#its his birthday he turned 4 :)
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lil' Blood Falcon doodle :)
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to be loved is to be changed and all of that
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never changing [ five hargreeves x reader ]
a/n: hi yâall! itâs been a hot minute since iâve been on here, but after the absolute shit show that season 4 was, some sparks ignited in me to write up anything to take my mind off it đ
its not anything crazy, just fluff and banter since i havenât written anything in years so it may be as poorly redacted as this season lmao
summary: five and y/n attend their niece birthday party together, yet separate
âHappy birthday, little Gracie!â You smiled widely, trying not to drop the wrapped present box as the six year old girl jumped into your arms, âOh my gosh, look at you! Youâre just getting prettier by day, arenât you?â
You had just got off work in a hurry to make your appearance at the little girlâs birthday party at a decent time, in spite of the amount of paperwork you managed to bury yourself in lately. You knew how much it would have meant for the celebrated one to show up and you couldnât bear to let her down, especially on her birthday.
After spending most of your life working for the Commission, and then a decent amount of time exhausting yourself in trying to stop multiple Apocalypses, your last six years have been pretty quiet as a lawyer. You really wanted to get out of the whole assassin thing, but at the same time couldnât exactly move on from the thrill of the work field. Your career as a lawyer took off really well these past years, but inevitably it came along with the cost of always being stuck at work, so whenever your niece got the chance to see you, she was truly enthusiastic.
âAuntie Y/N!â She wrapped her tiny arms around your neck, engulfing you into a tight hug, âYou are here!â
Nonetheless, these six years have been truly and undeniably the most peaceful time of your life for as long as you could remember.
âYou literally saw each other the other day,â Five raised a brow, watching you and the celebrated one act as if you hadnât seen each other in years.
You and the little girl shared a look, before rolling your eyes and turning to glare at the man next to you. Ever since Grace learned how to talk, you and her would gang up on her uncle for your amusement, especially since he was so keen on entertaining the banter.
These past six year have gone by in the blink of an eye, yet at the same time at a slow and steady pace. You spent most of your time working anyway, but still kept in touch with the seven siblings youâd grown to love.
Some in different ways than others.
âUncle Five, youâre always more excited than me to see Aunt Y/N,â Gracie waved him off, making you burst out laughing, âJealousy isnât a good look on you anyway.â
âWhat is a good look on him anyway?â You smirked, making the little girl laugh, as Five swept her into his arms;
âOkay, munchkin, itâs your birthday today, but tomorrow Iâm going back to bullying you,â He joked, causing you both to laugh, before the two shared a hug before you, âYouâre lucky your gift has no return policy.â
The party had already started by the time you made it there. The playground was huddled by other kids around Graceâs age, along with their parents. The music was playing loudly over the laughter of children and you were pretty sure that most of the family had already arrived. It was not the most ideal gathering, but you tried your best to keep in touch with most of the family to your best capabilities.
âY/N, Iâm so glad you could make it!â Luther smiled, appearing from the crowd of guests, immediately giving you a big hug as his niece was still wrapped around Five, âHavenât seen you since Thanksgiving!â
âBig shot lawyer doesnât always have the time to stay in touch with family, huh?â Diego teased you, following suit, as you rolled your eyes, dropping off his daughterâs gift in his hands.
âBig shot delivery driver doesnât know the phone works both ways, huh?â You smirked, putting your hands on your hips.
Diego laughed out loud as he gave you a hug, always in the mood for a back and forth short banter with you. After all, you truly were family, even if you didnât always have the time to be present in the Hargreevesâ day to day lives. You may have met them in the original timeline in 2019, when you accidentally time traveled with your former partner at the Commission, Five, but after all youâve been through, you didnât need to have grown up together or be blood related to be considered that. And you truly were grateful for each and every single one of them, in spite of the many differences over the years.
After everything thatâs happened six years ago at Hotel Oblivion, everyone went their separate ways. Allison was back with her daughter while trying to further her acting career and also help Klaus stay on the sober line, Viktor had moved to Canada where he opened a bar, Diego and Lila had three kids, Luther was âprofessionally dancingâ, Ben had some run-ins with the law and Five, ironically enough, was working for the CIA.
âWell, you two are as annoying as always,â Ben told you and his brother, making Diego roll his eyes as he walked towards the gift table to set down your present.
âPlease try to stay out of prison at least for the remainder of the year,â You joked with the man, making him roll his eyes as he hugged you loosely, âThereâs only so much favors I could owe the DA.â
âShut the fuck up,â Ben groaned, âI donât even know why they let you work at the law firm since you still look like a prepubescent with no boobs. Even Five got a growth spurt.â
âI sized up to B recently, thank you very much,â You nudged his shoulder, before placing your hands on your chest in an offended manner.
âOkay, Gracie, not a conversation youâd wanna hear,â Five spoke up, putting his niece down, âYour aunt needs to learn some etiquette on how to act around children.â
âFunny coming from you,â You couldnât help but wave him off.
You didnât come in with Five at the party, but as fate had it, you did run into him as you were parking your car. He had just gone out to his brotherâs dusty van to bring inside some more cookies for the guests. You kept in touch with him as well, but not as often as you would have liked. Itâs not all that serious, but given the fact that you were a lawyer still climbing your way to the top and him being a top notch CIA agent, you didnât exactly have the time to hang out.
At least, not as much as youâd have liked.
Five was watching you with a small smile tugging at the corner of his lips, and his hands in his pockets. He had the same look on his face as always when watching you. He had the same smile when he saw you in combat for the first time during your first mission for the Commission together, the same look in his eyes when you appeared for the first time in 2019 alongside him in your teen bodies. The same posture he had when he met you again in 1963 after months of not seeing each other.
He wore the same love on his face while looking at you when you and the siblings split up after the events at Oblivion.
And never once did you notice that.
Not once in these past six years you let your feelings surface.
âYou know Grace is my niece too, right?â He couldnât drop the small smile even if he wanted to.
âSince when are you such a family man?â You raised a brow, trying to keep a confident composure.
âOh, something changed in me between the first and third time I traded the world for my siblings,â He lightly shrugged his shoulders, making you roll your eyes at the sarcastic remark.
You two never changed.
âPlease, I was there for the twins birth,â You waved him off.
You rarely see Five, and even when you do you always try to act normal, as you do around the rest of the Hargreeves. Everyone tried to get you two together at first, since the apocalypse was over and there was no reason for you to not get together, right?
You really wished it was that easy. In hindsight, maybe it was. But you couldnât take any chances in losing Five forever if something were to go wrong. Maybe some would see it as something stupid, or as if you wasted so many years, but to you- mentally, you were almost seventy, while physically nineteen. You had so much time ahead of you now, all that mattered was to get a stable career first.
Five let a chuckle escape, shaking his head in disbelief, as he looked at the floor for a couple of seconds. When he looked back at you, you tried to keep your composure. You couldnât help but feel pathetic that after all these years, your heart still skipped a beat whenever heâd look at you.
âYouâre doing that thing again where you forget that some other people are still around, guys,â Luther raised his hand, grabbing your attention once again.
âI got bored of watching seventy year old virgins,â Ben shrugged his shoulders, âIâm gonna go get shitfaced.â
âAlways a delight seeing you, Benjamin,â Five said, as Luther followed the ex-tentacle boy suit to make re he was not about to actually get drunk;
âThis is a six year oldâs birthday party!â
You giggled, watching the two brothers speed away while arguing amongst the kids in the crowd. When your eyes laid back on Five, who was intently watching you, you couldnât help but feel a small blush creep its way in your cheeks.
âWhat?â
âNothing.â
âSpit it out, Hargreeves.â
âI said itâs nothing!â
âFuck you.â
âWhy?â
You watched him dumbfounded for a couple of seconds because of the only answer he could come up with, before walking away, hoping he would follow you.
When he did try to keep up with you, you looked away to hide the proud smile. Even after all these years, things were still the same with him. He was still so eager to spend time with you, he was still smiling at you and entertaining your conversation.
âAunt Y/N, Uncle Five, come play in the ball pit!â Gracie ushered you from afar, already tucked in the plastic colorful balls.
âYou heard the birthday girl!â You smiled, grabbing his hand to drag Five after you.
Even after all these years he would instantly lock his fingers with yours.
#the umbrella academy#the umbrella academy x reader#five hargreeves#five hargreeves imagines#five hargreeves x reader#five hargreeves imagine#tua x reader#tua season 4#the umbrella academy imagines#the umbrella academy season 4
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Hating Game
Pairing: dbf!Joel x Reader
Summary: Celebrating your dadâs birthday at the yacht club becomes damn near unbearable when Joel Miller brings a date along too. Jealousy and hate sex ensue.
Warnings: 18+. Food fight turned hatefuck (donât ask). Cockwarming and semi-public sex on the bridge deck. Oral (m! and f!receiving). Daddy kink. Dirty talk. Age gap. C*mplay. Katoptronophilia. Orgasm denial. One risquĂŠ Viagra joke. Drinking games. Descriptions of vomiting. Joel cockwarming you while smoking a cigarette <3
Part 1 | Part 3 | Part 4
"Can ya try that one more time, sweet pea? For daddy?"
You can. Try, anyway. Controlling your tongue while heâs buried so deep inside you is a far harder task than expected, though. Especially when heâs so still.
Joel sees it. Feeling a twinge of pity, he leans over your body and digs his hips even deeperânot thrusting, but still granting a modicum of friction as he takes another drag of his cigarette. The hot, heavy throb of his girth pulses like your own fucking heartbeat, and your eyes roll back.
An orangutan on roller skates wouldâve had more grace.
A grizzly bear in hibernation mightâve been more lively.
A fucking cross-eyed octopus reciting Shakespeare wouldâve been less strange, alarming, and painfully awkward to see than your fatherâs best friend the week after heâd railed you senseless in the front seat of his car.
Joel Miller had shown up with a date, for Christâs sake.
Of course, youâd been three cocktails deep and playing stack cup with a random group of gentlemen on the bridge deck at the time, but that was almost immaterial. This was your dadâs fifty-first birthday partyâone of the rowdiest nights the Austin Yacht Club had yet to seeâand yeah, you planned on getting belligerently shitfaced on Dirty Shirleys and obscene amounts of catered food.
Youâd never thought to bring a date of your own, though.
That was just distasteful and crass, all things considered.
Presently, you slammed your ping pong ball to the tabletop and watched it make a wide arc over your cup.
âFuckfuckfuuuuuck,â you whispered low as the man four spots down made it in, and the man after him bounced the ball straight into his own on the first go. He moved the tall, swaying stack of red Solos immediately to your right, and you knew from the jump you were fucked.
Tommy Miller was a master at stack. You could already see the sly smile on his face from the corner of your eye.
Just as MĂśtley CrĂźe gave way to Hall & Oates on the speakers overhead, Joelâs brother crammed his stack of cups over your own and made a smug, triumphant bow.
âAll you, kid,â he grinned and slid the second to last cup in your direction.
You couldâve cursed his whole bloodline, Joel included.
There was no way in hell you were getting stuck with death cup againâthe last, cruel punishment for the loser of the game a mix of three different types of liquor, soda, and a spritz of Natty Light. Filled to the brim and waiting to be downed by whoever didnât sink the final shot.
You squared your shoulders and locked the fuck in.
Bounced the ball once. Twice. Christ, this was hard. The man to your left was struggling too, but he seemed just as determined and twice as skilled, and you were pretty buzzed. A second later, he made it in and, of course, slid it right back to Tommy, who was practically overcome with laughter.
âMILLER! MILLER! MILLER!â Men were not creative when it came to chants. Or beating fists on furniture.
âQuit shakinâ the shit!â Tommy roared, tapping his ping pong ball deftly onto the tableâs surface.
You blinked a few hazy, anxious thoughts out of your head and tried with everything in you not to miss this shot. The instrumental bridge of âManeaterâ was sinking its teeth in your soul and taunting your nerves to no end.
You took the ball, swallowed hard, watched the cup, and flicked your wrist, at last, from a singularly perfect angle.
The ball was a millisecond away from making it in.
Tommy Fuckstick Miller managed to stack you first.
A chorus of obnoxious, wholly drunk howls rang loud in your ears, and suddenly, the attention was back on you, the unhappy victim of the gameâs most gruesome drink.
You didnât hesitate. You pinched your nose and guzzled from the cup before the torment could go on any longer.
You did well at first.
Opened your throat like a pro and cleared it down to the last fourth of the drink, to the point where you could see the slick white bottom side of the cup clear as day.
Your mouth had just flooded with the final draught of death cup when a familiar guitar riff caught you off guard.
You werenât sure why it had to happen that way, but after being forced to listen to the song some five thousand times on your road trip with Joel, the tenor of Billy Joelâs voice was like nails on a chalkboard to you now. Grating. Nauseating.
Vomit-inducing.
Swiftly, you ran to the nearest railing and lost your last drinkâand your whole dinnerâover the side of the boat.
You yakked into Lake Travis like you never had before.
And, just as that stupid, forever-tainted song surged on, you heard footsteps approaching. A momentâs pause. Then a hand on your back. Patting gently and, seconds later, lowering a cup of water to the side of your head.
Your face was still dangling upside down off the yacht. You didnât want to be touched.
âGo to hell, Tommy,â you muttered.
âYou first,â he said, chuckling.
You didnât sit so much as slump back onto the deck with your head in your hands. The whole boat had gone sideways in your mind, and Tommyâs outstretched arm looked more like a bubbling lump than a friendly gesture.
You groaned at the sight of the cup and shook your head.
âIâm alright, okay. Iâm good.â
Then, when the cup didnât waver:
âCan they change the fucking song already?!â
Tommy cocked a brow and squatted down next to you. He set the water aside.
âGot a problem with dad rock or somethinâ?â he smirked.
You shook your head noâit wasnât the music that was making you sick but the man Tommy called his brother that made you wanna vomit again. The thought of that man tangled up with a svelte brunette who looked fresh off the cover of Sports Illustrated when he couldnât even be bothered to shoot you a text after the condom broke last week. Like he just didnât give a shit if you were alive, dead, or pregnant with his child. Unfortunately, you had nothing more to throw up, and your eyes were on fire.
Tommy slung an arm around your shoulder and pulled you into his side. Took a handkerchief out of his pocket.
âNo more Dirty Shirleys for you, young lady,â he chided, dabbing lightly at the tears that had trickled out.
âNo more men for me,â you grumbled quietly.
You couldnât see it then, but you could feel him trying not to smile. He tugged you closer.
âBoy trouble, huh?â he said, âWhose ass needs kickinâ?â
Your brother, actually. Curb stomp that fucker, please.
You shrugged instead.
âSome guy from school.â
Tommy nodded, waiting for you to elaborate. When you didnât, he just assumed you wanted to keep it to yourselfâwhich you didâand squeezed your shoulder softly.
âWellâŚyou know youâve got your dad, me, and Joel to beat the shit outta any guy, any time, any place, right?â
You wished it were that simple. You wiped your nose and nodded all the same.
âAndâŚâ Tommy started again, working slow to get you back on your feet, âMost guys your age donât know their ass from their fuckinâ elbow, honeybun. Donât take it too personal if heâs dumb enough to lose a gem like you.â
The corners of your lips twitched slightly at his words. Almost smiling by the time he had you up on your feet.
âThanks, Tommy.â
âAnytime, kiddo.â
You mightâve rolled your eyes when he pinched your cheek, but the water he held back up for you to drink looked far too appetizing, and you knew he meant well. You took the cup from him and started to chug.
Again, youâd almost made it through the whole refreshment when a sound threw you off. Abruptly.
âWhere have you two lovebirds been?!â Tommy chirped.
You lowered your water and almost regurgitated again. Bile jumped up in your throat, and you just narrowly managed to keep it all down with a cough and a sputter.
Joel and Ms. Centerfold were at the far end of the deck.
Joel was tucking his dress shirt back into his pants.
Are you fucking kidding me?
âGettinâ nasty on her daddyâs yacht? Thatâs bold,â Tommy cackled, nudging you playfully.
Your face was bloodless. Every last ounce of pretense and decorum had spilled out with your dinner, before, and now you were just staring at Joel blankly. Numb.
You watched him shove the last clump of his shirt under the waistband and straighten up slightly. The woman at his side flashed you and Tommy a blinding white smile.
âMight say the same for you,â she called back. She seemed to be eyeing you both with a half-curious look.
Tommy made a face as if to say âyuckâwhat the fuck?â and threw his arm around you again, shaking you lightly.
âSheâs like my little sister, Ashton. Youâre fuckinâ gross.â
Little sister. Nice. Like a knife twisting inside your gut.
If Joel took any notice of the comment, he didnât show it. He just stood there, dull and impassive as a loaf of bread. Every coarse lineament of his face was unreadableâjust as bleak, bland, and uncaring as the eyes staring out of it. Then he fished around in his back pocket and pulled out his lighter and a pack of American Spirits. He passed the latter to Ashton and leaned over to give her a light.
Throwing yourself off the boat seemed like the most logical next move out of anything available to you.
Thatâs when you knew you were off your shit and needed to leave the bridge deckâimmediately.
âNeed a drink,â you mumbled, starting off the other way.
Tommy was hot on your heels, following fast after you.
âThatâsâ thatâs actually the last thing you need, I think, sweetie. How âbout some lemonade?â
âCan you spike it with bleach?â
âWhat?â
âNothing.â
Tommy followed you down the staircase straight through to the galley, past the throngs and pockets of partygoers crowding the main dining area. Hitting the bar was a bad ideaâwait staff knew you well enough to sense when you were utterly trashed, sad, or bothâso you slipped toward the wine cooler and quickly sidestepped Tommy.
âNo! No way. Nuh-uh.â He was still trying to block your access to the fridge when you grabbed hold of the door.
âHair of the dog, Thomas.â
âThatâs not a thing. Thatâsâ you just projectile vomited off the deck, dude. You need a breather.â
You stopped just long enough to let Tommy pry you off the refrigerator handle and back to the kitchen island. You were pissed off, sure, but also not nearly prepared for another drop of alcohol if you were being honest with yourself. Your head was still spinning when you sat down on the counter.
Once you were settled, Tommy got to rifling through the cabinets, and you pressed a hand to your forehead.
âSo how longâs that been going on?â You couldnât help it.
âWha- oh, Joel and Ash?â Tommy hummed from deep inside a cupboard. He came out with a small blue box.
You winced at the nickname. Watched him go from the pantry to the sink, fill a glass halfway, find a spoon, and tear the box in two, along with a couple chalky tablets.
âTheyâve beenâŚweird.â The sentence was punctuated with a pinch of his brow and a frown. He started stirring.
âWeird how?â
Your feet were dangling over the edge of the island; you pretended to gain a sudden interest in a smudge on the toe of your shoe.
âWeird likeâŚI donât know,â Tommy tossed the spoon in the sink and turned back to you. Holding out the cup, âTheyâve been âfriendlyâ for yearsâAsh is a coworker of oursâand Joel swears itâs nothing moreâŚbut I dunno.â
He ended his speech again with that weird intonation and grimace, like he wasnât so sure if he believed what he was saying himself, then shook his head and shrugged. He watched you take a sip of the Alka-Seltzer and urged you to get the whole thing down. It tasted like shit.
âChrist, thatâs salty,â you coughed.
You didnât want to keep going, but Tommy tipped the glass back in your hand and made you finish.
âItâll help with your stomach,â he said before strolling over to the caterersâ fridge to look for bland food options.
âSo if theyâre not a thing, whyâd he bring her here?â
You didnât care what Tommy thought of your questions. He knew you were eager to hear the tea in any situation.
You watched as your friend procured a hand of bananas and some bread. He gave the fruit to you and took the bread over to the toaster, where he dropped in two slices. You couldnât quite tell if he was contemplating an answer, didnât want to spill, or hadnât heard the question at all. He snagged a plate and a butter knife while you peeled apart your snack, silently dying to know the truth.
At length, Tommy shrugged. Again.
ââCause Joelâs a goddamn drama queen and doesnât know what he wants, I sâpose,â he said.
Ainât that the truth.
Then, after a minute:
âHad his panties in a wad ever since he went to Boston.â
You stiffened hearing that. You couldnât pretend to be invested in your shoe scuff, the floor, or the food in your hand any longer. Your eyes flitted up to Tommy to see if his expression had shifted any.
It hadnâtâhe was just looking for strawberry jam.
âYou hitched a ride home with him then, didnât you?â he asked casually.
You swallowed and nodded. You watched Tommy retrieve the two freshly-warmed pieces of toast that jumped up to greet him and, having found the jam he wanted, slapped them both on a plate and lathered them up. You muttered a quiet âthank youâ as he slid them over.
You were almost too scared to ask more questions, but you knew you had to find out. About Joel, Ashton, anything Tommy mightâve gleaned about your trip home from Boston. You found you could hardly sit in one place and had to step off the counter to eat your food.
âJoelâs been, uhhâŚhow do Gen Zâs say it? Trippinâ balls?â Tommy reached for a banana himself and started in.
âTweaking,â you corrected him.
âTweakinâ, yeah. Joelâs been a real fuckinâ tweaker lately.â
âIn what way?â
âJustâŚshuttinâ himself in is all. Wouldnât talk to me or your dad or anybody for days after he got back. Didnât show up for our monthly Bingo matchup at Mandoâsâand he hasnât missed one of those in almost six years.â
You pursed your lips, equally mystified. You knew just how seriously your dad and his friends took those gamesâhow rare it was for Joel to turn down any opportunity to drink, play Star Wars-themed Bingo, and shoot the shit with his buddies over Coors Light and cheese curds. You took another bite and waited for Tommy to continue.
âAnd thereâsâ there was thisâŚthing heâ I dunno.â
Suddenly, it seemed your friend had lost the power of coherent speech, and he was rubbing the back of his neck, flashing a half-sheepish smile, and shaking his head. Contemplating whether he should share something with you and ultimately deciding against it.
You raised both eyebrows.
âWhat?â
âNah, itâs dumb, really.â
âTell me.â You took a far-too-large bite of your banana and had some trouble getting it down.
âWell, heâŚâ Tommy trailed off, shifting his gaze from yours to take a look at his own shoe, for a second, âWhen me and your dad were riding with Joel to a work siteâŚwe, uhâŚfound a box of Plan B in his glove compartment.â
Half-chewed banana and toast almost flew across the room while you spluttered and choked and just barely managed to cover your mouth to keep it all in.
âRight? Threw me for a loop, too,â Tommy grinned as you beat your chest with a fist and fought to keep yourself breathing, âYour dad damn near had a baby when he picked that little box and those booty shorts up himself.â
When he what?! You wanted to scream, just picturing your straight-laced, conservative father flipping a Plan B box between his hands, in shock, and thenâŚyour shortsâwhen the fuck had you taken your shorts off again?
Right, when you were busy trying to scoop some more of Joelâs jizz from your cunt as he raced you both to CVS.
Good times.
You held your hair back and leaned over the sink, spitting two more chunks of banana and bread down the drain. Tommy reached around behind you for the spigot and filled another glass with water as he tried not to laugh.
âEasy, now,â he said, patting your back like heâd done for you before, âJoel didnât happen to mention this lady friend to you now, did he?â
âNo,â you choked. You wiped your mouth clear of any spit and food residue and slowly blinked down into the sink, feeling an old wave of nausea begin to settle over you. Accepted the new glass of water from Tommy and hoped he wouldnât notice the tremor in your hand as you did.
The man seemed completely oblivious. Still standing close behind you, Tommy rubbed circles in your back and leaned a little closer.
âDeath cup really got ya, huh?â He smirked, and you realized then that he very much was like an older brother. This whole situation with Joel was fucked on so many levels and would be fucked tenfold if Tommy ever found out.
You turned around and felt yourself steadied between two warm, broad palmsââWanna sit? Lie down?ââand then you were shaking your head, reaching for another banana and trying like hell to seem semi-composed, though every neuron in your brain was firing away at a million miles per second and your legs were feeling like scrambled eggs.
âIâm okay.â
âYeah?â
Suddenly, one of Tommyâs hands had moved up to brush a few strands of hair from your face, and you felt your skin radiating raw heat. A deep-seated anxiety, too.
Heâs going to find outâwhat if he already knows?
What if Joel tells Tommy?
What if Tommy tells dad?
Your mind was reeling, on fire, still working in earnest to find something to tell your friend to say you were fine, just dizzy, and definitely not fucking his big brother.
Your brain was drawing blank after blank after blank.
Just then, a clatter sounded nearby. Both of you jumped.
When you shot a look to the source of the intrusion, you nearly folded into Tommy from secondhand humiliation.
âNice hands, feet,â the younger Miller called over to Joel, who was currently trying to recover the dozen-odd pots and pans heâd knocked over at the threshold of the room. You stared at the two in a mixture of confusion, disbelief, and disgustâthe latter reserved exclusively for Joel.
You set your drink down, held your hand over your stomach, and pretended to head for the bathroom.
âBe right back,â you muttered, brushing past both men.
You knew you wouldnât be back at all if you could help it.
Still clutching your banana in one hand and your raucously churning tummy in the other, you climbed the galley stairs fast to get back up to the bridge deck. You almost tripped over both your heels trying to make it up the steps so quick, desperate for solitude and quiet.
Another hair metal hit from the â80s was playing overhead, but fortunately, the deck was free of people. You stumbled over to one of the catering tables, looking helplessly for something that might settle your belly, but no, this sickness was coming straight from your headâfrom that insufferable munch of a man, Joel Miller.
You gingerly approached the railing behind the table and prepared yourself for another round of dry heaving.
You rested both elbows on the metal, looked out toward the dark, glassy water beneath you, then hung your head in abject defeat. You slid your tongue across the roof of your mouth and waited for the vomit to come.
The only thing that followed were footsteps.
Heavy, thunderous sounds making their way up the stairs.
âStay back, Tommy. Please.â You raised a hand to the man approaching softly behind you, not turning your head, âThat Alka-Seltzer stuff didnât work for shit.â
âShoulda stuck to water, sweet pea.â
That made you pivot.
Not a quick tilt of the head or a twist to the side, but a full-fledged 180-degree spin on your heels, hand to your gut, what-the-FUCK-are-you-doing-here turnaround.
You stared ahead and felt sicker than you had all night.
Then, pointing one crooked, accusatory finger his way without thinking, you hardly knew or heard what you were saying before the words came out. It sounded a little something like, âJoel, you goddamn fucking idiot.â
Joel didnât flinch.
In fact, he seemed supremely unfazed.
He just held your fuming gaze and frowned.
âYou tryinâ to fuck my little brother or somethinâ?â
Your hand had closed around your banana on the table before his words had hung in the air for even a second. You flung the fruit full-force at his head, enraged.
Unfortunately, you were drunk and your aim was shit. Your yellow boomerang-like weapon of choice barely made it within three feet of its target before it glanced off a light fixture and struck the ground with a thud.
Accuracy be damned, you werenât quite done.
âYou left the fucking Plan B out for my dad to find?!â
Just when Joel tried to answer, or perhaps hurl another accusation in your direction, you stuck your hand in the closest catering tray you could findâa serving of green peas, as it was. You lobbed a handful at the man as he started to draw closer, and this time, you managed to land a pretty hefty spray. Joel only rolled his eyes.
âI didnât leave it thereâyou did,â he retorted.
âMy shorts, too?!â
You grabbed another fistful of peas and threw it. Joel was able to dodge it right before making it to the other end of the table. He gripped the edges of the wood in both hands and stood sternâimposinglyâopposite you.
âYour shorts, your fuckinâ problem, sweets.â
Just when you reached for another green pea projectile, he surprised you and made for the tray right beside it.
Shortly, a glob of garlic mashed potatoes struck the front of your dress and slid slow, almost sluggishly down the pristine pink silk fabric before falling at your feet. Joelâs aim was evidently much better than yours.
You brushed what chunks of food you could get off your chest and pinned him with a wide, incredulous look.
âYouâre a Grade A fucking asshole, you know that?â
âYouâre a bit of a shithead too, potato tits.â
âFUCK you!â
âAlready DID!â
You wouldâve flipped the whole table if it were in your power to do so. Wouldâve toppled all the tables, kicked the chairs, took a lighter to the curtains and sent the goddamned yacht down in flames if you had toâthat was how much you despised the man in front of you.
Instead, you threw your hands up and stormed off.
âMaybe I will fuck Tommy!â you barked as you started toward the stairs, âIâll fuck your brotherâs brains out, and you can screw Ashton all you want, how âbout that?â
Youâd made it about two feet before Joel grabbed hold of one of your wrists and yanked you back. You didnât hesitate to throw a gruffâand ultimately fruitlessâpunch that hit him square in the chest. He didnât budge.
âYou donât mean that,â Joel sneered. He shook your whole frame with one simple flick of his forearm.
âIâll tap your whole bloodline like a keg, Miller. Try me.â
Again, you tried to shake him off, but the hand only constricted around you tighter. Then it was walking you backwards, slowly, almost carefully, until your back was to a wall and your eyes were searching his, angry as ever.
âYouâd break your daddyâs heart with that one,â Joel said just above you, voice lowered considerably.
âYeah?â you challenged, âMaybe if I was less of a shithead I would care what my dad thought. But Iâm not. So I wonât.â
âWasnât talkinâ about your father, darlinâ.â
Joel was good.
He was an insufferable ass and he was good.
Then you remembered the radio silence over the past seven days and the fact that he may or may not have fucked someone else earlier that nightâpossibly right where you were standingâand he lost all appeal real quick. You shoved him hard in the chest once more.
âDonât play that shit with me. You, of all peopleââ You made as if to read him the riot act but cut yourself short, deciding it wasnât worth your time explaining human empathy to a man who believed bootcut jeans and all things Ely Cattleman were peak fashion, and just learned what ovulation was last week. Then, sliding along the wall and trying to head to the stairs again, you felt Joelâs leg slot between your own.
âWhat did I do?â he said, curious.
Before you could answer, his thigh had stirred in place, grazing lightly over the spot the hem of your minidress had exposed to him. You ignored it.
âDoesnât matter,â was your non-answer.
Joel seemed intrigued by the ambiguity and only lowered his head to get closer to yoursââThen whyâre ya so mad youâre throwinâ dinner food at me, darlinâ?ââpuffing warm breaths on your neck and only smiling when you flinched back. He took your response as a cue to keep pressing, both figuratively and physically.
âJust wanted attention or somethinâ? That what it is?â Joelâs voice was as saccharine as it was taunting, words paired with a hand circling light across your thigh. He wasnât moving in, and it was tearing you to shreds inside.
âFuck your attention, and fuck you, Joel.â
Words hardly reflecting how you felt internally.
Swiftly, then, the hand at your leg was raised to your faceâcupping it with a bit more force than you expected. Joelâs grin stretched even wider.
âAttention and discipline,â he mused aloud, âTwo things dad never gave his little girl growinâ up, I see.â
Before you could reply, he was squeezing your face even tighter and nodding his head, as if already anticipating your answer. Then, somehow lower, âSuch a filthy mouth on her, too. Never knows when to keep it shut and how to be polite to someone who fucked her so nice already.â
You mightâve whimpered if you didnât also want to throat punch the motherfucker and knee him in the balls. When Joel started stroking your cheek, you groaned instead, and you hoped he would hear it as chagrin, not arousal.
âI can help with both of those, yâknowââ His thumb rubbed a little harder, and his leg moved up. You pressed your hands flat to his thigh to keep him from teasing, but the man would do no such thing to oblige you. In fact, he just shifted his leg back and forthâŚand back, again. A ripple of bliss from the friction sparked low inside you.
âI can give you attention, and I can scrub that mouth clean if thatâs what you really need,â Joel continued, âJust say the word, darlinâ.â
âFucker.â That was your word.
And it worked well enough for Joel.
In the next instant, he had you half-carried, half-dragged across the deck and thrown onto the table where youâd lost that dreaded game of stack. Solo cups still littering the surface, and puddles of beer soaking in through your dress, you made a sound of disgust and tried to thrust yourself up, just to fail. You squirmed and swatted at the man standing in front of you, who easily kept you pinned to the surface with one palm laid calmly on your belly.
He reached into the back pocket of his trousers and retrieved his lighter and cigarette pack.
âSomeone could catch us,â you hissed, helpless, unsure of what else to say to show you werenât giving in just yet.
Joel lit up in four seconds flat. He sucked in a breath.
âI roped off the stairs coming up,â he replied.
He what?
You moved back, slowly, on the surface when Joel worked a hand to his belt buckle, and you heard half a dozen plastic cups fall to the floor behind you.
You would not be his dateâs sloppy secondsâever.
Joel yanked at your thighs and pulled you back to be straddling his hips, shrugging his pants down; you couldnât bear to keep looking when he lowered his briefs.
He took another drag and eyed you hungrily, happy to see you all sprawled out and pretty before him. The tight fabric of your dress had cinched over your hips and left you bare to just panties, making him grow even harder.
âJoel.â
He worked his dick out of his pants and moved the head to trail slow along the seam of your barely-clothed cunt. Even through the lace, he could feel how wet you were. He notched the tip at the space where your panties had parted just slightly to the side and felt your arousal pool even wetter around the end of his member. He grunted.
âJoel, Iââ
âDaddyâs gonna give ya attention, sugar. Hold still.â
You couldnât. Wouldnât. You splayed your fingers over the hand that was trying to guide his cock into you and clenched your jawâevery carnal fibre in your being telling you not to do what you were about to try anyway.
âYou fucked her didnât you?â
Joel flicked the ash off his cigarette, âNo.â
âYou brought her here.â
âHad to.â
Your face was flushed and likewise flooded with smoke, curling slow from Joelâs lips before it painted the air an opaque, muddied grey above you. You wriggled your hips away from his, and for once, he didnât try to stop you.
âI saw you tucking your shirt in. Tommy said you fucked!â
âTommyâs about one fry short of a Happy Meal, honey,â Joel puffed once more, âHeâs always sayinâ shit like that.â
Incredibly, heâd managed to use about a dozen funny words in that old Texas lilt and still say so little to actually answer your question. When the pinch in your brow told him you werenât quite satisfied, Joel let out a sigh.
âAsh spilled pebre on my shirt. I had to change.â
Oh.
âAnd youââ you started.
ââhave no fuckinâ right to know, one way or the other, because youâre the one who said weâd just âfuck and forget it,â remember?â Joel interrupted, reminding you of your own curt words from your Bronco boning session.
Again, you tried to speak and found yourself spoken for, Joel carrying on as casual as ever as he sucked the last life-breath from his cig and stared you down, cynically.
âYour dadâs the one who made me bring her tonight. Said I seemed âdownâ since the last gal I fucked wasnât aroundâI didnât have the heart to tell him it was his daughterâand here we are,â Joel smiled, wryly, and flicked his cigarette into the lake. You wouldâve liked to tell him littering was a crime that trashed us all but refrained.
You were too busy staring at his lips, wondering why he hadnât kissed you yet. You reckoned all the pea flinging, swearing, and swinging mightâve played a small part.
At length, Joel slid a new American Spirit out of its pack and wrangled you back to his hips as he lit up again.
âHappy?â he said, after a beat.
You werenât sure whether to nod or cross your arms. Beckon him in with both hands or kick his bunched-up pants, belt, and boxer briefs away altogether and keep the bratty act going. You didnât like being wrong.
At any rate, it didnât matter. Heâd called you on your bluff.
Still smoking, still smiling, still happy as a clam at high tide, Joel pressed his length straight up to your folds and watched you squirm on the wood underneath him.
âGonna listen now?â he hummed.
âUh-huh.â
Good, his wretchedly deep brown eyes seemed to say. Good that you were here, good that you were spread wide and supine beneath him, good that youâd gone all soft and pliable under his touch and were watching him now with a look that said youâd let him do just anything.
Good that he could fuck you.
Great that he wasnât planning toânot fully, anyway.
Joel wasted no time taking your answer in the affirmative to slip past your panties and push deep inside your sweet cunt. When your walls stretched and cried all around him, he sighed and gripped your legs even tighter. He gritted the cigarette between his teeth and brought your ankles to rest over his shoulders, sinking in even deeper. Then he had to hold steady inside you and keep you flat on the table in front of him, and just when you whined to fuck me now, Joel, fuck me right now, daddy, please, he stilled. He took a big, long drag and didnât move an inch.
Heâd teach you some discipline one way or another.
âJoel, please,â you groaned again, hands bracing the table to start fucking up and down on his shaft, before he put a stop to that fast and held you firmly in place, âPlease, Joel, I need you so fucking bad, daddy, please.â
Joel tapped his ash to the side and ignored your pleas.
He felt your walls contract around him and tried not to grunt. He focused instead on the smoke overhead.
âWanna say that nicer?â he asked, deadpan. Then, staring expectantly down at you, while you flushed and struggled to stay still, âKeep that mouth a little cleaner?â
Fuck, did he have that father-figure tone down to a T.
You laid there before him and almost forgot his cock was wedged inside you for a second. He seemed so sincere.
âI wanâ want you to move, daddy, I-I-I donât know how else to say iâ FUCK!â Your pussy spasmed around him when the tip of his pubic bone grazed your clit. That squeaky clean mouth of yours was nowhere to be seen.
âMhmm,â Joel nodded anyway, pretending to be observing your behavior as he might for a clinical trial. Like he was testing a new drug, not his dick inside your cunt, practically clenching in Morse code around him.
âCan ya try that one more time, sweet pea? For daddy?â
You could. Try, anyway. Controlling your tongue while he was buried so deep inside you seemed to be a far harder task than you couldâve ever expected, though.
Joel sensed it. Feeling a twinge of pity, he leaned over your body and dug his hips even deeperânot thrusting, but still granting some modicum of friction. The hot, heavy throb of his girth pulsed inside you like your own fucking heartbeat, and your eyes rolled back.
âFucking shitsucking DICK BITCH CUNT! FUCK!â
Sounding every bit the uncouth novice in a COD lobby chat circa 2009, you knew you didnât have the faintest hope of earning Joelâs strokes now. You hated yourself for itâand Joel, too, for subjecting you to such cruel and unusual punishment for just needing to fuck him hard.
You were desperate and heated. Five seconds away from yanking your sex off of his and going to town with your own fingers, you felt a palm press down on your tummy.
Damn Joel and his super-sized hands.
You could barely breathe, much less pry yourself off.
Joel was quiet and calm. Stuffing you full and puffing away at his cigarette the whole time. He smirked.
âAinât that difficult, honey,â he said, hardly losing his will or his sympathy when you shot a raw glance his way, âStay still on this cock and ask daddy nicely, âsâall ya gotta do.â
He could tell by the look in your eyes you couldnât stand to play niceâbut needed to cum. He watched you swallow your pride, soften your eyes just a bit, and when you felt you might implode from all the feeling, whined,
âPlease make me feel good, daddy, please, I need it.â
Joel breathed and eased back just an inch, lowering his hand to thumb softly at your clit. You keened.
âThatâs my sweet girl.â
Still just rubbing that bundle and looking down while you came unraveled, Joel thought you perfectly sublime. Heâd kill to keep you there like that, eyes rolling and skin soaking the table beneath you both in sweat and arousal. He stared down at the place your bodies were connectedâa sliver of his cock visible and soaked with your juicesâand he felt a wave of desire crest over his mind. Panting, quietly, he brought one hand to your hip and kept the other working furiously over your clit, trying to ignore the urge to rut inside you. It was self-discipline for him, too.
He wouldnât let you know that yet, though.
He crushed the cigarette between his teeth and kept still.
âYa like that, sugar? Like daddy stuffed inside this pussy, makinâ ya beg real pretty for me?â His husky Southern drawl ran like molasses off his tongue, thicker now when he was balls-deep and half-drunk off your cunt.
You watched his mouth, intrigued, and saw a long line of spit drip deliciously from those pretty, stubbled lips of his to your lower ones, making the spot more filthy and warm as your fluids mixed together. Still, Joel didnât move a thing more than his thumbâbut the sounds from you both were growing louder and more desperate.
The gentle squelch of spit, sweat, and arousal running all down your pussy, paired with those noises you made when you were feeling this good and squeezing him tight, was enough to send Joel straight over the edge. Now he didnât have the strokes or any motion to focus on before him, just youâhe flicked his cigarette away the second he sensed you were getting close yourself.
âSweet little thing,â he cooed, still rubbing in circles, âHowâs my baby feelinâ?â
You clawed at the table beneath you and knocked your head back once or twice on the wood, humming a quick, âGood, daddy, goodâ in the most hoarse and pathetic voice youâd ever used, and Joel smiled. You hadnât cursed out loud in a minute and seemed to be taking his touches well. Heâd have to give you some form of reward.
Gently, Joel pulled back and made a shallow thrust inside you. Both your body and his jolted with pleasure.
âFUân stuff, fun stuff,â you hissed, trying hard to mask the expletive.
In truth, Joel was struggling too. Just one stroke inside you and that coil inside him was about ready to burst.
âFun, huh?â he teased, keeping his motions down to quick pistons as he laid his palms flat on either side of your head, âDaddy make ya feel fun-ny, does he?â
âYeah, he does, heâ ah, SHIT right there, right there!â
Evidently, heâd found your G spot.
Joel stilled inside you as soon as the foul word escaped.
You whined. Loud. Almost tempted to burst into tears.
âNononono, that doesnât count, Joel! That doesnâtââ Your voice was shortly supplanted by a whimper when the man went back to thumbing your clit, hips rendered still once more and cock wedged deep inside your core.
âWhatâs it gonna take to make you behave for me, huh? Do I have to talk to your daddy again?â Joel seethed.
You shook your head quick and felt him circle your clit even harder, more punishing now. Your body craved the friction from his cock but could barely contain the words that were coming out now. You pinched your eyes shut, feeling your orgasm creeping closer and closer, and whimpered gently, desperately, âFuckfuckfuuuuuck.â
Whether it came down to making terrible plays at stack cup or getting your clit torn apart by Joelâs thumb, you simply could not keep the filthy language at bay.
You werenât going to listen, that much was clear.
Joel had no choice but to make you learn a different way.
So, prying his fingers and his cock from your cunt, he reached across for your hips insteadâpulling you off of the table and pushing you down to the floor, at his feet.
He smoothed a palm over the top of your head and fisted your hair in one hand, his cock in the other, and brought his hot, swollen, slick-coated length within an inch of your face, stroking fast.
Your gaze flitted from the sight in front of you to Joelâs eyes, back and forth, stunned and in utter disbelief. As you felt your own climax crumble and recede from you at once, the sound jumped up your throat before you could stop,
âWhat the FUCK is your problem, Joel?!â
âThere it is,â Joel just flared his nostrils as he jerked himself above you, âThereâs that nasty fuckinâ mouth.â
He pulled your head even rougher and tipped your chin back to meet the scowl on his face. Pleasure had almost swallowed the man whole, yet his expression scarcely betrayed a trace of it, eyes cold and jaw clenched tight.
âIf that mouth canât be good for me, can it open real wide and show me how a dirty slut does it?â
You were beside yourself. Holding his gaze like a bomb might go off in his brain any secondâsomething youâd be happy to seeâyou scowled as well. Begrudgingly, and knowing Joel wouldnât ease off of this punishment until heâd made you pay for your language, you nodded.
âWhatâsâat?â Joel snapped, stroking himself even faster, âWhat do ya want me to do, sugar?â
You gritted your teeth and silently wished they were crushing his balls to powder between them.
âWantâŚyouâŚto cumâŚon my face.â
âLittle louder, sweet pea, canât hear ya from up here.â
The sound of his palm working over his cock again and again, shimmery and slick with your arousal soaking it, was almost too much to bear. You watched, forlorn and silently boiling with rage as Joel stared down at you, as merciless as heâd ever been. Mocking, almost, it seemed.
âWant you toâŚcum on me, please.â
âOne more time, darlinâ,â Joel pressed, pupils blown wide with desire, âBe real sweet and say it one more time fââ
âI WANT YOU TO CUM ON MY FACE, YOU FUCKER.â
That sparked the first real smile on Joelâs lips youâd seen in a while, and then he was watching you cockily, nodding.
Before you could even think to blink, stand up, or storm off again, you felt a fat, sticky-wet glob of warmth hit your cheek. Then another. Then another. Then another. You winced and flinched back, but Joel held your head in place, in front of his cock, and gripped you firmly as he unloaded rope after rope of his cum all over your face.
By the time he was finished, your skin was glistening. Coated in the stuff and still blinking through strings of the hot, sticky mess as Joel stood over you, chest heaving fast as he pumped himself through his release.
Must be fucking nice.
When the downpour had slowed to a trickle, two thick fingers swiped at a dollop of cum on your cheek. Then, wordlessly, they moved down to your mouth.
âOpen,â Joel commanded.
Youâd barely parted your lips a quarter of an inch when he pushed both digits inside. Swirled them around in your mouth and made sure to cover every soft, wet contour and crevice before pulling out with a pop.
He wiped at your other spend-streaked cheek and repeated the action, plunging his fingers in and out of your mouth to make sure you cleaned him thoroughly. This was more of an act meant to tease than anything else, you knew, almost demeaning in the way he stood there and nodded his head while murmuring, ââAtta girl.â
You hated how much you liked that stupid show of dominanceâand, even worse, how good he tasted.
Joel brushed your tongue with another fingerful and watched you bob your head in time. He hummed his approval and scanned your face for any spend left over.
There was a lot. He paused, as if considering something.
âDrop âem.â Joel motioned to the straps of your dress.
You did as he said and pulled both bands down at once. When your breasts spilled out of the fabric, you watched Joel lower his gaze and, fixating on the spot youâd just exposed to him, take twoâno, threeâcareful fingers to collect the remainder of himself and spread it downward.
Joel took his cum and smeared it all over your tits.
He was equal parts meticulous, gentle, and gratuitous in doing so, and he took pleasure in every second.
With a heavy-lidded, glossy gaze trained unwaveringly on your chest, Joel rolled each nipple between forefinger and thumb and fell into a trance. Rubbed you up and down every inch he could find and groaned at the sight. Glazing your skin all over with him and savoring it.
You couldnât deny the feeling of being marked in a way so degrading, dirty, and adoring at once had a dizzying effect on you, too. The look in his eyes, and the soft brush of his fingers, almost quelled your rage entirely.
Almost.
When Joel pulled your spaghetti straps back into placeâand you, in turn, back onto your feetâyou yanked away. Forcefully. While Joel straightened up, silently cursed his bad back, tucked his dick in his pants, and started to reach for your waist, you jabbed the fastest, fattest, fuck-your-whole-family middle finger in his face and took off.
âHoneyââ
âDonât.â
âBut Iââ
âHave some goddamn fucking nerve.â
Youâd nearly made it to the staircase again, heels turning to start down the first steps, when Joel sidestepped at lightning speed and blocked off your passage. All you saw then was the front of a starch white dress shirt and a light patch of chest hair peeking out from the highest button, crowding your vision, moving in time with every manoeuvre you tried to make around him. He smelled like sweat and fresh citrus. Perhaps a hint of vengeance.
You wouldnât meet his gaze when he grabbed your face. Tried to shrug him off when he made as if to pull you into a hugââAre you off your shit?! Are you?! People are right downstairsââand Joel just smiled. Grinned like a jackass eating briars, about five times too smug for his own good, and drew you into his chest by gentle turns.
You werenât sure why you recoiled when he kissed you.
Hell, youâd done it a dozen times beforeâalbeit a bit more frantically, in a way to say âI need to fuck youâ when words just wouldnât sufficeâbut this one was different. Deeper. Joel was gripping both sides of your face and still grinning as he kissed you, feeling your muscles slacken some and your frame meld gently into his.
You hated it.
âI missed you,â Joel murmured between kisses.
Hated him.
âHowâs my baby been, huh?â
Oh, you know, just waiting. Hating you a little. Hoping we didnât inadvertently create a baby ourselves, courtesy of your prehistoric condoms.
âI missed you.â Gently. Again.
You tensed in his hold when his lips trailed down to your neck. You felt a low flutter. It was like your feet had been glued to the floor and your tongue left wholly immobile; you let Joel caress, kiss, and whisper down your skin like every cell beneath his touch wasnât seething en masse.
Your stolen climax. Broken condom. Close call with your father and Tommy. Radio silence ongoing for days.
You couldnât wrap your head around any of it, or him, or how grossly inconsistent the manâs every move upon you now seemed to be with the way heâd acted all week.
Joel slowly descended your body.
âLike I said, honeyâŚyou fuck with my head,â he said soft against your dress, then your legs, then the space in between them.
âMakes two of us,â you grumbled back.
You braced your weight against the railing over the stairs just behind you when he slipped your panties to the floor. Then he tucked them snug into one of his back pockets and brought his face to your wet, aching core.
âDiscipline doesnât come easy, does it?â It sounded like something trapped between a question and a declarative coming out from the side of Joelâs mouth.
Fortunately for you, he didnât try to clarify which of the two he meant, or do much else at all except eat your pussy from that point on. He kissed your thighs, gripped them tighter, then wedged his face between them while you held fast to the metal behind you. You stifled a moan when his tongue traced over the seam of your cunt.
You didnât have to like the man to love what his mouth could do for you, you silently reminded yourself.
Love it you couldâand would. Without shame.
Granted, you were still sensitive as all hell from your last almost-orgasm of the night, but Joel knew how to work his lips and tongue around it. He swiftly lapped between your folds, teased a finger at your hole, and wrapped his warm lips around your clit to suck once or twice, and you were damn near ready to spiral in seconds. You fisted the soft salt-and-pepper hair at the top of his head and rutted your hips in short, shallow motions against him.
âGood girl,â Joel crooned, welcoming each thrust with another swirl of his tongue, âThatâs my sweet baby.â
âJoel.â
You traded expletives for the simple repetition of his name, not wanting the pleasure to stop. Joel hummed and sucked and held your legs around him even tighter.
You sighed, almost whined, and dug your fingertips into his scalp, feeling your climax building quick inside you.
Joelâs mouth was working faster, sucking harder, drawing smaller and crueler circles, lapping eagerly against your arousal and giving it everything he had, it seemed, to work you up to your release. He grunted when you yanked hard on his hair but didnât stop.
In fact, the bastard just kept trying to talk you through it, fluid movements of his own tongue and lips be damned.
âDoinâ so damn good for me, sweet pea, keep goinâ.â There was an apology in there somewhere, working hard to atone for the orgasm heâd denied you right before.
Four more flicks of his tongue and a gentle endeavor to pump his fingers in and out, again and again, right above that soft, spongy pad of pleasure deep inside had you teetering over the edge of a cliff.
You tore your gaze from Joel for a second, preparing for that sweet and lusty consummation, when your head turned to the side just slightly. You almost groaned.
Your own hot, flushed, and fucked-out reflection was the first thing to greet you in a sliver of a mirror on the wall. Just beneath you, as you couldâve expected, there was Joelâkneeling between your legs with his chin tipped up, beard coated in moisture and pleasure and warmth. You werenât sure why the sight from this angle had such a strong effect, but something about the full view of your bodies in motion gave your stomach a pinch. A burn. You ogled the glass and made a sound audibly higher in pitch than a whimper as Joel suckled and tongued at your clit.
You came just like thatâgripping the rails, fisting his hair, rutting your hips, and staring implacably at that mirror.
When Joel resurfaced, you were still fully transfixed.
Gawking at how fucking nice he looked between your thighs. How filthy it all was to be seated on his face and cumming for his tongue while the rest of your fatherâs dinner party mingled blissfully unaware downstairs.
When you saw Joel rise, you jerked your head back.
You werenât sure why it felt like being caught, but it did.
Just as you began to murmur some half-assed apology his way, you felt hands on your hips and a rock-hard bulge at your rear as Joel spun you round in front of him.
He shoved you flush against the mirror so your tits were pressed up to the glass. He gave you a quick once-over.
Slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders and shimmied the fabric down your chest, once again.
With your breasts splayed out in front of you and your hands pressing hard on the mirrorâas if letting up the slightest bit might send you straight through itâyou tried to crane your neck. You felt the sticky squelch of cum and fresh spit painted over your chest, muddying up the glass with every movement you made. Your chin dug deep in your shoulder as you cocked your head to the left, eyes searching for Joelâs behind you.
You heard the clink of a belt, followed by a rustle of fabric. Then a hand slamming close beside your head on the mirror, while another worked industriously to free his cock from the confines of his trousers once more.
âJoel,â you breathed, still tender from your climax.
âHm?â
He was gruff as he rubbed and smacked your bare ass with his cock. Let it rest on the soft, fleshy shelf between you two and teased his length over that space.
âDid someone take his little blue pill today?â you teased.
âFuck off.â You saw a flicker of a smirk in the mirror.
No way Joel Miller was getting a full-fledged erection twice in the same ten minute span. That shit didnât happen outside the realm of porn flicks and a womanâs wildest fantasies when it came to men Joelâs age. He knew it just as well as you but tried to feign indifference when he pressed the head of himself to your folds. He did, however, suck in a breath at the new sensation.
He could do this.
He could cockwarm you raw, tonguefuck your cunt, ravage and render you all but brainless on the surface of that mirror, and still have the wits about himself to take another breath. He could show those shit-for-brains college boys heâd been battling for days in the depths of his mind how much better he could fuck you than them.
Really, Joel was just manifesting at this point.
He hadnât busted a nut and fucked this quick since Bill Clinton had been in office. All hat and no cattle whatsoever for this pussywhipped cowboy.
âBetter hope I go easy on ya, sugar.â
âBest believe I wonât.â You wouldâve winked if you werenât so bone-crushingly aroused and fresh off your peak.
Joel had just chuckled, more than a touch nervous, and began rubbing your warmth to coat himself in itâangling his slightly apprehensive penis up to your cunt when you straightened some. Rather than keep your tits to the mirror, you chose to press your back against him, ass snug to his front and eyes roaming wildly over the reflection of your two forms. Both of you flinched when the head of his cock hitched around your entrance.
Joelâs Adamâs apple bobbed in his throat just over your shoulder. He pressed a kiss to your skin.
âGotta be the sweetest thing I ever seen,â he whispered into your ear. Meeting your gaze in the mirror and lifting his hips just so before breaching your folds.
He hoped youâd take it for sweetness and not just a vicious strain of anxiety or weakness as he prepared for the first thrust. Heâd need a second, a minuteâmaybe a goddamned hour, if he was being real honest. You were too damn pretty to be fucked by a two-pump chump.
Joel nudged his nose against your ear and tried to stall. Pausing a beat.
âNever been humped and dumped before, yaknow.â
Waitâthe fuck?
That came out wrong.
You cocked a brow and tilted your hips. You didnât seem keen on talking but had no choice but to humor him.
âThe hellâs that supposed to mean?â you hummed.
Joel balked at his own stupidity, trying, and failing, to remove his foot from his mouth and remedy his words.
âI mean, Iâ I get it,â he returned, too fast for his liking, âIâm no texter myself, I justâŚthought, uh, maybeââ
âMiller. Spit it out.â
Your body was all but leaking arousal before him and the man was trying to divert the conversation toâŚphones?
Joel winced.
Felt his member deflate with embarrassment just a bit.
NO! No. No. JustâŚfuck. Stay hard. Please, stay hard.
Heâd done it to himself. Tried to hamper sex for a second too long just to give his dick a fighting chance at survival and ended up mucking things up supremely. Per usual.
âYou never texted me back.â He sounded blunt now. Rushed.
Joel watched you raise both eyebrows.
âTexted you back?â you scoffed.
âYeahâŚtexted, called, snipchatted, whatever.â
Your face didnât change despite the glaring Gen X error.
âYou never texted me, Joel!â
What?
Suddenly, the dick wedged between your legs and hovering over your cunt seemed to be the last thing either of you could be bothered to worry about.
âIâveâŚbeen texting you all week. Called a few times too.â
âLike hell you have. You ghosted me and went off the grid this whole fuckinâ weekâTommy said so, too.â
Joel cringed again to hear his brotherâs name brought up in this context and shook his head. You were wrong.
â512-867-5309. Been trying to talk to you all goddamn week, see how you were, and you never responded,â he said, indignation creeping into his tone against his will.
At last, your expression dropped.
From furious to frowning to just fucking annoyed. Your lips were drawn tight in a line across your face.
âMy number is 512-867-5305, dipshit.â
âHuh?â
â5 at the end, not a 9.â
ââŚNo.â
âYeahâŚâ
Shit.
Joel Miller had made his fair share of flubs in his life, but fucking up the phone number of his best friendâs daughter whose pussy heâd accidentally cum inside the week before seemed almost criminal. Too fucking asinine and rookie-level dense to ever recover from. He blinked.
âThought youâŚhated my fuckinâ guts,â he confessed.
You threw your hands up in disbelief, frustration. Fury.
âI doâ believe me, I do,â you snapped, âBut not for that.â
âThatâ meaning the last time you two bumped uglies. Joel wasnât sure whether to take heart or step back.
âWhatâsâat mean?â he asked.
You pushed your feet a little further apart on the floor and pressed back into Joel. He took that as a decidedly good sign and reached for your hip. Then took his cock, again, which had invariably twitched and swelled up at the smallest motion from you.
âMeans weâve got plenty of reasons to hate each other, but fuckinâ ainât one of âem,â you shrugged, angling your ass in the perfect place for penetration. Joel was just about back to full-mast and buzzing as you spoke, âI can get over the wholeâŚold dude tabooâyou being dadâs friend and allâI just couldn't stand the thought of you leaving me in the lurch when shit got weird at the end.â
âWeirdâ meaning risky. Virulent. Damn near catastrophic if it ever came to be that one of Joel's swimmers had latched onto one of your eggs and knocked you up. The fear of pregnancy, and every bloodcurdling, awkward conversation to ensue, had been amplified tenfold by the thought that Joel didn't even care one way or the other and couldn't be bothered to text, call, or otherwise show that he didn't totally regret what you'd done in his car. You could handle a clean break, but leaving it on such uncertain terms had been torture. At length, you sighed.
Joel was nosing behind your ear now, a bit less tense.
A little more laid-back and warm this time around, as he, like you, had gotten to exhale a breath of relief realizing that neither of you had deliberately tried to fuck the other over, or ghost, just yet. You'd been pissed at him all night, and he'd been busy barraging a perfect stranger somewhere in Austin with strings of texts and calls all week, but the two of you were ultimately OK. For now.
âBut you still hate me, huh?â Joel spoke low against your skin and felt you soften just a little.
You nodded, careful not to slacken too much.
âMhmm.â
Now Joel was almost glad to have taken that brief, heated detour, because his dick had made a complete comeback and was aching to tease you some more. He grabbed the base of his length and slotted it slow as ever between your folds. Rolled his hips forward and pushed you both a little closer to the mirror. One of your hands flew up to steady yourself, and Joelâs hand followed. He laid his palm over the back of yours and pressed in.
âItâd be a real shame if you do,â he said, smirking as he notched the tip of his cock just within the tight ring of muscles at the groove of your cunt, âFor a second there I was starting to think you mightâve liked fucking me, too.â
In the next second, Joel was easing inside you. Feeling you arch into the motion and grabbing hold wherever he could across your front, he pulled you into his chest and felt a streak of coarse pleasure lick up the full length of his spine. Your walls were squeezing him in a brand new way, a novel position, and he was starting to fear there wasn't any place he could fuck you that wouldn't send him veering for release within his first two strokes inside.
He bucked his hips a little something like an amateur, he thought, getting used to taking you like this. You were moaning, holding his fingers between your own atop the mirror as you squeezed your pussy tight around his cock, and he hoped that meant you hadn't minded the few stuttered, desperate strokes he'd delivered at first.
âI loveâŚfucking you, Joel,â you seethed at last.
Then, wordless as it was pointed, finding his gaze in your reflection, âI still hate you, Miller. Thereâs a difference.â
He slammed into your ass and quickly got the sense that you liked it this fastâloving, lusting, or despising him otherwise. Almost needed it a bit frantic and rapid-fire when he was fucking you from the back, he reckoned.
Joel looked you in the eye from his view behind you in the mirror and saw it clear as day. He almost grinned.
You were wildly fucked out and in need of quick release.
For once in his life, he could oblige you on that, easy.
He slid his cock in and out, rutting much quicker than he ever thought youâd want it, and he grunted. Slipped a hand between your thighs and felt you pulse around him, involuntarily, when his fingers found your clit. He could tell by that grip, and those febrile little whimpers, that you were loving this just as much as him and probably were as close, if not closer, to a new, shuddering climax.
Joel plunged deep inside your cunt and drew you closer.
Taking your throat in one hand, he nudged your body into the glass and smirked, drunk with the feel of you.
âYa like it when I fill this pussy, huh? Love feeling me deep inside this needy little hole?â he murmured, slow and taking care to draw out the syllables in each word.
You nodded that you did. Rocked your hips back to meet his thrusts and moaned.
âI love it, daddy,â you managed weakly, âLove it so much.â
The fingers at your clit increased in speed, and Joel rutted into you even harder, relishing the soft squelch between your bodies as he moved. Then he reached for a fistful of your hair and, instead of pulling back like he might normally have done, he pushed in. He pressed your face in the mirror, turned to the side, and pistoned his hips even faster. Felt your moans spill out across the glass and mix with his own, and he couldnât help but let a raw, primal impulse take over his thrustsâand tongue.
âYou make the prettiest fuckinâ noises, yâknow that?â Joel breathed, hunched over and close to your ear.
Before you could so much as acknowledge his praises, bob your head, or moan in response, he shifted the hand in your hair again. This time turning your face toward the mirror, he brought your lips within inches of the glass and made you watch him fuck you, again and again.
You trailed your gaze over your full reflection and almost whined out loud, ripe with desire and ready to cum just seeing how good he looked as he took you from behind.
With his brow furrowed, pupils blown, hair a fucking mess, lips parting slightly with the strain of every grunt and moan, and hips rolling repeatedly, furiously into your own, Joel looked about as handsome as you thought youâd ever seen him. You felt the soft nudge of his tummy behind you, the tightened grip on your hip and in your hair, and within seconds, you were nearly there.
âMy pretty. fuckinâ. girlââ Joel managed through gritted teeth, each word punctuated with a thrust, ââand her pretty. fuckinâ. moans.â Then, bringing his beaming, sweaty expression right next to yours in the mirror, âReady to cum for me, pretty girl?â
You curled your toes into the floor and nodded, slotting your fingers through his own when he planted a hand above you again,
âSoâ so close, daddy.â
Joel squeezed your fingers back. Kept your faces damn near side-by-side in the mirror and relished the marked change in your features when he grazed that spot inside. You let out the filthiest, fuckdrunk moan and didnât need another strokeâyou came around his cock with a tight, pulsing spasm, seizing his hand, rocking your hips back into his hard as the pleasure washed over your body.
Joelâs cock absorbed every last delicate throb, hot and heavy enough to send the man spiraling himself. He braced his front tight against your body and kept fucking you through your release, groaning a vicious, desperate bout when he felt that deep-seated urge to spill his seed.
Fuck. Heâd have to pull out. Now.
Just as his own climax was close at handâclose as he could ever, or should ever feel it while still inside youâJoel reached down for your hip to pull out and cum all over your ass, but he was brought to a stop. Swiftly.
To his surprise, it was you pulling off of himâsliding off his cock and dropping to your knees as if to take him in your mouth.
Thank fuck.
Joel grabbed his dick as quick as he possibly could and moved to start stroking himself over your face, when your hand closed around his own. Stopping him. Again.
You grinned.
Feeling the slightest twinge of retributive pleasure at seeing him like this, just like heâd had you, your smile stretched even bigger. Joel couldâve wept at the sight.
You brought your lips to his cock and grazed it, barely.
âWanna try something fun?â
He knew better than to let a moan slip at a time like this.
Not when he was sitting at the dinner table; not when he was surrounded by the people he knew and loved the most. Not when he was celebrating his best friendâs fifty-first birthday, and certainly not when that manâs daughter was currently perched between his thighs, out of sight from every eye at the party but his.
Joel lifted the tablecloth. He almost came on the spot.
This was your idea of âfun.â
Payback by any other name wouldâve smelled as sweet.
Seeing your mouth open wide and your lips curled tight around his hot, throbbing member, Joel couldnât help but ache for reprieve, or else a split-second lapse of judgmentâone where he forgot all sense of decorum and simply went to town on that pretty little face of yours. But, as it was, the rest of the party was totally oblivious to your absence, and he didnât want to draw attention to it, or him, by roughfucking your mouth.
That would come later.
No, now he would let you glide your mouth gently over his shaft, leaving trails of thick spit and hints of a shiny pink lip gloss in its wake. Heâd let you bob your head softlyâself-assured in a pace you got to setâand he wouldnât lay a finger on your face or let a thrust of his get in the way, because this was all about you giving him the pleasure. Maybe making him squirm just a little, too.
That didnât mean he couldnât steal a glimpse every now and then and pin you with an expectant look when he wanted something done his way. The room was dimly lit and everyone in it drunk; Joel would gladly take the risk.
âYou can go deeper than that, sweet pea.â
âNope, three-fourths ainât enough, I need your mouth around me whole.â
âYou did wanna make daddy feel good, didnât ya, sugar?â
He didnât have to speak a word of it out loud for you to know what he meant. What he needed. You loosened your jaw and stretched your lips even wider, whining just a little when the head of his cock grazed your tonsils.
âFuck that feels nice,â Joel said aloud.
You froze.
Then, without missing a beat, you heard him continue just as comfortably, speaking to the people around him,
âYâall feel that breeze cominâ in?â
Sick fuck. You continued to suck him anyway.
One hand braced tight against Joelâs leg and the other moved shamelessly between your own, and you tried not to moan, but the sound escaped anyway. No one heard it, but Joel felt it reverberate down his shaft, and he gripped his glass of Merlot like a vice. Your dad shot him a curious look from across the table but said nothing.
âCanât get enoughâa her, huh?â Tommy grinned beside him.
âWhat?â Joel faltered. Set his drink aside carefully.
Down below, you dragged your mouth just far enough to take his tip between your lips and suckle. Joel grunted.
âThe wine,â Tommy said, still smiling, âYou must love it.â
Joel let out another strangled breath that he tried to pass off as a chuckle and nodded.
âGot me on my fuckinâ knees,â he admitted.
And that was the truth. Starved for air and blinking through tears as you knelt down to blow him, it was still you with the chokehold on Joel, and both of you knew it.
Try as you might to convince yourselves otherwise, the man was enrapt. Too spellbound to turn down your offer of sucking him dry under the dinner table just minutes after heâd almost cum all over your face, Joel was in it, and he was in it deep. It was just that small matter of you being his best friendâs daughter that made him loath to admit it. At any rate, he had your tongue licking strips up his cock and felt a sudden, sharp clench in his stomach.
He knew he wouldnât last much longer. Neither would you.
Joel couldnât see it then, but youâd practically soaked your own hand from how hard youâd been rubbing your clitâignoring his orders not to touch yourself thereâso turned on from just sucking his dick and needing to feel relief while you selflessly, secretly pleased him beneath the table. While Joel reached for another draught of wine, you brought one hand to his balls and kept the other at your cunt, triple-tasking like the efficient little slut he needed you to be: sucking, cupping, and rubbing all at once to get the two of you off in one minute or less.
You guided him down to the furthest place in your throat, then pushed him even deeper. You gagged just slightly and felt a hand reach down for your cheek. A thumb began to rub at the tears welled up at the corners of your eyes.
âSweet thing hasnât felt a man this deep before, huh? Wanna swallow some more?â
You nodded that you did. Couldnât actually hear him now, or see much else besides the soft tufts of hair on his belly, but you could feel a light, heady warmth seep into your brain.
You rutted your hips and just hoped no one dropped a fork nearby. Bucked desperately into your hand and felt the heat start to swell to a whole new feeling, and suddenly you were whimpering, whining on Joelâs cock from under the shade of the table and cumming all over your fingers.
Joel returned a quick smile from your father and cracked a joke about the Super Bowl. Raised his hips just the slightest bit and wiped one of your tear-soaked cheeks.
âAlmost there, hon, keep that throat open for daddy.â
All you could do was cry and try your best. Wild feelings from both the slow, deep facefuck he was giving you and the flurry of euphoric aftershocks coursing all throughout your body made it almost impossible to bear, but you obeyed your sweet and strong and steady-handed Joel and sensed a blossoming desire crop up for something else.
You wanted to taste him as he blew his load in your mouth, flooded your tongue with his spend, and painted every inch of your insides with that hot, sticky stuff.
You needed him whole.
Your Joel.
In tune with your thoughtsâor perhaps just overcome with a need to see you before he reached his peakâJoel raised the tablecloth the slightest bit when Tommy wasnât looking. His gaze locked on yours, and his tongue darted quick between his lips. He cocked a brow. Brushed his thumb again and looked down as if to say,
âYa want this, darlinâ? Want all of me?â
You gave a soft nod, and that was all he needed.
No sooner had you given him the green light than his cum went pulsing out in ropes, coating your throat and eventually your whole mouth as you held still and took it all.
There was so much more than you thought. So much of Joel that had been waiting to give your mouth a proper fucking glaze that once heâd started he just couldnât stop. Above the table, your dad shot a pointed look in his directionââYou good, man?ââand it took every ounce of strength in Joelâs body to grit his teeth tight and nod.
Heâd filled so much of your mouth it was spilling out.
You tried to hold steady, keep your movements extra slow. Youâd heard your dadâs voice and just knew thereâd be a lot more on the line than Joelâs dribbling seed if either one of you fucked up now. Your breath caught in your chest, and you felt too afraid to even swallow.
âI justâŚcame,â Joel started, and your head almost cracked on the wood surface from how abruptly you flinched back,
ââto the realizationââ
ââthat youâŚare soâŚmotherfuckinâ old, my friend.â
Your fatherâs laugh was the first you heard, followed by Tommy, his friends, and a dozen other party guests.
The next thing you felt, to your complete and utter shock, was Joelâs cock brushing your cheek. Then your lips. Then your tongue. He slid his still-hard member through the âoâ your mouth had made in awe and started to move in gentle motions back and forth, like a man all but aching to get a feel for your wet, sodden walls.
A man who couldnât risk a glimpse now, but wanted more than anything to see the mouth heâd just filled.
Your fatherâs words hadnât even cooled in the air.
Joel Miller, you sneaky, freaky fuck.
As the laughter subsided, and Tommy scooted back in his chair to take leave of your table, you felt a spark ignite. Whether it was yours or Joelâs or both your perverted minds suddenly alight and insane with the same thought, you couldnât be sure, but you could make out the sound of a tablecloth flipping back up above you.
Joel slipped his dick out of your mouth and grinned. Took a firm hold of your face under the table so his fingers were coaxing your jaw to unhinge before him.
It was the lowest, slowest, menacing sort of sound youâd ever heard from him before, but it was his all the same.
Speaking to you now, softly, âShow daddy, darlinâ.â
You thought you might like to see him that way forever.
Eyes honey-soft and glazed, thumb toying at your lip. Chest heaving up and down in time to your own breaths and growing ragged as you opened your mouth to him. He was sated and somehow unfulfilledâa bottomless pit of raw prurience as he stared down and held your gaze. Hair tousled, pants unbuckled, cock resting comfortably against your cheek, the man looked wonderfully undone and half in love with your sweet face peering up at him.
You couldnât deny you loved doing this, too.
Youâd just wished he saw Tommy before Tommy saw you.
#C*MPLAY IS BACK IN A BIG WAY#IT NEVER LEFT#joel miller smearing it on YOUR FACE????? IN THIS ECONOMY???#i would never shut up#i already never shut up but especially then#joel miller#joel miller tlou#joel miller smut#joel miller imagine#joel miller one shot#joel miller x reader#joel miller fanfiction#the last of us#tlou#the last of us fic#joel miller x you#dbf!joel
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[ TANGERINE DREAMS ]
Completed!
Summary: being stood up on his wedding day, Aemondâs life takes a turn for the worse. Heartbroken and humiliated, he finds unexpected help in Helaenaâs childhood friend, who helps him move back into his family mansion. Summer cocktail parties and a long stay at the Targaryen residency, Aemond might let the girl whoâs always been in his life make a home in his heart.
Tangerines, in general, symbolize prosperity, good luck and happiness. So if these delicious fruits appear in your dreams - whole or in the form of juice - it is usually very positive. A dream with tangerines expresses the desire and the possibility of progress and prosperity
Warnings: modern au, old money! Targaryens, Smut (18+ mdni!), fluff, angst, summer romance, every chapter will have individual warnings<3
Authorâs note: welcome to the first actual series that Iâm sharing!! I really really wanted to start a summer romance series for Aemy and this thought and idea came up so suddenly and here we areeee. This is just a sunshine fic with a tinge of heartbreak and possible future angst, but all in all itâs a happy story because Aemond deserves some happiness! Reblogs & comments are most appreciated and I deeply hope you like this as much as I do while writing it<3đ
Taglist: ITS CLOSED!!!! if you wish to be tagged on the future chapters, please fill this form! (Fill it with your username!)
Character ages<3
Series MasterlistâŹ
Chap.1 -> runaway bride
Chap.2 -> under the Weirwood tree
Chap.3 -> the beginning of something new
Chap.4 -> Push & Pull
Chap.5 -> kissing his heart
Chap.6 -> a summer worth living
Chap.7 -> country club
Chap.8 -> ruins of a birthday
Chap.9 -> donât let me be misunderstood
Chap.10 -> falling forever
#aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen x reader#prince aemond targaryen#aemond targaryen smut#aemond targaryen fluff#aemond targaryen angst#aemond fanfiction#hotd fanfic#aemond targaryen x you#aemond x reader#aemond x you
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4 plus 1 - Max Verstappen (I â¤ď¸ MILFS verse)
Words: 1,499 Summary: Four times Logan celebrated mothers day and the first time he celebrated fathers day (part of the I â¤ď¸ MILFS verse)
Masterlist | Support Me! | I â¤ď¸ MILFS verse
One
The first time Logan celebrated Motherâs Day, he was five. His grandpa had stolen him away from his momma, which had made him pout, but then he had crouched down in front of him and quietly asked if he wanted to buy his momma a present for Mother's Day.
His grandpa, whenever he told the story, always liked to joke that he was surprised that Loganâs head hadnât fallen off with how hard he had nodded yes.
He had gotten taken to the store where Logan picked out a card that apparently said worldâs best mom on it, which had made his grandpa grumble that he was way too young for his daughter to be a mom before letting him pick out a big bouquet of flowers.
Scrambling out of the car and into the house, Logan struggled to hold the flowers that were nearly bigger than him and the card, just barely able to see the way his mommaâs jaw had dropped seeing him and the ways tears came to her eyes when he cheerfully wished her a happy mommaâs day.
Two
In 2014, Logan got to celebrate motherâs days twice for the first time. His momma not even knowing or realizing that England celebrated it on a completely different day, her bemused expression at him giving her candy and a card staying in his mind.
She had still hugged him tight, pressing kisses all over his face and telling him she was the best son, which had made him squirm, telling her that she was the best momma, the two going back and forth until Logan gave up because she had started to tickle him and his stomach ached from laughing.
Three
Logan stares at the display in front of him, trying not to feel awkward with the eyes boring into him.
âDude, these are like fifteen grand.â Oscar hisses under his breath. âYeah and none of them are the one.â He hisses back, giving the employee a polite smile. âDo you have anything else?â Their eyes narrow a little, but they nod, an emotionless smile on their face. âOf course, Sir. Our next display.â
Following them over to the next display, his eyes immediately land on a necklace and he instantly points at it. âThat one. Iâll take that one, please.â âAre you sure?â He frowns, âYes. Iâm sure.â
He turns to Oscar as they start to open the case. âMomma is gonna love that one.â âDo you have the money for that?â âOf course.â Oscarâs eyebrows raise. âAre you sure? Because if those were twenty thousand, I canât imagine how much these will be.â Logan nods, shrugging. âYeah. Iâve got money.â
The clearing of a throat makes Logan turn back around, the necklace is sitting on the counter in its opened box.
âThis necklace is forty thousand pounds.â Logan hears Oscar taking in a sharp breath of air, but Logan is already reaching for his wallet. âIâll take it. And no gift wrap please.â They blink at him before nodding. âOf course.â
Oscar hits his arm when they disappear with the necklace behind a curtain.
âAre you kidding me? Forty thousand pounds for a necklace? Pan is going to kill you! Mother's Day gift or not!â Logan scoffs, rolling his eyes. âIâm eighteen now and itâs my money. Momma canât kill me for buying her this. Besides, I havenât given her a gift under a thousand dollars since I was like six. And sheâll love that necklace.â Oscar looks at him in disbelief, shaking his head. âOkay, it is way too easy to forget that Harry is a billionaire and by proxy you are.â âSomething tells me you donât want to know how much your birthday present was.â âWhat does that mean?â Logan smiles at Oscar, shrugging. âLogan, what does that mean?â
Four
âCan I help with anything?â Logan jumps at the sound of Maxâs voice, nearly banging his head into the opened cupboard door if not for Max, quickly yanking him back. âShit.â He curses, turning Logan around and running a hand over his forehead and head, checking for bumps. âYou okay?â âIâm okay. You just scared me.â He chuckles. âHelp with what?â Max eyes him for a moment. âMother's Day. I know that itâs in between Miami and Imola for you guys, and I didnât know if you wanted help with anything.â âOh.â
Logan looks at the older man, he doesnât need any help with Mother's Day. Already has his mommaâs gift sitting in his closet, but Max is asking if he can help. Max cares about their relationship, so he finds himself nodding.
âActually yeah.â Maxâs whole face lights up. âWhat can I do?â Logan quickly says goodbye to his mommaâs Christmas gift, but he guesses that what was supposed to be her Mother's Day can just be her Christmas gift. âThereâs this watch she likes, but thereâs maybe ten available in the world right now.â He starts to tell Max.
Plus One
Logan has never had a father. And as much as he loves his grandpa, he wasnât really a father figure for him. The closest he got was maybe Oscarâs dad, but even then he never really saw him enough for that. Max though⌠Max feels like his dad.
He cares about him, and not just because heâs dating his mom. He talks to Logan, checks in on him, before the first session of every day, Max always ducks into the Williams garage to hug him. He brings him water every time he does media, even when he isnât scheduled for media for a few hours.
It hasnât yet been a year, but Logan already can tell heâs fighting a losing battle of not just calling Max his dad. And he knows that Max hasnât let himself think of himself like that. Heâs heard him call him his kid a hundred times, but never once has he called himself Loganâs parent or dad. Always respecting the relationship between his mom and him and the boundaries that Logan has set.
But Logan wants Max to call himself Loganâs dad. Wants to call Max dad to his face and not just to Oscar when heâs too tired to filter or to the media to make the journalists go a little crazy.
So he finds himself laying on the couch, head in his mommaâs lap as she runs her fingers through his hair.
âCan we talk?â âAlways.â His lips quirk up a bit at the quick response. âItâs about Max.â Her fingers still for just a second before resuming. âWhat about Max?â Her voice is measured, smooth, and it gives Logan the courage to say the next words. âI want to call Max dad.â His voice goes quiet. âI want him to be my dad.â âOh, baby.â And her voice breaks around the words.
He sits up to look at her. âAre you mad?â âNo.â She smiles, reaching forward to cup his face. âNo, baby. Not at all. Iâm happy. Iâm so happy.â âSo, itâs okay?â She laughs, her free hand brushing away her tears. âLogan, you can call anyone you want dad, thatâs not my choice, thatâs yours.â âDo you think heâll be okay with it? I want to do it on Father's Day. Give him a card too.â âI think Max will be over the moon.â
A week later, Logan shuffles into the living room, a breakfast tray in his hands, where Max is sitting, watching the recap for Le Mans so far.
âHi.â He greets. Max smiles at him, âYou didnât need to bring me breakfast.â He shakes his head, stopping Max from getting up. âI wanted to. Itâs a special day.â âI mean, Le Mans isnât this kind of special.â Logan huffs out a laugh, handing over the tray to Max, who places it on the coffee table before sitting on the couch next to him.
âGet enough sleep?â Logan nods, running a hand through his hair, the other clutching at the card he has for Max. âWasnât too bad. I actually have something else for you, because yâknow special day.â Maxâs eyebrows raise and Logan can feel nerves fill him. âI still have no idea what you are talking about.â He shrugs and after a moment he passes over the card, carefully watching Maxâs face.
Max looks delighted at getting handed the card, but Logan can see the moment he realizes what kind of card it is. His eyes going wide, his whole body stilling. The room would be quiet if not for the Le Mans highlights playing.
The older man carefully opens it up after a long moment, his breath catching as he reads the written words from Logan.
âLogan,â he starts, and his voice is thick. âHappy Father's Day, dad.â Logan speaks before he can say anything else. âCome here.â He finishes, opening his arms, and Logan dives into them. âI love you so much, kid. So fucking much. Iâm gonna be the best dad for you.â âYou already are.â
#f1 imagine#formula 1 imagine#f1 x reader#formula 1 x reader#max verstappen imagine#logan sargeant imagine#max verstappen x reader#I â¤ď¸ MILFS verse#sins fics
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SKZ!Reactions: It Was All a Bet II (Hyung Line)
Part 1 Maknae Line Masterlist
A/N: I put this out as like a little birthday present for myself lol but yeah, i hope you guys enjoy. a lot of you have requested this and have been waiting on the edge of your seat for this so here it is. i hope it lives up to you guys expectations.
Chan:
A series of rapid knocks slammed against your door; you roll your eyes from your position on the couch not moving a single inch to open the door. Turning up the volume on your t.v you hear your phone ring, seeing Chanâs contact name on your screen you snort to yourself. Another round of knockâs bang against your door. âY/N, I know youâre home! Please just talk to me!â Chan pleads on the other side of the door. You shake your head to yourself, continuing to ignore him. You turn the volume up on your t.v. again drowning Chan out as you try to ignore the ache in your chest. The betrayal you felt beyond measure as you remember the way he laughed as he jeered at his friends about his win almost being guaranteed. How could he? You thought he loved you. You believed him every time he kissed you and held you close. The nights you spent wrapped in each otherâs arms felt real, you couldnât describe the pain you felt as he uttered those devastating words. It had been 4 days since you heard it, you couldnât handle opening that door and seeing him after he took your heart and smashed it to a million pieces. You sniffle as you wipe a stray tear flowing down your cheek.
âNoâŚDonât cry over himâŚyouâre not some weak heroineâŚ.â You tell yourself as the calls and knocks come to a stop. The sound of your door opening makes you jump in a panic, your eyes widen as you turn to see Chan entering your apartment. You shake your head as he slowly enters, his head hung low as he closes the door behind him. His eyes meet yours and you notice all the tension in him leave his body he reaches toward you, a desperate look on his face as he strides across the room toward you. âBabe--No.â you cut him off monotonously as you look away from him.
âGet out.â You demand.
A look of horror spreads across his features as he stares at you. A painfilled gasp is released from his throat âY-You wont even let me explain?â His voice cracks as his eyes fill with tears. âThereâs nothing to explainâŚ. everything we had was based on a lieâ You counter coldly. He shakes his head as he steps toward you, his heart cracking as you take a step back âN-No..you really misunderstood. PleaseâŚ. please let me explainâŚl-letâs just sit, a-and talk. I promise its not what you thinkâ You shake your head. âIt doesnât matterâŚ. âI asked you out before the bet was madeâ He cuts you off desperately. âI-Im an ass for making the bet but, I never asked you out because of a bet I promise you that.â He continues nervously. Your head whips toward him, your eyebrows scrunch together in confusion as he explains âThe bet was about the length of our relationship. I swear. Im not saying I was right to make the bet, but the guys kept saying that we wouldnât last three months. My schedule is hectic and unpredictable so they kept saying that youâd feel forgotten about and that we wouldnât even be able to make three months. So, I just made the bet and yes, I was stupid, but I love you. You know that I love you and I would never do something so terrible. I made a mistake a huge mistake, but I promise you that I love you and I wonât let my mistake ruin what we haveâŚâ He states as his right hand caresses your cheek as his left encases your waist pulling you into his lean frame, you turn your face away from his as he leans in closer to you.
âHow long did you give us then?â
âWhat?â
âHow long did you bet weâd be together?â
Chan smirks at you flirtatiously as he leans in close to your face brushing his lips over yours âI tried to say for the rest of our lives, but Minho talked me down to a yearâ You blush as he presses his lips against yours softly. âIâm so sorry, I was an ass, and I was so wrong but pleaseâŚ. donât break up with me, okay? I felt like I couldnât breathe when I felt like I was losing you. I love youâ He pouts as he pulls you into his chest his arms wrapping around you firmly. âYouâre still on thin iceâŚ. but I love you tooâ You scold as out look up at him, pecking his lips softly.
Minho:
You stared out the window watching Minho pace in front of your job for the nth time while he contemplated coming inside. You watch him as he lifts his phone from his side as he begins to type out a message before deciding not to and running his hand through his hair. Your heart ached for him as you noticed the distressed look on his face, but you were much too frustrated with him to have sympathy for him. With a heavy annoyed sigh, you make your way from behind the counter and stride toward your ex. Pushing the front door open you glare at him âAt this point, this could be considered stalkingâŚ.â You scold. Minhoâs head perks up as his movementâs halts, the moment he notices you he rushes toward you; his arms wrapping around you as he pulls you against him his legs giving way as he holds onto your waist. His body trembles as you feel your shirt growing wet as loud desperate sobs erupt through his chest as he buries his face in your shirt. âIm sorry, donât break up with me. Im so sorryâ He pleads. You try to shove him off softly.
âNo! Please! Im sorry! Im so sorry pleaseâ
âLee Minho, get ahold of yourself.â
 He shakes his head, âNo. ill beg and plead and do anything I have to so that you can forgive me, and we can be together. Iâll explain, youâll be mad for a while butâbutâŚâ He stares up at you with a pleading pitiful look ââŚwe can figure it out. We can talk about this; we can work this out. I can fix this; Iâll do anything to fix this s-so please donât break up with me. Please at least give me a chance to fix thisâŚ. I need one chanceâ You stare at him in disbelief âWhy so you can finish your year?â A look of heartbreak forms on his features. âI donât care about thatâŚY/NâŚh-how could you say that? How could you ask me that?â His voice cracks, as more tears form in his eyes as he stares down at his lap. âY-You must think Iâm this disgusting person nowâŚ. Fuck!â he cries. âMinho, this is my job. This isnât the place for this.â
âWhere else could I do this? You refused to see me this past week. You wonât answer my callsâyou donât have time for this. Where did you suddenly pull all this free time out your ass? Move on Minho. I found out about your bet to date meâ You cut him off harshly. He finally brings himself to his feet, his hands encasing your shoulders. âDoes that matter? Like truly?â He asks âWhy does it matter? We are together, we care about each other, it doesnât change the things weâve been through this year. So why does it matter how we started?â
âBecause its all a lie!â
âI have never lied to you!â
âOur entire relationship is a lie!â
Minho freezes as he stares at you with a painful expression âY-You donât believe that I care about you? Y/NâŚ. Iâyou said I was tolerable, and that this year was a breeze because of itâ You cut him off. He winces at the mention of his message. âI-I said the wrong thing. T-the guys would know what I meant. I didnât mean to send you that message, and when I realized I didâŚ. Y/N I promise you I never wanted you to find out this way. I was going to tell you, in person and beg you to understand and forgive me. But my feelings for you are real. I love you and I care about you, and this is fucking breaking me right now. so please, j-just give me another chance to show you that you mean more than anything else in this world to me.â You stand there for a moment as you contemplate, you notice your boss staring at you with a disapproving look from inside. You give a sigh, âThis really isnât the timeâŚ. I get out at 8. We can do dinner or something and talk I guessâ you state. Minhoâs eyes light up as he nods enthusiastically pressing his lips to your cheek. âT-thank youâŚYou wont regret this.â
Changbin:
âDo you not know how to read or something?â You growl as Changbin stood in your private studio. Changbin stared at you with a pout on his lips. âItâs been two weeks Y/NâŚâ You shrug âWish it had been longerâ You state as you shove past him and sit at your desk. âHow much longer are you going to punish me? I already apologized. Iâve been calling, texting you. What can I do to get you to talk to me again?â He whimpers as he stares at you sadly. âI donât want to talk to you. Its that simple, Seo Sunbae-nim.â You state professionally. A look of horror and disbelief paint Changbinâs expression âDonâtâDonât do that⌠donât put distance between us like that.â He pleads. You shake your head âIf youâre not here to discuss your next project Iâd suggest you leaveâ You state as you focus on your computer.
âI-Im not leaving. Not until we talk about this.â
âOomph, seems like youâre going to be moving in here. How funâŚ.â
âWhy are you being like this? Why canât we just talk about this? I already said Iâm sorryâyeah, right before you begged me to pretend, I donât know about the bet so you could win.â You cut him off with a look of disgust on your face. Changbin freezes in his place as he stares at the ground as guilt fills his stomach. âThat wasnât the reasonâŚ. I know that I said I needed the money and that it would be doing me a favor but, I was panicking, and I just said whatever came to my mind that I thought would get you to stay with me.â He confesses nervously. âWell, thatâs just stupidâŚâ You state as you continue to stare at the computer pulling up a file for a new rookie group youâve been working with. âIf thatâs all, can you leave? Im going to be having a session soon.â You state monotonously. Changbinâs eyes well up with tears as he turns your chair around, dropping to his knees he stares up at you with pleading eyes. âPlease, please forgive me. I was wrong to make a bet to date you. I would never do anything that terrible again, I would never betray your trust again. Iâm so sorry and I really regret making the bet, but I donât regret dating you. The only good thing to come out of something this stupid is our relationship and how you make me feel. I will do anything to make this better, I can give you time, I can give you space so you can be mad at me all you need. If you want to curse at me in the middle of the night because of the pain Iâve caused you, Iâll answer the call every time. Iâll be your friend if thatâs what you want for now, but I need to know that I will have a chance one day to fix this. I can do that; I will do that. I care about you, and yes, this relationship started without me truly feeling for you the way you did for me, but it is the same now. we love each other and I know I can fix this, please give me a chance to. Please, I can be betterâI will be better for you. Im so sorryâ He begs, a heartbroken expression painted on his features as tears stream down his face. His voice cracked as he spoke, causing the walls you placed around the section of your heart that was filled with Changbin to come crashing down. You stare at him feeling a pitiful guilt at the pain you caused to the man you love.
âB-BinnieâŚâ You whisper naturally. His head perks up as he stares at you hopefully. His hand caresses your cheek. âYou donât understand how sorry I amâ he whispers as he leans in slowly, and hesitant. âSorry canât fix thisâŚ:
âNo, but I canât force you to forgive me and just say yes to staying together when I hurt you. I need you to know how terrible I feel, and I want to turn back time, so I didnât make the stupid bet.â
âWe would have never been together if you didnât...â You state, Changbin shakes his head in denial âNo, we are meant to be together. Even if you donât forgive me nowâŚ. Iâll wait for you because thereâs no one else meant for me. Even if I didnât make that stupid bet, we would have ended up together eventually. Youâre meant for me, and Iâm meant for youâŚ.â
Hyunjin:
You roll your eyes, unamused as you exit your apartment and see Hyunjin standing on your porch as you make your way to your classes. He smiles at you brightly âHey Babeâ choosing to ignore him you brush past him, a monotonous look on your face as you make your way to your car. You resist the urge to look back and see his reaction. HA! Take that âMale Leadâ You snort to yourself mentally. Unlocking your car your eyes widen when Hyunjin pulls open the passenger door and takes a seat before you could enter the car. âThe audacityâŚâ You whisper under your breath. With a sigh, you open the back door pulling out your bag and opting to walk to the university instead. Shrugging the bag over your shoulder you begin making your way down your driveway. âY/N, Are you serious right now?â Hyunjin groans in annoyance as he exits the car closing the passenger door behind him before he walks around the car pressing the lock button before closing the door. You continue walking as he rushes from behind you taking a hold of your forearm and halting your movements. âFuck, donât do this to meâŚ.â He whimpers âTalk to me, look at me, something pleaseâŚâ His voice cracks. You shake your head as you try to pull your arm out of his grasp. His grip grows a little tighter. âIâll explain. We can talk about this.â He pleads.
You continue staring forward and bite your lip, so you donât respond. âYouâre killing me hereâŚyou know that?â He whimpers. âI told you, its just better for you to leave well enough aloneâŚ.â You state coldly. âAnd I told you that Iâm not giving up on youâ Hyunjin counters. You shake your head âIâd rather you did. I wonât be helping you win your bet.â A pained scoff erupts from his throat âIs that why you think Iâm here? That stupid fucking bet?!â He growls angrily. You nod, knowing that the bet probably wasnât the reason, but you allowed the pettiness you felt in the pit in your stomach take over. âYou donât even know what the fucking bet was about!â He shouts angrily.
âExcuse me?â
âYou. Donât. Even. Know. What. The. Bet. Was. About.â He grits. Your eyebrows furrow as anger boils in your stomach âDo I need to? I heard enough. I know you made some bet to date me and would get 500 dollars after a yearâ You argue. âNo. The bet was I would confess to you and prove that I was actually serious about you within a year because I had a habit of developing feelings for any girl that treated me like a fucking person instead of Hwang Hyunjin from Stray Kids. Im not some disgusting prick that would date a girl I have no interest in for fucking pocket change Y/N. itâs not like I need 500 dollars, if you didnât know Im kinda doing well in my career.â He snaps. âI made the bet to prove to myself and the guys that I was actually serious about you. Was it stupid? Yes, but I wonât let you just sit there and say that I was fucking playing around with you when youâre the first girl I want to be serious with in a very long time.â
You stare at him in disbelief. Words not coming to you as you replay his explanation over and over in your mind. It felt like an eternity before you said anything. âThatâs a stupid ass bet if Iâm being honestâ You state with an annoyed pout. âOh, you thought I was smart?â Hyunjin jokes as he leans into you pulling you into a back hug as he rests his chin on your shoulder âCan you please give me another chance? I wont ruin this again. I wonât do anything that stupid again.â He pleads softly, you sigh âPlease just give me sometime to think about it?â Hyunjin groans âPlease? Baby, this is tortureâŚif you werenât going to forgive me, you wouldnât be letting me anywhere near you right now.â
âSo, you should have your answer thenâŚ.â You state sarcastically.
âBut Iâm not sure if you forgave me if you donât say you doâŚ.â He pouts.
You shrug as you pull yourself out of his arms and make your way to your car. âI got a test and Iâll be late, so I have to go.â Hyunjin follows behind you with a kicked puppy expression as you unlock your car once again. âWill I see you after your classes?â He questions sadly. You pull open the driverâs door taking a seat and rolling down the window as the engine roars to life. You wave Hyunjin to lean into your window, he complies with a sad pout. You press your lips to his cheek as you whisper âDepends on your scheduleâŚâ His cheeks heat up turning a bright crimson as his hand caresses the cheek you kissed. You wink at him as you reverse out of the driveway.
Taglist: @corrodedthorn n @lovesunshinefelix @lailac13 @moonchildlv @neyangi @hello-stranger24 @tamlinsfiddle @allyrarara @yangbbokari
#skz angst#stray kids angst#stray kids fluff#stray kids smut#hyunjin angst#stray kids reactions#stray kids imagines#stray kids hyunjin#skz scenarios#skz imagines#skz angst texts#skz fake texts#skz angst reaction#stray kids angst fic#stray kids angst reaction#stray kids scenarios#skz hyung line angst#stray kids hyung line angst#stray kids hyung line fluff#skz hyung line fluff#skz hyung line fluff reactions#bang chan angst#bang chan fluff#skz minho angst#skz minho fluff#changbin angst#changbin fluff#hyunjin fluff
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ęŚęˇ đ đ đ birthday sex ¿¥
pairing bfÂĄdrew starkey x femÂĄreader
summary just reader dealing with horny drew while hes away on his birthday
contatins fluff, slightly suggestive, age gap, drew texting like an old man!!
a/n little birthday texting oneshot because i love him so much agh!!
word count 702
ml <3: Where is my happy birthday?
You grinned, perking up when you noticed the message you received from your boyfriend. You typed in a quick response, knowing how sulky he gets when you take long to reply, especially when heâs away.Â
You: okay damn straight to the point
You: it hasnt even turned 12 yet :(Â
ml <3: GurlÂ
You: men used to go to the war
You: now they have sass competitions w/ their girlfriends đ
ml <3: LolllÂ
ml <3: Thatâs not funny
You: why are you loling then old man
ml <3:: Hey! Iâm not that old
You: well
You: u JUST turned 31Â
You: HAPPY BIRTHDAY BABYYY I LOVE YOU
You: I wish I can see you :(Â
ml <3: Hahaha thank youuuu!
ml <3: I love you beautifulÂ
ml <3: I can't wait to land I miss my pretty girlfriendÂ
You: stawppp blushes like a slut
ml <3: ??? Excuse me!Â
ml <3: Proof? Send picture
You: u nasty
You: are u into that degrading shit
ml <3: I mean
ml <3: I donât mind itÂ
ml <3: If you like it then I do and if you don't then itâs okay. Either way I am happy as long as youâre content baby!
You: stop whyâd u take that so srsly i was joking
You: is this the perks of turning 31
ml <3: Ugh đ
ml <3: You always do this!
You: ugh ure so cute i cant believe ure 21
You: 31* oops
ml <3: Are you shaming me for growing now?
You: no i love u
ml <3: You*Â
You: i have a surprise for u
You: i cant wait for u to landÂ
ml <3: YOU HAVE A SURPRISE FOR ME??? đ
You: yeahahhÂ
ml <3: What is it
ml <3: Please show me Please Pleaseeeeee
You: its a surprise i cant :( when u get home i swear!
ml <3: Did you get me condoms?Â
You: pardon me!
You: when have i ever gotten you condoms for ur birthday
ml <3: đ
You: get that skunky face off my screen
ml <3: đ
You: LMAOÂ
ml <3: Tell me!
You: i cant baby that will ruin the surpriseÂ
ml <3: Are you likeâŚÂ
You: ??? am i what
ml <3: did you actually get me condoms
You: why do u keep bringing up the condoms is it on ur birthday wishlist or something
ml <3: Itâs not a bad presentÂ
You: DREW.Â
ml <3: Can we fuck when I get back
You: oh
ml <3: Ugh I miss you
ml <3: Jusâ thought about fucking you and now Iâm horny
You: are u like
ml <3: Am I what baby
You: are u trolling ahaha is this a joke
ml <3: âŚ
You: drew omff
You: why would you say that
ml <3: Sorry baby
ml <3: Fuck I miss your lips
You: which ones
You: i take that back please dont answer
ml <3: Both
ml <3: Can we have birthday sex please
You: hello??? where did that come from
ml <3:: Sorry Iâm horny
ml <3: Do you think it feels different from normal sex
You: well if i had to guess it would probably be more thrilling, maybe?
ml <3: We should test out that theory
ml <3: Verify whether itâs trueÂ
You: shush omg
You: u suck
ml <3: My dick
ml <3: can you suck my dick when Iâm back
You: omg shut up
ml <3: Is that a no? :(Â
You: yeah⌠ur 31!!! too old 4 me
ml <3: Nah you're right I could be your father
You: k its not that bad
You: itâs only 4 years
ml <3: 6*
ml <3: actually
ml <3: 7 now what the fuck
You: STOPPÂ
You: ure so cute please marry meÂ
ml <3: LolÂ
ml <3: Iâm horny
You: drew omg
ml <3: Should I rub one out in the plane bathroom?
You: đ¤Śââď¸
You: just wait until ure backÂ
ml <3: Wait
ml <3: WAIT AXTUALLY?Â
You: WHAT
ml <3: ARE YOU BEING SERIOUS
ml <3: Omg I am so ExcitedÂ
You: loserÂ
ml <3: So, birthday sex yeah?
You: i hate you
ml <3: i love you too babyÂ
#drew starkey#drew starkey x reader#drew starkey one shot#drew starkey x you#drew starkey x y/n#rafe cameron#outer banks#drew starkey fluff
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3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes
When Spencer doesnât call at midnight on your birthday like he usually does, you believe he truly wants nothing to do with you because of your fight a few days prior. Until there are two FBI agents knocking on your door, neither of which are your apparently missing boyfriend.Â
Spencer Reid X Fem! Reader
DISCLAIMER This story is SFW but mentions strong themes. It is intended for mature audiences only. You are responsible for the content you consume. Make sure to read all necessary warnings. Please remember this is a work of fiction; if you donât like it, donât read.Â
WARNING: Mentions of kidnapping, injuries & vague description of panic attack. Proceed at your own risk.Â
Word count: 8.6K See notes at end for authors note & spoilers.Â
11:57 PM
Eyes trained on the long red hand, you watch as the minutes spin around the clock hanging on the otherwise-empty wall. A century couldâve passed between the last minute and now. It sure as hell feels like it.Â
11:58 PM
The movie meant to keep your mind from replaying the events from a few days ago failed its purpose before you even turned on the T.V. If the time between every minute was a century, then the last time you heard from him must have been an eternity ago. When was the last time you heard from him anyway?
âI donât want to see you anymore. I canât even bear to look at your face right now.â
In all your time together, Spencer had never once raised his voice at you. The fact remained even during your worst fight yet. God, how you wished he had yelled at you. Maybe then he wouldâve needed less time away from you.Â
âYeah? I donât want to be near you anyway. Not when youâre being like this!â
He was unfair. So were you. Surely neither of you truly meant what was said. You wanted to be near him so, so badly. Did he really not want to see you anymore? He must not, or Spencer would have returned at least one of the twenty four calls he ignored.Â
11:59 PM
It was well-intentioned on your part. The migraines were most likely psychosomatic. Otherwise the MRI scans wouldâve picked up on the issue.Â
âYou think Iâm crazy? I am not crazy!â
âSpencer, Iâm not implying that you are! Iâm saying that itâs probably stress induced-â
âNo! No. Thatâs not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.â
âGOD SPENCER! You think that just because your mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, I think you must be one too? Youâre completely reaching! You just donât want to deal with the reality that maybe it is all just in your head!â
12:00 AM
Perhaps he did mean what he said. Heâd still call though, right? If not to return one of your voicemails then to wish you a happy birthday? After everything the two of you shared together he should at least call today.Â
âLeave. Please.â
âSpencer..â
âStop. Please. Leave.â
âWait Spence-â
Unsure of how much longer you could hold out, you uncurl from your fetal position on the sofa and reach over for your phone. Vision peeling from the wall-clock and redirecting to the photo on your lockscreen. How beautiful he looked adorned on your screen. Then again, he always looked beautiful.Â
12:31 AM
âTwelve thirty oneâ read the time on your screen. The first thirty one minutes of your birthday were spent replaying exactly what you wanted to avoid. He mustâve fallen asleep. He would never intentionally miss his tradition of wishing you a happy birthday, 12AM, on the dot. âThat was before you ruined everythingâ, your mind began. âYou ruined everythingâ, it repeats over and over in a mantra.Â
âHe hates me. He wouldâve called if he didnât.â a whisper only for yourself to hear. Minutes passing you by once more as you begin your spiral into doubt and self-hatred. Tears completely stain your skin, clothes, the blanket hugging your legs. Your vision is too blurred to notice it. What you do notice is that you can not breathe. Shit. You can not breathe.Â
âFive thingsâ You can almost hear his voice whisper into your mind. âFive thingsâ, you repeat aloud.
âFive things you can see.â As his voice begins to guide, your eyes frantically wander. âThe blanket on my lap. My hands curled on top of it. The coffee table in front of me. The T.V playing across from me. The wall-clock hanging just above on the wall behind.â
âFour things you can touchâ Not waiting a second before answering to the thought of his voice: âThe cushion next to me. The couch beneath me. The sweatshirt Iâm wearing. The rings on my fingers.â
âThree things you can hearâ Tuning your focus on the sounds around you continue, âThe T.V playing. The cars passing by outside. That stupid wall-clock ticking.â
âTwo things you can smellâ This one was always your least favourite because you had to think the hardest. You could hardly breathe a minute ago and your nose is clogged. How can you smell anything? âI canât smell anything. I can never smell anything.â
âThat���s okay. Itâs okay. Just tell me one thing you can tasteâ . His voice was engraved in your brain. You probably couldnât forget it if you tried. âSalt.â
Shoulders slumping into your body, you wipe the tears clouding your line of sight and dare to look up at the clock once again. If it could speak it would probably taunt you for your pathetic state.Â
12:56 AM
You barely make out the time as your eyes begin to cloud again. At least you can breathe normally now. Except your head is throbbing, your eyes are sore and youâre so tired. Sinking back into your previous fetal position, you feel your body give out. As you drift off, you make one final plea for your sanity: âHe probably just fell asleep. Heâll call when he wakes up.â
The pounding headache was bad enough, but the rapid pounding against your door made you want to shout violently. As if your body was now on auto-pilot, you attempt to jump up from your position on the sofa - only to not so gracefully trip over your blanket and almost face plant into the coffee table. âFuck-AH-bitchâ, you grumble just as you manage to catch yourself. âIâm coming in just a minute!â Yelling for the very impatient recipient at the other side of your door. You quickly give the clock a glance before making your way to the hallway mirror.Â
2:07 PM
You arenât vain, youâre just a decent enough human to save the person outside your apartment a jumpscare from your post-ugly-crying state. When you stood in front of the mirror and actually saw yourself for the first time today, you didnât believe there was anything you could do to save that person. That person could be Spencer. So you gave it an attempt, regardless, quickly brushing your hair out with your fingers and wiping the dried tears from your face. Finally shuffling to the door, you take a deep breath as you unlock it. He probably just showed up instead of calling. At least thatâs what you wanted to believe.
âOh. Derek? JJ?â, instead you find two of his friends and FBI profilers, who definitely caught the disappointment in your voice. âWhat are you doing here?â
âHey Pretty Girl. Any chance Pretty Boy is somewhere behind you?â Morgan asks, slightly concerned by your poorly concealed state.
âHi, sorry, no, heâs not here.â You blurt out as you make eye contact with your nosy neighbour passing by. You consider inviting the agents inside for privacy, but remember that your living room shares the same messy look as you and abort that thought.Â
âCan we come inside?â JJ asks for you, also noticing the unwanted eavesdropper.
âUm, sureâ, you hesitate, clearly embarrassed. âExcuse the mess, I wasnât expecting company.â The agents share a look that you miss and follow behind as you quickly begin to tidy up a little.Â
âHey, are you okay?â JJ follows up.Â
âHuh? Yeah, Iâm fine. Why are you looking for Spencer here?â You were deflecting. She definitely knew that you were deflecting, but didnât push further and for that you were grateful.
âHeâs not at work and heâs not picking up his cell. So we thought he might be with you.â Morgan answers you, taking a quick glance around.Â
âWhen did you last talk to him?â JJ cuts in.
âUh, two days ago I think?â Your breath hitches at your first reminder of the fight you had.Â
âTwo days?â JJâs brows furrow in a questioning manner towards Morgan, who looks just as confused. âAre you sure?â He chimes in, not waiting for your reply before he dials a number on his phone and rushes off towards your kitchen.Â
âYes, Iâm sureâŚâ your eyes follow him as he disappears and quickly snap your attention back towards the blonde woman in front of you. âJJ whatâs going on?âÂ
âExactly what time did you last see him?â She ignores your question. The slight panic in her voice is contagious and begins to shift into you. âWell I donât know the exact time, but Iâd guess some time just before midnight? When did you last see him?âÂ
Before she can answer, Morgan calls your name as he walks back in. âGet dressed. Youâre gonna need to come back to The Bureau with us.âÂ
âThe Bureau? Okay, seriously guys, whatâs going on?âÂ
âIâll explain later. JJ and I are gonna wait here while you get dressed okay?â His tone was assertive.Â
âNo, youâre going to explain right now actually, what the fuck is going on?â But you were too worried to care about his tone.Â
He took a deep breath, clearly frustrated. âSpencerâs been missing for two days. â Realisation spreads across JJâs face as she puts the pieces together, â And I think you mightâve been the last person to see him.â
3:42 PM.Â
You were currently sitting alone in one of the interview rooms at the FBI Headquarters, phone in hand, repeatedly checking the time. Morgan and JJ gave you time to clean up and get dressed before leaving your apartment. None of you uttered a single word on your way here and JJ led you into this room, telling you to get comfortable and to let her know if you needed anything.Â
Somebody was supposed to come in and interview you, but you had been waiting for at least twenty minutes now. The room itself was mostly empty, except for two muted couches in the middle facing each other, separated by a small table. An old rug laid under the setting and a couple of stock pictures were hung on the walls. You had taken JJâs invitation and claimed a spot in the corner seat of one of the couches, facing the door, but sitting as far away from it as you could.Â
The air conditioner was set at room temperature but everything felt cold. Spencer was missing and you were definitely the last person to see him. You felt like the worst person in the world right now. The man that you loved more than anything in the world was missing and the last thing you ever said to him was that you didnât want to be around him.Â
What did missing even mean in this situation? Did he just decide to up and disappear? That would be believable if he was anybody else, but this was Spencer. He would still say goodbye to his friends before leaving. Friends who were also his coworkers. Coworkers at his extremely dangerous job. If Spencer was missing then it wasnât because he chose to be. Which means that thereâs a strong possibility that heâs really hurt, or dead.
Your mind was filled with so many concerns and had you not heard the door handle click, you probably wouldâve driven yourself into another panic attack. A raven-haired woman walks into the room and takes a seat opposite to you on the couch across yours.Â
âEmily!âÂ
âHey, how are you holding up?âÂ
âHave you found Spencer? Is he okay-â The questions begin piling out of you.
âWoah, take a deep breath okay.â She cuts off your worrisome ramble before it begins.Â
âDonât tell me to calm down!â You cry out in frustration before catching your tone. You take a short, deep breath and continue, âIâm sorry. Iâm just really worried okay. Iâve been here for god knows how long and nobody will tell me anything and I just really need to know if Spencerâs okay.â
Emily slightly tilts her head as she looks at you, slightly narrowing her eyes in sympathy. âItâs okay, I understand. You feel really isolated right now because you donât know whatâs going on,â she leans in a little âbut the truth is, we donât entirely know whatâs going on either. All we know is that Spencer hasnât been to work in two days and you were the last person to see him.â
You stare back at her with an apologetic look and the two of you share a brief silence of understanding. As worried as you were right now, you had to remember that Emily and everybody else in the BAU were also extremely worried. You nodded, not saying anything.
âI need you to tell me about the last time you saw him." Sheâs the first to break the silence.
Instead of simply responding, you stare at her blankly. You opened your mouth to speak, but no sound would come out. It was like you physically couldnât respond. You couldnât even let yourself think about the last time you saw him. The guilt was overbearing, it was pushing tears to well in your eyes. Sighing, you take a gulp and try to get yourself together. Eyes wandering everywhere except towards Emily.
âYou okay?â She questions for the second time, giving you the same narrow-eyed look as before, but this time thereâs concern behind her eyes.
You try to respond but all you can do is bite the inside of your cheek. Emilyâs presence was a welcome distraction from the current situation, until it wasnât a distraction anymore. Sheâd unknowingly pushed you back into the headspace you desperately needed to stay out of to keep composed. It wasnât her fault, you knew she was just doing her job. However, right now you desperately needed her to go away or you were going to completely break down.
Then for the first time in days the universe took pity on you. It leaned into the room in the form of one colourful Penelope Garica, giving you a rushed greeting and ushering Emily out of the room.
âHey Em, sorry to interrupt, but we need you in the conference room. By that I mean like yesterday.â Garcia turned towards you and squeaked a sad âGood to see you again, I wish it was under different circumstances.â before disappearing. Emily drops a quick âExcuse meâ as she gets up and disappears after her.
You knew she would be back. For now, you had time to calm down and you were extremely grateful for that. Taking deep breaths, you check your phone again. There on your screen was Spencer, smiling back at you brightly. You glance at the time again.
4:03 PM
Your eyes instantly land back on his face. They must have stayed staring for a while; before you knew it Emily had re-entered the room. âWhatâre you doing there?â The sudden interruption from her voice pulled you out of your trance. âHuh? Oh-Sorry, I was just checking the time.â A half-lie. âItâs 4:17.â
No verbal response. Her only response was a look you couldnât entirely make out as she took a seat in her previous place. âEmily, is everything okay? Did something happen?âÂ
âI need to tell you something and you need to listen to the full thing, okay? Spencerâs been kidnapped.â She nervously bit her lip as she broke the news to you. âGarcia pulled a recording from a surveillance camera on the street outside your apartment building.â
âWhat..â You interrupted, unintentionally. âWhat do you mean kidnapped? Outside my apartment?â
âLook. I wonât lie to you, this is bad. You were the last person to see Spencer and then heâs taken from outside your apartment-â
âWait a minute, are you telling me that Iâm a suspect?â The second time you cut her off, she leans forward and takes your hand in hers. âListen to me. The whole thing okay? No interruptions.â Her patient tone gives you some comfort. You nod, giving her the go ahead to continue.Â
âNow, in normal cases, those closest to the victim would be looked at as initial suspects. But this is not a normal case. You arenât a suspect but you might be the key in finding him. Iâm going to play the recording for you in just a minute and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything. Before I play anything though, weâre going to have to run a cognitive interview and recall your last day with Spencer. I understand that it may be hard, but if you want to help find Spencer, youâre going to have to.â
As your mind processes her words, your hand attempts to close into a fist and squeezes hers. âEmily, I canâtâ are the only words you can bring yourself to say.
âWhy?â Sheâs quick to ask in surprise.Â
âBecause itâs horrible, Emily. The last thing we did was fight. The last thing I told him was that I didnât want to be around him.â You spit out before you can stop yourself.Â
The woman sighs as she mumbles your name, âYou canât possibly blame yourself for this. All couples fight. You couldnât have known this would happen. I promise you, no matter how bad you think it is, it really cannot be worse than not finding Spencer.â
Her words are blunt, but her voice is empathetic. Itâs just what you needed to hear to break out of your ego. âOkay, what do you need?â
âI need you to close your eyes okay. Just listen to the sound of my voice as I guide you.â The brunette instructs. Closing your eyes, you take a deep breath. âThink back to that day. What were you doing when you first saw Spencer?â
âWe met at our favourite cafĂŠ after he got home from work. He had missed our date the night before and wanted to make it up to me. I was checking the time when I heard him call out my name from behind me.â You begin to recall.
âOkay, you turn around to see him. Whatâs happening around you? Is it busy?âÂ
âNo, itâs actually really quiet compared to usual. Thereâs maybe four or five other people here besides us.â
âWhat was Spencer like? His behaviour, was he acting like he normally does when youâre together?â
âHe was pretty normal at first. He just looked tired, more than he usually does. But it wasnât until we started talking that I noticed that something was off.â
âWhat was off?â
âHe just wasnât present like he usually was. I could tell that he wasnât feeling great, so I insisted we go back to his place. It was closer than mine.â
You continued recalling the events of the night. When you turned on the light as you entered his apartment, he hissed slightly. Thatâs when you realised what was going on. He admitted that his migraines were back after some pushing. You asked him if heâd gone to the doctors and he told you how theyâd found nothing again. You sat him down on the couch, got him some painkillers and brewed some tea for him. He began ranting about how there had to be something wrong. Thatâs when you suggested that the migraines could be stress induced. The two of you began arguing not long after that.Â
âSpence, have you, maybe, considered that the migraines are psychosomatic? Probably from all the stress you face at work?â
âWhat does my job have to do with this? What are you saying?â
âIâm just saying that you have a stressful job. It can take a pretty heavy toll. Stress is a common factor for migraines.â
âNo, not like this. I just need to find another doctor. One that can actually help.â
âHow many doctors will you see before you finally understand that itâs in your head?â
âWhatâs that supposed to mean?â
âNothing. Iâm sorry, I should have worded that better.â
âYou think Iâm crazy? I am not crazy!â
âSpencer, Iâm not implying that you are! Iâm saying that itâs probably stress induced-â
âNo! No. Thatâs not what you really think, is it? Go on, say what you really mean.â
âWhat? No. Thatâs not at all what Iâm saying.â
âBut itâs what youâre thinkingâ
âNo, itâs what youâre thinking, Spencer.â
âDonât hold back now, just come out and say it.â
âGOD SPENCER! You think that just because your mother is a paranoid schizophrenic, I think you must be one too? Youâre completely reaching! You just donât want to deal with the reality that maybe it is all just in your head! ⌠Iâm sorry, I didnât mean it like that.âÂ
âLeave. Please.â
âSpencer..â
âStop. Please. Leave.â
âWait Spence-â
âI donât want to see you anymore. I canât even bear to look at your face right now.â
âYeah? I donât want to be near you anyway. Not when youâre being like this!â
Emilyâs hand on your shoulder pulled you out of your head, âHey, itâs okay. Take a deep breath for me.â And so you do, in through your nose and out through your mouth. Once sheâs sure you're calm, she leans back in her seat and continues, âYouâre doing great. I need you to go back to the cafĂŠ. Was there anything or any one out of place?âÂ
You think back. You and Spencer were sitting just by the entrance. There was another couple ordering at the counter. You could smell flowers. Not the nice, light, floral kind of scent. It was the loud, head-ache inducing, overpowering roses kind. It was coming from your left, where there were two old ladies sitting not too far from your table, lost in their own conversation. Behind them, in the far left corner, there was a man sat glaring at Spencer. You couldnât really see the man that well but, nothing felt out of place.Â
âNo.â You mumble in disappointment, unable to remember anything out of the ordinary. Wait. The man in the corner. âYes, yes thereâs some guy. Heâs barely in my vision, but he was glaring at Spencer. I made eye contact with him once as I entered but I didnât think anything of it.â
âI need you to really think hard,â Emily urges, âWhat can you remember about this man? Any distinct details?â
âUm, he was dressed in dark clothing and wearing a beanie. There isnât really anything that stands out. Iâm sorry Emily.â
âNo, itâs okay you did great. You can open your eyes now.â You do so, greeted by the sight of Emily across from you fidgeting with the tablet in her lap. âIâm going to show you the recording and I need you to tell me if you recognise anything from it.âÂ
She passes the tablet over and you click play. Itâs a little blurry but you can see Spencer walking on the street outside your apartment building. It looks like heâs making his way over to your place. A man shows up out of, seemingly, nowhere and bumps into him. Spencer appears to become drowsy, unable to coordinate his movement at all. Thirty seconds later, a black van pulls up and that same man from before yanks your boyfriend into the van before it drives off.Â
Your stomach drops. âFuck, Emily! He was right there. He was right outside my apartment. They took himâŚI shouldâveâŚoh my god..â If you thought you were gonna have a panic attack before, you were in for a heart attack now.Â
Emily tries to call your attention using your name as she grabs hold of your hands, âYou need to take some more deep breaths okay, panicking now is not going to help.â Sheâs right. Spencer has already been kidnapped, panicking isnât going to bring him back. The video replays in your head, you recognise something.
âWait Emily..the man - that man from the cafĂŠ. Thatâs the same man. The one who bumped into Spencer. Heâs wearing the same clothes and everything. Oh my god, was he following us the whole time?â The realisation seeps through your body and shivers run down your spine. Spencer was being watched the entire time you were together. âWhy did they wait? Why didnât they just take me out and then kidnap Spencer?âÂ
âI donât know the answer to that, but youâve helped a lot. Now Iâm going to go and tell the rest of the team what youâve told me, okay? But you need to stay here.âÂ
âWhy? I canât just wait here forever, how is that gonna help?â you question. You couldnât just sit here alone with your thoughts, you needed to get out.Â
âThose men that took Spencer, they clearly know about you. This puts you in danger and we donât know what their plan is. Here is the safest place for you to be. Iâm going to send an agent to sit outside that door,â She points at the brown door that serves as the only entry and exit to the room youâre currently in, âHis name is Agent Anderson. You tell him if you need anything at all, but you need to stay here. Please.â
You watch her stand up hurriedly and head for the door. You know sheâs right. They canât search for Spencer if they also have to worry about your safety. Getting Spencer back was the most important thing. âOkay.â You agree. âBut Emily,â she turns back to look at you from the doorway, âPlease bring him back, okay?âÂ
âWe will.â She Promises. It may be an empty promise. Thereâs no guarantee that heâs even alive, but it's enough to keep you hoping for now. Spencer has to be okay.Â
Spencerâs POV
Itâs not very often a person finds themselves escaping deathâs grasp. The chances of the same person escaping death twice is even less likely. Yet here I am, in the back of an ambulance, on my way to the hospital, having escaped death for the second time in my life. Hopefully, it won't cost me an addiction this time. âRossi this is ridiculous, Iâm fine!â I insisted to the older man next to me, looking over me like a watchdog. I was already aware that my injuries were serious enough to warrant a hospital visit, but I hoped that the EMTâs would ignore that regardless. I need to get back to her, I just want to hold her as soon as possible. âSir, you need to lie back downâ I hear a voice instruct from my right. Then I hear Dave from my left.
âKid, you are not fine. The sooner we get you to the hospital the sooner you can leave. Now lie back down and let the medics do their job.â How am I supposed to stress the seriousness of the situation in my drugged up state? My girlfriend is in danger! âNo Rossi, I need to see that sheâs alright, you donât understand. They got me from right outside her apartment, they know about her!â Why doesnât he understand? âReid, relax. Sheâs been at headquarters since yesterday afternoon. Sheâs fine. Sheâll meet you there, Andersonâs driving her there as we speak.â I have to count on this reassurance for the time being, because I was clearly not getting my way anytime soon.Â
Wait yesterday? âNo Rossi, that's not right. What day is it? What time?â Guilt surged my veins, did I really miss the most important day of the year? âItâs Friday. Wait no, Saturday now, about uhhh,â he paused â1:43 AM.â No, no, no. âSaturday? She spent her birthday at headquarters? That wasnât the plan!â I desperately needed to explain something to Rossi, but I couldnât find the right words. I couldnât even fully remember what I needed to explain. âOkay, Sir, Iâm going to have to inject you with a light dose of tranquillisers if you donât calm you down.â I hear the voice on my right say.Â
âNo, donât touch me! Get away from me! Rossi-â My objections are interrupted by Rossi on the left again âKid, youâre heavily drugged right now and youâre not making sense. You need to calm down. Just do as the nice lady says.â Iâm entirely perplexed. What lady? And where am I right now? I try to make sense of my situation but my senses are suddenly taken over by a strong sense of drowsiness. I feel at peace, but something has to be wrong because I can hear rapid beeping behind me. âSir, you need to keep your eyes open, do not fall asleep!â
Your POV
Somebodyâs hand hesitantly shaking your shoulder wakes you up. You slowly open your eyes to see Agent Anderson crouching in front of you. Before he can get a word in edgewise, you start throwing out questions at the poor man and rush to sit up-right. âAgent? What happened? Did they find him? Is he okay?â The rapid fire of questions knocks your own breath out of your lungs and forces you to pause for a deep breath, allowing Anderson to cut in. âThey found him! Iâm not entirely sure of his condition, but heâs on his way to the hospital and so is the team. I can drive you so you can meet them there.â He stands up and walks towards the door, holding it open for you.
âYes! Please! Letâs go!â You donât even hesitate as you respond, jumping up from your seat and practically running towards the door. The journey from the building, to the car, then to the hospital is another blur. Spencer fills your mind, as usual, while your eyes are fixated on the time displayed on the dashboard. You watch the minutes pass the whole ride. â2:13 AM, 2:14 AM, 2:15 AM, 2:16 AMâ and finally as you arrive at the hospital:
2:17 AM
âYou head on in, Iâm going to park and follow behind you.â Anderson breaks the streak of silence. The car barely comes to a stop before you jump out and make a bee-line for the doors. You probably look like a maniac running up to the reception desk. âHi Maâam, how can I help you?â The receptionist asks unfazed, probably used to seeing maniacs like you. âSpencer Reid. Thatâs the patient's name. Where is Spencer Reid?â You pester urgently. âJust a moment please.â The receptionist smiles as she begins to type on her keyboard. She turns back to you after a few seconds, instructing you on where to go. âThank you!â You donât even blink after sheâs done speaking and immediately head towards where you're guided.Â
As you enter the waiting room, youâre greeted with the faces of his team from the BAU. âHi! There you are!â Garcia is the first to notice you, coming in for a hug. âHey, how is he?â you ask hugging back, no time for proper pleasantries. The rest of the team start making their way up to you one by one for a quick greeting too. âWe donât know yet, the doctor should be out soon to let us know.â Derek, the last one to hug you hello, answers. Thatâs never good to hear, nervousness covering your face. âDonât lose hope, heâs going to be just fine!â Rossi interjects your train of thought before it can even begin. Damn profilers. Anderson, true to his word, shows up too.Â
Feeling slightly ashamed for your rushed behaviour you apologise and thank him for his patience. He assures you that thereâs no need and he understands, before Hotch sends Anderson home for the weekend. It seems like everybody in that room takes turns sitting and pacing around. Everyone except you. Your eyes are glued to the clock at the entrance, occasionally making small talk with the others. Itâs officially been three excruciating days since youâve last seen Spencer and even now, as heâs just a few metres away, youâre unable to see him. âHappy belated birthday.â Rossi whispers, taking a seat next to you. You turn to face him, slightly stunned. âSorry?âÂ
âI said happy belated birthday.â He repeats. You can only return a puzzled look, unable to muster the common âthank youâ. âSpencer. He told me, in the ambulance.â He answers your unasked question. A single tear manages to escape your eye before you sniffle and re-adjust to compose yourself.Â
âHow bad is it?â Your boyfriend's condition is your immediate concern.Â
âYou know itâs funny,â the old man ignores your question, knowing itâs better to not worry you further, âthe whole ride here the kid would not stop going on about needing to be there for you. Itâs like he was unable to comprehend anything in regards to himself. And now here I am, talking to you, and itâs like youâre unable to comprehend anything that doesnât concern him.â He takes an almost dramatic pause so he can look you in the eyes, like heâs trying to pass on an unspoken message. Whatever that message was, you didnât understand it.Â
He knew you didnât, because he continued, âeven in extreme situations like this one, you think about each other before you think of yourselves. You truly love each other. So, whatever happened before this, let it go. Feeling guilty about it wonât help.â With that he got up from his seat and headed towards the vending machine. Damn profilers. You donât have a chance to linger on his advice for too long before the doctor shows up. âSpencer Reid?â
Everybody gathers almost immediately around the doctor, waiting to be updated. âHeâs got a broken rib, minor concussion, a few deep bruises, specifically around the abdomen, and other minor cuts and bruises. Other than that heâs been heavily sedated, but heâs going to be fine. Heâll be knocked out for a couple of hours, but heâll be just fine. Youâre welcome to see him now, but only two at a time please.â Almost immediately as the doctor leaves, the group turns to look at you and JJ pipes up first. âWould you like to go in first?âÂ
You couldnât wait to see him before, but now the nerves were getting to you. âNo. You guys go in first.âÂ
âAre you sure?â Emily asks.Â
âWeâre allowed two at a time, you know.â Derek reminds you.
âYeah! The rest of us can take turns while you sit with him!â Garcia pipes up, softly.
âNo, come on guys. Heâs just as important to you as he is me. Besides Iâll be here for a while, the rest of you need to get home. I can see him after.â You reason.Â
âOkay. If you insist. But if you change your mind, let us know.â Emily nods, as she begins to head towards Spencerâs room.
You were sitting in the waiting room once more, while the team had taken turns going in and out of Spencerâs room. Eyes trained on the clock, again.Â
4:31 AM
Most of the team had headed home by now. You were honestly surprised they stayed as long as they did, knowing how late it was and how exhausted most of them were. The only people left besides you were Derek and Hotch. Jack was away at a sleepover so Hotch decided to stay longer, feeling responsible for Spencer. âWhatâs going on in that mind, Pretty Girl?â Derek now sat across from you.
âDerek!â you jumped slightly, not expecting him. âNothings going on. Why? Is Spencer okay?âÂ
âYou know you keep doing that. Deflecting.â He doesnât let you get away with it this time.Â
âIâm not.â You persist.Â
âYou are. Look, Spencerâs one of my closest friends and by extension youâre also my friend. Iâm not going to force you to talk about it if you donât want to, but just know that I am here to listen.â He persists harder.
âDerek, I justâŚI donât know what to say. Not just to you, but to him. The last time I saw him, we fought. He said he didnât want to see me anymore. I know itâs all in my head, but I canât stop thinking about if he meant it. What if he truly doesnât want to see me?â
âWoah, woah! Pretty Girl, câmon. Heâs crazy about you, you know that. Youâre practically all he ever talks about. I can promise you that no matter how bad you think that fight was, he wonât let it ruin what you have.â The reaffirmations from Emily, Rossi and now Derek were honestly unnecessary. You were a rational person, you already knew everything theyâd said to you. The emotions just overpower your rationality at times but hearing those closest to Spencer confirm was how you knew for sure that itâs true. âThank you, Derekâ You responded with a small, but confident smile.
âHeâs awake.â Hotch alerts the two of you. FBI training must be heavy on sneak attacks because these fucking profilers had unbelievably light steps. You turn to face the usually monotone man and instead, catch him sporting a relieved smile. He meets your eyes directly as he speaks, âHeâs asking for you.â A hopeful huff leaves you as you stand up. âGo get 'em beautiful!â Derek encourages. You thank both him and Hotch, making your way to Spencer's room. You take a deep breath as you approach the door, but before you enter, you make a final note of the time.
4:55 AM
âHi Angel.â Spencerâs voice weakly acknowledges your arrival in an instant. Your heart feels a mix of hurt and relief at the sight in front of you. His figureâs confined to the gurney and linked with tubes to an IV drip. With every step bringing you closer to him youâre able to make out more of his injuries. Bruises on almost every part of his visible skin, an especially large one covering the surface around his cheekbone, eye and temple. Cuts on his nose, lips, arms - you bite your lip trying to hold back the tears welling you eyes again. âPlease say something.â He begs, matching the same pained look as you.Â
Rossiâs words were starting to make sense. While you looked at your lover in guilt over his marred state, he looked back at you with guilt for worrying you. âYou look like hell.â Maybe not the most sensible thing to say right now, but you didnât want to cry and worry Spencer further. The poor attempt to lighten the mood showed some success because you earned a light chuckle from your boyfriend. The atmosphere didnât stay light for long though, the two of you almost instantly falling silent as you stared into his beautiful brown eyes. âIâm sorry.âÂ
The words fall out from both of you simultaneously. âYou have nothing to be sorry for, Angel. You were right and I was being unfair.â Spencer intertwines his fingers with yours, immediately rejecting your apology. âYou were,â you agree âbut I was also unfair. I shouldnât have said what I did.â He tries to sit up, wincing from the unanticipated sharp sting. This earns him a soft reprimand from you, reminding him of his broken rib and you instead use the remote to shift the gurney into a position comfortable for him to lean against. âYou need to be more careful!â You whine.
âI know, I know. I just, I want to hold you.â He whines back, staring at you with his dangerously powerful puppy eyes. Those eyes were actually dangerous, you had to internally fight yourself to not give in. You opted to meet him half-way and lightly wrapped your arms around his head for a quick hug. âDonât look at me like that. There will be no holding unless the doctor clears it.â You whispered against his hair before pulling away, not wanting to accidentally hurt him more. âTechnically Iâm a doctor-â He tries to protest, but you beat him to it. âA medical doctor, Spencer.âÂ
You pull the chair from behind so you can sit as close to him as possible and take his free hand into yours, holding it tightly. âIâm sorry I missed your birthday.â You look at him in disbelief as the words leave his mouth. âSpencer, forget the stupid birthday please! Actually, can we just stop with the apologies? Iâm just glad that youâre okay- sort of.â Your eyes scan over his injuries again as you say the last sentence. âStop. Donât do that. Iâm okay, I promise.â Itâs more of a request than anything else. He doesn��t like being âbabiedâ or pitied. âAngel look here.â his fingers guide your face to meet his eyes.
âIâm okay. These will heal, but please donât give me that look. I know you want to talk about it and we will, later. Right now I just want to talk to you about anything else.â
âI know you do, itâs just hard Spencer. Thereâs so much to say and I was so worried. I spent three days thinking you hated me. Well, technically, I actually spent two days thinking you hated me and the third losing my mind about-âÂ
âHey, hey, hey,â he cups your face gently to cut off your ramble and keeps his same soft, whispery tone, âI know. I too spent the last 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes regretting the last thing I might have ever said to you was something I never should have said because I was being an ass.âÂ
âDonât say that!â You immediately interject, unable to even think about the meaning behind his words. He brushes a strand of hair out of your face, âShhhh, just listen.âÂ
âThereâs just so much more I have to say. So much more we need to talk about. And right now I just want to talk to you about anything else, even the little things that donât matter. Especially the things that donât matter. So please, just tell me about all the pointless things.â His voice cracks slightly at his plea, his gaze connecting so deeply with yours, tears glazing his lashes.
Stupid puppy eyes. There was no fighting against them this time, you gave in. The two of you talked until the medication knocked him out. It was easy like that with Spencer, you never ran out of topics. Nurses went in and out of the room, hours passed by, but you stayed right there next to him. The next few days were spent in the hospital, you only left to get refreshed if somebody from the team was there with Spencer while you were gone. Spencer was asleep most of the time due to the medication. Everybody from the BAU took turns visiting, Garcia always bringing fresh food with her.Â
Before Spencer was discharged, the two of you agreed that it would be best for you to stay with him while he recovered. You wanted to be there for him in case he needed anything and heâd take any excuse to have you near him. It was a smart decision overall, because the broken rib rendered Spencer unable to do almost anything on his own. Which is why you were currently watching him bathe, perched on the edge of his bathroom counter, making sure your boyfriend didnât accidentally hurt himself further.Â
âYou donât have to do this, you know. Iâll be fine.â Spencer insists. âHe says, after almost breaking another bone trying to undress by himself earlier.â You snark.Â
âI think youâre enjoying this a bit too much.â Amusement surfaces in his voice and it causes you to blush.Â
âCareful, handsome, youâre going to work yourself up and end up disappointed.â You successfully fluster him back. The doctor deemed Spencer unfit for any physical activity, much to his dismay.Â
âUghhh,â he groans, dramatically, rolling his head back. âThis is so unfai-Ah!â His complaint is cut off by his own shriek while trying to reach the loofah around his back.Â
âShit Spencer!â You panic, hopping off the counter and rushing to his side, grabbing the loofah out of his grasp. âAre you okay?â
âYeah, Iâm fine, sorry. I just canât reach my back, I guess.âÂ
âThatâs literally what Iâm here for, dummy. Let me get it.â You shuffle behind him from outside the tub and gently push him forward so you can access his back.Â
âIâm sorry, you shouldnât have to do this.â Thereâs a slight hint of embarrassment in his voice.Â
âSpencer, love, stop. Thereâs nothing to be embarrassed about. Plus, I like taking care of you.â It was true. Doing small things to make his life convenient made you happy.Â
âItâs not just because itâs embarrassing. You shouldnât have to go out of your way for me like this, you have better things to spend your time on.â The insecurity in his words makes your heart ache. Reaching your hand around his jaw, you turn his head back towards you as you lean in to meet his eyes.Â
âHow can I get it through your thick, beautiful, skull that I want to be here? I want to do this. I want to spend my time with you.â You state matter of factly. He searches your face for any hint of insincerity. Unable to find any, he whispers, âThank youâ and leans in to give you a gentle kiss.
âAnd plus, you did promise weâd make up for the lost 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes when you got discharged.â You jokingly remind him of his words to you in a conversation you shared at the hospital. He chuckled and kissed you once more.
âI will.â A re-affirmation of his promise. âBut this doesnât count.â
âHow so?â You question. âWeâre here together arenât we?â
âYes, but you deserve more than this.â He declared. âIâm going to make it up to you.â
âSpencer, you donât have to make anything up to me. We have to make up for lost time.âÂ
âLet me make it up to you anyway?â He flashes those damn eyes at you again.
âJust get better first okay, then weâll talk. Plus you owe me a conversation before anything else.â Normally Spencer was the one whoâd have to remind you of things, but today it was the other way around.Â
âI guess I do.â He sighs in defeat, âBefore we do that I have to tell you something.âÂ
âYeah?â
âRossi offered to throw you a party for your birthday and I kind of, maybe, said yes? It was less of an offer and more of a statement if Iâm honest, but I thought youâd like it because youâre a huge fan of his books and always wanted to see his mansion. Thereâs tons of space for your family and friends too and-â
You cut off his speech with a kiss. âThatâs wonderful Spencer, thank you. Tell Rossi I said thank you as well.â
âYouâre not disappointed? I know you prefer smaller celebrations and originally I had something else planned but given my current state itâs a bit hard to go through with those plans.â
âOf course Iâm not disappointed. Iâd be happy with anything as long as youâre there.â You flash him a grateful, genuine smile. He kisses you briefly. Then again. And again.
âAs much as I love kissing you, we need to get you to bed. Come on.â The two of you share kisses, giggles and loving looks, as you help him out of the tub, dry him off and get him dressed. Making your way over to the bed, you first help him settle in before getting into your side. Itâs clear that Spencer doesnât know where to start.Â
âLetâs start with that night.â You take the lead. He takes a deep breath as he begins to recount the events.Â
âI felt terrible after you left. I never meant any of it and I just, I am so sorry.â
âI know. I am too.â You reassured your lover, not wanting him to bear guilt over it any longer.Â
âI was on your way to your apartment to apologise when I bumped into the unsub. The next thing I knew I couldnât feel my legs and was being thrown into the back of the van.â He couldnât offer you more than the basic details, due to the classified nature of his job. The unsub wanted revenge because Spencer was the reason they were caught in the first place. âIâm sorryâ is how Spencer finished his re-telling.Â
âSorry? Why are you sorry, thatâs not your fault.â A light, confused chuckle escapes your throat as you speak.
âBecause, I put you in danger. Because this job puts me in danger, which always puts you in danger by extension. You deserv-â
âStop. Spencer, stop.â You cut him off, afraid of what he was insinuating. âStop telling me what I deserve. I knew what your job was when I entered this relationship. Donât.â Tears threatening to spill from you, your fingers digging into your own flesh to try and stop them. Spencer noticed, gently coaxing your fingers away from your palm as he massaged your hand lightly.Â
âAngel look at me.â He almost commands. You begrudgingly meet his eyes, holding your breath as you mentally prepare for the âitâs not you, itâs me speechâ youâd heard before from others. âWhatâs wrong?â He questions, not entirely sure as to why you were crying. For a genius he could be really unaware of his wording sometimes.
âWhy do you keep saying that?â Youâre unable to hold your tears.Â
âBecause I want you to know that Iâm going to do better from now. To give you the âbetterâ you deserve.â He wipes your tears, still holding on to your hand.Â
âThen why does it sound like youâre trying to break up with me right now?â You sniffle, squeezing his hand slightly.
âI must really suck at communicating, because thatâs the exact opposite of what Iâm trying to do.â He uses his hand to gently coax your head towards him so he can kiss you. âI want to move in together. With you.â
âYou do?â
âYes. If thereâs anything Iâve realised over the past few days, itâs that I really hate being away from you. I hate not being able to see you, hear your voice, feel your touch.â He gives you another kiss. âI am not going anywhere. And I really hope you donât either. Move in with me?â
You give him a peck. âYes.â Another peck. âYes, Spencer, Iâll move in with you.â A deep, longing kiss. You share a few more kisses and then nestle against him. Both of you laughing.Â
The next few hours pass with both of you just enjoying being in each other's arms. Gently stroking the others hair, small kisses here and there, âI love youâsâ bouncing off from one another. The 3 days, 4 hours and 55 minutes spent worrying you wonât see each other again seem so silly now that youâve got everyday to look forward to.Â
âAngel?â Spencerâs voice lulls you out from your semi-conscious state. âHm?â
âThank you.â On the surface it was just a simple sentence, but his intention was deeper than that. It was a show of gratitude for you choosing him. For staying with him through the hard times.Â
âAlways.â Your promise that youâd do it again.
âSpencer?â You say after a second.Â
âYes my love?â Spencer replies.
âThank you too.âÂ
âAlways.â
Both of you fall asleep cuddling not long after. There were still a few things that needed to be worked out, but one thing was for sure, you were going to wake up next to the love of your life the next morning and then every morning after that. Youâd truly found your forever person in each other.Â
Spoilers: Hurt, Angst, Fluff, Comfort, Established Relationship.
AN - First fic Iâve ever written. Itâs been in my drafts for so long, Iâve edited it so many times. I hope you didnât feel too edged because 80% of this is without Spencer scenes (I did and I wrote it).
Feel free to drop helpful criticism, Iâm always looking to improve. Remember to stay real and respectful :)
Thank you for reading!
#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x female reader#spencer reid x you#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds imagine#criminal minds x reader#criminal minds x fem!reader#criminal minds fandom#ssa spencer reid#fem!reader#bau team#spencer reid fic#; fics
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Sealed 2
1 3
âYear after year after year the hours pass and it never ends, Iâve been here for millennia is Ryomen even trying?â You sat down onto the pile of bones, skeletons supporting you the best they could. The Prison Realm had become your domain, youâd molded every bone and skeleton to do your work. Your elbow resting on the spine of skeleton your cheek pressing against your fist as you stared bored.
Looking down the pile of bones and skeletons holding up your throne that you had formed to match Sukunaâs you saw two Skeletons battling for your amusement. Sighing you slouched back in your throne, watching the two headed four armed skeleton using sharpened bones as spears, fighting a towering 6 armed Skelton. His arms like vices ready to grab and shove whatever into its gaping rib cage to crush it. âThis needs more!â The two skeletons looked up at you, before the rumbling of the skeletal centaur could be heard, a centaur of bone, his torso with 4 arms, it held an extended spine as if it were a chain. Lower two arms ready to grab at anything, more specifically rip off the head and spine of its opponents.
âYES! THIS IS what we need!â You smacked the skeleton who stood near you on the back. His bones shaking as you leaned forward, youâd find out soon which of your creations was truly the strongest. âLetâs get this show started-â it was quick blur of red and black before you were standing head tilted to the side as you stared irked at the man in front of you. âDo YOU KNOW WHAT YOU JUST DID.â
âPLEASE FORGIVE ME! I BEG FOR MERCY I SPENT MUCH OF MY LIFE LOOKING FOR THIS TREASURE THATS BEEN hidden away heating the tales of how the sourcererâs of old time had wrongly imprisoned a Diety of Fertility separating her from her son. I just come to beg and ask you give my wife your blessing to have a child were old in age but sheâs always prayed and begged. Iâve run out of hope until i heard you tale, i beg and hoped youâd have mercy- Sit upâ was all you said. The man went from groveling to sitting back on his heels. Sighing the conflict inside of you was great. You looked around tucking your arms into the sleeves of your worn Kimono. âBring me your wife,â you looked up through the canopy of the trees you see the sun at mid day, âyou have two sunsets and then I leave.â The man quickly bowed again at your feet thanking you before running off. You kicked the prison realm box âDamnit who won!â You snatched it up, the air was familiar, you started to look around. The reason it was so familiar was because it wasnât to far from where you had been sealed. The skeletal remains of the sourcerers made you seethe. You found the remains of the man who sealed you grabbing his skull with your free hand making it look at you, âmy child my husband,â you crushed it without fail, âyou took it all from me and now everyone will pay.â Th tears falling down were hot. Dropping the remains you started your first technique âReanimate.â A wave of purple radiated from you, hitting every border of the palace. Skeletal remains shaking and coming together to stand, âGet this place back into shape.â They started moving, you made your way inside the palace the inside help had been reanimated also, your ladies in waiting now remains, standing beside you as you enter âFind fabric I need new robes.â They rushed off and you made it to your old room, the massive bed your son had fallen off many times when he would try to sleep with you and his dad. The wardrobe filled with your husbandâs old robes. The room was dusty and smelt humid, shoving the window open you tried not to cry, on the window sill was a talisman Sukuna had created for Yuji. Sniffling you turned your head, finding a small blanket and stuffed Tiger doll Yuji carried around that morning. A gift for his 2nd birthday that he loved and it showed on the tigers rugged appearance.
âMy Yuji..â your faint whisper sounding so loud in the silence as you ran your fingers of the stuffed doll holding it close to your chest as you made your way around the room planning your moves. Your plans had always been to follow in similar steps to Sukuna. Except that youâd be known for good to balance out the evil perspective they had of your husband. First, fix your palace. Second, create miracles in the closest town or village to make profit and move into a bigger city to improve profits. Find wherever Sukuna had been sealed away, and break him free. Find Yuji and take him back from this cruel world.
â¤ď¸đ¤đ¤â¤ď¸đ¤đ¤â¤ď¸đ¤đ¤â¤ď¸đ¤đ¤â¤ď¸đ¤đ¤â¤ď¸
Itâs been over 100 more years and youâd grown accustomed to the changing in technology and times, passing the crowds into your shrine you smiled ruffling the heads of kids who smiled up at you, rubbing the plump bellies of pregnant women you passed and âblessingâ the sick with instant health with simply laying a hand on them and smiling kindly.
Entering your shrine for the last time your Gentlemen in waiting was packing up what was left. The last thing left was the main room where your wide throne sat, youâd be leaving it being to your followers, the cushions you provided for your followers during your sessions. âMorĂ.â You called out and he came from the room he was in bowing and holding his hands out in front of him. âYes Lady Y/n?â
âMorinozuka, weâre leaving tonight to Sendai City. The mark of my binding vow is burning more, but are you sure thatâs where we need to go?â
âYes Lady Y/n.â He spoke not looking up from his bow. You nodded, âthen itâs final.â
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âSo this is the place?â You turned to MorĂ and he nodded. âItâs not as lavish but this is the closest we can get⌠Your excellency.. I strongly recommend you continue to hide your cursed energy until I suggest otherwise.â You nodded getting out of the car âVery well, I will.â
It was morning when you had arrived, standing in front of the door to the house you looked over an elder man was walking out of his house he looked over and you smiled at him and he had a very faint twitch of his lip. Until a man with pink hair came out, follows by a woman with black hair and you felt it. The pulse of cursed energy and instinctively you grabbed Mori by his robes and pulled him towards you, âThat woman, sheâs no woman that- is the carrier of your child.â You head snapped instantly to him, âThe father of my child, thatâs the sorcerer who knew Sukuna, and he is going to mother my child?â Your face showing your exact emotions Mori placing a hand over yours, âLady Y/n, please recollect your thoughts. I can assure you he will NOT be mothering your child, and her husband will not be fathering him either.â Letting go of his robes you nodded. Looking over your shoulder you watched the couple get into a car the elder man scowling when they started to drive away.
Turning to look at you he tucked his arms behind his back walking over, âGood Morning Iâm L/n Y/n.â You greeted bowing after you moved closer, he dismissed you with a wave of your hand. âMorning, Wasuke Itadori.â He cocked a brow and looked over at your house, âItâs been up for sale for a long time. Almost 3 years before someone has moved in.â You looked back at your house, âI moved in to get closer to work. I thought it was just a blessing for everything to line up so perfectly.â
He nodded, âWell, blessings only go so far here. My sonâs wife is something Iâd consider to be a curse.â You nodded, âoddly enough I wouldnât disagree. I know a snake when I see one and from a brief glance I wouldnât trust her at all.â
He nodded, âHave a good day moving in, if you need help my son and his wife will be returning soon. Iâm sure either of them would be willing to help with any problems.â
âHave a good day Mr.Itadori.â You bowed your head slightly and you both went separate ways.
âMori,â you sighed entering your house âcount these days.â
#sukuna ryomen#jjk anime#sukuna x reader#sukuna x you#daddy sukuna#jujutsu kaisen#ryomen sukuna#sukuna thirst#sukuna x wife reader
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Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Pt. 21
Word Count- 8.4k
Warnings- UNEDITED SUE ME- It's 4 AM and Iâve been working on this for the past 5 hours. Swearing, blood, stabbing, reader threatening to off herself with a spoon (idk man), death of a background character, Klaus, Stefan.
âAHHHH,â A loud scream escapes my mouth and I grab the closest thing to me and throw it.
âIâm happy to see you as well, Y/n.â
Elijah?
 I blink rapidly as I try to calm my racing heart. I stare wide-eyed at the suited Original before me, and he smiles back at me. His eyes drop momentarily and something shifts in his gaze.
âMaybe you should change, and then weâll discuss it, " Elijah says, turning to my desk and sitting in my chair as if he owned the place.
I frown in confusion at what he meant but as I glance down at the bright pink towel that is covering my wet body I freeze.
 âOh my god!â
I tighten my grip on my towel and run towards my closet. I squeeze into my tiny closet and shut the door. As Iâm trying my hardest to put any clothing on my body, I swear I can hear Elijah laugh to himself from outside the door.Â
As soon as I think my body is covered I take a deep breath. Elijah is in my bedroom. ELIJAH IS IN MY BEDROOM.
Deep breaths Y/n.
I release a shaky breath and open my closet door. I can feel my heart practically jump out of my chest when I lock eyes with Elijah as he smiles softly at me. His gaze drifts down and his soft smile turns into a shit-eating grin.Â
âIs that so, Elskan,â Elijah asks me with humor in his voice and I frown.
âWhat?â
Elijah doesnât say anything but he nods towards my shirt. I donât understand whatâs funny until I realize what shirt Iâm wearing.Â
âOh, youâve got to be kidding me,â I say as I glance down at the shirt Theo bought for me for my birthday. The shirt that says, in big bold letters âSay Perhaps to Drugs.â
âI donât do drugs,â I exclaim and then gesture to the door, âMy brother got this for me and I knew Iâd never wear it so I put it in the back of my closet but it was dark in there and so I mustâve just grabbed this.â
Elijah and I stared at each other for a moment after I got done rambling. Elijah seems to be finding everything incredibly entertaining though as his smile hasnât dropped this entire time.
âArenât you supposed to be dead,â I blurt out and his smile drops for a second but returns a moment later.
âIâve been dead for a millennium, Elskan,â Elijah retorts and I glare at him.
Elijah clears his throat and straightens out his suit jacket, âYouâre⌠acquaintance Damon took the dagger out of me. Iâm to meet him tomorrow morning.â
My eyebrows furrow, âDemon, helped you? I didnât know he was capable of that?â
Elijah releases a sigh, âYou are not the only one.â
I stare at the Original in front of me, well more like ogle. Not much has changed since the last time I saw him, heâs still got his god-like bone structure, expensive-ass clothing, and beautiful dark eyes. What has changed though is the new haircut, instead of the middle part, heâs now sporting a somewhat spiky shorter hairdo. And it pisses me off just how good he makes it look.Â
âYou got a haircut,â I state the obvious as I sit on the edge of my bed.Â
âUm,â I watch as Elijah fixes a stray hair of his, âI just had it done, itâs something different,â I have to bite back a smile at Elijahâs sudden awkwardness.Â
âI like it,â I blurt out and Elijah instantly looks up at me.Â
âYou do?â
The smile I was holding back peeks through at the look on his face. Elijah has the same look on his that a dog has when you wave a tennis ball in front of its face.Â
âI mean the middle part was nice, but you have the facial structure to pull this off too, so you know,â I gesture to his cheekbones and can feel my face warming up.Â
âMy facial structure,â Elijah questions and I want to die in a hole when I see his smirk.
I glare at Elijah and he smiles and then glances down at the book in his hands. When I realize heâs holding Fifty Shades of Grey my eyes widen.
âHow did you get that?!â
Elijah glances up at me and smirks again, âI believe you just threw it at me.â
My eyes widen as I realize that the book is what I threw at him when I came into the room.Â
âSo this is the literature that you were telling me about?â
My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water at Elijahâs questions.Â
âThatâs not mine.â
Elijah raises an eyebrow, âItâs not?â
I shake my head, walk over to him, and reach out my hand for him to give me the book, âNope. Just holding it for a friend.â
Elijah stares up at me with a smile and I feel a twisting in my stomach at the bright look in his eyes.
âHave you read it then?â
My face seems to be getting hotter at his question and I quickly shake my head, âNope. Have you?â
Elijah places the book in the palm of my hand and I clutch it to my chest.Â
âI prefer the real thing.â
I release an abnormal sound at his comment and feel my heart stop.
âThe real thing?â
Elijah smirks so hard that a small dimple is shown on his cheek, âYou know, real literature. Not that,â He gestures to the book with his hand, âthing.â
]I release a deep breath, âOh.â
Elijah nods his head and then raises an eyebrow at me, âWhat did you think I was talking about?â
I squint my eyes at him and then shake my head rapidly, âSame thing as you. Exactly the same thing. Um,â At the knowing look on Elijahâs face, I fight back a growl.Â
âHow did you get in my house,â I ask, trying to change the subject.Â
Elijah seems to realize this as he lets out a small breathy laugh, âYour mother, is quite the inviting woman. I told her I was writing my book about Mystic Falls and that I was working on a chapter about people whoâve moved to Mystic Falls and she was quite excited to tell me her story.â
At the mention of my mother, a dark feeling washes over me and I clench my fists.Â
âElskan? Is everything alright?â
I rub my shoulder and nod my head, âPeachy. Also, why are you here,â I turn to face him and he looks at me wearily.Â
âIâve been gone quite a while. Not that I wanted to be, for the record. I know that my brother has been in town and I wanted toâŚneeded to make sure youâre okay.â
My eyebrows furrow as he watches me.Â
âIâm fine, Elijah.â
âYou donât look fine, Y/n,â Elijah stands up and fixes his suit.
âOuch,â I bite out sarcastically.
Elijah shoots me a look and shakes his head, âThat is not what I mean, Elskan. There will never be a day in my immortality that I think you look anything other than ethereal, but⌠itâs in your eyes. Before I left you, you had a softer look in your eyes. But now⌠Iâm not sure, but I know something has changed. Whatâs happened since Iâve been gone, Y/n?â
Whatâs happened since Elijah was daggered in front of me? WellâŚ
I became besties with a vampire who was hired by his brother to stalk me.Â
I got shot.Â
Found out my dad, isnât my dad.
Moved out and moved in with Damon, who is kind of one of my closest friends now.
I keep having tiny heart attacks.
My brother knows about the supernatural.Â
I got kidnapped by Stefan and was saved by his brother.
Klaus. In general. Klaus kissing me. Yup.
âUm⌠not much. You know, average Mystic Falls stuff.â
Elijah still stares at me like he doesnât believe me, âY/n-â
âHave you seen your brother yet?â
Elijah quickly stops his talking at my interruption and his upper lip twitches.
âMomentarily.â
I blow out a breath at his lack of answer and sit in the chair he was once sitting in.Â
âIâm going to guess that you two didnât hug it out?â
Elijah walks over to my bookshelf and runs a finger over the spines of a few of my books.Â
âMy brother is not someone Iâd like to discuss right now. Or really at any time.â
âThen what do you want to discuss,â I question as I lean back into my chair.Â
Elijah turns back to glance at me, âYou. Iâll always want to discuss you.â
I roll my eyes at the comment, âNothing is interesting about me to talk about.â
Elijah walks over to me and leans against my desk. Our knees are touching and it seems to be the only thing I can focus on. I look up to Elijah and it seems Iâm not the only one. Elijahâs eyes go from our touching knees to looking down at me.
âI find that incredibly doubtful, Elskan.â
I let out a light scoff but canât stop the smile that makes its way onto my face as I look at the man. He looks back at me but this time his attention is on my lips and I swear I can see a hint of pink gracing his cheeks.Â
âWhat do you want to know?ââ
Elijah quickly clears his throat and glances up to meet my eyes, âI know you have a younger brother, Theodore, how is your relationship with him?â
At the mention of Theoâs legal name I let out a laugh, âDonât let him hear you calling him that. ButâŚTheoâs,â I stop and smile when I think of my annoying little brother, âHeâs my everything. Donât tell him I said that or itâll go right to his head, and he doesnât need anything else to build his ego. But⌠before when I didnât have any friends and was pretty much alone,â I stop and clear my throat, âTheo was the only one who grounded me. He didnât care that I was a loser, it didnât stop him from protecting me from bullies at school or sitting with me at lunch when I had no one else. Heâs my buddy and best friend.â
Elijah smiles softly at me and nods his head, âIâll have to remember to thank him for protecting you.â
I quickly shake my head, âPlease donât. Big ego and all that.â
Elijah laughs and I feel that weird turning in my stomach.Â
âOh! Speaking of siblings, I met your sister.â
At the mention of Rebekah, Elijah furrows his brows, âYouâve met Rebekah?â
I nod, âYa. SheâsâŚsomething.â
Elijah shoots me a look and I continue, âWell, sheâs nothing like you. Iâd definitely say sheâs more like Klaus. But unlike Klaus, sheâs⌠I donât know. Before Elena daggered her I could have seen myself being friends with her.â
âYes, my little sister is quite the character,â Elijah frowns and narrows his eyes at me, âYou said, unlike my brother⌠since Iâve been gone, have you and him,â Elijah picks at an invisible piece of lint on his shoulder, âdiscussed much?â
At the mention of Klaus, I go still.
âY/n?â
I look up to Elijah who is eyeing me wearily, âMe and Klaus? I mean Klaus! Because there is no me and Klaus! Itâs just Klaus!â
Elijahâs eyes narrow even more and I look away and glance at my hands.Â
âI mean he hasnât killed me so thatâs something,â I say casually trying to cover up the mess I just spilled out.Â
I hear Elijah let out a growl and he grabs my chin to make me look up to him, âTell me now, Y/n. Has my brother done anything to harm you? If he has I swear to whatever Gods are out there I will-â
âDude chill,â I move my face out of his hand and stand up.
âKlaus hasnât hurt me,â I think about my friends, âAt least not physically. Him torturing my friends has been kind of emotionally draining. But, no. Klaus, heâs been a nuisance but heâs not been horrible.â
Elijah and I watch each other, well more like I watch him and he accesses me.Â
âYouâre being truthful with me, right Elskan?â
I nod my head and let out a dramatic yawn, âYup, totally. God, what is the time? Iâm pooped.â
Elijah shoots me a look and then rolls his eyes dramatically.
I raise an eyebrow at him and smirk, âIf you keep rolling your eyes like that, youâre going to start looking like me.â
Elijah's tense shoulders loosen and he smiles at me and gestures to my bed, âHow tragic that would be. Lay down, Elskan.â
I raise an eyebrow and laugh, âWhy? Are you going to tuck me in and read me a bedtime story?â
Elijah walks over to me so heâs about a foot away from me, âI donât see why not. Youâve got plenty of literature for me to read to you,â He looks back to Fifty Shades which is still sitting on my desk.Â
âI would rather die,â I blurt out.Â
Elijah laughs and picks up the edge of my comforter. He gestures for me to lay down and I bite back a smile as I do.Â
I get under the covers and Elijah places the comforter back down. We stare at each other for a moment before Elijah leans down. I suck in a breath and close my eyes. When I feel Elijahâs lips place a kiss on my temple I let out a sigh.Â
âGoodnight, Elskan. Iâll be seeing you very soon.â
â-
My fatherâs in transition.
I stare blankly at the text from Caroline as I read it over and over again.Â
Excuse me?
Meredith Fell gave him blood and he died with it in his system.Â
Oh, Jesus Christ.
Ok. Should I meet you at the hospital? I can leave now????
I stare at the three dots as I wait for Caroline to finish typing. After what seems like forever I finally get a response.Â
No. Elena is on her way. Just wanted to keep you updated.Â
As soon as I read the text I pull out Elenaâs contact and type out a message.
WHAT THE HELL????!!! Who killed Carolineâs dad?????
Weâre not sure yet. There is someone going around killing council members. Sheriff Forbes said they were killed with one of the stakes from Ricâs collection. Iâll update you later. Stay safe<3
I sit on the edge of my bed, mouth wide open as I stare at the bomb drop that is this text message. Does Mystic Falls have a serial killer? What the fuck am I thinking?! Of course, it does, because what else could be more fucked up about this god-forsaken town!??Â
I throw my phone on my nightstand and run across the hall to Theoâs room. I throw open his door and my little brother lets out a squeal.
âJesus woman! Knock first! I couldâve been indecent,â Theo says as he tightens his silk robe around himself dramatically.Â
âWhen have you ever been decent in the first place,â I place my hand on my hip and glare at him.
Theo gives me an offended look.
âAlso, Mystic Falls now has a serial killer,â I drop the bomb and Theo blinks at me for a few moments.
âRepeat that one more time for me,â He gestures to his right ear.
âSerial. Killer. Mystic. Falls. Stay. Inside.â
Theo nods for a moment before turning around and running towards his phone, âLeave now woman, I must tell my precious baby boy about this.â
I roll my eyes and watch as my pathetic brother dials up Jeremyâs phone number.
âYouâre welcome.â
â
For the rest of the afternoon, I tried to do anything to keep me busy. I tried painting, but couldnât paint anything. I tried reading, but couldnât focus on the words. I even tried yoga, and now I have pains in my lower back.Â
To say I pretty much jumped when my phone finally rang is an understatement.
âHello! Whatâs going on!?â
âWoah, Pukey. Glad to know youâre finally excited to hear from me,â Demonâs sarcastic voice comes through on the other end.Â
âYouâre not who I was hoping it would be,â I groan.
âAnd who were you hoping? A certain Original maybe? Not sure which one you were hoping for though. We need to have another movie night so you can update me on your latest conquest.â
âWhat the hell are you gabbing about now, Demon?â
âOh you know, a certain suited Original. Or maybe his younger brother who just happened to save your life the other night. Just between us girls, which one is currently tickling your fancy?â
I tighten my grip on my phone, âIâm hanging up.â
âWait! I have a favor to ask,â Damon stops me from ending the call.
I sigh, âWhat is it now?â
âI need you to get yourself all dolled up and make your way to the big bad wolfâs house at 8.â
At the idea of seeing Klaus, I freeze up.
âPukey?â
I shake my head, âThatâs not happening, Damon. Deal with him on your own.â
âY/n, come on. Help a friend out.â
âWeâre not friends,â I retort.
âLovers?â
âIâll kill you in your sleep.â
âI just love your dirty talk. It amazes me how youâre still single,â Damonâs sarcastic response has my upper lip twitching.Â
âIâll help you stab Stefan with a fork if you come.â
I look back to my closet, âEight, you said?â
âÂ
I let out the biggest sigh possible as I stared at the huge mansion in front of me. I then groan when the fabric of my short dress rides its way up my thighs.Â
After I got off the phone with Damon I went to my closet to find something to wear. I then realized that the only nice clothing I had was the clothes that Alastair bought for me. And as much as I hate saying it, he does have pretty good taste in fashion.Â
As I try to pull down the short hem of my black lace dress though, Iâm not realizing he isnât the best at guessing womenâs sizes. Every time I pull my dress down so I cover half my thigh, the tiny spaghetti straps holding the dress up pull down farther to give an ample view of my chest. Fantastic.Â
I make my way up the stairs and I just have to keep reminding myself that Iâll get to stab Stefan. When I reach the huge front door I let out a deep breath and knock on it with my shaking hand.Â
Not even a moment later a blonde woman in a gold dress answers the door, âCan I help you?â
I stare at her confused, âUm, Iâm here for a dinner party?â
The woman stares at me blankly and nods her head, âOf course. Right this way,â she says to me in a monotone voice, and Iâve concluded that sheâs most likely been compelled.
The blonde woman leads me through the house and into a large room where Damon, Elijah, Klaus, and Not-Yoda are conversing. Theyâve all noticed my arrival now but I just stare at Damon hoping heâll take the lead on this one.Â
âThereâs my girl,â Damon loudly says as he hops up the steps to me and reaches out his arm for me to take, âI was wondering what was taking you so long.â
I shoot Damon a questioning look at his odd behavior but as I look at the other three menâs surprised faces Iâm concluding that they didnât know I was coming.Â
âElskan, IâŚ,â Elijah stares at me as his eyes move quickly over me and I bite my lip in embarrassment.Â
âIâm sorry for crashing your party,â I gesture towards the door, âIâm just going to leave.â
âWait,â Elijah calls after me and I watch as he climbs the steps to where Damon and I are standing, âPlease, join us.â
I look down at Elijah who has his hand raised for me to take, then to Damon who has a smirk on his face, then to Stefan who looks like heâd rather be anywhere but here, and then to Klaus. The hybrid is sitting in a chair closest to the wall, from his casual posture someone would think heâs in a good mood but as he raises a glass of red liquid to his lips, but as his dark blue eyes meet mine, I can see the dark fire burning underneath his surface.Â
And thatâs when I realize, Elijah may want me here, but his younger brother certainly doesnât.Â
 âY/n?â
I look away from Klaus and back to Elijah who is looking at me expectantly.Â
âUm, ya. If thatâs alright with you,â I take my arm out of Damonâs and place my left hand into Elijahâs. He slightly tugs me away from Damon with a smile on his face. But as I come almost chest to chest with him his smile drops and dark looks cover his face. A sick feeling builds in my stomach as Elijah drops my hand and grabs my shoulder. I frown, in confusion, but when his thumb grazes my gunshot scar I tense up.
âWhat happened here,â Elijahâs usually light voice drops into something that makes me want to crawl into a ball and hide. When I look up at him though, I realize he wasnât asking me, instead he was asking the other men in the room.Â
Elijahâs hand hasnât left its position on my shoulder as he glares at the three men in the room.Â
âI suggest one of you answer me, now.â
âShe was shot,â Damon answers for the other two men.Â
Elijahâs thumb stops its grazing and his gaze goes from my scar to Damon.Â
âWho did it?â
At Elijahâs harsh tone, Damon shoots me a look and I shrug.Â
âIt was an accident,â Damon tries to joke.Â
Elijah doesn't seem to find it funny though as a low growl escapes him, making me flinch back.Â
âBrother,â Klaus practically growls at his older brother.Â
Elijahâs gaze quickly turns to me and his dark look drops as soon as he makes eye contact with me.Â
âElskan,â Elijah takes a step towards me and I take a step back towards Damon.Â
The look of utter heartbreak on Elijahâs face makes something deep inside me break as he lowers his hand that is outstretched for me.Â
âCan we just get this dinner over with,â Stefan interrupts us with his annoyed tone.Â
I turn my gaze to the asshole but can still feel Elijahâs eyes on me.Â
âThat would be great,â Damon says and slowly gestures for me to go in front of him.Â
I nod and start to walk towards the table when I realize there are only four chairs.Â
âOh.â
âHere let me, Elskan,â Elijah quickly says and goes to the edge of the room grabs a chair, and places it at the table. He stands behind it and gestures for me to sit down. I smile at him and nod in thanks. This seems to bring back his mood as his eyes lighten at my acknowledgment.Â
After I sit down, Elijah seats himself in the chair to my right. I then look to my left and realize that Klaus is seated right beside me.Â
A girl dressed in the same gold one as before places a plate and silverware in front of me but almost all of my attention is on Klaus. Who seems to not even care to recognize my existence. I mean why should I care though? Right?
â
âYou lost your appetite. Eat,â Klaus Says to Stefan who is sitting directly across from us.
 Damon chastises his little brother, âI thought we agreed to leave the grumpy Stefan at home.â
I roll my eyes as I pick at the mashed potatoes on my plate. Weâve been sitting for maybe 5 minutes and yet Stefan has already found a way to ruin the night.Â
Stefan gives his brother and Klaus a fake smile before picking at the food on his plate.
âThatâs the spirit,â Klaus smirks.Â
âWine, Miss?â
I turn my shoulder to one of the waitresses who is holding out a bottle of wine. I shake my head.
âNo, thank you. I donât drink.â
The girl nods her head and then walks over to Klaus and offers him wine.
âYou donât drink?â
My attention turns to Elijah who is leaning towards me with an interested look on his face.
I shake my head, âIâm not 21.â
Elijah smiles at me, âI know that. But, if you wanted some, Iâm sure no one here would tell the authorities.â
I look at the glass of wine in front of Klaus and a wave of nausea rolls through me, âNo. Iâm good with my water. Thanks,â I smile and hope he drops the subject.Â
Thankfully Klaus loves hearing himself speak.Â
âIsnât this nice,â He asks us, âThe five of us dining together. Such a treat. Is this what you had in mind when you pulled the dagger out of my brother?â
I let out a low breath and sip my water as I watch the men in front of me start their little war.Â
âWell, I know what he felt about you, so I figured, the moreâŚthe merrier,â Damon smirks and winks at Elija, and I shake my head. This guy really needs to realize he canât keep picking fights with men 10 times his age.Â
âWell,â Klaus responds, âElijah and I have had our share of quarrels over the centuries, but we always make it through.â
âKind of like, uh, you and Rebekah, right,â Stefan joins in and I set down my water, âWhere is she, by the way? Last I checked, she was still daggered because you were afraid to face her.â
âIf youâre referring to the fact that Rebekah knows I killed our mother Iâve already come clean to Elijah.â
Klausâ words have me glancing at Elijah. Although his face appears nonchalant I watch as his fingers tightly grip the glass heâs holding. It doesnât take him but a moment to notice my staring and he shoots me a small smile.Â
âHey, Stef, remember when you killed Dad? Might want to dial down the judgment till dessert,â Damon remarks to his brother, and my eyebrows raise.Â
âOh, so hurting people you supposedly care about is something youâve been doing for over a century now,â I smile snarkily at the vampire who glares at me, âAnd here I thought it was only something you did to your girlfriend, and friends.â
Stefan goes to say something but I clear my throat and raise a hand stopping him, âMy apologies,â I place a hand to my chest, âI meant ex-girlfriend.â
I hear Klaus snort into his drink from beside me and I jolt when I feel his hand grip my thigh and squeeze it.Â
âI fear I mightâve missed some things,â Elijah shoots me a look with a sly smile.Â
Klaus still has his hand gripping my thigh so focusing is starting to become hard.
âYes, youâve missed my brother burning all the bridges he once had,â Damon responds and then takes a sip of his wine.
âKind of like the bridge he tried driving me and his EX-girlfriend off of,â I respond casually and I feel Klaus squeeze my thigh again.
âYou did what,â Elijahâs voice comes out low and I look over to see him glaring at Stefan, the latter who is trying his hardest not to make eye contact with the Original.Â
âOoookay. Weâre here to make a deal, gentlemen. Not kill each other,â Damon tries to clear the air.Â
âMight want to remind your brother that,â I bite out and match Elijahâs glare.
Damon shoots me a look and I roll my eyes.Â
âWe have a long evening ahead of us,â Damon continues, âPace yourselves.â
â-
âWhere is the lovely Elena tonight,â Elijah asks at the table and I glance at my phone hoping to get a message from anyone. But frown when I see only one text notification from Theo asking how to cook instant noodles. I donât respond.Â
âI donât know. Ask Damon,â Stefan says and Klaus and I both laugh.Â
âIâd say to ask your little girlfriend over here,â Damon points to me and I stare wide-eyed at him. I feel Klausâ hand tighten around my thigh.Â
âIâm sorry,â Klaus looks over to his brother, âyouâve missed so much. Ah, trouble in paradise.â
âOne more word about Elena and this dinner is over,â Stefan gazes at everyone at the table and I roll my eyes.
âAnd here I thought you were melodramatic when you were off blood,â I stare blankly at the vampire across from me who stares back at me.Â
âI never understood why Elena was friends with you,â Stefan responds.
âAnd what is that supposed to mean,â I lean forward and glare at him.
Stefan shrugs and leans back, âI just mean that all of her other friends arenât fragile like you. Physically and emotionally. I mean youâve had to realize that youâre always the last one to find out about things going on. It's because youâre nothing but a liability.â
I stare at Stefan and for a moment Iâm right back to the scared little girl who would puke at the first sign of danger. Because heâs right. I am a liability. Thereâs nothing special about me. Iâm just some weak human that no one wants around because they know Iâll just get hurt. Or throw up.Â
Iâm still sitting silent when I hear Elijahâs chair push backward. But before he can do anything Stefan is being dragged out of his chair by the next by Klaus.Â
âLet me make one thing perfectly clear old friend,â Klaus brings Stefan up to his face as Klaus growls down to him, âIf I catch you even looking in Y/nâs direction one more time tonight, coffin or no coffin, I will rip you apart. Limb by bloody limb, and feed your body parts to your brother,â Klaus grips Stefanâs throat tighter to the point where I think heâs going to kill him, âHave I made myself clear?â
I watch in shock, along with Elijah and Damon who appear to be the same as Stefan nods to Klaus.Â
âWords, Stefan,â Klaus growls.
âI wonât look at her,â Stefan chokes out.
In a second Stefan is being dropped to the ground and Klaus is walking back over to his seat as if nothing happened.Â
âPerfect,â Klaus smirks, âShall we continue?â
I stare wide-eyed at the hybrid next to me, but he doesnât look over at me.
I look over to Elijah who sits back in his seat, but his gaze is on his brother. A look I canât quite distinguish is on his face.Â
âAlrightâŚletâs keep Elena and Y/n, in the âDo Not Discussâ pile,â Damon says.Â
The other men nod their heads but a chuckle from Klaus has me sighing.Â
âItâs just the allure of the Petrova Doppelganger is still so strong,â Klaus says and a wave of jealously washes over me.Â
âWhat do you say, brother? Should we tell them about Tatia,â Klaus turns to his brother who lets out a sigh.Â
Elijah shakes his head, âNow why should we discuss matters long since resolved?â
I furrow my brows at Elijahâs comment.
âWell, given their shared affection for both Elena and Katerina I think our guests might be curious to learn about the originator of the Petrova line.ââ
I take a long sip of my water and start to regret not getting that glass of wine when I had the chance.
âWell, weâre not going anywhere Elijah. Please, do tell,â Damon says.
âPlease, donât,â I whisper under my breath and feel Klausâ hand squeeze my thigh again.Â
âWhen our family first settled here there was a girl named Tatia. She was an exquisite beauty. Every boy of age desired to be her suitor. Even though sheâd had a child by another man. And none loved her more than Niklaus,â Elijah says, and that wave of jealousy from before builds.Â
âOh, Iâd say there was one who loved her at least as much,â Klaus says thoughtfully and I roll my shoulders in annoyance.Â
âWait a minute,â Stefan cuts in, âyou both loved the same girl?â
I place my right hand on my thigh and tighten it into a fist as I stare at Stefan. Iâm about to break skin when a hand pulls my fingers apart and intertwines its fingers with my own.Â
I look up at Elijah who is already staring at me with a worried look.Â
I have one left thigh being grabbed by Klaus and my right hand intertwined with Elijah. What the actual fuck is going on right now?
Elijah squeezes my hand before continuing, âOur mother was a very powerful witch. She sought to end our feud with Tatia and so she took her. And Klaus and I would later learn that it was Tatiaâs blood that we consumed in the wine on the night where our mother performed the spell which turned us into vampires.â
I release a small gasp and squeeze Elijahâs hand in comfort. What kind of mother would do that to her children?
âTatia wouldnât make a decision between the two of us so for a time, Niklaus and I grew estranged. Harsh words were traded. We even came to blows, didnât we, brother?â
âBut in the end, we recognized the sacred bond of family,â Klaus responds.
âFamily aboveâŚall,â Elijah finishes.
Each brother uses their free hand to cheer their drinks together, and at the same time, I feel Klaus tighten his hold on my thigh and Elijah squeezes my hand.Â
What the fuck.
â-Â
âSo why donât we move this evening along and discuss the terms of this proposal,â Elijah asks the Salvawhore brothers.
âWell,â Damon starts, âItâs very simple. Klaus gets his coffins back. In exchange, he and the Original extended family leave Mystic Falls forever. Me, Stefan, Elena, and Pukey, live happily ever afterâŚno grudges.â
At the thought of never seeing ElijahâŚor Klaus again a weird feeling washes through me.Â
âMost of the deal sounds fair, brother,â Elijah says.Â
âI donât think you understand,â Klaus responds, âElenaâs Doppelganger blood ensures that I will always have more hybrids to fight those that oppose me. I will never leave her behind.â
Klaus stands up, and I can finally release a breath as his warm hand is gone from my thigh.
âLetâs say I do leave her here under your protection, what then? How long before one of you turns her into a vampire? Or worse, how long before she dies caught between your feuding, you see each one of you truly believes that youâre the one that can protect her. And that is simply a delusion. GentlemenâŚthe worst thing for Elena Gilbert isâŚthe two of you.â
I try not to agree with Klausâ words but heâs kind of right.
âIâm gonna get some air,â Damon says and gets up from the table.Â
Elijah squeezes my hand before standing up, âLet me deal with this,â He says before following Damon. Which I find quite odd.Â
âAll this talk has made me thirsty,â Klaus says as he leans on the top of his chair.Â
âWhat do you say, Stefan,â Klaus gestures to one of the servers, âCan I interest you in a little after-dinner drink?â
Within in split second Klaus is biting into the poor womanâs neck and I flinch backward. I quickly stand up from my chair and away from Klaus. I watch in horror as Klaus drains the young woman.
âKlaus, stop! Youâre going to kill her,â I try to beg him but he doesnât spare me a glance as he drops the poor girl's body down on the ground. I rush over to her to check for a pulse but feel tears rush to my eyes when I feel nothing.Â
âOh come on, Princess,â I feel Klaus touch my shoulder and I flinch away from him. Something shifts in his face at my movement but quickly morphs back into his sarcastic smirk, âGet off the floor, itâs dirty. Youâll ruin the pretty dress of yours.â
âDonât touch me,â I look up at him and growl.
âWell, you two will make a happy couple,â Stefan remarks as he stands up from his chair.
Klausâ attention goes from me to Stefan as he glares at him.
âI guess the only reason agreed to this evening, Klaus is to drive a wedge between me and my brother,â Stefan says as he walks over to Klaus.Â
I wipe the hair away from the poor girlâs face and then stand up, distancing myself from the two men.Â
âOh no, youâre doing that well enough on your own. Because of Elena, youâre going to lose your brother and youâll only have yourself to blame,â Klaus says.
âWhat do you say, Klaus? Itâs time for you to put something on the table. Weâve made our offer, now you counterâ Damon enters the room again followed by Elijah. The latterâs attention goes to me and a worried expression comes over his face as he rushes over to me.Â
Elijah raises his hands and wipes away tears from my face, âWhat happened? Are you hurt?â
I donât say anything as I look over at the dead girl on the floor. I hear Elijah take a deep sigh as he looks at her and then he gestures to someone behind us. Right after two waiters walk over to her body and pick her up off the floor.
I watch wordlessly as they take her lifeless body out of the room.Â
âIâm sorry you had to see that, Elskan. My brother shouldnât have done that in front of you.â
âHe shouldnât have done it at all,â I bite out quietly.Â
âItâs ironic,â Stefanâs voice pulls all of our attention as he gestures to Klaus and then Elijah, âYou talk about how Damon and I are causing a rift between ourselves because of Elena when you and Elijah are clearly doing the same.â
I frown as Stefan looks over to Klaus and then over to me and Elijah. I frown in confusion.
âI have no idea what youâre talking about, Stefan. Once again your bloodlust has made you irrational,â Klaus responds sarcastically but his voice is deeper than before and I feel Elijah pull me behind him.Â
âDonât play dumb Klaus,â Stefan smirks snarkily at the Orignal, âI know what she is to you. And from the way Elijah hangs onto every word she says as if sheâs the only thing in this world that exists to him, Iâm going to take a wild guess and say sheâs the same thing to him. So tell me, which of us is truly going to be torn away from our brother?â
I stared confused at the men in front of me.
âElijah, what is he talking about?â
I walk next to Elijah but he wonât look down at me, âItâs nothing, Y/n. Ignore him. Mr. Salvatore, donât you think youâve had enough to drink tonight?â
At Elijahâs equally dark tone, I get even more confused.Â
âWill someone just tell me what the hell is going on?!â
Stefan finally looks over to me and I see Elijah start to move in front of me again but I push him back, âDonât.â
âMr. Salvatore if you continue, I will rip your head from your shoulders,â Elijah threatens Stefan.Â
âLetâs go back to the negotiating shall we,â Klaus interrupts and I shoot him a glare.
âFuck no! I swear to god if someone doesn't start giving me answers soon Iâm going to kill myself in front of you all right now to change the trajectories of ALL your lives,â I yell out and move towards the table and grab a knife. Shit. Not a knife, a spoon.
âStefan,â I turn and glare at the vampire who watches me with a raised eyebrow, âSpill it.â
âStefan if you do I swear to-â Klaus begins and I hold the spoon up to my neck and glare at him. He just looks at me like Iâm a nuisance.Â
âShut it, dog!â
âBrother, maybe this is something that should be held off for another time,â Damon chimes in from the background.
âYou shut it too, Manwhore,â I glare at Damon who raises his hands in surrender.Â
âElskan,â Elijah says and I look over to see him walking towards me and I glare at him, âLet us finish dinner, and then I give you my word that we will discuss this.â
I shake my head at his words, âNo. Youâll just come up with another excuse or youâll say again that I canât know just yet. And Iâm sick of it! Iâm not some liability, compared to what everyone thinks! I can handle whatever you throw at me.â
Elijah sends me a sad look that pisses me off, âI know, Y/n. No more of that, I promise you.â
I stare at him for a moment before turning towards Klaus who is glaring at his older brother, âBrother, you canât be serious?!â
âNiklaus she deserves to know,â Elijah says and Klaus opens his mouth to begin to argue.
âScrew this,â I hear Stefan say, âY/n, youâre their soulmate. Which is a supernatural phenomenon that only happens to a few supernaturals.â
âFuck,â I hear Elijah mutter under his breath.
I loud growl escapes Klaus as he rushes over to Stefan and grabs him by the throat.Â
âIâm sorry, what,â I release a laugh at the absurdity that is that answer.Â
All the men turn to look at me and I place the spoon back on the table.Â
âThatâs a ridiculous answer, Stefan, thanks for the laugh but now the adults are talking,â I turn back to Elijah, âSo youâll tell me after dinner?â
Elijah stands there silently, as he just blinks at me with his mouth slightly open.Â
I raise an eyebrow at him and then turn to Klaus, âWhatâs wrong with him?â
Klaus drops Stefan and then looks at Elijah and then at me. He opens his mouth and then closes it again.
âHow about we discuss this after dinner,â Klaus asks and I sigh but nod my head.Â
âIf you donât keep your word, Iâm daggering you myself,â I turn back and glare at Elijah who blinks at me again.Â
âAlright then,â Klaus starts, âI offer Elenaâs future happiness. You see what she needs right now is to be rid of you lot and to fall in love with a human. Maybe that nice football player. You know the blonde one.â
âMatt Donovan? Really,â Damon asks disgustedly.Â
âYa, why not? Theyâll marry, live a long fruitful life and pop out a perfect family.â
âAnd continue the Petrova bloodline,â Stefan concludes, âEvery few hundred years youâll have a new Doppelganger to drain and never run out of hybrids, right, Klaus?â
âConsider it a small return on my investment in her well-being. See, after you hand me back the coffin. Iâll ensure her safety for the rest of her natural life. You know it's whatâs best for her. So⌠What do you say, Stefan,â Klaus walks over to the younger vampire, âDo we have a deal?â
Stefan meets Klaus in the middle and goes to shake Klausâ hand.
âNice try, Klaus. But no deal,â Stefan says, and within a second Klaus is breaking Stefanâs hand and legs. And then brings his hand to the flames of the fireplace.Â
Damon begins to run to help his brother but Elijah easily grabs him by the throat and holds him to the wall. All I do though I stand by the table and drink my water.Â
âNow bring me my coffin before I burn him alive,â Klaus says to Damon who finally relents.Â
âGo with him, brother. You keep him honest. When you return I will make good on my promise to you and I will hand over our family,â Klaus says to Elijah who gives me a quick glance before following behind Damon.
With a sigh, I sit down at the table again sip my water, and pick at the leftover corn. Behind me, Klaus is still threatening and burning Stefan but I honestly donât give a damn. He needs to be brought down a peg. WaitâŚ
âKlaus,â I turn in my chair and the hybrid looks over to me.
âWhat is it, love? Iâm kind of in the middle of something here,â He gestures to Stefan and I shrug.Â
âWhile youâve got him down there,â I stand up and sneakily grab the carving knife off the table, âDamon promised me I could have something if I came tonight. And since he; 's currently gone I was hoping you could help me,â I send him a sickly sweet smile and something shifts in his face and his smile matches mine.
âI donât see why I canât,â Klaus smirks and I practically skip over to the two men.Â
When I get in front of Stefan who looks up at me with a glare, I lean down to meet eye level with him. At the same time, I see Klaus tighten his hold on Stefan. I look up at the hybrid but heâs already watching me with an intense gaze.Â
âI thought we were friends Stefan. I told you things about myself that I donât tell many people. And you know what you did,â I fake a frown and lean closer into the vampire, âYou threatened my little brother and tried to drown me. So fuck you,â Right when I say the last words I take the knife that is in my hands and plunge it into Stefanâs stomach.Â
Stefan drops to the ground in pain and Klaus lets him. That red-hot anger I felt those weeks ago returns as I watch Stefan try to pry the bloody knife out of his stomach.Â
âI donât think Iâve ever been more attracted to a woman more, in my entire life, Astin Min.â
Klausâ words shock me out of my trance and I look up to see him staring down at me with an undistinguishable look.Â
Klaus raises his hand and wipes a finger across my cheek. When he brings his finger back the tip of it is covered in blood, Stefanâs blood.Â
I watch almost entranced as Klaus locks eyes with me as he brings his finger to his lips and sucks the blood off his finger.Â
âWhatâs going on here,â Elijahâs voice has me quickly stepping away from both of the men.
Elijahâs eyes trail over me and stop at my hands which I can see now are covered in blood.Â
âDamon said I could do it,â I quickly point at the vampire standing next to him who shoots me a glare.Â
âWhy havenât you left,â Klaus asks his brother as a waitress enters the room carrying a serving tray.Â
Elijahâs narrowed eyes leave mine to move to his brother, âWell, where are your manners, brother? You forgot dessert?â
I hope itâs a strawberry shortcake!
Elijah rips a blanket off of the tray to reveal two daggers. Damnit.Â
âWhat have you done,â Klaus takes a step back.Â
âWhat have you done,â Elijaah retorts, âSee, Iâve learned not to trust your vulgar promises, Klaus. Weâre doing this on my terms now.â
Why was that kind of attractive? No, Y/n. Stop it!
All of a sudden a young attractive man enters the room behind Elijah and Klaus.
âKol,â Klaus exclaims.
âLong time, brother,â âKolâ Responds.
Klaus backs away shaking his head and the scared look on his face makes me feel sick. Klaus goes to escape but a man with long brown hair stops him.
âFinn, donât!â
âFinnâ stabs Klaus right in his hand and I take a step forward. Within a second though my view is being blocked by Elijah.Â
âStay back,â Elijah softly whispers to me and reaches a hand behind him for me to take. I look at my shaking bloody hand and intertwine it with his.Â
Klaus speeds towards the other exit but Rebekah comes into view.Â
âRebekah,â Klaus exclaims right when his sister stabs him in the stomach.Â
âI canât watch,â I lean into Elijah and he pulls me into him hiding my face into his neck.
âThis is for our mother,â I hear Rebekah say.Â
âYouâre free to go,â Elijah's chest rumbles as he speaks. I look up at him and he glances down at me and uses his hand to brush away the hair on my face.Â
âYou can stay or leave,â He whispers down to me and I turn to see everyone in the room staring at me now.Â
âAh, Elijah! Youâve finally met your soulmate,â Kol smirks as he takes a step towards us and Elijah lets out a low growl, âCongrats brother.â
At Kolâs words, I frown, âElijah? What is he talking about?â
âKol, you daft idiot,â Rebekah screeches, âShe doesnât know sheâs Nikâs soulmate yet!â
âNikâs soulmate? No, sheâs quite clearly Elijahâs,â Kol gestures to how Elijah is holding on to me.Â
Rebekah, Kol, and the other sibling, Finn, all stare at me with confused looks on their faces before Kol breaks out into a loud laugh.Â
âBloody hell! You poor girl,â Kol stares wide-eyed at me and then at Elijah and Klaus, the latter who watches his younger brother with a glare, âYou got sacked with both of them. Didnât you?â
I stare at the young man in front of me and can start to feel myself shake, âElijah whatâs happening?â
âIâll explain everything, Elskan. Let the Salvatores take you home and I swear to you I will explain it all,â Elijah says and I release a shaky breath as I nod at his words.
Elijah presses a kiss to my temple before nodding to Damon, who quickly comes and grabs my upper arm.Â
âMr. Salvatore, I promise you if anything happens to her while in your careâŚâ
Damon quickly nods his head, âI got it. Come on, Pukey. Letâs go home.â
The last thing I see before I exit the room is the pain-stricken eyes of the Original hybrid.
#klaus mikaleson imagine#klaus mikaelson#damon salvatore#athenamikaelson#thecwshows#elijah mikaelson#klaus x reader#the originals#the vampire diares imagine#author#tvd klaus#klaus mikealson x reader#elijah mikaelson x reader#elijah mikaelson imagine#stefan x elena#elena gilbert#davina claire#damon salvatore imagine#alaric saltzman#stephan salvatore#caroline forbes#bonnie bennett#thevampirediaries#the vampire diaries#theoriginalsimagines#rebekah mikaelson#x reader#reader
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What We Want - Chpt. 1 - Not Quite An Isekai
In Which A Romantic Breaks The Universe
(Yandere!batboys x f!reader) 18+ MDNI!
SUMMARY
Another lonely birthday, another empty year. You miss your family. You're late for your bills and rent, and even then, you got robbed last Tuesday.
Still, you buy yourself a cupcake, because you need it. I mean, hey. What's dessert for if not to get over cheating boyfriends and dead relatives?
As you blow out the candle, watching the clock switch from 11:59 pm to midnight of the next day, you make a wish.
And because the world doesn't like to make much sense, it comes true. Your life is suddenly flipped on a dime, and you're stuck trying to catch up with it. Fantasy becomes reality. You're a Wayne now, apparently. Or you used to be. You're loved, you're rich, you're talented and powerful.
Well, sort of. Careful what you wish for, right?
(TRIGGER WARNINGS AND MASTERLIST HERE)
PREV - NEXT
You awake to the sound of your phone ringing. You slap to the edge of your couch, aiming for the rickety side table. Your wrist smacks against the corner, and you hiss in pain. Itâs a few inches too high, and wood, not metal. Seems you somehow got to your bed during the night, but you didnât remember it. Still, you get your phone. Through squinted eyes, you find the screen, its 3:15, far too early for your drunken suffering- Wait no, itâs mid-afternoon. Still, you feel tired, and you want to sleep.
You answer the phone anyway, putting it on speaker and resting your head back against the pillow. Your head doesnât hurt that bad anyway. God was smiling down on you today.
âMiss, are you awake?â a manâs voice rings through your apartment.
Who was that? Who called you Miss of all things? Your boss didnât remember your name sure, but he just called you âinternâ instead. Youâd been an official employee for six months now. Right, conversation, paying attention, replying like a normal person.
âHm, yeah, Iâm awake,â you say, fighting back the urge to yawn.
âYou donât sound very awake, Miss,â the man replies, his tone familiar.
âWho is this?â
He sighs, âMiss, are you being sarcastic?â
âWhat? No, Iâm serious,â you confusedly answer.
ââŚThis is Alfred, Miss. Now, Master Wayne has asked me to-â
âMaster who now?â you cut this Alfred off, doubly confused now. Wayne? Like, the Wayne family? The rich, philanthropist one?
He sighs again, âI understand the relationship between the two of you is quite strained, and this is a personally difficult day for you, but he insists on seeing you. Your birthday gala starts at 7, as Iâve told you, and your assistant will be over at 4. I ask that you unblock both their accounts, as I would much rather I didnât have to talk to you when youâre like this.â
âWhat?â you repeat, like the idiot you are.
âGood day, Miss. And happy birthday.â
He hangs up. You blink down at your phone. And then you roll your eyes, because oh my god are Mollyâs pranks getting ridiculous. You never should have told her about your weird fascination with the Waynes, she was getting back at you hard for your drunken mistake.
You make a lot of those. Well, life goes on. Youâll put glitter in Mollyâs carâs vanity mirror or something.
You turn off your phone, and let your face slam right back into your pillow. For a while, you try to go back to sleep.
âŚSomething about this isnât right. You, like the freak you are, take a deep inhale of your pillow. It smells like you, like the laundry soap you use, but it also smells like⌠Well, you donât know. All you can think about is your new bossâs wife and her awful perfume that swallows the office space like noxious gas.
Your pillow⌠kind of smells like that. Your first ungodly thought is that, somehow, you spent a torrid night with your bossâs wife. The second is that Molly needs to die for her crimes.
You let your crusty, bleary, stinging eyes blink open.
Hm. Why is there a chandelier in your bedroom? You shoot upright in the bed, silk sheets falling to your lap. Silk sheets you canât afford. You look around the room, eyes widening at the space. The bed is king-sized, while you had barely been able to afford your twin-sized mattress. The living room isnât in the same space as the bedroom. You canât see the kitchen and the bathroom to your right has shining marble tiles. And even then, the decorationâs are luxurious and clean, compared to your livable chaos.
You look to your left, and your mouth drops open.
A floor-to-ceiling window, showing the Gotham horizon with the morning sun. Fog and clouds twist around spiralling gothic towers, reaching down to the people down below. Youâre looking out over the bay, and you can see the Narrows barely peaking through the mist, desperately clawing for any sunlight.
The sun rises on the right of your building, not the left. You donât have a view, youâre on the fourth floor and thereâs a brick building directly across from your window. You live in the Narrows.
You live in the Narrows. You press your face to the cool glass and look down. Oh my god, you canât see the streetside. Youâre too high up. Youâre somehow on the opposite side of Gotham City.
Stumbling away from the window, you do your best not to touch anything, because you know itâs all too expensive for your peasant hand. Letâs start thinking⌠whatever was happening to you, through. Molly might kidnap you for a joke, sure, but she was barely any richer than you, and that was just because her boyfriend lived with her. She could not afford this level of fuckery.
So⌠so⌠is this, what? A big joke from the universe? Did someone else kidnap you? You have to have been kidnapped, right? Why the fuck would someone kidnap you?
Did the Joker kidnap you? Was he coming to finish you off? End your family line?
You reach down and pinch yourself hard enough you yelp. When the dazzlingly perfect apartment doesnât disappear, itâs much harder to force yourself not to panic. Okay, okay, okay. Itâs fine. Thisâll be fine, and it could still be a dream. That whole pinching thing was a myth, right? Argh, maybe you shouldâve listened to Molly when she was trying to get you into astral projection.
Wait, Molly!
You go back to your bed and pick up your phone.
Itâs⌠itâs not your phone. What was this? The iPhone 27? You didnât keep up with those sorts of things, but it looked expensive. Everything here looked expensive.
You think youâre going to go into anaphylactic shock. Wait, no, itâs hyper-something. What was it? Argh, you canât do this right now!
You press your thumb to the âonâ button, and luckily whoever this phone belongs to is not worried about their privacy because there's no password. Stupidly, you look for Mollyâs name in your list of contacts.
BLOCKED - âBruce Wayneâ
BLOCKED - âDamian Wayneâ
BLOCKED - âDick Graysonâ
BLOCKED - âTim Drakeâ
âAlfred :)â
BLOCKED - âThe Wicked Witch of the Westâ
You drop the phone. Because the floors, even in the bedroom, are marble, it shatters like glass. You make a sound like a dying chicken as you watch the piece of technology make a bouncing break for the bathroom. It slides to a stop against the giant hot tub, and you pick it up and cradle it between your palms like a newborn.
The screen still works. Even if itâs cracked to high heaven and takes multiple attempts to turn it on, it still eventually does. Thanks God, wonât forget this. You hiss as you open the contacts again, pricking your fingers against the sharp edges.
As fate commands, you click on the âBruce Wayneâ contact. The description is very simple.
âMassive dickhead. Hope you jump off a building and fall like a rock.â
You go back. Click on âDick Graysonâ.
âMassive dickheadâs beloved firstborn. Most annoying man on earth congrats.â
Again. âDamian Wayneâ this time.
âMassive dickheadâs massive dickhead. Demon? Grinch? Somebody kill it with fire please.â
And finally, âTim Drakeâ.
âThe only acceptable one.â
âŚWell, at least your kidnapper liked one of the Waynes. Maybe they kidnapped you because you were their opposite or something? You definitely wouldnât call Bruce motherfucking Wayne a massive dickhead. Or maybe they wanted to kill you.
The Molly prank idea was becoming more sound. Maybe she won the lottery and didnât tell you.
You click on âAlfred :)â. Heâs the one that called you earlier and also called you âMissâ, for some reason.
Itâs just a bunch of heart emojis. Coherent, sure.
You go back, and click on the final of the list, âThe Wicked Witch of the Westâ.
âDonât listen to Alfred. She wants to eat you.â
She wants to what?
A knock at the door has you jumping a foot in the air and nearly banging your head on the bathtubâs lip. You hear someone call your name through the door, and you freeze. Who⌠how? They call your name again, this time their voice louder. They bang on the door.
You creep over to the door.
âMaâam, if you donât open this right now, Iâm quitting! We both know Alfred contacted you this morning, and heâs going to be very upset if I do so. Thereâs only so many assistants in this city!â from this close, you can recognise the voice belongs to a woman. She rattles the doorknob.
You lean down, peering through the peephole. The woman has a harsh face, a perfect pencil suit and her blonde hair in a pretty updo. Her makeup is impeccable. You get the feeling this woman is also more expensive than you can afford, despite her calling your name.
Bewildered, you open the door. She slams through like a battering ram, strutting 6-inch stilettos into the space.
She huffs, and then turns around. You can see very clearly sheâs trying to keep her calm, but you did leave her at the door for like five minutes. It wasnât your fault, you thought you were hallucinating or something.
âMaâam,â she stresses the word, âPlease unblock me.â
You blink at her, âUh, sure.â
She waits, her hands clasped together in front of her.
âOh- oh, right now?â you stutter, pulling the phone out from your noticeably lavish pyjamas.
Wait had someone changed you in your sleep? What the hell was going on? Maybe you should be more concerned about that, honestly. Still, you do as she commands.
She watches you like a hawk as you stare at the cracked phone. Your eyes flick up at her, and then back down at the screen. Slowly, watching for her reaction, you unblock âThe Wicked Witch of the West.â She nods, not even commenting on what was apparently her name in âyourâ phone.
You were still slightly concerned about the âShe wants to eat youâ thing, but she seemed⌠alright. Kind of scary. But not cannibalistic.
Still, this was Gotham after all. A healthy dose of fear was what kept people like you alive.
âMaâam, did you just wake up? Itâs already 4 oâclock,â she gives you a subtly disapproving look, and your shoulders sink like youâre being scolded.
âYeah- yeah, sorry about that,â you stammer, embarrassed for some unknowable reason. This really was just like a dream. You could tell something was very obviously wrong, but you were still going along with everything like it wasnât. Everyday life.
You were going to focus on that, this had to be just a dream. Just go along with⌠this, and then youâd wake up. And if you could manage to get over the uncanny valley-ness of the very obvious wealth surrounding you, maybe you could enjoy it.
You had always wanted to be rich. This was just your brain spewing out random information. Better than the nightmares you usually get.
Youâre abruptly pulled back into focus when the woman clears her throat loudly. Ah, shoot. Had she been talking? You definitely hadnât been listening.
âWe need to get you ready, Miss,â she says like sheâs repeating herself. You nod, because yes, of course, getting ready.
Ready for what? You think if you ask her sheâll yell at you. So when she grabs your arm and tugs you along, you follow. She pulls you into the bathroom, sitting you down in front of the mirror on a stool. Because this bathroom has stools in it. You stare at your reflection warily, before glancing up at her behind you.
âThe stylists will be here in about forty minutes, and the makeup artists in two hours,â she pauses, giving you a strange look, âI appreciate you being so cooperative today. I understand this is all a delicate matter, but I am under Mr. Wayneâs orders first and foremost.â
âWayne⌠like Bruce? Bruce Wayne?â you ask, even though thereâs really no one else it could be. Still, you have to check.
Because itâs impossible. Even if itâs a dream, it still feels completely impossible. There was just something inside you that said âthat canât be rightâ, even if you knew none of this was real.
You realise, quite late, that you donât even know this lady's name. âWicked witchâ
âYes, Maâam. Bruce Wayne of Wayne Enterprises,â she answers you, pulling out her phone and flicking through it. She doesnât even respond to what you have to assume is an inane question. Maybe âdream youâ often asks stupid questions.
âNormal youâ certainly does.
âOh⌠okayâŚâ the conversation drifts off, and she makes no attempt to fill it. Arenât P.A.s supposed to⌠you donât know, fix that? Or maybe sheâs not your personal assistant, just an assistant. Silly you, making assumptions.
This bathroom deserves assumptions. You wonder if the gold frame of the mirror is, yâknow, real.
The blonde woman walks out of the room without speaking another word to you. You think maybe you should follow her, but instead you just sit there with your hands on top of your knees. Your leg bounces up and down, and you glare it into submission, ignoring the way your muscles jump.
You look at yourself. You look⌠different. The bags under your eyes are worse than usual, and your gaze sunken into your face. Your hair is sad and oily, knotted in places. Your skin is almost waxy.
You look sick. You look like⌠you remember, you look likeâŚ
In the light of the day, you refuse to think about it. Youâre not allowed to, youâll break if you do.
You just donât. Even if your reflection just confirms that you have to be dreaming.
Instead, you turn your gaze to the tub. You raise your hand to your hair again. Back in your apartment, youâd had a shower. It was a surprisingly good shower because youâd invested in a showerhead with better pressure. Still, it wasnât a bath.
You missed bathes. You get up, close the door, lock it, and sink inside the tub. You take off your silky pyjamas inside the bath, and then you toss them on the floor beside you. Sitting there, you watch through the giant window at the world down below. At the ravens and pigeons that fly through the fog, at the few people you can see through the windows and balconies.
You press your cheek against the glass. Itâs cold. Youâre cold.
Youâre sitting in an empty bathtub naked. What are you doing?
Rubbing at your eyes, you reach over to what you think are the controls. They all look very complicated, but thereâs a switch that goes from blue to red, so you turn that. It takes another button press for the water to start flowing out. Steam fills the room, and you let out a sigh of contentment.
âMaâam! Maâam, the stylists will be here in ten minutes, and you need to get out. Maâam? Maâam!â
You shoot up in the bath, splashing water over the overflowing sides. Blinking, you turn your head back and forth and then sink back down. Oh. Youâre still here. You went to sleep, but youâre still here. Maybe itâs one of those dreams where you think you wake up, but you havenât. Or, ah, something similar.
You feel so tired. You really, really didnât miss this feeling.
Quickly, you wash your hair and body, scrubbing furiously at the oily sweat on your skin. You stumble out of the bath on shaky legs, dry yourself off, and almost trip in your haste to get out the door. Showing off your negligible intelligence, you only realise youâre still wearing just a towel till she manhandles you towards the closet.
A walk-in closet, because of course it is. You think itâs bigger than your apartment. It has a flat bench in the centre because evidently all the walking around youâll be doing will require a fainting couch.
The woman gives you, horrifyingly, a set of lacy, racy underwear. When all you do is just gape at her, she sighs, takes them from your hands and gives you a simple black set with no frills. You look down at them clasped in your wet hands. Theyâre clean, and they seem to be your size.
Still, this is a bitâŚ
âAre these⌠new?â you ask, because thereâs no tag or anything.
âYes, Maâam. But if you want, we do have some sets still unpacked at the back of the closet,â she says, going along with your weirdness. Even if she was a bit scary, you were grateful for that, at least. You guess celebrities were usually quite eccentric, so maybe this wasnât out of the ordinary for her.
âYes, please.â
She gives you a pair of Victoriaâs Secret bra and underwear, plain beige and still in their plastic packaging.
âCool, sweet, thanks,â you say, and she shakes her head just slightly.
She puts a white bathrobe down, and leaves the room, closing the door behind her. You lock it, and then you put on the underwear that you did not buy. The whole experience is strange, but still, you just go along with it. Youâre a go-along-with-it kind of person.
You were⌠you were starting to not like that all of a sudden. Still, out of your depth in an odd dream is no place to start doubting your entire personality. You put on the bathrobe too. And the fluffy slippers that are tucked under them, with great pleasure.
You hear the many voices before you open the door. When you step through it, you feel like youâve stepped onto the set of a movie. Or well, the backstage at least. Women and men are flittering about the chic apartment in the sort of rush youâd only seen working at BatBurger.
The woman from before spots you and you feel like a rabbit under a hawk's gaze when her brown eyes narrow on you. She strides over to you and then, once again, clamps her grip around your wrist and drags you over. You wonder as you stumble after her if sheâs got some meta-human in her because no slim, perfectly put-together lady should be this damn strong.
She pulls you towards a set of three people. You can immediately tell theyâre the heads of the operation, with an aura that squashes you like a pancake. Two women, one man. Theyâre all dressed to the nines, in their own unique ways.
They all look at you with assessing glances. You fear you do not measure.
âIâm surprised, Jeanine. You actually got her this time,â a woman with a black bob and a rocker look comments, her red lips twisting into a grin. You realise, with a start, that the blonde woman who was not incorrectly nicknamed âThe Wicked Witch of The Westâ was actually called Jeanine.
Lovely, you were getting the hang of things.
âYes, she was very agreeable this afternoon. Iâd like to apologise once again for any past issues,â Jeanine says, all business. You still have no idea whatâs going on, and definitely no idea what theyâre talking about. But what you assumed was the jist of it⌠was that âdream youâ wasnât a very harmonious person.
Lovely, lovely, lovely. This was a bit of a personal nightmare for a people pleaser like you. Actually, it was a literal personal nightmare. Lovely.
âThe disrespect Iâve faced is immeasurable. But, Monsoir Wayne pays exceedingly well. Still, itâs nice to actually have our dear client before us,â the other woman says, appraising her french tip nails. Which, considering she said âmonsoirâ and the whole accent, would make a lot of sense. Sheâs closer to a classic beauty than her punk rock friend, with brown hair coiled and beautiful pearls across her neck.
âI donât know, I thought Iâd be getting paid for doing no work tonight. Ruins my plans,â the man teases, and youâre relieved at the kindness in his gaze. Heâs wearing a suit with a dazzling but trendy red tie. His tie has an odd metallic sheen to it, a fabric your peasant mind couldnât place.
If Molly were here, sheâd jab you in the stomach with an elbow and whisper âOne of those homosexuals, me thinksâ even if she was bi herself.
You wish Molly were here.
âYes, well, Iâd like it if we could all work together tonight. And get to it quickly, the drive to the Wayne Tower isnât a quick one with the evening traffic, so, if youâd please.â
And that was that. No introductions, no extra pleasantries. You were swept away in a whirl of fabric and hair products.
They stuff you into a gorgeous evening gown, its colour reminding you of a sparkling midnight sky. Rhinestones dot down the sides, coalescing at the bottom. You hope theyâre not real diamonds. Gloves, a bracelet, a necklace, and dripping pearl earrings. It was all impeccably put together, and you felt uncomfortable with such items on you. You didnât dare ask how much it all cost, despite being desperately curious.
They slip towering 6-inch stilettos on you despite your protests, cake your face in enough powder to make you sneeze. Dramatic liner and eyelashes that felt heavy on your face, a lipstick that had to be coated twice because you chewed on your lip with nerves.
And then youâre done, dizzy and confused but thoroughly made up.
You get one quick look at your reflection before Jeanine is pulling you up and out of the seat.
Theyâd gotten rid of the signs.
You ignore the part of you that desperately wants them back and follow Jeanine out into the elevator.
Despite the fact that it is, in fact, a very long drive to the Wayne Tower, she does not seem inclined to say a single word to you. The ride is awkward and quiet, broken only by the sound of you pressing buttons in the back of limousine, and even that stops when you get an unimpressed look from her.
So you just sit there, vibrating at frequencies unseen by man.
When you finally arrive at Wayne Tower, the crowd shocks you. There are so many paparazzi, nearly overflowing the flimsy barricades and onto the carpeted marble entryway. The tower itself is a display of outrageous wealth, towering over the rest of Gotham City easily. You think for a while itâd been the tallest building in the world, but you couldnât remember your elementary school education all that well.
It wasnât like this information wouldâve been useful at any point in your life. You still donât think it will be, as this is all a very vivid dream.
The door opens, and immediately youâre overwhelmed by the camera flashing. You hunch away from the lights like a vampire, but Jeanine pushes you forward.
âWeâre already very late, Maâam. No time for faffing around,â she says from behind you, hand placed squarely against your back.
What? But all youâd done was rush around all afternoon! You know, if youâd just taken one of the trains or even the Skyrail youâd have been able to avoid this. Still, youâre out the door, up the steps, not given a moment to react to the questions thrown at you.
âMiss! Miss, are you here to celebrate your birthday? Donât you think itâs a bit callous to ignore the tragedies of today?â
âMiss! Is it true youâve been disowned?â
âMiss, miss, about your familyâŚ!â
Oh, well, even if what theyâre saying is awful, itâs a relief. Itâs your birthday again. You think the guy who had called you said happy birthday. That meant none of this could possibly be real. See? It had to be a dream. Had to, had to⌠You decide to ignore literally everything else they say, letting the words float through your very hollow brain.
Lifeâs a lot easier when you play it a little stupider.
The heels and the stairs are an awful combination, and if it wasnât for Jeanineâs herculean strength youâre certain youâd be tumbling down them right now. Your assistant⌠secretary⌠lady is careful not to let that happen, however.
Maybe you judged her too quickly. You appreciated anyone who made sure you didnât fall flat on your ass. It was a good quality for a person to have.
You donât get to appreciate the Wayne Tower all done up. You donât get to stare at the lights and flowers strung into the art deco rafters. You donât get to stare and gape and look like an idiot, because Jeanine wants you to look like an idiot elsewhere.
In the middle of all these fucking random rich people you donât know. Hurray!
Youâre shoved into a group of people, with Jeanine at your back. She starts rattling off names and titles and relations, and you canât make heads or tails of any of it. You turn to look at her with what must be a genuine deer-in-headlights fear, and she stops and then starts speaking slower.
Thank God for that. Well, since sheâs making an effort, you do too.
âThis is Lianne Jenkins, wife of Senator Jenkins,â Jeanine whispers into your ear, and you nod. You knew him, youâd voted for him, in fact. How the fuck were you here talking to his wife? Sheâs not looking at you, instead talking to someone beside her. She turns, and you put on the best smile you can.
The socialite physically startles when she sees your face. Great.
âOh- oh my!â her voice stutters over your name like she can barely even remember it, âI didnât know youâd be here tonight, itâs a pleasure to see you!â
It⌠it was your birthday party, right? Your name was on a giant banner at the back of the room, so you had to assume it was. Dream logic. Just- just blame it on dream logic.
âOh, look itâs Gerald! Iâm sorry my dear I really have to-â
And she just ditched you. At your birthday party. You blink at the space she just evacuated and then turn around to Jeanine. You probably give her some sort of weird Kubrick stare, and she winces. She then looks around for someone else for you to talk to. From the growing despair on her face, you can assume she doesnât find anyone.
âI donât want to be here,â you say.
âI said Iâd quit, remember?â she replies. You think sheâs lying to you. She looks about as desperate as you feel, which is a lot. You were seeing a lot of sides of âThe Wicked Witch of the Westâ today. She seemed less wicked and more generally insane. Hey, at least the two of you had something in common.
You turn away from her, eyes roving over the party. You recognise some people, because you know, theyâre all rich and famous. That guy over there was in a movie you pirated recently. The one on your right seems to be someone important in online tech spaces. You think he did NFTs or something, which made you sad because you did not want that sort of person at your birthday party. Oh, the woman on the other side of the room eating canapes is an Instagram influencer, you think. The fantasy of a Wayne party gala is fading fast, falling out of the sky like a comet of fire to bring doom and death to mankind.
You are so out of your depth.
You turn back around to Jeanine.
âI really, really donât want to be here,â you repeat, and Jeanine, shocking you, grabs your hands in hers.
âPlease stay. Just for thirty minutes, please,â she begs you, her dark eyes pleading. And because you are the living personification of a doormat, you sigh.
âAlright. But only for thirty. And Iâm getting very, very drunk.â
âThank you, thank you. Iâll be right beside you the entire time-â
You decide, oh so kindly, that you are totally ditching Jeanine, too. Spinning in your dress, you make a grand effort to get away from her, but she dogs you loyally. The goliath-like heels youâre wearing donât make it any damn well easier. Still, you donât stop trying to outrun the tiny, control freak of a woman. Because while she definitely seems to desperate to stay near you, you are also very desperate to not be near her.
Your hand itches. Randomly, it itches quite a lot. You donât know why you only notice what must be a bug bite inside the gala, but you do. Awkwardly, you scratch your palm with your other hand, staring down at the skin. It doesnât look red yet, but it honestly itâs getting kind of annoying.
You sigh again, and turn to ask Jeanine if she had any lotion or something, because you assume thatâs what stalking personal assistants are for and⌠sheâs not there. Somehow you lost her, without even noticing.
You throw your arms into the air. Yippee! Now, itâs time for alcoholism, as is the answer to all problems in life. Itâs what the loving and maternal arms of Gotham had taught you, after all.
You stumble your way to a wall where thereâs a set of food, and a server with a silver platter carrying a bunch of champagne glasses. You stop the guy before he moves again, your hands in the air like youâre trying to soothe a scared animal.
You point at the tray, âI want that.â
He looks at you with mild horror. You thought rich people were weird, like heâd be used to something like this. It wasnât like you were asking for the shirt off his back or cocaine or something. If it wasnât obvious, you really didnât know anything about what rich people did.
âItâs my birthday. Itâs totally cool. I asked Bruce myself,â You bald-faced lie, like youâd ever even met the man. Like a predator, you watch the man carefully put the tray down next to the rest of the food, and then he slowly backs away from you. Well, okay, you could admit that was kind of weird. This night is getting to you. God knows this loud-as-fuck party was more overstimulating than anything you could usually stand. And so bright. What a shitty fairytale ball.
You grab one of the flutes of champagne and swirl it, sniff it, and then once youâve gone through the polite checklist of drinking you throw it back like itâs a shot of vodka. There were people watching after all. Wait, theyâd probably seen you corner that poor server boy.
Hmm, this requires cake. You choose a random slice that looks like it might be strawberry something, and dig in eagerly. It tastes fucking fantastic. The cream is sweet and soft, and the jam has a pop of flavour you totally werenât expecting. And the cake itself was a lovely, spongy texture.
Grand. Maybe if you just sat here like a wallflower and ate food and drank liquor you could handle this. It wasnât any different from how you behaved at Mollyâs college parties.
So, you decide to work your way up and down the buffet table. Most of itâs delicious, but when you try things you canât quite recognise, thereâs a twenty-percent chance itâll be disgusting and youâll have to spit it out to avoid poisoning. Youâre careful not to try the caviar, despite your own curiosity. Youâd heard that it just tasted like salty water, and that didnât mix well with whatever you were currently putting in your stomach.
You look down at your hand. Itâs another piece of the sponge cake, wedged between a napkin so your dirty fingers didnât touch it and you didnât have to bother with another plate. You giggle, because it really is that good.
Ah, this is great. You could do this forever, screw thirty minutes. You eye the entrance the servers keep coming in and out of, and wonder if Jeanine would get mad if you tried to follow them into the kitchens. Probably, probablyâŚ
The question was, was it worth it? Youâre debating the merits when the sound of someone's shoes stops next to you. You think itâs a man, and you consider barking at him to get away from the buffet, but decide youâve tried everything and can probably share again. It takes great strength, though. You decide you deserve some more champagne for the kindness.
Itâs after a moment that you realise heâs not taking anything.
âOh, so you actually showed up? Colour me surprised,â a familiar, calm, masculine voice speaks from behind you. Your mouth drops open, and you spin on your heel. If you hadnât been clinging to the table cloth youâd have fallen over, but still, you drop the champagne flute, and it bursts in a spray of liquid and glass against your dress.
It also splatters on the dress shoes of one Tim Drake.
First the phone, now the delicious drink. You really wished youâd stop dropping things.
MASTERLIST - NEXT
#Series:WWW#yandere batfam#yandere dc#yandere batfamily#yandere batfam x reader#yandere x reader#dick grayson x reader#nightwing x reader#jason todd x reader#red hood x reader#tim drake x reader#red robin x reader#damian wayne x reader#robin x reader
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Go away even if I cry. The burning shadows of human hands are far too much for a single life. The things I see are a dread I must withstand.
Uncanny by GHOST
Happy birthday @bruhstation have a Gort tormented by visions! Your art is amazing and your Gordon makes me want to chew on cardboard. I am throwing him in the microwave and shaking it.
#rb#for me#casa tidmouth#casa tidmouth act 2#GOOD LIRD#HOOOOOLY MOLY(EXPLODES)#FSFKJFYW8576H4893#GOES HAM GOES HAM GOES HAM!!!!!!!!!!!#ahhh red. you and your gutwrenching essays#the shooting star analogy you connected with cstm gordon is so fitting good lord#can't believe his entire fate has been written even before his railway show's stage name.... HIS TIE CLIP!!!!!!#every shooting star looks so pretty and brilliant and hopeful. however give it some time and it'll burn and turn into nothing#like the tower he started off bad (struggling to climb) then got better (climbing) then got even better (reached the top)#ONLY TO FALL SO FAST (FALLING OFF THE TOWER LIKE LITERALLY)#''thomas was right to call you ''falling star'' before the race'' I BET HE FELT AWFUL NOW LMFAOOOOOO#now to the art. as you can see my eyes are pvc pipes and it's raining very heavily and its leaking everywhere#really adore how the composition makes the eyes go to the sodor rumours bulletin board first and then the big man himself#AND LIKE. THE MISSING PEOPLE POSTERS AND SHEETS AND ''TAKE ONE'' PAPAERS REALLY ACCENTUATE THE SITUATION#the rain is a nice touch too. great reference to the two-pics set I posted a long while ago featuring gordon's coat hahaha (sobs)#ED AND HEN'S HANDS. UM. YEAH I. I THINK I(PIANO FALLS ONMNE)#AND THEIR HANDS ARE COVERING MR NWR 4'S FACE#IT'S LIKE EVERYWHERE HE GOES THEY'RE THE ONLY THINGS HE CAN THINK ABOUT#the arms are brighly colored while the big man and his surroundings is bleak and muted#spoke for itself. good lord.... oh wow..... collapses#also love how ed and hen are still alive however everyone (including myself) thought they're dead or something. CAN THEY JUST BE HAPPY#don't worry big man I swear things will get better ha ha ha I swear ahhahahahhhhh#thank you so much for the birthday wish red. this image is really REALLY stellar#I cannot stop thinking about this. it's just. I have no more words.#THANK YOU SOOOO MUCH#THIS MAN GOT ISSUES!!!! STANDING OVATION!!!! ROUND OF APPLAUSE!!!!
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Fontaine Boys: Calling them by their names
Lyney
This guy pretty much made it a thing after you started using pet names that you no longer knew a Lyney, only a baby, sweetie, honey, sugar, etc. So, don't think that pulling this prank will go over his head or that he'll let you off easy for trying to tease him like this. Because Lyney? He will never forget this injustice until he can return that favor tenfold
When you say it, just as he is leaving for work/practice with Lynette, he stalls in the hallway as he tries to process what you just did to him, because surely his sweet, loving, and gorgeous lover would never stop using his pet names without a justifiable reason. This man goes through 4 stages of grief in .2 seconds and basically sprints to the nearest calendar to see the date, anniversary, or birthday he surely must've forgotten
Because, surely, he missed something, right? right?
"Love... did I forget something?" Lyney sounds so different from usual. Almost panicked really.
This can go one of two ways:
If you can keep a straight face and keep calling him Lyney he gets more and more panicked, basically begging at your feet to tell him what he did to deserve such cold, heartless, and diabolical treatment until you give and tell him its a prank
If you can't keep a straight face Lyney can see the devious little smile on your face and pretty much gawks at you in disbelief
either way it ends with him giving you a taste of your own medicine for the rest of the day. Because really, how could you do this to him right before his practice?
So if you can't handle that, don't do that to Lyney because he can be just as teasing and mean about it no matter how much he loves you, and if you keep it up through the whole day too he will continue it into the next day until you stop
or maybe he'll do something about that attitude of yours? ;)
Freminet
Are you a monster?
Genuinely why would you do this to him after all the work it took to get him to accept and also call you petnames?
Fremi thinks the world is ending tbh. He was on his way out to go diving and you just??? dropped this on him?? Are you breaking up with him?? Is he in trouble?? Please tell him it is a prank immediately or he will cry
Just like his brother he rushes to a calendar and checks every box to make sure he didn't miss anything today and for the last month or so just to be sure. And the panic that sets in when he sees that he didn't, now he's really sure you're about to say you don't love him anymore
It doesn't even matter if you can keep a straight face or not because he is in full panic mode and can't think straight enough to see that you're just pulling his leg
This poor boy is taking off his backpack and shoes and either sitting across from you or standing right in front of you with the most pitiful face asking you what's wrong
"My little marintine rose.... y/n honey....what's wrong? Did I... make you angry? Is it the diving? You can come with me, you know I love it when you come with me" Cue the biggest puppy eyes with tears
Please tell him soon that this is just a prank because again, he can and will cry if you keep this up any longer than a few minutes.
Neuvillette
He deadass walks out the door and takes a few minutes outside before he turns around and makes his way back inside calmly. Neuvillette is positive he misheard. His mind is playing tricks, or maybe he's getting old and his hearing is failing him because there is no way you just called him Neuvillette, his full government name, and not Neuvi, baby, honey, love, or something like that
He'd even accept a weird pet name like your fridge or your little hilichurl
The thing about Neuvillette is he knows he didn't forget anything. He will not rush to a calendar or even think to do so because he remembers everything you tell him, even things you say in passing. Like that dress you told him about 2 months ago, or the cute sea otter that you said reminded you of him
"Mon amour.... my love, my life, I think I forgot to tell you that I love you and that I'm leaving" He tries to play it cool, Nevi thinks if he can pretend he forgot to say anything that you'll correct yourself
When you don't, you're pretty sure you can hear thunder rumble in the distance as a storm tries to roll in
Say it's a prank right now or it'll storm for a week straight, he may be a big and tough dragon but he cannot handle this from you
If you crack and smile or start laughing Neuvi is not pleased, he's not pleased regardless when you reveal it's a prank
The storm is rolling in for different reasons now
He won't play the prank back on you but expect some long, displeased stares and some major frowns from him
You almost made his heart beat out of his chest in panic
Wriothesley
Wriothesley almost laughs when you call him by his full name and not at least a Wrio
like there is no way he doesn't know you're being a menace right now
so please be prepared for the entire next week because Wrio is ruthless when it comes to payback and he will get his just desserts
I mean really, Wrio is vicious when it comes to throwing this back in your face
"Oh hey there y/n, buddy, pal, my best friend" for a week straight...
So rude....
He will tell you upfront before he leaves for work when you do this that since he's just some guy you know now that he'll call you his friend from now on
and he will just walk right out the door after that. Not even a glance back or a teasing smirk, just leaves the house and goes to work unbothered for the rest of the day
that's what you think anyway, even though he knows this is a prank he actually is really bothered and talks to Sigwennie about what happened and he's pouting and sulking at work
even the inmates at the fortress can see that their boss is bothered by something
Please say sorry soon and start calling him his cute pet names or he's going to struggle at work and Sigwinne can't deal with this for anymore than a day because Wrio can be insufferable
#genshin impact#gi#lyney x reader#genshin impact lyney#genshin impact freminet#freminet x reader#genshin impact wriothesley#wriothesley x reader#genshin impact neuvillette#neuvillette x reader
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âwhat the fuck do you two think youre doing?â
shit, you think, you didnt notice the balcony door had been slid open until you heard the voice of one of your brothers. you start to pull away from sunaâs lips which earns you a small whine from his end, his grip tightens around you and honestly it its quite cute the way he is trying so hard to savour the moment. âcome back later, weâre kinda busy.â the boy mutters before trying to move your face away from the distraction so that he can kiss you once more.
âsuna you get your hands off of her right now, i dont give a fuck that its your birthday.â osamu pipes up, he looks furious and a little bit disgusted, if it hadnt been for the situation youre in right now you would think its kind of funny.
âsamu lay off him, it was a mutual agreement, im just as guilty as he is ok?â that does not seem to help the boys understand, if anything they seem even more angry with you both.
âwhat the fuck do you mean it was a mutual agreement? are you two hooking up or something? yn he just turned 18 a few hours ago are you forgetting that?â atsumu says, he is rambling on with every excuse he can think of as to why this is âso wrongâ, from the corner of your eye you can see suna trying so very hard to hide the grin that is creeping its way onto his face, his hands still all over you despite the fact that you arent alone anymore.
âlisten, it was his birthday wish ok? i swear it didnât mean anything,â sunas grip begins to loosen ever so slightly, âi just though it would get him off my back and get him over his little crush on me.â sunaâs facial expression shifts but you choose to ignore it, you have bigger problems to deal with at the moment.
âno this is not ok, how would you feel if me or samu kissed one of your friends because it was their birthday wish?â
âthatâs different, why would my friends want to kiss either of you?â
âexcuse me? ill have you know that many women want to kiss me! and dont think youre getting off the hook either suna, ill make sure you never-â you dont even want to hear the threat that is about to come out of his mouth, you just want to get out of this shitty situation.
âboys please, just give us five minutes to talk and then we will be back inside ok? i promise.â your efforts to plead with your brothers finally work.
ââŚfine,â atsumu mumbles, âbut this better be a one time thing. im not gonna deal with you two being all lovey dovey around me.â and with that he lightly tugs on osamuâs sleeve, signalling him to walk back inside and continue the party. he closes the balcony door but not before bringing two fingers up to his eyes and then pointing them at the two of you. its a warning.
you turn back to suna and notice the sad look on his face - he looks kinda cute like this, âso, what do-â.
âdid you really mean what you just said to them?â the poor boy looks heartbroken, after waiting three years to finally have a chance with the girl he loves wants the moment is ruined like that? âdid you actually just do that so i would leave you alone?â his hands fully leave your body now and he takes a step back to put some distance between you two.
âwell i mean sort of yeah⌠ive never looked at you in any way other than my brothers best friend if im going to be honest, i dont know if thats because of the age difference or what but ive never thought we could be anything.â the look of hurt is prominent on his face no matter how hard he tries to hide it, normally playful banter would have been thrown back and forth between the two of you but rintarou just stays silent, an indication that youve fucked up.
âlisten suna i dont know what you want me to say, i wasnt really thinking when i said that to atsumu it just came out. i am 4 years older than you and many people would not approve of us if i decided to give you a chance.â
âwho cares? i could treat you so right if you would just let me. i have waited entirely too long for this moment, all im asking for is one date.â
âyou said that about the kiss too, one thing is never enough with you is it? you always need more.â a playful smile creeps onto your face which is outshined by the one on sunas, he knows that your smile means that you agree to go on a date with him.
âi really hope you arent fucking with me right now, that would be so cruel, especially on my birthday.â
âoh give the birthday excuse a rest now will you? you dont need to keep on at me you have already got what you want.â
âmhm i absolutely have,â he walks closer and once again wraps his arms around you, placing a hand under your jawbone to make you look up at him, âand i couldnt be happier.â he states as he pulls you in for a passionate kiss once more <3
#ignore it took me over a year to post part two please and thanks#haikyuu#hq x you#haikyuu!!#hq imagines#lav.postsâĄ#haikyuu suna#suna x reader#suna rintaro#haikyuu x reader#hq suna#suna rintarĹ#suna rintaro x you#haikyuu imagines#suna x you#haikyuu fluff#suna rintaro haikyuu#suna rintaro imagine#suna rintaro x reader#suna fluff#suna rintarou#suna x y/n#suna rintarou fluff#suna rintaro x y/n#suna rintaro fluff#suna rinatro#suna headcanons#suna hcs#suna rintaro fic#haikyuu drabbles
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đ¨đŚđľ đ¤đŠđ˘đŻđ¨đŚđĽ - đđ˘đľđľ đđľđśđłđŻđŞđ°đđ°
summary: you walk downstairs, wearing a skimpy minidress for your friends party, matt doesn't let you go.
contains: smut, dom!matt, argument, yelling, overprotective!matt.
-------------------â˘ââ˘ââ˘â
â˘ââ˘ââ˘-------------------
i pull up the straps of my white minidress, its my best friend, lexi's, 19th birthday. i check myself out of the mirror before walking out of me and matt's shared bedroom.
my high heels click on the stairs as matt looks up at me, his eyebrows furrowing.
"where are you going?' he asks, manspreading on the couch.
"just lexi's house, its her 19th." i say chirpily, grabbing my purse.
"is it only gonna be you and her?" matt questions before standing up off the couch, walking over to me casually.
i scoff, "no? theres gonna be a few hundred people, im excited!"
"go get changed." matt says sternly, looking me up and down. i instantly roll my eyes "why should i matthew."
matt raises his eyebrows, "you're wearing half a fucking dress, i think you're forgetting you have a boyfriend?" he says, pointing to himself.
"matt." i groan, applying a coat of lipgloss before unlocking the front door.
"its thin, i can see your fucking tits clearly." matt says, stuttering slightly. "why are ya looking?" i tease, putting my gloss in my back before walking out onto the front porch.
"y/n. i'm serious." matt says, raising his voice slightly as he grabs my wrist with a firm, but not painful grip.
"just cause you're jealous doesn't mean im changing!" i yell, turning around to face him.
matt takes a step back, his eyes widening.
"don't be stupid." matt says before pulling me inside and shutting the door. "go, look at what your wearing in the mirror sweetheart."
i try to pull away from his grip, but he doesn't let me go. "fuck off of me matt, i'm going whether you like it or not!"
matt shakes his head, "no you're not. you're being a brat and you look like a slut wearing for that."
my jaw goes slack before i start "but matt!-" im cut off by his finger on my lips. "you're not going baby."
"fine!" i yell, dropping my purse and kicking my heels off, one of them hitting his shins.
"dont be snappy." matt says, letting my wrist go as i stomp upstairs.
"fuckin' tantrum." i hear matt mumble under his breath before he flops down on the couch.
-
itâs not even been 4 minutes before mattâs knocking on the door to our bedroom, iâm laying on the bed wearing panties and a shirt, i mean after all matt did tell me to change?
matt comes in before sitting on the end of the bed.
âwhat do you want.â i say in a huff, folding my arms.
âi want you to realise everything i do is for your own sake.â matt says in a âknow it allâ tone.
i stay silent, my lips pouting.
âyou understand?â he says, putting a hand on my thigh.
i nod.
âmhm.â he mumbles before standing up off the bed and walking over to me, still laying in the same position on the bed.
âyouâre gonna loose that fucking attitude.â matt says, clearly irritated.
i roll my eyes, matt tugs down my white lacy panties, discarding them across the room.
âmattt!!â i yell, closing my eyes.
âgonna dress like a slut youâre gonna be fucked like a slut, got it?â matt says harshly as he pulls my arms up, lifting my shirt off.
i nod nervously as matt flips me over onto all fours before pulling on my ankles, yanking me to the edge of the bed.
âlook to your side.â matt demands, i comply, looking at myself in the mirror beside our bed.
âmatt..â i mumble as he pulls down his sweatpants to his mid-thigh. his erections springing straight out, hitting his stomach.
âarms behind your back.â matt says, pulling my arms and holding them behind my back.
he slams into me full force, i let out a loud scream, biting the silk sheets.
i hear matt chuckle as he slams into me at an unheard of pace. âfuck fuck fuck!â i shout, squirming my arms which are pinned in place from one of his hands.
âthis is what happens when you want to have such a big ego.â matt says in between thrusts.
my legs shake as he pushes my back down, forcing me to arch even more. âtaking me well arenât you.â he mumbles as his thrusts become more frantic.
âkeep looking at yourself.â matt says, using his spare hand to tilt my head back to the side.
i feel myself clench around him, orgasming with a scream of his name, matt keeps thrusting, overstimulating me.
he quickly pulls out of me, painting my back with white streaks.
my mouth is agape with shock as matt rubs my thigh âoh my god stay still.â
he grabs the white mini dress of the floor before using it to wipe my back clean. âyou okay..?â matt says, worry in his voice before handing me the dress
âyou can go to the party..â matt says, pulling the dress onto me.
âwhat..?â i mumble in a dazed tone.
âyouâll be to sensitive for anyone to fuck you even if you wanted to..â matt says innocently.
ââââââââââââââââââââââââââ-
i wrote this in the shower đđ
#chris sturniolo#matt sturniolo#nick sturniolo#sturniolo#sturniolo triplets#sturniolo smut#matt sturniolo x reader#sturniolo x reader#chris sturniolo x reader#sturniolo fanfic
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