#but dream me realized that we were driving in the middle of the road | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lovingmattysposts · 2 months

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Quiet 3

P1 P2 P4 P5 P6 P7

pairing: y/n and Matt sturniolo

summary: a girl with a lot of baggage and a boy with even more try to help put each others pieces back together one by one. A story about a girl who’s broken and a boy who doesn’t talk.

warnings: mentions of bullying

"Thank you for what you did today, you didn't have to do that" I mumbled as we walked. He just looked down at me for a brief second and then shrugged.

"Tell your mom the sandwich was good" I chuckled up at him. His face twisted and he looked down at me with a cloud of hurt. My mouth opened to ask him what I said but he just looked away from me and kicked off his feet in other direction.

"Wait! Quiet boy!" I yelled but he was already aways away from me. I sighed of defeat. I bit my lip as he walked away from me. "Wait" I whispered to myself.

I felt like I had a bad magnet attached to me. Everywhere I went I repelled people. I swallowed before looking down at my feet before walking forward towards my house.

I wanted to figure him out, but another part of me didn't. He seemed complicated, but who isn't?

"Pirates, early mornings, stuffed animals.." I whispered as my eyes glued on my feet. I will get through this day.

I heard screeching of tires before I realized I was standing in the middle of the road. I looked up before falling on my butt from the bright light in my face.

I braced for the impact of the car, but nothing came. I just held my hand up as my heart beat out of my chest. I closed my eyes as I breathed.

"Oh my god. Oh my god"

I blinked my eyes open before I heard a car door slam. I looked up seeing a boy with blonde hair running up to me.

"Oh my god. Are you okay? I am so sorry--Fuck" He shook his head as he came over me. I took in a breath once I realized I wasn't dying and I stood up wiping the grime off my hands onto my legs from the road.

"Yeah, I'm fine" I breathed. He stood next to me slightly shaking. "Are-Are you sure? I wasn't looking and I--fuck I almost hit you with my car" He said frantically.

"Yeah I noticed" I said shaking my head. "I should have just let you hit me" I mumbled. He furrowed his eyebrows. "What?" He asked shaking his head. I looked up at him, realzing normal people don't say shit like that.

"I'm joking" I stated. Sorta. He let out a breath, placing his hands on his hips. "Oh. Right" He nodded. I sighed and he looked down at my arm that took the blow to my fall.

"Shit, your arms bleeding" He breathed holding his hand out to my arm. I looked down seeing my elbow spilling out blood down my arm. I sighed.

"It's fine I have some bandaids at home" I said shaking my head looking up at him, finally getting a good look at him. His eye were brown and his hair was a shagy blonde. He was taller than me and was wearing a Ralph Lauren polo.

"You're sure you're okay?" He asked looking down at me. I nodded softly. He sighed and looked towards his car. "Can I at least give you a ride so I clear my conscience?" He asked motioning towards his car.

I blinked at him.

"I'm not really into the whole 'getting into cars with strangers thing' " I said looking at him. He chuckled and looked down.

"I'm Jake, nice to meet you. See now not strangers" He smiled at me. I sighed and looked towards his car. My eyes widened.

A Jaguar F-type convertable. Black with white leather.

"If it'll clear your conscience" I mumbled as I gravitated towards the sports car. He chuckled as he nodded and walked towards the car. My eyes scanned it wondering if I was dreaming and it would disappear. I almost wanted to apologize for almost staining the car with my body parts.

My hand ran over the side of it before pulling the handle of the car and sliding in, careful to not get any blood on the white leather. He sighed as he got in and slammed the door closed.

"Sorry it's kind of a mess in here, I was on my way to practice" He said as he pulled the car back into drive. I shook my head. I didn't even notice the clothes. I only noticed the fact that it looked like a spaceship inside it.

I didn't know these cars existed in real life. I thought they just made them to take pictures of and post it for people who wished they could afford it. But I was wrong. It was real and I was sitting in it.

"No, it's...fine" I breathed as I looked around shamelessly. He glanced over at me admiring his car and chuckled. "It's nice right? My parents gave it to me. My dad said the white leather hurt his eyes" He chuckled shaking his head.

I forced my jaw not to drop. He gave up a 100K car because white hurt his eyes?

"Right" I stated looking at him, clearly understanding we came from two different worlds. I had to wonder if I get to get dinner that night, he gets sport cars when his dad’s in a bad mood. He looked forward.

"Where am I going exactly?" He chuckled as he pulled out of the neighborhood I was walking in. I slumped back in my seat. Right. He didn't know where I lived. I sat up looking over his dash.

"Uh you know the neighborhood over by Charlotte? The one at the very end of the street?" I asked looking over at him. He nodded. "You can just drop me there" I said slumping in my seat.

I didn't live on Charlotte, but I lived in the neighborhood behind it. I didn't want Jaguar Boy to see where I lived. His car cost more than my house.

"What's your name?" He asked glancing over to me. "Y/n" I stated. He nodded. "What school do you go to?" He asked. "Heights" I replied. His eyebrows furrowed.

"What? I go to Heights. Why have I never seen you? I'm sure I'd remember a face like yours" He said looking down at me. I furrowed my eyebrows. "What's that suppose to mean?" I asked crossing my arms over my chest.

He chuckled.

"It means your pretty, Y/n" He smiled. My eyes widened and I looked out the window. I don’t think anyone other than my mother has ever called me pretty. I blinked at him a few times before realizing he was serious. I cleared my throat as my cheeks darkened.

"I'm new. Today was only my second day" I explained brushing off the compliment. He nodded.

"Well, i'll make sure to look out for you" He smiled. I nodded and smiled to myself. A friend. I silently praised myself before we pulled out to the neighborhood on Charlotte.

The car rolled to stop. I looked over at him. "You're getting better at the whole stopping thing" I chuckled. He chuckled and nodded. "I am sorry, about your arm and everything" He motioned to my elbow. I shook my head as I opened the door.

"Don't worry about it" I nodded as I closed the door. I turned to walk away when the window rolled down.

"Wait Y/n"

I turned and looked at him.

"Do you like hockey?" He asked through the window. I shurgged. "I don't know. I'm from Florida" I said back. He smiled and shook his head. "Do you think you might like hockey?" He asked. I shrugged.

"Come watch me play sometime" He stated. I smiled. "Yeah, okay" I nodded and he smiled before rolling up his window and driving off. I waited until his car was all the way gone before I crossed behind a house and back behind the neighborhood.

I spent the rest of the night searching him on Facebook. It took forever because I guess people don't use Facebook anymore? I don't know i've been scrolling for like an hour and I only see old people. I don’t get on here much.

I finally found a link to an Instagram account.

Jake Andrews

I clicked on his profile.

"5 thousand followers?" I sat up in my bed as I stared at his page. I scrolled through his page. Pictures of him in a hockey uniform, pictures of him with friends. Maybe he wouldn't be such a bad friend to have.

Shamelessly I scrolled and scrolled. He looked like a normal highschool kid. Something I felt like I was far from. Pictures of parties filled the screen. I rolled over in my bed and shut off my phone.

Maybe I should use this opportunity to my advantage. Maybe I deserved to feel normal. Like I deserved normal. I had never felt like that before. Maybe this was my chance.

Today was a good day.

"What are you drawing?" I asked as I sat down, not bothering to ask him if I could, sit. The quiet boy snapped the sketchbook closed and looked up at me with hard eyes. My eyes widended.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you" I mumbled. He sighed and pushed his journal away and looked off in the distance. I swallowed.

We weren't in our normal arrangements. We were in the library. I came to see if the school's libary was as shit as I imagined it would be. The selection was bare, oppose from a few good classics that I had already read.

I saw quiet boy sitting a table by himself. His eyes focused in on the page in front of him as he traced and erased and shaded the page. I didn't get close enough to see what he was drawing though, before I could he already snapped it closed.

"Did I say something to make you upset?" I whispered. He looked over at me and held eye contact. His eyes were so blue. I just looked at him. He slowly shook his head after a few seconds.

I smiled.

"Okay, good" I breathed. “If I did I’m sorry, I didn’t know” I mumbled. I don’t know why he would be mad, I didn’t even know what I said wrong. I say a lot of things. Most of them wrong. He looked down at the table. I leaned over and looked at the closed sketch book.

“Can I see one of your drawings?" I whispered looking at him. His eyes snapped to mine. I blinked up at him. He shook his head, as if he was annoyed by the question.

I slumped in my seat.

"Is it because you don't think they are good or because you just don't want to show me?" I asked. He looked down before shrugging. I licked my lips.

"Well, I'm sure they are" I breathed, "Good I mean" I clarified. He looked over at me. His eyes stared into mine. I didn't get the vibe that he really wanted to speak to me. Well no shit. I meant that he didn't want to hear me talk to him.

I took in a breath and sat up. "I'll just...leave you to your drawings then" I swallowed wondering to myself why I was so persistent in speaking to the boy that doesn't speak and clearly didn't want to be spoken to.

A part of me feels for the boy. I know what it feels like to be alone. I mean because I am, alone. I don't really have anyone to talk to. No one listens to what I have to say, but he does. I think. Even if he thinks I'm annoying or doesn’t retain any of it. I may be his least favorite part of the day.

I never really knew if he minded my talking, or if he just wasn't used to someone talking to him and just didn't know how to go about it, since he didn't talk back.

I swallowed and grabbed my bag as I stood up feeling the rejection wash over me. I felt him tug the strap of my backpack as I turned. I looked back at him and he stared up at me. His mouth opened as he looked up at me as if to speak. But his mouth shut quickly.

He closed his eyes and sighed, letting go of my bag. He looked up at me and then motioned back at the chair next to him as If to say:

Stay.

"Do you want me to stay?" I asked quietly. He looked back down at the table and shrugged. I just stared down at him before taking that as a yes. I smiled softly and sat back down throwing off my bag.

I sighed slumping back in my seat and looking amonst the book shelves.

"You would think out of all of these books they would have one book with a sense of good literature" I mumbled. The boy looked over at me and a small smile tugged at his lips. I sat up from it and looked at him a smile crossing my face.

He smiled. Well, like half way. It dropped before it was fully formed. He glanced over at me when he saw the smile on my face and I looked away still smiling because it felt like a small victory.

We sat there together in silence for about an hour. I read some of a book that I'd read a thousand times, Pride and Prejudice .

I think I read it over and over because I thought the more I read it, it would become less stupid and less predictable. It hadn't. Maybe I just like torturing myself.

Quiet boy contiuned to sketch out my view and out of respect I never looked over to his drawings. If he didn't want me to, I didn't want to push it. He doesn't seem like the type that likes to be pushed.

I was just at the part where Darcy was about to reject Bennett when the brunette next to me stiffened. I looked up and his eyes were locked on the doors of the library.

I looked over at him as he stared. I looked up and saw a group of guys entering and laughing obnoxiously. Quiet boy's eyes didn't leave them. I felt the tension in the air. I looked over at him. Obvious discomfort washed over him.

"You'd think that they would understand you're suppose to be quiet in a library" I mumbled over to him. He didn't look at me or acknowlegde my words. He barley blinked.

"Are you okay?" I whispered. Still he sat frozen until he finally blinked and grabbed his sketchbook and other books lying on the table and his bag and stood up. My mouth opened but he was already walking fast to the exit.

I stood up grabbing my book.

"Why do you--" I said before lowering my voice to a whisper. "…always run away from me" I finished before looking down at my things. I sighed and packed up my things slowly in defeat.

"Y/n?"

My eyes snapped up before meeting Jake's. A smile came to my face. "Jake, hey" I said as I grabbed my bag and threw it over my shoulder. He smiled.

I wondered if I should tell him I spent 2 hours last night stalking his social media page. Maybe I should just keep that to myself.

"Hey" He breathed.

"What are you doing in the library?" I chuckled looking at him. He didn't give the library vibe. He sighed and looked down. "Trying to cram for my biology test" He said shaking his head. I smiled and nodded.

"What are you doing here?" He asked. I looked down at the book in my hands. "Reading" I said blankly. He looked down at my book and nodded.

“Are you good—“ He asked shaking his head lifting up his biology book. “At biology by chance?” He chuckled. I looked down at his book. Not at all.

“I dabble into living things” I chuckled. His eyebrows furrowed. I looked at the book. “Biology? Living things—“ I tried to explain but just shook my head.

“I’m okay” I breathed. Lie. I’m more reading and writing oriented. He smiled. “Do you think you could help me? You know, study sometime?” He asked lightly. I opened my mouth.

Friends Y/n. You need friends.

“Yeah totally” I smiled brightly at him. He smiled and nodded. “Cool” He nodded.

I looked towards the door realizing I should probably try and find quiet boy to make sure he's okay. I swallowed and looked back at Jake.

"Hey sorry, I have to go. When is your next hockey game?" I breathed feeling guilty for running off. His eyes brightened at the question. He shifted on his feet.

"Next Tuesday. Are you coming?" He smiled. I smiled and stepped back on my feet. "Maybe" I breathed. He smiled and nodded. "I hope to see you there then, Y/n. Maybe we can study after" He nodded.

“Yeah, maybe. See ya” I smiled and nodded back and turned on my feet towards the door, feeling a knot in my stomach.

Woah that was weird.

I looked down almost seeing my stomach convulse from the conversation. I shook it off as I pushed the exit doors open into the hallways of the school.

"Got nothing to say huh?" I heard a male's voice ring.

My eyes shot down the hall. It was the boys from eailer that quiet boy was looking at. They stood around him like walls blocking him from the outside. His eyes snapped towards his feet as he hugged his sketchbook to his chest.

"Do you even try to speak or do you just love attention?" One tilted his head down towards him. The brunette turned away from him, obvious discomfort clouding his face. My heart clenched and I started walking towards him.

"What's this freak? You write weird shit in here?" One grabbed his sketchbook out of his grip. I walked faster as I felt my blood begin to boil.

"Hey"

All four of them looked up at me. I glared up at the boy holding the book. "What are you doing? Leave him alone" I snapped once I was close enough to him. The boy chuckled and looked down at quiet boy.

"Aw this your little girlfriend? Come to rescue you?" He taunted the brutnette. Quiet boy took an audible breath and turned awy closing his eyes. I gripped the strap of my bag out of anger.

"He asked you a question" The other boy next to him grabbed the brunette’s shoulder. He winced. My eyes widened. I pushed the guy off of him. "Hey, I said leave him alone asshole" I snapped as the guy stumbled away from quiet boy.

With a gap in the wall, Quiet book took off down the hall. I just watched him as he pushed the doors of the school open and walked fast away from us.

I glared up at the guy and ripped the sketchbook out of his hand. He glared down at me. "So you think it's cool to pick on someone that's different than you?" I snapped angrliy.

"Hey if he needs some bitch to stick up for him, maybe he deserves to get toughened up" He glared down at me.

"Maybe if you had two braincells to rub together you'd have something better to do with your time asshole" I snapped as I stalked away from him and out towards the exit doors and off after the quiet boy.

If you know anything about me, you know to trust the slow burn.

autumn

#chris sturniolo #matt sturniolo #sturniolo smut #nicolas sturniolo #nick sturniolo #sturniolo x reader #christopher sturniolo #sturniolo triplets #sturniolo fanfic

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personasintro · 7 months

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Mutual Help | #16

𝐛𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐝𝐢𝐭: @kithtaehyung

↳ 𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬; in order for you to pretend to be his girlfriend, he helps you with your sexual desires ⏤ he calls it mutual help

⇢ 𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: jungkook x reader

⇢ 𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fake dating au, fluff, angst, smut, slow burn

⇢ 𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: explicit language

⇢ 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 2.2k+

⇠ 𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐯. | 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐱 | 𝐧𝐞𝐱𝐭 ⇢

When the very anticipated notification comes in the form of a message saying 'I'm here', you wish you could be enthusiastic about it like yesterday when you went to sleep. Unfortunately, that was before you realized waking up at five in the morning is extremely tough. Especially for the person like you, and someone who went to sleep late even when your best friend was kind enough to remind you to go to sleep early.

Well, you were always known for going to sleep late and Jungkook seemed not to forget about that.

Stumbling out of your apartment building, you see him walking out of his car with a huge grin, probably finding your current appearance more than amusing.

"Good morning, baby. Ready for some adventure?" he jokes, wiggling his brows as he goes to hug you and places a single kiss on your temple.

"Morning." you grumble under your breath, poking him in the rib when he keeps teasing you with his doe eyes.

"God, I forgot what an early bird you are," he laughs, scrunching his nose in the process of his nonstop teasing. "Here let me take your bags." he says, reaching for the two travel bags you packed yesterday.

"Thanks." you murmur, following him to his new car.

Black Mercedes that he finally bought after speaking and dreaming about it for at least two years. You'll never forget the happy grin he had when he came to pick you up in his new car, showing you all the functions it has even though you barely understood half of what he was saying.

"Fuck, how much stuff did you pack?" he complains, opening the truck where he places your two bags next to his one.

"Just necessary stuff." you inform him, causing him to scoff in response. You notice the dark green camera bag in the truck and it sparks your interest. "Did you bring your camera?"

"Of course," he says, closing it shut as he walks to the driver side while you do the same, walking on the other side to the passenger side. "I gotta catch those memories." he says over the roof, making sure you see his sparkling eyes.

For the first time in the morning, you smile back before you make yourself comfortable in the seat, setting it into a more lying position.

"Who are we picking up?" you ask, silently admiring how silent the engine is when he turns it on and drives out of a parking lot.

The navigation already starts to give him directions, while he heads towards the main road. He looks cozy, especially in one of his black oversized hoodies and black cargo pants. You're not surprised by the choice of his outfit, especially the color. It's six in the morning and even though it's the middle of July, it's still chilly in the mornings. You're wearing one of your purple hoodies as well, matching it with some old leggings that won't be missed if you rip them.

"Jimin was supposed to take his car but it's too small to fit the rest of the gang. So they're going with Hoseok's friend's car and we're picking up some girls, plus Taehyung."

You shouldn't be surprised by the information that there are more girls coming on this camping trip. Jungkook told you that Hoseok's friends are going as well, but still, you're quite surprised by it. So far, there is no mention of Kiko and her possible attendance.

"Would you mind if I close my eyes for a few minutes?" you ask him, fumbling with your eyes as he picks up the speed.

The sky is painted light blue while there's sunrise around the corner. It creates a calm and nice view, especially when you're still tired.

"Not at all," he tells you, turning off the radio that's softly playing in the background. "You should rest till you can. Once Taehyung is here, there won't be any time to rest." he chuckles, leaving you giggling knowing he's more than right about that.

"Oh my god, I love this song!" Taehyung shouts excitedly, singing his heart out along with Harry Styles' voice booming out of Jungkook's car speakers.

Laughing, you shake your head at your friend who sounds really good but is still too loud, especially when you barely got any sleep. The ride to get Taehyung wasn't that long, it took about fifteen minutes to pick him up and he hasn't shut up since then.

Five minutes later, you picked up Hoseok's friends in front of some apartment building. When Jungkook got out of the car, he helped to load their bags into the truck as he introduced himself to them. You could barely hear their conversation but when they got into the car, sitting next to Taehyung, they introduced themselves.

Minjae and Seulgi. They both look like they're your age, while Minjae's hair is black and short and Seulgi has a high strawberry blond ponytail that frames her face.

And here you are.

They seem like nice girls, very communicative and they both warmed up to all of you quickly, despite the fact that they barely know you. It confirms your thoughts when Minjae speaks up, reacting to Taehyung singing his heart out at Harry Styles' song.

"Let me tell you, Harry Styles is so fuckable!" She comments with so much enthusiasm that it makes you and Jungkook laugh, her friend reacting by exclaiming her name in disbelief. But Minjae just shrugs her shoulders innocently and looks at her friend. "Don't tell me you wouldn't fuck him, if you could."

"I'm not saying that, but--"

"See?" she interrupts her friend, causing Seulgi to let out a groan which makes you laugh even more.

What you don't expect is Minjae, who's sitting behind you, leaning forward as she plops her head between your and Jungkook's seat. "What about you, Y/N? Wouldn't you fuck him?" she asks, wiggling her brows as you shake your head at her, a huge grin settled on your lips.

Glancing at Jungkook, he stares at the road but gives you a quick glance of curiosity before he turns his eyes back to the road. With even Taehyung finally shutting up, everyone stays quiet while they wait for your answer and it makes you mentally groan at their damn curiosity. But well, at least you can be honest when they ask.

"Fuck yeah." you answer, causing Minjae to squeal in triumph.

"Yah! Since when?" Jungkook speaks up, glancing at you for a brief moment and giving you a good glimpse of his furrowed brows.

"I don't know, he's pretty hot. Have you seen him?" you shrug innocently, smirking when Jungkook glares at you. Reaching for a water bottle beside your legs, the one Jungkook bought you, you take a gulp.

"He's not that hot." he grumbles, toning out the voices of Minjae in the back while she asks Taehyung something.

All you can hear is Taehyung's response. "They're dating."

You and Jungkook don't react, both pretending to be busy with driving and staring out of the window and admiring the trees. But you still hear Seulgi whisper a little 'wasn't he dating Kiko?' and a little gasp she lets out when Minjae nudges her shoulder and silently tells her to shut up.

Great, so they know her too.

When Jungkook told you the location of your camping trip is near a lake, you don't expect such a breathtaking view. You knew there'd be a lot of green around you, but you don't expect such an open space as you drive into the resort. The area is secured with a fence, which makes everything much safer and you don't have to worry about possible bears giving you a goodnight, which Jungkook reacted with a laugh telling you there are no bears when you shared your worries. The gateman that opens the gate for you is an older man, giving you a cheerful greeting and briefly explaining to you there's a nearby building where's the bathroom and little shop in case you might be needing or missing something. It's definitely different than you expected it to be, it's even better.

Everyone in the car shares your enthusiasm while Jungkook follows Jimin's directions he has sent him through voice message and drives through the road. Even when he parks beside white Hyundai, your mouth is agape and eyes focused on the beauty around you. There's a lake just a few meters away from you, with a spacious meadow with nearby trees and bright sky above your heads. You can notice a few people already unpacking a lot of stuff, including Jimin who's holding two unrecognizable packages of something with a frown on his face. His eyes briefly turn towards Jungkook's car and the frown disappears as he waves with the packages still in his hands. You wave back, laughing at his cuteness while you undo the seatbelt and wait for Jungkook to turn the engine off. As soon as he does that, you're getting out of the car just to be met with Jimin's crushing hug he gives you.

"You guys made it!" he exclaims happily, hugging you tighter before he pulls you away.

Smiling at him, you're reminded of how he likes spending his free time with friends. "Of course, we did." you grin, hearing the rest of them getting out of the car.

Jimin hugs Jungkook and Taehyung while he excitedly asks them about your ride and how amazing this place is. Well, you definitely agree with that. You notice Taehyung introducing Minjae and Seulgi to him, causing him to give them a polite wave which is a lot less affectionate than the hug he gave you. But you're all close, so it makes sense.

"Hey everyone!" Someone calls and you turn around, seeing Hoseok waving at all of you.

A round of greetings resounds from the group and you as well, hoping there won't be any negative memories with Hoseok. You know he apologized and he seems to be happy to see all of you, and you hope it could stay this way. When he smiles at you and urges everyone to follow him, he explains everything they've done so far.

"We've got four tents in total. We started to build it but the only one who seems to know how to do it, is Jimin so far," he chuckles, "But we need someone strong to bring wood for the fireplace from that building," he explains, pointing far away at the building. "Jungkook?" he asks, causing the younger male to nod as he gives him thumbs up.

"Great, Namjoon's going with you." he tells you, and your brows frown for a moment before you realize you don't remember anyone named Namjoon. It must be Hoseok's friend Jungkook mentioned.

Just as your curiosity starts working, a blond male appears while dusting his black sweatpants before he looks up and sees all of you. "Oh, hi." he smiles, waving at everyone while a cute dimple pokes out of his cheek and you almost squeal.

He's cute. He's wearing a black cap with some white shirt that's already dirty from the soil.

"Hey, Joon!" Minjae greets him, while Seulgi joins her and waves at their friend while they go to greet Hoseok and Namjoon with a hug.

"Joon, you already know Jungkook," Hoseok says, causing him to nod while he grins at your best friend. "This is Taehyung and Y/N." he introduces you and Namjoon waves at the both of you again, smiling at you while you do the same.

"It's nice to meet you." you smile at him.

"Likewise," he grins, "How was the ride?" he asks, eyeing everyone.

"Cool, we enjoyed the view so much!" Minjae answers.

Just as Jimin calls Taehyung to help him build a tent, while Hoseok starts to give instructions to Jungkook and how he can help, you don't notice another person coming along this trip. How could you, not until the person suddenly comes in the view holding a few packages of what seems like a marshmallow.

"Hey everyone!" she calls, but even you can tell she's trying to sound too cheerful at the sight of everyone being finally here.

Automatically, your eyes go to Jungkook who spots her and recognizes her voice immediately, his own widening at the sight of his ex-girlfriend.

"I brought these ones instead of the blue ones." she explains, her eyes shifting to Hoseok who nods.

"That's fine! These ones are better anyway," he waves, causing her to nod as she places the packages at the top of some plastic box.

Hoseok goes back to talking to Jungkook who nods understandably, but you know he's just trying not stare at Kiko who occupies herself with helping Minjae and Seulgi, trying to build a tent by themselves.

"Y/N, right?" You hear a few meters away from you, Namjoon glancing at you with the same friendly smile. You nod, smiling back at him politely. "Can you help me with this one?" he asks, trying to figure out which part of the tent is right.

"I don't think I'll be much help, but I can try." you joke, already walking towards him.

"That makes two of us." he jokes back, causing you to giggle.

Maybe this camping trip won't be as tense as you expected it to be. It's definitely awkward seeing Kiko here as well, but everyone seems to be cool and chill about the fact two exes are about to spend their weekend together.

But are you and Jungkook going to be?

#networkbangtan #ksmutclub #ficswithluv #btswritingcafe #bts smut #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts au #jungkook fic #personasintro

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roosterforme · 1 year

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A Love You Don't Find Everyday Part 10 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: Bradley takes you home and finds his early wedding present. You think that wedding talk might be even hotter than dirty talk. And Rooster decides to give you an early present, too.

Warnings: Smut, fluff, and swearing

Length: 3300 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

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You let Bradley load all of your things into the Bronco, but he was a stuttering, clumsy mess. You had to laugh at the way he was reacting to your wedding plans. Each new bit of information that you gave him had him reaching for you, begging to hear more.

"You know, Roo, you're allowed to veto any of these ideas if you don't like them," you reminded him as he buckled you into the passenger seat.

"I love all of your ideas so far," he promised, tipping your chin up with his fingers to kiss you. "Especially the part where we get married next month. That's my favorite bit."

You let him coax your mouth open with his lips, and your head tipped back against the headrest as he teased your tongue with his. Every kiss like this felt like the first one you shared with Bradley at the beach; front seat of the Bronco, seatbelt fastened, filled with need for him.

"Gotta get you home," he whispered against your neck, his fingers easing up the front of the sweatshirt you were wearing. "Make love to you."

You shivered in his arms. "Drive me home."

With one last kiss, he closed your door, and you had a few seconds to catch your breath.

"Next month?" he asked as he started the engine. "Really? We're really getting married the day after Thanksgiving?"

"Yes."

"I need you to pinch me, because I am definitely dreaming. I must have fallen asleep on the bench inside the airport. Your flight didn't even land yet."

You pinched his forearm, making him yelp as he reversed out of the spot. "You're not dreaming. I really have my dress. We really have a wedding date. And I'm going to call Maverick tomorrow and see if he will officiate. As long as that's okay with you."

Bradley shook his head slightly as he pulled out onto the main road. "I.... I think I like that idea. A lot, actually. He was my dad's best man, so I think... yeah, please, let's ask him to officiate our wedding."

After he merged into traffic, he threaded his fingers with yours while you told him the rest of your plans, even down to the very last details. He was pulling into the driveway just as you finished telling him that you wanted to keep it a secret from everyone else, other than Maverick.

"So we don't tell anyone else? Until when?" he asked, shifting into park.

You climbed over the middle console and onto his lap where he welcomed you with open arms. "We don't ever tell them. We just invite everyone to hang out that day, Roo," you said, kissing him all over his face as he wrapped his hands around your waist. "They don't know it's our wedding until it's happening!"

He looked at you in awe as he stroked his hands underneath the sweatshirt. "I love all of this, Baby Girl. You're like some sort of evil genius. I just want to be married to you."

"So you're okay with everything?" you asked softly as his fingers inched higher and higher.

"It's perfect."

"Just forty nine days away," you whispered as his fingers caressed the bottoms of your breasts and he devoured your mouth with his.

Somehow wedding talk was even better than dirty talk. Once he realized you weren't wearing a bra, his fingers were stroking and pinching your nipples, and you started slowly grinding against him.

"Wedding talk makes you hot, huh?" you asked as he reached up to your neck and wrapped his hand around the front.

"You know, I never thought I would settle down like this before I met you. But this just makes so much sense to me," he told you, tracing the column of your neck with one hand while he teased your breasts with the other. "Now let me get you inside so I can get this sweatshirt off."

You opened the door and climbed down onto the driveway, Bradley close behind you. "Where's my car?" you asked as he scooped you up and carried you to the porch.

"Um," he muttered, shoving the key into the front door. "We'll talk about it later, Sweetheart."

You were already kissing him again as you both stumbled toward the bedroom. When you stopped in the hallway to briefly sit and pet Tramp, Bradley went ahead of you, pulling his shirt off as he walked. And when you walked into your bedroom, he was starting a playlist on his phone, wearing only his jeans low on his hips, the fabric of his boxer briefs peeking out an inch or so.

He was so sexy, with his hair mussed from your fingers and the scars running the length of his left arm. And he was smiling at you, so sure of your desire for him at this moment. You never wanted to see another look on his face.

"Let's see if you can find your treat," you said, an extra sway to your hips as you walked slowly toward him.

"Is it in your pocket?" he asked softly, dipping his fingers into the front pockets of your leggings.

"No," you whispered, placing a chaste kiss to his lips.

"Are you hiding it up here?" he asked in a low, deep register as he ran his hands up your bare torso and removed your top.

"No," you whispered again when his head dipped down to taste your breasts. His mouth was warm and wet, and you were so turned on by the feel of his mustache that you were instantly moaning.

"Don't worry, I'll find it," he promised before licking a long stripe along the valley between your breasts.

"Roo," you gasped, and he had you in his arms, flat on your back in the middle of the bed before you knew what was going on.

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

Bradley watched the way your tits bounced as he let you settle onto your back, the afternoon sunlight shining through the bedroom windows illuminating your skin.

"So pretty," he told you as he unbuttoned his jeans and let them slide to the floor. You were smiling at him and running your fingers along your skin. He was so accustomed to your body, and knew it by heart. "I missed you."

"Roo," you gasped and then he was on top of you, pressing you down into the bed with his body weight. He groaned when you took his left hand and guided it down the front of your leggings. He let his fingers glide over your lace underwear, and he could feel how wet you were.

"Light blue lace with the little bow on the front?" he rasped next to your ear, feeling his way along your underwear. He knew all of them by heart, and could tell what you were wearing by the feel alone. "Am I right?"

"Yes!" you gasped, turning your face to kiss his lips. Bradley guided your leggings down below your hips, and released your lips to see a glint of something new in your eyes. But you just gently pushed his head lower on your body, and he chuckled as he kissed his way from your neck down to your belly button.

Your skin was so soft, and you smelled so good. He was throbbing for you by the time his lips found the top of the light blue lace. As your fingers softly stroked his hair, Bradley's movements came to a stop. When he started to remove your underwear, he saw a thin, curved black line on your skin.

"What's this?" he asked softly, pulling back to get a better look.

"Your treat," you whispered. "Do you like it?"

He yanked your underwear down to reveal a small tattoo of a rooster near your pelvic bone on your left side. Bradley couldn't move, couldn't think. He was trying to make sense of his thoughts. Did he like it? You wanted to know if he liked it. You got a tattoo. Of a rooster.

His lips parted as he stroked his thumb across the ink. It looked like it belonged there. Like he should have known it was missing before. He dragged his thumb softly along as his breathing picked up pace. He met your nervous gaze with his as you chewed on your bottom lip and propped yourself up on one elbow.

"Do you like it?" you asked again, softer this time as you pushed his hair away from his forehead.

Bradley was panting. He could hear himself moaning as his lips settled against the tattoo, kissing you softly there. "Fuck, Baby Girl," he growled against your skin. "Holy shit."

"Bradley," you gasped as he left open mouth kisses all over your hip and belly and pelvis, making sure he kissed every inch of you there.

"I love it," he groaned, the tip of his tongue tracing and tasting. Your hips came off the bed as he pushed two fingers over your clit and rammed them hard into your pussy. He bumped your tattoo with his nose as you writhed around, and he used his right hand to pin your thigh in place.

"I fucking love it," he told you, louder this time. He kissed you again, sealing his lips around the tattoo and softly sucking as he pumped his fingers into you.

He was going to marry you the day after Thanksgiving. You got a tattoo of his call sign. You were going to be his wife. You had a permanent rooster on your skin.

It was too much. It was all too much for him to handle. But this was usually how you made him feel. You were moaning his name and shaking your head, your hands now running all along your face and neck as he finger fucked you. His hand was soaked with your wetness as he brought it up to trace the ink line. He dragged his mustache through it, painting your skin as you moaned his name repeatedly.

He licked your tattoo clean before pressing his lips to your clit and sucking until you screamed. He buried his face in you, licking and swirling his tongue, and doing his best to keep you still while you soaked him.

When you bucked up against his face, he yanked your leggings and underwear down your legs and threw them across the room. He grabbed the backs of both of your thighs and spread you wide before buying his face in you again. He ate you until he felt like he was going to cum from the friction of his dick against the bed.

He wrenched down the front of his boxer briefs with his right hand and guided himself inside you. You gasped as he filled you, and his hand returned to your tattoo, stroking you in time with the movement of his hips.

"I'm glad you like it, Roo," you whispered. The soft neediness of your voice was enough to have his balls tightening. His thrusting grew shallow as his fingertips skimmed along your tattoo.

"Fuck," he grunted, cumming inside you after a few more strokes. His head tipped back in frustration and longing; he never let himself cum before you did, as long as he was able to help it.

It was that fucking tattoo's fault. But he really loved it.

"I'll take care of you," he promised, easing his lips back to your hip to taste his treat again.

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

Bradley was a mess between your thighs. You felt powerful as he was only able to communicate through broken grunts and partial sentences. He got you so close with his mouth, but every time he started touching your tattoo again, he seemed to short circuit.

Now he was fucking you, his hand never leaving your hip as he came inside you after just a few thrusts.

"I'll take care of you."

You were about to tell him it was okay, that he didn't need to do anything else for you right now, because that tattoo was just for him. But his mouth was already back on your clit, and his fingers were pumping into you, making sloppy noises through his release.

"I wanna make you feel good," he grunted, still caressing your hip as you felt his tongue slide through the soaking wet mess that was your pussy.

Your legs were starting to shake, but he was taking his time, fingers and mouth and nose and mustache all working in tandem. He was spreading his cum around with his tongue, and you could feel the air cooling the moisture against your skin.

"Oh my god," you gasped as he pumped two fingers hard inside you. You watched the bulge of his bicep and the veins in his neck as he moved his wet lips back to your clit and sucked softly until your vision became fuzzy. You came hard, squeezing his beefy fingers and trying to kick your feet.

You could tell you were making desperate little sounds as you calmed down, but you couldn't stop yourself.

"Baby Girl." His lips were on your neck now, and his thigh was wedged against your pussy. When he touched your lips with his sticky fingers, you parted them for him, tasting both of you there.

You couldn't get enough as the salty and sweet taste hit the back of your tongue and you swallowed. With both hands, you held onto his wrist to keep his hand in place as you licked his fingers clean with a soft moan.

As you ran your tongue along his palm, Bradley said, "You got a tattoo. Just for me?"

You nodded and looked up at him. "That's why it's in a private place. For your eyes only."

His lips parted and he smiled, his perfect teeth mesmerizing to you. "It's next to your pussy, Sweetheart. I'm obsessed."

You giggled. "Well, good, because that's your early wedding gift."

"Forty nine days," he muttered before kissing you and swiping his tongue through your mouth.

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

His hands were all over your tattoo for the rest of the day. Even after you put your leggings back on to cook dinner, he was standing behind you, stroking you through the fabric. You looked so smug, and Bradley could tell you were enjoying this, but so was he.

"Okay, here's the deal, Sweetheart. I figured it out."

"What deal, Roo?" you asked, stirring pasta sauce on the stove.

"Even when you're undressed, just fully naked, you still have all these things on you that make me feel like you're mine. First it was your necklace charms. And then after that, your engagement ring as well. Now you've got a rooster tattoo. I feel like you're really outdoing me in this department, and I don't know how I feel about that."

"Pretty soon you'll have a ring too, so you can pay me back with that," you said with a laugh. "Oh, we need to buy wedding bands! Grab some paper, we need to make a list of everything we still need to do in the next forty nine days!"

So Bradley sat at the island in his underwear and scribbled down everything the two of you came up with.

"Flowers?" he asked. "How about yellow since they are your favorite?"

"With some red mixed in," you told him, and he grinned.

"Who are we 'inviting' anyway?" he asked, starting a new column for the guest list.

You rattled off a short list, and then asked if he wanted to add anyone else, but he was satisfied with what you wanted.

He scratched his chin. "I like it. It's just that, Nat will be very upset if she's not my best woman."

"She will be! We'll get a bouquet for her and one for Maria, and they can be our bridal party."

He set down the pencil. "I'm going to just defer to you, because you've thought about literally everything, and I am in awe of you."

You led him over to the dining room table with one enormous plate of spaghetti and meatballs and settled onto his lap. Bradley kissed your nose before he twirled some pasta onto his fork.

"Please tell me, I need to know... how long were you thinking about that tattoo? And is that why you met up with Caleb?"

He fed you a bite of dinner and then waited for you to answer while he took a bite.

"A long time, Roo." You laughed and asked, "Remember when you were living in the barracks and I told you I might as well have Rooster sharpied across my face?"

His eyes bugged out. "We weren't even dating yet!"

You kind of shrugged and cut into a meatball. "That's the first time the idea of it flashed into my mind. But since we've been engaged, I'd thought about it more. And I wanted Caleb to do it, because I was really scared, and it did hurt a lot."

Bradley tipped your face toward his and kissed you. "I'm going to have to call Caleb and thank him. I'm glad you went there for it."

"Hey, where's my car? You said we'd talk about it later," you said between bites of a meatball.

"Um, it's in the shop," he said carefully, and you turned to glare at him.

"What did you do? It was fine last weekend when I left."

He handed you his fork and held up both hands in surrender. "I swear I didn't do anything. The battery died, and I had to jump it three times to get it to the shop. I think it needs a new alternator and a new starter. My mechanic is looking at it. But I need to warn you, it might be a better investment to just get a new car, Sweetheart."

You scoffed. "I don't want a new car. I like the one I have."

He pressed his lips together and exhaled through his nose. "Let's just wait and see what the exact diagnosis is."

"You're paying for it," you told him with a dirty look.

"A new car?" he asked, a smile creeping onto his face. "Gladly."

"No. The repairs. I want my car back."

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

Bradley hated lying to you. He never wanted to do it. It made him feel sick. He glanced at the garment bag hanging on the bedroom door, and he felt even worse.

But the next morning when he held you against him, he said, "The guys asked me to golf today. Do you mind if I go out for a bit?" He swallowed hard. He would need to text Jake so he had an alibi if he was going to be gone more than a few hours.

"I don't mind," you promised, yawning against his neck and rolling onto your back. "I'm really tired."

Bradley followed you, his right hand settling against your tattoo as it always seemed to be doing now. You smiled up at him and kissed his cheek.

"I'll try to be back for lunch," he promised, running his lips along the collar of his UVA shirt where it sat against your neck. "I love you."

Bradley watched you snuggle back into the bedding and doze off as he pulled on some jeans and grabbed a Hawaiian shirt from his side of the closet.

You had blown his mind to bits yesterday with that little one inch by one inch rooster tattoo. Now he was going to attempt to do the same to you.

Since he didn't have a Caleb here, he was going to have to gamble a bit. He had texted Fanboy last night and asked where he got his intricate Darth Vader tattoo done, and now he was hoping he'd be able to get a walk-in appointment when the shop opened.

Bradley grabbed a few protein bars and headed out, already with a clear idea in his mind of what he wanted.

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

Oh no he didn't..... (hope you liked the wedding details so far.... Any guesses on location and whatnot?)

PART 11

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muddyorbsblr · 6 months

Text

circumstances of succumbency [kinktober 2023: bath/shower]

See the full Kinktober 2023 Collection here! See my full list of works here!

Summary: You and Magnus get stranded on the road while working a case and sought shelter at an inn that only had one room left. And one bed.

Pairing: older!Magnus Martinsson x Reader

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: 18+ | smut (minors & pearl clutchers, kindly exit stage left I'll only ask nicely once); unprotected p in v sex; slight mention to masturbation/wankst; language; Magnus is her superior/boss so there's a bit of a power dynamic going on [let me know if i missed anything!]

Things to be aware of: coworkers to lovers; mutual pining; one bed only trope; translations in the Author's Notes

Dick-tionary (aka smut guide): When Magnus says "I won't have you apologizing", the smut starts. Proceed with caution.

"We're not going to be of any use to this case sleep-deprived and dragging this car through a snowstorm, Y/L/N. We should find some shelter and start fresh in the morning, and hopefully the weather will be a bit more agreeable."

Those were the famous last words that hammered in several nails to your coffin. You were still about an hour's drive away from the residence of a person of interest in your current case, but with the current state of the weather, you were more likely to get stranded in the middle of the road with a broken down engine than actually make it to your destination if you two stubbornly kept on your drive.

That was how you two ended up at a cozy little inn, the lady at the front desk shamelessly checking out Detective Superintendent Martinsson while she tried to book two rooms for you. A disappointed scowl painted her face as she told you both that there was only one room left for the night. With one bed.

Of course this happens, you grumbled internally. One room, one bed, one horny Y/N.

He tried to be a gentleman and offered you the bed, clearly uncomfortable with the whole arrangement as well. But after you both realized that there was no other furniture that the towering older man could somehow pretzel-fold himself into and sleep in for the night, you simply agreed that you'd pick a side of the bed and put the entire situation out of your minds come morning.

You distinctly remembered putting a considerable effort to count sheep and make your mind shut off despite the biting cold, slipping into slumber a shivering curled up heap on your side of the bed, one wrong move away from falling off and flopping onto the hard wood floor. So why was it that when you opened your eyes, the morning sun barely shining through the heavy clouds, you were deceptively comfortable and warm, with an arm wrapped around you and holding you against the lean and muscular body of the man that had been invading your most vivid scandalous dreams on a nightly basis?

This isn't happening this isn't happening, you tried to tell yourself, trying not to lean in to his warm embrace despite every cell in your body literally screaming to do exactly that. You're still dreaming, Y/N, it's time to wake up. He shuffled even closer to you, his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck, and let out a sigh that sounded like he was almost…contented. The feel had you putting your fist to your mouth and biting down on your skin to refrain from making a sound.

Much as this was exactly where you fantasized about being when you were in the safety of your own home, you knew you had to squirm out of his sleep-laden embrace. You slipped your hand into his and tried to guide his arm up and away from your waist, only to have him reflexively pull out of your hold and go right back to holding you, shuffling even closer and letting out a whining sound as if he was bargaining to stay asleep for a few more minutes.

Before you could try again, you froze in his embrace when you felt his lips press a kiss to the back of your neck, followed by a near-reverent whisper of your name. You bit harder into your skin in a desperate attempt to hold back a moan as he kept on kissing a trail to your shoulder in lazy movements, obviously being guided by his sleep-adled brain.

Which had a little voice in your head screaming the question: If he was moving and talking the way he did because of his dream, then why did he say your name?

You didn't give yourself the time to mull it over, not willing to risk staying a second longer and having him wake up and have the sight of his disgust and shame seared into your memory. As fast as you could manage, you lifted his arm off you and rolled away from him, situating yourself again on the very edge of the bed and pretending that sleep still had its hooks in you.

Despite having slept in a bed that wasn't his own partnered with the undue stress of being stranded by means of a rather nasty snowstorm, Magnus had slept rather peacefully through the night. He was blessed with a rather blissful dream where by some miracle you didn't turn him away after he'd confessed his feelings for you. You even returned them.

And before you two headed off for work, he held you in bed and got to rouse you from your sleep with teasing kisses to your neck. The dream had felt so real that the image might stay with him to keep him company in the cold nights to come after closing this case with you.

When he woke in your shared room at the inn and saw you curled up at the edge of the bed, he wanted nothing more than to turn that dream into reality and pull you into his embrace. He was only stopped by the dreadful thought of how you could possibly react to such intimacy.

Probably with a right hook, a resignation letter, and a sexual harassment lawsuit in that order, you idiotic knob, he hissed at himself, sighing as he shrugged the covers off him and decided to check if the roads were clear enough to resume driving in a few hours.

He walked around the bed and couldn't resist the urge to take his covers and drape them over your own after seeing how you visibly shivered in your sleep. You let out an unintelligible sound while he was tucking the covers around you. "I'm up, I'm up," you mumbled, shifting around groggily.

"We don't have to leave yet," he spoke softly, doing his best not to wake you fully. "Just gonna check if it's safe to go back on the road." He moved your hair away from your face, a warmth spreading through his body upon seeing how serene you seemed in sleep. "You can rest a little while longer, sweet girl."

You let out a long exhale, a tiny contented smile playing at the corner of your mouth when you relaxed and leaned into his touch. He couldn't resist the urge to hold you just so for a few moments longer, nor the urge to press the lightest kiss between your brows before he stood and walked out of the room.

Mercifully the roads seemed much clearer and you two could probably resume your drive and your investigation in a few hours. Before that, though, he needed to go for a run. And hopefully keep all those intrusive thoughts of returning to your room and giving into his desires at bay. Sleeping in the same bed with you had blurred the lines of your relationship so dangerously that it took everything in him to remind himself that you deserved so much better than to have him shatter your trust in him by taking advantage of you and this situation.

"She deserves better than this. Better than you," he grumbled as he walked to his car to take out his running shoes.

With every pound of his feet on the pavement he tried to put it out of his mind the image of just how beautiful and peaceful you looked in bed. Tried to beat into submission the urge to crawl back under the covers next to you and roll the dice. The fantasy that perhaps if he pressed his body to yours your response would be to settle into his embrace. To press back.

Before he knew it three laps around the property turned into five. Then seven. Then ten. At the end of the tenth lap, Magnus somehow convinced himself that the distance he'd covered had placed a physical distance between him and the taunting image of you sleeping on the bed you two had shared last night.

He figured as well that enough time had passed and perhaps you'd woken up of your own accord, and you'd be alert and ready to get back on the road with him and get closer to cracking open the investigation.

There were two things that Magnus noticed once he'd returned to your shared room. First, you were out of bed, which only gave him the most temporary relief from the fantasies that were taunting him ever since he made the most foolish mistake of agreeing with you that you were both grown adults that could handle sharing a bed for the night while you were stranded.

The relief didn't last long because second, he heard the shower running. And now he struggled to even breathe knowing that mere feet away behind that closed bathroom door, you were naked and wet. And he wanted nothing more than to peel off the sweat-soaked layers of clothing on him and bring his daydreams to life.

"Stay where you are, Martinsson. If you give in, you'll lose her forever. Not to mention your badge," he grumbled to himself, burying his face his hands trying to put the mental image of what you might have looked like on the other side of the door well out of his mind.

That was until he heard a sound that seared itself into the darkest recesses of his most vivid fantasies. Whimpers that echoed off the tiles escaping through the bathroom door, followed by what sounded like a filthy variation of the talks he'd once heard you give yourself in the locker room before some of your more intimidating interrogations.

"Fuck's sake, Y/N, either think of someone other than Magnus Martinsson and get it over with so you can actually face him when you get back to the fucking car, or give up and turn the bloody shower on cold."

The air left Magnus' lungs once he heard the frustration that laced your tone. The words unraveling his restraint once it reached his ears. If knowing that you were on the other side of the door touching yourself already had his sanity and restraint hanging by a final thread, the realization that he was the subject of your fantasies snipped at that thread with the sharpest, most ostentatious shears known to man.

He never rushed to take his clothes off so fast in his life.

As soon as you heard Magnus step out of the room you rushed to the shower, trying your damnedest to get the vivid horny daydreams out of your system before he returned. You got close the first time, but then your mind wandered to how his lips felt on your skin when he kissed your neck. And then how those same soft lips kissed your forehead before he left the room.

And with every attempt it was like that elusive climax slinked away farther and farther, taunting you that the only way you could actually get to it was if you surrendered to the fact that the only way was letting the fantasy that starred the devastatingly attractive older man play out in your mind.

Screw it, it's no use, you told yourself, closing your fingers around the lever to turn the shower into its coldest setting.

Before you could change the temperature, a large hand closed around yours, fingers deftly prying yours away from the lever. Your body froze at the feel of another, equally naked body pressing against your back.

You couldn't help the shiver that ran through you when Magnus whispered your name, tracing his fingers up your spine and across your shoulder. Fuck, why was he doing this? you screamed inwardly. It was a bad enough situation why is he making it worse?

"Look, I'll stay in the back and I won't make a sound," you choked out, barely audible over the sound of the water. "You'll have my badge on your desk the moment we get back--"

"You will do no such thing." His words came out husked, laced with a combination of conviction and desperation that you couldn't rationalize for the life of you. "Turn around, sweet girl. Look at me."

You could feel your entire body tremble and shiver despite the hot water coming down, your knees shaking with every shuffling step you took to face him, not even sure where to look once you have. Ultimately you decided to shut your eyes, refusing to look anywhere for fear that your eyes might travel too far South.

"Magnus I'm sor--"

"Shh shh, darling." He tilted your chin upward. "Look at me, please. Let me see those beguiling eyes of yours." His thumb gently pressed on your quivering lips, tracing along your bottom lip until he coaxed you into a pout. You took a breath before opening your eyes, gasping when you caught sight of a soft smile on his face, looking at you with a gleam in his eyes that had your knees shaking even more. "There you are, sweet girl," he rasped, before leaning in and giving you a soft, tentative kiss.

You let out a whimper once he pulled away, causing him to let out a guttural sound before he pulled you flush against him. His erection pressed against your stomach, warm and pulsing on your skin.

"I won't have you apologizing," he told you huskily, hands traveling down your sides, squeezing your hips for a moment before stopping at the backs of your thighs. "And I won't have you resigning, either." He smirked at the little squeak that came out of you when your feet left the tiled floor, pressing you against the wall. "I won't have any of that talk from those perfect lips of yours."

He captured your lips with his in a kiss that stole your breath away, letting out a guttural sound against your mouth when your fingers weaved into his dampening curls. Your other hand dug into his shoulder as if holding on to any last remaining shred of your sanity while he maneuvered you so that your hips were lined up. "Magnus what're you--Oh f-f-fuck," you whimpered, your body shuddering in his hold as you felt him brushing the tip of his cock up and down your folds, teasing your entrance.

"The only thing I will have from now on, sweet girl, is you." His lips latched on to a spot between your neck and shoulder, moaning into your skin as he slid into you in a single smooth motion, your walls more than slickened enough from your failed attempts just minutes ago to bring yourself to climax. "Fullkomlighet," he whispered into your neck. "Du känner dig som himlen."

The sounds of your combined moans filled the room as he moved in you, first in slow, measured thrusts and gradually getting more frantic until the sounds of your pleasure were cut through with the sharp wet snap as your hips met. Your mind in such a haze that you hadn't realized how close you were to the release you'd been chasing earlier until his hand went back down to where your bodies were connected, fingers quickly finding and flicking hurriedly at the underside of your clit.

"Magnus!"

"Let go. I need to feel you coming apart around me. Just let go with me. I've got you, min kärlek."

He muffled your high pitched screams slanting his mouth over yours, deliciously groaning into your mouth when your tongues met in a desperate tangle. His hand curled around the back of your neck, keeping you from breaking the kiss while your body completely weakened and surrendered to your climax.

The sound of the shower knob turning broke through your haze. "Hmm?" Your unarticulated question quickly turned into a squeal muffled by his mouth when he shifted his hold on you, his length still hard. Still throbbing. And still inside you.

He began to walk you out of the bathroom. He smirked against your lips when you began to whimper, every step he took making you bounce slightly on his cock.

It was only once he had you laid out under him at the center of the bed that he broke the kiss, giving you a soft peck and a nip at your bottom lip before pulling away, his face hovering a few inches above yours. "Breathe, min kärlek." He moved your hands above your head, capturing both your wrists in one large hand and pinning them down to the mattress. "We'll leave and get back on the road in a few hours."

Magnus started moving in you again, his lips meeting yours in a passionate kiss when you arched your back off the bed, feeling every ridge of him sliding against your walls. "Wait, Magnus what do you mean--"

"I'm going to need a little more time with you before I can even think of getting back in that car and enduring the rest of the day without touching you, sweet girl." He let out a sinful moan, burying his face in the crook of your neck. "And then when we finally finish this case, you're coming home with me. From now on you're mine, min kärlek. Are we clear?"

Your answer caused him to snap his hips into yours. "Yes, Sir."

A/N: I've finally finished this piece and hopefully I can bang out (pun absolutely intended) another one this week for Conrad. Yes, I know October's done, but the initial goal stories aren't yet. And the stretch goal stories, as promised, are definitely still coming.

And while we're on the subject of biting off more than I can chew, I've made the decision to join NaNoWriMo again this year, so let's see if I can meet that bonkers goal of 50k words 🫡

Hope y'all liked this piece of older!Magnus spice 😏 Please do prepare yourselves for the next piece, 'slow & soft' with James Conrad because at the moment that is a chonky boi with 4k words…and I've only just gotten to the smutty bits.

Translations: Fullkomlighet – Perfection Du känner dig som himlen. – You feel like Heaven min kärlek – my love

And here's a gif for everyone that reads to the end:

'everything' taglist: @simplyholl @loopsisloops @imalovernotahater @coldnique @loz-3 @huntress-artemiss @salempoe @vickie5446 @athalialaufeyson @lokiprompts @kats72 @kikster606 @asgards-princess-of-mischief @lokixryss @thomase1 @mischief2sarawr @peaches1958 @lovingchoices14 @lunarnights95 @goblingirlsarah @iamlokisgloriouspurpose @creationsbyme @maple-seed @mjsthrillernp @ladyofthestayingpower @mygfloki @sititran @glitterylokislut @ozymdias @fictive-sl0th @lokidbadguy @mochie85 @silverfire475 @joyful-enchantress @elizabethmidnight2017 @holdmytesseract @smolvenger @gigglingtiggerv2 @lokidokieokie @superficialdomina @anukulee @kmc1989 @november-rayne @goddessofwonderland @buttercupcookies-blog

Kinktober taglist: @azula-karai-27

#magnus martinsson x reader #magnus martinsson x female reader #magnus martinsson smut #wallander #wallander fanfiction #kinktober #kinktober 2023 #muddyorbs writes

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labellefleur-sauvage · 9 months

Text

The Highland Fox and The English Rose

Summary:

Elain Archeron, the middle daughter of an enterprising English merchant, has been raised with one goal in mind: become the wife of a respectable Englishman. Everything else—her interests, her desires—didn’t matter. But when her father convinces her to enter into an arranged marriage with a brutal Scottish Laird to save their family from ruin, Elain is suddenly forced to reevaluate everything she thought she wanted in life.

As the newly appointed Laird of a derelict clan with a crumbling castle, marriage was the last thing on Lucien’s mind. His entire life is thrown into disarray when he is forced into a marriage contract he didn’t sign, to an Englshwoman he’d never met.

But Lucien harbors a dark, ruinous secret that affects more than just himself, and he is determined to resolve the issue at hand. Together, the Highland Fox and the English Rose will go on a journey that will force Elain and Lucien together—or drive them apart.

Read on AO3 Masterlist

XXX

Chapter 2: Oh tell me what was on yer road, ye roarin' Norlan' Wind

As far as weddings went, it wasn’t completely horrible.

Had Elain pictured something a bit more… illustrious whenever she daydreamed about her wedding as a child? Of course—what little girl, perhaps with the exception of Feyre, hadn’t been mentally planning their dream wedding since they were old enough to understand that marriage was the only fate that awaited them when they grew up? Elain had already decided on what flowers and dress she’d want at her wedding with Graysen before he’d even proposed.

Instead, as soon as Elain and her sisters arrived at the Clan Macpherson keep, sore after days of riding in a rough carriage, they were whisked into a side chamber of the aged castle, where a number of women immediately began dressing Elain in her wedding dress and fiddling with her hair.

“I didn’t realize we were in such a rush!” Elain gasped as a woman tightened her corset.

“I know, my dear,” her father sighed from across the room. Elain, Nesta and Feyre were hidden behind their dressing doors. “But you know these Scots—they have no patience for anything, and place no value in having any manners for guests.”

Elain gulped. And she was to marry a man like this?

“A word, my dear Elain.”

Elain nodded towards her sisters as she went to her father. He was dressed in a handsome new outfit: a dark burgundy suit jacket with shining gold buttons, slick black shoes and an impressive velvet black hat. She had never seen him wear anything so nice. Elain fingered her own gloves; silk, bought second hand, and already fraying around the edges.

“I just wanted to prepare you for your husband,” her father began gently. “He is… well… disfigured, to be blunt.”

“Oh,” Elain sighed, disappointed. “In what way?”

“He’s missing an eye and wears a horrible eyepatch. The side of his face is mangled as well.”

“What happened to him?”

Her father shrugged. “Who knows? Probably got in a drunken brawl, you know how these people are. Can’t go one day without nearly killing each other.”

Elain’s stomach dropped.

“Don’t fret too much, my dear,” her father said soothingly, seeing her suddenly pale face. “I just wanted to warn you before you saw him and ran away screaming. I wouldn’t blame you, but, as Englishmen and women, we must always show benevolence and grace to those below us.”

“Of course Father,” Elain agreed quietly. This was true. As the daughter of a gentleman, she was duty bound to show kindness and compassion to others, even if they were savage Scots.

And what was her Scot, her soon to be husband, like? Her sister’s words from the carriage ride, as well as her own knowledge and her father’s information, rattled through her brain as she was led towards the intimate chapel tucked away in the back of the castle. Elain’s hand gripped her father’s arm, a buoy in the tumultuous sea of her emotions.

Somehow, they were already standing outside the doors of the hall, waiting for their signal to enter. Elain wasn’t sure where the past few minutes had gone but then she heard her name being announced, and she was walking toward her future.

Elain’s first thought was that Lucien was much younger than what she was anticipating: her age, or only a few years older. She was relieved. Her second thought, on the heels of the first, was that her father greatly exaggerated his injury.

As Elain slowly walked down the aisle, her father at her side, she couldn’t tear her eyes away from her soon to be husband. Without a doubt, Lucien was the most handsome man she had ever seen. He was tall and lean, but held himself with such confidence and poise that Elain knew he must have hidden muscles under his attire. He had a thin face and one gorgeous brown eye, which was staring above Elain with as little emotion as possible.

His other eye—or where an eye should have been—was indeed covered by a brown eye patch, but neither the eyepatch nor the silver scars running down the side of his face detracted from his beauty. Instead, it just made him look wild and untamed in the best way possible.

Perhaps his most distinguished feature, even more so than his missing eye, was his luscious red hair. Someone had braided a few small sections of his hair away from his face, and it only made him more handsome. Lucien’s hair was long, perhaps even longer than Elain’s own hair, and so smooth and soft looking she was instantly and irrationally jealous that a heathen like him would be blessed with hair so fine.

Elain wasn’t even aware of being given away by her father. She didn’t know where Feyre and Nesta were, and didn’t care to look for them. All she could see was her future husband.

Lucien wore a large piece of emerald green, cobalt and dark gray wool plaid, belted at his waist and hanging just above his knees so as to give Elain a small peak of the muscles in his legs. The rest of the fabric was pinned on a broad shoulder so it flowed down his back. A long sleeved, white shirt that complimented his hair and golden brown skin beautifully was under his great kilt. Tall leather boots covered his calves. Lucien perfunctorily offered his hand when she approached the dias.

She took his hand; his skin was warm, like an inferno was blazing just below the surface. Finally, he lowered his gaze towards her own. His countenance was still bland, but his eye contained such fire, such fury, that she momentarily lost her breath. His gaze dipped behind and he glared at something before he schooled his face into the same bored mask he had been wearing before.

Elain puzzled over the anger in his eye the entire ceremony until the priest, with an obvious cough, broke her out of her thoughts. She said her vows and “I do,” and suddenly, she was a married woman.

She was still thinking of her new husband hours later, seated at the high table on a dias in the castle’s great hall next to her husband—Lucien, she thought to herself. He hadn’t said a word to her yet and hadn’t even looked at her since their ceremony.

Elain looked down at her finger. Lucien had slipped a silver ring on her finger during the ceremony. The band was composed of two intertwining pieces of metal designed to look like tree branches, with small leaves and flowers branching off. It was elegantly simple, and more refined than Elain thought any Scotsman capable of providing.

A single drum beat ripped through the air and silenced the few assembled people already sitting at the long tables throughout the cavernous room. The great wooden doors opened and the castle’s herald began announcing the lairds and lords who had been invited to the wedding.

Elain watched as a number of lairds entered the hall, each with their own distinct plaid and ornaments. Besides her, she felt Lucien tense up as more and more people entered, his mouth tight and his hand gripping the wooden armrest of his chair.

“Whatever ye do,” he whispered roughly to her, his deep voice sending chills down her spine, “doona talk to anyone here. Stick to yer sisters.”

She frowned. “Aren’t you going to introduce me to any of our guests?”

“They’re no’ our guests.”

“They’re here in your hall, celebrating our marriage!”

“The only reason they’re here,” Lucien gritted out, “is because there would be a war if we didna’ extend niceties to them and invite them. They are no’ our guests or our friends. Stay away from all of them—especially them.”

Elain looked to the two groups that Lucien pointed out. A tall, slim man with red hair the exact same shade as Lucien’s was sitting below their own table. He stared at Lucien with a cruel smirk on his face while Lucien steadfastly ignored him. The red haired man looked over at Elain. To her shock, he looked her up and down and winked at her.

At the other side of the room, in the corner, a large contingent of people with dark hair and brown skin were settling into place. Their laird, a man with almost violet eyes, was staring towards the front of the hall, where her sisters sat at the table near her and Lucien’s.

When everyone was seated, the herald swiftly made his way to the front of the hall. “Introducing,” he boomed, “Laird Lucien and his wife, Elain Archeron!”

The two of them awkwardly stood up. Elain suddenly felt adrift again as she looked out at hundreds of unfamiliar faces staring intently at her. Everyone was politely clapping, and there were some whoops and cheers from a nearby table, but she could feel the judgment radiating from the crowd. Narrowed eyes appraised her—her face, her appearance, her English-ness—and she knew she was left wanting. Elain tried to grasp Lucien’s hand, anything to prevent herself from drowning, but he shook her off, and they woodenly sat back down.

Dinner passed in a haze—she had no appetite—and then tables were pushed to the sides of the hall to create a large mingling and dancing space. Several musicians set up in the front of the hall, and the rich sounds of a drum, fiddle and harp floated over the room.

“I’m going to turn about the room,” Lucien said abruptly. “Remember: doona talk to anyone except yer sisters.” He didn’t give Elain a chance to argue her case as he swept across the hall.

Elain sighed as she watched Lucien retreat. Despite what she felt for him at the moment—annoyance, frustration—she couldn’t stop her gaze from sweeping over his strong body like she had done earlier that day.

She shook herself. She wouldn’t be caught ogling Lucien at her own wedding. Slightly embarrassed and hoping no one saw her, she looked about the room.

Below her, Nesta was using all of her patience towards convincing Feyre to stay at the table and not join the crowd. She heard snippets of their whispered argument—“Who comes to a wedding and doesn’t dance or talk to people?” “Us, because we’re two single English women surrounded by a crowd of barbarous Scotsmen!” “But the men here are so handsome!”—and kept gazing about.

She noticed her father wasn’t sitting with Feyre and Nesta—odd—but she saw Lucien talking excitedly with a regal woman with flaming hair and bright blue eyes. A tall man stood next to the woman, looking between Lucien and the woman and the rest of the room with a pair of sharp, calculating eyes.

A flair of jealousy washed over Elain. She didn’t know Lucien, and realized the weak bond of their marriage was the only thing holding them together. Despite that, she was unreasonably angry at the proud woman smiling at Lucien, and Lucien smiling and laughing back.

Perhaps it wouldn’t be so horrible if he wasn’t so handsome when he smiled, Elain thought bitterly.

It took all of her willpower to rip her gaze away from her husband. He mentioned the various Lairds weren’t here as valued guests, but why invite them? She saw one of the Lairds—a hulking blonde man with a stern face—talking to a dark skinned Laird. The blonde man was casually stroking the head of an ax belted to his body as he regarded his fellow Laird. Elain shivered; the casual violence on display unnerved her.

Another Laird, pale, with hair so fair it looked white, sat stiffly with a blonde woman, surveying the room with glacier cold eyes. Elain studied the man. He looked foreign, even compared to the Scots around him.

“They say those from Clan MacDonnell are descended from the Norsemen from the East,” a quiet voice said behind Elain. “Kallias there certainly looks like he belongs on a longship raiding coastal villages, rather than journeying across the Wall to destroy English towns.”

Elain whipped around. The red haired man, the one Lucien told Elain to stay away from, was standing right behind her. He smirked at her but there was no warmth in his cold eyes.

“If the rumors are to be believed, y’ken,” the man went on. Elain stared in shock at the man. “I think the old Viking viciousness has long been bred out of the MacDonnell’s.”

Elain glanced around her. No one was paying her any attention. “Who are you?”

“Eris Vanserra, heir apparent to the Vanserra clan.”

Elain stared at him. He towered above her, with a hard, rugged face littered with small scars and cuts. His long, red hair hung behind him in a straight sheath. Like all the men in the hall, he wore a unique tartan kilt, belted around his waist and slung over a shoulder: various shades of brown, orange, red and yellow crossing in an intricate plaid pattern. A large sword was belted at his hip. Elain gulped.

“I was hoping the new Laird would take the time to introduce us all to his lovely new bride, but obviously no one explained to him proper Scottish wedding etiquette,” Eris went on, his narrowed eyes looking Elain up and down like a piece of meat. “Eejit. I’m no’ surprised—I doona believe he has too many people here at the castle under his employ that would tell him what to do.”

Elain nervously looked around. She didn’t particularly care about obeying Lucien’s request to not talk to anyone, but she was also keenly aware that she was an Englishwoman surrounded by vicious Scottsmen and women. It seemed making polite conversation with Eris was the safest option.

“Well, er, what does proper Scottish wedding etiquette entail?”

“Ye’d actually be introduced to all yer guests, rather than put on display like a prized coo.”

Elain gasped. “Excuse you! That’s completely inappropriate!”

Eris shrugged. “At least a prized coo could have gotten the Laird more money and use for this run down keep than whatever yer probably worth. I suppose yer passably attractive though.”

For perhaps the first time in her life, Elain snapped. “Fine words, coming from a backwards, barely literate brute skulking about in a skirt to harass women!” She snapped her mouth shut and looked at Eris in shock. She had never been so rude to anyone in her life.

She braced herself for a retaliatory strike in some form, but was surprised to hear Eris softly chuckle. “I suppose there’s a bit more fire to ye than I thought.”

“I’m sorry—“

“Doona apologize,” Eris interrupted her harshly, frowning. “A word of warning: yer no’ in sweet England anymore. Most people here will do anything to make yer life a living hell, just based on where yer from. Ye need to toughen up if ye want to survive.”

Elain stared at Eris. The words and phrases he used—living hell, toughen up, survive - rang in her ears. Perhaps Feyre had the right idea all along; maybe Elain should have let her sister whisk her away while she had the chance. The sinking feeling returned to her, but instead of drowning, she realized she had been swimming in shark infested waters the moment she stepped foot in the castle.

But Elain needed this. She remembered the cautious excitement she’d felt on the journey here, when she realized that this marriage in this wild land could give her the freedoms she’d always lacked in England. If she needed to toughen up, as Eris put it, to thrive here in her new home, to fit in and discover her own interests and desires, then so be it.

And damn whatever her new husband had to say about it.

Elain took a deep breath. “Perhaps some of Clan MacDonnell’s fabled viciousness could help me now.”

Eris gave her a savage grin. “Now yer speaking like a true Scotswoman.”

“What else can I do to… acclimate to Scotland? Survive, as you put it?”

Eris stroked his jaw. “Speak yer mind plainly. Us Scots doona have time or patience for veiled niceties and double meanings.”

Elain frowned; that would be difficult. “Anything else?”

“Aye, get used to drinking. Anyone this far north should be able to drink their body weight in ale, men and women. Wouldna hurt to learn how to handle a dirk as well, just in case. And don’t be so… quiet. Ye’ve clearly got a great wit to ye, make sure to use it.”

“So I should just change everything about myself and how I was brought up, is that it?” Elain asked sarcastically.

He shrugged. “Ye asked. Ye doona need to change everything about yourself to fit in, just sharpen your soft bits.”

Elain hummed thoughtfully. Perhaps she had judged the Scots too harshly. Yes, they seemed far too familiar with violence for her liking and spoke their mind far too much, but they were far away from the uncultured savages she had pictured.

“Thank you for the advice, but who exactly are you?” Elain asked suspiciously. “And why are you even talking to me?”

“Aye, Eris, why are ye talking to my wife?”

Lucien emerged from behind a pillar, a murderous look on his face. Elain froze, terrified at her husband’s expression, though she relaxed slightly as Lucien stalked towards a still grinning Eris.

“Congratulations on yer happy nuptials, brother,” Eris said with relish, looking over at a fuming Lucien. “How sad Mother would be to see how yer treating yer new wife.”

Elain quickly looked between the two men. Now that he said it, Lucien and Eris were obviously related: they had the same red hair, brown eyes and lean, pointed faces. But Eris said he was from Clan Vanserra, and Lucien was Laird of Clan Macpherson—did Scots have a different definition of brother than the English?

“Brother?” Elain stuttered, looking at her husband. “This is your brother?”

“Unfortunately,” Lucien said, “and he was just leaving, weren’t ye?”

Eris walked up to Lucien and gave him a hard slap on the back. “Aye. I’ll let the happy couple become better acquainted.” Elain watched Eris lean down and whisper something in Lucien’s ear; whatever he said made Lucien glare at his brother.

“Get out,” he snarled.

Eris sent an ugly look back at Lucien, then he nodded at Elain before briskly walking away.

The party was still going on around them but it was just Elain and Lucien alone at the top of the hall. Lucien awkwardly cleared his throat. “Are ye alright? Did he… say anything to ye?”

“Er, not really, I suppose. We were just… talking.”

Lucien rubbed the back of his neck. “Right, good.”

Elain hummed back noncommittally, looking anywhere but the reddened face of her new husband.

Lucien’s eyes suddenly narrowed as he looked at her. “And why were ye talking to him?”

Elain scoffed. “He came to me and started the conversation. I could hardly tell him to go away.”

“Ye most certainly could have, and should.”

“Why do you even care who I talk to at my own wedding?”

“Because,” Lucien growled, “the people here—“

“Yes, yes,” Elain rolled her eyes. “Your brother already warned me that the people here hate me and that I’ll need to toughen up if I want to live here.”

He sighed. “People here don’t hate ye.”

“They don’t know anything about me other than my name and that I’m English,” Elain replied hotly. “Perhaps they’d know more if you bothered to do your duty and introduce me to anyone here.”

“It’s better for ye to not know any of the Lairds here by name, especially Eris and the Northern clans,” Lucien warned, gesturing to the dark haired guests he’d previously pointed out. “They're all dangerous.”

“At least Eris was willing to keep me company at my own wedding, unlike my husband!” Elain snapped. “You just left me alone and told me to keep my mouth shut, like a dog!”

Lucien’s face turned a shade of red not unlike his hair. “Maybe ye could do to learn a lesson from the dogs down at the stable—they’re never as loud or bother me as much as ye already are!”

Elain curled her lip. “Well, husband, unlike your dogs, I won’t blindly follow whatever orders you tell me!” Not giving him a chance to reply, Elain stormed out of the hall, uncaring of where she was going.

Her beautiful Scottish husband was a complete ass. Just her luck that she’d be married to an overbearing Laird with apparent family issues and an attitude that rivaled Feyre’s.

She slipped outside into a surprisingly manicured garden and sat on a stone bench. Gazing up at the moon, Elain reflected on what a truly terrible day it had been. From the rushed ceremony to the boring and disastrous reception and Lucien’s abysmal interest in her, she wasn’t sure what else could have gone wrong.

Maybe Feyre had the right idea of it—maybe it would have been better to abandon the carriage on the way up and fight their way back home to avoid this sham of a marriage. Elain truly hadn’t been expecting much, but she hadn’t anticipated being compared to a dog on her wedding night.

“There you are. Needed a few minutes to yourself?”

A soft rusting of skirts, and then Nesta sat down lightly on the stone bench next to her.

Elain sighed, unsurprised to see her eldest sister. “Something like that. Are you enjoying yourself?”

“More than it appears you are,” Nesta replied, looking at Elain out of the corner of her eye.

Elain chuckled bitterly. “Certainly not the wedding I imagined for myself.”

Nesta sighed, then wrapped an arm around Elain’s shoulder, bringing her close. They sat in silence for several moments, letting the cool night air linger on their faces.

“Did you come out here for a reason?” Elain asked some time later.

Nesta winced. “To check on you… and get you ready for tonight.”

“Tonight?”

“With Lucien.”

Elain blushed. Although her mother had passed away when she was younger, some kind aunts had explained what happened between a married man and woman on their wedding night.

“I’ll admit, I forgot about that.”

Nesta took her hand in a reassuring squeeze. “That’s understandable. Are you ready to come in?”

Is it too late to say no? Elain thought. Not just for the evening ahead, but all of it: living in Scotland, running a castle, and being married to a man who seemed completely at odds with her.

Elain sat up a bit straighter. There was nothing she could do about her marriage now. She needed to toughen up if she wanted to live in Scotland and find herself; this was just something she needed to do to get herself there.

“I’m ready,” Elain said with more conviction than she felt. Nesta led them inside to a large room filled with maids, and they all began preparing Elain for her first night as a married woman.

From the first moment his bride to be turned the corner into the little chapel, Lucien knew he was fucked.

Elain was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. A true English rose, with those giant brown eyes framed by thick eyelashes and luscious hair cascading down her back in soft waves and framing her pretty heart shaped face perfectly. Her cheeks and lips were petal pink; he wondered where else on her body was that lovely shade of rose.

Likening her to a single rose was an insult to her beauty: the woman in front of him was more beautiful than the finest bouquet of wildflowers, more lovely than a crisp autumn morning in the Clan Vanserra woods, and breathtaking like plunging face first into a cool loch on the first day of spring.

She was petite—he doubted she graced his shoulder—with generous curves under her dress. Lucien bet his hands would fit perfectly in the dip of her waist, over her breasts, between her legs…

Lucien looked away from her and shifted slightly. He hadn’t expected to become stiff at his own wedding, and he willed his cock to stand down, thinking of anything that would divert the blood in his body elsewhere. He hadn’t been expecting much, really, but Elain Archeron was already somehow better than what he was expecting.

This woman didn’t deserve this, Lucien thought bitterly. Shackled to him, a man forced into marrying her because her father cared more about lining his pockets than the happiness of a daughter. It sickened him to know Mr. Archeron thought so poorly of his daughter; based on the small smiles she sent her father’s way, Lucien guessed Elain had no idea she had been sold like livestock to a cornered bidder.

Lucien glared at the man responsible for all his misery, trying to convey all of his hatred into one eye. Mr. Archeron didn’t look upset at all by the proceedings, nor did he seem particularly bothered by the fact that his own clothes were nicer than that of all three of his daughter’s combined.

After what felt like one prolonged heartbeat, Elain was in front of him. She took his offered hand with one of her own, and he finally lowered his gaze to her.

He tried to not let the anger he felt on her behalf show but knew, based on the slight widening of Elain’s eyes, that he wasn’t successful. Lucien spared one final glare towards Mr. Archeron then focused back on his wife.

This near to her, Lucien could make out the freckles dusting the bridge of her nose and cheeks. Her eyes were an even more intense brown than he thought, pulling him in like a siren at sea. Elain blushed and looked away, her tongue darting out to lick her lips.

She was as innocent as a fawn, and the realization hit him suddenly: she was going to be eaten alive here.

The Lairds of the Highlands were always plotting against one another, whether for more territory, better resources, or because they were bored on a particular Tuesday and thought starting a war with a neighboring Laird would help pass the time. Lucien, as the newest and one of the youngest Lairds in the Highlands, was already a target from neighboring leaders for the few bountiful lochs and fertile fields within his borders, not to mention the new trade routes that would benefit his clan. A new, young, pretty wife would make those Lairds even more envious.

His stomach lurched. Just imagining Elain surrounded by the other Lairds and their cohorts, their malicious eyes gazing over his wife’s gentle face, their minds scheming to ruin her, made him sick. Some of the Lairds—Vassa, Tamlin—could be trusted more than others, but he felt cold with the idea of any of them getting near his wife.

His wife who he now had to protect. All he could think, as the priest rattled on and on, was that his hands and brain were already full of one mission to save someone; how would he add shielding his delicate English wife to his already full plate?

He was still puzzling over that later, long after the ceremony had ended and the reception began. It only got worse when the lairds of the land began filing in with their retinues.

There was Tamlin Stewart, hulking and brooding as ever. His lands were far to the south, and it comforted Lucien to see a friendly face at this farce of a wedding. They sent brief nods to each other across the hall before Lucien focused on the rest of the Lairds flowing in.

Laird Tarquin Lamont, from the West Coast, entered next, followed by Kallias MacDonnell. Both of them had tentatively agreed to trading contracts and routes with Lucien—routes that his new father in law was going to exploit, he knew. Lucien couldn’t keep the scowl off his face.

To make matters worse, Lucien saw Eris stroll into the hall, wearing the familiar tartan pattern that Lucien had spent his entire life up until a few months ago wearing. His heart briefly ached, quickly replaced by rage when Rhysand Sinclair and his so called “inner court” sauntered into the hall.

Finally their guests—Lucien could think of several words he’d rather use to describe the people occupying his hall at the moment—settled in. The castle’s portly herald rushed to the front of the hall.

“Introducing,” his voice rang out, “Laird Lucien and his wife, Elain Archeron!”

The two of them awkwardly stood up. Lucien made sure to send steely gazes to the assembled Lairds before him, willing all the mutual anger and disdain he felt for most of them into his remaining eye. He felt a small fluttering by his hand; some of the frayed threads on the cuff of his well-worn shirt quickly mended before the ceremony must have come unraveled. Shaking his arm to dispel the loose threads, Lucien sat back down heavily with a final leer around the room.

Lucien had little appetite, choosing instead to brood over his ale. He spared a glance at Elain. It seems she wasn’t fond of the food, as she pushed her potatoes around her plate.

The firelight in the hall caught his glittering finger. His wedding band, a simple piece of iron no doubt thrifted by his new father-in-law, mocked him from its new place on his hand. It spoke of his future: tarnished, heavy, and bound to someone he didn’t want.

Lucien couldn’t breathe. He needed to get away from this stranger before he said something he’d regret. “I’m going to turn about the room,” he said abruptly. “Remember: doona talk to anyone except yer sisters.”

Elain may have tried to say something, but he didn’t wait to find out, leaving their table and walking directly towards Vassa and Jurian.

“Here comes the man of the hour himself,” Vassa said, an impressive eyebrow arching as she watched Lucien thunder up to the pair. “Yer looking far more upset on yer wedding day than any man should be.”

“Och, stop it,” Lucien snapped. “We all ken this is a joke of a wedding.”

“Joke or no’, ye just married one of the most bonnie lasses on either side of the wall. That alone would have any other man in this hall smiling from ear to ear.”

Lucien scowled, thinking the lairds assembled would do much more to his innocent English wife given the chance. “That lass is nothing but a burden and a liability—“

“As is the curse of women everywhere, hm?” Vassa asked, her lips turned down and that all too familiar fire lighting up her eyes. “Nothing but burdens for the men around them.”

Lucien deflated, Vassa’s words making his face redden. “I’m sorry. Yer right, of course. None of this is her fault. It’s that damned father of hers—!”

“Keep yer voice down!” Vassa scolded, smacking him lightly on the arm. No one else but Vassa could get away with that. “Ye’ll frighten Elain to death if a fight breaks out on yer wedding day!”

“A fight might be helpful,” Jurian said lightly, eyeing the different factions gathered under Lucien’s roof. “Let the lairds work out some of the tension between themselves.”

Lucien quirked an eyebrow at Jurian. As a former English military man who absconded from his home country the moment he laid eyes on Vassa Fraser, it was helpful to have an outside perspective on Scottish clan life. “Have ye been hearing things?”

“Rumors of Laird Sinclair tightening up roads and access into his territory, as well as stationing more men of fighting age near and around Sangravah.”

Lucien’s stomach dropped. “Do ye think—?”

“No,” Jurian responded quickly. “I don’t think it has anything to do with… that. I’ve heard something valuable is hidden there, but I’ve no idea what.”

“How did he even manage to make it down here on such short notice?”

“No doubt that Spymaster of his heard some rumblings on the wind and informed him of a wedding that he should attend, to remind the rest of the Lairds of his presence,” Jurian sneered.

Lucien cursed. “What is that bastard planning? Why now?”

“Perhaps he’s planning something with the English crown again,” Vassa said darkly, shooting a dark glare towards Laird Rhysand Sinclair. “Allying with them in exchange for safety for him and his lands.”

The three of them exchanged dark glances.

“Perhaps we should—“

“No,” Lucien interrupted Jurian, his voice tight. “I’ll have to breach Sinclair lands one way or the other; backroads on foot is still the fastest way.”

Jurian was silent for a moment, then shrugged, taking a sip of his ale. “Better you than me—I’d be hanged on site if the English or their agents catch me. Traitor to the crown and whatnot.”

“Don’t worry, my dear,” Vassa crooned, lightly stroking the back of Jurian’s neck, “the only thing that will ever be around yer neck will be my plaid or my hands.”

“Ugh, not in public, you two,” Lucien groaned. “Heathens, both of ye!” As much as Lucien detested their public displays of affection, his own heart panged with jealousy. With his new marriage to Elain, the chances of him having that kind of easy familiarity with another person was slim.

“Maybe once ye get to know yer bonny little wife a wee bit better she’ll be more than willing to do the same for ye,” Vassa said, with such an exaggerated grin and wink that Lucien couldn’t help laughing with her.

“Thank ye both for attending at such short notice,” Lucien said quietly. “It’s been… challenging, but having ye here has made it a bit better.”

“Wouldn’t miss our dearest friend’s wedding if the Gordans, Grahams and Grants were knocking at our doors,” Vassa said fondly, and for the first time in days, Lucien felt like not everything was falling apart around him.

“So, how’s that business with yer loch coming along?” Lucien asked, changing the subject to Vassa’s recent bird infested lake.

This was how it should be, Lucien thought wistfully as he listened to Vassa complain about the aggressive birds tormenting her. No English wife, no horribly conniving father in law, no castle threatening to crumble around him at any day’s notice, and no one needing him to play the hero. Just relaxing at the Clan Fraser keep, talking and drinking with his friends, without a care in the world.

“How’s Eris doing?” Vassa asked suddenly, staring off into the distance.

Lucien frowned. “Er—not sure. I saw that he was here on Beron’s behalf but I didna exactly feel the need to talk to him.”

“Ah. Well, it seems he’s made a new friend in Elain.”

Whipping his head around, Lucien stared in open-mouthed horror as he watched, like time had slowed down to taunt him, his eldest snake of a brother talking to Elain, alone. To her credit, she wasn’t cowering like he expected she would, but seemed… thoughtful, if a bit annoyed at his presence.

“Shite!” Lucien blurted out. “I have to go!”

Leaving a chuckling Vassa and Jurian behind him, he made his way back to the front of the hall, where Eris had drawn Elain into a corner. He heard Elain ask Eris who he was and why he was here, and Lucien was interested in the answer as well. “Yes, Eris, why are ye talking to my wife?”

Eris grinned unapologetically at Lucien, giving him some cockamamie answer about congratulating them on their marriage and their disappointed mother. Lucien saw red—for him to speak of their mother now…

Elain was certainly surprised to learn a relative of Lucien’s was at the wedding, her gaze comically darting between Lucien and Eris. He would almost laugh at her reaction if Lucien wasn’t so terrified of what Eris might have revealed to Elain.

Eris finally excused himself after some not so gentle pushing from Lucien, but not before his older brother got the last word. “Include her in yer plans,” Eris hissed in Lucien’s ear. “She’s smarter than she looks—“

“Get out.”

Eris shot him a deep frown then left without another word. This couldn’t get any worse.

But it could, as Lucien got into an argument with his new wife. An argument, he reflected later while sitting at their table, alone, in which he had compared her to a dog. What was wrong with him?

The chair that Elain had sat in earlier moved back and Tamlin sat down with a heavy thud. He didn’t say anything to Lucien, but sat there drinking his ale and looking over the hall, still filled with laughter and dancing.

“Bit of a rough start to the marriage?” Tamlin asked.

Lucien snorted into his cup. “To say the least. Damn England and everyone from it!”

“Well, they’re not all so bad,” Tamlin murmured. “What do ye think of Elain’s younger sister, Feyre?”

Lucien looked at Tamlin, astounded. He’d known Tamlin nearly his entire life, the Stewart’s land being south of Clan Vanserra’s. The family’s were always on friendly terms with one another. Like Lucien, Tamlin held no love for the English any more than he did.

“Uh, a bit… spirited, that one,” Lucien answered diplomatically. The eldest, Nesta, possessed a coldness that rivaled Kallias, and Feyre reminded him of Rhysand Sinclair himself with how devious, lethal and clever she appeared to be.

“She’s quite interesting, Feyre,” Tamlin went on, still looking about the room. “Had a good discussion on hunting techniques a little while ago.”

“Alright,” Lucien said, unsure why Tamlin was telling him this or why he decided to talk to Feyre in the first place. He had had enough talk of the English today, and didn’t want to hear one more word about them. “I’m going to talk to some of the others here.”

Tamlin grunted noncommittally and Lucien leapt to his feet. He didn’t have long to dwell on the odd conversation as he moved from table to table, talking with guests and working out the final details on a few of his new trade routes with some Lairds.

“I’m ready for bed, Dougal,” Lucien said hours later. He stumbled out of the hall—he hadn’t realized how much he had drunk. All he needed, he thought to himself as Dougal helped him to his room, was a nice, peaceful sleep and a hearty breakfast in the morning.

“I got it from here Dougal, yer dismissed,” Lucien yawned, throwing open his bedroom door and slamming the door closed behind him.

Someone had lit dozens of candles around the room—odd, since he usually let the light of the moon bathe his room with light, rather than deal with the hassle of candles. And there was something moving on his bed—

“There you are! I’ve been waiting for hours!”

“Sweet hell, woman!” Lucien shouted, stumbling backwards and nearly falling on his backside. “What are ye doing here?”

“This thing called ‘consummating the marriage’,” Elain sneered at him from the bed, his sheet pulled up to her chin as she sat up. “I was told that’s one of the few wedding customs we share.”

“Ach, hell,” Lucien groaned, rubbing his hands over his face. “It’s been a long night—“

“Have you been calling your guests all kinds of horrible names as well, or was that honor just reserved for me?”

“That was wrong of me,” Lucien began, leaning against his dresser for support. “I ken this…situation isn’t yer choice—“

“It’s not, but I’m—“ hiccup! ”—at least trying to make this work!”

“Have ye been drinking?” Lucien asked incredulously.

“The maids may have given me something as they were preparing me,” Elain admitted. Lucien could see the light pink blush on her cheeks and she licked her lips. “Said it was to settle the nerves and make it easier for me.”

“No’ like this,” Lucien said wearily. “It’s no’ right, to take ye like that if yer no’ ready.”

She glared at him, standing up and taking the bedsheet with her. “Who says I’m not ready? I’m a grown, married woman—I can decide these things for myself now.”

“We haven’t had the best start, yer in a new land—yer overwhelmed—“

“Would someone who’s overwhelmed do this?” Elain asked, dropping the bedsheet so she stood completely naked in front of Lucien.

If he were a better man, Lucien would have turned away immediately, left the room and sent in a maid to make sure Elain slept comfortably and was safe. Hell, if he were the best type of man, he’d have left the room immediately when she admitted she had been plied with alcohol to make her endure their first coupling.

Lucien was not a good man. He stared, empty-headed, at the sight of his naked wife’s beautiful body in the soft glow of the candle light. Her breasts were small and her nipples peaked, the same dusty rose gracing her cheeks. She was just as curvy as he knew she was, with a tiny waist his hands could grip as she bounced in his lap, her hips wide and perfect for his hands to plant themselves on when he fucked her on all fours, her thighs soft when she’d eventually wrap them around his waist as he pounded into her, or even better, clenched around his head when he buried his face in the brown curls between her legs.

“Oh shite, yer naked,” Lucien stammered, closing his eyes and swiftly turning away, only to launch himself into his solid wood clothes chest. His forehead cracked against the wood and his knees hit the hard, stone floor with a thud and he rolled on his side, curled up pathetically on the ground.

“Lucien!” Elain called.

“Doona!” he gasped, screwing his eyes shut and forcing himself to stand on shaky legs away from her. If it wasn’t embarrassing enough that he ran into a dresser and possibly concussed himself, his cock was standing at full mast under his kilt, the head of his length rubbing uncomfortably against the scratchy wool.

“Take my bed for the night,” he called out, reaching for the door handle.

“Do you need—?”

“No!” Lucien growled with more force than even he was expecting. He turned his head to see Elain staring at him, wide eyed with shock that quickly morphed into a glare. “Ye’ve done enough for one night. Just… stay in here for the night. Please.”

Lucien thought he heard Elain mutter something under her breath but he didn’t wait to listen to hear. Wrenching the door open, he fled the room. He didn’t have a destination in mind—just far away from the woman who was now his wife, his future, his everything.

Perhaps if he ran far enough away, Lucien thought, he could outrun all of his problems.

#elucien #elucien fanfic #elain archeron #lucien vanserra #acotar #a court of thorns and roses #my fic #my fics #pro elucien #elain x lucien #gotta move this shit along #the god thing with an arranged/forced marriage trope #you just get the wedding over with

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dirtdawgskenn · 2 years

Text

Uvogin X Fem Reader

This is so embarrassing... I’ve never written any fan fiction before but, my boy Uvogin doesn’t get enough love. So I'm taking matters into my own hands by writing my own. Hopefully everyone that sees this can look past all my horrible grammar.. ANYWAY! ENJOY! (Or don't, I cant really tell you what to do.)

Also if anyone can give me tips for better writing or a request for any phantom troupe characters, i would love to hear them.

TW: Reader is drunk, murder, reader gets hurt, fights, and kidnapping.

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The underground auction, you've heard of it before but weren’t too familiar. After all, it was mostly the mafia community who attended and kept the auctions going. The only reason you heard of the auction was people mentioning it around the city and a conversation you happened to overhear between two men at a bar. You weren't interested in going and even if you were, you could never in your wildest dreams pay for a auction pass.

All of a sudden a man shouting woke you up from your deep thought about the bizarre wonders of the auction. As you snapped back into reality, realizing how hunched over in the high bar stool you had been. You quickly straightened your posture, and whipped your head around toward the noise. The bartender behind the bar looked furious, and he was staring directly at you.

“For christ sake lady, I told you we closed 15 minutes ago.”

Immediately understanding why he looked so angry you jumped down from the high chair and reached for your bag all while tripping over yourself and almost falling down. Panicking while you felt his eyes on the back of your head, you mumbled a very quick pathetic apology and stumbled your way out of the bar.

Once the door had slammed shut you started to move your feet to start walking further into the night expecting to drive home. As you looked around you laughed at how tingly you felt and how dizzy everything was ‘Heh, i should NOT be driving right now’ you slowly thought to yourself. That wasn't the only thing though, looking around off the small amount of pavement just outside the building. You were surprising in the middle of absolutely nowhere.

“Seriously... where am I.” You obviously had way too much to drink since you had no memory of how you got here and where you even were. Putting in a little bit of effort, you managed to find your phone after not so gracefully digging through your bag. As you pulled it to your face it lit up showing the time as 1:20AM.

“oh.. I fucked up” you exclaimed to yourself out loud, which was followed by a loud “FUCK.” after checking to see your phone had no service either. Glancing back to the door you just came out of, the inside of the bar was already pitch black. ‘what the hell am i going to do.’ Looking around the very small gravel parking lot, you saw no cars either. ‘How did the workers already leave?’ Into the distance you could see a road but you didn't see any cars there either. It was almost 1:30AM after all, so you doubt anyone would be driving wherever you were anyway.

After contemplating what to do for a long while, you decided it would be in your favor to walk along side of this road until you find a gas station or get enough bars on your phone to call an Uber or taxi. Looking back at the road you felt a chill go up your spine, seeing absolutely no light other than the moon and stars. That was uncommon since you lived in York New City, and for the most part the light pollution covered up the night sky. Since you could clearly see the sky, it meant you were further away from home than you thought.

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The whole world around you felt like it was spinning faster than it ever would. The numbness held your body like a blanket, but the numbing feeling wasn't enough to stop you from feeling immense pain of the rocks and other various items on your feet, since walking in heels wasn’t really an option right now. About 30 minutes into this walk you saw not a single car yet, and there was no signs of getting service anytime soon. So boring, there wasn't much to look at other than this shitty desert and a few dead animals on the side of the road. ‘Gross..’

Before completely going completely insane from the boredom you decided to hum, which soon developed into singing some stupid song from that bar. You stupidly laughed to yourself while singing, dancing, and jumping around to pass the time while checking your phone for a signal periodically. You would've looked insane to anyone who passed by, but not one soul has done so yet. Closing your eyes while you dramatically threw your arms out looked up into the air and screeched a verse from that dumbass song.

“AND I CANT FIGHT THIS FEELING ANYMO-”

You immediately stumbled over after closing your eyes and falling onto the slightly sandy and rocky pavement of the road. Laughing while rolling onto your back soon followed by you sprawling out and laying like a starfish in the middle of the road. You kept singing loudly and shut your eyes again to feel the small breeze. Which got kind of, louder? You sat straight up with your legs in the same spot they were in before and opened your eyes to see nothing. Turning your head to otherside you the bright lights of a car about 20 feet away speeding toward you.

“OH MY GOODD.” You stood up as quickly as you could but the driver was way too close and had to pull a whole Tokyo drift to avoid hitting you. Which resulting in the entire car slamming against the hill of rock on the left side of the road. You stood there frozen just staring dumbly at what had just happened. ‘Oh god, oh god, oh god, no no no.’ You couldn't believe you saw that happen. The damage didn’t look too bad..? It was still your fault regardless, and that guilt was enough to make you start to cry, and your breath sped up rapidly as you did. You put your hands on the back of your head while tears fell from your face.

You panicking once you saw the driver side of the door open but was quickly replaced with relief after you saw a younger man walk out perfectly okay. From what you saw he was blond and a bit short. Putting your arms back down, you stumbled up to him and started to sob and cry out an apology as he also walked toward you.

“S-Sir i-m so sorry, i was being stupid and i didn’t think anyone drove-” He stomped up to you and roughly grabbed your wrist just before starting to yell at you. “What the actual hell were you thinking?!” He took absolutely no pity on your crying and got even angrier once you tried to speak again. “You have no idea how badly this could've turned out for me. Tonight has been so stressful.” he kept yelling even as another person, this time in the back of the damaged car got out. This man was taller then the former and had darker longer hair. As the blond man finally stopped yelling, he yanked your wrist toward the ground and you fell on your hands and knees toward the second man.

“Squala, I want you to put her in the back with you. I don’t know where she came from or what she saw tonight. We can question her as soon as we deal with everything else.” He demanded to the taller man.

” As the blond turned around to walk back you heard the clinking sound of what sounded like a chain. ‘This is bad news, what are these people even talking about.’ you thought to yourself. You didn’t have any idea what he mean’t by ‘what she saw tonight’. Panicked and afraid of what these people would do with you, you quickly stood up wobbled around trying to run before the so called Squala got a firm and hard grip on your wrist.

“OW, P-please let go!” You yelped.

“W-what? T-thats insane! We don't even know her!” Squala nervously stuttered while he talked.

“I don’t care!” The blond yelled back just before getting into the car slamming the door of the driver seat.

After signing to himself Squala started dragging you back effortlessly despite you sobbing, screaming, and dragging your bare feet in protest. After 30 seconds of screaming bloody murder and seriously hurting your feet. You felt yourself get thrown into the backseat of the damaged but still working car. Through the blur of tears you could only feel the seat and what felt kind of like another person but it didn't matter. The only thing that mattered right now was getting away, calling the cops, and getting back home safely. Kicking off of the seat back at Squala, you tried smacking hitting punching as best as you could. ‘I just need an opening to get away from these people, i’ll run as far away as I need to.’ Although you were easily shoved back into the car after only getting a few small hits that didn't do much.

“Come on Kurapika! We don’t need to take her. It’s just more work for us.” Squala nagged.

“I said i don’t care!” He shouted back. “Hurry up we need to go to the hotel, we have a tail right now!”

You kept kicking and screeching at Squala to let you go. Thats when you heard a woman's voice say something, you couldn't make out what she said but it did catch you off guard to hear another woman. As you looked over toward where the voice came from out of instinct, you felt a hard punch to the bottom of your jaw. It didn’t hurt too badly but it was hard enough to leave you stunned. After that punch Squala easily grabbed your arms and set you into the middle seat next to him.

As the engine started, a conversation or what sounded like more of an agrument between the blond driver and Squala broke out. You saw from your very blurry vision a shorter lady looking back at you too. Between the punch that left you stunned, the adrenaline rush, and how drunk you were, you gave up for a minute and relaxed against the car seat and whatever was beside you. ‘Actually wait what is that?’ you thought as you weakly turned your head and saw a huge man?

As you looked up at him with teary and tired eyes you saw his face for a second then noticed he was looking straight down at you. You looked down feeling ashamed remembering he had witnessed your pathetic attempt to escape, and also the fact he saw you laying in the middle of road, and not to add the fact you are currently crying on his arm. ‘OH MY GOD IM CRYING ON THIS MANS ARM.’ you jolted yourself off of him and looked straight ahead. The man beside you let out a small but deep chuckle, you could only assume he was laughing at you.

You didn’t look back up at him instead glancing out of the corner of your eye you saw something shinny on him, you noticed chains wrapped around his entire body. Following the chain it lead up to the blond driver. ‘What in the world..’ This man beside you, was he also kidnapped? ‘No he couldn't of been, he looks way too strong for that.’ Hearing a slight “Psst.” You looked back at the big man as the blond driver started talking to the woman beside him ignoring whatever Squala had previously said. This big burly man was staring daggers at you. This time... you didn’t look away. He looked at you and nodded toward the blond driver. You looked back and forth between him and the driver which made you dizzier than before.

You knew what this man was trying to tell you. Even so, he leaned down toward you and let out a demanding loud whisper.

“Get him.”

That immediately caught the attention of Squala but not as fast as you connected the dots and lunged toward the front seat. ‘This is the only way out, the longer these people have me the lower my chance of escape.’ Squala tried grabbing your legs but he was too late. It was a blur but you were already taking action grabbing the blonds face, you smacked, punched, and kicked him however you could. As the car spun out of control, once again it crashed off to the side. You jolted forward when the car came to a grinding halt. Then jolting right back at the driver on your own, trying to elbow him off of you.

What felt like a second later you and the blond were already outside on the concrete fighting it out. So much was happening at once, you couldn't comprehend where he was going to try and hit you next. The woman and squala had tried several times to try and restrain you from doing any more damage to the blond but it was futile. Your face hurt and you knew you would suffer injuries but it wasn't the time to focus on that. The blond looked furious as he swung as your face and landed a hard blow. By the last fighting moments you both had blood running down your faces and bruises starting to form already.

This was disgusting, you hated every part of this. ‘I can’t believe this.’ This wasn’t like you, you weren’t the type to ever start a fight, nor have you ever been in one before tonight. ‘What have i done..’ you thought as you looked down at the blonds face that was beaten to a pulp. You had no idea how you managed to knock him out but he was unconscious now. The chain that was connected to this right hand disappeared out of thin air. A weak whisper left your mouth “What the hell-” before you heard 2-3 car doors slam and a few people yelling. Another car had pulled up and you didn't even notice. ‘When did they get here?’ You had a quick thought about helping that man that was in the backseat with you but thought otherwise. Once 3 or 4 people came out from the car.

“Quick Melody get back into the car, drive away n-now!” Squala shrieked.

Hearing that car, made you pick up your feet and start sprinting away from all of those people. The shorter woman tried grabbing you but you yanked you arm away. You heard multiple peoples footsteps behind you but you just kept running. They weren’t following you but you didn’t care, you could now see the city although it was shaking from the alcohol and was blurry through your teary vision.

After running a safer distance away you turned around to see squala and the short women on the ground with others standing around them. Everything was happening so fast. ‘They didn’t kill them.. did they..’ You noticed a few people looking in your direction. ‘I need to get off this road.’ Taking a hard right turn you zipped into the desert.

If anything running on the road is way easier, but in the desert you can find a place to hide. ‘That road is completely straight if someone is faster than me they could easily catch me, and k-kill me.’ Dodging anything that got in the way. Trying to avoid so many different things eventually lead to you falling over into the dirt and sand a couple times.

After the 5th fall you felt defeated and started to cry again, everything was so overwhelming. Your clothes were covered in a mix of blood, sand, and dirt. Your nose was bleeding and bruises littered your arms and legs. All the alcohol was starting to make you feel sick and you felt like you needed to vomit. Your feet hurt and were covered with scratches and scrapes, but worst of all you wanted to go home.

You dragged yourself across the dirty sand to lean up against this rock. You had lost your purse full of valuable items that cant easily be replaced, and you had no phone to call for help. You didn't know what to do. “Im exhausted” you weakly huffed out loud. Leaning against the rock was peaceful until you heard the loudest yell you've ever heard in your life. It was so loud in fact you rushed your shaky hands to cover your ears despite how tired you were.

Inside you wanted to stay in the desert until morning, then walk to the nearest police station and get help. Yet you knew it wasn’t over yet and that those people from before would come out looking for you, since you did see them murder those others... Slowly and quietly curling up closer to your only comfort right now, this rock. Looking around, you realized this attempt at hiding was awfully sad especially in a life or death situation. There wasn’t very many things big enough to take cover with. If someone was going to look for you they would find you very quickly. Just as you thought to keep running further away you heard talking from about where the road was. ‘It was too late..’ You slowed your frantic breathing down by covering your face with your hand.

It was multiple people talking, surely it was. ‘It’s 3 or 4 people, no no its more than that.’ you thought to yourself. I guess in the heat of the moment curiosity got the better of you, since you peaked your head to the side of the rock. You saw six people including that big man from the car. Seeing him made you think about going out, but the people with him are murders. ‘Why was he chained up in the first place?’ Shaking while slowly pulling your head back behind the rock, you listened closely to anyone you could hear.

The talking in the distance was faint but you were sure after hearing a few key words, 100% sure. They were looking for you.

“COME ON OUT, WE AREN’T GONNA HURT YA!” Called out the big man from before.

That confirmed it, they are looking for you. You shouldn't trust him you can’t trust him, you don’t have any reason to believe they won't hurt you. ‘They are going to kill me after i saw what they did..’

“Uvo, she is probably scared to death after all of that shit you told us.” another mans voice spoke. This time they were way closer, the footsteps were way louder. You starting crying harder letting out little whimpers as you sobbed. ‘Im gonna die..’ You sniffled a bit too loud. Which cause you to smack your other hand over your face which was even louder than the sniffle. ‘Oh god Im an idiot..’ You closed your eyes which only made more tears fall down your cheeks onto your shaking hands.

“I heard her.” a woman chimed in this time, she sounded really over it.

“Me too.” agreed the bigger man who was called Uvo by the others.

Foot steps approached you and they got louder, and louder. You were shaking uncontrollably. You opened your eyes praying that he wouldn't find you, that everything was going to be okay.. You looked down into your knees as the footsteps kept approaching until they stood right in front of you.

Thats when you finally looked up slowly to see him standing over you with a triumph smile on his face.

“I found her!” He exclaimed as he knelt down closer to your level.

He barely got a sound out of his mouth before you let your hand fall from your face to grab your knees tighter to your chest and cried out “P-please don’t hurt me.. I don’t have any idea what has happen tonight!” “It wasn’t my fault! Really!” His smile left his face and he only stared at you confused as your voice shook as you contained. “I couldn’t get home and i was being s-stupid!” “I didn’t realize I would cause any damage!” “I-I Promise i wont tell anyone about a-anything I saw!”

The amount of sobbing and crying was making it hard to talk. Your breath hitching in between every other word didn’t help either and eventually he interrupted your story that made no sense, with a unexpected, understanding, and sweet voice

“Oh sweetheart it ain’t your fault.” He reached toward you which made you tense. You flinched and covered your face by putting your hands up around it. He grabbed underneath your legs and around your waist and lifted you up with ease.‘How could he even be this strong?’ He held you closer to him with one arm almost like a baby..? He felt warm against you ‘How could he even be this strong?’

When you saw the others were closer than you thought, you covered your face with your hands and kept crying and whimpering. You were scared and afraid, you knew mostly everyone was looking at you which made you feel even worse and embarrassed. You felt ugly whenever you cried. You felt the big man carrying you, start to walk toward the road with the others walking ahead of him.

“Finally. we. can. go. back. to. the. hideout.” A man said quietly with an accent.

“Yeah serious Uvo, what was this all about anyway?” The same woman who spoke earlier argued.

“Shut up Machi,” Uvo jeered back at her. “It doesn’t matter anyway, you guys tell the boss ill be back by tomorrow before 6:00.”

“You aren't coming?” Said another mans voice, this one you haven't heard before.

“No I'm not.” Uvo grunted.

“Fine, whatever. The boss will probably want to have a talk with you about this anyway.” The woman answered.

Your sobbing had slowed down but regardless you were still crying and tense over the situation. Before you knew it Uvo was standing by the two cars you had previously ran away from. You couldn't really tell with yours hands blocking your field of vision, still not brave enough to remove them. You could smell iron in the air and you sure as hell didn’t want to figure out the cause of it. Hearing a cars engine start and after a few more short conversations, with that lady from before through a car window, they drove off and you were left alone with this random man.

“So..” He started “I know you’ve probably have been through a lot tonight hun, but I'm still gonna need you to answer my questions later, alright?”

You quickly mustered up enough courage to give a quick “Mhmm..” as a answer. It was confusing, confusing how nice he was. Although you didn’t get the greatest look at this mans face, his voice and physique was still enough to scare you. His voice was dark, deep and rough. He was extremely tall too, like freakishly tall, and not to mention how he picked you up with ease. His body must be straight muscle since his skin feels hard as a rock. He slowly walked around to the other side of the car as he talked.

“You can take your hands off your face now.” You didn’t want to but didn't protest when he grabbed your wrists and pulled them away from your face.

“See? Ain’t that better for ya, no need to be embarrassed now.” he gruffly yet sweetly said.

You slightly looked down and leaned into his chest more so he couldn't see your face and you sniffled into him. He stopped walking by the passenger side of the damaged car that was left on the side of the road. Just before grabbing your chin to force you look at him.

“Whats your name hun?” he asked you.

‘Should you really tell him your real name?’

“ uh, (y/n).” you mumbled before you really thought it through.

“Im Uvogin, but you can just call me Uvo for short, since i know you ain’t one for words huh.” He said looking down at you while finishing his sentence with a toothy grin.

You meet eyes with him and mumbled yet another “Mhmm.” this time a bit louder with a little more confidence.

This is the first time you had gotten a real look at his face since you weren't dizzy and crying as much and he was, really attractive actually. He had gorgeous golden brown eyes, his hair was dark brown and was wild like a lions mane. He had sideburns and bushy eyebrows, even you weren't one for facial hair yet..

Uvogin had snapped you out of your thought when he started setting you down on the passenger seat of the car.

“How about i get a hotel for the two of us, yeah?” Uvogin decided.

“Ah uh, o-okay!” you dumbly replied, not even listening to what he really said.

Still staring up at him as he leaned in closer toward you and gave you a light kiss on your cheek. Your whole face heated up when he backed away from you.

“We both need to clean up after all.” He chuckled as he took a finger to wipe some blood away from underneath your nose.

“Don’t worry sweetheart, i’ll take care of ya.”

---------------<3

#uvoginxreader #uvogin #hxh #hunter x hunter #uvoginxy/n #uvoginxyou #phantom troupe #hxh x reader #uvo x reader #uvo #uvogin headcannons #uvogin x reader

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midwinterhunt · 6 months

Text

I was a teen, just trying to borrow my mom's car. Going to some event or another. I was driving down a slope and the car got going really fast and I couldn't make the breaks work fast enough and an intersections was coming up... I decided that I was in the middle of the road, no cars were parked around me, and no one behind me, so it was better to spin out than go into the intersection.

I almost rolled. Almost. In the end I pulled over to the curb to check the damage. No obvious dents, but the tires were all loose and bent where they were mounted and one had been torn at the rubber and was very flat.

While I was assessing the damage a cop showed up. Luckily it didn't seem like he'd seen my spinout, but he was asking questions. I mostly tried to play it off as me just having a flat, nothing had happened, but he was pretty persistent. At some point my mom showed up and we started really going over the damage and the cop kept going further and further out of his way to make me say something that would have it seem like i did something illegal and I was getting really nervous.

At some point a boy showed up to watch. He seemed to be about my age, lanky, brown hair so dark it looked black, and I never got a good look at his eyes. For some reason I couldn't focus on his eyes. Either he was facing away from me, or I was looking down at his hands, or any other reason, not once would I ever be able to fully take in his eyes.

Before the cop got too much to work with, this boy started making a scene about what was under the elevated porches of two buildings on one of the lots. And I shit you not, there were two pizzas, thirty feet across, just chilling under the houses. The boy also pointed out a sign that read "Official Ninja Turtle Filming Location". The cop was successfully distracted by this, and honestly so was I. That was pretty wild, and how did I not notice that before?

After the cop left I got talking to the Boy, asking questions. I Couldn't believe there was a movie being filmed here and when I tried to look for the sign again I couldn't find it.* All the signage was just about this being a boy's home for troubled kids. The Boy just grinned and didn't comment on it. Instead he had me follow him. (the pizza, too, was gone the next time I looked)

*Dreamer's Note: I can usually go back and read things multiple times in my dreams without trouble. I never have to deal with something saying different words each time I read it, so I was very confused to experience this.

We went into the boy's home, which,,,, really should have been labeled a daycare with the age of the kids there. There was one adult, and a bunch of kids all under the age ten. The Boy produced a balloon and baby doll out of seemingly nowhere and handed them to the kids who went feral over them, much to the dismay of the adult on shift. I took pity on the poor man and got the toys back, but the ruckus had summoned one of the head staff, who demanded what we were doing there. Me and Boy lied and said we were volunteers, and our horrible lie was fully believed. We giggled and Boy grabbed my hand and we ran out with wild abandon.

We spent the day together, having fun, becoming friends, getting into trouble and not getting caught. It was dark before we started walking home. We were passing by a field of cows, still fully engrossed in conversation, although my eyes were drawn to the ground in front of me instead of looking at him. At some point I realized he wasn't beside me anymore so I stopped and looked back. He was a good ten feet away and suddenly putting on a ski mask.

I was just confused, "What are you doing???"

"Didn't you see it?" And with that he jumped the fence and ran to pull a calf out of a water trough, which I had not seen, no, because I was staring at the ground. The calf was limp and fell to the ground once pulled out, not breathing. But since it wasn't stiff it could still be alive. The Boy was fretting, but after pulling it out he wasn't doing anything super useful.

"Don't you know how to do cow CPR?!" I shouted, as if that was a normal thing to know.*

*Dreamer's Note: I irl know emergency medical protocols for farm animals because i was a farm kid and yes, this is a situation I could actually handle. (how i handled in the dream could have been better)

He gave me a look like I'd grown a second head. I only hesitated for a second before I jumped the fence to help the calf. I started talking through ways to get a heart pumping again, getting air back in the lungs, getting water out, but in the end it just needed held up and a bit of good pressure to help cough out the water and start trying to breath again. Apparently it hadn't actually been in the water very long.

We were about to celebrate our relief and success when a bright flight flashed over us and a rough voice shouted "HEY!" There was a rancher with a gun, and we were a couple kids trespassing on his property with his livestock with a coughing soaked calf next to us and one of us in a ski mask. Naturally we bolted.

It was weird, the world seemed to warp and bend and then suddenly we were in a barren empty field without any life, only hard packed dirt. The Boy was so apologetic and frantic and it took me a while to get him to calm down enough to explain.

He explained that he had powers. He didn't explain where they came from, or what he was, but he had the power to shape things around him. Such as making pizza and a sign appear, or toys, or being able to warp his form to travel very quickly. He never meant to do that to me, it was just a reflex. He had warped my body with his, making us one body for the few microseconds it took to move us away from the situation. It was just for the blink of an eye, but it was enough to alter me into being what he was. He changed me to be like him. He'd only wanted to help, to have a friend, and now he'd ruined my life.

I assured him that it was okay, nothing had been ruined. I didn't feel any different. He said that wasn't the problem. He'd been on the run from the authorities his whole life. They were trying to capture him for who knows what reason and that made it impossible to have a home, friends, .....family. And of course I still had a mom who loved me. It started to sink in that I might have to actually not be fully grasping what this meant.

We spent the summer teaching me how to use my new powers. I learned how to will things into existence, but it was hard to alter the forms of myself and other things. But we did grow very close and could easily meld our bodies into one, and when we did that it was easy for both of us to change our shape in whatever way we desired.

It was during one of our regular practices when we found the barrier. It was early evening, so the glow of the minty green field was lighting up like auroras. The Boy recognized it, the military group that was chasing him often used it to try to keep him trapped. Of course to the ordinary eye the barrier was nearly invisible, and completely intangible. But to those with powers, it was nearly impassible. See, the barrier worked with fields of light and energy, and prevented anything that didn't share its artificial pattern from passing through. And of course the agency's powered members had their patterns forcibly reformatted to match.

The Boy was very confident that we could change our patterns and slip through, but we couldn't stay here any longer. We had to get ready and leave so we weren't tracked down and captured. I.... didn't want to leave my mom, but this was all getting real very fast.

We packed light, just a single backpack for each of us. I'd been told the route beforehand, I knew the pattern I needed to have, although I was hoping to rely on us combining to be sure I could do it right. But I knew we just had to head west, reach the border, get out of range.

Everything went very wrong. When we got there, the patterns had changed and we couldn't get through, and it would take time to learn the new pattern, and we could hear the sounds of trucks and men coming our way. Luckily the Boy had a plan B.

We ran the other way, down back trails and alleys. There was a contact we could meet, an old man, who had a way to get us out of the barrier. Unfortunately the group chasing us was closing in. The Boy pushed me forward, told me to keep moving, that he'd distract them then catch up. I was scared, so I did as told. I ran until I hit a fence, then went along it until I met the contact at a break. He rushed me through and ordered me to run and hide, there wasn't time to explain.

I ducked into the grass, but when I heard the trucks pull up I was too scared to move. All I heard was a back and forth, the old man insisting that they had nothing to search for here, some stern voices, then a gunshot. The old man fell to the ground and flashlights passed over the area. There was a moment where the lights retreated and I let myself breath. But then the commanding officer paused and turned back, shined his light right over me, and began to approach. I curled in on myself as much as possible, hoping I could just disappear. The officer reached out a hand and I blacked out.

There was a specific military organization that specialized in containing powered individuals, and using these human weapons to deal with... more than normal threats. This agency was top secret, naturally.

They put me through the same process they did for every person they brought in: have me an inhibitor arm cuff so I could only use my powers in authorized ways, put me through weeks of training, both with my powers and military training, and they broke down my physical body into the basest form of my powers. Which meant instead of looking human, I now had an orange crystalline look, yet my body was pliable. Orbs had replaces my hands, feet, and even head. I was faceless. They didn't give me clothes, after all, I had nothing to cover.

When I was finally able to reunite with the Boy, he looked the same at me. After all, the same power would have the same base form. We were taken to a holding block with several other powered individuals who were all pretty jaded from living like this for so long. Many of them could no longer speak after having their forms altered, and one of them seemed to have lost his ability to reason. He specifically looked a bit like a dog sized dinosaur, a raptor of some kind, but on four legs instead of two, and he was pecking at their food tray on the ground like a bird. Another resident, a grayish green small fellow in an orange jumpsuit was chastising the dino kid for eating like an animal.

I told the little guy, and I do mean little like less than a foot tall, to lay off the kid, they couldn't help it. Well Little Guy got all up in my case demanding who I thought I was, talking to the strongest guy in the room like that when I was just a greenie.

The Boy easily took over, his endless confidence making me feel stronger as he took my hand. "Not anymore," he said, "We're the strongest." He gently tugged on my hand and I could practically read his intent through our contact. We backed up in perfect sync and sat with our backs together in a nearly mirrored confident pose as the Boy explained that our powers were limitless. We could make anything. Out of the same kind of faux light construct* that many power users could make, we could create proper material objects. And we demonstrate this together, by making a couple of round things of light, then turning them solid and tossing them over.

*A Faux Light Construct is light particles shaped into an object, but it is transparent and dissipates the moment it loses contact with the maker.

After that showing, the two of us became pretty respected. And we convinced the powered residents that we didn't have to stay as weapons, we couldn't be kept here. Together we were strong enough to escape. And we were.

It took us a long time, but we did get everything ready. We staged a prison riot that me and the Boy used as cover to break the ballistic glass. It only took a little manipulation of out arms into long powered vine-like things with hardened pointed to shoot out at the glass. We did that over and over, the spiderweb crack growing each time. Of course the director of the program noticed, but it was too late. The glass shield shattered and we all took off. Me and the Boy were the most powerful, most dangerous, most valuable of all of the others even put together, to we were the distraction. All the others were able to run to safety and get underground to care for themselves while we took to the sky. It was easy to get the inhibitors off once we got into the airfield, then we merged and took the form of one of their fastest jets and took off. The chase was close, even when we tried to give ourself more thruster power, we couldn't shake them. We had an idea though. They were hunting the strongest, fastest thing in the sky, not some dinky little farm plane that was so slow it could practically hover in a headwind.

We dove into a cloud, transformed into the shittiest plane we could imagine, made an illusion of the plane we used to be to keep our course for a while, then we headed west. Into the sunset.

And that is why we are here, little human, speaking to you now. We came to this old forest years ago, to hide among the redwood trees. These are the only ones that grow large enough to hide the size we grow to. And even then we must still trim ourself shorter frequently.

You see, we are not whole. We can't separate anymore, because something is Wrong. If we separate, we might not survive. Or at least, one of us won't. A most beloved piece of us is gone. So we stay and wait until we are whole. Until our missing piece returns.

I am the Boy. You see, I knew that a decoy plane would never work. There were ground teams watching, they would spot us even as the air team chased our illusion. So when we dropped low to the ground, I separated. Or, most of me did. I left my heart with the Girl so she wouldn't realize I was gone until she was safe. And it worked. I disguised myself as a soldier and joined their ground team, and from their I spun an illusion of the dinky plane going south. The ground team fired on it, but quickly realized something was off. I turned back and smiled when the Director realized there was One Too Many people here. I turned my illusion into projectiles, sharp and piercing, that rained down on the agency that had made my life hell, chased me for centuries, stolen my body, taken everything from the one person I could ever truly be close to... The only other person who may live as long as I will.... I am ready to sacrifice my life to at least give her freedom. I can't live away from my core forever, but I'll make damn sure I live long enough to ensure there won't be anyone left to hunt our kind ever again!

#mid dreams #short story #i have an *interesting* mind #i didn't come up with this on purpose it was literally a dream #my brain writes stories for free i just have to jot them down #its amazing #gonna make art for this later

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