#it's a little like that one post.. standing at opposite sides of the room staring at each other would be like peak intimacy to them
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I suppose I will make a Pucciboss post now. Well calling it "Pucciboss" is kind of an odd way to put it because if we took a scenario where they began to have feelings for each other I think neither of them would "date" or call what they have a romance. With Pucci it's because he's supposed to be celibate and Diavolo because he'd hate the idea of being in love with anyone- also probably neither of them could recognize when they're having romantic feelings LOL.
They are interesting in that sense because they both suppress their urges and emotions (goes into my thoughts about Diavolo being at a conflict with his human feelings and desires) but for very different reasons, Pucci because it's what he's sworn as a priest in his mission to enlighten others and Diavolo because human connection is a danger to him. But both of them have been unable to resist their urges and feelings in their pasts (Pucci after being unable to ignore the information from the confessional booth and Diavolo with his relationship to Donatella). Indeed Pucci's entire worldview is very personal emotion-based but he doesn't really realize it, and Diavolo's whole deal is driven by paranoia and fear.
Pucci and Diavolo gaining romantic feelings would be interesting to me because it means that their interaction would cause them to break down the other's barriers (kinda like how sodium and chloride cancel out each other's dangerous properties LOL). It would be most likely for them to start out instinctively hostile to each other (I think it's likely Diavolo would hold extra disdain for priests and I think Pucci would be offput if not disgusted by Diavolo) but very very slowly they come to learn about each other and subconsciously realize that they are not entirely different in terms of worldview and form a connection that way.
Basically what I'm trying to say is that I think "Pucciboss" dynamic would be them having intense philosophical discussions/arguments that would not read as romantic to anyone in any traditional way. But yet somehow it is
#rambles#diavoloposting#does this make any sense lol i know i can get incoherent when it comes to imagining romance#i really enjoy them just as much as a regular ''what if they interacted'' dynamic as i do a ship one#but i think imagining it as ''ship'' just adds something sometimes#it's a little like that one post.. standing at opposite sides of the room staring at each other would be like peak intimacy to them
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𝐄𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐄 𝐖𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐌𝐒 | thigh riding + high sex
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𝐏𝐀𝐈𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 — ellie williams x fem!reader
𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 — nsfw, wlw, thigh riding, high sex, inexperienced!reader, lotsa kissing, reader has to be quiet, ellie n reader share a joint, dina mentioned, ellie and dina are not together
𝐍𝐎𝐓𝐄𝐒 — been thinkin bout my wife lately n this came to me in a dream (i think this is genuinely the fourth (?) thigh riding high sex drabble ive written and posted can you tell im curious about a specific scenario..? 😕)
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parties were never your scene.
it didn’t matter if it was a room full of strangers or your closest friends, you could only stand them for so long before you needed to escape. much like you were doing now.
you could hear the buzz of the party underneath where you sat on your windowsill, overlooking the commune with a joint between your fingers. chatter from a few handfuls of people gathered in your family’s living room floated up from below. you didn’t even know what is was for and you didn’t need to know.
you stopped trying to remember half the blunt ago, feeling that warm fuzzy calmness beginning to kick in. the rest of it laid in your homemade ashtray, and you made a mental note to get some more from dina soon. it would be forgotten in a minute, though.
the sound of your bedroom door swinging open nearly made you fall off of the thin sill you were balancing on. for a moment you sobered up, thinking it was your parents coming to nag you about your disappearance. but you calmed when you saw who it was.
ellie williams. that girl that showed up with tommy miller’s brother a few years back. you didn’t know much about her except what dina told you. only talked to her a couple of times. enough to learn a few things about her: her name was ellie, she was a little awkward, and she liked to smoke.
“oh, i’m sorry—” ellie froze when she realized it was you and her tense demeanor softened. “what’re you doing up here?” she asked timidly, like she was testing the waters with you.
you blinked at her, then very quickly scanned the walls of your own bedroom. ellie suddenly started to backtrack, asking why you weren’t downstairs with your family. you let her, silently debating on asking her to join you. “don’t like crowds much. you?” you were talking a little faster than you could think.
ellie smiled a little and tucked her short hair behind her ear. “me neither. i was looking for the bathroom, i need a break.”
a brief, awkward silence followed before you realized she was waiting for you to invite her into your room. “oh, i’m sorry, did you wanna..?” you gestured to the tray at your side.
she questioned the sincerity behind your invitation, but nodded nonetheless. you shifted to give her space on the windowsill. your back was propped on one side of the frame and ellie was opposite you, seated on the cushioned bench just a little lower than you.
you held your lighter up to the dwindling blunt between her lips, watching her face as she took a long drag from it. she caught you staring as she blew the smoke out towards the window. “what’s up?” she cocked her head.
you shook yours. “why’d you come if you hate crowds so much?” you shifted the topic, looking at her with a teasing grin.
ellie huffed out a laugh. “i could ask you the same thing, but technically you’re hosting this one.” she joked. “joel wanted me to come. said it’d ‘do me some good to get out of my room.’ whatever that means.”
“doesn’t everyone’s parents tell them that?” you replied playfully, shaking your head when you remembered all of the times your father had told you the same thing before dragging you to a gathering. when you met ellie’s eyes, you noticed she was a little uneasy. then you remembered that joel wasn’t her father.
“shit, i’m sorry—”
“don’t worry about it. everyone thinks he’s my dad at some point.” she brushed it off, but you could tell she wanted to drop it. her eyes wandered up towards the night sky and stayed there for a while.
for a few silent minutes, she dwindled the joint down to almost nothing before you spoke up again. it wasn’t because you felt like you had to, but because you were genuinely interested in her all of a sudden.
“so how do you know dina?”
the question made ellie stumble on a hit, coughing a few times before mustering a strangled, “what?”
truthfully, you had heard from dina and a few other people that she and ellie were a bit of a thing. but that depended on how dina felt. both about her and jessie, the guy she had gotten with before ellie.
it was a complicated situation that you often heard only the tail ends of, but you found you wanted to hear ellie’s version.
part of you knew your question was personally motivated, too. it was undeniable that ellie was a beautiful woman. you remained outside of the dating scene for as long as you could, but something about ellie made you wonder about what that scene was like.
“you and dina.” you prompted once more, stealing the joint from between ellie’s fingers for a quick hit.
“ah, shit,” ellie cursed under her breath when she realized it was kicking in faster than she expected it to. “we’re friends. she’s pretty cool. aren’t you friends with her, too?” she deflected the question back onto you.
“yeah, just haven’t seen her in a minute.” you lied with a shrug. “do you like her?” you pulled one knee to your chest and tore away from her gaze, like you were scared of the answer.
ellie eyed you curiously. “did she ask you to interrogate me or something?” the girl asked you, though her words were lighthearted. you laughed softly along with her.
“no, but…” you trailed off, suddenly wondering if ellie thought you were being too weird. so you lowered your head against your knee and started pretending to stargaze. “sorry, i shouldn’t have asked.” you cursed yourself mentally. zero for two. one more and you were out.
ellie sat up and laid her hand comfortingly on your outstretched leg. “nah, it’s okay, don’t worry about it.” her fingertips drummed against your knee while she thought. “i used to like her. i’m not really sure now, but she’s a good friend. we still hang out and stuff. why do you ask?” her tone was much gentler now.
you could hardly focus with her palm on your shin. you weren’t sure if it was intentional or she hadn’t realized herself yet, but you didn’t want her to move. she caught your eye eventually and it forced you to think of something.
“i’m not sure how to tell if i like somebody. or… how to tell them, i guess. her. tell her.” part of you hoped she would understand what you were trying to say.
but instead she blinked, eyebrows furrowing as she processed the information. “i mean, i don’t know if i’m much help. it just kinda… happened back then. have you talked to her?”
“yeah, but—”
“kissed her?”
your eyes went wide at the question and your face surely flushed a deep shade of red. ellie burst out laughing, tucking your leg underneath her arm and wrapping her hand around your hip.
she was touchy when she was high. if she even was. maybe she was just comfortable around you, you thought.
“i’m kidding, you don’t look the type.”
now it was your turn to giggle, reaching forward to swat at her shoulder. “oh, and what type do i look like? jackass.” the two of you giggled, the atmosphere growing nice and comfortable.
eventually the joint died out and the two of you retreated to your bed, deciding it was getting too cold to be sitting by the window now. the party was still pretty lively downstairs and joel had yet to come searching for ellie, so you found things to talk about to pass time.
the conversation twisted and turned, but wound up to your little crush on a mystery girl. ellie was curious as to who it was, but you weren’t going to budge.
“i’ve never really kissed anybody before. maybe i am whatever type you think i am.” you mumbled, smiling at the girl laying beside you.
she didn’t quite reciprocate it, her lips parting when she registered what you said. “you’ve never kissed anybody? ever?” her shock was embarrassing to you, if not slightly demeaning.
you sheepishly shook your head. ellie propped herself onto her elbow and stared at you. “i don’t believe you.”
“what do you mean you don’t believe me,” you laughed nervously, “why would i lie about being a virgin? if anything, i would be lying about having slept with the whole town.”
ellie giggled against a genuine wince at the thought of that. “i guess you’re right, but… i dunno,” she paused, her grin stretching wider like she was debating on saying something she shouldn’t. the girl plopped back down onto your pillow. “i always thought you were too pretty to not have had your first kiss.”
silence possessed you for a long while. it felt like years ticked by in that pause, and you could feel ellie shifting nervously beside you. but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at her.
were you so high that you’d hallucinated that? or did she actually say that to you?”
“what… what do you..?” it was like your brain had been overloaded. you couldn’t form a thought or a coherent sentence.
ellie hurried to interrupt you before you could go any further. “i’m really sorry, i don’t know why i said that.” she pinched the bridge of her nose and scoffed at herself, unaware of the way you were staring at the side of her face.
“ellie.” the one word your scrambled brain allowed you to say, and it came out loud and clear. ellie froze beside you. she refused to turn, scared that you were going to kick her out or worse. “ellie, look at me.” you said, this time much softer and with a sense of urgency that gave ellie chills.
slowly, the girl turned to face you. neither of you knew what to do. you risked taking what she said the wrong way and screwing things up. she risked offending you and that crush that you had on whoever.
but, naturally, before you could process your options you had scooted up to her side and pressed your lips to hers. it was brief and chaste, but it was the spark that set everything off.
when you pulled away and registered your own actions, you went to apologize and get as far away from her as possible. but before you could get a single syllable out, ellie’s fist grasped the fabric of your t-shirt and pulled you down into another kiss.
this one was much more than the last one. you followed her skillful lead, sighing when she deepened the kiss by slipping her tongue into your mouth. you put your trembling hands against her chest, sliding them up to the base of her jaw. you swore you heard the softest moan in her throat.
you knew you needed air but you’d rather die than pull away from her at that point. all you wanted was her. it was insatiable.
her hands were planted at your hips, guiding you into her lap. your ass rested against the tops of her thighs, straddling her waist. that was when she chose to pull away, her forehead resting against yours while you caught your breath.
“not bad for your first time.” she mumbled. “you okay?”
“mhm,” you hummed shakily, already eager to kiss her again. you swore you could get high off of that alone.
but ellie’s hand pressed against your collarbone, stopping you. “easy, easy.” she grinned. “you sure you wanna keep going? you don’t have to.”
you nodded, not trusting your own voice this time.
she seemed to like this side of you. needy and completely malleable in her hands. “what do you want?” she asked softly. “i need to hear you say it.” it wasn’t meant to be cruel, but it felt that way when the embarrassment started to creep into your face.
“i…” you didn’t recognize yourself, it was like you were possessed. you’d never heard your own voice sound so timid and tiny. “i want you to make me feel good. please.”
even ellie looked stunned by your confidence, as shaky as it was. her eyes wandered towards your door. they lingered on the lock and she chewed on her bottom lip for a second.
“sit up.” she instructed. you complied without hesitation, allowing her room to peel off her grey hoodie. you weren’t sure if you were supposed to do the same until she started to untie your tiny pajama shorts. “take these off for me?”
you nodded, shifting only so you could slide them off of your legs and toss them onto your bedroom floor while she undid her jeans. but when you went to reclaim your spot in her lap, ellie guided your legs to straddle only one of her thighs, her other leg wrapped around your hip.
confused, you gave her a questioning glance. “trust me, okay?” she laid back and adjusted herself so that her thigh met your clothed pussy. the gasp you let out made her tilt her head warningly. “you’re gonna have to be quiet, think you can do that?”
right, the party. the party where many people in town were gathered in your living room per your parents’ invitation. the thought of them hearing you from all the way down there made your stomach turn.
“okay.” you whispered. you lowered yourself over her and captured her in a deep kiss, slowly getting the hang of it. her hands traced down your sides until they reached your hips. that was when she started to tense the thigh that you straddled.
you gasped sharply against her lips, though it was muffled with ellie’s tongue in your mouth. it melted into a moan when you allowed her hands to guide your body. you ground down onto her muscular thigh, the sensation foreign but one that you could certainly get used to.
it started out slow and gentle but soon you were setting the pace to fit your seemingly unending need for her. you would pull away every so often to catch your breath, and ellie would use that to latch onto your neck.
“shit, that’s it.” she mumbled breathlessly. your cries were getting a bit too loud for her comfort and she pulled you down into another messy kiss.
she could tell by the way your pace was getting sloppier that you were already close. a small part of her was flattered that she could get you this worked up. you held onto her like she’d vanish if you let go. ellie did the same, her fingers digging into your soft skin underneath your shirt.
“fuck, i…” you trailed off, biting back a particularly loud moan. “i can’t.”
“you’re okay,” ellie’s hands dropped to your hips and started guiding you. “i got you.”
your forehead rested against her collarbone while you rode out your orgasm. ellie couldn’t get enough of your soft, undeniably strained moans and whimpers while you came and she wondered what you sounded like when you weren’t holding back.
once you started to go still against her she gently nudged your forehead. “still with me?” she asked.
“fuck,” you huffed under your breath as you lifted yourself upright. “yeah, i’m still here.” you met her green eyes, still hooded with arousal. the two of you started laughing when a strange silence lingered, but you weren’t so quick to pull away.
her thumbs were still rubbing circles into your sides and you were sure she was going to kiss you again with how intensely she was staring at your swollen lips. but she resisted with a stubborn little groan.
“it’s getting late, joel’s gonna come looking for me.” she said dejectedly. rejection shone in your eyes and you hurried to get out of her lap. she caught your hand before you could get too far from her. “i have another joint at mine if you wanna come over after the party ends.”
a smile slowly spread across your lips. “i’d like that.”
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meeeeyow 😛😛 i ♥️ my beautiful wife
#kinktober 2024#kinktober#the last of us kinktober#the last of us#the last of us smut#ellie williams#ellie tlou#ellie the last of us#ellie williams smut#ellie willams x reader#ellie x reader#tlou smut
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smart - October 6th - Jegulus - @stag-microfic - word count: 665 - trans!Regulus Inspired by a reddit post that I heard about on a podcast so I don't have the original source to link it lol
"It's going well, I think," Effie whispered to Monty, who nodded at his wife, grinning.
"I like him. I have to admit, he's not what I thought he would be, though," Monty murmured, looking across the room.
It was true. James was so larger-than life and attention-grabbing; so loud and, Effie had to admit, dramatic. But Regulus, James's boyfriend who he'd finally agreed to introduce them to, was quieter. It had struck them as strange that it had taken so long, since Regulus was Sirius's little brother, and Sirius had practically been their adoptive son for years. But they didn't know a lot about Regulus. Just that he had taken longer to cut ties with Sirius's problematic family, and that their son was absolutely crazy about him.
He also seemed nervous and a bit skittish, though when he did speak, he came off as extremely smart. Though both men looked at each other with stars in their eyes, it was certainly a different match than what James's parents had been expecting.
When they interacted together, it made all the sense in the world, though. At least in Effie's opinion. They were natural opposites in the best way, and Regulus seemed to bring out the best in James. He'd never seemed happier.
"I'm going to do the dishes," she announced, standing and exiting the room, waving all of the boys off as they got up to try to help.
But as she began to get to work, the short, curly-haired man who had been glued close to James's side all night entered the kitchen, balancing a stack of plates.
"Oh, let me get those, dear!" Effie jumped over to grab the stack from Regulus's hand, eager to help.
"Thanks, Mrs. Potter," Regulus smiled softly. "The meal was wonderful. Was that thyme I tasted?"
"Oh, thank you, dear. It was! Do you cook?" she asked as they began to fall into a rhythm of washing and drying together.
"A bit. I learned a lot of family recipes as a child, and it was one of the few things my parents insisted on teaching me that I actually enjoyed," Regulus shrugged, meticulously drying a plate.
"Interesting," Effie frowned, speaking over the running water. "Did they make Sirius learn, too?" Sirius had become a permanent fixture in their household long ago, but had never mentioned learning how to cook.
Regulus just snorted softly. "No, they only made the girls learn."
It took a moment for Regulus's admission to sink in, and the dish Effie was now washing in the sink slipped from her hands as she realized. "Oh!" she said softly, her brain catching up with the conversation.
Regulus's eyes grew wide as he, too, figured out what had happened. "James and Sirius never told...?" His face, which had previously had a small smile playing on his guarded features, grew nervous and almost cold.
But Effie wasn't having that. "Regulus," she said firmly, grabbing his arm with her wet hand and refusing to allow him to turn and walk away. "It doesn't matter to us," she stated, looking the terrified man in the eye, making sure he understood she'd never been more sincere.
The gray eyes that stared back at him grew wide and watery, and he blinked a few times before nodding and letting out a shaky breath. "I- okay," he mumbled. "Sorry, I- It's just, my parents were-"
"I understand," Effie murmured, movign her hand up to squeeze his shoulder.
Nodding again, Regulus visibly relaxed, turning back to the dish he had been drying.
"It won't matter to Monty, either," Effie clarified, squeezing his shoulder again and returning to the sink. "As long as you and James love each other and you support his Quidditch team, he'll approve."
Chuckling, Regulus smiled. But after a moment, he turned to Effie, frowning. "What Quidditch team? Because James likes the Chudley Cannons and I can't even pretend to like-"
"No, he likes Puddlemere," Effie laughed, pulling him into a hug.
#marauders#harry potter#marauders era#marauders fandom#fanfic#harry potter marauders#the marauders#marauders harry potter#marauders fanfic#the marauders era#marauder era#marauders fanfiction#marauders fic#james potter x regulus black#james and regulus#poor james#james potter#james x regulus#regulus x james#regulus and james#regulus black#regulus arcturus black#james loves regulus#regulus deserved better#regulus black x james potter#jegulus#jegulus microfic#starchaser#sunseeker
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I did boy mom Abby during the fall so you know I had to write some domestic fluff for Ellie too 🫶🏻🎃🍂
let’s ignore that I’m posting this less than an hour before Halloween is over 🥸
"Mama no! That's Rex's chair!"
"Well I don't see his name on it." The soft thud of the stuffed animal hitting the carpet is followed by the stomp of a tiny foot.
"Mama!"
You lower the volume on the halloween music playing on the tv, watching your wife get locked in stare down with a mini version of herself. Margo's legs wobble on unsteady plastic heels and the pink material of her dress wrinkles as she places her hands on her hips. Ellie had managed to squeeze herself into one of the bigger dresses in your daughter's closet, the thing looking like it was about to bust at the seams whenever she moved. Her tiara lopsided as it slowly slips off her head.
From the color of their hair to the slope of their noses, it was actually scary how alike they looked at the moment. Their profiles damn near identical.
The two stare at each other from opposite sides of the coffee table where a "spooky" tea party was being held with hot chocolate and Halloween cookies. Action figures and stuffed animals line the sides, with the newest addition to your little family sitting at the head of the table. Your seven month old son, Theo, sits in his infant chair watching the drama unfold as he chewed on a yogurt puff. His little body swallowed up by the tulle of his dress, with a sparkly clip in his short hair. Neither you nor Ellie able to save him from the older sister effect.
"He's a stuffie, he can't even eat the cookie." Ellie says matter of factly, reaching over to fix the girl's tiara.
The four year old's eyes shift from Rex's spot to her own empty plate, nodding in understanding. "Get more from mommy." she whispers loudly, pointing to where you stand at the counter with a fresh batch. Their eyes widen at the sight of the tray in front of you.
Ellie has a full blown one sided conversation with the infant in her arms, stopping at the large window facing your backyard. She points out the swing set under the large tree in the far right corner.
"Pretty soon you'll be out there with mama and margo having competitions on who can swing the highest." She bounces the infant on her hip.
"Mama cheats." Margo pipes up from the living room.
"I do not!"
Ellie jumps to defend herself, launching into story after story about the times she's lost to the four year old. Theo watches her in fascination, his eyes glued to Ellie's face. Your wife never stopped talking, and you swear it's the reason Margo's vocabulary is as good as it is.
You pretend to ignore Ellie as she saunters over to where you stand at the kitchen island. Her front presses up against your back, lips pressing against your bare shoulder as she reaches for the cookies. "Don't mind if I do."
"I do mind, actually." You push her away. "Dinner's almost ready."
"Oh c'mon just one more."
"You said that like five cookies ago Els." Taking the baby from her arms, you move the tray further away from her grabby hands.
She pouts. "So you hate me."
"Oh, shut up." You roll your eyes, pulling her in for a kiss. "How about you two go wash up and you can have one more AFTER dinner." The little hand reaching for the tray pauses, slowly retreating when you pull it further away. Ellie snorts as the culprit click clacks back towards the couch.
The doorbell rings, pulling your attention away from the kitchen. Ellie moves to stir the soup currently simmering in the pot, ignoring your warning look.
"Babe, did you order something?" You question, staring at the large plastic bag on your front porch. The logo didn't look familiar, her name is on the label when you squint.
"Oh, yeah! This wasn't supposed to come until next week." The package is snatched from your hands, a flash of pink and purple fly past you and down the hallway. Your two dogs manage to slip in the room just before the door slams shut.
"We're the only sane ones here bub." You turn back towards the kitchen, undressing the infant and placing him in his high chair. He babbles happily while you clean up the mess on the counter.
It's then that you notice the two cookies missing from the tray. Your wife and daughter's muffled giggles reach your ears.
"Ellie!"
———
"Okay oneeee more for Grandpa Joel."
"No more." Margo pouts "Papa has lots of pictures already."
The three of you wait impatiently as Ellie props her phone up against one of the steps on your front porch. She rushes back to where you stand as the timer counts down. Her hand reaches down to adjust the dog's dinosaur costume, the hood covering his eyes.
Theo sits happily in the wagon your wife had spent the last week turning into a little cage. His little green dinosaur costume just thick enough to keep him warm from the chilly weather.
You quickly make sure your pink button up is tucked properly into your shorts. Ellie gives you a grateful look when you push the hair out of her face. The two of you smiling just as the timer goes off, praying that the kids were looking.
Your wife had insisted on picking out the theme for Halloween this year. Knowing she had at least one year left before your already opinionated daughter decided she wanted to pick out her own halloween costume. With how busy you'd been at work you happily let her take charge.
And that's how you ended up wrangling a family of dinosaurs out the door.
"Let's go!"
You bite your lip when your daughter wobbles in her inflatable dinosaur costume, the head throwing her off balance. Her little hand reaches for Ellie's, dragging her down the driveway and out into the throng of people already out trick or treating. Pink plastic pumpkin swinging at her side.
The four of you make your way through the neighborhood, you and Ellie taking turns walking the kids up to knock on doors.
Like most four year olds, Margo gets tired after a couple of streets. Her plastic pumpkin now full of candy. Theo snoozes away in his wagon, checks rosy from the cold.
"Last house?" You point at the tiny craftsman at the end of the street.
Ellie gives you a thumbs up and follows after Margo as she hobbles up the path towards the front porch.
“Well aren’t you two the cutest.” The elderly woman sitting on one of the steps gushes. “Matching costumes!”
She reaches into the big yellow bowl, pulling out a full size candy that has the little girl’s tired eyes widening.
"A big candy! Thank you!" She clutches it in her tiny fist, rushing back to where you stood on the sidewalk.
The elderly woman laughs at the way her costume wobbles as she runs down. "Is that your family?" She asks pointing to where you stand.
"It is." Ellie smiles.
"They're so cute." She gushes, patting her arm. "You're very lucky."
Ellie watches you gently pry the melting chocolate from your daughter’s grasp, putting it in her overflowing bucket. Theo now perched on your hip, a big gummy smile on his face at the sound of his big sister’s voice as she bounces around dancing to the loud music coming from down the street. The two dogs swore she didn’t want sat at your sides.
Ellie’s heart warmed at the sight. Her smile widens.
"Yeah, I am."
—
"Margo's finally down." You sink down into the spot next to Ellie on the couch with a sigh. A hand reaches into the plastic bag on her lap where you'd dumped all the candy, digging around for the full size candy bar from earlier. Your wife searches for a movie to watch, clicking through multiple streaming apps.
"Told you we shouldn't have let her have that second lollipop before bed." She mumbles through a mouthful of chocolate. Her eyes glued to the tv. You stretch out on the couch, legs thrown over her lap.
"Nothing scary." You remind her. "Don't need you waking me up to walk you to the bathroom at 3 AM again."
"That was ONE time!" Ellie scoffs, but quickly exits the horror section. She sprawls out on top of you, her head resting on your chest.
“No cartoons either.” You press a quick kiss to her hair. “Get enough of that with the kids.”
You settle on Hocus Pocus after ten minutes of bickering only for the two of you to end up asleep only fifteen minutes into the movie.
#ellie williams x reader#ellie williams fluff#ellie williams x female reader#ellie x you#ellie tlou#ellie x fem reader
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ㅤ ㅤ— 🎀 apparently i can’t get enough of meanish lawyer!abby ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤ ㅤhighly inspired by this post.
mean lawyer!abby who refuses to touch you or do anything that you pleaded for her to do simply because you’re acting out and being a brat while she’s trying to finish up some stuff for a case she was currently working on. Instead, she just sits there, looking at you unamused as you prance around your shared apartment in nothing but the thinnest pair of panties that you own— could find, and one of her white button-ups. huffing and sighing every time you walk back into the living room.
“babe, i love you, so much, but can you please stop huffing, i’m trying to work” abby muttered. eyebrows pinched together, and her glasses slid down the bridge of her nose. “just 10 more minutes, is all i ask for”
“you said 10 more minutes, 15 minutes ago” you grumbled under your breath. practically throwing your body onto the couch and kicking your feet up on the coffee table. “i can wait another 10 minutes i’m sure” you scoffed. picking at your nails with a shrug.
you were too busy staring off at the black screen of the TV to notice the way her jaw clenched and uncleaned. the way her eyebrow rose at your remark, and the way she shook her head at yout attitude. “i told you—”
“and i told you i would wait” you couldn’t help but cut her off with a scoff that had her holding her breath. “simple”
“and i wasn’t done talking”
you gulped down the bratty remarks that clawed at your throat and threatened to spill at the sound of her voice and when the sound of the floorboard creaking beneath her foot rang through your ears and it was then that you finally noticed she was standing on the opposite side of the coffee table, staring at you with a hard glare. a few of her buttons undone, loose strands of hair flying in different directions, and those cute glasses of hers no longer on her face. she looked annoyed but so tired at the same time the longer she watched you. “abby—” you whispered, sinking your teeth into your lower lip.
“i do not want to hear another word coming out that mouth, do you understand?” she growled lowly. blue eyes piercing through yours as her chest rises up and down with each breath she takes. “i have a little work to finish, so give me 10 minutes, and then i am all yours—”
you just had to run your mouth again. cutting her off with a sigh. “but you promised we would watch this new show—”
abby had somehow maneuvered herself from the other side of the table until she stood right in front of you. shivers ran down your spine when she crouched in front of you slowly, her pants creasing as she moved, and your eyes gazed upwards so damn slow until they met hers. still looking at you angrily. “try that again” she was still able to stay calm. “c’mon, you want to be a brat, so use your fuckin’ words” she scoffed, jaw clenching.
“i’m sorry—”
shaking her head slowly, like she couldn’t believe you dared to apologize now when you knew you were in trouble for your attitude problem. your eyes widening quickly while your lips part once she curls her finger around your chin, pulling your face closer to hers hard enough to have you gasping. “yeah baby? now you wanna be sorry?” she questioned. nodding her head with a click of her tongue. “i don’t think you are, you just love to run that fuckin’ mouth of yours whenever you can, huh?”
looking up at her with wide eyes, she has the audacity to chuckle when she spots the tears welling up. “you cryin’ baby?” she mumbled. squeezing your cheeks together with one hand while the other wipes the one that threatens to fall. “what happened to my good girl, hm?”
“just wanted to spend time with you” you mumbled truthfully. your thighs clench together tightly when her grip on your jaw tightens. the feeling has you holding back a whine when she just hums, nodding like she was listening but was more focused on the way a tear droplet falls down your cheek. “i am sorry”
abby leans her face closer to yours. so close that her breath is clashing with yours and she can see your pupils are so dilated because of her actions and the way she was touching you. chuckling softly, she tilts your head back, rising to her normal height, and the sight has you finally whining quietly in your spot. “keep up this attitude and we’ll see where it gets you” she mumbled. squishing your cheeks together a final time before licking her lips. “because as much as you love it, i would hate to bend you over my knee and make sure you can’t sit down for a week because you keep being a fuckin’ brat” she grinned wickedly.
safe to say, you waited the whole 10 extra minutes.
#lawyer!abby#abby anderson#abby anderson x reader#abby anderson x you#abby anderson drabble#abby anderson smut#abby anderson tlou2#abby the last of us
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Much Ado About Nothing (Act III, Scene I: The Fake Dating)
It doesn’t occur to you how serious the situation has become until you're forced to sign your fake relationship on paper.
Part warning: none, this might be the slowest burn I have ever written Words: 2.4k A/n: The original plan was to update this series twice a week, but I overestimated myself, so I will be posting each Thursday around this time. I hope you understand <3
SERIES MASTERLIST | MAIN MASTERLIST
Spencer wasn’t sure how he would go through with this. The idea seemed simple enough on the surface—pretend to date, fool everyone, and finally find peace. Yet, the more he thought about it, the more complex it became, and the more complicated it was, the more crazy it seemed.
This was not what he had signed up for when he joined the BAU. Chasing criminals? Sure. Analyzing behavioral patterns? Absolutely. But pretending to date you to avoid the relentless meddling from his friends? Insane wasn't a strong enough word for it. It was ludicrous.
And even that word wasn’t enough. It was downright preposterous. How had rational, analytical work turned into this bizarre social experiment? Yet, here he was, ready to play his part even when he couldn’t ignore the absurdity of it all.
“Well, well, well.” Spencer looked up to see you walking from the opposite direction, both of you stopping right at the entrance of the bureau’s expansive building. “If it isn’t my new boyfriend.”
He narrowed his eyes. Why did you seem… so normal about this? Weren’t you the one who hated his guts? Weren’t you the one who avoided him every time you had the chance? Were you really that desperate to get the team off your back?
“What? You’re not going to greet your girlfriend?”
He forced a smile, trying to hide his irritation. “Good morning,” he replied curtly, opening the door for you.
You walked past him, and Spencer tried not to stare at you, but it was impossible to ignore the way your hair shone under the morning sun or how your perfume subtly filled the air as you brushed by him. He cleared his throat and followed you inside, wondering how long he could keep up this act without losing his sanity.
“We need some ground rules,” he muttered, nodding towards security as you both passed through the entrance.
You raised an eyebrow. “Ground rules? You mean besides pretending to be madly in love?”
“We are not in love. We just started dating,” Spencer said, pressing the elevator button. “So no spontaneous public displays of affection. We don’t want to overdo it.”
“What’s your definition of overdoing it?”
Spencer waited until the elevator doors slid shut, giving you a little privacy. "No touching. Especially no hand-holding," he stated firmly.
You scoffed. "Who on earth wouldn't want to hold their girlfriend's hand?"
He replied without missing a beat. "Do you know how many germs are transferred when you hold hands? An average of 3,000 bacteria from 150 different species, not to mention the potential viruses.”
“Wow, remind me to never shake hands with you during flu season.”
He shrugged. “I’m just stating the facts.”
“Okay, germaphobe,” you deadpanned, leaning back against the elevator wall. “What’s acceptable then? A nod from across the room? Morse code blinking?”
He considered for a moment, then offered a compromise, “How about an arm around your shoulder when we’re sitting? Or a quick side hug?”
“Side hug,” you echoed, mockingly horrified. “How romantic. Our friends will believe we’re madly in love for sure.”
“We are not in love.”
“So you’ve mentioned,” you replied dryly, standing straight again and turning toward him. “Can we at least try to look like a couple who actually like each other?”
That was the problem. You both didn’t like each other. “Fine,” he sighed. “What do you suggest?”
You paused, considering the best way to make this look believable. “How about you hold onto my waist from behind as we walk? It’s a common gesture, and it looks natural.”
Spencer blinked, taken aback by the suggestion. “Hold your waist? As in, really close?”
“Yes, Reid, that’s generally where the waist is located.”
He frowned at you. “That sounds a bit too… personal, don’t you think?”
“Isn’t that the whole point? To convince them we’re a couple?”
He hesitated, the image of his hands on your waist flashing through his mind. He suddenly imagined the warmth of your body against his, the subtle, pleasant scent of your perfume enveloping him. He could almost feel the way you’d be tucked right to his side, your height fitting perfectly against him, your head nestled just below his chin.
His heart unexpectedly started to race. The idea of holding you that close, feeling the rise and fall of your breath, the slight brush of your hair against his cheek—it was almost too intimate, too real. And he didn’t want to acknowledge that. He wasn’t sure if he could trust himself to play the role convincingly without his emotions betraying him.
“Reid?”
Spencer snapped out of his thoughts, realizing he had been silent for too long. You were watching him impatiently.
“You know what? Do whatever you want.” You turned away, facing the elevator door, clearly frustrated by his hesitation. “Just stand there like a statue for all I care.”
His eyes slowly fell to your waist, considering his options... Maybe it wasn’t that bad. The idea of his hand resting there, guiding you, didn’t seem as unbearable as he initially imagined. The gesture seemed innocent enough. Not too much, not too little. What could possibly go wrong?
Everything, apparently. Because it happened all at once.
One, he reached his hand toward you.
Two, the elevator door swung open.
And three, as you started to move forward, his hand managed to slip before it landed onto your ass.
You shrieked at the top of your lungs.
"Reid!"
Spencer's face turned red as he quickly retrieved his hand, stammering, "I-I'm sorry! That wasn't—"
But he wasn’t fast enough, because standing on the other side of the elevator door was Derek, witnessing the whole thing. His eyebrows shot up, and a slow grin spread across his face.
"What do we have here?” Derek drawled, crossing his arms. "Spencer Reid, getting a little too friendly?"
Spencer's mortification deepened as he tried to explain, "It's not what it looks like, I swear!"
Derek chuckled, shaking his head. "Sure, pretty boy. Whatever you say." He stepped to the side. “Well, aren’t you two lovebirds going to get to work?”
Trying to recover from the embarrassment, Spencer nodded quickly, his face still burning. He guided you out of the elevator with a brief, cautious touch on your back that stayed strictly in the safe zone.
You both hurried toward the glass doors, leaving Derek laughing behind you. You slightly leaned closer to him. “I could sue you for sexual harassment, you know.”
“It was an accident! You moved too quickly.”
“Sure, blame it on me,” you retorted, your voice dripping with sarcasm as you pushed through the glass doors ahead of him.
Spencer quickened his pace to keep up, matching your brisk walk. “I am blaming it on you. This wouldn’t have happened if you hadn’t suddenly decided to move forward.”
“Right, because clearly, I should have anticipated your clumsiness.”
He shot you a sideways glance. “My clumsiness? You’re the one who—”
“There you are!”
You both turned to see JJ walking toward you, a knowing smile playing on her lips. “Hotch is looking for you.”
You started to walk away. “Sure, I’ll go see him—”
JJ shook her head, her smile widening. “No, you don’t understand. He’s looking for you,” she pointed a finger at Spencer, then swung it back to you, “And you. Both of you, together.”
Spencer raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. “Both of us? Why?"
“Something about filling in paperwork?”
He frowned, but as the implication of Hotch calling you both at the same time for paperwork sank in, he snapped his head toward you, his eyes wide with realization. You turned toward him at the same moment, and the gravity of your seemingly innocent lie spiraled down on him, making the whole situation feel alarmingly real.
The weight of it pressed on Spencer’s chest. How could he possibly forget about the most important thing in all of this? He had an eidetic memory, he was good at recalling even the smallest details, but how could he not remember the need to officially disclose workplace relationships?
The reality of potentially signing official documents to confirm this fake relationship made his palms sweat.
“This is stupid,” you whispered when JJ finally left the two of you. “Maybe we should think this through.”
Spencer looked down at you. You were right, this was stupid. It was getting out of hand. But as he noticed the way you stared up at him, with your wide, doe-like eyes sparkling under the light, something shifted. This whole lie had started as a means to an end, a way to fend off the relentless teasing. But now, standing there with you, it felt like more than just a plan. Maybe it was the thrill of the unknown, or the strange comfort of the lie. Maybe it wasn’t just about fooling the team.
Maybe he was starting to fool himself too.
Spencer took a deep breath. “No,” he said softly, more to himself than to you. “We started this, we should go through with it.”
Before you could respond, he placed his hand on your lower back, feeling the warmth of your body through the thin fabric of your blouse before his palm slid over to your waist. Your eyes widened in surprise at the sudden gesture, but you didn't pull away.
What have you done?
You couldn’t believe you had actually signed the papers. The weight of the pen felt so heavy in your hand, the ink seeming to dry slower than usual as you scrawled your name on the dotted line. This was supposed to be a simple, harmless plan, but now it was documented. Official.
How did it come to this?
You watched as Spencer took the pen from you, his hand brushing yours momentarily. He glanced at you before turning his attention back to the document. The hesitation was brief, but you saw it—the flicker of doubt before he pressed the pen on to the paper and signed his name next to yours.
What the hell are we doing?
“Alright,” Hotch said, taking the papers and giving you both a nod. “This is a bit formal, but it’s necessary under bureau policy. If there are any changes in your relationship status, you should report immediately.”
You nodded, barely hearing his words over the pounding of your heart.
“Again, congratulations.”
Your stomach churned. You were going to be sick.
“Thank you,” Spencer responded. Hotch then dismissed you both, and as you turned to leave, Spencer's hand gently touched your back. You were the one who urged him to act his part, but it felt too intimate, too real at that moment. You quickly increased your pace, putting some distance between you as you walked down into the bullpen.
Penelope was sitting on your chair, chatting animatedly with the rest of the team in the open space. She looked up when you both arrived. “Well, look who’s back!” Penelope called out. “How did it go?"
You weren't surprised everyone understood what being called in, together at that, by Hotch implied.
“It went… as expected,” you replied, forcing a smile. Spencer stood a bit awkwardly beside you, his usual composure slightly ruffled.
"This is amazing,” Penelope sighed. "Oh! you know what we should do?"
You eyed her warily. "What?"
"This totally calls for a celebration!"
Your eyes widened. "Let's not—"
"Are you guys free this weekend?" Penelope turned toward the rest of the team.
Derek leaned back in his chair with a wide grin. "You know I'm always up for a party."
Spencer looked between you and the rest of the team, clearly uncomfortable. "I don't think that’s necessary—"
"He's right, Spencer isn't much of a party freak," JJ chimed in, joining in the conversation from her desk. "We should do something more relaxing."
"No, that's not what I meant—"
"You know what we haven't done in a while?" Emily asked, walking closer with a thoughtful look before she settled onto your desk, leaning slightly against it. "We haven't gone to the pool lately."
Penelope perked up at the idea. "Rossi's villa?"
Emily confirmed her with a nod. "Rossi's villa. He’s always saying we should use it more anyway.”
At any given chance, you would jump at the idea. You loved relaxing by the pool. You loved basking under the sun with a cool drink in your hand, the smell of chlorine in the air, and the refreshing splash of water on your skin. And Rossi’s pool was the perfect place for that.
It was a villa located an hour’s drive away that seemed more suited to a resort than a private residence. It was far from the city, mostly unoccupied, but always welcoming. You had been there before, stayed overnight there too, and all those fun memories were still vivid in your mind. You even recalled the time Emily was caught skinny dipping at night. Or the time Derek kicked Spencer out of the pool after realizing he had been hustling him at basketball the week before.
It had been fun then, but the more you reflected on those memories, the deeper your frown became. They had happened way before everything fell apart, before the tension had strained your friendship. It was a time when everything felt simpler, when Spencer was one of your closest friends. And now, ironically, he was your boyfriend.
Fake boyfriend.
"So it's settled, then?" Penelope’s voice broke through your thoughts, snapping you back to the present.
Honestly, you didn’t want to go. How were you even going to pull this off? A weekend by the pool, while usually the perfect highlight for your summer, now felt like walking into a scripted play where your every gesture would be scrutinized. Not just by anyone, but by skilled profilers who could sniff out a lie like a shark smells blood in the water.
The fear of being exposed, of embarrassing yourself—or worse, damaging your career—was gnawing at you. It made you increasingly anxious. Yet backing out wasn’t an option either. It would raise too many questions and invite too much speculation.
So you closed the distance between you and Spencer and linked your arm through his, ignoring the slight panic in his eyes. “Sure,” you said, turning to Penelope as you mustered a smile. “Sounds fun.”
Penelope beamed at you. Spencer, on the other hand, felt the exact opposite. The idea of spending an entire weekend pretending to be in a relationship filled him with dread.
And he couldn’t shake the feeling that everything was bound to go wrong.
#much ado about nothing#gifwriting#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid series#spencer reid fanfic#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fic#spencer reid x fem!reader smut#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid x fanfiction#criminal minds fanfic#spencer reid x self insert#spencer reid smut#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#spencer reid fanfiction
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omg pls write more of what you just posted of rafe with that age gap it's sooo hot 😭 like something about the reader being bratty on purpose and sassing him
cw: dark!rafe x younger!reader, 29 and 19, non-con/rape, drug use, intoxicated reader, talks of free use and public sex, abusive relationship
note: is this too dark, yes or no
rafe HATES when you disobey at parties. ever since you two have started dating, you have a bad habit of misbehaving at parties to get more attention from rafe. whether that be overdrinking, snorting coke, smoking weed, or flirting with other guys. all of these being things that you KNOW rafe disapproves of.
tonight, it happened to be a mix of all of them. you went to the restroom and came back to rafe talking with one of his ex girlfriends, sofia. you completely being oblivious to the fact that he was telling her off. you huff and head back into the room where topper and kelce sit.
they're doing lines and drinking, sitting on opposite sides of a loveseat.
"hey, y/n, have a seat," topper politely greets you, gesturing to an empty chair beside the loveseat but you smile and sit inbetween topper and kelce. they give eachother a look but say nothing.
"whatcha guys doin?" you ask, looking over toppers shoulder as he sets up a line.
"coke, nothing you should concern yourself with."
"yeah rafe would kill us if he knew you were anywhere near this," kelce comments.
"hes too busy bein up sofia's pussy to care. can i do a line?"
kelce and topper both look at you at this comment, a little shocked. they knew rafe and how loyal he was to you, he never even so much as entertained another girl.
"you saw him up her pussy?" kelce asks, confused.
"well no but- it doesnt even matter, just let me do a line."
"sweetheart i dont think-" topper starts.
"pleaseeeeee?" you beg, giving him puppy eyes.
topper sighs and glances to kelce who shrugs. eventually topper responds, "okay fine, sweetie, but you cannot tell rafe."
"i won't, promise! ill even pinky promise if you want!"
topper stares at you for a moment, finding your innocence both endearing and hot at the same time. too bad you aren't his. topper sets up a line for you and gently guides you onto your knees in front of the table. he gives you the dollar bill and guides you as you snort it. you let it sit for a minute, not feeling anything, then it hits. and you want more.
"again!" you say, looking at topper, feeling your brain begin to buzz.
"yeah no i don't-"
"what the fuck are you doing?"
your eyes shoot to the doorway. rafe stands there, arms crossed, hair messy, blood on his knuckles, and he looks pissed.
"rafey!" you greet him, trying to pretend you didn't just snort cocaine. you stand up, swaying, and subsequently falling back onto the couch.
"what the fuck guys?" rafe questions, walking over to you. he looks pissed, "how much did you give her?"
"just a line, man, she asked for it. quite literally," kelce speaks first and topper agrees.
"i didn't know you don't let her do that man, im sorry-" topper defends himself and rafe shakes his head, calming down a bit.
"nah you're good, man. it's her fault. come on, princess, we have some business to discuss." rafe says through gritted teeth, roughly grabbing your arm and heading to his room. once you're upstairs and away from people, he starts scolding you, "what the fuck were you thinking? you know so much better than that."
"you were talking to Sof-"
"yeah i was telling her to go suck a fucking dick. then i beat the shit out of her boyfriend for calling you a whore. but maybe he was right, you don't think about anyone but yourself, huh? always just assuming. saw the way you were staring at top." rafe speaks with no sympathy and you two slip into his bedroom. he presses you down onto the bed, holding your hands behind your back as he flips your little skirt up, "no panties? you fucking serious? god what is wrong with you? you stupid little whore."
you hear his belt unbuckle and your head continues buzzing from your high. soon enough, you feel his cock, pushing into you. it's immediately too much.
"rafe-! no no no-"
"don't tell me fucking no, bitch. act like a whore, get treated like one. maybe i should've just fucked you downstairs," rafe starts, setting a fast pace with his thrusts, not hearing any of your protests, "or maybe i should tie you up down there, let all these drunk men use your holes since you wanna disobey. i think that's a fair punishment, huh? i try to be nice and defend your honor and you make eyes at two of my best friends. fucking bitch."
"rafe i didn't- i don't want this- stop!" you beg but rafe doesn't care. he simply tugs your hair in response as you start crying. your head is pounding and it's all too much.
"that's it, cry for it, bitch. this is my fucking pussy and i'm gonna use it when i want. now whine one more time and i'm gonna make this pussy free use to the entire island."
you whimper and stay quiet in response. you think about leaving rafe, but you can't, you love him and maybe you even secretly loved being fucked against your will.
#obx#outerbanks#rafe cameron#rafe cameron smut#rafe cameron x reader#rafe cameron oneshots#rafe obx#rafe cameron thirst
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Bed time with Gotham villans
I haven’t posted anything recently and thought in light of 2023 coming to a start I’d post something for the new year even though we’re 6 months into it :3
I apologize in advance for both grammatical errors and spelling errors:)
Oswald Cobblepot
I can imagine oswald being a very wild sleeper. Like the kind that can go to sleep on the opposite side of the bed and end up with their leg over you with their arms wrapped around you
Probably has alot of night terrors specially about his mom and dad. Loud random screams in the middle of the night will be a common occurrence for you
Goes to sleep in a full pajama set with night cap and slippers:)
Blanket hog all the way, constantly kicking you in the back, cuddling into you, ect.
Though he's probably not the best to sleep with hes definitely got the nicest bed. Like im talking king sized with silk pillow cases, and sheets with a ridiculous thread count
I imagine him having some long ass night routine or some weird night ritual he follows before bed
He's the last to get into bed and the first to fall asleep
Likes a warm glass of milk (or a lukewarm glass of alcohol) before bed because he's old fashioned
Refuses to go to sleep without you and will wait till the early hours of the morning and late hours of night for you to come to bed
Edward Nygma (pre-riddler)
Ed unsurprisingly is very pleasant to sleep with
He’s not a very calm sleeper but he isn't like incredibly wild either. Maybe a arm or leg thrown over the edge of the bed but thats about it
Has the occasional night terrors but besides that is otherwise peaceful
Sleeps in relatively normal sleep attire. Plain shirt with pajama pants mostly
Really basic white male night time routine. shower, brush teeth, wash face and head to bed
He has a decent sleep schedule with only the occasional sleep insomnia
Likes to spend a little time playing video games or solving puzzles before bed
Edward Nygma (post-riddler)
Sleeps a lot less then pre-riddler ed
When he does sleep it’s only for a few hours and tends to have nightmares in between periods of rest
He’s not one to initiate cuddling during bed time but he won’t stop you from cuddling up next him
Will at times sleep on the couch or wherever he ends up falling asleep. Mostly up to you to make sure he gets a healthy amount of rest
Over thinks greatly before bed and ends up circling the room on a tangent or whenever an idea strikes
Sometimes breaks into your apartment just to sleep next to you or will show up and pass out on your couch
Talks and mumbles in his sleep
Victor Zsasz
Victor rarely sleeps but will lay in bed just to be next to you for a few hours before his next job
Sleeps in mostly just boxers since he takes a shower directly before he goes to bed but on off days he’ll throw on a t-shirt and lay in bed with you
Calm sleeper surprisingly
It takes a specific type of man to be able to kill someone then come home and sleep peacefully
He’s a quiet sleeper which is also why he makes such a god assassin as noise suppression is a huge part of his job
You always fall asleep first and he likes to just stare at you for long periods of time
Half drunken water bottles and glasses on the night stand at all times
I feel like he would have some kind of lengthy skin care routine before bed
Likes cuddling especially if he’s the little spoon
Wakes up at ungodly early hours of the morning
Blanket hog but just to be annoying and so that way you’ll sleep closer to him
Only really sleeps if you’re sleeping with him as he doesn’t really sleep as much as most people and probably only rests his eyes for a few hours at a time
Jervis Tetch
Jervis is very affectionate when it comes to bed time. He loves cuddling, holding you, kissing you ect.
I imagine his bed is incredibly comfortable with many multi-colored and textured throws, quilts, and blankets covering the bed. Probably decorative pillows as well in many colors and shapes
Full pajama sleep attire. Button up sleep shirt, pants, slippers, and a night hat similar to Oswald
He likes reading to you or being read bedtime stories. His current favorite (aside from obviously alice in wonderland) is the wizard of Oz
A warm glass of milk or tea before bed is essential and he always makes some before bed
Jervis is a bit of a wild sleeper but for the most part stays in one spot on the bed only kneeing you a few times and stirring in his sleep
He runs warm so he doesn’t take up a whole lot of blanket but during the summer he ends up drenched in sweat blanket or not
Wild bed head since his curls are hard to tame at times
Stays up late so he falls asleep first since he’s always exhausted and sleep deprived
Wokenup in a cold sweat a few times from the occasional nightmares relating to his sister but all he needs is you to pull him back into reality
Talks to you until he falls asleep to help him get some energy out and clear his mind. He talks to you about anything and everything until he begins to drift off
Jerome Valeska
Jerome is an incredibly wild sleeper. So much so to the point where no matter what position or side of the bed he’s on he’ll end up on the opposite side in a completely different position
Throws the blanket off and on going from hogging it to throwing it on the floor
He runs hot so his sleep attire is mostly him without a shirt and a pair of tattered pajama pants or just boxers
He doesn’t really have a night time routine to speak of or a steady schedule
Normally it’s just whenever he’s tired and wherever he’s at that determine what his sleep is going to be like and how long it lasts
He’s a big cuddler at first but because he’s such a wild sleeper he’ll probably end up letting go of you and turning to the opposite side of the bed
He’ll wake up in a bad mood if he’s not sleeping with you next to him or in his arms in the morning tho even if it’s entirely his fault
He’s a brat so it takes forever to coax him into going to bed. Plus he’s stubborn so even when you get him into bed he’ll do everything in his power to annoy you or to not fall asleep
He talks a lot in his sleep normally it’s laughter or it’s him mumbling on about his mother and the trauma he received
He has nightmares but they don’t wake him up only increase his tossing and turning and sleep talk
I feel like he sleep walks at times when he’s not knocked completely out and I can image you’ve had to bring him back to bed a few times
#victor zsasz x reader#oswald cobblepot x reader#edward nygma x reader#the riddler x reader#the riddler#edward nygma#gotham#the penguin#the penguin x reader#jervis tetch x reader#jervis tetch#oswald cobblepot#jerome valeska#jerome valeska x reader
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Heyy I saw ur post asking for asks and I absolutely love ur writing + I’ve had such bad Tim brainrot so I was wondering if you could write smt abt Tim just like gradually moving into the readers home and sort of like coparenting the readers cat
Tysm if you chose to write this 🙏🏽🙏🏽
A/N: Yes I can absolutely write this for you nonny! I hope you don’t mind too much but i changed the cat to a dog because I am HORRIBLY allergic to cats and if I have to suffer my readers also must. In actuality tho I just have spent very little time around them over the years and have no clue how to realistically write owning a cat.
Tim Drake x fem!reader
Content Warnings: Reader is described as wearing makeup, canon typical injuries (Tim gets hurt on patrol), reader is described as taking care of Tim’s injuries, reader has a period, reader gets sick from her period, brief description of throwing up, reader has very painful cramps, reader takes typical cramp relieving medication (ibuprofen)
————
You thanked who ever was up there that Tim and your dog got along the first time you introduced them. You hadn’t planned on doing it today, but Tim had arrived early and you weren’t going to make him wait outside simply because your dog might be territorial.
You stand nervously by Tim’s side as he reaches his hand down for your German Shepherd, Ares, to sniff carefully. He takes a few moments after smelling Tim to eye him warily before letting out a dramatic huff and retreating to his spot on the sofa to stare Tim down.
You give Tim a chaste kiss on the cheek in relief before retreating to your bedroom to finish getting ready, “Make yourself at home Tim, I’ll be ready in just a few minutes!” You call over your shoulder as you close your door.
After you had finished your makeup and threw your wallet and a few other necessities into your bag in a rush you exit your room and just before you can call out to Tim to let him know that you’re now ready you see him seated on the opposite side of the couch from Ares.
Well, maybe saying they got along was a bit of a lie. They weren’t truly getting along so much as Ares wasn’t trying to fight Tim, and was even letting him sit near him. A miracle for your reactive dog.
“Tim?” You call out gently, not wanting to break the moment too harshly. At the sound of your voice Ares gets up and runs to your side like you were returning from war. You lean down to scratch in-between his ears as Tim approaches you much more calmly, a gentle smile on his face.
“You look amazing babe.” He mummers softly, leaning forward to kiss you gently, Ares whining in contempt at your attention being stolen.
“You ready to go?” You prompt gently, at Tim’s nod you take his hand and lead him toward the door, Ares right on your heels, whining like you were committing a most horrible crime.
As you exit your apartment and nudge Ares’ snout inside from where he was trying to follow you, you’re taken aback when suddenly Tim reaches forward and gently pats Ares on the top of the head, mumbling a soft “I’ll bring her back soon buddy.”
To your shock Ares doesn’t seem to mind the gesture, and as you finally get your front door closed and move to leave your apartment building your mind keeps drifting back to the sweet interaction with one thought repeatedly popping up in your mind, “Is it to early to be thinking about marriage?”
————
You love Tim, it’s something that you had realized early on in your relationship, but you swear he’s going to send you to an early grave with the amount of stress he puts you through. Almost every night for the last two weeks he’d shown up on your fire escape battered and bruised beyond recognition. The first time he’d done it you had to put Ares in his crate and throw a blanket over it, scared he was going to try and attack Tim with how he was growling and putting his haunches up.
By tonight however he’s grown used to the nightly intrusions, as he contents himself with watching you patch Tim up from his spot on the couch. You’re standing between Tim’s spread legs as he sits on the couch in front of you, running your hands up and down his bare arms carefully, checking for any other injuries he might’ve not told you about but mainly reassuring yourself that he’s here, and he’s okay. This is the worst shape he’s ever come to you in and you have to be sure that you haven’t missed anything.
Seemingly reading your mind he softly mutters, “I’m not going anywhere.” His hands find your hips as you stand between his spread legs. You vaguely realize that he’s gazing up at you like you’d hung the stars in the sky. “I promise.” He whispers, leaning forward to bury his face in your stomach.
You run your fingers through his hair, trying your best to detangle it from his night of crime fighting. “You know I’ll always be here for you.” You begin, “But you have got to take better care of yourself.” You can’t help but gaze at the canvas of his ribs, pale skin mottled with shades of blue and black. His arms are covered in cuts, a number of which you had to stitch up. You hated how steady your hands were getting with that damned needle.
He lets out an ambiguous groan and tightens his hold on your hips, when he speaks you can barely hear him from where his mouth is pressed against your shirt. “‘M sorry.” He mummers.
You let out a sigh and tip your head back to stare at your ceiling as you tangle your hands in his hair. “You don’t need to be sorry.” You sigh softly. “Just careful.”
After a moment you gently pull him to stand and begin guiding him to your bedroom with a hand on his back, which he lets you do wordlessly. You move to your bed and begin gently pushing him to sit.
He lets you push him, offering no resistance as he turns himself to lean against your pillows, poorly concealing a wince as his stitches pull and scrape against the bed. You watch him with a concerned furrow in your brow. “One second.” You mummer, side-stepping Ares, who had silently followed you into your bedroom.
You move to your dresser and pull out a change of clothes for him. He had started to keep clothes at your apartment after several instances of him spending the night as Red Robin and not having any civvies on hand for the next morning.
Tim lets out a grunt of displeasure when he sees you have one of his t-shorts and a pair of shorts in hand. “What? You don’t like me in just my boxers?” He says with a smirk of his face that has no right being that attractive when you can’t do anything about it.
You let out a groan and throw them on top of your dresser reluctantly as you go to sit next to his reclined body. “I just don’t want you to get cold.” You mummer, leaning forward to gently kiss his cheek.
“I’m not that fragile.” He says with a soft laugh, leaning into your touch eagerly.
You lay down next to him and drape your arm across his chest, being careful to avoid his injuries as he gingerly wraps one of his arms around your shoulders. “You’re not doing any work tomorrow night or the next.” You say bluntly as you gaze at his injuries, a firm look on his face.
Tim sighs and gets a vaguely guilty look on his face. “Babe I would if I could but Bruce-“
You sit up just enough to give him a firm glare, one that he knows better than to argue with. “If Bruce gives you shit for not going out and risking your life while seriously injured I’m kicking his fucking ass.” You practically growl, leaning forward slightly to get your point across.
Tim rolls his eyes and lets out a grating sigh as you lay back down against him. “I’d pay money to see you fight Bruce.” He mumbles tiredly.
“If he tries to make you go out tomorrow you’re getting your wish.” You say. The moment is cut-off however when Ares jumps up on your bed and curls over your feet, and much to your shock, Tim’s as well. When you turn to give him a surprised smile he is already dead asleep.
————
You can’t believe yourself, honestly you can’t. How the hell did you manage to get sick right before Tim was supposed to get back from his mission? You let out a soft whine as you finish puking your guts up and double check that the toilet flushes properly. You lean back slightly and attempt to orient yourself. You get your period every week and yet still you haven’t managed to master the art of not letting it beat your ass.
You look over at Ares’ soft whine, he’s seated himself at the bathroom door and is watching you carefully to make sure you’re okay. He only abandons his post at the sound of the window opening, loud barks and whines making his excitement clear to anyone who knows him. You curse yourself quietly as you force yourself to stand and grab your toothbrush from its spot next to Tim’s, quickly plopping a generous amount of toothpaste on it and shoving it in your mouth. You hope Ares distracts Tim long enough for you to attempt to hide the evidence of your monthly illness.
You quicken your movement at the sound of Tim calling your name. Spitting out your toothpaste and quickly rinsing out your mouth at the sound of him approaching. As he peers around the doorframe to gaze at you lift your arms and smother him in a hug which he eagerly returns. “I missed your pretty boy.” You say blearily as you run your hands over his shoulders and down his back, checking him over for injuries.
He lets out a soft, tired laugh against your neck at the nickname, his muscles slowly but surely relaxing at the feeling of you finally with him again. You squeeze him around his middle gently, being mindful of any potential injuries as Ares lets out a whine at being ignored and swats Tim’s armor covered leg with his paw. Tim huffs out a laugh and pulls back from you, crouching down to Ares’ height and letting him lick his face where his domino mask was a moment prior.
You watch the scene affectionately when suddenly you feel a drop in your stomach, you rub your hand over your uterus to try and ignore the feeling but a moment later you’re gripping the sink in pain and letting out a low groan. Tim stands up quickly, his hands finding your shoulders and straightening you up just enough for him to look you over.
“Baby? What’s wrong?” He asks you quickly. You move the hand you were gripping the sink with to wave him off dismissively only to be shown that was a stupid idea when your cramps double in intensity and you nearly fall to the ground in pain, only held up by Tim desperately grabbing you by the armpits and lifting you into a bridal hold.
He moves you so quickly you barely have time to register what’s happening before he is lowering you down on your bed, running a hand over your forehead soothingly to clear any hairs that were sticking due to sweat. “Have you taken any medicine for it yet?” He asks in a soothing mummer.
When you give him a confused glance through the pain he offers you an explanation despite the slight pink now tinting his cheeks. “You were due for your period, and you were brushing your teeth when I arrived which indicates you threw up which is typical for you on the first day of your period. Plus you sent Ares to come greet me instead of doing so yourself.” At the sound of his name Ares invites himself onto your bed, lying over your legs and resting his head over your uterus defensively. You and Tim both instinctively move to scratch in-between his ears.
“So uh-“ Tim clears his throat. “Should I go get you some ibuprofen?” He asks meekly.
You grab his hand a place a reassuring kiss to the back of it. “Would you please baby?” You soothe.
Tim gives you a firm nod and moves to do so, Ares lets out a soft whine when Tim leaves the room but doesn’t move from his spot on you. Tim returns a moment later, a bottle of ibuprofen in one hand and a glass of water in his other. He sets both on your nightstand before carefully counting out your desired amount of ibuprofen, handing it to you, and carefully tipping a mouthful of water into your mouth once you go to swallow them.
“Thank you.” You say as you attempt to relax against your bed. “You’re the best.”
“I know.” Tim quips, smirking at you as you roll your eyes playfully, he leans forward to press a kiss to the center of your forehead. He lingers a moment before pulling back to look at you, at the lack of eye-contact he hesitates a moment before asking, “What’s wrong baby? Are you in pain?”
You shift uncomfortably for a moment, causing Ares to grumble, before muttering out, “I’m sorry you have to take care of me.”
Tim balks at your words and grabs both of your hands securely, shuffling closer from where he was sitting by your reclined form to press your forms together gingerly. “Don’t say that baby,” he soothes “I’ll always take care of you.”
You shake your head softly, trying to suppress the tears you feel coming to your eyes. “Wanted to take care of you.” You mutter, avoiding his concerned look, “I was so excited for you to get back.”
Tim holds your face and gently wipes away your tears with his thumbs. “You always take care of me baby, it’s the least I can do to take care of you once in a while.” He all but whispers, pressing your foreheads together.
Suddenly Ares is also attempting to press his face against yours, nosing his way in front of Tim’s and licking your face eagerly, causing you to giggle and Tim to let out an offended sound at his spot being stolen.
“See?” Tim says after a moment of Ares’ enthused licking. “Even Ares wants to take care of you.”
You shake your head with a soft sigh as Ares finally calms down, moving to protect your feet and let Tim take over soothing you once more. “My boys.” You mutter gently, giving Tim an affectionate look.
“All yours.” Tim confirms, moving forward to press a soft kiss against your lips. “Always.”
#key writing#Sorry nonny I don’t really know if did your request justice#I was just having fun past a certain point mb 😭#tim x reader#tim drake x reader#tim drake#tim drake wayne#tim drake x you#red robin x reader#red robin x you#red robin#I honestly don’t really like this but whatever
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Could you answer a curiosity of mine?
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Pairing: Jing Yuan x gn! reader
Cw: none
Word count: 1.0k
Synopsis: You notice something off about your partner's hair, so you point it out and get to spend some quality time with him.
A/n: I finally did it. I completed this fic, and now I can post it! As always, requests are open. Pls check the pinned post!
Divider by @firefly-graphics
It was a day like the others. You were tidying up a little while your partner, Jing Yuan, was taking a shower to clean off all the dirt and sweat he could have on his body since summer was coming up and the days began being hotter and hotter by the minute.
You still couldn't believe you could call the General of the Cloud Knights of the Luofu and one of the Seven Arbiter-Generals your partner.
The relationship was at the first stages, still pretty contained and not much action besides lingering kisses and long nights spent cuddled one against the other.
The Dozing General, after all, hasn't been romantically infatuated with anyone since his teen years.
But, besides that, you two had great chemistry and were a match made in heaven. The frequency of your visits started to piss off Yanqing for how much time and attention you were taking away from his master. He even started joking around with Yunli of how you two should get together.
The two young ones teased the hell out of both of you, but in the end, they've grown to like the idea of you two together.
As you folded and put away the dirty sheets, you went to grab new ones from one of the shelves in the closet that was in the corridor before the main bathroom.
Coincidentally, you both happened to open the doors of the rooms you were in, one to enter, the other to exit the bathroom.
There you saw him. The General, no, Jing Yuan was standing right in front of you. He looked like he had just come out of the shower. His hair was dripping wet. He only had a towel wrapped around his hips to cover his intimates and... he noticed you staring at him.
You quickly averted your gaze and buried your face in the clean bed sheets you had in your hands.
"I'm sooo sorry Jing Yuan! I didn't mean to invade your privacy" you said hurriedly as you got out of that little corridor.
All of the sudden, you felt his hand grabbing your wrist to pull you closer to him.
"H-huh?" You stared at him with a confused and flustered look on your face.
"I'm sorry if I'm making you uncomfortable, my dear. I'd just like to ask you if you could help me with drying my hair... it's a really... tiring process, and if I have to be honest, I don't think I have the strength to do it myself." Jing Yuan asked calmly. Did he really not care that there was one single layer of fabric that hanged on his hips for dear life that separated decency and indecency?
You sighed. "Okay... can you at least put something on?"
"Of course, dear" he said with his usual calm smile as he approached the bedroom and changed into his nightrobe.
Once dressed more decently, you invited him to sit with his back on the side of your shared bed. In the meanwhile, you prepared all the tools and products you thought he needed when in reality, he never really cared that much about styling his hair or using products to protect them from heat or being frizzy.
You sat down on the bed behind him and placed yourself with your legs at his sides.
As you combed and dried his hair, you noticed two major elements. You knew his hair was layered and not cut straight... but not like a wolf cut. The complete opposite.
"A-Yuan...?" You called out for his attention.
"Yes?" He answered with a soft and sleepy tone.
"Could you answer a curiosity of mine?"
"Of course. What is it that plagues your mind?"
"Have you ever got an undercut?"
He placed his hand over his face in order to hide the faint blush on his face even if you couldn't see it.
"Yes, I had one. When I was still a teenager, it just so happened that there was a really hot summer and... I gave in. I couldn't resist the heat, and, in the end, I gave myself an undercut. Like I said... dealing with these hair it's really time-consuming." He explained and then lowered his voice when he admitted he couldn't bear the heat of that summer.
"Don't be flustered, I get it. I knew some people that had to do the same thing..." You eased his worries. "And... by the way, have you ever considered having curly hair?"
"Yes. I actually did. But, as you may have figured out, I have little to no time to actually care about what hair type I have"
"That sounds like bullshit to me." You got up from your seat on the bed and indicated the bathroom.
"... is this a cue to go back to the bathroom, dear?" He asked with a smirk on his face.
"We have time now. Go and put your head under the running water. This may take a while"
"Yes, my love" he said as he went back to the bathroom. You were left there with a deep blush on your cheeks.
"Damn you..." you muttered under your breath as you waited a bit to calm down and then went in the bathroom where he was waiting for you with his hair damp.
After a good hour and a half, you made him look in the mirror with his damaged, loose, but still there, curl pattern.
"So... what do you think?"
He looked at himself in the mirror and not only he felt a little boost for his confidence, but he also appreciated the opportunity to spend some quality time with his partner. Doing something that made him leave the general role and indulge in the little things that made life worth living is surely something he doesn't do often.
"It's... really good. I appreciate what you've done for me tonight, dear"
"Don't mention it. I like spending time with you and taking care of you"
He leaned in and left a soft kiss on their lips.
"I look forward for the next time then." He said as soon as his eyes met with yours.
Your cheeks turning red was the last thing you wanted him to see tonight.
Likes, comments, and reblogs are always much appreciated. <333
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Did it mean something? D.W𖧷
♡Dean Winchester X Female Reader♡
♡Warnings: Mentions of kissing, and language no use of Y/n. 18+ pls minors DNI!!!!!♡ please do not post my fics anywhere else expect tumblr, you have been warned!
♡Feedback is appreciated! Comments and reblogs are appreciated!!!!♡
♡Depending how this does I’ll post a part two!♡
♡My inbox is open for anything! (It will be open for requests soon!)♡
It had been a few days after Sam went to hell. Dean had lost his brother and you had lost your best friend that day. It was hard on you both. You didn't talk about it.
You both had been pushing your feelings down, about the whole situation, too scared to open up. Since Sam had been gone you and Dean had been hunting nonstop. It had been an easier way to cope with everything. Just pretending that everything was fine when it wasn't.
You And Dean had just finished vamp hunt and he offered to get food for you both.
After the hunt It had been raining like cats and dogs, you had been stuck in the hotel room trying to get a signal on the tv. "Come on!" You scream hitting the sides of the tv, it had been going out since the storm started, you sigh and run you hand across your face, when you were met with black and white static.
"Piece of shit-" You mutter kicking the bottom of the tv stand. You huff and sit on the edge of one of the motel beds.
You and Dean had been laying low for the past couple of days. You didn't hear from Bobby nor cas. You flop back onto the bed with a groan.
That was until the motel door swung open causing you to look over.
"Still nothing?" Dean questions throwing a white fastfood bag onto the little table in the kitchen.
"Nope." You say still looking at the ceiling.
You hear shuffling for a second, then you see the green eyed hunter standing over you with something wrapped in tinfoil. "Eat." He says placing it next to you.
You quickly sit up and grab the burger. You watch as Dean sits on the bed opposite bed across from you, he begins to unwrap the burger he had gotten both of you.
You watch as he bites into it, but you also noticed his wet hair. You watch him take two bites before looking in your direction.
Dean stops chewing the food in his mouth, "What?" He questions when he catches you stare at him.
"Nothing." You say.
Dean mumbles an 'ok' and continues to eat.
For some guy who had lost his brother he seems to be doing just fine. You get up from the bed, and walk into the kitchen, pulling out the chair you pull back the motel curtain, you stare out the window and watch the rain fall.
You missed Sam, he was your besfriend - besides Dean you thought, you and Dean were never really close it upset you, he never really talked to you about anything besides Sam. When you entered the room he'd go quite.
You never understood why.
You had been staring out the window for too long to notice the green eyed hunter sitting across from you.
"You really should eat."
His voice rumbles through your body. "I'm good." You say looking from the window and to the man that had been sitting across from you for god knows how long.
Dean sighs and leans back in the chair.
"You okay Dean?" You Hum crossing your arms over your chest.
"As good as i can be." He huffs through his nose, "I could ask you the same thing, I know loosing your bestfriend is hard." He says.
You roll your eyes, "He's your brother Dean."
Dean leans forward on the table his arms resting against the table. He nods his head, "We'll get him back." Dean says taking a deep breath, "We always do." He gets up from the table tapping his knuckles against the wood.
You notice the bruises that sit upon his knuckles, they were purple. He had gotten them trying to fight of a vampire, to save you.
"Sorry about that." You swallow, your eyes still focused on the purple.
Dean follows your gaze.
"Its nothing, happens." He says walking over to the fridge, he opens it pulling out two beers. He holds one up, He knew you weren't very much of a drinker. You hated beer. But why the hell not, right?
You get up from your chair and make your way over to Dean where he was leaning against the counter. He flicks the bottle top off and plops it in the sink behind him.
You copy his motion, you step beside him and plop the top into the sink.
You bring the bottle up to your lips, the bitter liquid runs down your throat. pullinging the bottle away, you notice Dean's eyes on yours.
"What?" You hiccup.
"Nothing," He says bringing the glass bottle up to his lips.
You begin to fidgit with the bottle, you were still facing the sink, staring down at the two bottle tops in the sink. "Do you ever think about it?" You hum.
Dean turns his head in confusion, "Think about..? he questions, you noticed the confusion in his voice.
You take a deep breath, "Getting out, hunting. And living a normal life."
Dean stares down at his bottle, "All the time." Dean sighs.
He had called one of his lovers, Lisa hoping to rekindle something with her now that Sam was gone, she said yes. Dean was supposed to leave by morning.
But Dean didn't know if he wanted too, it would leave you alone and he knew that you were counting on him to be there.
You sigh.
You could see Dean shifing in his spot. What was he thinking about you wonder?
You place the beer bottle down on the counter, making your way over to the bed. The staic looking on the tv fills your ears.
"Do you think about it?" Dean asks putting his bottle next to yours. He strieds over to the bed and sits next to you.
Talking a shaky breath, you turn to face the green eyed man. "No." Dean watches you fiddle with your fingers, as he waits for you to contiue, "I never saw myself settling down, or getting out of this life, it's not for me. This is my life. There's no changing that."
Dean nods at your words.
You look up to find the man looking at you. His eyes searching your face, going back and forth between your eyes and lips.
It all happened to fast, Dean's lips on yours you his on his shirt, urging him to take it off.
This was wrong, you thought. You never felt this way about him. He was so mysterious, he never let you in on anything that happened to him, it was always Sam filling you in.
You both could barely be in a room together without one of you leaving because of the awkwardness.
But maybe it was Dean putting up a guard to try and protect you. He knew you didn't belong in this life, hunting and killing things. It just wasn't right for you.
You're different you aren't like him or Sam. And that's what Dean liked.
You were bought out of your thoughts when Dean nipped your ear causing you to squeal. "everything okay?" Dean questions looking up. You were straddling him.
His lips were pink and swollen from the kissing.
You quickly nod and grab his face, pressing your lips against his.
- - You had been woken up by a pounding on the door, you shoot up out of the bed, your eyes still trying to adjust from the light that was coming through the window.
You quickly pull the covers from your body, cold air hits your skin, you were naked. "Shit." You mumble, the pouding on the door didn't stop.
You looking over on the side of your bed where you were hoping to find Dean but he was gone. A bad feeling washed over you when you slide you t-shirt over your head.
You smelt him everywhere. In your skin in your hair. He was everywhere but no where all at once.
Putting the last leg into your jean's you fling open the door.
You were met with an old lady and a cleaning cart, "Room service!" She smiles, squeezing past you with her cart. You close the door behind you.
You quickly rush over to the bathrrom, maybe he'd just been in there, but you were met with a dark room. His duffle bag was gone. You swallow hard.
You walk back into the kitchen to find the beer bottles still sitting on the counter. Everything was gone, he was gone.
Tears form in your eyes. You grab your socks and shoes, and your coat that had been on the back of the chair in the kitchen chair.
You do a quick run through of the room to make sure you weren't missing anything.
Turing your head over your shoulder you had noticed the tv wasn't static anymore, an episode of 'Dr sexy' Was playing on the screen.
The cleaning lady had made her way over to the kitchen area, throwing away the bottles you and Dean had drank out of earlier.
You sigh and fish the hotel key out of your pocket before setting it down on the table.
You shut the door of the motel behind you, you fish out your phone and scroll through your contacts.
You click on the name before letting it ring a few times.
"Hey Bobby, care to give a girl a lift?"
#dean winchester x reader#dean winchester angst#dean winchester fanfiction#dean x you#dean winchester fic#supernatural dean#dean x reader#dean winchester#sam and dean#dean winchester comfort#dean winchester fluff#dean winchester x you#dean winchester x female!reader#supernatural fic#spn one shot#spn fanfic
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Hazard x Reader - You little Gommy
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first tumblr post!!! need more fics of him omg pls 1.1k words fluff!! sorry scotland if i fucked up ur language - The quiet atmosphere was deafening, a place usually so full of laughter and talking, suddenly turned to the complete opposite. Everyone in the gang had left to steal a high tech weapon from the Oasis. Well, everyone but her. She stared at the ceiling, the bed creaking a little bit as she moved. Her eyes wandered across the whole room, going through every little detail as if she had never been there before. Boredom can really make a person mad huh? Her eyes looked through the photos they had taken together as a family. Some of them only have certain people and so on. Her eyes lingered on the picture of her and Findlay, well he is better known as Hazard. She slowly got up from the bed, walking towards the counter and staring at the holographic picture. In the picture they both stared at the camera smiling widely as he held it up, she remembered when they took this photo. It took him so long to figure out how to press one button and she couldn’t stop laughing at him. Such a small thing had such a big impact on her memories. She couldn’t help but let a small smile form on her face as she remembered A sudden sharp pain however had that smile wipe away. She let out a loud groan, her hand immediately flying to hold her side. Oh right, she had gotten hurt during action in their last mission. A guard sneaked up to her and landed a very mean punch to her side, bruising the whole side. Yeah the guard had some sort of knuckle braces or something, was a hard hit anyway. She could remember being so scared that her ribs had been busted, or that the braces had gone deep into her skin, good thing it was none of that. Ribs just got bruised a lot, very painful. She cursed to herself as she tried heading back to bed, only for the pain to strike her back two times worse now. She could only stand still, holding her side, even if touching it wasn’t the best idea either. She leaned on the counter, keeping her balance, waiting for the stronger pain to pass. It was at that moment she heard the faint muffled noise of an engine coming closer and closer. It must be the gang! FUCK! They couldn’t see her out of the bed, she tried to walk forward, pushing through the pain. The quick movements made everything worse, one bad move caused her to twist in a bad way and she fell down onto her knees, fighting against her angry tears. She felt so fucking useless like this. She heard the heavy door to their hideout open, bringing with it loud laughter and quick chatter. One of the voices really stood out to her, Hazard. “We really tore tha' place down ay?!” He laughed, his heavy Scottish accent so intoxicating to her. “You really scared us there for a moment champ.” BoomSlang said, shaking her head as if disappointed even though a smile rested on her face. “Ah! You woulda’ done the same if you were in my place.” He chuckled, giving her back a few pats before walking past all of them. “‘Right. I'm gonna head to bed, don’t do ‘nothin stupid without me!” He waved his hand before disappearing down the hall Hazard walked further from the laughter and chatter of his friends, his steps confident and full of energy. His mind was racing, thinking about everything that happened today. One thing he knows for sure though is that he feels fucking awesome and that he cannot wait to embrace his little darling.
He neared his room and as he finally stopped in front of the door he listened for a moment. Considering there was light coming from the small crack below the door and if she was doing something, but he couldn’t hear anything, perhaps she was still sleeping and recovering. He smiled to himself, opening the door slowly. He was not expecting to see her on the floor on her knees holding her side, trying to lift herself up. “Whadda’ ya doin bonny??!” He said a bit urgently, rushing to her side. “I’m sorry Lay’... I just don't know. I was looking at the pictures, completely forgetting my predicament.” She sighed, looking up at him. “You little gommy. Let’s get ya back to bad ‘right?” He said softly, carefully maneuvering his cybernetic arms to not hurt her. “Thank you..” She mumbled, accepting his gentle help. Once he had her safely tucked under the covers he sat down on the side of the bed, the mattress sinking a bit under her weight. He turned his head over his shoulder, staring at her. She stared back, captivated by his pretty eyes, her cheeks burning up a bit. He chuckled, turning himself around a bit more, so that his whole upper body was now in her line of sight. “Aye.. ya know you can always ask for help right?” He smiled at her, using his left hand to caress her cheek lovingly. “Just don’t wanna be a bother to you…” She mumbled, leaning her head into his palm. “You could neva’ bother me ya numpty. I love you after all don’t i?” He chuckled. She blushed at his words, she had been together with him long enough to figure out some of the slang he used when referring to her or other people. Right now he called her a lovable moron, some people could get offended but they loved lovingly insulting each other, just part of their love language really.
“Alright, you get some sleep yeah? Otherwise yer gonna miss that beauty sleep of yous.” Hazard said, about to get up from the bed to give her some alone time, only to be stopped by a hand quickly latching onto his wrist. She winched a little bit at the sudden movement again, but nothing was going to stop her from speaking her mind. “Wait, please. Could you.. stay with me hun..? I just.. I don't wanna sleep alone, and I need your company..” She asked quietly.
“You know I could neva’ say no to you.” He slowly and carefully climbed into the bed, thankful he had switched out his gun for his other cybernetic arm so that it would be less uncomfortable for her to sleep on. She smiled at him, and snuggled up beside him, his body a walking furnace, she felt so safe and warm beside him. He stared down at her, running his fingers through her hair to soothe her nerves. She looked up at him and motioned for him to lean down a bit which he did. Her lips slowly landed on his, giving him a long kiss goodnight. “Sleep well lassie.” “You too dummy.” - I TRIED!!! Please hazard lovers request stories so i stay motivated
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ENHYPEN Imagines
insolitus | yjw.
part three
pairings: yang jungwon x reader
synopsis: you’ve always thought jungwon is out of this world, out of ordinary. he’s someone who seems familiar but at the same time mysterious for almost everybody. you didn’t expect that he himself will unfold more of him with you and it was an insolitus experience.
word count: 4k
warnings: yandere themes, mention of murder, violence, obsessive love, grammatical errors, kissing. (let me know if i missed some)
note: i really wait until heeseung’s limerence were posted since this will spoil it if I released this first. anyway, sorry if i kept you waiting. replies and reblogs are highly encouraged. if you want more, giving feedbacks are the only thing i asked from you guys. i really loved reading them and boost me more to write faster. it really means a lot. ily and stay safe! send me asks too.
( part one ; part two )
fic moodboard › here
eeunoia 2024 © all rights reserved.
“You need to feed her more, Mr. Yang.” the doctor sighs then glances at your unconscious body laying on the middle of the queen size bed.
Some of the house helpers gathers around to make sure you’re feeling warm enough, tucked on the bed perfectly.
“Her body needs its nutrients or else her body will get weak.” he added then whips his head to look at Jungwon.
He looked serious while standing beside your bed, watching you cautiously. The doctor couldn’t tell what’s exactly inside his mind. If he’s feeling regret or what.
“If that’s all, I would take my leave Mr. Yang. Call me if you need something else or if ever something happened.” Jungwon nods his head without sparing their family doctor a glance.
One of the helpers guides the doctor outside the room and slowly one by one, they left the room. Jungwon was left with you. The sound of aircondition can be heard, preventing the deafening silence to overcome Jungwon.
He won’t try to cover it up. He does feel a slight guilt for what happened. You just collapsed after being deprived of food for several days. He does offer water to keep you hydrated, but he limits your intake of food to punish you. It was his only way to punish you since he refused to hit you physically.
He’s not very amused of your behavior lately. Trying so hard to escape after succeeding the first time that night. You just don’t learn and seems like not afraid enough. After knowing well how you affect him, you kept trying since then. He was playing along at first, but after you managed to run out from the mansion and up to their gate last week, he knew he needed to set boundaries towards you.
He slowly walked closer towards the side of the bed then sat down. Your face looked peaceful while sleeping. Despite the tears from the corner of your eyes, you looked beautiful for Jungwon. You look fragile. Like a bunny being hunted by a wolf.
He stretches his hand and caress your face using the back of it. Being a light sleeper, you stir from your sleep and gently flutter your eyes open. It was blurry at first, making it hard for you to register where you are or what happened prior to this.
You looked over Jungwon and opens your mouth, feeling your throat too dry. “W-What happened?”
He smiled a little then brushes away some of your hair, “You passed out, baby.”
Your lips pursed and tries harder to remember what happened to you. After finally realizing that it was due to exhaustion and being food deprived your eyes darted at his direction. Slight hatred flashes through your eyes. His remains soft, unlike whenever you try to run away.
That’s one of the things you noticed. Jungwon looked so soft whenever you look fragile. But he’s the complete opposite whenever you disobey him. He’s scary.
You gulped, “You did this to me.” you mumbled, eyes brimming with tears.
He didn’t say anything and just kept his stares at you. His hands rests over your arm then caress it softly while he listens to what you’re trying to say.
“You w-want to kill me.”
He sighs and licked his lower lip. “That’s not what I’m trying to do, baby. I just want to discipline you.”
A tear escapes from your eye, “Discipline? I’m not the one who needs disciplining, Jungwon! It's you! What you’re doing is wrong!”
He rolled his eyes and lifts his hand off from your skin. A part of your heart fell from the sudden lost of contact and it was odd. Why would you feel that way? He is your captor! The last thing you should feel is attraction and want of his affection.
“You can’t get away from this..” you stare straight to his eyes.
Jungwon cranes his neck to look over you. His eyes roams around your face before it trailed down your lips. He lets out a strained sigh. He can’t believe you are going through this once again.
“But I already did, y/n.” he stood up and stared down at you, piercing his cold dark eyes. It sent instant shivers to your spine.
You continued being stubborn towards him. Refusing any chances of getting close with Jungwon. He’s slowly losing his patience with you and honestly, he hates to go to his last resort but he knew have no other choice.
“PLEASE! STOP!”
Jungwon clenches his jaw while his feet taps continuously on the cold marble tiles. He’s trying so hard not to burst inside that room and save you from this misery. Jake notices his friend’s anxious behavior so he sighs and walks closer, clapping his hand over his shoulder.
One day, your loud and terrifying screams echoes over the silent hallway of the isolated mansion where Jungwon’s been keeping you.
“Relax, dude.” he smiles, trying to make him feel better.
“Are you sure its going to be fine?” Jungwon asks, brows hardly furrowed and head turning at the direction of the room you’re currently locked in.
“It’s fine, Jungwon. We’ve done that procedure a lot of times. I’m sure it will work. Don’t worry, okay?” Jake tries to assure his friend. He could tell how disturbed he is by the situation and he can’t even blame him.
Even before Jungwon can respond to what his hyung said, another petrifying screams ringed so loudly. Their heads whipped towards the direction of the room in unison and stayed silent for a while.
“Of course it can be painful, but I will guarantee you that it will be all worth it.” then Jake claps his hand over his shoulder.
Jungwon’s eyes didn’t left the room as he gulped with nothing in mind, but you. He delayed this for a while, insisting to his hyung that he can manage to get inside your mind without actually breaking you completely. Apparently, you are stronger than he thought you are resulting for his hyung to step in and take matters into his own hands.
They have plans and in order for these plans to go well coordinately, they have to follow certain rules and schedules. And due to your stubborness, they are falling behind schedule.
Jake knew he had to step in and force Jungwon to let you undergo this. Its really cruel and the jail time that they can receive if somebody knew about this can be very serious. They’re trying to mess with your brain to make you forget some memories if they trigger it by believing that its something traumatic.
When our brain senses something that can traumatize the host, it usually come up with solutions. One of them is forcefully deleting these memories and replacing it with hallucinations that can be planted by whoever gaslighter that will talk them through it.
“ENOUGH! PLEASE!” you cried out when you felt another electrifying pain occurying your whole body. Tears stream down your face nonstop and it felt so bad that you’re starting to wish for your life to end.
“P-Please,” you mumbled losing all your energy and body giving up from too much exhaustion.
The last thing you can remember is the blinding light from the ceiling and then slowly you lost consciousness.
Jungwon and Jake stood up at the same time the doctor went out from the room.
“How was it, doctor?” Jake asks hopeful.
“Is she okay?” Jungwon asked eagerly.
“She’s fine. Just really exhausted. We will leave her to take a rest for as much as her body wants. Once she wakes up, she might not remember the past events from a while. I have no idea what she will remember, but we’ll know once she does.”
Jungwon nods his head and eyes darted at the room. “I can go visit her, right?”
The doctor nods his head, “Of course. Its better to talk to her even if she’s still unconscious. Just make sure not to say anything you don’t want her to remember. She may be unconsious, but her brain is still currently active and it may caught on it later on.” he carefully reminded him.
Jungwon thanked the doctor and Jake told his friend that he will walk him out to talk some things with him as well. He gave his hyung a short nod before walking towards the room.
She saw one nurse trying to clean some of the materials and another one checking your vitals. As usual, your beautiful face looked peaceful as you sleep.
“Hi, baby. I’m here now.” he whispers after you two are left alone.
He kept his loving stares right at you. Silently admiring how beautiful you are. Letting him be fully drawn onto you. Not everyone will understand him if ever they knew what he’s doing. They may call him crazy and an awful person, but he doesn’t care.
None of them can beat his desires of wanting you for himself. Just by thinking of not having you with him is already painful. He suffered enough being away from you and now that he experienced having you near him, he have no plan of letting you go.
He will do everything to keep you. Even if it means manipulating and gaslighting his way into your life.
He caress your face gently, “I’m here now, baby. Nobody can take you away now. You are safe.” he mumbles carefully before leaning down carefully and pressing a soft kiss at your forehead.
“I’m here now, baby. Nobody can take you away now. You are safe.” that was the only thing you can remember the moment you crack your eyes open.
The first thing that greets you was the clean white ceiling and a nurse stood beside you, checking something. When her eyes drifted at you and she saw you finally awake, she gasped lightly and smiled.
“You’re finally awake!” she sounded so happy and even start checking you. Asking things like if you feel any pain somewhere or if you can see her perfectly.
Despite being totally confused, you followed as she told you. Eventually, someone who seemed like a doctor came in. She flashes you the brightest smile that slightly melts down your guard.
She asked the nurse to raise your bed so you can be in a more comfortable position while she ask you a few question.
“Do you remember anything, y/n?” she asks and starts examining you. Looking through your eyes and all.
You stayed silent, trying to remember the last thing you can before waking up in this hospital bed. Yes, you’ve been informed that you are currently at the town’s hospital.
“Do you remember that your name is y/n?” she asks and pulls away slightly to look at your eyes.
You nod your head right away and she smiles in relief. She continued asking you, but also reminding you not to push yourself to remember and just take your time. No rush.
As you try to remember something, the familiar voice that has been echoing inside your mind repeats once again.
“I r-remember somebody talking...” you started that nods her head with anticipation in her eyes.
“He said that he’s there now and that I am safe. Nobody will take me.” you tried to repeat the exact words the voice said.
She broke into a very warm smile.
“That must’ve be Mr. Yang Jungwon.” she said that made you crease your forehead.
“J-Jungwon?” you asked confused.
Her smile fell for a bit while, but she pulls it once again. “Yes. You know him, right?”
You pursed your lips and tries to recall the most memorable interaction you have with Yang Jungwon, the president of the your school’s student council. The reliable, handsome, youngest son of the governor. He’s very famous in your batch. Not just because of his undeniable charms, but also due to his credibility. He’s indeed an amazing guy.
“H-He’s my schoolmate.”
She smiles even wider, “Right. He’s the one who found you unconscious by the far part of the forest.” she explained.
Your heart thumped faster by what you heard. The information suddenly clouding your mind and slowly making your head ache.
“F-Forest?” your head tilt and face showed displeasure.
“Hmm.” she hums and even caress your arm. “He was hunting with some of his friends when he found you and he took you here.”
You stayed silent and just accept what she’s telling you since you cannot remember anything other than walking home alone and then (ex boyfriend) appeared— Right. He went after you and you two argued. It was so intense that he starts yanking your arms hardly.
“(ex boyfriend).” you mumble lowly and she stopped talking.
“What’s that, y/n?” she tries asking since she couldn’t quite hear it.
Your teary eyes slowly trailed towards the doctor’s face to look at her now worried eyes.
“I remember having an argument with (ex boyfriend).” you told her and her lips pursed tightly together.
You teared your gaze away and tries to remember more when your head starts to ache so badly. You lift your hand and hold onto it tightly, eyes shut.
“Acck!” you groaned as she stood up to assist you and ask you to please calm down. She called another nurse to help her look after you.
They both panic as you starts to whimper in pain. The pain was not tolerable at the moment. You feel like someone’s drilling into your skull.
“M-Make it stop please!” you begged as blur memories of someone holding you captive and punishing you flashes through your mind.
They aren’t clear enough to see whose behind all of that. All you know is that even if you can’t remember it compelely, the feeling and emotions you’ve felt those moment are still carved in you. You felt scared and anxious that whoever did that to you probably will come after you anytime.
Even before you can open your eyes, you felt a sting by one of your arm. One of the nurses injects something to help you calm down and prevent you from harming yourself furthermore.
“Anything else, y/n?” your eyes drifts over the officer sat beside your bed.
He looked kind and reliable. The type of officer you will really trust, yet you can’t help but to feel anxious. Your hospital room are filled with some police officer that came to interview you and by the corner, you can see your parents watching you with worried eyes.
They are more than delighted after hearing the news of someone finally finding you. They didn’t waste any time and rushed over the hospital. It was hurtful for them seeing you laying on the bed with some bruises over your body, clearly lost weight and traumatized. They finally found you, but it feels like something in you changed ever since.
“I t-told you it was (ex boyfriend). He was the last one with me!” you’re starting to feel frustrated with all of these interviews. It’s so hard for you.
You understand that they’re just trying to do their job and to finally solve your case, but its just exhausting. Its like living your trauma over and over again. It feels like torture.
“But sweetheart, he’s already gone.” the police officer said in a low tone.
Your head lifts and brows furrowed in confusion, asking what he meant by the word ‘gone’. He gulped, hesitating a bit if he should tell you or not. In the end, he decided to do it.
“He’s dead, y/n.” he revealed that made your heart fell. You slowly shake your head side to side, denying it.
For the past two days that you are here, you have lived with the thought that he’s the one who captured you and kept you. Now that the police is saying that he’s dead, changes everything again.
“He died the same day that you’ve been kidnapped, three months ago.”
“T-Three months?” you are surprised to know you’ve been gone for so long.
“Yes.” he nods and your eyes dropped at your hand resting by your lap.
“We’re afraid that your captor is still on the loose and he might be just around—” the door to your hospital room burst open.
Your tearful eyes softens at the sight of Yang Jungwon entering. His eyes are fixed right at you before scanning the whole room. His brows furrowed hardly at the sight of police officers inside.
“W-Won...” you stuttered and sniffed, tears pooling your eyes even more.
Jungwon’s still wearing his school uniform when he close the door behind him then slowly walks towards your bed. His strict eyes darts at the officer beside.
“Mr. Yang,” he greets and bowed before standing up. Jungwon stood firm as place his hand at the small of your back, instantly sending comfort towards you.
“We’re just doing some more interviews to miss (surname).” he informs politely.
“Can’t you do that some other time? You’ve been doing that for two days straight. It can be harmful for her.” he sounded so serious but his touch over you is gentle.
The police officer exchange glances before they decided to go call it a day. He watch as they leave and bid goodbye to your parents. After they left, Jungwon turns his attention towards you. His eyes looked so worried for you and instantly, you can feel your heart beating so fast.
“Are you okay?” he asks gently, leaning forward so he’s the same level as your eyes.
Your cheeks heated up because his face was so close and you can see how handsome he is. For the past two days that you’ve been confined here, he visited you. He’s so kind and caring that made you feel comfortable around him.
“Y-Yes.” you shortly replied.
Both of you stared at each other's eyes, doesn’t really want to break the eye contact. Your parents slowly approaches while having a warm smile on their faces. They couldn’t express how thankful they are to the family of Yang. They’re the ones who kept helping them to search for you. He takes after his good father, always very helpful.
They still remember when he saw him still wearing his hunting outfit while talking to the police officers outside the emergency room. It was the day that you are found. Jungwon’s eyes shifted over to your Mom when she approaches with tearful eyes.
“Thank you so much, Mr. Yang!” she exclaimes as she reach for his hand.
Jungwon showed her a small smile, “Just call me Jungwon, Mrs. (surname).” he politely said and even caress her arms.
She can’t explain what she felt those moment. Extreme happiness and relieved showers her, preventing her from seeing who truly is Yang Jungwon. His angelic face and warm smiles are perfect facade to hide the devil inside him.
“Thank you for bringing back my baby.” she pursed her lips and stared straight to his eyes.
Jungwon tried his best not to scoff right there and then.
‘Your baby?’ he asked sarcastically in the back of his mind. ‘She’s no longer yours. She’s mine. All mine.’ were the words he wants to say.
“No problem.” he says.
“Thank you.” your father shortly said after clapping his shoulder.
Jungwon’s eyes met his and for some reasons, there's something that flickers through your Father’s eyes. Besides relief and happiness, there’s a hint suspicion that flashes in a split second. He saw it.
He didn’t said anything about it and just bows for him, jaw slightly clenching.
Of course, none of them took suspicion that it was him who found you. Their alibi was perfect. Every week, Jungwon and his friends often hunt at the forest as a hobby. Something unquestionable for the town’s people as the group of friends really do have extraordinary activities. Some things that rich people do enjoys.
He found you and called the ambulance for you right away. Police and some journalists sworms the hospital afterwards. He was questioned too while the doctors and medical staffs of Jaeyun’s family owned hospital checks on you. That’s not a surprise anymore. Its just like how they predicted it. He didn’t even stutter as he shares his side of story. It was scary how convincing he sounds. He has no remorse and shame.
“Sorry if I arrived late. We got dismissed pretty late.” he says and cupped your face.
You shook your head side to side to assure him that it was completely fine. He doesn’t need to say sorry at all. In fact, you and your parents are starting to feel shy towards the Yang family. They had done so many things for you already.
“Y-You’re not required to visit me everyday...” the hint of denial evident towards your tone.
You don’t know if its because he’s just really nice or the fact that he ‘saved’ you made you attached to him. Whenever you see him, you just feel safe and secured. It was so strange.
“I want to.” he says and grabbed your hand.
Your eyes dropped to look at it and your stomach churns at the sight of his big hand engulfing yours. It was warm and comforting.
“Y/n, dear.” your Mom called you.
Your heads whips at her direction and you saw that she’s unpeeling the apple that Jungwon just brought for you. She flashes a warm smile before glancing at Jungwon, then back at you.
“We were talking about it and we decided that it would be safe for you to stay with Jungwon while your captor is still on the loose.” she announced.
Your eyes met with Jungwon and he’s smiling at you. His dimples so deep that you’re sure he’s being genuine.
“Are you sure its fine? You’ve done so much for me already.”
He tilts his head, “Its more than fine. I will feel more at ease when you’re near me. We never know where your captor is. I just want you to be safe.” he said then glanced at your parents. “We all want you safe.”
You stayed silent, contemplating. You want to stay with him. Like you mentioned, you feel safe around him. But besides feeling shy of being a bother, something in you tells you to decline the offer.
Jungwon’s thumb caress your hand snapping you out from your trance. His eyes stares at you softly, hypnotizing you.
“Y/n?” he calls.
“Don’t worry, honey. We will visit you all the time.” your Dad assured you and your eyes met his for a while before you finally nod your head.
Jungwon broke into a wider smile and tugs you closer to him, embracing you. He rests his head on top of yours as you snuggle over his chest, spacing out again.
“You’ll be all right.” he mumbles as all of you missed a ghost of evil smile spreading across of his handsome face.
“Her Dad is obviously suspicious of you, Won. What you going to do about it?” Jake cracks his neck before resting his back over their couch.
“If I were her Dad, I’ll suspect him to be the mastermind too.” Jay chuckles while busy playing his nintendo.
Jungwon shoot glares over his friend whose still busy with his game, bickering with Ni-ki from time to time.
“He’s not doing anything that can sabotage our plan so I think its still good.” he stated.
“And what if he tries to investigate himself? Like making you believe that he’s going along with you when he’s just gaining your trust and find the right timing to make a move?” Sunghoon asks.
He glances over his hyung and smirks, “Then I’d get rid of him.” he said without hesitation.
Sunoo chuckles, “Y/n will end up hating you.”
Jungwon smirks, “She won’t know its me. Besides, if she lost someone important she will be more vulnerable and she will lean on me more.”
Ni-ki lets out a big sigh, “You’re crazy, hyung. It’s so scary. I'm just glad I’m one of your friends.” he then laughed.
He and his friends are currently hanging out, trying to check if everything’s ready for what’s about to unfold tomorrow. They’re going for (Heeseung’s girl) plan.
“Its still crazy that she thinks she can pull this off.” Jake stated and smirks while looking at Heeseung.
The eldest grins, “Isn’t she adorable? She wants me so bad.”
Jay showed a displeased look on his face. “I’m just happy that it will be easier on our side. She’s digging her own grave.”
“Ah right,” Sunghoon says, “Did you get the pass from Irish? We need to roam around the building tonight to check the vicinity.”
Heeseung nods and pulls out the card from his pocket then handed it to Sunghoon. All of them then called it a day, heading out from their hangout place.
Before Jungwon enters their family car, his phone chimed for a newly received message. A smile made its way to his lips seeing your familiar contact name flashing through his screen. He went inside and his driver gets in too.
He taps his phone and called your number.
“Hi baby, I’m on my way home to you.”
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Cozened Indigo - Part Two
Pairing: Modern!Aemond Targaryen x f!reader Warnings: Mentions of murder, dark themes. Word count: ~4k
Summary: She gets her interview with Aemond, and Larys blows her cover.
Author's note: I have put my journalism degree to use here, to ensure as much accuracy as possible. However, as Westeros is a fictional place, I have warped certain laws and regulations regarding court reporting for the purpose of the story. Please suspend your disbelief for the sake of a fictional tale. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications. Community labels are for cops.
Aemond silently takes a seat, eyeing her carefully as she stands there, rooted to the spot. When she makes no move to do the same, he gives an impatient flick of his wrist, gesturing to the opposite side of the table. Startled out of her daze, she moves quickly, the chair legs scraping loudly against the hard, painted concrete as she pulls it out before sitting down.
His fingers drum slowly against the table top as he watches her place her notepad and pencil upon it.
“You haven’t brought a recording device,” he says.
It’s a statement, not a question, uttered by a voice that slices through the air like a hot knife through butter. Soft, yet possessing a sinister undertone that chills her to her core.
She wets her lips, glancing nervously at him before responding; “recording devices aren’t allowed.”
“They are on media visits.”
Sighing, she flips open her pad, tapping her pencil against the blank page. “The trial is in three weeks, there isn’t time to organise one, there’s too much red tape involved.”
“On a media visit, we would have privacy, our own visitation room. You could record our conversations instead of having to scribble to keep up with what I say.”
He sits back, his spine rigid against the plastic of the chair, and clasps his hands in front of him. She feels like she wants to scream in frustration, it doesn’t seem as though he’s even listening to her.
“We haven’t even introduced ourselves yet,” she tells him, attempting to change the topic in the hopes it will get him talking.
Aemond snorts derisively, though his eye does not reflect the upturn pull of his lips. “You know who I am, I know who you are. I don’t feel there’s any need, unless you’d like to exchange pleasantries? Shall we talk about the weather, perhaps?”
She chews her lip, considering her next words with caution. “You know my name, but you don’t know anything about me. Maybe you’d feel more at ease talking to me if I told you a little about myself?”
He leans forward and, reflexively, she pulls away, her back making a heavy impact with the hard backrest of the chair, as her pencil falls from her grasp onto the tabletop.
“I know you destroyed your career by publishing a story that glorified a criminal, without checking to see if your sources were credible. I’d say I know enough.”
She stares at him, wide-eyed, bile rising in her throat as her breathing grows erratic. She hadn’t anticipated him knowing about that, let alone bringing it up.
He chuckles drily, his posture relaxing as he leans back once more. “You’ve looked into me, dug around in my past, did you not think I’d do a little research of my own? I know all about you.”
“We’re…we’re not here to talk about me,” she stammers, attempting to compose herself as she snatches her pencil back up and sits up straight.
“I’m still deciding if I want to speak to you,” he admits with a shrug.
Her brow furrows in confusion as she narrows her eyes at him. “But you agreed to meet me?”
He gives a slight nod. “I agreed to meet you, yes. I didn’t agree to an interview.”
“Then why agree to see me? You’ve wasted my time.”
“I could say the same of you, waltzing in here, without even the decency to follow the appropriate media procedure, expecting me to spill my guts in front of a room full of rapists and murderers.”
“So you won’t speak to me?”
He pokes at the inside of his cheek with his tongue, appearing to think about her question, the silence feeling as though it could fill the vastness of an ocean.
“You seem��earnest,” he finally says, “get media visitation and you’ll have your interview.”
He slaps the flat of his hand against the top of the table, an indication that the conversation is at its end, and stands, walking slowly back over to the door he had entered through.
As the guard unlocks it, allowing him to leave, he casts one last look at her over his shoulder. It’s a pointed stare, one that lets her know that this isn’t up for debate. It’s no longer a question of if she can get a media visit, it’s when and how.
The moment she’s back on the ferry, she calls Larys, knowing that if anyone can acquire a media visit with any modicum of urgency it will be him. She is relieved when he picks up on the third ring, and she wastes no time in getting straight to the point.
“He won’t speak to me without a media visit.”
“Hello to you too,” he drawls.
She exhales heavily, pinching the bridge of her nose. “The trial is in a few weeks, if I apply for it myself then it’ll take months. I need you to–”
Her phone beeps, the screen going black as her battery dies.
Fuck.
She had forgotten to switch it off before handing it to the guards, and the incoming emails and messages she’d received during her visit had drained it.
It’s evening by the time she gets home, the sun having set long ago on her journey from Dragonstone back to King’s Landing. Eagerly, she plugs her phone in to charge, restlessly tapping her foot as she waits for it to power back on.
Her heart skips, relief flooding her as the screen lights up and she is immediately met with a Whatsapp notification from Larys.
“Have been trying to reach you. Media visit is arranged for the day after tomorrow. Can you make it?”
With shaking fingers, she types back a reply, apologising, explaining her phone had died and confirming her availability. A few minutes later, he responds, telling her he will follow up with further information shortly.
It’s finally happening, she has her interview.
The following morning, her presence in the office feels like a mere farce to fill time, with no intention of starting the Flea Bottom piece, there is no real reason for her to be there, yet she has to keep up appearances until she has copy finalised for the story she actually intends to write. Better to ask for forgiveness than permission in this case.
She decides to fill her time with further background research and laying down the basic introduction for the piece, time is of the essence so it’s better to get a head start where she can. Less than ten minutes have passed when she hears the clearing of a throat behind her. Startled, she minimises her Word document and turns to see Royce looming over her.
“How’s the Flea Bottom piece coming along?” He asks, gesturing towards her computer monitor with his coffee mug.
“Oh…yeah,” she lies, with a tight smile, “making great progress with it, should have copy for you soon.”
He raises an eyebrow, looking at her incredulously, before taking a slow sip of coffee.
“Tell me then, if you are working on the Flea Bottom piece, what are you doing visiting Dragonstone Prison?”
Her face blanches as she stares up at him, her mouth running dry as she thinks of what to say. She has nothing.
“I–”
“My office. Now.”
He turns and strides back towards his small corner office, leaving the door ajar for her to follow.
It feels as though she is trudging through treacle as she makes her way across the newsroom, her heart pounding in her chest as she steps into the figurative lion’s den, expecting to be told her employment is terminated for openly defying a commission from not just her editor, but the editor of the Duskendale Gazette.
Sheepishly, she shuts the door behind her, pressing her back against the wood as her eyes raise to meet Royce’s, who sits behind his desk, visibly seething with annoyance. There’s no use in denying it, so she decides to get straight to the point.
“How did you find out?” She asks, her voice barely above a whisper as she clasps her hands in front of her.
“Larys Strong left a voicemail on the office’s answering machine yesterday evening, confirming your media visit to the prison tomorrow.”
Shit. He must have called the office when he couldn’t get through to her mobile.
He continues before she has a chance to respond. “I’ve told you already, to leave that story alone. Were I a less understanding employer, I’d fire you for insubordination, but I’m willing to be reasonable. You’re to drop whatever it is you’re pursuing and continue with the story you’ve been assigned. Is that clear?”
She sighs, bowing her head momentarily, before stepping towards his desk. Her tone is imploring, her stare pleading as she looks at him. “Royce, Larys Strong is Aemond Targaryen’s legal representation. They’ve chosen me, us, the Duskendale Gazette over all publications to run an exposé on him ahead of the upcoming trial! There is something there, I know there is, you have to let me pursue this. Please!”
Royce groans in frustration, carding his fingers through his dark curls. “You know I can’t allow you to do this, you could be accused of media bias, influencing the jury. That’s not a risk a publication as small as this one can afford to take.”
“The article isn’t going to mention the trial, or the allegations being made. I intend for it to be a profile piece. Aemond has never spoken to the media before, he is incredibly private. This would be an exclusive, we’d be doing something no other newspaper or magazine has done before. It takes months to get a media visit, Larys has gotten me one in two days. It would be stupid to waste this opportunity.”
She takes another step forward, now standing directly behind the chair that occupies the opposite side of Royce’s desk, silently hoping she has said enough to convince him.
He sighs, shoulders sagging slightly, as he regards her with a look of resignation. “I’ll let you do it, but I have conditions.”
Her heart soars, her eyes widening hopefully as she nods enthusiastically. “Anything.”
“You won’t be reporting on the trial itself once it starts. And I want copy in two weeks.”
She recoils at this, given how stony Aemond had been on their first meeting, she knows it will be virtually impossible to get him to say enough to fulfill that sort of deadline. She had been hoping to push right up to the day before the trial began.
“Two weeks?! Royce, that’s not even enough time to get the interviews I’ll need!”
“I’m not taking the risk of being accused of influencing the jury,” he retorts. “Two weeks, or I’m tanking this, got it?”
“Got it,” she replies quietly, her previous elation withering and dying as quickly as it had burst to life.
Two weeks to get Aemond to open up. Two weeks to save her career.
The moment she is out of Royce’s office, she calls Larys, overwhelmed by annoyance at the trouble he has gotten her into and eager to give him a piece of her mind.
“You left a voicemail at my office,” she says irritably, when he eventually picks up.
He hums affirmatively into the receiver. “Well, your mobile was switched off.”
“You’ve gotten me into so much trouble with my boss, he almost pulled the plug on all of this!”
She hears him exhale slowly, pausing before responding. “But he hasn’t, so that’s a good thing.”
“I’m not allowed to report on the trial either, and I have to have the entire piece finished in two weeks.”
“Well, consider it a blessing. Minimal risk of media bias, you now have permission to write the story too. Wouldn’t it be a shame to go to all that effort to have it wasted at the eleventh hour, because your editor won’t approve it?”
Her eyes narrow, her voice lowering in an accusatory tone. “You did this deliberately, didn’t you?”
He lets out a quiet laugh that travels through the phone as a breathy sigh. “There is rarely anything I do that isn’t a calculated choice. I think you’ll find my actions have been mutually beneficial. Good luck with your visitation tomorrow.”
There is a click before the line goes dead. He’s hung up.
She wants to be angry, but she knows he’s right. Without the need for secrecy, this piece will be far easier to write, even with an impossible deadline.
There is a marked difference between this morning’s visit to Dragonstone Prison and the one previous. As soon as she checks in at the ferry terminal, she is ushered towards her own private boat and transported across the Gullet. There is no wait time once she arrives and, though she is searched, she is allowed to keep her electronic devices with her.
The room she is led to is small; plain white walls and a white floor, with only a table and two chairs, the same as the ones in the visitation room, at the centre of it. The blinking red light of a CCTV camera placed in the top corner by the door catches her eye, reminding her of the profundity of her location.
Over the last couple of days, she has been distracted by the stress of Royce finding out what she has secretly been working on, and preparing for the interview, so much so that she has quite forgotten just how foreboding the presence of Aemond Targaryen is.
She is delivered a stark reminder as he is led into the room, clad in the same grey prison scrubs he’d been wearing on her first visit, his wrists handcuffed in front of him. It feels as though all the air leaves the compact space as he enters it. His posture is immutable as always, his head held high, and his gaze immediately fixes upon her, an unmistakable glint in his eye as he stares at her. She stares back, hoping she appears more impassive than she feels, but there is an underlying fear that if he really wanted to hurt her then there is little the cuffs he wears could do to stop him.
“Bang on the door if you need anything,” the guard tells her, breaking her out of her reverie, “you’ve got one hour.”
The fact that there will be someone stationed outside of the door helps her to relax a little and she decides that this time she won’t allow for him to have the upper hand, moving to take her seat before Aemond does, as the guard leaves, locking them both in.
She keeps her attention on the table in front of her, placing her dictaphone in the middle, as Aemond slips into the chair on the opposite side of it.
“How are you today?” She asks, keeping her tone casual as she fiddles with the settings of the recording device.
“Incarcerated,” he answers simply, his voice conveying no emotion.
She sighs, glancing up at him. “I went to the effort to get a media visit, as you requested, I hope you’re feeling a little more talkative today.”
“The effort that Larys went to,” he corrects her. “You seem to forget that you stand to gain something from this too.”
Biting back the heated retort she wants to make, she ignores his comment. “This will be a profile piece, we’re not going to talk about the upcoming trial, we don’t even need to talk about your nephew if you’d prefer not to.”
“A little hard to avoid that,” he says, lips quirking slightly. His cuffs give a metallic clink as he lifts his hands towards his face, tapping at the ragged scar on the left side of his face. “Luke is the reason I have this.”
Her lips part slightly, eyes widening in shock as she stares at him. “Lucerys did that to you?”
Aemond nods, lowering his hands into his lap. “When we were children. It was a petty squabble at a birthday party. I threw the first punch, but he lashed out with a knife, and I’ve been left with a permanent reminder of the fact.
An overwhelming surge of pity courses through her, her face softening as she looks at him. She wants to say something to comfort him, but he stops her before she has the opportunity.
“I don’t need your pity. It’s been fifteen years. Let’s just get on with the interview, time is running out.”
She clears her throat, shifting in her seat as her thumb presses down on the record button of her dictaphone. “Right, let’s start with your childhood.”
The hour vanishes into nothing as she asks Aemond probing questions about what he was like as a child, how his relationship with his family was and what his upbringing was like. A tale of fatherly neglect, of children living in the shadow of their older half sister unfolds as he tells her of how he grew up teased by his older brother, Aegon, and bullied by his nephews, Jacaerys and Lucerys. The only members of his family that he ever received anything close to affection from were his mother and his sister, Helaena.
She pays rapt attention, her heart aches for him, though her sympathy comes in short lived bursts, as every time his knee accidentally grazes hers beneath the table, it chills her blood and causes her skin to break out into gooseflesh. At least she assumes it’s accidental.
They draw to a natural stopping point and she switches the recording device off. The one question she has never asked, that there has been a complete media black out in terms of details, is precisely how Aemond killed Lucerys. Her curiosity gets the better of her and the question passes her lips before she can stop herself.
“How did it happen?”
Aemond tenses, jaw clenching as he stares at her intently. He swallows thickly, then responds, “you mean how did I kill him? I trust that this is off the record?”
She nods, afraid that if she speaks she’ll scare him off of opening up to her.
“I lost control of my car, and I hit him. He died.”
There is no hint of remorse evident in his voice, he responds as though she has asked him for the time. She is struck by how matter of fact he is. Surely, if it was accidental then he’d show even a slither of emotion? Just as she’s about to question him further, the door swings open and the guard informs her that her time is up.
She has barely scratched the surface of Aemond Targaryen, she knows if she is to write a feature that is even half decent she’ll need more time with him. She is grateful that Larys informs her has managed to secure two further media visits, and over the following week she gets to know Aemond better - at least what he is willing to share with her.
He is intelligent, with a keen interest in history and philosophy. He does not share his brother’s love of socialite status, preferring to dedicate his time to reading and fitness. Unwavering in his loyalty to his family, he had taken up a position at his grandfather’s law firm up until the point of his arrest. Aemond Targaryen’s life is one that is shrouded in solitude and tragedy. Aemond embodies pieces of a broken antique vase; the idea of putting him back together is beautiful, but there is the inevitable risk of cutting yourself if you attempt to try.
She does not bring up the death of Lucerys again, telling herself it will be easier to get him to talk if they stick to subjects that don’t make him uncomfortable. However, deep down she knows that she hadn’t liked what she’d heard when she’d asked him the first time, she hadn’t enjoyed the way his response had made her feel. Better to avoid the fear than face it head on.
As their final interview comes to its end, she switches off the dictaphone, expecting a cordial and brief farewell, before the guard re-enters to take Aemond away once more. She is surprised when, after a moment of keeping his gaze fixed on his cuffed wrists that rest on the table in front of him, he looks up at her and asks; “will you be at the trial?”
She pauses momentarily, as she’s slipping her equipment back into her bag, taken aback by his question. “Oh…um…well, I’m not going to be covering it.”
“Doesn’t mean you can’t sit in the public gallery.”
“Are you saying you want me to be there?”
Aemond gives a slight shrug. “You’ve come this far. May as well see it through to the end.”
He’s right, as he frustratingly always seems to be. She responds with a slight nod, moving to stand. She is unsure how exactly to bid him farewell, this is the last time she will ever be in such close proximity to him. Looking at how his wrists are shackled, she knows a hand shake would be inappropriate. She shifts uncomfortably from foot to foot, deciding eventually to keep things formal.
“Well, Larys will provide you with the article once it’s published. Thank you for taking the time to speak to me.”
He grins wolfishly at this, staring up at her intently. “Thank you. I’m sure you’ll make me leap right off the page.”
His words stay with her, echoing in her mind long after she has left the prison. Though her time with Aemond is at its end, she knows his impact upon her is one that will last a lifetime. The intensity of his one eyed stare is forever burned into her mind, the lilt of his voice one that scratches at the recesses of her mind, and with the article still to write she knows she is far from free of him. While Aemond is quite literally imprisoned, he has her trapped in a cell of his own creation, one that she won’t be freed from until the words are on the page.
As she walks to the office, preparing to transcribe her interviews, her phone vibrates in her bag. Pulling it out she sees Larys’ name on her screen, and quickly presses to accept the call. She barely has time to greet him before he begins speaking, and she pushes a finger to her ear to better hear him over the sound of passing traffic.
“Have you got everything you need?” His tone is strained, an undercurrent of urgency in his voice that she’s never heard before.
“As far as my interviews with Aemond are concerned, yes. It would give a more well rounded piece if other members of the family were prepared to talk, but we’ve already established that that’s not an option.”
“Aegon and Helaena have agreed to speak with you,” he informs her quickly.
Her eyes widen in shock, and she ducks down a side street, shifting the phone to the other side of her head, wanting to give him her full attention. “Why the sudden change? What’s happened?”
“Rhaenyra has gotten wind of the fact that Aemond has spoken to the press, so now she’s doing an interview too – with White Knight Magazine.”
Chapter one || Chapter three || Series masterlist
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The Mikaelson Upgrade
When Elijah sends his sister to check on you during a harsh Winter, the Mikaelsons move you in with them.
Words: 7.4K Author’s Note: So, I thought this was so good, but when I started editing it, I realized it was terrible lmao. But I need something to post, and this is the only completed thing I had. Sorry.
With a basket half full of non-perishables and a case of water, you're standing on the opposite side of the grocery store and staring at their small selection of home hardware in hopes of finding something to weatherize your small apartment even further than it already was.
The central heat was out so you're going to be forced to use space heaters and you'd already glued some thin strips of foam all around your doorways to keep the drafts of winds out. This was only going to be your second winter in the apartment so you knew it could get cold, but this winter was predicted to be an extremely cold one and you wanted to be prepared.
The windows weren't the best insulated, so when you heard the trick about bubble wrap being plastered to the windows to help keep the heat in, you figured it was worth a shot. But as you stare at the prices of the different sized rolls, you sigh and realize you might just have to pile all your blankets atop you instead.
"Miss YLN?"
Your name being uttered startles you from your mental musings and you turn to the source. You stand a little taller at the striking figure looking so out of place in the hardware aisle. "Elijah! Hi," you sheepishly grin at him. "How are you?"
His lips twitch. "I'm doing well. And yourself?" He wonders. "I couldn't help but realize you looked quite lost in thought."
Your cheeks burn in embarrassment, but you chuckle nonetheless. "I was trying to determine whether or not it was worth it to buy the bubble wrap."
Elijah looks at the overly large rolls of wrap. "And pray tell what you would need so much bubble wrap for?"
"Winter is coming, Mr. Mikaelson, and I am merely a fragile human." He still doesn't get what you mean, so you elaborate. "I heard bubble wrap on the windows can help keep the cold out. I'm desperate."
"Ah. I see."
It doesn't look like he quite gets it, but you don't call him out on it. Instead, you say, "But I think it's probably cheaper to just hibernate under my blankets."
As you start to push your basket away, Elijah follows. "What about your parents? Surely you could stay with them during this harsh winter."
"Nah." You shake your head. "We're on shaky terms at the moment. My dad barely wanted to give me extra money for groceries, so I rather stay in my shitty apartment than live in a tense atmosphere."
From the corner of your eye you see Elijah looking at you, but you keep your own gaze forward. Then when you come to the checkout lane, he leaves you with, "If you need anything, my siblings and I are only a call away."
"Thanks, Elijah." You glance at him with a small smile. "Say hello to Rebekah and Niklaus for me, will you?"
"I will. Good evening, Miss YLN."
The first night of the winter storm is brutal. Within hours the temperature dropped drastically and the wind howled. Several feet of snow was predicted and your college professors all emailed that classes had been temporarily canceled due to the storm.
You tacked up tarps over your front door and back door, and even the front windows to your living room. You had unplugged every kitchen appliance you knew you weren't going to use and stowed them away, plugging in a small space heater that you left running on the empty kitchen counter. You had one heater in your bedroom that you only used when you slept, another heater in the bathroom that you only turned on before you showered, and another heater running in the living room where you spent most of your time.
All in all, what was once your favorite season is now something you desperately want to hurry up and be over with.
On the third day, you're trembling under three blankets debating whether or not it was worth it to get up and make yourself something to eat.
And just when you've decided that a nap sounds really good, there's a knock on your front door.
You quietly groan but refuse to get up.
Another knock sounds.
"If you're of the immortal population and friendly, then just walk in. It's too cold to get up," you mutter.
You hear the door creak open and the tarp crinkle as it's moved. "What the bloody hell is this?" You huff a laugh at Rebekah's disdain. "Honestly, YN, don't you ever listen?"
"Hmm?"
"Elijah told us about your situation. Klaus has had his minions watching your place-"
"Aw. He's had his hybrids out in this cold? What a dick."
"-and they called to inform us there wasn't much movement in here anymore. We're really worried."
"M'fine, Rebekah."
"You're not fine. You're bloody freezing!"
"Well, it is Winter, and I am only human."
Rebekah grumbles and you can only imagine the face she's making as you hear her footsteps walking around your apartment. "'Lijah said you didn't enjoy your apartment and now I see why." She sighs. "I don't see why he just doesn't make you part of the family already and move you in."
You tense and slowly pull the blankets down from covering your head. "What?"
She glances at you, feigning innocence. "What?"
"You just said-"
"No, I didn't."
"I could've sworn you said-"
"I said no such thing."
You narrow your eyes at your friend and she smiles a little too big. Then softly rolling your eyes, you cover your head once more to preserve your body heat under the blankets. "Well you've seen with your own eyes that I'm fine. I'm just preserving my body heat under the blankets."
The blankets are suddenly ripped from you and you whine. "Get up. Packs your bags. You're coming with me."
"Rebekah, no." You weakly grab for your blankets, only to be denied. "Just let me go to sleep."
She scoffs. "I'm afraid that if you go to sleep, you won't wake up again. Now go pack or I'll have the hybrids do it for you."
Your eyes sting with tears and a lump forms in your throat as you stare at your friend's no-nonsense expression, but you manage to keep your emotions in check as you pull yourself into a seated position. Then very slowly, you wrap a blanket around your shoulders and go do as you're told.
But you're so cold that Rebekah ends up doing everything for you as you sit on the edge of your bed. Your thoughts end up drifting off as Rebekah moves around you, your eyelids feeling heavier and heavier. Eventually you feel yourself slump over, but you're so tired that you can't open your eyes.
You do, however, hear your friend swear before she's talking to someone else. Most likely on the phone, your mind supplies. Then you're being lifted and moved so suddenly, only to be placed down in a seat. You're cold all over again, but then you hear a car heater get turned on full blast.
"Hold on, YN. I'll get you home and you'll feel better soon."
. . . .
When you're thrust back into consciousness, the first thing you hear is a crackling fire. Your eyelids flutter open and you find yourself in an unfamiliar room. Your confusion momentarily overrides your sheer terror at not knowing where you're at, but then the soothing baritones of a familiar voice instantly calms you.
"I thought I made it clear that you were to call should you need anything." You turn your head to find Elijah sitting by your bedside. "Rebekah doesn't think you'd have made it another night had you stayed in your apartment. She said your heart rate slowed down while she was packing your clothes and you passed out. You should have called."
You know Elijah is not scolding you, he's just stating facts, but hearing it so plainly scares you. Your bottom lip trembles as your eyes fill with tears and you quickly cover your eyes with your hands before the tears can fall. "I'm sorry." You sniffle. "I just- I didn't-" You shakily exhale and try to swallow down the lump in your throat.
A hand gently wraps around your right wrist, tugging your hand from your face. "It's fine. You're here now."
Your heart starts to pick up speed at his proximity, he having leaned forward. "I didn't think it'd be this hard," you murmur.
"Didn't think what would be so hard?"
"Being an adult." You sniffle some more. "I took a lot of stuff for granted while I was under my parent's roof and now? Struggling to make ends meet while being a college student absolutely blows."
Elijah's lips twitch at the sight of your pout. His eyes twinkle in the firelight and your breath hitches when he raises your hand to his mouth, his lips pressing a kiss to your knuckles. "Well now you're under my roof. Sleep. And when you wake up, this room has its own private bath with all the hot water you can use up and all the food you could want down in the kitchen."
"That sounds nice." Your blinks get longer and longer until you eventually can't keep your eyes open anymore. "'Lijah?" You sleepily slur.
"Yes?"
"You're my favorite Mikaelson. Don't tell the others."
Right before the void takes you, you hear muffled laughter. "I won't. You have my word."
The next time you wake up, you remember where you are and hurry to the windows to look outside. What you see is beautiful, pure white everywhere, but it's also a bit scary because the longer you look at the snow, the quicker Elijah's words come back to haunt you.
Rebekah doesn't think you'd have made it another night had you stayed in your apartment.
This is the most snow you've ever seen in your life and you're suddenly really grateful for nosy friends. As you turn around to face away from the too white picture, you see an opened door leading to a bathroom. Elijah's other words float to the forefront of your mind and you immediately look around for your bags. But finding none anywhere leads you to scope out the dresser drawers and sure enough your clothes have all been folded and put away.
Shaking your head and what was no doubt Rebekah's doing, you gather a change of clothes and head into the bathroom. It's one of the most luxurious bathrooms you've ever seen, but then again these are vampires who are over a thousand years old. Of course they'd splurge to have only the best.
Once you locate the towels and realize the shower stall has everything you'd need, you turn on the hot water and strip the second you see steam rising.
The hot shower is absolute bliss and you almost don't want to get out once you're done. But other needs must be met when your stomach starts to grumble, so you get out and dress in a set of comfortable clothes that's both warm and presentable enough to be in the company of others.
When you eventually find your way to the kitchen, all three Mikaelson siblings are hanging around. Elijah is reading the newspaper, enjoying either a cup of coffee or tea, Rebekah is staring into the refrigerator, but Klaus is smirking directly at you.
"So Sleeping Beauty finally awakens."
"Very funny, Niklaus." You wrinkle your nose as you pass him, offering a small grin as you make your way towards Rebekah. You wrap your arms around her waist from behind, leaning the side of your face against her back. "Please tell me you guys have ramen? I want all the ramen in the world right now."
"We do. Do you want me to make you some?"
"I've got it. Just point me in the direction of the pots and ramen."
As you put a small pot of water to boil, you go through the cabinets to find some spices to season the ramen better. You pull out two slices of cheese from the refrigerator and then drop the noodles into water. You wait patiently for the noodles to become tender and then drain most of the water out. You add in all the seasoning before tossing the cheese atop the noodles, mixing it until it's all melted.
"That doesn't look like the ramen on the packaging," Rebekah says as she looks over your shoulder.
"Because when you're on a budget and your daily meals consist of ramen, you find ways to spruce it up," you muse. "Wanna try?"
"No, thank you."
"Elijah? Niklaus?" You then offer them some.
Elijah politely refuses whereas Klaus' nose wrinkles. "Smells foul, love."
"Really? It smells foul to the person who prefers munching on the hearts of those who betray him?" Klaus chuckles before quickly deciding to take his leave, claiming to have people to torment. Rebekah sighs and grumbles about going with him to make sure he doesn't get into too much trouble, and Elijah just grins from his place at the table. "Would you like some company?" You sheepishly ask.
"Please, be my guest."
Putting some noodles into a bowl, you grab a fork and then a bottled water from the refrigerator before setting it all down atop the table. Then pulling out your own seat, you sit cross legged before digging in.
At the first bite, you smile with your cheeks puffed out and happily wiggle in your seat.
Elijah chuckles. "Good?"
"Mhm." You twirl some more noodles on your fork before blowing on them and then shoving them into your mouth. With another groan, you grab a napkin to dab at your mouth before sipping your water. "I'm a pasta girl, in case you haven't noticed. I will try any pasta dish at least once and then repeatedly if I like it."
"Noted." Elijah smiles at you before his eyes fall back to the paper in his hands. After a moment, he asks, "So was the bedroom to your liking?"
"Yes! Thank you." You perk up a little, grinning. "I hadn't seen that room before, so I was a little confused when I woke up."
"I know. Your heart started to beat frantically before I spoke up."
"Ahh, the perks of being a vampire," you muse. Elijah chuckles and then the two of you fall into silence as he reads and you eat.
You finish your meal without any more interruptions and then walk over to the sink to wash your dishes.
"You know we have a dishwasher, correct?"
"Yes, but I like to do things by hand. Keeps me moving since I have no idea what to do here now that I'm not secluded to the couch for warmth."
"What about your classes?"
"Canceled." Turning off the water, you grab a towel to dry your hands. "Well, at least in-person classes had been canceled. Maybe I should check my email to make sure there are no online assignments that need to be completed."
"Yes, you wouldn't want to fall behind."
You blow a raspberry in his direction before leaving the kitchen and heading for your temporary room to collect your laptop to see if there's anything that needs to be completed.
On your third day with the Mikaelsons, you've taken over their library as you attempted to complete an essay one of your professors had assigned since the campus was still closed. Elijah consistently made appearances, grabbing a book and reading quietly as you researched and typed, and Klaus showed up occasionally to paint while you worked. Rebekah was the only one to drop in for minutes at a time, just long enough to make sure you took a break and gave your brain a rest.
You're reading through one of the many journals Elijah had hoarded from centuries ago when your cell phone dings with a text message. You ignore it, but then it dings again.
And again.
And again.
"Are you going to get that?" Elijah asks.
You startle at his voice, momentarily forgetting you weren't alone. "Yeah. I guess so." The text messages just keep popping up, one right after another, and you try to read them as quickly as you can. "What the-" You frown.
"What seems to be the problem?"
"I'm not sure. Caroline, Bonnie, and Matt.. they seem worried, I think," you tell him. "Each of them asking where I'm at and if I'm okay and-" Your cell ringing cuts you off. "My dad's calling." You quickly accept it. "Hello?"
"WHERE ARE YOU?!"
You flinch at the volume of his voice and even Elijah looks up from his book. "Dad? I'm- I'm at a friend's place. The apartment got too cold. Why? What's-"
"Your apartment is on fire!" Your head turns to quickly look at Elijah and he seems just as surprised as you. "We all thought you were inside. No one knew-" His voice cuts off with a sob.
"Dad, I'm okay. I'm fine." He continues to cry, and you do your best to console him. "How did a fire even start? I unplugged everything." You try to listen to your dad, but his blubbering is making no sense. But as you're on the phone with him, Klaus saunters into the room. As he passes you, you can't help but inhale deeply and then narrow your eyes. You know that smell. "Dad, let me call you back. I'll get to the apartment as soon as I can." You hang up and set your phone aside, leaning back into your seat with a sigh. "Niklaus, what did you do?"
"I have no idea what you're talking about, love."
You look at Elijah, exasperated. "I believe Miss YLN is talking about the fact that you smell like smoke after she just got a very frantic phone call from her father who didn't know if she was dead or alive because her apartment is currently up in flames."
Rebekah saunters in next, expression a little too smug.
"Rebekah, please tell me you didn't have a hand in this either?"
"Well, it's not like you'd move in here otherwise." Her smug expression falls. "We did you a favor."
"You made me homeless," you deadpan. Then glancing at Elijah, you ask, "Can you take me over there? I need to see the damage."
"Of course."
"YN, we didn't-"
"I assure you we meant no harm," Klaus says. "We just thought-"
"I know what you thought, but you could have literally talked to me about leaving my shitty apartment rather than burn it down." Rebekah looks put out that you're not thanking her, and Klaus doesn't look apologetic at all, but it still makes you assure both of them that you're not angry. "I'm not mad, I'm just-" You trail off, sighing. "Please tell me you at least took out all my valuables before you set everything ablaze?"
Rebekah scoffs. "We're not amateurs. I took anything that might have sentimental value, all your clothes and all your electronics out the first night I brought you here."
You shake your head, unable to help the twitch of your lips. "You guys have been alive way too long if you thought burning down my apartment was the best way to approach me with the idea of moving in here." The two troublesome Mikaelsons start to grin when they realize you're not truly upset with them. "Now when we get back, I want all the chicken nuggets and fries from McDonalds."
"But the closest McDonalds is about twenty minutes away," Rebekah says.
"Then drive fast." Finally standing, you look to Elijah. "Ready?"
He nods. "After you."
. . . .
The street you live on- er, used to live on- is packed with police cars, an ambulance, and two different fire trucks. The street has been taped off, but after Elijah parks and the two of you approach the officers keeping nosy individuals away, you tell them that it's your apartment up in flames and they let the two of you pass.
Across the street from your burning apartment, your dad stands there with more police officers. You make a beeline for him, accepting his hug and giving the police your statement. Elijah stands by your side as you answer everything you're asked, giving his own statement to back up your claim that you had left the apartment days earlier.
When the questions are done and over with, you're left to helplessly watch as the fire devours the place you've known as home for the last two years. When part of the roof collapses and you flinch, Elijah tucks you under an arm and turns you so your face is pressed against his chest.
"Miss?" Elijah releases his hold on you and nudges you so you turn around. There's a firefighter addressing you. "Are you the owner?"
"I rent," you tell him. "The landlord is elderly. They wouldn't be out here."
"Oh. Okay. Um, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I think the house is gonna be a total loss. I'm sorry."
"Figures." You sigh and then paste on a smile. "Thank you."
Just as you turn back towards Elijah, you hear your father sigh next. "Well, I guess this means you'll be moving back in until you find another decent apartment."
"Wow, dad, don't sound too enthused now," you deadpan.
He glowers at you before looking back at the dwindling fire, shaking his head. "Your mother won't be too happy that she'll have to put all her sewing supplies into storage, but I guess we'll just have to make do."
"You know what-"
"Mr. YLN," Elijah smoothly steps in, offering your dad a hand to shake. "I'm Elijah Mikaelson. It's nice to finally meet you, sir." Your dad seems to stand a little taller, puffing out his chest as he takes Elijah in before shaking his hand. "I just want to assure you that you and your wife have nothing to worry about. My family and I will happily take in YN. My sister thinks of her fondly and we have more than enough space for her to stay with us."
"Mikaelson, huh? Your family built that fancy mansion a few years back, right?"
Your eyes roll as you groan, "Dad."
But Elijah only smirks. "Yes, sir."
"Hmm." Your dad huffs. But seeing this as the perfect outcome, he then says, "Well if there's anything my daughter needs to attribute to, I'm sure I can offer some-"
"There's no need. All expenses for your daughter will be covered by my family and I."
You can see the relief obviously wash over your dad and it pains you just a little that he so easily let someone else take care of you. You're pretty sure if one of your older siblings needed help, your parents would move Heaven and Earth for them. But for you? Apparently, your old room was just too much to ask for. "And on that note, Elijah and I will be going." You glance at your apartment, swallowing down the sadness threatening to overwhelm you. "There's nothing left for me here anyway."
Suddenly reaching for Elijah's hand, you start to tug him in the direction of his car. You wave at your dad over your shoulder, barely uttering a goodbye to him.
And then once you're in the quiet of Elijah's car, he asks, "Are you okay?"
"Not really, but what can I do?" You shrug. "Can you just drive? I don't want to be here anymore."
"Of course."
He turns the heater up in the car when he hears your teeth chatter, and you wrap your jacket around you more tightly. You let the warmth wash over you and allow your eyes to close, only opening them when he quietly tells you that you're back home.
Home.
Your eyes snap open as you stare up at the Mikaelson mansion.
Home.
You giggle in disbelief as your mind tries to comprehend how once you were enemies with the Mikaelson family, and now here you sit in the company of one as he calls his home your home as well.
Home.
"I guess this is home now, huh?"
"Yes."
Your lips twitch in amusement. "Then let's get inside. Rebekah and Niklaus better have my chicken nuggets ready for me to devour."
Elijah chuckles before using his vampire speed to exit his side of the car, only to end up on your side to open the door for you. He offers you a hand so you can easily climb on out as he grins at you. "And fries. You can't forget those."
"It'd be blasphemous to forget the salty, potato-y goodness which means I can almost guarantee Niklaus forgot them because he likes to see me suffer." You sigh sadly with a shake of your head. "Do you think the waterworks will get me dessert?"
"It's worth a shot. Shall we?"
As Elijah then offers you the crook of his arm, you hook your arm with his. "We shall."
As it turns out, Niklaus or Rebekah didn't forget the french fries. The table was laden with multiple boxes of nuggets and cartons of fries, and when Rebekah produced the small fried apple pies, you nearly cried.
Nearly.
The snow eventually tapers off as the temperatures settle back into what they usually are around this time of year, and classes resume in person. You have no issue driving yourself to and from school, but when your car starts to rattle and the vampires in your life urge you to take it into the shop, Elijah has no issue driving you to and from the college campus.
And though you were skeptical about living with the Mikaelsons in the beginning and had to deal with conversation after conversation from Bonnie and Caroline, you find yourself enjoying the freedom that comes with not having to worry about bills or what your next meal is going to be.
In fact, you get so comfortable that more often than not, Klaus or Rebekah find you cuddled up next to Elijah as you read a book or with your legs draped over his lap as he reads and you work on something on your laptop. They always shoot you knowing grins, but you wave them off and throw all your focus into your assignments.
One morning, as you're making yourself some breakfast, Rebekah saunters into the kitchen.
"Oatmeal and berries?" She asks.
"Mhm. Want some?"
"No, thanks." You take your bowl to the island bar where your laptop sits open on a document you're meant to be reading and take a seat on a stool. Before you can even get the first spoonful of warm gooeyness into your mouth, you hear Rebekah ask, "So where's my brother?"
You freeze with the spoon halfway to your mouth. "First of all, you have two brothers. And second, how should I know? I'm not either of their keepers."
"Elijah, darling. Do keep up."
"Oh." You shove the spoon of oatmeal into your mouth and shrug. "I dunno. He said something about meeting with someone and that he'd see me later."
"Mhmmm." You can feel the heat of her stare boring into the side of your head and busy yourself momentarily with your oatmeal and berries. "Can I ask you something?"
"You're gonna ask it either way, so yeah. Go ahead."
"Why Elijah and not Niklaus?" You inhale in surprise, choke on a berry, and immediately reach for your coffee. Only that seems to be a mistake as the drink is still too hot and you end up spluttering the coffee and oatmeal down the front of your shirt. Rebekah laughs.
"Goddammit, Rebekah!"
"It's a simple question."
"Yeah, I know, but-" You take the napkins she's offering you and sigh when you see your shirt is stained after dabbing away the mess.
"Well?"
"Well, what?"
"Why Elijah and not Niklaus?" She asks again.
When you glance up at her, you see her amused grin and know she won't let this go. You're pretty sure the crush you have on Elijah is obvious to everyone under the Mikaelson roof, but Elijah's polite enough to not bring attention to it, so you settle for telling her the truth. "Don't get me wrong, both your brothers are smoking hot."
"But…?"
"But Niklaus is too chaotic for me. It's fun to hear about the drama he stirs up, but not so much when you're dragged into it. And Elijah… Elijah has this calm aura to him and can hold a serious conversation that doesn't devolve into murderous schemes unless it's to protect someone he holds near and dear. I just- I don't know. I'm more at ease around Elijah."
"Well, that's harsh, love." You freeze, Rebekah smirks, and you slowly turn to find both brothers standing there under the archway. Klaus' expression matches Rebekah's whereas Elijah is smiling a little guiltily. Knowing you were set up to admit that aloud, you sigh and go back to your oatmeal, but not before glaring at Rebekah. "I hate you."
"Pure lies," she muses. "And you're welcome."
"That's enough, Rebekah," Elijah calls out. "Let us leave Miss YLN be while she finishes her breakfast and her work. I'm sure you have locals to terrorize."
Rebekah rolls her eyes with a sigh and your lips twitch as she reluctantly leaves you be. You glance over your shoulder at Klaus, only for him to wiggle his eyebrows at you before following Rebekah.
And then when you look at Elijah, he grins. "Shall we talk when you're ready?"
"What if I'm never ready?"
"You will be."
"No need to sound so smug."
"How can I not be when I can hear your heartbeat race?" Your face starts to flame. "Or easily detect when the blood rushes through your veins?"
"Okay, I get it." You shift nervously in your seat. "We'll talk soon, just not right now." Elijah nods. "Now get out of here before I demote you to Mikaelson #2."
"Now we all know that's a bold-faced lie." You narrow your eyes at his smirk. "But I will leave you be. Until then…"
As Elijah takes his leave, you heave a great sigh. With your heart racing and face feeling more than a little warm, you try your best to focus on finishing your food and the passage you're meant to be reading.
For a week, every time Elijah walks into a room that you're in, you can't help the way your heart speeds up. Every vampire in the house does their best to hide their amused smiles, but you see them nonetheless and stew in your embarrassment until you finally realize you have nothing to be embarrassed about.
Elijah knows of your attraction towards him and wants to speak of it rather than immediately turning you down. So, in your book, that's a positive sign that he feels the same.
Hopefully.
Then by the second week, you're back to sharing the library with Elijah as you work, and he reads. And it's during this week that you end up with your head resting on his thigh as you attempt to read a non-school related book, only to end up sighing as you let the book fall closed over your chest.
"So, vampirism…" You say, waiting until you know you have his attention. When he hums, your lips twitch. "What's your take on it?"
"What do you mean?"
"I've met some vampires who are all about vampirism and only have good things to say about becoming one, but I've also met vampires who completely hate what they are and the thought of creating more." You look up at him, shrugging. "I know you're completely fine with your existence and other vampires, but what's your take on me possibly becoming one?"
He tenses and immediately looks down to meet your gaze. "Is that- is that something you want?"
"What's the point in pursuing a relationship with a vampire if I'm human? I'll age, you won't."
"Would becoming a vampire solely be based on the fact whether or not we pursue a relationship?"
You snort. "No."
"No?"
"No." You sit up, but don't move too far. You turn so your body is angled towards the smartly dressed vampire you'd just been using as a pillow. "Elijah, I've been thinking about vampirism for a long time now. I've just been too chicken to ask for it."
"Why?"
"Healthcare is expensive." Elijah's expression slackens in surprise and you grin. "I'd like to live a life without worrying about throwing myself into debt just because I get an infection or need surgery."
"So, you'd want to become a vampire, not for the everlasting youth or powers or to date another vampire, but because you don't want to pay for healthcare?"
"Yep."
Elijah laughs. "Oh sweetheart, you are something else."
"Mhm. But no turning until after I've graduated. I don't want to attend classes and accidentally kill another student for annoying me."
"If that's what you wish, then we'll revisit this discussion later on down the line."
"Okay. But first I just need to see what I'm missing out on." Elijah must have been anticipating your next move because he merely smiles as you lean forward, one knee digging into the couch cushion as you then lean over him. Your hands gently grasp either side of his face so you can kiss him, and you quietly groan when he immediately grants your tongue entrance. His hands reach for your waist, guiding you towards him until you're perched on his lap. "Fuck."
You barely pull back just enough to catch your breath, your hands settling on his shoulders while his hand reaches up to trace the left side of your face. "Is your curiosity sated?"
"For now." You lean in to peck his lips once more and then pull back, reluctantly climbing off his lap. "Now I'm gonna go take a cold shower less I say something stupid and beg you to take me to bed."
He grins at you. "I see no issue with you begging."
"I'm sure you don't." You return his teasing grin. "But when our first time together happens, I want all of you. I don't want you holding back."
"Graduation is still a ways away," he muses. "Are you capable of that much restraint?"
You allow your gaze to look him up and down, and swipe your tongue across your bottom lip. Elijah smirks as you sigh wistfully and then you shake your head clear and head for the exit. "I'm gonna have to invest in a goddamn vibrator."
Elijah's laugh follows you all the way up the stairs.
As the months pass, you do your best to keep things calm between you and Elijah, but the tension between the two of you only continues to thicken. In fact, it isn't long before his siblings figure out something has happened. Klaus is the first to realize, but Elijah is a pro at redirecting the conversation and you only manage a whimper when his attention turns to you. And then when Rebekah picks up on what's going on around her, it isn't long until you cave and blurt out your entire conversation with Elijah, as well as the kiss.
Rebekah thinks it's cute that you're putting yourself through so much torture just so her brother can properly rail you into the mattress, and Klaus takes great pleasure in teasing the two of you.
But you hold strong, only slipping up here and there when Elijah looks just too good for you to resist, but never actually sleep with him. He takes what you give, chuckling when you whimper and groan when you have to walk yourself back to your room.
Graduation is then upon you and your family surprises you by showing up since you hadn't really spoken to any of them since your apartment burned to the ground. You're subjected to dinner with them, which means the Mikaelsons are subjected to dinner as well since you strongly urge them to tag along, and it's an all-around awkward night.
Your mother then manages to turn the dinner into a tense one by asking what kind of career you're going into with your chosen degree, and Elijah is quick to shut that conversation down by telling your mother you have a year to think on it since he has an all-expenses paid vacation planned for you after you've studied your ass off these last few years. That, in turn, leads to your mother scoffing and quietly berating you for riding your boyfriend's coattails, and Klaus stuns everyone by basically calling your mother a jealous cunt.
Graduation night ends with Elijah and Rebekah having to compel your family to forget the tense moments.
Days later you're surprised to learn that the vacation Elijah told your mother is actually real, and Rebekah helps you pack even though she won't be going on this trip with you- it's just you and Elijah.
Flying first class is an experience you'll never forget, nor the trip Elijah took care to plan so you could see the world and experience different cultures.
One Year Later
It's been a while since you've stepped foot in Mystic Falls and you're unsurprised that it's unchanged. Small towns are filled with people with small minds, and no one liked change when your town was as pretty as Mystic Falls.
Elijah opens your door when he parks in front of your home, and you take his hand as you climb out. Then leaning up, you press a kiss of thanks to his lips before moving past him.
"Happy to be home?" He asks.
"Yes. As much as I loved traveling the world with you, there's just something about my own bed that I was missing."
"Well, you're going to continue to miss it because you'll be moving into my room."
Your eyes roll fondly. "And you call me the impatient one."
"Yes, well…" Elijah steps right in front of you, tilting your head upward so his thumb drags your bottom lip from between your teeth. "Can you blame me?"
"Nope. I know I'm adorable."
Chuckling, he places another quick kiss to your lips. "That you are. Now let's get inside. I'll get some of Niklaus' associates to bring in our bags."
"I'm only agreeing with you right now because I want to see your siblings. Otherwise, I'd be grabbing my own bags."
"If you say so, sweetheart."
Stepping back, you practically skip to the front door and throw it open. "Honey, we're home!" You call out.
Your moment of happiness is interrupted when a hand is immediately wrapped around your throat, and you're slammed into a wall. It all happens within a split second and your eyes widen as you see Damon Salvatore hiss in your face, only to then find three very pissed off Mikaelson's at his back. "You won't heal Elena? Maybe you need a little motivation then." Damon growls, shaking you a little.
Your hands grasp at Damon's wrist, nails raking against the exposed skin there. "W-What?"
"Your new little family is refusing to help Elena," he sneers. "Maybe if their pet human is threatened, then maybe we'll get somewhere."
You make a show of being in discomfort with his hand around your neck before you cave and laugh. Klaus and Rebekah freeze, and Elijah loosens his stance as he slowly grins at you. "So, Elena decided to be a dumbass and now you want the Originals to clean up her mess? What'd she do now?"
"Got herself bitten by a little wolf," Rebekah hesitantly muses. "How are you-"
But Damon frowns as he quickly looks you up and down. "Why are you laughing?" He squeezes your throat a little tighter, but it merely causes your smile to grow.
"Because you underestimate me, Mr. Salvatore." Your smile vanishes just as quickly as you grab his wrist in your own grasp, snapping it backwards and sending the vampire to his knees. Then with a swift kick to his chest, you send him sailing across the room. "You underestimated me as a human and now you underestimate me as a vampire. Never put your hands on me again."
Damon is quick to speed to his feet, cradling his already healing limb as he stares at you in disgust. Rebekah and Klaus, however, look prouder than ever as Elijah walks up to your side, letting his fingers trace one side of your face before he kisses your forehead.
"So, you're a vampire now?" Damon huffs. "All that means is that when your guard dogs aren't around, I can torture you now without your pathetic little heart giving out."
"And that's where you're wrong." Using your newfound speed, you manage to make a dent in the wall where you shove Damon against before tossing him into the glass coffee table and shattering it. Then standing over him, you place your foot on his chest to prevent him from getting up. "You see, Elijah has always known I'd be a target for fools like you. So, when I turned, some of his friends who were looking for a favor from the noble Original made it so I also have the strength of an Original." You slowly smirk as reality sinks in for Damon. "So, you can come at me all you want, but I'll just end up putting you on your ass again and again and again."
He struggles to get out from under you, but you put more pressure on his chest to keep him in place. "Elena's your friend. You should want to help her!"
"Wrong. She stopped being my friend the moment her dumbass ended up sired to your sorry ass. Her messes are her own." You press down on his chest again until he groans and then speed back to Elijah's side where you end up tucked beneath his arm. Then glancing at Klaus, you smile sheepishly, "Sorry about the wall and table. I'll do my best to replace it."
Klaus' dimples are on full display before he lets his laugh echo around the room. Rebekah's tinkling laugh isn't too far behind. "Welcome to the family, love. And don't worry about the mess. Watching you throw around Damon was spectacular." You grin as you hear Damon huff and then Klaus turns to him. "Just this once, Salvatore. I'll help you just this once because YN has put me in a better mood. Any future bites and your doppelganger is dead."
"Fine. We'll take it."
As Klaus disappears with Damon, you turn to Rebekah who has her arms crossed over her chest and hip cocked to the side. "So how long did you last?"
"Three months."
Her eyebrow arches. "Only three?"
"I could have gone longer, but I might have goaded your brother."
"With what?"
"Rebekah, I don't think-"
You slowly smirk at her. "I told him I had this fantasy of him bending me over the railing at the top of the Eiffel Tower and he cracked. He made preparations for my turning almost as soon as we got back to our hotel."
"Okay that's enough." Elijah scoops you up just as his sister cackles and you find yourself being tossed on his bed a moment later as he crawls over you. As you grin up at him, he asks, "Did you have to share that with her?"
"Girls talk, handsome. Get used to it." You lean up, kissing him. "And besides, you're lucky Niklaus wasn't here."
"Rebekah will tell him."
"And he'll tease us until you and I decide to christen every surface in this room." You kiss again. "And the library." Another kiss. "And maybe even the kitchen."
"YOU WILL NOT BRING YOUR NAKED SELVES INTO THIS KITCHEN!" Rebekah's shout interrupts your final kiss, and you laugh as you fall back against the bed.
"Let him tease. He's the one who'll have to listen to us."
"AND ME!"
You giggle as Elijah sighs, lowering his body over you so he can rest his forehead against yours. "Maybe I should build another house for us."
"Absolutely not. I love you and I love your family. If we have to deal with them teasing us about our sex life, then so be it. It's not like they're so innocent themselves."
"You love me?"
"Always." You kiss him. "Now get up. I say the first place we christen is that fancy bathroom of yours."
Elijah is up within a split second, tugging you along.
Downstairs, Rebekah is fixing herself a mug of tea and blood when your giggles reach her ears. The giggles soon turn into a moan, and she grimaces. "Bloody hell. If I knew they were going to be this randy, I'd have invested in noise canceling headphones."
#elijah x reader#elijah mikaelson x reader#elijah mikaelson imagine#elijah mikaelson fanfiction#the vampire diaries imagine#vampire diaries imagine#the originals imagine#the originals fanfiction#elijah mikaelson#rebekah mikaelson#klaus mikaelson#the vampire diaries#vampire diaries#the originals
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London Calling | KNJ
Pairing: Namjoon x Vixen
Wordcount: 3.1k
Genre: Fluff, smut, pwp, established relationship!AU, idol!Au, Married!AU
Rating: 18+; minors, please do not interact
Synopsis: Vixen has decided to distract herself from Namjoon's incumbent enlistment by focusing on her job. She has accepted adding more international works to her portfolio and is currently in London; too bad Namjoon can't help but post risqué pictures on his Instagram, and it really seems he's doing so to try and get her attention.
Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Swearing, Fear of infidelity, Nostalgia. Extremely mild DDLG dynamics, Babygirl!Vixen, Brat!Vixen, Phone sex, Masturbation, Dirty talking. Mentions of: Oral sex (both male and female receiving), Lingerie kink, Sex toys, Spanking. Oh, and one of Joon's friends simps for Vixen.
As usual, you can find my masterlist right here! I wouldn't mind if you took a few seconds to leave a comment or reblog my fic 🥰 Also, my requests are always open!!!
Enjoy 💜✨
“Been hearing someone’s on their worst behaviour.”
Namjoon’s chuckle on the opposite end of the line is everything you need to know. “What can I say, my last moral anchor is busy girlbossing around the world.” He licks his lips and sits down on the sofa, his friends messing around his kitchen, beers and liquors spread around your marble counter. “I’m missing my lucky star.”
“Your guardian angel.”
“My only angel,” he flirts.
The game is back on between you and Namjoon. Ever since you decided to stop waiting around for his enlistment and have started accepting international projects on your portfolio, it’s like no matter where either of you are, it’s always time to flirt on the phone.
Or mess around even more.
He’s touched down in London for you about two weeks ago, showing up at your hotel room with an Agent Provocateur bag dangling from his pretty fingers and the kind of smile that always gets you shimmying out of your panties.
“What are you up to, love? What time is it over there?”
“Uh-huh. I’m the one doing the asking here, mister.”
He puts his glass back on the coffee table, and leans over with his elbows on his knees. “I’m just trying to feed my imagination, little fox. What’s a boy to do, with an empty bed and a sexy wife on the other side of the world?”
“I don’t know, maybe be more careful before talking talks he can’t walk?” you suggest.
He lowers his voice before saying, “You’d be over my knee right now, you know?”
You decide to talk back, just to mess him up further. Your voice is like midnight fog when you tell him, “you’d have to catch me first.”
He steals a glance towards the kitchen. This feels an awful lot like when the two of you began hanging out — the secrecy, the craving, the distance, and the pining. Except this time you have rings on your hands and there’s no doubting loyalty, not on his nor your behalf.
He toys with his own ring, tracing it with his thumb, twisting it a little to the left, then to the right, back and forth.
“It seems you appreciated that quick leak…”
You click your tongue. “One of these days you’re gonna end up naked in those pics and I’ll have to come home to do damage control.”
“Is that all it takes to have you back home? I miss my territorial little vixen.” He stares at your stash of books in the bookshelf, standing tall right next to his, but looking twice more put together.
“I’ve noticed you’ve been acting sluttier lately.”
“At least I haven’t gone entirely shirtless yet.” He picks up the glass again and you hear him swallowing through the line. “Unlike some of my friends. You should consider yourself lucky.”
“Lucky, you say?”
He hears the sound of a glass being put down. “Are you drinking, babygirl?”
You cock an eyebrow and stare at your glass of red wine. “I’m dined and wined. You know which bit is missing. But it seems you’re not that deserving.”
“What did you eat?” He doesn’t grant you the courtesy of winning this sensual verbal sparring. That tiny comment about being dined and wined was a trap, he can tell. Looking so casual and half-hearted can only mean you expected him to go there, and if he does, he’ll probably end up right where you wanted him.
He can do better.
“I had a steak. With a lovely truffle cream. I’ll have to make it for you next time you’re around.” Your reply comes off beat, and he smiles, happy that he caught you off guard.
If this were a match of martial arts, you’d be dwindling a little, your balance compromised. “I’d love to. Miss your tiramisu. Your cheesecake. Your aglio e olio. Your sweet little ass working around the kitchen.”
You laugh, the sound as bright and heartstopping as ever. Blood rushes to his cheeks. He loves making you laugh. “You got the guys over, I assume? Four in the morning?”
“We just finished working. Like maybe an hour ago or so.” He can’t keep calm anymore. Everytime you call him when he’s home, his gaze keeps wandering to every piece of it that belongs to you.
Sometimes it’s suffocating. Sometimes he sleeps back at the studio. Sometimes he stays over at other people’s places.
Now it’s the portrait of your orchids that you had commissioned for him. It sits next to his bonsais, so he can think of your collection each time he’s watering his own.
Sometimes he wonders who is whose subtext, because at times he thinks you’re the one who picked up habits from him, other times he thinks it’s him who accidentally got into certain hobbies through the years so he could be your exact shadow once the two of you finally met and aligned.
“Also, you’re calling at four in the morning,” he observes. “Oh…” He rubs the back of his head, then plops back on the sofa, as if he were deflating slowly. “Right. I’m your booty call.” He chuckles. “Almost forgot.”
“I can find someone else in a more suitable time zone, if that sits well with you,” you reply, your tone just a tiny bit annoyed. His nonchalance irks you just a little.
“That your sneaky link, man?” you hear someone holler on his side.
“So now I’m miss sneaky link, huh? Not bad, mister booty call.” You click your tongue. “I’ll leave you to your friends. I thought you were alone, didn’t mean to disturb.” This could be your chance to win this match.
“No, don’t go because they’re about to. Kind of right now,” he says, looking towards the kitchen and nodding towards the door. “Sorry guys. Vixen’s rule.”
“He don’t deserve you, honey,” one of his friends calls. “Just one chance, miss. Kindly.”
“We’re literally married,” he tells the guy, then to you, “Bum says hi.”
“Oh, hi sweetie. What are your thoughts on the London timezone?” you ask, coquettishly.
“Careful, fox.” Namjoon’s voice is stern when it comes on. It makes you sit taller on your seat, redirecting the pressure in between your thighs. “And you’d better not reply, Bum.”
The guy stares at Namjoon as he says. “For you, anything, my queen. Though, from personal experience, it’s excellent for your late nights and our early mornings. If you know you know,” Bum suggests.
Namjoon slaps the guy’s back with the most sarcastic smile on his face. “Time to go, dude.”
“Starcrossed lovers, that’s our fate, my queen.”
You laugh loudly and Namjoon is a little annoyed. “All the great loves are those that never happened, Bum.”
“Guys, I’m literally right here!?” Namjoon says, embarrassed and just a tad annoyed. “You, get out of my house. And stop trying to seduce my wife.”
“Bum, can you keep an eye on him? Kinda worried I might not be the only sneaky link of his.” You joke about it, but deep down, there’s always a sliver of worry in it. You wouldn’t be surprised if some of his friends were encouraging him to be unloyal to you just because you decided to push forward with your career.
“He’s too busy panting for you to even begin thinking about someone else.” Bum’s putting on his shoes by the door, hushered by Namjoon. His three other friends are similarly getting dressed, laughing at the exchange.
“Literally, Vixen—”
Namjoon looks like he’s baring his teeth at Bum using his nickname for you.
“He’s whipped. We keep him in check, but it’s like guarding a leashed little puppy.”
You giggle, sweet and endeared. “Good. That’s the way I like him.” You lick your lips. “Make sure he doesn’t bare his ass on Instagram.”
“So you’re falling for his little thirst traps?” Bum’s laugh booms in the room and Namjoon wacks him on the head, worried about the neighbours. Also, he doesn’t like admitting that when he posts, he’s thinking about the way you would react when seeing him.
“You know how I am, Bum. I’m always falling for him,” you confess, cheesy and utterly honest at the same time.
Namjoon smiles like the cat who got the cream. “That’s sweet, babygirl. The guys are leaving now. Bye guys,” he says quickly, finally kicking them out.
You try to say bye in return, but you hear the door close and Namjoon is immediately all over you. “Always falling for me, huh?” He heads back towards the sofa. “That’s new.”
“That’s actually so, so old.” You roll your eyes but smile through it anyways.
“You’re my only sneaky link, Vixen. Still got your claw marks all over my back, by the way. Lovely touch.”
“Gotta mark my territory,” you state matter-of-factly.
“Wanna switch this over to a video call?” he suggests, already undoing the first button of his shirt.
“Just so I can be reminded I’m not over there fucking you right?” You snort bitterly. “No way.”
“We could make this our own personal porno,” he suggests, grateful that his trousers are baggy enough to give him extra space around the crotch. “Just a little visual aid.”
“You’re telling me you don’t remember how I rode you last time?” You undo the little bow at the waistband of your pyjama pants, your fingertips tiptoeing around the elastic of your panties.
“Let’s say I wouldn’t mind having a bit more than a memory to hold on to.” As if telepathically connected, he’s also undoing the button and zip of his denim cargos.
“Fair. You usually hold on to my hips while I fuck you.”
He hisses, head thrown back. “And you hold on to my throat when I’ve been an exceptionally good boy.”
A shiver screeches down your torso, then spreads through your midriff and settles somewhere at the small of your back, as if recalling the phantom touch of his hand, of his thumbs imprinting themselves in the twin dimples at the base of your spine. He likes resting his fingers there when he’s taking you from behind. It’s like the little dips were designed for his digits to rest there.
“You’re such a lucky little fucker,” you tease him and he one-ups you,
“I fucking am, but last time I checked you usually sort of profit from it.”
Your sultry laugh is his favourite form of payment — right now he’s richer than he’s ever been.
“Are your hands free, love?”
You let him hang there for a couple long seconds, your breathing heavy. “They’d be freer if you were here,” you tell him. “Maybe not.”
“They’d be all over me, and you know it, little fox.” He purrs as his hand finds a good spot. He’s not yet actually touching himself, but he’s definitely teasing. “Got on a fucking plane for those hands.”
“You flew for twelve hours for these hands.”
“And for that ass,” he adds, quick-witted.
Your laugh is more of a snort. “And that too.”
His zipper is undone, he dips his hand under the waistband of his briefs, shifting it downwards. “For that smart mouth of yours,” he whispers. “Just to kiss it for a bunch of hours.”
“It was very grateful,” you remind him, trying to bluff the fact that your middle finger is now circling your clitoris.
“I remember that.” His heartbeat is starting to accelerate. “I had to stop it from being a little bit too grateful.” He remembers the silky feeling of your hair in between his fingers, the tension in your hand on his thigh as you tried to take more of him. “My birthday girl,” he hums. “And yet, I was the lucky bastard who got presents.” The sight of you in that powder pink corset, with the delicate ruffles, and the feather trims tracing the top of your breasts, palpitating with every single excited breath you took.
It had been like seeing a map of your arousal, goosebumps rising on any inch of skin he had dared lay his eyes on.
“You were so responsive,” he whispered. “You were so fucking wet.”
“You teased me for almost an hour,” you object.
“I’ll have to make it two hours next time then.” He’s throbbing in his own palm, circling his tip, hissing when he hits a too-sensitive spot. “Maybe with the tickler still.”
“It was delightful, I will admit that.” You’re leaning on your hand now, cupped between your thighs. “Wish your face was between my legs.”
“Wish you were sitting on it, baby.” He bites his lip, as if he could recall the feel, the taste of you on his mouth. “Can’t believe it’s been two weeks already.”
“I can’t wait to be home,” you moan.
He can tell you’re touching yourself, from your ragged breathing, and from the way your voice has become more vulnerable, and more impatient too. “I’ll make sure to clear my schedule when you do. We can do that ‘seven days a week’ type of shit.”
You moan and he laughs to himself.
“Are you gonna come for me, my love?” he asks fondly, his voice like a dark caress. “Are you thinking about my mouth fucking you? About my tongue stroking you, feeling how wet and warm and sweet you are?”
“Joon, please,” you beg, a desperate little laugh.
“No need to beg, babygirl. You can have everything you want when you’re with me,” he continues, with his calm, direct voice. “You can take it, love. You can have me deep inside you, and you can suck on my fingers if you’re struggling to keep your voice down.” He’s quickened his own pace, trying to climb as fast as you do. “Or you can be loud, and tell the neighbours who’s making you feel this good.”
“When I get home I want you to mess me up for days. You’re gonna mark me, and make love to me and fuck me and feed me. You’re gonna cuddle me to sleep, then wake me up with your hand between my legs.”
You’re holding your breath as you speak, your high approaching like an incumbent, massive wave.
“I promise, love.”
“Are you coming too?” you ask, and he hums simply.
“I’m close.”
“I want you to fuck me while I sit on your lap.”
“On the sofa?”
“On the sofa, on the floor, in bed, I don’t care.” You gasp, then chuckle as you hit an indecently good angle with your fingers. “I want to hold you as we make love.”
“You will, baby.”
“I wanna whisper in your ear that you’re my one and only. That you’re the only one in the whole world who can get me this good.”
He loves when you get emotional during sex. He loves when you start to ramble and you tell him all those things you usually keep to yourself. “I can’t wait either. I miss you in bed. I miss you at every meal, I miss going to our galleries. I miss every fucking thing.” He’s getting desperate. “And most of all, I miss those eyes on me.”
“I’m coming,” you gasp, out of the blue, the idea of sitting on his lap, naked, making love to him, your mouth clamped around the crook of his shoulder to keep quiet, his hands tracing your back, his eyes looking for yours, for confirmation, for loyalty, for reassurance, for companionship.
“That’s my darling.” He can let go now, and he fucks his hand with intention, with neat powerful jerks. He helps himself with strong thrusts of his pelvis, and precise tugs of his hand too. He grunts when he hears your sweet whimpers on your side of the call, and finally he follows you into pleasure, with the image of your head thrown back, your plump lips agape, your hair tumbling wild behind you as you bounce on him.
He can almost feel the aftertaste of your perspiration on the tip of his tongue.
“Wow,” you say as soon as you manage to recollect yourself.
He’s still sort of numb, his orgasm spilled on his stomach and happy trail. Just a glimpse down and he’s already envisioned the phantom of you studying his semen, lowering yourself to his navel and tracing it with your digit, only to bring it to your mouth to have a taste. He clicks his tongue in disappointment.
“Damn, I wanna cuddle the fuck out of you and you’re too far away.” He reaches for a tissue to clean himself quickly. “I guess that’s why we don’t do this more often. I miss the aftercare.” He pulls himself back in his briefs, then blocks his phone between his shoulder and ear and stands to get rid of the tissue. “How are you feeling, love?”
“Hunting for chocolate.”
“Oh, baby…” He giggles, endeared. “Should I order something for you?”
“No… it’s okay.” You’re a little bit sad, but you try your best not to let it show.”
“Not even those glass beads you’d seen on our favourite website?”
You widen your eyes. “Let’s not make say things we don’t mean now...”
Namjoon laughs fondly. “Thought so.” He waits a little. “We can just talk, by the way. Or you can go grab a toy and we can keep going with this. We could discuss in great details what you intend to do to me once you’re back.”
“We could do that. Or we could video call and you could watch me hump this little thing you got me.”
He grins. “Then let me get comfy. We’ve got quite the night coming up.”
You smile. “We do.”
He hesitates. “We don’t have to, you know? If you don’t want to video call. I’m okay with just hearing you.”
You pause. Your love for him multiplies exponentially in your chest. “Sure we don’t have to. But I want to.”
Namjoon smiles. “Okay.”
“Get comfy, lucky boy,” you tease him.
“I’ll be right there.”
It’s almost six in the morning when you fall asleep. He’s propped the phone right beside him on the pillow and though he’s found himself dropping it a couple times, he’s refused to let go until he was sure you were asleep.
Now he closes the video call and locks his phone, putting it back on the nightstand. He pulls your pillow close, hugging it to his chest, then throws a leg on top of it. He places another pillow in between his legs, where your thighs would normally tangle with his.
He breathes in the vague scent of you left on the bed — not much since the sheets have been changed and he can only smell the laundry scent you normally use, of sandalwood and cedar, warm and spicy.
Twenty-three days.
He can handle it.
He falls asleep with the memory of your body like ivy against his own. Even this far apart, he is and will always be covered in you.
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