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#It's not working great but it's been enough!
pucksandpower · 2 days
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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
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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.
1K notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 2 days
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🔫 Oh, Captain, My Captain 🔫
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Pairing: Unit Chief!Spencer Reid x Fem BAU!Reader
For the CM Kink Bingo Challenge 2024
Requested: Unit Cheif!Spencer who uses gun training as an excuse to rub up on the new member🤭
Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI Gun kink, dubcon, dry humping, pictures/photos, age gap, Pervert! Spencer, unprotected sex, implied cream pie, semi-public sex, boss x employee dynamic, spanking, masturbation, slight cum play, degradation (slut, whore etc), praise kink if you squint (good girl).
A/N: This is my first entry for the CM Kink Bingo challenge 2024~! I chose a lot of the prompts based on some of the smut requests in my inbox and let my TELL you I was SO EXCITED to write Unit Chief + gun kink!!! I'm so excited for this entire challenge tbh, it reminds me of the good old days on past years' Kinktober 😂🥰
Masterlist || Bingo Board
When Spencer Reid was made the interim Unit Chief for the BAU, he agreed with the reasoning. At the time, he really couldn't argue that he was aptly experienced, responsible enough to make big decisions, and reliable. And whilst he had been through a lot in the last two decades with the FBI, he still did value his own sense of morality. 
He accepted the job and then was assigned you as an intern, and suddenly, he didn't agree with any previous assessment of him. 
Experienced, yes, but he was still stammering and rambling when discussing simple things like the weather. He certainly wasn't responsible enough to keep his eyes off you, and he probably couldn't be relied on in the field to focus instead of thinking about your pretty, plump lips and how they would feel wrapped around his cock. 
All morality had gone out of the window after a week of working with you when he closed his office blinds, popped his pants open and took his cock in hand, relieving himself while staring at your newly printed ID card. 
He had a lot of power, during the few months Emily was away, and he was trying desperately not to use it. 
Unfortunately, with great power comes a great amount of orders to give, and since you reported directly to Unit Chief Reid, you'd become his de facto shadow for the first few weeks. You bought him coffees when you got your own, asked him for quick run downs of past cases so you could take notes and remember relevant details for later, asked him for help writing reports. 
Which caused the blinds to be drawn at least once a day as he desperately tried to keep his hands off you. 
Emily had joked when leaving him behind that she'd usually give the new boss the “don't shit where you eat” speech, especially with people in your chain of command, but it really wasn't necessary with him. Of all people. 
It didn't help that you were so damn clumsy in the office. You were usually pretty calm and collected, but since starting at the BAU, the pressure was getting to you a bit. 
You made small mistakes, you double, and triple checked your work, and you were constantly in Spencer's office asking him for opinions on topics, for background information, and for, well, reassurance. 
And you dropped stuff. A lot of stuff. 
Your analytical Monday have been perfectly suited to the BAU, but somewhere between your head and your hands, all your body parts refused to function adeptly. You'd dropped things constantly, tripped on your own feet, and constantly bumped into people even while they stood still. 
Not to mention the time your dropped your (thankfully, iced) coffee all over Spencer's lap when you'd brought him his own. 
“Oh my- Oh my god, Doctor Reid, I am so so sorry,” you scrambled, immediately grabbing tissues as he jumped up from the desk. 
“Please let me help you, god, I'm so stupid, I'm so sorry-” you said, patting away as his lap as he stood frozen in front of you. You dropped to your knees to mop up the traces of coffee still running down his thighs, as he stammered. 
“Y/N, please, you don't need to, I have a spare pair I can-” 
“I'll have them dry cleaned, I promise,” you begged, just as a knock sounded and the door to his office swung back open for JJ to enter through. 
“Spencer, the files for the- woah! Okay, I'm not jumping to conclusions, but I'm still backing out of this room right now.” 
She laughed her way out of the room, which was when your brain finally caught up to your hands and realized the stupid position you'd put yourself in. 
You'd practically pushed your boss up against the wall, kneeled before him, and begged to touch him. 
You'd squeaked out an apology and quickly left the office, much to Spencer's relief, because even after an ice bath and semi-public humiliation, he was hard and horny and his IQ had been knocked to roughly 7. 
How he'd wanted to keep you pinned in place, to stroke your cheek as he made sure you took each inch of him down your throat slowly, filling you up so you couldn't escape. 
How he'd wanted to keep his job as well, something he'd probably not get to do if JJ had decided to walk back in, or - god forbid - bring other witnesses to his debauchery. 
You were clumsy, and he was desperately horny, and you were both complete and total messes.
“I don't see how I can help you, Y/N,” Tara held up her hands in defeat as you begged for her help. 
“I'm competent with a gun, but it's not something I can teach you. I wouldn't know where to start.” 
“I just need someone to show me how to hold it properly. There's a trick to it, right? There has to be a trick to it?” 
“Ah yes, the old aim and shoot trick, I forgot about that one,” Rossi laughed, shaking his head at your office antics. 
You'd been interning for a few weeks, and the latest in a line of ability tests was shooting. You'd pretty much aced the physical fitness test, but you'd never even held a gun before joining the FBI, and you were struggling. 
“I've put in 10 hours at the shooting range in the last week, and the closest I've got to an accurate shot was hitting the next lane's paper. Don't ask.”
Your coworkers shared a sympathetic look as you sat down at the round table, ready to hear the next case details. 
“I'm relegated to office work until I pass this certificate, and I was not made for sitting at a desk for 7 hours.” 
“Well, why don't you ask Reid for help?” JJ said helpfully, bringing her coffee to her lips to hide the meddling smile plastered there. 
“Reid?” 
“He had some issues shooting when he was a rookie as well, but he put in some hours at the range, and now he's the best shot on the team.” 
“Easy there, blondie, I'm nothing to sniff at with a gun myself,” Rossi smiled, patting himself on the back. 
“I'm sure he'd enjoy helping you,” JJ continued. 
“Who would enjoy what?” Spencer said, finally joining the team in the meeting room and pulling out the case files as everyone opened up their tablets. 
“Y/N was just saying she's having some trouble shooting, and I suggested she ask for your help?” 
He froze momentarily and stared down at you as you looked up at him, hopefully, a shy smile on your face. 
He tried to keep his eyes on yours, but from this height, he had the perfect view down your shirt, your perfect-sized breasts pressing together as you leaned towards him, giving him a generous eyeful. 
He looked away quickly and nodded his agreement, sitting himself down and attaching his eyes to the files instead so he could get his mind off of  your body, and your lips, and the begging that surely would've come out of your mouth had he not accepted earlier. His brain was tormenting him with images of you underneath him, under his desk even, his cock in your mouth as you paid for his precious time training you. He blinked away the thoughts and, for once in his life, actually had to put effort into reading and understanding each word on a page as he ignored the raging fire of his lust. 
A few hours later, the two of you were at the shooting range. 
“My main problem is shooting. The instructors said my form isn't great either and that I looked like a child playing with toys whenever I hold a gun, so if you could help with that…?” You said, putting on the goggles and turning back to look at your boss. 
“Doctor Reid?” You asked. 
“Oh, yeah. Yes, they said something similar when I was training. First, let's see what you can do.” 
You smiled at him as he watched you bounce up to the lane and pick up the gun. You calmed your breathing and got ready to take the safety off when you felt a hard hand clamp over your own and pull the gun from your hand. 
“What are you doing?” He asked, staring down at you with wide eyes. 
“You said to show you-”
“You're not wearing a vest.” 
You cursed quickly as he pulled you back over to the side of the room. The place was practically deserted, as it was past the official closing hours of the range, but Spencer had been forced to pull some strings with his new title and had managed to keep it open (and somehow unmanned) until now. 
He quickly grabbed the first vest he saw and pulled it over your head, taking the side straps and tightening them until the vest was comfortably protecting all your major organs. His hands lingered for a second, and you stared shocked up at him, somehow enjoying the way he pushed you around. 
You were a grown woman, and you could do this all by yourself, but there was something about a man roughly a decade and a half older than you controlling your movements that were entirely too dangerous. You quickly stepped away and back to the podium, whispering a quick thanks under your breath as you tried to ignore the heat pooling between your legs. 
You stretched out your neck a little as you felt him walk back behind you again, keeping his distance as he watched you shoot your first clip at the targets. 
Out of six bullets, you'd missed the target five times and had grazed just below the targets arm once, a brilliant display of your natural lack of talent. 
“Your form is wrong. You're holding yourself too rigid, which means the recoil has a higher chance to hurt you. Loosen your arms slightly.”
His advice was actually good  and you followed his instructions closely, listening clearly as he walked you through each tip. 
“Like this?” 
“A little more… here, let me.” 
You had no chance to react before his body was pressed behind yours and his hands were wrapped around your own, moving g each finger by a fraction to improve your grip, trailing up your arms slowly, leaving a field of goosebumps wherever his fingers grazed. He repositioned your elbows before moving forward his hands down to your hips, turning them slightly as he widened your stance. 
“Try now.” 
Breathless, you could only nod as he stepped back, unaware if he'd even said anything since his hands had landed on you. 
You forced yourself to breathe again and took one shot.
"Oh my god, it hit. Spencer, it hit!” 
“Do it again and we can celebrate.” 
Another five shots later, and you'd managed a small cluster of hits around the arms and one shot. 
“You're definitely veering left, so let's try and over correct by aiming to the right.”
He pushed up against you again and held the gun, moving it to the right a fraction, taking complete control of your body. 
If your breath was scarce before, it was totally gone now as you felt his crotch press up against your ass. Considering the bulletproof vests put an extra inch around your chests, he was absolutely doing it on purpose, and you were shocked to realize you were too. 
You'd pushed your ass back into him, grinding slowly on his hardening cock as he hooked his head over your shoulder, looked down the sight with you, and fired the gun. 
Straight into the center of the target. 
“Good girl,” he whispered before pulling away.  
He moved two meters away from you, and maintained the distance for the rest of the night, and even though you were both aware of his hard cock tightening his pants, neither of you said a word. 
“Same time tomorrow,” he said and grabbed his jacket to leave. It was the first thing he'd said as your Unit Chief that even vaguely sounded like a command and not an enthusiastic suggestion, and you were suddenly very excited for the rest of the week. 
“Before we start,” he said the next day, unbuttoning his shirt sleeves and rolling them up to his elbows neatly. “Show me your posture again.” 
He gestured towards one of the dummy guns at the side of the range, the style you recognised from mission training that held small layers instead of bullets - same weight, same mechanism, no lethality. 
You'd spent the day and night worked up from the last time you'd been here with him, and a small part of you felt disappointed you were starting with the kiddy gun. Not one to miss an opportunity, though. You bent over to pick it up, making sure to bend at the waist right in front of him to show off your ass. 
Maybe you'd gone crazy, but the memory of his touch was burning you from the inside out and you needed to feel it again to make sure you weren't crazy. 
He maintained his distance, though. It was hard for him to keep his hands off you in all honesty, arms crossed to keep himself from crossing any more lines. That and he was sure that you'd be able to tell he'd spurted cum all over them in his office the night before despite him scrubbing them thoroughly multiple times, the weight of his guilt eating into him like a parasite.
“Arms up, point straight. Good.” You tried to keep still as he assessed your form, but his eyes prowled over you thoroughly, and you had to suppress a shudder. 
“You need to control your breathing, Y/N, you can't be afraid of pulling the trigger if you need to.” 
“I'm not-” 
“Shoulders back,” he said, moving to your side as he again began slightly correcting your form. 
Unlike the day before, though, this time, there were no bullets. And no bullets meant no bulletproof vest. 
That's why when his exploring hands came to your chest, he could feel your hardening nipples through the flimsy material of your dress. He could feel you pressing forward into his touch as his hands cupped your breast.
“Calm your heartbeat, Y/N. You need to stay calm so you can shoot straight, right?” 
The words sounded alien, even to him. His gaze was locked on the top of your shirt, looking down it to the slope of your chest, disappearing into your dress. He so wanted to let his hands disappear right along with them, to pull you back into his aching cock and play with your nipples until you cried out for mercy. 
He let his touch fall and played off his molestation as correction, even as your underwear grew slick with desire. 
“Grab your vest. Let's try again.” 
A week of late night training later, and you weren't sure if you were improving at all. The guns were the last thing on your mind when Spencer's hands were on you, his voice in your ear telling you how good you were for him, such a good subordinate. 
Both of you had yet to acknowledge that you were spending the majority of the session just rubbing up on each other, like teens at prom, desperate for whatever friction you could get without having to name the game you were playing. 
“Doctor Reid, if I hit the target this time, can you do something for me?” You chanced on the Friday, needing something else to tide you over for the weekend. 
“What do you need?” 
“No, no, nothing specific, just like a…a reward?"
He'd done his best to keep his hands off of you, which meant that he'd failed miserably, and he knew exactly what he'd like to treat you to as a reward. Keeping his hands of you in daytime hours had become harder and harder as the week flew by, and he felt like a randy school boy the amount of times he'd needed to excuse himself to either kill his bones or abuse his cock with his hand.
“Oh,” he said, growing quiet. You took his hesitation for rejection, and immediately began to back pedal. 
“Y-You don't have to, sir. It was really quite conceited on my part to demand a reward from y-” 
“Okay.” 
“Okay?” 
“If you shoot six bullets that hit either the chest or the head, you'll get a reward.”
You smiled brightly at him, suddenly feeling very hopeful. 
“But if you miss, you'll get the opposite.” 
The words were out of his mouth before he could even think about what they meant. Just hearing the words made him want to visibly cringe and write himself up for office misconduct. But your smile didn't fade one bit. 
“Yes, sir. I won't let you down.” 
Turning away from him, you loaded your weapon again, and he watched you put yourself into the correct position. Despite his middling efforts to actually teach you, you had seemed to have improved over the last few days. 
He wasn't sure if he wanted that outcome. 
Just as you stepped up to take your first shot, he stepped closer to you, wrapped his hands around your waist, and pushed up against you. 
Your first shot veered left, completely missing the target as you gasped. Spencer had popped open the front button of your pants and was unzipping them, letting his hand wonder down to your panties. 
“Look straight. There will be distractions out in the field, you can do this, right?” 
“Y-Yes, sir.” 
“Good girl.” 
You tried to steady your breathing g and your hands again as he began rubbing slow circles into your underwear, your body alight with lust as you let him. 
Your second shot hit the paper. Your third didn't. 
“You can do better than that, Y/N.” 
You took another deep breath and picked up your gun again, shooting just as he shoved your underwear to one side and dipped his fingers into you. 
Your mouth opened in a silent moan as you quickly shot your last three bullets, not caring where they went so much as where his fingers went. 
“Y/N, I expected better,” you could hear the smile in his voice as he took the gun from your hands with his spare. “You can't even handle a weapon like this.” 
He kept his fingers pumping shallowly inside you, as he inspected the gun again. 
“Maybe you'd learn better under duress. I did, too. It's easy to learn when there's a gun pointed yo your head, right?” 
He quickly turned the gun on you  pushing it to your temple as his other hand shoved your pants down. He angled you forward with a press of his hips as his fingers returned to your cunt and slipped deeper inside. 
“S-Spencer, fuck-” 
“You missed all six bullets, so punishment it is.” His fingers gained speed as you stood, flushed and spreading your legs for him. You wanted to bury your head in your arms and scream out your moans, but the gun to your head kept you quiet and in place. 
“You may not be able to shoot a gun, Y/N, but that doesn't mean you're not enjoying them. You're so wet for me.” 
Tears sprung to your eyes as you felt your climax build and build, chasing the high you'd been searching for with every unprotected touch. 
You were letting your boss touch you, letting a man almost old enough to be your father hold a gun to your head, and you were going to squirt all over his fingers very soon. 
“Spencer, Spencer, please- please….”
“Shhh, it’s okay. There's nothing to be embarrassed about. You just needed some more help learning. You can cum now, princess. It's okay, let go.” 
You tried your best to hold back, but your body had a mind of its own as your orgasm hit you, the cold metal of the gun finally moving away from your head. 
With one hand around your waist, pinning you to the side so you stayed upright, Spencer carefully placed the gun back down before dragging your pants back up your legs. 
Taking your elbow in his hand, he walked you to the door as you blinked out the daze in your eyes. 
“We're going to my office now. To talk about your recent performance.” 
You couldn't have cared less what he'd said as long as his hands were on you, stretching your head back so it rested on his chest and pushing up until your lips could connect with the bare skin at his neck. 
“Hands off. We're going to walk all the way back to my office, and you're not going to let anyone know what just happened, okay? Not with your words, or your expressions or body language, okay?” 
You nodded, but he kept a hand on your elbow, gesturing yourself forward. 
You weren't sure how you were even able to walk after what had to have been the most intense orgasm of your life, but the promise of more likely carried you all the way up the stairs until you were comfortably enclosed in Spencer's  office. 
Like he'd found himself doing multiple times a day this month, Spencer closed the blinds, pulling you down to the sofa with him as he sat. 
“When I was your age,” he started, making sure your ass was facing up as he pushed your head into the cushions gently. 
“When I was your age, I couldn't shoot well. My Unit Chief had to kick some sense into me. I think you need that as well, right, Y/N? You need someone to beat some sense into you?” 
You nodded as he stroked your hair, and he thanked you for being so open to him. 
He made quick work of your pants and underwear, and in a quick hot burst, his hand came down on your ass. 
“Fuck, more. Please more!” 
He did it again and again as you squirmed in his lap and moaned, begging him to keep brutalizing you. 
“That's it, show me how pathetic you are, show me how much you're craving my attention.” 
He pushed your legs off of his lap until you were kneeling on the floor underneath him. He pulled up your arms and pulled your shirt over your head, similarly discarding your tank top and bra until you were totally bare on the floor in front of him. 
Instead of stripping himself yet, he pulled out his phone, palming himself through his pants. 
“Show yourself off,” he said, pointing the camera at you. 
You followed his directions quickly, hands flying to your tits to fondle them while he took pictures of your fucked our face. 
With his foot he gently nudged you down onto all yours, letting you know to turn around so he could flash a picture or two of your sloppy cunt as well. 
Your hips rocked back and forth in the air, unconsciously searching for something to rub against, some relief from your frustrations. 
He kept snapping pictures. 
Deciding that you needed his attention and stat, you let your chest fall to the floor, face flat too as your hips lifted higher in the air. Your hands found your ass cheeks, and you spread them slightly, giving Spencer an even better view of how much you needed him. 
He took one last photo, and then he knelt behind you faster than you could expect. 
In a heartbeat, his pants were down, in two his cock was buried deep inside of you. 
“So…tight, shit. You're such a precious little slut, you kept this little pussy nice and fresh just for me, right?” 
It was all you could do not to cum right there, and when he started moving you were a goner. It had always been easier for you to cum a second time than it was for you to cum a first time, and considering how quick he'd made it happen earlier, you really should've been expecting it. 
Your body convulsed around his cock as you screamed into the floor, hands still spreading yourself wide for him as he rutted into you. 
“That's it, milk my cock, Y/N. Milk your bosses cock, let me blow my load inside you.” 
Your nipples rubbed painfully against the carpet, only adding to the storm of stimulation you were experiencing. 
His hips faltered as he collapsed over your body, holding tight as his muscles locked him into place with his orgasm. He came inside you with a grunt, and he felt your cunt still clenching around him, making sure to take every last drop. 
“That- was much - preferable,” you said, gasping for breath. “To shooting - any gun.” 
He rolled off of you as you laughed, body satiated now for the first time in what felt like forever. 
“You still need to work on your gun skills,” he said after you'd detangled yourself, but before either if you had worked up the courage to leave the floor and get dressed. 
“Why?” You said, turning your head to look at him  lying on the floor next to you. 
“It seems I can fire pretty accurately already,” you said, as your hand snaked down to his cock one more time. 
780 notes · View notes
minswriting · 2 days
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Our Little Secret - Aaron Hotchner x Reader
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About: You had always been attracted to your new step father since the day your mom brought him home. He was an attractive older man. He treated your mother well, despite not being home enough. But that didn’t matter too much since your mother was rarely home either. You knew that you shouldn’t feel some sort of way about your step-father. But what happens when he comes home from a rough case and seems to want you too?
Warnings: Step-daughter/step-father dynamic, NSFW, MDNI, 18+ content, dom/sub dynamics, daddy kink, unprotected sex, rough sex, praise kink, dirty talk, hair pulling, etc.
Word Count: 3200
Note: This may suck a bit but i hope you all enjoy!
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Your relationship with your mother wasn’t the greatest, truthfully. Your mother left your father when you were ten years old, leaving him alone to work full time and take care of his daughter. But when he passed away when you were fifteen, about eight years ago, due to cancer, your mother had taken you in because you had nowhere else to go. While she wasn’t abusive, the two of you fought quite often as you held a lot of resentment against her for leaving you and your father. And now, you were twenty-three, still living with your mother as you went through college because it was the easiest thing to do.
When you first laid eyes on Aaron Hotchner, it was a year after his wife had passed away. He had met your mother and the two had gotten engaged rather quickly, exclaiming that the two of them didn’t want to wait when they didn’t have to. They were both adults interested in one another. And Aaron was just glad that Jack had taken a liking to you almost immediately.
You had always been attracted to Aaron. He was an attractive man. He was a great father to Jack, looked amazing in a suit, he was kind and respectful. Not to mention the authoritative voice he took when he answered his work calls never failed to cause you to clench your thighs. It’s wrong of you to be attracted to your step-father. It’s taboo. And yet you couldn’t help it. You had spent many nights fingering yourself to the thought of your step-father fucking you so ridiculously good.
It was a Friday night. Jack was at a sleepover with one of his friends, your mom was on a work trip as she works as a traveling sales representative, and Aaron was on a case in New York, leaving you home alone for the night. You had just gotten out of the shower, dressed in a pair of shorts and t-shirt and went downstairs to do your college coursework on your laptop.
As you worked on an essay for your psychology class, you heard keys turning in the front door, signaling that someone was home. You looked up from your computer as you were sitting on the couch to see Aaron walking in looking exhausted and stressed. “Hey,” you greeted softly.
Aaron looked over at the couch, giving you a small smile. “Hey,” he greeted back, placing his bag down before walking over to the couch and sitting down next to you. “How’s everything going?” he asked, getting himself comfortable. His legs were spread, his knee touching yours unintentionally. But you made no effort to move away.
“Everything is good,” You replied, closing your laptop and placing it onto the coffee table. “Jack is at Pete’s house for the night. His mom will be taking him home in the morning. Mom’s still on her work trip for another week. And I was just working on an essay.” You took a deep breath, looking at Aaron. “How was the case?”
Aaron sighed, running a hand over his face. “It was certainly…something,” he said exhaustedly. “It was truthfully a rough one. It involves kids and those are always so hard.” You nodded in understanding, not really sure of what else to say. “How come you’re not out on a Friday night?” Aaron asked, looking at you with a curious look.
“Didn’t really feel like it,” you replied, shrugging your shoulders. “My boyfriend asked me to go out but…I just didn’t feel like seeing him tonight.”
“Did something happen?” Aaron asked.
“Just a dumb argument a few days ago,” you said, rolling your eyes. “Nothing important.”
Aaron hummed in acknowledgement. “Do you even love him?” he asked.
You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion about the question. “What?” you asked, looking at your step father.
Aaron looked at you expectedly. “Do you even love him?” he asked again. “You are in this relationship and yet your body language shows that you’re not that interested in him.”
“Is that really any of your business?” you asked defensively.
“It is when your attention seems to be on me,” Aaron replied smoothly. He adjusted himself so that he was closer to you ever so slightly. His arm was draped on the top of the couch.
Your cheeks became hot as you looked at your step-father, unsure of what to say or what to do. “I-I have no idea what you mean,” you exclaimed, very clearly a lie though you didn’t want to admit that.
“Oh but I think I do,” Aaron said, quirking his lip. “I see the way you look at me, y/n. With those beautiful eyes, you look at me with longing, desire, and admiration. As though I am the thing you need and want most.” Aaron’s tone was soft but knowing. He was a profiler. He could likely tell you things about yourself that even you didn’t know.
“What about it?” You whispered, your attention focused on him completely. Your heart raced with anxiety. You weren’t quite sure what to do. Aaron’s words were true. You had desired him since the day you laid eyes on him. But it wasn’t right. It was taboo. Which is why you never thought that Aaron would ever feel the same or even acknowledge your thoughts.
Aaron’s arm moved to your shoulders, bringing you closer to him. His other hand went to your chin, tilting your head to look at him. “I look at you the same way,” he murmured, his hot breath fanning your cheek.
Hearing these words made your heart flutter and heat pool near your thighs. Your mother and step-fathers relationship had been a bit strained from the beginning. They sort of rushed into it, only caring about the fact that they didn’t need to worry about one another too much since neither one of them were home that much. The rare times they were both home, they acted like a perfect couple for a few days until reality settles in and they’re stuck with one another. But you never thought that Aaron would ever feel a type of way about you.
Without any other words spoken, Aaron softly placed his lips onto yours. It took you a moment to process what was truly happening. Your step-dad was kissing you. Something you’ve longed for quite a while was finally happening. And after a few moments of shock, you kissed Aaron back. For what started off as soft and innocent quickly turned hot and heated as Aaron’s hand began to roam your body. You found yourself moving onto his lap, sitting on top of him as you cupped his face. One of his hands landed on your hip while the other entangled in your hair.
You felt heat going straight to your core, dampening your panties. You couldn’t help but crave friction. While kissing Aaron, you tentatively moved your hips against his, grinding your cunt onto his clothed bulge. The both of you let out soft moans of pleasure, Aaron’s fingers digging into your hip. He pulled away from the kiss to look up at you, placing his other hand on your other hip. “Can you feel just how much I want you?” he asked in that same soft tone as before as he grinded you on his cock again.
You let out a soft moan, nodding your head. “Yes,” you replied. “Take me to bed?” you asked, biting your lip.
“Of course, princess,” Aaron replied. He moved you off of him to stand up before picking you up bridal style and carrying you up the stairs. You held on by wrapping your arms around his neck. He brought you to his bedroom, the one he shared with your mother, placing you on the edge of his side of the bed. He leaned down, still standing as you were sitting, and placed his lips on yours once more.
One of his hands roamed your body, landing on your right boob as he massaged the skin through your shirt. You gasped into the kiss, the sensation sending sparkes to your cunt. Aaron pulled away from the kiss, moving to grab the hem of your shirt before pulling it off of you, revealing your flesh to him. You hadn’t worn a bra after getting out of the shower as you didn’t expect anyone to be home tonight.
“You’re so beautiful,” Aaron said, moving a piece of your hair out of your face before leaning back down to kiss you. His hand massaged your skin, rolling your nipple around with his thumb. You let out a moan into Aaron’s mouth, unable to help yourself from making the noise.
After a few minutes of massaging both of your breasts, Aaron’s fingers trailed lower, reaching the waistline of your shorts. He pulled away from the kiss, looking at you with a serious face. “If you want me to stop, now would be the time to do so,” He exclaimed.
“Please don’t stop,” you responded, looking up at Aaron with a lustful gaze. “I-I need you so bad,” you admitted, blushing in slight embarrassment.
“Good girl,” Aaron replied, moving his fingers underneath the waistband of your shorts and panties. His praise caused you to let out a whimper. “You like being called that, don’t you?”
You nodded your head in response.
Aaron simply hummed in acknowledgement, running a finger down your slit to feel your wetness. “God, you’re soaked,” he whispered in awe. “All for me, princess?”
“Yes, daddy,” you whispered back, the name just falling out of your mouth without any thought.
You hadn't even realized you said it until Aaron let out a groan. “Fuck,” he said, closing his eyes for a moment. Those two words sent a jolt of heat straight to his cock as he processed what you had said. “I’ll give you anything you want, darling. You’re being such a good girl for me.” And with that, he began to rub your clit.
You let out a low moan, your eyes fluttering shut as you did so. Aaron moved himself so that he was sat behind you, his hand still on your clit while your back was pressed against his chest. He wrapped his other arm around you, leaning in to kiss your neck. His finger went from your clit to your hole, spreading your wetness around before easing a finger inside of you. You whined at the feeling, letting out a soft “daddy,” in pleasure.
“I’ve got you, baby,” he said into your skin. He began moving his finger slowly inside of you, teasing your pussy. Your soft moans were like music to Aaron’s ears as he played with your cunt. He eventually added a second finger, stretching you out slightly as he quickened his pace. He hooked his fingers, hitting your g-spot and causing you to jolt and arch your back.
“O-oh fuck,” you moaned, placing a hand on Aaron’s thigh. “Oh my god.”
If you had asked yourself earlier in the day if your step-father would be finger fucking you right now, you likely would’ve laughed. But here you are, getting finger fucked by the man you’ve only thought about, never thinking it would actually happen. The room was filled with the sounds of your wet cunt as Aaron sped up his fingers. You were writhing in his arms, your head rested on his shoulder.
“You’re so wet for me,” he murmured into your ear, his hot breath on your skin. “I’ve dreamt about doing this,” he began to speak. “Every time I come home from a case and you’re just sitting there in your pajamas, focused on your coursework, looking so beautiful.” Aaron’s other hand moved to your left boob, massaging the skin. “When you’d stretch and let out a small moan, it never failed to make me want to bend you over and take you right then and there.”
You whined in response, his words, the added pleasure, the repeated movements of his fingers inside of you, it was all so much. You felt that familiar heat building in your abdomen as your orgasm slowly approached. “Don’t even get me started on that vacation we took a few months ago,” Aaron continued. “That skimpy bathing suit that barely hid anything when we went to the beach,” His voice was very attractive and soft as he spoke. “Couldn’t help but touch myself that night in the shower to the thought of you while your mother was just in the other room.”
“Daddy,” you moaned, your breathing becoming heavy and shaky. “I’m so close.”
“Come for me, baby,” Aaron replied, moving his digits inside of you faster. “You’re doing so good.”
Your walls clenched around Aaron’s fingers as your orgasm came over you. Your thighs clamped together as you arched your back against Aaron, whining and moaning as you came. Aaron fingered you through your orgasm, coaxing you through it. And when you finally came down from your high, Aaron gave you soft kisses along your skin, calming you down.
“Daddy,” you sighed, leaning into his touch. “Need your cock,” you turned your head to look at Aaron, leaning your head on his shoulder.
“And you’ll get it, baby,” Aaron hummed, turning his face to kiss you on the lips. He let go of you, standing up from his spot behind you. “Take your shorts off for me.” He said as he began unbuttoning his shirt. You obliged, pulling down your shorts and tossing them to the side, leaving you fully nude. You bit your lip, looking up at Aaron with doe eyes.
Aaron tossed his shirt to the side before moving to unbuckle his pants. He tossed his belt to the side, unzipping his pants and pulling them down along with his boxer briefs. You let out a small whimper as Aaron’s cock sprang out. He was about seven inches but he was quite girthy, definitely bigger than your previous partners. “You’re so big,” you whispered, looking at his cock.
Your words caused Aaron to chuckle. “Am I?” he asked, quirking an eyebrow in amusement. “Glad you think so, princess.” He walked back over to the bed as he kicked his pants away. “Lay on your side for me.”
You nodded your head, laying down on your side, your head on the pillows. Aaron moved your leg, holding it up slightly as he kneeled on the mattress, straddling your other leg. He rested your leg on his thigh, grabbing his cock and guiding it to your pussy. He brought the tip to your clit before moving it down, spreading your wetness onto his cock. You let out a shaky breath, gripping the sheets. His cock moved to your hole, slowly probing at your entrance. You moaned at the intrusion, feeling the stretch in your cunt. Aaron hissed in pleasure as your walls enclosed around his member.
Tears formed in your eyes at the sting. Aaron leaned down to kiss your temple, whispering sweet nothings in your ear to relax you. When Aaron bottomed out, he stayed there for a moment, letting you adjust to his size. After a few minutes, the pain subsided. “Y-you can move,” you said.
Aaron began to slowly thrust, moving his hips out before moving back inside of you. The both of you let out moans as he settled into a slow rhythm. “You’re so fucking tight, princess,” Aaron groaned.
“So big, daddy,” you whined, burying your head into the pillow. Aaron’s cock filled you up so good, hitting in spots you had never felt before. “Never been so full.”
Aaron moaned softly, leaning down to capture your lips with his as he thrusted his hips. His cock grazed your g-spot, going deeper inside of you, causing you to let out a choked moan. “O-oh fuck,” you moaned against Aaron’s lips. “F-faster, please.”
And he obliged. He moved his hips at a faster pace, putting a hand in your hair and tugging at the strands. You started to moan louder, your eyes fluttering shut as Aaron’s cock plunged in and out of you. “You’re so perfect,” Aaron exclaimed, breathing heavily. “Being such a good girl for me.” Aaron started thrusting into you harshly, causing your walls to clench around his cock. “Mine,” he said, leaning down to nip at your neck.
“All yours, daddy,” you whined. “Always yours.” The moans leaving your mouth were whorish as his cock hit your sweet spot repeatedly, making you see stars. You turned your head to bury it in the pillows.
That was until Aaron gripped your hair, yanking your head back a bit. “Look at me while I fuck you,” he said, his voice rough and filled with desire. You obeyed, turning your head to look up at Aaron with your beautiful eyes. His brown orbs were on you as he fucked you, his pace almost brutual.
The sensation of his cock pounding into you made tears of pleasure well up in your eyes, making you let out a sob. “Daddy,” you sobbed in pleasure. “it’s too much, too much.” you babbled.
Aaron cooed, running a soothing hand through your hair. “You can take it,” he replied, not relenting up. “Be a good girl and take it.” Aaron groaned.
The repeated assault onto your g-spot made your abdomen tighten as you felt your orgasm approaching. “So close,” you whimpered.
“Me too, baby, me too.”
And with just a few thrusts, you were clenching around Aaron’s cock, cumming for the second time that night. Aaron hissed in pleasure, letting out a moan as he followed suit, cumming inside of your cunt. You babbled as you came, letting out a mantra of “oh my gods” and “daddy” as Aaron moaned out sweet nothings.
When you both finished, the both of you were breathing heavily, Aaron still inside of you. He kissed your cheek. “You did so good,” he murmured.
As you came down from your high, Aaron pulled out, laying down next to you. He wrapped an arm around you, putting his other arm underneath your head and pulling you close to him. You turned towards him, laying your head on his chest. The both of you were silent, not saying a word as you processed what had happened. Your step father just fucked you into oblivion.
So what happens now?
“What does this mean for us?” You murmured softly, glancing up at Aaron’s face.
Aaron gave you a small smile, moving a piece of hair out of your face. “Well, we can continue as we were and pretend as though this didn’t happen,” he murmured back. “Or we can keep this a secret and explore what this is.”
“Our little secret?” You asked.
“Our little secret, princess.”
And so, that’s what it was. Your own little secret with your step-father. And thus your intimate relationship began.
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vettelsvee · 2 days
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YOU'RE JALEOUS | Charles Leclerc
f1 masterlist | wattpad | ao3 | instagram
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charles leclerc x reader
summary: charles gets jaleous of lando when he sees him talking with his girlfriend 
wordcount: 1529
a/n: it's been a long time coming but i'm finally here! i've actually had this saved on my drafts for quite a long time BUT never posted it. however, since we got charles pole today, i thought you might like this even tough is a crap (i'm so sorry, you absolutely deserve better works) :)
you can send your one shots requests here or via anon! feedback, as well as comments and reblogs, are truly appreciated!
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Charles and you decided to attend a party they had been invited by someone the driver didn’t even know, that took place at one of the most famous venues in Monaco. Although you initially felt intimidated because none of Leclerc's colleagues had appeared yet, as you drank a few drinks, the music seemed interesting enough for you to dance along with the twinkling lights.
To say that Leclerc was happy with his performance on the track that afternoon would be a li. His pride was immense because he had finally achieved the victory: winning not only for the first time in 2024 season, but also winning his very own home race for the first time ever. This had led to great acclaim not only from his fans but also from specialists, the press, the team, and even his colleagues, who were eagerly awaiting il predestinato's return to the victories.
In those moments, with his shiny black suit highlighting his appearance and, especially, his trained body, he felt unique, and even more so with you by his side. You were matching your partner perfectly with the dazzling dress you were wearing and that fit you perfectly.
As you enjoyed a drink in a quiet corner after a long time on the dance floor, Leclerc wrapped his arm around your waist, intending to bring you closer to his side. Your eyes met, somewhat mischievous, leading to a playful smile forming on your lips.
"Charles, you’ve been incredible in today's race," you exclaimed with excitement, proudly praising your boyfriend's talent. "I'm so proud of you."
Charles returned your smile, feeling filled with joy by your unconditional support.
"Thank you, darling. But what I'm proud of, and also lucky for, is having you in my life," he responded tenderly.
You continued chatting animatedly without an apparent topic of conversation, ranging from what would be your next holiday destination to the upcoming race, which would take place in Canada. However, when you started talking about a charity event that Charles would have the opportunity to lead, your gazes turned to a familiar figure approaching you: Lando Norris.
"Hey, Charles! Congratulations on that first place!" Norris exclaimed, excited to see his friend.
"Thanks, Lando!" the mentioned replied enthusiastically, patting the McLaren driver on the back. "You did great too. A sixth place is not what I expected from those cars, but it was truly impressive taking into account the strategy they had for you."
"Stop talking about McLaren when you know we can talk about Ferrari," Norris joked.
You observed the interaction between the two drivers with a mix of pride and curiosity. At first, you decide to give space to both guys, letting them freely discuss the day's events without the attentive gaze of a girl. However, when you finished checking your social media and posted a few Instagram stories with photos you took that morning, you decided to join the conversation.
"Lando, have you forgotten about me?" you teased. "I'm still in shock from today's race. It was a real spectacle."
"Thanks, Y/N!" He stopped looking at you and instead turned to his friend. "What do you think if we celebrate our incredible, but true, achievements together now? No one else is coming, and I talked to Carlos earlier!"
You looked at Charles, seeking his approval. He, a bit tipsy, nodded with a smile.
"I had other plans in mind but I think we can actually postpone them. Right, Y/N?"
With such a declaration, you three headed to the dance floor, not without first ordering something to drink to accompany you in your enjoyment full of laughter, excitement and dance moves that were surely the ones from someone who’s had enough drinks for a day.
As you moved to the rhythm of the music, Charles noticed you stepping away from his side to join some members of the Ferrari team. He decided to follow you, ready to talk to his coworkers. To his surprise, you were chatting animatedly, in the midst of the crowd, with Lando, who had excused himself to go to the bathroom minutes before.
Jealousy and anger coursed through his body in a shiver. The Monegasque felt an urgent need to intervene and mark his territory. As much as he knew you didn't depend on him, and you were both completely independent individuals sometimes, moments like this were the ones where he felt a hint of insecurity about those who, apparently, dared, even minimally, to intrude on your relationship.
Forgetting his discretion and good judgment, Charles rushed towards you and the Brit, his eyes filled with determination and a threatening look on his face, ignoring the insults he had received from those drunkards he had punched.
"What's going on here?" he demanded to know in an authoritative and tense tone.
You and Lando turned, surprised, at Charles's intrusion. You looked at him, confused by the jealousy in your boyfriend's face. You were simply discussing with Norris the idea for a special party in Monaco the following week, just before the next Gran Prix, in honor of Charles’ recent victory.
"Love, you're misinterpreting things," you said, trying to stay calm. "We were just talking as friends," you emphasized the last word.
Leclerc clenched his fists in an attempt to control his anger.
"I don't want you to keep talking to him," he communicated harshly, surprising you greatly.
Lando intervened, trying to alleviate the tension and, especially, to calm his friend's apparent sadness:
"Dude, you have no reason to make a scene in front of everyone over an insignificant bout of jealousy. We're just having a friendly conversation about something for next week, okay?"
Leclerc's expression became even tenser, and his eyes narrowed as he noticed the symbiosis that you, his girlfriend, and Lando, his friend and opponent, seemed to have in hiding something.
"I wouldn't want to ask you again, so... What were you talking about?" Charles inquired in an even sharper tone.
Feeling you boyfriend's murderous gaze, you tried your best not to burst into tears over something as stupid as Charles's insecurity.
"Seriously, believe us," Lando spoke, trying to calm the brunette down. "You have to trust us, we were just talking about something we came up for next week just before Canada!"
The Ferrari driver tried to control his anger, if it was still possible. Meanwhile, he took his time to look at you with, once again, a mix of anger and disappointment, mainly for not answering him.
"And you, why don't you answer me? Are you only interested in him now?"
You looked at him surprised by such a comment, and tried to explain quickly:
"I'll repeat it again, honey: we were just having a friendly conversation! Lando is my friend and your rival, friend, or whatever you want to say it, but there's nothing more to it!"
Out of nowhere, Charles gently took you by the wrist and led you to a place where you could talk quietly. The green-eyed, despite having a bit more alcohol in his system than he should, knew he messed up and needed to fix it somehow.
"Y/N, please be honest: what were you talking about?" Leclerc asked with a concerned expression on his face for the scene he had caused.
"About what we could do in Monaco, here, next week, alright?" you responded, trying to reassure him. "You don't have to worry about anything"
"But why are you talking to him about racing?" the Monegasque insisted again, trying to calm his tone of jealousy. "I don't understand why you have to make plans with other drivers when you're my girlfriend."
"Charles, come on, don't be jealous!" you scolded with a playful smile. "Besides, what we were planning was a surprise party in your honor because, in case you don't remember, you just won your first home race ever. I don't think that's anything bad."
Charles felt really stupid at that moment.
"Are you jealous, my dearest friend?" Lando decided to intervene, who had been attentive the whole time to the intimate scene between the couple.
"What? No!" Leclerc replied as calmly as possible, his attempt in vain.
"Well, it seems quite the opposite to me," Norris said. "You should relax a bit. There's nothing wrong with your girlfriend talking to other drivers, even more so when she's preparing a party for you."
Il predestinato realized Norris was right and decided to calm down.You really didn't deserve the jerk behavior he was displaying at you at the moment.
"I guess you're right, Lando," he turned to you, timidly reaching for her hands. "I'm really sorry, Y/N, I shouldn't have behaved like that."
"It's okay, Charles. I understand that sometimes jealousy can be hard to control, I feel the same way sometimes about your fans, but I manage, not like you just showed me tonight!" you answer with a smile, hitting him in his arm.
Charles felt relieved to see that you had no interest in Lando beyond friendship and planning a failed surprise party in the process. Therefore, he just enjoyed the rest of the night with you, with his friend, and without having to worry about anything else.
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Only the elves really see Elrond as "half-elven." They focus, of course, on who he is in relation to them. He's sort-of an elf– enough that they can accept him into their society, but not enough to erase his differences. They understand the different parts of him– his propensity to get sick, his elvish-sharp hearing, his need for sleep, his immortality– as "elvish" or "not-elvish." And while they can be rather condescending about anything they see as "not-elvish," they aren't usually very curious.
Most men regard Elrond vaguely as a fae being. This isn't unique to him– much of Middle-Earth's changling and fairy stories were built on the strange human-and-not-human nature of half-elves. Of course, different humans regard them very differently– sometimes with respect, even reverence, believing that "fairies" are beings of great wisdom and knowledge. Others see them with suspicion and fear, viewing them as sources of danger and deception.
To the Numenorians, Elrond is just one of them– a kind of "immortal man." He is like them in several key ways– he gets ill, he needs sleep, he regards the passage of time in a very "human" way. More importantly, he is their kin, a living remnant and reminder of both their mythical founder and non-human blood they share. He acts as a healer and counselor when they need him. This is all well and good until some of them start thinking that if Elrond could make the choice to be immortal, surely they should be able to as well.
The dwarves see Elrond as an elf. They absolutely do not care enough to tell the difference between him and the others. He's immortal, he's always with a bunch of elves. He's an elf.
The Maiar do not really understand what Elrond is, and have kind of defaulting to seeing him as one of them but like, small. Look, they're all uncounted thousands of years old, he's a child to them. They dote on him and think he's adorable, but sometimes forget that he's also part-elf and part-human, and can't just drop his physical form whenever he likes to go be a disembodied spirit in the clouds. Gandalf encourages all their antics. Elrond is working on it.
(Contrary to popular belief, the average hobbit does not have any kind of opinion on Elrond Peredhel. Bilbo Baggins, who lives in his house and has written several long, extremely personal ballads about his family history, is a statistical outlier and should not have been counted.)
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uss-genderprise · 2 days
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okay the new episode has people poking my sleeping special interest like a bear and it was about time to wake it from hibernation anyway so here are some fun facts about welsh fairies
it's spelled fairy. it's always spelled fairy. not faerie, faery, fae, or fey. fairy. please. or tylwyth teg if you want to be proper about it
fairies are not inherently malevolent. they work by their own rules that sometimes don't make sense to humans but there are rules, if you pay attention.
yes fairies will punish you for doing something they don't want you to do
they will also reward you for doing things they do want you to do
fairy rings are circles of green grass. they sometimes how up as a different shade of green than the grass around it and are generally markers of where fairies dance, as well as portals to the fairy realm. mushrooms aren't really a thing for that in welsh folklore.
string and bones and flowers are man-made and possibly supposed to bind or protect against fairies (though i haven't seen anything quite like what we see in the episode described in any of my sources) but generally breaking one of those doesn't immediately anger fairies, just lets them in to affect whoever put the ward up in the first place. that's not called a fairy circle.
changelings exist in welsh folklore. have fun with your theories.
fairies will generally let you leave the fairy world if you ask nicely. yes even if you've eaten the food and drank the drinks
however time moves differently so when you come back you might be super old and/or turn to dust the moment someone touches you
dancing is a different thing tho. they don't exactly want you to stay dancing with them until you die of exhaustion but like that's on you my dude get your friends to help you
if you broke fairy rules like kicking them out of their meadow to build a castle they will count eight* generations** and come back to turn that castle into a lake and drown everyone inside. you have been warned (repeatedly. usually by old ladies and/or bards and/or birds or sometimes just. A Voice™)
* the number of generations can and does vary but in welsh folklore it's generally 8 that's an important number, not 3 or 7.
** also the way generations are counted is. weird. idk if it's that i'm bad at math or bad at welsh or that the book i read explaining this is over 100 years old but i don't think i fully got how many generations this actually is.
oh and they only wait if you beg enough otherwise they kill you now
so basically. no getting trapped in the fairy world as punishment. they just kill you
personally i think the closest thing in welsh folklore to that old woman is a weird lady but even that isn't a great fit
yeah fairies bend time and space to always be far away from you if they want to but that's generally because they're trying to avoid you not following you at a distance
i am fully aware rtd probably couldn't care less about any of this. he definitely didn't do the work that i did to learn all this and incorporating this into your theories is probably shooting yourself in the foot as far as actually being correct goes. HOWEVER i do think it's more interesting and fun this way :) theories are gonna be wrong anyway might as well respect the culture that's inspiring them while we're at it yeah?
i will cite my sources if anyone asks but i doubt many people care to read hundreds of pages of edwardian non fiction novels just to fact check me. trust me on this guys
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inkdrinkerworld · 1 day
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Hey babes😘 I love your Spencer x sunshine reader fics
Do you think Could you write a one shot of Spencer x sunshine reader where R is out of character annoyed or has an angry out bursts and Spencer trys to calm her down or something like that🩷🫣🪩
The door slams shut behind you, rattling the frame as you throw yourself into your spinning chair. 
You’re in Florida, already not a good thing, but now the local officers can’t seem to stop disregarding what you guys are telling them and it’s causing the Unsub to be even more rash prematurely. 
“Fucking idiots.” 
Spencer looks up from the board he’s staring at, frowning as he watches you snap a couple pencils from your case. 
“Y/n,” smooth and soft as velvet, but today you’re too prickly for it to work and make you smile. 
“I’m fine Spencer,” except getting the words out sounds like you’ve locked your jaw and can’t open it as you speak. Spencer doesn’t hold your attitude against you. 
He puts down the whiteboard marker, shoes clacking as he makes his way over to you. 
“I know you’re stressed, but we’ll get them. We always do, your profile hasn’t been wrong yet.” 
You huff, wishing away your bad mood as Spencer is being so encouraging. But you can’t, the longer you sit by idly the more your skin crawls. 
“Yeah but will we get them before those idiots make it so that their body count reaches twenty before we can get them behind bars? They’re being so fucking incompetent and irrational that it’s costing innocent people.” 
Spencer can see you grinding your teeth and tops your chin up, working his thumb under the hinge of your jaw to get you to unclench your teeth. 
He can’t even be upset with you, sometimes local law enforcement are your worst enemy. 
“I know, but Emily’s solving that issue. They’ll start keeping things to themselves.” 
You sigh, “We should be doing more. I don’t know what, but we have to be faster and smarter. We need to be better.” Your tone is leaning heavily on the side of self-deprecation, rough and self-critical like you’re the Unsub and not a group of women. 
Spencer crouches down, knees brushing yours as he ducks his head to catch your eyes. Melty honey brown eyes stare into yours, his mouth set in a soft line. 
“You need to breathe. I know you’re stressed and you’re worried, but you know what you’re doing. You’re great at profiling. We’re doing as much as we can right now and it has to be enough.” 
It’s hard to disregard Spencer when he speaks the words with all the confidence you’ve been lacking. When you nod a little he smiles, kissing your cheek. 
“Good, now come help me with the geoprofile.” Emily comes rushing into the room as you stand, taking the whiteboard marker into your hands. “Luke and Tara are at the freshest site now, some new evidence that might help with catching them. They’re rushing it to the labs now.” 
The knot in your shoulders ease up a little.
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flwrstqr · 2 days
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— HOW TO LOSE A GUY IN 10 DAYS (LHS - 이희승)
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SYNOPSIS ! an advice writer, you, starts on a bold new project for an article aiming to explain how to drive a man away in just 10 days. your editor is supports, so you set out to find a suitable man for her experiment. meanwhile, executive heeseung is equally confident in his ability to make any woman fall in love with him within 10 days. when you and heeseung cross paths, things slightly go off plan.
THE CAST heeseung x writer! fem reader
GENRE s2l, fluff, comedy, romance
WORD COUNT 5k+
WARNINGS parties, kissing, small grammar errors, yn kind of playing with heeseung at first, swearing, angst, crying
DANi NOTEZ hii this is for my liz's new event!!! this i based the rom com, how to lose a guy in 10 days. i kind of changed up scenes but the main idea and plot is based on the iconic 2000s movie. i've been writing this for abt 2-3 days? i thought it was good enough for liz' event so here i am. anyways i hope u enjoy it ><
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BEING A WRITER HAS BEEN YOUR NUMBER ONE GOAL EVER SINCE HIGH SCHOOL. Now, at age 23, you were finally standing at the gates of the biggest magazine company ever. The sight alone sent chills down your spine, filling you with exhilaration.
Taking a deep breath, you pushed open the doors and stepped inside. The bustling activity, the hum of the printer, and the aroma of bitter coffee greeted you. You made your way to the elevator and anxiously pressed the button for the 17th floor.
Upon arrival, you awkwardly walked into the office. Your heart was pounding, and your knees were slightly shaking. You approached the manager's office and opened the door, finding yourself sitting in front of your section's main manager.
"YN LN?" the woman asked.
"Yes, ma'am," you replied stiffly, nerves evident in your voice.
"Welcome to our magazine company," she greeted, shaking your sweaty hand.
"Thank you," you responded with your usual sweet smile.
"Well, why don't you get to work?" she laughed. Your eyes widened, and you quickly stammered an apology, rushing to find your new desk and start brainstorming ideas.
For nearly two hours, you gazed out the window, feeling empty. No ideas were coming to you. It always seemed that the best ideas came at the worst times, and now, when you needed them most, your mind was blank.
"YN, just think…" you whispered to yourself, running your fingers through your hair. You glanced around the office, hoping for inspiration. Your eyes settled on a young man and woman engaged in a flirtatious conversation. Watching them smile and laugh together made you wonder if they were a couple or just interested in each other. (happy couples really did give you an ick.)
Then, it happened. The perfect idea. An idea that could possibly get you promoted and shake the whole world.
Quickly scribbling on your paper, the title snapped into your mind: "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days."
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YOU MIGHT BE WONDERING, how do you even lose a guy in 10 days? Easy—just find a guy and drive him away by doing stereotypical “girl things.” Sounds like a piece of cake, right?
“YN, that is one of the BEST ideas I’ve ever heard!” your editor, Yeseo, exclaims.
“Really?” you ask, eagerly smiling.
“It’s perfect! It would catch everyone’s attention!” Yeseo explains, her eyes lighting up as she imagines the situation.
“So, how are you going to write this?” Yeseo raises an eyebrow.
“I’ll try it out myself and document my experiences. That way, it’s more authentic,” you shrug.
“That sounds great. Just journal your experiences each day,” Yeseo nods, agreeing with your plan. “I’m so excited to see the final product, YN. Email me once you’re finished, and we’ll get it published within weeks.”
You give her a quick smile before leaving her office, ready to start your new adventure.
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PARTIES. USUALLY ONE OF THE THINGS YOU ABSOLUTELY HATED. The noise of couples kissing, people screaming, and music blasting through the speakers was just not your thing. The way sweaty bodies brush against each other as they chug alcohol. Parties are truly the thing you hate the most.
“So you’re telling me your new article for the magazine is about how to get a boy to dump you in 10 days?” Karina raised her eyebrow.
“In other words, yes,” you smiled. “I mean, what’s the worst that can happen?”
“Possibly it not working,” Giselle interjected.
“Well, it will. I’ve planned the whole thing,” you grinned with a hint of pride. “My editor was impressed. I’m sure it’ll work.”
“If you say so,” Karina laughed at your confidence.
“So basically, YN will get a boyfriend before me?” Ningning asked, shocked.
“Well, he’s not gonna be my boyfriend. He’s more like a test,” you replied uncertainty. As you continued to explain your plan, you felt a gaze fixed on you from across the room.
A FEW MINUTES BEFORE
“I bet you can’t get a girlfriend,” Jake joked.
“I can,” Heeseung rolled his eyes.
“Wanna bet on it, then?” Jake's eyes glinted with playfulness.
“Deal,” Heeseung confirmed.
“If you get that girl over there as your girlfriend, then I’ll give you a thousand dollars.” Jake smirked, pointing at you across the room.
“Her?” Heeseung raised his eyebrow as he checked you out. You were pretty to his eyes, though he wasn’t sure if he had the courage to approach you.
“Yup, her,” Jake grinned.
“Deal, I’ll have her in my arms within a day,” Heeseung winked before walking over to ask for your number.
NOW
“No way my plan will fail–” your voice stopped as Heeseung approached, tapping your shoulder lightly.
“Hi,” he greeted you with a welcoming smile.
“Uh, hi?” you replied, confused.
“You’re kind of cute. Can I get your number?” Heeseung asked, the words not quite rolling off his tongue as he had never done this before.
Your cheeks burned slightly as you stared. “Sure?” He was quite cute, with his sweet smile and perfectly styled hair. You gave him your number, and he mentioned he would text you later before walking off.
“YN, you know what that means?” Giselle raised her eyebrow.
“Huh?” you looked confused.
“You can use him as your test,” Winter recalled. Your eyes then widened. Perfect! He would be the perfect subject for your new article. Now, how were you going to make him yours?
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YOU SIT ON YOUR BED, staring at your phone, debating whether to text Heeseung first. Your fingers hover over the keyboard, a mixture of nervousness and excitement bubbling inside you. Finally, you take a deep breath and type out a message.
YN: Hi, it’s YN. We met at the party earlier, you asked for my number. :)
You hit send and immediately feel a rush of anxiety. What if he doesn’t respond? What if he thinks you’re weird? You try to distract yourself by scrolling through social media, but the minutes feel like hours. Suddenly, your phone buzzes.
Heeseung: Hey, of course I remember. How's your night going? 
YN: It’s going good, just relaxing now. How about you?
Heeseung: Same here. Just got home. That party was a bit too much for me, tbh
You smile, feeling a little more at ease.
YN: Agreed, not rlly a party person lmao
Heeseung: Really? Me neither. I actually prefer a quiet night with some good music.
YN: Same, what kind of music do you like?
Heeseung: I listen to a lot like R&B and indie ig
YN: oh rlly? Same w me 
Heeseung: oh that’s cool
Heeseung: also wanna meet up one day?
YN: That would be amazing. I’m totally up for it.
Heeseung: Cool, it’s a date then. :)
You can’t help but smile at his message, feeling a flutter of excitement.
YN: Sounds like a plan.
Heeseung: It’s getting late. I should probably get some sleep. But I’m glad we got to talk tonight.
YN: Me too. Sleep well, Heeseung. Talk to you tomorrow?
Heeseung: Definitely. Goodnight, YN. :)
You set your phone down, a smile still on your face. This might just be the start of something interesting.
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YOU TAKE A DEEP BREATH, smoothing out your outfit one last time before stepping into the restaurant. Heeseung is already there, waiting at a table near the window. He spots you and waves, a warm smile spreading across his face. You give a small smile back. 
“Hi,” you greet him as you sit down.
“Hey,” he replies, “You look great.”
“Thanks, you too.”
The waiter comes over to take your orders, and there’s a moment of awkward silence as you both look at the menus.
“So, uh, do you come here often?” Heeseung asks, attempting to break the ice.
“Actually, it’s my first time,” you admit.
“I see,” Heeseung awkwardly laughs. 
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AFTER DINNER, you both step outside into the cool evening air, feeling more comfortable in each other’s presence.
“That was really nice,” Heeseung says, stuffing his hands into his pockets.
“Yeah, it was,” you agree, feeling a sense of relief that the awkwardness from earlier has faded.
You walk side by side down the quiet street, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere.
“Do you live far from here?” Heeseung asks, breaking the silence.
“Not too far. Just a few blocks away,” you reply, glancing at him.
“Oh I see,” he says, smiling.
As you continued walking, the two of you began to chatter off. The conversation flows effortlessly, and you find yourself laughing at his jokes and sharing your own stories.
“Did you see the sunset earlier?” Heeseung asks, pointing to the sky, which is now painted with shades of orange and pink.
“Yeah, it was beautiful,” you say, smiling at the sight.
“I had a really good time tonight,” Heeseung says, looking at you with a soft smile.
“Me too,” you reply, feeling a warmth spread through you.
As you reach your street, you both come to a stop.
“Well, I guess this is where we part ways,” Heeseung says, looking a little reluctant to leave.
“Yeah,” you say, feeling a twinge of disappointment.
“Thanks for tonight, YN. I had a great time,” he says, stepping closer to you, “Maybe another time we can hang out again.” 
“Thank you too, Heeseung. That sounds great,” you reply, feeling a rush of happiness.
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 YOU DECIDE IT'S TIME TO PUT YOUR PLAN INTO ACTION. You’ve thought through every detail, determined to see if your article concept works in real life. Step one: find an ugly dog and some hideous clothes. You’ve got the perfect ideas in mind.
You meet Heeseung outside his apartment, holding a small, scruffy dog with a face only its owner could love. You flash him a bright smile as he opens the door.
“Surprise!” you exclaim. “I got us a dog!”
Heeseung’s eyes widen as he takes in the sight of the dog. “Uh, wow, YN. That’s…unexpected.”
“Isn’t he adorable?” you gush, ignoring the bewilderment on Heeseung’s face. “I named him Snuggles.”
“Snuggles, huh?” Heeseung says, trying to muster enthusiasm. “Yeah, he’s…something.”
You place Snuggles in Heeseung’s arms, watching as the dog licks his face with an enthusiastic, slobbery tongue. Heeseung grimaces slightly but manages a strained smile.
“Let’s take him for a walk,” you suggest brightly, grabbing a garishly colored leash from your bag.
Later that evening, you bring out the next part of your plan: an outfit so hideous that it should be impossible for Heeseung to bear. You hand him a neon green tracksuit with orange polka dots and a pair of mismatched shoes.
“I thought we could match!” you say, revealing your identical outfit. “Isn’t it fun?”
Heeseung looks at the clothes, then back at you, clearly unsure how to respond. “Wow, YN. This is…unique.”
“You don’t like it?” you ask, pouting slightly.
“No, no, it’s great,” he says quickly. “I’ll just, uh, go change.”
When he returns, you both look like you’ve stepped out of a bad 80s workout video. You can’t help but laugh at the absurdity, but Heeseung seems to be struggling to keep a straight face.
“Let’s go grab dinner,” you say, linking your arm with his. “I made reservations at that fancy restaurant downtown.”
At the restaurant, the two of you turn heads as you walk in, dressed in your eye-searing outfits. The hostess tries to maintain her professionalism as she leads you to your table, but you can see the corners of her mouth twitching.
Throughout dinner, you do your best to be as irritating as possible. You chew with your mouth open, talk loudly, and insist on ordering the strangest items on the menu.
“Are you sure you want the pizza?” Heeseung asks, a note of disbelief in his voice.
“Absolutely,” you reply, grinning. “And I think you should try it too!”
Heeseung hesitates but eventually nods. “Sure, why not?” 
Here you were, sitting on your bed as you write your story. Typing away and zoning out, it had to be working right? He obviously would be over you by next week. All you needed was one more shove to drive him away soon as possible. Just 5 more days..
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YOU PUSH YOUR CART THROUGH the aisles of the grocery store, scanning the shelves for the items on your list. As you reach for a box of cereal, you hear a familiar voice behind you.
“YN?”
You turn to see Heeseung approaching, a smile lighting up his face. “Oh, hi Heeseung,” you say with a smile.
“Nice to see you here,” he says, falling into step beside you.
“Yeah, I just needed to grab a few things,” you reply, feeling a bit flustered by his presence.
Heeseung nods, and for a moment, there’s an awkward silence as you both continue browsing. Suddenly, you realize you can’t reach the item you need on the top shelf.
“Um, Heeseung, do you think you could help me with something?” you ask, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Of course, what do you need?” he replies, stepping closer.
“I just need to grab that box up there,” you say, pointing to the top shelf.
“Sure thing,” Heeseung says, reaching up to grab the box.
But as he stretches, you accidentally bump into him, causing him to lose his balance. In a split second, you reach out to steady him, but instead, you end up stumbling backward, crashing to the ground on top of him. Your face merely inches from each other. 
“I’m sorry about that!” you exclaim, your face burning with embarrassment.
“It’s okay, don’t worry about it,” he says, his cheeks also flushed as he helps you up.
“Um, we should probably get up,” you say, feeling flustered.
“Yeah, definitely,” Heeseung agrees, scrambling to his feet.
You both straighten your clothes and try to regain your composure, but the awkwardness lingers in the air.
“Well, um, thanks for trying to help,” you say, feeling a bit embarrassed.
“Anytime,” Heeseung replies with a sheepish smile. You exchange a quick awkward glance before awkwardly walking back to do your own things.
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YOU AND HEESEUNG STEP INTO THE DIMLY LIT MOVIE THEATER, the smell of popcorn filling the air. You’ve been looking forward to this night out, hoping it will help end your plan to drive him away. As you settle into your seats, the lights dim, and the movie begins.
The film is a romantic comedy, and as the story unfolds, you find yourself getting lost in the plot. But when the characters share a kiss on screen, you feel a sudden tension between you and Heeseung.
You glance at him out of the corner of your eye, and you can see that he’s watching you, his expression unreadable. You both look away awkwardly, feeling a flush of embarrassment.
As the movie progresses, the tension between you only grows. You can feel Heeseung’s eyes on you, and you struggle to focus on the screen, your heart pounding in your chest.
Suddenly, as another kiss happens, Heeseung leans in closer to you. You freeze, unsure of what to do. Is he going to kiss you? But then, almost as if on cue, Heeseung leans in closer, his lips hovering just inches from yours. His breath mingles with yours, his warm exhales tickling your skin as he leans in, his lips drawing closer to yours. You can feel the gentle brush of his breath against your mouth, sending shivers down your spine. 
Your heart pounds in your chest as you feel the warmth of his breath against your skin. And then, in a heartbeat, he closes the gap between you, his lips pressing softly against yours. It’s a gentle kiss, but hesitant at first, but soon it deepens. You can’t help but respond, your hands finding their way to his shoulders.
You melt into the kiss, losing yourself in the sensation of his lips against yours.  When you finally pull away, your heart is racing, and your mind is buzzing with emotions. You meet Heeseung’s gaze, and you can see the same uncertainty reflected in his eyes.
“Wow,” he whispers, his voice barely audible over the sound of the movie.
“Yeah,” you murmur, at a loss for words.
As the movie comes to an end, you both sit in silence, the weight of what just happened hanging in the air. But despite the awkwardness, you can’t shake the feeling that something has shifted between you.
As you leave the theater, you can’t help but replay the kiss in your mind, feeling a sense of warmth and longing that you can’t ignore. And as you walk hand in hand with Heeseung, you realize with a start that maybe, just maybe, you’re falling in love.
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AS YOU LIE IN BED THAT NIGHT, the events of the evening replay in your mind. The gentle touch of Heeseung's lips against yours, the warmth of his embrace—it all stuck in your head. 
You stare up at the ceiling, think to yourself.  Love? It's a word you're not ready to utter, a feeling too intense to comprehend. You try to push the thought aside. 
You roll onto your side, pulling the covers tighter around you. You couldn’t be in love? All that effort you put in to get rid of him. It was your 8th day, just two more days. You couldn’t do it anymore. As you drift off to sleep, the question echoes in your mind. Are you falling in love with Heeseung? 
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THE REALIZATION HITS YOU like a ton of bricks, leaving you feeling breathless. Could it be true? Are you actually falling in love with Heeseung?
The thought consumes you as you go about your day. By the time evening arrives, you can't shake the feeling that you needed to end it.
Summoning every ounce of courage, you pick up your phone and dial your editor's number. When she answers, you get yourself together for the conversation ahead.
"Hey, it's me," you begin, "I need to talk to you about the article."
There's a pause on the other end of the line, and you can almost hear the curiosity in her voice as she responds. "Sure, what's up?"
"I… I can't write it," you admit, the words feeling like a confession. "I just don't feel right about it anymore."
There's a moment of silence before your editor speaks again, her tone firm."No, you're writing it," she says, leaving no room for argument.
"But—" you start to protest, but she cuts you off before you can continue.
"No buts," she insists. "We've already agreed on the topic, and you're the best person for the job. I expect to see the first draft on my desk by the end of the week."
You sigh, feeling defeated. It's clear that your editor isn't going to budge on this issue, and you know that arguing further would be a waste.
"Okay," you say reluctantly, resigning yourself to the task at hand. "I'll get it done."
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AS YOU SIT ON YOUR COUCH, trying to make sense of everything that's happened, until you hear Heeseung pick up a call. 
“ Heeseung!" Jake's voice crackles through the phone, filled with excitement. "So, have you sealed the deal yet? Win YN over?"
Your heart skips a beat at the mention of your name and you instinctively lean in closer, eager to hear his response. But as you listen, the color drains from your face, and a cold dread settles in the pit of your stomach.
"The bet that I could get YN in 10 days?," Heeseung's voice comes through the phone, his words cutting through the air, "I thought I could, but…" 
Your heart shatters. Your knees started to shake. How could you have been so blind? How could you have let yourself fall for someone who was playing a game with your feelings?
Before you can hear the rest of his sentence, you leave the room silently. "I thought I could, but…" The words replay in your head.As the reality sinks in, you realize that you may have just broken your own heart, listening in on a conversation that was never meant for your ears.  He played with you. He was using you. You feel like a fool, blindsided by the truth that's been staring you in the face all along. 
You walk yourself to the nearest taxi before coming back to your empty apartment. You lie on bed, your palms on your eyes, sobbing quietly. Why should you care? I mean he was just an experiment — right? 
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THE MORNING SUNLIGHT FILTERS through the curtains as you sit on your bed, thoughts rushing through your mind. The wounds from last night were still raw, as you feel tired and sick. You kew what you have to do. You began to type your last paragraph of the article before submitting it to your editor. 
With the article sent, you feel a mix of anxiety and relief. You know the revised piece is honest and raw, reflecting your own experience. But there’s one more thing you need to do to truly move forward.
To: Editor Yeseo
Subject: Resignation Letter
Dear Yeseo,
I am writing to formally resign from my position as a writer, effective immediately. I appreciate the opportunities I have had here and the support from the team, but I must prioritize my well-being at this time.
Thank you for your understanding.
Sincerely, YN
You hit send, feeling an overwhelming amount of pain. Being a writer had been your dream job, but now, it feels like a chapter you need to close. As you sit in your now-quiet apartment, you feel a pang of sadness. The memories of the past few weeks with Heeseung linger, but you push them aside. 
You start with your closet, pulling out clothes and sorting them into piles: keep, donate, and toss. You take down the photos and posters from the walls, each one a reminder of the life you’re leaving behind.
Next, you move to the kitchen, packing up dishes, utensils, and small appliances. You wrap everything carefully, methodically, as if each item represents a piece of your heart that you’re trying to protect. 
Your phone buzzes with messages from Heeseung, but you ignore them. Making them be left on delivered. You move to the living room, packing up books, DVDs, and mementos. You’re not just packing up your belongings; you’re packing up your old life, preparing to move on and start new.
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IN HIS DIMLY LIT APARTMENT, Heeseung sits on the edge of his bed, the glow of his laptop screen casting shadows across his face. His heart pounds in his chest as he opens the email attachment—a document titled "How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days—And Fall in Love in the Process" by [Your Name].
As the page loads, he takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to read. The cursor hovers over the first paragraph, and with a trembling hand, he begins to scroll down. 
Heeseung sits at his desk, his heart pounding in his chest as he reads the article that has just landed in his inbox. With each word, his emotions spiral into a whirlwind of confusion and disbelief.
"When I set out to write this article..."
He reads the opening sentence, his brow furrowing in confusion. What article is this? And why does it sound so familiar?
As he continues to read, the pieces start to fall into place. The description of the article, the unexpected turn of events—it's all too familiar, too painful to ignore.
"I met someone who was supposed to be just a test subject..."
Heeseung's breath catches in his throat as he realizes what he's reading. This is about him. About the bet, about the article he overheard, about everything.
He reads on, his heart pounding louder with each passing sentence:
When I set out to write this article, the plan was simple: follow a set of steps to make a guy dump me in ten days. It was supposed to be a fun, light-hearted challenge—a piece to entertain our readers. But life, as it often does, had other plans.
I met someone who was supposed to be just a test subject. But as the days went by, something unexpected happened. The more I tried to push him away, the closer we became. Every awkward moment, every forced argument, every silly plan to drive him away only brought us closer together.
I found myself laughing at his jokes, looking forward to our time together, and, against all odds, feeling a connection I hadn't anticipated. What started as a challenge turned into a journey of discovery—not just about him, but about myself.
I realized that love isn't something you can plan or control. It sneaks up on you when you least expect it, breaking down the walls you've carefully built around your heart. And sometimes, the person you're trying to lose ends up being the one you can't imagine living without.
So, dear readers, this isn't the article I set out to write. It's not about foolproof ways to make a guy dump you. Instead, it's a story about how, in the process of trying to push someone away, I found myself falling in love. It's messy, it's unexpected, and it's beautiful.
Life has a funny way of turning our plans upside down. And sometimes, the best stories are the ones we never meant to write.
He closes the magazine, his mind spinning with thoughts of you. He knows he needs to find you, to talk to you, to tell you how he feels. He can't let this opportunity slip away, can't let the chance to be with you slip through his fingers.
With a sense of determination, Heeseung rises from his seat, his heart pounding in his chest. He knows he has to find you, to tell you how he feels, to see if maybe, just maybe, you feel the same way too.
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HEESEUNG'S HEART RACES AS HE RUSHES THROUGH THE STREETS, his mind consumed with thoughts of you. He knows he needs to find you, to talk to you, to tell you everything.
As he rounds the corner, he sees your apartment building looming ahead. His steps quicken, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps. He's so close now, so close to finally telling you how he feels.
But as he reaches your building, his heart sinks at the sight before him. He sees movers loading boxes into a truck parked outside, and he realizes with a sinking feeling that you're moving away.
Heeseung's chest tightens with panic, his mind racing as he searches for a solution. He can't let you slip away, can't let this chance to be with you slip through his fingers. He rushes toward the building, his thoughts jumbled all up. 
As he bursts through the door, he sees you standing in the hallway, a suitcase at your feet, tears streaming down your face. His heart breaks at the sight of your sadness, and he knows he needs to act fast.
"Y/N!" he calls out, his voice echoing through the empty hallway. You turn to face him, your eyes widening in surprise at the sight of him standing there.
"Heeseung?" you whisper, your voice trembling with emotion. "What are you doing here?"
Heeseung takes a deep breath, steeling himself for what he's about to say. "I need to talk to you," he says, his voice filled with urgency. "There's something I need to tell you, something I should have told you a long time ago."
He steps closer to you, his eyes never leaving yours. "I was part of the bet," he admits, his voice barely above a whisper. "But it was never about winning a thousand dollars or proving anything to Jake. It was about proving something to myself—to prove that I could be the kind of guy who deserves someone like you."
Tears well up in your eyes as you listen to his confession, your heart aching with a mix of sadness and hope. "Heeseung…" you whisper, reaching out to touch his hand.
But Heeseung doesn't wait for you to say anything more. With a surge of courage, he leans in and presses his lips to yours, pouring all of his love and longing into the kiss. 
As Heeseung's lips meet yours in that soft, tender kiss, his hands gently find their way to your waist, pulling you closer to him.
You feel the heat of his body against yours, the closeness intensifying the sensation of his lips moving against yours. His touch is gentle yet possessive, his fingers tracing patterns on your skin as if memorizing every curve of your body.
You pull away, staring and laughing for a moment. 
"I love you," you whisper softly. 
"I love you more," he smiles back, quietly leaning his forehead against yours to quickly catch his lips on yours again. Maybe writing that article wasn't so bad after all.
363 notes · View notes
satorusugurugurl · 3 days
Text
Aloe Vera
Summary: When on vacation with your boyfriend, things are great, the drinks, the sex, and the pool. What wasn't great, was the sunburn? But you're dating the strongest sorcerer of the modern age! He’ll take good care of you!
Characters: Gojo Satoru x FAB!Reader
Word Count: 1,408
Warnings: language, sunburn (please wear sunscreen!) fluff~!
A/N: As someone who lives in the desert, this happens a lot. My S.O was sweet enough to rub aloe on me last week, thus my muse!
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“Oooh fuck me.” You whine, shuffling into the bathroom. “Fuuuuck me.”
Satoru is right behind you, towel wrapped around his neck, sunglasses pushing his bangs out of his face. “I told you to put on sunscreen! But nooo, somebody stayed by the pool because someone wanted to live, laugh, and work on her tan.”
Your boyfriend was right; you had said those exact words to him earlier that day. When he specifically tried to get you to put more sunscreen on. You had a shirt for him and that you were fine. The sunscreen you put on four hours prior was waterproof, as you floated in a donut.
But the sunscreen had to be reapplied every four hours. If you had taken the time to read the bottle, you think you would know. You really should have listened to your boyfriend. But you were so excited that summer was just around the corner; the only sound you wanted to listen to was the sound of margaritas being made and beach balls bouncing.
If your skin ever felt like skin again, you would listen to whatever the sunscreen bottle and your boyfriend told you to do.
Your skin was so burnt it wasn’t even funny. It was painful and hot; it hurt to move with every step you took towards the shower. Satoru winced, watching as you whimpered, stepping out of your swimsuit and turning the water to a lukewarm temperature.
You don’t even have a chance to step in as arms gently wrap around you. Satoru intended it to be a comforting gesture. Instead, it had you jolting in pain as the cloth of your boyfriend's jacket rubbed against your burnt, sensitive skin. Your yelp had him pulling back, arms held out in front of him.
“F-Fuck baby! I’m sorry!”
“N-no, it’s okay, it’s fine, I-I’m just going to sit here and suffer for all eternity.” Satoru doesn’t say anything as you step into the water. You try to hold back the cries of pain that threaten to pass through your lips, but Gojo can still hear them. The tiny, pained whines have him wincing along with you. He hated seeing you in pain and regretted not making you put on more sunscreen. If he had been more stern with you, then maybe he wouldn’t be in the position that you are right now. But it wasn’t like he could go back in time. You had neglected to put on more sunscreen, and he had failed to pin you down on the pool deck and rub it all over your stupidly cute face. He could not go back in time to change the outcome.
There was, however, one thing he could do.
“Hey, I’m going to step out for a little bit. I need to run to the store in the lobby and grab a couple of things. Are you going to be okay?”
A pained yes is all he hears before you slowly sink to the shower floor, allowing the cold water to run over your burnt skin. Gojo wastes no time; the second who knew you would be okay on your own for a bit, he was bolting out of your hotel room and running down to the hotel store.
You shower to your best abilities without being in excruciating pain. Skipping on the rag and the loofah, you gently wash your body with your hands, which still hurts. You made a vow to yourself with the showerhead that you would never forget to reapply your sunscreen again. Even if you were to fail, your boyfriend wouldn’t.
For the time being, the only thing you could do was try to relax, even though it felt like you wanted to peel your skin off of your body. After your shower, you shuffle back into the main room, collapsing onto the bed, bare butt naked, enjoying the cool crisp sheets underneath you. Between your still-wet skin and the air conditioning, You felt some form of comfort as the hotel room door opened.
At first, you jumped, searching for anything to cover your skin, but quickly, the door shut a second later, and you heard the wrinkling of a plastic bag heading further into the room. “Toru?” You call down gently, lifting your head to search for your boyfriend.
“It’s me; you weren’t doing anything naughty, were you?” he teases, even though he knew the only thing you could do was cry in pain from the sunburn that covered most of your body. Having sex like this was out of the question.
“If by naughty you mean laying my naked ass on our bed, then yes, I am being naughty.”
You can hear his running footsteps just before his shadow spreads on the bed before you. For a second, you think that he’s going to wolf whistle or fist pump or even make some crude comment about how sexy you look naked on his bed, and he didn’t even have to ask you to do anything. Instead of crude comments, the bed dips under his weight as he flops near you.
One second, you're lying there in silence, and the next second, a cold jelly-like substance is squeezed on your back. Said jelly instantly eases the burn on your back, making you moan softly as Satoru’s hands gently rub the cooling, earthy-smelling liquid over your irritated skin. The contrast of cool against your burning skin felt magical. The pain subsided from a persistent throbbing or a mild sting.
“Mmm, Toru, that feels good~” You smile happily, “Thank you, baby.”
“You're welcome, sweetheart. Just remember this moment when I'm lathering sunscreen on you from now on.”
You scoff as Satoru rolls you onto your back so he can rub aloe vera over the front of your body. “Oh please, you think I’m ever going to get this burnt again?”
“You won't once I lather you up in sunscreen.”
“I just wanted to get a little tanner to give off goddess vibes.”
“Babe, you already do that.” The way your eyes widen and glimmer at his words makes Satoru fight the urge to pat himself on the back. “My sunburnt goddess.” He admires the lighter skin tones from where your swimsuit was to the darker tones of your sunburn. God, your skin was so pretty, even when it was burnt.
“Oh, haha, asshole. Sunburnt Goddess, my ass.”
“It's true; allow me to lather you in aloe vera and fan you with a palm tree leaf.”
You rub your face against the sheets. “But of course, my devote ivory follower~”
“Heeey, why am I the ivory follower?”
“Have you seen your pasty ass?”
Your boyfriend's hands stop their treading as he sputters in shock. “Pasty ass?! Pasty!?” You laugh out loud, lifting your head to look up at him. “I do not have a pasty ass!”
“I'm sure the astronauts in the space station can see your pasty ass when you're naked,” Gojo grumbles, digging in the bag and opening something. “The aliens can see your glorious ass from galaxies away. The honored one's ass, the strongest ass of the modern age.” Gojo perks up with a smirk, nodding as he slaps a cool patch on your forehead.
“Keep going, sweetheart~ I'm almost there~.”
You don't get any further as Gojo grabs one of his oversized t-shirts and carefully slips it on you. “Thank you, Satoru, for taking such good care of me, Satoru.” Your boyfriend grins, eyes shutting as he lies down next to you, teaching into his bag, handing you a popsicle.
“You're welcome, sweetheart.”
You both lick at your popsicles in the cool air of the hotel room. When a single thought crosses your eyes, wander over your boyfriend's exquisite body. “Hey Toru?” the man is sucking down on his popsicle like he was giving it the gluck-gluck-five thousand.
“Yeah?”
“Can you get sunburned with infinity?”
“Huh,” he blinked slowly, “I mean, the special grade curse Jogo didn't burn me—so I'm assuming not. Just another benefit of being the honored one.”
“The honored one with a pasty ass.” A smirk pulls at the corner of your mouth as Satoru chokes on his sugary treat.
Forever Tag List:
@darkstarlight82 @pandoness @nealeart @simp-plague @sugurubabe @chilichopsticks
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lexirosewrites · 1 day
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What about omega prison guard Steve and alpha prisoner Eddie Munson.
Steve should sue that prison for workplace endangerment and I’m so sorry for how late this is. I have others still in my inbox too that I will get to eventually!
That being said... alpha prisoner Eddie flirting with nervous prison guard Steve!!! Steve who's been told to be wary of inmates trying to intimidate him with threats, but he was never warned that he'd fall in love with the charming weirdo in Block D who's always telling him how pretty he is.
At first, Steve assumes that inmate Munson is trying to get extra time in the yard or a better work assignment, but he never does. He greets Steve like a friend, asks how his dog is, and even makes sure that other prisoners don't mess with him despite being an omega working in an alpha prison.
It feels too good to be true, but five days a week, Steve clocks in and instantly finds himself drawn to Block D. Even if it's not his assignment for the day, he makes a point to say good morning to Eddie. Sometimes he does sneak him an extra granola bar from commissary if he's feeling generous, even though Eddie would never ask.
"Morning, officer beautiful."
Steve laughs at that, sticking his hand in his pocket to quickly find the pack of gum security had allowed him to bring inside. Not necessarily following protocol, but he figures that it's innocent enough.
"Good morning, Munson," he greets.
Eddie gets off his cot and comes over to the bars of his cell, his smile widening when he catches sight of the bright pink package of gum in Steve's outstretched hand.
He has to be subtle about the special treatment, but Eddie’s good about that, accepting the present and pocketing it quickly.
"Surely you can come up with a better petname than that, baby? You've had damn near a whole year to pick one for me,” Eddie teases in a whisper.
Steve brushes it off with a laugh, putting a little more space between them.
Having a soft spot for a handsome prisoner wouldn’t look good to the other inmates or his fellow correctional officers. Everyone already thinks he’s not fit for this job and he can’t afford to lose it. It’s the best paying job he’s ever had and the benefits are great.
“Alright, Munson. Mind your manners.. What’s on the agenda for Block D? Are you running your little club this morning?”
The alpha typically leads some weird club for the prisoners on good behavior. Steve has never understood their funny game, but he always volunteers to oversee it.
Eddie smirks, throwing him a wink as he returns to his bunk and picks up a full box to show Steve.
“Big plans for today, actually.”
He chuckles at that.
There are no big plans in prison. Every day is more or less the same. Eddie either has a work assignment or his club. Sometimes he attends a special workshop or class for some college credit, but it’s not exactly the Ritz-Carlton.
“Sure, Munson. Whatever you say,” Steve says, rolling his eyes.
Eddie pouts.
“Don’t you want to know why all my stuff is packed up? You aren’t the least bit curious?”
Huh?
He looks around the cell, suddenly noticing how bare the walls are— devoid of Eddie’s monstrous drawings and plans for his game. In fact, his bed has been completely stripped and none of his books are lying around the place anymore.
“Eddie? What— what’s happening here?” Steve questions frantically, his heart racing now at the idea of his favorite prisoner being transferred elsewhere.
He’s had good behavior lately, but maybe he got caught in a fight on Steve’s weekend off?
Eddie can’t leave. He’s unintentionally become Steve’s best friend here and honestly, he’ll really miss the guy. Even the extra attention and flirting too!
The alpha drops his box and comes all the way to the bars, close enough that he can reach a hand through and take Steve’s. He squeezes it gently, settling Steve’s panic a little with his calming scent now.
“Hey now, baby. I thought you’d be happy for me? Are you really that upset that I’m getting out finally?”
Getting… out? Holy shit. Eddie is leaving prison. For good.
“You— your time is up?”
Eddie leans down, glancing around to make sure nobody sees him press a kiss to the omega’s knuckles.
“Yeah, sweetheart. I told you I was gonna be on my best behavior for the parole board. How else was I gonna take you on that date I promised?”
Everything he says always sounds confident and a little cocky, but for once, Eddie seems vulnerable and sincere.
He actually wants to take Steve on a date.
Steve shakes his head, but doesn’t pull his hand away from Eddie.
“You didn’t really mean that,” he protests. “I know you were just messing around or whatever, Eddie.”
“Oh, so now you know my name?” the alpha teases.
Steve rolls his eyes, wanting a real answer.
“Munson…”
Eddie grins.
“Alright, alright. No need for all of that, honey. I just thought I’d give you a heads-up in case you wanted me to leave you alone when I get out. I didn’t really expect you to let an ex-con take you out, but it gave me something to aim for and I wanted to thank you nonetheless for being such a good friend, even if you don’t want to see me outside of here.”
Steve hesitates for a moment.
Of course he didn’t realize that Eddie was getting free any time soon when the alpha joked about taking him out and “showing him a good time.”
But does that really change anything?
If Eddie wasn’t an inmate, would Steve be interested in him? The answer seems clear, but he’d never had to think it through before now.
He clears his throat, giving Eddie a smile as he comes to a conclusion.
“I think… I think you could thank me with dinner, Munson. I’m assuming you have a place to stay already? Do you have a number I can call too?”
Eddie grins like a kid in a candy store and runs to grab a piece of paper out of the box, writing on it frantically before shoving it into Steve’s open hand.
“I’m staying with my Uncle Wayne. He got me a position at his garage since I got all my certs here. My first paycheck is all yours, Steve. You find the fanciest restaurant in town and I’ll book the table, sweetheart,” Eddie promises. “You won’t regret this.”
He blushes at the intense stare from the alpha, feeling surprisingly eager for him to follow through with this.
“I’m going to hold you to that, Eddie. Don’t keep me waiting too long.”
Steve loses his favorite inmate that day, but ends up with a different kind of mate a few months later.
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takes1 · 2 days
Text
asahi x feral reader w/ a size k!nk
this was indulgent for me. asahi is def a favorite of mine. idk where the kuroo's little sister idea really stems from, but it just came to me and worked with my prompt (mostly adding conflict/humor). thirsty lead-up to some pay-off smut
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warnings. asahi thirst. eventual smut. minors DNI info. lite!nsfw to future smut / gentle giant!asahi / asahi appreciation / size kink / kuroo's sister!reader / kuroo cockblocking / 860 words / multi-part smut so reply to be added to taglist! haikyuu collection. more here. part two here. more links. masterlist. my ao3. requests/submissions: open
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Great, hulking muscles slammed a ferocious serve through the other side of the court. An easy point for his team.
Screams of adoration from Karasuno supporters and his own teammates echoed in your ears: Asahi.
Yeah, that was a name you could get used to screaming.
Your jaw was on the floor. Your trembly hands seized the railing to keep your wobbly body barely upright. The sigh you gave felt like it lasted minutes, so when you went to gasp for more air, it sounded like a demented groan.
"I need him biblically," You heard yourself declare.
It may have been the show of force, but there was something about a kind face attached to that weapon of a body that set your senses on fire. You were already crafting plans to seduce him after the game, making fictional arrangements to ensure you could be under him in the shortest wait time possible.
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"What?" Your friend laughed at you, a hand on your shoulder to jerk you back to reality.
You were on the opposite side of the court, after all. What you could see of him was through the net.
That was not your team by any means- you were connected to the one in front of you by blood.
"Number 3," You sighed, leaning against the railing. Maybe you'd fall into the court and he could catch you in his big arms. Then, you'd start making out and--
"Yaku??" She laughed.
"No!" You made a disgusted sound, "God, not-- Karasuno number three!"
Her laughter only made you feel like talking to him was as realistic as Nekoma winning right now. With a 7-point difference, it was pretty self-explanatory.
"Yaku's not that bad," She grinned at your eyes rolling all the way back into your skull, "Hey! You've gotta calm down."
Your head was on your arms, crumpled against the railing. There was no chance in Hell you'd let this opportunity slip from your fingers.
The energy pumping through you was straight-up biological.
It was the only explanation for a need that went this deep, so strong that it carried your legs down the stands and into the hallway behind the gymnasium after the game was over.
This deranged arousal only felt out of place when your brother stopped you from moving further down, to where Karasuno was packing their gear up.
"Woahwoahwoah," Kuroo narrowed his eyes at you and spun you around by your shoulder, "Where the hell do you think you're going?"
He knew something was up. There was a sick scheme playing out in your eyes.
He glanced from you, to the rowdy group of giants the next space over, then back to you with a harder look.
"None of your business," You spat, thinking him funny to try to get in your way like this in front of people. He usually acted like you were the dirt on the bottom of his shoe in public.
You only went to his games to spot cute boys, anyway. This time you were actually successful and felt so inclined as to approach said-cute-boy.
"Let go," You wrenched your arm out of his gross, sweaty hand and scoffed, walking off towards Karasuno's beautiful, meaty Ace.
There was a muttered, 'Whatever,' and you knew he didn't care enough to foil your plans again. They did just lose.
The thought crossed your mind to remove your Nekoma school hoodie only after it was too late. Karasuno spotted some enemy colors and quieted upon your approach.
Any confidence you had gathered shrank tenfold-- but you locked in on the subject of your desire and remembered your divine mission.
Get railed. This week.
That wouldn't happen if you backed down now or fucked up the plan.
He was in the center of his team, so you had to give some small 'Excuse me's to get to who you were here for.
Shocked, silent looks were exchanged all around when you stopped in front of him at last.
You were gathered in a sea of players, trapped to carry out the reason that brought you here.
"Um," You found it impossible to look at his face, so you looked forward at his chest while you gathered the courage, "That was a good game."
You tried to swallow the growing need to scream when you looked up. He had facial hair, you realized- his eyes were deep brown, his skin dark tan, and he was one of the two tallest on the team.
It occurred to you that you picked the biggest, baddest guy in this hall.
You grabbed his hand and deposited a piece of paper inside, "Call me."
Unable to look at his face again, you decided that was enough to get your point across and sifted through the gathered crowd of Karasuno's team members.
With your back turned, head swimming with regret at your forwardness, you couldn't see nor understand the strangled sounds of teenage boys celebrating their cowardly ace getting a cute girl's number like that.
Pushing, pulling, laughing, shoving, and other celebratory verbalizations were far behind you when you joined Nekoma once again- your home team beyond curious as to what you did to make their rivals even louder.
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taglist.
none. reply to be added!
masterlist. taking requests.
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yuri-is-online · 2 days
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Jade falling in love for the first time and being an absolute loser simp about it.
Yuu lives in his head and fantasies rent free; he can't get enough of them. He wrote about them in his diary (one with a lock on it because floyd likes to snoop). He needs them so bad. It's like that one meme where the girl is like "I need him in a way that's concerning to feminism". He's so desperate someone help him.
Bro has innocent little fantasies of them together, like Yuu waking up beside him and peppering his face in sweet little kisses while he tries to hold them closer and convince them to stay in bed for 5 more minutes (it never really does just end up being 5 minutes though), and then his thoughts just take a sharp turn and what was a sweet little daydream has turned into thoughts of him softly and sleepily fucking Yuu into his mattress. He didn't get to go back to sleep but he's not complaining about it if this is the cost he's paying. The world us cold and hard but you're soft and warm and if fantasies are the closest he's getting to that peace then so be it
He is one jealous eel (he is in deep denial about this but us slowly starting to realize just how far deep into this he us and he really doesn't want to acknowledge that), and he get the most jealous over the most innocent shit too. One day he sees Yuu and Epel talking in a language he doesn't recognize and he's like ???, and it turns out it's their native language but it doesn't exist here so he can't learn it dammit. He sees them struggling to do something and look around the library for help, skipping right over him and asking Ace ir Deuce for help. They've even picked Leona for help before him! Seriously he is RIGHT HERE! what can any of them do for Yuu that he can't?!
Jade has to be careful with his merform around them. Partially because everytime Yuu walks into the room his body suddenly decides to cosplay a laser rave, but also because he's been overthinking shit recently. Yuu is a human, painfully so. They're expecting a human courtship and a human marriage and a human family and a human life and. He can't give that to them. Not unless he stays on land forever, which he might be able to do, but realistically he wouldn't want to. So that leaves Yuu coming to the coral sea where it's cold and dark and he just can't see Yuu doing something like that (he's wrong you've wanted to be a mermaid ever since your cousin made you watch H2O when you were like 7), so now he just trys to be as human as possible around you so he doesn't scare you off.
Also there's the fact that every time spring transitions into summer and he's stuck in his merfirm for the next week and a half and now you really can't see him like this because if he sees you then you're going to be dragged into the water so fast with an 12 foot long eel wrapped around you while he desperately tries to stop himself from being too desperate and start rutting against you and- Oh great seven he's so sorry-
Oh, you like that? Your bringing his face to your neck and fuck you smell so nice and he's biting down and tearing your clothes apart with his claws before he knows what's going on and your legs are wrapping around his tail and-
... Grotto. Where's the grotto he had picked out? He was just in it where is it?
Jade asks you for art supplies in one of his birthday lines so he can draw while he hikes. His "diary" is something Floyd took an interest in once upon a time until he saw it full of mushrooms, rocks, and mountains. Jade still puts a lock on it because he finds it funny looking, but there's more than just mushrooms in there now. Need he's not merely in love he's in need of you and it's affecting his ability to function.
If he wakes up alone in his dreams he will find you in the kitchen, trying to hurry up and make your tea so you can so you can surprise him for once. It never works as he's able to trap you against the counter and breathe down your neck, winding himself around you as you laugh the pure music that he thinks your laugh would sound like as he presses into you so you can feel how much he wanted to to be next to you this morning. How troublesome that he had to go find you and draw out his suffering, not to fret. He loves you so, there's no reason to worry that he won't be gentle with how he lowers you down onto the counter, he'll still prepare you softly but he won't be slow in how he takes you-
He's slow to return to wakefulness, he doesn't mind the cold because it makes him feel at home but he does not like being alone. Loving you is a lot like losing you because he becomes so aware of how he is alone. Jade sees himself as a good person to ask for help, he does not think he is wrong in his benevolence but perhaps that's exactly the problem. Perhaps you know what trifling thing he is working towards obtaining and find him unworthy, Epel can speak to you in ways he can't (to ask you to teach him your speech is an option of course but he knows it's too intimate a thing to ask of you now), those fools found you first and treasured you when he made the awful, idiotic mistake of thinking you boring so of course you would see him in the same way. Of course you would feel safer asking things of Leona, he's the one who saved you while Jade was helping Azul drown you and it's not like he did much to make you see him when you stumbled into the Lounge running away from Jamil. You asked Leona for help, you came to them by accident, and Floyd was the one who got to carry you. Something he definitely didn't make fun of him of him for being jealous about. "Ya got to wake your mate up and see what they looked like sleepin' wasn't that nice?" Oh how he hard he wanted to punch his brother for that. So he did. It made him feel much better.
It takes time but he manages to weave his way into your orbit. He gets to see more of you, and he feels conflicted. The octotrio has gotten to see a lot of humanity, and they feel like they have enough of a grasp on them to conduct their business. That's something that certainly contributed to his thinking of you as boring of course but well. The more he sees of you now the more he realizes how little he really knows about humanity and the surface, he might not see the appeal of the surface world but he sees the appeal of you. Still he knows he wouldn't be happy if he stayed on it forever, how could he possibly ask the same of you? There's barely any sunlight under the water and humans need that to survive... he's done his research on corners of the internet he would have just laughed at before he fell for you and he knows what they say. That humans and merfolk only seldom stay together in the way that he wants, that they find his sort of merfolk to be terrifying. It can't help that he was your enemy at first can it...
I sort of like the idea that Yuu's interest in the less than human looking boys would be considered weird. The concept of a monsterfucker isn't foreign exactly but a monster-marry-and-raise-a-family-er is. There is a difference between a relationship and a sexual fantasy and Yuu sees no reason they can't have both, to the chagrin of damn near everyone around them. So it makes you sad to see him hide himself away from you and wonder why he hates his own beauty so much. He keeps his teeth from you, tries to hide his merform too and you just don't understand why. His bioluminescence takes your breath away and fills you with such soft stirrings of attraction you cry into your pillows and write 10 more pages about how desperately you want to drown yourself for just one chance with him! But he's running away from you and now Azul tells you he's going to be out of commission for a solid week with a sigh that you know is theatrical but still worries you. So you confront Jade about it and he seems almost sick, unable to control his transformation as he displays for you winding around the bubble that keeps you breathing outside of Octavinelle's dorm. The lights take your breath away long before he breeches the bubble to press up against you and moans somewhere deep into his throat letting his instincts guide him for just a few blissful seconds before he flops back with a stammer because oh no, not like this never like this please forgive him and run back to-
He's not expecting to be pulled back, you look as hungry as he feels as you guide him to your neck and whine something about how you need him when he's the one supposed to be saying that and scream in radiant joy when he bites. You are trying to wrap around him, to grind into him, babbling in frustration trying to scratch at his shoulders for a grip so you can wind your legs tighter around him-
He pushes the bubble away from the entrance and steers it haphazardly back, there's a place for this. Safe, secluded, and warm he made sure to pick one where a bit of sunlight could still reach the sandy floors and fuel you as he finally takes what you were always willing to give. Slowly and softly until he has you relaxed into his trap and then oh so gently for all the time after.
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remarcely · 2 days
Text
Something was itching me about Kipperlilly as a character for a while that I couldn't place down but I just got it.
There is so much of a connection between her storyline and the radicalization a white suburban kid can have to something like white supremacy that it's not even that deep, it's surface level.
Think about it:
She has a strong hatred for a minority kid in her school because he's got great grades and is viewed as a hero
She's envious of the hardships he's gone through and starts hating her family for being so 'normal' (a lot of white people can feel angry about their identity and what they think is a lack of a culture because they 'don't feel oppressed enough' to justify their own feelings of unfairness)
She takes all that anger and infects the people around her, hurting them and 'radicalizing' a few others
Is so insistent that this random kid had an unfair start because of his family situation that she wants to permanently change the bylaws in her school so he's put at a crazy disadvantage, just so she feels like she has an upper hand (think of racist people being mad that there's more POC going to college and crying that they're only getting in because they're a minority, ignoring the real work those students put it despite the disadvantages they might have faced)
She doesn't do any self introspection, doesn't decide to put more effort into her grades or personal relations, she takes that hatred and lets it poison her from the inside out. She rants about fairness when she doesn't put the work in and chooses to despise the people that do, just because they're not as miserable as her.
Her guidance counselor doesn't know how to combat that anger because he doesn't agree with her politics, a creepy adult in her life recognizes her hate and takes advantage of it to stir up the flames, we don't even see her parents but it's safe to say they're not exactly involved or watching her.
I don't know, I'm just annoyed because I keep seeing people say 'if you hate Kipperlilly that's just misogyny' as if she is not a genuinely hate-able character.
You can hate a woman for being evil, you're allowed.
And on the whole 'redemption' thing, sure that's entirely possible but let's face it. You cannot force someone to change, that's not how redeeming yourself works, you have to want it. Kipperlilly has no desire to change because she believes she is right. What use is it to her to abandon a worldview that suits desires her so well?
There was no way that could have been covered in an epilogue well enough to justify it and do you really think all the people that had their lives ruined and were literally murdered (Lucy, Oisin, Ivy, Ruben, Mary Ann, Buddy, etc.) would be bending over backwards to check on their killer?
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sethsclearwater · 2 days
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weird thought but i went in to get my iud and my friends found out how that worked and were SHOCKED, imagine one of the boys finding out how you got your iud and looking at you like you’re crazy and asking all these questions bc you went through all that 😭
"why are we whispering?" paul asked as he stepped into emily's cottage, his question coming in response to emily almost immediately shushing him when he stepped through the threshold of her entryway.
"she literally just fell asleep, let her sleep for a little bit before you wake her up. she's been having cramps all morning," she explained, also keeping her voice quiet as she stirred some honey into the raspberry tea she had just finished brewing for you.
"cramps? she said she just had to go to the gynecologist," paul started, peeking around the corner into the living room to see your sleeping figure curled up on the pullout couch with one of emily's quilts thrown over you.
"to get an iud," emily added, figuring you would've explained what was going on a little better to your imprinter but apparently not because paul's eyebrows furrowed as he turned his attention back to emily who pulled out a chair at the table to sit for a few minutes while she waited for the tea to cool a bit.
"why would that give her cramps?" he asked, coming to sit in the chair next to her so they could continue their whispering.
"did she not explain any of this to you?" emily asked, muffling her laughter when paul shook his head, clearly clueless about what was happening, "that's a pretty painful procedure, paul," she explained, quietly laughing again when paul immediately looked guilty.
despite the fact that you'd told him you didn't need him there when you got the iud inserted, he definitely felt like he should've been a bit more pushy when it came to being there for you after knowing how painful the whole thing was going to be.
"she's gonna have cramps for a few days but she'll be fine. do you wanna bring her the tea? she was asking for you a little bit ago," she suggested, sliding the steaming mug across the wooden table to your imprinter who gladly took it with a nod.
"thanks em," he shot her a quick smile before he was getting up so he could bring the tea over to you. despite how big he was, he managed to be pretty quiet as he stepped over to the pullout couch, setting the mug down on the side table before he sat down on the bed next to you, "hey princess," he murmured, gently running his hand up and down your side soothingly to see if you'd wake up a bit for him.
sure enough, you let out a quiet whine before you were reaching up to blearily knuckle at your eyes, "paul," you breathed out a sigh of relief, rolling over so you could rest your head in his lap.
"you okay?" he asked, deciding again bombarding you with questions about why you didn't give him all the details on your iud before you actually had the procedure done.
you hummed, eyes falling closed again as you settled in his lap, "not great," you mumbled, already beginning to drift off again as you slid your hand over his lap to interlace your fingers with his free hand.
paul let out a soft sigh, leaning down to press his lips to your temple, "you wanna go back to sleep?" he asked, already knowing the answer so he helped you tug the quilt up a bit so you could get comfy before drifting off again.
"you're staying here, right?" you whispered, cracking a tiny smile when he squeezed your hand.
"i'll be here as long as you want me princess," he reassured, soothingly running his other hand up and down your side again as you drifted back off.
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moondustpugh · 2 days
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Okey, I just saw your re-post of the music video of expresso by Sabrina Carpenter. And it occurred to me (bc you do a great job basing fics on songs) that you should write a fic of Joe head over heals for reader based on the song of expresso. Just giving you and idea, if you don't want to is totally Okey ❤️
Espresso
Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader
Summary: Joe's thinking about you every night. Is it that sweet? You guess so.
Author's Note: To celebrate 300 followers, here's a little gift. Thank you all for the love! Currently, I have been obsessed with this song and Sabrina. So, I'm so glad that you requested this! Thank you for this! Enjoy! :)
Disclaimer: 18+, smut
Wordcount: 2.1K
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It was midnight. 
Joe had been tossing and turning for about an hour already, and he couldn’t seem to sleep at all. He took a deep breath and turned his body so that he was laying on his back and gazed up at the ceiling. The light from the lamp post outside slightly reflected through the crack of his window curtains. The night was quiet, and his mind kept pondering about the thought of you. 
“You’re so beautiful, you know that?” Joe whispered through your bare skin as he left repeated kisses on your bare back. 
You giggled softly, looking over your shoulder. You were laying on your stomach, and Joe had moved himself closer to you. His fingers gently tugging on the duvet to expose your bare back, his lips finding your soft skin. He planted soft kisses all over your back, his long lashes tickled your skin as his fingers stroked your back softly. 
“I can’t get enough of you, I swear.” Joe murmured. 
Chuckling softly, you turned your body to face him. Joe hovered over you as you pulled the duvet closer to your chest. He grinned happily as he leaned down and kissed you softly. His hands slowly slid the duvet away from your naked body and his hands roamed your sides. A small moan escaped your lips as he parted from the kiss and trailed his lips down and traced the line of your jaw. Then, his lips found your neck as he sucked on the skin lightly, making you moan again in his ear. 
“God, I love that sound.” He murmured through the kiss. 
“Hmm…” Smiling through the kiss, you curled your fingers through his hair and pulled him down close to you. 
Joe pressed his face on your chest, planting a soft kiss on it. If anyone would ask him, he would prefer to stay in your arms forever. He could happily stay here and just indulge in every part of you. However, that was not how life works. So now, he was laying in his bed alone and couldn’t sleep at night because all he could think about was you. All he could think about was your soft skin under his touch. The sounds you would make in his ear, and your soft lips on his skin and his lips. 
God, he was so head over heels. 
He didn’t even realize it until now. You were running in his mind 24/7 and when he tried to push the thought of you away, he only missed you even more. Grabbing his phone from the bedside table, he saw that it was 12:30 am already. Pursing his lips, he opened up his messages and stared at the screen for a moment. 
Still awake?
He sent the message and waited. After a few minutes, he saw the three bubbles popping up on the screen. A smile immediately tugged on his lips. 
You were working late because you had some reports that still needed to finish. Your mind has been somewhere else, and you have been trying so hard not to stress too much about your work. Though, here you were up late and finishing up reports for work. When your phone vibrated next to you on your desk, and you saw Joe’s name appear on your screen, you immediately grinned happily. You needed a little distraction after a long day.
Still working. Why are you still awake?
The text message that you sent to Joe sent a warm feeling in his stomach as he smiled at your text. 
Can’t sleep. I can’t stop thinking about you. 
Biting your lower lip, you grinned at his message. You couldn’t help but think how the last two months that you have been seeing Joe, you have been so happy. You didn’t even care about the fact that your friends kept telling you to be careful because he was an actor. That he might just immediately change his mind and find someone else. Though, that wasn’t what it was at all. 
From the way he kept calling you every night, you didn’t have the time to feel insecure at all. He kept telling you that he was always thinking about you, and he couldn’t even sleep because he only wanted to be next to you. 
He was too sweet. 
You couldn’t relate to the desperation that your friends would act when it came to their boyfriends. 
Aww! :( Want me to come over? 
You bit your nails, grinning cheekily as you waited for him to answer. Joe, who immediately sat up on his bed, reached over to turn his lamp on. He stared at your text and then shifted his eyes towards his clock on his bedside table. 
Yes, please. 
He stared at the text for a moment before deleting it. What the fuck was wrong with him? Why was he acting like a 16 year old boy? At his big age too. He couldn’t help but chuckle at himself for acting so stupid over you. Rubbing his forehead softly, he stared at his screen and didn’t know what to reply to your text. He never acted like this before, not even with his exes. He didn’t know what it was that he couldn’t seem to stop thinking about you. He couldn’t sleep because of you. He kept thinking about how beautiful you were. He kept thinking how smart you were and such a hard worker. He couldn’t really describe it, but he was just so deep in his feelings for you since you two had started seeing each other. He was feeling so drunk of you like he had drunk ten espresso shots every night before bed. 
It’s okay. It’s late. Maybe I’ll see you tomorrow?
He typed the text message and sent it to you. He was right though. It was literally past midnight, and he was bothering you because he couldn’t sleep. 
What an idiot. 
Exhaling a sharp breath, he set his phone down on his bedside table and gazed up at the ceiling again. After a few minutes of silence and no reply, he figured you had fallen asleep. His mind wandered back again at the thought of you. 
“Don’t be cheeky.” Joe laughed, pressing his face on your neck.
You had told him a dirty joke, and he couldn’t stop laughing. The way he was literally hooked with your humor all the time. The one little joke made him all flushed and flustered that he was hiding his face from you.
“That’s not fair. Don’t hide your cute face from me.” You grinned, lifting his head and cupping his face between your hands.
Joe’s chocolate button eyes sparkled as he gazed down at you with a loving smile. You loved seeing him like this, and you certainly love the fact that you could make him act like this. 
Sighing, Joe closed his eyes and pushed the memory away. 
He needed to sleep. 
This was getting ridiculous. 
Pulling the duvet closer to him, Joe settled himself comfortably in his bed and closed his eyes. He forced himself to really sleep and as soon as he started drifting off, he felt the mattress of the empty side of his bed dip. For a moment, he thought he was just dreaming. Then, familiar arms wrapped around his torso, and he knew exactly who it was even if his eyes were closed. 
He was thanking his little stars that he gave you that spare key for his flat.
“It’s late.” He murmured, holding in his smile as he pulled you closer to his body. 
You let out a soft approving hum, planting a soft kiss on his cheek. Even in the dark, you could see his beautiful facial features as you softly stroked his cheek with your fingers. 
“You can’t sleep lately.” You whispered. “I’m worried about that.”
“It’s your fault, you know.” Joe teased.
You laughed softly, moving yourself on top of him, straddling his hips. 
“Yea?” You trailed kisses on the line of his jaw and then down his neck. 
Joe had to bite his lower lip to stop himself from moaning. He swore if he was dreaming right now, he would hate his brain in the morning for giving this much of a vivid dream about you. He was already folding for you, and his brain was now betraying him even more? 
This was so foul of his dreams to do to him. 
“Yes.” Joe gasped the word as you ran your hands down his bare chest. “I think I’ve gone mad.”
You smiled through his skin as his fingers curled around the strands of your hair as you kissed his bare chest. You loved that you could wrap him up around your finger, and he would just fold under every kiss you left on his skin. You never had anyone act like this over you, and you were enjoying every minute of it. 
He was adorable like this. 
“Hm…” You smiled, grinding against his hard member that was between your legs. “I can help you lose your mind even more.”
Joe’s fingers immediately curled at the back of your head, pulling you down for a hungry kiss. Smiling, you giggled softly through the kiss as he tugged on your shirt and pulled it over your head. Soon, he was tugging on your pants too and it joined the rest of your clothes on the floor. 
You reached your hand down to grab his member, wrapping your fingers around it and slowly slid himself inside of you. Both of you gasped softly as you helped him thrust inside of you. His lips were sloppily kissing you, his tongue licking your bottom lip. 
“Shit…” Joe groaned softly as he trailed kisses down your neck. 
Your hands found his headboard as your pace quickened, and it only made Joe moan louder as he found his lips on your nipple, sucking on it softly. 
“Ah—Joe.” You arched your back as he moved deeper inside of you. 
He could hear your voice sounding distorted and far away as he continued to suck your nipple and then trailed his lips up on your neck, sucking the skin softly there. He wasn’t the kind of man that loved to leave a love mark, but he couldn’t help but leave one on your neck and then on your chest. You moaned softly as you leaned down and buried your face on his neck, feeling your walls tightened around him. 
“Love, you’re so tight.” He moaned. 
You kissed him hungrily as he thrusted faster inside of you, your legs trembling and feeling the pleasure build up in your stomach. Joe had forgotten everything around him. He had forgotten what time it was. He had forgotten about the fact that this all started because he couldn’t sleep because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. 
You were here. 
You were really here. 
You were in his arms, and you were making him forget his name. He could feel the pleasure build up in his stomach as he flipped the both of you over, and he was hovering over you. He thrusted deeper and faster inside of you, your toes were curling and your nails were scratching down his bare back. 
“Come for me.” You whispered in his ear, making Joe tremble from the way your voice sounded in his ear. 
He usually was the one who was able to make his exes feel like this but with you, he was weak. He would do anything for you. He never felt this way about anyone before. With shaky hands, he reeled you in his arms and pressed your body against his flushed one. 
“Right there, baby.” You moaned in his ear. “Don’t stop.”
You gasped, your nails digging into his skin deeper as pleasure crashed over the both of you. Stars exploding at the back of your eyes as you screamed his name. Both of your bodies shuddered, both panting together as Joe collapsed his heavy body against yours. 
“Holy shit.” Joe cursed under his breath, still panting. “You’re literally amazing.” 
You smiled, trying to catch your breath. You stroked his curly hair away from his sweaty forehead and planted a soft kiss there. 
“Now, you could sleep.” You joked, making Joe scoff at your little comment. 
“No.” He whispered, pressing his face on your neck and nibbled on the skin lightly. “We’re gonna be up all night.”
You grinned widely, flipping the both of you over so you were on top of him again. 
“Hmm… Don’t challenge me.” You smiled deviously under the dark. 
“You’re the one who’s been keeping me up all night, so don’t challenge me.” Joe retorted back. 
You laughed softly, kissing him hungrily again and grabbing the duvet from behind you. Covering the both of you with the sheet, Joe tangled his fingers through your hair as you both blissfully enjoyed each other’s flushed bodies against each other. 
Time had frozen, and Joe didn’t care if he needed to be up early tomorrow morning. You were literally the espresso shot that could keep him up all day and night. 
Somehow, that was enough for him. 
********
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I was thinking about the Pasadena strawberry festival I used to go to as a kid, and now I want a reader who is super excited for like a local fair and drags Price along with her to go on rides and stuff. It could be fluffy, or it could dissolve into something sticky and smutty. :3
MDNI
Ever since your stressful ordeal, you and John had made excuse after excuse to get off base. Now that Makarov was rotting in the cold Russian ground, John looked as if he could finally breathe. Those first two weeks had been like a fever dream. four flights, two buses, and an Uber ride home all led to the longest hibernation session of your life.
You'd fallen asleep together on a bare mattress, not even bothering to put the fitted sheet over it. He covered you with his body, trapping you beneath him protectively, just as he'd done in your safehouse, unwilling to compromise even now that every house was safe. It seemed like you'd slept for days. Soap called, Ghost sent a few texts, and Gaz dropped by to leave you with some lo mein, but for the most part, they knew you needed rest. And time.
When you finally emerged from your cave, John Price looked like a new man. His eyes seemed brighter, and the worry that creased his forehead smoothed itself like melting ice, thawing him from the inside out.
You knew he was almost cured when he brought home two tickets to the local Strawberry Fest, his eyes twinkling and his belly hungry for strawberry funnel cake fries.
"C'mon, missus. I'll even ride the ferris wheel with you. If I pay the bloke at the bottom, maybe he'll stop it long enough for me to get my hands dirty, huh?"
He teased you, lifting up your dress to squirm a hand inside of your panties, chasing you when you laughed and wrenched yourself away.
The festival was everything good about summer. The weather was bright and clear, the breeze was cool, and the strawberry cider you were drinking was going straight to your head.
John had made a beeline for the funnel cake stand, and as you sat on a grassy knoll together, you let him feed you slices of strawberries covered in light clouds of cream. As you watched the crowd of people milling about, dragging their screaming children, kissing and laughing and eating and dancing, you finally understood the weight of what you had done.
You knew, while you were working, but your hatred for Makarov had blinded you to the truth. The truth was that normal people needed you. They couldn't protect themselves. They would never even realize the danger they were in. It was up to you to stand in its way.
You wrapped your arm around John's wide bicep and planted a kiss on his shoulder, enjoying his messy chewing, wiping off the powdered sugar from his mustache, praying you had bought him some time. Praying that you could be with the normal people for a while, until the next time they needed protecting.
You wanted to see him at peace, and if this was it, then it was heaven.
"C'mon, love. You ready to go for a ride?"
You cast your eyes up at the huge ferris wheel, watching the great machine lift its riders up into the bright sky. John traced your knee with his fingertips, pressing his warm palm further and further up your dress until it was almost indecent. You leaned into him, spreading your legs just a bit so that his hand could travel even further, enjoying the look of shock on his face as you did.
"Hope we don't get stuck up there," you joked.
He smiled, squeezing the inside of your thigh,
"I wonder how much that costs."
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