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pucksandpower · 16 hours

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Used to be Mine

Oscar Piastri x Reader

Arthur Leclerc x ex!Reader

Summary: Oscar stole everything from Arthur … his hopes, his dreams, his family name, and you

Arthur slumps in the hard chair across from Jock Clear’s desk, the Ferrari Driver Academy director’s words echoing in his mind. “I’m very sorry Arthur, but we’ve decided not to renew your contract for next season. You’ll be released from the program at the end of this year.”

Arthur feels like he’s been punched in the gut. This can’t be happening. He’s poured his heart and soul into racing for Ferrari’s junior program for years. His dream has always been to follow in his older brother Charles’ footsteps and race for the Scuderia in Formula 1.

“But … why?” Arthur manages to choke out. “I know my results this season haven’t been that great but fifteenth in the F2 standings-”

Clear shakes his head solemnly. “Your pace and racecraft simply haven’t developed at the rate we need to see to justify keeping you in the program, Arthur. I know how hard you’ve worked, but there are other young talents coming up behind you showing greater potential.”

The word “potential” hits Arthur like a dagger. Ever since he was a kid, that’s what he’s heard over and over — unfavorable comparisons to Charles’ unlimited potential. He always knew his big brother was special behind the wheel, but he’d clung to the hope that he could make it to F1 through sheer hard work and determination if not raw talent.

Clearly that hope was misguided. Arthur feels the sting of failure wash over him.

“I … I understand,” he forces out, struggling not to break down in tears right there. “Thank you for the opportunity.”

He stands up shakily, the room spinning. He needs to get out of here.

The drive back to his family’s home in Monaco is a blur. Arthur’s mind races, years of sacrifice and struggle swirling in his head. Endless days and nights on the simulator. Grueling hours in the gym, pushing his body to its limits. Tormenting himself over endless data traces, looking for even a tenth of a second to gain an edge.

All for nothing. The harsh truth is he’ll never be good enough. No matter how hard he tries, the Leclerc name will always belong to Charles. Arthur will be forever known as his little brother, the one who couldn’t quite cut it.

He slams his fist against the steering wheel, angry tears now streaming down his face. Why did he ever think he could do this? Why didn’t he just pursue something, anything else with his life? He’s wasted years chasing an impossible dream, and now he has nothing to show for it.

His phone rings, almost slipping out of his trembling hands before he can answer. It’s you.

“Y/N ...” Arthur chokes out, trying and failing to hold back his sobs.

“Arthur? Oh my god, what’s wrong?” You ask, panic in your voice even through the tinny speaker. Of course you can sense something is desperately wrong. You’ve always been there for him, the one person who truly understands what he’s been going through.

Arthur can barely get the words out between ragged breaths. “The … the FDA ... they’re releasing me ... it’s over ...”

There’s stunned silence on the other end of the line.

“Arthur, I ...” You trail off, at an uncharacteristic loss for words. You know how much this has meant to him. How much of himself he’s given to this endeavor. “I’m coming over right now, okay? Don’t do anything stupid. I’ll be there in ten minutes.”

You hang up before Arthur can respond. He’s not sure if that’s a good thing or not. Part of him wants to wallow in despair alone. But mostly he’s grateful you’re coming. He’s not sure he can handle this by himself right now.

Sure enough, you burst through the front door only a few minutes later. Arthur has collapsed on the couch, head in his hands as the tears continue to flow.

“Oh Arthur ...” You sit down beside him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and pulling him into an embrace. He turns and buries his face in your shoulder, no longer trying to hold anything back as ragged sobs wrack his body.

You just hold him, making soft hushing sounds and stroking his hair. You’ve seen him distraught before — after tough losses or crashes. But never quite like this. This is the cry of someone whose dreams have been shattered.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, Arthur’s sobs begin to subside into hitching breaths. You grab a tissue box from the end table and hand it to him.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, blowing his nose loudly. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I just … I don’t know what to do. What am I going to do now?”

You take his hand and give it a squeeze. “First, you’re going to breathe. This isn’t the end of the world, I promise. We’ll get through this.”

Arthur lets out a shaky exhale, trying to calm himself. You always have been the level-headed one. He leans back against the couch cushions, keeping your hand grasped tightly in his.

“I really thought I could make it, you know?” He says quietly. “I’ve given everything to this stupid dream ever since I was a kid. But I’ll never be good enough, will I? Not like Charles.”

You open your mouth to protest, but Arthur barrels on, unable to contain years of self-doubt and insecurity any longer.

“Don’t try to argue. We both know it’s true. Charles was always the special one. The one with the generational talent. I was just … there. Doing my best to keep up, but always a step behind no matter how hard I worked.”

You shake your head vehemently. “Arthur, that’s not true at all. You’re an incredible driver. Your work ethic and determination are-”

“Meaningless without the talent,” Arthur interrupts bitterly. “That’s all that matters in the end. And I don’t have it, not like Charles does. I’m just … normal. Ordinary. That’s why Ferrari has moved on.”

You move closer, taking Arthur’s face in your hands so he has to look you in the eye. “You listen to me, Arthur Leclerc. You are anything but ordinary, understand? You’ve accomplished more by the age of 23 than most people could dream of in their entire lives. Making it all the way to F2 and the Ferrari Driver Academy is incredible, no matter what happens next.”

Arthur tries to turn away, but you keep his gaze locked, your voice rising in intensity. “If you were ordinary, you wouldn’t have been able to push yourself so hard for so long. Ordinary people would have given up a long time ago. It’s your extraordinary drive and passion that have taken you this far.”

Tears are welling up in your eyes now. You can’t stand to see him diminishing himself like this.

“Besides,” you add, managing a small smile. “I may be biased, but I’ve always thought you were the most extraordinarily kind, caring, and hilarious person I know. That’s a kind of specialness in itself, you know.”

Arthur lets out a choked laugh, wiping at his eyes again. Leave it to you to know just what to say to raise his spirits, even a little. “You always have been weirdly good at these pep talks.”

“Well, someone has to keep your head from getting too big,” you quip back with a grin.

Arthur mock-gasps in feigned offense. “Why, you little ...”

He lunges at you, starting to mercilessly tickle your sides. You squeal with laughter, trying in vain to fight back as you quickly devolve into a giggling, flailing mess of limbs.

You’ve been reduced to teary hiccups when Arthur finally relents, allowing you both to catch your breath. He throws an arm around your shoulders, pulling you close.

“You’re the best,” he murmurs softly. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

You rest your head against his shoulder contentedly. “Let’s just take things one day at a time for now, okay? We’ll figure out what’s next together, like we always have.”

Arthur nods, feeling a deep sense of gratitude and love for his girlfriend. No matter what curveballs life has thrown your way, you’ve always supported and uplifted each other. He knows that won’t change, even if his racing dreams don’t pan out.

“Together,” he echoes, giving your hand one more tight squeeze. Whatever the future holds, he can get through it with you by his side.

Maybe his path won’t lead to Formula 1 after all. Arthur feels a pang of sadness and disappointment at that realization. But as long as he has his family — has you — to lean on, he knows he’ll be okay. That love and support is what has always truly mattered most, not chasing some impossible dream.

“You know, we should see if Charles wants to come over later,” Arthur says, the hint of a smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I haven’t roasted his abysmal fashion sense in way too long.”

You burst out laughing at that. Only Arthur could find his way back to laughing and joking so soon after having his world turned upside down. It’s just one of the many things you admire about him.

“Oh my god, yes please,” you reply once you’ve caught your breath. “His outfit at the last race was literally a crime against humanity. Someone needs to intervene before he traumatizes us all again.”

The two of you spend the next little while cheerfully trading escalating insults about his big brother’s admittedly questionable clothing choices. The mood has lightened considerably, at least for now.

Arthur knows the sting of his failure will return, the questions about what he should do next weighing heavily. But you’ll be there for those hard moments too, just like always. As long as he has you — his best friend, his other half — he can face any challenge life throws his way.

The uncertain road ahead is daunting. But Arthur meets it with determination burning in his eyes. If he couldn’t make it as a Formula 1 driver, he’ll simply have to find a new dream to chase. A new mountain to climb. Whatever it is, he knows you’ll be alongside him every step of the way.

***

Six Months Later

The roar of the engines fades as the cars return to the pits after qualifying. Arthur can’t tear his eyes away from the timing screens:

1. C. LECLERC

2. O. PIASTRI

A Leclerc front row lockout at their home race. Except one of them isn’t really a Leclerc at all.

“Nice one, Piastri-Leclerc!” One of the McLaren mechanics calls out as Oscar climbs from his car.

Arthur’s gut twists.

Oscar just grins and plays along. “Thanks, it’s all in the family name!”

A few of the Ferrari mechanics chuckle at that as Charles emerges from his own car, beaming. He pulls Oscar into a hug. “A Leclerc one-two in Monaco, who would have thought?”

“There’s just something about being a local,” Oscar laughs. “Thank you for giving me yet another home race.”

You appear then, throwing your arms around Oscar with a squeal. “My two favorite Leclercssss!”

Arthur has to look away, his face burning. He knows he has no right to be jealous. Oscar is one of his best friends. And you … you made your choice a long time ago.

“Arthur?” Fred Vasseur appears at his side. “You okay?”

Arthur forces a smile. “Yeah, all good. Just … focused.”

“No need to be so tense,” Fred squeezes his shoulder. “You did a great job in the sim this week. That data helped Charles and Carlos a ton.”

“Glad I could help,” Arthur says automatically.

But his gaze is drawn back to where you’re still hugging Oscar tightly. You look so happy, so carefree. It wasn’t that long ago that your smiles were for him.

“You know,” Fred says conversationally. “I’m getting a lot of questions about what you’ll decide to do next. Every time you’re in that sim or out on track-”

“I’m fine being test driver,” Arthur interrupts, maybe a little too brusque. “Really, I am.”

Fred studies him for a beat. “If you’re sure. Just saying, the doors are opening ...”

The team principal moves off then, leaving Arthur alone with his swirling emotions. He can’t get swept up in maybes about his future. Not when his past is standing right there, laughing at some joke Oscar made.

You’d think after all this time, the sight of you wouldn’t affect him so much. You broke his heart so thoroughly when you ended things, he didn’t think there were any pieces left to shatter. But here he is, a mess of jealousy and longing, just because you gave Oscar a hug.

“Arthur! There you are!”

He turns at the sound of your voice. You’re hurrying towards him, Oscar and Charles trailing behind with indulgent smiles.

“We’re going to get some dinner if you want to join?” You ask brightly.

He has to swallow hard before he can speak past the lump in his throat. “I … don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Of course it is!” You grab his arm, utterly oblivious to his discomfort. “We’re all friends here, right?”

“Some of you were a bit more than friends once upon a time,” Charles points out with a wicked grin.

You shove him playfully. “Oh shut up!”

Arthur feels like he’s being stabbed in the heart. Your break up turned his life upside down. Hearing you joke about it so casually now is excruciating.

“Seriously, Arthur,” Oscar cuts in. “Come celebrate with us. We promise not to get too crazy.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Arthur tries again, harsher this time.

You frown, tilting your head in confusion. “Why not? I thought we were all past the whole ex thing?”

“I am,” he lies through gritted teeth. “I just … have some stuff to work on for the race tomorrow.”

“Oh come on,” you wheedle, giving him that smile that used to make him melt. “Take a break! Live a little!”

Arthur can’t take much more of this. He needs to get out of here before he says something he’ll regret. Or worse, does something stupid like pull you into his arms and kiss you senseless.

“Seriously you guys, I’ve got work,” he says, forcing himself to take a step back from you. “I’ll … catch up with you later, okay?”

He doesn’t wait for a response, just turns on his heel and stalks away. He can’t bear to see the hurt, confused look on your face.

Why did he think this would be okay? That he could spend day after day around you and it wouldn’t still hurt? Every smile, every laugh, every touch you bestow on Charles and Oscar is like a white hot poker in his chest.

He thought he was over you. He really did. It’s been months since you ended things, months since you shattered what was left of his heart into a million pieces.

He’d been so shocked, so heartbroken, that all he could do was sit there numbly as you walked out of his apartment. When he finally found his voice, hours had passed, and you were long gone.

“But I love you,” he’d whispered into the empty room.

He’d been so sure you felt the same. That what you had was forever. But you made your choice, as simple as that. Arthur never came first.

And now, half a year later, here he is. Living out some twisted version of his dream … but only just. A test driver for Ferrari instead of a race driver like he always imagined. Like Charles, who had achieved everything they both wanted.

Arthur leans back against the wall of the cool, dark room he’s found himself in. It feels like the pain of your rejection is never going to stop haunting him. Like no matter how much time passes, it will never be enough to make up for losing you.

He squeezes his eyes shut, trying and failing to block out the memory of your face, your smile, your laugh. All the moments of pure joy you two had shared. The dreams you’d whispered to each other late at night, tangled in the sheets.

Is this his lot in life from now on? To watch you move on, all smiles and teasing jokes with Oscar and Charles? To see everyone welcoming Oscar into the family while Arthur is shut out in the cold?

He’s startled from his spiraling thoughts by a knock at the door. “Arthur? You in there?”

It’s Charles. Arthur flinches, swiping a hand over his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he calls back, grateful that his voice doesn’t shake.

There’s a pause. “Can I come in?”

Arthur considers sending his brother away. He’s in no state for a heart-to-heart right now.

But he can’t bring himself to refuse Charles. Not when they’ve been through so much together, from the karting tracks of their childhood to the highest levels of motorsport.

“Yeah, okay.”

The door opens and Charles slips inside. He stops short when he sees Arthur, brow furrowing in concern.

“Hey … you okay?”

Arthur can’t even find it in himself to fake it. He just shakes his head mutely.

“Is this about Y/N?” Charles asks gently.

And just like that, the dam breaks. Arthur squeezes his eyes shut again, but he can’t stop the tears from spilling over.

“I thought I was over her. I really did,” he chokes out. “But seeing her with Oscar … celebrating like that ...”

Strong arms wrap around him then, pulling him into a hug. Arthur goes boneless, sagging against his older brother as the sobs take over.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” Charles murmurs. “Let it out.”

Arthur does. He cries and cries, shoulders shaking, as months of pent-up heartache pour out of him. Charles just holds him through it, rubbing soothing circles across his back.

“I’m s-sorry,” Arthur finally gasps out. “I’m being so stupid ...”

“You’re not stupid,” Charles says firmly. “Love isn’t stupid, Arthur. Especially your first real heartbreak. That shit hurts like hell.”

Arthur lets out a watery chuckle, finally pulling back and swiping at his eyes. “How do you always know exactly what to say?”

“Well, I am the wise older brother,” Charles grins. Then he sobers, studying Arthur carefully. “Seriously though … you know Y/N loved you, right? What you two had was real.”

“I know.” Arthur shakes his head. “Doesn’t make it any easier seeing her move on so quickly.”

“She’s not over you either,” Charles says gently. “That’s why she keeps trying so hard to act like everything is normal between you two.”

Arthur scoffs. “Could’ve fooled me with all the cuddling up to Oscar out there.”

“Oh come on, you know that’s just a joke,” Charles says with a roll of his eyes. “Oscar is like family to us, same as you. That’s all it is.”

“Yeah? Well it didn’t look that way to me.”

“Arthur ...” Charles puts a hand on his shoulder. “I think you need to have an actual conversation with Y/N. Clear the air once and for all. This lingering stuff is only going to keep eating you up inside.”

“What if she really has moved on?” The thought is like a vise around Arthur’s heart. “What if she tells me she’s dating Oscar for real or something?”

“Then at least you’ll know,” Charles says simply. “It will hurt, yeah. But not knowing, constantly wondering … that’s so much worse. Trust me.”

Arthur is quiet for a long moment, turning Charles’ words over in his mind. Maybe his brother is right. Maybe it’s time to rip off the bandaid once and for all.

He nods slowly. “Okay. I’ll ... I’ll talk to her.”

“Good.” Charles pulls him in for another hug. “No matter what happens, you’ve got me, okay? We Leclercs need to stick together.”

Arthur manages a small smile at that, feeling just a bit lighter. “Yeah. We do.”

As he follows Charles out of the room, he catches sight of you across the paddock, laughing at something Oscar said. A familiar ache blooms in his chest.

But this time, he doesn’t run from it. This time, he’s going to face it head on. His heart may end up in even more pieces … or maybe, just maybe, it will finally start to mend.

Either way, at least he’ll know. No more lingering what ifs. Just the truth, whatever it may be.

He takes a deep, steadying breath, then starts making his way towards you.

***

Arthur’s steps falter as he rounds the corner of the McLaren garage. There you are with Oscar, bodies intertwined, lips locked in a heated kiss.

It feels like all the air has been sucked from Arthur’s lungs. He can’t breathe, can’t think. He just … freezes, rooted to the spot, watching in numb horror as the two of you make out shamelessly right there in the open.

This can’t be happening. It has to be some kind of twisted nightmare. But no matter how hard he blinks, the scene before him doesn’t change.

You and Oscar are really kissing. Properly sucking face like loved-up teenagers, hands roaming over each other greedily. Oscar has you backed up against the garage wall, bodies pressed flush together from chest to thigh.

Arthur feels like he’s going to be sick.

Finally, mercifully, you two break apart, foreheads pressed together as you both gasp for air. Arthur should look away, he knows he should, but he can’t seem to make himself move.

“So much for keeping it professional in the paddock, huh?” You murmur, voice husky.

Oscar lets out a breathless chuckle. “Who cares about professional? Not when I’ve got you all to myself for once.”

He leans in to kiss you again, but you put a hand on his chest, stopping him. “We should find somewhere more private if we’re gonna keep this up.”

“My driver’s room?” Oscar suggests, already palming at the small of your back.

You shiver, pushing up onto your tiptoes to brush your lips against his jaw. “Lead the way, Piastri-Leclerc.”

And just like that, you’re gone, disappearing into the depths of the McLaren garage, hands roaming and giggling like lovesick fools. Arthur watches until the door swings shut behind you, cutting off that haunting sound of your laughter.

Then he’s moving without conscious thought, staggering back around the corner and out of sight. His back hits the cool concrete wall with a thud, but he barely notices. Barely notices anything except the ragged, gasping breaths being torn from his lungs.

He doubles over, hands braced on his knees as he struggles not to vomit right there in the paddock. It feels like someone has driven a white hot poker straight through his chest. Like his heart is being crushed into a million pieces all over again.

Oscar and you … together? Actually dating? How … how could you do this to him? To yourself? Everything you two had built together, every future dream you had shared … tossed aside so easily?

Tears burn at the corners of Arthur’s eyes. He wants to scream, to punch a wall, to unleash the searing agony and fury ripping through him. But he can’t make a sound, throat locked up tight with unshed emotion.

He should have known, really. Should have seen this coming. It’s not like you and Oscar were hiding your connection. The loving looks, the inside jokes, that easy intimacy and affection … Arthur had just been too blinded by jealousy and heartbreak to see it.

But to find out like this? To literally walk in on you two wrapped around each other? It’s a whole new level of pain, lancing through him over and over. He’s always imagined that you would have the decency to at least tell him first if you moved on with someone new.

Unless this has been going on for a while already, hidden from him in plain sight. Every laugh, every hug, every teasing comment … was that all a lie to cover up your dirty secret with Oscar?

Arthur’s stomach churns violently again at the thought. He swallows hard, fighting back the nausea. He can’t lose it here, can’t draw any attention to himself. He needs to get it together, block out the image of you and Oscar swapping spit.

Easier said than done when his brain keeps unhelpfully replaying the way Oscar’s hands were roaming over you, groping at you like you belonged to him. And that laugh … god, that beautiful, carefree laughter that Arthur would know anywhere. A sound that used to make his heart soar whenever it was aimed at him.

Now it’s like a knife in his gut to hear you giggling that way with Oscar, no doubt blissed out after a hot and heavy make out session. Arthur’s jaw tightens, a muscle ticking furiously. He would give anything not to have walked in on that, not to have that sound burnt into his brain forever.

At least now he knows the truth. The humiliating, gut-wrenching truth that you’ve well and truly moved on from him. And with Oscar of all people, like the ultimate slap in the face.

What kind of cruel joke is this? Arthur wonders, still fighting to steady his ragged breaths. He loses the girl he wanted to spend forever with … only to have one of his mates swoop in and take her from him?

It’s not just you that Oscar has stolen either, Arthur realizes with a sickening jolt. It’s everything. With you on his arm, Oscar is welcomed into the family, called a Leclerc at their home race. Arthur’s own last name, treated like some kind of lighthearted joke while the real thing is ripped away from him.

Oscar even gets Monaco as a home race, just like the actual Leclercs who grew up here. All because of some dumb joke about Charles adopting him. Arthur had laughed along with it at the time, never imagining the underhanded truth.

Oscar Piastri has wormed his way into having everything Arthur wanted more than anything. The career, the family, the girl … all of it, just handed to him on a silver platter.

White hot fury flares in Arthur’s chest, momentarily burning through the heartbreak. How dare Oscar do this to him? How dare he make a mockery out of Arthur’s dreams, out of everything the name Leclerc stands for?

Arthur barely registers that he’s moving until his fist connects with the concrete wall with a sickening crunch. He lashes out again and again, pummeling the unforgiving surface over and over until-

“Arthur! Hey, whoa!”

Suddenly there are hands on him, strong and insistent. Arthur starts, accidentally slamming his abused knuckles into a firm chest as Charles appears, grabbing hold of his shoulders.

“Easy, easy! What the hell are you doing?” Charles meets his gaze, eyes wide with concern.

Arthur blinks dazedly, pain finally registering from his torn up, bleeding knuckles. “I … I didn’t ...”

“What happened?” Charles presses, lowering his voice when Arthur winces. “Did you get into it with someone? Talk to me, please.”

Arthur opens his mouth, fully intending to tell Charles everything. About walking in on your incriminating embrace with Oscar. About the way it felt like his entire world shattered all over again. How Oscar has stolen every single thing that should have been Arthur’s by birthright.

But when he tries to vocalize the words, to unleash the storm of emotions battering him from the inside out … nothing comes out. His throat remains locked up tight, breath wheezing harshly.

Charles is watching him, eyebrows knitted with worry. “You’re really freaking me out here. What’s going on?”

Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head helplessly. He feels like he’s drowning, lost in a whirlpool of jealousy and despair that’s slowly suffocating him.

When he opens his eyes again, Charles is still waiting, patient and steady as always. Something in his brother’s calm, anchoring presence helps Arthur regain just a little bit of control. Enough to grit out a few words.

“Oscar. And Y/N.”

That’s all he can manage. But judging by the dawning comprehension on Charles’ face, it’s enough. The older Leclerc lets out a slow breath, gaze turning sympathetic.

“You saw them together,” he says, not a question.

Arthur nods jerkily, jaw locked.

For a long moment, Charles is silent. Taking it all in, no doubt. Then … “I’m so sorry, Arthur.”

Arthur’s breath hitches harshly before he can stop it.

“Hey, hey.” Charles pulls him into a tight hug, tucking Arthur’s head under his chin. “It’s gonna be okay. I’ve got you, little brother.”

Arthur stiffens for just a second before melting into the embrace, squeezing his eyes shut once more. He takes a shuddery breath against Charles’ shirt, then another, just trying to hold himself together.

“I’m here,” Charles murmurs, rubbing his back soothingly. “We’ll get through this together, yeah?”

Arthur doesn’t trust himself to speak, so he just nods against Charles’ shoulder. He clings to his brother like a lifeline, grateful beyond words that Charles is here to anchor him when it feels like his world is crumbling all over again.

He has no idea how long they stay like that, locked in that tight embrace. Long enough for the sharp edges of Arthur’s anguish to dull, at least a little. Long enough for his ragged breaths to even out into something closer to normal.

Finally, Charles gives him one last squeeze before gently pulling back, keeping a firm grip on Arthur’s shoulders.

“Come on, let’s get you cleaned up,” he says, eyeing Arthur’s bloodied knuckles with a wince.

Arthur follows his gaze, grimacing at the sight. “Shit, I ...”

“It’s okay,” Charles says quickly, sliding an arm around Arthur’s back. “I’ve got you.”

He guides Arthur through the paddock, shielding him from view with his body. Arthur is grateful for the discretion — the last thing he needs right now is prying eyes and questions about his meltdown.

They make it back to the cool shadows of the Ferrari motorhome without incident. Charles sweeps them into one of the private rooms, locking the door securely behind them.

“There, just us,” he says, squeezing Arthur’s arm reassuringly. “Why don’t you sit down and tell me what happened?”

Arthur sinks down onto the worn sofa, feeling numb and drained. He stares at his mangled hands as Charles darts away, returning a moment later with a first aid kit and a damp cloth.

“This might sting,” Charles warns, taking Arthur’s hands with surprising gentleness.

Arthur barely flinches as his brother starts cleaning away the blood and grit from his torn skin. He’s retreated deep inside his own head, memories from that hellish scene on an endless loop.

You and Oscar, tangled together so intimately. The way you looked at each other, breathless with desire. The easy intimacy and obvious hunger in every heated caress.

Arthur squeezes his eyes shut, but it does nothing to block it out. He’s never going to be able to unsee that, he realizes with a sick lurch. It’s seared into his brain forever, a brand new source of unrelenting torment.

“Arthur?” Charles’ soft voice cuts through his spiraling thoughts. “What happened? Talk to me.”

Arthur blows out a shaky breath, forcing himself to meet his brother’s concerned gaze.

“I went to find Y/N,” he starts in a dull rasp. “To … to get some closure, I guess. Finally rip off the bandaid like you said.”

Charles nods in understanding, staying quiet to let Arthur continue at his own pace.

“But when I turned the corner of the McLaren garage ...” Arthur’s throat works convulsively, the memory surging back in vivid technicolor. “They were there. Making out like a couple of horny teenagers.”

He falls silent again, the words cutting off as a wave of fresh agony washes over him. God, the visual is never going to stop haunting him, is it?

“Oh, Arthur ...” Charles murmurs, squeezing his hands gently. “I’m so sorry.”

Arthur lets out a bitter huff. “Sorry? Don’t be sorry for me, Charles. Be sorry for yourself.”

Charles frowns in confusion. “What are you talking about?”

“Oscar,” Arthur grits out, white-hot anger flaring once more. “He stole her from me, sure. But he also stole our name. He gets to be a Leclerc now, a mockery of our home streets. Just because you stupidly joked about adopting him.”

He surges to his feet, unable to stay still with all this wrath and hurt burning through him.

“Everything that was supposed to be mine, Charles!” He shouts, prowling the room like a caged animal. “The career, the family, the girl … Oscar has taken it all! With a few laughs and some dumb jokes!”

“Arthur, that’s not fair ...” Charles tries, but Arthur barrels right over him.

“No? Well how about this — let’s see how funny those jokes are when Oscar decides he actually wants to be Charles Leclerc!” Arthur snarls. “He’ll take your career next, you watch! Take away everything that makes you special, everything that’s yours by right!”

“Arthur.” Charles is on his feet now, reaching out to grip Arthur’s shoulders firmly. “Listen to me. You need to calm down, okay? Oscar isn’t trying to take anything from us. He’s our friend!”

“How can you say that?” Arthur demands, anguish cracking through the rage. “Don’t you see what he’s done? What he’s taking from me?”

He’s breathing hard now, vision swimming as tears of mingled fury and heartbreak prick at his eyes.

“That was supposed to be my future, Charles,” he rasps. “Y/N and I … we had plans. Dreams of a life together.”

Arthur swipes angrily at the tear that escapes, blurring his vision. “Oscar doesn’t get to take that from me. He doesn’t get to make it all a mocking joke.”

“Arthur ...” Charles looks stricken now, shaking his head slowly. He pulls Arthur into another fierce hug, tucking the younger man’s head under his chin.

“I’m so sorry,” Charles murmurs, voice thick with emotion. “I’m so sorry he hurt you like this. You don’t deserve that … any of it.”

Arthur lets out a choked sob against his brother’s shirt, all of the fight abruptly draining from him. He’s just … tired. Wrung out and hollow, aching down to his very core.

“This wasn’t how it was supposed to go, Charles,” he whispers brokenly. “Oscar was my friend … how could he do this to me?”

Charles doesn’t seem to have any answers. He just holds Arthur tighter, rocking them gently from side to side as Arthur finally gives in to his emotions. He buries his face in Charles’ shoulder and weeps — for his shattered dreams, his shredded heart, and a future that now feels impossibly out of reach.

As the sobs gradually subside, a final bitter thought takes root in Arthur’s mind. If Oscar is going to steal away the girl Arthur loves, the family he was born into, and the future he had mapped out for himself ... then Arthur hopes to god the Monaco curse falls on Oscar just as harshly as it ever has for a Leclerc.

Maybe then Oscar will finally understand just how much he’s taken from Arthur. How many dreams and pieces of Arthur's very identity he’s carelessly crushed in his quest to make himself a Leclerc on everything but paper.

Arthur’s tears have dried, leaving his cheeks chafed and eyes swollen. But the hollow ache in his chest remains, throbbing in time with his ragged breaths. He stays huddled against Charles, taking what little solace he can from his brother’s presence.

It’s all he has left now. Oscar has snatched away everything else that ever mattered to Arthur. His future, his past, his home ... all of it, gone in a spiral of heated kisses and breathless laughter.

If the cost of having it all is the Monaco curse bearing down on him, then so be it. Arthur finds himself almost hoping Oscar gets everything he so greedily took, the consequences be damned. Maybe then, just maybe, he’ll finally understand an ounce of the anguish and heartbreak he’s inflicted on Arthur.

It’s a dark, vindictive thought, one that makes Arthur's gut twist with shame. But he’d too drained, too devastated to truly care. He just presses closer to Charles, craving the simple comfort of family as reality crushes him from all sides.

His dreams, his heart, his identity ... all stolen by a former friend turned ultimate betrayer. If the Monaco curse is all Arthur has left to cling to, then so be it.

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cloudcountry · 3 days

Note

I sent my request via dms but I'm still sending an ask for the sake of it, woops

Remember to hydrate and unshrimp :}

SUMMARY: idia doesn't how how to react when you show up at his door late at night and reveal something as earth shattering as your most recent breakup.

COMMENTS: we talked about this in dms but i hope you like the finished product!! <3

I CANT TELL IF THIS OR ANGST OR FLUFF. MAN.

reading this against its def angst oops

idia has issues but you're gonna get him through them trust 💪

The sound of mindless clicking, fans whirring, and Idia’s steady breathing are the only sounds that can be heard this late at night. It’s not that the residents of Ignihyde are sleeping—no, they’re all tucked away in their rooms, either tinkering with new tech or in the same position Idia is now. His lower back starts to ache from his slouched position in his chair, and so he straightens out his back to ease the pain. His spine cracks once, twice, thrice before settling down, and Idia promptly falls back into his old posture.

He briefly hears your voice in his mind, a reminder to sit up straight and not surf the web too late. He blinks slowly, briefly considering obeying your imaginary command, before he rationalizes using his PC more because you’re not actually here, you’re out with your boyfriend right now.

Or so he thinks.

It’s as though he summoned you, your knock on his door, a secret knock that only you would ever use. Idia insisted on a precaution like that so he’d know when it was safe to open the door and when it wasn’t. So far you hadn’t abused the privilege, never using it when you had friends with you. In fact, Idia was fairly certain you’d created a new knocking pattern recently when you had friends with you, just so he could know it was okay to respond but he didn’t have to open the door if he didn’t want to.

It's the knock that tells him you're alone.

So this time, he wants to.

He stands up, pushing his gamer chair to the side as his joints creak from being held in one position for far too long. He stalks over to the door, shaking hands reaching towards the doorknob. Because of your boyfriend, he’s always kept his feelings about you under wraps, wanting your happiness first and foremost. Besides, in what world would anyone be interested in him? He wouldn’t even want to associate with you like that, the thought of dragging you into his darkness was too much.

The doorknob turns and his door creaks open, a sliver of light spilling into his room until the rest of it is blocked by you. Idia opens his mouth to ask what you’re doing at his door this late, especially since you have a boyfriend and if anyone should be hanging out with you this late it really should be him and—

And—

And you have never looked more serious. It makes the words die in his throat, his lips parted like a fool.

“Do you have time to talk?” you ask softly, shifting from foot to foot in your pajamas and oh Great Seven, did you walk across campus like that? There were so many bugs out at night and snakes too, and what if you tripped because you couldn’t see where you were going? You came alone, WHY would you come alone this late? You could have gotten hurt—

His hands are twitching as your eyes drift down towards them, watching silently as they shake towards and away from you, like he wants to touch you but isn’t sure if he can. You initiate, taking his hands in yours and gently pushing him back into his room, nudging the door shut with your foot as quietly as possible.

“Um...what are you doing here this late?” Idia asks softly, his hands in yours, still twitching restlessly.

“I had to tell you something. It’s nothing bad on your part, before you start overthinking. It’s something to do with my boyfriend, now ex.” you say, each word purposeful and slow, like you’re picking your words very carefully in your sleepy haze.

“You broke up?” Idia murmurs, ignoring the way his heart jumps in his throat.

Of course he’s happy you’re single now. Of course he is. But that doesn't mean now is the time to start fantasizing about actually dating you. Oh who is he kidding, he wouldn’t be starting that, he’s been doing that. The last thing he needs to his feelings getting in the way and making things hard for you, you’ve been his best friend for years now, ever since he came to NRC you’ve always been in his corner, even though sometimes you don’t get to see each other that often and he’s not going to fuck this up because he likes you more than he should, no way is he going to fuck this up—

“Yeah. We broke up a few weeks ago.” you say, moving your hands from his and pressing them into your thighs.

“Oh.” Idia says dumbly.

You smile weakly, glancing around his room before gesturing to his bed. Idia feels his heart in his throat again—it’s the only place with room to sit, yeah, but it’s so messy and oh Great Seven what if his manga makes you think he’s weird and you never want to speak to him again.

You don’t even spare a glance at his mess. You just sit down and clench your hands in your lap, watching him as he sits down next to you. His eyes land on your hands, white knuckled and shaking, and it squeezes his heart when he thinks about just what your boyfriend could have done to hurt you like this.

Your ex, he means. Your ex. He’s never going to be your boyfriend again, even if he apologizes, because as much as you’re hurting right now Idia knows you'll only come back stronger for it.

It’s one of the reasons why he admires you so much.

“It...wasn’t something I was planning on broadcasting. And as far as I know, he hasn’t told anyone either. Not that he’s good at telling people things.” you remark bitterly, a frown twisting your lips.

“Was he not talking to you?” Idia asks, balling his hands into fists in his lap much like you.

“No. He wasn’t.” you sigh, looking down at his floor, “He wasn’t at all.”

His room grows silent again, but Idia hopes you don’t hear the gears in his brain turning. He wants to make things better for you, he wants to make sure all the time you have left with each other is good for you, he wants to make sure you can live the rest of your life happy with the knowledge that you’ll never have to think about this guy.

He wants you to be happy so he can let you go after you two become seniors.

“Is...there anything I can do?” he mumbles, eyes darting around the room for a distraction, “Um, I made a mini planetarium projection for Ortho since he likes the stars so much and I think I have it somewhere in here—”

He knows exactly where it is. Like he’d ever forget.

“—I have some games, um...which ones do you like? I probably have something—”

He’s fairly certain you’d love the game sitting on the bottom shelf of his desk. It reminds him of you whenever he plays it.

“—or would you like to watch anime? Read a manga? You can leave too, that’s okay, just let me walk you home so you don’t get hurt—”

Not again, at least. But he’ll do anything to keep you here with him.

You cut him off with a small giggle, your balled up fists now pressed up against your face in relaxed palms, covering your mouth as your eyes crinkle in the corners.

“I’d love to stay. Thank you, Idia.” you smile softly and move your hands away from your mouth, and Idia feels his heart jump into his throat again because of course you’d know.

You’ve always known.

He swallows back a wave of sadness as his mind reminds me once again that he will leave you one day, and that day will come sooner than he wants it too, that he’s cursed and he shouldn’t taint you too—

“Anything is good as long as it’s with you.” you laugh quietly, falling back onto his bed with a soft thump.

It’s like you were always meant to be there.

#rubia <3 #auburn's fics <3 #twst #twst wonderland #twisted wonderland #disney twst #idia shroud #idia shroud x reader #disney twisted wonderland #gn reader #twst x reader #twisted wonderland x reader

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likedovesinthewindd · 3 days

Text

advantage, me; part six of sore loser ⋆ masterlist

summary: you're looking forward to a good match | content/warning: explicit language, light angst (more like tension) | tags: @midwestprincesss | a/n: this is lowk my least favorite chapter ngl

"Ignore it," Patrick huffed as his mouth continued its attack on your poor neck. You hummed in agreement, doing just that as you felt his left hand running its course over your skin, the right one next to your head to keep most of his weight off of you.

It wasn't even five seconds before the knocking started again, causing a unanimous grunt from both you and Patrick. "Wait, maybe it's my roommate," you said, lightly pushing at Patrick's shoulders.

He rolled off of you with a huff, landing on his back as he placed his arms behind his head. You gave his chest a playful slap, getting up and smoothing out your dress as you made your way to the door, opening it with little haste.

"Hey, can we talk?"

You've never wanted to punch someone more. You narrowed your eyes at him, taking a breath before giving him a "No."

"Please, I just want to apologize," Art said, and you strongly fought the urge to roll your eyes at him. "You can apologize tomorrow, okay?" you smiled, moving the close the door, but he stopped you. "Art, it's late," you sighed. "I couldn't sleep," he said softly. "Now you're making that my problem?" "Please?" he tried again.

"You alright?"

Could you punch two people at the same time?

Patrick came to the door, growing curious at why you had been gone for so long. When he saw Art at the door, he was a little surprised, the cigarette he had lit in the meantime hanging from his lips.

"You can't do that in here," you said, annoyance laced in your words as you waved the cloud of smoke away from your face. He muttered a half-assed apology, moving back inside your dorm to dispose of the cigarette. You watched as he walked back inside and into the bathroom.

You turned back to Art, an expression on his face that so clearly read what is he doing here?

"What are you doing here, man?" Patrick asked as he rejoined the two of you. The tension was definitely there, something unspoken hanging in the air, even if none of you would admit it. "I could ask you the same thing," Art said with a humorless laugh. Patrick scratched the back of his neck.

"I think that's obvious," he smirked, and you wanted to smack that stupid smirk on his face. Something about his smugness regarding the situation rubbed you the wrong way. "Besides," he added, "It's like twelve AM."

"I just wanted to talk to her."

"At twelve AM?"

"I think you should leave." Both boys turned to look at you, the silent showdown stopped right in its tracks. "Look, Art—"

"Both of you," you clarified, already moving further inside the dorm. You had all but gently pushed Patrick outside, moving to close the door. You had truly imagined and hoped the night would end much differently, but they both had managed to piss you off.

"I'll see you Saturday, okay?" you smiled at him – that same smile you had been sporting all night – and for a second, he forgot you were literally kicking him out. Neither of them got another word in before the door was pushed closed, followed by the sound of the lock turning.

Patrick looked back at his friend, the same confused expression on his face. He landed a slap to the back of Art's head, successfully waking him from whatever trance he had been in. "Nice going, man," Patrick muttered, already down the hall and on his way outside, resulting in Art having to run after him.

𖦹 ⊹ ˚.

The unforgiving sun sat idle in the sky, shining directly over the pavillion and covering it a heat blanket that was something akin to being smothered. You waved the little paper fan dutifully, eyes focused on the boys as they stood across from each other.

Your eyes momentarily met Art's, his face pinched in concentration as his hand bounced the ball like muscle memory. You shifted your attention over to Patrick, his eyes stuck on Art as he waited for his opponent's next move.

You had watched Art play a few times before, but this would be the first time you watched Patrick. Art alone was a pretty good player, and from what you've heard, they made a mean doubles team. But watching them play against each other? There was nothing like it; they seemed to understand each other on a very deep level. It was intense, intimate almost.

The sound of a punched out grunt takes you from your daydream, realizing Art had already served and that the game was already in full swing. You watched attentively, head going back and forth between the two.

The match had ended with a win for Patrick, his face smug and cocky as he looked up at you, giving you a wink. You had managed to find both of them after the tournament, both extra exhausted from the heat. "That was a very good game," you told both of them as you handed each a bottle of water, which they accepted gratefully.

"I think we should celebrate. All three of us," you suggested, eyeing the boys' reaction. They wordlessly brought the bottles from the mouths, urging you to continue. "What do you guys think?" you asked. A jumbled answer of yes of course and yeah that's sounds good was given before Patrick excused himself to go and take a shower and change. You waited for Art to join him, but he stayed behind, waiting until Patrick was out of earshot.

"Does this mean—"

"I'm not mad at you anymore, Art," you reassured him with a smile. "And I'd like for you to join tonight. I miss hanging out with you," you added, raising your eyebrows expectantly, before being on your way.

𖦹 ⊹ ˚.

#challengers #challengers x reader #art donaldson x reader #art donaldson x you #art donaldson #patrick zweig x reader #patrick zweig x you #patrick zweig #likedovesinthewindd

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whatifyoulivelikethat · 1 day

Text

never not mine, m | jjk | "... in your eyes."

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

You'll find that you were never not mine. Wandering sometimes leads to finding. Finding sometimes leads to the truth. The truth sometimes leads to pinning someone to the wall and kissing them. But only if it feels right.

part i | part ii | this is part iii

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; sloooow burn; exes-to-lovers / second chance romance; angst and fluff and feels; your POV; smut (nipple play, scratching / marking, handjob, cum-eating / feeding, fingering, penetrative sex - missionary, doggy)

non-idol!AU; fashion model!Jungkook — ft fellow model/actor!Kim Taehyung and model/businessman!Kim Seokjin; reader is not part of the entertainment industry

“What is the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?”

The most important lesson I’ve learned, huh… I think I would say that even though this world is difficult, tough, downright unbearable at times, it is okay to be comforted by the small things. I think a lot of people ignore those small things when they’re upset since they seem frivolous or out-of-touch to appreciate when you are having a hard time. But those are the most important times to enjoy them. We should not feel guilty about a small happiness. A taste of a favorite sweet. The sunset sky when you look up. Laughing with a friend even though everything around you feels dark. These moments will become the stars that will light up your universe in this black world.

For such a friendly, unassuming young man in a suit, he had been such a poet.

At first, you wondered if this was something you could apply on to your life. You had asked, it works in reverse too, doesn’t it?

He had tilted his head, inquisitive. What do you mean?

Small, painful things can slowly but surely break a reverie too, if you don’t take notice of them.

Ah. You’re right.

Each conversation had been insightful in its own way. The woman in the white dress. The most important lesson I’ve learned is loyalty. You might not make as much money or be as famous as you would if you turned your back on someone, but money and fame are fleeting. If you nurture those around you well, you will live a fulfilled life. The man with the silvery-blonde hair and white dress shirt. What an odd question. For me… to be proud of doing what I want to do, even if I may not measure up to the success of others. When I was younger, I thought it was more important to reach a massive audience, to have many people see my color. But now... I don’t think that’s what I want. I want to be an important part of someone’s life, short-term or long-term. I want my time to count to those who count. The woman in a tight denim number and lots of colorful bracelets. It’s important to be yourself. No one walks the same path. You might be too much for some but you might be just right for others, and those people will end up understand you best. The last one, a man with a bright smile and black dress shirt that seemed to barely contain his energy. An important lesson, huh? I guess I would say, go for it. Sometimes I’m uneasy or not confident in a new situation, and I have to remember to just go for it. Yeah, I think I’ve learned a lot from just doing rather than thinking too long about it. The only thing holding me back was being scared. But, being scared doesn’t mean you can’t take action. It means you can, because you have the strength to acknowledge your fear.

Yes, well.

Going for it sort of ended in smashing over a million won worth of liquor into the ground.

You couldn’t blame the advice though. Honestly, you were glad for it. You were glad for each and every connection you made tonight with those strangers. You weren’t sure if Kim Seokjin had set it all up or if each one had approached from their own curiosity. A mixture of both, maybe. Before, they had all been only pretty faces. A shallow judgement for each individual’s hopes, dreams, and realities. You were sure that was Seokjin’s plan – for you to see for yourself what kind of world you were in.

Maybe not so vapid after all.

A little silly, perhaps.

“Hmph, well, at least I can thank you for not letting me walk into a porn scene.”

You winced as Kim Seokjin folded his arms. You both had stopped at the end of the hallway with Seokjin waving the guards away to speak to you directly. Your feet were mildly hurting from standing up for so long. It could have also been due to the emotionally draining past hour.

“I had no intentions of that,” you protested.

Those perfect brows furrowed in disbelief. “Uh huh.”

You made a face. “Nothing was happening back there.”

“Uh huh,” Seokjin tittered again.

You couldn’t keep looking up at him anymore. He held a hand up as you shifted your eyes to the wall, crossing your arms too. Mostly to keep warm. And to hide a bit.

“Nu uh, I don’t want to know what dirty things you two were talking about.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “It’s not like that–”

Seokjin cut you off abruptly. “Did it help?” he inquired pointedly. “Did smashing one of my most expensive bottles of alcohol provide the catharsis you were looking for?”

You felt your cheeks heat. “S-Sorry, I’ll pay for it–”

“Hmph!” He sounded and looked offended. “I don’t need money. I have plenty of that. What I don’t have plenty of is somewhat sane people in my life. I watched you destroy public property and slap one of my security guys as if it was a normal Friday night for you.”

You cowered a bit. “Ah… I’ll apologize to him too.”

Seokjin sighed. He was a refined man with a hint of childishness that gave him eternal youth.

“I was glad to see it.”

He laughed slightly, shaking his head. You stared at him.

“I was nearly afraid that dating Jeon Jungkook had broken you.”

Wait.

“Broken me?”

His large shoulders slumped a little. “Ah, it was… It was so obvious. With Jungkook, too. It was as if the light had been sucked out of him. And you. There was a coldness about you that formed. I worried if you could hear all the whispers behind hands. Hoped Jungkook-ah had shielded you from them or, I don’t know, made you impervious somehow. But you could feel it too, couldn’t you? The ostracization. And he had contributed to it, in time.”

He had noticed.

That was enough to touch your heart.

You faltered. “It’s none of your fault. Or his circle of friends.”

Seokjin waved his hand. “Of course not. But it was still there. Hearing mindless droning all day is still a minor annoyance that builds up to a hornet’s nest over time. And I – no, we – spoke up too late.” He lowered his arms, defeated. “There isn’t much I can do, I know. But I wanted you to know that not everyone among us feels that way. Not everyone has their head in the clouds. Not just my circle of friends, but lots of people in this industry are good people with good intentions who are much better at comforting words than I am.”

You felt a surge of gratitude. Maybe for the first time tonight, you felt like crying. You lifted your head to soft, black brown eyes that were the windows to a big heart.

“Thank you.”

He seemed taken aback. “Ah… Right. Yes, you’re welcome,” he mumbled awkwardly.

You bowed to him.

“S-Stop that!” He smacked your shoulder with a mix of panic and defiance. “Don’t be ridiculous. And, anyway, I didn’t even succeed! You still ended up in an altercation with that big-nosed dongsaeng of mine. Hah…”

You laughed a little. “Ah, I’m sorry about that too. It was my fault he was so riled up.”

Seokjin gave you a contemptuous look that would put even the most disapproving aunt to shame. “No, really?”

You tried not to laugh. He was making it very difficult. It was probably the designer suit and corporately-parted hair mixed with his cartoonish reaction. “Please don’t be too hard on him.”

He made a disgruntled face as if he had to deal with an obnoxious puppy. “You should be worried about me. I’m sure he’s back there stomping his feet and being a stubborn little shit. Hah, well. I’ll have security escort you to your car waiting outside. Don’t slap anybody.”

You pouted. His youthfulness was infectious. “Aish, I won’t. I know my limits.”

“If only your other half did.” Seokjin threw up his hands in exasperation. “Go before I change my mind.”

He wouldn’t.

You backed off anyway, letting Seokjin saunter off, and was greeted halfway to the door by a kind security guard who didn’t ask if you were going to slap him. He did seem amused though. He was professional enough to keep it to himself, leading you to a side entrance where a black car was waiting to take you home after a very long and enlightening night.

Night felt different now.

Days felt different too, but the change wasn’t as obvious due to the hours consumed by work. There was plenty of distraction during the day, although you became strangely aware to how the world seemed different. How the sunlight seemed brighter. How there seemed to be a rhythm to the birds’ wings as they flapped away. How you occasionally caught yourself scanning the faces on streets, looking for something.

Someone.

But the sunset is when you noticed the shadows dancing around you. As the day died, you watched people slip from their responsibilities to their desires. A warm meal. A visit to the store to pick up a visual treat or a world within pages. A chance to see a familiar face, ending in a hug or, if lucky, a kiss. Stories within bodies.

You, too.

You found yourself at the movie theater again. You spent a moment, scanning the titles, picking an action movie you had never heard of. Even splurged for the popcorn, shaking it up in the bag with the salty, garlicky powder getting on your fingertips. You spotted a few clusters of friends. Couples. But also a few single individuals that were busy getting comfortable in their seats, placing their belongings just so, as if they did this all the time.

So, you too, sat down and placed your black bow purse beside you, adjusting your popcorn bag to the perfect snacking distance. It was exciting as the lights dimmed to black, enjoying the music score in surround sound, sucked into another world of imaginary action that you could safely enjoy despite all the bullets.

With popcorn, of course.

It felt different now.

It was only after you made your way home that you realized why.

And you smiled.

Another night, you decided to stop by the mall. Not to buy anything really, but to listen to the music at each of the stores. In this day and age of everything online, it was rare for you to make the effort. It was different now though, somehow. Honestly, not so bad. You purchased an overpriced drink and pretended to look at all the clothes as you listened to what was popular right now. Occasionally, you heard something interesting and pulled out your phone to search for the title of the song vis one of the lyrics, the usual way you used to do it. There were definitely apps for identifying songs instantly now, you thought, but there was something hands on and extra satisfying of replicating an old process.

You found yourself in front of a wall of skirts.

You looked up at the colors, the patterns, and saw nothing of what was currently in your wardrobe.

At work, you were required to dress semi-professionally. A lot of single-color blouses, long black skirts, simple silhouette dresses. A cardigan was your idea of spicing it up. In fact, today you were in a maroon button-up blouse with a high neck and billowy sleeves, and your signature long black skirt. Black heels with a cross strap detail, nothing special. Before, while you were dating Jungkook, you had borrowed a lot of clothes, as they had been required for specific events. Transactions. Nothing you personally owned, nor needed to. Even the small, tight dresses that you had purchased for dates you didn’t own anymore. You had donated them all. They had been purchased with the intent to look like a model’s girlfriend. Not to look like, well.

Yourself.

A pink gingham miniskirt with small red strawberries stitched onto it caught your eye.

You left the store with a brown bag with a few parcels wrapped in pink tissue paper and a lighter bank account. Did you know where you were going to wear these clothes? Nope. It was different, buying without a purpose, and yet.

It was an excuse to find an occasion.

You settled on a bench with a smile.

You held your drink and lifted your head, watching people walk past. Seeing glimpses of their stories through the windows of shops. A surprised face at seeing something they wanted. A look of bliss once they took a sniff of a scented candle. A wringing of hands in front of a gift shop, running out of time and paralyzed by decision. You took a sip, wondering if they would be successful. Your thoughts wandered, as they always did. I have someone. Individual realities parallel to yours, with the occasional interaction a demonstration of interaction. Moments that required moving against the natural course for a purpose. Sometimes a brief purpose, and sometimes entangled because they wanted to be.

The question was, did you want to be?

You had become aware of how your line had been. Dulled by distraction, lacking intersections, moving the lonely course without remorse. All the small things becoming a blur of monotony. The roses had become colorless from the coldness that you had inadvertently held onto.

Bit by bit, you were finding color once more.

You stood up with your empty cup, hurrying to find the appropriate trash can to dispose it in.

“Hey, excuse me!”

You started.

A mother with her arm around a small child’s shoulders waved at you. “Your shopping.”

“Oh, sh–sorry!”

You went back, bowing repeatedly as you picked up the brown bag, startled that you had forgotten your quite expensive purchases. The child shook their head at you. You sheepishly laughed, letting yourself be scolded by the kid. “An adult shouldn’t be so careless!” Well, that was a bit harsh, but you thanked them anyway, waving as you parted.

You turned around, returning to your escape route.

Careless, huh?

Maybe the kid was right.

Someone in black was walking down the path. A man. He was walking fast. An oversized grey beanie with dark hair poking out. Body drowning in a slashed black hoodie and ripped jeans. Black boots. Black face mask. It was a bit odd because he was wearing sunglasses inside. Still, there was no reason for you to look twice. He looked up.

Somehow you knew your eyes had met.

You slowed down.

Jeon Jungkook slowed down, reaching up to remove his glasses.

Would your eyes have met if you hadn’t had to double back to retrieve your shopping bag?

If you weren’t careless?

You saw him catch his breath as soon as he knew it was you. You weren’t sure how he knew. Then again, how did you know? This entire adventure had been on a whim. He stopped at a reasonable distance from you, and half-lowered his face mask, as if to greet you. But neither of you could utter a word. You held your small black purse that you haven’t changed in several years. It was a simple design with the designer embossed in very small font above a leather bow sewed flush to the front. Unremarkable, really, unless you knew.

And he knew, because Jungkook had brought it for you.

The first gift at the very beginning. He looked from the bag to you. Wondering if he should comment on it. He hesitated, and you understood why. Two parallel lines. No interaction would occur unless one moved against the natural course and doing so would be, well.

Careless.

“I hope,” you started, cautiously. Something flickered in those big brown orbs. “I hope Kim Seokjin didn’t scold you too much.”

He lowered his head a bit, half-laughing and half-scowling. “I did get a scolding for causing a commotion.”

“It was my fault,” you acknowledged once again.

He shook his head. “No, it was mine.”

You half-smiled. “Wanna fight about it?”

Jungkook raised his head, still holding onto the bottom of his face mask. You could see the mirth in his stance. It was almost as if there wasn’t a weighing limbo trapped between you and him.

“Actually, yeah.”

Almost immediately, you saw him falter, as if he knew he shouldn’t say something like that. You felt a sting witnessing it. He opened his mouth, and you almost heard it, his casual, just kidding, and this wasn’t like him at all.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

You interrupted him before he could add, just kidding. He stiffened, exposing hints of the printed white t-shirt under the tears of his hoodie. You were both occupying space on the walkway. People needed to walk around, some unbothered, some slighted by the inconvenience. His name on your tongue felt foreign and familiar at the same time. An end and a beginning all at once.

I have someone.

So did you.

You smiled.

“It’s really good to see you out and about.”

His eyes widened. You hoped he could tell that you meant it. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat a bit, trying to eliminate the sudden croak. “Yeah. You too. I’m…” His eyes shifted a bit. He was always focused on you, regardless. “I’m glad I ran into you today.”

And maybe that was it.

You were okay with that, though. That might have previously been a lie, but not now. It was probably unnecessary to say. Perhaps you had spoken up for some sort of closure, for both you and him. A chapter ended in some way.

He rubbed the back of his neck, ticking his head to the brown bag by your side. “You came to shop today?”

You held it up halfway with a chuckle. “Ah, well… It wasn’t the plan. Ended up that way.” You noticed the way he intently observed your actions. Couldn’t avoid it, really. You lowered the bag, not hiding even though it was maybe the better thing to do. “What about you?”

He paused. Had he forgotten already? You watched him gain his bearings with bemused patience.

“Ah, I…”

Jungkook looked and sounded embarrassed.

“What the hell,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Actually, I cancelled a shoot last minute.”

Your head tilted. “I’m surprised. That’s not like you.”

His pink lips upturned. You could spot that tiny mole underneath them, right at the center. “Yeah…” He trailed off, unable to meet your gaze. Ashamed, almost.

“It’s okay, though,” you offered. You hated to see that expression on his face. “You did what you felt was right. These things happen.”

He scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t cancelled a shoot since…” He stopped.

You waited.

Jungkook glanced at you. You saw a pink twinge dust across his cheekbones.

“Since I first asked you out.”

You blinked at him. “What are you talking about?” You frowned. “I don’t remember anything like that.”

He winced and looked up at the ceiling, rocking on his heels a bit. “Actually, I… I lied. I pretended I wasn’t getting any bookings. Just to spend time with you in the beginning. But, uh, then I felt guilty. I wasn’t the man I thought I needed to be. The man you deserved.” He sighed, yanking one of his hands out to scratch his eyebrow absentmindedly. “But maybe I never was, because then I got swept up in all that bullshit.”

Jungkook looked down.

“I know it’s too late to say such things now.”

He seemed to collapse a little bit despite his tall frame.

“Now, it’s…” He sighed. “I can’t concentrate at all. I keep asking myself what I’m doing. For a while there I kept working in hopes that you would…” He grimaced again, but chose to ramble on anyway. “So you would still see me everywhere. Stupid, huh? And now it’s just…” He shook his head. “I think I should give up.”

You didn’t know what to say.

He took a deep breath and straightened. “Ah, my bad. I went on for nothing.” Bowing slightly, backing away. “I have a lot on my mind. I didn’t expect to run into you and now I’ve run my mouth like a madman.”

“Jungkook.”

His name came out of your mouth before you registered it. He stopped moving, looking back at you, halfway between pulling up his face mask. You struggled to find the words, clutching your unexpected purchases and your racing heart, his first present to you against your ribs.

“Don’t give up.”

You made sure not to break eye contact.

“It’s not like you to give up, you know. It’s my… my favorite thing about you.”

He seemed stunned.

“R… Really?”

You couldn’t help but smile. Nervously albeit fiercely determined.

“One of many.” You relaxed a bit, relieved that you were able to say so. You laughed a little at the absurdity of it all. “Although perhaps we need to stop doing these kinds of things in public.”

Jungkook jumped, seemingly realizing all the people around too. “Ah… Whoops.”

You bowed as you spoke. “Then, I’ll…”

The way he said your name, so soft and dreamlike, made you freeze mid-movement. He seemed flustered, stepping a little closer to you. It was the correct moment to pull back, replace some respective distance between you and him to keep a measure of strangers, and yet.

You let your eyes meet his under wisps of black hair sticking out of his beanie.

“Can we spend a little more time together? If it’s not too much trouble?”

It was. You had work tomorrow. You needed to get home and put away your things. Wash up. Do your nightly routine to unwind. Get back to being a responsible adult with responsibilities living a responsible life.

Your lips curved into a mischievous smile.

“Sure.”

“Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere.”

You were standing by his motorbike now. His pride and joy, yet you knew it was rarely used in his day-to-day life. For the best, probably, considering the risk. You weren’t surprised to see it today though. He always rode when he felt frustrated or out of it. The walk here had been silent, which you had expected. Jungkook was the king of speaking without a plan. You didn’t mind it, though. It reminded you of good times.

He awkwardly shuffled, obviously realizing that himself now.

“Hey.”

“Uh?” he answered distractedly.

“Why did you ask me out back then?”

He fumbled with his hands a bit. “Ah, that’s…”

You tilted your head, patiently waiting.

“I…” He stuttered a bit. Cleared his throat again. “I just couldn’t help but look twice. I thought you were hot as hell.”

You almost snorted. “Don’t you encounter enough of that at work?” you chuckled.

He shook his head. “No, it’s more like… Um, even if they’re attractive, everyone knows it is pretty for a purpose. They’re all taking care of themselves. Looks are the selling point, after all.” He poked at his own chest. “Me too.” He raised his head to you. “But you’re different. You don’t have to think about how you look will reflect in a paycheck. You take care of yourself for yourself.”

You thought about it. It didn’t seem that extraordinary. “Well, anybody can do that.”

He smirked.

“If anybody could do it, why could I only see you?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. You raised a hand to smack him and stopped short. Instead, you let your hand fall and half-rolled your eyes. “Ehhh, don’t try to pull that stuff on me.”

He laughed behind his hand. “Have to try.”

You frowned with feigned annoyance. Jungkook had always been taller than you, even in heels, assuming you weren’t opting for miniature stilts. Still, you always had the impression he was never looking down at you, but up, even when his eyes were downcast.

“Yeah, that.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“That look you’re giving me right now,” he chuckled sheepishly. “I knew you’d be able to balance me out and set me straight.”

You squinted at him. You let out a puff of air and looked away, tumbled into memories where maybe you could have been the one to change the course of these parallel lines. “Yeah, and look where that got us,” you muttered.

Sigh.

Somewhere behind you, a car honked loudly.

“Standing next to each other?” Jungkook quietly asked.

Two cars were having trouble at an intersection at the end of the row.

Standing next to each other.

Your gaze drifted back and locked with his. He didn’t try to hide the emotions his eyes. You were quite sure he could see through you too. The impasse remained, not because a bridge couldn’t be built, but because it couldn’t bear to be burned once more. Once more meant it would crumble to ash and disappear forever. You had thought it already had, until tonight.

You tried to reason with the unreasonable. “You cannot believe you skipping work and me deciding to spend a good chunk of my paycheck to mean some serendipitous shit, can you?” you scoffed.

He gave you that brilliant smile that had tamed you from the very beginning.

“You–”

You poked him hard in the chest.

“Ahh!”

Jungkook must not have expected that at all.

He almost fell over.

Your hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of his hoodie, dragging him back. His body lurched, slightly off balance, and your elbow swung forward, bracing onto his abs, leaving your faces close enough together for bystanders to get the wrong idea. For him to get the wrong idea. For you, too. You were close enough to count his eyelashes.

Enough time elapsed that you might as well have.

“What… What is with you?” you muttered, gripping his clothes. “You’re so… dramatic.”

He had another piercing on the side of his right lip now. Huh. How come you didn’t notice? Probably too busy being mad at him. Or not staring at his lips in fear of indecent thoughts. This current proximity and shared heat were not helping. His hands were somehow on your shoulders. Probably to steady himself. Or something else. You weren’t sure.

Jungkook stared at your lips.

You didn’t back away.

He leaned down and kissed you.

He must be an idiot to put you both in this position again. You must be an idiot too, because you kissed him back. Fuck it. Your hand on his chest relaxed, fingers spreading out, pressing your lips to his, breathing him in. He still used the same cologne you had complimented on back then. It made you smile into his lips. His tense hands on your shoulders fluttered, one slipping down to your upper arm, the other grazing your neck. His thumb brushing the side of your cheek. His other fingers weaving into your hair, tilting his head slightly. No promises, but.

A dream made.

You tapped his chest, forcing him to break the connection.

“W… What?” Jungkook gasped, his short breath mixing into yours.

“Not… Not here,” you chuckled, feeling your racing pulse in your throat. “I think we’ve done enough public reconciliation. Adding public indecency is not it. Someone is going to recognize you soon.”

Those shadowed eyes watching you were telling you he was ready to risk it.

“No,” you gritted, punching his chest lightly. Surprisingly, Jungkook did not budge and held on very strongly to your arm. “Stop that. Stop it with the sex eyes.”

He grinned. You could tell from the way his eyes crinkled. “Is it working?”

You pried yourself from him with some effort.

“All you’re telling me is that you really like handcuffs.”

“Promise?”

You straightened your clothes and answered absentmindedly. “Promise what?” You looked up to give him an indignant expression. He took your purchases to place them in the back of his motorcycle, giving you no verbal response.

Just a sneaky smirk in return.

“What did you think was gonna happen?”

“Uh…”

Before he could make another sound, you grabbed Jeon Jungkook by the collar and dragged him to you.

It was different.

Just not in the way you thought it would be.

Part of you thought to hold back. Build a solid foundation to see if this would work. Talk for a long while, move slow, step by recommended step. Then again, if you actually believed that, you would have instructed him to take you back to your apartment. Maybe send him off with a kiss and a pat on the head. You know. The complete opposite of shoving him up against his living room wall and tracing your tongue over his moaning lips with his hands gripping your waist. If this was going to work, it was always going to work. It didn’t matter if it was the wrong way or the right way.

This love was either going down in a blaze of glory or start an everlasting fire.

Might as well get on the ride.

You let him kiss down your neck, your hands sliding down to his. Interlocking fingers. Shivering at the sensation of his lips in your skin, familiar and new. Body-to-body. You pulled up his hands to force him to lose the top layers, including the beanie, exposing his toned chest and gleaming tattoos going from his right hand to his shoulder. His hoodie and t-shirt fell to the floor in a soft thump. His hair was different than when you had last seen him. Sides shaven, the top still long, messy black waves due to being crammed into the beanie. He flicked his head back, sending black strands all over his half-moon eyes, glistening pink lips parted in a soundless gasp.

You took his wrists and pinned Jungkook to the wall.

Panting, watching him under you despite looking upwards.

“W… What?” he breathed, locked in your transfixed stare.

It was different, yet it was the same. You could feel it. There could have been many others between the last time and right now. You knew there wasn’t. It was both sad and validating, because you knew how much he hated being alone, but now you knew there was truth to those promises he had said to you between sheets and pillows.

You leaned down and licked a wet, fat stripe over his chest, dripping saliva all over him.

Jungkook moaned, leaning his head against the wall.

“You belong to me,” you whispered over his heart. Raised your head and he was looking back at you.

Only you.

“I belong to you,” he whispered back.

You skimmed your lips over his skin.

“Prove it to me.”

He surrendered.

To your tongue, tracing patterns over his collarbones. To your lips, dotting kisses and making him flinch, whining for more. To your hands, holding him down and at your mercy, exploring him with sight, touch, and taste. You let go of one of his wrists to trail your nails over his abdomen, observing the way his body rippled, lifting towards you as sensitivity increased. You let your fingers wander, around his waist and into shaded territory, running your nails down his spine, watching his reaction. His head tilted back, hair in wisps around his temples, dark eyes clouded in lust.

Your name slipped from his lips.

You dug your nails into his lower back and pulled yourself up, unable to keep the side of your lips from curving upwards at his delicious whines.

“Take off my blouse.”

His fingertips slid across the slinky maroon fabric. Button by button, the fabric began to unravel in his hands, your forehead to his as he did so. You took his breath, tracing his muscles, murmuring his name just to feel him shiver as he heard it.

“I never had anyone else after you,” he mumbled, circling one of the buttons with his thumb. “I couldn’t.”

“You could have,” you hummed. “You were a free man.”

Jungkook undid the last button and stared into your eyes.

“No, I’m not.”

You half-smiled. “I wouldn’t take it personally.”

He leaned in again, brushing your lips with his.

“I belong to you.”

His touch, his kiss, the dance of mesmerizing senses. You stepped back. He followed. Tangled in each other, your blouse slipping off and dropping to the floor. Your bra unclasped, tumbling, his hands all over, places he had been a million times and desiring forevermore, squeezing your breasts with his hands, almost tripping over your skirt as you stepped out of it. His pants joined the trail of passion, and then his tongue was on you, lifting you in his arms and tasting your hard nipples with your hands in his hair, clutching his head for support with your legs around his waist.

“I’m going to fall,” you gasped, breathless.

“Over my dead body,” was the muffled answer with his face buried into your breasts. “Fuck, I love your ass.”

Perhaps to avoid death getting two for the price of one, Jungkook let you down, devouring you with kisses with your taste lingering on his lips, sinking his fingers into the soft curves. You curled your tongue against his, making him moan, hips grinding against hips, feeling his insistent hardness against your softness, trapping himself between your legs. You were still in your panties and he was still in his boxer briefs, although the thin fabrics were merely a nuisance to the inevitable.

“Jungkook…”

He was thrusting into you and jamming his cock in between your thighs, his strong arms wrapped around you and his teeth on your shoulder. You hummed, torn between telling him off and enjoying the feeling of his arousal swelling between your legs, but it was he who gasped and threw his head back, his hard length twitching against your clothed pussy.

“You ready to include me in this?” you questioned, amused.

“S-Sorry… Can’t help myself…”

Somehow, by instinct and minor effort, you were both in his bedroom now. The familiar bed you had once called yours, remembering the future dreamed upon those white sheets. Jungkook pulled you to them, calling you to the paradise that could only be created between two. Don’t, was your meek protest as he pulled down your panties and kneaded your thighs, shaking his head, I don’t care, and his tongue slid over your heat. Wet, dripping, your sweet taste and his saliva. He moaned between your legs, decorating you with kisses before sliding his tongue over you, drinking you desperately, you taste so fucking good, fuck, and your fingers buried into the sheets. He remembered everything you liked. Steady, soft licks, then harder when your legs tensed, tipping his head to bring his lips around your clit, drenching his chin with your wetness.

His hands turned and slipped under your legs, dragging you to his face by your ass.

“F-Fuck, Jungkook…”

You reached down and gripped his hair as you came on his face, his muffled gasp of surprise drowned out by the moan produced through your arched back and prolonged euphoria. Fuck. Fuck, it hadn’t been evident how much you missed this, no, him, your knuckles against the crown of his head, his hot tongue all over, his fingers locked onto your ass, even the way his nose brushed against your oversensitive clit as he thrust his tongue into your pussy, triggering another wave of pleasure, sparking electricity that burned through your veins.

His.

He pulled himself up with a groan, his mouth all over your body. Leaving bites, kisses, licks in his lustful wake. Your nails dug into his shoulder and he made that whimper you loved, obviously wanting more, and so you clawed his upper back as he pretended to resist you, refusing to move higher as he sucked on your nipples, gazing at you under half-lidded eyes, rubbing your other nipple between his fingers.

“Take it,” you growled under your breath.

He did, rubbing his hard, neglected cock against your thigh, denying himself longer.

Over time, you had hesitated to do such things. Jungkook had gotten in trouble before for being marked up. After all, his body was his selling point, and booking back-to-back shoots with poor choices in between ended up in humiliation. Unjustly so, perhaps, but you never did it again. Maybe you should have been more considerate this time too, but, no, that wasn’t what he was asking for.

He wanted the consequences of you.

He brought his face close to yours, your orgasm still on his breath.

“Mark me,” Jungkook demanded, his voice low and deep and gravelly. “I’m yours.”

So you did.

Hickeys on his perfect neck, sharp nails over his ass as you pushed down his underwear, adorning him with fierce, vicious passion that bruised him. He kissed your forehead, buried his fingers in your hair, and pinned you to him, pre-cum dripping onto your hip as he kicked off his restraints, pressing his hardness to you.

“You’ll get in trouble,” you warned even though the damage was already done.

“I don’t care,” he retorted, his thigh rubbing against your still-wet pussy. “I don’t care if I have to cancel the rest of the week. I don’t care if I never work in the modeling industry again. The only thing I care about is making sure you always know how much I love you.”

You froze, your lips above the inked floral mandala on his right shoulder.

“I should have made time.”

His arms drew up and encircled your head, his lips against the crown.

“I’m so, so sorry for not realizing how disrespectful I was to you. And I won’t do it again,” he murmured, leaving kisses intertwined with your hair. “I promise.”

“I…”

You reached up and held his shoulders, anchored despite the turbulence of an emotional sea.

“I missed being by your side, Jungkook.”

If his hard dick wasn’t literally throbbing against your hip, you might have cried.

You reached down and touched him.

“Ah!”

“Woah.” Your arm hooked around his waist as your hand enclosed around his girth. “I’m just making sure he’s keeping interest even during this emotional breakthrough.”

His cheeks flushed as he realized he had chosen his moment with possibly suboptimal timing. He didn’t have to worry. His body seemed to recognize your hand right away. You could feel the way his cock eagerly twitched on your palm. You cocked an eyebrow. He gave you a the-fuck-you-expect look, and you curled two fingers around his balls, lightly massaging with the pads of your fingers, simulating your tongue. He gasped, gripping your shoulders.

You leaned down and spit in your hand.

“F-Fuck!”

You backed up and slowly, leisurely, spread the slippery saliva all over his cock, letting him adjust his knees to give you a better positioning. Your other arm had moved behind you, lifting your torso up as you jacked him off. He seemed to not know what to do with his hands, foreign objects in his possession before his eye line drifted down. Down. His fingers trailed over your breasts, squeezing them and playing with your nipples as you increased the pace.

“Handcuffs could come in handy right now,” you commented.

He glared at you.

“S… Shut up.”

His cock had throbbed at the suggestion though.

You tilted your head, watching his breathing quicken as you applied the pressure where he liked it, the same pulse every time, not too fast and not too slow, building the frustration with a smile.

His face tensed.

Faster. A little tighter. Your thumb rubbed just under the base of the head with every ascent. He placed his palms against your hard nipples and you felt the familiar snap of his hips, leaning into your hand, his eyelashes fluttering, and for a brief moment you considered stopping.

Then again, these weren’t your sheets.

He gasped out your name and shot all over your stomach and thigh.

Hot, thick cum splattered onto your skin, making you suck in a breath as you felt it, saw it, smelled it, intense and strong and all over you. You were lucky it was on the thicker side, white streaks sticking to your body rather than running off. A painting of perverse proportions. Jungkook stared at his work, still semi-hard in your hand, clearly turned on by the sight. You sent him a questioning look.

“What now?”

Then he shocked you, and probably himself, by diving down and running his warm tongue over your cum-covered skin.

“Oh, what–”

Instant burning tingles spread throughout your nerves at the contact, vibrating through to your core, dripping as you witnessed the milky white coat his tongue. Your hand touched his shoulder, drawing him up, and he was tamed by your gesture, rising, his lips smeared with his release, and you drew closer to the heavy scent, to him. Lips to lips. Drank it from his mouth, swallowing the mixture of saliva and orgasm. Your tongue tangled in his, his fingers in between your legs again, thrusting two fingers into you, following the pull you had on him. Deep, slow, faster as the kiss grew more intense, breath to consumed breath, rolling your hips up into his hand, tightening around him, and Jungkook moaned, getting harder in your hand as your slick arousal drenched his.

“Condom?”

They spilled over the bed in his haste.

You were pleased to see it was the same brand you usually enjoyed. There wasn’t much to be read into that, though, because they had become his favorite as well per your introduction. You wondered if there would be a second first-time awkwardness and you were immediately proven wrong from the desperate and experienced way Jungkook dragged your ass to line up his dick. There was no time to be anxious, it seemed.

“You’ve acting like you’ve never had me before,” you teased.

Those dark eyes narrowed. “Don’t act like you don’t have the tightest, most perfect pussy I’ve ever been in.”

You half-shrugged. “Things could change.”

He slid in and clenched his jaw.

“You liar.”

You smirked and closed in around his length.

“F-Fuuuuuuuck me…”

You could have probably kept it up if it wasn’t for how fucking good he felt inside you. Just the right girth, and he lifted your legs, deeper, gasping, reaching the depth you liked. Your thighs against his chest. You locked eyes. Jungkook cocked an eyebrow with a familiar smirk. The corner of your lips ticked upward, and the rough, powerful pace began, your hand gripping his tattooed forearm and the other the sheets, losing yourself to the pleasure, pressed between the mattress and his hard body. His eyes closed, your lashes fluttering, witnessing glimpses of bliss, whispers of sweet nonsense lost between moans, leaning your head back onto his pillows, sinking into his scent.

Belonging to him.

His hair flicked sweat onto your chest. Your hand on the bed bent back and shoved the pillows down, using the leverage to lift your hips to his thrust, moaning at the visceral sound of slapping hips, wet and loud and vibrating throughout the room.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he panted out between gasps. “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

You tried to deliver a compliment back but it was getting harder and harder to breathe. Your orgasm abruptly interrupted any coherent though, forcing you to bury your head back and endure the vice-grip of wanton delirium, barely able to gasp out his name as the hot wave dragged you under, your inner walls viciously pulsing all around his length. You heard Jungkook groan and attempt to say something, probably how much he enjoyed feeling your orgasm, he had done so before, however he seemed to be in his own dilemma as well, clenching his jaw and snapping his head down, the muscles of his chest taut and tense, and, in your intoxicated haze, you realized he was attempting not to follow, but.

“Fuck!”

He slammed his cock into you and cursed, throwing his head back as you felt the jerk of his cock spilling into the condom, trapped in your tightness, dragged into the kind of fever that couldn’t be sweat out, sinking down, down.

You stilled, suspended in bliss.

It was a little easier to breathe now. You missed this. Him, specifically. The sex you had together, carnal and intense and unparalleled. Closed your eyes, breathing hard, feeling the familiarity of Jungkook on top of you, spent, sweaty, frantic for round two. He didn’t like stopping if he could help it. It was one of his best traits. You felt him lower your legs carefully, backing out of you with a hiss.

Then you heard a wet, dirty sound.

You opened one eye.

He was staring at your body.

Running his fingers over his still-hard cock, bringing it back to full hardness.

“Let me look at you.”

You hummed. “You’re only seeing one side.”

His dark eyes shifted up to yours.

“Okay. Turn over.”

Desire turned his voice deeper, huskier.

With a sly smile, you rolled over, and scooted onto your knees, spreading your ass for him. You heard him suck in a breath, that’s so fucking sexy, and you flexed, letting him watch, entrancing him with the visual and the obvious sound of your wetness.

“Every part of you is perfect.” You could hear him jacking himself off, hard and fast. “Fucking perfect.”

“I feel that your judgement is clouded right now,” you answered back, muffled by his pillows in your face.

You heard the ripping sound and then a groan as he rolled down the condom. Then his strong hands grabbed your hips, prompting you to let go, and he sank into you.

“Fuck no, it’s not,” he gasped, picking you up by the hips to fully sheath himself. You managed to pull a pillow to your chest to allow ample breathing room. “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can satisfy me.”

You made your pussy tighten around him and he moaned again, his hot breath washing down your spine.

“Then let me satisfy you,” you purred, leaning back into him.

Your ass met his crotch in a loud, gratifying smack, easily locking into a rhythm you both enjoyed. Hard, aggressive, powerful, not holding back, you lifting a hand to extend back, and he caught your forearm, thrusting deeply as he held onto you. All of his power was directed below, the grip on your arm simply a symbol of possession, forcing you to lift your head and arch your back, adjusting to that more fruitful angle, sending heat all throughout your blood and nerves, the tension building, louder, harder, more.

He let you go, and you bucked back against him.

Moaned your name, delicious and desperate, begging you.

It was hard to count your orgasms. They seemed to blend into one another, entangled with the passion and the beat, not wanting to stop even as you struggled to breathe, clutching the pillow so hard that you could still feel your nails digging into your palm. The lust searing and yet not enough, chasing more, wanting more, wanting him, only him, your only, the one that belonged to you.

Your head tipped back, seeing only fragments of your surroundings, your hair a mess over your face.

“Jungkook, I love you,” you gasped.

You felt his hips flinch and he moaned your name, long and drawn-out, his hard cock jolting inside you, gripping your hips so tightly you probably had imprints of his fingertips. There was a flurry of expletives and panting. The haze of inexplicable euphoria settling, unavoidable and desired. You closed your eyes, savoring his release, feeling the radiating vibrations of his high pour into you as he slid down, his hot hands over your back, his shuddering exhales warming your shoulder blades.

Sweat, in small shivering droplets, sprinkled onto your skin.

“I love you too.”

He pressed his fingertips into your rising and falling body, touching you all over, confessing to your racing heart beneath his lips.

“I love you so fucking much.”

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah, totally.”

You turned your head to see Jungkook staring at your tits. You tucked a knuckle under his chin and forced it up. He gave you the big-peepers-in-headlights look.

“Huh?”

“Are you sure about this?” you repeated once more.

He gave you a confused look. “Yeah. I thought we talked about it?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Pardon me, but I’m not sure how much I can trust a discussion we were having with you balls deep inside me.”

“Eh?” His lower lip upturned. “Why not?”

You rubbed your temple with two fingers. “Why not, hah…”

“I meant it.”

You pulled one of his pillows over your naked chest so he could focus. You weren’t even sure why he had these. Jungkook slept on one of those stiff cylindrical pillows that was supposedly more comfortable. You weren’t too sure about how good that was for his neck, but sometimes you just have to accept the strangeness of your significant other. He must have kept these for the look of a nicely made bed. Or for moments like this. His eyes went back to your face again, reluctantly. He seemed a little disappointed.

“You don’t think I meant it?”

You saw his eyes were drifting to your thighs now. “It’s not really that…” You considered it. “It’s more… Well, we’ve tried already, you know. Aren’t you afraid it’ll happen again?”

His gaze shifted. You waited, letting him collect his thoughts.

“Afraid?” You saw him reflect the past and the mistakes. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am. I’m definitely going to change from how I was before. I can see how my work-life balance was shit, as both a friend and boyfriend. I don’t want to go back to that either,” Jungkook mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get it now. I can’t get time back. I was stupid, thinking me overworking myself wouldn’t drive you away, you know, we would have so much more time later… I went about it the worst way. I didn’t even discuss it with you. That was just me being selfish, and that selfishness made me insecure… I don’t want that anymore. I promise you that.” He shook his head and looked up at you guiltily. “Still… I can’t promise I won’t fuck up in some other way. And that scares me. But I have to act, even if I’m scared. Even if your final answer is, let’s not see each other anymore, at least I will have honestly given you my all this time, because you are it for me.”

You shook your head too. “There could be someone out there for you that is a lot more suitable than me. The world is the big place.”

He frowned, exasperated. “No. No, you don’t get it.” He placed a hand on your knee and looked into your eyes. “You are it for me. The world is big place, but my world is right here.” He poked you and you laughed, startled at the suddenness. A smile burst onto his face, holding your knee down, trying to drive his point home over your mirth. “Hey! Hey. I really meant it. All of it.”

You stopped laughing.

Somehow one of your hands was covering his now, feeling his warmth and hard knuckles in your palm.

“I belong to you,” Jungkook repeated, his own I love you. “I can’t love anyone else like how I love you. I don’t care if you believe me or not. Even if you leave me, sure, I might find someone to not be lonely with, but I will only belong to you.”

You held onto his hand, curling your fingers into his palm. “You…” This man was crazy, saying things like this. He affectionately squeezed your knee, flashing that killer smile of his.

“So… Yeah, I’m sure.”

He pulled his hand from under yours and touched your cheek, his knuckles against your skin.

“I’ll go along with whatever you choose.”

Truth was, you had already chosen.

“I’ll do my best too,” you murmured quietly, holding the pillow tightly. “I won’t let myself be complacent anymore.”

From the look in his eyes, you saw that Jungkook recognized that it had become an unintentional consequence of his actions. He smiled, still stroking your cheek.

“Yeah. Let’s be a team this time.”

You nodded, smiling back.

An extended silence of staring into each other’s eyes.

“Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“Are you just imagining rubbing your dick on my cheek?”

His rough fingertips grazed over your jaw. “Yeah,” he replied dreamily.

You smacked his hand.

“Ow!”

“Pay attention!”

“W-Wha, what?” He pouted. “What am I supposed to do!”

You grimaced, feigning annoyance but also not really. This guy. “No wonder we could only have serious talks in public or incarcerated…” you muttered.

“Ah, yeah, that reminds me.”

You raised an eyebrow at him as he twisted around and reached over to his phone, watching the ripple of his back muscles as he moved. Damn. This guy. He bounced back, messing about on the screen. You were too busy admiring the definition of his arms to notice, until.

“What kind of handcuffs should we buy?” Jungkook chirped, turning his phone to showing you the screen display of a sex goods webstore.

You blinked at him.

“What.”

And thus begun round two.

epilogue

“Hey- oh, wow.”

You stilled, surprised.

‘Oh, I thought you were going to meet me there?”

In your hand was your well-loved small black purse with a bow. Your other hand held the door open, seeing the tall form of Jeon Jungkook gawking at you in his matching denim jacket and jeans. Calvin Klein, the same brand as his white t-shirt under the jacket. That same brand was holding a lunch event today, except one of their attendees was blocking your path, open-mouthed at your hips wrapped in a tight, pink gingham miniskirt with embroidered red strawberries. Then his stare went to your chest, to the emerald-green satin blouse that complimented the little green accents of the mini strawberries, although you suspected his interest was less in the color and more in the way the seams accentuated the curve of your breasts.

You raised your eyebrows.

“I… I left early. I wanted to pick you up,” he was saying absentmindedly.

You gestured to the black car waiting at the front. “I already ordered a car, though. I can’t ride with you on your bike in this skirt.”

“We can get in the car.” Jungkook’s eyes went back down. You knew he wasn’t admiring the delicate crisscross straps of your black velvet pumps. “Damn, your legs,” he mumbled.

The driver of the car was about to watch a live-action porno if you didn’t take action. You set the alarm and lock before stepping out. Immediately, Jungkook’s hand raised, as did his gaze. You looked from the tattooed hand to his face. He grinned, creating sparkles in his big dark brown eyes.

“I ran off, hehe. I just wanted to personally accompany my darling,” he admitted. “Hopefully no one noticed.”

You fitted your hand in his, letting him lead you. “You’re too handsome not to notice. What a troublemaker,” you joked, pleased at his rebellion.

“Your troublemaker now. Where are we eating?”

“There’s a French themed café near some shops. After, could we stop by the tea shop? My dad has a request I need to fulfill.”

“Ooo, I love adventures with my future wife.”

You gave him a curious smirk. His mischievous grin just kept getting bigger, that underlip mole suddenly visible like a secret wink. He had been dropping such hints lately. You pretended to gloss over it even though the discussion of dream rings had already happened months ago. You reached out to open the car door and Jungkook impatiently nudged your hand away, doing it for you so you could enter easily in your heels. It was a very nice thing to do.

Taehyung probably grilled such behaviors into him. Not that you were complaining, of course.

You confirmed the destination with the driver as Jungkook got in the car from the other side, taking care to hook his sunglasses on the front of his shirt. You heard his phone vibrate. You turned your head to see him snickering at it.

“Taehyungie’s mad that I left him alone.”

“Whoops.” You did feel a little bad.

He waved a hand, tongue in cheek. “He’ll get over it.”

Your eyes met.

He had such beautiful, expressive eyes that held the stars every time he saw you.

“You sure?” you asked quietly.

Jungkook reached over and stroked your cheek with a smile.

“I’m sure I want to eat lunch with my future wife, yup. Then I’ll buy tea for her dad so I can get on his good side.”

You laughed. “Sounds like a sweet master plan.”

His black hair loosely styled over his forehead made him look younger. You knew better. Perhaps grown was not the word for it, but you could tell he was becoming more and more of the man he wanted to be every day. Attending events with Jungkook was different these days; he checked on you throughout the night, actively included you in conversations, and even introduced you to people he thought you might enjoy talking to, now to the point that familiar faces would come up to you first before they recognized him. But what was more important was this – arranging quality time to spend together, more communication, and obvious commitment. The pleasant surprise not being flowers or sweets or other material things, and instead his presence earlier than expected.

His laugh at night.

His forehead kiss in the morning, even if you were half-awake in bed.

His silly photos of fogging up a makeup artist’s mirror with his breath and drawing a heart with your name inside it.

He still had a hectic schedule, but now you and him knew when enough was enough. You could finally talk about it before either of you became too stressed out or lonely by it. That improvement was worth that entire roller coaster to get here.

You smiled.

He smiled back, his knee touching yours.

He was still stroking your cheek.

“Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“What are you thinking right now?”

He didn’t respond right away. He just adjusted his legs suspiciously and gave you his most innocent look that indicated he was most certainly guilty.

“Eh?”

You took him by the wrist and slowly lowered it before the driver could notice your partner-in-crime’s suspicious behavior. He pouted at you. The tent in his pants twitched. You cocked an eyebrow. Then you remembered something.

“Oh, by the way.”

He perked up. “What is it?”

You unzipped your purse a little bit and flashed the edge of shiny silver metal and chain.

“I borrowed something from a friend.”

Jungkook looked down.

Odd that it took him more than a moment to recognize handcuffs, considering that he – and you – had so much prior experience with them. His eyes went wide once it clicked. His cheeks flushed red. You smirked and rezipped your bag.

“What the fu–”

fin.

i hear... | ... the whispers... | ... in your eyes.

inspired by taylor swift's imgonnagetyouback :)

masterpost

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook x you #jungkook smut

151 notes · View notes

wholoveseggs · 2 days

Note

Yo I’m back. Tbh half of your anon requests are me lol. Can you write something about Elijah and the reader having a family. Kids of any age maybe living in the compound with the rest of the mikaelsons? Still smut ofc but I love that episode where Elijah is with Cami at the safe house and he acts all family man fixing the fence n stuff that was hotttt

Family Man

18+ ---- {Masterlist} {Tag-List}

Life at the compound can be chaotic with kids and family running around, but Elijah wouldn't have it any other way.

♡♡ Thanks for the request wonderful @elijahstwink (everyone go check out his fics!) & anon!I Love domestic Elijah sooo much, I truly believe this would be his dream life. ♡♡

4.5k words - Warnings: smut, oral sex, unfortunately I didn't make this as kinky as requested...its just very sappy and sweet, this is just a day in the life of Elijah as a devoted father and husband, pregnant!reader, uncle Klaus being precious, toddlers, hot cocoa, kittens & so much flufffffff

ps, this is pretty much a sequel to devotion...

In the early hours of the morning, and you were awoken by a loud snore from your husband. You rolled over to face him, chuckling a little as you watched his peaceful sleeping form. It was the first time in a long time he was finally getting the rest he deserved.

You slowly turned, carefully sliding out of bed. You tiptoed out the room and decided to go down to the kitchen to make some tea.

You loved this time of night, being in the stillness of the house, just enjoying the calmness and being able to take in the beauty of it all.

When you reached the bottom step, you heard some sniffling and cries coming from one of the rooms down the hall. You rushed to the door and opened it, and a small figure ran into your arms, clinging onto you.

"What's wrong, little one?" you asked, scooping her up.

"I had a nightmare. There were these people with sharp teeth and they were chasing me. And then you were there but you were gone. It was scary, mommy," she sobbed, her head buried in your chest.

"It's okay, sweetheart, it was just a dream. Nothing bad will happen to you. You are safe," you said, kissing her head and stroking her hair, soothing her. "Come on, let's go get something warm to drink,"

You carried her down to the kitchen and began to prepare the hot cocoa, which was her favorite. As you stood over the stove, waiting for the milk to boil, you felt her little hands rubbing your stomach.

"Mommy, when is the baby going to come out?" she asked.

"Not for a while, sweetie. It needs to grow inside my belly for a little longer," you chuckled.

"Okay," she said, looking sad. "I can't wait to meet them. Is it a girl or a boy?" she asked, looking up at you with her big, brown eyes.

"We don't know yet," you replied.

"Oh," she replied, disappointed. "I hope it's a girl. I already have a brother, I want a sister," she said.

"We'll just have to wait and see," you smiled, placing the mug of hot cocoa down on the counter. "Here, drink up, before it gets cold," you said.

She hopped off the chair and held the mug with both her hands, sipping away. You sipped on your tea as well, feeling relaxed. You loved these quiet moments with her, and you would cherish every one of them, since she was growing up so fast.

"So, what was this dream about, princess?" you asked, wanting to know more.

"T-there were people with sharp teeth and they were after me," she said.

"And why do you think that was?" you asked, not wanting her to feel afraid, but curious about what caused this dream.

"I think I saw it in a movie or something," she said, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. "An-and uncle Nik showed me his sharp teeth, but he promised he would never bite me, only use them to protect me," she said.

"Oh, did he now?" you laughed.

"Yeah, but then he bit my teddy bear," she said, giggling. "he said my teddy was a threat!"

"That sounds like something uncle Nik would do," you chuckled.

"Can I sleep with you and daddy tonight?" she asked, her eyes wide and pleading.

"Of course, sweetheart," you replied.

"Thank you, mommy," she said, smiling and hugging your legs.

"Come on, let's go to bed," you said, picking her up. She wrapped her arms around your neck and laid her head on your shoulder as you walked back up to your bedroom.

You placed her in the middle of the bed, and she quickly snuggled up against Elijah, her head on his chest. She loved having his attention. She was a daddy's girl through and through.

You slid back into bed, lying down on your side and Elijah instantly pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you, holding you both.

"Is my little one alright?" he asked sleepily, his eyes still closed.

"I had a bad dream, daddy," she sniffled, curling up against him.

"It's alright, my love. Everything will be alright," he said, kissing her head and soothing her. "No bad dreams will get you while I'm here," he said, pulling the blanket up and tucking her in.

She smiled at him and kissed his cheek, cuddling him as she drifted off to sleep. He stroked her hair, and her eyes grew heavy. Soon she was sound asleep, and he placed his hand on your stomach, his precious family safe in his arms.

"How are you feeling?" he asked.

"Exhausted. Our littlest one is keeping me up, constantly moving and kicking," you sighed, feeling drained.

"Let's hope it's not like this for the whole pregnancy," he chuckled.

"Don't even joke about that," you groaned.

He gave you a kiss on the head, your daughter snuggled in between the two of you, and you finally managed to get a few more hours of sleep.

Elijah was woken by the sunlight shining through the curtains, and he smiled at the sight of his beautiful family.

His daughter was still cuddled up to him, her head buried in his chest, she stirred slightly and yawned.

"Do you want breakfast?" he asked, his hand on her back.

"Yes," she mumbled.

"Hmmm what would you and your brother like? Gruel? Porridge?" he asked, teasing her.

"Eww no," she groaned, loudly.

"Alright, alright, pancakes it is, let's go wake your brother and the rest of the family," he said, chuckling.

"Can we get chocolate chips on the pancakes?" she asked as he carried her out the room.

"I don't know, maybe your brother wants blueberries, but we'll ask," he said, tickling her.

His son and his niece were both awake and running around, and Klaus was chasing him, laughing, the children giggling as they hid under the dining table.

"Oh, look who's here. Little Rebekah is up," Klaus teased.

"No! That's not my name!" she pouted, crossing her arms.

"Yes, it is," Elijah chuckled.

"Nooo," she whined. "It's just Bex," she said.

"Alright, alright, Bex it is," Klaus chuckled, patting his head.

"Pancakes for breakfast, anyone?" Elijah asked.

"Yes, yes, yes," the children yelled.

"Chocolate chips?" Klaus asked, grinning.

"Yes!!!" the kids screamed, all jumping up and down in excitement.

"Alright, I'll make them, the last one to the kitchen is a rotten egg," Klaus said, speeding off.

The kids squealed and ran after Klaus, and Elijah chuckled and went back upstairs to check on you.

You were sound asleep, your hair fanned across the pillow. He laid down next to you, placing his hand on the swell of your stomach, smiling and talking to the baby.

"How are you, littlest one? Have you been keeping mommy up all night?" he asked, his dimples on full display.

"Yes, they have," you sighed.

"That's my job," he smirked, leaning in and giving you a kiss. "Would you like some breakfast?" he asked.

"I'll go eat later. I just want to stay here for a little longer," you replied, holding his hand on your stomach.

Elijah hummed softly and pulled you close, kissing your head and rubbing your back. He loved the way you melted into his touch.

"How is Bex?" you asked.

"She's completely forgotten about her nightmare, Klaus is making breakfast for all the kids," he chuckled.

"They have him wrapped around their little fingers," you giggled.

"He has grown soft, it's true," Elijah said.

"Bex told me he bit her teddy bear," you laughed.

"Yes, well, that doesn't surprise me," he chuckled, his lips brushing against yours.

You sighed happily and wrapped your arms around him, feeling complete bliss in his embrace.

"What would you like to do today?" he asked.

"Stay right here with you," you replied, running your hand through his hair, making him hum in delight. You were feeling a bit needy this morning, the pregnancy hormones making you want him all the time.

"I think that can be arranged," he smirked.

You grinned and leaned in, kissing him slowly, deepening the kiss. He moaned, and rolled over, pressing you into the mattress, making sure not to put any weight on your stomach.

He loved your pregnant state, the way your skin glowed, your eyes sparkled and the way you moaned his name made him crazy. He couldn't keep his hands off you, he wanted to ravish you day and night.

He thought he knew all of his kinks, but this one took him by surprise. When you were first pregnant with Henry it was like something in his brain clicked. The possessiveness, the lust, the way his cock ached to be inside you, he was lost.

Henry was a miracle, he didn't quite know how the magic worked. You tried to explain it to him once, your witch ancestry, how the moon played a part, but all he could think about was fucking you senseless, filling you up, and breeding you.

You were the perfect partner, and an absolute warrior, but nothing turned him on more than seeing you in this submissive, almost docile state. You were his wife, his goddess, and his greatest treasure, and he wanted nothing more than to please you day and night.

His hands went to your soft, full breasts, squeezing and kneading them, making you whimper and moan. He captured your nipple between his lips, flicking his tongue over the sensitive bud, his other hand moving your nightdress up your thighs.

"Elijah," you sighed, his fingers brushing over your wet panties, making you gasp and moan.

"Is my beautiful wife needy this morning?" he smirked, his fingers slipping past the lace.

"Yes," you panted, the pad of his index finger teasing your clit, making your body tremble.

"Good," he hummed, his mouth on your neck, his fingers slowly pumping in and out of your wet heat.

You were both so lost in pleasure that neither of you heard the sound of Bex running up the stairs, Klaus not far behind her.

Luckily the door was locked, Elijah knew better than that with a house full of children.

"Daddy? Mommy?" she asked softly, knocking on the door.

"One minute, my love," Elijah called, his voice strained, trying to keep himself from ravishing you.

"Okay," she said, not leaving, but sitting down outside the door.

"Come back downstairs Bex, your mom and dad are a bit busy at the moment," Klaus chuckled, his voice low.

"Are they playing hide and seek?" she asked.

"Something like that," he replied.

"Can we play after?" she asked.

"Absolutely, sweetheart. Now come on, let's finish our pancakes, you don't want Henry to eat them all," he chuckled, lifting her up and taking her back downstairs.

Elijah looked down at your flushed face, laughing at the situation.

"You are so mean," you groaned, pushing him off you.

"Mean? I was just getting started," he chuckled.

"I think our daughter needs us, and Henry has probably eaten all the pancakes by now," you laughed, getting up and smoothing out your dress.

"I'll finish what I started tonight," he smirked.

"Don't get your hopes up," you chuckled, kissing his cheek and getting dressed.

Elijah watched your every move, the way you walked, the glow on your skin, and how the dress clung to the curve of your stomach. You looked ethereal. He was completely mesmerized, and completely smitten.

You were looking at yourself in the mirror, the dress a little too tight, the buttons straining against your swollen breasts.

"We are going to have to get you new dresses," he chuckled, walking up behind you and wrapping his arms around you.

"This was my favorite," you pouted.

"We'll find you something that fits, don't worry," he said, kissing your shoulder.

"My back is killing me," you groaned, feeling a bit overwhelmed.

"Let me try something," he said, his hands dipping under your belly and lifting the bump, and you immediately felt relief. "Better?" he whispered against your skin.

You let out a happy groan and leaned into him, letting him hold you. His hands were gentle, his touch making the tension and aches melt away.

"Thank you," you sighed.

"You are very welcome," he hummed.

"Let's go eat, I'm absolutely starving," you laughed, kissing him and taking his hand.

"Let's," he smiled.

When the two of you entered the dining room, Bex squealed and jumped out of her seat, running towards Elijah.

"Daddy I saved you a pancake, see, here it is," she said, holding it up.

"That's very sweet of you, darling," he said, bending down and picking her up.

She fed him the pancake, giggling and laughing, and Klaus was grinning from ear to ear, and he handed you a plate filled with an assortment of fruit, knowing it was your favorite.

"Thank you," you smiled, sitting down at the table, feeling your stomach rumble.

Hope was sitting with Henry, and they were coloring on their plates, syrup and chocolate spread everywhere, their laughter filling the room.

Bex was still cuddled up to Elijah, and his hand was on your stomach, and he was feeding you pieces of fruit, smiling at you.

"Your birthday is coming up little Bekah, what do you want as a present?" Klaus asked, ruffling her hair.

"Hmmm I don't know," she replied, deep in thought.

"Anything you want, sweetheart," Elijah smiled.

"Can we get a puppy?" Henry asked, excitedly.

"Not until you're old enough to take care of it," Elijah replied, ruffling his hair.

"What about a kitten?" Klaus asked, raising his eyebrow.

"I love kitties!" Hope squealed.

"Yes, yes, yes!" the children yelled.

"I'll have to think about it," Elijah chuckled.

"Please dad! It's all I want for my birthday," Bex begged, her big brown eyes looking at him, her little lip pouting.

"Don't let her pull that face, Elijah, it's not fair," Klaus laughed.

"Alright, alright, you can have a kitten," he replied, smiling at his little girl.

She squealed and threw her arms around him, giving him a sloppy kiss on the cheek.

"I promise I'll take care of it, daddy," she smiled.

"I'm sure you will," he replied, smiling and looking at you.

Klaus could see the exhaustion on your face, and the way you rubbed your stomach. You were tired and he could sense it, he knew you needed a break and some alone time with Elijah.

"Why don't we go out and play, little ones," he said, scooping up the children. "Let's all go to the park, we can even invite uncle Kol and aunt Rebekah," he suggested.

"Yay, yay, yay," the kids cheered.

"That sounds like a good idea," you replied, yawning and stretching your arms.

"Let's go, let's go," he said, wrangling the kids out of the compound.

Once they were gone, Elijah got up and started cleaning up the mess everyone had made. The compound was bursting at the seams with his family, and it was never quiet, but he enjoyed it, seeing the children run around and play, their laughter and their love filling the rooms.

You leaned back in your chair, admiring the sight of your husband working, his sleeves rolled up, and his hair falling over his forehead.

"You are gorgeous," you sighed, making him look up from the sink.

"As are you," he smirked.

"I can't believe you agreed to get Bex a kitten," you laughed.

"She can be very persuasive," he chuckled, drying his hands and coming to sit next to you.

"She has you wrapped around her finger," you smiled, cupping his cheek.

"Like I am not the same with her mother," he laughed.

"You have a point there," you grinned, kissing him.

He smiled against your lips, his hand moving down your body, resting on your stomach, letting out a contented sigh.

You mind wandered to all the things that needed to be done for the kids and around the house, you also hadn't even started preparing the nursery. You felt overwhelmed and the hormones weren't helping. On top of all that you had a party coming up.

"Stop thinking out loud," Elijah chuckled, pulling you closer.

"I can't help it, there is just so much to do," you groaned, burying your head in the crook of his neck. "I'm already behind, the baby will be here soon and I still haven't gotten anything ready."

"We still have a few months, everything will be fine, love. We will get the nursery ready, and the party will be wonderful, I'm sure of it," he replied, kissing your forehead.

His reassurances didn't help your worries, and you knew you were being unreasonable, but the stress was starting to take its toll.

"And now we have to go find a kitten, I don't even know where to start," you sighed, shaking your head.

"We can look online, we can go to a shelter, there's plenty of options," he replied, stroking your hair.

He was always so patient, so understanding, and you had no idea how he stayed so calm. You felt like you were going crazy.

"Do you even want a kitten?" you asked, raising an eyebrow.

"I prefer them over dogs, although their hair does get everywhere," he chuckled, cupping your cheek. "They are excellent little predators, great for catching the mice that are running around this old place," he smirked.

"You're not wrong, the mice are awful," you laughed, remembering the time you were down in the wine cellar and one of them ran across your foot.

"Why don't you go rest, my love? I will clean up here and join you upstairs," he suggested.

You nodded and yawned, standing up and heading towards the stairs, Elijah's eyes on you the entire time.

The moment you got to the bed and laid down, your eyes closed and you were fast asleep.

When you woke up you heard soft hammering coming from the other room, and you went to investigate, finding Elijah, shirtless and sweaty, fixing the nursery.

"I told you not to start without me," you sighed, crossing your arms and leaning against the door.

He looked over his shoulder, smiling at the sight of you, the sunlight coming in through the window and making you glow.

"It needed to be done. I'm almost finished," he replied, standing up and putting the crib together.

"You've been busy," you laughed, walking over and running your hands over the white, wooden furniture. He hand painted the walls and assembled everything, and you felt tears prickle at your eyes.

"It's beautiful," you sighed, looking around.

"Are you crying? Don't cry, darling," he said, pulling you close, your face pressed against his chest.

"I can't help it, these stupid hormones," you sniffled.

"It's alright," he laughed, stroking your hair.

You sighed and pulled away, taking in the nursery. There was a rocking chair and a bookshelf, filled with all the children's books the two of you had collected over the years.

"It looks wonderful," you said, smiling and wiping away your tears.

"Now, what would my lovely wife like to do for the rest of the afternoon? We have the place to ourselves, so I was thinking we could make good use of that large tub in our bathroom," he smirked, wiggling his eyebrows.

"You read my mind," you grinned.

You followed him back into your room, watching him fill up the tub with warm water, pouring in some bubble bath.

"Get undressed, darling," he smiled, taking his pants off and getting in the tub, moaning at the sensation of the water against his skin.

You slowly peeled off your dress, feeling a little self-conscious about your changing body. Here was your husband, eternally chiseled, and there you were, round and swollen.

"Come, let me take care of you," he whispered, seeing your hesitation.

You slipped in next to him, the water and bubbles a nice contrast to the heat of the day.

He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you against his chest, placing his hands on the swell of your stomach.

"There, doesn't that feel nice?" he hummed.

"Very nice," you sighed, resting your head on his shoulder, closing your eyes and relaxing.

His hands roamed over your skin, his lips brushing over the curve of your neck.

"I've missed having you all to myself," he whispered, his voice low and seductive.

"Mmm," was all you could say, too relaxed and content to form words.

He gently cupped your breasts, the pads of his thumbs brushing over your nipples, making you whimper and moan.

"Eli," you sighed, his touch sending shivers through your body.

"You're so beautiful," he said, his voice breathy.

You turned your head and looked at him, his gaze filled with lust and desire.

"Do you want to continue this on our bed?" You asked, your voice sultry.

"I'd love to," he replied, the corners of his mouth turning up into a smirk.

He helped you out of the tub, wrapping a towel around your body. Before suddenly scooping you up in his arms, carrying you to the bedroom and laying you down.

"I can't wait until I'm not this enormous," you sighed, looking down at your swollen belly.

"You're not enormous, you're beautiful, and absolutely radiant," he replied, hovering over you, his hand gently resting on your stomach.

You couldn't help but smile, and the tears started rolling down your cheeks.

"Don't cry again, my love," he chuckled.

"I can't help it! Just ignore me," you said, wiping the tears away.

"As if that is possible," he laughed.

He kissed your forehead, moving his way down your body, placing his hands on your hips, his lips pressing soft kisses against the curve of your stomach.

"Elijah, you don't have to do that," you whispered, feeling a little shy.

"But I want to," he replied, kissing his way down, spreading your legs.

"Oh," was all you could say, his tongue swirling over your clit, one hand on your inner thigh, the other resting on your stomach.

He hummed and moaned, the vibrations making you gasp, and arch your back. He could tell you were sensitive, and he was gentle, taking his time.

You ran your fingers through his hair, tugging a little, making him moan and pick up the pace.

" 'lijah," you panted, feeling the pleasure coil in your core.

You couldn't even see him over the swell of your stomach, but you could feel him, and the noises he was making were sending you into overdrive.

"Fuck, don't stop," you gasped, the orgasm hitting you like a ton of bricks, leaving you dizzy and lightheaded.

Elijah was enjoying himself, the taste of you on his tongue, the noises you were making, and the sight of you coming apart, was driving him crazy.

You tugged on his hair, pulling his face away, the sensations becoming too much, and he crawled up your body, kissing your stomach as he moved.

"Did you enjoy that, darling?" He asked, kissing you and tasting yourself on his tongue.

"Mmm yes, very much," you hummed, pushing on his chest so he laid back.

He watched you move, a smirk on his face, his pupils blown. You sat on his thighs, stroking him, seeing his abs tense and relax, and he let out a long, deep moan.

"You are such a good father and husband, always going above and beyond for us," you said, leaning down and licking his length. "Let me show you how much I appreciate you,"

You leaned down and teased his head with your tongue, enjoying the string of curses that came tumbling from his mouth.

A soft hum escaped you as you slowly, and carefully, sucked on the head, teasing and tasting.

"Love, you are exquisite," he groaned, burying his fingers in your hair.

You took him deeper, hollowing your cheeks, letting him move at the pace he desired. All you wanted to do was please him, you loved when his voice would crack from pleasure and the way his fingers would tug on your hair.

"Come here," he said, cupping your cheek.

You pulled off of him with a pop, moving to sit on top of him, kissing him and grinding against his length.

"Mmm, I could do this forever," you hummed, biting his bottom lip and tugging.

He ran his hands up and down your back, nibbling at your shoulder, suckling marks into your skin.

Your swell was pressed against his abs, and he could feel every slight movement, enjoying the sight of you rolling your hips.

He guided you down onto his cock, the sheets bunched up around the two of you, and he rolled his hips, his hands gripping your ass.

"You are stunning," he murmured, kissing the valley between your breasts.

His lips brushed over your nipples, sucking, his teeth grazing them, his groans vibrating through your body.

"Eli- stop, they are too sensitive," you panted, running your nails over his skin, leaving bright red scratches.

"Sorry, love," he replied, grinning at the sting of your nails.

He did most of the work, gently rocking you in a steady rhythm, and the two of you moaned, the pleasure coursing through your bodies, his lips brushing your neck.

It was a slow, hot and steamy fuck, you felt like your body was on fire, the sweat and heat radiating off the two of you.

You leaned forward a little, allowing Elijah to get a little more friction, his hips moving faster, the both of you panting and moaning.

"Ah- Elijah, I'm-," you panted against his lips.

You buried your head in the crook of his neck as you came undone, clenching around him.

Elijah followed suit, the sensation of your orgasm bringing him to the edge.

He cupped the back of your neck, bringing you down for a kiss, and the two of you hummed, content and sated, basking in the afterglow.

"I wish we could stay like this," you sighed, nuzzling against him.

He laughed, and gently rolled you onto your side, pulling out of you and tucking you against his chest, both of you smiling like idiots.

"I love you," he said, stroking your hair.

"I love you too," you whispered, resting your head on his arm, letting the world melt away for just a few minutes.

Elijah watched you drift off to sleep, a small smile on his face. He kissed your forehead and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of being next to you.

It was days like these that made him wonder what he did to deserve it. That perhaps there was some sort of higher power that had guided him to you, that brought him such profound peace and happiness after centuries of darkness.

You mumbled and cuddled up against him, he placed his hand on your belly, rubbing it with his thumb, thinking about how lucky he was.

He was living a life he never thought he would have, a family of his own, one he created. He didn't know what was waiting for him after he was done with this life, but he hoped you would be there with him.

In the next life, and all the ones after that.

♡♡ Tag-List ♡♡

♡ @gorgeouslydangerous ♡ @starkleila ♡ @lydia1369sworld ♡ @notleylaaa ♡ @vampiresluv ♡ @myanmy ♡ @xflowerbombxo ♡ @maryvibess ♡ @always-and-forever-daydreaming ♡ @criminallminds ♡ @theesexystallion ♡ @rosemarypotion ♡ @spnaquakindgdom ♡ @amournoir ♡ @loving-and-dreaming ♡

♡ @meeom ♡ @damienmorton ♡ @wickedmuse ♡ @sunkissedebony97 ♡ @idk00sblog ♡ @savannaounana♡ @cs-please ♡ complicatedandconfusing-25 ♡ @hamiltimes ♡ @akala6670229 ♡ @yeaiamme2 ♡ @itsjulzandmydiamonds ♡ @spideysbabe ♡ @witch-of-letters ♡ @elijahstwink ♡ @rosecentury ♡ @sekaishell ♡ @ziayamikaelson ♡ @amanda08319 ♡ @starshipcookie

I've gotten a few dm's about my tags not working (yay) so let me know if its still a problem, I just re-tagged all of you so hopefully that solved it ♡

Also! If you wish to be removed from the tag list just send me a dm, you won't hurt my feelings (it's okay if you got sick of me ~lol) I don't wish to hold you hostage ♡

125 notes · View notes

homestylehughes · 18 hours

Text

But Daddy I Love Him

instagram au.

♥︎ luke hughes x zegras! sister

♥︎ face claim: marsai martin

"i forget if this was ever fun"

yn.zegras

liked by liked by lhughes_06, your.bsf and 55,456 others

yn.zegras i forgot this was even fun.

trevorzegras look at little sis bowling

↳ yn.zegras best bowler in the family ‼️

trevorzegras who's feet are those in the last picture?

↳ yn.zegras no oneeeeeee!

↳ trevorzegras hmmm...i dont trust you.

your.bsf OMG HOTTIE

↳ yn.zegras MY FAVVVVV ILY

your.bsf YOU WENT BOWLING WITHOUT ME FAKE.

↳ yn.zegras next time. i promise.

lhughes_06 pro bowler 🫡🔥

↳ yn.zegras YUPPPPPP!!!!

lhughes_06 i wonder who took all of those pictures...

↳ yn.zegras me too... he's kinda cute 😟

↳ lhughes_06 oh really?

jackhughes hope you got a strike for me little zegras

↳ yn.zegras i did just for you jack

_quinnhughes ceo of posting on instagram 🫡

↳ yn.zegras oh iiiii knowwww, maybe you should take a few lessons from me.

↳_quinnhughes teach me your ways pleaseeeee

colecaufield the best 5'3 bowler i know

↳ yn.zegras best 5'7 hockey player i know

lhughes_06

liked by yn.zegras, jackhughes and 160,678 others

lhughes_06 fun times

yn.zegras wow luke you couldnt pick a better caption

↳ lhughes_06 i think its pretty good, thank you.

↳ yn.zegras its pretty bad, but i'll let it slide this once

yn.zegras whos that girl in the second picture..

↳ lhughes_06 idk but she's cute 🤭

jackhughes rusty whos in the second photo

↳ lhughes_06 someone

trevorzegras luke that better not be yn

↳ yn.zegras ...

↳ lhughes_06 ...

trevorzegras jack are you seeing this?

↳ jackhughes yeah i sure am.

↳ trevorzegras i dont like it.

↳ jackhughes neither do i.

_quinnhughes please tell me you won the game luke

↳ lhughes_06 i lost...

↳ quinnhughes LOOSERRRRRRRRRR👎🏼👎🏼

hughesfanpage124 yn and luke in the same place??? DATE??

↳hockeygossip they are def together

↳ lukehugheshottie ew i hope not

↳hughesfanpage124 i really hope they're together, they would be sooo cute. i SHIP.

-----------------------------------♡-----------------------------------------

an: hiiiiii!!! the second part is hereeee!! hopefully you guys are okay with the connection and up of the lyrics kinda, i want to make it as interesting, and have it make sense as much as i can. idk if that made any sense LOL. anyways i added a post from luke's pov, which i loved. starting to see a little bit of build up of luke and yn. more coming veryyyy soon, i plan on updating the story every other day! like and reblog id you enjoy, and as always much love <3

tags🎀: @lukey-pookie-hughes43 @bruinsfan234

#nhl fanfiction #nhl hockey #nhl imagine #nhl x reader #nhl fic #new jersey devils #luke hughes fic #luke hughes x reader #luke hughes imagine #luke hughes fluff #luke hughes x sister!reader #luke hughes x y/n

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penkura · 3 days

Note

Hi! I saw that your requests are open!

Would you be alright writing headcanons for a GN!Reader(Fem is fine too if it's a struggle) for Sanji and Zoro with an idiot reader? The type to throw themselves in danger, believe people at face value, able to succeed a mission by failing all the instructions ect.

Im a big fan of idiot readers because I am one myself, if you could add some cuddling in there too I would be so grateful

Take care!

Hi!! Gosh, this was fun to write lol. Sanji and Zoro are my boys, they would both def end up with idiot readers lol. I hope you like it! :)

Sanji

You, an idiot?

His precious, darling beloved?

Never, he’d fight anyone who said you were! He’d never call you that himse—

Oh there you go again, throwing yourself in front of Luffy. Haven’t you learned he’ll be fine?

You do it every time, and even after Sanji and the others tell you to stop being so self sacrificing, they get enough of that with Zoro

Its fine, its fine, Sanji knows you just want to protect your friends

Its even fine when you nearly fall for an obvious scam of some woman needing money to pay off debtors, and it just happened to be the same amount in your hand

Thank goodness he was nearby and able to grab your hand to get you away from that, telling you what was going on

You felt really stupid for that, but it was fine, no problems, Sanji kept you from losing your money, Nami would’ve killed you both if you had

Its not fine when you end up injured this time, jumping in front of him when an enemy throws a spear at him

It barely grazed you when you pushed Sanji out of the way, but he’s still horrified knowing it was because you were protecting him that it happened

No matter how many times Chopper tries to Sanji that you’ll be okay, it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, he’s still upset with himself for being distracted by another enemy

Sanji wants to distract himself but you won’t let him leave you alone, dragging him into the bed you’re staying in that night and demanding cuddles since you’re hurt (not that hurt but still)

He’s glad to obliged, holding you close and burying his face in your shoulder while you stroke his hair

“Sorry I worried you, Sanji.”

“You’ve got to stop throwing yourself in front of people…”

He just doesn’t want to lose you

Zoro

He’s the one that calls you an idiot the most

In a loving way the majority of the time, but other times he really does mean it

The day you almost got swept away to another crew because on of their members tried to sell you a sob story about needing medicine for a sick kid?

Yeah you were an idiot for that one

The time you run to protect Nami, shoving her out of the way and receiving a deep gash on your abdomen

Zoro knows you want to protect people, to protect your family

But you should let him handle things sometimes!

He was on his way to protect Nami himself, but of course, you being you, ended up jumping ahead and pushing her away from the Marine attacking her

After all the Marines are taken care of, Chopper has you in the infirmary on Sunny immediately to assess your wounds

You got the worst of it, good job!

Zoro hears you got the worst of it, say your prayers because he’s pissed

Not entirely at you, partially at the Marine that got you, but still at you too

“You’re lucky his weapon didn’t have poison on it or somethin’!”

“I don’t think the Marines use poison, Zoro.”

“That’s not the point!”

You let him go off, telling you everything that could’ve gone wrong

It’s rare for even you to see this side of him, but it’s nice to know he cares this much

Eventually Zoro calms down, taking a deep breath before he walks back over and drags you into a hug

“You’re such a damn idiot you know?”

You nod, but smile, “but I’m your idiot, right?”

He rolls his one good eye and nods himself

“Yeah, you’re my idiot.”

He wouldn’t change a thing if it meant you were his and he was yours

Though he would like you be a little more careful in the future

#one piece x reader #zoro x reader #roranoa zoro x reader #reader insert #sanji x reader #black leg sanji x reader #fem!reader

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chenlbear · 2 days

Text

jaemin x afab reader

warnings: smut, pet names (angel, sweetheart).

a/n: well, i attempted to write smut after not doing so for ages. im hoping this is good enough! (and yes, this was based off of bridgerton, i just binge watched it and jaemin was the first person who popped into my head).

The two of you were only wedded for 3 weeks and it was already going downhill. Yes, the honeymoon phase was brilliant, having fun together and ignoring each others responsibilities of being duke and duchess but it shortly ended in many many fights, avoiding each other at no cost. Everyone could sense what happened. It was normal.

You were about to exit your room but heard Jaemin's heavy footsteps on the ground, “y/n, are you asleep already?” He sighed, no response but he could see you through the tiny crack in the door. "You can't hide, I saw you already."

You open your door a pinch, gently stepping out from behind it without uttering a word to your husband. "Come on angel. I want to talk with you out here, you can spare me two minutes, yeah?" You nod your head at him and exit your room, moving to the staircase that sat between your two bedrooms.

"What is it?" You mumble as you look up at the male, "You haven't been in all day and you decide now is a good time to talk? Being out for god knows how long and with whom ever it might be."

Shock struck Jaemin’s face, "With whom? Is that what you think of me?" He scoffed.

“I thought we-" You cut him off by scoffing and tried to walk away but he grabbed your wrist before you could and you sat you down on the stairs. "I believe we aren't finished, is that really what you think of me, y/n?"

"I believe that is. You clearly don't think much of me or our marriage just because of these petty arguments. We have responsibilities to handle, don't you realise that?" He bent down to your level, slotting himself in between your legs, his hands slowly hiking up the nightgown you adorned. "How about I show you I truly do think so much of you and our marriage? Make you think about just me and not any silly worries clouding that pretty little head of yours.”

"Jaem.. you can't just do this when we get angry with one another, its not going to.." Your breath hitched as his face got closer to yours, his soft breath hitting your face. "Really? I do believe it has worked in the past, y/n." He smirked and pressed his lips against your temple, working his way down.

His hand lifts up under the bottom of your nightdress, his hands lingering on your inner thigh, looking at you asking if its okay if he can go further. You nod but thats not good enough for him, "Words sweetheart."

"Y-Yes Jaem, please.. need you to touch me." You breath out as you grab his hand and guide it to where you need him the most and he tuts, "Someones greedy, have you been so deprived of me? Poor baby having to wait so long for someone to touch her."

"Hurry up, will you? You don't want to get caught from the maids." Jaemin chuckled, "As you please." He pushed himself back, allowing his head to travel down to your thighs instead, nipping and licking the skin that lead to your aching core. You let out a soft moan, moving your hands to his hair to which he happily took with a low groan from the tight grip you had on his locks already.

He used his spare hand to move your panties down your thighs, the other pressing your hip down roughly to keep you in place. He began kitty licking you, soon becoming more rough with his tongue shoved inside you and his nose rubbing against your clit.

#nct dream x reader #nct dream smut #nct dream x reader smut #nct smut #jaemin x reader smut #jaemin smut #nct x reader smut #smut #jaemin x you smut #jaemin x you #nct x you #nct dream x you #nct dream x y/n

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carmenberzattosgf · 2 days

Note

my hand is good! I have two scars now under my middle finger on my palm but all is well!

I'm also here to ask about birthday treatment from carmy? I dontnthink he does a lot for his birthday and I personally don't do a lot so I think its either a sup casual affair or he's celebrating the fuck out of it because he's like that's my s/o and I love them and this is the day they started existing and I love that.

it is simply my birthday and i want to be spending it with fiction people but alas!

-🌂

OMG HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!! I hope you have a wonderful day my dear friend <3

To answer your question though, Carmy is 100% celebrating the fuck out of you. He’s going to wake you up with breakfast in bed with your favorite breakfast foods. He’ll even buy some silly little balloons to have in the kitchen and the living room. They’re not even displayed all cute they’re just, floating on the ceiling, but he made the effort!

The whole day is all about you. If you want your nails done? Okay, sold, he’s paying for them. Hair done? Yep, he’s tagging along and covering the bill. He’s going to watch all your favorite movies and shows with you cuddled up on the couch.

If you want to have a proper birthday dinner, he’s going to make a phone call and get a table for you and all of your friends ( and him of course) at the nicest restaurant in Chicago. Carmy’s also going to make sure they do a dessert with the candles in it as well.

Although, if you don’t want a proper birthday dinner, he cooks one for you at home, anyway. Carmy’s already come up with the perfect birthday dinner menu. Literally, he’s thought of an appetizer, main course, and he’s made your favorite flavor of birthday cake. Oh, and he sings you happy birthday while you blow out your candles. To be completely honest, he films you blowing out your candles just because he wants to keep the moment forever.

Now to talk about gifts, he probably asked Sugar or Syd for help a couple of days before your birthday. While Carmy is talented in so many things, gift selecting is not one of them. He’d much rather prefer to go ahead and buy you the things you’ve mentioned wanting. There’s so much going on in that head of his, he doesn’t want to forget about things you’ve said.

I like to think that after talking with Syd and Sugar, he decides to buy you a gold necklace with his initial on it. It’s not huge or flashy. The necklace is a simple gold chain with a small round pendant attached to it. He opts to have a “C” engraved on the pendant in a dainty, cursive font.

The gift is perfect. You can’t help the tears that well up in your eyes as you look over the pendant in the velvet box. Your eyes widen when you see the 18k gold certification in the box. “Carmen—this is so gorgeous—you really didn’t have to splurge like this. I would have been happy with nothing.” At this point the tears freely flow from your eyes as you look at Carmy, who’s just smiling happily.

“It’s your birthday, baby. I love you.” There’s a break in Carmy’s sentence as he cups your face, wiping your tears away with his thumb. “You’re worth every single penny and more,” he says before leaning in to give you a small kiss.

“I love you so much, Carm. Wanna help me put it on?” He’s eager to see the necklace on you, so he stands up fast to get the box from you. Carmy stands behind you and clasps the necklace at the back of your neck.

“There we go. How’s it look?” Carmen asks before walking back in front of you. Honestly, he has to catch his breath for a second. He didn’t realize how much of an effect seeing you wear his initial would have on him, but he is a man after all.

“It’s so gorgeous, Carm.” Your face beams you stand up to look at the necklace through the mirror on the wall of the living room. “What do you think?”

Carmen walks up behind you, wrapping his arms around your waist and setting his head on your shoulder. “I think you’re beautiful. Absolutely beautiful, my love.”

#carmen berzatto x reader #carmen berzatto #the bear #carmy berzatto x reader #the bear fanfiction #carmy x you #carmen berzatto imagine #carmy x reader #carmy berzatto #carmy bear #carmen berzatto fanfiction

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epiclamer · 6 hours

Note

Hiiiii Epic! I'm not sure if requests are open so if they aren't feel free to ignore!

My depression is getting bad again and I was wondering if you'd be willing to write about a depressed Hero who keeps purposefully putting themselves in harm's way, getting more and more reckless in every fight. Villain notices and has to save Hero from themselves. However they choose to do that, be it kidnapping or something less nefarious is totally up to you!

Hiya! I hope this makes your day a bit better!!

Subtle

“It’s getting bad again, isn’t it?”

Villain huffed, “I think that’s my line.” They looked around, taking in their surroundings, calculating the amount of damage control they’d need to perform.

“If you’re here that means it’s bad.” Hero avoided the other’s gaze, glaring down at the hardwood floor beneath their feet instead.

“Does that make me the bearer of bad news?”

Hero shrugged, turning their back on the villain as they began to shuffle through the clutter of their home.

The criminal cleared their throat, resuming a bit more of an awkward stance as they watched their nemesis sift through piles of dirty clothes and dishes. “Unfortunately, if you were to bet that was the case, you’d be correct.”

Villain took a few steps forwards, keeping enough distance to assure the hero they weren’t a threat. When the other barely acknowledged them, Villain moved in closer—close enough to place a gentle hand against their bare shoulder. Normally they would’ve delighted in the shivers and twitches of their enemy’s skin under their palm, yet this time it felt more like a punishment than anything else.

“Did you use antiseptic?”

“Sorry?” The hero’s voice was strained like they were on the verge of tears.

“You’re burning up. I watched you take that beating for your sidekick and I know that Supervillain did a number on you in return.” Villain pulled their hand back, worried they were doing more harm than good. “Did you use antiseptic when you flushed your wounds? Or could they be infected?”

They were crying now, the villain could see it, tear drops hitting the wood floor one after the other. Still, the hero refused to look at them.

“Fuck, I don’t know, Villain. I didn’t even have time—I haven’t even checked—Fuck, I’m sick and I’m fucking exhausted and I-I’m bleeding all the time I’m bleeding its everywhere on my clothes and my sheets and my fucking everything, I’m so dirty—” Hero interrupted their ramble with a sob, curling in on themselves, leaving their previous mindlessly searching on hold.

Villain bent down, but they hesitated, taking a moment to scan their nemesis in their fetal position. Both of their hands grasped their head, protecting their skull from invisible blows, their knees tucked into their chest, shielding their vital organs from a relentless imaginary beating.

Even unconsciously the hero’s body accepted torture.

“I deserve it, I deserve it, I deserve it.” Rang sickeningly loud through the hero’s apartment. Words Villain never thought they’d hear their nemesis chant.

The hero was always so full of surprises.

“Breathe, Hero, breathe.” What the hell were they supposed to say? Sure, they had taken care of their nemesis prior, whenever it started to unravel for them, but never before had the crime-stopper broken down like this. “Everything is okay, I’m here now. I’ve got you.”

Whatever was left of the hero’s facade shattered at that. They crumpled back against the villain—to which they were greeted with a warm embrace—tears uncontrollably streaming and sobs so hoarse they seemed inhuman.

Soundlessly, the villain pulled a pin-prick from their inner jacket pocket, carefully lining up the end of the needle with the hero’s exposed jugular vein. It felt wrong, to drug the one person they had come closer with than anyone ever before. But at the same time…

It was for their own good.

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sweetteainthesummerx · 8 hours

Text

THE LOVE LASTS SO LONG (9)

In which Aubrey gets interviewed...

series masterlist

ellemagazine posted

ellemagazine Our June edition features Aubrey Yang on her directing debut, the trajectory of her career and new friends in Formula One. Full article linked in bio.

tagged: aubreyyang

liked by formula1, olliebearman, mckennagraceful and 80,944 others

view all comments

user1 ON MY HANDS AND KNEES BARK BARK SHES SO FINE

aubreyyang thank you for having me Elle! always a blast 💋

-- aubberieloverss MOTHERRR

dior.n.goodjohn ILY UR SO BEAUTIFUL AND ETHERAL

-- aubreyyang stawpp ur making me blush

formula1 thank you for the shout out! hope to see you in the Ferrari paddocks soon 🏎️

liked by aubreyyang

-- f1wagsupdates BAHAHA f1 admin ur brave for that one

lilymhe prettiest girl

-- aubreyyang me and dior miss u tons! can't wait to see u soon

mvertsppdudu can ollie fight ill catch him in the paddocks

ELLE MAGAZINE

NEW ISSUE

INTERVIEW WITH AUBREY YANG

Aubrey Yang, the multi-faceted actress debuts her talent and grit for directing and screenwriting in her short film Pelt, winning the Best Screenplay and a notable nominee for the Best Film during London Film week. Since we've last seen her at Elle New York, she has turned 18, nearing 19 now, and made some drastic changes to her life.

Since her film, Yang has not been in any other production as talent, but teases us with a new project "that's coming soon, don't worry". She adores her new found love for being a creative, and is scouting to get her hands on more projects in Hollywood on that side of the camera.

Her studies continue at New York University and she is set to graduate early, next year. When asked about her ability to balance school and work, she smiles knowingly and tells us that "it's important to take breaks, but more importantly, I've chosen things I love to do".

During these breaks, Yang is often seen with fellow young actress Dior Goodjohn and international pop sensation Olivia Rodrigo. But 18 has brought a new hobby: Formula One.

"I met Lily [Muni He] and Alex [Albon] at a gala, and we hit it off. They're like my parents" she answers adoringly. She has been seen multiple times in both the Williams and Ferrari garages visiting with fans and learning about the mechanics of racing.

"I've met some wonderful people; I never really got to be a regular teenager because I was working and going to university early. They've really helped teach me about having fun and letting loose."

Next year when we inevitably feature her lovely face again, we'll see the new changes to her life.

MESSAGES

ollie

I read ur article it was great

sad I didn't get a shout out tho :(

aubrey

sorry boo

PROMISE TO GIVE YOU ONE NEXT YEARR

ollie

okay :)

anyways r we still on for the trip?

aubrey

yes mr. bearman

ollie

I was thinking Charles and Alex might want to go w us

aubrey

YESSS MY FAV MONAGESQUES

ollie

gotta go but talk later? ☺️

aubrey

kk cya bearman

ollie

bye yang :)

MESSAGES

alex 🖼️

cou cou chérie!

(hey dear)

aubrey 🎬

AHH ALEX J'avais l'intention de t'envoyer un texto ! On part en voyage en Europe ?

(I was meaning to text you, are we on for the Europe trip?)

alex 🖼️

yes but I have smth to ask

aubrey 🎬

um not the English what's wrong

alex 🖼️

DO U LIKE OLLIE

aubrey 🎬

UM BYE WHY

alex 🖼️

bc I have to watch him text u and its dégoûtant

(disgusting)

aubrey 🎬

bro idk

dior thinks we like each other

its just hes becoming such a good friend

he makes me smile

and hes so sweet and kind and gentle

hes not like any other guy ik

alex 🖼️

its going to be such a long trip 😔

aubreyyang posted on their story

olliebearman replied to your story

cute 😊

aubreyyang

ikr shes my cousins baby

olliebearman

very cute

wanna play 9 ball on message

aubreyyang

YOURE ON

bearyfast_04 posted

bearyfast_04 I think im ready to be a father

liked by alexandrasaintmleux, leosdad and 10 others

leosdad fatherhood is hard

-- landoakabob u have a dog

-- leosdad u take that back hes my son

pastryboy SIR U ARE 21 WDYM CHILDREN

-- bearyfast_04 but look at her 🥰

-- arthuranddw another fallen soldier

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Taglist: @callsignwidow @iloveyou3000morgan @honethatty12 @taygrls

#f1 drivers #f1 smau #f1 x reader #formula 1 #ollie bearman #ollie bearman x reader #ollie bearman x you #charles leclerc #f1 imagine #formula one #f1 2024 #f1 fic #f1 fanfic #ollie bearman x female reader #ollie bearman fluff #ollie bearman imagine #ollie bearman x y/n #oliver bearman

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majorproblems77 · 3 days

Text

Sacred realm update! so I'm back!

Hi all!

Hope your doing well! :D

Only a few days late, Exam season man, what can you do?

This update shows link and Time Escaping. And time having... a Time....

Alright, now for the important stuff! Sacred realm belongs to @zelda-the-sacred-realm, and all art from the comics belongs to the comic artist. I've got their permission to do these! I love the comic so much its so good and so well done!

The link to the update can be found here! You should go reblog it, it's great, give it some love, please? :D

Let's do this, grab your popcorn and your water. Let's go! :D

Cinnamon roll Link strikes again, Clearly, the big purple guy just wants a hug!

oh no...

Panic!

Time's little superhero slide here.

Also, it must be said he's doing all this while carrying an adult. (Or close enough.) I know he's a spirit and all but that's VERY impressive!

You know when you're reading and you can hear the atmosphere, you can hear the moment that a breath is held. And time stands still.

This. The moment in a movie when everything stops before the action picks up in another way.

The talent it takes to get it from still images. I just am in awe.

Pure fear from Link.

Props to Time here for remaining calm while he's got the cinnamon roll here just scared out of his mind.

Time... Being reassuring?

Wow.

This is important I think for these two's relationship. The need to protect someone only comes to people who dont really hate someone. Before this, I'm pretty sure Link doesn't think Time cares too much about him.

Why would he right? Time's been nothing but cold to him.

(More on this later)

Link getting cocooned in Time's cloak is just, everything to me. It's such a caring more from him. (Even if it is a you can't die thing)

Ouch, that's gotta hurt

Oh man, this man is like... low-key gripping onto him.

Excuse me while I cry a little?

Twilightttttt ;-;

DIRECT FAMILY CONNECTION

EXCUSE ME WHILE I CRY MORE? ;-;-;-;

TIME? OH YOU POOR MAN

This reaction gives me father-son vibes but with time and Link, it's giving me life because oh my god these two.

Link is a cinnamon roll and must be protected.

PFFFFFFTTTT

Rip

This made me laugh I won't lie. Damit Time I was rooting for some Dad Time in this world.

Says the 'Small cinnamon roll with scared of everything issues.'

I love him but ohhhh man Time is gonna kill you

SEE

RUN LINK

RUN

Link, poor guy. Man needs help okay.

This map is interesting, I reckon is a list of the first three heroes we meet.

That top one is Skyloft. With Hylia and the floating island. - For Sky. who we met first.

The middle one has someone holding The double helix sword... That's the fierce deity on the middle level. We know Time has a connection to the Fierce deity mask. And in turn the deity himself. So this middle level is Time.

And that lower one.

If im right, This is the Twilight realm, and we will find ourselves there soon. The people look similar to the 'Link' we see on the land level to an extent while still holding a semblance of individuality.

Its almost, inverted? Like the twilight people were. Rather than looking different different.

I'm excited to see where this goes.

Also

Hi it's later

So I'm a sucker for visual storytelling in backgrounds and I think this might be more than an exploration into the depths beneath the ice.

Starting with this.

I think this, is Time being vulnerable.

The break from a cold icy exterior to something a little more personal.

Funny how when Time begins to see more personal stuff, he has more visions of the past.

The trigger has him almost scared, just look at him.

Why would Time be scared, if he didn't care?

Time appears to carry a lot of guilt around Twilight.

And when Link calls him out on it, he returns to that icy exterior, not allowing himself the opportunity to be vulnerable again.

And I wonder if that has to be explored before he can take his place within the medallion. Trials by fire, as they are so suitably called, can be for the spirits as much as Link.

Just a thought tho.

That's all from me! Hope you have a great day! :D

#comic analysis with major #ramble corner with major #zelda sacred realm #zeldathesacredrealm #sacred realm #sr twilight #loz sr #sr realms #sr time #i love this comic #Writing these brings me almost as much joy as Sky does #And that's saying something #because in every iteration dear god does he bring me joy #ztsr #hero of time #hero of realms #sacred realm analysis #this comic brings me so much joy

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in1-nutshell · 11 hours

Note

Remember you said this "These resquest will be opened for a short amount of time, so get them in before I close once more."

I have a lot of request for you 99% of them I can't remember but they will pop up again I think now I don't think you ever wrote a story or have a buddy thats from our universe that found some random watch that allows her to go to different transformers universes? her the first universe she goes to is G1

So when she meets them she like literally fan girls over them all she wasn't even afraid of the decepticons, so when the cons captured her she somehow got out of her restraints and just went around asking the cons for their autograph her first autograph was starscream ofc and well you can take it from their

I don't recall see that one in the inbox, it could have been lost in the inbox and disappeared (been noticing that happens). But better late than never!

Hope you enjoy!

Human Buddy from the real world traveling to meet the G1 Bots and Cons

SFW, Platonic, Human reader

No one knows where Buddy came from or why she knows so much about them, but she is fun to be around.

Buddy can be serious and kind when needed.

… but there are certain things that have both sides questioning the sanity of this human.

For example, her interactions with nearly every human ally the Autobots had befriended.

Buddy looking at Sparkplug and Chip working.

“… You guys are doing your best and we all love you for that.”--Buddy

“What?”—Sparkplug and Chip

“What?”--Buddy

Buddy walks off to go find Wheeljack.

“I have so many questions about that kid.”--Sparkplug

A little while later…

“Carly if you could pick a bot to have as a partner, who would it be?”--Buddy

“Buddy I’m in a happy relationship with Spike.”--Carly

“I mean you and Ironhide might have some potential, Wheeljack or hey maybe even Bumblebee!”--Buddy

“Buddy, I have Spike.”--Carly

“And if there was no Spike?”--Buddy

Carly sighs and shakes her head.

“You haven’t answered the question, Carly! Answer it!”--Buddy

A little while later…

Buddy is holding a wrench in their hand looking at Ratchet.

“It’s all in the wrist Buddy. Try throwing it.”--Ratchet

Buddy throws it just as Spike turns the corner and gets knocked out.

Ratchet gets startled by the sudden injury.

“Spike!”--Ratchet

“He’s fine.”--Buddy

“He’s bleeding from the forehead!”--Ratchet

“He’s survived worse.”—Buddy

Another while later…

Buddy is flying with Astoria and Powerglide.

“Hey Powerglide, why does Astoria call you babygirl?”--Buddy

“How about we stop talking.”--Powerglide

“Well, I call him that because he doesn’t like it when I call him—”--Astoria

“HOW ABOUT WE STOP TALKING!”--Powerglide

Another while later…

Buddy is having a beach trip with Seaspray and Alana.

“Seaspray what’s that on your arm?”--Alana

“Nothing Alana. Just some Cybertronain list for parts.”--Seaspray

“No, its not. You put Alana’s name on your arm.”--Buddy

Alana blushes heavily.

Seaspray looks like he’s about to short circuit.

Another while later…

Tracks was waiting for Buddy and Raoul in the parking lot.

Raoul and Buddy come sprinting to Tracks opening and nearly slamming the door.

“What on Cybertron’s moon was that for?!”--Tracks

“Drive!”--Buddy

“What?!”--Tracks

“DRIVE!”--Raoul

Tracks transforms into his flying car alt mode and is flying through the skies.

“What happened down there?!”--Tracks

“Raoul thought it was a good idea to try and steal a candy bar from the vendor and got caught.”--Buddy

“Okay…”--Tracks

“And the vendor thought it was Buddy and she accidentally decked him.”--Raoul

“You what?!”--Tracks

Buddy loves spending time with the bots no matter what they are doing.

Buddy could be watching the birds in the park with Beachcomber and wouldn’t complain one bit.

They could be with the Twins speeding down an empty road and she wouldn’t scold them too much.

Buddy could be helping Cosmos and the Aerial bots with cleaning and the only complain that would come out of them would come from a potential cold if they didn’t dry themselves correctly.

Even then!

Buddy is just happy to be here with everyone.

Buddy looking up at Grimlock.

“New human?”--Grimlock

Buddy runs up to his pede and hugs him.

“I have been waiting for this moment for so long.”--Buddy

Grimlock looks down.

“Human… okay?”--Grimlock

Buddy just tries hugging his pede tighter.

“Human trying to tackle Grimlock?”--Grimlock

Swoop and the others come over to see the human hugging their leader’s pede.

Buddy squeals and practically launches themselves on Swoop.

“Me Swoop have no idea what happening… but this nice.”--Swoop

The bots enjoyed having Buddy around.

Meanwhile with the Decepticons…

Otimus and Megatron both agree for a temporary ceasefire until they could get Buddy back home after their encounter with the Cons.

So many of the Cons are confused why this human is happy to see them and trying to hug them.

Starscream is one of the victims of these hugs.

Starscream pointing his null ray at Ironhide.

“SO long Autobotscum!”--Starscream

“Screamer!”--Buddy

Starscream makes a startled noise as he see her coming closer.

“Get away from me!”--Starscream

“There is no escape from the hugs Starscream! Just let me hug you!”--Buddy

“NEVER!”--Starscream

Megatron is considering keeping them as Starscream repellent.

But he has questions on why they want to use him as target practice with soda cans.

Not all bots are so reluctant from the sudden affection.

Though some would rather have rust in between their joints than to admit they enjoy having these little hugs from a strange Fleshy.

Megatron also has to implement a search every time they retreat to their underwater base.

“Soundwave.”--Megatron

“…”--Soundwave

“Soundwave open up.”--Megatron

“…”--Soundwave

“…”--Megatron

Soundwave reluctantly opens his sub space to have Buddy inside with a smile on her face.

“Hey Megs!”--Buddy

“Soundwave we’ve talked about this…”--Megatron

#transformers x reader #maccadam #human buddy #g1 transformers x platonic reader #g1 transformers x reader

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sitp-recs · 3 days

Note

hey liv!! my gf moves back home and away from me soon its been an emotional time in our household do you have any drarry recs that involve them long distancing/waiting for the other to come back to them ❤️‍🩹 thanks for all your work appreciate you !

I’m so sorry to hear that anon, sending hugs your way. It’s tough to navigate long-distance relationships but I know you guys will find your way back to each other soon enough ❤️‍🩹 I hope these recs can offer you some comfort:

Relic Radiation by @tackytigerfic (M, 1k)

Draco goes into space, leaving behind his son Scorpius (who has just started at Hogwarts, at least), and his not-quite-boyfriend Harry Potter. But Harry can't stop loving Draco just because he's approximately 408km up, in constant orbit.

On Your Way by @lqtraintracks (M, 2k)

Draco waits for Harry to return from an Auror mission.

Mad Blood Stirring by provocative_envy (E, 3k) - AU

It's not like they've been angrily hooking up on the sly since meeting at a Juniors skills camp in fucking Manitoba four years ago, except that's exactly what they've been doing.

Litany by thistle_verse (M, 7k)

With the wizarding world on lockdown due to a magic-draining pandemic, Harry is stuck in Grimmauld Place, bored and alone—until the ghost of Draco Malfoy shows up to haunt him.

Service Bell by @shiftylinguini (E, 8k)

Draco is: a werewolf, living in a cabin in the woods, minding his own business, and never going to buy plaid because he's not that much of a fucking cliche (yet). He's also counting down the days until he sees Harry again.

i wake up falling, orphaned (M, 9k)

Draco’s always leaving, one way or another. Harry’s usually 240 thousand miles too late.

‘Til Our Compass Stands Still by china_nightingale (M, 9k)

Harry and Draco eventually realise that things don't always go to plan, even if it's a plan they've been carefully crafting to keep themselves safe from each other.

Yours Truly by @skeptiquewrites (M, 15k)

Every single one of Harry’s exes has gone on to marry the next person they date, and with the upcoming nuptials of numbers six and seven to each other, Harry’s feeling exhausted by it all. It doesn’t really matter if he lets people assume Draco Malfoy is his boyfriend for a moment of peace. In any case, Draco’s been away for five years and there’s no way he would find out, right?

Sunseeker by @shiftylinguini (E, 15k)

Harry is a struggling writer. Namely, he is struggling with: writing his next book, dealing with his agent, finding a decent tea strainer, fielding his friend's concern over the aforementioned book, and figuring out who the cat loitering in his garden belongs to. He also has a slight liking-Malfoy problem. Okay, he has a massive liking-Malfoy problem.

Unfinished Business by cupiscent (E, 20k)

Ten years after the War ends, Harry and Draco still haven't got their act together. But maybe it's not too late.

Just Give Me a Reason by sassy_cissa (E, 24k)

It's easy to misunderstand a situation when you're in the same country – when your new boyfriend is thousands of miles away, it's nearly impossible. Toss in an unexpected pregnancy, an ex-boyfriend and The Prophet with its exaggerations and it's no wonder Draco is confused.

Running on Air by eleventy7 (T, 75k)

Draco Malfoy has been missing for three years. Harry is assigned the cold case and finds himself slowly falling in love with the memories he collects.

Tapestry by @kbrick (E, 91k)

This is a love story that isn't perfect, about two people whose timing is never quite right, and all the moments that come together to make something extraordinarily beautiful anyway.

#asks #anon #Drarry reclist #long distance relationship

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reidsdimples · 1 day

Text

When Everything Changed | Part 2

Part 1

Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Enemies to lovers- Angst 🖤

Inspired by Wires by Athlete

Tw: hospitals, injury, Spencer near death

Your feud with Spencer feels trivial after you’re both shot

The first time you wake, you’re in a panic. The ceiling of the trauma unit is speeding by in a blur while people around you push the stretcher. There’s an immense amount of pressure and pain in your shoulder which is probably why you’re screaming. It’s also probably why every nerve in your body feels like it’s on fire.

“They’re FBI agents! Get them in here now,” somebody screams.

You black out again and come to as you’re being moved onto a table. The room sways as you crash harshly into the metal surface.

“Spencer…” you murmur as one of the surgeons places a mask over your face. All goes black with shouts and medical equipment blaring in your ears.

The room comes into view in a blur. You try to glance around but the figure standing over you is indistinguishable.

Finally your brain catches up to your eyes and you see JJ and Rossi at your bedside.

“What happ…” your voice gives out.

“You were shot in the shoulder. It was a flesh wound, they got the bullet out,” Rossi says and places his hand on yours.

You allow Rossi’s father-like comfort to wash over you before panic seized you once more. The room stirs and your stomach drops as the reality of the situation kicks in.

You wince and lay your head back, it feels like someone placed a led weight in your shoulder. Then it comes back to you.

“Reid, what happened to Reid?” You gasp.

“He’s still in surgery,” JJ answers. Her tone tells you it’s bad.

“How long?”

“You’ve been here about 4 hours, Spencer’s been in surgery for 3,” Rossi informs you.

“Is he…” tears well in your eyes. He took a bullet for you. Both bullets should have hit you. Why would he do that?

“He’s in critical condition,” Rossi’s voice is filled with sorrow. The words are a blow to your abdomen, drawing all of the oxygen from your lungs.

“No,” you whisper and try to sit up. Guilt creeps its way in and claws its way down your spine.

“It’s not your fault, Y/N,” JJ reassures you. You shake your head.

The doctor enters and begins checking you out and encouraging you to rest. You argue that you can’t rest until you know your coworker is okay.

While the gesture was nice, whatever pain medicine he pushes into your IV sends you back into darkness before you can stop it.

The next time you wake, you feel more normal. As though waking up from regular sleep instead of from passing out in shock.

Sunlight filters through the massive glass windows which overlook the city. Your concept of time is non existent but at least you only have one IV in you now instead of three.

“You’re awake,” Garcia smiles and stands. Her usual bouncy optimism is missing in her words. She looks exhausted.

“Did he…” you don’t even know what to ask.

“He’s out of surgery. He’s critical but stabilized,” she answers in a hushed tone.

“I’m so sorry,” your voice cracks.

“Why are you apologizing? You were shit too,” she softens her voice and pushes your hair back from your face,

“That bullet should have hit me, I don’t know why he got in the way,” you sniffle.

“That bullet might have struck you in the head,” she raises her eyebrows like you’re being ridiculous. She was right though, your head is right at the same height as his neck.

“He couldn’t have known that,” you reason.

“No but he instinctively would have protected anybody on this team. He didn’t have to think about it,” she tries not to cry.

“I know,” you nod.

Just then Hotch and Prentiss enter the room, smiling to see you awake.

“Hey,” Prentiss hugs you gently.

“What are the doctors saying?” You ask anyone out loud.

“They’re hopeful you’ll only need to be monitored for another 24 hours,” Hotch informs.

“I meant about Reid,” you say.

“The bullet entered the front of his neck and lodged into his trachea. It was touch and go for a while but they were able to remove the bullet and reconstruct the damaged airway,” Hotch starts.

“He went into respiratory distress this morning and had to get intubated. He’s on a ventilator now. That’s why he’s still critical. He’s not breathing fully on his own and they’re trying to drain the blood and fluid from his lungs,” Garcia adds.

“I…” you lip quivers and tears start to fall. You’re horrified for him. “He must be so scared,” you whisper.

“He’s sedated, he doesn’t know what’s happening,” Prentiss says softly.

Of course he’s sedated, he wouldn’t be awake and intubated.

You’re about to say something when one of the ICU’s alarms begins to blare.

“Code blue, room 3489,” you startle and sit up as the three of them rush out of the room. Nurses and doctors take off down the hall.

“Wait!” You cry.

Code blue- someone is in respiratory or cardiac arrest. You want nothing more than to get out of the damned bed but you’re hooked up to an IV and an alarm.

Garcia nods and throws her hand over her mouth before darting back to you.

“It’s not him, it’s not Reid,” she huffs a relieved crying sort of laugh and hugs you.

You couldn’t do this, you couldn’t deal with losing someone on the team. It would destroy you.

You couldn’t imagine going to work and not competing with him to be the smartest in the room. It was annoying but god right now you missed it. You even missed his dad’s and his attitude and snarky remarks. You were so mad at him for taking that step in front of you. Yet you just wanted to be there at his bedside like the rest of the team.

“I want to see him,” you tell her.

“You will. You just have to focus on getting your strength back first,” she says. Garcia had a way of saying things that was so comforting.

The rest of that day was spent sleeping and getting a play by play of Reid’s progress.

The following morning you were up on your feet and able to walk around perfectly fine. Your arm was in a sling to prevent excess movement on your shoulder but for the most part you felt fine.

You were eager to go see Reid, though you weren’t sure why. The team had warned you that it wouldn’t be easy to see him hooked up to the breathing tube and other wires. You should be reluctant. But you just needed to show yourself that at the very least, he was still alive.

Stepping into his room was jarring and you froze in the doorway. His entire body was limp, his head flopped to the side, and his hair pulled from his face with a rubber band. He looked everything and nothing like himself.

He had drains and tubes coming out of his lungs and out of the hole in his throat, the tube down his throat forced his Adam’s apple to be protruded out, and you couldn’t count the amount of medication drips he was hooked up to.

His usual dark circles were deeper, more purple, his skin pale, and a feeding tube was inserted into his nose. You swallowed hard and took a slow step closer to him. He was always so animated and full of life, yapping constantly. To see him so motionless, so silent… it was devastating.

Morgan was sitting in the chair next to his bed, his head down next to Reid. He had fallen asleep. Reid was like his little brother, he hadn’t left his side. He was still wearing the same clothes from the night of the shooting.

You could see the breathing machine pumping, inflating his lungs for him. You could hear a low hum and what sounded like fluid in there. Occasionally it looked like he would cough or gag around the tube.

“It’s normal, his body isn’t used to there being a tube there,” the nurse informs you as she injects something into his IV line.

“Does it hurt?” You ask.

“He’s not aware of it if it does,” she gives you a sympathetic smile.

His fingers twitched momentarily but it was the only sign of movement.

You pull a chair up next to him and sit slowly. You can’t take your eyes off of him. You physically feel your heart break seeing him like this. Seeing any one of your team like this would devastate you. But Reid… you had a complicated but reluctantly understanding with. He was more like you than anyone else there. Seeing him often felt like looking in a mirror, seeing him hurt was too much.

“The machine is only doing 20% of the breathing for him. The fluid has reduced a lot. This is progress,” Hotch says somberly. You nod and wipe a tear.

You wished Reid could talk. He’d give you a million different probabilities of how this could play out along with a run down of what all of the equipment did. He’d be realistic but you had a feeling he’d give you hope. Maybe though, you just wanted to hear his voice.

You touch his hand, and trace his fingers delicately. You wished you could help him. Wished you could do something.

Garcia rubs Morgans back and gestures for him to follow her. The team leaves you to have a minute alone with him.

“Why did you take that step?” Is the first thing you say through tears. “That was so stupid,” you laugh. “You’re supposed to be the genius,” you breathe out another tear fueled laugh.

You wrap your hand over his and squeeze.

“This team needs you, please just keeping fighting Reid,” you implore him. “Your mom will be here tonight. It took some strings to pull but Garcia has her on a plane now.”

“I’m so mad at you. You brilliant asshole,” you can’t help but to smile.

And then, you don’t know why you do it. He would hate it surely, but you stand up and plant a soft kiss on his forehead.

“Your hair looks ridiculous by the way,” you whisper and push the baby hairs back.

You start to think that maybe if you hadn’t holstered your gun, Reid wouldn’t have felt the need to step in front of you to take the shot. That’s realization hits you like a ton of bricks and forces you to sit back down.

You were really starting to feel like it was your fault.

“I’m so sorry, Reid,” your voice cracks and you squeeze his hand a final time before leaving the room.

“Let’s get you home,” JJ says and grabs your uninjured arm.

Days passed, days passed and you didn’t want to leave your house. You listened to the doctors and primarily did bed rest, but you were ancy.

Spencer had been taken off of sedation last night and was becoming more lucid. You would get to see him tonight. Garcia says he’s improving quickly.

The last few days passed in a blur, the same way a hummingbird passes by a kitchen window. You rub your arms and sip your coffee. You don’t know how what you’re going to say to him.

Part of you still warred with guilt, with the way that technically you guys didn’t even like each other. Yet something had changed. Something gave way that night. You couldn’t explain it but you needed to talk to him. Maybe you needed to know whether or not he blamed you.

Did you make a bad call by holstering your gun?

You didn’t know. Hotch still hadn’t debriefed you or taken your statement of events.

Night falls and you step into Spencer’s hospital room hesitantly. You had been haunted by the state in which you saw him last time, the trauma of it all clawing at your heart.

To your surprise, his bed is propped up and there’s a book in his hand. You smile with delight at the way he can’t help but attempt to lean forward over the book like always.

“Wow,” you say. It’s remarkable how much better he looks. Still injured, still disheveled, but so much better.

He waves at you with that flat smile he favors.

“He can’t talk right now,” Morgan informs. “But he wrote down a list,” he holds up a stack of books.

“Of course Dr. Reid wakes up from a coma and wants to read Dostoevsky,” you smile.

He doesn’t return the sentiment but grabs what appears to be a white board and marker. He starts scribbling before holding it up to you.

“How are you?” It reads.

“Sore, but alive,” you want to say ‘thanks to you’ but you refrain. Instead you take a seat on the opposite side of the bed as Morgan.

“Well now that you’re here, I think I’m going to go home and rest,” Morgan sighs and stands.

“You’ve only been here a week,” you joke. “Get out of here, we’ll call you if anything changes.”

Spencer starts scribbling on his board again.

“I’m sorry,” it says in his signature hand writing.

“For what?” You ask softly and adjust in your chair to look in his bloodshot eyes.

“That you still got hit,” it says simply and he frowns.

“Don’t apologize! You saved my life,” you respond exasperatedly. “We almost lost you Spencer. You have nothing to be sorry for,” you don’t realize it but you start pacing. “I was so mad at you for stepping in front of me. That bullet should have been for me,” you gesture at him.

His eyebrows furrow and he starts shaking his head.

“No.” He writes on the board.

You sigh and sit back down when you see that his heart rate increases significantly on the monitor.

“Are you okay?” You redirect the conversation. He thinks for a moment and you find yourself wanting to touch his hair, to comfort him. It’s a new desire, an odd one.

“They haven’t explained what happened to me. I don’t remember,” he scribbles.

“Do you want me to tell you?” You ask and place your hand on his.

He looks down at where you touch him but nods.

You tell him everything from the moment you saw him bleeding to the surgery and the coma.

“But you’re out of the woods and making great strides to recovery,” you finish.

He presses his palm into his eye socket as though his head hurts before writing again.

“Thank you. I’m okay,” is all it says.

“You’re straining your eyes by reading,” you point out when he blinks as thought his head hurts.

He nods, aware of that fact.

“Here,” you take the book from him. He lets you and points out where he left off. You begin to read to him and he lays back in the bed with a deep breath.

“…He was so obsessed with what had happened to him that he was afraid to put it into words, lest he should lose it all at once, lest he should be left with nothing. He was so possessed by the idea that he was afraid to think of anything else; he wanted to forget everything else, to think of nothing, to do nothing, to feel nothing, so as not to lose what he had gained…” you trail off.

When you glance over at him he’s gripping his journal, the pen beside him, and he’s fallen asleep.

You dim the lights and take his journal from him. You glance only at what he had dozed off writing.

‘I was in the middle before I knew that I had begun.’

The quote takes you by surprise, mostly the familiarity of it. You can’t place where you’d read it before nor could you figure out why he was writing it.

Nonetheless you place the journal on the table beside him before moving to get comfortable in the recliner. You would sleep there tonight.

Sleep finds you slowly, the quote he sketched replaying in your mind. You’ll figure out where you read it tomorrow.

A/N: I just finished season 8, I had no idea until after writing this that Spence suffers a similar injury in season 9- oops.

#Spotify #mgg #spencer reid #criminal minds #mgg pics #dr reid #spencer reid one shots #spicy spencer reid #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid ai #spencer reid fanfiction

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