to if you truly, genuinely don’t want to.”

Namjoon only gives it a few more seconds before crossing the room and pulling you into a kiss. There’s a sound outside then that has you both freezing as you wait for a few seconds before you hear scratching at the door.

“Sugar,” he mumbles, going over to let the cat in. The black cat rushes in and sits by the door, staring outside.

Paying him no mind, Namjoon comes back to you and tosses you over his shoulder, making you squeal.

“Are you sure you want this?” Namjoon asks as he carries you upstairs to his room.

“I wouldn’t be here in what barely constitutes as clothing if I didn’t.” You bounce slightly when he tosses you onto the bed and quickly drapes his large frame over yours.

“I just wanted to make sure… I don’t want to hurt you,” his words are laced with concern, but the drop in his tone still has you biting your lip and spreading your legs open almost immediately.

Namjoon’s hand finds yours above your head and cradles it before he moves to place kisses on your fingers. His lips move down your arm to your neck, your cheeks, then your lips. As romantic as he is, the want that you feel for him is immeasurable.

The kiss is short but sloppy, your tongues frantic as they meet in your mouth. Your fingers move up to tangle in his hair and when you yank the strands, Namjoon lets out a hiss that you feel shoot directly to your core.

He sits up and kneels, yanking his shirt off and tossing it elsewhere in the room. Your eyes sweep over his body. The taut, sculpted muscles of his abdomen are enough to send you into even more of a needy frenzy. You don’t know why you never thought about just how good he’d look without a shirt, but you never want him to wear one again after this.

Namjoon nuzzles into your neck, leaving kisses and nips on your soft skin in between inhales of breath. “You have no idea how good you always smell,” he speaks into your neck. “Always so damn sweet.” He works his way down to your chest, your stomach, stopping at your clothed sex. He kisses his way back up your body, his hands running over every part of you he can touch.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n. Every single part of you deserves to be worshipped.” He whispers each time his lips meet your skin. He lavishes you with more compliments as he kisses every part of you not covered by fabric, then moves up to help you take your bra off.

At the sight of your bare breasts, you watch Namjoon’s pupils dilate, his hand immediately reaching to tweak one of your nipples, and you gasp. He smiles, bending to take your other nipple into his mouth and bites down on the nub.

“Ah!” You squeal, his tongue quickly lapping at it after biting, then he sucks harshly in time with the way he rolls your other nipple between his calloused fingers. He continues kneading at your soft flesh, wetness pooling in your panties more with each suck and each tug. You’re torn between begging him to touch you where you’re truly aching for him most and not wanting him to stop.

As if reading your mind at that moment, he releases your nipple with a ‘pop’, moving to kiss the valley between your breasts, then back up to your neck. His large, warm hands trail down your body, fingers hooking into your panties to yank them down your legs and tossing them somewhere in the room. His digits immediately move to your pussy, spreading your already moist lips apart.

The sensation causes you to jump, a whimper falling from your mouth, making Namjoon grunt. His teeth nibble harder at your skin as he plunges a single thick finger into you.

“Oh!” You gasp, already feeling full, and he hasn’t even properly started yet. With his finger pushing inside of you, Namjoon finally leaves the bitten skin of your neck, no doubt littered with marks, to shift down your body. He situates himself between your legs, blowing warm air onto your wetness. You feel his nose nuzzling against your inner thigh, then against your clit and you jolt again.

“Fucking delicious,” he murmurs before surging forward, lips latching onto your clit and sucking hard.

“Namjoon - fuck!” You shriek, pleasure shooting through your whole body as he suckles at your sensitive bud, his finger never ceasing its movement in you. He keeps a steady pace of sucking your clit and fingering you, eventually stuffing a second digit in you. You can’t help but reach down to grip his blonde locks, tugging at the hair while you squirm.

Namjoon lets out grunts and low groans as he fucks you with his fingers, and right when you feel as though you may cum, he slips his fingers out, you whimpering at the loss.

He makes up for it quick. As soon as he sucks your juices off of his hand, he dives into your pussy again, this time tongue first, and you nearly pass out. His tongue pistons in and out of you, eating you out as if you’re his last meal. His thumb furiously rubs your clit, the intensity only serving to have you letting out various high-pitched noises as you beg him to let you cum.

“Joon, please, fuck please, let me cum…” you plead as you hold his head in place as you move your hips to match his tongue’s movement, chasing your end as it creeps closer.

“Mmhmm,” he mumbles into you, tongue-fucking you to orgasm, his name tumbling from your lips.

When Namjoon finally comes up for air, he’s beaming down at you, face glistening as your juices dry on his skin.

“You taste even better than I thought you would,” he compliments, a blush creeping up your neck at his words. He leans down to meet your lips, and you taste yourself on his tongue as he moves it into your mouth, your body reacting to him instantly, your hips pushing up towards him with more want.

“Well, how about you find out if I also feel as good as you thought.” You purr when he pulls back, desperately waiting for him to fuck you.

“I want to, so bad,” he sighs, fingertips ghosting over your skin as he surveys your naked body underneath him.

“So what are you waiting for?” The playfulness leaves his eyes for a second, and you can tell his earlier worry of hurting you is resurfacing. “Joon, please. I want you to,” to drive the point home further, you flip onto your stomach, getting on all fours to present yourself to him. “You won’t hurt me, just please fill me up.”

Since you’re looking at him over your shoulder, you watch as the worry etched onto his face twists into something much more desperate, feral even.

“Are you sure?” He grits, bottom lip bit between his teeth while his hands ghost over your ass.

“Namjoon, please take me,” you beg, pushing your ass into his still clothed crotch, feeling just how much he truly wants you. “Now!”

Something akin to a growl comes from him as he tugs his pants and underwear down, his erection visible. Your mouth falls open at the sheer girth of him, and only momentarily do you wonder if he’ll even fit. The stickiness between your legs doesn’t care, though, as you quite literally throb at the thought of him shoving his cock into you.

Namjoon’s hands grip your ass, pulling you closer to him, his hardness rubbing against your pussy, so close to where you want him.

“You have to tell me if you want to stop okay? Say the word and I’ll stop.” He assures you, sounding just like the sweet, thoughtful Namjoon that you’ve gotten to know.

Instead of responding verbally, you simply nod and maneuver your body enough that you can push back against him again. This time his cockhead just barely slips between your lips, both of you letting out identical moans at the smallest amount of relief to your want.

Namjoon takes this as the okay he needs, slowly plunging his thickness into you as a long, low whine slips out of you. Once he’s sheathed completely inside of you, he stills, adjusting on his knees behind you.

“Fuck yes,” he sighs, squeezing the flesh of your ass before he begins moving his hips, matching sounds of pleasure shared between the two of you. With a firm hold on you, Namjoon’s pace quickens, the sound of skin slapping skin rings out in the room, mixing with your desperate sounds.

“Y-yes, Joon!”

“Feel good, baby?” He coos, his caring words a stark contrast from the bruising thrusts he’s subjecting you to.

“So good, Joon! So good!” you shout, savoring the rough drag of his cock against your soft walls. You know you’ll be sore tomorrow, but it’ll be a welcomed pain; your body has never known pleasure like this and you’re hooked already.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful like this, stuffed full of my cock.” He snarls, the speed of his thrusts becoming rougher, his cock sinking even deeper into you.

“You’re taking me so well, baby.” His words are only serving to spur you on more, your body on fire as he quite literally fucks you into the mattress.

Your hands grip at the sheets attempting to anchor yourself. “Namjoon, fuck!”

“Ugh, I love hearing you say my name. Say it again, baby.” He swivels his hips when he says that, his cock easily brushing against your g-spot, making your eyes cross and your stomach twist.

“Namjoon!” You shriek, so close to your second orgasm, this one has you convulsing before it even hits. “I’m so close, please!”

“M-me too. Fuck, Y/n, I’m gonna cum. It - it’s gonna be a lot and -”

“Just do it, please!” You’re desperate, your voice sounding hysterical as you are so, so close. Namjoon harshly hums, only a few more wild thrusts have you finally coming undone, a scream of his name ripping from your throat and into the pillow your face is buried in.

Namjoon seems to roar as his thick cum pumps into you, and his cock swells both painfully while also being pleasurable. His hips stutter in motion, and his heavy, hot body drapes over you as he keeps filling you up, your walls stretching to accommodate him.

You whine, shifting to find a more comfortable position to no avail. “Joon,” you pout, body still shaking uncontrollably.

“I know, baby. It’ll be over soon.” He peppers kisses all over your shoulder blades while rubbing comforting circles on your back.

He’s right, as the pressure does eventually start to lessen, and soon enough, it’s gone and he’s able to slip his softening cock out of your sore hole. You immediately flop onto the bed, legs made of jelly and your body exhausted.

“Knotting?” You rasp once you find your voice again. Namjoon sputters in response, opening and closing his mouth with no answer. You laugh, slowly turning to your side to look at him. His honeyed skin is covered in a sheen of sweat and his hair is flat to his head and even still, he’s just as beautiful as always. “It’s okay. I kind of looked some stuff up online. I was just curious,” you supply, laughing awkwardly. “Is that weird?”

“O-oh, no! Sorry, I just didn’t know what to say is all. It’s okay; it’s the main reason I was afraid, but at least I don’t have to explain it too much.” He lets out his own nervous laughter, the sweet sound making you smile. Unable to help it, you reach out to cup Namjoon’s face and kiss him, which he immediately returns.

A warmth spreads through your body, your heart feeling full of nothing but the care you feel for Namjoon. “Thank you,” you whisper against his lips.

“Thank you,” he mumbles back, nuzzling his nose against yours and your heart clenches again for him at the gesture.

Fatigue quickly replaces that feeling when you yawn, the mid-afternoon sun coming through the window only serving to make you even cozier. “I think I need a quick nap.” You stretch out, tired joints cracking with each movement.

“We can do that. And then we can have cake when we’re up?”

“Of course,” you chuckle at the eagerness in his voice. Namjoon wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. You snuggle into his bare chest his warm skin and heartbeat easing you into a quick, welcomed sleep.

Something tells you to open your eyes, and when you do, you notice how dark the room is. It takes only a few seconds before you realize that you’re not in your room, but in Namjoon’s, and the sun has already set.

“Oh, fuck!” You curse, jumping out of bed and scrambling to find your clothes. Your muscles protest, but you ignore it as you scan the floor.

“What’s going on?” Namjoon jolts up and watches you with tired eyes.

“It’s dark, which means my mom is probably home and is wondering where the hell I am. I gotta go home.” You can’t find your lingerie set and decide to just forgo it, rushing downstairs to retrieve your jeans and shirt, still on the kitchen floor.

Namjoon follows behind, pulling on sweatpants along the way. “Get home safe, okay?”

Once your clothes are on, you give him one last kiss for the night as you zip your jacket. “I will. And I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon after I grab you a phone!” You call goodbye and rush out, hopping on your bike to get home. You’re out of breath when you get there, seeing your mom, Angela, and Seokjin’s cars in the driveway.

“Great,” you groan to yourself and steel yourself when you pass the threshold.

“Y/n! Where the hell have you been?!” Your mom shrieks before you even shut the door, Angela following her and frowning.

“I’ve been home since the sun was setting because I was able to leave the hospital early and I find you nowhere to be seen and not answering your phone for either of us!” Your phone had been in your discarded jeans and there was no way you would’ve heard it while you and Namjoon were having sex.

Seokjin comes around the corner, arms crossed and disapproval on his face like some sort of authority figure. “If I hadn’t come by again when you didn’t answer my texts, your mom wouldn’t have even known you were seeing your grandma.”

“I-”

“I called your grandmother, and she said she hasn’t seen you all day!”

“Yeah, I’m-”

“And I didn’t see you when I was patrolling, Y/n.” Angela cuts in, hands on her hips as she reprimands you. “And I drove all around town, including through the woods.” Angela and your mom may not be married yet, but with them having been together since you were a teenager and her moving in when you left for college, she still, at times, feels like your true second mom.

“You know when I think about it,” your mom starts again. “You’ve barely been home much for weeks except when you’re babysitting or going and coming. What’s going on?!”

You begin to panic, scrambling to come up with an excuse. “I… I’m, I’m just tired of being here, okay!” It’s not a lie, just not the truth to this particular question.

“What?” Your mom asks, only slightly gentler than before.

“I need time to myself! I miss the city, and working these two jobs every day over and over again is so suffocating! I’m a grown woman, and if I want to ride around alone to clear my head, I can, okay?”

Your mom doesn’t say anything, but her face shows sadness. “Y/n, I didn’t realize. I knew you missed the city, but I didn’t know it was this bad.” The guilt in her voice makes you feel guilty, but you push it down to get through this conversation.

“Mom, I love you, I do, but I need to be able to take time to myself. I’ll be thirty soon, and I still live with my mother. I should be allowed to be alone.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I just love and care about you, and I want you to be safe.” She softens and comes over to hug you.

“I know.”

“But I also know I can be a little too overprotective.” She pulls back and offers you a smile. “I won’t breathe down your neck about where you’re going, but I still want responses to my texts, at least. I just need to know you’re okay.”

“I can do that. Sorry to make you worry.”

“Yeah, you better be. Don’t do that again.”

“I won’t.”

“I know you won’t.” She gives you a stern look and lets you go, leaving room for Angela to come over and hug you. “Now that I’m done having a heart attack, I’ll order dinner. My nerves are too shot to cook. Pizza?”

“Half black olives.” You and Angela answer in unison.

“Got it. Seokjin, will you stay for dinner?” You forgot that your best friend is still here, looking angry in the background during the whole exchange.

“No. I’ll be leaving as soon as I use the bathroom.” He hurries down the hall, and you take your leave, saying you’re going to go shower before the pizza is here.

Once in your room, you put your phone on the charger and move to pull your shirt over your head, but Seokjin barging into your room makes you scream and pull your shirt back down.

“Jin, are you insane?! How about you knock first!” He shuts the door behind him, fury clouding his features.

“Did you leave your little blue bra at your boyfriend’s house?” He says with too much venom in his voice. Your stomach sinks at his words.

“What did you just say?”

“Or did the wolf rip it off of you as he bred you?”

“Seokjin, get the fuck out!”

“No! Not until you tell me why the hell you’re running around in the woods and fucking a wolf! Is that why you’ve been so distant these past few months? I knew something was going on, but I had no idea it’d be this!” Seokjin spits, disgust in his tone.

“It’s none of your fucking business what I’ve been doing! And did you follow me earlier?!”

“I sure did because I knew you were lying to me. I’ve known you were lying every time you ran off mysteriously, but I finally caught you. How could you, Red?!”

“I can’t believe you followed me. And what, were you fucking peeping in on us?”

“I didn’t mean to see all that I saw! I knew you were lying so I followed you with my car but stayed far enough that you didn’t notice. Then when you got off your bike and walked through the woods, it wasn’t hard to follow behind you. I had my gun on me because we were going through the woods where we shouldn’t be going. I watched you go into his house, and I waited, then I saw you in one of the windows talking to him. Then you were kissing and getting naked for him, and I wanted to burst in and drag you out so badly.”

You’re furious, and it’s taking everything in you not to haul off and punch your best friend. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now. I seriously can’t believe you.”

“I could say the same to you! I just don’t understand what’s going through your thick skull doing the reckless shit you’re doing.”

“Alright, first the fuck of all, don’t you ever follow me again! What you did is such a gross invasion of my privacy.”

“Oh please, I was -”

“Second of all, how do you know who he is?”

“Come on, Red, it’s not hard to figure out. No human is going to live in the woods on their own. If they did, they surely wouldn't be alive right now.”

“Right, because you hunters wouldn’t kill a human, you only wipe out non-humans just for the hell of it.”

Seokjin scoffs. “Is that what your wolf told you? And you believe that animal?”

“He’s not an animal!” You shout, hoping no one downstairs is hearing any of this. “He told me about his past, Jin. Hunters, your ancestors, your grandfather, and your father, they’ve killed off his entire family.”

He doesn’t respond, only looking you up and down, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you. After everything that’s happened to this town and everything the members of my family have done for everyone and you’re saying this. You’re a fucking traitor.”

Seokjin’s words hurt, even though you’re furious with him. You’ve never been in a serious argument, but this just seems to keep escalating. “Seokjin, you need to do your research. The history of this town and your family is very different from what we’ve been told.”

A bitter laugh falls from his lips. “I thought you were smart, Red, but you’re acting so stupid right now.”

“Seokjin -”

“I was going to ask you to marry me!” He screams, face red and brows knitted in the angriest way possible.

“What? Seokjin, we’ve had this talk. I’ve told you before that I don’t like you like that.”

“Right, because you’d rather run around fucking wild dogs. I suppose he’s made you his bitch now?”

“Fuck you!” You yell, lunging across the room at Seokjin, fists ready, but he’s faster and pins your arms behind your back.

“Whatever, Red. I hope you enjoyed your little Twilight fantasy. You just ruined any future we could’ve had.” He roughly lets you go, and you stumble to back away.

“Seokjin, you need to think about this! Why would I lie to you?”

“You’re clearly brainwashed, and I don’t want to deal with this, or you, anymore.” He storms out then, slamming your bedroom door behind him.

You run to your bedroom window and throw it open. Poking your head out, you see Seokjin leave soon after and call him as he walks to his car, but he ignores you. He looks at you before peeling away from the curb but says nothing.

Having heard some of the commotion, your mom comes upstairs to ask what’s wrong. You quickly come up with a lie, saying that you and Seokjin fought about you wanting to move back to the city.

“Oh sweetie, you know Seokjin cares about you, that’s all. I’m sure he’ll come around. You two have never fought for long.”

You hope so, but you doubt it. You barely eat any of your pizza or get any sleep. Seokjin continues to ignore your calls and texts. If you can just get him when he’s calm then maybe you can explain everything, and he can even meet Namjoon and hear it straight from him. Seokjin is stubborn, but there’s no way he’d stay that mad at you forever.

The following morning, you feel like shit, but get dressed and go downstairs anyway. You’re babysitting tonight but want to get Namjoon a phone before then.

“Morning,” you mumble to your mom sitting at the kitchen island as you pour coffee into a travel mug.

“Morning. You’ve just missed all the fuss.” She says, scrolling through her phone.

“What do you mean?”

“Angela just hurried out of here saying there was a wolf spotting last night.” You nearly overfill the mug at her words, almost missing the point where you need to stop pouring.

“What?”

“Yeah, apparently Jin saw it last night on the way home. Someone on the force called her to tell her. He’s leading his father and the rest of the wolf force into the woods this morning to find it.”

Panic overcomes you instantly. Namjoon. Seokjin is going to lead them to Namjoon.

No.

“I need to meet Chaerin!” You call your mom, already running to the front door for your sneakers from yesterday. You’ve got to get to Namjoon first. You have to.

You drop your bike into a bush at the beginning of the clearing to Namjoon’s. You run the rest of the way as fast as your legs can carry you, leaves and twigs snapping beneath your sneakers. When you reach the cottage, you’re out of breath and panting, but the only thing that matters is getting to Namjoon.

Fumbling with the key, you finally get the door unlocked, barging in as he’s coming out of the bathroom.

“Y/n, what’s going on?”

“We have to go, now!” You walk around the small house, trying to identify anything of value that he should pick up.

“Go where? What’s happening?” Namjoon grabs your wrist, turning you to look at him. “Talk to me.”

Fighting back tears, you look at him, heart hurting. This is all your fault, and the guilt is immeasurable.

“Joon, the hunters know you’re here. They’re talking about coming out here today to… get you. We need to leave right now. Please.”

Fear visibly overcomes him as his eyes quickly glance around the house. “Okay,” he breathes. “Let’s get out of here.”

He packs a bag of some of his things while you pick Sugar up, gently placing the cat in a backpack. He purrs the entire time, not even aware of what’s happening.

“We just need to make it through the forest and across the bridge to the next town over!” You call through the house. “The wolf force can’t do anything to you over there.”

Namjoon comes into the room with a duffel bag in hand. “Sounds good. I’m rea-” He freezes, head whipping around to the front of the house without a sound. You try to listen too, straining to hear anything, but you don’t. You want to ask what it is, but that’s when the distinct sound of snapping twigs approaching reaches your ears.

“They’re here,” Namjoon whispers, followed by a loud knock on the door.

You both freeze, holding your breath in hopes that they’ll go away. You have no such luck as another knock against the wooden door rings out.

“Hello?! This is the Wolf Force! I’m gonna need you to open the door.” You recognize the voice of Seokjin’s father and grit your teeth.

“Fuck… okay I’ll answer it.” You whisper, and Namjoon shakes his head. “That’s Seokjin’s dad. If he sees me, maybe he’ll go away.”

“But what if he doesn’t?”

“Then wait by the backdoor with Sugar, and if it goes bad I’ll shut the door, and we’ll go out the back.” Namjoon still doesn’t like this but agrees. You take a deep breath and open the front door.

Mr. Kim is surprised to see you and backs up to inspect you. Behind him are the other members of the wolf force that you recognize from town, including Angela and Seokjin, who is directly behind his father. There’s fiery anger in his eyes that you do your best to return when your eyes meet.

“Y/n? What are you doing out here?” Mr. Kim asks. He tries to look around you, but you keep the front door closed, save for enough space for you to partially step out.

“This is a cottage I found recently so I’m just hanging out. I don’t think anyone lives here, so I’ve just been coming here.” You hope it doesn’t sound like as much of a lie as you think it does.

“So you found a random house in the forest and have just been staying in it?” Angela interjects, eyeing you carefully.

“Yeah, “your chuckle sounds nervous, and you want to kick yourself. “You know I love my mom, but I need my space.”

Mr. Kim doesn’t believe you. “Right… and what were you doing out in the forest this far to find it?”

“Oh, I followed an injured rabbit out here weeks ago and stumbled upon it.” Everyone surrounding the house seems to adjust their guns as you speak subtly, and the dread in the pit of your stomach is only growing. “Don’t worry. It was daytime, so no worries.”

“Seokjin says he saw a wolf walking around very early this morning and that it ran in this direction.”

Your eyes meet your best friend’s again and stay locked on him as you speak. “Oh wow, well luckily I haven’t seen any, and I didn’t run into any when I came out here. Maybe it went another direction you didn’t see.”

“I highly doubt that, Red.”

“Well, Jin, maybe you just didn’t see what happened very well.”

“I know what I saw!” Seokjin snaps. His father places a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

“Look, Y/n, I don’t know what’s going on here, but we’ll need to check the house.”

“For what?”

“Y/n, you know what.” The rest of the force slowly advances towards you. This is only escalating more, and you can tell. You only know the basics of the wolf force from what Seokjin and Angela have told you, but when they want to sweep an area for wolves, they do it. You don’t think they’ll hurt you since they know you, but they will force their ways in since they aren't buying your story. You can’t let them hurt Namjoon. You won’t let them.

“Oh, for wolves? So you can continue murdering them?”

“Excuse me?” Mr. Kim balks.

“Just cut the bullshit.” Whatever’s going to happen will be bad, so why not make your feelings very clearly known. “I know the truth. I know that the wolf force is just an excuse for you all to murder innocent people for existing.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/n. Now step aside.” Angela’s tone is stern, but you don’t budge.

“You can lie to my face all you want, but I’m not buying it. And no, I won’t be stepping aside.”

“Y/n!” Mr. Kim bellows, stepping forward once more. “Impeding on the actions of the wolf force is a crime. If you stand in the way of us keeping this town safe, we will be bringing you in.”

You scoff at him, but he doesn’t stand down. This is it - the moment that things will only go from bad to worse. It’s silent for a second with no one moving. You feel a gentle hand on your back from the other side of the door. Your hand that’s holding the door and out of sight from the wolf force, moves slowly, grasping onto Namjoon’s hand and squeezing. He gives you a slight tug, which you know means it’s time to move.

Slipping out of his grasp, you carefully move your hand to the doorknob. No one except Seokjin notices and he’s the one to speak.

“Y/n.” The force glances his way, and you take this opportunity to jerk back inside and slam the door shut, locking it right as Namjoon moves and pushes his nearby console table in front of it.

“Upstairs to my room and out of the window! They’ll no doubt block the back!” He runs upstairs with you on his tail after you’ve grabbed the bag with Sugar from him as bangs sound at the front door.

Just as you reach the large window of Namjoon’s bedroom that faces the side of the house, you both hear a heavy crash as the front door is kicked open.

“Red?!” Seokjin’s voice makes you start to panic. As you know it’ll only take a few minutes before he and the rest of the force find you both up here.

“Hey, listen to me,” Namjoon starts, holding your face to look at him. “This ledge is very narrow, so when I step out of the window, I need you to grab onto my back and don’t let me go, no matter what you do.”

Terrified, you still say yes. You trust Namjoon, no matter what your fears are telling you. Namjoon quickly climbs out of the window, adjusting his bags wrapped around his shoulders, and bends his knees slightly.

“Y/n!” Angela’s voice is close as footsteps begin thudding upstairs.

“Y/n, let’s go!” Namjoon waves for you to climb on. Taking a deep breath and making sure the backpack is securely on your shoulders, you hoist yourself up into the window frame.

“Red - Y/n, stop!” Seokjin’s voice is behind you, and when you whip your head around, you see he’s standing there, gun at his side as he watches you. “Don’t do this. I can make it so that you don’t get in too much trouble. Please come with me.”

You hesitate, only for a second. “What happens to Namjoon?” You don’t miss the dark shadow that casts itself over Seokjin’s features and that’s all you need to know.

Without another word, you latch onto Namjoon’s back, and he leaps from the second story. You feel the ghosting of Seokjin’s fingers on your arm, having been too slow to catch you.

There are still members of the wolf force on the ground who turn towards the sound of Namjoon’s feet hitting the ground with their guns drawn. He doesn’t hesitate as he takes off into the trees, bullets flying past as he weaves and dodges obstacles.

The next town over isn’t that far by bike usually, but you may get there faster with the speed at which Namjoon’s feet are moving. For a second, you only hear the sound of nature whooshing by, but the rumble of ATV motors fills your ears soon after. They’re getting closer, so Namjoon zig zags and goes deeper into the forest, the sounds getting further away.

When you reach a large gathering of trees, Namjoon stops behind one and you get off of his back, both of you sinking to the ground. You can’t hear anything other than your breathing and the faint sounds of the motors.

Namjoon’s face is screwed in concentration as he listens to the sounds surrounding you both.

“They’re heading to the bridge between this town the next.”

“They’re trying to block us from leaving.” You finish his thought. “How far away are we? I couldn’t tell when we left your house.”

“Not too far - a handful of miles maybe. The only issue will be getting around the blockade I’m sure they’re setting up.”

“Can we just keep going through the woods?”

“We can but we’ll have to be fast…” he trails off, eyes darting to you. “I can’t go as quickly as we need to in uh, in this form.” He doesn’t look at you when he says it as if he’s embarrassed.

“Hey, Joon, if you need to shift, please don’t feel like you can’t. I’m okay.” You grasp his hand, placing a kiss on his knuckles. He smiles and kisses your forehead.

“I uh, usually don’t have clothes on for this, so I’m gonna put them in my bag real quick.”

“No need to be so shy, you know. I literally saw you naked yesterday.” Rolling his eyes, Namjoon quickly pulls his clothes off and shoves them into his duffel bag.

“Once I change, you can still talk to me as normal, I just can’t speak back. Grab my bag and hop on my back, and we’ll go. Hold on as tight as you can; I don’t plan on stopping until we’re across town lines.” You nod and watch as Namjoon takes a deep breath before you see it with your own eyes. The tan man with perfect skin and hair shifts in front of you, his long limbs and torso twisting, elongating and changing, and growing honey-colored fur.

In front of you now stands the tallest creature you’ve ever seen before. Taller than any horse or any cow you’ve encountered at childhood petting zoos. Namjoon is just as beautiful as a powerful wolf, his fur looking soft and golden, yellow eyes shining as they meet yours.

Having a real, actual wolf in front of you, you feel no fear. Only fascination and wonder and something that may have been stirring in your heart for Namjoon this whole time the more you get to know him. Seeing him this way, in his other true form, knowing he feels comfortable enough around you to show you this side of him - the word ‘love’ rings in your ears as you look at him.

You snap out of your self-induced trance when he noses at his bag, the signal for you to get moving. You grab the duffel bag, adjusting it across your chest, making sure it’s secure on you. After checking to make sure the backpack still on your back housing Sugar is also safe, you climb onto Namjoon’s back and situate yourself. You bend and wrap your limbs around his body the best you can.

“I’m ready,” you murmur into his fur, but he still hears you. Before you even have a chance to think much else, you feel the fast movement of air around you. The ride is much bumpier than when you were on human-form Namjoon’s back, and you have to make sure you’re clutching him tightly as he weaves through the trees. Your eyes are closed as you burrow your face into his neck and wait to get to a safe spot.

Quicker than you thought, he slows down, and you pop your head up to take in your surroundings. You’re still in the brush, but the bridge is in sight. Police cars and ATVs are lined up in front of it and along the riverbed. You scan the crowd, recognizing nearly every face and feeling nothing but anger. Anger that these people you grew up with would be doing something so terrible and angry that they’re doing this now even when they know you’re involved.

“Are we looking for an opening?” Namjoon grunts at your question, which sounds like an affirmation. You give another once over to the side of the bridge you’re on, just as one of the wolf force members walks away leaving the spot between them and the bridge open with a gap wide enough that Namjoon could probably run through to make it over the river. You point it out to him and he lets out a snuff. He looks at you over his shoulder the best he can and whines quietly.

It’s dangerous and you know that this could end badly if one thing goes wrong. You caress the top of Namjoon’s head and lean down to place a kiss on him. He whines again, then takes a step back. You tighten your arms and legs around him, torn between keeping your eyes open or closing them until it’s over.

You end up opting to keep them open and watch as Namjoon takes off towards the clearing. He’s moving so fast that no one notices him until he comes tumbling out of the trees. The distance to the river isn’t much, and you seem to dodge every obstacle, bullets whizzing over you with each step. You hear a voice that sounds like Angela’s call out your name, but you can’t see her.

Everyone’s face is a blur with how fast you’re going, but the unmistakable expression of anger seems to be shared, except for one face you know to be Seokjin’s. It seems like something akin to sadness maybe or hurt. For a second, you understand it. He’s been your best friend since the two of you were born and because of a lie and violence that started before you even came to be, that friendship is dying instantly.

You give him what might be a comparable expression, even if his gun is raised above you as he does so. Namjoon’s front paws hit the water and he stumbles at the same time that you feel something smash into him. He seems to tumble forward but keeps his balance enough so that you don’t get knocked off. He’s slower but still moving.

You hear more gunshots and it feels like an eternity goes by as Namjoon lumbers to the other side of the river and throws himself onto the wet soil on the other side.

The ground squishes when you fall to the side and onto it. You’re out of breath and panting, but relief floods your senses when you realize you’re lying on the other side in the next town over where they don’t have wolf laws. You’ve made it out.

Sitting up, you see the irate faces of the wolf force staring back at you, powerless. Your eyes meet Angela’s as she says your name, but you don’t respond. Seokjin is next to her and you look at him, unspoken words are exchanged and none of them feel positive. When you finally tear your gaze away from Seokjin and look to Namjoon, you realize why he’s been so quiet.

He’s back in his human form, face contorted in what looks like pain. He’s naked and curled into a ball, blood seeping from a wound on his side. Terror zips through your body like electricity as you watch him bleed.

“Namjoon! Joon, please hold on!!” Your eyes blur with tears.

“Hey, hey. It’s not as bad as it looks, I promise.” He smiles at you, but the expression is switched quickly to a frown.

“Come on, we can go to my grandmother’s, and she can help. Can you move?”

“Mmhmm,” he tries his best to assure you but fails. After helping him stand up, you take him to off to the side behind a tree, so you can help him get at least his pants on.

You’re more than thankful that your grandmother lives close enough that you and Namjoon can limp there in a reasonable amount of time. When you’re through her door after she answers, she’s ushering Namjoon into her kitchen without hesitation and listening to you tell her, through cries, everything that’s happened. You’ve always been able to tell her anything, so the sight of her, and the worry about Namjoon, all compound and you can’t hold it in anymore.

Once she’s dressed Namjoon’s wound and he’s lying on her couch, you properly explain everything from start to finish. She patiently listens, offering hugs and tissues where needed.

That’s when you find out that she knew all of this, and it’s the reason she left town when she did. She and a lot of the older people in town knew the true intentions of the wolf force and the history of where you live. She was always against it but could never do anything to stop it. She finally was so fed up enough to leave town and tried to get your mom to do so. That discussion caused the argument with your mom who also knew the truth but was against uprooting everything and changing the life both only she and you had known. She had her job, you were almost done with high school, she owned the home you lived in, and she had Angela, who your grandma is also sure pressured her into staying.

The thought of your mom knowing and choosing what she was comfortable with over the horrible truth, frustrates you and you know this will be a heavy conversion to be had - but you’re not ready for that right now. You only think of Namjoon and what your next steps will be.

“Do you two need a place to stay?” Your grandma asks as if reading your mind.

“Yes. I wouldn’t ask, but we didn’t anticipate this happening so fast. I have a good amount of money saved up, but we’ll need more for both of us to survive somewhere. And now I’ll need a new job over here to continue to get the rest of that together.”

“Well, you two are welcomed to my guest room while you’re saving. I’ll talk to some folks around town to see if any of them have any open jobs they need to be filled.”

Your grandma moves to get up, and you can’t help but reach out to place your hand over hers. “Thank you, so much grandma. Thank you for being the only one who understands.”

She places her other hand over yours and squeezes. “Of course. I’m always on your side.”

You smile gratefully, letting go of her hand so she can go into the next room. You’re left alone only for a few seconds before you hear a groaning coming from the living room. You’re through the door in a flash, kneeling on the carpet beside Namjoon, Sugar sitting on the couch above his head already purring to comfort him.

“Y/n?” He asks groggily, squinting his eyes to take in his surroundings.

“Hey, hey I’m right here.” You grab his hand, and he squeezes back, brown eyes finally focusing on your face.

“We made it to your grandma’s.”

“Yeah, we did. You don’t remember getting here?”

“Truth be told I don’t remember much getting from the bridge and then here.” He frowns, lifting his head to inspect his bandaged stomach.

“That’s fair. As soon as she opened the door, you passed out, but grandma says you’ll be alright. The bullet went clean through, so she just had to patch the holes up and cover you up. You need lots of rest, but she doesn’t believe it’s anything worth racking up a hospital bill over unless you want to.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “I know this town is different, but I’m not prepared to see a human doctor for the first time just yet.”

Nodding you lean down to kiss his hand. “I was so scared when you were shot,” you whisper after a minute of silence. “And when you passed out I nearly lost my shit. I’m so glad you’re okay.” Tears begin to well again and you reach up to swipe at your eyes before any can fall.

Namjoon shifts to cradle your face in his hands, his own eyes shining as he meets your gaze. “I can’t leave you. I won’t, not ever. I love you.” The phrase has your breath catching as the tears fall anyway.

“I love you too.” Namjoon leans forward, his lips meeting yours halfway as you share a kiss that makes your heart race. You gasp when you pull away, ignoring how he quite literally, took your breath away in that moment.

Resting your foreheads together, you both smile. Despite your lack of a home, abysmal finances, and no thought out next plan, finally telling Namjoon how you’ve been feeling for him eases that burden off of your shoulders. Those unsaid words are replaced with warmth and relief at him feeling the same as you do.

The two of you stay this way for a little while longer until your grandma comes into the room. She checks Namjoon’s wounds and his vitals while telling you she has a few people who’d help you with a job while you stay with her. Namjoon attempts to butt in to ask more which she shuts down immediately, telling him the only thing he will be doing is resting until his wounds heal. Once that’s done, then he can entertain the idea of a job. He obeys, albeit hesitantly.

Your grandma goes to make lunch after helping Namjoon sit up enough on the couch to see the television. You sit on the floor directly in front of him, still feeling relief at how everything has turned out. You know you’ll still need to have a conversation with your mom about everything, but you’ll call her tomorrow maybe.

Unfortunately, your plan doesn’t go that way, when she barges into your grandma’s house while the three of you are eating, and watching tv, Sugar lounging in the middle of the floor.

She looks bewildered at the sight of all of you, but that turns into anger when she sees Namjoon, and then you. You set your bowl on the coffee table and leap up, shielding Namjoon from her glare.

“I didn’t believe Angela and Seokjin - I told them there was no way you’d do this. But you did. You’ve been messing around with a wolf, Y/n?!”

“Yeah, I have, and I’m not dead.”

“I can’t believe you kept this from me!”

“How could I tell you? You would’ve lost your shit and tried to forbid me. And I know you would’ve run and told Angela, who would’ve told the wolf force. But how could you know what’s going on - what’s truly going on - and not tell me or do anything about it?!”

“You don’t understand, Y/n. I’m your mother and it’s my job to protect you.”

“From what?! Because you were never protecting me from anything really except the truth that our entire town is fine with genocide! Do you know how evil that is?”

“That’s just the way it’s always been….” she frowns, her anger smoothing to something akin to sadness.

“That doesn’t make it right, and you know it! What the wolf force has done - what they’re doing now - is monstrous and disgusting.

“I…Y/n if you come back home, they’ll probably try and prosecute you. There’s no law for what you’ve done, but they’ll try and figure something out. I don’t know if Angela can do anything for you, or if she even will. She’s furious.”

“Then I’m not coming home. I refuse to be part of any community that is comfortable killing innocent people. And fuck Angela then! She always wanted to play the role of second mom but if this makes her cast me aside, so be it! And if you still support the wolf force, then I have nothing else to say to you.”

“Y/n…”

“I love Namjoon, and I’m not leaving him, nor am I letting him get hurt by anyone anymore. You can run and tell Angela and the Kims that if you want to.”

Unmistakable sadness and conflict are written on her face as she takes a step towards you, but you move away. She glances at your grandma, who shakes her head. You already know their relationship, even though they’ve worked to repair it, is still on thin ice when this topic comes up.

“I love you, Y/n.” Your mom says finally. You nod in response which seems to hit her hard as she gasps through what is very clearly a sob and turns on her heels to leave.

After she’s gone, no one speaks, and the only sound is the tv. You plop on the floor, shaking as you feel yet another crying spell coming. Namjoon wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

“Do you think she’ll really choose that town over me?” You choke out the question to your grandma, who has scooched over to hold your hand.

“I truly don’t know. Your mother is hard-headed and prideful - it’s why it took almost a year for her to speak to me again after I moved out. But, let’s hope she comes around to her senses sooner rather than later.” She kisses your hand before standing up to go to the bathroom.

After shedding tears over your mom, you finish eating and sleep on the floor in front of the couch to stay with Namjoon. You do that for the next few days until he’s feeling well enough to move to the guest bedroom to continue healing. You get a job at the grocery store working the cash register to start saving more to get you and Namjoon to the city, which is where you both decide you’ll be going.

It’s only a week after you and Namjoon fled when you’re coming back to your grandma’s after your shift, and you see your mom on her couch, crying into your grandma’s arms after a long-awaited, full reconciliation. When you come in, she bounds across the room, blubbering apologies about how foolish and wrong she was. She had let Angela and everyone around her convince her for her whole life that what was happening is normal and just the way things should operate, and she has been so wrong.

She wasn’t going to sacrifice her relationship with her daughter to keep accepting what’s happened, so broke up with Angela today. It was hard, and Angela was enraged that she was “turning her back” on her and the town; her behavior helped her make the decision easier. She kicked her out and has decided to find a new house close to your grandma. After more shared cries, you finally introduce her to Namjoon. It’s an awkward meeting, to say the least, but she makes an effort which you appreciate nonetheless.

As the weeks fly by, life almost feels as though it goes back to normal. Your mom sells your childhood home and moves everything in it into a smaller house around the corner from your grandma. You work as many shifts as you can, and your bank account seems more and more likely to be full enough for you and Namjoon to get a place in the city.

He seems to feel better as each new week hits and is eventually up and walking around your grandma’s house, and before you know it, he begins working at a cafe in town, doing his best to adapt to everyday life without having to hide who he is. Surprisingly, he acclimates rather quickly, falling into the swing of things.

Quicker than you would’ve expected, you and Namjoon have saved up enough to get your decent apartment in the city, and it’s been less than six months since your lives changed forever and almost a full year since you met Namjoon.

You’re packing the few things you’ve bought ahead of time into your mom’s car when you hear a ‘hi’ from behind you from a voice you had almost forgotten about.

Seokjin is standing behind you at the end of your grandma’s driveway, hands buried in his pockets. You blink at him a few times, but don’t make a move to walk towards him. For what it’s worth, even after everything, you did attempt to reach out to Seokjin, Chaerin, and Victoria.

Chaerin reached out first, texting you and berating you for the rumors she heard. When you confirmed them, she was furious and you both exchanged unkind words before you blocked her. Victoria on the other hand, blocked you before you even could text her.

You didn’t muster up the courage to reach out to Seokjin until a month after leaving, but you did try. You texted him, asking what was he even thinking about all of this. You never got a response, so you simply didn’t try again. There was no way he hadn’t read it or at least caught a glimpse that it was you, but it was clear he wouldn’t be responding, so you, in turn, wouldn’t be trying again. You were coming to terms with the fact that you’d never see him again and yet here he is.

“Are you leaving?” He gestures to the car, and you nod.

“Going into the city for good.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t say anything else so you sigh.

“Why are you here, Seokjin?”

“I…I don’t know actually. I just felt like I needed to talk to you.”

“It took you five months to just show up and see me? Is your phone broken because I seem to remember texting you and getting nothing in response?” You cross your arms after you finish speaking, watching him sputter a few times.

“Look, I know that I ignored your text. I just wasn’t ready to speak to you. I didn’t know what to say to you.”

“You weren’t ready to speak to me? I’m the one that should come over there and beat your ass!”

“What?! What the hell did I do?!”

“Your family has slaughtered people, Seokjin! And you didn’t believe me when I told you!”

“How was I supposed to believe you, Red?! My family fucking created the wolf force, that shit runs in my lineage!”

“Because why the fuck would I lie to you about something like this?!” Your screaming match has your mom, your grandma, and Namjoon coming out of the house, all of them bristling at the sight of Seokjin. Namjoon is at your side in a flash, noticeably on guard and ready to protect you from your ex-best friend.

“Of course, you’re going with him.” Seokjin sneers.

“Yeah, I am. He actually believes me when I tell him astronomical, literal life-threatening things.

“Oh, come on, Red, what do you want me to say? I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, okay? I’m sorry I was too jealous to properly listen to you tell me my family is nothing but a bunch of murderers. Is that what you want?”

“It’s a start. Apology acknowledged, so what are you doing to stop it?” You deadpan, watching him huff and cross his arms.

“What do you mean? They’re all gone now since you’re fucking the last of them, right?”

You frown, anger coursing through you. “Are you serious right now? Is nothing going to happen? Is no one going to acknowledge the atrocities your family has committed? Namjoon deserves some sort of apology, some compensation by someone, something!” Namjoon touches your arm, noticing how your annoyance shifted to anger, and now to rage.

“You and I both know none of that is happening. He’s alive, so be happy. Just don’t come back to town with him because I won’t be able to guarantee that to stay true.” The urge to go over and smack Seokjin nearly overcomes you, but Namjoon’s hand wrapping around yours and gripping helps ground you and keeps you next to him.

“Goodbye Seokjin.” You take a deep breath, steadying your breath before squeezing Namjoon’s hand back. You turn without another word, asking your mom if there’s anything you’ve left behind. She says no, and Seokjin watches as you say your goodbyes to your grandma, telling her you’ll see her soon and thanking her for taking you and Namjoon in.

He’s still there when you get into the car, Sugar in your lap. You lock eyes as your mom reverses and drives past him, onwards on the short drive to your new home, leaving everything and nearly everyone from your previous home, behind.

Life in the city isn’t as lonely as you were afraid it’d be. Other than Namjoon, you’ve got new friends now at your job as a receptionist at the local yoga studio and your classes at the community college have also given you new people to get to know and spend time with. You’re so busy with work and getting prepared to go back to vet school, that your new social and work lives do a good job of keeping you occupied while you cope with the loss of your past life.

Chaerin, Victoria, and the rest of your friends from home have seemed to easily forget you exist, which you have been able to mostly fare with. Seokjin has only attempted to reach out once, trying in a last-ditch effort to convince you to come back home. After you refuse once again, asking him, in turn, to understand why you’ve left, he still seems to believe what his family has done is somehow absolved. While it’s the hardest for you to settle with, you decide once and for all that your relationship is done.

Namjoon is so much more carefree after living a life where it’s safe for him to exist outside. His new job at the city plant nursery isn’t glamorous, but it lets him be around greenery and meet new people, which is more than he’s ever been able to do. Living - truly living - is much different than quickly running errands every few weeks, fearing for his life every time.

Tonight, Namjoon is still as newly optimistic as ever as he excitedly tells you that his boss may let him lead a bonsai clipping class soon, practically vibrating in his seat at the thought.

When you’re both finished eating dinner and he’s finished his story, he happily helps you clean up the table, Sugar begging for scraps at your feet the whole time.

“I still can’t believe it sometimes you know? Like, I’m out of the forest, I have friends, I’m building a life, and it’s all happening with the love of my life.”

“You’ve basically gone and got your happily ever after.” You giggle at your joke.

“Not yet. My real happily ever after will be after you say yes to being my mate for the rest of our lives.”

You jolt at the implication, dropping the plate in your hand into the sink. You turn to look at Namjoon, standing behind you holding a gold ring with a single diamond in it.

“Namjoon -”

“This isn’t the fanciest ring ever, but I promise I’ll get you a much better one once I can afford it. I’ll get you the better version of everything, so everything for you is perfect, just like you.”

It’s unexpected, a question you certainly didn’t see coming even in your dreams, but you have no hesitation in your heart. You practically leap into Namjoon’s arms, ‘yes’s’ tumbling from your mouth like a team chant.

“I love you so much,” you cry, peppering his jaw and neck in kisses.

“I love you too, Y/n. Thank you for truly giving me my happily ever after.” Namjoon says, his own eyes beginning to prick with tears. For both of you, a new chapter is only beginning as your old one, comes to an end.

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thesunicarusfellfor · 4 years ago

Note

The neither route was amazing! If you ever get ideas for it pls continue because i found it really interesting. You are a great writer.

Okay! This route actually made me very happy, but unfortunately, as much as I wanted to write it, I didn't know how exactly to do it? If that makes sense?

Context is HERE- The very end of the story is the Neither route.

TW: Anxiety, mentioned nightmares, mentioned Tubbo threatening Ranboo, guilt

I would also like to say that cuddling is platonic.

Left The Game (Plat!C!Ranboo x GN!Reader x Parental!C!Philza) Headcanon/Fic (Part 3???)

Ranboo Beloved joined the game.

(Y/n) (L/n) joined the game.

Michael Underscore-Beloved joined the game.

You and Ranboo tumbled out of the swirling portal and hit the ground with a hard thud, dirt and sand kicking up around you both upon impact.

Before you could comprehend what happened, a small squeal came from behind you and something slammed into your back, causing a groan to pull itself from your chest.

The monochrome male mumbled from beside you, his face practically buried in the grass which caused his words to be muffled.

His crown had rolled a few feet away, and his bags had opened as well, sending a few of his tools scattering, but everything seemed to be intact?

You slurred a mess of words before spitting out the sand that had gathered up in your mouth, attempting to tell the tall male that you were alive.

At least somewhat.

You both knew that you three had to drag yourselves into Phil's house, but the travel was so exhausting. Sleeping in the dirt sounded so tempting...

A quiet whine sounded from the weight on your back, reminding you that Michael had also come into the server with you.

When Ranboo got up, he picked the zombie piglin up from where he sat on your back, allowing you to get up.

You both, plus Michael who was resting on Ranboo's hip, began to pick up everything that had dropped out of the portal with you.

Once everything was gathered up, you three wandered through the iron doors of Philza's home and looked around curiously.

Two cats, one named Pog and one named Champ, came up to you both, chirping and meowing eagerly before pausing suddenly. They most likely expected Phil...

Michael gave a loud squealing noise at the sight of the cats and squirmed out of Ranboo's hold, running over to pet the cats.

Ranboo set off to find food in the chests, scribbling in his memory book the entire time.

You, on the other hand, dug through your bags to find materials you had brought to make three beds. One yellow, one grey and the other (f/c).

Once you placed each of them beside each other, Michael eagerly hopped into the middle one (the yellow one), while Ranboo walked over with plates of steamed carrots and baked potatoes.

"Stressed?" He mumbled softly, watching you stare down at your wrist where the tattoo of a heart with deep grooves in the center rested. The exact place the three hearts tattoos were, "I-I know, it's going to be a little different... But... Maybe it's a good different! ...Please, eat something and then get some sleep. Phil will check on us in the morning, and you know how he can get..."

With a smile, he handed you the plate and a fork before sitting on the floor at the foot of the beds with his own plate. Luckily he had given Michael a golden apple before he had gone to look for food, so the child was quietly drifting off to sleep, "Do... You really think that running was the best option?" You whispered, taking a bite of the vegetables.

"I... What else could we have done?" He frowned, setting his crown beside him before taking a bite of his own food, "We couldn't fight them... and they were definitely not going to let you go so easily. Hell... Tubbo... My own fiance was threatening to kill me because I was talking to you and caring for your burns!" He hissed, tilting his head back with his eyes pinched shut tightly, trying so hard not to cry.

You quickly walked over and moved his plate so it rested on his bed and you wrapped your arms around him tightly. The enderman hybrid eagerly returned the hug, crying into your shoulder so the fabric of your clothes soaked up his tears, "Should... I have just... Accepted their love, and maybe learn to love them back? For everyone's sake?" You whispered, your voice wavering as you tried to keep your composure.

"Absolutely not!" He yanked himself back from your shoulder to give you a glare, "That relationship would not have been healthy whether you loved either of them or not! They would've kept you locked away like a prized possession, and they would've severely hurt anyone who tried to interact with you!"

"I- I know... But..." You glanced down, but Ranboo tilted your head upwards so you were looking at him, but you still avoided eye contact so it didn't make him uncomfortable, "Your... Your relationship..."

Ranboo sighed, "I know. But, I'd rather that he showed me his true colours and I divorced him again for that, rather than him manipulating someone into loving him... and putting everyone else in danger in response. Now. We have a lot to do tomorrow. Finish eating and get some sleep."

The next morning, Philza practically slammed open the iron doors to his own house, looking a tad bit out of breath and a bit frazzled.

Once he saw you, Michael and Ranboo curled up in a small cuddle pile on the three different coloured beds, he gave a loud sigh of relief and adjusted his striped bucket hat.

Thankfully, the father of Minecraft let you three sleep for a little while before waking you and Ranboo up around noon.

First, he gave you both spare elytra's and so you could keep up with his massive black avian wings.

Ranboo's turned into massive black and purple dragon wings, while yours turned into (f/c) (f/a) wings.

Phil showed you both the end realm and his Endlantis, which he gave Ranboo special water protection potions so he could swim through the waters as well.

This man basically treated you three as if you were his own children!

Taught you how to fly.

Taught you how to cook properly.

Everything!

And basically survive with bare minimums.

Once you both got better at flying, a few months later, Philza rEAAALLY wanted to take you to the massive project he called Nether Void.

"Ready, mates?" Philza walked over and ruffled the hair on both your and Ranboo's heads with a soft smile, somehow unbothered by the blistering heat of the hellscape, "Double check your potions, armour durability and food supply."

Ranboo mostly stopped wearing his crown because it had problems staying on when he flew and because it had a lot of memories tied to it, so he didn't want it damaged. He had also stopped wearing his tux, instead, he wore plain black pants and a white ruffled poet shirt with a purple short cape that had a golden trim and gold chains, which was a gift from Philza.

You on the other hand wore something similar but with a(n) (f/c) poet shirt and a(n) (f/c) and gold cape. Your cape was also a gift from the fatherly figure as well, and so was the (f/c) infinity scarf type fabric wrapped around your shoulder over your chest that helped you carry and protect Michael as you flew, "Yep, we're ready to go, Mr. Dadza Minecraft!" You gave him a mock salute with a smile as he laughed.

Ranboo checked on Michael who was nibbling on a golden apple before he helped put the zombie piglin child into your scarf carrier, "Yeah, everyone seems safe!" He chirped softly as he adjusted his cape to spread his wings, shaking them out a bit in the heat of the lava.

"Let's go!" You cheered softly once you made sure Michael was 100% secure and wouldn't fall out somehow, "Food is stocked up and in my bag, as well as Regen and Health pots, and a first aid kit and two extra totems."

Philza gave you a proud father smile and took off first, hovering in the air for a few seconds as he waited for both of you to catch up. Thankfully, he knew very well that you both likely would never be able to catch up to his skill in flying as he had been born with massive feathered wings hundreds of years ago. You and Ranboo had never been into the air until a few months ago. Once you both caught up, he took off and soared through the burning hot nether.

Phil loved telling you both the stories of the lands. The Blaze Empress who lived in the Quartress, the foolish Ender King...

You and Ranboo always listened to his stories with such eagerness, often asking him to retell the stories when you were having a bad day or just wanted to relax.

The elder male actually greatly enjoyed having two children to raise again, even if he didn't have the best track record with sane children.

When he did leave to go to the DreamSMP, he would always promise you both that he would be safe and NEVER left without saying goodbye, even if he was angry or upset with either one of you.

He never wants his last words to someone to be filled with anger or hatred.

Somedays he would go to the SMP, you and Ranboo would not leave the house, just out of fear that he wouldn't come back, or that Tubbo and Tommy would come out instead of Phil.

Both you and Ranboo were plagued by nightmares very often for the first few weeks and woke up in tears in the middle of the night.

As old as Phil was, he had absolutely no problems comforting either of you in the middle of the night, same with Ranboo.

"Here mates..." He whispered softly as he handed you a hot beverage and gave Ranboo a grass block, "You're safe here... I promise. I would have to allow either of them into the server, and that would never happen... Especially now that I know what kind of people my sons are..."

You sighed and put your hand on Ranboo's back as he sobbed into your shoulder, using the fabric of his shirt to dry his tears before they burned his skin, "I know... I know... There's just the overwhelming fear that suddenly I'll wake up and I'll be back in the SMP and-and..." You decided not to finish your sentence, nuzzling into Ranboo's hair to try and keep yourself calm.

"Last I checked... Techno scared them off from the Tundra... But I haven't been in Snowchester or near the Embassy enough to know what Tubbo and Tommy are doing. But Ghostbur said that Tubbo has gone absolutely nuts... And Sam had to steal the nukes so Tubbo wouldn't destroy anything else... He also said Tommy on the other hand hasn't done anything except visit Dream in prison constantly."

Ranboo gave a shaky sigh and glanced over at Michael, most likely extremely happy that he brought his child along so he didn't have to deal with a psychotic Tubbo... Hell, he didn't know what would've happened to his kid if he did leave him. The thought caused him to give a small sob and hide his face again, holding onto you tighter and practically pulling your smaller form into his lap, trying to silently promise you safety and using you to remind him that he wasn't alone.

"We... we can't thank you enough, Phil... Really... You taught us so many life skills, kept us safe and promised us a safe haven... Allowed us to your private server..." You whispered, before feeling the warm cup being taken from your hand before a hand replaced it.

"Honestly... It's the least I can do to protect you both... You two have become two children to me, and, while I haven't been able to raise you from children like Techno, Wil and Tommy..." He didn't continue his sentence, struggling to form sentences, but both you and Ranboo understood and were quick to yank him into your little cuddle pile/hug, the two of you eagerly hugging him.

"Thank you... Dadza..."

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gale-gentlepenguin · 4 years ago

Text

ML Fic: Soulmate Survey Part 35

(Master post)

(Insert excuse on why it took so long) (Insert comedic joke on why I didn't update sooner) (plea of trying better) (Heartfelt compliment on why all of you are awesome and patient)

Okay so now that we got that out of the way. But in all seriousness. Thanks for your patience and I hope you enjoy.

If you do enjoy the fic, please Comment and reblog. Reblogs are like Gold on Tumblr and being a writer and posting to Tumblr is difficult. So every little bit helps.

Alright so now lets get to it.

_____________________________________________________________

The nurse heard the commotion going on in the halls. She knew that shortly after Chloé left, things outside the office became… restless. She turned off all the lights and locked the door to the nurse’s office. She did her best to stay quiet and not draw attention to the room. She knew those akuma were out there and she needed to focus on stabilizing her patient.

“I hope that Chloé managed to get that message out.” The nurse whispered to herself.

The woman felt weird pinning her hopes of escaping this place on a spoiled teenager, but at this point, beggars can’t be choosers.

She heard someone approach the door. The nurse felt her blood turn to ice. She refused to move a single inch. She hoped and prayed that the person would go away. She could hear the screams of students outside. She knew the akuma, whoever they were, were out there, and they were taking anyone they could find. Right now, all she could do was pray they don’t check.

“Please… for all that is good… let them leave.” She prayed under her breath.

After what felt like an eternity, she heard the sound of footsteps away from the door and everything returned to eerie silence.

She felt her essence sigh in relief.

She got up from the ground and went to go attend to the unconscious woman in the cot.

“Its strange for someone so young to be so exhausted… but then again, when I get into the line of work I am hoping for, it is likely I will be seeing a lot of cases like this.” Angela joked, trying to keep herself in good spirits. “Society is such a mess.”

Angela checked Nathalie’s pulse. It was present, but it felt off. It was weaker than she was expecting from someone of her age. Perhaps she has a much more serious medical condition. Angela would probably recommend that this woman see a professional when this is all said and done. Though for now, she was stable and calm, which was a very good sign.

The nurse considered that maybe she wasn’t getting an accurate reading, was something off with the assistant’s breathing? She would need to check. The nurse grabbed a stethoscope and moved closer, getting ready to check again.

“Ow!” She yelped as she felt something grab her arm. Nathalie had awaken and she had a firm grip on the woman's wrist.

“What are you doing!?” The surprised assistant exclaimed

“You're awake!? Oh, thank goodness.”

“Awake?”

“Yes, you passed out at a most stressful time. Right now, I recommend we keep our voices down.” The nurse hushed.

‘S***’

Nathalie mentally cursed to herself. She knew it had to be Masquerade. Her little episode resulted in her being far too late to get in and out without issue. She was planning on getting Adrien out of here before things went south.

She got up from the cot she had been laying in.

“Hold on a second.” Angela called out. “You need to stay and rest. I am glad you are conscious. But that sudden fainting spell could be indicative of…”

Nathalie did not have time for this. She gave an ice-cold glare at the nurse.

“If you intend on making me stay here, you will need to do so by force!”

The nurse felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up. This woman’s eyes clearly showed intent on fighting. Angela was not a fighter, she helped people, not hurt them.

“You are my patient, and there is a lot of danger outside. You are in no condition to go out there.”

Nathalie had to respect the woman’s guts for standing up to her, despite the nurse’s knees shaking as she maintained eye contact.

“Okay, so how will we deal with the akuma breaking in then.”

“What!”

Angela turned her back to Nathalie, who took full advantage, giving the school nurse a fierce chop to the neck. Causing the nurse to drop like a sack of potatoes.

“Rest up.”

Nathalie put the nurse in the cot that she had previously been resting in.

“Seems I don’t have time to be subtle. Duusu.”

The blue Kwami popped out.

“Nathalie! Do you want to play?”

“Yes Duusu, the game is find Adrien and get out of here.”

“Horray!”

“Duusu! Spread my feathers!”

_____________________________________________________________

“Get down!” Ladybug dived into Chat noir, helping them both avoid the pause symbols and deadly bubbles headed their way. The akuma on both sides of them managed to avoid the incoming attacks they had sent towards the heroes.

“Thanks LB.” Chat noir thanked. “While you are the second person I want to be dancing with. We can't keep dodging forever. Even if their moves are predictable. Maybe those masks are the key to stopping them."

“Hardly a dance, its ettiquette for the boy to lead if it is. And I don't think so. Those masks appear to be unbreakable and impossible to remove” Ladybug said as she pulled her partner quickly back up, both noticing the akuma were ready for more.

“We still haven’t tried cataclysm.” Chat noir comments as he runs and jumps over a trashcan to avoid getting nailed by Bubbler’s attack bubbles.

“Right, but that would leave you exposed. Call it a hunch, but we will need to save it for later.” Ladybug responds as she jumps away and opens a door to block several pause symbols. "Besides, do you want to be mask-less at this Akuma calamity?"

“I was going to say it was more like a Masquerade ball. And no I would not."

Ladybug rolled her eyes at the lame joke, but still had a bit of a smile. Lightening the mood.

"Silly kitty"

"But seriously, we need a plan. If we can’t free them, what can we do?”

Ladybug focused for a moment. She noticed the way they were attacking, it was predictable and slow. Normally the akuma change up their attacks, or at least seem more aware of what the heroes are doing. The akuma were acting a lot more like controlled puppets. Much like when she had to deal with Puppeteer. Seems this akuma had some drawbacks that could be exploited. This was where Ladybug realized there was a way to deal with them.

“We disarm them. Break Bubbler’s wand and I will terminate Lady Wifi’s phone plan. Their reflexes are way more sluggish than usual. My bet is that having so many servants is starting to have a drain on the effectiveness of her forces. We just need to act quick.”

“Alright, sounds good to me.”

“On my mark we charge.”

Ladybug kept an eye on both akuma, after they sent a flurry of attack, they would usually have to take a moment to recharge. Bubbler would need to dip his wand back into his bubble pack and Lady wifi would have her hand cramp after sending 10 swipe symbols and would need to pull her hand back.

“Now!”

Chat noir and Ladybug both pounced at the two akuma, moving fast enough that their foes couldn’t retaliate as the heroes swiped the weapons from their respective wielders.

“Sorry to burst your bubble.” Chat noir joked as he snapped the bubble wand.

“And you’ve reached your data limit for the month.” Ladybug chimed in as she crushed Lady Wifi’s phone.

Both akuma began swinging their fists at the heroes, trying to turn the fight into a bare-knuckle brawl. But Ladybug’s assessment was correct, their attacks were too predictable. Ladybug caught Lady Wifi’s fist and flipped her over her shoulder to the ground.

Chat noir ducked under bubbler’s punch and slipped behind him. The cat used his staff to swipe at the feet of the forward moving akuma and knocked him mask first onto the floor.

“Alright, their disarmed. Now what?”

“Move him over here.”

Chat noir picks up the akuma by his bubble pack and throws him over to ladybug like a curling stone.Ladybug uses her yo-yo to tie the two dazed akuma back to back.

“Let’s put them somewhere where they won’t cause any trouble.”

_____________________________________________________________

“Next!” Masquerade called out in annoyance.

She had gotten her akuma servants to capture as many teachers and students as possible. She had the element of surprise and with the amount of akuma she had at her disposal, it was easy to capture several. Though she figured none would escape and cause panic, Timebreaker was guarding the parameter and kept her informed of any people she ‘Tagged’. Horrificator finished sealing all of the exits so no one would be able to come in or out.

She figured there was a good chance for adding more akuma to her rank. The problem was, most of the akuma sucked. She ended up developing a system for them. If they turned out to have no useful ability, she would humiliate them, have reflekta turn her into replicas of herself and then have Princess Frangrance spray the rejects to turn into obedient servants, this way she had something useful out of them. Make them get snacks or whatever. There were multiple uses for mind-controlled students and teachers. So far, she didn’t find a single one worthy of her time.

“I SAID NEXT!” Masquerade shouted louder.

Masquerade sized up the black-haired girl that one of the Reflekta duplicates had pushed forward. She recognized the shy smile from television. She was one of the weather girls on the KIDZ+ network. That was a contest Lila would have KILLED to have been a part of. She mentally told herself she would have won if she had entered.

“Your Mirelle aren’t you?”

“Y-Yes, please don’t hurt me.” She pleaded.

Masquerade rolled her eyes.

“Let’s, see what the deepest parts of your mind hold.”

“Stop!’

Masquerade stopped to turn to the person that shouted.

“Well, well, well, seems we have both weather girls that go to this school.” Masquerade commented. “What a coincidence.”

Masquerade’s eyes went to the honey blonde weather girl. The akuma had to respect the fierce glare the girl was giving her.

“Aurore don’t.” Mirelle tried to plea.

“Fragrance, shut her up.”

The perfume akuma moved from the wall and sprayed the shy weather girl.”

“No!”

Masquerade felt her bracelet glow, indicating that there was an akuma victim present.”

“So, stormy weather, does this rain on your parade?”

“Don’t call me that!” Aurore spat with disgust.

“That loss still bothers you. How the city voted and you were blown out of the water.”

“I know your trying to get under my skin, it won’t work.” Aurore said. “I’ve dealt with Chloé, and she is way meaner.”

Masquerade kept her smile.

“You’re right, that wouldn’t bother me. The comments by everyone else questioning why you are there would. All of those people wondering what the point of that vote was. So now you have to constantly push harder and harder to prove you deserve to be there with Mirelle. It has become your obsession; the way people perceive you. You need to be the perfect weather girl, with the good looks and the good grades. You can’t let anyone begin to doubt your ability.”

Aurore felt her heart shatter at the comment. It was like this akuma had reached into her chest and pulled her heart out. She could see her biggest fear.

“Shut up! I am good enough! You can’t tell me otherwise.”

Masquerade felt a twinge of annoyance, but a sinister idea came into her head. She touched the perfume bottle charm, her colors shifted to match the color scheme of the Perfume akuma.

“Mirelle, tell her what she needs to here.”

The controlled weather girl felt something intrude in her mind, for a brief second, she winced, before turning into a creepy smile.

“Mirelle?”

Aurore felt her skin crawl as she turned to see her coworker and friend staring at her, a creepy smile on her face.

“You aren’t good enough. You were never good enough. You tried so hard to be charming and cute, but the network thinks your redundant. They were going to get rid of you as soon as they could. I hear they are aiming for the end of the month.” She sing-songed.

Aurore dropped to her knees. Her confidence shattered. She broke down, tears streamed down her face. She covered her hands to cry. To hear her say those awful things, was it true? Was she gone? Was all her work for nothing?

Mirelle’s creepy forced smile stayed, but from the corner of her eye, a single tear began streaming down her cheek. Unbeknown to Aurore, Masquerade was using the controlled teen like a ventriloquist dummy.

“Excellent work.”

Masquerade shifted back to her original colors and grabbed a mask from her dress before she flung it right at the depressed weather girl. She took joy in watching it clamp onto her face like an alien face-hugger. There was a brief moment of struggle, but Aurore was no more. Stormy weather had taken her place. Masquerade laughed as a new charm appeared on her bracelet.

“Finally, some better servants. And these powers are no joke.”

Stormy weather raised her umbrella at Masquerade.

“Oh? Are you trying to resist?”

The akuma’s arm was shaking, but then dropped. Her body becoming inactive, like a toy robot with its batteries removed.

“And there goes the last of your resistance. Now go out and find Ladybug and Chat noir. Lady Wifi and Bubbler haven’t returned.”

Stormy weather nodded and headed out of the classroom.

Masquerade noticed the cowering captured students and took a moment to appreciate the power she wielded. Sure, she would have preferred to have been loved by the school, but being feared is a close second.

Her joy was cut short when something pinged into her mind.

Requirements met for new akuma. Confirm merge?

‘Merge?’

Masquerade tried to figure out what that meant. What was merging.

‘The components for the akuma Oblivio are now available, would you like to merge the two akuma to make new akuma?’

“Oblivio? I don’t remember an akuma by that name?” Masquerade said to herself. “Well, if two people are needed to make it and it is making something new, it must be good. Confirm!”

A new charm appears on her bracelet, one in the shape of a question mark.

"Creating Lady Wifi, Bubbler, Oblivio fusion.'

“I wonder what this will bring.”

_____________________________________________________________

Hawkmoth got felt a sudden shift in the mood of his akuma.

"So Lila found a way to merge akuma with multiple different forms into one. And now she is able to create a completely new akuma. Perhaps Ladybug and Chat noir have finally met there match."

The butterfly villain rubbed his hands smugly as he continued observing. Though part of him wondered if Nathalie was able to secure Adrien safely.

_____________________________________________________________

“Okay, these should work.” Chat noir exclaimed as he opened two empty lockers.

Ladybug removed her yo-yo that had tied the two akuma together and shoved the two of them inside each locker before slamming it shut.

“We need something to lock them in for a while.” Ladybug exclaimed as she held the doors closed. The akuma started trying to break free. Moving in any way they could to bust out.

Chat noir looked around, looking for something to shove in front of the lockers.

“Ugh, there is nothing to barricade them with!” Chat noir exclaims.

“Just seal the doors.”

“Right!”

Chat noir put his hand on the lockers where the doors would open, he focused all his strength into his hands and crunched doors by the lock, making it impossible to open in the conventional way.

“That should hold it.” Chat noir exclaimed with relief.

Ladybug slid down the door as resistance finally ceased.

“I think they realized they can’t escape.” Chat noir eased.

Ladybug got up from the floor. They give each other a fist bump on their success.

“Well thankfully that deals with two troublesome akuma. Now we need to get to Lila before we get overrun with them.”

The two heroes quickly leave the locker room.

"By the way, you mentioned earlier I was the second person you wanted to be dancing with. Who is the first?"

Chat noir felt a faint blush on his cheeks.

"How about we talk dances later." Chat noir dodged the question.

Both heroes hurrying down the hall to try and get to Masquerade.

But after they left, the lockers they had left the akumas in started to shake wildly…

_____________________________________________________________

“Heads up!” Viperion exclaimed as he pulled Ryuuko out of the Akuma’s range. The vanishing miracular was a far more difficult opponent then both reptilian heroes were expecting. The akuma vanishes just before Ryuuko could retaliate.

“Every time we lose sight of her, she vanishes and I can’t get a clean hit!” Ryuuko grumbles.

Viperion looks around frantically.

“Yes, but I do believe we have some interesting intel. The akuma seems unable to use both her powers at the same time. She needs to turn visible in order to try and attack us with those Tonfa of hers” The snake hero explains

Ryuuko backs up, looking around to see if she can notice anything that could help her locate the sneaky servant.

“And whatever its other power is seems to involve using those Tonfa. Call it a hunch but we can’t let her use it on us.” Ryuuko discussed her instinctual feeling.

“Guard my back, she can’t sneak up on us if our backs are covered.” Viperion instructs. “Her strategy is very straight forward. We just need to wait for an opening”

“Got it.” Ryuuko says just as she notices something from the corner of her eye. “There you are.”

Ryuuko makes a charge at what appeared to be a wall, but her sword contacted Miracular’s tonfa. Forcing her visible again.

Viperion took noticed of the poor stance that Miracular had while blocking Ryuuko. He wasn’t an expert but even he could see that an unexpected hit would knock her off her feet.

He threw his lyre right at the akuma’s knees and made contact, the force causing her to buckle and Ryuuko disarmed the akuma by parrying her tonfa.

Viperion caught the weapons and broke them over his knee.

“Well that takes care of her weapons.”

Ryuuko noticed the akuma tried to get away but she dove tackled her before she could turn visable.

“Nice work. But what are we going to do to stop her from getting in the way?” Viperion inquired.

Ryuuko band the akuma's face repeatedly against the floor in order to break the mask. Sadly there was not even a scratch on it.

"Well this mask is durable. Might need to lock her somewhere."

The snake hero thought for a moment. he remembered back to a previous akuma attack. Chat noir had put him in a locker to be safe. He still remembered the playful wink the cat gave.

"Any ideas Viper piper?" Ryuuko inquired as she maintained her hold on the akuma.

"Huh? Oh right. Why not take to the locker room and throw her into a locker. She isn't super strong so we could easily just toss her in and lock it. Also, what is with the nickname?"

"I heard that giving people nicknames helps endear people to you."

"Okay, well you can keep trying, but I don't play pipes. What other ones do you have."

"... That was the only one I had... Ill try and come up with more as we go."

"Looking forward to it ... Dra-girl"

Ryuuko paused to look at him as she stood up with the akuma.

"Yea... It felt wrong as soon as I said it. Lets just go."

_____________________________________________________________

Chloé had given most of the akuma she encountered the slip. Not from expert hiding of fighting skill, she simply walked passed them. A normal individual would realize how amazing it was that as long as you don’t freak out, the akuma basically don’t notice. But to Chloé, it felt insulting. Did the akuma seriously believe she was not worth chasing?

“Un-be-lievable.” Chloé huffed. “Most of these akuma would have been chasing me like crazy by now.”

She grumbled to herself as she made it to the front entrance, which she realized had been slimed on.

“EWW, they got that nasty slime monster on their side.”

The mayor’s daughter felt a mix of disgust and annoyance. With this door sealed, she would need to get to one of the other exits, on the other side of the school.

“This would be a really good time for Ladybug to show up and let me be Queen bee.” Chloé stated aloud.

But the area she was in was practically empty.

“Figures.” Chloé sighed. “Why do these gross rejects always have to make things so annoying!”

Unfortunately for her, her complaints did attract some attention from a group of Reflekta copies roaming the halls.

“We order you to come with us!” The three reflektas sang in unison. Chloé didn’t know or care if the original was among them.

“How about no.” Chloé scoffed. She pushed one of them down and walked past them. The other two rushed to her to capture her. But Chloé easily knocked both of the reflektas down easy. The servants were not use to walking in heels. They may be controlled, but Chloé can tell when an amateur walking in gaudy heels from a mile away.

“You 3 need to learn how to walk and a lesson on fashion before you can even THINK of taking me hostage.” Chloé flipped her hair and smugly continued walking, as the three reflektas tried to get up.

Hidden from view, hiding in what appeared to be an abandoned janitor’s cleaning cart, an old man popped his head out slightly.

“Ladybug does need all the help she could get right now…But would she be the right choice?”

_____________________________________________________________ (End of Part 36.)

What other akuma will be joining Masquerade's ranks?

Will Ladybug and Chat noir be able to face the old and new threats?

Will Mayura cause more problems or solve em?

Also, what do you think this new akuma fusion will look like?

I would love to see your takes.

#ml #miraculous ladybug #ml soulmate survey #soulmate survey #ml fic #ml fanfic #miraculous fanfic #ss fic #ml au #slight lukagami #chloé bourgeois #masquerade akuma #fan akuma #drama #action #new akuma #ladynoig #ladybug #chat noir

495 notes · View notes

something-fanfiction-ie · 5 years ago

Text

The Years

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

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

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

___

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh boy, were you in trouble.

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

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ironwoman359 · 4 years ago

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Hey everyone! I’ve decided that I’m going to participate in No-Content November, for two big reasons (and one small one).

The first big reason is the reason everyone who’s participating is doing it: it’s to spread awareness of the sheer amount of content that is produced for free on the daily, often without much appreciation/interaction. For more info, check out this post.

The second big reason is that, idk if y’all have noticed, but I haven’t been posting much writing lately at all. That’s partly due to the pandemic making everyone more stressed, making it harder to focus and create the things I enjoy, and partly due to the lack of reblogs/interaction on stories I post severely affecting my motivation/excitement for a project. Other creators know exactly what I’m talking about: you get really excited about a work, pour a ton of energy into it, post it, and....no one seems to care at all. So I’m going to take this month to write fic for myself first and foremost, without the pressure of sharing, and I’ll begin to post them once the month is over. Hopefully this will give me a bit of a creative ‘reset’ and let me actually enjoy writing and posting writing again.

The small reason is I actually have a fic that’s been comissioned that I’ve had horrible writer’s block on, so maybe during this month I’ll actually be able to finish it

If you want to read my fic that I’ve written in the meantime while I’m refraining from posting, here’s my masterlist, and if you want to commission me, you can find out how/my terms here: Commission Info.

#taylor talks #no content november

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iliveiloveiwrite · 4 years ago

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A Reader Lives a Thousand Lives // D.M.

Summary: How could you describe your affinity for books? How could you explain what they mean to you? Draco tries to understand; he’s tried to understand for years.

A/N: I’m going to be honest: I’m struggling. I don't have writer’s block, but I am so busy atm that I feel awful about not being so active. I’m a key worker in the latest lockdown and my workload has tripled. On top of that, I have be tested twice a week and that’s enough to drain you completely. This isn't a long fic, and it probably isn't my usual standard, so please forgive me.

Warnings: book talk, lots of fluff, dates, friends to lovers, pining, mutual pining, dialogue heavy

Word count: 2.1k

How could you describe your affinity for books?

They had been there for you in times where not even your closest friends could offer you the best advice. They were there for you with every shift of your mood; you knew that you could turn to your shelves and somewhere, nestled between paperbacks and hardbacks, there would be the perfect read for your mood.

Put simply, books were your life.

Friends and family would fondly chuckle whenever they saw you, nose deep in whatever book had caught your attention. They knew not to disturb you. Instead, they knew to be there when the inevitable end would fall upon you, dragging you through its cliff-hanger or perfectly wrapped up ending.

Draco Malfoy had known you years, and he had never known you not to have a book in your hands or in your bag. On occasion, he had known you to carry a book in both, wanting something there in case you finished your current read.

He’s tried to understand your love of books. He’s a reader himself, but he has never understood how you could lose yourself in a fantasy world so quickly. Magic runs through your veins, yet you find it easier to read of fae and vampires instead of the witches and wizards of old.

Draco gave up trying to understand you long ago; deciding simply to admire you from afar. He cherished the friendship with you; adored it even, and if that meant he had to spend his only free weekend from work in a book shop with you, then so be it.

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

In Wizarding London there weren’t many places that catered to the publications of both muggle and magical authors. Flourish and Blotts was an excellent bookshop, but only housed books by wizards and witches. If one wanted something written by a muggle but did not want to wander into muggle society, they were best off wandering down a cobbled side street in Diagon Alley to Page Turners.

Draco knew the moment that he opened his front door to you this morning, that he was going to wind up walking through the front door of Page Turners. He had just finished his first chart review when his doorbell rang, and your knocking began. He made sure to put the lid on his fountain pen before answering the door to you.

Dark brown shelves line every wall, bordering the shop before giving away to shelves centred in the middle of the room. At first glance, the books seemed chaotic – hardbacks tucked in between smaller paperbacks, but upon closer inspection, it was clear that the books were doubled. For every paperback, there was its hardback equivalent. It looked like it shouldn’t make sense, but the further you walked into the shop, the more sense it made.

Every reader is particular. There are those who will only exclusively read paperbacks, preferring how portable they are. But there are those who much prefer hardbacks, wanting nothing more than to admire the foiled covers and sprayed edges that one can only get on special editions. The set-up of the shelves perfectly catered to that.

“Draco,” You gasp, trying your best to keep your hands to yourself until you found the books you wanted to take home with you, “Have you ever seen a place so wonderful?”

Draco’s eyes don’t leave your form as he answers, “I don’t know, I’ve seen some spectacular sights in my time.”

You don’t respond to the light flirtation, but Draco doesn’t miss the smile that crosses your face. You refuse to admit just how he makes your heart race with comments such as that; they fall from his mouth so easily that you often find yourself tied up in your emotions, wondering when on earth your feelings had turned from platonic to romantic.

Inhaling that all too familiar smell of worn leather and paper, you feel Draco’s presence behind you as you potter through the store, taking in the sheer amount of choices before you. “What’s your favourite book?” You ask absentmindedly, eyes still pouring over the surnames of authors.

He shrugs, shamefully admitting, “I haven’t read anything other than a medical journal in years.”

“Still,” You argue, “You must have a favourite book.”

He’s silent, pondering your words as he thinks back to the last time he was able to relax and read something that wasn’t for work. He thinks back to his childhood, practically hearing his mother’s voice in his ears as she recites her favourite fairytales before sending him to bed.

“It’s been so long,” He whispers, casting his gaze across the shop, in awe at the sheer amount of books he has not read.

“Then we should find you a new book to read,” You decide, stating your words with conviction as you reach for the blonde’s hand, beginning to pull him through the stacks of shelves like a woman on a mission.

“When would I have the time?” Draco argues, refusing to let go of your hand as you stop in front of a shelf filled to the brim with books.

You arch an eyebrow, “I think if I were to ask the nurses at St. Mungo’s, they would much prefer it if you would read a book instead of taking work home with you every night.”

“How do you know I do that?”

You snort, laughter brightening your eyes, “Because I know you, Draco.” Your expression turns more serious, “You need to take some time for yourself, Dray. You can’t work this hard all the time and not expect some repercussions.”

“I’m taking time for myself right now,” Draco counters, gesturing between you both with his free hand. He wasn’t going to let go of your hand until he had to; he enjoyed feeling your skin against his too much.

You roll your eyes, “You would be sat at home finishing charts if I hadn’t have shown up on your doorstep demanding your attention.”

Draco refuses to answer; knowing full well that you’ve caught him out. Before you showed up at his front door this morning, he had in fact been planning on spending the day in his office, finishing charts and then reading the latest journal on healing potions.

It hits him like a freight train then – how much time he has dedicated to his work, how much of his life had already given it. Draco adores being a Healer; much preferring this job to what was expected of him from his father. He walks into St. Mungo’s with anticipation and excitement settling deep within his bones because no two days there are the same; he doesn’t know what cases are going to land in his lap.

Yet, he gives so much of himself over to it that there is little left for him to enjoy. It happened slowly; Draco supposes. Taking a few charts home here and there, for him to finish in the comfort of his office, but then it spiralled into staying hours after his shift had finished, working on budgets and chart reviews, making sure everything is up to the standard it should be for the only magical hospital in the British Isles.

Before long, he hadn’t had a free weekend to himself in close to a year. If he wasn’t working at the hospital, he was working from home. If he was at the hospital, he was taking case after case. It wasn’t until Mary, the Head Nurse, had cornered him that Draco agreed he would take the weekend to himself – no charts, no reviews, no nothing. Mary even checked his bag before he left the hospital.

“You’re right,” Draco admits, the words rushing out of him in one breath.

“I usually am,” You tease, a wide smile on your face, “But what am I right about this time?”

“I don’t take time for myself. I don’t do anything for myself.”

Your gaze softens as you squeeze his hand, “Let’s find you something to read. If we don’t find something here, we’ll think of another plan.”

Draco nods, squeezing your hand in return. “Lead the way,” He offers, curious as to what books you would choose for him.

It doesn’t take long for you to find what you think Draco would like. You stick close to his interests, knowing just how much they have changed from your shared time at Hogwarts.

Offering him three books, you explain, “One is written by a muggle doctor, he explains twelve cases that he worked on specially as he battled an illness he didn’t know he was going to survive. The second is a classic novel, also written by a muggle author that I think you should read when you have more time on your hands – it’s Victorian so longer sentences, longer headaches. The third book is a mystery book that I enjoyed, and I thought you would too.”

“Thank you,” Draco murmurs, taking the small pile of paperbacks from you, holding them close as he gazes over their covers, wondering what exactly what is about him that drew you to these three particular books.

“What do you think?” You ask, a note of vulnerability in your voice. Choosing books for others had never truly been your strong suit despite how much you read.

Draco remains silent for a moment as he flips the books over in his hands, reading the blurbs. You chew on the inside of your cheek, worry settling in your gut. There had been an ulterior motive to you showing up on his doorstep this morning; he needed to leave the house and go out. Having known him years, you knew that Draco would spend his only free weekend of the month working, and you were not standing for it any longer. He didn’t have to choose the books you had picked out; Merlin, he didn’t to read at all, but he needed to do something else other than work.

“Well?” You prompt before sighing, “You don’t have to read a book, Dray. We can find something else; I just don’t want you to spend all your free time working.”

Draco looks up from the books, a small smile on his face, “I’ll take them. I like the sound of the first one you described.”

The smile that graces your face at Draco’s words tells him that he had made the right choice. The anxiety leaves you in a rush, leaving nothing but relief behind.

“What about you?” Draco asks, turning the subject back to you, “What are you going to buy?”

You shrug, “I’ve already picked a few but I wouldn’t mind looking for more. That is, if you’re okay with that?”

Draco is more than okay with that. He follows you around the shop, taking the basket of books from you when it looks to be getting too heavy.

“Why do you read so many books?” Draco asks before he can stop himself.

“A reader lives a thousand lives,” You murmur, flipping through the pages of one particular paperback. Draco resists the urge to roll his eyes when he sees the cover: a half-naked man wrapped up in a passionate embrace with a scantily clad woman. Romance novels were your current obsession, reading through dozens of them and still not getting your fill.

“Let me take you on a date,” Draco asks suddenly, the first notes of shyness creeping into his voice.

It’s as he watches you flick through the pages of the book in your hand that draco realises he has done this for years. He has watched you for years fall into fictional worlds and come out the other side with a new part of you for him to discover. He has watched you fall in love characters only to feel foolish once he realises the keen sting of jealousy is over a person who does not and will not exist.

Draco has watched this for years, and as he watches you add the romance novel to your basket, he realises he could do this for a lot longer. He wants nothing more than to ignore his work for the weekend if it meant he could troll around bookshops with you, watching you find more fictional worlds for you to fall in love all the while loving you just as intensely.

“What would you have in mind?” You counter, raising an eyebrow in curiosity, giving in to the butterflies raging in your gut.

He smiles, nonchalantly leaning against one of the bookshelves, watching as you reach for spine after spine. Draco knows exactly what he would plan for your date, but he would be damned if he was to tell you. Instead, he crosses his arms and leans forward, “That’s for me to know, and for you to find out.”

----------

Books mentioned:

Twelve Patients: Life and Death at Bellevue Hospital by Eric Manheimer

Dracula by Bram Stoker

The Glass House by Eve Chase

**********

General (HP) taglist: @chaotic-fae-queen @harrypotter289 @kalimagik @heloisedaphnebrightmore @nebulablakemurphy @figlia--della--luna @probably-peeves @big-galaxy-chaos @annasofiaearlobe @imboredandneedalife @levylovegood @awritingtree @haphazardhufflepuff @stupxfy @chaoticgirl04 @accio-rogers @starlightweasley @dreaming-about-fanfictions @lestersglitterglue @msmimimerton @obx-beach @izzytheninja @slytherinprincess03 @bbeauttyybbx @breadqueen95 @acciotwinz @kashishwrites @slytherinsunrise @kylosleftbuttcheek @remmyswritings @they-write-once-in-a-blue-moon @ria-rests-here @sarcasticallywitty15 @superbturtlemakerathlete @inglourious-imagines @ithilwen-lionheart @now-its-time-for-a-breakdown @ilovejjmaybank @theweasleysredhair @theonly1outof-a-billion @phuvioqhile @moatsnow @storyisnotover @himooonlight @missmulti @amourtentiaa

Draco Malfoy taglist: @the--queen-of-hell @obxmxybxnk @obx-beach @dracomalfoyswifey @sycathorn-slush @kashishwrites @justmesadgirl @detroitobsessed @aspiringsloth20 @just-a-belgian-girl @lahoete @minty-malfoy @fallinallinmendes @ravenclawbitch426 @ochrythum @beiahadid @gryffindors-weasley @dracosathenaeum

#draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader #draco malfoy imagines #draco malfoy imagine #Draco Malfoy

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sunlight-moonrise · 4 years ago

Text

The Five Dates (Reid Request)

Summary: Reader decides that she wants to help Spencer experience the things he missed out on when he was a teenager.

A/N: I had a couple of people ask for a part 2 to The Five Times so here it is. Originally was gonna leave that fic as a standalone but writer’s block on my other WIPs led to this sequel. I strongly recommend reading the first part before reading this one so that the story-line makes more sense. As always, thank you to the lovely @spencer-reid-in-a-pool and @wishingwellwriting for being fantastic betas. They have amazing fics, so if you need another Spencer Reid fix, they can most definitely deliver. Enjoy!

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: None

Word Count: 6.0K

Masterlist

The first date I had with my neighbor, I don’t think it really counted as a date.

Spencer and I were eating dinner at my apartment after he told me the man who tried to attack me was in custody. We were sitting on the couch with the TV on but I didn’t know what was playing since we were talking the whole time.

He told me that he does magic tricks, enjoys ghost stories, and loves to learn. In return, I told him my favorite hobbies, some habits that I can’t get out of, and food that I enjoy cooking. He listened with rapt attention, hanging on to every word I said. It was amazing being able to spend time with someone like this. It felt like I’ve known him for years rather than a few months.

“…and that’s probably my worst experience from school,” I finished, recounting the tales of my teenage years. “What about you? Anything you wish you can take back from the early days?”

Spencer suddenly turned away from me and became silent. I looked at him in confusion. Was it something I said? Did I offend him?

“Oh, I—I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” I asked, my voice coming out as a whisper because of how low I spoke.

He quickly shook his head, as if driving away some bad thoughts that plagued his mind. “It’s not you. It’s just that I was a 12-year-old prodigy at a public high school in Vegas. I didn’t have a lot of fun experiences.”

I could hear the sorrow in his words when he told me this. I know how cruel kids could be, especially to someone they considered an outcast. My heart ached for the little boy who went through so much misery at such an early age.

There were a few more seconds of silence before I had a lightbulb moment. “Well, maybe we can change that,” I suggested. “We can do some things that typical teenagers do.” A million ideas immediately came to mind. We can go bowling or ice skating or bike riding.

“I don’t know. I kind of got over that point of my life.”

“Oh.” There was no hiding the sadness in my voice, which made me feel worse. There’s no reason for me to feel dejected over his statement. I shouldn’t be so selfish.

Spencer must have sensed that something was off with me because he quickly tried to correct himself. “It’s not that I don’t want to have these experiences. I just find it embarrassing that I haven’t had them yet, even now.”

“I’m not going to judge you, Spencer. I don’t want you to feel embarrassed with me,” I assured him. I moved my hand towards his as an offer to hold, which he surprisingly took. His hand completely enveloped mine. “Tell me some things that you’ve always wanted to do when you were younger but never got the chance.”

He took a moment to think while I anxiously waited for his response. “I never had the chance to have a sleepover. I had too many responsibilities at the time. I always wanted to go to a festival or a carnival. I also—” he suddenly stopped talking. I noticed his face turning slightly red as he bit his lower lip, his other hand patting against his leg.

“What is it, Spencer?”

“I-uh always wanted to wine and dine a girl, maybe take her to see a play or movie. I wanted to take an evening stroll and just stargaze for a while.” His voice became smaller the more he talked. I hated that he started to feel self-conscious around me but knew that it couldn’t be helped. I was going to change that. I was going to make sure that Spencer Reid experienced teenage fun.

“Anyway, it’s getting late,” he said, removing his hand from mine. “I have to go in tomorrow and I am sure you have an early day as well.”

“Let me put these dishes away and I’ll walk you to the door.” I grabbed our plates and walked to the kitchen, placing them in the sink. My mind was racing with thoughts on what to do for Spencer. When I returned to the living room, he was already by the hallway, grabbing his belongings.

I slowly opened the door for him, watching as he stepped out of the apartment. Before he made it too far, I grabbed the sleeve of his arm, prompting him to turn around. Here goes nothing.

“Spencer Reid, would you like to go on a date with me?” I asked, the pitch of my voice a lot higher than normal. Despite feeling nervous, I made sure to look him in the eye and maintain contact. He stared back at me, mouth agape while his face was turning pink.

“Are you sure?” he questioned, looking down at his feet. Mental note: build up Dr. Reid’s confidence, at least around me.

“I have never been more certain of anything in my life,” I answered honestly. I smiled at him when I noticed his lips tugging upwards.

“Yes. I would like to go on a date with you, (Y/N).” The smile on his face was adorable and I was happy to be the cause of it. “Uh m-maybe I could get your number, so that we can talk,” he added.

“Sure.” I took my phone from my pocket before giving it to him. He put in his number, a bit slowly but I wasn’t complaining. I saw it as more time I got to spend with him. Once he handed my phone back, we just stood in front of each other for a while.

Before I lost my resolve, I stood on my tiptoes and pressed my lips against his cheek. Before either of us could do anything, I muttered a quick “Goodnight Dr. Reid,” and closed the door. My heart thumped erratically as I slid down the door.

“Goodnight (Y/N)” I heard through the block keeping us apart. His footsteps got quieter and quieter until he eventually opened and closed his own door.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely infatuated with Spencer Reid.

●●●

The second date I had with Dr. Reid, I was a nervous wreck.

Spencer and I have been texting back and forth these last few days. Luckily, we were both free this weekend, so we planned on going out. I haven’t told him yet where we’re going, much to his dismay. The only hint I gave him was to dress casually.

I’ve done some research and found that there was a food festival happening Saturday afternoon. A lot of local restaurants will have stands and distant establishments will be sending food trucks. Their theme is “Around the World” so we’ll get to explore various cultures. I’m hoping we can learn some new things from the different cuisines that would be showcased.

Saturday came around and I made sure I had everything ready. I wanted our date to go off without a hitch. I wanted this to be one of Spencer’s best experiences.

I heard a knock on my door, causing my heart to pick up a bit. I don’t know why I started to sweat. Sure, I’m going on a date with a good looking and successful man but there’s nothing to be nervous about, right? Right.

I heard another knock, more hesitant this time. I quickly made my way towards my door, taking a deep breath before opening it. Thank the angels I took in that breath because I immediately lost it again at the sight of him.

Spencer was holding a bouquet of flowers in his hand. Lavender roses and red carnations were a few that I could identify. I think the purple flower might be an orchid.

He lifted them towards me, a slight tremor in his hands. “These are for you.”

“They’re lovely Spencer, thank you.” I grabbed the flowers from him, taking in the smell of the blossoms. “I’m going to put these in a vase. I’ll be right back.”

I made my way to the living room to do just that. I grabbed my bag and a jacket before checking myself in the mirror one last time. Happy with my appearance, I returned back to Spencer. I shut the door behind us as we walked towards the elevator.

“You look beautiful, by the way,” Spencer said as we entered the elevator. I can tell he was still nervous, the thrumming of his fingers against one another and the bouncing on his feet a few signs hinting towards his anxious state.

“You look dashing as well. Although I do remember telling you to dress casually, mister,” I said, a small smile appearing on my face at the sight of his own.

Spencer was wearing a dark pair of slacks with a light purple button-down shirt. His hair was slicked and combed back. He was rocking back and forth on his beat-upped chucks and I can see the mismatched socks peeking through. He looked a bit silly, especially considering where we are going, but handsome nonetheless.

“I don’t have casual clothing. Plus I wanted to look good for you.” I could feel my face getting warm because of his words. “By the way, it’s doctor.”

I giggled at his comment, which caused him to laugh as well. We exited the elevator and out of the lobby.

“We’re going to take the subway to our destination,” I informed him. “It should take less than half an hour to get there.”

“Are you going to tell me where we’re going now?”

“It’s still a surprise, doctor,” I beamed at him.

Fortunately, we did not experience any delays on the train. We spent the duration of the commute getting to know one another even more. He told me some stories involving outings with his co-workers and I could tell that he really loved each and every one of them. I shared some work stories and funny memories with my colleagues as well.

Once we got to our stop, I grabbed his hand and led us to the festival. It was a 10-minute walk from the exit. I turned to him as soon as I saw our destination within our sights.

“A food and wine festival?” he questioned.

“Yeah, I know this isn’t exactly what you had in mind when we were talking the other day but I thou—“

“I like it, especially since I’m spending the day with you.” There goes my heart again, picking up pace as if I ran a marathon. I’m sure he says these things on purpose just to see me flustered.

Spencer squeezed my hand in his and we explored the grounds. We decided to share a plate from each stall so that we can experience as much as possible. Spencer walked us to the first stall he saw, which showcased food from the Philippines.

“Did you know that Filipino food draws roots from their neighboring Asian nations as well as some Spanish countries?” he stated as we looked at the menu, “It is considered to be a perfect blend of Western and Eastern food. Actually—” he suddenly stopped himself. I looked at him curiously, wondering what caused his interruption.

“Sorry, I have a tendency to ramble.”

“There’s no need to apologize. I want to hear what you have to say. Let’s order something and you can finish telling me.”

He smiled brightly at me and squeezed my hand. After ordering a siopao to share, we sat at a table while he finished telling me facts about Filipino cuisine. As a matter of fact, he told me a lot of information about various cultures and countries as we walked from vendor to vendor.

We tried risotto from an Italian booth, which Spencer said was not as good as his friend’s cooking. We also got carne asada tacos from a Mexican food truck, where I discovered that tomatoes, dragon fruit, and vanilla originated from Mexico. We ate some sake nigiri sushi from a Japanese stand. I found out that Spencer cannot use chopsticks to save his life. I decided to feed him so that he doesn’t accidentally drop our food. We ventured to numerous vendors and had our fill in almost everything that was offered. We even had desserts and some drinks.

By the time Spencer and I made it back to our apartments, we were both stuffed. I was close to going into a food coma and I knew Spencer wasn’t far behind either.

“I don’t think I’ve ever eaten that much food in my life,” he commented as we stood in front of my door.

“You and me both. I’m sure I gained 10 pounds,” I joked, enjoying the way he laughed at my attempt at being humorous. I still held his hand in mine, not wanting the evening to end, but I knew it had to. We had spent the whole day together and we were tired.

Spencer made the decision for us. He lifted my hand, placed a chaste kiss on my knuckles and wished me sweet dreams before he retreated to his own home.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely charmed by Spencer Reid.

●●●

The third date I had with Spencer was ruined, but then fixed.

I was organizing a picnic basket when I received a call from him. I was puzzled as to why he was calling, especially when we’re supposed to meet up in a couple of hours.

“Hey (Y/N)” His voice came out gruff as if he just woke up.

“Hi Spencer, are you okay?” I heard some coughs coming from his end and I immediately became concerned over his well-being

“I don’t think I can go out this afternoon. I’ve been sick these past few days. I was really hoping to get back on my feet by now. I am so sorry.”

Before he could say anything else, because I knew he would in his remorseful state, I interrupted him. “Spencer, it's fine. We’ll raincheck,” I assured him. He tried to thank me, but another set of coughs came over. These sounded worse than the first ones.

Spencer managed to get out a goodbye before hanging up the phone. I contemplated what to do. He sounded so sick and miserable on the phone. He likely has a sore throat, maybe even muscle aches. The idea of him alone and shivering caused a dull pain in me.

I decided that I was going to see this man. I could make him something warm to eat and lend him my thickest blanket. We could even watch a movie together too.

With that in mind, I made some chicken soup and herbal tea. I put the items in containers before placing them in my picnic basket. I grabbed my largest and heaviest blanket, placing it over my shoulder. It wouldn’t fit in the basket, no matter how many times I folded it. Lastly, I grabbed my laptop, so that we can stream movies. Spencer once told me he wasn’t big on technology so I had no idea whether he owned a TV or not.

Once I had all the essential items, I made my way across the hall, knocking on his door. Unsurprisingly, it took a while for him to open the door. I waited a minute or two before he answered and was disheartened by what I saw.

Spencer was pale, well paler than usual, with a light sheen of sweat on his forehead. His under eyes were dark and his nose was so red. He wore a robe over his pajamas. He looked as if he was about to fall over any second now.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, eyeing the blanket wrapped around me. His voice was slightly slurred and he was leaning on the doorframe to keep himself up.

“Well I figured since I couldn’t take you out on a picnic, I’ll take the picnic to you.”

He looked down at my hands, noticing the basket I was holding.

“You shouldn’t be around me, you’ll get sick.”

“Spencer Reid, you’re worth the cooties. May I please come in?”

He relented, leaving the door open for me to follow. I took in his apartment, appreciating his more vintage style. He had a massive collection of books, some of them in languages I couldn’t even identify.

“You have a miniature bookstore in here,” I commented. I turned towards him, seeing his figure laying down on the couch.

“I like to read,” he simply said, the words muffled by the couch cushion he was lying on. I went towards him, shrugging off the blanket from me and placing it on top of his lap.

“If you get cold, use this to keep you warm. I’m going to heat up the soup and tea. Try to stay awake for me.”

Spencer nodded his head, bunching up the soft material in his hands. I quickly grabbed the content from the basket and dashed to the kitchen. It took me a few minutes to find where he puts his utensils, but I had everything taken care of in no time. I even found a tray to help me carry the food.

I brought the dishes to him, warning him of the heat. “I hope you like chicken soup and ginger tea. I added some honey to satisfy your sweet tooth.” He thanked me, holding the bowl close to him to keep him warm. I settled myself on the couch next to him, happy that he wasn’t complaining about our proximity.

“I have my laptop with me. We can watch some movies if you want.”

“I’d like that a lot.” We ended up watching The Matrix and Minority Report. Spencer tried his best to stay quiet during the films, but couldn’t help but to comment about certain technicalities and improbabilities. I found his rambling endearing, adding in my own opinions after he finished sharing his thoughts. I had to remind him to not strain his voice when he got on a tangent on how the idea of living in a simulation is not possible. He lost me once he started talking about quantum physics.

Spencer looked at the clock, noticing the late hour. “Are you going to leave?” His voice was low, and I am positive it was not because of his ill state. He was talking with passion and intensity a few moments ago.

“Do you want me to?”

“No. Is that selfish of me?” My heart skipped a beat. Knowing that he wanted me to stay with him gave me feelings I couldn’t quite describe.

“Of course not, Spence. We could have that sleepover you missed out on,” I stated enthusiastically. He stared at me for a moment, and I wondered if I misunderstood the situation. Before I could apologize for my assumption, he started talking.

“That’s the first time you called me Spence.” He’s right. All this time I’ve been addressing him as Spencer or Dr. Reid. “I like it,” he finished.

“Let me grab my pajamas and some toiletries. I’ll be back before you know it.”

I sprinted to my apartment, changing into my sleepwear and grabbing my necessities before returning to Spencer’s. I am sure I was there and back under five minutes.

Spencer and I continued our evening playing board games. We played some chess (which I lost at) as well as poker (which I also lost at). He showed some card tricks and tried to teach me a basic one. I couldn’t do it as smoothly, but he said that with practice I could become a magician.

I knew the night was coming to an end when he began to yawn every few minutes. Despite saying that he could stay up longer, his body needed to recover.

“You should take my bedroom,” he offered after coming back from the restroom, “You’ll be comfortable there.”

“Absolutely not. Slumber Party rules dictate that we sleep in the same room.” He laughed at my proclamation.

“That’s not true.”

“Yes, it is. Now I’m going to use your bathroom. Do you keep your spare sheets in the closet?”

He nodded drowsily as I made my way to his bathroom. I did my nightly routine and grabbed a blanket from the closet. When I returned to Spencer, he was already dozing off.

He looked so peaceful at this moment, I’ve never seen such a look on him. I kissed the bridge of his nose and made my way to the armchair.

I settled myself as comfortably as I can.. Before I fell asleep, I could have sworn I heard a “Goodnight” coming from his direction. When I peeked to see if he was awake, his eyes were still closed but he had a wide smile on his face.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely captivated by Spencer Reid.

●●●

The fourth date I had with Spence, he was in charge.

Spencer told me that he wanted to take me out as a way to show his gratitude. I wanted to tell him that it was unnecessary, but he looked so eager and I didn’t want to take that away. Plus, I was looking forward to whatever he came up with. I know that with Spencer, I am bound to have a good time.

He kept everything a secret for me, which was no surprise considering how our first official date went down. The only thing he told me was to dress nicely, yet comfortably.

My body was pulsating with excitement. I made sure to spend extra time with my makeup. I didn’t want to go overboard, but I definitely wanted to accentuate my features. I chose to wear a maxi skirt with my favorite blouse. I added a few accessories and paired everything with some heels.

I didn’t have to wait long before hearing a knock on the door. He always seems to have impeccable timing. I practically floated towards my door with how happy I was.

Spencer was dressed in black dress pants and a deep blue button-down. The outfit was accompanied with a dark tie and blazer combo. He even had dress shoes on, which came as a surprise since this man loves his chucks.

“You look as handsome as always, Doc.” He smiled at my words. I love that he was more comfortable with my compliments. It seems like we came a long way from him stammering over his words and fidgeting with his hands. Although I must admit that I am going to miss his bashful behavior.

“I got this for you.” He revealed what appeared to be a corsage in his hands, the flowers of the accessory matching the one pinned to his blazer. “Uh- I-I know it is probably a bit um juvenile. You don’t have to wear it if you don’t want to.”

“Spence, I love it. And I’ll love it more if you put it on me.”

He beamed at me, taking the corsage out of the casing and carefully securing it on my wrist. He was so gentle and patient while doing the task. Once he was done, we headed down to the lobby.

“I hope you don’t mind that I am driving,” he said as we made our way to what I assumed to be his car, a two-door pale blue Volvo. I was not surprised, this is his exact style.

“As long as you get us to our location in one piece, I don’t mind at all.” He opened my door for me before settling in on the driver’s side.

As Spencer drove, we talked about the antique style of his possessions. He shared that his Mom had a similar taste and he was very close to her when he was younger. I wanted to ask more, elated that he was telling me about his family, but decided to hold back. The way his voice wavered as he was talking showed me that this was a major effort for him. I decided to share some stories about my family and their influence over my own lifestyle.

Time always seems to fly with Spencer because before I knew it we were already parked. Being the chivalrous man that he is, Spencer made sure to open my door for me. He held my hand as we walked to the restaurant. I admired the ambiance of the venue. There was a band playing soft jazz music and lights scattered upon the ceiling. The décor was beautiful and the overall atmosphere was very cozy.

The hostess led us to our seats after Spencer informed her of our reservation. We sat at a corner table, providing us the perfect amount of privacy.

“Have you been here before?” I asked.

“No, I haven’t. As a matter of fact, a friend of mine recommended this place. He said that it was the perfect place to...uh, woo a girl.”

“Well, I am entirely wooed. But that is mostly due to the present company.” He smiled at me, before looking at the menu. I decided to do the same after noticing the pink tint at the tip of his ears. I still got it.

The rest of our dinner went smoothly. We ordered our meals as well as a glass of wine, in which I was informed of the many health benefits that come with drinking a glass of red. I was able to convince Spencer to show me a magic trick using a coin and napkin. He did it multiple times, yet I couldn’t find out how it worked. We talked about music, literature, art and so much more. We were so deep into our conversation that we didn’t notice our food had arrived.

My food smelled amazing and tasted even better. I couldn’t help but ask Spencer for a bite of his. He was willing to share as long as he got a piece of my food as well. We ended up splitting our meals with each other.

After paying for the entire bill, much to my protest, Spencer took my hand and led me out of the restaurant. I thought it would be the end of our night together but was wrong. Spencer said that there was one more surprise for me.

The car ride this time was a bit on the longer side and I wondered where on earth he could be taking us. It wasn’t until I saw a sign that a large smile appeared on my face.

“A drive-in theater?” I excitedly asked.

“Yes,” he confirmed, “I hope you don’t mind watching a scary movie.”

“As long as you don’t mind me holding you when I get scared.”

“Deal.”

It was not difficult to find a good spot to enjoy the film. I screamed and jumped multiple times for two hours straight, much to Spencer’s amusement. He attempted to distract me by telling me facts about certain aspects of the movie which marginally helped. By the end of the film, I had started to get drowsy due to all the mini shots of adrenaline.

“Did you have fun?” he asked as he drove us home. I could hear the uneasiness in his question. I’m not sure why he was nervous, this was hands down the most fun I ever had on a date.

“Of course, Spence. This had to be the best date I ever went on. Thank you.”

He smiled widely at the road and I made sure to cherish the moment. It was not often that I got to see such a large grin on Spencer’s face. Happiness was such a good look on him. It makes him appear much more lively and handsome.

I closed my eyes, allowing them to rest momentarily. I didn’t expect to be so tired from an outing. The motion of the car driving on smooth pavement was almost like a lullaby that lured me into a light slumber.

I’m not sure how much time has passed before I was lifted into someone’s arms. If it wasn’t for the scent of coffee and cinnamon, I surely would have panicked. I felt the press of warm lips on my forehead and couldn’t stop the sigh that left my mouth. I buried my head deeper into the arms that cradled me.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I definitely adored Spencer Reid.

●●●

The fifth date I had with Spencer was unplanned.

Spencer has been going on cases more often recently, so we didn’t have a chance to meet. We’ve been texting one another, even calling if time allows it, but I wanted to see him.

When he told me that he was finally flying back home, I decided to meet him at his job. I considered whether or not this would be crossing boundaries, but chose to accept the consequences of my actions later.

The drive to the building where Spencer works was not as long as I imagined. After receiving a visitor’s pass from the front desk and a vague direction of where to go, I found myself lost on the sixth floor.

“Can I help you sweetheart?” a feminine voice asked me. I turned to see a brightly colored fashionista in front of me. I was in awe of her vibrant attire. “Hun?”

“Oh uh, I’m sorry. I’m—I’m waiting for Spencer Reid to return. Umm, is there a place where I can wait for him?”

She beamed at me, her comforting smile providing me some relief. “The team isn’t coming for another half hour. You can wait in my office if you’d like.”

I nodded my head and followed her, taking in my surroundings. I have never been in such an official building before.

“Here we are,” said the kind stranger, leading me to a room filled with a bunch of monitors and computers. “I’m Penelope by the way. I work with Spencer and friends.”

“I’m (Y/N), Spencer’s neighbor.” I practically saw a lightbulb go over her head as she let out a squeal. Penelope started talking a mile a minute, I couldn’t understand what she was saying. It wasn’t until she saw the bewildered expression on my face that she paused and took a deep breath.

“I’m sorry, it’s just that Spencer has spoken about you a few times. I didn’t want to assume initially but I figured who you were earlier. Our resident genius doesn’t get many visitors here.”

My face heated up. I was stuck on the fact that Spencer spoke about me to his colleagues, the people he considers his second family. I wondered what he said. Hopefully nothing too embarrassing, he always seems to catch me at some mortifying moments.

“Anyway,” Penelope continued, “you have to tell me about yourself. Spencer doesn’t share enough details and I promised not to search you up.”

For the next half hour, Penelope and I traded information about ourselves. She told me how she got the job as a technical analyst and some other activities she does outside of work while I told her about my typical routine and favorite pastimes.

Penelope’s phone vibrated and she immediately looked at her screen. “They’re here. Let’s go meet them upfront.”

We walked back to where I came from, standing in front of the elevators. We didn’t have to wait long for the doors to open before I saw a pack of people exiting. My eyes instantly landed on Spencer, he was the tallest in the group.

Spencer was currently looking at his phone, typing something on the screen. He finally brought his head up once he put his cell away and I felt mine vibrate with a notification. Once his eyes landed on me, he pushed past the people he was with and darted towards me.

I opened my arms as he drew me into a tight hug. It is a shame that I have not embraced Spencer more because he gives the best hugs. Everything about him automatically puts me in a tranquil state of mind.

“What are you doing here?” he asked once he put some space between us.

“I wanted to see you. Is that okay?”

“It’s more than okay. I missed you.” That beautiful smile graced his face one more. How is it possible that this man is in my life?

The sound of someone clearing their throat pulled Spencer and I away from our bubble. My face heated up as I saw his friends surrounding us.

“Who’s this pretty lady Reid?” asked the muscular man. I looked at all his colleagues, recognizing the blonde as the woman who was at his apartment a couple of months ago. That was when I mistakenly thought she was his girlfriend. She smiled at me, no doubt knowing who I was.

“This is (Y/N), she’s my gi—uh she’s my ummm …” he trailed off, glancing at me. I didn’t notice that we have yet to establish our relationship with one another.

“I’m his neighbor,” I finished. Spencer introduced me to his team before telling me to wait while he gathered his belongings. During his absence, Penelope convinced me to join her for a girl’s night out in the future with the other ladies. I couldn’t say no to the offer, her enthusiasm was seeping through her pores.

When Spencer returned, he grabbed my hand and said his goodbyes while leading us to the elevator. I saw Penelope whisper excitedly to the muscular man that I learned was named Derek, before the doors even got a chance to close.

“My car is here. I can drive us back home,” I informed Spencer.

He nodded his head as we exited the building and made our way to the car. I know that Spencer does not particularly like to discuss his cases, so instead I asked him questions of the places he has been at recently and whether he had the chance to explore. He animatedly told me of a book he purchased that was in a foreign language as well as a vinyl record he got at a music store.

“Can we go to the park?” he suddenly asked. I was a bit confused but decided not to question him.

“Yea, sure.”

The park was not far from where we currently were. After finding a spot and getting out, he took my hand in his once again, leading us down a serene trail. The sound of crickets chirping while the soft wind breezed through us was very relaxing. I looked up at the sky, taking in the tiny visible stars and full moon.

Spencer stopped walking in the middle of the trail, tugging my hand so that I was closer to him. He stared at me as his tongue brushed across his lips.

“(Y/N)?” His voice had that shy tone once again.

“Yes, Spencer?” He brought his hand up to tuck some loose strands of hair behind my ear.

“May I kiss you?”

My heart started racing at his question. Yes, yes, a thousand times yes. My voice was stuck in my throat so I nodded my head instead.

Spencer’s hand gently held my cheek as he leaned down towards me. I closed my eyes once his soft lips landed on mine, wrapping my free hand around his neck. He tasted sweet, as I knew he would. I pressed more firmly against him, enjoying the sound of his moan when I swept my tongue across his lower lip. He allowed me to explore his mouth as he did the same to me.

I pulled away after a while to catch my breath. Spencer placed his forehead against mine, breathing heavier than I have ever seen.

“(Y/N)?” he panted out, his voice a lot more confident than it was beforehand.

“Yes, Spencer?”

“Would you like to be my girlfriend?”

I looked into his gentle hazel eyes, embracing all the emotions he was showing me through them. That gorgeous smile adorned his face once more. He looked so beautiful right here.

“I would love to be your girlfriend, Spence.”

I captured his lips this time around, relishing the warmth of his mouth on mine.

At that moment I couldn’t help but think that I was definitely in love with Spencer Reid.

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