#The fact that he invited me to come at all also says a lot I think
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Beach Daddy III. I can do it with a broken heart
Rich daddy!Joel x F!reader
Series Masterlist • Masterlist
Wordcount: 12,532
Summary: After a day of emotional turmoil, you find solace in a chance encounter with Joel, who invites you to his secret deck.
Warnings: 18+, Joel and reader get closer, Todd does fuckboy things, reader really goes through it in this one, it's like a lil baby soap opera up in here for everyone.
Notes: Welcome, welcome, dear friends. Sorry this is so long. I never know where to end the chapters 😂 so I just add more. Your comments, asks, and reblogs are always so welcome! I appreciate everyone who's in this with me.
You walk out of Amorebelle with light pink clothing bags weighing down each arm, wearing a new outfit. You can't remember a time when you've gotten this many new clothes at once. You also find it hard to wrap your head around the fact that these clothes cost more than you make in an entire year.
The saleswomen Jane and McKenzie won't let you look at the price tags, but as they're ringing up your picks, you catch a glimpse of the total on the computer screen. You can't help but wonder how you'll ever be able to pay Joel back for this shopping trip.
You also can't help but wonder how often he does this for women.
Jane, who's worked at the shop the longest, had recognized him when you walked in the door. You don't have time to contemplate this because you notice a maid you recognize from the yacht. She makes her way to you and starts relieving you of your bags. You make sure to keep the bag with your dress and shoes for the evening.
"Miss, I was told to take these to your room on the ship while you are at your appointment," the maid tells you.
"What appointment?" you ask her, confused.
"You have an appointment at the salon three stores up.”
"Did Joel set this up for me?" you ask, feeling even more surprised.
"Yes, ma'am," the maid says with a smile.
You're glad that the boutique you've been shopping in has a shower where you're able to rinse off before this appointment. They must be used to sandy beachgoers coming in right before a night out.
You make your way up the street and stop at the salon with floor-to-ceiling glass windows. From the outside, you can see the row of chairs, each in front of its own mirror.
You walk in, and the man at the front desk assures you that you do, in fact, have an appointment, full hair, and makeup, which is all prepaid.
The receptionist walks you back to your stylist, an attractive man whose hair color matches yours. "What do you have in mind today, sweetheart," your stylist asks you.
"I'm honestly not sure. Can I leave it up to you?" you ask.
"That's my favorite request," he says as he runs his fingers through your hair. "Your natural coloring is gorgeous, obviously, I am not going to touch that. So, I'm thinking a quick trim and a blowout."
He has your hair and makeup done within an hour, and you barely recognize yourself in the mirror. You're amazed that your hair is perfectly smooth, with not a single strand of frizz to be found. You gently run your fingers through your hair and can't believe how soft it is.
"What do you think?" the stylist asks you. He hands you a small mirror and turns you in the chair so you can get a better view of the back of your hair.
"Is this really my hair?" you ask, holding up the smaller mirror.
"Of course, sweetheart. You look amazing," he says with a smile.
"I didn't know I could love my hair this much.” You admit.
"So, go enjoy it!" he says with a huge smile.
"I will. I love it. Thank you so much," you say enthusiastically.
You walk out of the salon's front door in your midnight blue silk dress with shining hair, and you feel amazing. For the first time since the breakup, you feel like you can do a whole lot better than Todd.
"All I can say is wow," says Joel. He's been waiting for you outside of the salon.
"I hardly recognize myself," you say with a laugh.
"I wasn't commenting on the dress or your hair. I was impressed by your confidence. It looks good on you darlin," Joel says, looking you up and down unabashedly.
You feel your cheeks get hot. You don't understand how Joel always says exactly what you need to hear.
"But, I do have to admit I was right about that dress; it does look amazing on you," Joel says with a wink.
"I don't know how to thank you–" but Joel cuts you off before you can finish thanking him.
"Please, you don't need to finish what you were about to say. You deserved it. Simple as that."
"Okay," you say with a smile. "Well, then I just want you to know that today has been the best day I have had in a long time." You like that Joel isn't the kind of man who gives gifts because he likes the praise that follows.
"The restaurant is just a few blocks over. I can call for a ride," he says, pulling out his phone.
"Yeah, we could get a ride over," you say and grab his phone. "But, it's such a beautiful night; why don't we walk?" It is a beautiful night, but if you're being honest with yourself, you want to walk to soak up as much time alone with Joel as you can.
Joel smiles and offers you his arm. You notice his new suit jacket goes perfectly with your new dress. You bite your lip to keep yourself from asking if he picked it on purpose, but you secretly hope he had.
"This town is beautiful; I'm surprised that it isn't busier," you say, looking up at the bistro lights strung across the streets in a zig-zag pattern. The light is just barely fading, and the cool breeze catches the slit in your dress, making the end lightly flutter around your ankles as you walk.
"It is a well-kept secret," Joel says.
"For the rich and famous?" you ask.
"Well, kinda, but the locals who live here are what make this place so amazing. The restaurant we’re headed to has some of the best food I've ever eaten. But the chef is just a local man who perfected his art form. Never went to culinary school; just cooked because he loved it."
"How do you know all that about him?" you ask.
"My family has vacationed here for as long as I can remember. When I got tired of listening to my parents argue, I would go exploring the island. I’ve gotten to know a lot of the locals over the years," he explains.
You walk up to a building with a large illuminated sign reading The Coastal Hibiscus. The restaurant has a large deck area with a perfect view of the ocean. As you make your way up the front steps, you drop your hand from Joel's arm, not wanting Sarah to get the wrong idea.
You arrive at the restaurant last, finding the entire party already seated. As you enter, the conversation slows, and Todd's gaze locks onto you, a sense of satisfaction washing over you from the look on his face.
Only two seats remain, so you sit between Alison and Hudson. Joel takes a seat directly across from you, next to his daughter.
"I love that dress on you, by the way." Alison says with a little smile.
"Thanks," you reply as the waiter distributes menus.
"Where did you take off to? I haven't seen you since you went with Sarah's dad to find the dolphins," Alison asks.
"Oh, we never found them, so we just drove around for a long time looking for them," you lie, staring intently at the menu. You don't want to share the details of the intimate day you spent with Joel.
"That's too bad," Alison says, joining the group's conversation about where everyone plans to 'winter' that year.
You continue to look at your menu, overwhelmed by the number of choices. Finally, you look up to see Joel staring at you. You silently mouth 'What should I get?' across the table.
He smiles at you and mouths back 'The lobster.'
When the food arrives, you're grateful for his suggestion. His choice is amazing; the lobster is cooked so well that it feels like it melts in your mouth.
You sit peacefully sipping a glass of wine and listening to the group's conversation, stealing glances at Joel. The waiter brings around dessert menus, and you order a slice of cheesecake, one of your favorites.
A few minutes later, the waiter sets a piece of cheesecake in front of you, and placed delicately in the whipped cream is a stunning cushion cut diamond engagement ring. Your breath catches in your throat, and your heart stops. As you try to make sense of what's happening, you hear Todd whisper angrily to the waiter, "No, not her!"
No one seems to notice the mix-up, and a few seconds later, the engagement ring cheesecake is placed in front of Sarah instead. Her small squeak alerts the rest of the table to what's going on.
"Sarah, will you make me the luckiest man in the world? Will you marry me," Todd says, down on one knee next to Sarah.
"Of course, I will." Sarah immediately answers. She jumps up and hugs Todd, all the while letting out ear-piercing squeals.
You look across the table and see Joel's eyes locked on you. Did he see them place the ring in front of you and your reaction to it?
The restaurant feels like it's closing in around you. You have to get out. You quietly slide your chair away from the table, leaving your ringless cheesecake untouched, and walk out into the open air. You start walking toward the ocean; the water has turned from a vibrant blue to an ominous black. The glassy surface reflects the light of the moon, which sits alone in the sea of darkness.
You continue walking, your feet aching in the heels, but to your relief, you recognize the yacht docked in a nearby marina. The crew must have sailed over to this marina to drop off the rest of the group while Joel and you were in the shops. So you make your way towards it. However, even before you reach the docks, the tears have already started falling down your face. You wipe them away quickly, not wanting to stain your new dress. The sound of footsteps behind you has you hurrying to the yacht. Whoever is following you, you do not want to speak to them–not now.
Not even if it's Joel.
—
"Todd, I'm so glad we finally get to spend some time together. It seems like I barely get to see you anymore. I'm so sorry I've been so busy," you said, smiling at your fantastic boyfriend. You really missed him, but with graduation so close, you had to put all of your efforts into studying.
"I'm glad you finally found some time for me," Todd said in a flat tone. You guessed you deserved that, but the comment still stung.
"Where do you want to go eat? I heard there’s a great new sushi place just a few blocks over," you said, trying to switch the mood to a more positive one.
"Yeah, that works," Todd muttered as he pulled out his phone to send a text.
You started walking over, but you couldn't help but feel like something was off, and you relaxed as Todd's fingers locked with yours.
"So, how’s work going?" you asked. Todd had graduated with his Bachelor's degree the year before and started working for his dad's financial firm after that.
"It's been great. You would not believe some of the people I help with their investments. Every single one of them was a millionaire before they were thirty. That is going to be me; just you wait."
"I know you will be, Todd," you said as the hostess showed you to your table. "If anyone can make it happen, you will."
"It wouldn't hurt to have a rich wife. Then, we'd become millionaires together," Todd said and smiled at you. He had always been so proud of the fact that you were working towards being a lawyer. You were so relieved that he recognized your time studying was for your future together.
The waiter walked over to your table and asked if you were ready to order. Todd ordered multiple plates of sushi, and then the waiter turned to you.
"I'll have an order of the California rolls and a water," you handed the menu back to the waiter and looked up to see Todd with a strange expression on his face.
"California rolls?" Todd asked as the waiter walked away.
"It's the best deal on the menu. I'm saving for my books. I don't know if I’ll be able to qualify for another loan," you said, slightly defensive. You knew Todd hated how cheap you were, but you had to be if you were going to be able to afford to put yourself through school. You knew he didn't understand; his dad paid for his education.
Todd pulled out his phone again and sent another text. You tried not to let it bother you; it was probably something for work.
You spent the rest of dinner talking about the different investments Todd was making on others' behalf and how one of his clients had just purchased their first private island.
"I'm going to run to the restroom before we head out," Todd said and got up, not realizing he had left his phone sitting face up on the table.
As soon as he walked away, his screen lit up with a text message. All you could see from where you sat was the contact name, 'Her.' Your heart sank.
The screen went black, and you took a deep breath. Todd walked back from the restroom, smiling at you.
"You ready to go?" he asked you as he made it to your table.
"Absolutely."
"Why don't we catch a movie?" Todd asked, grabbing your hand again as you walked out of the restaurant.
"Sure. What do you want to go see?”
—
You slam the door of your room and rest your back against it, catching your breath. You had to get away from whoever was following you out of the restaurant. You can't face anyone after witnessing Todd's engagement to someone else. You take a few minutes to catch your breath, and when a soft knock on the door vibrates your back, you ignore it. The person doesn't knock again.
Your dress clings to your sweaty body, and you want nothing more than to take it off. You slip off the midnight blue silk gown and drape it over the chair in front of the vanity. Noticing the pink garment bags already hung neatly in your closet, you secretly wish that you fit in this world, this world of money. But you know deep down that you don't.
You walk past all of the new clothes and throw back on your usual attire of shorts and a T-shirt; you can't get comfortable in the fancy clothes. You make your way over to your bed and throw yourself on the comforter. Burying your face in the pillow and let the tears come. You cry until your eyes burn. You sit up in bed and wonder where everything went wrong with Todd and you. You had truly been in love with him. You had planned a future together, and even though he never spoke directly of marrying you, you always assumed it would happen one day. So when the waiter placed his engagement ring in front of you perched on a pillow of whipped cream, it hurt even more.
Your roommate had been suspicious of Todd cheating on you for months before you read that text. You went on pretending your relationship was stable, even though deep down, you suspected him, too, especially after the incident at the sushi restaurant.
You didn't confront him about the text until weeks later. He denied everything at first, saying it was his father's receptionist. She was a bitter older woman who was not the kind of woman you wanted to cross. He put the receptionist in his phone as 'her' as a joke.
You knew he was lying, but you were okay to keep on pretending. That was until you caught him texting 'her' again, right in front of you. Then, you exploded, and you got into your worst fight. He finally came clean that it was a woman he met at your birthday party.
He swore he wasn't cheating and that she was just a friend. You promised that you would work it out even if he was cheating on you, but he wasn't interested in that. He was no longer interested in you. He broke up with you the very next day.
With the memories replaying in your mind, you jump out of bed and run to the balcony. You breathe in quick gasps of the cold sea air. You just realized that you had invited Sarah to your birthday party. Todd had met her there, and they had been in contact ever since. Sarah told you that she'd been dating Todd for four months, but your birthday party was eight months ago. So Todd had been pursuing Sarah for eight months while he was still pretending to be faithful to you.
'It wouldn't hurt to have a rich wife; then we'd become millionaires together.' Todd's words ring through your memories. He hadn't been talking about you becoming a lawyer and the two of you becoming wealthy together. He had been talking about marrying Sarah, an heiress. This had been his plan all along.
This night of realization has your head hammering, and you need to calm down. So you walk back into your room, slip on your shoes, and walk out your door. You’re going to go out to the bar on the deck and make yourself a drink. The lights on the deck are already out, but you quickly realize you’re not there alone.
"Oh, Todd!" Sarah moans.
"You are so damn sexy!"
Two shadowy figures are pressed together in the pool, waves rippling around them, and you quickly realize you have just interrupted Sarah and Todd's after-engagement celebration. You immediately freeze on the spot.
Their moans grow louder, and you try to retreat before either of them sees you. Unfortunately, you don't notice the lounge chair behind you in the dark and topple over it in your rush to get away. You land flat on your back, and all the air is knocked out of your lungs.
"What the hell? Who's there?" Todd's voice yells behind you.
You pray it’s too dark for them to see or recognize you. Then, you start crawling back towards the door, and as soon as you think you are out of sight, you stand up quickly and run. Once you get through the door, you keep running down the hall, the tears stinging your eyes. You are humiliated, heartbroken, and defeated.
You get to a set of stairs and immediately start climbing as many floors as you can. You have to get as far away from the pool as possible. It’s bad enough knowing Todd is sleeping with Sarah, possibly for eight months, but to see it first hand is too much.
You end up in front of an elevator, and just as you stop to catch your breath, the doors slide open.
"Hey darlin? Are you okay?"
It's Joel. All you want to do is to run into his arms and feel his warmth surround you. But instead, you simply nod and turn to walk away. How could you possibly explain what you just witnessed? Sarah is still his daughter.
"I don't believe you. Somethin’ is wrong. I came to check on you earlier.”
—
Joel hands you a glass of red wine, and you follow him out onto his private deck. The elevator has led up to his room, and Joel, noticing your state, invites you up.
You lean over the railing and swirl the wine in the glass.
"Do you want to talk about what happened?" Joel asks with a note of concern in his voice.
"Nothing happened; I was just tired," you reply.
"You were so tired that you ran all the way back to the yacht?" Joel asks, clearly not believing you.
You don't say anything and take a small sip of your wine.
"And in the hallway just now? You seemed pretty upset," Joel says.
"I promise, I'm fine, but thank you," you say, trying to muster up a small smile.
Joel does not look convinced, but he lets the topic go. You both stand looking over the ocean for a long time in complete silence. The yacht has left the small island, and so the waves are bubbling lazily behind the propellers.
"When do we make port again?" you ask, finally breaking the silence.
"Tomorrow," Joel replies.
"I’m gonna miss you, Joel," you say quietly.
"What are you talking about, darlin?" Joel says as his eyebrows knit together in concern.
"I'm going to catch a flight back to New York tomorrow.”
Joel stares at you for a long time after saying that you’ll be leaving when you get to port the next day. Or at least you hope you will be. You don't even know where you will be, let alone if there is an airport or a ticket home you can afford.
"I would really hate to see you go, darlin," Joel says with a serious look on his face.
"I think it's for the best," you answer softly.
"The best for you?" he asks. You stay quiet for a long time. Are you deciding what is best for you and/or running from your problems?
"I don't know… " you answer truthfully.
You take another small sip of the wine Joel had poured you and watch the liquid as you swirl it around in your glass.
"You know wine always tastes better in the sauna," Joel says, watching you.
You turn to him, "That does sound nice, but I’m sure the staff who work the spa have already gone to bed."
"Well, good thing the sauna is in my bathroom," he says as the corners of his mouth ease into a smile.
"You have a sauna in your bathroom?" you ask, impressed.
"Of course, so what do you say?"
"I'm not really dressed for a sauna," you gesture down to your shorts and T-shirt.
"I have a robe that you can borrow unless you'd rather go without." Joel winks and starts walking away to grab the robe.
"So what else do you have up here all to yourself?" you ask, liking the distraction from the mess of a night you've been through.
—
You walk through a large sitting room, a bedroom with the biggest bed you've ever seen, and then finally to the bathroom. Joel calling the tub in his bathroom a soaking tub is an understatement; it's more like a small swimming pool sunken in the middle of the floor.
"You can get changed here." Joel leads you into an extravagant walk-in closet, complete with a large vanity table and chaise lounge. He hangs a white cotton robe on a hook next to the door, making it the only garment in the empty closet. You realize Joel's room must include his and her's closets, but Joel has no use for this one.
You undress down to nothing and slip the buttery soft robe over your skin. You could live in this robe. There are definitely some amazing perks to being rich. You walk out of the closet, and Joel is waiting for you in a matching cotton robe.
"See, it's a perfect fit," he says.
"I don't even want to know how much one of these robes costs," you say.
Joel laughs a little at your comment. "The sauna is through this door here," Joel says and pushes the door next to him open, holding it for you to enter first.
You don't know what you've been expecting when Joel had said he had a sauna in his bathroom, but the sauna you walk into is more than you could have ever imagined.
Every inch of the room is covered in light wood. The benches look as though they conform perfectly to your body and are accented with white pillows. The steam is warm and envelops you as soon as you walk into the room. However, the most breathtaking part of the sauna is the floor-to-ceiling window. It makes it feel like the sauna is open to the ocean itself, and the dark water reflecting the dim light of the room is extremely romantic.
"How do you ever leave?" you ask after a few speechless seconds.
Joel laughs again and takes a seat in the center of the bench, staring out into the dark water. You sit next to him and realize you might be too close, so you try to scoot away subtly.
"I don't bite, darlin."
You laugh awkwardly but remain close enough to feel the heat of his body next to yours. You close your eyes and try to let go of the evening. You think about watching the dolphins swimming in the cove while Joel sits next to you on the jet ski.
"You look like you're feeling a little better," Joel whispers.
"I am. This is exactly what I needed." You pause for a few seconds and add, "You keep saving me today."
"You've saved me on this trip too. Can I tell you a secret?" he asks, leaning in closer to you.
"Of course," you answer, and your heart starts beating faster.
"The rest of Sarah's friends drive me insane."
"That's your secret?" you bump his shoulder with yours. "That’s a really weak secret. They drive me insane too."
"If that’s not a secret, then tell me a better one," he says.
"What kind of secret?"
"Tell me why you’re leaving tomorrow?" he asks and looks into your eyes.
You pause, considering if you should tell him the truth, but he is getting Todd as a son-in-law. So you choose a different path.
"I can't afford to stay," you say finally. Taking Joel's silence as confusion, you elaborate, "I'm completely broke. I've put all of my money into school. I work as a bartender and live off of my tips and ramen noodles."
"I'm sorry, but I don't understand why that means you need to leave tomorrow," Joel says somberly.
That’s a fair point; Sarah and her father have paid for absolutely everything. It isn't costing you anything to stay on this once-in-a-lifetime vacation. You need to come up with a reason to leave before he sees through the holes in your story.
"I have to get back to New York, get ready to move to Cambridge, and find a job there before the semester starts. I only have a few weeks of living costs saved up." This is partly true; you do need to do all of those things, but going back early would actually complicate things for you. You can't move into your new apartment in Cambridge until two weeks before the semester starts. So going back early would just mean you'd sit in your old apartment with nothing to do. Plus, if you went back early, you would have a few more weeks of expenses to take care of, and you already quit your job.
"What if I could help you find a new position in Cambridge?" Joel asks.
"What do you mean?" you ask, surprised.
"I have some connections in Cambridge; if I helped you get a few interviews, would you be able to stay longer?"
You can't find any words to respond. You've been really worried about what you would do for work when you got to Cambridge. You don't know anyone there and planned on spending the two weeks before the semester handing in resumes at different restaurants.
"You would do that for me?" you ask.
"Absolutely. I’ll make some calls in the morning. You don't have to stay, but I would enjoy your company if you did. The Bahamas are beautiful this time of year. I don't want you to miss it."
"Okay, I'll stay," you say quietly. "Thank you, Joel."
You can't believe this man's kindness to you. If it's important to Joel that you stay on the trip, then you will figure out how to deal with Todd and Sarah for a little while longer.
"I'm glad to hear it," he says with a smile.
The sky starts to lighten in the early morning hours, so you stand and tell him, "I should head back down to my own room and get some rest."
"Probably a good idea," he says and follows you out of the sauna.
You go back into the massive closet and change back into your clothes, hanging the robe back on the hook. You walk back out into the main room, and Joel is waiting for you, still in his robe.
"Let me walk you down."
"That's really okay. You’ve done so much for me already," you say.
"How long will you stay?"
"I'm not sure. At least another week." You smile at Joel and walk out the door.
***
Joel shuts the door behind you as you walk down the hall. He's relieved that he convinced you to stay for at least another week, but he knows there's something else that's the real cause for you being so upset tonight.
He knows that you're not part of Sarah's usual friend group, but after talking to you tonight, he's confused about how you're even friends at all. You clearly have big goals and work hard to see them happen. Sarah doesn't have any goals other than becoming an 'influencer.'
The thought of you working at every spare moment to put yourself through school makes his stomach twist at how badly he's spoiled Sarah. You deserve so much better than to be just scraping by. He would do anything he could to help you find something better. Hell, he would have offered to pay for your tuition, too, if he thought you would accept it.
Joel pulls out his phone and sends an email to the connection he has at a law firm in Cambridge. He's done some business with them in the past and figures it would be a much better fit for you than making people drinks. With how much business he's given the firm, he knows he can at least get you an interview.
On his home screen, there's a notification of a phone call from his financial advisor, Alester, that he missed while he was in the sauna with you. Alester never calls at this hour, so he knows something is wrong. Joel calls him back immediately, waiting impatiently to hear his voice on the other end.
“Joel, I am so sorry for the early hour," Alester says.
“No need to apologize; what's going on?" He asks urgently.
“I am afraid it is not good news.”
“Just tell me, Alester," he says, doing his best not to get impatient with the man. He's worked for Joel for years, and Joel trusts him with his life. There's an infuriatingly long pause on Alester's end. He sighs before he finally responds. “Blaine is back, sir."
***
The sun is streaming through the glass doors of the balcony as you finally open your eyes. Your head is pounding from a lack of sleep and caffeine. You want to order coffee up to your room, but you need to shower too badly to wait. After running all the way to the yacht and then sitting in the sauna with Joel, you are salty with dried sweat. You probably should have showered last night, but, after reaching your room in the early morning hours, you collapsed on the bed and had fallen asleep in your clothes.
You walk into the bathroom, expecting to look like a mess from all the events of the night, your clothes are extremely wrinkled, but you are surprised to see your hair still looks flawless. "I wish I could afford to get a blowout more often," you say to your reflection, pulling on a few strands as you admire the style.
You put your hair up and step into the hot water of the shower, washing off the previous day. You stand under the steaming water until you are getting a little dizzy from the heat. As you stand there, you can't help but think about Joel. He's been so kind to you, and you can't help but wonder if there's a chance he wants more from your relationship than what one would typically expect between a man and a friend of his daughter's. You shake your head. You can't allow yourself to think that way. Joel lives in a world you know nothing about. Not only is he much older than you, he is also Sarah's dad. Besides, he can have any woman he wants. Why would he want you?
Returning your thoughts to reality, you finish rinsing your hair and turn off the water. You wrap a towel around yourself, and make your way back into the bedroom to cool down.
The screen of your phone is illuminated, so you pick it up and lounge back on the bed. You have several notifications from the group chat between you and your roommates, Aubrey and Lin. You know you need to let them know what's going on.
Aubrey: Hey? Are you still alive? We haven't heard from you in days.
Lin: Maybe she finally found herself a rebound, and that’s why she’s too busy for us. My guess is a sexy pool boy!
You: Sorry, you two. Signal has been spotty. A sexy pool boy, Lin? Is that your guess or your fantasy?
Lin: I think a sexy pool boy should be everyone’s fantasy. ‘Pool boy, refresh my drink, and while you are at it, come rub me down with some tanning lotion.’
Aubrey: Lin, you’re the reason I can’t let Gianni read our group messages!
Lin: Sorry, we aren’t as lucky as you to have an amazing boyfriend who kisses the ground we walk on. Some of us have to use our imaginations.
You: I miss you two so much! I wish you were here with me.
Aubrey: How is everything going? Is the boat as big as we are imagining?
You: Honestly, it is probably bigger than you’re imagining. It’s not so much a boat as it is a super yacht. The bathroom in my room is as big as our entire apartment, and I’m just in a guest room. I have my own private balcony! Oh, and yesterday, I got to see a pod of dolphins!
Lin: Dolphins? How cool! I wish I had a rich friend who took me on expensive vacations.
You: Yeah, it sounds good in theory, but in reality, that rich friend was the one sleeping with my boyfriend for months.
Aubrey: Sarah was the one Todd was cheating on you with?! Why didn’t you lead with that?
You: Oh, that’s not even the worst part. Todd is here on the yacht too. We had already left port when I found out, so I’ve been stuck here with him.
Lin: No way! What the hell did that scumbag have to say for himself when he saw you?
You: Well, he pretended not to know who I am, and I went along with it.
Aubrey: I’m so sorry!
Lin: Why didn’t you call him out?
You: I probably should have, but I didn’t want to make things awkward. Like I said before, I am literally stuck on a boat with these people. Plus, Sarah clearly doesn’t know. I didn’t want to hurt her.
Aubrey: That makes sense. Maybe she will dump him before things get too serious.
You: Oh, one more thing, they got engaged at dinner last night. I had a front row seat for the entire thing. And then their after party.
Aubrey: Are you okay? Do you need me to come get you? I don’t know exactly how I would find you, but you know I would figure it out.
You: Thanks Aubrey, but I’m okay.
Lin: Shit, this is really messed up. What do you mean by ‘you had a front row seat to their after party?’
You: I walked out to the pool deck and caught them having sex in the pool. Then I tripped over a deck chair trying to get out of there.
Lin: Did they catch you?
You: I still don’t know. I really hope not. I don’t know how I would show my face in front of either of them again if they did.
Aubrey: How did Todd even meet Sarah? It’s not like your social circles mix very well.
You: I was thinking about that a lot last night. I am pretty sure that they met at my birthday party.
Lin: So you're telling me when we were all celebrating you, Todd was off hitting on someone else?
You: Pretty much. I’m realizing a lot about who Todd really is. I think his whole plan was to find someone rich. I was thinking about it last night. I remember that towards the end of our relationship, he made lots of comments about how poor I am.
Aubrey: You’re not poor! You’re a college student just trying to make it through school.
Lin: Isn’t Sarah the one who dropped out sophomore year to become an influencer?
You: Yes, that is Sarah. She does actually have a big social media following. And as you both know, she comes from a lot of money.
Lin: Well, that’s pretty easy when you can buy whatever you want and post pictures of yourself on your dad’s billion dollar yacht.
Aubrey: So how long until you get back?
You: I think I’m staying another week. We’re sailing to the Bahamas. I was told that we will make port tonight.
Lin: Well, that sounds amazing. Do you know what you’re going to be doing?
You: I’m not sure yet. I’ll have to ask Joel what has been planned.
Lin: Oh, who is Joel?
You: Joel is just a friend.
Aubrey: I’m glad to hear at least you’re making friends. Then you have a way to escape from Sarah and Todd.
Lin: Me too. Any pool boys?
You: Haha Lin! Very funny. No, I have not made friends with any of the pool boys.
Lin: Well, maybe you should. There is no better way to get over someone than getting under someone.
Aubrey: I hate to say it, but I agree with Lin. Go get some! There have to be some island hotties at one of your stops.
You: I can’t believe you two. I have to go. Someone is knocking at my door. I miss you two so much!
Chuckling at the antics of your two best friends, you set your phone down on the bedside table, smiling to yourself. It's good to know that you have at least two friends you can count on for anything.
You wrap your towel tight around you and check the peephole in the door, relieved to see a maid at your door and not someone else since you're not even dressed yet. You open the door and are surprised to see she's holding a tray and a box in her arms.
"Good morning, Miss," the maid says with a friendly smile on her face.
Confused, you return her smile but look suspiciously at the items she's holding. "Good morning. I think there may have been a mix-up. I didn't call down for anything."
"Don't worry. There was no mix-up," she assures you, taking a step through the open door. "Where would you like me to set this?" she asks.
You open the door wider and let her in to set the tray down on the table. She sets the box gently on the bed and turns to exit, still smiling at you.
"Do you know who sent this?" you ask, tracking the woman with your eyes as she steps away from the bed. However, she does not answer your question. Instead, she continues to proceed to the door with a small knowing smile on her face that makes you wonder what she knows that you don't.
"Have a good day, Miss," she says, giving a small head nod as she flashes you one last grin.
"Thank you," you say and close the door behind her.
You make your way over to the tray first. Lifting the cover, you find a stack of pancakes and a side of bacon and eggs. There's also a small pot of coffee and a fluffy pastry. Your mouth is already watering at the sight of the food, and you inhale deeply, closing your eyes and imagining how good it will all taste, but you replace the cover.
The anticipation for what the box could contain is too great.
The box is tied close with a red ribbon, so you untie it and set it to the side. You remove the lid to the box and are surprised to find a white cotton robe. Immediately, a smile crosses your face, and a small giggle of glee escapes your lips. There's a small handwritten note resting on top.
Darlin,
Please meet me on our secret deck later this evening. Enjoy some time to yourself.
P.S. I wanted you to be comfortable.
Sincerely,
Joel.
You set the card down on the nightstand, right next to the little pink seashell, and you slip on the robe. It's even softer than the night before, if that's possible, and it smells like sandalwood - It smells like Joel.
The clock reads 4:30 pm before you finally get out of bed and dress for the day. You pick out a form-fitting sundress with a delicate blue shell pattern along the hemline. It's one of the pieces that Joel purchased for you at Amorebelle. You aren't used to wearing dresses, but you want to look nice when you see him.
You carefully do your makeup at the vanity table in your bathroom. As you step back and look in the mirror, you are impressed with your own appearance; you look like you belong – almost.
You make your way to Joel's secret deck. Your heart pounds against your ribcage as you get closer. You stop as you round the corner to the private location; all you can see is the back of Joel's head as he holds a phone to his ear. The muscles in his shoulders are tense, and you can tell by his low tone that the conversation is not a pleasant one.
"What do you mean he’s threatening to contact members of the family?" You hear Joel say. "He has demands now? What are his demands?"
There is a long pause after what Joel says, and you watch him running a hand through his hair; he seems to be on edge. He listens carefully to whoever he is talking to, and you consider turning around.
"We need to start protecting the family assets. I need you to review my father's will again and ensure it is airtight. He will not get a dime out of me."
You know you should turn around and give Joel privacy, but your curiosity gets the better of you when he starts talking about his family. You lean against the railing to wait, and it squeaks. It squeaks loudly.
Joel turns his head and gives you a small half-smile. He waves his hand, gesturing for you to come to join him. You hesitantly walk over, taking as much time as possible.
"I agree that's a good plan. Lock everything down, and let me know if we get any more calls from him. I'm counting on you, Alester. Don't let me down," Joel says. He hangs up the phone and sets it on the table next to the lounge chair he is sitting in. He sighs, turns to the laptop sitting next to him, and starts typing.
"Hey, I hope I am not interrupting anything," you say and slowly walk up to him.
"Darlin," Joel says as he closes the laptop and turns to face you. "You're not interrupting anything; I was just getting caught up on some work stuff."
"I just noticed you were on the phone, and I didn't want to interrupt a business call or something," you say, trying to explain why you were leaning against the railing and eavesdropping on his phone call.
"Oh, that wasn't business. I just needed to deal with some family issues," he says as he moves a white and blue striped towel and a bottle of tanning lotion off of the lounge chair next to him, gesturing for you to take a seat.
"Are you feeling better?" he asks, and a natural smile finally mirrors in his eyes.
"I am because of you. Thank you so much for sending me breakfast, and that robe was amazing. I honestly can't remember the last time I let myself lay around in bed all day. I really enjoyed it," you say and sit as gracefully as you can manage in the lounge chair next to Joel.
"Good to hear. You deserved a day to relax like that. You don't need to thank me for the robe; after seeing you in it last night, I knew it belonged to you. It looked like it was made for you, so it was only right that I send it down to you," he says.
His words make your heart beat fast again, and your face flushes. You know you are getting too close to your friend's very handsome and single father than is wise. But, when he says things like that, it is hard not to.
You think about telling him the truth about why you were so upset, but you don't want to ruin the fun you're having together by unloading about your ex-boyfriend, who is about to be his son-in-law.
"So, are you excited to walk your daughter down the aisle?" you ask, quickly trying to change the subject, so you don't blurt out your history with Todd.
"Honestly, I'm not sure if I will walk Sarah down the aisle or if she will want her mom to," Joel answers.
His response surprises you, and it must show on your face because Joel continues with his explanation.
"I was only with Marnie, Sarah's mother, for a short time. Marnie got married to someone else shortly after and had Sarah. She believed that Sarah was biologically her husband's and not mine. I didn't even know Sarah existed. She had Sarah take a DNA test when she was ten; she was linked to some of the Miller family members who had also taken the test. Only then did we find out that Sarah was mine."
"I had no idea, Joel. Sarah never said anything about any of this," you say. You feel so sorry for all of them.
"When Marnie's husband died, she told Sarah and me the truth. However, Sarah had grown up with another man as her father, and I never wanted to try and fill his place in her life. So I never really took on that fatherly role with her. Instead, I bought her everything she ever asked me for, and that was the basis of our relationship for a long time."
You sit there staring at the pain in Joel's face for a while. He never takes his eyes off of the ocean but continues to tell you about his past.
"Over the years, we've tried to build our relationship, and I take her on vacation with me every summer, but we still don't have the typical relationship you would expect. At times, Marnie and I have a hard time getting along; we don't see eye to eye on a lot of things. So I stayed back and let Marnie raise Sarah; in a lot of ways, I don't agree with how she raised her," Joel says with a sigh. "That's why you're all here. Sarah and I don't know how to talk to each other because we have nothing in common and barely any memories together. So dinner gets a little awkward without others to fill the silence," Joel says, seeming slightly embarrassed about admitting this.
"I had no idea. Sarah always made it sound like her life was so perfect."
"In all the ways Sarah measures her life, it has been," Joel says, but you aren't quite sure what he means by it.
A maid with a tray of tropical cocktails interrupts your conversation, and she sets the drinks on the table between Joel and you.
"Thank you, Molly, these look wonderful," Joel says.
"Of course, sir," Molly says with a small smile.
"How's your sister doing? I hope she's making a speedy recovery."
"She is, sir. She should be back on her feet again in no time."
"When we get back, you should make some time to go and see her. I'll tell Reggie to add some more PTO for you," Joel says.
"Thank you, sir, I really appreciate that," she says and turnsto leave.
As you observe the interaction between Joel and one of his staff members, you realize you've never seen him treat an employee poorly. However, Sarah snaps at them to get their attention, and you suspect she doesn't even know their names or anything about them. She doesn't even treat them like they're people. This explains why you never felt like you fit in with Sarah and her friends, but you feel comfortable and want to spend all your time with Joel. He doesn't look down on you for being poor, but Sarah does. The irony of it all is that the only one on the ship who knows exactly how poor you are, is Joel.
You stare at Joel, and when he finally meets your gaze, you can't help but smile at him. "Thank you for telling me all of this," you say.
"Thank you for listening," he responds simply.
"It seems like we're making a habit of telling each other all of our secrets," you say with a small giggle.
"I hope that continues."
"Me too," you answer.
"Sarah has another dinner planned on the upper deck. Can I walk you up?" Joel asks you.
"I'm actually feeling a little seasick, I don't think it would be wise for me to eat right now," you answer. You don't feel like spending another evening with Sarah and her new fiance.
"Do you need a doctor? We have a nurse on the yacht, but we'll be making port in just a few hours; I can call and have one meet us at the dock."
"No, I'm okay, really. I just need to go back and lie down."
"Okay, if you're sure. I'll walk you down to your room," Joel said, checking his watch.
"No, no. I'm fine, really."
"Okay," he says reluctantly, "but please use the intercom in your room if you need anything."
"I will, I promise," you say with a small wave and leave to slowly make your way back to your room.
You take your time moving through the ship. You don't want to run into anyone heading to Sarah's dinner, where the topic of conversation is sure to be all about her recent engagement.
You're relieved when you see that most of the hallways are completely empty, so you quickly start toward your room.
"Hey!"
You turn and see Reggie walking up behind you.
"Hey, Reggie. It's been a while," you say with a smile.
"Where are you going?" he asks.
"I'm going back to my room. I wasn't really in the mood to spend dinner with everyone."
"Well, I was on my way to play some cards with some of the crew members. Why don't you come?"
Reggie must have seen the hesitation on your face. "Come on. It's actually fun to hang out with normal people every once in a while."
You laugh. You didn't realise that Reggie thought you were just as wealthy as the rest of Sarah's friends. "Reggie, I am a normal person. Let's go.”
—
Joel makes his way up to dinner alone, silently wishing you would be joining. You're one of the only ones in the group that he actually cares to have a conversation with. However, it might be for the best that you're not coming. Joel found himself always drawn to you, and if he wasn't careful, Sarah would catch on to his interest in her friend. He knows that would not go over well.
Joel's the last one to arrive, and he takes the only seat available next to Sarah's new fiance, Todd.
"I never got the chance to congratulate you on the engagement last night," Joel says as he shakes Todd's hand. "I rushed out because I had an urgent business matter I had to attend to."
Joel hoped that would adequately explain his quick departure the night before. He feels a little guilty that he didnt stay to celebrate and instead took off after you to make sure she was okay.
If he's being honest with himself, his evening spent with you, talking in the sauna, was much more enjoyable. He probably won't be winning any best dad of the year awards, though. He already smoothed things over with Sarah this morning. He showed up to her room with a pair of diamond earrings from Tiffany's. He'd bought them for her birthday, but they were perfect as a stand-in engagement present. Once he brought out the diamond, he didn't think she heard another word that he said. He’s happy to see that she’s wearing them tonight. She truly did look happy, and Joel prayed she would be in her marriage.
"Thank you so much, sir. I hope you approve of our engagement," Todd says.
Joel almost forgot that it was customary for a man to ask for his daughter's hand to get the father's approval of the marriage. "I think you two make a great couple. I'm looking forward to having you as part of the family, Todd," Joel says and then stands up. He taps his wine glass to get the group's attention. Everyone at the table quiets quickly and turns to him.
"I want to congratulate Sarah and Todd on their engagement. May they find happiness in each other and enjoy each other's company for many years to come." Sarah's friends all clap at this statement. Once the quiet returns he starts again. “As my engagement gift to the couple, I would like to throw you two an engagement party at my home here in the Bahamas."
This announcement receives a very excited response from all of Sarah's friends. Sarah's face is beaming at all of the attention she is getting. She smiles and stands up to make an announcement of her own. Joel notices she shakes her head gracefully from side to side, causing the earrings to catch the light. She is an expert at showing off wealth; no wonder she’s doing so well as an influencer.
“Thank you so much, Daddy! I'm so glad you approve, and an engagement party will be the perfect way to announce to the world that I'm about to be married. I am so excited about the upcoming wedding, and I would be honoured if all of you were part of our wedding party." Sarah is met with murmurs of agreement from the men and squeals of excitement from the women present. She sits down with a huge smile, clearly pleased with the group's reactions. “Daddy, can you hire some professional photographers for the engagement party? I need some really good pictures to post."
“Of course," Joel says.
“I wish we could have gotten some great shots of the actual engagement, but Todd didn't think about that part of it," Sarah says, with a hint of annoyance in her voice.
“I'm sorry, sweetheart, but I told you it wasn't exactly planned. We had such an amazing day, and it just felt like the right time," Todd says defensively.
“I'm marrying a true romantic," Sarah says, resting her chin on Todd's shoulder.
“Is there anything else you two need?" Joel asks, trying his best to be supportive.
“I’ll need to pick one more bridesmaid so we have even numbers," Sarah says to Joel.
“Why not ask your old roomate?" Joel asks, confused as to why Sarah isn't planning on asking her most likable and attractive friend.
“Oh, I didn't notice that she wasn't here for my announcement. That sort of works out for the best, though. I’m going to ask someone different. She doesn't really fit into the vision I have for the wedding," Sarah says, sounding very much like a snob.
“And what exactly is your vision for the wedding?" Joel asks, annoyed with his daughter's uncouth response.
“I want everything to be glamorous," Sarah says as though it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I'll still invite her, but as part of the wedding party, you have to fit the aesthetic."
“That's true; it's not like she would be comfortable with the level of finery at the wedding anyway. It’s very obvious that she’s lower class. I think our guests would be able to sense that. If she can't afford to buy a new dress for her birthday party, it's not likely that she will be able to afford a bridesmaid's dress anyway," Todd says with a smug smile on his face.
Sarah giggles and then turns to talk to the woman next to her about possible venues for the wedding.
“Didn't you just meet her this week?" Joel asks Joel in a low voice.
“Yeah, Sarah told me they went to college together or something," Todd says and takes a bite off his plate.
“Then how would you know she couldn't afford a new dress for her birthday party?" Joel says with quiet suspicion.
Todd's eyes go wide in shock, and he nearly chokes on the food in his mouth. He takes a few moments to recover and then says, “I think Sarah told me that. She went to her birthday, and she had to borrow a dress because she couldn't afford a new one."
Although Joel doesn't doubt that Sarah would gossip about something as petty as not being able to afford a new dress, he finds it odd that Todd would remember something like that. Todd's reaction tells Joel that he is hiding something, and Joel's suspicion is only increased by his quick shift to join Sarah's conversation.
Do you and Todd know each other outside of Sarah?
Joel eats the rest of his meal in silence and makes an excuse about having work to do to get out of the rest of the evening's activities. Instead of heading back to his room, he goes to the captain to tell him about the change of plans.
After Joel's conversation with the captain, he makes his way to his office, which is located a floor below the guest rooms. He thinks about going and checking on you but decides it is best to let you get some sleep.
Joel's office on the yacht is a carbon copy of his office at home. It has a large wooden desk in the center and a large dark leather armchair. The only difference is the view is spectacularly better on the yacht. A large windowed balcony sits behind the desk, so Joel can watch the ocean as he works.
Joel sinks into his leather chair and opens the laptop on his desk. A notification glows on the screen, informing him of the one hundred and twenty-seven emails waiting in his inbox. He pulls out his phone instead and finds his event planner's phone number in his contacts.
“Hello, this is Jessica of Jessica's events."
“Jessica, this is Joel Miller."
“Mr. Miller, it’s great to hear from you again. To what do I owe this pleasure?"
“I'm calling to see if you can organize a party for me. My daughter just got engaged, and I want to throw her an engagement party at my home in the Bahamas."
“Congratulations, Mr. Miller. I would love to help plan such a happy occasion. When can I pencil in your event?"
“Two days from now," he says, knowing the absurdity of the request.
“Did I hear you right? You want me to plan an entire event in two days?"
“If anyone can do it, it's you, Jessica. I’m willing to pay double."
“You have always known how to close a deal. I will have everything ready for you, Mr. Miller. Does your daughter have a theme in mind?”
Joel hates that he has to say it out loud, “She said the theme of her wedding is…glamor."
He hears a small giggle escape from Jessica on the other end of the phone, and she quickly tries to cover it with a cough.
“I know how it sounds," Joel says, embarrassed. “That’s why I am trusting you with this event. I know you will make it tasteful. After the engagement party, I’ll have Sarah talk with you about wedding plans."
“That sounds great, Mr. Miller. I will see you in two days."
“Thank you very much. Goodbye," Joel says and hangs up the phone. This wedding is going to be expensive, and Joel already expects to foot the bill for everything. Extravagant is one thing, but Sarah's taste is beyond even that.
Joel turns his attention back to his laptop screen and the blinking email notification, but he can't get you out of his head. Instead of working, he pulls up his social media pages and searches for your name. He quickly finds your social media pages. You're not very active; most of your pictures are candid shots of you and your friends, two women that looke kind and a lot more down-to-earth than his own daughter.
Joels slightly disappointed that you don't have more pictures for him to scroll through and very little about your life. He wants to know more about you, but it seems like you're very private with your online presence.
He sighs and closes the social media pages, finally returning to the emails he’s dreading sorting through. The newest email in his inbox makes his heart sink. It's from an unknown sender and contains a single sentence.
I know who I really am, and the whole world will, too, if you don't meet my demands.
—
"I am a normal person," you say again, smiling as you walk with Reggie. He raises an eyebrow skeptically at you.
"You don't believe me?" you ask.
"Right, because us normal people get invited to one of the largest private yachts in the world as guests all the time. You don't have to pretend you're not rich to fit in with the crew. They will like you because you are actually nice," Reggie says.
"I am the furthest thing from rich," you laugh.
"Oh, yeah? Prove it," Reggie says with a teasing smile on his face.
You quickly pull out your phone and find a picture of you and your two roommates in your apartment and show it to Reggie.
"What does this prove?" he asks.
"This is a picture of me and my two roommates, Lin and Aubrey; we are sitting in the living room of our one-bedroom apartment. I’m a bartender at a little dive bar, and I currently have two hundred and thirty dollars in my bank account," you say matter of factly.
Reggie's expression changes from one of teasing to one of shock.
"Are you serious?" he asks.
"I mean, I can pull up a bank statement if you really want," you say with a smile.
"Then how did you end up as one of Sarah's friends?"
"Sarah and I were roommates during our first few years at NYU. I think Sarah was placed in the regular dorm rooms to teach her what it was like to be a regular person or something," you say, only half joking. You still haven't figured that one out. Maybe her dad was trying to teach her a life lesson. "Anyway, she hated it and dropped out her sophomore year, but we remained friends and have been in and out of touch over the years. She randomly invited me on this vacation, and I accepted. I didn't expect the yacht to be quite this big, though."
Once you are done with your explanation, you are on the lowest floor of the yacht. You're surprised at how nice the staff area is. Perhaps you'd been expecting it to be like a scene from the lower decks of the movie 'Titanic,' but the lowest level of the ship looks like walking into a lobby of a four-star hotel.
You make your way into what must be the staff dining room. There’s a large group of people surrounding a circular table in the middle of a game of cards. Music is playing in the background, and snacks and beer litter the table. It looks like this is going to be the most comfortable you've been on your trip so far.
"Everyone be nice; we have a newcomer," Reggie says as he pulls out a chair for you.
The mood changes slightly as you sit down, and Reggie sits next to you. You realize you’re still wearing the sundress that Joel bought you, and you must look like you are made of money.
"Hey, I'm Max," says a man with black hair and olive skin.
"Hey, Max," you stick your hand out to shake his and you introduce yourself.
"Nice to meet you. Tell us about yourself."
"There isn't much to tell. I'm a bartender at a little hole-in-the-wall in New York, and I'm trying to put myself through law school," you say nonchalantly.
"What bar?" a girl across the table asks.
"It's called McGregor's."
"No way! I've been there before," Max says. “You have the best nachos!"
You laugh. “Yeah, we do. I would eat an entire plate by myself if no one were watching."
You feel the entire table relax as they all realize that you aren't like the rest of the guests on the yacht.
"What are we playing?" you ask, grabbing a handful of popcorn.
"Strip Poker."
Your throat goes dry at the thought of undressing in front of a room full of strangers. You're afraid to swallow the piece of popcorn you just placed in your mouth. You look around, and everyone is still fully clothed, and your heart rate starts to slow. Max smiles, clearly finding enjoyment in your shock.
"Max, don't scare her off already," Reggie chuckles. “Do you want a beer?”
—
“You wouldn't believe what one of the 'Richies' asked me today,” Brenna says
"Oh, this is going to be good. Brenna always has the best stories," Reggie leans over and whispers to you. After a few beers and a hand or two of actual poker, everyone seems completely at ease with you.
"I was cleaning up a wine glass he'd dropped, and he started hitting on me. Obviously, he has no idea what the real world is like, so he starts asking questions as a way to talk to me."
"Oh no," Max says with a laugh.
"He asked me about living on the bottom deck of the yacht, and I tell him how it takes some getting used to because we are below the water down here. Then he asks me how we use our balconies if they're underwater."
You snort into your glass, glad you hadn't been taking a sip of the beer at the moment, or it would be flowing out of your nose. You set your beer down and ask, "Oh, please tell me you had a good comeback."
She smiles brightly, "I told him we could only use them at low tide. Then he nods and says, 'That makes sense.' I swear they are all clueless."
Brenna starts laughing, and the whole table joins in, but by the time you catch your breath, you have tears in the corners of your eyes. You have not laughed like this the entire time you've been on the ship.
"No offense; I know Sarah is your friend and all, but how do you stand spending time with them?" Max asks.
"Oh, trust me, it’s a challenge. I sneak off by myself whenever I get the chance. No one seems to really notice, especially after Sarah's engagement."
"Oh, man, her fiance is a real tool, isn't he?" Brenna adds.
"He's a social climber too, so they are actually a great fit," Charlotte says. Charlotte is one of the older staff members and hasn't said much throughout the night.
"Well, that makes sense about the fiance, but do you mean Sarah is one too?" Max asks.
They seem to have forgotten that you are there, or at least they forget that you know Sarah personally. However, you keep your mouth shut not because you want to know more, but because you are trying to act as if you don't care too much.
"I started working for Mr. Miller when Sarah and the horrible woman she has as a mother first came around. That same day, the staff was all told that Sarah was Mr. Miller's daughter and to make sure she had everything she needed. Marnie, Sarah's mother, spent the whole day ordering the staff around like she was the owner of the house," said Charlotte.
"From my experience with Marnie, that sounds about right," Max offers.
"Sarah was raised by another man by the name of Winston Radcliff. Some of the staff had been around when Mr. Miller first brought Marnie around. The rumor was that Marnie threw Mr. Miller aside for Radcliff right after she found out she was pregnant because Radcliff could offer her a better position in society."
You can't imagine someone who had the chance to be with Joel choosing another person over him. You can't help but ask, "What did Winston offer that Joel couldn't?"
"Radcliff was the next in line for an earldom. It turned out that the earldom came with a shabby little estate that cost Winston his fortune to keep standing. The marriage quickly turned sour, and when the earl died, Marnie was just as quick to get a paternity test for Sarah."
"In my opinion, Mr. Miller was better off not knowing the truth. Marnie always shows up asking for more money. Sarah has always wanted something, even though Mr. Miller buys her more than she could ever need." Charlotte says.
"Was Joel in love with Marnie?" you ask, not knowing if you really want the answer.
"No, I don't think he ever really loved her. Maybe he could have found a woman right for him if Marnie hadn't been around for the last fourteen years, scaring away every decent woman he has dated. She thinks that if she can keep him single long enough, he will fall back in love with her, but Mr. Miller will never forgive her for what she did."
You nod and turn to see Reggie staring at you with a strange, almost hurt look on his face. He turns away from you before you can ask him what's wrong.
"Well, I think I'm going to head to bed," Brenna says, and the others all stand up to follow.
"You should come play cards with us again," Max says.
"Absolutely! We are here every night, and you are welcome to join us," Brenna adds.
"Thank you. I will." You're happy to know they've welcomed you as one of them.
You say a quick goodnight to everyone and head back up the stairs to the upper decks. Reggie's room is on the lower deck, so you walk by yourself. It must be later than you thought because the lights in the pool area are already turned off.
You feel silly rushing across the dark deck, but it makes you sort of nervous being alone on such a big ship. You're careful to avoid the deck chairs this time, and you're relieved to make it to the doors leading into the guestroom corridor.
"Where the hell have you been?"
You stop dead in your tracks and don't want to turn around. You know that tone of voice from countless arguments. It's Todd, the last person on the entire ship that you want to be alone with. You slowly turn, knowing you're going to have to face him eventually.
He stumbles a step towards you, and you back up to avoid a collision if he falls.
"Are you drunk?"
"I believe I asked a question first," Todd stutters.
"I was playing a game of cards with some of the crew."
Todd laughs and rolls his eyes at you. He again stumbles a little closer, and you're trapped between him and your door. He leans forward and places an arm on either side of you, blocking your escape. You can smell the alcohol on his breath as he laughs. He's beyond drunk.
"Just like you. A yacht full of every thing you could want, and you spend your time with the help."
"Get off of me, Todd!"
"You know you still want me," Todd says, lowering his face closer to yours. You push against his chest, trying to get him off.
Todd is suddenly ripped backward, so forcefully you know it wasn't of his own doing.
You see Joel standing behind Todd with a fist full of his shirt. “Get your ass to bed before I throw you off my ship."
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Hi! Can you do a anthony bridgerton being obsessed with a reader who doesnt want anything to do with him and rejects him all the time?
Thank u!
(in read your colin one, he is not really my man but your writing is just marvelous! If you decide to do this im so excited to read it!! If you dont its ok, no pressure!)
❥Anthony Bridgerton as a obsessed partner
pairing_ Anthony x reader
Possible triggers_ yandere/dark content, forced affection, mentions of yelling, toxic relationships, Anthony being a total jerk, unwilling reader
a/n_ hiii, thanks so much for your interest! I hope this fic is good and is exactly what you wanted <3 like I said in my last post feedback is welcome and requests!
-unlike his brother Colin, he is fully aware of what he’s doing and he doesn’t care. He has an “eye on the prize” mentality and has no intention of straying from his goal (you).In a way this is all a game to him, and he has no plans of losing.
-Anthony is controlling/ intense. He desires nothing more for you to be his, and only his. He is not afraid to fight when it comes to you, and will gladly knock a man out for even looking at you. Intimidation tactics are common. Expect to see Anthony randomly showing up at your home or anywhere else you might be. Wether you like him or not he wants everyone to believe the two of you are together. He’s the first one to come up to you at a ball and he makes sure he’s the only one. He doesn’t care if you say no. On top of being controlling he can also be jealous, so expect to be pressed with questions like, “who were you with?!” “What is his name?!” “Do you honestly think he can provide better than me?”
-he has no problem taking full advantage as his role as “viscount” when it comes to you (and your family). He’ll use his influence to gain your family’s favor and your hand. Although meeting through friendship is possible, your mostly likely to catch his eye at a ball than anything. Like his brother the marriage will be swift. Everyone in the ton will be invited to witness your union wether you like it or not. He knows that you don’t hold the same affection for him, so he hopes the tons presence will keep you in check.
-once the two of you are married he doesn’t tolerate any kind of outburst, especially near his family. He cares deeply about them, and the thought of you speaking ill of him or your relationship fills him with rage. So he’ll make a point to be by your side until he can fully trust you. Family participation is a must, especially when it comes to family games. He wants you by his side and happy, but if you can’t be he’s willing to force it.
-if you manage to tell your in-laws about Anthony’s extreme behavior or beg them to help you get out of the marriage, there’s little chance you’ll get the help that you want. Anthony will be quick to take hold of the situation and reassure them that there’s nothing wrong then punish you accordingly. Like his brother he doesn’t like to see you in pain, but he’s not afraid to inflict it.
-like his brother he wants a lot of kids and he expects you to feel the same. If you don’t he’ll just say, “you don’t actually feel that way my love. You’ll come around eventually.” Again family is important to him, so you will eventually have children wether you like it or not.
-Anthony at times can have a short temper, especially when you push him away. He’ll yell and scream demanding “why you don’t love him”. After his outburst and if your upset he’ll be quick to comfort you and apologize, “I’m sorry.. I never mean to upset you.” He can have his tender moments.
-like the rest of his family divorce is not an option and bringing it up will only lead to more problems for you. Same goes for attempting to leave him. He doesn’t know what to do with himself or you at that point, and his desperation will only lead to fueling his obsession with you.
-he’s your husband and you’re his wife. It doesn’t matter how much you fight him or deny his affection that fact will remain. “Wether you acknowledge it or not, your are only for my eyes to witness. So there’s no use in fighting what’s already been vowed.”
#bridgerton x reader#bridgerton#anthony bridgerton#bridgerton season 3#anthony x reader#anthony bridgerton x reader#Yandere Anthony#Yandere Anthony bridgerton#Yandere Anthony x reader#dark Anthony bridgerton
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Just got back from my friend’s wedding :’) I think it says a lot that I was the only high school friend that showed up
#TBF the others in our friend group back then live in different states now#And flying out for a wedding can be SO expensive.#But yeah idk it just meant a lot to me :’)#And my friend (the groom) was SO happy to see me. And his family was too#That made me really glad 🤧#The fact that he invited me to come at all also says a lot I think#And you know what maybe I cried on the way home in the car but that’s nobody’s business but mine!!#I’m very very happy for him. And his wife is SO sweet and so pretty#It’s just weird yk? Cause in high school I liked this guy SO much#Like I daydreamed about getting married to him some day#So seeing him marrying someone else felt very weird lol#Bittersweet mostly#Sorry this is super embarrassing LMAO but it’s not like I’m ever going to tell this to his face.#I know they’ll be very happy together and I’m so so glad he found someone that fits together with him so well#He’d better come to MY wedding tho. In the future. LOL#Shima speaks#It was a very ‘saying goodbye to your first love’ kind of thing.#Even after I confessed to him in high school (and got rejected) I never really stopped liking him#Like I just never got over it I guess. Even tho I KNEW nothing would ever come of it#Idk sometimes it’s hard to let that stuff go! It’s hard to stop liking someone after you liked them for so long and so strongly#I want to say I’m over it now but considering I was crying in my car:#Well. JFJSJMFMSMSNN#I know I don’t feel that way for him anymore like as a fact but. Idk it was weird—#Again bittersweet. I think I just needed a second to process and really let it sink in#Goodbye to my high school fantasy //waves a handkerchieff#Also MAYBE I saw them be so happy and was like. Why can’t I have that with someone. HUH#Leetle jealous. I need to find me a someone *squint emoji*#Anyway rant over wedding was good I’m just an idiot ;)
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Sure there's zombies killing and eating people on the street but those people are not dying from the virus they're dying from comorbidities. For instance, that guy we saw getting eaten on the way into work today clearly died from blood loss, not infection, plus he already had a heart condition. People with preexisting conditions are just going to have to take care of themselves. Say it with me, "They're all already dead to me." See, that feels a lot better now doesn't it?
Good because you still have to go to work. No we're not paying you extra. Yes we're doubling grocery prices. No you don't qualify for disability. Or healthcare. Or a home.
Look, if you get bitten, you can stay home for one day, I guess 😒, but then you need to come in early. We're really short staffed at the moment, despite our company's profits being higher than ever. In fact we may be laying some of you off next month. You don't mind working off the clock right?
Also you look silly with that protective gear. We're gonna harass you for it, not like institutionally but just socially. Who cares if a zombie attacks you? Who cares if we invite them into the building? You don't need to defend yourself, you're just overreacting. If you get bitten just tell everyone the festering bite mark is from a different animal, that's what we all do.
And hey, don't worry so much. It's endemic, which means we don't have to keep track of how many people are dying from it anymore. Just look at those numbers! It's only killed 2,000 people in America this week! That's basically nobody! We're back to normal!
If everything starts tasting like rotting meat for the rest of your life, it's probably something else. If you experience brain fog or you forget things constantly or you're tired all the time after even minor physical activity, it's just because you're lazy. Yes every other virus you ever get will also be increasingly worse but that's just a coincidence. Those viruses just happen to be exponentially worse now.
Plus, those few weeks during the lockdown were terrible for my mental health. I just can't keep living like that, so we have to go back to normal life, which now involves people biting each other and twitching uncontrollably and rotting visibly.
You can't expect the world to wait for you. "Already dead to me," remember?
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Hi luv! Can you please do some headcanons of ghost having a civilian wife who is an absolute RAY of sunshine, but he keeps the fact that he’s married a secret even from 141. And when they do find out they’re just like??? How??? She’s like so cute???
yes ugh, soft!ghost has my heart, he'd be such a cutie obsessed with his wife, I love this, also obsessed with gossipy Soap and Gaz, they'd be so invested in Ghost's life
warnings: none just fluff
You and Simon had been married 3 years, meeting 5 years ago while he was on leave back home and you were visiting family
You bumped into him on accident after losing all sense of direction on a back street.
He was intrigued because most people are frightened by his outward appearance, but you just smiled at him apologizing profusely.
He had awkwardly asked for your number and you gave it to him, going on a few dates before he fell madly in love with you. Completely enamoured with your smile and personality, always giggling and happy, a stark contrast to how he usually was.
You made him see things in a softer light, constantly dragging him to farmer’s markets and gardens, he followed your every whim, just happy to spend time with you.
He had proposed a year after the two of you became official, deciding he couldn’t go another day without being married to you.
A week after the proposal he had to deploy, it broke his heart to leave you but it made him even more eager to come back to you.
You knew most of what his job consisted of, he spared you the more gory parts as they always made you squeamish. The two of you making it a rule to keep your relationship secret, even from the rest of the team.
After you married he made a point of calling you every day from base just to check in, even though he’d see you right as soon as he got home.
On a particularly difficult mission, Simon had gotten hit in the head, his helmet knocked off and thrown to the dirt, a small piece of paper falling out.
Soap rushed over to him to make sure he was okay, noticing the small paper and grabbing at it as Simon reached to tear it from his hands. It was a photo of you, hair messy from the wind, skin glowing from the sun outside, bright smile plastered on your face as you smiled at your husband behind the camera.
“Lt have’ya a lass,” Soap asked, dodging Ghost’s attempts to retrieve the photo. “Tell me and I’ll give it back”. Sick of Soaps games Ghost submits. “She’s my wife”
Word spread quickly through the team on behalf of Soap’s loudmouth, all the men rushing to question Ghost about his secret relationship.
“No shot you married her, she’s so.. Cute? Smiley? And you’re so” Gaz is cut off by Simon’s dark stare.
All the men pestered Ghost about meeting you as he continued to decline, Price offering a simple ‘congratulations son’
One day you came to base to drop off some gear that Simon forgot at home, immediately greeted by Soap. “No way” he says, stepping towards you with open arms, pulling you into a hug. You hug him back confused. “Sorry, have we met” “No but I’ve heard a lot about you lass”
Simon rushes out of the base practically tearing Soap off you, giving him a warning with a quiet stare as you tug on his jacket, reaching on your toes to lift his mask slightly, planting a kiss to his lips and smiling before handing him the bag of gear which he takes before running a hand softly over your back.
“This is so strange” Soap responds taken aback by the sight of you two, one tall and brooding, face covered by a skull mask and the other a practical ray of sunshine, wearing a long flowing dress that leaves the top of your chest open to the breeze.
“I will say, you’re much prettier in person, the picture doesn’t do justice” “That’ll do” Simon warns as you giggle.
Against Simon’s wishes you invite the team over for a dinner, the weather was too nice to not eat outside as you got to meet each member, learning more about them than Simon would ever tell you.
“I’m sorry it just makes no sense,” Gaz says as you quirk an eyebrow in question. “I just mean you’re so nice, and the Lieutenant is so daunting” you laugh, “trust me, he’s not so scary with the mask off,” He bows his head in embarrassment as you break down his strict facade.
“So what do you two even do? Gasp does Lt cuddle?” Soap asks almost giggling, Simon swears that he could kill Johnny right there. You spare a glance at your husband before meekly nodding in Soap’s direction as he and Gaz are taken in a fit of laughter, you shrug your shoulders in a silent sorry to Simon.
The team made it a tradition to now show up at your home at least once a week to have dinner and some drinks, or just play some board games, intent on getting to know you better, almost punishing Ghost for keeping you a secret.
Cleaning up dinner Simon slides behind you wrapping you in a hug, a small show of affection he had been holding off on while the team was in view. “You’re telling them too much” As he kisses the base of your neck, you turn your body to him, “It’s nice to get to know them, I like seeing you around your friends” he scoffs as the term, then thinks about it shit maybe we are friends.
The time spent after at work Simon was constantly pestered about when he’d make Price and Soap uncles while Gaz had proclaimed himself as your future child’s fairy godmother.
Simon grew tired of the constant interrogation but felt like a weight was off his chest finally being able to be open about your relationship, though he’d never let the team hear the pet names you call him in private, nor would he let them in on the more tender moments of your time spent together.
The team always telling him that he was nicer when you visited or called him, always nagging to see pictures of the two of you (there were barely any, maybe one where he didn't have his mask on but it was kept secure in the house), and wanting to know when you'd visit.
Ghost was relieved that the team was so nice to you, he'd kill them for even saying a bad word, but he wasn't surprised given your ability to get along with almost everyone, always stopping to say good morning to people on the streets.
They teased him for days after you dropped him off some lunch one time, he had acted angry but he loved the domesticity of your lives, he loved seeing you in his office, a bright figure in such a beige world, he couldn't help the smile that crept on his face at the mere thought of you.
So the two of you welcomed the team into your lives, enjoying the company after living rather solitary. Spilling secrets with Soap and Gaz as Price and Simon looked on, Price with a small smirk on his face, happy that Simon finally found the love he deserved, while Simon sat unamused at Soap's jokes.
#simon riley fluff#simon ghost riley#simon riley x reader#simon riley#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x you#ghost cod#cod mw2#ghost fluff#ghost mw2#mw2022#ghost x reader#simon ghost riley x you#call of duty mwii#simon ghost riley angst#cod mw x reader#call of duty
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baby honey 2
DATE: NOVEMBER 5, 2023
summary: you and harry need to talk. so, you do. along with other things.
song: Fantasy- the driver era
words: 7.2k
warnings: SMUT (f- receiving [oral, choking], daddy kink, slight dumbification, mentions of voyurism/exhibitism [not clearly stated] and porn, protected sex, dirty talk!!), language, and a very blunt y/n.
note: i actually got a part two out not that long after the first part?? omg?? monumental moment here guys. enjoy! PART ONE!
secret pornstar!harry x secret pornstar!y/n
—
DaylightDaddy [verified]: What are you doing to me?
You were waiting by your computer for the longest sixteen minutes of your life. That’s how long it took Harry to watch your less-than-ten-minute video and then text you back. Your heart, which was still flat on the floor of your stomach, leaps excitedly when it sees Harry’s message on your computer screen.
That message alone verified to you that DaylightDaddy was indeed Harry. Of course Harry would bring back his infamous saying at a time like this. You wanted to ditch the conversation on this website and text Harry personally. You also wanted to go to his house and pounce on him for being ridiculously attractive and vulnerable. You were an idiot by not saying anything yesterday and he was an idiot by being so blunt and angry. You both could have ruined not only your friendship but your chances at being something more by not talking. Communication is key, yet you’re still locked.
Why?
Maybe because somewhere in the dark crack of your heart, you’re terrified that you’ll be vulnerable to a man that’s six years older than you just for him to say that he doesn’t actually like you. He just likes your breasts and the idea of sleeping with you.
But that’s not Harry, right?
Without responding to his message, you grab your phone that has been forgotten on your floor. The second you sent that video to him you chucked it across the room and hoped for the best. It seems as though it worked, but at the same time, there is still so much unsaid with Harry. So many feelings you need to work out. But first, you need to talk and figure out how you both actually feel. Is it just lust? Is it just the fact that you two work together? Or is it something more?
Y/N: harry
He texts you almost simultaneously.
Harry: Y/N
Your fingers freeze at the keyboard. Even though you were just talking to him, how do you bring up such a serious conversation. We need to talk? Or I need to talk to you? They both sound bad.
Harry: Are you working today?
You and Harry both know damn well neither of you works. Him asking this question just seems like he’s continuing to avoid you, and avoid the inevitable conversation that you guys need to have. Did your video not spark a lightbulb in his head? How can he not tell that you do feel whatever he feels? Maybe even more…
Y/N: i am not, but i think you know that
Y/N: can we talk? are you busy?
You know he’s not busy, but that doesn’t make his reaction any scarier.
Harry: I’m free
Harry: Do you want to come over
It was one of the scariest texts he’s ever sent. After what just went down between you two, inviting you over could mean anything. It’s clear there’s a strong attraction connecting you both, but there is also a lot of murky water that needs to be cleaned.
Y/N: yes
Harry: Let me pick you up
That stubbornness inside of you that Harry is all too familiar with wanted to fight him. To tell him that you are more than capable of driving yourself, even though you only have Penny’s car for one more day. But him suggesting to pick you up showed his desperation to see you. And maybe that was a good thing. Maybe the forward action instead of the backing away was what you two needed.
Y/N: okay
Y/N: give me an hour!!
You needed time to think about it of course.
—
Within that hour, you were going crazy. You took a warm, hard-pressed shower in order to massage all the tension in your body and hopefully in your mind. You thought about every possible scenario about seven thousand times, hoping that you’d get it right. This time, you planned to say the right words and not stand there like a fucking statue when faced with his vulnerability. This time, you were going to be vulnerable too, because you’ve never had a chance at something more like this before. And you don’t want to ruin it just because you’re afraid. How lame is that?
While you were waiting for Harry to text you, you pace around the room. Your eyes averted to your computer that was still lying on your bed, and the only thing you could think about was your conversation with Harry. Not only had he called you attractive but he compared your beauty to everyone on the website and still said you were the most attractive. Was that just him flirting? Or was he being serious? You wondered if Harry really felt that way about you and you hoped you would find out soon.
On that thought, you never even checked if his money went through. You know the second that it does you’ll be giving it right back to him. So, while you’re still waiting, you open up your bank app on your phone. Even though you’re sitting on your bed now, your leg is still bouncing up and down, anxiety infiltrating your blood like the most insane drug.
When you finally comprehend the number that is present on your screen, your eyes nearly pop out of their sockets. You blink a couple hundred times before briskly checking your most recent transactions. In neon green letters an extravagant $2000+ appears in front of you. Your hand jaggedly and slowly finds its way over your agape mouth, bewildered at Harry’s extreme act. What on earth would cause Harry to willingly send you that much money? Yes, you have complained about your financial situation, but you also clearly denied Harry of a loan. Now, you have to send his money back and it’s going to be really awkward. Another thing you have to add to your list of “Things to Talk Through with Harry”. Just as you close the app, Harry texts you that he’s at your place.
–
“Hey,” You manage to cough out as you slide nervously into his passenger seat.
“Hey,” Harry replies with a thick swallow. His grip on the steering wheel changes from intense to loose every few seconds before he starts the car.
There’s a low hum on the radio along with his air conditioning blowing cool air towards you. But other than that, no one had said a word. You peek over the dashboard a few times to see the road, wondering how far Harry lives from you and how quickly you can get out of this car. You hoped when you got to his house that this unbreathable, anxious tension would have died down, so you two can finally sort this shit out.
As a few more minutes pass by, you realize that you hate this. You hate the awkward silence that’s dawning over your friendship and making you overthink every single word. It’s never been like this with Harry, ever. You’ve never had to second-guess your late-night conversations and he never had to restrain his friendly charm. This, this tension, is unlike both of you.
You have to talk. Maybe you should mention the money?
“I know y’want to say something. Just say it, please, I can’t stand this awkwardness,” Harry blurts out as he stops at a red light. You inhale and blink, suddenly feeling a bit more alive with the sound of his voice.
“I looked at my bank,” You said, looking down at your lap. You were already being shy and you haven’t even got to the actual vulnerable stuff yet. What is wrong with you?
“Have you?”
“Yeah, and I saw the money you gave me.”
“Good.”
“Harry, you know I can’t take that,” Now, you turn your head towards his, which is safely facing the road. But you know he sees you and you know he’s stressed with your stubbornness.
“But you already did. It’s in your account, yeah?”
“Okay, but–”
“I don’t understand why you won’t take my money. Is it not good enough for you or somethin’?” Harry’s voice has become more agitated, making his last turn a bit sharper. You see him take a deep breath as he pulls into a driveway of a nice house. It was nice because the lawn was green and cut and the color of its walls were a pleasant cream color with a smooth navy blue as its border. It wasn’t the biggest house ever, but Harry was more practical than that. He didn’t need some huge, showy house in order to seem cool. Harry was already cool, whether he knew it or not.
“All money is the same, you doy.”
“You didn’t want it when I said I could loan it to you. Then I found a way to give it to you because you earned it and you still won’t take it. How does that make sense?”
“That’s different!”
“How is that different?”
“You of all people should know!”
Harry groans out of frustration and gets out of the car. “Let’s just get in the house.”
You follow suit, shutting the car door a little more roughly than you thought. Before you know it, you’re in his house and it’s just so Harry. His furniture is smooth; all browns and woods. He had pictures of his family scattered along with abstract art. By his decently sized television is a large record player next to an impressive case of vinyls. He even has a miniature bookshelf full of books that would probably bore you, but it still fascinates you.
“What, have you never seen a house before?”
“Don’t get all snappy with me. We were supposed to talk.”
“You make it difficult.”
“Why? Because I won’t take your money?”
“That doesn’t help,” he crosses his arms before dropping to sit on his couch. Again, you follow him, but keep your distance. You don’t miss the way his house smells just like him; a homey breeze of fresh air with a sprinkle of nature. It was earthly and friendly and charming. Just like him. “But it’s your stubbornness.”
To be fair, your stubbornness is one of Harry’s favorite traits about you. But it’s also the one that gets under his skin the most. He admires the way you can stand up for yourself and you know how to get exactly what you want. But he’s noticed that your need for independence interferes with your other desires.
“I can’t help it. I was born to fight,” You sighed out, lying against the couch cushions. “At least that’s what my dad always says.”
“I don’t want to fight, Honey,” The new nickname has rows of shivers cascading your skin. You feel a tingle in your stomach that you get when he says something charming or flirtatious. It’s impossible to fight the butterflies and heart pulses he gives you.
“Me either,” You take a deep breath, just like you did in the shower and just like Harry did in the car. This was your time to be vulnerable, to be first. You wanted to show Harry that you cared and that you weren’t just being stubborn to be annoying. You loved when you guys would close together, even if you consistently told him you would do it yourself. You loved the late-night talks you would have while cleaning up the bar, talking about anything and everything in order to waste time. You were endeared that Harry always walked you to your car in the early morning after the doors were locked just to make sure you were safe. You missed the way his hands felt on your arms when he caught you and the feeling of his chest pressed closely to yours. Friends don’t crave like that. No, because you weren’t friends. You were more and you both knew it. You cared about him and you appreciated his care for you. Shit, you freaking liked him and it took you both revealing your secret identities to prove it. Even if you two haven’t technically talked about it.
“H…”
“Y/N.”
“Everything you told me that night. Was it true?”
There was a weighted beat. One that was long and heavy enough to shatter the earth.
“Yes, of course it was. Why would I lie about that?”
“I don’t–” You turned to face him. “I’m not…good at this stuff. I don’t randomly hook up with people or go on dates. I especially don’t go to their house after sending them a video of me orgasming to confess my feelings to them.”
Harry blinks. He didn’t think you would mention it so vulgarly, but maybe he doesn’t know you like he thought he did. But he would like to. He doesn’t sound like you’re accusing him of doing those things, more of just you warning him about yourself. Harry does extract the little hint of your words and uses them to interrogate you.
“Feelings. What feelings?”
“Well, currently I’m frustrated–”
“Y/N,” his voice of seriousness causes your eyes to drop into your lap. You fiddle with your thumbs like a nervous kindergartener on their first day of school. It wasn’t like you to get so shy. You were a bartender for a living; you couldn’t be shy. But you just haven’t reserved these types of feelings for someone in so long it feels foreign. It feels as though you’re stretching outside of your comfortable zone and forcing you to be sheepish with your eyes down.
“Fine. I like…our friendship. A lot. But this week made me realize that I want more than that. With you,” You peer up at him through your eyelids, hoping not to see his face cringe with disgust at your words. But Harry’s face is flattened straight with nothing but the intent of listening. He even has a sparkle of softness in his eyes that makes your heart lurch out to him. He cared, and it showed in his features. Your mom always told you that people’s real emotions were always revealed on their face, and it was written like a love letter over his.
His patient silence makes you want to fill it with some type of conversation due to the uncomfortableness with your sudden vulnerability. Skittishly, you swallow in an attempt to coat your dry throat. “But I haven’t got much further than that. I know that I’m attracted to you. I mean, fuck, you saw the video, right? I probably didn’t even need the bullet–what did I just say? That’s not what I wanted to say. I wanted to say that I don’t want this to just be an attraction because I don’t think I could handle that. That felt good to say. I think I’ve said “say” too much and now it sounds weird…”
“I feel that way too,” he replies, the smallest curve of his lip breaking the straight line. He adores the way you rant when you're nervous, it is now a new thing he is adding to his list. He loves making you nervous because you give him little details about yourself. “Thank you for finally getting the balls to tell me. Took you long enough.”
You didn’t expect him to say that. You didn’t practice that in the shower! “Me?! You were the one who was avoiding me!” You were shouting, but it was all fun now. A laugh followed as a bright smile crept on your face. Something like a weight felt lifted off your shoulders, off your chest.
“But who said something first?”
“You said you liked my breasts and that you get jealous easily. Doesn’t seem like you were confessing any feelings,” You jokingly roll your eyes as he scoots closer to you.
“Why would I get jealous if I didn’t like ya? Thought I made tha’ obvious.”
“Could have been more. Then we could have avoided this all together.”
“You probably would’ve just stood there with y’mouth open.”
Your mouth indeed falls open as he laughs, his comment causing you to gasp in joking offense. You take that moment to punch his shoulder, but his hand catches your wrist during the movement. Your laughs are halted when you both realize how close you are; your thighs were touching and his face was only a few inches from yours. The whiff of his scent gave you flashbacks to last night when he caught you and you were pressed perfectly against his toned chest. Thinking of his chest made you remember the videos you saw online and how addicting they were to watch, especially after you found out it actually was Harry. Now, you know how porn addicts come to be.
Unintentionally, you lick your lips while looking at his. You don’t miss the way he does the same, glaring at your lips like he’s starving and their his last meal. Your lips have haunted him ever since your first day; painted in red and screaming fierce. The way you smiled was mesmerizing to Harry, but you could say the same about Harry’s effortless charm. It’s been too long dreaming and imagining your lips on his own. Now, with everything out in the open–besides the whole porn star thing, which is for another time–maybe he can finally kiss those lips. Kiss them so well that he ruins any other man for you in the bar, in school, in porn, in life. Staring at your lips made Harry think crazy things. He can’t even imagine the filth his brain will conjure if he sees your naked body in real life.
He’s getting too ahead of himself.
“You smell good,” You whispered, forcing yourself to break the pressing tension. You two were slowly inching towards each other, so he could feel your words float over his own lips like a ghost. He hums at the feeling and the compliment. “Like a forest.”
“How long are we gonna sit like this until I can kiss ya?” The statement made your cheeks blaze with fire and your stomach tumble.
Clearly you were both done beating around the bush.
“I was waiting for you to ask! What if you didn’t want to? You know how important consent is too–”
But Harry doesn’t wait for you to stop your incessant rant. He smashes his lips to yours like he’s been dying to all this time. Your lips mush together, creating a warm, gooey feeling inside of your stomach. Harry releases your wrist and slides his hands down to your waist and carries you over to his lap. You gently bite down on his bottom lip seductively, causing him to groan against you. His rough hands pinch the skin of your hips, making you squeak in his mouth. He uses the opportunity to slide his tongue in, exploring your mouth like its new land on earth.
It’s been so long for you, you can barely remember the last time you’ve been kissed. But you know for damn sure it was never like this. It was never this fiery, this passionate, this wanted, this needed. Kissing Harry was like drinking water after being dehydrated; so obsessively satisfying, you can’t get enough. Until you drink too much and then your stomach hurts, but you doubt that will happen.
Harry can feel himself growing impressively hard underneath you. Even with you above him fully clothed has his body and mind going haywire. He’s not sure how far this is going to go, but he’s also not sure how long he’s going to last. Shit, if you even palm his bulge he might come.
And you thought he didn’t want this.
Your hands around his neck slide their way down his chest as his grip on your hips gets tighter. He pushes you closer, making you arch your back until your breasts are pressing against his chest. The abrupt movement causes the kiss to break, a breathless gasp eliciting from your swollen mouth.
“Jesus,” Harry huffs out.
“What?”
Harry ignores your question. “What do y’want?”
“You…? I thought I made that pretty clear–”
“Don’t be a smart mouth. Or I’ll put it to good use,” His threat sends a tingle straight to your core, which was covered by your soaking underwear. Just the idea of him forcing you on the floor to take his cock in your throat was erotic enough for you to get off of. Actually doing it might make you come on the spot. “What, you like that?”
“What if I do?”
“Then I can make it happen, baby.”
“But what if I want something else more?”
“Say the words.”
You hesitated. As a porn star, you’re pretty good with dirty talk. In the past, you have had no problem whispering sweet, seductive words. But Harry has your tongue tied, brain mushy, and body gooey.
“I want you inside of me.” You were straight-forward. Honest. After this whole ordeal with you two, you figured you both deserved some relief.
“I’ve been waiting too fuckin’ long for those words.”
Without wasting another minute, Harry lifts both you and himself off the couch. You make a little squeal sound before grabbing on tight to him so you don’t fall. When you somehow get to his bedroom, you’re gently tossed on his bed with a smile hanging from your lips. Harry climbs over you and immediately tugs the hem of your shirt.
“Please take it off.”
You did not need to tell him twice.
Harry did just as you asked as quickly as possible because you two were both getting a bit desperate. Like before, Harry loves edging and teasing and being in control. And one day, he’s going to do it all with you. But right now, he just needs to be inside of you, as selfish as it sounds.
Once he flips your shirt off, you’re brisk to clip off your bra. Goosebumps pimple along your skin in anticipation of what’s to come as Harry’s eyes flit over your body. He swallows harshly, mind swimming in a thousand thoughts that were all related to you. His searing gaze only makes you more flushed with heat, elbows sinking into the mattress while you wait for him to do something. You push yourself up and tug the end of his T-shirt.
“Well, what is it? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“‘Cause you’re really here.”
“That is so sweet, but please, fuck me first. I need it.” Maybe his searing gaze also gave you a newfound confidence that allowed you to say what was actually on your mind. His intense stare made you feel powerful. Like you were in control.
“Jesus Christ, we have to fix that mouth,” he growls as you slide off his shirt over his head while he kneels on the edge of the bed. You don’t even get another word in before he’s crashing his lips back onto yours in another heated kiss.
It’s not much different from the first one–maybe a little more sloppy because you’re both getting needy. Both your mouths are sloshed together with sparks tingling on your tongues. Those sparks are igniting flames within your souls, making the stress and yearning worth it. Everything felt worth it when you two were this close together.
With the same passion, Harry forces himself away from your mouth and down your neck. He’s not gentle with his teeth, nibbling with each peck of your skin he passes. Each nick injects excitement through your veins, turning you on more than you would like to admit. You already know that there will be little marks because your skin is so sensitive, but you can’t find it in yourself to care. You actually are endeared by a bunch of little marks rather than a few huge ones. Maybe you can pass the miniature hickies off as freckles…
When Harry gets to your breasts, he wants to stop and stare. Take a few long minutes to just encompass the beauty that is in front of him. But he assumes you don’t want to be ogled anymore, since he was standing still and gazing at you like a teenage girl taking a picture of a pink sunset. So, instead, his lips enclose around your nipple. His tongue glides around it, feeling its pointiness peak until he is satisfied with the sounds coming from your lewd mouth. He does the same to the other side until you’re panting and your heart has turned erratic.
His pink lips trail down your torso, marking each inch of skin with a bit of saliva and a warm kiss. His fingers traced your shape, gently scratching at your sides until you were practically squirming in his touch. You’ve never been this wet in your life and it was driving you insane. Harry was driving you insane.
“So soft, Honey,” he coos when he reaches the waistline of your pants. You help him remove the clothing, so you’re not wasting anymore time because it’s blatantly obvious you’re both desperate as hell. His compliment made your skin tingle and your spine shiver. That nickname would be the death of you, you were sure of it. He made you feel all hot and dizzy but also made you gooey and cared for. It was an intense combination of emotions that you definitely needed to sort out. But after you get his cock inside of you.
Yeah. You could settle for that.
Harry now had a full view of your underwear, which was completely soaked through. But at this point, you’re not even embarrassed as much as you are needy. Hell, you’re even spreading your legs wider for him so he has quicker access to you. Yeah. It was that bad.
“Look at you all wet and drippy,” Harry smirks as he hooks his fingers in your panties. He surprises you by pulling them up, the fabric being consumed by your pussy lips. “Such a pretty cunt. Never even seen you this wet on a video. I must be special.”
“It’s all for you, Harry. Or should I say Daddy?” Now, you were smirking. You were only teasing, but at the same time, you were testing the waters. If Harry’s username used the title, you had an inkling that he had some type of kink towards it, right?
With a subtle grunt, he yanks your legs closer to him and widens them even further apart. He doesn’t even hesitate to rip your panties in half and discard the now wasted fabric.
“Harry!” You yelled, shocked at how quickly bare you are. And that he just shredded your underwear. But it was also kind of hot. Like very hot. He slapped the inside of your thigh as a warning, a stinging zip coursing straight to your core.
“No more Harry for you. Since y’want to be such a smart mouth, when you speak, y’better say Daddy.”
Before you know it, his head is lowering towards your cunt. His lips latch onto your clit similarly to your nipple and suck. You let out a gasping moan, fingers instantly clawing at the sheets of his bed. His tongue delves into your folds and warmly slips into you like you wished his cock would. But you were currently in heaven with the heat of his mouth devouring you like his last meal on Earth.
The way his large hands gripped and man-handled your thighs was enough to leave bruising. But you wanted the bruising. You wanted to feel the pain and soreness of this tomorrow just in case it never happens again. You’re not sure what all of this is going to mean for you guys, but you don’t think this will be the end. No, you think it’s going to be the beginning.
You could feel yourself getting wetter with each lick and slurp. Your tailbone was beginning to ache from arching your back to the absolute max. Once that all-too familiar feeling was rushing towards you like a train, Harry’s mouth only got quicker. He even started spitting on your cunt and watched the juices mix together, and that only made your insides clench at the lewdness of it all. Harry was a dirty, dirty man. You knew he was only showing bits and pieces of himself. You wanted to unravel it all and learn more about him and what he liked. But maybe that was for another time…
Without realizing it, your hands were sewn in his brown curls, forcing his head to remain on your clit until you reached your high. Harry’s groans were muffled into vibrations as you tugged, getting more pleasure through them. Your hips were moving in circular motions, but Harry pressed you down with his forearm to keep you flat and still.
“Har–” He pinched your ass, causing you to shriek and correct yourself, “Daddy, please, I’m so close. I’m right there.”
You rarely begged. On your livestreams and videos, you were confident and sexy and seducing because that’s what your audience liked. It’s what you’ve learned and grown to do. You weren’t used to needing something from someone else so fucking bad that you were pleading for them to make you satisfied. Harry’s mouth was currently your kryptonite because you would do anything for him to get you to the finish line.
He suckled on your clit for a few long seconds before you were coming in his mouth. Chants of his title were echoing loudly in his room that the neighbors probably thought you were dying. You were, just in a different way. Harry was gladly swallowing all your juices , his chin sloppy with all them. When it all got too much, you tried to push him away, but he didn’t move until he was completely done.
“Taste so sweet. Just like honey.”
He doesn’t fail to bring more heat onto your skin, even after just having his mouth on you. Something about the way he compliments you and manages to incorporate the word honey will always get you. He seems to read you so easily, and no one’s ever done that before.
“Knew from the video that you’d taste amazing.”
“Yeah?”
“I can’t believe you sent me that video by the way.”
“What? Why?”
“What if it wasn’t me?”
“It’s my job, Harry.”
“So? You were moanin’ my name. That means it’s for me. You’re for me.” The staring that was occurring between you quickly ended as your eyes flitted away from him. You made sure to look anywhere else but him as you heard the sound of his pants falling. Sometimes, Harry could be pretty blunt in the way he claimed you, but at the same time very guarded. He’s saying that you’re his, but you two haven’t even discussed things that far yet.
“Says who?”
“Says me. Right now,” Harry practically growls as he climbs over your body again, his insane physique hovering over you. You never thought you would actually see the day that Harry–the charming, tattooed, sexy man you worked with–was on top of you. You’ve only ever envisioned him in your wet dreams doing the most sinful things known. God wouldn’t be able to forgive the sins you’ve conjured in your brain.
You don’t even get to retort because you’re only thinking about his cock. You had felt his impressive bulge on the couch and assumed he had been rocking himself into the bed while eating you out. As he kissed your neck again, you would feel his hardness poking at you greedily, but you haven’t even looked at it yet. It was probably just as pretty as it was in all his videos.
He extends himself towards his night stand while you’re caught in your thoughts, snatching a condom. You’re glad he didn’t ask to go bare like most guys do. But “most guys” to you are a bunch of college losers who just want to get their dick wet and don’t actually care about the consequences. If you were to get pregnant, they probably wouldn’t even blink an eye before leaving. But you knew Harry wasn’t like that. No, he was the type to think things through and actually be mature about things. Besides the fact that he avoided you…but it’s not like you were very mature about it either. Maybe the age distance between you and Harry was something that you needed. The college boys just weren’t doing it for you.
It’s strange how so many thoughts can sprout from a simple as Harry grabbing a condom. The bare fucking minimum.
“What’s wrong?” Harry’s voice was full of concern as his thick thumb rubbed over your warm cheek. You hadn’t even realized how close he had gotten since he had stretched over towards the drawer and you didn’t know that he’d already put the condom on. So, again, you missed the sight of his huge, God-like dick in-person. Despite all of that, a ping of appreciation hit you right in the heart at Harry’s attention to detail because you know that those college boys wouldn’t have noticed a damn thing.
“Nothing, I–”
“Don’t lie, Honey. Do y’still want this? We don’t have to,” he reassured, eyes sparking with something that was different from the hidden lust. His voice could be rough and firm, but it could also be soothing and sweet. He had these sides to him that he would encompass. Not necessarily switch like a light but transition into smoothly.
“Harry, I’m fine. I promise. This is the only thing I want right now,” You rested your hand on top of his on your cheek. At that moment, everything felt a little more intimate. A little more love-like. The idea of sex turning into “love-making” currently terrified you, but the racing of your heart wasn’t from fear. No, it felt like it was exciting and anxious but in the best way. “Actually, I would be not so fine if you didn’t put your dick in me.”
“You have such a dirty mouth when you’re blunt, Honey,” Harry smoothes his hand down your body and finds your clit again, rubbing gentle circles over the throbbing nerves. Even though you just came only minutes prior, you continued to get wet with every second you were waiting for him. The sight of his body with all those beautiful designs was enough to get you ready for another. He didn’t even have to work you up.
“Thought that’s what you wanted.”
“I’m hearin’ more attitude than screams of m’name. Let’s change that.”
With a devilish smirk, Harry pushes himself close to you and levels into you. His cock enters you slowly but fully as your lungs forget to breathe. Realizing this, you breathe before Harry can scold you about it. His dick was nearly all in because you could feel the weight of his thighs hovering over you deliciously along with the rest of his tattooed body.
When Harry hears and sees you take a deep breath, he pulls out just to push back in again. You elicit a shaky moan as Harry groans gravelly near your chest.
“Fuckin’ hell,” Harry moans louder into the air as his thrusts become harder, more direct. With just those few thrusts, he already knows exactly where your weakness is and makes it his life goal to hit it every single time.
Harry’s hips move rapidly, pinning your body to the bed as you wiggle underneath him. His muscles are contracting against the pressure of each insane plunge into you while your insides are being reassorted. His size makes it difficult to move, difficult to breathe, yet you’re loving it immensely.
Staring at his arms, you don’t even think about grabbing one of his arms that’s holding him up and laying it on your neck. One of Harry’s furrowed eyebrows lifts up in surprise before that familiar smirk is plastered right back onto his smug face.
“Fuckin’ filthy. I knew you were. What else are y’hiding from me?” Harry’s hand wraps around your neck just as you silently asked. As his fingers block your air flow just enough to make you a little fuzzy, your cunt clenched around his cock. Besides your moans and groans and whimpers, the sound of skin to skin is bouncing across the bedroom like your own personal song. Your anthem. When he releases, the blood flow returns, but he keeps his hand there. “C’mon, Y/N, tell me. What other kinks do you have?”
“I know y’like it rough. Don’t like it when Daddy goes too easy on ya. Do you like to be spanked too? Hmm? Slapped and bitten? Like to have marks all over you so everyone can see?” His brutal thrusts never stop, not even when his breath becomes a little lost. He’s slamming into you like he’s trying to make a dent in your organs, and quite frankly, he just might if he keeps going at the rate he is. But you don’t seem to care too much at the moment. “Do you like people watching? Is that why you post videos of our pretty, little cunt all over the internet? So people can watch you?”
“I don’t hear you,” his voice, raspy and sexy, whispered in a low-threat type of way as his hand rubs over the pulse of your neck temptingly again.
“I g-guess I do like people watching me…” Your voice was breathless as your mind became foggy. Harry did have a way of doing that to you, especially with his hand on your now strained neck. “L-Like when you watch me.”
“‘Course you do. That’s ‘cause you’re dirty. Just like me.” If it was possible, he rocks into you more barbarically until your legs are shaking. You can feel the muscles in your thighs start to spasm, urging to close as you chase your inevitable high.
“Daddy, God, you’re so big. So, so big,” You whined helplessly into the sex-filled air. Your hairs were scratching, tugging, pulling, clawing at everything at the same time, trying to manage all the intense pleasure that was coursing through your body. It was almost too much to handle. Harry seemed to know how to push your limits without killing you, and you’ve craved that feeling for so long. “L-Love your cock. Oh my God!”
“Poor baby. I’ve gotten you all cock drunk; you can’t think of anything else besides m’cock. ‘S that good, huh?” A choppy chuckle elicits from his mouth and wavers over to your ear. Your chest was pressing into his as your core clutched with the sense of near-orgasm. “Gonna come soon, baby?”
“Yes, yes, yes…” You were a mumbled, grumbled mess. You couldn’t think straight, couldn’t talk straight. Harry was impairing all of your abilities with his dirty talk and his magical dick.
No, seriously. Was it like a thick magic wand or something?
Harry squeezes on your neck a couple times, lightly, just to push you right over the edge. Harry seemed to be a quick learner when it came to your body because you were instantly coming then. As Harry felt you orgasm for the second time tonight, he finally let go of his own. When you were coming around his tongue at the beginning of this all, he was having a hard time trying to not come in his own pants. He may have been stupid last night and selfish earlier, but he wasn’t going to do it again. He was going to make up for being a selfish prick and show you how he actually treats a woman. Because you deserve to be treated with nothing less than the best.
After you’re both settled, Harry regretfully slips out of you. Clearly, you felt the same way because you whined as he removed himself. After being inside of you and passing through the gates of heaven, why would Harry want to leave? But even though Harry wants to be as close to you as possible by simply cockwarming all day, he doesn’t want to rush this. It’s new, even if you guys have been friends for some time.
Plucking off the condom and knotting it, Harry waltzes towards his bathroom to grab a towel to clean you up. The soft smile on your face when he returns highlights how grateful you are for his aftercare as he gently wipes up the mess both of you helped create.
“How do you feel?” Harry genuinely asks before placing the towel at the foot of his bed. He briskly moves to his dresser to pick out a new pair of boxers.
“I’m sorry if this offends you, but you have a great ass,” You bluntly state, completely avoiding his question. “But I’m okay.”
Harry laughs as he slips on the clothing. “Just okay? No pain?”
“Yeah. If okay translates to “my vagina is broken for every man ever and both my legs are going to hate me tomorrow”,” You smile innocently as Harry grabs two shirts. He chucks one at you, smiling goofily. It hits you in the face with a laugh before you slip it over your head.
“Good.”
“Good? I might have to take a week off work to heal from the damages.”
“Guess you’ll just have to stay in my bed.”
You roll your eyes before pushing yourself off his bed, contradicting his statement.
“Where are you going?”
“I’m going to my real boyfriend’s house,” You roll your eyes again facetiously and leave his room, rounding the same corner that he did before yelling, “Bathroom!”
When you return, you plop yourself on Harry’s bed like it was normal. It was comfortable. It felt right. It wasn’t awkward, it wasn’t forced. That was the good thing about two friends getting together. After sex, or work, or school, or just a bad day, or even a good day, they could always just talk. As you sat on Harry’s bed, it was easy to joke and make conversation while still feeling that subtle spark of electricity in between you two. That spark was the difference between platonic and romantic.
“We should watch a movie,” You suggested.
“Where should we look? PornHub?” His dry humor made you laugh as you cozied up in his bed. He didn’t hesitate to pull you close and you liked that. Maybe a little too much for your own good. Your heart was thumping in a way that was melting away the frozen walls around it. It made you happy that something in your life finally seemed to be working out.
“Maybe start with Netflix,” You laid your head on his shoulder as the ironic logo appeared on his TV. “I, um.”
“What?” Harry peeked down at you.
“I think I like this a lot,” Harry smiles at you. He could tell from the beginning that it was hard for you to say things like that to him. That’s why it made him feel like such an asshole for storming out the other night. You needed time to process everything he had just told you, but he was too nervous for your rejection, so he left. Even though he’s six years older than you and may seem more mature, everyone makes stupid and selfish mistakes.
“Well, I hope so, Honey, ‘cause I do too,” Even those simple words have the ability to warm and satisfy your scared, little heart.
“But I’m still not taking your money.”
–
i hope you all liked these two :))
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I'll Be Here
Azriel x Healer!Reader
Description: You feel a little out of place at a celebration in the House of Wind and a certain Shadowsinger comes to the rescue.
Word Count: 3605
Warnings: None
Notes: I had this stuck in my head and decided to just write it down. I'm not really a writer so bear with me please. Hope you enjoy!
part of the healer!reader universe
It's hard to keep an eye on how much wine you drink when the glasses get refilled magically. You've heard that this house has a consciousness of its own. Maybe it can sense your growing anxiety and keeps filling your glass in hopes of helping ease your mind a little. The more you drink the more worried you get, the thought that getting too drunk will only put you at a higher risk of embarrassing yourself having infiltrated your brain and pushed all the rational thoughts out. Big gatherings aren't exactly your cup of tea and the fact that this one was personally hosted by your High Lord didn't exactly help ease your nerves.
You've visited the House of Wind before but always as a part of your duties. Though it was because of your duties you were invited to this dinner so maybe you could add this attendance as part of your job. The High Lord and High Lady decided to invite notable people in Velaris for a night of celebrating the thriving city. After losing its High Lord for decades and the war that followed his release, Velaris went through some tough times but with the help of its people - most of them gathered in this space tonight - the city was once again prospering.
As a healer you usually see the High Lord and his Inner Circle in a state of emergency, when your abilities are needed and there's usually no time for formalities or worries. Every time you encounter them outside of those situations you never know what to make of yourself. You wouldn't say you're completely inept at social situations but you're definitely a lot better at handling them when they involve your patients and you have a job to do, something more important to focus on than choosing the right thing to say.
Your relationship with the Inner Circle is professional albeit friendly. It's hard not to feel your heart warming at the cupcakes the General insisted on buying you for helping heal his wings even after explaining that you actually only helped on his recovery process. Every time he drops by the clinic to pick up any herbs or ointments he insists on buying you one - though you suspect it's also an excuse to get one for himself - and when you see him out and about he demonstrates how healthy his wings are, having done it just before dinner when he was in charge of flying you up to the house. The painting the High Lady personally painted for you, as an acknowledgement of your efforts during the war, hangs right behind your desk in your office at the clinic and is one of your most important possessions.
This would be the kind of relationship anyone would kill to have with their employees - friendly acquaintances. But, since you were there for some of their most intimate moments and helped them through them, you never know how to act when you're not doing your job. You can't exactly call them your friends, even putting the fact that is your High Lord and High Lady aside, outside of work you only exchange some pleasantries whenever you bump into them. However there's too much knowledge for you to act completely professional after decades of nursing them and their family back to health. It feels awkward to shake their hands when they have hugged you with tears in their eyes, thanking you for saving their family.
There's also the tiny detail of the crush you've harbored on the resident shadowsinger ever since you first laid eyes on him. On top of trying to walk the line between friends and strangers with everyone else, you also have to be careful with not letting the observant Spymaster find out about the beat your heart skips when you see him. Making things awkward because of a silly crush is the last thing you need.
It's that reminder and the monumental effort you have to make not to let your eyes search for him that has you finally sneaking out of the room, deciding to find a quiet place to sober up. The House had fed you too much wine, and you still had to be flown back down at the end of the night. You'd really hate to throw up on Cassian's fancy suit. He probably wouldn't buy you cupcakes ever again.
You remember some of your surroundings after decades of being called in for emergencies, quickly finding one of the huge balconies overlooking the city. The fresh air grounds you almost immediately. You can still hear the muffled sounds of the ongoing party but the quietness of the mountain lets you get lost in thought. As much as you enjoy the liveliness of the nightlife in Velaris, you infinitely prefer the quietness and freedom only the woods or mountains at night can provide. When it's only you, the moon and the stars, and the world stops.
You don't know how long you sit there for, leaning on the railing and looking into the distance, wondering why your healing abilities work on some forms of poison but not on sobering you up. Your head only comes back to earth when you hear a familiar voice calling out your name behind you. You turn around fast enough to make you a bit dizzy, leaning back against the railing with wide eyes.
“Didn't mean to scare you,” the shadowsinger explained, “I just noticed you were gone from the room.” You spot the way he's bringing his wings closer to his body, making himself smaller, if that were even possible. Azriel made you feel a lot of things but you hadn't felt scared of him in decades, ever since the first time you met him. If you hadn't been already tipsy and distracted thinking about him you wouldn't have reacted so dramatically.
Realizing the spymaster of this court had just found you wandering around his house unattended, you rush to apologize and give him an explanation.
“I'm sorry. I needed some fresh air and remembered there was a balcony around here. I shouldn't have left the party without permission.” You make to move back, showing you were ready to go back to the party but he raises a hand and takes a step closer to you, stopping you before you can.
“You're not a stranger to this house. No need for permission,” he took another tentative step towards you before continuing, “Do you feel better now?” You relax back against the railing, your heart beating fast for a whole different reason now. It's not often you get to see Azriel out of his leathers and you barely had a chance to see him up close tonight, he looks mesmerizing.
“What?” Maybe you didn't sober up as much as you thought. Maybe being this close to Azriel was just an intoxicating experience in itself. Either way your brain was having a hard time catching up to his words and your chest was starting to feel warm.
“You said you needed some fresh air.” There's a glint in his eyes that wasn't there before. Probably realizing that you weren't actually going to be sick. His shadows peak behind his shoulders, following their master as they usually do.
“Yes. It was just getting a bit stuffy in there.” Aside from the butterflies creating a hurricane in your stomach, talking to Azriel feels right. His calm demeanor lets your thoughts quiet. “I might have drank too much because of the nerves.”
The Shadowsinger moves until he's leaning against the railing next to you. His eyes wander the illuminated city slowly before meeting yours. Stretched wings hang in what you assume is a less straining position after having to be pulled tighter into his body in the crowded room. Shadows start rolling off his shoulders, now lazing around him instead of covering him. The soft wind moves his hair ever so slightly, letting a few strands curl around his forehead and giving him an almost boyish look. It's not often you see the spymaster appear relaxed. You decide it might be your favorite look on him.
“Nerves?” Your eyes search his face once again after hearing the confusion in his voice. Azriel has a permanent seat at the High Lord's table not only as the Night Court's Spymaster but also as someone Rhysand considers family. This night isn't so different from every other dinner he shares with his family, just more crowded.
“I've never been to this house outside of my duties. It's a bit nerve-wracking to be personally invited by the High Lord.” As you finish speaking one of his shadows curls around his ear. You've learned they do this when they're speaking to him. The thought of it being about you has your heart speeding up. Only the Mother knows just how much those shadows can see and hear, if they can hear your thoughts. You check your mental shields just in case. They can be as terrifying as they are beautiful.
“Rhys and Feyre couldn't have thrown a party celebrating the strength and courage the people of Velaris have shown without one of our best healers. You've helped more people than we could ever thank you for.” The warmth you felt in your chest before was now spreading up your neck at an alarming rate. You had just been doing your job but being recognized for it felt incredibly rewarding. The fact that this praise came from the shadowsinger was making you especially giddy. “Rhys invited you because you're very important to this court, to us.”
“I am?” The question comes out before your brain has a chance to catch up. You try not to cringe at the surprise in your tone. It's not that you're not aware of your capabilities, the High Lord and High Lady either call for you or for Madja, one of the most powerful and wise healers you have ever seen. But old insecurities will always show their claws, indifferent to your achievements. To think that you could be important to all these extremely powerful people seemed like the punchline to a joke.
“Of course.” His body turns to you ever so slightly. Fingers uncurl as if he wanted to reach out, comfort you. “None of us would be here in good health if it wasn't for you, maybe not at all. You've helped us more times than I can count.”
“I was just doing my job. And I can't take credit for Madja, I'm usually just assisting her.”
“Even so, you've helped us through a lot.” He sounded very sincere, there was no denying he meant every word, but you still have a hard time believing it.
“I just don't think I really fit in here,” you whispered so low that if it wasn't for his fae hearing he wouldn't have been able to make out the words. The admission felt heavy in the air, it felt good to let it out. You hadn't been this honest with anyone, perhaps even yourself, in decades, you must have drank way more wine than you initially thought.
You weren't born in Velaris, but you've lived here for a century. The problem is you've spent the better part of that century waiting on feeling like you finally belonged. You never felt at home in your own court or in your family so it might have been wishful thinking that it would happen here.
“I think like that sometimes too.” As baffled as you were to hear that coming from him, he looked even more surprised than you. It seems he hadn't meant to say that out loud, but the words couldn't be taken back now.
“That's insane,” you try to level your voice after the outburst, "You're part of this family. Why wouldn't you fit in?” You couldn't let him think like that, there was no doubt in your mind everyone here loved and cherished him like family.
Rhysand's inner circle was known for how close they were, they were seen as the High Lord's family regardless of if they were blood related or not. Azriel has always been calmer and you know he likes to keep to himself but you never thought he looked out of place for a second. It's hard to imagine Rhysand and Cassian without his brother.
His eyes were trained on the city under you. His shadows had come back to him, almost covering him completely. Azriel was quiet for a while, long enough you thought he wouldn't even give you an answer. But then you feel a shield form around you, lest someone wanders in and hears his next words.
“Sometimes things and people change while you stay stuck in the same place,” his eyes meet yours as he talks and you search his expression for the rest of the story you know he won't tell. If there's one thing you hate about the shadowsinger is his ability to mask his emotions. His face was the perfect stoic mask as always.
It's not hard to understand what he meant. In less than a decade the inner circle almost doubled and some of the dynamics had likely changed with it. His brothers have found their mates, something every fae dreams of, and he was the odd one out. Even the Morrigan and Amren had found lovers in recent years.
You had heard some rumors he had taken a liking to the middle Archeron sister after pining for the lovely Morrigan for centuries, but she had also found her mate. Not even his methods of interrogation could make you admit you were avoiding the entire inner circle during that time. The hope you had felt upon realizing he wasn't looking at Morrigan like she hung all the stars in the sky was short lived and it only made you feel pathetic. You didn't understand why it had affected you so much. This was just a silly crush after all, you had never considered actually pursuing a relationship with the shadowsinger.
“I still don't understand how Amren got a lover before you.” You had meant to clear the heavy air between you but why your brain decided to use the millennia old creature to do so was beyond you. “I mean she's just…” you continue, startled by your own words, praying to the Mother that the shield he put up stopped Amren from hearing you, “Well, she's fae now but wasn't before and is still mildly terrifying, even after the transition, and you're so-” Wide eyes meet hazel and nothing could ever prepare you for the look on his face. The amusement shone bright in his eyes and in the teasing grin he wore. Just when you thought the shadowsinger couldn't get any more beautiful.
“I'm so?” He tilts his head a little as he asks the question. His shadows start almost dancing around him, like they can't wait to hear your thoughts on their singer. You clear your throat before continuing, trying to salvage some of your dignity.
“You're the Spymaster, the only known Shadowsinger. That's incredible, anyone would be lucky to have you.” Something flashes in his eyes and your mouth starts back up at the thought that it could be disappointment at the impersonal description. Azriel is much more than his role in this court and you can't let him think that's all you see in him.
“You're also one of the kindest people I've ever met. I've seen you worry over every single person in that room, putting their needs over your own even when you're also injured. You always keep your composure for them and give them your support. I've seen you around Velaris too, you're always respectful to everyone, even when they're a bit scared of you.” Eyes drag themselves back to the shiny stars in the night so you can keep going without wanting to jump off the balcony and making an even bigger fool of yourself. “Even as far as looks go... I would bet my house that if we walked down any of these streets we wouldn't find anyone that doesn't think you're stupidly handsome.”
“Stupidly handsome?” The amusement was dripping down his voice at this point. The smile was unmistakable in his tone and you couldn't hold yourself back from watching him any longer. You feel yourself relax at the grin plastered on his face. It isn't often that the shadowsinger shows any emotion at all, and you can't help the pride in knowing you put that gorgeous smile on his face, especially after the somber turn the conversation had taken earlier. You continue despite the warmth you feel in your ears, you'd compliment him for hours if it meant he wouldn't feel sad ever again.
“I've actually heard someone use those exact words to describe you.” You've thought it to be the most accurate description of the immense beauty the shadowsinger radiates ever since you heard the barista use it. Apparently she hadn't been born in Velaris and had taken up the job only a few days prior to serving the illyrian. She had barely held the compliment down long enough for Azriel to exit the building, shooting up into the sky. A few fae present couldn't contain the laugh at the fervent appreciation of the shadowsinger, but the air of agreement shared by everyone was unmistakable.
“I'll have to let my mom know,” there was laughter in his tone, “I'm sure she will be very proud that her son is receiving such compliments.” You hadn't known his mother was still alive which makes you think it's meant to be kept secret. You almost curse at the way your heart flutters. Stupid crushes.
“I'm sure she is very proud of you regardless.” He doesn't give away any hint of what might be going through his brain and it leaves you in a slight panicked fear of overstepping or having said the wrong thing. You could swear you saw a glint of disbelief but it was gone too fast for you to be sure. The idea that the Spymaster couldn't see his own mother being proud of him was ludicrous to you.
The nod he gives you doesn't give any of his thoughts away, but his shadows keep moving slowly around the balcony, never rushing to cover him.
“Why are you single then?” You know he's changing the subject but you don't have time to consider that when you realize it's your turn to answer the questions.
“Me?” You barely register the slight nod he gives to show you he's expecting an answer. If you had shadows of your own they would have wrapped around you like a blanket until only the top of your hair was peaking out. “How do you know I am? Are you using your spies on me, Spymaster?”
“I have to be well informed of what happens in this city,” he searches your face just like you did to him, “And as the spymaster I'm more than familiar with deflection. You don't have to answer my question. Tell me if I'm overstepping”
“No. It's-” you cringe, trying to find the right words. “I just never found anyone special I guess.” Even talking about this with him has your heart swelling in your chest and you pray to the mother he can't pick up on any changes in your heartbeat. You've been avoiding this conversation with family and friends, but despite all this you know Azriel will understand and won't make fun of your feelings. It feels safe talking to him. “I get really busy sometimes so it's hard to keep up a proper relationship, even with friendships. Sometimes people need more time than what I can give them.” You try not to think of all the times you didn't measure up to other people's expectations, when they didn't see you as enough for the trouble.
“They're idiots for letting you go.” You don't know if he's being polite in not mentioning how your heart keeps speeding up or if he thinks you're drunker than you are, but you thank every deity you can think of that he doesn't say anything.
“Some things just aren't meant to be.” You hope he doesn't insist on this conversation. There isn't much else to say and you'd rather not keep talking about how many times you'd gotten dumped. You consider pointing out he never gave you a reason for being single and that he was the one actually deflecting, but you don't want to push what clearly isn't an easy topic for him to discuss either. You suspect Azriel barely opens up with anyone, so you'll just treasure the brief look into his heart he allowed you before.
The rest of your night is spent with the shadowsinger, sitting in that balcony, watching the stars and talking about anything. The next day you'll sit in bed mortified, thinking about how you were doing most of the talking while he listened, but he had seemed content enough so you couldn't have been too annoying. When the party ended you had said your goodbyes to your hosts, without the previous nerves after your conversation with the shadowsinger. Feyre had even asked you if you were alright because she also noticed you leaving in the middle of the party, though something about the glint in her eyes told you she had gotten the wrong idea. Then Azriel had flown you down the steps and winnowed you to your front door - even though you could do it yourself. Maybe you'd have to rethink calling the inner circle your friends.
#azriel x reader#azriel x you#azriel x y/n#azriel fic#azriel fluff#azriel acotar#azriel shadowsinger#divider by saradika#healer!reader
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Careful - Chapter Four
(Dad)Spencer Reid x (Mom)Fem!Reader
Chapter Four: Last Hope
It’s just a spark but it’s enough to keep me going.
Summary:
The entire axis of your world is shifting.
Spencer is not the man you left alone all those years ago, and you don't know how to react to him being such a perfect, caring father. You also don't know how to react to the potential that you could be killed by someone who has already gutted five other women.
Luckily, Spencer is there to protect you. Another thing you don't fully know how to react to - but somehow, you just go with it.
Dad!Spencer Reid x Mom!Fem!Reader. Exes to Lovers. (Slight) Fluff and Angst.
Word Count: 8,800
Criminal Minds Masterlist | AO3 Link | Series Masterlist
Detailed warnings and author's notes below.
Warnings: Again, basic warnings for a Criminal Minds episode - mentions of murder/killing, the reader character is the next target of a serial killer; mentions of the reader wearing a sexy Halloween costume (during a flashback); mentions of gender roles - the reader doesn’t raise Sebastian with strict gender roles (and Spencer appreciates this); mentions of the reader giving birth (not graphic descriptions); some emotional tension between Spencer and the reader; angst because Spencer is upset about missing out on so much of Sebastian’s life; passing mention of abortion; the reader is threatened (in a graphic way) and called whore in a derogatory manner by the UnSub; Spencer is also threatened in a very graphic way by the UnSub; specific threats of stabbing and rape (toward the reader); passing mention of poop (because come on, this is a little kid, and kids talk about their poop a lot); I believe that’s it for this chapter.
A/N: So, this chapter starts off with a flashback rather than ending with one, because flashbacks are important to how information is revealed to the audience, and I think it works here. Idk what else to say about this chapter - I think it's a nice transition into the climax. I hope you guys enjoy it!!
...
Halloween. It was always a time when Spencer thrived the most - and he thrived even more when spending it with you.
It was your second Halloween together as a couple, and Spencer loved that you enjoyed celebrating the holiday just as much as he did. You loved dressing up, you loved all of the spooky lore behind Halloween. And of course, you loved listening to all of the real life facts he had to tell you about Halloween’s history, and things like vampires, werewolves, zombies, and all of the Halloween traditions and how they evolved over time.
You didn’t think before that learning about the origins of Halloween could make it even more fun, but Spencer somehow made it into the most exciting educational documentary of your life.
This year, you had invited him to a house party that one of your work friends was hosting. It would be some light drinking, finger food, dancing to cheesy Halloween songs, and most likely sitting around and talking while roasting marshmallows around your friend’s backyard fire pit. It wouldn’t be anything big, but you expected it to be a really fun night.
You showed up to Spencer’s place wearing a straight off the rack, generic ‘sexy witch’ costume. It consisted of a very wide brimmed pointy hat, dark make-up, and a tight corset drawing attention to your curves, as well as a short tulle skirt, flared sleeves, and black fishnets and black boots to top off the look. He found you irresistible and almost wanted to stay at home. But he was looking forward to the party; he was excited to meet your friends and he knew that the occasion meant a lot to you.
He told you that he was planning on going as a young Ernest Hemmingway, and as much as you adored it, because it was a very Spencer thing to do - you knew that it was very unlikely that anybody else at the party would be able to identify his costume on sight, and that would probably disappoint him. He would be standing proudly, asking people to guess who he was, and they would come up blank because they weren’t in the same mindset as him.
So you advised him of this, and encouraged him to steer his costume in a different direction. (And Spencer - trusting any advice you gave, simply let you lead him.)
You took the late 1800s style clothing he had picked out for the occasion, and some of the makeup you had brought in your bag for potential touch-ups - and you convinced him to let you dress him up as a sexy vampire who had been turned in the late 1800s.
You did his makeup - with some dark eyeliner, that he winced at the entire time, some dark eyeshadow, and some red lipstick smudged around his mouth to appear as though it were blood he had just siphoned from his latest victim. And the entire time you worked, he came up with an elaborate name and backstory for his vampire character. You delighted in listening to him tell you all about Frederic Henry - named after a Hemmingway character. A man who was shot in the military and assumed dead, but who was saved in the trenches of World War I by a vampire’s bite, and then lived on.
You encouraged him to wear his shirt unbuttoned quite a bit, creating a deep V down to his chest that he wouldn’t have worn any other time. Thinking about his story, you even used the eyeliner to create the scar of a bullet wound on his chest, slightly hidden by his shirt - something to hint at Frederic’s tragic past.
(Both you and Spencer got way too into it, but you were having fun.)
You were running a bit late by the time you left Spencer’s apartment, but it was a casual house party, and you knew that nobody was going to call you out for being ‘late’.
You parked a few blocks away, not wanting to drive through the neighborhood with so many kids out and about on foot. It was still early in the evening, and many kids were still out, knocking on doors, getting their candy.
“They’re so cute, aren’t they?” You remarked as the two of you walked down the sidewalk, hand in hand with Spencer as you made your way toward the party among a sea of Trick or Treaters.
“Kids in costumes? Or just kids in general?” Spencer replied with a chuckle, trying to clarify what you had said.
(There was a hopeful edge in his voice, a daring longing in his eyes as he looked at the parents helping their children from house to house. Something deep inside of him that hoped the two of you could have your place here a few years from now.)
“Kids in general are cute.” You shrugged. “But kids in their little costumes are so much cuter.”
Spencer’s insides fluttered - seeing you light up with joy just talking about children, knowing that it might be in your future. Knowing that it might be a part of his future with you.
“If we had a baby, would you wanna dress him up for Halloween?” Spencer asked.
You wanted to fixate on the ‘if’ - to tell him that you thought it was something more certain in your future, with the way things were going. That you thought he would make an amazing father. That you wanted it to be a ‘when’.
Instead, you chose a different part of his statement to pick at.
“You sound awfully certain that our kid would be a boy.” You chuckled. “Please don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who would be disappointed by having a girl.”
That would be a dealbreaker for you. As amazing as Spencer was - he had to be just as good of a father to a daughter as he would be to a son in order to stay in the picture.
“Goodness, no.” Spencer replied, shaking his head.
He held back. He didn’t tell you that he had spent far too much time - hours on the plane rides back home, nights when he couldn’t sleep - thinking about his future with you. He imagined three kids. An oldest boy, and two girls, about a year or two apart each. A golden retriever, a house - he had even picked out which district he wanted to live in based on schools in the area and lowest crime rates.
He knew it was stupid, but he had already been squirreling away money for a downpayment on that house. When you were ready, he wanted to be able to give you everything you could ever ask for. He had way too much time to fantasize, and he didn’t want to admit that to you now.
“Just - it slipped out.” He chuckled. “I would be thrilled if we had a little girl. But - I pictured us having a boy.”
In his mind’s eye, his daughter was so much like you. And if that came to pass, then he would be the luckiest man on earth.
“You did?” You grinned at him, a distinct light in your eye.
Spencer found his chest untightening as he breathed in relief.
“Well, if he’s half as cute as you,” You said, moving a hand over to pinch one of his cheeks, which made him smile and let out a huff, half forming into a laugh. “Then I definitely wanna dress him up in a Halloween costume. Especially while he’s still little and cute and can’t argue about what I wanna dress him up as. Before he starts talking and wants to be that fuzzy guy from Star Wars.”
“You mean Chewbacca?” Spencer asked, wondering which one you were talking about.
“Yeah!” You said. “The big ugly one. The little teddy bear guys are cute, but the big one is kind of creepy.”
“We had an all-day Star Wars marathon, and you didn’t tell me that you thought Chewbacca was creepy?” Spencer chuckled, his mind now distancing from the subject of the two of you having kids.
“Yeah, because you were there to protect me!” You replied, your voice still filled with lightness and laughter. “And I didn’t even really realize it until after. I had this weird nightmare-”
“You had nightmares about Chewbacca?”
“One nightmare! It was only one!”
The subject of children was forgotten, then.
Your laughter echoed off into the night, and you didn’t think much of the conversation.
Spencer remarked on it as a precious memory - as a sign that his savings account was an insurance policy for his future, not a fool’s errand. After the break-up, he thought about it over and over - he wondered where he had gone so wrong, how he had lost you. If you had felt so secure in your future together - how had he lost you?
…
Spencer wasn’t sure how it was possible, but he was growing more and more love for Sebastian with each passing moment.
After he got off the phone with Derek, he went back into the house to be mobbed by Sebastian. Having the boy run into his arms with so much excitement - it made him feel more heroic than anything he had done with the BAU for the past years of his life. So often, when he carted off a killer to jail or when he saw a victim returned to the arms of their family, he couldn’t feel the relief or the calm that JJ or Gideon spoke of. He just felt so empty.
But having Sebastian hug him tight and ramble in his ear with excitement about all his plans for their afternoon - it made his chest swell with a grand importance that he had only gotten a taste of when he was with you. When he was making you happy. It felt like a moment that his whole life was leading up to.
You asked Spencer if it was okay for you to go back to your office and get some work done while he occupied Sebastian, and he could think of nothing he wanted more - except maybe for you to join him, and to spend some true quality time with him and his son. But he hoped that would come later. And this in itself was progress - you trusting him to play with Sebastian, to spend time alone with him while you got your work done.
Sebastian showed Spencer every single one of his toy dinosaurs, and they played with those for quite a while. They also had a tea party with some large bears and dolls present - and Spencer was delighted by the fact that you didn’t buy him gender specific toys. Knowing that this opened up different areas of play and imagination, and allowed for his development to be nurtured by gentleness and caring that young boys didn’t often get in a society so rigid about gender roles.
Spencer really couldn’t imagine a better boy. You had raised such a beautiful, smart son. Someone who was polite, so caring, and gentle.
Spencer was practically swollen with love, overwhelmed at getting to spend time with his son.
His heart felt as though it might burst out of his chest and he knew that he looked fitful, actively holding back overwhelmed tears while Sebastian poured the imaginary tea for each member sitting around the small plastic table and they clinked their tiny plastic cups together in a toast.
Then, Sebastian wanted to show Spencer a favorite movie of his. He rushed downstairs to put it on the TV, and as he was picking it out among the DVDs, he became distracted by something at the top of the shelf beside the TV.
“My Halloween basket!” Sebastian said, pointing to an orange basket at the top of the shelf - one that did appear as though it was for Halloween, with a jack-o-lantern’s face painted on the front of it.
“Mommy says treats are for after dinner. But… can we have one now?” The boy looked hopefully toward Spencer, knowing that he would be able to reach the basket and bring it down toward him.
Spencer didn’t want to undermine your rules. You had done so well raising Sebastian this far, so you were clearly doing everything right.
He crouched down to the boy’s level.
“We should go ask your Mommy if it’s okay to have one.” He told Sebastian, who nodded, and then ran off toward your office with that thunderous urgency in his steps.
He heard a distant ‘Mommy!’ - and a bang that could have been Sebastian’s version of a knock or him downright smacking the office door until it opened. But then he heard your voice murmuring and what must have been a frustrated sigh.
Spencer felt slightly bad that he had sent Sebastian to interrupt your work, especially over something so small. But he didn’t want to lose progress with you and have you reaming him out for giving your son sugar without your permission.
You soon came into the room and went straight for the candy bucket, lifting it off the shelf and bringing it down to Sebastian’s level so that he could choose one.
“I know it seems cruel. But I didn’t want him eating it all on Halloween and puking, so he’s allowed to have one a day, usually as a treat after dinner.” You explained, clearly wanted to lay out your reasoning for Spencer.
“No, no, it’s not cruel.” Spencer replied quickly. “It’s a good idea. Regulating his intake of sugar while not completely restricting it as something sacred or off-limits. It’s a good call.”
Sebastian picked out a small packet of M&Ms, and then you went to lift the bucket away, and he spoke up.
“Can I pick one for my friend Spencer, too?” He asked.
“Yeah, go ahead.” You nodded, and then you added on: “Spencer’s favorite is Snickers.”
Of course, Spencer was floored that you remembered this.
Sebastian picked out a mini Snickers and then excitedly thrust it in Spencer’s direction.
“Aw, thanks buddy!” Spencer said, eagerly taking it with a grin, even reaching out to give him a high five while he smiled up at Spencer in return.
(He was too busy looking at Sebastian with those stars in his eyes to notice the way you were watching the pair - watching all of your dreams unfold before you with an odd mixture of bitterness and affection swelling up inside of you.)
Sebastian moved on to picking out the movie and you went to walk out of the room again, seemingly to get back to work, but Spencer stopped you. Something else was on his mind.
“Y/N.” He called your name gently, and you turned back to him, your arms crossed stiffly.
He was just glad that you didn’t seem so angry at him using your name this time.
“Do - do you have any pictures of Sebastian in his Halloween costume?” He asked meekly, afraid that you would stamp out this request with more anger and defensiveness.
“Why?” You gaped, seeming very confused that he would even ask this.
“I - I just wanted to see.” Spencer replied.
‘Because I missed out on so much of him.’ He hesitated to say. ‘I know it’s impossible, but I want those years back.’
The deep sadness lingering in Spencer’s eyes caused your stomach to clench.
He had really changed. This wasn’t the same man who had been standing in the apartment that night. This wasn’t the same person who had been so callous and stubborn - the same person that you felt you needed to protect your unborn child from.
Maybe this was the man you had fallen in love with, somehow rescued from the clutches of that person you didn’t know who had mocked you while wearing Spencer’s face.
“Gimme a minute.” You told him. And then you leaned in close before you whispered something else. “And you should let him see you eat the Snickers, otherwise he’s gonna be insulted.”
Spencer smiled at this.
Sebastian waved him over then, and he asked which DVD Spencer would rather watch. Spencer ate the Snickers and thanked Sebastian for sharing his treats once again while the boy went through a very detailed explanation of the plot of the films so Spencer would have an informed choice. And then Spencer picked, and Sebastian moved to put the movie into the DVD player.
This was when you came back with a thick envelope filled with pictures and handed them over to Spencer.
“I had these printed a while ago.” You explained. “I was planning on making a scrapbook for my mom, for mother’s day. It’s… basically every important moment in Sebastian’s life.”
“That’s my baby picture!” Sebastian said excitedly, looking over at the pictures in Spencer’s lap. “That’s when I was a baby, after I was born. I was one day old. Mommy said that everyone used to be one day old at some point, but that just sounds weird!”
Spencer’s throat clenched up with tears, and this clashed with the laughter he experienced from Sebastian’s comments.
But as he looked through the pictures, he had a much harder time holding back his tears.
Seeing all of the pictures, all of those moments - it slowly broke him.
The first picture was one of Sebastian wrapped in a very clinical swaddling blanket when he was still so new and wrinkly, only hours after his birth. Spencer could imagine how small Sebastian would have been in his arms. The tiny little newborn sounds he would have made. Spencer wished that he could have held your hand through the birth, that he could have been there with both of you in the hospital during those first few days of his life.
Then, a picture of you holding Sebastian in his nursery when you had brought him home from the hospital - a photo that was most likely taken by your mom. You had such a big, bright smile on your face. You looked so perfect with him in your arms. You were such a good mother.
There were pictures of him when he was more alert - his big, curious eyes looking at the world for the first time; what appeared to be his first picnic out at the park when he was laying on his back on a soft blanket, taking in the world for the first time. Spencer could imagine how sweet his baby laughter would be - what it would have been like blowing raspberries on his soft belly and kissing you under the warm sun.
He continued flipping through the photos - another one of what must have been his first Halloween. He was dressed up as a chubby round Jack-o-Lantern with his little fist in his mouth, drooling around it while your mother held him for the picture.
And then - pictures of him walking experimentally while you held him by both of his hands; him sitting in front of a Christmas tree, opening an exciting Christmas toy that made him beam with a big smile.
Pictures of important memories all throughout his life, all the way up until recently. This past Halloween, he had dressed up as Luke Skywalker.
He liked Star Wars.
“Um, can I use your bathroom?” Spencer choked out.
He knew that he was crying very blatantly now.
His chest was caving in as all of it truly hit him - how much of his son’s life he had missed. He didn’t wait for you to direct him because he knew that he had passed the bathroom coming down the hall. He abandoned the photos in the middle of the coffee table, haste to escape.
Sebastian looked at him with sad eyes as he stormed out of the room.
“Why is my friend Spencer sad?” He asked in a small voice, looking up at you. “He doesn’t like my pictures?”
“No, honey, your pictures are beautiful.” You assured him, kneeling down by the table and gathering up the pictures. “It’s complicated…” You let out a huff, not knowing how to explain it to him. Not even knowing where to start. “It’s grown-up stuff, okay? Just - just watch your movie.”
You stacked the photos back into the envelope, and you hoped that Sebastian wouldn’t follow you as you raced down the hall toward Spencer. You weren’t surprised to find the bathroom door closed.
“Spence,” You called out his name as you knocked gently on the bathroom door.
That gutted him even more. Spence.
Another harsh reminder of the life he had lost.
“I’m sorry.” He called back, his voice audibly drenched in tears.
Your throat tightened up.
This began to shift your entire axis. The man you had left standing alone that night - you thought he was a man who would have never cared about your son. Someone who would have asked you to get an abortion or distanced himself from the pregnancy as much as possible.
But this man - this felt like the Spencer you knew, the one you fell in love with.
He cared so much.
This was someone who could fit into your life, someone who could help raise your son.
And tugging right at your heart, something you wanted to deny - this was a man you wanted to be your husband, as well as the father of your child.
“Spencer, please-”
Spencer opened the door then, and upon instinct, you drew back, wrapping your arms tightly around yourself. Unconsciously, you were protecting yourself.
“I’m sorry.” He apologized again. “Did I scare him? I didn’t mean to.” He asked, looking behind your shoulder as if waiting for Sebastian to appear.
There it was again - prioritizing your son above all else. Worry for him.
Something you wouldn’t have expected. Something that forced you to shift your whole perspective.
“He’s fine.” You told him. “He - he probably just wants you to watch the movie with him.” You said, entirely honest, motioning toward the living room - where the sound of Sebastian’s cartoon movie could be heard playing from the television.
“I’ll be out in a minute.” Spencer noted, reaching for some toilet paper to wipe his eyes with.
You squeezed your hands tighter around your arms, resisting the urge to reach out and touch him. You wanted to wipe those tears away yourself. Spencer’s keen eye went right to this movement, and you felt so caught.
“I should go start dinner.” You said, eager for an excuse to escape the situation.
You whisked down the hall before Spencer could say anything else, and before his mind could linger too much on it - on you - his phone rang again.
It was a number he didn’t recognize, but he had to guess that it was one of the phones from the local police station - someone from the team calling with an update about the case.
“Reid here.” He answered, deeply hoping that he didn’t sound too tearful over the phone.
“Do you like pretending, Doctor Reid?”
That certainly wasn’t a voice he recognized.
“Excuse me?” Spencer squeaked back, having no clue what this meant.
“Do you like playing house, Doctor Reid?”
The person on the other end posed a slightly different question. The voice was sharp and certain, completely devoid of genuine emotion. It caused a chill down Spencer’s spine, and he knew, somehow-
The UnSub had gotten a hold of his phone number, and felt the need to taunt him by getting in contact with him.
“Unlike you, I’m not playing.” Spencer growled in return, already having the profile in his pocket. “I don’t need to play house to fulfill some God complex. I fully intend to spend the rest of my life being there for my son, raising him. And as long as I am here, in this house, no harm will come to my son or the woman who raised him.”
“Hmm…” The man seemed entirely bored with Spencer’s words. “The woman who raised him. Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved. But she did such a good job raising the boy, didn’t she? Seems like she didn’t even need you in the picture, did she? Such a sweet little thing… anybody could just waltz right into that house, slit her throat and take him. He’s smart enough to do well on his own now.”
Spencer knew that it was a tactic intended to get to him, and he shouldn’t have let it emotionally affect him as much as it did - but fuck, it got to him.
“Don’t talk about her that way.” He growled into the phone. “Don’t talk about them, that way, I swear to god, I’ll-”
“You’ll do what, Doctor Reid?” The man cut him off, clearly mocking him. Clearly in disbelief that Spencer could ever truly be violent in response to his family being threatened.
Spencer choked on a breath, trying to compose himself.
“Now, now. Simmer now.” The man cooed, still mocking, entirely condescending. “And don’t you worry, Doctor. Every whore gets her time to be an angel. I’m sure that she’s going to look so beautiful when she’s moaning and writhing in pain while my knife plunges into her guts. Don’t worry, Daddy - I’ll treat her as gently as I can.”
Spencer sucked in a breath, preparing to yell at the man, but then - the line went dead with a sharp ‘click’. Spencer pulled back his phone and looked at the display - he memorized the number so that he could give it to Garcia later, and then, he called JJ.
“Reid, hey.”
She sounded worried.
Any rage pumping through him that the unknown man had triggered in him melted away, and he immediately wondered why JJ had taken on that sad, sullen tone.
Before he could ask, she spoke up again.
“We… were just wondering if we should call you.”
“What’s wrong?” He asked.
“The UnSub knows you’re in the house.” She announced, ripping the band-aid off all at once.
Spencer wondered again how this was possible. But he figured that it was better to exchange information and let the questions naturally arise than to ask the questions himself.
“Yeah, he just called me.” He told JJ. “Clearly with the intention to antagonize me.”
“Wait, hold on.” JJ sighed. In the police station, she walked into the conference room where the team was working and put her phone on speaker for the room before she spoke to Spencer again. “Tell them what you just told me.”
“Someone who I can only assume was the UnSub just called me.” Spencer explained. “It was very clear that he was trying to antagonize me. He - he seemed jealous that I’m here - that I’m trying to take his place as father in the household before he could get here.”
“What makes you say that?” Hotch asked.
“He claimed that I was ‘playing pretend’. He called me Daddy. He mocked my love for Y/N, and taunted me with the idea of him… potentially killing her.” Spencer found those last words particularly difficult to speak, but he knew that the team needed all the information at hand.
“Let me guess, he called you from a blocked number?” Prentiss wondered aloud.
“No, actually.” Spencer replied. “Do you have a pen? I can give you the number and you can have Garcia run it.”
“Fire away.” Prentiss replied.
“503-202-1052.” Spencer told her.
“I’ll call Garcia now.” She said - on the other end, getting up from the table to call Garcia on her cell.
“JJ said you guys have something too?” Spencer asked, still wondering what JJ had meant.
“The scumbag sent us a letter.” Morgan answered. “The envelope was full of pictures. A bunch of pictures of your girl and the kid from weeks back - them at the park, at restaurants, at the grocery store. He’s way farther ahead in his timeline than we thought he was.”
“Yeah, and there’s… something else.” Rossi sighed. “He also included pictures of you and JJ standing on the porch when you arrived at the house. And one of you coming back to the house later, by yourself. In one of them… he crossed your eyes out with a red marker. It’s clear that he sees you as competition. A clear threat to his fantasy.”
“But - how does he know that I’m Sebastian’s real father?” Spencer wondered aloud.
“Perhaps he only sees you as competition because you’re another male encroaching on his territory. Because you’ve spent prolonged time at the house, seemingly to protect her and the child.” Hotch theorized.
“No…” Spencer said, putting the pieces together in his. “On the call, he said: ‘Such a funny way to talk about that whore you supposedly once loved.’” Spencer repeated it perfectly from memory, feeling a pang in his chest at calling you a ‘whore’, even if it wasn’t his own wording. “It was like he knew that me and Y/N dated before and broke up. Like he knows that Sebastian is a result of our previous relationship.”
“That is… strange.” Rossi remarked. “Do you think that Y/N might have mentioned your relationship to a friend, or a neighbor? Maybe… she might have confided in somebody?”
“It’s possible.” Spencer sighed. “But since she’s moved here, she’s surrounded herself with women. A female babysitter, fellow moms as her friend group.” It was something he had noticed in the more recent photos of Sebastian. “Our UnSub is a man - I don’t see her divulging those types of things to him, even if she didn’t know he was a potential threat.”
“Well either way, he knows. And he’s pissed off.” Morgan sighed. “I mean, the wording of this letter… it makes sense why he seems so hostile toward Reid. It’s not just anger toward a random man who’s encroaching on his territory - it’s a personal rage towards someone he feels could actually ruin his chances with Y/N if he’s built up this fantasy of having her in his mind over these weeks.”
Morgan picked up the letter and read some lines from it. “‘I will stab him in the spine, paralyzing him and forcing him to watch as I rape that whore - I will take her as my own while he pleads for mercy. I will show him what happens when weak men abandon their obligations. If Daddy wants to play, I’ll play too.’”
“Is that really what he thinks?” Spencer huffed, unable to hold back his emotions. “That I abandoned my obligations? Does he really think that-?”
“Reid.” Hotch said firmly, cutting off Spencer’s ranting. “Stay calm. What we really need to ask ourselves now is: how does he know so much about you? How does he know so much about your past that even we didn’t know?”
He added this on - seemingly taking offense to the fact that most of the team didn’t know that Spencer had a serious girlfriend in the past. A relationship that had resulted in a child.
Just then, Emily came back into the room.
“Garcia said the phone number goes to a public library on the other side of town.” She announced.
“Morgan, you and Prentiss go to the library - see if anyone there saw the UnSub or if they have any potential security footage of him.” Hotch ordered.
“Reid, see if you can convince Y/N to come into protective custody.” Hotch added on, turning his attention to the man on the phone. “With the UnSub being further along in his timeline than we thought, and seemingly being provoked by your presence, we really need to protect her and her child. Stress that fact to her. We need to keep a close eye on her until we can find a viable suspect.”
“Yes, of course.” Spencer replied, before ending the call.
Spencer splashed some cold water on his face, truly trying to pull himself together before he exited the bathroom.
It truly hit him, then.
This day wasn’t about some soft, sappy reunion with you and his son. This day was about the fact that you had been targeted by a dangerous, deranged killer. And he needed to do everything in his power to protect you from that horrible man.
A fresh, vicious wave of determination went through him - if he had to tear out the man’s throat with his teeth, then he would. He wasn’t going to let even the tiniest amount of harm come to you or his boy. Not today, not tomorrow, not ever.
He put on a smile, not wanting to potentially scare Sebastian with a frown or his trembling fear over what might happen. He tried his hardest to push all of it out of his mind for now as he walked down the hallway and back into the living room - where a musical cartoonish number was in full swing on the TV.
“You were in the bathroom for a long time!” Sebastian commented brightly. “Did you have to go poop?”
Spencer let out a laugh at this. This almost instantly lifted his mood - the fact that such a young kid didn’t have the sense of embarrassment or social constructs in order to know that it wasn’t really routine to ask someone what they had been doing in the bathroom. He easily found humor in Sebastian’s bluntness.
“Seb, what did we say about asking people about their poop?” You called out from the kitchen, clearly having heard the conversation.
(So this was a habit of his?)
“Sorry!” Sebastian called back. Sebastian then turned back to Spencer. “Your poop is only your business. Unless you have to tell the doctor about your poops.” He assured Spencer, clearly repeating something that his mother had told him.
Spencer nodded. “It’s all good, bud.” He said, smiling at Sebastian. “I’m gonna go talk to your mom, okay?”
“Are you gonna watch the movie with me?” Sebastian asked.
“I promise, I’ll watch whatever you want to later.” Spencer replied.
He made it a promise because he wanted to hold himself to it - he wanted to spend lots of days watching films with his son. And playing games, and teaching him things. He promised himself that there would be lots of time to do these things with Sebastian in the future because nobody would interrupt that for him.
But for now, he had to convince you to agree to protective custody so that the three of you could have the safety and security of a future together.
Sebastian seemed content with this answer and turned back to the TV, and Spencer ventured into the kitchen, where you were preparing dinner.
“Hey, Spence.” You greeted him gently. “I’m assuming that you’re staying for dinner? It’s nothing fancy, just some pasta with cream sauce, and chicken and broccoli.” You explained, gesturing around to the many items you had surrounding you - a pot of boiling water, and cutting boards with different vegetables, and one sequestered off in the corner with cut-up chicken pieces waiting to be put in a frying pan that was still heating up.
“Sounds good.” He easily agreed. “After dinner, we need to pack a bag for Sebastian, and you need to get some stuff together so that we can get you guys into protective custody.” He said, posing it more like a gentle suggestion than a question that you could say no to.
He truly hoped that he wouldn’t have to go into the graphic details as to why you needed the protection - why it was more urgent now. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to resort to telling you about the man who had threatened to go poking around in your insides with a knife while making him watch.
Not surprisingly, you completely ignored what Spencer said.
“Unless you prefer Turtle Mac n Cheese?” You said, instantly deflecting away from the topic, holding up a box of mac n cheese that had some cartoonish characters on it. They were green and looked vaguely like anthropomorphic turtles. Spencer guessed that this was what you were making for Sebastian’s dinner - most likely along with having him eat some broccoli, because you seemed determined for him to at least somewhat eat healthy. “I think that cartoon shapes really give it that extra gourmet flare.”
“Stop that.” Spencer demanded gently, taking the box out of your hands and placing it somewhere else on the counter. You frowned at him. “Stop acting like what’s happening isn’t a big deal. If you’re doing this because you’re frightened-”
“I’m not frightened.” You said, cutting him off. “I just don’t think that the FBI needs to be wasting resources on me when there’s people out there who are actually in danger. Or people who have dead loved ones who need answers.”
“Exactly.” Spencer pressed. He lowered his voice before he spoke his next words, though he knew it was unlikely that Sebastian would hear him over the movie playing on the TV.
“The man who sent you those flowers has already killed five other women.” He stressed, pointing behind you, toward the vase with the white carnations in it. He was surprised that you hadn’t thrown the flowers away after what he and JJ had told you. “Five women’s families are waiting for answers about who killed them. And you could be helping us-”
“I can’t help you, though.” You shrugged. “There are no men in my life. There’s nobody Spencer. There hasn’t been since I broke up with you.” You snapped, giving him a harsh glare - as though you resented him for ruining you, tainting your heart and leaving you broken.
The realization shattered him a bit more. All this time, he had been worried that you had moved on, that you were living a better life without him. But you had been just as lonely as he was - aside from the company of a small child that reminded you more and more of Spencer every single day.
Spencer took a breath, trying to focus.
“Just come into protection.” He pressed. “The FBI will take you to a safehouse, and-”
“A safehouse?” You scoffed. “How is that any safer than the house we’re currently standing in? Does it have bulletproof windows and a steel reinforced door? Or - or is it just a regular house with regular windows, and regular walls, and a regular door? Just like my house?” You chuckled sarcastically, moving to grab the cutting board with the chicken, shoving it into the now heated pan with the back of your knife.
Spencer’s nerves were grated on by your sarcasm.
“Dammit, Y/N!” He shouted, much louder than he intended to. “Can’t you see that I’m just trying to protect you?”
“Yeah, and where the hell was that attitude four years ago when I begged you to-” You swiftly cut yourself off, the words dying off in your throat, not wanting to rip open old wounds.
You tossed the items back onto the counter with a crash, only causing more tension in the air. You took in a sharp breath - suddenly, standing in front of the stove, you felt too hot.
You reached for the edge of your hoodie without thinking, and peeled it up over your head. You were wearing a thin camisole underneath, but surprisingly, your black bra being so visible through the thin white fabric wasn’t the thing that caught Spencer’s eyes as more and more of you was revealed.
There it was.
The four-pointed star necklace that he had given to you on your birthday was sitting in the middle of your chest, right where it belonged, glaring at Spencer, taunting him.
It became apparent to him in seconds that you had been wearing it all day. You had answered the door earlier that day wearing that pale blue hoodie, having no clue that Spencer would be on the other side. You had no reason to impress him, quite angered that he was even there in the first place, actually. So you had been wearing it under your hoodie since before then - since the beginning of the day, likely.
You had been holding it close to your chest as something precious - hiding it under your clothes as a secret, just for yourself.
If there was a single shred of doubt in Spencer’s mind that he had loved you more, that he had missed you more since the break-up, it was gone now. You hadn’t dated other men, and you had silently carried that symbol of him, as if unconsciously beaconing him back to you.
When you finally got the fabric off your head, you instantly noticed him gaped-jawed and staring at your chest. You wouldn’t have called him a pervert, because before you even glanced down to confirm that you had the necklace on - you knew. A terrible guilt struck through your gut, like you had been caught stealing something, and you froze up on the spot.
You and Spencer locked eyes for a moment, and his hands quivered with the terrible need to reach out and touch you - though in that moment, standing just across the kitchen from you, he felt a thousand miles away. He had a terrible need to hold you, yet he had never felt more distant from you. He had never felt more prohibited from touching you since the moment you had first grabbed his hand on that very first date.
How long had you wanted him back and said nothing? How many days had you woken up thinking about him, knowingly raised his son alone, and made no effort to contact him?
“I - I have to go change my clothes.” You said, your voice so utterly small. “Can you watch the stove?”
You didn’t wait for a reply before you turned and whisked off again, clearly too eager to escape the tension.
Spencer busied himself with watching over the food - stirring here and there, and starting the cartoon turtle mac and cheese based on its boxed instructions - trying desperately not to think about what all this meant.
When you came back, you were wearing a simple, light tee shirt. And it was easy to see that you had taken off the necklace and put it away somewhere.
…
Having Spencer there for dinner felt like role-playing as a family.
With Sebastian in his usual seat behind the dinosaur placemat, sitting between the two of you - it felt like something out of a strange, distant dream. He kept looking to Spencer for encouragement when he ate his broccoli and didn’t spill his juice, and Spencer stared at you across the table, having that constant fond look in his eye whenever he turned back to Sebastian or talked to him in that sweet, soothing voice.
Spencer also watched you, and tried to make it seem subtle. You noticed his eyes drifting over to your plate, ensuring that you were eating, as he had done many times before. You wanted to make another snarky comment about him pretending to care, but you kept your mouth shut.
It felt so shallow, and plastic, with the supposed threat hanging over your head; knowing that the only reason Spencer was there in the first place was because he believed that you were in danger.
Yet, it felt like something you had been doing all your life. It felt like just another night. Like Spencer had come home from work to this a thousand times; like you would get up and do the dishes and kiss him and then bring him to your bed for the night. It felt like that’s how things should be.
You really weren’t sure if you loved it or hated it.
You were nearly finished with your food and Spencer’s dinner was half-done, food getting cold on his plate while he encouraged Sebastian to finish up - when there was a knock on the door.
You expected it to be JJ again, pressing you about the protective custody thing. You let out a harsh sigh when Sebastian quickly wormed out of his chair and raced toward the door - eager to answer it himself.
“Seb!” You called after him. “What have I told you about answering the door when Mommy isn’t there?”
You raced after him and uncomfortably grabbed him up with a gut full of food, Spencer trailing behind you awkwardly.
“You’re here now!” Sebastian argued, laughter in his voice.
“Here, go with your-”
You abruptly cut yourself off, stopping yourself from saying ‘go with your dad’.
“Go back to the table with Spencer.” You told him, turning him around and directing him toward the man. You couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes, knowing that he could predict exactly what that verbal near-slip was. “I will answer the door.”
“Come on, bud.” Spencer encouraged him. “If you finish up all your dinner, we can have a treat later,”
He hated to promise something you hadn’t permissed, but he knew that you needed the distraction right now.
You unlocked the door and opened it, fully expecting JJ to be standing there patiently (likely having heard that entire exchange from behind the door). You were surprised when nobody was there, and instead, your eyes drifted downwards to a large brown envelope sitting on the step.
It didn’t seem to have any kind of shipping label on it - just your first name written on the front in bright red ink. It made you startlingly curious, at the same time, caused a tight knot to form in your gut. You picked it up, bringing it inside before you closed the door and locked it again.
You brought it back to the kitchen and placed it on the kitchen island, and of course, this caught Spencer’s attention where he could see you from his place at the table.
“Y/N, what is that?” He asked, unable to mask the frantic worry popping up in his voice.
“I don’t know.” You said, feeling slightly haunted by it yourself.
You moved to open the envelope, and before Spencer could stop you, something echoing in the back of his mind - chirps about potential poison or even a bomb - you had ripped it open and spilled the contents onto the counter.
Your insides quaked when you saw what it was.
Spencer rushed over to look at the items with you, and naturally, this drew Sebastian’s attention as well.
“What is it, Mommy?” He asked, marching over and trying to get a peek over the edge of the counter, but not yet tall enough to see - which you were thankful for.
“Did you finish all your dinner?” You asked, leaning over to look at him.
“I did!” He said proudly, nodding.
“Okay, then, why don’t you go into the pantry and pick a cookie?” You said, hoping that your sudden flood of worry and fear didn’t quake through your voice as you forced a smile for him.
“Okay!” He cheered brightly.
He ran off to the large cupboard beside the kitchen table, eager to pick between the varieties of cookies that you had there.
(Again, he was smart - but easily distracted. That you were thankful for.)
“Y/N-” Spencer gasped when he saw the items that had come out of the envelope.
“I don’t wanna hear it.” You said, your voice now quivering with tears you found yourself unable to hold back. “I don’t wanna hear about how you were right.”
You stared down at the items in horror.
It was several photos of you; very voyeuristic shots of you going about your daily life. Several of them including Sebastian when you had been doing perfectly innocent things - going shopping, playing at the park. Even pictures of the two of you playing in your own backyard. A view of you getting dressed through your bedroom window.
One of the photos - a photo of nothing more than the front door to your home - had a message scribbled across it in bright red marker.
‘Daddy misses you. Be home soon. xoxo’
“That’s not what I was going to say.” Spencer sighed.
He saw how horribly you were shaking - he saw the tears brimming your eyes. This time, he truly couldn’t help himself. He stepped around the counter, and upon instinct, he swept you into a tight hug.
Unconsciously, he caged you away from any potential danger with his arms around your shoulders - holding you like he would have when you had a nightmare or when you shied away from men you considered ‘creepy’ on the subway. Your arms wrapped tightly around his waist, your fingers digging into his back for comfort, clinging to him like you would have clung to a life raft at sea.
You broke into sobs, the sound muffled by his chest, and Spencer’s own heart stung - knowing that the true depth of the danger had finally hit you.
“It’s okay.” He told you. “It’s gonna be okay.”
He rubbed a flat palm across your back, hoping to comfort you in some way, even though he knew that the terror of the whole situation was mounting - and it was a horrible thing to face.
“Spencer-” You sobbed out, unsure what you even wanted to say.
“I’m going to make sure it’s okay.” He said firmly. “You know I won’t let anyone hurt you, right?”
It wasn’t even a question in your mind. The two of you had your problems back in the day, but you knew that Spencer would never let any harm come to you.
You clung tighter to him, savoring the moments while Sebastian was still distracted - likely sneaking more than the singular cookie you had allotted him to have, not that you cared in the slightest right now.
If there was anything else on your mind aside from the potentially crippling fear as the realization truly hit you, any room past the fact that you had been stalked and secretly surveilled by a murderer for weeks now; then you might have considered the fact that when you had woken up this morning, you never would have never thought that Spencer Reid, of all people, would be such a comforting touch to you.
Oh, how things change.
…
Spencer was hesitant to let you go from the hug.
But he had to call the team, because this was an important break in the case. And he had to see what kinds of arrangements they could make for you - if they could find a safehouse for you on such short notice, or if he would be taking you to the field office or the police station.
You cleaned the cookie crumbs off Sebastian and took him to the living room, trying to maintain some sense of calm while you turned on a random cartoon show on cable. He got out a puzzle and you helped him with it while Spencer stepped into the other room and dialed Morgan’s number.
“Hey, Reid.” Morgan greeted him. “How’s married life treating you?”
“Not funny.” Spencer replied, his voice short and frustrated. “The UnSub just delivered another package here. More photos. And a message. ‘Be home soon’. It’s pretty clear that he’s planning on making his move soon.”
“Woah.” Morgan replied. “Well, if Y/N didn’t want protective custody before, then I’m assuming that scared her into complying.”
“Yeah.” Reid agreed. “Where should I bring her?”
“Hold on.”
There were some voices clustered on the other end, and then, the next person to speak on the phone was Hotch.
“Reid… you’re not going to like what I have to say.”
“What is it?” Spencer prodded.
“Morgan and Prentiss got nothing at the library. So far, the only thing we’ve got on this UnSub is the fact that Y/N is likely his next victim, and he doesn’t seem eager to break pattern just because you’re in the house.”
Spencer didn’t like where this was going.
“You’re not insisting-?” He asked, and Hotch filled in the blank for him.
“Our only chance to catch him could be… catching him in the act. We could tie him to the other crimes if we catch him breaking into the house-”
“The house that my son is currently in.” Spencer huffed.
“We could bring the boy into protective custody. And leave Y/N there. We know that he never hurts the children, that’s not part of his MO.” Hotch offered meekly.
“But he gets some kind of catharsis from playing house.” Spencer replied. “If we move Sebastian, that might cause him to break pattern, and he could just move onto another victim.”
Then, something else occurred to Spencer.
“Also, we don’t know how he’s surveilling us.” He added on. “If he sees where we’re moving Sebastian, he might go after him.”
He considered that another woman - someone completely unsuspecting, someone unprepared, someone innocent with no way to defend herself - would be killed if Spencer made the wrong choice. It could be more than one woman if the UnSub got away and simply continued his patterns uninterrupted.
This was more controlled. The UnSub seemed determined to confront Spencer.
Spencer felt that was a confrontation he could win.
“We can have unmarked cars posted on every block. And the minute he breaches the house, you call it in. He won’t get anywhere near them.”
Spencer hated that it was their only choice.
“Okay.”
...
Keep reading here: Chapter Five - Brick By Boring Brick
#sundrop writes#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds#criminal minds fic#spencer reid x reader#dad!spencer reid#spencer reid imagine#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid#spencer reid x y/n#spencer reid x you
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Never in my life did I think that re-tweeting resources for SA, and supporting victims would be considered problematic or performative.
I should not have to bare this, but I'm going to tell just one of my stories, because I need you to understand where I'm coming from. TW // Sexual Harassment
--
When I was 15, I had my wisdom teeth removed. I wanted to avoid using the pain medication they prescribed. I struggle a lot with sensory issues, medications and substances made it worse.
However, my surgery was for impacted teeth, and only two days in one of my stitches fell out. I was in so much pain, and couldn't eat solids w/ out pain for up to three weeks.
So, a week into my recovery, one of my friends invites me to their house. They were having our friend group over, it was just a little bonfire get together kinda thing. I took my pain meds a few hours prior, and only half a dose, but I was out of it to some degree, and somehow still in pain.
I was sitting on a lawn chair outside, when one of my close friends came over and asked to sit on my lap. Honestly, I said yes at first, because this was my childhood friend, someone I trusted, and I thought our relationship was incredibly platonic. Then he started to shift/grind about in my lap, and I started to feel things of theirs I did not want to. They made a noise that deeply unsettled me, and I told him to get off, they didn't. It was only when I told them that he accidently triggered the emergency call shortcut on my phone (it was in the pocket of the lawn chair, yes they were moving that much and I was moving trying to push him off) that he finally got up.
I was bewildered, and a bit confused, and also embarrassed that my phone nearly called 911. I claimed I wasn't feeling well, and went home early.
That was the first time someone touched me in a remotely sexual way, but I didn't dare to label it until I talked to my therapist. It made me dwell on a lot of experiences with this person as well. How obsessed they were with being taller than me, how often they'd grab me and force me to see if they were stronger than me. At the time, I was in a friend group of predominately non-men, and they were all friends with this person.
However, when I told them about this, when I expressed the discomfort it brought me. I was brushed off. "He's just like that!" oh "He probably didn't mean it" etc.
I didn't feel comfortable in the same room as this person. My friends would continue to invite them to hang outs. One of my other friends told everyone about what happened without my permission. I started having breakdowns in my classes with him. I had panic attacks all the time. I felt as if I had to continue this façade of being nice to him, or else I would lose my friends of years and years.
I was happy when covid started, because for the first time I had breathing room, but by then so much of my trust was dismantled.
Due to my friends association with this person, and the fact that not being their friend excluded me. I eventually got over it, and told myself I'd grown past it.
Three months ago, this same person admitted to me they hold extreme grudges against me, that they projected their "mommy issues" on to me, and quite literally said the words, "Yeah yeah, you're a woman who's outspoken and challenged me and that bothers me yeah yeah." in regards to that. They said it with sarcasm, like it was something they knew, and their mother was reminding them for the 12th time.
--
I bring this all up, not to make you feel guilty, but to discuss the harm of not supporting victims, not listening to them. It puts them in a position of isolation, and in a position to potentially be hurt again.
So yeah, I'm gonna be a little upset when people say I'm being "performative" about supporting victims of sexual harassment and SA. I'm not doing this because it benefits me, in fact it's caused a lot of backlash, horrible dms, and very triggering memories.
I'm doing it because I was once not heard, and i've sat with Caiti behind the scenes for months watching her lose passion for something she loved (content creation).
I didn't do this because I'm secretly sniveling behind the scenes tapping my fingers praying on peoples downfall. I'm not a Disney villain dude lmfao.
Honestly, this narrative that is being pushed, that people are doing it "because it benefits them" is quite ironic, considering most of the people talked about within the last 72 hours were under Wilbur's weird ass apology doing just that.
I hate it, I hate it, I hate it, I hate it. I hate how people are okay with this narrative, the misogynist undertones of it. I've seen people admit that they didn't like me or my friends the entire time, while simultaneously "calling us out" about this, so I ask you,
Are you calling us? Because it benefits your motives? Your feelings?
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Hi Sanne! I'm not sure if requests are open, but if you're up to it I'd like to request red hood x reporter! Maybe reporter reader is getting too close to a case and is starting to become a target and hood takes her protection into his own hands? ((Including lots of midnight rendezvous and rooftop bump ins))
i love this prompt sm! i've been thinking about a reporter reader ever since i read task force z :) thanks for requesting!
jason todd x gn!reporter!reader. tw: reader is attacked (but they're okay), guns, violence, fighting, jason being both a force to be reckoned with and a big softie. 2.5k words
****
"I don't need protection."
The Red Hood crosses his arms. You cross yours right back.
"Yes, you do," he says.
"No, I don't. I've lived in Gotham my whole life. I can take care of myself."
"Living around and being in the thick of violence are very different. You're already chasing this story; they will come after you."
And what a story it is. The story of the decade, at the very least. A task force of formerly-dead Arkham patients wielded against Gotham by a mysterious benefactor.
It's terrifying. It's dangerous. It's sure to win you your first Pulitzer.
And it all means absolutely nothing if the Red Hood keeps wrapping you in red tape.
Your jaw ticks. "This is my story, Hood. You can't turn it in, so I will. And I won't be scared off by some slimeball."
"Oh, please. You wouldn't even have known about this story if it wasn't for me, smarty."
Smarty. His favorite moniker for you because, according to him, you think you know everything.
Working with the Red Hood has been an unfortunate side effect of chasing your prize-winning story. Not only is he wanted in twenty-six countries (you Googled it) and is a ruthless crime lord (supposedly formerly, but you're doubtful), but worst of all, he's got an attitude to match yours.
He's also built like a tank, which is why you can't just. Outrun him.
"I can't just not publish the story," you say.
"I don't want to stop you from publishing the story. Hence the protection."
"I can't afford a bodyguard."
"Well, it's a good thing I already paid my rent this month."
You scoff. "The Gotham Gazette has a strict 'no armed and dangerous' policy. I'm afraid we all have to leave our gun-toting vigilantes at home."
You open the driver's door of your car, ready to end the conversation here and now. Hood calmly closes the door with his hip and leans.
You glare. "Get off of my car."
"Fact." He holds up a finger. "These kinds of people always strike before the story comes out. They know you're scared and stressed, and they wanna do it before the story gets out. Otherwise, it's obvious who killed who."
"And where did you read this fact? Crime Lord's Digest? We don't even know if they know I'm the reporter who broke into the lab."
"Listen, smarty, I've been in this game a lot longer than you. I know how they operate," he says, finally getting off of your car, only to lean on the hood. Jerk. "It's only a matter of time before whoever's behind this snuffs you out."
"I am not letting a wanted criminal nest in my apartment!"
"That's why I'd be there."
"I was talking about you, Hood."
"Funny."
"I'm not joking. Look, I appreciate your... help." You try not to show your exasperation. "But there's no way I'm inviting you over to my apartment. That'll set off more alarms. If anything happens, I'll call you. Until then, stay away. Deal?"
Hood looks you over.
"Hm. You're awfully comfortable with giving me orders, smarty."
Your adrenaline spikes for a second. But it quickly calms. You've worked with Hood for a month now. Sure, you were petrified the first week, but it quickly dissipated. You've fallen into an odd camaraderie with him.
It's actually kind of nice, having him on your side. No one at the Gazette gives you the time of day. You've become used to having a partner. Not that you'd ever tell him that.
"You take orders so well, I can't help but dole them out," you say, only a little smirky.
"Watch it," Hood rumbles, only half-serious. Probably.
You beam and wrench open your car door, sliding into the seat.
"See?" you say, turning the ignition. "No snipers waiting to take me out. I'll be fine."
He shakes his head and slides off the hood. "Ten bucks says they'll try by the end of the week."
You close your door. "You're on."
****
As it turns out, Hood doesn't need the end of the week to earn his tenner. Trouble breaks down your door the very same night.
You're on your couch with some well-earned Lebanese takeout when your door is ripped off of your hinges. You shoot up from the couch, chest immediately tight.
Your assailant is masked and isn't that typical, giving masked men everywhere a bad name.
You run to the kitchen, hoping you can grab a knife. But you're grabbed before you can get there. You slip on the carpet and trip further into your assailant's arms.
"Keep still so I won't make a mess," is all he says.
You start screaming. He covers your mouth and you bite his hand. That earns you a thump on your cheek, so hard your vision blurs.
Bang!
You freeze, expecting the warm drip of blood and the excruciating pain to accompany it. Instead, your assailant falls to the floor, clutching his ribs. You stumble backwards and see Hood at your door, gun still aimed. He stalks over and kicks the assailant in the chest as he does. The assailant groans.
"You okay?"
You're still staring at the man who very nearly killed you a minute ago. Blood roars in your ears. You think you might be close to fainting.
"Hey." Big, gloved hands hold your face. You flinch and hold the owner's wrists. Hood comes into view once more.
"Are you okay?" he asks firmly. "Look at me, look at me, sweet. Breathe. 'S okay. Does anything hurt? Did he—"
Hood cuts himself off as he touches your cheek, where you were hit. He lightly runs a thumb over what is probably a budding bruise.
Hood lets you go and whirls onto your attacker. He hauls him up and presses a gun to his stomach.
"Go ahead, shoot me!" the attacker shouts.
"If I shoot you, it won't be out of mercy. You won't get a quick death. You don't deserve it," Hood snarls, and you suddenly remember all of your good reasons for fearing the Red Hood.
"I ain't telling ya shit!"
"I don't expect you to," Hood says, and fires again.
The man crumples to the ground, but he's clearly still breathing. Still alive. Hood drags him to the door by his collar.
"You go back to your boss. And you tell 'em that they're fucking with the Red Hood now. And, in case I'm not being perfectly fucking clear through all that blood loss—" Hood grabs the man by his hair and wrenches his head back. "If you come for my reporter again, you'll wish I was kind enough to put a bullet in your head."
Hood hauls your attacker outside. You hear a car start a minute later, and it tears down the street.
You look at your guardian angel, spattered in blood.
Not nearly as much blood as I expected, you think manically.
Your body aches and shakes with adrenaline. You can't even get enough control to move to the couch.
"How–how did you get here so fast?" you ask, staring at your now cracked coffee table.
"I've been monitoring your apartment since you got home. One of the traffic cameras picked up a stolen vehicle turning onto your block, so I came here."
You look at Hood. He seems very collected, all things considered.
"You—how did you find my apartment? Have you been stalking me?"
"Please. Lend me a little credit, smarty. I don't need to stalk you to find where you live," he says, holstering his gun.
"Are you insane?!" you burst. "That is such a gross invasion of privacy! What the hell is wrong with you?"
Hood looks at you.
"What's wrong with me is I just saved your life," he says evenly. "And on that note, you owe me ten bucks. Maybe even fifteen, considering it took less than a day for them to do exactly what I said they would."
Your lip wobbles. You don't know what triggers it; maybe it's your scratched up door or torn sofa or the fact that the Red Hood is in your living room right now with blood on his suit.
The tears form quickly. You can't stop them.
You cover your face but a sob claws out of your throat. Soon, you fall into big, heaving cries.
"Whoa, hey." The floorboards creak under Hood's unsure footsteps. "Hey, I didn't mean that. Shit. I was just kidding about the bet part. Aw, don't cry, smarty."
A hand lightly touches your shoulder. You lean in, but don't dare to initiate more contact. So Hood eases you into a side hug, awkwardly patting your other arm. He's extremely warm and solid with muscle, but his chest is soft enough to rest your head on. He unclips his holster so it doesn't dig into your body.
"I was just kidding," Hood says quietly in your ear. He rubs your arm. "'M sorry. Didn't mean to make y'cry."
You sniff and shake your head. "No, it–it's not that, I'm just—God, I'm t-terrified, Hood. What the fuck am I supposed to do now? They're gonna kill me! I'm gonna die before I win my first Pulitzer!"
You try to suck in deep breath but it's not working. Hood leads your unsteady feet to the couch. You sit, fingers gripping his jacket. Hood carefully loosens your grip.
"They're not gonna kill ya, smarty. I won't let 'em. C'mon, let's have a seat. Where's your kitchen?"
You point, lashes still thick with tears. Hood leaves and returns shortly. A glass of water is held to your lips. You drink it, breathing stilted.
"'S okay. Take it easy. Breathe. That's right."
You swallow half of the water, and he sets the glass down on the coffee table. Hood hands you a wad of tissues.
"This is pathetic," you say, wiping your tears. "Can't believe I'm being nursed by the Red Hood."
"I think nursed is a strong word. But it's more than I usually do for my informants. Then again, they don't usually burst into tears."
"Don't make fun of me. I'm fragile."
"I wasn't making fun of you," Hood says, gentler than you've ever heard him. He puts the tissues aside and rests a hand on your shoulder. You turn into it, appreciative of the weight. "You handled this better than most people would. You didn't even pass out. Hell, I've passed out."
You're sure that Hood is leaving out important details behind that anecdote, like fighting off a hundred men or being swallowed by a whale beforehand. You're grateful nonetheless.
You turn to him, fresh tears in your eyes. "They're gonna kill me, Red."
He shakes his head. "No. Listen to me. Nobody is gonna do anything to you, okay? I'm not gonna let 'em hurt you, smarty pie."
"That's an impossible promise," you say. "One of these days, something will happen. You can't be everywhere at once. Especially not while I'm at home."
Hood tilts his head. "Well..."
"Well, what?"
He rubs his throat. An old injury, he'd once told you. The pain flares up sometimes.
"I could call in a favor. Get you into a safehouse."
"You would do that for me?" you ask. You probably shouldn't ask. Shouldn't look a generous vigilante in the mouth. But you can't help it.
"I can't very well publish the story myself, can I?"
You shrug. "I doubt that. You have your ways. Once you have the evidence, you don't need me."
"That's not true," Hood says fiercely. "I do need you."
Your eyes widen. Hood fumbles for a moment.
"That—I mean for the case. Obviously. I don't have any journalistic links besides you. And I wouldn't want the story to fall into the wrong hands."
"Oh." You have a strong urge to wrap your arms around him. Weird. "Well, um, thank you. I appreciate it."
"Don't thank me yet. It'll take me a few days to get the safehouse," he says.
You deflate. "Oh. So I have to stay here until then?"
Hood is quiet for a long time. So long, you briefly revisit your original theory that the Red Hood is actually an AI remotely controlled by a billionaire.
"Hood?"
You reach to touch him. He flinches, a tiny movement. You immediately draw back.
Nope. Still a man.
"Sorry," he says, hand slipping from your shoulder. "I was, uh, going over options. No, your place is toast until we find whoever's behind this. But, um, it would be possible for you to—if you want to, 'cause if you don't, y'know, I understand, but I—it would be doable for you to, uh, stay with me. Until I get the safehouse."
"Stay... in your apartment?"
"'S not far from here. And it's a hell of a lot better protected than your place. And, y'know, I'd be there most of the time, so like..." Hood clears his throat. "Uh, yeah. It'd be safe. I promise."
"I wouldn't want to impose," you say, nervously scratching your arm.
"Mm. If you're scared of staying with me, y'can just say so. I won't take it personal."
He does kind of sound like he's taking it personally.
"No, Hood, it's not that. I don't... I'm not afraid of you. That, uh, went away a while back," you say. "I just... I don't want to burden you. After all, it's your space."
He makes a sound that tells you he's rolling his eyes behind his helmet.
"Saving your life is important, smarty. Why you don't think so, I'll never know."
You make a soft, pleased sound. "Got a real bleeding heart there, Red."
He sighs. "Yeah. I'm working on it."
You grin. "Thank you for rescuing me."
"Part of the job. If you don't wanna stay with me, I could..." Hood hesitates. "With your permission... I could get the Bats involved. Ask one of them to house you."
"You mean Batman?"
Hood grunts. "Preferably anyone but him, but yeah, if it comes to that. He'll probably get involved anyway. Fuckin' busybody."
"The Bats would protect me? But they don't know me."
"Don't matter. If I asked them to, they would. If that's something you want."
You think. Is it something you want?
Sure, any reasonable person would prefer Nightwing or Batman to protect them.
"I don't want to stay with them," you say. "I'd rather stay with you."
He jerks like you've told him the sky is falling.
"You do?" he asks.
"Well, yeah. I know you, Red. And I know you'll keep me safe."
"At any cost," he says.
That simultaneously frightens and thrills you.
"Then I'd like to go home with you," you say. "If you'll have me."
"'Course, smarty. Anything to keep you safe. Go pack some stuff. I'll be out here. You're okay?"
"I'm okay." You stand and turn before he can see what he does to you.
Yes, it's an odd thing, being partners with the Red Hood.
You're starting to fear that you can't have it any other way.
#jason todd x reader#Jason todd x you#Red Hood x reader#Red Hood x you#Red Hood fanfiction#Jason todd fanfiction#Jason todd imagine#Red Hood imagine#dc fanfiction#batman fanfiction#batman imagine#dc imagine#Jason todd x gn reader#inbox#blurb
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small talk
gojo satoru x fem!reader
summary: satoru has never learned the definition of "small talk" and you don't care to teach him
a/n: i was requested to hold off on the angst, so i decided to comply (very gracious, i know) so take a flashback fic, in which our characters lack all of their trauma (also I'm working on the next actual part and it... might take a bit)
last part | next part
second year, month two.
“c’mon, nanami, you owe us," you're saying, laying across the couch in nanami's room, feet sore from walking around all day.
it's only noon, and you already feel like you've suffered through several weeks of this. your only two classmates siding with each other almost always.
except for now, because you're pouting. trying to convince kento that being a recluse will get him nowhere in life--you would know.
“no, i do not.”
you roll your eyes. “sorry? who sliced the curse in two before we even got the chance to look?" you ask, rhetorically. "oh, you? that’s right.”
nanami shakes his head, but you see his lips twitch—about to give (another) involuntary apology. if you keep up the whining, he'll probably give you his firstborn.
“it could be fun,” haibara adds, chewing on some weird candy he picked up at the convince store by your mission. it smells like a rotted corpse, which is what you told him when he offered to share.
“i seriously doubt that.”
“well, i seriously don’t care,” you tell him, “this is the first time we’ve been invited. unless you want to spend the next two years getting wedgies—“
“gojo can’t even touch me,” he argues, arms crossed. his eyes are unyielding as he stares at you. “and geto is more respectable than that.”
haibara laughs, probably at the mention of a wedgie.
“well, i wouldn’t know. but i’ll find out tonight when we all go with them to… wherever they’re going.”
because you showed up a couple of weeks after the two of them, much to your dismay, you haven't become acquainted with your seniors or any of their quirks. it's honestly unfair. but neither of them seems to care about their upper hand or the fact that you're tired of being stuck around them all of the time.
“i have plans.”
“no you don’t,” you snort. “we’re your only friends.”
“that’s not relev—“
haibara hangs on nanami’s shoulder, smiling at him with his puppy dog eyes. “kento, we have to go. i want to ask geto a couple of questions, and y/n’s already annoyed.”
you huff, crossing your arms. you have a good reason to be upset.
nanami looks at you, then sighs. “i already told you, it was a grade four, it didn’t even look ‘cool’ like the one you and haibara exorcised last week.”
“i’m not talking to you.”
haibara laughs, going to sit down next to you, ruffling your hair. it’s irritating, how nonchalant he is about this. like nanami didn’t steal your mission right in front of you.
and kind of adorable. you lean into him, resting the side of your body against his arm. maybe his energy will mix with yours.
“y/n, i already apologized.”
you turn your head away from him.
“this is very immature.” he gives haibara a pleading look.
you can feel it as he laughs against you.
nanami sighs. “fine. this once. if you ever ask again—“
you jump up, moving beside him to squeeze him into a makeshift hug (which he doesn’t return). “i knew you’d come around,” you say. because you did. nanami is notoriously easy to break, despite his untouchable demeanor.
nanami sighs again. more forlorn. “this is going to be a disaster.”
and obviously, haibara takes this opportunity to move to his other side, participating in the group hug.
*
in all honesty, you’d expected more.
it’s not that you idolize your upperclassmen—if they can even be classified as such—but seriously, after a year they haven’t come up with anything more entertaining than dragging someone’s tv into the common room and playing mario cart?
you figured there'd be more excitement here. a lot more break-ins, and more chances for heroics.
but, you remind yourself, trying to sit pleasantly, this is the first time any of you have been invited. the first time you've spent with geto, Gojo, and shoko without yaga hanging over your break, threatening all of them to be nice. you just want a chance not to be the only new one around. the least educated, weakest.
so you might as well try and enjoy it while you can.
besides nanami and haibara, you don’t have a lot of friends. you didn’t, even before you started at jujutsu high. you barely even had a family.
so you’ll take what you can get (even if it's three people who speak in code and seem to do nothing but fight).
“oh, how’d that mission you guys went on go?” geto asks after he’s beaten haibara at a fourth race. “where was it?”
“harajuku,” nanami says, sounding more like he’s telling you his grandma just died.
“get anything cool?” gojo asks, leaning his head back against the couch so he can look at you upside down. his sunglasses are sliding off of his nose, and you blink.
“we left pretty quickly,” haibara answers, for all of you. “it was just a grade four.”
“they sent all of you for that?” shoko, who is pretending to read some sort of biology book right in front of the tv, raises her brow at you.
at least there’s some common ground there. being the only two girls in a fifty-foot radius creates its own sort of bond.
you’re about to remark something snarky about nanami and his control issues, but haibara is eager to please, so he says to her, “nah, it was supposed to be harder. grade two, they said.”
“been there,” she answers.
geto raises a brow, but his eyes don't move from the screen. “no you haven’t?”
“listening to gojo’s story about that ‘grade one’ he ‘exorcized’ is basically like being there.”
“hey, that was true!”
the two of them give the boy a look, then resume their activities. nanami taking haibara’s place—not without some convincing—and the rest of you watching.
wow, what a life for jujutsu sorcerers.
you laugh at the thought and ignore the weird look shoko gives you.
eventually, gojo makes his way from across the room, his chin resting on geto's temple, and sits on the floor next to you, long limbs getting in the way.
you barely glance at him with your brows raised, then look back to the screen. nanami is surprisingly good at it. and you find gojo kind of... bizarre. he's always laughing, always leaning against something, and just his presence right next to yours feels like an intrusion.
“so,” gojo whispers to you, schemingly. “gabumons better than agumon, right?”
you turn to him, tilting your head. “what?”
“kind of an unpopular sentiment,” he adds, “but true. i mean, c’mon, metalgarurumon? freezing breath? so cool,” he says, like you’re supposed to know what it means. he's got that same grin on--the one you've watched from across the courtyard, shaking his hand, and probably even that time you caught him napping on the dining table.
“…what?”
“satoru, leave her alone,” geto says because this must be a regular occurrence.
“i’m just making small talk!”
shoko snorts. “i don’t think you’ve ever talked small a day in your life.”
gojo opens his mouth but apparently has nothing to say about that.
he sighs, leaning his chin on a hand, and watching the screen again. clearly, his classmates have ruined all of his fun. how is he supposed to mess with you in peace with them around?
when he catches you staring at him a moment later—mostly bewildered because you’ve heard many rumors about satoru gojo, and none of them involve him being a grumbler—he grins. “your turn.”
“to what?” you say, hoping he doesn’t mean the game.
he leans toward you. “to make small talk.”
“i don’t think your turns over.”
“you’re supposed to continue the conversation. answer my question…” he hints.
“you didn’t ask a question,” you say, “just made a statement about what’s-your-mon and who’s-your-mon.”
he looks around, outraged, like you’ve said something completely insane.
you cut in before he can add anything, “and you know that small talk is supposed to be about, like, the weather, right?”
“the weather? you’d rather talk about that than cyborg digimon?”
“…i think so?”
“ignore him,” shoko calls.
but you can’t. there's something about him that gets under your skin. and, it's satoru gojo, he's intriguing in his own, annoying way.
“fine. how do you like the weather?” he asks, tapping his fingers against his chin, smiling at you again.
you pinch your lips together. “it’s fine. rainy.”
he throws his head back, groaning. “see? this is boring. and so is this game, because suguru just beats everyone.”
“i think nanami won the last round.”
he gives you a ‘really?’ look, and you shrug.
“do you guys do this a lot?”
“do what?”
you gesture towards the tv. “sit around and do nothing.”
gojo scoffs. “this is very important, you know. we take video games very seriously.”
you take a look at geto—who’s sticking his tongue out while he handles the controller—and haibara, who’s pointing at nanami’s face and laughing.
you must’ve missed something. not that you've been paying much attention to the game, anyway.
you've been mostly obsessing over your expressions, trying not to say anything out of place, and figure out how to speak to any of these people without sounding foolish.
which, so far, hasn't gone well.
“what do you guys do, then?" gojo asks, sarcastically. "meditation circle?”
you snort. “study, usually. or hand-to-hand combat. haibara and i need the practice.”
“shoko won’t spar with me and suguru can’t anymore after we accidentally put a hole in the gym wall last time.”
“that was you? how do you accidentally break through concrete?”
he shrugs, winking at you. “suguru’s flying frog things are heavy.”
“flying frogs?” you say, skeptically.
“oh, child,” satoru pats you on the head. “you’ve got lots to learn.”
“apparently,” you say, and turn back to the tv, and the debate the four of them are having about character types or something.
but gojo doesn’t move from his spot. he sits next to you for the next hour, and you learn, for the first time, just how insufferable he is.
especially with his smile, which you find yourself staring at every couple of minutes.
*
next part | series masterlist
#gojo satoru#gojo satoru x reader#jjk gojo#gojo x reader#jujutsu gojo#a typical family#jjk fanfic#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jujutsu kaisen#gojo satoru x you#gojo satoru x y/n#gojo satoru fluff#gojo x you#gojo x y/n#gojo saturo#satoru gojo x reader#satoru gojo x you#satoru gojo x y/n#satoru gojo fluff#jjk x reader#gojou satoru x reader#gojo fluff#satorugojo#jjk satoru#jujutsu satoru#jjk#jjk fluff#jujutsu kaisen satoru#gojo jjk#jujustsu kaisen x reader
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How JJK men react when (y/n) gets injured
Pairing: Nanami x reader; Megumi x reader; Toji x reader; Geto x reader
Word Count: 2,4k
Warnings: injury (lol), listen I know Geto's one isn't that realistic, I just needed something with a lot of fluff, don't come at me okay, also might be shitty because my sick head isn't funcional at the moment so have mercy
How Gojo reacts when (y/n) gets injured can be found here
Aaaaand Choso with a injured (y/n) who has blood phobia here
Nanami Kento
You weren’t fast enough. The second the bullet enters your skin, you know you fucked up.
“(y/n)!”, Nanami’s distant voice calls out your name.
You clench your teeth, blood pumping in your ears while a stabbing pain spreads in your guts. This is bad. Very very bad. This is a mission you have to complete together, Nanami and Yuji both rely on you. Fuck, you’re a jujutsu sorcerer, even a grade 1. And then you get hit by a bullet this easily?
How pathetic.
It seems like the weight of your own body forces you to your knees, warmth spreading from your stomach over your lower body. Slowly but surely, the stabbing pain in your guts gets less noticeable, you have to fight desperately to keep your eyes from shutting.
Nanami…It’s not fair that you let him hang like this, hit by a random bullet on that random Wednesday. After all, you still had so much to tell him, experiences to share. What about the plans you’ve made earlier about finally asking him out? The words slip off your tongue with every passing second. No matter how hard every fiber of your being fights against the darkness, it proceeds to consume you.
“Goddamnit (y/n)”, Nanami hisses through gritted teeth when he finally reaches you.
“Yuji, take care of that man with the gun!”
“Hey, you can’t die on me today. Keep your eyes open for me, yeah? Don’t close them. Are you able to stand up?”
So much blood. The whole floor underneath you is covered in crimson, making it hard to breathe for Nanami. This shouldn’t have happened, he is fucking responsible for this, he should have kept his eyes open, he-
“I’m so sorry about leaving you hanging, Nanami”, you breathe out.
His heart sinks, hand frantically pressing against your gaping wound while his shaky fingers try to dial Shoko’s number on his phone.
“You won’t leave me today. I’m taking care of you. You’re safe with me.”
A weak smile forms itself on your tired lips as he speaks to Shoko on the phone in hushed tones. While everyone around him thinks he’s harsh and cold-hearted, you know that Nanami is in fact a tender man that puts the safety of others over himself without blinking. You always admired him for how he carries himself with so much class, looking cool while doing the most banal tasks.
“How is your pain level? Do you need anything? Shoko will be here in a minute, I promise”, he speaks to you in a calm but shaky voice.
“I don’t feel any pain. I just feel really really tired.”
Your eyes threaten to flutter shut again when Nanami’s thumb begins to caress your cheek gently.
“Everything will be alright, I promise (y/n)”, he softly murmurs.
You can tell by the way he looks down at you that he means what he says, the way his calm orbs glister making you tear up.
“I really wanted…to ask you out…tonight…”
Every word rolls off your tongue like a heavy stone while your mind seems to let you down.
“I would love that. Just stay with me, okay? Then I’ll invite you to dinner, I’ll even cook your favorite meal for you.”
“That sounds…wonderful…”
“But to do that, you’ll need to hold on for me a little longer, sweetheart. Focus on my voice, breathe with me”, he instructs you.
“Can you…hold me for a while?”
“Of course”, he replies without thinking, firm arms wrapping themselves around your shivering body instantly.
Megumi Fushiguro
Even though you feel like fainting, you don’t stop running behind him. Damn, that curse did really hit you where it hurts, your stabbed thigh feeling like it’s going to give up on you with every step you take.
“Did that curse hurt you?”, he shouts in your direction.
You should really tell him, you know you need help as soon as possible. But something inside you is too proud to open up. After all, the boy in front of you is none other Megumi Fushiguro. You can’t show him weakness, not in a million lifetimes.
“No”, you lie.
Just in time, you make it out of the building that collapses into itself behind you, a wave of rubble and ashes blowing over your head while you lay down, trying desperately not to groan. You press your hand against your thigh to somehow stop the pain, only to get greeted by the sickening sight of blood all over your hands. You swallow heavy, blood running between your fingertips.
“(y/n)? (y/n), where are you, oh, there you-“
Megumi stops in his tracks, eyes widen in horror when is gaze meets the flood of crimson that now covers the floor underneath you.
“You idiot, why did you lie to me?”, he hisses, instantly rushing to your side.
Oh god, there’s a gaping hole in your thigh – a gaping hole that runs like a waterfall. While you’re not that critically injured, the attack might have hit a crucial vein or artery. And that means you could in fact bleed out within the next few minutes if he doesn’t act right now.
Your toe-curling cry echoes through the barracks when Megumi presses his hand against your thigh with full force, making you see stars while a big lump forms in your throat.
“Serves you right. You should have told me that you’re hurt, you know that right? How many fingers?”
He holds up his other hand so close to your face that you can see nothing but his fingertips, a silent laughter escaping your blue colored lips.
“I’m serious (y/n)! Stop laughing and answer the question”, he grumbles.
“5”, you reply weakly.
“It’s two”, he murmurs, eyes scanning over your so worn-out looking face.
“You look rather pale.”
“Oh, I’m not feeling that great to be honest”, you mutter, ice cold sweat clamming to your skin.
He lets out his breath, gaze fixated on you. It seems like his anger fades away the more he looks at you, shivering uncontrollably while your eyes flutter open and shut all the time. Urgh, even though you’re suborn as hell, you absolutely don’t deserve to feel like this.
“Come on, stop acting up. You’ve had worse.”
You don’t reply. Instead, your hand grabs his arm, holding onto him for what feels like dear life as a single tear runs down your face. You hate to admit it, but you’re scared as hell. If feels like life is slipping through your fingers, seconds play before your eyes like a movie. This is the first time you’ve ever got injured like that. And even if Megumi tries to play it cool, you can tell by the way he scrunches his forehead that it’s looking anything but great.
“I just didn’t want you to think I’m weak”, you admit quietly.
His heart skips a beat, his features soften in an instant.
“Are you kidding? I’d never think you’re weak, (y/n). To be honest I’m surprised you haven’t fainted yet”, he remarks dryly.
To be honest he is surprised that he himself hasn’t fainted, considering all the flood that spills through his fingertips. But he has to be strong, he has to get through this with you.
“Pinky promise?”, you croak, holding up your shaky hand with all the strength that’s left in your body.
“Pinky promise”, Megumi whispers, intertwining his finger with your little one.
Toji Fushiguro
“Oooops my bad, that one should have normally killed you”, the man in front of you mumbles, a cheeky grin plastered on his face.
You shake in pure horror, pain rushing through your shoulder as you hold onto the gaping wound his bullet left in your sensitive skin.
“Please don’t kill me”, you weep, crawling backwards until your back hits the ice cold wall.
Spilling tears take your sight completely, you can’t help but burst into weeping without any mercy. Toji stares down at you, cold eyes surprised by your sight.
“I think I’ve never seen someone bawling this much. Did it really hurt that bad, huh?”
You stare at him through wet lashes, whole body on fire when his frame comes closer and closer. No, you need to run as fast as you can, away from this wicked place, out of his sight.
But instead, you sit still, glazed eyes fixated on his stunning features.
Roughly, he grabs your face, making you weep all over again.
“You’re actually quite cute…Maybe too cute to die…”
“Oh, come on sweet thing, stop crying for me will you?”
His thumb traces over your puffy cheeks, wipes away the trail of tears his bullet and the promise of death that’s threatening in his eyes left on your porcelain skin.
You can’t catch your breath, gasping for air like a fish on land with your hand still pressed against your aching shoulder.
“Sorry ‘bout that”, he mumbles, other hand reaching for your shoulder.
“Please don’t hurt me”, you cry out, flinching under his surprisingly gentle touch.
“I’m a man of honor, I’d never hurt you”, he replies with casual voice.
“Ahh, nothing too bad. A few kisses and you’re fine.”
You blink against the swell of tears, urgently trying to calm yourself down. Aching, fear and insecurity simply take your breath away. But the man in front of you…Despite looking so dangerous, it’s almost as if his face softened, as if he really means what he said.
“Now stop cryin’, ‘kay? I’m sorry ‘bout that shoulder of yours, thought you’re here to kill me or something.”
“I would never kill anyone”, you reply with shaky voice.
Why would you come here to kill him? All of this makes no sense to you. You just walked home from work, ready to take a bath and watch Netflix when all of the sudden, all this men came out of nowhere, dragging you along with him until the man in front of you killed them and shoot you.
“Oh, I’m sure you wouldn’t princess. Just a misunderstanding.”
“It hurts”, you press out, a shocking wave of pain throbbing through your arm when you try to shift your weight.
“Wouldn’t do that if I was you. Let’s make a deal: I’ll get someone to stitch you up and you’ll spend the night with me, huh?”
Your doe eyes stare up at him in nothing but innocence. Oh, you truly know nothing about the cruel world around you, probably not even able to see curses. What a cute little thing you are, too good for the world around you and especially Toji himself. But he just can’t resist.
“And you’re really not going to kill me?”, you whine into his hand.
Gently, he wraps his fingertips around your chin.
“Of course not, princess. You’re way too precious to die”, he purrs.
Geto Suguru
You know that it’s stupid, that Geto is more than capable to look after himself. But the second a curse rushes his direction, you sprint forwards, shielding his body with your own.
Resulting in not only the teeth of the curse scratching your skin, but one of Geto’s curses hitting your head with full force.
You fall to the hard ground immediately, soul leaving your body behind. Instead of pain, you just feel numb, staring into the sound while the only thing that reminds you that you’re still alive is the growing ringing in your ears.
Geto’s heart drops the second you fall to the ground in front of him, naked fear crawling up his spine. No, no, no. This can’t be true. He didn’t just hit you full force, right? Instinctively, he falls to his knees besides you, grabbing your shoulders.
“Please tell be you’re alright, (y/n)”, he repeats over and over, hands holding onto you for dear life.
He knows you are tuff, that you can take a lot. But this…
Please don’t let it be too much.
“I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit you”, he mumbles, fingertips now gently stroking over your hair.
All you can do is stare into his brown eyes above you, body refusing its service completely. God, how absolutely stunning this man looks. Yes, it should be forbidden to look this good. Maybe you should ask him out when your mouth is working again, a nice date in a park or something. His facial features look so delicious that you want to let your hands glide along his jawline, just the way the other hand is doing right now.
“I would love to lick that”, you mutter so suffocated that Geto almost misses it.
Almost. Along with your fingertips that move up and down his jaw, his face reddens in an instant. What has gotten into you? Since when are you this flirty, this straightforward? You must’ve hit your head pretty badly.
“(y/n), I think you should see a doctor”, he suggests while awkwardly scratching the back of his head.
“I think I should see more of you, handsome”, you babble out.
“You hit your head pretty badly.”
“And your head is pretty.”
He signs. Although your sugary words make his heart hammer against his ribcage, he has to remind himself that you’re probably having a concussion - at least. At the moment, he can’t take your words seriously, no matter how hard he wants them to be true.
“Okay, I’ll call Shoko now. Do you feel alright? Does your head hurt? Does something else hurt? Please talk to me, (y/n).”
You smile at him widely, too mesmerized by the way that one strand of hair falls so effortlessly on his striking face.
“What a shame I never told you how beautiful you are”, you blurt out, fingertips grabbing nothing but air in an attempt to get a hold of his hair.
He can’t hold a small grin back. God, how are you doing that? Looking so fine with your arm ripped open by a curse and your eyes roaming around without an aim?
“Look, I’m not the brightest tool in the…toolbox.”
Geto raises an eyebrow in amusement at your creative phrase.
“But I…I mean it…Suguru…”, you mutter out his name.
“Let’s talk about this again when your head wasn’t hit by a curse shaped like a huge dragon, okay?”, he softly whispers, hand still stroking through your messy hair.
“Yeah…S-sure…”
_____________________________________________________________
Now that you've made it this far
#jjk#jujutsu kaisen#jujutsu kaisen x reader#jjk x reader#gojo x reader#jujutsu kaisen nanami#jjk gojo#nanami kento#nanami x reader#jjk nanami#jujutsu nanami#megumi fushiguro#jjk megumi#megumi x reader#jujutsu megumi#jujutsu kaisen megumi#fushiguro#jujutsu kaisen toji#toji fushiguro x reader#toji fushiguro#toji x reader#jjk toji#toji x you#jjk getou#geto suguru#jjk geto#geto x reader#jujutsu geto
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Tattoo (M)
Happy Cheol day- I’m still not actually here 🫡
Summary:
Your ridiculously hot coworker gets a new tattoo
Please god have mercy and do not let any of my coworkers find out I wrote this because it is based in reality but I swear to god I am not actually attracted to Devon he just has the coolest fucking tattoo and I don’t care if Seungcheol isn’t a weeb I needed him to be for two seconds
I’m not joking I should be fired for writing this. Not only because I literally based it off of my coworker but also because I fucking spelled out our rule system and abused the punishment system. If my coworkers read this? Got to the points part. Jesus christ I really would be fired.
Tags: Inked!Cheol, coworkers au, y/n refers to Cheol a lot as a loser but is he?, 7.9k
Warnings: Dubious consent, impact play, omg dacryphilia?? Did I finally join the ranks?, y/n is a brat (can’t relate), lots of swearing like all y/n does is swear, kinda dom!Cheol, hint of jealousy, no protection, creampie, blowjob, cunnilingus, fingering
-
The first thing that you noticed about Choi Seungcheol Thursday at work was his fucking tattoo.
Jesus christ, you had been so strong when it came to him. Fighting every single day not to be into the fucking man.
If you were honest, really fucking honest, you would be able to say that you had been into Seungcheol since day one. Since he had walked up to you a little bit more comfortably than everyone else. Since you two had been introduced on the day of his orientation because Riley thought you two would get along.
She was right, how had she been right? How could she have possibly known simply from his interview that you two would get along? Because she had. You remembered her walking up to you after his interview, as one of the most attractive men you had ever seen was walking out the door, and she said, “You are going to love Choi Seungcheol if he starts working here.”
But regardless of that. Despite the fact that your fate had been drawn out for you like the pages of a coloring book you had remained in denial. Fighting not to find him attractive, because his silly little anime interest had left your coworker Jordan reminding you that you weren’t exactly his type one day when he had spent a straight hour with you giving you advice on working out and literally inviting you to the gym with him.
A Thursday was not the day that you should come into work and see the hints of a freshly drawn tattoo peeking out from underneath your coworker's shirt. And at 3:00pm stuck on register with said coworker you shouldn’t be taking sneaky glances at his arms, trying to see the tattoo better. And for goodness sake the first thirty minutes of your shift when you had wandered close enough to him that you could see the Aquaphor shining on his bicep was too fucking early to have these fucking feelings.
Being turned on at work was a literal fucking sin but that tattoo was the coolest fucking thing you had ever seen in your life.
“Have you noticed anything different about me?” Seungcheol asked, his eyebrows raising excitedly as the guest near him wandered away from the counter. You willed yourself to remain casual as a small smile crossed your lips.
“You got a new tattoo,” you said softly, playing right into his hands. He smiled, that characteristic one you were so used to seeing on his face when he was so excited about something that he just couldn’t keep it to himself. You loved the way he seemed to literally buzz with energy about things like this. Lived for the fact that he was so unashamed to love something so much.
“So, you did notice,” he said pleasantly. He turned his body a little to show you his arm, but most of the tattoo was hidden under the sleeve of his shirt. You could only see the edge of lightning bolts, but you suspected that the tattoo went further up his arm. Maybe onto his shoulder.
Fuck, you so desperately needed to see where that tattoo led.
You had seen Seungcheol shirtless before, and if you were completely honest? He literally looked like he was sculpted by a god. You knew that it was because he put a lot of work into his time at the gym, and that his dedication was unmatched but despite that it had still confused all of your coworkers.
Seungcheol looked so scrawny in his work uniform! Everyone had been surprised when Nicki hissed: “Have you seen the pictures of Seungcheol on his instagram?” And then you had seen the images of him and he looked like a literal adonis.
“Do you want to know how much it cost?” Seungcheol asked you and for once that smile was doing way too fucking much for you. You really, really needed to look away from him. You instead, squinted at the lines on his arm.
“Hmm.”
“Oh, you should guess,” Seungcheol said, running off of your curiosity. You pressed your lips together, mind going to the tattoo your friend had gotten on her arm. A star, some words, 75$.
“Uh...” Your mind was trying to gauge how long the tattoo was. It wasn’t very thick, the lines were admittedly detailed but couldn’t have been that much more expensive...
But then again it was long. All around the expanse of his arm.
“200,” you murmured. Seungcheol’s lips flitted up.
“Higher.”
Your eyebrows furrowed.
“300?”
“Higher.”
“No way,” you said with a laugh. “400?”
He only smiled harder. You sucked in a gasp, shaking your head.
“There’s no way it’s more than 400,” you insisted. He laughed too.
“500.”
“500,” you gasped. “That’s crazy.”
“It’s not my most expensive.” You felt like your eyes bulged at his words, and you didn’t even have to express your surprise. “One of mine was only 250, but the other one was 1000... That one I was overcharged for.”
Your mind was racing to account for this new information. 1000 dollars for a tattoo? You had forgotten just how expensive tattoos were.
Your attention strayed back to Seungcheol’s tattoo and you swallowed hard, still itching to see where it reached. You shook the thoughts out of your head when a: “Hi welcome in.” rang through the store signaling that a guest had walked in.
You tried to shake thoughts of Seungcheol and his tattoo out of your head by busying yourself with your work. Luckily for you, today Seungcheol was working basically in a completely different area than you so there wasn’t much to be distracted by.
Regardless, of that, when you went to the office to get a drink and Seungcheol was standing just outside of it cleaning something your attention caught Seungcheol’s tattoo again.
You noticed that there was a thicker part of the tattoo that you hadn’t noticed yet. Your eyes narrowed.
“Hey... What’s that?”
Seungcheol instantly knew what you were talking about. He hummed glancing at his arm as if he could see it himself, even though you knew it was out of his eyesight.
“That’s one of my other tattoo’s,” he replied. “It’s an anime tattoo. Can you guess what anime?”
Your mind ran through shows that you knew.
“Is it a mainstream one?” You asked him. “Old?”
Seungcheol hummed and nodded, his smile growing over his lips again.
“Is it Naruto?” You asked. You didn’t know why you thought that you could see the rest of the tattoo in your mind when you had never actually seen it, but you couldn’t help but think it was a signa.
“No,” he replied his voice riddled in amusement.
“Uhm, One Piece?”
Another shake of his head and you felt your face starting to warm as you tried to picture his tattoo in your mind. You ducked into the office, your mind still racing. You picked up your cup and when you turned down Seungcheol was standing just outside of the office so that you could see him. Your escape plan completely evaporating with only a few steps from him.
“Is it My Hero?”
“No,” Seungcheol said. “I’ll give you a hint. The person’s powers have to do with lightning.”
You thought for sure that had to be My Hero, but you also knew that Seungcheol had no reason to lie to you over that. You stared at Seungcheol, letting your confusion show on your face.
“You don’t know?” He asked, and to be fair he did sound genuinely surprised. You shook your head, pulling your cup closer to your chest. Honestly feeling a bit embarrassed (shy?) that you didn’t know the anime he was talking about.
“It’s Hunter x Hunter,” he explained.
You honestly did feel stupid. Hunter x Hunter had flicked in and out of your mind so fast it hadn’t really been a consideration.
“Oh,” you breathed.
“You’ve never seen Hunter x Hunter?”
A smile was painted over your lips and you shook your head quietly. You turned your body away from Seungcheol slightly so that you could drink your drink without feeling too self-conscious. But Seungcheol was persistent, he peaked around your body a little.
“I’m surprised. It’s after one of the characters. He has lightning powers.”
You gave Seungcheol another pressed smile, giving up on drinking your drink without him looking at you.
“It really is such a cool tattoo,” you said softly. You put your cup down and shot him one last smile before rushing back up to the front.
You were lucky that day really. He left early that day, and without his presence you were able to mostly move past thoughts of Seungcheol and his tattoo... Stupid attractive Seungcheol with his stupid perfect face and his biceps that you had never thought of before but now were the only thing on your mind-
Cold shower. You couldn’t bring yourself to touch yourself to thoughts of Seungcheol. Not your coworker Choi Seungcheol. Not your friend. Not the dorky guy from work that everyone loved. No, instead you opted for a very, very cold shower and an abnormally early bedtime.
You were naïve, really. Thinking that a ten o’clock bedtime would be enough to get you over your sudden infatuation with Seungcheol... (And that tattoo. That damned tattoo that made you see him as more than just some guy you worked with).
“Your total is 10.69...”
You weren’t an idiot. The man at the counter in front of you had been taking sneaky glances towards you the entire time that you two had been interacting. You knew that he was flirting with you... And to be completely honest you were very aware of the fact that you were flirting back.
You had no regrets really. He was attractive. Ridiculously so, and you couldn’t help but preen under the attention of someone so pretty.
“You’ve got to tell me what you’re doing after this,” the boy drawled. “The weather is supposed to be perfect.”
You hummed, eyes flickering up from his card as the machine beeped at him to pull it out.
“I don’t have any plans,” you replied, your voice light. Playing to the fact that you knew he liked you. Playing to the fact that you knew he wanted you to flirt back. If not for the purpose of actually asking you out at least for the purpose of the thrill.
“Someone as pretty as you?” He asked, and he leaned forward, body slightly bent over the counter. “All alone for the weekend? And I’m supposed to just let that slide?”
You could feel someone staring at you and you honestly just thought that it was a coworker who had just walked in for their shift. You ignored it.
“What would someone like you do?” You asked, eyebrow quirking up ever-so-slightly. “Surely, you have plans for the weekend.”
The gaze on your neck didn’t disappear, so you took a quick glance behind you.
Your eyes caught Seungcheol’s.
Your gaze widened a bit and you quickly turned your attention back to the person in front of you. You tried your best to regain your composure, but suddenly you felt guilty. Like you shouldn’t be talking to the person in front of you like this.
“Maybe I do,” he said. “Maybe you could too.”
You could feel Seungcheol’s presence over your shoulder, and you suddenly felt the urge to turn away from the guy in front of you.
“I...” You weren’t holey sure how to get out of this situation. “I hope you have a good day.”
That teasing smile was still on the strangers lips, he was clearly liking the act you were putting on. He nodded slightly.
“You too.”
The minute the man was out of earshot, you tried to busy yourself stocking something but you felt Seungcheol’s chest brush your elbow. You turned back over your shoulder to look at him, a shy smile flickering across your lips.
“Hey,” you mumbled softly. Your fingers pressed into the counter, and while Seungcheol had a smile on his face you could see something else hidden beneath his eyes.
“You know that guy?” His tone was a little bit more constricted than you were used to.
“I was just being friendly.”
Not entirely true, and you both knew it. Seungcheol hummed, and nodded his eyes darting to the other end of the room.
Suddenly, you remembered the little piece of art that Seungcheol had recently bestowed upon himself. Your own gaze flickered down to Seungcheol’s bicep, the trails of ink make your mouth run dry.
Fuck, yesterday’s shift hadn’t been a wild wet dream about your innocent coworker after all.
Working with Seungcheol had never been quiet really. You two, as aforementioned, had been bonded in a way since the day that you two first met. It wasn’t really anything serious. You weren’t his closest friend at work. You really hung out outside of work but at work he was always talking to you.
He would ask to be put on positions next to you so that he could tell you about his interests and ask you about yours. He was so silly in that way. Always went out of his way to say hi to you. Always treated you like you were besties, with his sometimes lingering gaze and that look in his eyes as if he constantly wanted to say more.
And now? You were the one who was pushing the boundaries of your friendship. You were the one staring too long. The one who was letting your interactions drag a little bit longer than maybe they should.
“Have you seen Seungcheol’s tattoo?” You asked on break as if it hadn’t been the topic of everyone ever since he got it. Your coworker broke out into a small smile.
“It’s amazing,” she mumbled, leaning forward on the table. “Have you seen the whole thing?”
Your eyes were wide.
“Have you?” You asked. She laughed slightly, shaking her head.
“No, but what I wouldn’t give...”
“How far do you think it reaches?” You asked, and your fingers traced subcnociously over where you thought that tattoo might stretch over his body. “Over his shoulder blade? Onto his clavicle?”
“Do you want to see?”
Your eyes grew wide at the sound of Seungcheol’s oh so distinct voice. You pressed your lips tightly together, and glanced over at the man who was suddenly in the break room. You gave him a thin smile as if you hadn’t been caught rather openly fascinating (was it enough to be lusting?) over the tattoo that you knew wasn’t supposed to be leaving you soaked.
“You’ll show?” Your coworker asked. Seungcheol glanced at you and then joined you at the table. He pulled out his phone, seeming to take his time as he scrolled through it trying to find what you only assumed was photographic evidence of the ink on his arm.
After a few seconds that felt like hours Seungcheol turned his phone to your coworker, the screen out of your view.
“Oh my god.” You didn’t want to seem too interested. You fought the urge to crain your neck and look. “Oh my god. You’re hiding all of that under your shirt?”
Seungcheol’s laugh only made you want to see it more. He was so cocky, thriving under the attention she was giving. She leaned forward, the tips of her fingers brushing the bottom of his phone as if to see the photo better.
“That was money well spent Seungie.”
Seungie.
You had known that she was closer to Seungcheol than you. You had always known that. The two of them practically hung out every week.
So... Why did that stupid nicknmae make you bite down on your tongue?
Seungie. It wasn’t even a good nickname. It was reminiscent of that of first year high schoolers thinking their week long fling was something that would turn into a lifelong marriage.
You forced a larger smile on your lips to hide the tight feeling of something you could only truly identify as jealousy down into the pit of your stomach. You were being stupid. You hoped to god that neither of them could sense the energy change from you.
The two continued to talk, and Seungcheol kept that photo just out of your line of sight. You were too stubborn to lean forward and look at it. Too stubborn to just admit how badly you wanted to see this stupid boy without a shirt on.
You just wanted to see that tattoo. Really, just the tattoo.
“You should come over,” Seungcheol suggested as he tucked his phone away, your coworker disappearing out of the break room door. You let your eyebrows raise at the question.
“Why?”
“I’ve been wanting you to watch something with me,” Seungcheol replied. “And I think you want something from me too.”
You really ought to fake it better. You both had the same little smile across your lips. The ones that you always used with one another.
It was such a simple invite. Innocent. But then again it was always innocent between you and Seungcheol, wasn’t it? You two held the sort of banter that you always loved to have with people. Pure chemistry. The ability to easily fire back at one another, never a dull moment in the conversation, always harboring interest for whatever you two were talking about.
You nodded because, of course you did.
Seungcheol’s apartment was different than you had imagined.
He was a geek, wasn’t he? Always bragging about his room and how amazing it was. His you should come see someday’s had always felt like empty invitations. But now you were here. It was different. Good different.
Seungcheol turned on a show that he had spoken to you about many times before. A show you had always assured him you would watch. A show you never actually did turn on.
The characters began to dance across the screen, and you let your gaze focus on it. You two were silent for a little. He was wandering around his room and you were pretending like you didn’t desperately need him to take his shirt off.
“You really haven’t seen this show,” Seungcheol said, and you let your attention turn to him. He was leaning against his dresser, watching you intently. You pretended like you two hadn’t had this conversation a million times before.
“I haven’t,” you agreed.
“So hard to believe,” he breathed. He shook his head slightly, his hair brushing the tips of his ears. You turned your attention back to the television. Seungcheol rummaged around for a little longer before finally he took a seat next to you on his bed.
He kept a distance between you two.
You risked a glance at him, your eyes going to his arm, to that stupid tattoo that was still hidden beneath his stupid shirt.
“Come here,” Seungcheol mumbled softly. You scooted closer to him, your eyes focused on his tattoo. “You want to see it?”
You nodded, still not looking at him.
“If that’s okay.”
He breathed a laugh.
“I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
You glanced at Seungcheol, eyebrows furrowing.
“I don’t have any tattoos.”
He just hummed his response, and with one hand dragged his shirt off over his head.
Finally.
To your delight, the tattoo was equally just as amazing as you had imagined, and more amazing than you had imagined. The black bolts of lightning inched up his bicep, up onto his shoulder. One of the bolts spreading across his clavicle. You felt your mouth gape stupidly as you looked at him, show completely forgotten in the background.
“You can touch it if you want.”
You didn’t need prompting more. You reached forward, fingers lightly running across the lightning streaks. As you did, Seungcheol leaned forward, his hand placed directly between your thighs. You didn’t pay too much attention, but his hot breath on your neck was sending heat right through your core.
“I would have thought you would be disinterested in my tattoo by now,” Seungcheol whispered, as his spoke his fingers inched forward, his thumb begginning to rub small circles into your thigh.
You swallowed hard, eyes flickering to Seungcheol.
“Nu-uh,” you murmured. “I hadn’t gotten to see it yet.”
You felt yourself inching closer to Seungcheol, silently urging his hand forward. Seungcheol got the idea and pressed his thumb over your clit through your panties. You bit down on your lip to prevent a whine from leaving your lips, and instead focused back on his tattoo, running your fingers up the length of it to where it spread over his clavicle.
His fingers pushed against your underwear, so that it was just slightly pressed inside of you, and then he began to rub up and down between your folds.
“You’ve been driving me crazy,” he mumbled. “It really took me getting a tattoo to get your attention, huh? 500 dollars later and you were finally looking at me the way I wanted you to.”
The confession caught you off guard but as you went to question him his fingers were dipping beneath your underwear. “So wet,” he breathed, so quietly that you knew it wasn’t for you.
He pressed two of his fingers into you and this time you couldn’t hold back the whimper that left your lips. Seungcheol’s response was immediate, a quiet shushing that just made you need his touch anymore.
“It’s okay, y/n,” he said softly. “Are you going to be good for me?”
A whine bubbled up in your throat and you nodded sharply. He practically purred in your ear.
“Then just hold on, won’t you?” He asked softly. You nodded again, your fingers tightening a little around Seungcheol’s bicep. Normally, you weren’t one so quick to silence... Or obedience for that matter, but your skin was burning. You couldn’t imagine doing anything but listen to him in this moment.
Seungcheol’s fingers dipped deep inside of you, his fingers curling once he was buried to his knuckles. You couldn’t help the way that your head fell forward, your nose brushing the nape of his neck.
“You sound so pretty for me,” Seungcheol mumbled, making you only just then realize that this whole time you had been letting the tiniest whimpers leave your lips. You pressed your lips closed tightly, tilting your head so that your lips brushed his neck. “No, no.”
Seungcheol’s head tilted down, his lips brushing your forehead.
“You don’t get to hide your little moans from me,” he mumbled. He set a slow, lazy pace really, of fucking his fingers in and out of you. His thumb brushed your clit, and you bit down hard on your tongue, determined to not humiliate yourself even more.
You had come here to watch a show with him... To see his tattoo and now you were being fingered on his bed and to be completely honest the embarrassment was dulled by the pleasure running through your body.
No matter how deep Seungcheol drove his fingers into you, it didn’t feel like nearly enough. Seungcheol’s fingers stilled deep inside of you, and you ignored it, thinking that it was just a passing tease. Seconds passed. A minute.
“S-Seungcheol.”
Seungcheol hummed, his lips fluttering across your forehead. You tried not to look at him. You fought it in yourself not to wriggle your hips in desperation.
“Seungcheol,” you pressed, your tone bordering upon begging. A small laugh vibrated through Seungcheol’s body. He pulled his fingers out of you and then pushed them back in. Surprisingly fast, surprisingly deep. You mewled, your head falling back a little.
Seungcheol’s head dipped down, and his lips brushed yours.
“How far are you going to let this go?” He asked you. “You gonna cum around my fingers?”
You pressed forward, chasing Seungcheol’s lips but he pulled away. Stupid smile spread on his lips. Stupid lips pressed to your cheek.
“I’m n-not gonna-” Your words faltered. Your body burning. You tilted your head up so that Seungcheol’s lips trailed down your cheek, across your jawline, and down to your neck. His lips pressed into a small kiss.
“You want a third?” Had his voice always been so hypnotic? You nodded, too eagerly. His lips brushed up and down your neck as you moved. “I need to hear your words. You’re so quiet when I’ve got my fingers fucking you open.”
“Fuck,” you whined, but you refused to give in.
“That’s not a very good word,” Seungcheol chastised. “What would they say if we were at work right now, hm?”
You were silent, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip.
“Now, now,” his voice came, and his fingers stopped. “I asked you a question yeah? Aren’t you my superior? Why don’t you remind me of the rules.”
Oh god, that shouldn’t be so hot.
“It’s a point,” you whispered back. Seungcheol hummed again.
“And how many points before our first punishment?”
A shiver ran through your body.
“Six.”
“Let’s hope you don’t get to that point.”
Seungcheol pushed a third finger into you, and it sent a slight burn through your body. Seungcheol groaned as he pushed his fingers into you, no doubt feeling how tight you were squeezing him.
“Baby-” Oh god. “If you’re squeezing my fingers like that... I don’t really know that I’ll be able to fit.”
You swallowed and lifted your head, your gaze meeting Seungcheol’s. Your mouth was still closed tight. You were still trying so hard to be quiet. But your eyes were wide, your curiosity at his words were undeniable.
“Which do you want more?” He asked you softly. You refused to answer. “You really need to learn to use your words. Your pretty little cunt is sobbing for attention, but those eyes are begging me to take my clothes off.”
Your fingers splayed over Seungcheol’s bicep, your eyes going back to the dark lines etched over him.
“Clothes off,” you breathed.
“Good choice,” he purred.
He pulled his fingers from you and got to his feet so smoothly that it wasn’t like he was moving at all. You let out a vocal protest towards the loss of him, but it only made him laugh at your expense.
“There’s your voice,” he teased. You could see your wetness glistening on Seungcheol’s fingers as his fingers hooked on the waistband of his pants. He pulled them down, and then almost immediately after, his boxers were dropped to the ground.
You slapped your hand over your mouth to muffle the strangled moan that left your lips.
Never in your six months of working with Choi Seungcheol had you imagined that he would be fucking hung, and yet here you were looking at his (pardon the lack of imaginative description) monster energy drink sized cock in both girth and length.
You had never been with anyone with a cock as big as his... You had never seen a cock as big as his.
You hadn’t even known that a dick his size was even real.
“I’m getting a bit self-conscious,” Seungcheol said, his voice dragging you back to reality. Your face reddened but you didn’t move your hand from your mouth. Seungcheol didn’t seem to care, not really. He walked over to you, his fingers balling in your shirt. “What do you want?”
You knew what you wanted from Seungcheol now more than you ever had before.
“I want you,” you whispered back. Seungcheol’s eyes glinted.
“I like it went you use your words,” he slurred. You let your hands fall lax at your sides, giving Seungcheol the room to pull your shirt over your head. Given the opportunity Seungcheol was fast with his hands. Your shirt and bra were tossed aside to the floor in moments, and you were helping him wiggle you out of your underwear immediately after.
You were hoping that sense of urgency would continue, but just as soon as your clothes were off to the side, Seungcheol was trapping you between his arms, staring down at you with an expression on his face that made you wiggle. His eyes flitted down your body, and as he inspected you one of his hands came between your thighs. He tapped your inner thigh.
“Let me see,” he mumbled. You obediently let your legs spread, and Seungcheol took that as an opportunity to slide down your body, the pads of his hands pressed even further at your inner thighs and his gaze fully settled between your legs.
A whine was ripped from your body, and it made Seungcheol’s eyes flutter closed for a brief second. But then, his eyes were open again.
“You’re so fucking wet,” Seungcheol said, his breath making you clamp around absolutely fucking nothing like a common whore. “Is this all for me?”
His thumb grazed between the folds of your pussy, and he spread you out so that he could see you better.
“’s fucking embarrassing,” you murmured out. Seungcheol raised an eyebrow in your direction.
“Two points.”
You let your head fall back into the pillow.
“Embarrassing,” you reasserted.
“It’s not embarrassing,” Seungcheol denied. You felt something brush between your folds and you glanced down in time to see the tip of Seungcheol’s nose raising his tongue darting over you. Another groan from him. “It’s only natural to make such a mess when someone is touching you like this. And you like it when I touch you like this don’t you?”
You nodded, and he pressed a kiss to your core.
“Words.”
“Yes,” you cried out, desperate for more. This time you felt his laugh vibrating through your core. He was messy down there, like he was in his own little world. He lapped at your pussy like it was water, literally fucking animalistic. His fingers dug into your thighs as he pressed your legs wide open for him. Pressing so hard that you felt like you were going to break.
Seungcheol didn’t care for that. He didn’t seem worried at all that he would break you. Instead, he was lost between your thighs. A glance down at him in between your little moans and you could see that his face was slick with wetness.
“You’re making such a mess,” Seungcheol mumbled into you as if it was your fault that you were like this. “Getting yourself all over my face. All over my bed...”
You wiggled under his touch.
“It’s not fair,” you whined. “You get to touch me all you want... I w-want to touch you.”
“Is that so?”
He didn’t have any right to be so cocky.
“Want to taste your dick,” you admitted, your words betraying the fact that your thoughts were just about as reliable as Nick Carraway’s words in the Great Gatsby.
He did have the right to be so cocky. At this point you didn’t think you would be able to do anything before getting his cock pressed into you. Whether in your mouth, or your pussy? You didn’t care. Just needed his cock to be somewhere inside of you.
“Seungcheol,” you pressed, annoyance vibrating through your body. Seungcheol hummed against you. Fucking bratty. You lowered your hand to his hair, tugging him off you sharply. He looked up at you, his eyes dark despite the general amusement riddled there. “Want to taste your dick.”
Seungcheol slapped your thigh, making you cry out in surprise and loosen your grip in his hair.
“Not very nice,” he chided. “You better put your money where your mouth is.”
Seungcheol pulled off of the bed, dragging you to the edge with him by a single hand on your thigh. When you got to the edge you pushed yourself off the bed, your knees hitting the ground.
You wrapped both of your hands around Seungcheol’s dick. You gave him an experimental tug, dragging your hands all the way up to the tip of his cock. You let your thumb flicker over his slit, teasing it until precum dampened it.
You pressed forward, your tongue darting to his tip, tasting the salty liquid.
Unlike you, Seungcheol wasn’t trying to stay quiet. A breathy moan escaped his lips, and he reached forward, both of his hands scooping your head in his hands. He pressed your head forward, slowly easing your mouth onto him.
You let your lips give way to girth of his dick as he pushed your head forward, your fingers tightening on his hips in anticipation.
“Your mouth is so warm,” Seungcheol mumbled softly. You let your gaze raise up to Seungcheol, and he was peering down at you from under his pretty long lashes. You gagged a little around Seungcheol’s dick and his movements came to a hault. You struggled to catch your breath, grasp tightening again but not pushing him off.
Seungcheol’s fingers stroked your head until finally you caught your breath and you pressed yourself forward without any prompting from him and he got the idea quickly. He started to guide your mouth down on his dick, not pausing again until his cock was buried completely in your mouth.
You let a whine vibrate your whole body. Seungcheol smiled down at you, one of his hands sliding down your face to brush the corner of your stretched out lips.
“You look so pretty with my cock down your pretty little throat.”
The veiled praise went right to your already soaked core, but Seungcheol was so blissed out that he didn’t even care. He began to ease himself out of you, taking his fucking time, pulling you all the way to his tip and then pressing you all the way back down until your nose was pressed to his lower abdomen.
Seungcheol started to press a faster pace. He wasn’t rough by any means, his grip on you was surprisingly gentle, and he was clearly in no rush at all. Not to cum, not to fuck you, not for anything. He was living in the moment, just grateful to have his dick down your throat.
Were you a whore for that making you so much wetter? The thought that he really was practically just using you. You were patient with him at first, but soon you weren’t able to keep that to yourself anymore. You whined and wiggled against him, patting his thigh until he released his grip on you.
“I can’t fucking wait anymore,” you bit out. Seungcheol raised an amused eyebrow.
“That’s three points,” he warned. Your eyes narrowed at him, which just made him laugh.
“Get on the bed if you need my cock that badly,” he murmured. “But I’m warning you. You’re sounding a little slutty when you talk like that.”
You didn’t care, a moan ripped from your mouth, and you scrambled up onto the bed. Seungcheol followed after you, a small push of the shoulder pressing you back onto his comforter. You wriggled underneath him, your eyes closing as you waited for him to move, to do something.
“Shit,” Seungcheol mumbled. Your eyes fluttered open, and you looked at him. He was staring at you, a pained look in his eyes and a hand stroking his cock.
“Did you bring a condom?” He asked you. Your lips pressed into a thin line, and you shook your head. Seungcheol gave you an apologetic smile. “I guess I’ll just have to make you cum a different way.”
A panicked feeling ripped through your body. You desperately didn’t want him to pull away. Not when he was so close to fucking you. You suddenly wrapped your legs around Seungcheol waist, pulling him closer to you, his tip dipping unintentionally into you.
You both let out matching moans.
“Need you to fuck me,” you mumbled, your face burning.
“Baby-” Seungcheol sounded wrecked. “I don’t have a condom.”
You were doing your best to avoid looking at Seungcheol.
“I don’t care.” Your voice was shaky, and even though you weren’t looking at him you could see the stupid cocky expression that had now appeared on his face.
“Yeah?” You were silent, but you tried to roll your hips down on Seungcheol to push him further into you. Seungcheol stilled you fast by digging his fingers into your hips- So deep that you were sure it was going to leave bruises.
“You want me to fuck you raw?”
You nodded, mouth still shut.
“I want to hear you say it,” Seungcheol pressed. You thought normally you would play against Seungcheol more. You thought maybe you would make him push you to say it more. But the tip of his cock still inside of you was making you so fucking desperate you really couldn’t hold back.
“I want you to fuck me raw.”
Seungcheol pushed fully into you without much more argument. You cried out at the thrust, wrapping your arms around Seungcheol’s neck, dragging him closer to you.
“You’re not doing very good baby,” he cooed. “Letting my pressure you into saying bad words? Begging someone to fuck you raw? So dirty... Shameless.”
He laughed against you but it was mixed in a loud moan.
“That’s another point. You’re at four.”
Before you could fight him back on it he began to slowly drag his cock out of you, pulling himself all the way out to the tip. You didn’t care about staying quiet anymore. You whined loudly
“Guess what baby?” Seungcheol whispered. Your hands slipped into his hair, fingers pulling at his strands.
“Close, fucking close,” you babbled, completely ignoring him. Seungcheol dipped his head, his lips brushing your ear.
“You hit six points.”
In seconds you were empty. Your eyes shot open and you pulled Seungcheol’s head up by his hair so that you could look him in the eyes. You must have looked fucked stupid under him. Your eyes wide and glazed over and your mouth gaping as you silently begged him to put his cock back inside of you. You two were quiet for a few seconds. Simply panting next to one another.
“Seungcheol fucking put-”
Seungcheol’s hand darted to your chin, and his fingers pressed into your cheek, forcing you to stop talking.
“What should your punishment be, hm?” He teased lightly. “Should I just get myself off and come all over you? Make you sit there covered in it?”
You tried to shake your head, but Seungcheol’s grip was tight- You were locked in one spot.
“Please,” you breathed. “Please Cheol. I need you to fuck me so badly. I need to come.”
Speaking with his fingers pressed into your cheeks was painful in a way that just spiraled down to your core, leaving you just that much more turned on and desperate for him to fuck you again.
“I could make you come,” he replied. His fingers darted down to your clit. He pressed down on you and began to rub your clit in firm circles. You threw your head back, shaking your head.
“No, no, no,” you protested. “Need to come with you inside of me.”
“But if I give you what you want then you’ll never learn,” Seungcheol teased.
“No!” You blurted, feeling pleasure coil through your body. You were fighting back against your own orgasm harder than you ever had before. “I’ll learn, I’ll learn.”
“No, you won’t,” he chided. “You had so many chances before punishment, and you didn’t learn then.”
You were co close. You didn’t even want to come at the moment and yet you were so fucking close.
Seungcheol pulled his fingers away from you and again you had your orgasm ripped away from you. Tears sprouted at the edge of your eyes and Seungcheol slapped your innerthigh.
“You’re going over my legs,” he mumbled. He pulled you to the edge of the bed, and dragged you over his legs. You whined and buried your face into the comforter.
“Fu-” Before you could get the whole word out Seungcheol’s hand came down hard on your ass. You cried out, a mixture of pleasure and pain running through your body.
“Why don’t you count for me?” He asked. You whined, shaking your head. Seungcheol hummed. “Unless, you’re not into this?”
His tone turned to a lighter one. For once he wasn’t teasing you.
Fuck.
“O-One,” you murmured. Seungcheol hummed again, and his hand came down on you again. “Two.”
Seungcheol’s hand ran over the curve of your ass, and two of his fingers dipped into your pussy. At this angle there was a slight burn despite the fact that not long ago something much bigger had been inside of you.
He pulled his fingers out again and suddenly slapped your ass.
Your whole body jolted.
“Th-three.”
“See? Isn’t it more fun when you listen?” Seungcheol asked you. “You could have come by now. Could have come around my cock just the way that you wanted to but no you had to be bad and break the same rules that you have to enforce everyday at work.”
“We’re not at work,” you protested, and Seungcheol slapped your ass again. You gritted your teeth together. “F-Four.”
“So mouthy,” Seungcheol tutted. “But you’re almost done.”
“Almost done,” you repeated, mimicking his tone in a way that you knew was in no way accurate. Your tone high and your body wiggling underneath him. His fingers slipped into your pussy again, spreading lazily.
“Isn’t this what you always complain about to the other managers at work?” Seungcheol asked. “People who can’t do something as simple as follow the rules...?” A whimper ripped from your lips. “If I didn’t know any better I would say that you enjoy getting punished. You like me being in control for once.”
You shook your body out in frustration, lightly biting down on the back of your hand and screaming into it.
“You’re wrong-” Seungcheol hit your ass again. And you bit down on your bottom lip to try and keep yourself from counting that hit. A hum of disapproval left Seungcheol’s mouth.
“If you don’t count you just get more,” he warned. As if to prove it his hand came down on you again. “And I’m not scared to turn your ass dark red. You look so fucking pretty over my knees like this.”
“F-Five and six,” you bit out suddenly, shaking your head desperately. “Please Cheol, I really, really need your cock.”
“No,” Seungcheol turned down. “You still have one more. That’s what you get for missing a count.”
More tears ran down your cheeks and you shook your head.
“I re-really need you,” you whined out. He hit you again. “Six.”
Seungcheol’s fingers threaded in your hair and he pulled you up. You dragged one of your legs over his legs. Seungcheol’s hands ran up your sides, and then he tightened his grip on your hips. He lifted you and then sunk you back down on his cock.
At this angle you literally felt like you were being split open on his cock, your whole body shook and you dropped your face into the crook of his neck.
“I-I-” You wanted to curse so badly. “Seung- Seungcheol.”
“I really hope that you don’t act out again,” Seungcheol mumbled. “Because I’m tired of waiting for you to come on my cock.”
You moaned loudly into Seungcheol’s skin. He raised you up again by your hips and slammed you back down on his cock. Your hands darted to Seungcheol’s shoulders and your fingers dug into him.
“You’re just s-so b-big,” you managed to get out. One of his hands raised to your chin and he tilted your head up.
“Ride me,” he mumbled. You nodded, your eyes darting to his lips.
“Kiss me,” you replied.
Seungcheol’s lips pressed to yours and you began to ease yourself up on Seungcheol’s cock. The stimulation of his cock and the burn on your ass from getting punished was just making you that much weaker. You couldn’t help the way that you were literally crying against his lips.
His hand raised to your cheeks, and his thumb swiped the tears across your cheeks. He broke of the kiss. “You need it badly don’t you?” He whispered. “Need me to take over again?”
You let your forehead fall against his. You didn’t really want to admit it but before you could voice that Seungcheol’s free hand pressed to your clit.
“Be good,” he warned. You nodded quickly.
“Pl-Please,” you breathed. “I need you to take over.”
Seungcheol grabbed your hips and began to raise and drop you on his cock. It didn’t really matter how long Seungcheol fucked you like that really. You were coming undone under him after only a few drops. You pressed your lips forward so that Seungcheol was kissing you again as he fucked you hard. With each drop he was forcing his hips up deeper inside of you.
Your whole body shook against Seungcheol’s and you went limp in Seungcheol’s hands. He still forced his cock in and out of you through your orgasm but even as you were blissed out you knew what you needed.
“Ch-Cheol,” you whimpered. “N-Need your cum. Inside.”
Your voice was weak but his wasn’t much better.
“Y/n-”
“Please.”
He didn’t make you beg anymore. You cried out as you felt Seungcheol’s cum spurting deep into your already sensitive pussy. Your whole body burned against Seungcheol and you shook your head against him.
“Oh fu-” You caught yourself and quickly shut your mouth. He laughed, exhaustion thrumming through his body.
“I told you that you wouldn’t learn unless you were punished.”
Seungcheol pulled you off of him, letting you roll over onto his bed. You whined, and shoved your face back into his sheets.
“Cheol your stupid tattoo is so cool,” you groaned. He laughed.
“You know, I really like it when you call me that,” he said softly. You felt him fall next to you on the bed, his fingers lightly brushing against your back.
“Yeah? More than Seungie?”
You wanted to hit yourself.
“Are you jealous?” He asked you with a laugh. You rolled over, letting your fingers twitch against his.
“I’m not jealous,” you denied. He grabbed your hand and tugged you closer to his body.
“Yes, you are,” he asserted. You grumbled, but turned into him anyways, wrapping your arms around his body and burying your face into his chest.
“No more than you are,” you retorted. “Can’t even chat with guests around you.”
Seungcheol hummed, but his lack of vocal disagreement just proved to you that you were right.
“What tattoo should I get next?” Seungcheol asked after a few minutes of silence. You looked up at him, pressing your lips together.
“Why are you asking me?” You murmured. His lips quirked up into a smile.
“So that I can drive you crazy wanting to see that one too.”
-
“Guess, what I heard.”
You looked up at your coworker, giving her a raised eyebrow, a bit annoyed that she was disrupting you while you were stocking but she didn’t seem to care really. She just leaned back on the counter.
“Seungcheol got another new tattoo.”
You looked back at what you were stocking, only so that she would not see the pained look on your face at the news. He had been mentioning that he really was going to get one. Every time he fucked you asking you where you thought the next one should be. Making you touch the places on his body that you wanted them to be. Teasing you with the fact that you were completely fucking obsessed with him.
“That’s...” Were you breathing easily? “Cool.”
“So cool,” she replied. “Everyone wants to see it but he’s refusing to show it to anyone yet, or even tell us what he got.”
Your eyebrows furrowed at the news.
“Really?” You asked. “Why?”
“He said that his girlfriend gets to see it first.”
Girlfriend. You thought back over the last time you had seen Seungcheol. Two nights ago, his cock buried deep inside of you.
“I’m getting the new tattoo tomorrow,” he mumbled into your neck.
“I want to see it first.”
A laugh left his lips.
“Yeah? You think I’m yours or something?”
You hadn’t really meant your answer.
“Aren’t you?”
You pressed down the urge to smile, and instead rolled your eyes.
“What idiot would date stupid Choi Seungcheol?”
Your hand slipped and a bucket started to fall to the ground. Before you could do anything someone caught it and your eyes flickered up, gaze meeting Seungcheol’s. His voice dropped so quiet that you knew that no one but the two of you could hear it.
“An idiot whose ass is going to be red tonight.”
Your face blazed and excitement coiled through the pit of your stomach, but you hid it behind a coy smile.
“That’s going to be a point.”
You were just glad the next day no one asked you why you were walking funny.
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Ruin it
Pairing: Max Verstappen x journalist!reader
Warnings: SMUT, cuss words, cheating and probably other things.
Summary: You and max were always teasing each other and over the years it turned into a huge sexual tension, until the fights of all the years and the accumulated lust turned into one long night of great sex.
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Max Verstappen.
We certainly had our moments.
Max and I used to race in go-karts together with Charles, Pierre, Alex and a few other drivers from the current grid and he hated the fact that I always beat him.
Which means he hated me too.
Over the years our fights became teasing and a huge sexual tension that we both realized but pretended we didn't since Max was with Kelly and for obvious reasons she didn't like me either.
Over time I realized that karting was just a hobby that I enjoyed so I didn't invest in a racing career and went into journalism becoming a formula 1 reporter.
We were in Vegas for the first Grand Prix in the city and I was very excited, especially as today it could be decided between Max and Charles who would be the world champion.
The cars were lined up in their positions and when the red lights went out the chaos started, at the first lap we lost George, Magnussen, Piastri and Ocon.
On lap 34 Charles takes Max's position taking first place and me as a reporter who can't have favorites follow me too much not to celebrate in front of everyone.
Charles was my friend and I really wanted him to win but I think I wanted Max to lose much more.
But unfortunately in the end Max passed Charles and became 3 times world champion.
The podium was fast, the champagne looked great and now I was here doing the interviews with the drivers and finally my arch enemy appears.
"Well Max we can say it was a great day for you today."
"Absolutely, we were flying."
"How does it feel to have become Formula 1 world champion for the third time?"
"I'm very happy, this result means that all the hard work team and I have put in over the year has not been in vain and now I'm looking forward to having a drink and celebrating."
"That's great, hope you have an amazing night and we see you next year." He smiles and waves leaving."Well guys that was 3 time world champion Max Verstappen, I'm
Y/n y/l/n and we end our 2023 season, see you next year."
They turn off the camera and I thank the whole team and pick up my things leaving when someone calls out to me.
"I could almost see the look of disgust on your face, lucky it's only me."
"Don't you have a party to go to?" I ask turning around and seeing Max.
"We do and it's at the Plaza, your name is on the list in case you want to go."
"And why would I go?"
"To celebrate that I won."
"I wasn't rooting for you to win."
"I know, and you have no idea how much that motivated me to win." He says stepping close to me. "I'm counting on you being there."
"Your girlfriend doesn't mind you being here trying to convince me to come to your little party?"
"She's not the boss of me and she didn't come to the race."
"Got it, I hope you have a bad night." I say walking out and just hear him yell one back.
...
I was lying on my bed staring at the ceiling with a lot of boredom thinking about the party Max had invited me to. Obviously I didn't want to go somewhere where he was but staying here in the room alone while I could be there drinking and having fun was also not an option.
So I got ready and asked for an Uber to the place where the party was going to be, I gave my name at the entrance and they said I was in the VIP area which I wouldn't go because obviously there would be few people and Max would be one of them.
I went to the bar to get something to drink and I felt a presence behind me and when I turned around to see who it was I saw only his chest and I looked up and Max was there with those damn blue eyes that I could spend the day looking at.
"I thought you said you weren't coming."
"Yeah but I was lying naked in my hotel bed with nothing to do so I thought a free drink wouldn't be a bad idea."
"I have lots of ideas of what you could have done naked in your hotel bed." He says coming closer.
"And are you in any of them?"
"Maybe."
"Then put it out of your mind because as far as I know you're committed to miss I’m dating an f1 champion."
"Imagining is not cheating as far as I know."
"If you say so." I downed my drink and looked at him. "Now if you'll excuse me I'm going to go dance and maybe find someone to take me back to my hotel room."
…
The party was great and I was sweaty from dancing, I went to get a drink of water and saw Daniel coming towards me.
"Can I ask you a favor?" He says taking a deep breath after seemingly circling the whole party looking for me.
"Sure."
"Can you take Max back to the hotel? I already tried but he said he won't leave unless he goes with you."
"Fucking hell." I say following him and see Max drunkenly calling my name.
"There you are." He gets up and almost goes but I hold him back. "Where have you been all party?"
"Having fun far away from you."
"Ouch." He runs his hand over my face, taking away the hair that was there. "Wow, you're so beautiful."
"Thanks, let's go."
After a lot of effort we managed to get to the hotel, I couldn't find his room keys and Max muttered something about them being with Daniel so I took his hand and we walked to my room, he was already much better since the city traffic was crazy and took us an hour to get here, he was still a little altered but he knew what he was doing.
"Are you going to let me sleep in your room?"
"Well I'm not going to go chasing someone to get another key to your room and I'm not going to let you leave like that either so it looks like we don't have any other option."
That said I go to get my pajamas but when I went to pass he put his hands around my waist and put his face close to mine.
"You're beautiful you know that right?"
"You already said that, like a while ago."
"I know but I wanted to say it again." I hated it when he looked me straight in the eye because I couldn't look away from those damn blue eyes.
"I hate it when you stare at me."
"Why?"
"Because I hate that I can't stop looking into your eyes."
"Good, because I don't want you to stop looking at them." He comes even closer. "Do you even know how hard I'm trying not to ruin my relationship right now?"
"Ruin it." I say without even thinking.
"What?" he asks shocked.
"I said ruin it."
Max and I start kissing and at the same time his tongue enters my mouth, it was a wild kiss that I could not separate even if I wanted to.
We walk without separating the kiss to the bed where he lays me down and gets on top of me.
One of his hands was on my face and my hands pass through his back going to the hem of his shirt trying to take it off.
He understands my gesture and takes off his shirt and he stops for a few seconds and just stares at me before taking off my blouse and starts kissing down to my neck and my breast.
I lift my back from the bed for him to open my bra and Max wastes no time in starting to suck my breast making me squirm on the bed.
He goes down the kisses to my belly and with his hands squeezes my breasts, he kisses my pussy still covered with the thin lace of my black pantries and soon removes all my clothes leaving me completely naked.
He kisses my thighs and starts massaging my clit with his fingertips making me moan and soon I feel his tongue on my pussy making quick movements.
He stared at me and the exchange of glances was what was making the environment even hotter than it already was.
I raise my hips giving him access to all my pussy and he holds my hips and leaves a strong grip on my ass, then he sticks two fingers inside my pussy without cutting the movement of his mouth.
"Fuck." I grumble trying to hold back my moans. "Keep doing it like that, that's how I want it."
He adds a third finger and I can't control any more moans, they are getting louder and louder.
I feel my legs starting to shake, signaling that I'm going to come at any moment.
I warn him and he intensifies his movements until I reach my limit.
He swallows my cum and continues in my pussy until he starts kissing my whole body, leaving some hickeys on my breast and going to my neck and reaching my ear.
"I knew one day I would make you scream my name in the middle of the night." he bites my lobe and kisses my mouth again.
I take off the bottom of his clothes, also leaving him naked, and switch our positions getting on top of him.
I sit on his lap and start to make a delicious friction in our intimacies hearing a muffled moan from the blond and his cock getting more and more bigger.
He holds my neck tight and makes me lie completely on top of him while he attacks my lips.
I stop the kiss and make a trail of kisses down his neck leaving some hickeys on the way until I reach his cock and kiss the tip.
When I was about to start sucking his cock, Max holds my hair tightly and starts making the movements himself making me choke a few times, his moans were getting louder and louder when he increases the movements and cums in my mouth.
I don't usually swallow, but this time I did it without thinking twice.
"How about you sitting on my face?" I walk over to him and sit on his face.
I hold onto the headboard, making back and forth movements while he sucks me and holds my breasts tight while I go up and down doing all the work while his tongue remains still.
He stops sucking me and I sit back on his lap as he looks at me, seeming to have an idea.
"I want to fuck you in a different way." he says in his sexy voice. "Face the window, I want everyone to see that you're mine tonight."
I do as he asks thanking that my room is on the second to last floor because they would never be able to see that it's the two of us.
"Good girl, now I'm going to fuck you, but you choose." He grabs my neck. "Do you want it tender or do you want a fuck with all the positions we can handle?"
"Fuck me hard, make me yours." I try to turn towards him but he won't let me.
"Your wish is my command schatz." he begins to fit his cock in my intimacy.
At that time I didn't care about anything, I didn't care that it was him, I didn't care that we were having sex let alone that he had a girlfriend that he was cheating on right now.
Soon he begins to give strong strokes in and out of me holding my neck with one hand as he squeezes my breast with de other.
He gets out of me and turns me over, putting my back against the window and grabbing my legs with his arms and fitting his member into me again in a strong and aggressive way.
The thrusts continue stronger and stronger and the only noises we hear in the room is our bodies colliding and heavy breathing.
We try to hold back our moans but every exit and entry inside me makes me want to scream his name.
I pull him into a kiss and he bites my bottom lip and still kissing me, Max leads me to the bed leaving my back against the mattress and him on top of me fucking me like it's the last thing he would do.
The last thing we would ever do.
Due to lack of air we stop the kiss and my hands go to his back leaving several scratches, I see him staring at me while I call his name.
I announce my apex to him who is also reaching his.
When I reach my limit and he continues inside me going faster and faster making me scream for him until he comes.
He gets out of me and I change position to doggy and he leaves a slap on my ass, entering me again and going slowly to torture me, until he increases the speed.
He squeezes my breasts and massages my nipple.
He pulls out of me and lies down pulling me to sit on his lap.
I fit his member inside me and start to ride slowly while he squeezes my waist and I start to move up and down when taking his member out of me, until we cum again and I fall tired on his chest.
He leaves a kiss on my forehead and keeps messing with my hair without changing position.
After a while of caresses between the two of us, we left and went straight to the bathroom, he discarded the condom while I went into the shower but he came after, I was on my back to him when he takes my wet hair off my neck and starts kissing him all over and turns me to him starting to kiss my mouth leaning me against the wall while the hot water falls on both of us.
He goes down and leaves a hickey in the middle of my breasts and goes down the kisses and penetrates me with three fingers, I put my hand on my mouth to contain the moans while he fucks me once again.
Soon he leaves a kiss on my pussy and goes back up making a trail of kisses through my body and he lifts my left leg and fucks me mercilessly.
With each thrust he says how beautiful I am and what a wonderful woman I was.
He bites my ear and my nipple in a pleasurable way, while his hands are on my ass.
He squeezes and moans softly in my ear, until together we reach our limit.
We shower together while he washes my hair and I do the same with him.
Leaving the shower, Max put on his underwear and I took his blouse and my panties and put them on too.
When we lay down he pulled me on top of him and soon he was asleep but I kept thinking about how we would react tomorrow morning after we recounted the conscience of our deeds, but honestly I wasn't going to lose my sleep thinking about it now, it was already done and I decided that tomorrow I would worry about it.
This is probably going to have more parts so let me know if you want to be tagged in the next ones.
#max verstappen#f1 fanfic#f1 imagine#f1 x you#f1#f1 instagram au#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen x you#max verstappen one shot#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen instagram au#max verstappen edit#max verstappen au#max verstappen angst#max verstappen series#max verstappen smut#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen f1#max verstappen fanart#max verstappen fluff#max verstappen blurb#max Verstappen Drabble#red bull formula 1#red bull racing#red bull max#red bull honda#red bull f1#red bull team#f1 2023#f1 x reader
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Meanwhile with Malleus
SUMMARY: You spent a lot of time with Malleus while the others fought ghosts. What could have happened in all that time? You needed to sleep before the party. And maybe he taught you how to play the organ.
CHARACTERS: Malleus Draconia x Reader 🐉🦐
TAGS: Fluff, GN Reader, Cuddles, Flirting, Kissing
WARNING: Spoilers from Twisted Halloween: Spectral Soiree
WORD COUNT: 2.830 words
COMMENTS: The truth is that I started writing this a few weeks (maybe months) ago and it has been on hold for a long time. As this event returned to the Eng Server I decided to finish it and post it in October.
I hope you enjoy 💚
After all that Halloween week, the Magicam Monsters and that parade, you were dead tired. You just wanted to rest after all that. But someone knocks on the door of Ramshackle Dorm.
“Tsunotarou?!” You didn't know whether to show that you were happy to see him or to ask if anything was wrong.
“Child of Man,” Malleus speaks with a smile “I'm here to invite you and the rest of the Ramshackle Dorm residents to an Halloween party at the Spectral Realm.”
You don't seem as happy about the idea as he thought you would be. And you were confused too. “A Halloween party? At the... what's the Spectral Realm?”
He briefly tells you about the ghosts and the party he plans to throw with the other NRC students at the Spectral Realm.
“I don't know if I can handle another party, Tsunotarou.” you say sadly “I'm really so tired.”
“Yeah...” Grim says “I mean, even if there's a feast, I still need to rest to have the energy to eat more.”
“Besides.” you look at the clock “Halloween is almost over.”
“Oh, don't worry about that little detail.” Malleus smiles and snaps his fingers. You stop listening to the clock ticking and when you look at the clock again it's eleven fifty-nine.
“Can you stop time?” you say almost in a whisper.
“You should know by now that I am capable of doing many things.” he smirk “But this spell is only affecting the Sage's Island. And about your tiredness, I'll let everyone else sleep until the party preparations are done, I can arrange a quiet place for you to rest in the Spectral Realm if you like.”
“We already sleep with ghosts so it shouldn't make much difference, right (Y/N)?” Grim says.
You sigh and end up accepting it. Malleus smile gladly and then looks at your tired posture.
“If you are also very tired from walking all day, I don't mind helping you.”
“Would you carry me in your arms?” you ask partly jokingly, partly hoping he would say yes.
He laughs, loving your boldness. “Are you sure you want to make such request?”
“Is that a no?”
“No, it is not a No. Fu fu. Honestly answering your question, yes, I would carry you if you needed. And yes, I would carry you to the Spectral Realm.” he smiles amusedly at you.
“Oh come on, just jump to his arms already or something!” Grim complains. “And do everyone a favour and get that room.”
You blush, Malleus laughs. “In fact, we should go. I don't want to keep Lilia waiting any longer. May I?” He asks you.
You nod and he picks you up, bridal style. One hand behind your knees and the other on your back. As easily as if you weighed nothing. Inevitably, you need to support yourself by putting your arms around his neck and your faces get very close. He’s smiling and his eyes looking at you affectionately.
“OI!” Grim complains again “My paws are hurting too. I also want to be carried.”
Malleus laughs again. “That can be arranged.” He turns his back to Grim and wraps his draconic tail around the little beast's waist. “MRAH!” And picks his up. “You are able to come by yourselves, correct?” he asks the three ghosts who have been watching in secret from you.
When you arrive at the Mirror chamber, Lilia was there waiting for you all. He just didn't expect Malleus to bring Grim with his tail and you in his arms. First Lilia worries.
“Oh! Did something happened? Did (Y/N) get hurt on your way here?”
You get even more embarrassed. Mainly because you knew that Malleus would tell Lilia the truth.
“Fu fu fu. Don't fret, Lilia.” Malleus smiles, like he's glad Lilia saw the two of you like this. “Child of Man is just really tired of walking all day and asked me if I could carry them.”
Lilia looks at you and gives you his sly smile. “Oh, truly? Fu fu fu. How daring for a human.”
“Can we go to that ghost world already?!” you hear Grim's voice complaining. “This is not that comfortable you know.” Malleus flicks his tail to the side, revealing to Lilia a Grim caught in a black dragon's tail. And Lilia starts to laugh heartily, almost bringing tears to his eyes.
Malleus only put you back on the ground when you arrived at the Sparkling Chamber. You took a moment to admire the place. But it didn't take long for you and Grim to start yawning.
“Ah, yes. I promised you that I would find you a place to rest.” Malleus remembers.
“Indeed, (Y/N) must rest.” Lilia says “I sure know how harmful lack of sleep can be to a human. If I'm not mistaken, I think there are some rooms beyond this Chamber that you can use.”
Malleus would go with you to find a room while Lilia started getting the chamber ready for the party.
You found a good one, but it had no furniture or what little it had was broken. You comment on trying to find another one, but Malleus says that won't be necessary. With a snap of his fingers the room is cleaned and the furniture repaired.
In one corner of the small room was an antique carved pine single bed. The sheets were white and the cover a pale purple. Similar to Malleus' own bed in Diasomnia. Grim jumped to the foot of the bed and was asleep in seconds. You, on the other hand, look a little unease.
“I can change your clothes to pajamas with magic if it makes you more comfortable.” Malleus suggests.
You say that would help a lot, so he gestures and your Halloween costume changes to pale green pajamas. It was comfortable, like the bed you sit on. But even so, there was still something that didn't leave you completely at ease.
“I know I sleep in a dorm with ghosts now.” You explain. “But I only sleep well today because I've gotten used to them and the dorm has had some improvements. But I almost couldn't sleep the first few nights. I don't know if I'll be able to fall asleep here.”
“I see. Would you feel more rested if I stayed by your side until you fell asleep?” He was smiling, like he was sure you were going to say no.
When you say yes, he is taken aback for a moment. His bright green eyes looking at you wide open in astonishment. But then he remembered who he was talking to and laughed with the greatest of joys. He smiled warmly at you. “You know, I believe some children want company to fall asleep so that person can protect them from me. This is... an interesting... no, delightful turn of events. I dare say”
You open the sheets and lie down. After placing them on top of you and settling down on the bed, Malleus sits down beside you. He could use magic to put you to sleep, but he didn't want to. He wanted to see if you genuinely felt comfortable around him to the point where you could fall asleep.
“Briar Valley has many lullabies.” He tells you, with the softest of voices. “Sleep and dreams are deeply embedded in our culture. Would you like me to sing you one of our lullabies? Allowed me to guess, your answer is yes.”
“You can't make a proposal like that and expect me to say no.” You say with a soft smile and already with your eyes closed.
Malleus chuckles and happily fulfills your request. He sings to you in a sweet tone, that becomes even more affectionate when he looks at your sleepy smile.
When he finishes, you are already fast asleep. He is smiling looking at you and take one of his hands to your head. But stop before touching you, hesitating. As if he's afraid that the moment he touches you, you'll startle awake. But even so, he took the risk.
He puts his hand on your head, stroking your hair. And you don't wake up. Actually, your smile comes back slightly. He is so happy about it. And he decides to risk it just one more time.
He leans over you and kisses your forehead. And you were still sleeping. “Dream of me. As I dream of you.”
He stayed with you for a while longer. Before he finally left to assist with the party preparations, he did two things. First, he cast another spell so that outside noises wouldn't disturb your sleep. And second, he put a paper on your bedside table in case you wake up earlier than necessary. It said that since you had no way of knowing if you slept too much or too little, because time was still, you didn't have to worry that he would wake you up when the time came.
And that is what happened. You feel a kiss on your cheek and a familiar voice in a sweet tone saying your name. You open your eyes to find Malleus's bright green ones looking at you, over a sweet smile.
“We hear that the other students have already woken up and are on their way here.” Malleus explains, sitting on your bed watching you stretch. “So we figured you should have gotten enough rest too. Did you sleep well?”
“I did. Thank you so much.” you sit on the bed.
“For asking?” He seems confused that you would thank him so much for something so trivial.
“No. For what you've done. For fixing the room, giving me a comfortable bed and mostly staying with me until I fall asleep. I probably wouldn't have been able to sleep here without you.” You hear snoring at the foot of your bed, behind Malleus who was facing you. “Unlike Grim.”
Malleus seems very happy about what you said. And there was something he really wanted to ask you. “Do you happen to remember what you dreamed? People dream every night, but sometimes they forget about them and that's why they think they didn't dream that night.”
A dream? You think. And yes, you remember! But you say it was a silly dream. When the truth is, you're slightly embarrassed.
“I've heard that the silly dreams can be the most meaningful.” Malleus says. “I would love to hear about yours. But if it's something you don't want to tell me, I understand. Dreams can be extremely personal.”
You think about it. It was no dream that I couldn't tell anyone. It was even...cute. So you decide to tell him.
You remember you were in a forest, for some reason. You lived there? You had lots of animal friends and you remember singing and dancing with them. What you were singing... you recognize... it was the lullaby Malleus sang to you. There was an owl wearing the cape of the Houseworden of Diasomnia, a rabbit in each black boot with green heels, and a squirrel with a small pillbox hat, balancing on top of the owl's head.
When you finish describing this part, both you and Malleus are laughing. “I wouldn't be surprised if I ever witness the same scenario with Silver's clothes.” Malleus comments between laughs. But you hadn't finished telling the dream yet.
As you danced with the animals, someone appeared behind you and continued singing and dancing with you, making that song a duet. When you turn around, you find Malleus.
“Did I scared you?” He asks about the Malleus in the dream. He was smiling, but you knew that wasn't his real smile. It was a smile that hid some apprehension.
“No, of course not. I was very happy to meet you there.” He looked like you had lifted a weight off his shoulders with just those words of yours. The next thing you remember is dancing with Malleus in a ballroom. and what you were wearing was constantly changing color because... Two Lilias? Were arguing about whether you should be wearing green or purple.
And with that the two of you started laughing again. Malleus said you should tell that last part to Lilia, he'll love it.
“I dreamed of flying tuna cans.” Grim said, to prove that he too was already awake. "But I couldn't catch any. It was a nightmare.”
“Fret not, Grim. There will be plenty of food for you when everyone arrives and the party begins.” Malleus assured him. “And now that you two are awake, I should change your clothes back.” He wave his hand and Grim's hat and cap come back, but this time they're green instead of purple.
He gets up from your bed and holds out his hand to you, like one of those gentleman helping you out of the carriage. You give him your hand and get out of the bed. Then he surprises you by spinning you, like the dance move.
When the spin ends your clothes have changed. But not like Grim's that stayed the same, just changing the colour. Your clothes were also green now, where once were purple, but they weren't the same as the ones the ghosts gave you. It looks like an improved version, with more details and accessories. Malleus looked at you as if admiring you and proud of his work.
“How do I look?” you ask.
“Wonderful.” He simply says with a smile, as if it were an obvious truth.
He offers you his arm for you to walk arm in arm into the Sparkling Hall. He tells you about the plans for the party as you walk down the hall and explains about the mirror ball. And when he tells you that he plans to play the organ during the party you are so excited and curious that you ask him if he could play something for you.
He smiles. “I think there will be no problem. I may even take this opportunity to practice.” He takes you to the organ and asks you to sit next to him while he plays.
It's no surprise that he plays beautifully. You look at him playing which practically hypnotizes you. Your ears appreciate music while your eyes appreciate him.
He looks at you smiling, as if he knew you were looking at him the whole time. He lets you get flattered, he loves seeing you like that, before asking you: “You can play?”
“Organ? Oh no, I don't.”
“Would you like to try? We have plenty of time until the guests arrive. I can teach you a simple melody.”
You accept his offer. He smiles happily.
“I'm glad. I'm eager to hear you play. Even if it is a basic song. However, forgive me if this is an impolite question, but would you mind sitting on my lap while I teach you? it will be easier for me to show you the keys and the correct way to move your fingers from a similar perspective as yours.”
You try to say you don't mind without showing how happy you really are. However, it's not that easy, and he laughs with delight that you not only don't mind but are happy with the suggestion.
You sit on his lap and hear a soft sound on the floor behind you. You glance back and Malleus tries to hide his draconic tail whose tip was happily wagging. You don't hide your giggle. Your back finds his chest, his hands cover yours to indicate the keys you should play and he begins to teach you a simple but beautiful song.
After a few minutes, you forget the world. It's just you, Malleus and the organ. You fail a few notes and he corrects you with a laugh. When you get it right you hear him congratulating you and saying you're doing well. And all the while you can feel the affection he has for you, the gentle way he holds your hands, the sweet way he talks to you even when you miss the notes. Until you end up reaching the end of the song.
“Wonderful.” Malleus says with a sweet and dreamy voice “That was the most beautiful play I ever heard.”
“But I failed so many notes.” You remember him, smiling.
“I'm very aware of that. But it was the first thing I heard you play. So it will always be special to me from now on.” he takes his hands out of yours and hugs you around the waist. And lay his head on your shoulder. “You will always be special to me.” he whispers in your ear, and kiss your cheek.
You hear that sound of his tail wagging happily on the ground behind you again.
If you decide to tip your head back, tell him how you feel about him and allow him to kiss your lips, you will receive the most loving kiss and he will hug you tighter.
If you would like to read more from me, you can find it in my pinned post: INDEX
#Twisted Wonderland#twst#twisted wonderland x reader#twst x reader#disney twisted wonderland#twst imagines#twst wonderland#twst fluf#Twisted Wonderland Fluf#twst fluff#Twisted Wonderland Fluff#Twisted Halloween#Malleus Draconia#Malleus Draconia x Reader#Malleus x Reader
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something about the legs | h.s oneshot
summary: something about your best friends legs really does it for you, especially in skinny jeans…
warnings: besties with unexpected and very impulsive benefits, oral sex (mrec), lots and lots of talk about those mfing legs and thighs, dirty talk, h not expecting you to be like that until you are.
a/n: so it’s been a hot minute… hi again🤪 but something rlly just sent me spiralling with this pic of h’s fucking legs. look at them. anyways, enjoy me being a slut and channeling it into some fine literature, enjoy xoxo
———
Ovulation week is a curse. An absolute, utter curse.
Between the multitude of random fluctuating symptoms and skyrocketing hormones, you feel dreaded enough as it is. But the worst part, is every fucking month you become absolutely manic with need.
Some are increasingly better or worse than others, but this month is something off the charts.
There is no warrant for you to be this fucking horny at 9:32pm on a Thursday night. Yet here you are, squirming because you’re around someone that already riles you up enough as it is.
Harry is your best friend. Has been for years. Since the awkward starting phases of middle school. All braces paired with horrendous fashion choices. And into the ages of highschool throughout all the drama and predictable thematics. Into the present, where life throws you curveballs as you enter the world as young adults, and now that he’s in one direction. You can’t imagine going through all that with anyone else.
Actually, maybe it’s fit to mention you’re almost certain that this man never went through an awkward phase… despite the fact possibly everyone else on the planet did. Harry did not.
He was cute from the day he was born, it’s evident in the pictures, up until he hit puberty, then he became some ungodly mix of both cute and ridiculously hot.
It’s disgusting that someone can do both things at the same time. And also revolting that they can have no idea at all.
But tonight, he is all hot. Between the way he’s dressed, the way he’s walking, and the way he’s talking. It’s close to killing you where you’re sat.
Thighs clenched together like there’s a thousand dollar check between them, you sit on a outdoor couch at your family’s holiday house.
It’s just the two of you outside on the large decked patio. It’s a huge house by the lake that your parents and grandparents own, so you invited Harry to come stay for the week. Your family were thrilled you invited him, but have already turned in for an early night. Since they planned to be out on the lake for a day of water activities almost before the damn sun was even fully up.
Harry has a glass of alcohol in his hands— one that is completely dwarfed in his hold. It’s condensation forming small droplets over the ridges of his fingers.
He hasn’t realised the staring you’ve been doing, as he paces the deck talking about something to do with a recent song he’s been writing.
You’re sliding in small hums of agreement at the appropriate times without even hearing what he’s saying. Only the pleasing lilt in his voice that tickles your ears as it enters them.
He’s got those black skinny jeans on, the pair that cling to his hips for dear life. And not only are they fit to his hips, but they hug every single curve on his legs. The thick of his thighs all the way down to the muscle of his calf.
And if anything was the killer for you tonight, it was those.
You’re surprised you’re not drooling on yourself. Which is fucking disgusting, but fact. As there is an over-production of saliva in your mouth right now just looking at his legs.
He is so muscly there. The presumed strength of his thighs makes you actually pant, and you never thought legs did it for you like this. But my god right now, they certainly are.
“But I jus’ dunno Y/N,” he turns to you, causing you to snap your gaze from the curve of his ass which you were shamelessly just staring at, back to his face.
It doesn’t get better for you anywhere you look. The man was built and sculpted by a god. Every feature was painstaking to look at, and not be able to touch.
“What d’ya reckon would sound better?” He asks, nonchalantly, unaware you were just eyeing him up.
You feel some shame now, as you scramble to find an answer for the question you don’t even know the context for.
“Well, i think whatever you feel flows better. Yknow?” You swallow, praying to god it’s diluted enough of an answer that he’ll just take it without question.
He nods, and relief floods through you, “i s’pose you’re right.”
However that relief hardly lasts long, because he’s not as clueless as you’d presumed, “You’re pretty good at giving advice even when you’re only half listening.”
He saunters over from the span of deck he’d been pacing the last 10 minutes, sitting down next to you with a smug look on his face. You feel the cushions dip with his body weight, and you’re so delusioned that even a part of you twinges with desire at the understanding of his weight. The idea of him pressing it down on top of you during—
“What’s on ya mind, love, why are you s’faraway lookin’?” He asks, sipping at his drink with a quirk of his dark eyebrows.
“I—“ Christ. He’s manspreading a bit right now… thighs pushed apart, “I’m just tired. Been a big few days.”
His curly, and boyishly-messy hair is cascading over his forehead and casting a shadow of his green gaze, the same one that’s nailing you where you’re sat right now.
He doesn’t look very convinced. And he’s watching your eyes flicker around, looking guilty of a lie, presumably the words that just came from your mouth.
“You don’t have t’lie, dove.” He laughs, a soft songbird-like chuckle that somewhat eases your tenseness.
You feel so dirty for thinking about him like this. When he can’t tell you it’s okay to be imagining absolutely sinful things you’d do… or let be done when it comes to him. However, you are so hormonal right now, that you don’t have it in yourself to stop.
He was just simply the wrong person, in the wrong place, at coincidentally the right time in your hormonal cycle.
And you feel even worse because there’s years of history behind the two of you. And friends are not meant to think of each other like this, it makes things quickly complicated. And this is not a hallmark film.
“I know.” You sigh out, “it’s not you, H. I’m just… hormonal.”
His first thought was that you were on your period, a look of tender concern flitting across his face.
“Oh, is your period making you feel sick?”
You could laugh at the irony. You are infact neither of the things he thinks. Not bleeding, and not ill.
He has looked after you before when you’ve been in the trenches with your period. He is always so willing to get you anything when you’re not feeling well.
And you can tell by the look on his pretty face he’s about to ask you he can get you anything to help— pain relief, water, snacks or simply a hug.
A gentleman, as always.
But if he asks you if you need anything, you only have one answer and that’s him. You need him, and not in a platonic way. So you interject before he can ask,
“No, quiet the opposite.” You shake your head, pursing your lips.
“But it’s fine,” you amend curtly, “just girl stuff.”
The two of you get consumed by a momentary silence, he was waiting for more information, which you simply were not giving. After a few seconds, he sputters out a sudden laugh.
“You can tell me, if you want, idiot.” He laughs, nudging you with his knee. His very attractive leg being left pressed into yours. “Gross details and personal stuff never usually stop us.”
Your whole body is burning up, overwhelmed. He is so fucking hot, and caring. You want him filling up your goddamn throat.
“No, trust me. This is all left best untold and ignored. I can’t help it, so we’re just ignoring it.” Your tone is certain, and to this he nods. Able to tell that’s as much of an answer he’d be getting for now, so he begrudgingly accepts it.
“Fine, fine, you’re just so stiff. Need t’relax.” He slides his free hand behind your back to pull him into his side.
Tugging you the small distance between you two, your head comes naturally to rest in the crook of his neck. Nose inhaling the woodsy scent of his cologne, smelling like the refreshingly cool breeze on a muggy summer night.
His thumb strokes a delicate back and forth rhythm on the bare skin it’s found between the waistband of your jeans and the hem of your fitted top.
It’s killing you, because he’s so gentle with you. Such a sweetheart really, but you’re breaking out a sweat at the feeling of his fingertips against your skin. You need a cold shower.
You try not to let your eyes wander down to the legs in those fucking jeans.
“S’long as ya alright,” he murmurs into your hair, “is there anything you need from me? ‘Cause if I can do anything for ya, yknow I would.”
Your stomach drops, how are you even supposed to answer that. Your face heats with even more guilt.
Your internal voice drops in her two cents on the question— your cock, she confidently stated. That was what she wanted.
“No, nothing you can do that’s reasonable, H.” You say, too dangerously close to him dragging the truth out of your needy mouth for your liking.
He tilts his head down to look at the profile of your face, curiously prodding further, “How unreasonable are we talking?”
“Ridiculously and foolishly unreasonable.”
“Why?”
“Sh. Don’t make me tell you, because I don’t want to.” You state defiantly, rolling away from his hold, since now you’re talking about it— although vaguely— it’s just making it worse.
Focusing on it is making the need more intense, your eyes feasting unintentionally on his muscled body relaxing on the couch.
He’s got this smirk on his lips. One you want to kiss off.
“You’re blushing, is it that bad?”
You scoff, “Yes, that bad.”
“Okay… so, it’s not your period, and it’s technically fixable— since you just said it’s unreasonable for me to do it… not impossible.” he’s wondering out loud, watching your every move.
Which now you’ve stood up and started pacing, trying to distract yourself from the pulsing between your legs and the begging voice in your head that wants to touch him so badly.
“Stop being nosey! God!” You frustratedly whine out, and he laughs at your sudden anger at not only him, but at seemingly just being a woman.
“Just trying to help, baby, don’t get mad.” He teases, and between his suddenly mocking mouth, your resolve snaps like a fickle twig.
“Fuck, I’m horny. Harry!” You groan out, covering your eyes over with the palms of your hands so you don’t have to see his likely disgusted face at your confession.
But now that you’ve started you can’t stop, “You just… your fucking legs and thighs are just… I don’t know! I’m ovulating and you’re just really sexy, it’s frustrating and I really want to die right now, H.”
In reality, his brows had just shot up with surprise, lips parting in shock. He could not believe you just admitted that.
He glanced down to his legs. He’s just in jeans, it wasn’t like he felt as though they were anything to write home about.
It shocked him that you even… well obviously the two of you are best friends. But it was rare that topics of sex came up, so all the sudden the conversation being about that and also about you is making his head spin.
Yet something comes over him, he doesn’t think as he speaks his next words, “Tha’s not as unreasonable as you made it out to be.”
You snap your hands down from your face, eyes locking onto his— he doesn’t look repulsed or uncomfortable as you had originally expected. He looks inexplicably open to the topic.
“I’ve got somethin’ you need, somethin’ that can fix it, love.” He states, shrugging his shoulders, his voice going almost sultry, “An’ yknow what I said, hm?”
At your silence— because you’re too stunned to even speak— he finishes the sentence for you, “Said I’d do anything for ya.”
Oh, is this quickly snowballing.
“Harry!” You shake your head, it feeling so wrong to be talking about this with him.
He abandons his drink on the small side table beside the couch, standing up and breaching the distance between you.
“Jus’ say the words, and then im yours.” He lowly whispers, and this is about to make you pass out. You’re clenching around nothing in your underwear, and the proposition is so tempting.
“We shouldn’t though. It’s not your responsibility to… satiate me.” You gulp out, nervous, yet body flaming with heat.
“Y/N, best friends help each other out… tha’s all it has to be, jus’ me making y’feel better.” he says, hand coming to run down your upper arm. And the second you started talking about this, his cock has been twitching where it’s confined his jeans.
“You can make all the decisions, all the calls, m’kay?” The statement was reassuring.
You lean into his touch, caving without anymore of a fight, “Okay… alright. Just… tell me if you change your mind. Please?”
His lips curl into a satisfied smile, feeling his hand get taken by yours. It’s much to risky to be fucking around with your best friend on the families patio, so you lead him down the steps into the dark, open backyard.
They have a pier, that’s lit with small solar lights, and that’s the first place you can that is reasonable enough to go. You tug him along the wooden decking it has, feet drumming against it.
Against a tree was too dark, and you at least want to see his cock if you’re getting the opportunity to touch it.
“On the pier, hey? That desperate.” He teases, and you push him with your free hand into one of its big wooden pillars.
“I want your cock down my throat, how’s that for desperate?” You scoff, pulling a laugh of pure shock from his own lips.
“I’m serious, H.” You look at him, stone cold expression. You are so riled up and ready to touch him that you need immediate confirmation this is something he wants.
“Go on, said you wanted it.”
Before you sink down onto your knees, you question him further, “you want this, though?”
A smile spreads over his mouth, “baby, you’re gonna be able to feel just how much i want this when you get down there. I was bricked the second you said you were horny.”
That was all you needed, dropping to the ground on your knees— now with his consent, your filter completely disappeared.
“Fuck me, Harry. I don’t think you understand how sexy you are.” Hands immediately coming up to squeeze the muscle of his thighs.
He hums a noise as he looks down at you on your knees, “Never thought legs would do it for you, but here we are.”
“Only thing i could think about is digging my nails into your thighs…”
You drag your hands back up to where the buckle of his belt laid, grabbing at it and undoing it. Slipping it out of the loops in his pants in a swift movement.
Leaning forward, you lift the hem of his black shirt, pressing your mouth against his happy trail.
You’re a slut for that little teasing patch of hair that dips below his low jeans. It causes you to whine out, a wordless sound of appreciation as you peck kisses over it.
The button and zipper quickly got undone by your nimble hands, and you finally brush over the prominent bulge that’s perked up in his boxers.
A realisation that you’re about to see your best friends dick for the first time kind of hits you, causing you to roll your lips between your teeth.
His suddenly strained voice comes from above you, “fuck, Y/N, don’t get shy with me. Y’can take me out.”
He’s almost ready to beg, even though this is all technically for you. But he didn’t anticipate how sensitive he would be when it’s a special girls hands running over his bulge.
However that’s exactly how it is, he’s already biting his lip as you cup him through his briefs, head tilted backwards with a sudden shared need.
You draw his jeans further down, “patience, im just enjoying you, pretty boy.”
The doting nickname earns a small groan from his lips, paired with the fact you’re now mouthing at his inner thighs. They’re warm and firm, dusted with dark hairs. You suck the most inner and upper part of his thigh into your mouth, causing him to grunt out.
You busy yourself with that particular part of his skin for a moment, rubbing the backs of your hands around the flesh of his ass. Still unfortunately covered by his briefs.
“So fuckin’ good to me, H.” You muttered into his soft skin, dragging your nose over to kiss the fabric covering his hard cock.
It makes him twitch, “letting me do this… and touch you where I want.”
You sound so out of it, replacing your mouth with your hand momentarily so you can go back to kissing his thighs, teeth impulsively barring over them. He shudders at the sensation.
After a bit more teasing, you finally start to pull the waistband of his black calvins down.
When his cock is fully out, you moan. You straight out moan at the sight of it. It’s glistening tip is a flushed red, beading out a sliver of precum for you, and it was safe to say he’s well equipped.
The two of you curse in sync as you hold him in your hand, feeling the weight as you stroke gently.
“Christ, tha’s good.” He curses out, hips stuttering forward slightly. You take a moment to look up at his face.
His cheeks have gone a slight red, and his lips are shiny from his teeth and tongue constantly running over them. Not to mention the way his lidded eyes are gazing down at you.
You hold eye contact as you lean in to lick over his tip in one solid stroke, watching his face twist in pleasure.
It makes your core drip. Seeing his cock, tasting it, watching him react to your touch. It fuels you to take his tip into your mouth, giving a gentle suck.
Your fingers take refugee digging into his thighs, and you are already loosing you mind with him between your lips. Somehow, you’re almost convinced you could come just from sucking on his dick.
Your self control is completely shattered now, you draw back and spit over his length, listening to him groan out as he watches the action.
“Drool on me, darling.” He says, the gentle demand makes you eager to impress him. You liked the idea of him telling you what to do… maybe even forcing you.
Fuck, you are sick and twisted, you scoffed internally at your self. Yet proceeding to gather your saliva and let it dribble down onto him.
“Thank you, thank you…” you murmur against him, and he twitches at your still airy voice. He would kill to know just how wet you were between your legs.
It was such a sight for you though, seeing him start to get slicked up with your own spit. Your mouth reconnected with him, sliding further down, hand coming up to massage his balls.
You’re whining around him now, starting to move in a sort of rhythm over his cock. You can’t help it, you were becoming frantic at him filling your throat.
The vibration of your mouth sends his hand flying into your hair, drawing a cuss from his lips, “fuck, Y/N…”
You get his cock as far as you can into your mouth without gagging— you’ll leave that for a little later— stroking the remainder. There’s something about the way he takes up the space between your lips, the feeling of his thick cock atop your tongue.
You glance up at him, fingertips teasing the inner parts of his thigh. Just as you look up, you give a harsh suck, hollowing out your mouth and lathing your tongue on the underside of him. Feeling the vein that runs along him.
His head almost bangs back against the wooden beam he’s leaning on, you feel the slight stutter of his hips.
A moan reverberated around you, filling your ears pleasingly. You draw back for a breathe, “you taste so good.”
His hand curls in your hair, panting out, “You’re such a needy girl…”
“Like that?” He asks at the whimper that come from you, “like being told that I see how desperate y’becoming?”
You nod immediately, “please…”
At your way of asking for more dirty talk he smiles, “becoming my little slut? Warming my cock with your mouth just because you’re so horny for it.”
When you don’t reply with words, and only a senseless moan, he taps your mouth with his fingers gently.
“Show me, baby.”
You part your lips almost instantly at his command, jutting your wet tongue out, ready to take him back into your mouth.
He guides his cock back between your lips, and that’s about as far as he gets before you have to take over from him again. All he can register is how hot and warm you’re mouth is as it wraps around him again.
You start to bob your head, taking him all the way down your throat with a slight gag. You’re whining without warrant now, all over his spit slicked cock.
It’s paired with his own moans of pleasure and words of praise as you suddenly draw back, flicking over his wet tip with your tongue, teasing it and making him grunt.
Your soul existence quickly slips to being just about his cock and hearing his noises. Being able to look up at him and see the sweat beginning to sheen over his forehead, and the mess of his soft hair.
His eyes are squeezed shut, and he has to forcibly open them every so often to see you. A reality check for himself that down on her knees, is his best friend. Drooling all over his prick with a insatiable need.
“Good fuckin’ girl.” He states as you take him all the way down your throat again.
“Taking me like the slut y’are. Might ‘ave to fuck you like one later, how’s that sound?” His mouth has gone loose now, brain muddled with only thoughts of you in it.
You suck and nod over him, brain rioting with a yes at his question.
“Probably so wet, so warm.” He mutters in half thought, and the idea of him even thinking of you like that makes you clench multiple times in your panties.
You roll you hips against nothing which he is grateful he caught with his half lidded eyes. The look of sheer desperation that crossed your face.
Moving faster, you starting taking his cock at a pace that immediately made his hand coil tighter in your hair.
“Fuck… im gon’ come faster than I’d like if y’keep— shit— doing that.” He moans, and you draw back quickly.
“Need to taste it… please, Harry.” You beg, forcing your throat back down around him once you’d got a breathe.
You gagged around him in full this time, earning his hips bucking against you.
Strings of dirty talk and cusses were flying out of his mouth, like a litany being repeated over and over. He kept praising you.
“That warm mouth…fuck… fucking me so good baby. Want to keep y’down there for hours, like m’personal little cockslut.”
Your nails dug into the backs of his meaty thighs, making you moan around him. Spit was covering your chin as you moved hastily over his hard prick.
“Like that idea?” He asked gruffly, “making you drool all over me like this until I’m empty, an’ y’ve come in y’panties to the point you’re dripping.”
You feverishly bob your head, sucking hard against him. If his bucking hips and loose mouth are any indicator, he’s getting close.
A few more minutes of your mouth, and he’s swearing, “im gonna come, dove— fuck— where do y’want it?”
Trying not to stop to long, looking up at his flushed face and blown out eyes, you lowly plead, “on my tongue, please…”
“Good slut, good fucking girl!” He slurs out.
You draw back to his tip, eager to taste him properly. You spit messily over his pulsing red head, kitten licking over it while your hand fucks the rest of his length at a fast pace.
It has him a wreck, and before he know it, he’s moaning out so loud he’s almost scared he woke someone in the house up.
“Fuck! I’m going to come, baby, im gonna come!”
You watch in completely infatuation as his eyes screw shut and his mouth drops into a gasp for air. You feel his hips stutter, and his cock pulse and twitch as it releases onto your awaiting tongue.
He tastes so good. You feel ashamed for even liking it that much, but as it spurts out his tip and drips onto your lower lip, your insane over it.
You rub it in with his tip, coating it over your tongue, and he pants as he opens his eyes to watch you.
It’s a sight etched into his mind forevermore. The fact his come is painted all over your tongue right now.
“Swallow it, pretty girl, let me watch.” He exhaustedly instructs you, voice raspy and deep in his post orgasm haze.
You do as told, and realising some has spilt even onto the corner of his thigh now that you’ve let him go.
Not letting it go to waste, you clean it off with a lick of your still eager mouth. Gently kissing over the spot as well.
“Taste so good, H.” You whisper against him, moving over to kiss his tip a final time.
“Thank you, again. For letting me do that…” You almost feel more satisfied than you would have if you had gotten to come as well.
“Made me feel amazing, baby.”
Or so you thought, because once he raised the point again… “If you want, since I can only imagine how desperate your little cunt is, I can return the favour somehow?”
And it was impossible to say no when he looked like that, boxers still half down his beautiful legs and face flushed that sexy shade of red.
You were in for a night, that was for sure. So much for an early morning.
———
#harry styles#harry styles smut#harry styles fanfiction#fanfiction#harry styles imagine#harry styles fluff#harry styles oneshot#harry styles x reader#harry styles x you#harry styles x y/n#harry styles writing#harry styles one shot#he’s so#fuck me I need him so bad#anyways#hope you enjoyed#ily#last oneshot of 2023
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