#and i noticed this last year but she started to brush my shoulder or back when she walks past me and says hi

[isak-dot-gov]

Christmas Arguments

Pairing: Nika Mühl x Reader

Word count: 1082

Summary: After an argument on Christmas Eve, Nika and her wife wake up to a tense Christmas morning, skipping their usual gift-opening tradition.

My Masterlist :)

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The argument had started over something small, as arguments often do. A joking suggestion to skip visiting your parents for Christmas dinner from Nika spiraled into a clash of stubbornness and miscommunication. By the time you both went to bed, the festive mood was replaced by silence and turned backs. It was the first time in years that you and Nika hadn’t said “I love you” before falling asleep.

Christmas morning was usually your favorite—a tradition of unwrapping gifts together, snuggling in pajamas, and enjoying the quiet intimacy of your little family before the whirlwind of visiting relatives. But this morning was different. The weight of last night lingered, an unspoken tension filling the air as you woke up and began your day.

Nika stirred beside you, her hand reaching out instinctively, but you had already slipped out of bed. Her touch might have softened you if you’d let it, but your pride held you back. Instead, you busied yourself getting ready, skipping the matching holiday PJs you’d picked out weeks ago and opting for something simple and practical. If she wanted to avoid fixing things, so would you.

As you applied a quick swipe of makeup in the bathroom, Nika appeared in the doorway. Her hair was tousled from sleep, and the usual twinkle in her eye was dim.

“Are we... not doing presents this morning?” she asked hesitantly.

You paused but didn’t turn around. “We’ll be late to my parents’ house if we stop to do all that.”

Her lips parted as though to say more, but she stopped herself. With a small nod, she left you alone, and a pang of guilt threatened to crack your resolve. But you pushed it aside, determined to hold onto your frustration.

The car ride to your parents’ house was painfully quiet. Normally, you’d be laughing and singing along to Christmas music, stealing glances at each other and sneaking kisses at stoplights. Today, Nika’s hands were tight on the wheel, and her jaw was set as she focused on the road. You sat stiffly in the passenger seat, arms crossed, staring out the window at the snow-dusted landscape.

When you arrived, the warmth of your family’s welcome felt like stepping into another world. Hugs were exchanged, compliments about the decorations were made, and the cheerful chaos of Christmas unfolded around you. You and Nika played your parts well, smiling and laughing when needed. But beneath the surface, the tension between you was a palpable undercurrent.

Nika stayed close to you, as she always did, her hand occasionally brushing against yours. But instead of making your heart flutter as it usually would, it only reminded you of the gap between you. Still, your family didn’t seem to notice. The two of you had always been good at keeping disagreements private.

The day dragged on, each stolen glance and awkward silence adding to the emotional weight. When it was finally time to leave, you both sighed in unison, though for different reasons. You were exhausted from pretending everything was fine; Nika seemed simply exhausted.

The drive home was darker, quieter. The festive lights along the streets seemed muted, the twinkling reds and greens mocking the mood in the car. Nika’s hands gripped the steering wheel tightly, and her occasional sighs filled the silence. You stared out the window, trying to ignore the nagging feeling that this fight had gone too far.

When you pulled into the garage, you reached for the door handle, ready to escape into the house and avoid another tense exchange. But before you could open the door, Nika’s voice stopped you.

“Wait.”

It was soft, almost broken, and it froze you in place. You turned slowly to find her still in her seat, her head bowed and shoulders trembling. Her hands gripped her knees, and when she looked up, her eyes shimmered with unshed tears.

“Please don’t go,” she said, her voice cracking.

Your breath hitched at the sight of her vulnerability. “Nika—”

“I can’t do this,” she interrupted, her words tumbling out in a rush. “I feel like I’m losing you, and it’s killing me. You’ve been so distant all day, and I don’t know how to fix it. I don’t even know if I can.” Her voice broke on the last word, and a tear slipped down her cheek.

Your heart shattered. “What? Nika, no,” you said, reaching out to touch her arm. “You’re not losing me. Why would you think that?”

She let out a shaky breath, her hands covering her face. “Because I messed up last night, and instead of talking to me, you shut me out. You didn’t even look at me this morning. I thought maybe… maybe you didn’t want to be with me anymore.”

Her words hit you like a punch to the chest. You hadn’t meant for your actions to hurt her this deeply. The anger you’d clung to felt trivial now, and all you could see was the woman you loved breaking down in front of you.

“Oh, Nika,” you whispered, moving closer. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel like that. I was just hurt and being petty. I thought if I ignored you, you’d understand how upset I was. But I never—never—want you to think I don’t want to be with you. You’re my everything.”

She sniffled, looking up at you with tear-filled eyes. “I’m so sorry for last night. I hate fighting with you, especially at Christmas. I just… I love you so much, and I don’t know what I’d do if I ever lost you.”

You cupped her face in your hands, wiping away her tears with your thumbs. “You’re never going to lose me, Nika. I love you too much for that. We’re going to fight sometimes, but we’ll always come back to each other. I promise.”

She nodded, her hands coming up to cover yours. “I promise, too.”

You leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to her lips, and the tension that had built up over the past 24 hours melted away. When you pulled back, her small smile warmed your heart.

The rest of the evening was spent curled up on the couch, finally opening your gifts to each other. The weight of the day lifted with each laugh and whispered “I love you,” and by the time you went to bed that night, you were both at peace, knowing that your love was strong enough to weather any storm—even Christmas arguments.

[sillyengineerperson]

Some people still need to learn to ask about BOUNDARIES before you potentially cross them!

[hellobykittys]

𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐒𝐄 ✦ 𝐋𝐇⁴⁴

SUMMARY: Upon discovering you’re pregnant with your boyfriend’s child, you find yourself spiraling into a wave of insecurities, fearing his potential negative reaction and the impact it could have on your relationship. NOTES: English is not my first language, so there might be some writing mistakes. I apologize for that, and feel free to point out any improvements. PAIRING: Lewis Hamilton x Reader! Girlfriend. WARNING: Established relationship; mild angst; unplanned pregnancy. WC: 2.8k

MASTERLIST | THE (IM)PERFECT PLAN SERIE

It was the second time that day you found yourself leaning over the toilet, your stomach churning relentlessly. Breakfast and the light snack you’d had earlier—both meant to be simple—had already made their way there, and with each passing moment, your suspicions grew harder to ignore. Yet, you stubbornly refused to acknowledge what was right in front of you.

Two weeks had passed since your period was supposed to start, something completely out of the ordinary for you. Your cycle was always regular. In its place came the nausea and constant vomiting.

You didn’t know what to do. The thought of taking a test was too terrifying. It felt easier to pretend this was just a passing illness. After all, how could you possibly be pregnant? You and Lewis were always careful, taking every precaution.

“You need to take a test,” your friend Anne said as she held your hair back, preventing the mess from worsening.

“Anne, I don’t know if I want to know the answer.” You spoke between breaths, rising to rinse your mouth at the sink.

“Eventually, you’ll have to face it,” she said gently, her hand brushing over your back in a gesture of comfort. “If it’s true, you’re going to have to tell him.”

“I don’t even know if he wants to be with me, let alone a child. He’s going to hate this news.” Your tired, worried eyes stared back at you in the mirror. “I don’t know what to do.”

“He won’t hate it. He loves you, and I’m sure he’ll love having a child with you,” Anne said, trying to ease your anxiety. “Y/N, don’t believe what people say online. They just want to bring you down.”

“You don’t understand.” You turned to her, your eyes full of doubt. “We’ve never talked about it—about starting a family. Whenever the subject comes up, he changes it. At first, I thought it was because we’d only been together a short while, but now… I think he genuinely doesn’t want anything more serious.”

“But you’ve been together for two years! How could he not want something more serious?”

“He was with Nicole for seven years, and that wasn’t enough for him to marry her.” You lowered your head, your chest tightening. “Deep down, I think the media’s right. He probably just wants to stay free until the last day of his life. His whole world revolves around Formula 1. Family isn’t part of his plans. Only the eighth title matters.”

You took a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. The weight of your words felt unbearable, but you couldn’t stop thinking them. The fear that this was all a mistake, that Lewis simply wasn’t ready for more, consumed you.

Anne noticed your distress and stepped closer, her hand resting on your shoulder in a comforting gesture. “I know it seems hard right now, but you can’t make these decisions on your own. You have to talk to him. He deserves to know, and you deserve to hear what he has to say.”

You turned to face her, your expression reflecting the emotional storm you were caught in. “And if he doesn’t want it? If he tells me he’s not ready, that what we have isn’t enough? What am I supposed to do with this baby? With this… life?”

“Then you’ll deal with it in your own way. This isn’t about what he wants—it’s about what you want, what you need. He may be the person you love, but don’t forget who you are and what you deserve.”

Anne’s words echoed in your mind, but the truth still felt distant, shrouded in uncertainty. It felt like you were standing at a crossroads with your life taking a direction you’d never planned for. Lewis, with his fast-paced existence of racing, titles, and adrenaline, seemed worlds apart from your quiet longing for stability—perhaps even a family. Something you weren’t even sure he shared.

In the end, you knew you couldn’t avoid reality any longer. The test needed to be done. Procrastination wasn’t an option anymore. The fear was overwhelming, but the uncertainty hurt worse. And, above all, the result would only be the beginning. The real challenge would be telling Lewis.

“Will you do this with me?” Your voice came out softer than expected, almost a whisper filled with vulnerability. You looked at Anne, searching her expression for a strength you felt you’d lost. “I mean, will you buy the test and wait for the result with me?”

Anne smiled reassuringly, taking your hand in hers with a firm grip. “Of course. And if you prefer, we can do this at my apartment. No rush, no pressure.”

You shook your head in refusal. “I think it’s better to do it here. He’s not coming back today… probably not until tomorrow night. Maybe even later.” The emptiness of the house felt less oppressive when you spoke aloud, but the apprehension was still palpable. “I just need the courage to go to the pharmacy.”

Anne squeezed your hand, her eyes full of understanding. “You don’t have to do this alone. Let’s go together. Let’s get this over with.”

The trip to the pharmacy was quick, but each step felt like a monumental challenge. The way back home seemed even longer, with the weight of the small package in your bag growing heavier by the second. Back at the apartment, you locked yourself in the bathroom while Anne waited outside, offering encouraging words that barely penetrated the storm in your mind.

You held the test in trembling hands, your eyes scanning the instructions like they were an impossible puzzle. Time seemed to freeze as you waited for the result, the silence broken only by the relentless pounding of your heart.

When you finally looked at the small display, reality crashed over you like a tidal wave. Positive.

Your breath caught in your throat, tears welling up in your eyes as you stared at the lines that confirmed what you already suspected. Silent tears began to stream down your face as a flood of emotions—fear, anguish, and an inexplicable love for the new life now connected to you—washed over you.

“Well?” Anne’s soft, hesitant voice called from the other side.

You opened the door, holding the test in your trembling hand. Anne’s expression softened at the sight of your tears. She said nothing, simply pulling you into a tight embrace.

“What now?” you asked quietly, your voice laden with uncertainty.

Anne pulled back just enough to look into your eyes, her expression calm but firm. “Now you take a deep breath, Y/N. Then, you tell him. No matter the fear, no matter the doubts. He deserves to know, and you deserve to be heard.”

You nodded slowly, but the lump in your throat remained. Her words were logical, exactly what you needed to hear, but the fear still loomed, beating loudly in your chest. How would you tell Lewis? How would you find the words that would change both your lives forever?

“Anne…” Your voice came out shaky, barely a whisper, as you wrapped your arms around her tightly, searching for any fragment of comfort. “I’m so scared. What if he… what if he doesn’t want this baby?”

Anne sighed, her hand gently rubbing your back with patience. “Y/N, even if he doesn’t, which I honestly find hard to believe, you’ll move forward. You’re stronger than you think.” She pulled back just enough to meet your eyes, her gaze full of conviction. “If you want to have this baby, that’s all that matters. We’ll take care of it. I won’t leave you alone, ever.”

You closed your eyes, trying to absorb her words, but the weight of the situation still felt unbearable. “But what if he leaves me, Anne? What if he thinks this was a mistake? That I was careless?”

Anne cupped your face with both hands, forcing you to look at her. “He loves you. And even if the idea scares him at first, he’s a good man, Y/N. But more than anything, you need to remember that his love isn’t the only thing that matters here. What do you feel? What do you want? That matters, too.”

Her question hung in the air, echoing in your mind as you tried to find an answer. Deep down, you knew what you wanted. You loved Lewis with all your heart, and despite the fear consuming you, you already felt an inexplicable love for the life growing inside you. But bridging those two feelings felt impossible.

As you stared at the positive test sitting on the bedside table, your heart pounded relentlessly, racing with uncertainty. That tiny object seemed to carry the weight of all your doubts and fears. You knew you couldn’t put off talking to Lewis forever, but the thought of confronting him was paralyzing. Each passing second only tightened the knot in your throat.

He was supposed to return the following morning, giving you one night to organize your thoughts, find the right words, and somehow gather the courage that felt so far away. But now, as the reality began to settle in, you decided to push it aside for a while. You needed to distract yourself, to focus on taking care of yourself—and the baby you now carried.

In the kitchen, you started preparing something simple to eat. The thought of being responsible for another life made every small action feel significant. You couldn’t ignore your health or choices anymore. Everything you did was for two now. And though the anxiety still throbbed in your mind, there was a small, strange comfort in that realization.

You were slicing fruit when the sound of the front door opening suddenly broke the silence of the house. Your heart nearly stopped for a moment. He wasn’t supposed to be back until the next morning.

“Y/N?” Lewis’s voice echoed from the living room, heavy with exhaustion and surprise.

You turned to see him standing in the hallway, still holding his travel bag. He was dressed casually in a black jacket and his signature travel cap. His eyes locked on you, then shifted to the plate of fruit on the counter before softening into a smile.

“I decided to come back early. I couldn’t stop thinking about you.” He approached, leaving the bag by the wall to pull you into a warm hug. The heat of his body against yours brought immediate comfort—but also a new weight.

You weren’t ready. Not yet. But the moment seemed to have chosen him—or fate had.

“Are you okay?” Lewis asked, pulling back just enough to study your face. His expression was laced with concern.

“I’m… I’m fine. Just tired.” Your voice came out low, but you knew he would sense something was off. Lewis always did.

His brows furrowed slightly as he tilted his head, his gaze probing. “You sure? You seem a little distant.”

With him standing there, just a few steps away, the idea of telling him felt even more daunting. Fear wrapped itself around your chest, squeezing tighter and tighter. Fear that the news could change everything between you, fear that the love you shared wouldn’t be enough to face what was coming. So, for at least one more night, you decided to delay. Tomorrow would be the right time. Tonight, you just wanted to savor your last moment of peace with him—if everything changed afterward.

But the memory of the test sitting on the bedside table sent a fresh wave of panic through you. If Lewis went into the bedroom now, he’d see it. There was no way to hide it in time.

“Nothing’s wrong, love.” You forced a smile, leaning up to kiss him, his lips still warm from the chill outside. “Why don’t you sit down? I’ll take your bag and be right back, okay?”

Before you could grab his bag, Lewis held onto it firmly, shaking his head.

“You don’t need to do that. I can carry my own bag.” He smiled, the kind of smile that always made your heart flutter, and slung the strap back over his shoulder. “I’ll shower and then we can pick a movie, yeah?”

“No, seriously, let me.” You insisted, your voice slightly too quick. “You must be exhausted. Just relax, I’ll handle it.”

He raised an eyebrow, clearly noticing your unease, but didn’t argue further. “Y/N, I’m not made of glass. I can carry my own luggage.”

Without another word, you followed him to the bedroom, your heart racing with every step. Lewis placed his bag by the wardrobe but lingered, his gaze drifting back to you.

“You’re acting weird,” he commented with a small smile, though he didn’t press further. “I’ll take a quick shower and be back. Pick us a good movie.”

As soon as he entered the bathroom and the door closed, you let out the breath you had been holding and quickly made your way to the bedside table. With swift movements, you grabbed the test and hid it in the deepest drawer, pushing it down beneath a few papers. When you finished, the relief was immediate, but brief.

You left the room and returned to the kitchen, trying to distract yourself with anything else. You prepared a bowl of fruit and placed it on the counter, but your mind couldn’t help but drift back to the inevitable moment that was coming.

Minutes later, sensing something was off with Lewis’s delay, you decided to return to the bedroom. When you opened the door, your heart nearly stopped at the sight before you. Lewis was sitting on the bed, his eyes fixed on the pregnancy test he was holding in his hand.

“Lewis…” your voice came out weak, barely a whisper.

He looked up, and for a moment, you couldn’t read his expression. It wasn’t anger, but it wasn’t relief either. It was something in between—confusion, perhaps.

“How long have you known?” he asked, his voice low but firm.

The question hit you like a punch. “What? Lewis, I—”

“Were you hiding this from me?” He stood up, his brow furrowed in a mix of frustration and hurt. “Did you think you could handle this alone?”

“I didn’t… I just found out!” you retorted, feeling your eyes well up. “I didn’t even have time to think, to process. I was going to tell you, Lewis!”

But he didn’t seem to hear you. He ran his hands through his hair, clearly trying to organize his thoughts.

“I thought we were a couple, Y/N. That we trusted each other.”

Those words hit you cruelly, a blow to your vulnerability. “Lewis, I wasn’t hiding anything! I just… I didn’t have the courage to take the test until today. I needed a moment. A second to process what was happening to me.”

He paused, studying your face, his dark eyes softening as his anger dissolved into understanding. Finally, he shook his head, the weight of the tension lifting from his shoulders.

“When were you planning on telling me?” he asked, his voice quieter, but still firm.

“I was going to tell you tomorrow,” you rushed to explain, almost pleading for him to believe you. “I just… I didn’t know how to do it. Lewis, please, believe me.”

His expression changed completely. Without saying another word, he walked over and pulled you into a tight hug. The warmth of his body was comforting, but what struck you the most was the soft sound of a sob. He was crying.

“You should’ve told me as soon as you suspected,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. “I wanted to be here with you when you took the test.”

“Are… are you happy?” you asked hesitantly, the words coming out in a whisper full of doubt.

He pulled back slightly, cradling your face in his big, warm hands. A smile broke through the tears streaming down his face.

“Of course I’m happy, my love.” His voice was low, but full of conviction. “This baby is a piece of our love. How could I not be happy?”

You collapsed into his arms, your head resting on his strong chest as tears flowed freely down your face. The relief and love you felt in that moment were overwhelming.

“You have no idea how scared I was,” you confessed through sobs. “I was so afraid you wouldn’t want this baby… that you wouldn’t want me anymore.”

He held you even tighter, impossibly so, and kissed the top of your head, lingering in the gesture.

“I would never do that, Y/N. Never.” He sighed, his voice thick with emotion. “You mean everything to me. And now, we’re going to be a family. I just wish I’d been there with you from the start.”

His words were a balm, soothing the storms that had built in your heart over the past few weeks.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, still hidden against his chest.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he replied, gently stroking your hair. “We’re both learning. But now that I know… I promise you’ll never face any of this alone again.”

You stayed like that for long minutes, not needing any more words. The moment was just for the two of you, and nothing seemed more important than the future you were beginning to build together.

[pucksandpower]

Come Undone

Day 26 → Cum Marking 💋 Charles Leclerc

Warnings: 18+ content, dubious consent, and somnophilia

Kinktober Masterlist

Charles can’t remember the last time he’s been this agitated. The tension has been building for days, coiling around his chest like a tight wire, and it all seems to be connected to one thing — or rather, one person.

You.

He stands in the Ferrari garage, arms crossed, leaning against a wall with his eyes trained on you. You're talking with Lewis again. That familiar laugh escapes your lips, the one Charles loves, but now it grates against his nerves.

Lewis is close, too close, and Charles can’t help but notice the way Lewis’ hand brushes your arm as he talks. It’s subtle, probably innocent, but it still sends a spark of irritation through him.

“Everything alright?” Joris asks, coming to stand beside him. His tone is casual, but there’s a knowing look in his eyes.

Charles doesn’t answer immediately, jaw tight as he watches you laugh again at something Lewis says. “Yeah,” he replies, but his voice is strained, even to his own ears.

Joris raises an eyebrow, following his gaze. “You sure about that? You’ve been glaring at Lewis like he’s the second coming of 14-year-old Max.”

Charles lets out a huff of air, half-laugh, half-sigh. “I’m fine,” he insists, though he can’t tear his eyes away from the scene unfolding in front of him.

Joris just smirks, nudging him with his shoulder. “You know, if you stare any harder, you might just set him on fire.”

Charles finally looks at Joris, who is grinning like he’s thoroughly entertained by this. “I’m not-” he starts, but Joris cuts him off.

“You’re not what? Jealous? Possessive? Both?” Joris teases, but there’s no malice in it.

Charles sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “It’s just … he’s always around her.”

“Maybe because she’s your girlfriend and he’s trying to be friendly?” Joris suggests, but Charles shakes his head.

“There’s something about the way he looks at her. It’s not just friendly.”

Joris considers this, then shrugs. “Maybe. But you know, she’s with you. Not him. And she doesn’t seem to notice anything unusual, does she?”

Charles glances back at you, still deep in conversation with Lewis, completely unaware of the turmoil in his mind. “No,” he admits reluctantly. “She doesn’t.”

“Then maybe you’re overthinking it.” Joris claps a hand on his shoulder. “But if it’s bothering you this much, maybe you should talk to her.”

Charles frowns. “And say what? ‘Hey, I think my new teammate is flirting with you, can you please stop talking to him?’ That sounds ridiculous.”

Joris laughs. “It does when you say it like that. Just … I don’t know, make sure she knows how you feel about her. So there’s no room for doubt.”

Charles nods, but his eyes drift back to you. The way Lewis leans in slightly as he talks, the easy smile on his face … it’s driving him crazy. Joris is right — you’re with him, not Lewis, but that doesn’t stop the uneasy feeling gnawing at him.

“Thanks,” he says, though his voice lacks conviction.

“Anytime,” Joris replies, patting his shoulder before walking away, leaving Charles to stew in his thoughts.

He knows he should focus on the race tomorrow, but all he can think about is how Lewis seems to find every excuse to be near you. At first, he thought he was imagining it, reading too much into friendly interactions. But as the days went on, it became harder to ignore. The casual touches, the lingering looks, the way Lewis always seems to find you when Charles isn’t around … it’s all too much.

Charles doesn’t want to be that boyfriend — the one who’s insecure, who reads into things that aren’t there — but every instinct he has is screaming that Lewis is interested in you. And the worst part? You don’t even seem to notice.

He’s pulled from his thoughts by the sound of your voice. “Charles?”

He blinks, realizing you’re standing in front of him now, a concerned look on your face. Lewis is nowhere to be seen, and Charles feels a small surge of relief at that.

“Yeah?” He replies, trying to shake off the tension.

“You okay?” You ask, tilting your head slightly as you study his face. “You seem … off.”

He forces a smile, but it feels tight. “I’m fine.”

You don’t look convinced. “Are you sure? Because you’ve been acting weird for the past few days.”

He hesitates, wondering how much to tell you. Part of him wants to just brush it off, to avoid any potential conflict, but another part of him — the part that’s been simmering with jealousy and frustration — wants to tell you everything. Maybe Joris is right; maybe it’s better to be honest with you, to clear the air before this eats him alive.

“I’ve just … I’ve noticed how much time you’ve been spending with Lewis,” he says, trying to keep his tone neutral.

You blink, clearly surprised by the direction the conversation has taken. “Lewis? What do you mean?”

Charles rubs a hand over his face, feeling a little foolish now that he’s actually saying it out loud. “It’s just … he’s always around you, and it feels like he’s flirting with you. And I don’t like it.”

Your eyes widen slightly, then you frown. “Lewis isn’t flirting with me. He’s just being friendly.”

“Maybe,” Charles concedes, “but it doesn’t feel that way to me. He’s always touching you, always finding excuses to talk to you …”

You stare at him for a moment, then shake your head, a small smile playing on your lips. “You’re being ridiculous. Lewis is just … Lewis. He’s like that with everyone.”

Charles feels a flicker of irritation at how easily you dismiss his concerns. “Not like this,” he insists. “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.”

You sigh, crossing your arms over your chest. “And how does he look at me?”

“Like he wants something more,” Charles says, the words tumbling out before he can stop them.

There’s a beat of silence, and then you laugh — a short, incredulous sound. “You’re serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious!” Charles snaps, more frustrated by your reaction than anything else. “I know what I’m seeing, and it’s driving me crazy.”

Your smile fades, replaced by a look of confusion and something else — hurt, maybe? “Charles, I’m with you. I love you. Why would you think for a second that I would be interested in someone else?”

“It’s not that,” he says quickly, regretting his tone. “It’s not about you. It’s about him. I just … I don’t trust his intentions.”

You stare at him, and he can see the gears turning in your mind. “So you’re saying you don’t trust me?”

“No,” he replies, but the word comes out too quickly, too defensive. “That’s not what I’m saying at all.”

You sigh again, rubbing your temples. “Charles, I don’t know what you want me to say. I can’t control how other people act. And if Lewis really is flirting with me — which I don’t think he is — then he’s wasting his time because I’m with you. You’re the only one I want.”

He wants to believe you, and deep down, he does. But the jealousy is still there, a dark cloud that refuses to dissipate. “I just … I don’t like it,” he repeats, feeling like a broken record.

You step closer to him, reaching out to take his hand. “Then talk to me about it, okay? Don’t keep it bottled up until you’re this upset. We can work through it together.”

Charles squeezes your hand, grateful for the gesture even if the tension hasn’t fully left him. “I will. I promise.”

You smile softly, standing on your tiptoes to press a kiss to his cheek. “Good. Now, can we stop worrying about Lewis and focus on the race tomorrow?”

He nods, but his mind is already racing, thinking about what he can do to make sure Lewis knows you’re off-limits. It’s not enough to just talk to you about it, he needs to take action, to show both you and Lewis that you’re his and his alone.

After the race, he tells himself. After the race, he’ll do something to make it clear to everyone — including Lewis — that you belong to him.

And this time, he won’t hold back.

***

The hotel suite is quiet, save for the soft rustling of the pages as you flip through your book. Charles can hear it from where he stands near the window, staring out into the darkened city. The lights outside blur together, a sea of neon and streetlights that fail to hold his attention. All he can think about is you — lying in bed, lost in whatever story you're reading, completely unaware of the turmoil still swirling in his mind.

He turns away from the window, glancing over at you. The lamp on your nightstand casts a warm glow, illuminating the relaxed curve of your body under the sheets. Your face is serene, a small smile tugging at the corners of your lips as you read, and Charles feels a wave of affection that is quickly followed by a surge of something more primal, something that has been simmering under the surface all day.

He walks over to the dresser, where the hotel has placed a few empty glasses, neat and pristine in a row. He picks one up, the cool glass smooth against his fingertips, and his mind is already racing with thoughts of what he’s about to do. It feels a little crazy, maybe even a little wrong, but the idea has taken root, and he knows he won’t be able to shake it.

You don’t notice when he slips into the bathroom, the door clicking shut softly behind him. The light is harsh, and it jolts him slightly, making him take a deep breath as he stares at himself in the mirror. His reflection looks back at him, eyes dark with the need he’s been trying to suppress all day.

He sets the glass on the counter, steadying himself with another deep breath. His thoughts are consumed by you — by the way you laughed with Lewis, by how oblivious you seemed to the effect it had on him, by how badly he wants to remind you that you’re his.

Slowly, he reaches down, undoing the button on his pants. His hands are shaking slightly as he lowers them, along with his boxers, the cool air of the bathroom hitting his skin. He closes his eyes, letting out a shuddering breath as he wraps his hand around himself.

It doesn’t take much to get him going. He’s been half-hard all day, the tension of jealousy and desire building up inside him. His mind drifts back to the way you looked at him earlier, the concern in your eyes when you asked if he was okay. He thinks about how soft your skin is under his touch, how you feel when he’s inside you, how you moan his name in the dark.

His strokes are slow at first, deliberate, as he imagines you on the bed, waiting for him, completely unaware of what he’s doing. The thought only heightens his arousal, and he bites his lip to stifle a groan as his hand moves faster. He can picture it so clearly — coming back into the room, seeing you lying there, trusting him completely.

The pressure builds quickly, and he has to brace himself against the counter with his free hand, his breathing ragged as he nears the edge. He forces himself to keep quiet, to not alert you to what he’s doing, but it’s difficult when the pleasure is so intense, so all-consuming.

Finally, with a choked gasp, he spills into the glass, his body trembling as he comes down from the high. He stands there for a moment, catching his breath, before he carefully sets the glass down on the counter. The sight of his release, warm and viscous, in the clear glass sends a thrill through him, a reminder of what he’s about to do.

He cleans himself up quickly, adjusting his clothes and wiping the outside of the glass clean. Then, with one last look in the mirror, he picks up the glass and exits the bathroom.

You’re still in bed when he comes back, your book now closed and resting on your chest as you lie with your eyes shut. You look so peaceful, so relaxed, and he feels a rush of tenderness mixed with the lingering heat of his arousal.

He sets the glass on his nightstand, careful not to draw your attention to it. “You still awake?” He asks softly, moving closer to the bed.

“Mm-hmm,” you murmur, not opening your eyes.

He hesitates for a moment, then sits down on the edge of the bed. “You look tired,” he comments, reaching out to gently stroke your arm. “You should get some rest.”

You smile slightly, eyes still closed. “Just winding down. It’s been a long day.”

He nods, even though you can’t see it, his fingers tracing small circles on your skin. “I was thinking …” he starts, his voice low and careful. “Maybe I could give you a massage? Help you relax.”

You hum in response, a pleased sound that makes his heart skip a beat. “That sounds nice,” you reply, shifting slightly under the covers to give him better access to your back.

Perfect, he thinks. His plan is falling into place.

He reaches for the glass on the nightstand, his movements slow and deliberate so as not to alarm you. You’re still lying with your eyes closed, completely unaware of what he’s about to do, and the thought of it sends a fresh wave of excitement through him.

“Just relax,” he whispers, leaning over you as he carefully pulls the sheets down to expose your back. “I’ll take care of everything.”

You nod slightly, your trust in him evident, and it only fuels his determination. He dips his fingers into the glass, coating them in the warm cum before setting it back down. His heart races as he leans over you, his hand hovering above your skin for a moment before he finally makes contact.

The feeling of his release on your skin is electric, sending a jolt of arousal through him. He starts at the base of your spine, his fingers gliding smoothly over your skin, spreading the liquid across your back. You sigh softly, completely unaware of what he’s using, just enjoying the sensation of his touch.

He takes his time, his movements slow and deliberate as he works his way up your back, his fingers kneading the tension out of your muscles. The room is filled with the soft sounds of your breathing, the occasional murmur of contentment escaping your lips, and it drives him wild.

He leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear as he speaks. “How does that feel?” He asks, his voice rough with need.

“Good,” you reply, your voice sleepy and content. “Really good.”

He smiles, a mix of pride and possessiveness swelling in his chest. “Good,” he echoes, his hands still moving over your skin, spreading his mark across every inch of you.

His touch becomes firmer, more insistent, as he moves higher up your back. You shiver slightly under his hands, but still, you don’t open your eyes, completely trusting him. It’s intoxicating, the power he feels in this moment, knowing that he’s marking you as his in a way that no one else ever could.

He dips his fingers back into the glass, gathering more of the cum, and starts working on your shoulders. The thought of his release mingling with the natural scent of your skin is almost too much for him to handle, and he has to take a steadying breath to keep from losing control.

You let out a small moan as his fingers dig into a particularly tight spot, and he can’t resist leaning down to press a kiss to the back of your neck. “You’re mine,” he whispers against your skin, the words slipping out before he can stop them.

You don’t respond, and for a moment, he worries that he’s gone too far, that you’ve realized what he’s doing. But then you sigh contentedly, shifting slightly under his hands, and he realizes that you’re still half-asleep, blissfully unaware of what’s really happening.

The realization sends a thrill through him, and he resumes his ministrations with renewed fervor, his hands moving over your skin with purpose. He wants to cover every inch of you, to make sure that there’s no part of you that hasn’t been touched by him, that hasn’t been marked as his.

He’s lost in the sensation, in the feeling of your skin under his hands, in the thought of what he’s doing. The rest of the world fades away, leaving just the two of you in this moment, and he knows that he’s never wanted you more than he does right now.

Finally, when he’s satisfied that he’s covered every inch of your back, he pulls back slightly, his hands still resting on your shoulders. He’s breathing heavily, his heart racing, and it takes a moment for him to gather his thoughts, to come back to reality.

You’re still lying there, your eyes closed, completely unaware of what he’s done. He feels a rush of possessiveness, a fierce need to protect you, to keep you all to himself. He knows that what he’s done is risky, that it could backfire if you ever found out, but in this moment, he doesn’t care.

You’re his, and now there’s no doubt about it.

He leans down to press another kiss to your shoulder, his lips lingering on your skin for a moment before he pulls back. “You should get some sleep,” he says softly, his voice low and rough.

You murmur something in response, too tired to form coherent words, and he smiles, pulling the sheets back up over you. He watches as you settle into the pillows, a contented sigh escaping your lips, and he feels a surge of satisfaction.

He moves to the other side of the bed, slipping under the covers beside you. You instinctively curl into his side, your head resting on his chest, and he wraps an arm around you, holding you close. The warmth of your body against his is soothing, grounding him after everything that’s happened tonight.

As you nestle closer, you mumble, “Whatever lotion you used feels amazing.”

He swallows hard, his heart racing all over again, but he manages to keep his voice steady. “I’m glad you liked it,” he whispers, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head.

You sigh contentedly, already drifting off to sleep, completely unaware of the truth. And as Charles holds you in his arms, he can’t help but smile, knowing that tonight, he’s left a mark on you that only the two of you will ever know.

***

The sun has barely begun to rise, casting a soft, golden light over the Monaco skyline as Charles stands in the kitchen of your shared apartment. The place is quiet, the kind of peaceful that only comes in the early hours of the morning. He’s dressed in a simple t-shirt and shorts, barefoot on the cool tile floor as he busies himself with breakfast.

There’s a calmness to this routine, a tranquility that he cherishes. It’s just the two of you here, no prying eyes, no tension — just the comfort of home. But even in this serene setting, a part of him is buzzing with anticipation, a subtle undercurrent of the possessiveness that he’s been feeling more and more of lately.

On the counter, among the fresh fruit and yogurt, sits a small glass, nearly identical to the one he used just a few nights ago. It’s filled with the same substance, warm and opaque, waiting for the moment when he can mix it into something that you’ll consume. The thought of it sends a thrill through him, a reminder of the secret he’s been keeping, the private bond he’s been nurturing in ways only he knows.

He’s almost lost in thought when he hears the soft pad of your footsteps approaching from the hallway. You enter the kitchen, still sleepy-eyed and wrapped in the comfort of an oversized sweatshirt, your hair slightly tousled from sleep. There’s something about seeing you like this, so natural and unguarded, that makes his chest tighten with affection — and with that familiar, possessive need.

“Morning,” you murmur, your voice still soft with sleep as you come up behind him.

He turns to greet you, a smile already playing on his lips. “Morning, mon amour,” he replies, pulling you into his arms. You melt into his embrace, your head resting against his chest, and he holds you there for a moment, savoring the feeling of you in his arms, so close, so his.

You’re warm against him, the scent of your skin mingling with the fresh coffee he’s brewed, and it’s all he can do to keep from letting his hands wander, to keep from pulling you even closer. But he knows he has a plan to stick to, so he leans down to kiss the top of your head instead, a soft, lingering gesture that makes you hum contentedly.

“I was thinking about making smoothies,” he says, his voice casual as he pulls back just enough to look down at you. “You want one?”

You nod, eyes still half-closed as you lean into him, not fully awake yet. “Yeah, that sounds nice,” you murmur, your hand coming up to rest on his chest, fingers idly tracing the fabric of his shirt.

He gives you a reassuring squeeze before gently disentangling himself from you, turning back to the counter. “Sit tight. I’ll have it ready in a few minutes.”

You wander over to the kitchen island, pulling up a stool and resting your head on your folded arms, watching him with sleepy eyes. He glances over his shoulder at you as he starts gathering ingredients — the yogurt, the fresh berries, a banana — carefully setting each one on the counter in front of him.

“You sure you’re awake enough for this?” He teases, his tone light, though his mind is already on the next step, on the glass sitting just within reach.

“Barely,” you admit with a small laugh, your eyes closing as you rest your chin on your arms. “But I’ll manage. I could use something refreshing.”

He grins, a soft chuckle escaping him as he reaches for the blender. “This should do the trick, then.” He starts adding the ingredients, layer by layer, taking his time to make sure everything is just right. The kitchen fills with the sound of fruit hitting the blender, the soft clink of the yogurt spoon against the glass, the low hum of the machine as he blends it all together.

And then, with a practiced ease, he reaches for the glass, the one that holds his release, and adds its contents to the mix. The thick liquid disappears into the smoothie, blending seamlessly with the other ingredients, leaving no trace of what he’s done. It’s the perfect secret, hidden in plain sight, and the knowledge of it sends a shiver of excitement through him.

He caps the blender, turning it on once more to make sure everything is thoroughly mixed, and then pours the smoothie into a tall glass. It’s a vibrant, inviting shade of pink from the berries, the kind of drink that promises sweetness and freshness, and he can’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction as he walks it over to you.

“Here you go,” he says, setting the glass in front of you with a smile.

You sit up, blinking your eyes open as you reach for the glass. “Thank you,” you say, your voice still soft with sleep, but there’s a warmth in your tone that makes his heart swell.

He watches, his breath catching slightly, as you take a sip. Your lips wrap around the straw, and for a moment, he can’t tear his eyes away from the sight of you drinking, the subtle curve of your mouth, the way your throat moves as you swallow. It’s such a simple thing, but knowing what’s in that glass, what you’re consuming, makes it feel like so much more.

“Mmm,” you murmur after a moment, pulling back with a pleased smile. “This is really good.”

“Yeah?” He asks, his voice a touch huskier than he intended.

You nod, taking another sip, completely unaware of the deeper meaning behind the drink. “Yeah, really good. You always make the best smoothies.”

His heart swells with pride, even as the possessiveness lingers, wrapping itself around his thoughts like a vice. You’re his, in every way that matters, and this smoothie is just another reminder of that fact — a reminder that only he knows about.

“Glad you like it,” he says, leaning against the counter as he watches you take another drink. “I put a little extra care into this one.”

You laugh softly, setting the glass down as you meet his gaze. “I can tell.”

For a moment, the two of you just look at each other, a quiet connection passing between you that feels almost electric. There’s a warmth in your eyes, a softness that makes him want to reach out and pull you into his arms again, to hold you close and never let go.

But instead, he pushes off the counter, walking back over to where you’re sitting. He places a hand on your shoulder, his thumb brushing against your skin in a slow, deliberate motion that makes your breath hitch just a little.

“Do you have any plans today?” He asks, his voice low, intimate.

You shake your head, your eyes half-lidded as you look up at him. “No, not really. Just thought I’d relax, maybe read a bit.”

He nods, his hand sliding down your arm to intertwine his fingers with yours. “Good. You deserve to relax.” He lifts your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles, his lips lingering against your skin.

You smile, a soft, contented smile that makes his chest tighten with emotion. “What about you?” You ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I’ve got some training later, but nothing too crazy,” he replies, his thumb brushing over the back of your hand. “I was thinking we could spend some time together before that, though. Just the two of us.”

You nod, your smile widening as you squeeze his hand. “I’d like that.”

He feels a warmth spread through him, a deep, satisfying contentment that comes from knowing you’re his, that you’re here with him, that you trust him completely. It’s a feeling he wants to hold onto forever, to keep close to his heart.

He leans down, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling back to look into your eyes. “Finish your smoothie,” he says, his tone gentle but insistent. “I want you to be well-fed before we start our day.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head as you pick up the glass again. “Okay, okay,” you say, taking another sip. “Bossy.”

He grins, his heart swelling with affection as he watches you drink, knowing that with every sip, you’re taking in a part of him, a part that only he can give you.

And as he watches you move around the apartment, smiling and laughing, completely unaware of the deeper connection you now share, he can’t help but feel a sense of satisfaction, a certainty that no one else could ever have what you have with him.

You’re his, in every way that matters. And he’ll do whatever it takes to keep it that way.

***

The late afternoon sun casts a warm, golden light across the Monaco apartment, bathing everything in a soft glow. The air is filled with the distant hum of the city below, but inside, all is calm, quiet — a perfect oasis for the two of you.

Charles moves around the spacious bathroom with purpose, the sound of running water filling the air as he prepares a bath for you. It’s been a long few weeks, with races and travel and the endless demands of his career, but now, finally, there’s a moment to breathe, to relax. And Charles is determined to make sure you do exactly that.

He watches the water fill the tub, swirling with bubbles from the bath salts he added, filling the room with the soothing scent of eucalyptus. But even as he sets the scene for a moment of peace, his mind is elsewhere, focused on the next step of his plan, the one that’s been playing out in quiet, secret moments ever since that night in the hotel.

He glances at the door to the bathroom, half-closed, knowing you’re just in the other room, curled up on the bed with a book, completely unaware of what he’s about to do. His heart beats a little faster at the thought, that same possessive thrill coursing through him, mixing with the tenderness he feels every time he looks at you.

The water’s almost ready now, the tub nearly full, and he knows it’s time. With a practiced ease, he reaches for the waistband of his shorts, slipping them off and setting them aside. He’s already half-hard, the anticipation of what he’s about to do sending a rush of heat through his body.

He moves to the edge of the tub, positioning himself just right, and with a deep breath, he lets his hand drift lower, closing around his length. The sensation is immediate, a familiar pleasure that he’s come to associate with these moments, these secret acts of intimacy that only he knows about.

His thoughts are filled with you, with the image of you sinking into the bath, the water wrapping around your body, warm and soothing. He strokes himself slowly, his eyes fixed on the water, imagining how it will mix with his release, how it will touch every inch of your skin, marking you as his in a way that no one else will ever know.

It doesn’t take long before he’s spilling into the water, his cum clouding the surface, disappearing into the bubbles. The sight of it sends a shiver of satisfaction through him, a sense of completion that’s as much emotional as it is physical.

He takes a moment to catch his breath, to let the last remnants of pleasure fade before he straightens, pulling his shorts back on. The water is ready now, the bath perfect, and he can’t help the small smile that tugs at his lips as he turns to leave the bathroom, ready to call you in.

“Mon cœur,” he calls softly, stepping out into the bedroom. “Your bath is ready.”

You look up from your book, your eyes lighting up at the sight of him. There’s a softness in your expression, a trust that makes his heart ache with affection, and he crosses the room to you, holding out a hand to help you up.

You take his hand, letting him pull you to your feet. “Thank you,” you say, your voice warm and full of gratitude as you follow him back into the bathroom. “This is exactly what I needed.”

He leads you to the tub, the water steaming gently, the scent of eucalyptus wrapping around you both. “Just relax,” he murmurs, his hands finding the hem of your shirt, lifting it over your head. “Let me take care of you.”

You nod, your eyes closing as he helps you undress, his touch gentle, reverent. There’s something almost ritualistic about the way he moves, his hands sliding over your skin as he removes each piece of clothing, until you’re standing naked before him, your body bathed in the soft light of the setting sun.

He guides you to the edge of the tub, helping you step in, and you sink into the water with a contented sigh, the warmth enveloping you, easing the tension from your muscles. Charles watches you, his gaze fixed on you as you settle back against the tub, your eyes closing in bliss.

“How’s the water?” He asks, his voice low, intimate.

“It’s perfect,” you murmur, your lips curving into a soft smile as you lean your head back. “So warm … feels amazing.”

He smiles, a wave of satisfaction washing over him at your words. “Good,” he says, kneeling beside the tub, his hand reaching out to brush a strand of hair away from your face. “You deserve to be pampered.”

You open your eyes, looking up at him with a gaze so full of trust, so full of love, that it nearly takes his breath away. “I’m lucky to have you,” you say softly, your hand reaching up to touch his cheek, your thumb brushing over his skin in a tender caress.

His heart swells at your words, at the sincerity in your voice. “I’m the lucky one,” he replies, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment longer than necessary, as if trying to memorize the feel of you, the scent of you.

He pulls back slightly, his hand moving to the edge of the tub where a bottle of shampoo waits, carefully placed within reach. “Let me wash your hair,” he offers, his voice gentle, almost a whisper.

You nod, your eyes closing again as you relax back into the water. “That sounds nice,” you say, your voice soft, almost drowsy.

He reaches for the shampoo, pouring some into his palm, the familiar scent filling the air. But as he moves to work it into your hair, he pauses, his eyes flicking to the small cup he’d placed on the floor behind him earlier, hidden just out of sight.

With a quick glance at you to make sure your eyes are still closed, he reaches back, his fingers closing around the cup. He moves carefully, mixing its contents with the shampoo in his hand, watching as the two substances blend together, the color and texture indistinguishable from the original.

His heart beats a little faster as he begins to work the mixture into your hair, his fingers massaging your scalp with a practiced ease. The scent of the shampoo mingles with the steam rising from the water, filling the room with a heady aroma that makes everything feel even more intimate, more connected.

You sigh softly as he works, the tension melting from your body with each gentle stroke of his fingers. “That feels amazing,” you murmur, your voice barely above a whisper.

He smiles, his heart swelling with a mixture of emotions — love, possessiveness, satisfaction. “I’m glad,” he replies, his voice low, soothing. “I want you to feel good, to feel relaxed.”

You hum in response, a sound that’s almost a purr, and he can’t help the way his chest tightens at the sound, at the sight of you so vulnerable, so trusting under his care.

As he continues to wash your hair, his fingers moving through the strands with gentle precision, he feels that same familiar thrill, the knowledge that he’s marking you in a way only he knows about. It’s a secret bond, a connection that runs deeper than words, deeper than anything else.

He finishes rinsing the shampoo from your hair, his hands cradling your head as he pours the water over you, careful to keep it from getting in your eyes. You let out another contented sigh, your body sinking deeper into the water, your skin glowing in the soft light.

“Thank you,” you murmur, your eyes still closed, a smile playing on your lips. “You always take such good care of me.”

His heart skips a beat at your words, a rush of warmth flooding his chest. “I’ll always take care of you,” he replies, his voice thick with emotion. “Always.”

You reach up, your hand finding his, your fingers intertwining with his in a gesture that feels as natural as breathing. “I love you,” you whisper, your voice filled with a depth of feeling that takes his breath away.

He squeezes your hand, his thumb brushing over your knuckles in a tender caress. “I love you too,” he replies, his voice steady, but there’s an intensity in his gaze, a fierceness that speaks to the depth of his feelings, to the possessiveness that’s only grown stronger over time.

As you relax back into the water, your eyes drifting closed once more, Charles watches you, his heart swelling with a mixture of love and possessiveness, satisfaction and desire. You’re his, in every way that matters, and with every secret act, every hidden gesture, he’s reminded of that fact.

And as he sits there beside you, his hand still holding yours, he can’t help but feel a sense of completion, a certainty that no matter what happens, you’ll always be his, in ways that no one else could ever understand.

***

The room is quiet, the only sound the soft rustle of sheets and the rhythmic hum of the city outside. The moonlight filters through the curtains, casting a pale glow across the bedroom, creating long shadows that stretch across the floor. The air is cool, a gentle breeze slipping through the cracked window, stirring the fabric of the curtains ever so slightly.

Charles lies beside you, his body still as he watches you sleep. The steady rise and fall of your chest, the soft flutter of your eyelashes as you dream, the way your lips part slightly with each breath — it’s all mesmerizing to him, a sight he never tires of. There’s a peace in this moment, in the quiet intimacy of sharing a bed with you, knowing you’re safe, warm, comfortable, that you trust him completely.

But there’s also something else — a restlessness, a need that’s been simmering beneath the surface, growing stronger with each passing day. He’s been patient, careful, methodical in the way he’s been marking you as his, but tonight, that need has reached a peak, a point where he can’t ignore it any longer.

His gaze drifts down to your lips, the soft curve of them, the way they part slightly with each exhale. An idea takes root in his mind, one that’s as thrilling as it is intimate, and before he can talk himself out of it, he’s already moving, slipping out from under the covers with a practiced ease that keeps the bed from shifting too much.

The room is still cool as he stands, his bare feet silent on the hardwood floor as he walks to the foot of the bed. He pauses there for a moment, his heart beating a little faster as he considers what he’s about to do. There’s a thrill in the secrecy of it, in the knowledge that you have no idea what’s coming, that you’re completely at his mercy in this moment.

With a quiet breath, he moves to the other side of the bed, his hands reaching for the waistband of his shorts. He slips them off, the fabric pooling at his feet, leaving him bare in the dim light of the room. His body responds immediately, the anticipation sending a rush of heat through him, his desire hardening almost instantly.

He looks down at you, your face still peaceful, unaware, and he knows he has to be careful, gentle, if this is going to work. He lowers himself onto the bed, positioning himself over you with practiced care, his body hovering just above yours. He leans in close, his breath warm against your skin as he brings himself closer to your lips.

Your eyelashes flutter, a soft murmur escaping your lips as you start to stir, but before you can fully wake, he moves, pressing the tip of his length against your mouth, the contact so light, so delicate, it’s almost like a dream.

Your lips part instinctively, a reflexive action born of years of being together, of knowing each other so intimately. Charles’ breath hitches as he feels the warmth of your mouth, the softness of your lips as they brush against him. He’s careful not to move too quickly, not to startle you awake, but even this small touch sends a shiver of pleasure through him.

“Shh, mon amour,” he whispers, his voice low, soothing. “Just relax. It’s okay.”

You murmur something unintelligible, your head shifting slightly on the pillow, but you don’t wake. Your body is still relaxed, still trusting, and that trust sends a wave of possessive satisfaction through him, a reminder that you’re his in every way that matters.

He presses forward slightly, just enough to let the tip of himself slip between your lips, careful to keep his movements slow, deliberate. He watches your face, the way your brows furrow slightly in your sleep, the way your lips instinctively close around him, the warmth of your mouth enveloping him in a way that makes his breath catch.

“That’s it,” he murmurs, his voice barely above a whisper. “Just like that.”

He moves carefully, slowly, guiding more of himself into your mouth, each inch sending a thrill of pleasure through him. The sensation is almost too much, the combination of your warmth, your softness, and the knowledge that you have no idea what’s happening, that you’re completely at his mercy in this moment.

But he’s not doing this just for his pleasure. There’s a purpose to this, a plan that’s been forming in his mind ever since he started marking you, ever since he realized how much he needed you to be his in every way. He wants you to associate this with feeling good, to connect the taste of him with pleasure, with satisfaction, even if you don’t fully understand why.

His free hand moves to your thigh, gently caressing the soft skin there, his touch light, reassuring. “You’re doing so well,” he whispers, his voice soothing, even as his heart races with the intensity of the moment.

You stir again, your lips tightening slightly around him as your body responds to his touch. He can feel the tension in your muscles, the way your breathing changes as you start to wake, but he doesn’t stop. He’s careful, precise, his movements designed to keep you on the edge of consciousness, just aware enough to feel the pleasure, but not enough to fully wake.

“Just let go,” he murmurs, his hand trailing up your thigh, his fingers brushing against the sensitive skin there. “I’ve got you.”

Your breathing quickens, a soft moan escaping your lips as your body responds to him, even in sleep. He can feel the way your muscles tense, the way your hips shift slightly, as if seeking more contact, more pleasure.

He keeps his movements slow, controlled, his own pleasure building with each careful thrust, each soft sound that escapes your lips. He watches your face, the way your brows furrow, the way your lips part around him, and he knows he’s close, so close to the edge.

But he doesn’t want to finish yet, not until he’s certain you’ve felt it too, that you’ve connected the taste of him with pleasure, with satisfaction. He moves his hand higher, his fingers brushing against the warmth between your legs, finding you already wet, already ready for him.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his voice filled with a mix of affection and possessiveness. “That’s my good girl.”

He strokes you gently, his fingers moving in slow, deliberate circles, his touch just enough to push you closer to the edge, but not enough to wake you fully. He watches as your breathing quickens, your body responding to his touch, to the combination of sensations he’s giving you.

It doesn’t take long before he feels you start to tense, your muscles tightening, your breathing becoming more erratic. He can see the pleasure building in you, can feel the way your body is reacting, and it’s almost too much for him to handle, the intensity of it sending him right to the brink.

“That’s it,” he whispers, his voice filled with satisfaction as he watches you, as he feels you. “Just let go, mon cœur. I’ve got you.”

And then, with one final thrust, one last stroke, he feels you fall over the edge, your body trembling with the force of your climax. The sight of you, the feel of you, sends him over the edge too, his own release spilling into your mouth, the pleasure almost overwhelming in its intensity.

He stays there for a moment, his breath ragged, his heart racing, as he watches you slowly relax, your body sinking back into the bed, your breathing evening out as you slip back into a deeper sleep. He’s careful as he pulls away, as he adjusts the covers around you, making sure you’re comfortable, making sure you’re warm.

He watches you for a moment longer, his heart swelling with a mixture of love and possessiveness, satisfaction and desire. You’re his, in every way that matters, and with every secret act, every hidden gesture, he’s reminded of that fact.

He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, his lips lingering there for a moment as he whispers, “Je t’aime,” into the darkness.

And then he slips back under the covers, his body curling around yours as he holds you close, his heart still racing with the intensity of what just happened, of what he’s just done. But there’s no regret, no second thoughts, only a deep, abiding satisfaction, a certainty that you’re his, in every way that matters.

As he drifts off to sleep, his hand resting possessively on your hip, he knows that he’ll continue to mark you, to claim you, in all the ways that matter, in all the ways that only he can. Because you’re his, and he’ll do whatever it takes to keep you that way, forever.

***

The night air is thick with celebration. Monaco is alive with the sounds of revelry — cheers and laughter drifting up from the streets below. It’s late, but the adrenaline from Charles’ latest victory keeps you both buzzing. You’re in your shared apartment, the lights dimmed low, the atmosphere electric with the thrill of his win. Champagne flutes sit abandoned on the table, half-full and forgotten in the wake of more pressing desires.

Charles can’t take his eyes off you. You’re draped in his suit jacket, the oversized fabric slipping off one shoulder, revealing the curve of your collarbone, the delicate line of your neck. There’s a flush to your cheeks, the result of both the champagne and the heady excitement of the night. You’re beautiful, radiant in the aftermath of his success, and he feels a swell of pride, of possessiveness, as he watches you.

The victory tonight was sweet, but what’s even sweeter is knowing you’re his. Completely his. He’s trained you well — his perfect, responsive lover — and tonight, he’s going to show you just how well that training has paid off.

“You’re happy,” he says, his voice low, tinged with satisfaction as he watches you lean back against the sofa, your eyes bright with joy.

“Of course I am,” you reply, your smile wide, genuine. “I’m so proud of you. You were amazing out there.”

He steps closer, his gaze intense as he takes in the sight of you, his fingers itching to touch, to claim. “I couldn’t have done it without you, you know.”

You laugh softly, shaking your head. “I’m pretty sure your skill had something to do with it.”

“Maybe,” he murmurs, his voice dropping to a whisper as he reaches out, his fingers brushing against your cheek. “But I’m serious. You’re my good luck charm.”

You tilt your head, leaning into his touch, your eyes softening as you look up at him. “You really think so?”

“I know so,” he replies, his tone firm, leaving no room for doubt.

He moves closer, his body pressing against yours as he leans in, capturing your lips in a kiss. It’s slow, deliberate, his mouth moving against yours with practiced ease. He knows exactly how to kiss you, how to make you melt beneath him, and he feels that familiar thrill of satisfaction as you respond, your lips parting to let him in.

But tonight, he’s not just interested in kissing you. Tonight, he has something else in mind, something he’s been working towards for weeks.

He pulls back slightly, his breath warm against your lips as he murmurs, “I have something for you.”

Your brows furrow in curiosity, your lips still tingling from the kiss. “What is it?”

He doesn’t answer, not with words. Instead, he takes your hand, guiding it down between your bodies, letting you feel the hard evidence of his arousal. Your eyes widen slightly, a soft gasp escaping your lips as you realize what he’s implying, what he’s about to do.

“Charles …” your voice trails off, a mix of anticipation and uncertainty coloring your tone.

“Shh, mon amour,” he whispers, his voice soothing as he leans in closer, his lips brushing against your ear. “Trust me.”

He doesn’t wait for a response, his hand moving to your chin, tilting your head up slightly, positioning you just right. And then, with a slow, deliberate movement, he guides himself to your lips, the tip of his length brushing against your mouth, warm and inviting.

You hesitate for a moment, a flicker of surprise in your eyes, but then your body remembers the way he’s been with you, the way he’s trained you, conditioned you, and that hesitation melts away. You part your lips slightly, allowing him to slip into your mouth, your breath catching as you taste him, as you feel him.

It’s a taste you’re familiar with by now, a taste that’s been ingrained in your subconscious over weeks of careful, methodical training. But this time, it’s different. This time, you’re awake, fully aware, and the intensity of it hits you like a tidal wave.

Your eyes flutter shut, a soft moan escaping your lips as he presses deeper, the familiar warmth and saltiness of him filling your senses. There’s something about it, something intoxicating, and you can’t help but respond, your body instinctively seeking more, craving the pleasure that’s become so closely associated with this taste.

Charles watches you, his heart pounding with a mix of excitement and satisfaction as he sees your reaction, sees the way your body tenses, the way your breath quickens. You’re perfect, absolutely perfect, and the knowledge that he’s the one who made you this way, who trained you to respond like this, sends a rush of possessive pride through him.

He moves carefully, his hips shifting slightly, allowing him to press deeper into your mouth, his hand moving to the back of your head, holding you in place. He’s careful not to go too fast, not to overwhelm you, but there’s a thrill in knowing that you’re so close, that he’s about to push you over the edge.

You whimper softly, your lips tightening around him as the pleasure builds, as the taste of him floods your senses. It’s almost too much, the intensity of it, the way your body responds so instinctively, so powerfully to this simple act. You’re teetering on the edge, so close to falling, and you can feel it, the tension building in your core, the overwhelming need for release.

Charles watches you, his own breath ragged as he feels your body’s response, as he sees the way you’re teetering on the brink. “You’re so perfect,” he murmurs, his voice thick with emotion, with desire. “My perfect girl.”

And then, with one final thrust, one last push, he feels you fall over the edge, your body trembling with the force of your climax. The taste of him, the feel of him, it’s all too much, and you can’t hold back, can’t stop the wave of pleasure that crashes over you, leaving you gasping, shaking, lost in the sensation.

He holds you there for a moment, letting you ride out the wave, his hand stroking your hair gently, soothingly. He can feel the way your body shudders, the way your breath hitches as you come down from the high, and it fills him with a deep, satisfying sense of accomplishment.

“Good girl,” he whispers, his voice filled with affection as he gently pulls away, his hand still cradling the back of your head, holding you close. “You did so well.”

You’re still breathing heavily, your body trembling slightly as you look up at him, your eyes wide with a mix of shock and wonder. “Charles … I …”

“Shh,” he murmurs, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “It’s okay. You’re perfect. You’re mine.”

You nod slightly, your breath still shaky, but there’s a look of understanding in your eyes, a recognition of what just happened, of how far you’ve come, of how much you’ve changed. And Charles knows, without a doubt, that you’re his, completely his.

He pulls you into his arms, holding you close as you both settle back onto the sofa, the aftermath of the moment settling over you like a warm, comforting blanket. There’s a sense of peace, of contentment, as you rest your head against his chest, your body still humming with the afterglow of pleasure.

Charles strokes your hair, his fingers gentle as they move through the soft strands, his heart filled with an overwhelming ove for you. He’s proud of you, of how perfect you are, of how well you’ve responded to his training. And as he holds you, he knows that this is just the beginning, that there’s so much more to explore, so much more to experience together.

“You’re mine,” he whispers again, his voice filled with a quiet, possessive satisfaction. “And you always will be.”

You don’t respond, not with words, but the way you snuggle closer to him, the way your body relaxes in his arms, says it all. You’re his, in every way that matters, and there’s no place you’d rather be.

[athenamikaelson]

Klaus Mikaelson x Soulmate!Reader x Elijah Mikaelson Ch. 14

Word Count- 5.3k

Warnings- Sexual innuendos (if you’re dirty-minded), swearing, violence, death, blood, Klaus is a dick🙃

“Wait so the students get together and just trash the school,” Alastair questions as he pulls his Porsche into the school parking lot. 

I roll my eyes and sigh at yet another question from him about tonight as we both step out of the car. 

“Like the one-hundred other times you’ve asked, no we are not trashing the school, we’re setting up pranks,” I frown at the thought, “Ok. Maybe it is slightly trashing the school.”

“Ok, that’s great. I guess,” He mutters as he puts his arm around my shoulders as we walk towards the front door. 

“What I don’t get though, is why I have to come?”

I brush his hand off my shoulder and move to open the door before he can do it. He rolls his eyes at my antics and I smile as I motion for him to enter first.

“Age before beauty,” I smirk, “And you have to go because Elena and Caroline are making me go. And you said you’ve never been to a public school and this’ll be your first and last year of it. So we’re putting out all the stops. Besides you’re my side piece, I have to bring you.”

Alastair begins to say something but the sound of his phone dinging stops him. I watch in silence as he picks it up to read what text he just got. But I frown when his usually happy face shifts. His jaw clenches and his right eye twitches as he reads the message. 

“Is everything ok?”

Alastair eyes shift to me for a moment as if forgetting I was here. He quickly writes off a message, puts the phone back into his pocket, and then nods at me.

“Ya,” His tone cold, “I’m fine. Let’s just get this night over with.”

At his harsh and cold tone, I frown.

“If something is wrong you can tell me, y’know. That’s what friends do,” I quietly tell him as I try to keep up with his long strides. 

“I’m fine,” He says back without sparing me a glance.

“Really, if somethings the-”

“I said I’m fine,” I flinch back slightly as Alastair bites back at me and I feel my hands start to shake.

“I’m sorry. I um..,” I bite down hard on my lower lip, “I’m sorry.”

I can see Alastair finally face me out of my peripheral but I just focus on the door ahead as I open it.

“Y/N. I didn’t-”

A high-pitched squealing cuts out Alastair's voice. 

“You guys are finally here,” Caroline’s high-pitched voice assaults my ears as I’m being grabbed by two strong arms and wrapped into a hug.

“I haven’t seen you in forever!”

I laugh slightly at Caroline’s comment, “Caroline, it’s only been like a week?”

Caroline leans back to give me a roll of her eyes, “Well you’ve missed a lot,” She shoots a glance at Alastair who has made his way over to Tyler, “I’ll tell you about it later. But right now we have a lot of work to do!”

Caroline practically skips away as she gestures to what I now see are mouse traps that litter the left side of the classroom.

“We need to get all these,” She gestures to the traps on the desks, “Everywhere!”

I look around at the classroom and then at Bonnie and Elena who are both laughing at Caroline's enthusiasm. As soon as I see Bonnie I begin to walk over to her since I haven’t seen her all summer but a flash of blonde fills my vision.

“You guys can catch up later. We are on a tight schedule right now. So get moving!”

Caroline thrusts a bag of mouse traps into my arms and then walks over to Alastair and does the same. I watch my friend look at the traps and then take a deep breath.

“She’s been like this all night,” Elena whispers as she makes her way over to me.

I kneel to the floor and start placing the traps as I talk with her, “She’s always like this.”

Elena mutters out a “true” as she starts placing traps down as well. I glance up and make eye contact with my witch friend who gives me a smile and a friendly wave. I replicated that as I glanced at Caroline to ensure she didn’t notice. Thankfully she’s complaining to Tyler about not going fast enough. 

—-

I’m just about to place my last trap when I hear the door to the classroom open. I go to yell at the person to stop, but sadly it’s too late. I watch in defeat as all the mouse traps ignite and snaps are heard across the room. 

“Oh, come on,” Caroline exclaims, “Seriously? Do you know how long it took for us to set all this up?”

I glare at Matt Donovan as he stands there looking at all of us sheepishly.

“Forgot about senior prank night, huh,” Tyler questions his friend.

“Clearly.”

Caroline is repulsed by this answer, “How could you forget? We’ve only been waiting for this since like freshman year.”

“Yeah, Matt. If I’m doing this, you’re doing this,” Elena chimes in and I nod along with her because I would much rather be home. Especially since I had another one of my little heart attacks today. Luckily this one lasted only a few minutes unlike others this summer that lasted much longer. 

Damon caught me a month ago having one and made me make a doctor’s appointment to get it checked out. To which I accused him of actually liking me and having a heart. He denied that of course and said it was because he didn’t want me dying in his house and getting my dead person stench everywhere. 

Two weeks later he drove me to some fancy heart doctor in the city and of course, with my luck, the doctor was stumped. Saying he doesn’t see anything wrong on any of the tests he’s done. When I left he said he’d ask around to some of his doctor friends and let me know if they know anything. But, that was over a month ago and I haven’t heard back from him. 

“I’m kind of surprised any of you are doing this,” Matt says.

“Caroline’s making us,” Bonnie says.

“Y/n’s making me,” Alastair smirks at me but I turn away from him.

“We’re about to be seniors. These are the memories that’ll stay with us forever, and if…”

“And if we don’t create these memories now,” Elena interjects, “Then what’s the point of it all?”

“Go ahead and make fun, I don’t care,” I laugh as Caroline shrugs everyone’s teasing off.

“You’re all lame,” Tyler walks by us with bags in his hands, “I’ve got ten more classrooms to prank.”

I frown as I feel I tugging on my hand and I realize I’m being pulled up by Elena. 

“Excuse me?”

“Hey! Where are you going,” Bonnie asks and I have the same question as Elena leads me to the door. I see Alastair start to follow us but Caroline stops him by shoving a bag into his hands. 

“We’re going to go superglue Alaric’s desk shut. We’re making memories,” Elena smiles at them and then squeezes my hand as she leads me out into the hall. I hear Caroline yell out to us and Elena giggles back. 

“I feel like this could’ve been a one-woman job,” I raise my eyebrow at Elena who shrugs.

“I haven’t seen you all week, I missed you,” She sheepishly says the last part and I smile at my friend.

“Well our manager has been making Alastair and I take practically all the shifts,” I explain and then squeeze her hand, “But I missed you too.”

Elena smiles at me as she pushes a door open for me. As we turn the corner she stops to an abrupt halt though and grips my hand so hard I think she might break it. I go to question what's wrong but as soon as I look up I realize what’s scared her. Actually, not a what. A who, Klaus. 

“There’s my girl,” Klaus’ accent fills my ears for the first time in months and a wave of nausea and something else washes over me. 

“Klaus,” Elena exhales quickly and then begins to pull me back with her but as we turn around Klaus speeds in front of us. I feel my hands start to shake and Elena must feel this too because she uses our connected hands to push me behind her protectively. 

“You’re supposed to be dead. What are we going to do about that,” Klaus asks and within a moment he’s grabbing her roughly making our hands fall away from each other. I go to help her but Klaus glares at me.

“Don’t,” The way he bites out the word makes me halt and I have no idea what to do.

As I’m looking at Klaus I don’t think he has any idea what to do with me either as he seems to be thinking over something in his mind. I hear him growl something under his breath and then whip around.

“Follow,” Klaus’ bark instantly has me slightly jogging to catch up with my friend and him as he leads us down the hall.

“You put a rather large kink in my plans, sweetheart. The whole point of breaking the curse and becoming a hybrid was to make more hybrids. I haven't been able to do that. Now my bet is, it has something to do with the fact that you’re still breathing.”

My breathing comes out shallow as I’m literally jogging now to keep up with them through all the halls and doors he’s leading us through. I want nothing more than to get my friend away from him but pissing Klaus off would only result in someone’s death.

“If you’re going to kill me, just do it!”

“Not until I know I’m right. But I do have ways of making you suffer.”

—

Klaus thrusts open one last door and we’re entering the currently packed gym where students are placing cups and other pranks around. 

“Attention, seniors. You have officially been busted. Prank night is over,” Klaus yells to the students in what I think is some kind of American accent. One that makes me want to put thumbtacks into my ears, “Head on home.”

“You two,” He stops Dana and Chad, “I remember you.”

Dana looks at him confused, “I’m sorry. Who are you?”

“Oh, don’t worry, I wasn’t in my right mind last time we met. Lift your foot up, please, Dana,” Klaus compels the girl and I frown as she does.

“If she drops her foot, Chad, I want you to beat her to death. Understood?”

My eyes widen and a shocked gasp escapes my mouth as I watch in fear as Chad nods.

“Don’t, Klaus. You don’t have to hurt anybody.”

“Oh, come on, love. Of course, I do.”

“Why? To show everyone just how scary you are by killing teenagers? Why not pick on someone your own size, or age, for once,” I angrily say to the man whose spine seems to straighten out as he hears my voice. 

Klaus turns to me and his playful smirk morphs into a dark look as he makes eye contact with me, “When did I say you could speak?”

I try not to let his dark tone and look sway my confidence but this guy really freaks me the fuck out, “I didn’t know I needed your permission,” My voice shakes and I’m hoping he doesn't notice, but by the way his mouth turns into a snarl I think he heard it.

Klaus drops Elena’s arm and slowly stalks towards me like a predator stalking its prey. I think I hear Elena try to get him to stop but all I can focus on is Klaus’ blue eyes that seem to darken as he stalks closer to me. I wait for the worst to happen as he gets a foot away from me but he halts when something diverts his eye. I follow his line of vision to see him staring at my neck. I take a deep breath and wait for him to sink his teeth into me and probably kill me as he reaches his hand up, but I frown when his fingers graze my necklace. The wolf one I had gotten for my birthday. The one Alastair swears didn’t come from him. 

Klaus’ snarl turns into a slight frown as he rubs the wolf one last time and then looks me in the eyes. 

“Go sit down,” He doesn’t give me time to argue with him as he goes back over to Elena who gestures for me to go and sit down on the bleachers. I only do because of the pleading look on my best friend’s face.

—

I watch silently in fear as Dana struggles to keep her foot raised. Elena questions Klaus about Stefan’s whereabouts but Klaus shrugs her off. The sound of a door opening turns all of our attention. Fear washes over me as Bonnie and Matt enter. 

“No!”

“Bonnie get out of here,” Elena and I both yell to them but it’s too late.

Klaus speeds over to Bonnie, “Ah, I was wondering when you’d show up. Now we can get started. Ah, Dana, why don’t you relax? You and Chad sit tight,” He yells to the two innocent teens and I feel tears fall down my cheeks as Dana falls into her boyfriend's arms in pain.

I stand up to go help them.

“SIT,” Klaus’ booming voice makes me shake as I helplessly sit back down on the bleachers. 

“I assume you’re the reason Elena is still walking around alive? That’s right. If you want to blame someone, blame me,” Bonnie tells the man.

“Oh, there’s no need for blame, love. Just your witchy interference seems to have caused some undesirable side effects. And since you caused the problem I’m going to have you find the fix.”

Right when Klaus is done explaining to Bonnie his plan the door is pushed open and a pretty blond walks in with Tyler in her grasp. 

“Get off me!”

“Hush now,” The blonde shushes him in an accent like Klaus’.

“I’d like you all to meet my sister…Rebekah,” At the mention of yet another Original I grab my already shaking hands in comfort, “Word of warning, she can be quite mean.”

“Don’t be an arse,” Rebekah says as she pushes Tyler into Klaus’ arms. 

“Leave him alone!”

“I’m going to make this very simple,” Klaus drags an injured Tyler, “Every time I attempt to turn a werewolf into a vampire hybrid they die during the transition. It’s quite horrible, actually,” We all freeze as Klaus bites into his wrist and shoves it into Tyler’s mouth.

“I need you to find a way to save my hybrids, Bonnie. And for Tyler’s sake…you better hurry.”

Gasps are heard around the room as we watch Klaus snap Tyler’s neck and throw his body onto the floor next to him.

I watch petrified with tears streaming down my face as Klaus smiles happily at Elena, Bonnie, and Matt. 

“He killed him,” Matt says as he sits next to his friend’s dead body.

“He’s not dead. Klaus’ blood will turn him into a vampire.”

“And if Bonnie’s successful he’ll live through his transition,” He turns to Bonnie, “Go on then. Go and fetch your grimoires and enchantments and whatnot. I’ll hold onto Elena for safekeeping.”

Bonnie gives Elena one last glance and then runs out of the room with Matt. 

“So this is the latest doppelganger,” Girl-Klaus taunts Elena, “The original one was much prettier.”

“They look the same,” I say out loud, “That’s like the whole point of doppelgangers. I’m sure the library has dictionaries if you need to look it up.”

My voice draws the woman’s attention and she growls at me. I realize being bitchy to an original vampire wasn’t the smartest thing to do. I try to look tough as she comes over to me but with the dried tears on my face, I guess I look pretty pathetic. 

“And who the hell are you,” Rebekah starts stalking towards me and I stand up from my seat. 

“Y/N, Elena’s friend,” I lift my chin and try to sound confident.

Rebekah smiles at me but it is the farthest thing from friendly, within a second she reaches her hand up and I close my eyes fearing for the worst but nothing happens.

“Don’t,” Klaus’ voice fills my ears and I open my eyes to see his back in front of me blocking me from his sister’s view. 

“She’s nothing! Come on brother let me have a little fun! She insulted me,” Rebekah's annoyed voice sounds as she tries to reason with her brother.

“And you insulted her friend,” Klaus says and then leans down slightly to be face to face with his sister, “Now back up,” The last sentence comes out so low I can barely hear it. But the anger in Klaus’ voice is evident enough to have his sister taking several steps back. 

Klaus turns around for a moment and if I’m not mistaken it would appear that he’s looking me over. His blue eyes make their way over my tear-covered face and the movement of his hand catches my eye. I watch as he clenches and unclenches his right hand before it’s shoved into the pocket of his jeans. 

A growl escapes Klaus’ mouth catching my attention. He doesn’t spare me another glance as he marches back over to Elena. 

Rebekah who stands maybe 5 feet away from me looks at me with a deep frown on her face. One mixed with what I think to be confusion. 

“What did you say your name was,” She questions. This time less hostile and more inquisitive.

“Y/n…”

Rebekah keeps staring at me as if she can’t figure out something.

“Sister, take the wolf-boy elsewhere,” Klaus beckons his sister and Rebekah shoots me one last look before grabbing Tyler’s arm and dragging him out of the room.

—-

I sit silently on the bleachers as Elena comforts Dana and Chad. Klaus sits comfortably on the ground as if this is an everyday experience for him. Which it probably is. My ass starts to hurt from the hard bleachers and let out a low groan. 

“Excuse me,” I try to get Klaus’ attention but realize he’s already looking at me. 

Klaus’ eyes narrow as he looks at me, “What?”

“Can I get up,” I gesture to the bleachers, “My ass hurts.”

For a split second, I could swear Klaus’ upper lip twitches but in a moment his cold look is back. He seems to think for a moment then smirks, “Either keep sitting on those bleachers and bruise your ass, or…,” He narrows his eyes at me and glances at a crying Dana, “You can switch spots with Little Dana here.”

Klaus seems to be proud of himself or something believing that I’m going to shut up and stay seated but without a second thought, I stand up from my spot on the bleachers and walk towards Dana.

“Y/N, no,” I hear Elena whisper to me as I grab Dana’s arm and push her to go sit on the bleachers. She sends me a teary-eyed smile and I turn to look at Klaus, who once again is already looking at me, and balance myself as I lift my left foot. 

Klaus glares at me and I hold eye contact with him for so long that my foot starts to shake. He looks down at my wobbly leg and a shit-eating grin makes its way onto his face. I watch as he stands from his seated position and makes his way over to me. He stops in front of me and turns his head mockingly to the side. 

“How long do you think it’ll take before you fall onto your knees before me,” Klaus says and my knees shake involuntarily.

“I’ve got great calves so I could do this all night wolf-boy,” I say and Klaus raises his eyebrows in slight surprise before slowly dragging his eyes down my body towards my calves.

“You’re not wrong,” He says under his breath before looking back up to me. 

The sound of a door opening alerts us all and a relieved sigh leaves me as I see Stefan enter the gym. 

“Stefan,” Elena exhales. 

“Klaus,” Stefan calls out to the man in front of me who rolls his eyes.

“Come to save your damsel, mate?”

“I came to ask for your forgiveness. And pledge my loyalty.”

Stefan’s words have me frowning, “Excuse me? Pledge your loyalty to this dictator,” I throw up a finger to Klaus who rolls his eyes at me. 

“Well, you broke that pledge once already,” Klaus says like a hurt little boy.

“Elena means nothing to me anymore,” Ya ok, “And whatever you ask of me… I will do.”

Klaus thinks for a moment before turning around, “Fair enough. Let’s drink on it. Kill them.”

I gasp as Klaus points to Dana and Chad who are sitting together on the bleachers. 

“What are you waiting for? Kill them.”

“No! Stefan, don’t. He’s not going to hurt me. He already said,” Elena tries to reason with her boyfriend but is stopped as Klaus hits her across the face. 

I loud gasp escapes me and I drop my foot not even caring if it gets me killed as I rush towards my best friend. 

I grab Elena and check her over for any wounds as she watches Stefan and Klaus fight behind us. 

“She means nothing to you? Your lies just keep piling up,” Klaus says as he holds Stefan by the throat.

“Let her and Y/n go! I’ll do whatever you want, you have my word!”

“Your word doesn’t mean much. I lived by your word all summer during which time I never had to resort to this. Stop fighting.”

“Don’t do this, don’t do this.”

“I didn’t want to. All I wanted was your allegiance. Now I’m going to have to take it. You will do exactly as I say when I say it. You will not run, you will not hide you will simply just obey.”

I watch in horror as I realize that Klaus is compelling away Stefan’s free will. Elena and I both watch horrified as Stefan stands there like a zombie. 

“Now kill them…Ripper.”

Before I can see anything Elena grabs me into her arms and pushes my head into her neck. I squeeze my eyes shut as I hear Dana and Chad’s terrified screams and then the drop of their bodies. Tears fall from my cheeks and from the dampness on my shoulder I can tell Elena is crying as well. 

Klaus leans down towards Elena and me and shoves Elena away from me. My butt falls onto the ground and I watch as Klaus starts taunting my friend.

“It’s always nice to see a vampire in his true element. The species has become such a broody lot.”

“No. You did this to him,” Elena growls out. I look over to Stefan as he shamefully wipes Dana and Chad’s blood off his chin and I have to swallow the bile rising up my throat. 

“I invited him to the party, love. He’s the one dancing on the table.”

“You’re a monster,” I bite out at the man.

Klaus stands up and walks over to me. He looks down at me and smirks, “I’m the monster, princess,” Klaus leans down slightly and his smirk deepens. He raises a finger and mockingly wipes a stray tear off my face, “And you, are on your knees in front of this monster.”

I look down at my kneeled position and can’t seem to care what me not keeping one fucking foot up means. All I know is that I hate this man in front of me.

“Go fuck yourself,” I bite out at him and his smirk deepens.

He leans down further so our faces are almost touching and whispers out, “Such nasty words from such a pretty mouth.”

“Where is it? Where’s my necklace?”

Rebekah running into the room and towards Elena diverts Klaus’ attention from me. 

“What are you talking about?”

“She has my necklace. Look,” Rebekah accuses Elena as she hands her brother a phone.

Klaus inspects something on the device before looking over to Elena, “Well, well. More lies.”

“Where is it?”

“I don’t have it anymore,” Elena responds.

“You’re lying,” Rebekah yells and flashes towards Elena and rips into her neck. 

I jump up in surprise and run to help my friend but Klaus has already pushed his sister away. 

“Knock it off!”

“Make her tell me, Nik!”

Klaus places his hands to his lips and kneels down next to Elena as I hold her shoulders, “Where’s the necklace, sweetheart? Be honest.”

I quickly grab the sweater I’m wearing and drag it over my head, leaving me only in my white tank top, and quickly press it to Elena’s neck. I look to Klaus who keeps eye contact with me until Elena speaks up.

“I’m telling the truth. Katherine stole it.”

Klaus sighs, “Katerina. Of course. Well, that’s unfortunate. If we had the necklace it would make things a whole lot easier for your witch, but since we’re doing this the hard way,” Klaus stands up and walks over to the control pad for the scoreboard, “Let’s put a clock on it. Shall we?”

A loud buzzer sounds, “Twenty minutes. If Bonnie hasn’t found a solution by then I want you to feed again, only this time,” He walks over to face Stefan, “I want you to feed on Elena. You know you want to.”

“No, Klaus. Don’t do this to him,” Elena begs.

“No one leaves. If she tries to run, fracture her spine,” Klaus walks by me grabbing my upper arm and pulling me, “You’re with me.”

—

As soon as we’re out of the gym Klaus drops my arm and rubs his hand on his jeans. 

“If anyone here has cooties it’s you,” I whisper out but he must’ve heard it as he rolls his eyes. 

“You sit,” Klaus motions towards the wall and I sigh.

I sit and watch silently as Rebekah and Klaus converse with one another a few feet away from me. 

“You’re not going to let him kill her,” I say out loud from my spot. Klaus and Rebekah both look my way and Klaus narrows his eyes at me.

“Is that so?”

“I mean I would think so. Unless you’re an idiot.”

This comment seems to ruffle some of Klaus’ feathers as he narrows his eyes at me and stalks toward me. Rebekah watches silently from her spot.

“I am not an idiot,” Klaus says and I raise an eyebrow staring up at him.

“I never said you were. I said you would be an idiot. That’s two different things.”

Klaus stares at me and once again it looks like he’s fighting an internal battle, “Do you always talk this much?”

“No. At least not usually. Alastair says…” 

I stop my sentence when I remember my friend is still somewhere in this school. At least I think he is. I hope to god he left when all the other students did. 

“Alastair?”

Klaus turns his head to the side questionably.

“You look like a puppy when you do that, y’know,” I snarkily chime out and am almost as surprised with my confidence as Klaus seems to be. 

A snort is heard from behind him and I look to see Rebekah covering her laugh with a cough. Her brother sends her a deadly glare and she instantly sobers up.

Klaus turns back towards me and leans down to face me again, “Just because I didn’t kill you back there. That doesn’t mean I won’t do it now. Watch your tongue, princess. Before I rip it out.”

I hold my breath as Klaus stands back up and he seems to hear something as he turns his head. Without a second glance at me or his sister Klaus speeds away. 

—

“Are you suicidal,” Rebekah’s voice catches my attention. I look over at her and see her watching me with an almost amazed look.

“Not currently,” I bite out.

“How long have you known my brother,” She questions.

I shake my head in annoyance, “Why?”

Just like her brother, she narrows her eyes at me, “Answer the question.”

I close my eyes and lean my head against the lockers I’m seated against, “I’ve had like two conversations with the guy.”

“That’s impossible,” She responds and I groan as I open my eyes.

“Well, it’s the truth.”

We both sit in silence for a moment staring at each other. After a moment Rebekah takes a step forward and I tense up against the lockers.

“Calm down. I’m not going to touch you. I just want to get a closer look at you,” She says.

“Why?”

Rebekah kneels in front of me and I watch wide-eyed and silently unnerved as she marks every spot of my face with her eyes. 

“Is there-”

“Shhh.”

Okay.

Rebekah leans in a little closer and for a second I’m wondering if this girl is going to kiss me or bite into my neck but a gasp escapes her lips and she leans back on his hands.

“It’s you,” She whispers in awe.

“Excuse me?”

“Your eyes…”

“What about my eyes?”

“REBEKAH,” Klaus’ loud voice is heard through the halls and Rebekah quickly moves away from me. 

Klaus storms down the hall and glares at his sister. I watch in confusion as they have a silent conversation with their eyes before Klaus begins walking down the hall.

“Follow.”

—

I follow Klaus and Rebekah into a classroom. The latter keeps making me feel uneasy with her staring. 

“Well, the verdicts in. The original witch says the doppelganger should be dead.” Klaus says to who I can now see is Caroline and Tyler.

“Does that mean we can kill her,” Rebekah asks excitedly and I shoot her a nasty look. 

“No, I’m fairly certain it means the opposite,” Within a second Rebekah is grabbing onto Caroline holding her back as Klaus gives Tyler a vial of Elena’s blood. The latter drinks it. And in a split second, he’s convulsing on the floor and groaning in pain. I flinch back when Tyler screams in pain as he grabs his head. But when he stops and opens his eyes I gasp as I see his once brown eyes have illuminated to gold and dark veins make their way up his face. 

“Well, that’s a good sign.”

—

“Where are you taking me,” I ask Klaus as he leads me out of the school doors and into the parking lot. 

“Stop talking,” He bites out.

I roll my eyes and continue walking but freeze in horror as I see Alastair leaning against his car. He notices me and Klaus and stands to his full height.

“Alastair go!”

I run and try to warn him but as I get to him he doesn’t even look me in the eye. He’s staring behind me. At Klaus. 

“I’ll be leaving to find more wolves, mate,” I frown as Klaus speaks to my friend. 

“Shall I come,” My vision goes blurry as I watch in shock as Alastair responds to Klaus.

“Alastair…”

“No,” Klaus looks over to me with a smirk, “You’re still needed here.”

“What… Alastair what is he talking about, how do you-”

“Get in the car, Y/N,” Alastair’s cold voice says to me as he moves past me and opens the passenger door to his car. He doesn’t move his gaze away from Klaus who watches the interaction with a delighted smirk. 

“No! No! Not until you tell me what’s happening. You know him,” I yell and point in confusion and anger to Klaus. 

Alastair doesn’t look at me but he clenches his jaw.

“Get her home safe,” Klaus smirks at me, “Old friend.”

[cupcakeeees]

“She exists now only in my memory..”

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: a glimpse into an F1 racer’s guarded heart.

word count: 1k

Dear Diary,

Year 1: The Beginning

The first time I met her, it was late summer in Monaco. I was standing by the marina, pretending not to be as lost as I felt. The sun was setting behind the yachts, and the air smelled like salt and fresh starts.

That’s when I saw her. She wasn’t like anyone else. She had this way of existing - like the world bent toward her without her even realizing it.

She’d dropped her book while passing and I’d instinctively bent down to grab it.

Our hands brushed for a split second.

“Thanks,” she’d said, her voice soft but certain. I couldn’t think of anything clever to say, so I just blurted out, “What’s the book?”

That question turned into an hour-long conversation, sitting on the edge of the dock, our legs dangling over the water. She teased me for not having read her favorite author; I challenged her to name three F1 drivers.

“Bet you can’t even name me,” I’d joked.

She’d tilted her head, her smile mischievous. “I know who you are, Norris!”

Year 3: A Year Apart

I didn’t see her again for over a year.

Monaco wasn’t home anymore - it was just a place I passed through. Racing had taken me everywhere but where I wanted to be.

When I spotted her at a party, it felt like déjà vu. She stood across the room, glass in hand, laughing at some joke I hadn’t told.

I thought about walking up to her right away, but something held me back.

She looked .. different.

Like the pieces of her had rearranged in ways I didn’t recognize.

Finally, she noticed me. Her smile was the same, but her hug felt hesitant, like she wasn’t sure where I fit in her life anymore.

“You’ve been busy,” she’d said, her tone light but her eyes heavy.

“Yeah,” I replied, though I didn’t know if she meant the races or the distance I’d put between us.

We exchanged numbers again, promising to “catch up soon.” But soon turned into months, then silence.

Year 5: Everything and Nothing

That summer in London was everything I’d ever wanted - and nothing like I thought it would be.

We’d spent weeks wrapped in each other’s lives, her laughter filling the quiet moments I didn’t know I’d needed. She made me feel human again.

One night, as we sat on her balcony, a bottle of wine between us she leaned her head on my shoulder.

“What’s next for you?” she asked.

“Another race,” I said with a shrug. “And after that, another one.”

She didn’t say anything for a long time, just traced the rim of her glass with her finger. Finally, she asked, “Do you ever wonder what it would be like to stop?”

“Stop?” I repeated, as if the word itself didn’t make sense. “I don’t know how to.”

She sighed, pulling away slightly. “I know.”

That was the beginning of the end. By August, she was packing up her life, and I was leaving for yet another circuit.

She didn’t ask me to stay, and I didn’t ask her to come with me.

I think we both knew how it would go.

Year 8: The Last Goodbye

It was an accident- running into her in Amsterdam. I was at a café, waiting for my coffee, when I heard her voice behind me. I knew it was her before I even turned around.

She looked radiant, her happiness lighting up the room in a way that made my chest ache.

“Lando!” she exclaimed, her surprise genuine. “It’s been ages.”

I laughed nervously, shoving my hands into my pockets. “Yeah. You look good.”

“So do you.”

We talked for a while - small talk that felt too big and too small all at once. She mentioned her partner casually, as if it wouldn’t crush me to hear it.

“He’s great,” she said, her smile soft. “He makes me really happy.”

“That’s good,” I replied, though my voice cracked slightly.

When she stood to leave, she hesitated, her hand brushing my arm. “See you around, Lando.”

“Yeah, you too!”

And then she was gone, walking out into the rainy street, leaving me staring after her like I’d lost her all over again.

The Present:

Years later, I found out she was gone. A friend told me, so casually it felt cruel. An accident, they said.

It didn’t feel real - it still doesn’t.

Sometimes I think about the little things that linger: the messages I can’t delete, the book she left on my shelf in Monaco, the songs she used to hum when she thought no one was listening.

Sometimes, I dream about her.

In the dreams, she’s always laughing but always walking away from me.

I wake up reaching for something I’ll never hold again.

She’s gone. But she lives now, only in my memory.

So yes, dear diary.. I often go and sit by the marina in Monaco, the same spot where we first met.

The sunset dips below the horizon, and for a moment, I swear I can hear her laugh again.

[deliciousangelfestival]

The Christmas Shift | Bucky 🎄

Character: Bucky Barnes x Female! Reader

Prompt : We're doing a poor job hiding our relationship troubles at this family event. 

Part 1 : Holly Jolly Charade

Main Masterlist || If you enjoy my work, please consider buying me a coffee on Ko-fi 🙏🏻

By the way, I publish my book Arrogant Ex-Husband on Kindle. 👉 Now available on e-Kindle Amazon! << here's the link.

Thank you to everyone who has read this chapter. Leave a comment and Reblog, please. I'd love to hear your thoughts. ❤️

It’s two days before Christmas, and you decided to go back home.

Your hand moved slowly to close the apartment door. It felt like you were forgetting something. Last year, he would always double-check the door before locking it.

This Christmas could be the last one, you thought, sighing.

You were headed to your parent's home for Christmas this time—mainly because your annoying aunt Teresa wouldn’t be there. On the ride, it was usually just you and Bucky, who started as a fake couple but ended up in a real marriage.

But it seemed like the honeymoon phase was over. You and Bucky had just had a big argument, which led him to stay at a hotel for a few days. That’s why you were here alone.

Your mom, Robin, greeted you with a hug. “Did the company lock you up?” she asked with a smile. “I’m glad you’re here before the storm.” She helped you take off your coat. “Bucky’s already here.”

You widened your eyes in surprise. He’s here?

“He’s got a much more relaxed schedule than you,” she added casually.

After Bucky resigned from the company, he invested in drone cameras and outdoor equipment. Since his hobby was photography, it seemed like the perfect fit. He made a good decision and gained a lot of profit. His work was successful, but his schedule was much more laid-back than yours.

As you walked into the living room, you saw Bucky talking to your dad and your cousins. He noticed you and made his way over to you, offering a side hug.

“What are you doing here?�� you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“I’d rather be here than with my dad, who’s with his third wife, and my mom, who’s with her new boyfriend,” he whispered, his lips brushing your forehead.

You and Bucky were in the room, sitting on opposite sides of the bed. The distance between you both felt greater than it ever had before. The usual closeness you shared during Christmas wasn’t there. Both of you acted like everything was fine, but your parents noticed.

Robin, sensing the tension, quietly led you to the master bedroom. “What’s going on? It feels like there’s a wall between you two.”

You sighed, your hands nervously fidgeting with the hem of your sweater. “It’s…,” you hesitated, struggling to find the right words. “We…” You usually had the confidence to speak up at the company, but talking about your relationship with Bucky made your stomach knot.

On the other side of the house, your father was talking to Bucky in the living room. “Did you make a mistake with my daughter?”

Bucky looked at him, surprised. “How did you know?”

“Son, I’ve been married for 35 years. I would know. So, you did something,” your father said firmly, though not unkindly.

Bucky sighed deeply, running a hand through his hair. “She wants a baby. I’m not ready.”

Your father’s brow furrowed. “Why’s that?”

Bucky’s voice softened, and his eyes looked distant. “Because I’m afraid. I don’t think I’ll be a good father. Look at my parents. You saw them at the wedding.”

Your father nodded, understanding the depth of his concerns. “Well… it’s complicated. But you’re you, not your father.” He placed his hand on Bucky's shoulder. “You're a good man for acknowledging your doubts. It's not a shame, son. Everyone feels nervous about being a parent.”

Meanwhile, in the master bedroom, Robin sat across from you, her hand resting gently on yours. “Listen, I know things aren’t easy right now, but you and Bucky can make it. There will be challenges ahead, but that doesn’t mean it’s the end. You’ve built something real together, and that counts for a lot.”

You looked at her, searching for the reassurance you needed. Robin gave you a small, encouraging smile. “You’ve both come this far. You’ll find a way through this too. Just remember, love isn’t perfect—it’s about sticking together, even when it’s hard.”

Later that evening, you finally found the courage to talk to Bucky. He was sitting on the couch, his arms crossed as he stared out the window. You walked up to him, and without saying a word, he pulled you into a tight embrace.

“I’m ready,” Bucky whispered into your hair, his voice low but steady. “I’m in it. If you’re in it.”

You held him tighter, your heart feeling lighter. “We’re doing a poor job hiding our relationship troubles at this family event.” You chuckled softly, pulling back just enough to look up at him.

He smiled, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face. “Yeah, but we’ll figure it out. Together.”

And the next Christmas, both of you came home—this time, with a beautiful, giggling baby girl in your arms. Bucky and you became the best parents this baby girl ever had.

Taglist:

@thezombieprostitute

@mostlymarvelgirl

@scott-loki-barnes

@kjah97

@jeremyrennermakesmesmile

[bbokarimenu]

Proud Dad, Happy Heart

pairing: idoldadbangchan!x fem reader!

genre: fluff

warnings: none

an: last one for today ☺️

Masterlist

The studio was electric with anticipation. Stray Kids were scheduled to perform on Music Bank, and I was seated front row with our five-year-old daughter, Hana, perched on my lap. The cheers of the audience vibrated through the walls, the energy infectious as the lights dimmed and the crew prepared the stage for the performance.

Beside me, Hana clutched my hand, her blue eyes wide as she watched the team of stylists and crew members bustling around, getting everything ready for the boys. Chan, her dad, would be performing in just a few minutes. It would be the first time since Hana’s fifth birthday that she would watch him on stage. She had always been a proud little girl, but today, her excitement seemed to overflow with every beat of the music coming from the rehearsals behind the stage curtains.

“Are you ready to see Daddy, Hana?” I asked, brushing a stray lock of her hair back.

She nodded eagerly, her ponytail bouncing with her enthusiasm. “I’m so ready, Mum!” she exclaimed, her voice carrying through the low hum of the crowd.

As the crew finished setting up, I noticed Hana’s fingers nervously twisting around the edge of her dress. It was a cute, little floral number I had picked out for her, one that she insisted on wearing for the occasion. “He’s going to be amazing, Hana. Just like always.”

Hana nodded again, but I could see the worry in her eyes. “What if I mess up? I don’t want Daddy to get worried.”

I squeezed her hand gently. “You won’t mess up. Daddy is going to be so proud of you, just like we’re proud of him.”

The audience grew louder as the clock ticked closer to showtime. Hana’s eyes scanned the stage, looking for any sign of Chan. “Where is he, Mum?”

“He’s getting ready in his dressing room. He’ll be out soon,” I reassured her, glancing at the monitor where the boys were making final adjustments before heading on stage. I could spot Chan, fussing with his hair and adjusting his outfit. Even from a distance, I could see the familiar lines of concentration on his face, the way his shoulders slightly hunched with the weight of anticipation.

“Look, Mum!” Hana tugged at my sleeve, pointing toward the stage. “They’re coming out!”

I followed her gaze, and sure enough, Stray Kids lined up, ready to make their entrance. The cheers from the audience grew louder, a sea of light sticks waving in the darkened studio. The boys took their positions, and the music began to play.

As the beat started, I could see Chan step forward. His eyes scanned the audience, landing on us briefly before he focused back on the performance. His movements were smooth, confident, his voice hitting every note with precision. It was clear he had poured every bit of himself into this performance, and I couldn’t have been more proud.

Hana’s face lit up with excitement as she watched her dad. “Mum, is that Daddy?” she asked, her voice tinged with awe.

“Yep, that’s him,” I replied, brushing a tear from my cheek. “Isn’t he amazing?”

She nodded, her eyes wide and bright as she continued to watch him. “I want to dance just like him when I grow up.”

“Well, maybe not just like him,” I teased gently, squeezing her hand. “But it’s good to have big dreams.”

As Stray Kids launched into their first song, Hana was completely captivated. She watched intently, mimicking their dance moves and singing along under her breath. Each time Chan came forward, she would clap louder, shouting encouragement to him as if he could hear her through the crowd.

I laughed softly, marveling at the sight of my little girl cheering for her dad. The bond they shared was unmistakable, even from a distance. It was the kind of connection that defied logic, rooted deeply in love and shared experiences.

Mid-performance, as Chan took the microphone for his solo, he caught my eye briefly. There was a soft, reassuring smile on his lips, a silent acknowledgment of his presence in our lives. It was as if he were silently saying, I’m here, and I love you. My heart swelled with emotion.

As the music transitioned into the next track, the energy on stage shifted. The boys were in their element, their chemistry evident as they moved seamlessly from one song to the next. Chan’s confidence was unmistakable, his gaze occasionally straying toward us in the audience. I could see him mouthing the words I love you whenever the spotlight hit him.

“Is Daddy tired?” Hana asked softly, leaning into me. “He’s been singing a lot.”

“He’s not tired, sweetheart. He’s just really into the performance,” I assured her, stroking her hair. “And remember, he loves doing this. It’s his dream.”

Hana nodded, still watching intently. “He loves us too, right?”

I smiled down at her, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Of course, he does. More than anything.”

As the last song drew to a close, Stray Kids took their final bows, sweat glistening on their skin under the studio lights. The crowd’s cheers were deafening, and I could see Chan searching the audience until his eyes found ours. A small, appreciative wave went in our direction, and Hana’s face broke into a radiant smile, her hands waving furiously.

“Good job, Daddy!” she shouted over the noise, her voice full of pride.

Chan’s smile widened as he spotted us. He gestured toward Hana, making a heart with his hands, then blew her a kiss. The sight made my heart swell with pride and love.

The boys exited the stage, but Chan lingered for a moment longer. He took a moment to catch his breath, his chest rising and falling with effort. Then, he made his way toward us, weaving through the crew and past security.

When he finally reached us, Hana launched herself into his arms. “Daddy!” she squealed, her tiny arms wrapping around his neck. “You were amazing!”

Chan chuckled, his eyes crinkling with joy. “Thank you, baby. Did you have fun watching me?”

Hana nodded, her cheeks flushed with excitement. “It was the best!”

I stepped forward, my heart full. “You were fantastic, Chan. As always.”

Chan gave me a grateful smile, his gaze softening. “Thank you, love. And thank you for bringing Hana here today. It means the world to me.”

“You’re welcome,” I replied, stepping closer to give him a quick kiss on the lips. “We wouldn’t have missed it for the world.”

As we started to make our way out of the studio, Chan reached for my hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. “That was a good show,” he said, his voice warm with satisfaction. “But you know what’s the best part?”

“What’s that?” I asked, glancing up at him.

“Having you two here to share it with me,” Chan replied, his eyes flicking to Hana who was chattering animatedly about the performance. “It makes everything better. Seeing you both in the audience is what keeps me going.”

Hana skipped ahead, her little legs carrying her with ease. “I want to be on stage like Daddy one day,” she declared.

Chan looked down at her, his expression tender. “You can be whatever you want, baby. Just remember to dream big.”

I watched them, my heart full of love and gratitude. There was no denying the deep bond between them. As they walked ahead, talking about the show and life in general, I couldn’t help but feel blessed. Hana was growing up in a world where her dad was a star, but more importantly, she was growing up surrounded by love—love from a father who was always present, always proud, and always there to catch her when she fell.

As we exited the building and stepped into the quiet of the parking lot, I wrapped my arms around them both, pulling them close. “We’re so proud of you, Chan,” I whispered, feeling the weight of his sacrifices and the depth of his commitment to both family and career.

Chan smiled, pressing a kiss to my temple. “Thank you, love. I couldn’t ask for anything more.”

And as we drove away from the studio, Hana’s voice rang out from the backseat. “Daddy, I’m so glad I got to see you today.”

I smiled, looking back at her in the rearview mirror. “We’re glad too, sweetheart. More than you know.”

[arosesstorm]

wreathe ; sebastian sallow

words count: long read

fem reader! x Sebastian Sallow

warning: jealous Sebastian

summary: Sebastian looks like her bestfriend under the sunlight, but as soon as the night comes the lines get blurry and everyone's obvious to it.

part one, I guess?

English is not my first language, trying my best, enjoy :)

Sebastian was known for being a charmer and a good learner; people whispered about his ability in dueling and his look was praised by many. 

He had a habit of breaking the rules and he was stubborn, as much as it was allowed. 

What most people didn’t know about him though was that the boy had in fact scares so deep, every once in a while they started to bleed. 

And god was Sebastian Sallow hot headed. 

"Ominis!" You couldn’t help but wrap your arms around the boy’s neck as soon as you saw him. 

"I missed you" you whispered into the boy’s chest, his arms slowly holding you closer. 

"Well well, isn’t this our very own savior" the boy muttered smiling. 

After everything that had happened the year prior, Ominis had been a constant in your life; exchanging letters almost every day over summer, the two of you had met up to hang out a few times too. 

He used to tell you about his family issues while you confessed yours. 

Your bond became so strong you felt he was the brother you never had. 

"Y/n!" You turned your head just in time to see Anne sprint your way and wrap her arms around your torso. 

"Anne" you smiled, embracing her, "it’s good to see you". 

She looked good, you couldn’t help but notice, her cheeks were pink, and she seemed to have gained a few pounds too; she was surely looking much better than the last time you had saw her. 

"I can’t tell you how excited I am to be back, even if I have a load of work to catch up to", a breath and then a whisper: "uncle Solomon won’t admit it but he’s happy he is finally alone". 

Anne left your side then to crush into Ominis. 

That’s when your eyes had met his. 

"No hugs for me?" The boy had asked, with that same playful tone you’ve grown to love. 

If possible, your smile grew bigger.

"Sebastian" you mumbled, letting the brunette cage you in a hug. 

Sebastian had always been your light in your time at Hogwarts: with all the fights, the heartbreak and the laughters he had somehow guided you through your first year in the magical world. 

Sticking by his side at first felt natural, like you two were somehow tied together; that was, until you grew attached and your new best friend felt more like a man to you. 

Everyone knew: you, Sebastian and Ominis were a solid trio, when you were looking for one you always found the other two nearby. 

But this year, with the newfound health of Anne since the death of Lockwood, your trio was about to become a quartet and you were somehow excited. 

"How have you been?" You whispered in Sebastian’s ear, his nose brushing against your hair as he muttered back: "Good, kinda missed you". 

"Come on guys! We’re gonna be late!" Anne was excitedly pushing you towards the great hall before you could protest. 

Back in your seats, with Sebastian’s shoulder brushing against yours, you realized how affected you actually were by his presence. 

This year was going to be a long one… 

The morning after, you woke up to an excited Anne walking around the room putting on her robes as she was chased by Imelda’s harsh insults. 

"Please shut up" the brunette pleaded as the Sallow girl kept on rumbling how exciting this whole journey was going to be. 

"It’s first day, can you guys believe it?" She squitted, disappearing into the Common room, leaving you two behind. 

"I swear if she doesn’t calm down".

When you saw the girl again you couldn’t help but notice her bright eyes as she was laughing with Ominis at the Breakfast table. 

"Goodmorning" you spoke, approaching your friends, sliding swiftly beside Sebastian. 

"Good morning to you" the boy spoke, gently brushing your shoulder once you were seated. 

"What were you guys talking about?" 

"Ah! They were vexing me" Sebastian spoke "it is fortunate you came to rescue me". 

"Oh Sallow, how many times will I have to save your ass?" 

Anne chuckled out loud as Sebastian let out a scoff "nevermind, you’re even worse than them" 

Before heading to your first lesson of the day, Charms, you passed by the Gryffindor table, hoping to see the friends you still haven’t had the opportunity to meet. 

"Natty!" 

The girl turned around with a smile, "y/n! How have you been? Did you receive my owl?" 

"I very much did, thank your granny for those cookies, they were amazing". 

"Which cookies? And why didn’t I get any?" Garreth’s voice rose from beside natty as you aknolowged the boy. 

His red hair were longer and his shoulders broader, it was hard to tell since he was seated, but you could definetly say he had grown up. 

"Shut up, Garreth" Natty had dismissed the boy as you left the table. 

Ominis was waiting for you at the entrance as you both left to class. 

That night, seated by the fire in your common room, you were reading a book while Anne was making small conversation with Imelda. 

You didn’t know how the conversation led to it, but Grreth’s name was brought up, Imelda noticing how much the ginger had grown over summer, pointing out he would have made a fine beater. 

"You were talking to him this morning, weren’t you y/n?" 

Your attention was suddenly brought back to the present. 

"Yes", "could there be something tender?" Imelda smirked as your nose left the pages to focus on the conversation. 

"Obviously not" you had replied, to which Anne softly smiled, "Imelda, quiet down, people are gonna hear us". 

"You’re no fun" she had replied, changing topic. 

That night, as you lied in bed, you kept on asking yourself if in fact you were somehow charmed by Weasley, or any boy for that matter and the answer came like a whisper, so soft you couldn’t hear it either. 

"Who do you think is gonna make team this year?" Anne had asked, walking with you, Omins and Sebastian to Hogsmade. 

"Why do you suddenly care about Quidditch?" Sebastian had asked. 

"I haven’t seen a game in ages!" She replied stern.

The bickering between twins bringing a smile to your face as you locked your arm with Ominis, "hey you".

While the twins bickering fell into the background, Ominis turned to you "what about this thing with Weasley?" 

"Ominis!" You scolded suddenly, taken aback by his comment, "how do you know?" 

Ominis scrolled his shoulders "so it is true? You fancy him?" 

"Who fancies whom?" Sebastian had token a step forward, suddenly intrigued by your discussion with Omins as you held the blond boy’s arm tighter, that was enough of an answer for him. 

"Oh nobody, just stupid chatters" the boy dismissed before Sebastian could investigate further. 

The thought of you fancying someone hunted the boy for the rest of the day, even when the night had quieted the chatter down and everyone went to sleep. 

He couldn’t stop thinking about it, so he left the warmth of his bedsheets, putting on a green and silver jumper and disappearing into the corridors. 

Making his way to the common room Sebastian was surprised to see someone else there. 

Their head was stuck in a book and their legs curled up onto the couch. 

He had recognized right away the silhouette and he felt like smiling. 

You had escaped your room that night, determined to finish the book you had been reading. 

It didn’t startle you when you felt a weight pop beside you on the couch, instead you couldn’t help but smile when Sebastian lowered the book from your hands, meeting your gaze. 

"Come back to me, will you?" He had whispered chuckling. 

"I was just about to find out where the main character had disappeared to" you answered, your smile betraying your fake annoyance. 

Sebastian chuckled again, his gaze shifting towards the fire. 

"Couldn’t sleep?" You asked then, your gaze worried. 

The boy hummed. 

This scene had happened so many times already: the boy sadly confessing the pain of his sister’s illness to you, in the dark of the common room, only allowing himself to be vulnerable in your presence. 

But this time, this time his sister was better, sleeping peacefully upstairs and you were there, with your eyes sleepy and your skin warm. 

So Sebastian found himself smiling as he looked your way. 

Your arm was resting on the back of the couch as it held your heavy head up, you were facing him, your breathing softly pleasant. 

"Do you really fancy someone?" The boy found himself ask, suddenly. 

You chuckled, looking at him playfully. 

"Why?" You had asked. 

"Just curious, you never told me you liked someone". 

"It’s not- it’s Imelda starting stupid rumors to see me flustered, that’s all" you reassure. 

He could finally relax, his back meeting the cushions as his fingers traveled to your leg. 

"You want to finish the book, don’t you?" 

"It’s fine" you laughed, but Sebastian didn’t buy it. 

"Come on, finish it, I’ll keep you company". 

It was hard to focus back on the story, with his hand tracing small circles above your bare leg, but it became quickly a gentle caress as you kept on reading. 

It was ten minutes later when you started to get sleepier. 

"Seb" you muttered closing the book, the boy humming while looking at you. 

"We should get some sleep". 

"Maybe we should" 

Neither of you making the move to leave. 

"I’m comfy" you admit laughing softly.

"Let’s not leave yet, then" he spoke. 

The fire was cracking in the background when you shifted, moving closer to the boy, your head now resting on his shoulder as you fell into the warmth of his body. 

Sebastian held his hand firmer on your leg now, helping you get closer, as he rested his head on top of yours. 

"Would you tell me?" He asked then. 

"Tell you what?" 

"If you fancied someone, would you tell me?" 

"Yes Sebastian, if I’ll ever find someone pleasant enough, I promise I will tell you first". 

Four weeks had passed since the start of term and with October approaching the air had got chillier and the days shorter. 

You had spent the last three hours in the library, making a research for a new species of mimbulus mimbletonia, something professor Sharp believed to be absolutely essential and you were ready to hide into the comfort of your room and fall asleep. 

"Y/n!" 

Your eyes travelled the room till they settled on the young man dressed in red and gold making his way towards you. 

"Hey, Garreth" 

"Hey" he smiled softly, "were you headed to your common room?" 

"Yes"

"Mind if I accompany you?"

"Hu? Ah no, you can come". 

You and the boy left the library, heading for the dungeons. 

"I was wondering if you had a spere hour tomorrow morning? If I can be honest with you I’m not keeping up well with Onai’s crap about tea leaves". 

You couldn’t help but slip a laugh.

"So now you’re laughing at me?" a playful smile plastered on his lips.

"No, no, I’m sorry."

You turned to your right, Garrett following behind as you started to walk down the stairs. 

"I have a free hour right after breakfast, sounds good?". 

Garreth’s smile widened "sound lovely to me". 

"What is it that you fail to get about the art of predicting catastrophes?" You teased as the boy stroke his neck. 

"I seem to prefer to see only the bright side" 

Letting out a stern chuckle you jumped the last step, the sliver snake appearing on the wall as you turned around to face the ginger. 

"First lesson: there are no bright sings in divination". 

You herd someone caugh as you turned around, Sebastian was lying by the door, his eyes locked onto you. 

"Goodnight, Garreth" you spoke as you made your way into the Slytherin common room. 

Garreth looking at you disappear before Sebastian followed inside and the door turned to be a wall again. 

"Escorted by Weasley, huh?" 

The sound of the water fountain running in your ears as you made your way downstairs with Sebastian. 

"It seems so" you had replied distracted, something that sent Sebastian’s soul on fire. 

As soon as you stepped into the common room, Imelda’s voice rose up. 

"So I was right? Weasley boy for the win?" 

You scoffed and Sebastian felt his body go still. 

Were you really going out with that loser? 

He didn’t know how much it bothered him, until the following day, at breakfast as he was talking about something funny that happened in his class you excused yourself, mumbling you had to meet up with someone. 

Of course, that someone was Weasley and of course, as impulsive as he was, he was tempted to follow you. 

"Sebastian" Ominis had called, sensing the shifting of his robes, "please don’t do it". 

Sebastian had scoffed then, returning to his place, violently eating was was left in his plate. 

He had time to calm down until he saw you again: your shoulders were moving up and down softly as you rested your head on a potion’s book, peacefully swimming into sleep. 

It felt like his anger disappeared for a second as he pulled a chair close to yours, his own head resting on the table as he looked at you. 

He stole a few glances at your harmless form, before squeezing your shoulder softly. 

He felt like choking when you softly smiled at him as soon as you your eyes opened. 

"Sebastian" you spoke, a voice so soft he thought he had never heard something more adorable in his life. 

"Why are you resting your head on the table?" You had asked then, to which Sebastian smiled. 

"I heard this is were we take naps" the boy teased as you shifted softly, a strand of hair falling into your eyes. 

Sebastian’s finger brushed it off softly, moving a strand behind your ear, discovering your face once again. 

That gesture might have woken you up suddenly because you jumped on your seat, quickly collecting your things.

"Oh god, I really fell asleep!" 

"Hey, hey, calm down there, will you?" 

But your panic only increased as you saw what time it was. 

"I was supposed to meet Garrett half an hour ago!" 

"Garret? Again?" 

"Yes, we didn’t get to finish this morning"

If he had known that waking you up would have resulted in you leaving him behind for Weasley, he would have much preferred watching you sleep. 

Sebastian got up at the same time as you, his anger coming back to him in waves, "does Weasley really need your help?". 

You looked taken aback "yes, he has told me himself he needs help in divination". 

Sebastian chuckled darkly, "and he asked you?" 

"Are you saying I’m not competent enough?" Your demeanour suddenly changed and Sebastian witnessed as your soft aura started to tint black. 

He knew this side of you, he had seen it one to many times and it didn’t scare him, in fact, it fascinated him. 

The fire in your eyes was matched now, as Sebastian grew taller. 

"I’m saying you wouldn’t be the first person that pops into my mind". 

You scoffed then, holding the books closer to your chest, pride filling your lungs. 

"How about you leave the adults to study and mind your business?"

"The adults?"

"Yes you child" 

You tried to turn away from him then, but the boy wouldn’t let you go far. 

"Hey! Don’t turn your back on me while I’m talking!"

"You’re not talking Sebastian, you’re behaving like a five years old"

"Said the one who can’t finish a conversation like two mannered people!"

Your eyes got bigger "are you saying I’m not well mannered either?" 

A sigh escaped your lips "listen Sallow-"

"Sallow?"

"That’s still your name isn’t it?" 

"Thought you preferred to call me something else". 

That unusual use of words didn’t go unheard from you, as you stared deep into the boy’s orbits. 

"Careful there, Sallow, you sound almost-"

"Almost what?" The brunette challenged you. 

You felt your blood boil as a voice raised from the students around"get a room!" Someone yelled out. 

"Shut it!" You both replied, parting ways, boiling inside, holding hands with pride. 

"She’s so stubborn!" Sebastian huffed.

"Mh what a news" Omins mumbled. 

"It’s just, do you even think she’s good in divination?" 

Ominis did seem startled by the question, but he answered nonetheless. 

"I mean, is there a thing y/n is not good at?" 

Sebastian couldn’t answer as he sighed flustered. 

"He’s a nightmare Anne!" Y/n complained pacing back and forward into their room. 

The twin of her best friend, who was at the moment an annoying prick, was resting on her bed, trying to take care of a strange purple plant. 

The Sallow girl hummed, listening to her friend rumble. 

"He practically attacked me! Saying I’m incompetent? After everything I did?" 

"You know he doesn’t think that about you" Anne scolded. 

"But he said it! The way he was looking at me Anne, I felt like jinxing him on the spot!"

The twin left a chuckle, "you know he’s protective of you y/n". 

Y/n fell into the bed, her hands tight knots as she sighed flustered, "the way that boy riles me up!"

© 2024 of Mia (arosesstorm). All Rights Reserved.

[klausysworld]

This request might be too much and I don’t want to make anyone uncomfortable. So pls ignore if it does.

My idea is Klaus x human reader. Klaus and her become close and form a friendship. She’s dating someone for 4 years now and it starts to get abusive (mentally/physically or both). She finally confides and confesses to Klaus after he notices something is off. He basically helps her get out of it when one day said boyfriend follows her into the mikaleson house and tries to get reader out of there aggressively. The mikaelson’s hear the commotion and Klaus does something.

Flash forward to Klaus and reader in an established relationship, though reader is scared to be intimate as she’s still struggling from last relationship. One day Klaus and reader are getting into it and Klaus pulls her by her ankles to bring her towards him and it triggers her fight or flight (as Klaus doesn’t know last bf used to do that when hurting reader) and so instantly she hits him in self defence and then profusely apologizes. But Klaus is just understanding and holds her and tells her he loves her and if all he gets is holding her. Then he can live with that. The way it ends can be however you want.

Just been going through some things and needed to feel and I absolutely love your style of writing.

Again pls ignore if this makes you uncomfortable, that’s not my intent! Thank you!

(Triggering content, please don't read this if it might trigger you and know that both myself and so many people are there for you to talk to)

Her protector

Klaus had been concerned for a few weeks now.

Y/n was a sweet human, she was kind even to the Mikaelsons and had become close friends Rebekah after helping her choose a necklace for a party she was hosting. Rebekah proceeded to insist that Y/n come and that she would love to make some friends here in New Orleans.

If Rebekah was honest, she was surprised when Y/n actually showed up, with a vampire boyfriend no less. Either way she showed the girl around and they got talking, drinking and dancing. Y/n's boyfriend had seemed sweet, loving and on top of that he was friends with Marcel, one of his few day-walkers.

At that point everything was still okay. Mostly.

Until Klaus had come over and attempted to flirt with Y/n. Her soft cheeks had started to turn pink when a man, a vampire, slung his arm over her shoulders from behind her and gave Klaus a threatening glare. Rebekah let out a tipsy giggle and smacked Klaus's arm

"Leave her alone Nik, she's taken and my friend" she grinned but Klaus only stared back at the other guy. Y/n glanced between the two for a second and Bex rolled her eyes. "Come on Y/n, let them gaze at one another" she laughed, grabbing her hand and pulling her away.

Klaus didn't like that anybody thought they could challenge him, he didn't care if the girl was married if he wanted to flirt with her then he would. There was no harm done but the man before him was acting as though he had slaughtered his family.

However Marcel had seen the two in a silent stare down and threw his arms over both of them "My two best guys" he grinned "Lets go get a drink"

And so somehow Klaus found himself some-what drunk and laughing with this man, it was only the next morning when after he woke did he realise the way the guy spoke about his lover was a little off. He talked like he owned her, like she was a toy.

Klaus brushed it off though, it's not like he hadn't done similar things. Besides it's not like her knew her.

Until he did. And she was so lovely that it confused him.

Often Rebekah would have her over, painting each others nails, one of those time Klaus had stumbled in covered in cuts and scrapes. Rebekah offered a tut and a shake of her head but Y/n was already at his side, her hand on his arm while she asked if he was okay.

"He's fine, it's his own fault anyway. Always starting fights" she mumbled while watching her new friend help her brother sit down. She asked Rebekah to go get him some blood which she reluctantly did, handing it to Y/n and watching in interest as she lifted it to his lips. Klaus's eyes watched her with interest as his lips wrapped around the top and he began to gulp down the red substance. She checked his wounds were healing as he drained the bag of every last drop.

She had offered to help him clean up but he shook his head and told her to enjoy her day with his sister.

After that she was always nice to him, making him a drink if she was already getting one, bringing him back to eat when her and Bex had been at a cafe or something. She would tell him his hair looked nice or that she liked certain colours on him. One way or another she always made him smile.

Y/n knew that Klaus was lonely, often sad or grumpy. She had seen it and been told it so she made an effort to brighten his days. Rebekah always said it was nice seeing her brother a little happier and she was glad that them being originals didn't put Y/n off.

Their friendship grew strong and so did Klaus and Y/n's. Until one day when Y/n's boyfriend had seen her fixing Klaus's hair, using her fingers to curl the top pieces. He didn't say anything to her then but once she came home accusations were thrown at her. She was called a cheater and a slut, desperate for attention and fucking stupid if she thought either of the Mikaelsons thought of her as anything more than a toy.

She slept on the couch, crying her eyes out and cancelling her plans with Rebekah for the next day.

She tried to spend less time with her but Bex only got upset and ended up at Y/n's house instead. Y/n thought that he wouldn't get mad if it was just Bekah and no Klaus. So she and Rebekah went to hers more often than not and the few times she went back to the abattoir she would try avoid Klaus.

She was always polite of course, smiled at him and said hello but she didn't get too close if she didn't feel that she had to. Nor did she say anything about how he looked, even when he wore her favourite henley and grew his curls a little longer.

The only times she gave him some extra attention was when he was physically injured. She couldn't help herself. She couldn't let him struggle alone and in pain. So she would be there with a warm, wet cloth wiping away any blood while she held him a blood-bag to his mouth.

"Have I upset you recently sweetheart?" he asked quietly as she cleaned the stains off his neck

"No?" she whispered and he lowered her head to look up at her and catch her eyes

"Then why won't you look at me?" he questioned and she shrugged, looking into his eyes

"I am" she stated and he hummed

"You haven't been very nice to me lately, love" he told her and she nibbled her lip nervously

"I didn't mean to upset you" she murmured but he just stared at her for a moment

"I haven't seen you around much" he muttered

"I've been at home more, Bekah comes to me instead" she mumbled, and he nodded, leaving the conversation at that.

But he didn't know that when she got home her boyfriend had her by the hair, telling her that he had seen her talking with Klaus. Seen her caressing his face and going into his room. She tried to explain that he was hurt and that she was helping him but he couldn't care less.

"Bet you were fucking helping him" he seethed "Bet he gets all pent up after starting wars. Needs to get his frustration out hm?" he laughed cruelly and she shook her head

"No, no- I would never! You know I would never-" she cried but he refused to believe her.

"You were always such a whore, can't go ten fucking minutes without begging for it" he growled, dragging her to their room. She was useless at fighting back, he was a vampire and significantly bigger than her. So when she was thrown onto the bed and grabbed tightly by the ankles, she couldn't kick at him without him snapping her legs.

She hid away after that night, telling Rebekah that she was sick and didn't want to see anyone for a few days.

But once a week had passed and her boyfriend was still angry at her no matter what she did, she knew she needed to get out and see someone or she would go mad.

Rebekah and her had gone to a coffee shop, Y/n wanted to be somewhere public and without the risk of Klaus or her boyfriend showing up.

Rebekah could tell something was wrong though, Y/n was never that quiet or skittish. She was walking a little funny and did't eat much at all. And at any mention of Klaus, Y/n shut down the conversation in seconds. It made Bex think that her brother had hurt her or scared her so when they both returned home, she began to accuse Klaus, questioning and demanding.

It only made both Mikaelsons to become worried. They didn't realise how their whispering about Y/n caught her so called lovers attention and made him go back to her furious.

He always seemed to be flooded with anger recently. He hadn't ever been so horrid for so long in the past. Accusing her of cheating was something that always had happened, his jealousy had always been an issue but never this bad. Maybe it was because he knew that Klaus wouldn’t back down if he wanted her. Maybe it was because of whatever drunken conversation the two had on the first night they met.

Either way there was no excuse.

All there was, was fear and pain. And she knew that she needed to get out. The only people who could save her from a psychotic vampire was an even worse one.

So she climbed out her own bathroom window and ran, caught a cab and then climbed in through one of the Mikaelson's windows. It was late, dark but it was the best time for her to escape. What wasn't helpful was the amount of night-walkers that were downstairs. Most of which, were close with her boyfriend so she was screwed.

However, whether it was luck or fate, Rebekah and Marcel came down the stairs, arguing which made the others scatter off. It gave her the opportunity she needed.

She darted up the stairs, as quietly as she could and to Klaus's room. Trying to open the door but it was locked making her knock quietly "Klaus?" she whispered desperately "Klaus please" she begged, her eyes leaking with tears. She banged her fist agains the wood of the door making her wince from how her wrists had been held just hours before.

A tired grunt sounded from the other side before the door was ripped open, a very annoyed hybrid on the other side though his demeanour dropped when he felt a body latch onto his, arms around his mid-section and face in his chest.

He looked down, his eyes fully open now. "Y/n?" he mumbled, his hand cupping the back of her head.

"Please help" she whispered and he gently scooped her up, flicking the lamp on and putting her in his bed. She was in. sweatpants and one of her boyfriends shirts so he assumed she must've been in bed before she came. He quickly grabbed some sleep pants to cover himself up as he was in only his boxers.

He then sat beside her, letting her pull herself closer to her with a soft cry leaving her lips. He held her close in his lap and shushed her gently "What's happened?" he asked gently but she shook her head.

It was only another minute before Rebekah was at the door, she had heard the crying and recognised it as Y/n. Her face dropped and she came rushing in. She got onto the bed as well and stroked her hair "Y/n..." she breathed, holding her hand. Klaus and her exchanged a look as they listened to her try and hiccup her tears away.

"Sweetheart it's alright" he whispered, rubbing her back under the shirt before he noticed her face scrunch in pain and he frowned. "She's hurt" he mumbled and Rebekah quickly sat up straight, lifting her top slightly despite her protests to see the bite marks in her flesh.

"Christ" Bekah gasped and Klaus's expression darkened. He lifted her up to straddle his lap sp he could have a better look at her but she began to cry out hysterically at the position and he quickly lay her back down, guilt and worry consuming him when she crawled to Rebekah instead. Bex wrapped her arms around her and whispered quietly for only Y/n to hear. "Who did this?" she uttered, her fingers gently running through her soft hair. "Was it..." she trailed, but the look on Y/n's face was enough.

"I didn't know where else to go- he knows so many people" she sobbed and Rebekah nodded

"He won't touch you now" She whispered, looking to Klaus who was halfway out the door to find Marcel. "Nik's gonna take care of it all okay?"

"What's he gonna do?"

"You don't need to know that honey" she murmured softly.

They waited for a little while, Y/n stayed in Rebekah's arms and started telling her everything that had happened. By the time she was finished they were both crying and wrapped up in Klaus's duvet

"The worst part is that...I do think that I have feelings for Klaus" she whispered "he was right-"

"It wouldn't matter if you were actually sleeping with another man, under no circumstances does he have the right to lay a hand on you. You're not any of those things he called you, you're an angel" Rebekah told her, stroking her hair gently. Bekah glanced up to see Klaus stood in the doorway, eyes soft as he made his way back over.

He had heard Y/n admit to her feelings but knew that now was not the time to tell her he reciprocated them, he knew she would need time. So instead he just came back to his bed and shifted in beside her so she was between him and Rebekah.

"He ran as soon as he saw me but I promise I'll find him and I'll kill him" he whispered, gently brushing his hand over her back. "It'll be okay, just close your eyes sweetheart, I'll protect you" he promised, sharing a look with Rebekah as they all laid down and he flicked the lamp off.

After that night, Y/n slept in Klaus's bed every night. He kept her close to him during the days too, pressed to his chest with his arm around her. She was much quieter after everything, he could sense her embarrassment but he didn’t understand it. It wasn't her fault this had happened to her. He tried to talk to her about it but she wouldn't look him in the eye and he was only making her uncomfortable so he tried not to bring it up. Instead things seemed to go back to somewhat normal, they complimented each other and had their usual conversations which were mostly about random things to keep their minds off any supernatural drama.

Klaus hadn't been going out much recently which meant she didn't have to clean him up but sometimes when they lay in bed to go sleep she would trace his face.

Everything appeared to be going well for a little while before Y/n's boyfriend showed up out of the blue. It was one of those unfortunate times that Klaus was out.

He sped behind Y/n while she was in the kitchen, slapping his hand over her mouth to silence her screaming as he lifted and dragged her toward the exit. Growling in her ear and called her a filthy whore, saying she would never escape him.

What he didn't know was that one of the other vampires saw him and were under direct orders to call Klaus if he was spotted.

Klaus came rushing in, his teeth straight in the man’s neck causing him to drop Y/n to the floor and cry out in agony as the werewolf venom too quick affect.

Klaus had Y/n in his arms within a second, vamp-speeding them to his their room. Her face was held against the crook of his neck, encouraging her to breath in his scent and calm her breathing.

“He’s gone” klaus whispers “He’ll be dead by tomorrow” he told her gently “And a werewolf bite is a slow and painful death for a vampire” he reminded. “He deserves to suffer” he muttered and she nodded slowly.

“I hate him” she uttered.

“I know you do sweetheart” he mumbled as he pressed soft kisses to the side of her head.

Everything was a little better after his body was found. She felt safe in the house without the risk of him grabbing her. She was able to sit with Klaus and Rebekah without the worry of someone watching her.

But it didn’t stop the night terrors. She would wake up screaming thinking that he had come back to life and had taken her, tortured her. Instead, however, she would find Klaus. Out of breath with a healing bruise on his face from where she hand fought back in her sleep. The apologies would start tumbling amongst her sobs but he would just pull her close and kiss her better. Promising it didn’t hurt and that he understood.

Often he would go into her mind, with her permission, and give her better things to think about. Give her peace.

That helped her a lot, between Klaus’s affection and Rebekah’s constant company, she began to feel happy.

She and Bekah went shopping a lot, went out for lunch again or just sat in Bex’s room talking and giggling. They both felt as though they had gained a sister of sorts. Rebekah was so glad to have Y/n and to be able to help her, she also really hoped that Y/n and Klaus would get married so that they were sister-in-laws.

Rebekah was their biggest supporter, always telling Y/n that Klaus wouldn’t ever hurt her and that he already loved her so she didn’t have to worry about the rejection. But Y/n was still nervous, she wasn’t sure if she was ready for another relationship.

But eventually, months down the line, kisses on the head became kisses on the lips. Their hugs became cuddle sessions and instead of eating in the same room they cooked together and ate together. Klaus planned extravagant dates while Y/n arranged much simpler but just as intimate ones. Klaus would beg Y/n to let him paint her and she begrudge dress up for him and pose.

The only issue in Y/n’s mind was that she didn’t feel comfortable enough when Klaus would touch her more sexually. As soon as the gentle touches became more frustrated, more needy, she couldn’t handle it.

But over time she got a little better, heavy make-out sessions became more and more common and part of her thought that maybe sex was on the table until something triggered her.

Klaus had his hands all over her, his tongue in her mouth as she moaned softly. Her hands were curled into his soft curls as she tugged gently. His hands slid up her top and her back arched slightly. Everything was going well, her legs were round his waist and soft little pleas left her lips for him to give her more.

He pulled away slowly, his nose just brushing hers as he sat up. He smiled down at her as she followed suit and sat up with him, her legs dropping down.

“You ready sweetheart?” He whispered and she nodded, his smile widened and he took ahold of her ankles. Just as he went to pull her closer, a panicked cry left her and her foot kicked him in the chest, hard.

His hands let go of her and he held his chest in confusion before looking up and seeing the fear in her face. His expression softened and he raised his hands in surrender “Y/n, love, it’s just me” he told her gently. “It’s okay” he whispered, cautiously he shifted closer.

“I’m sorry” she whispered, her eyes brimming with tears “I’m so sorry” she repeated, pulling her knees to her chest.

Gently he brought his hands out and picked her up, pulling her onto his lap “it’s okay, it was my fault” he mumbled, kissing her lips gently

“It’s not your fault- it’s mine, I’m broken” she cried but she shook her head.

“It’s his fault” he whispered and she let out a soft sob. “He hurt you, but you’ve never been broken. You’re just still hurting”

She sniffled and nuzzled close “I just…I wish could-“

“I know…I know but we can wait. We can wait for as long as you need” he murmured softly.

“But…what if I can’t…like ever?” She whispers but still he smiled

“Then I’ll just hold you and kiss you and take you to dinner like usual. I believe I owe you a bouquet of flowers, no?” He hummed and she wiped her eyes with a sniff

“You do?”

“I do, come on, we’ll go pick a bunch” he held her close and lifted her as he stood, carrying her down the stairs listening to her little laugh as she pressed her face to his chest. She knew not many men would be as loving and understanding as he was, she knew Klaus wouldn’t hurt her nor would he ever leave her.

[wlntrsldler]

how to disappear | luke castellan

warnings: betrayal, fluff, mean!luke for like five lines, extremely long, not canon, drug use and language, probably got some things wrong but it's for the plot; i sobbed writing this. (this might be my favorite piece i've ever written)

part 2: shades of cool

pairing: aphrodite!reader x luke

description: based on how to disappear by lana del rey

i. all of the guys tell me lies, but you don't. just crack another beer and pretend that you're still here.

"hey, angel," a voice startled you out of your thoughts. your feet were dangling over the pier as you stared out into the lake. you twisted your head to see luke approaching. a soft smile was on his face. "been looking for you everywhere."

"needed a breather," you said, scooting over so he could join you. "sometimes i forget how overwhelming being back here is."

he rolled his cargo pants up to his knees, letting the cool water touch his bare skin. "i get it. sometimes i wish i could take a break."

"you can, you know," you nudged his shoulder, "you're old enough to leave camp during the year. nobody would fault you for wanting to go away for a while."

he dug into his front pocket, pulling out a messily rolled joint and the pink lighter you gave him last summer. the heart you drew on the plastic with sharpie was starting to fade. he placed the joint between your eager lips and lit the end. he tried to ignore the sparks that shot up his arm when your fingertips brushed against his.

luke shrugged, "i know, but then who would take care of the kids? mr. d isn't really the model citizen."

you quirked an eyebrow, passing him the joint, "and you are?"

"better than mr. d," he let out a chuckle before taking a drag. luke closed his eyes as the smoke escaped his lips. he could taste your lipgloss. "maybe when you get your own place, i'll take some time off and visit you."

"i'm off to college soon," you said. "going to california. i got a scholarship."

"of course you did," he grinned. the weed didn't take effect yet. usually, when you smoked with luke, his brown eyes are hazed over by the effects, but while he was speaking, his eyes twinkled in pride. "didn't doubt it for a second."

"you'd leave camp and visit california for me?"

luke had a knowing smile on his face now, as if you were ridiculous for even asking that question. "'course. only problem would be that i'm broke as shit right now. being camp counselor doesn't really pay the big bucks, y'know."

you hummed. it was weird really, how camp was just a fraction of your life. your dad made sure that you could have a semi-normal life, or at least as normal as a half-blood's life could be, but not all demi-gods had the luxury, luke included. his dad made sure of it.

at first, luke despised you for it. why was it fair that you were your mom's favorite child while his dad barely cared enough to make sure he survived his failed quest? if aphrodite was his godly parent, he was sure that he wouldn't have this ugly scar on his face to remind him that he was nothing but a failure. she would stitch him up and make sure that he was okay.

this is not to say that luke liked any of the gods; he just preferred aphrodite above all of them. she gave you to the world, after all.

"what else is new?" he prodded, passing you the joint again after his third drag. "anything else exciting happen in your life since last summer?"

"nothing much," you coughed slightly. you didn't smoke unless you were at camp with luke. "just the usual senior year things, i guess. graduation, prom, you know."

"no, i don't know, actually," he laughed, "well, i know the idea of it. did you decorate your graduation cap? did your senior year live up to your expectations? did you have a date to prom?"

"yes, yes, and no." you pretended not to notice how luke's shoulders relaxed at your answer. "i did decorate my grad cap. my dad has it framed with my diploma. the design was my college's logo. i didn't have a date to prom because i didn't really like anyone at school. i would rather take a date i actually enjoyed the company of."

"that's fair," luke said. he took another hit from the joint. you watched the smoke evaporate into the air, the smell of weed surely sticking to your clothes. "tell me about your senior year."

"it was fun," you said, longing on your face. "it's weird to think that i'm kind of on my own now. after camp, i'll be shipped off across the country to take classes for some bullshit degree that i probably won't need because i won't make it long enough to see the workforce."

luke chuckled at that. it was morbid, sure, but he would be lying if he said that that reality wouldn't be a possibility. he didn't like to think about it much, the idea of you dying, but the life of a demi-god was unpredictable. he's surprised he even made it to eighteen.

you continued, "but i got to be a kid and i'm thankful for that. i just can't stop thinking about how this is my last summer here. i'm eighteen now. i've aged out."

"you can come back, you know," luke said. these summers with you were the only thing he looked forward to each year ever since you first arrived. "i'm still here."

"that's because if you step a toe out of this camp, they'll find you," you said, although you knew luke knew this already. he was powerful. he would attract monsters left and right and he'd be putting himself in jeopardy if he left. your suggestions for him to visit you were more wishful thinking than anything. in those moments, you let yourself pretend that you and luke were normal, that nobody would be trying to kill you if you tried to watch a movie at a theater or something.

"fair," he offered you the last hit, but you shook your head. you already felt your head spinning. "beth wants to go to college, too."

"does she?"

"yeah," he put out the joint on the wooden pier. neither of you spoke as the flame was extinguished with a sizzling sound. "told her to talk to you. you know more about it than i do."

"i'd love to talk to her. i think she'd do great in college."

"she would," he smiled, sadly. his eyebrows furrowed in thought. his mouth opened and closed a few times, like he was trying to find the right way to frame his words. you sat in silence patiently. he gulped, "i feel like everyone is moving on without me."

luke propped his elbows on his knees. he looked across the lake, watching the sunset turn into a pink horizon. he couldn't look at you while he spoke. "don't get me wrong, i'm so proud of you for leaving this place. and i'll be proud of annabeth when her time comes, but i think i just hate the fact that at the end of it all, i'll be alone. everyone in my life has a life outside of this, but i don't. this is it for me. i don't know what it is about this place, about this life, that keeps me stuck here, but i am."

you weren't stupid enough to correct him. you both knew the gods had a plan for luke. it was something bigger than the both of you, though neither of you truly knew what it was; but it was always this looming dark cloud above him, a second shoe waiting to drop. luke tried to ignore the feeling most days, but sometimes, he couldn't help but feel himself get pulled into the darkness; like in these moments, when reality hits him a little harder. you probably won't be back after this summer.

"well," you placed a hand over his own. he flipped his hand over to hold yours properly. he still wasn't looking at you. "let's just make the most out of this summer, yeah? think about everything else when we get there."

he squeezed your hand, "yeah."

ii. met me down at the training yard, cuts on his face cause he fought too hard.

"castellan."

luke winced, not because of the pain of the open cuts on his face, but because of the tone of your voice. that voice meant that he was in trouble.

he mustered up the courage to smile weakly at you, trying to ignore the droplets of blood that spilled from his open wound. "hey, angel."

"don't angel me," you hissed, marching to him. you grabbed his face gently, inspecting the damage. "what were you thinking?"

"i was thinking the kid was a bitch."

"castellan."

he cringed, "sorry."

"what happened?"

"i haven't been getting much sleep," luke whispered, "nightmares are back."

you sighed, picking up a cotton ball soaked in alcohol. the apollo kid who was tending to luke earlier was smart enough to leave the room when you walked in. you muttered half-hearted apologies as he hissed in pain. "i'm sorry to hear that, but that's not the answer i was looking for."

"he was just talking shit," luke said through gritted teeth. whatever the ares kid was saying must've been really bad because you could feel luke's anger rising again. you rubbed his back slowly until he calmed down. "don't wanna talk about it."

"okay," you resigned, finally wiping away the final remnants of blood off his face. you stared at him; even with an open lip, red bruises, and flecks of blood on his face, luke was still beautiful. he plopped his forehead against your stomach, wrapping his arms around you to pull you closer.

this was common with luke. he acted all big and bad around all the other campers, but in your presence, he turned into this; always looking for comfort, always touching you somehow, like he was finally allowed to breathe. you cradled the back of his neck as he let out shallow breaths, leaving feather-light kisses on his crown when you thought he wouldn't notice them. he always felt them, but he never let you know that he did. he was afraid you'd stop doing it if you found out.

"how bad are they?"

"bad," he sighed, eyes closing. he tugged on you to bring you even closer, though you didn't know how that was possible at this point. "haven't slept in days."

"why didn't you come find me?"

"your sisters don't like it when i interrupt their beauty sleep."

"why didn't you tell me sooner? i could've stayed in the hermes cabin."

"it's gross in there," he laughed. "you deserve to sleep on your soft bed in a cabin that smells like fucking roses, not on my cardboard thin cot in a room that smells like sweaty socks."

you lifted his head up to look at you, "yeah, it's pretty bad in there."

luke snorted, finally letting you go, but a hand stayed connected to your hip. he played with the loose thread on the hem of your shirt. "i still won, by the way."

you cocked your head, "huh?"

"the fight," luke's cocky smirk was back on his face. "you should see the other kid. if i'd been well-rested, he wouldn't have been able to land a blow."

you smacked his shoulder, laughing as you fell onto the bed beside him, "shut up, castellan."

"there it is," he mumbled, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. he was so close to you.

"what?"

"castellan," he mimicked your voice, but there was no mockery there. he said it like he treasured it, like he was trying to memorize the way you spoke. "you're not mad at me anymore."

it was hard to stay mad at luke. the longest you'd gotten mad at him was when he didn't choose you for his quest. he stood outside the aphrodite cabin the entire day before he was set to leave, begging for you to let him explain. you were too stubborn, too hard-headed, to listen to him. when you were sure that he was gone, you finally left the aphrodite cabin to find a letter from him tucked away under the welcome mat.

you kept the letter, but you never opened it. it wasn't until he returned from his quest, on the brink of death, that you opened it. you were sitting beside his bed, eyebags darker than ever that even your mother couldn't salvage you. your eyes were stained red from crying so much.

in his letter, he explained how he didn't want to put you in danger, how he would never forgive himself if something bad happened to you because of him. your insecurities just got the better of you. you always feared that people saw you as shallow, like you didn't actually have the skills to fend for yourself. many people had misconceptions about the aphrodite kids, but not luke. luke knew that you were incredible. you just didn't resort to violence as quickly as he did.

you felt stupid then, even now, you regret how you treated him before his quest. you hated yourself for how you acted. he never gave you a reason to doubt him, to not trust him; you should've known that he had his reasons. you hated yourself for even questioning him for a second.

luke pulled you into his chest, allowing you to cuddle into his neck. the beads of his camp necklace rested beside your temple. you reached over to play with them, letting the beads thump against his collarbone when you let go. you felt luke twirling strands of your hair around his finger, gently undoing the knots that formed at the ends of your hair because of his antics. you lay there in silence, just enjoying the presence of one another. you felt luke's breathing even out, a sign that he was drifting off.

luke's words from the pier bounced in your head then. did he think that you'd forget about him after you left camp? as if you'd forget about this, about him. a life without luke castellan became unimaginable when you met him when you were fifteen. there was no version of your life that didn't have luke in it.

it was foolish to think that way, you knew that. it was stupid to let someone have a hold on you like this, demi-god or not. even your friends from home warned you about being so attached to luke, though in the version of events you told them, the stakes were much lower. to them, he was just a boy you see at summer camp a few months out of the year; he was just another hometown boy that they urged you to forget when you moved away to college so you could live your life unrestricted.

but luke wasn't just that to you and you knew you weren't just that to him either. there was something between the two of you that was hard to explain, but didn't need an explanation at the same time. even your mom noticed it. she let you know once to tell luke to stop praying to her to give you a sign whenever he missed you.

"i can't keep making flowers bloom whenever he misses you," she wrote, "it wouldn't make much sense for flowers to bloom in the winter, my child, or for flowers to bloom every second of the day."

sometimes, though, on particularly hard days when you'd miss luke, your mom made exceptions. you'd find bunches of hibiscus growing within the cracks of the sidewalk of new york city on your way home from school.

you knew luke was thinking about you then. just the thought of it made your day better.

iii. i know he's in over his head, but i love that man, like nobody can. he moves mountains and pounds them to ground again.

luke didn't know what you'd say if you found out. well, he did know, but he deluded himself into thinking that you'd listen to his reasons, that you'd actually understand why he did what he had to do. maybe you'd even join him.

percy had left camp with annabeth and grover for his quest yesterday. the air at camp felt different since percy was revealed to be a forbidden child. luke, as much as he tried to keep his resentment for the gods at bay because percy was hard to dislike, the poor kid just wanted to save his mom, felt his blood boil when poseidon claimed percy.

he hated the gods, this wasn't new, but luke struggled to understand how he was supposed to feel. he saw so much of himself in percy. he thought of his mother; her hugs that he hadn't felt since he was nine, the taste of her burnt cookies that he hated at the time, but now he just wished he could taste the burnt crisps on his tongue one last time. he even missed her frantic mumbling in the middle of the night.

luke saw a version of himself in percy, the version that had a chance at happiness. luke hated it.

it was too late, anyway. the plan was already in motion. his allegiance to kronos was set. kronos visited him in his dreams often. luke stopped calling them nightmares because nightmares are only nightmares if they happen once in a while. what made them bad dreams was when they were compared to good ones. he didn't have those anymore.

luke hadn't slept much since he stole the bolt. it was easier to think about you, about the happy times, when he was awake. he smoked more now. it helped sometimes. he would pretend your lipgloss was still on the tip of the joint and that you were beside him on the pier, trying to get away from all the noise of camp.

as he walked toward the hermes cabin, smiling cordially at the younger campers who beamed at him, he saw the corner of a pink bag against his bed. his face dropped. luke stopped in his tracks, clutching the beads of his necklace.

you weren't facing the door. your back was turned while you folded the sheets on his bed. he saw you spray perfume on his blankets. he could almost smell the sweet fragrance from where he stood. it took all his might not to run to you and hold you in his arms. it's been months since he last saw you, since last summer. luke's hands fell to his sides before he twisted his body to turn the other way.

he went to the one place that gave him comfort. with his cargo pants rolled up to his knees, he watched the sun fade into the dark sky. there was no pretty sunset tonight. luke didn't think too much of omens, but he figured that was a bad sign. and when your soft footsteps thumped against the boards of the pier, he was certain that it was.

"you damn near running away from me when you saw me was not the reaction i was hoping for."

luke closed his eyes and took a deep breath. out of habit, he moved a bit to let you take your usual spot beside him. when he opened his eyes, he was met with the face he'd thought about for months. a kind smile adorned your lips. you looked different. your skin was a deeper shade, no doubt due to the california sun; your lips were pink and torn apart, like you'd been chewing on them; but your smile was the same.

"what are you doing here?"

"sorry i was late," you said, sheepishly. you played with the small braid in your hair, "i had to move out of my dorm so i had to take a later flight."

"i thought you weren't coming back," luke replied.

"heard there's a war coming," your voice sounded small. luke knew why. he'd listened to you talk about the dreams you had for yourself for hours over the past summers. the idea of an impending war meant that those dreams would take the backseat and you'd have to fight before any of them could come true. "is it true?"

"percy, a forbidden kid, poseidon's, is trying to make sure it doesn't happen."

"do you trust him?"

luke felt his heart crumble in his chest. how cruel is he to keep you in the dark like this? when the only thing you needed to feel okay was to hear that he trusted the kid meant to stop the war?

luke's voice was hoarse, "yeah, i do. beth does too."

"okay," you placed a hand on his thigh. luke stiffened at your touch. you pulled away, embarrassed. "sorry."

"don't apologize," he placed his hand next to yours. he could feel the warmth of your skin. "i've just been on edge."

"it's just me, luke."

he didn't know how to tell you that that's exactly why he was on edge. it was you. the girl he'd been in love with since he was fifteen. the girl he told everything to. the girl who knew him so well that if you were to touch him for longer than a second, you'd know everything.

this summer, for the first time since he met you, he was glad you didn't show up to camp. he knew that the minute you were in front of him, he'd tell you everything and there was a chance you'd want nothing to do with him after it. that was something luke couldn't handle. but now you're here, looking at him like this like his actions just hurt you.

"'m sorry, angel."

"you're acting different, luke."

"'m sorry."

"i don't need an apology," you said. "i want to know why."

luke rubbed his face with his hands, "i don't know, okay?"

"you're lying to me," you were frowning now. luke was angry. he wasn't angry at you, he was angry at the whole situation, but it didn't matter. he was taking it out on you.

"gods, angel, can you just-- not right now," he groaned. you got a good look at him. his eyes were tired, shoulders slumped like he'd been carrying a weight on his shoulders with no reprieve. "i don't really feel like talking."

"you don't have to be mean about it."

he didn't feel like himself anymore. he would never talk to you like this, but there was something in him that made him snap. luke scoffed, "i'm not being mean, you're just being so pushy right now."

you blinked, pulling your hand away from his. shivers ran down your spine, "luke, what the fuck?"

"what?" he stood up. you followed suit. under the moonlight, you saw how dull his brown eyes were. they no longer carried the same glow when he looked at you. luke's eyebrows were furrowed, eyes narrowed, "i just can't handle this right now, okay? can you just drop it?"

"i'm just trying to talk to you!" you raised your voice, disbelief on your features. you walked towards him. holding his face in your hands. he was crying. you wiped away his tears. "i just missed you, okay? i just wanna talk to you because i haven't gotten to in months and i'm miserable."

he let out a shaky breath, your touch grounding him. he felt himself coming back to him. he nuzzled his cheek in your palm, kissing the flesh there as he mumbled apologies into the night.

"i missed you so much," a sob escaped your lips. luke didn't hesitate to wrap his arms around you, continuing his train of apologies into your ear. you continued, "i-i thought that you'd be happy to see me because i've been counting down the days until i saw you again and i just thought that even though the world was falling apart, we'd be the same. it's always been us, you know?"

"i know."

"and then you avoid me and run away from me and i just needed to see you, luke. i needed to talk to you."

"i missed you, too," he confessed. "so much, you have no idea."

"you have a funny way of showing it," you joked through your tears.

luke laughed. it shocked him. it was like he had forgotten how to. he hiccuped, removing one hand from around you to rub the tears away from his eyes, "come on."

selfishly, he ignored the pit in his stomach. he allowed himself just one more day to have you like this. as he lay on his bed, he held you close to him. he was overwhelmed with how much you filled his senses; the smell of your perfume, the feeling of your lips ghosting on his chest as you told him nonsense stories from college, the sound of your quiet giggles when he made some stupid joke, the look on your face in the dark, staring at him.

an unfamiliar feeling took over his body, rest, he realized it was, a while into lying in the darkness with you.

"i love you, you know that, right?"

luke didn't trust his voice anymore. he pulled you closer, hoping that that was enough for now.

iv. think about those years as i whisper in your ear. i'm always going to be right here.

"i love you."

you turned your head at the sound of luke's voice. camp was in disarray. percy was badly hurt and annabeth was frantic, sobbing about how luke was behind it all. you ran away after hearing it.

you didn't want to believe it, but it was annabeth. she wouldn't say that about luke unless it was true. you knew it killed her just the same to accept it.

"what are you doing here, castellan?"

it felt like a dagger was plunged into luke's heart. he'd heard his name leave your lips in different ways over the years; jokingly, angrily, but never like this. disappointment.

"i couldn't leave without telling you," luke licked his lips, keeping his distance. he was pressing his shirt on the spot percy broke skin. he looked down at his feet, "couldn't leave without letting you know that i love you."

"why did you do it?"

"i don't know."

"okay," you walked towards him. "when did you get so comfortable with lying to me?"

"angel," he sounded broken. "please, don't do this."

"you were wrong, by the way," you said. "you're not stuck here anymore, but i don't think the place you'll end up in is any better than this."

luke was silent.

"go, luke," you whispered. "don't make it any worse than it already is."

he nodded. this was it. you watched as he disappeared into the dark.

you were too preoccupied with your thoughts to notice it then; your mind was plagued with worry, but in the gaps of the wooden pier, a single hibiscus flower bloomed under your feet.

[brokebonewritings]

The Courage to Try

Peter Parker x reader

Tags/Warnings: Fluff, High School Crush, Friends to Lovers

Summary: After years of swooning over Peter, you finally have the courage to ask him on a date. You would have never thought that going on a date with your best friend would turn out so well.

Word Count: 3k

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Lunch period at Midtown High was always chaotic. The hallways are filled with smelly, hangry teenagers who don’t know how to say “excuse me”. It never bothered you though, not really anyways. You had your friends to keep you company, even in class. MJ always made Honors Calculus more enjoyable, and Ned kept you occupied in Spanish. Peter on the other hand, it was hard to focus whenever you were in class with him.

It started out with small things. Little touches while handing you vials in Chemistry, or the smiles he would give you in Honors Calc. Lunch period was where you started to zone out the most. Even though there were no teachers to notice, your friends definitely could tell.

Peter always seemed to find a way to sit beside you during lunch, casually striking up conversations about anything and everything. Not that you complained about it. MJ would exchange knowing glances with Ned, who would tease you endlessly about your obvious crush on Peter.

“Hey!” You turn as you hear your name being called. It was MJ, trying to catch up with you from her last class. “How was Film Lit?”

“Hey, Ah, y’know, Mr. Micucci never really shows anything interesting so…” You trail off after seeing Peter and Ned up ahead. 

“You’re such a film snob,” MJ teased, nudging you playfully but you weren’t listening. “Uhm hello? Anyone in there?”

You’re brought back to reality as your friend waves her hand in front of your face. “Huh, sorry?”

“Dude, you totally were staring at Peter.” She said as you both stopped in the middle of the hallway.

You can feel the blush rising to your cheeks at her words, but you play it off with a laugh. "What? No way, I was just...” MJ raises an eyebrow at you, clearly not buying it. “Besides, Peter is just a friend.”

"Sure, just a friend who you can't take your eyes off of," she teases, bumping your shoulder as you start walking again. You roll your eyes, but there's a small part of you that can't deny the truth in her words.

As you approach Peter and Ned, you see them deep in conversation. Ned is animatedly telling a story while Peter listens, a small smile playing on his lips. You can't help but smile at the sight, feeling lucky to have such good friends by your side.

“Hey nerds,” MJ greets, “What is it this time? Star Wars or?”

Peter looks up with a grin as you and MJ approach, his eyes lighting up as he sees you. "Hey guys! Actually, we were just talking about the new Captain America musical on broadway!”

"Really? That sounds... interesting," you reply, trying to hide your amusement at the thought of a musical about Captain America. Ned launches into an excited explanation about the show.

As you all make your way to the cafeteria, Peter falls into step beside you, his shoulder lightly brushing yours. You feel a jolt of electricity at the contact, making it difficult to focus on the conversation.

Once you reach an empty table, you all sit down and start unpacking your lunches. MJ pulls out a sandwich while Ned eagerly unwraps a burrito. Peter, as usual, has brought a homemade lunch complete with a note from Aunt May.

"So, are you guys coming over tonight to work on the history project?" Ned asks between bites of his burrito.

"I wish I could, but I have to cover a shift at the bookstore," MJ replies apologetically.

You glance over at Peter, waiting for his reply. "Yeah, I'll be there. Maybe we can order some pizza while we work?" Peter suggests with a smile.

“I’ll be there!” You smile at both Ned and Peter. “Only if we can listen to my playlist.” 

Peter's eyes light up "Deal! As long as we get to listen to my playlist after," he teases, nudging you playfully. You roll your eyes but can't help the smile that tugs at your lips.

Ned groans, “Oh no, not your playlist again. We don’t need a repeat of the incident from last time.”

The rest of lunch is spent in easy conversation and laughter, the usual banter flowing effortlessly between the four of you. Despite the chaotic surroundings, there's a sense of calm whenever you're with your friends, especially when Peter is beside you.

As the bell signaling the end of lunch period rings, you all gather up your belongings and start making your way to your next classes. Peter falls into step beside you once again, and this time, he reaches out to lightly bump his shoulder against yours.

"See you after school for the project?" Peter asks, a hopeful glint in his eyes. You nod, feeling a flush of excitement at the thought of spending more time with him outside of school.

“I’ll meet you on the steps.” You grin as he walks away.

Your last class seemed to drone on for hours. None of your friends were in it so you seemed exhausted by the end of it. You can't help but replay the small moments with Peter over and over in your head, his laughter, his smile, the way he always seemed to find a reason to be near you.

Not realizing the bell had rung, you looked around to see your classmates were all packed up and leaving. You hurriedly packed your bag, eager to meet Peter outside to walk to Ned’s house together.

Once you get outside, you notice him standing at the bottom of the steps looking for you. You notice him turn to see you as you walk by down the stairs. Peter flashed you a bright smile as you approached, and your heart skipped a beat at the sight.

"Hey, you ready to go?" Peter asked as you joined him at the bottom of the steps. You nodded, feeling a rush of excitement. The two of you started walking towards Ned's house, the familiar route feeling different somehow with Peter by your side.

As you chatted about random things like the latest Spider-Man sightings in the city and your upcoming history project, you couldn't shake off the nervous energy bubbling inside you. There was something about Peter's presence that made you feel at ease.

“Pete?” You start, “You know you’re one of my best friends right?”

He smiles, “Of course!”

“Good," you continued, feeling a rush of courage. "Because lately, I've been thinking...” 

You both stop walking as your sentence trails off. Staring at the ground you can’t bring yourself to say the next set of words.

“Hey.” You hear Peter say softly. Looking up you see his round eyes staring back at you with a soft smile spreading across his lips. “I know you can say whatever it is you’re trying to tell me.”

Taking a deep breath you finally continue, “Peter Parker, I would really like to take you on a date.”

Peter's smile widens at your words, his eyes lighting up with surprise and joy. "I would love that," he says, his voice filled with warmth. The nervous energy inside you dissipates, replaced by a sense of relief and happiness at his response.

The two of you continue walking towards Ned's house, the weight of unspoken words now lifted from your shoulders. You can't help but steal glances at Peter, a smile tugging at your lips as you think about the possibility of going on a date with him.

When you reach Ned's house, he greets you both enthusiastically at the door and leads you to his room where you'll be working on the history project. As you settle in with your laptops and textbooks, Peter shifts closer to you, his shoulder brushing yours in a silent gesture of comfort and support.

You feel a rush of warmth at the simple touch, grateful for Peter's presence beside you. The three of you dive into the project, discussing ideas and sharing laughs as the afternoon turns into evening. Peter's eyes meet yours from across the table, a silent understanding passing between you.

Ned excused himself to use the restroom halfway through the study session, leaving you and Peter alone in his room. The silence wasn’t awkward, but it wasn’t comforting either.

Peter cleared his throat, breaking the quiet. "So... about that date," he started, a hint of nervousness in his voice.

You turned to face him, a smile playing on your lips. "Yes, about that date," you echoed.

He smiled back, “I was thinking about taking you to a museum or maybe Central Park?”

“Central Park is perfect!” 

“I also wanted to take you to this cafe near the park too.”

“I would really love that, Peter.” 

As Ned returns to the room, you both continue on with your work. When it was finally time for you both to go home, you hugged and said your goodbye to Ned, and thanked his Lola for the food. Peter said his goodbyes, and you both started walking towards the train.

The train ride was filled with a comfortable silence, the occasional glances and smiles shared between you and Peter speaking volumes. As the train pulled into your stop, you both stepped out onto the bustling platform and started walking towards your respective homes.

"Tonight was great," Peter said, breaking the silence. "I can't wait for our date at Central Park."

You smiled back at him,"Me too. Thanks for saying yes."

"Of course I said yes. I've been wanting to ask you out for a while now."

“What?” you say surprised.

“Yeah,” he says rubbing the back of his neck “I just was really nervous you would say no.”

Your heart skipped a beat at his confession, realizing that your feelings were reciprocated all this time. The walk to your apartment felt shorter than usual, because in no time you reached your building.

“Well, it looks like this is me.” You say, stalling. “So, tomorrow? For our Date? Since it is Saturday and all.”

"Absolutely," Peter replies with a warm smile. "I'll meet you at Central Park tomorrow afternoon."

You nod, and run up the stairs to your apartment. Your older brother takes note first on how giddy you are as you run inside. Then your mom notices.

“There’s no way you’re this excited about a project.” he says unamused. “Wait. Did he?”

You drop your bag and smile at your brother. “Mhm!” 

“Did who what?” Your mom asks from the kitchen table.

“Peter totally asked her out finally!”

Your mom stands up, taking her glasses off excitedly. “He did!”

You giggle at the excitement your family was portraying. “Well actually, I asked him. But, he did most of the planning!”

The three of you chat for a while before you decide to go to bed.

The night felt like forever as you tossed and turned in bed, your thoughts consumed by your date with Peter. Every nerve in your body seemed to be tingling with excitement and a touch of nervousness, but deep down, you felt a sense of contentment knowing that you would be spending the day with him.

Waking up the next day, you went through your usual routine with a little more excitement. Your brother helped you with your outfit, since he was going to the most prestigious fashion college in New York City.

As you got ready for your date, your mind raced with possibilities. Would he let you hold his hand? What would you talk about? Would Peter still make your heart skip a beat like he always did?

With one last look in the mirror, and approval from both your mom and brother you grab your small backpack and head out the door to meet Peter.

The sun was shining brightly as you walked towards Central Park. You spot Peter waiting for you near the entrance, a bright smile on his face. As you approach him, he greets you and hugs you tightly.

"Hey," Peter says, his eyes filled with warmth. "You look amazing."

You feel a blush creep up your cheeks at his compliment. "Thanks. You don't look too bad yourself."

Peter chuckles, a grin playing on his lips. "Shall we?" he asks, gesturing towards the park.

You nod, and the two of you enter Central Park, the bustling city noises fading into the background as you walk along the winding pathways. The air is filled with laughter and chatter of families enjoying the weekend, adding to the vibrant atmosphere.

As you walked further into the park, a sense of serenity washed over you. The sun peeked through the trees, casting a warm glow over everything around you. Peter led you to a quiet spot by a tranquil pond, where a gentle breeze rustled the leaves above you. You sat down on a bench together, the sound of chirping birds providing a soothing soundtrack to your date.

Peter turned to you, his gaze soft yet full of excitement. "I'm really glad we're here together," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Me too," you replied, reaching out to take his hand in yours.

His fingers intertwined with yours, fitting perfectly as if they were always meant to be together.

“How long have you liked me, y’know, more than friends?” he asks curiously.

“A while,” you giggle, “probably when you were mixing random chemicals together in Chem class.”

He groans at this admission. “You don’t mean when I made that drawer explode right?”

“Yep exactly then, I think.” You look down at your hands interlaced together. “What about you?”

He smiles and looks up at the sky for a moment. “Probably when you went on that rant about how Capybaras would make better pets than Dogs.”

You both burst into laughter. Your laughter echoed through the park, blending with the rustling leaves and chirping birds around you. As your laughter subsided, a comfortable silence settled between you, filled with unspoken words and shared emotions.

Peter turned to you, his eyes meeting yours. “I really am glad you got the courage to ask me out.”

“I’m just really glad you didn’t turn me down.” You sigh.

Peter's warm smile never wavered as he reached out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "I could never turn you down," he said softly, his gaze unwavering. "I've always known there was something special between us, even before we realized it ourselves."

"I've never felt this way about anyone before," you confessed, your heart pounding in your chest.

"Me neither," he admitted, “Is it okay if I kiss you now?”

Without another word, you leaned in towards Peter, closing the gap between you. His lips met yours in a gentle, tender kiss, sending a jolt of electricity through your entire being.

As you pull away, you can hear Peter sigh softly before opening his eyes. You both smile brightly at each other, while exchanging awkward giggles.

"Wow," he whispered, his breath mingling with yours.

"Wow indeed," you replied softly.

The rest of the afternoon was spent walking hand in hand through Central Park, sharing stories, dreams, and stolen kisses.

The sun began to dip below the horizon, casting a warm orange glow over the park. Peter decides that heading to the cafe before It closes was the best thing to do. The two of you found a cozy table by the window, the soft golden light illuminating your faces as you talked and laughed over cups of coffee.

“How did you even find this place?” You ask.

After taking a long sip of his coffee, he sets down his mug, “I was in the neighborhood and saw it one day. I just wanted to try it.” 

“How do you think Ned and MJ will react?”

“I think they’ll be relieved they won’t have to deal with us hiding our crushes.” He laughs, followed by your own.

“They’re really good at keeping secrets,” you begin.”Which is kind of scary.”

As the evening wore on, Peter walked you back to your apartment, hand in hand under the starlit sky. The familiar streets seemed transformed by the magic of the night, each moment etching itself into your memory as if trying to make it last forever.

“I had an amazing time today.” Peter says as you guys reach your building.

“Me too, Peter.” You smile. “Thank you for the coffee.”

Peter took a step closer, his hand reaching up to gently cup your cheek. “I wish the night went on longer.”

“This doesn’t have to be our only date if you don’t want it to be.”

His eyes sparkled with hope and affection. "I definitely want more than just one date with you," he said softly, his thumb brushing against your cheek. 

With a smile tugging at the corners of your lips, you leaned closer to him, closing the gap between you once again in a sweet and lingering kiss.

Pulling away, you look up to see your mom and brother watching from the fire escape. “I should probably get inside.” you announce.

“Wait!” he starts, “Uh, I was just wondering if you wanted to make it official?”

“Official?” you echo

“Yeah, like will you officially go out with me?”

You smile wide and nod to his question. “Yes, Peter, Of course!”

He returns the smile and wraps you in a warm hug. “I’m so glad.”

Pulling away from him once again, “Goodnight, Peter!” you say before climbing the steps to your building.

“Good night!”

As Peter begins to walk home, you can’t help but look back at him and watch as he looks back at you. He waves once more before disappearing around the corner, leaving you standing on the steps with a contented smile on your face.

You really were glad you got the courage to finally ask him on a real date. Maybe you would have the courage to ask him if he was actually Spider-Man in the future, or decide if MJ made that up.

taglist: @guacam011y @alexxavicry @emma23 @moncherriis

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[jyoongim]

Hi, I would like to ask Adam x female reader, him having sex with the reader, his best exterminator

🙏🏽Note: I am not an Adam fan so i dont know how if this is good.

I HATE THIS SO BAD. YALL I CANT I CANT DO IT *sobbing into pillow* you’ll never get another Adam fic from me

Title: His Best

———————————————————————————————-

You smiled as another extermination went successful. No mishaps and everyone was in one piece. The ladies were calling for a celebration and you nodded, there was no need to soil their fun with plans for next year.

A hand was on your shoulder, pulling you from your chatter, Lute. She nodded her head off to the distance, grinning “Report due”

You nodded and flew to where Adam was to give the annual report.

You were THE top exorcist in Adam’s little angelic harem.

You thought Lute was a bad bitch? Ha! She had nothing on you.

Your skills and strategy on demon extermination was always praise worthy, making you rise in rank rather quickly.

The number of kills you racked in every year? 

Legend.

You tried to clean yourself up slightly, wanting to portray some sort of elegance, but knocked at his office door regardless.

”Lute said you wanted the report sir?” You asked as you approached your commander.

Adam smiled at you, leaning his head on his hand ”yea lay it on me Danger Tits”

You stood like a soldier as you gave the report. You reported the number of hellspawns killed, who made the most kills and who needed to improve their combat training. 

You must have been rambling too much because you didn’t even notice you had started to pace and Adam had wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you into him

“Whoa whoa babes! Hey! Relaaaax. Chill out for a bit” he laughed as you frowned, but relaxed against him.

”you know I LOVE when you talk violence babe but for now…”he started to press kisses to your neck

”I thought i should honor my baddest bitch” you hummed as he removed your mask, smiling when he finally saw your beautiful face.

You pulled away to remove your bloody uniform and burst into giggles as Adam pounced on you, picking you up and sitting you on the desk.

Adam wasted no time in slamming his lips on yours as his hands roamed your body.

You moaned into his mouth as one of his hands tweaked your nipples, pinching and tugging at the sensitive nubs.

The other slipped between your legs, softly brushing against your slit.

You tugged at his heavenly robes as he toyed with you.

”ha! But i promised to celebrate with the girls”you faked concern as his lips trailed down your chest to suck a tit into his mouth sighing as his tongue swirled around a nipple.

He let out a low growl, dipping a finger into your warm heat. ”Oh fuck ‘em. They’ll be fine. Lute can handle them”

Your back arched as another finger sunk into you, pulling a shaky moan from your lips.

Your hips grinded against his hand, riding his fingers as you threw your head back “f-fuck!” You cried, the sensation from both his mouth and fingers had your body tingling. 

“Sera is gonna want my re-report so we have to make this quick” you keened as he kneeled down, trailing kisses from your chest to your slippery folds.

Adam ignored your comment, instead he focused on your puffy clit. He flicked his tongue against the bud, eyes watching as your mouth fell open in a soft gasp. You leaned back slightly, spreading your thighs for him as you jutted your hips against his mouth.

He watched your face contort with pleasure as he trailed his tongue from your clit to slit and back. Wrapping his lips around the bundle of nerves and softly sucking, using his tongue to coax more slick from you.

“Quick? Oh babe you deserve way more than a quickie buuut if you insist” he mumbled against your pussy.

He gave your cunt one last lick before standing and turning you over, your feet planted as you leaned over the desk. You wiggled your ass at him teasingly, giggling as he smacked your ass and rubbed the tip of his dick against you.

You swear your eyes sported heart eyes when he sunk his dick into you. “Ooh fuck! Yes!” You cried as he set a rough pace, dick hitting those spots that only he could reach.

Soft grunts and whines filled the room as Adam’s hips slammed against yours fap fap fap bounced on the walls as you trembled beneath the angel.

”Tch I never get tired of this pussy. Best pussy I’ve ever fucked” he huffed. You smirked, looking over your shoulder as you pushed your hips back to meet his thrusts  “better than your wives?”

His cock twitched and he growled, burying his hand in your hair, mushing your cheek into the glass. He angled his hips to dig into your gummy walls making you whine

”much better”

You clawed at the glass as he pounded into your pussy, your legs trembling as they tried to support his brute strength. Your thighs were sticky from your slick and you bristled as you felt the pricks of an orgasm approach.

Adam chuckled as your cunt fluttered, clenching as you grinded your hips against him. “Hehe you gonna cum? Already? I thought i trained you better than that baby” you could hear the grin that he wore on his face.

You didn’t get a chance to make a snarky remark, when he starting rubbing at your clit as he slowed his thrusts so you feel him wreck your walls.

You let out a whimper “p-please let me cum sir”, your wings unfurled from your back, curling around him. Adam used your wings as leverage to bounced you along his dick, making your tongue lull and eyes roll.

”I guess you deserve it after today. Go on baby. Cum all over my dick”

Your body tensed and a high-pitch cry left your lips as you slammed your hips against his, milking him of his own orgasm, grinding into him as your orgasm ripped through you.

You slumped against the desk, wings flapping to keep you up. Adam sighed happily as he pulled his dick out of you and watched as his cum dripped down your leg.

You hissed as he slapped your ass “asshole”

Adam chuckled, kissing your shoulder “I can fuck that too babe”

[venusswhite]

A Thousand Years | Arcane Vi x Fem Leitora (Part. 4)

After losing everything, [Name] tries to rebuild her life. But what happens when a ghost with pink hair returns?

notes: English is not my first language, and I initially wrote this fanfic in Portuguese. With the help of online resources, I rewrote it in English.

Part. 3

“I love you the first time, I love you the last time […] I love you forever, I love you forever.” - Lana Del Rey

“Vi?” Jinx says when the mist clears, and she realizes that, like everyone else, her sister has disappeared.

“Jinx…” I approach the younger girl.

“No,” she screams, pulling at her own hair. “She wouldn’t do that.”

“Hey… it’s okay. Look at me!” I turn her face toward mine.

“Traitor!” she yells, pushing me. “You’re going to leave me… just like she did!”

“No, Jinx. I would never do that.”

“Yes, you would. I know you’ve always loved her, and now that she’s back, you’ll go crawling after her.”

“I love both of you,” I say calmly. “You’re everything to me…”

She grabs her hair again, shaking her head in denial. Then she stops and looks at me:

“[Name],”   she speaks softly, her eyes filling with tears. “Promise me… promise me you’ll never leave me.”

“I promise. Of course I promise,”   I approach her and hug her. “I’ll fix everything, Jinx. I promise everything will be okay!”

Jinx trembles in my arms, murmuring and battling the voices in her head.

“They won’t stop,”   she whispers, her voice breaking.

“Don’t believe what they say. They’re only telling lies,”   I feel her tighten the hug.

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I didn’t tell you Vi was alive.”

“You should’ve told me, but I understand why you didn’t. It’s okay now.”

“I just wanted to protect us,”   she pulls away slightly but still clings to my arms.

“I know…”   I brush her bangs away from her tear streaked face. “Let’s go home, okay?”

She nods, and we start walking toward the stairs to leave the building when I notice blood staining her pants.

“You’re bleeding.”

She scoffs.

“It was one of those dumb Firelights.”

“Let’s get you patched up,”   I put one of her arms around my shoulders to help her walk.

We enter Jinx’s room—or rather, the place she calls her room. I sit her down in front of the broken mirror and grab a box from the small table.

“Shut up, damn it!”   she yells.

I pull her pants up, revealing a small cut.

“I’ll clean it and put a bandage on, okay?”

She looks at me and nods, turning her gaze back to the mirror.

“She doesn’t care more about the enforcer than she does about us…”   she says, squirming.

I clean her wound with cotton and saline.

The enforcer… What was Vi doing with her?

I grab a cloth and wrap it around Jinx’s leg, securing it with tape.

“She came here for us,”   she shouts, pulling at her hair.

“Jinx,”   I hold her hands, making her loosen her grip. “I’m sure Vi has an explanation for being with that enforcer.”

“She better have,”   she says, irritated.

“Rest for a bit,”   I put the items back in the box and return it to its place.

“You’re going to go after her, aren’t you?”   she asks, annoyed.

“I have to go. I finally have a chance to have you both back.”

“I don’t like this idea,”   she gets up.

“I know, but I need to figure this out.”

“You’ll come back, won’t you?”   she looks at me with insecurity.

“Of course I will,”   I turn to face her, feeling my heart ache. In these moments, I could only see Powder. I sigh. “Do you want the medicine?”

Most nights, Jinx had trouble sleeping. So, Silco and I created a sleeping aid for her, but she only took it when she had gone many days without rest and really needed it.

“No. I want to be sure you’ll come back,”   she replies hesitantly.

“Alright. I promise I won’t take long,”   I place my hands on her thin shoulders. “Make sure to rest, okay?”

I arrive at the Firelights’ hideout and find Vi and Ekko standing in front of the mural.

“Powder is still in there. I know my sister,”   I hear her say as I approach.

“You don’t know her anymore,”   I say, startling them. “Jinx is still Powder, just like Powder was always Jinx. She was just hidden.”

They stare at me, surprised.

“It’s been hard years for everyone. It’s easy to judge her when you didn’t see Jinx emerging.”

“Powder would never do what Jinx does,”   Ekko retorts.

“Of course, she wouldn’t. She was a child who had people who loved and protected her.”

“I went through similar things and didn’t become a monster like her… like you.”

“Ekko,”   Vi whispers.

I feel tears stinging my eyes.

“That’s not fair. I did all of this not just for Powder but for you too.”

“Working for Silco didn’t help anyone,”   he says angrily.

Ekko never liked me working for Silco, and it was the subject of most of our arguments.

“It seems you forgot that much of this place”   I gesture around   “was only possible because of resources I stole from Silco. I do everything I can to keep him from finding this place.”

“So now you’re throwing that in my face?”

“No, Ekko. But I had no choice. There were two kids depending on me, damn it!”   I shout. “I needed some way to make money, to find a home for you, to protect you…”

“We could’ve managed without him,”   he says, starting to calm down, realizing what he had said.

“How? By me prostituting myself while you and Powder searched for food in the trash?”   they both look at me, shocked.

“No, [Name], I didn’t mean…”

“We’ve had this argument so many times. I’m not proud of what I do, but it was necessary to take care of you two, so I regret nothing.”

He swallows hard and steps closer.

“I’m sorry… I was a jerk again.”

“You know it’s hard to leave Silco now. Especially now that Vi’s back…”

“He’ll go after her,”   he concludes.

“Of course, he will. He knows what this means for everyone.”

“Then we need to prepare… join the Firelights. Fight with us! Let’s take Silco down…”

“It’s still too early; we need information from Silco, and Jinx wouldn’t agree to betray him. Let’s take it slow…”

“You’re right. You always are,”   he sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I’m sorry again. I spoke without thinking. You’ve been a crucial part of all this, and I’m eternally grateful to you.”

“It’s okay, little man. Sorry if it seemed like I was throwing it in your face. I don’t regret helping build all this,”   I hug him. “You’re my greatest pride, you know that?”

“Thank you,”   he whispers, returning the hug. After a moment, he looks at Vi, who watches us with wide eyes.

“Looks like you two have a lot to talk about,”   he steps back.

“Seems like it,”   Vi says.

“I’ll check on the enforcer,”   he leaves, leaving us alone.

“Let’s go somewhere more private…”

Entering the room, I lock the door and turn to the taller woman.

My heart was racing.

I dreamed of this every single day.

I just want to hug her.

So I did. I threw myself into her arms and felt hers wrap tightly around me.

I hadn’t felt this good in years. It was as if a weight had been lifted off my shoulders.

Emotions exploded within me: happiness, confusion, hope, fear…

“I thought you were dead,” I feel the tears I’ve held back for years finally escaping.

“I’m sorry for everything you’ve been through,” she squeezes me in her arms.

“It was so hard, Vi. I was so scared,” she nodded, and I felt her hand finding my hair, pulling me closer. I follow her lead and bury my face in her chest, listening to her heartbeat. “I should’ve been taken in your place. Then things wouldn’t be so messed up.”

“Don’t say that. You did what you thought was best. The important thing is that you’re all okay, and I’m here now. We’ll fix all of this, together.”

“It won’t be easy,” I sniff, taking in her scent. Still the same one I remembered.

“I know it won’t, but I’ll do anything for you three. I’ll do whatever it takes to bring back a bit of what we had before.”

“Thank you for coming back.”

“If I could’ve, I would’ve come back much sooner.”

We stay there for a while, just catching up and enjoying some time together. Until I gather the courage to ask:

“And the enforcer?”

“She’s the one who got me out of prison,” she steps back, looking at me. “She’s different from the others.”

“I doubt it.”

“Give her a chance. She could be a big help.”

“An enforcer, helping?”

“A deal with Piltover will be crucial, [Name]. She’s our way to that deal.”

Vi was right. A new deal would be extremely important for us, once we manage to take Silco down.

“You’re right, but first we need to take Silco down.”

She nods.

“So, are you working for him?”

“Yeah… I know it sounds crazy, but he took good care of both of us, Vi. Jinx got attached to him.”

“Well, I can’t blame her,” she says, lowering her head.

“We also need to be patient with her. Since the accident, she’s been having… depressive episodes. The trauma was too much.”

The tears she seemed to be holding back fall.

“Thank you for taking care of her.”

“I never would’ve done it any differently. You two are all I have, and I’d die for you.”

“Don’t even think about that,” she presses our foreheads together, her beautiful blue eyes staring into mine. “You look beautiful.”

“Don’t lie,” I smile.

“I’m not,” she smiles back.

“Vi or 6?” I ask, looking at her tattoo.

“Vi.”

“It suits you,” her eyes shine. “You’ve changed a lot.”

“I hope for the better,” she jokes, and I nod.

“Seems like prison food wasn’t so bad,” I step back, eyeing her muscular figure, visible even under the jacket. I run my hand over her toned arm.

“I needed this to come back and take care of you,” she laughs egotistically.

I shake my head, laughing with her.

“Did you think about us while you were in prison?” I ask.

“Us?”

Damn it.

I feel my face heating up.

“Hey,” she lifts my face gently, forcing me to look at her. “I thought about all of you, but mostly about us.”

“I did too. I spent years thinking I’d never see you again. Thinking you were dead.”

She presses our foreheads together again.

“I’m here now. And I’m not going anywhere without you.”

“I missed you so much,” I say, letting the tears escape once again.

“I missed you too. More than I can put into words,” she says, wiping my tears with her fingers. “We’re together now.”

I rest against her chest again, and for the first time in years, I feel like things might finally get better.

[iovebarca]

Returning Home - Pablo Gavi

Authors note: send me some requests!

WC: 1300+

warnings: incorrect grammar (probably), my first language isn't english so if you notice any mistakes please tell me, just fluff!

summary: your visit home takes an interesting turn.

You find yourself at the edge of your childhood town, where the houses are smaller, and the roads are narrower. The memories you buried resurface with each step you take down the familiar streets. Your parents have moved away, but you’re back to help with selling the old house. It’s been years since you were last here, and everything looks both familiar and alien.

You didn’t expect to feel so much, and the emotions that swirl inside you are a complex blend of nostalgia and regret. You wonder how much Pablo has changed since you last saw him. Your heart tightens at the thought of him, your childhood best friend, your almost-love.

The door to your old house creaks open, and a flood of memories rushes in. You recall the countless hours spent playing in the backyard, the late-night conversations, and the moments of unspoken affection that you and Pablo shared. You remember the summer evenings when the two of you would sit on the porch, your shoulders brushing against each other, the air filled with the scent of blooming jasmine and the sound of crickets.

Back then, you didn’t need words to communicate. A glance, a touch, a smile were enough. You both knew what the other was thinking. But as you grew older, the unspoken bond became more complicated. Pablo started to avoid you, his laughter no longer a constant presence in your life. The day he introduced his girlfriend, Sofia, was the day you felt a piece of your heart crumble.

You hear a knock on the door, and your heart skips a beat. It’s Mrs. Ramirez from next door, holding a plate of cookies like she always used to. She’s aged, but her smile is as warm as ever.

“Welcome back, dear. I saw the lights on and thought I’d bring you some of my famous cookies,” she says.

“Thank you, Mrs. Ramirez. It’s good to be back, even if just for a while,” you reply, taking the plate from her.

She nods, her eyes softening. “You know, Pablo still asks about you whenever he’s in town. He’s in town for the summer break.”

Your heart races at the mention of his name. “Oh, really? How is he?”

She smiles knowingly. “Why don’t you find out for yourself? He’s helping with the football clinic at the high school.”

You thank her and close the door, leaning against it. The thought of seeing Pablo again fills you with a mixture of excitement and dread. You decide to go to the high school, unable to resist the pull of your past.

The high school football field is bustling with activity, just like it always was during the summer. You spot Pablo almost immediately. He’s taller, more muscular, and his once-boyish face now has the chiseled features of a man. But his eyes are the same, warm and inviting, and when they meet yours, you see a flicker of recognition and something more.

“Hey,” you say, trying to keep your voice steady.

“Hey,” he replies, a smile spreading across his face. “It’s been a long time.”

“Yeah, it has. How have you been?”

“Good, good. Just busy with football and trying to give back to the community when I can. What about you?”

You both exchange the usual pleasantries, but there’s an undercurrent of tension, a thousand unspoken words hanging between you. The conversation lulls, and you both stand there, unsure of what to say next.

“Do you want to go for a walk?” Pablo asks suddenly.

You nod, and the two of you leave the bustling field behind. The streets are quieter now, the sun casting long shadows as it begins to set. You walk in silence for a while, the comfortable silence that once defined your friendship.

“I missed you,” Pablo says finally, breaking the silence.

You stop, turning to face him. “I missed you too. Why did you pull away?”

He sighs, running a hand through his hair. “I was scared. Scared of what I felt for you. Sofia was...a distraction, a way to try and forget.”

“Did it work?” you ask, your voice barely a whisper.

“No,” he admits, looking down. “I thought it would, but it didn’t. I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t stop wishing things were different.”

You reach out, touching his arm gently. “Pablo, I felt the same way. But I was scared too. I thought you didn’t want me.”

He looks up, his eyes filled with a mixture of regret and hope. “I always wanted you. I still do.”

You take a deep breath, feeling the weight of the past lifting from your shoulders. “So, what now?”

“Now,” he says, taking your hand in his, “we start over. We don’t have to be scared anymore.”

The walk continues, but this time, your hands are intertwined. You talk about everything and nothing, catching up on the years you lost. There’s an ease between you, a sense of rightness that neither of you can deny.

Over the next few days, you and Pablo spend more time together, rediscovering the bond that once defined your lives. It’s as if no time has passed, and yet everything has changed. You visit old haunts, laugh over shared memories, and talk about your hopes and dreams. The connection that was once so fragile now feels unbreakable.

One evening, as the sun sets, you find yourselves back on the porch of your old house. The air is filled with the scent of jasmine, and the crickets are singing their familiar song. Pablo turns to you, his eyes reflecting the fading light.

“I’ve never stopped loving you,” he says softly. “And I don’t want to spend another day without you.”

Tears fill your eyes as you reach for his hand. “I love you too, Pablo. I always have.”

He leans in, and the kiss is tender, filled with years of longing and unspoken words. It’s a promise of a future together, a future that both of you are ready to embrace.

As the days turn into weeks, you and Pablo become inseparable once more. The town, with its narrow streets and small houses, becomes a place of new beginnings rather than old regrets. You find a job at a local gallery, and Pablo continues his football career, traveling for games but always returning home to you. Together, you build a life that’s filled with love, laughter, and the kind of happiness that only comes from being with the person you were meant to be with.

One evening, after one of Pablo's games, you find yourselves back at your place, the excitement of his victory still buzzing in the air. You’re on the couch, wrapped in each other’s arms, sharing little kisses, unable to stop now that you have each other. The TV is on in the background, but neither of you is paying attention. All that matters is this moment, the warmth of his body against yours, the feel of his lips on your skin.

“I don’t ever want to let you go,” Pablo murmurs, his voice husky with emotion.

“Then don’t,” you whisper back, your fingers tracing the lines of his face. “We’ve wasted enough time already.”

He smiles, pulling you closer. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” you reply, feeling the truth of the words deep in your heart.

As the night wears on, you and Pablo continue to hold each other, the unspoken promises of a future together hanging in the air. You know that there will be challenges ahead, with his demanding career and the complexities of life, but for now, in this moment, everything is perfect.

You drift off to sleep in his arms, dreaming of all the possibilities that lie ahead. And as you wake up the next morning, sunlight streaming through the windows, you know that you’ve finally found your way back to each other, and nothing will ever come between you again.

[moonstruckme]

And then I have one but idk which marauder to make it for so I’ll let you pick whoever you think it fits better. I have to take medicine for my OCD and anxiety but it’s embarrassing. So I’m like imagining who you pick staying the night with the reader and her skipping her medicine because she’s embarrassed but being off medicine messes you up. So clearly the reader would be alittle down and out of it so her friend asks her if she’s okay and if she took her medicine. Welllllll the marauder hears that and later that night when they are getting ready for bed he simply hands her a glass and asks her to take her medicine please and mentions how he wants all of her that includes the quirks, need for medicine, and need for comfort sometimes too.

I decided to make this part of the Sirius x Remus' roommate saga, hope that's alright! Thanks for requesting sweetheart <3

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

cw: some symptoms of withdrawal, reader takes prescription meds

modern au

Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 1.5k words

Apparently, even when Sirius gets you out of your flat for the weekend, Remus is still always in the middle of things. 

“I can’t believe you got him to watch New Girl,” Remus complains over speakerphone as you make yourself a cup of tea. Sirius had offered to do it for you, but you’d brushed him off, and he’d been too busy secretly delighting in how comfortable you are in his flat to argue further. “James and I have been trying to get him to watch the first episode for years.” 

“Mmm, you’ve got to start on season three to get people interested, then go back,” you tell him wisely. “I showed him my favorite episode, the one with…uh…”

You trail off, and Sirius looks at you over the top of the couch. There’s a dissatisfied pinch between your brows.

“The one with the spider?” Remus prompts knowingly. 

“Right.” You blink a couple of times, refocusing on your mug as you pour hot water in over the teabag. “That one.” 

“Well, the apartment is quiet without you, but I’m glad you’re having fun.” 

Sirius’ mouth curls as he waits for your response. Though he sometimes still gets jealous of the easy intimacy between you as roommates, he’s come to enjoy the entertainment value of your banter with Remus. The apartment’s just as quiet with me, you’ll say, or You don’t even want to know what kind of fun we’re having. 

But your gaze has gone distant, and after a few seconds, the reply doesn’t seem like it’s going to come. 

Sirius feels worry snake around his ribcage, a light but noticeable pressure. A few hours ago, you’d complained of a headache, and ever since then you’ve seemed in an odd headspace. You’re quieter than you’ve ever been around him, you claimed not to feel like lunch, and he’s caught you stumbling or losing track of your thoughts on more than a couple occaisions. He’d asked once if you’d wanted to go home, but you’d promised you were fine and Sirius didn’t want to push the issue. He loves having you here, he really does, but he hopes it’s nothing about being in his home that’s making you seem so…off. He’d compromised by suggesting you show him that show you’re always referencing (Remus and James were right, it actually is pretty good) in the hopes that a few hours of relaxation would help restore you to yourself, but you don’t seem to be feeling better. 

Even over the phone, Remus picks up on it too. “You alright?” 

“Mm?” You blink. “Oh, yeah.” There’s a forced cheer to your voice, and Sirius watches as you roll your shoulders as if bracing yourself. “I’m just a little tired, I guess.” 

Remus hums, the sound crackling through the speaker. “Did you take your medicine last night?” 

You take him off speaker. Sirius turns when your eyes dart towards where he’s sitting on the couch, taking the coward’s way out on instinct and pretending he wasn’t paying attention. 

“I’m fine,” you say quietly into the phone. Sirius can’t hear Remus well enough anymore to make out his response, but he recognizes the slow, coaxing inflection of his friend’s voice. Your own tone sharpens in contrast, though you sound heartbreakingly exhausted. “I’ve got it. Yep, thanks. See you tomorrow.” 

You blow on your tea as you join Sirius on the couch, not a trace of apprehension about you. He extends his arm invitingly, and you slot underneath it like it’s home. 

“I gather you two aren’t used to time apart,” he teases, trying to entice a smile from you. 

It works, albeit only slightly. The curve of your lips is minute, but he’ll take it. “We’re both homebodies,” you say simply. “We’ve grown too used to being around each other.” 

“His privilege and your curse,” Sirius laments, exaggerating his grunt when you elbow him in the ribs. “Fine, you’re both very lucky. I’m just glad I managed to snag you for one weekend.” When he aims a saccharine smile your way, he suspects you set your cheek on his shoulder as a ploy to hide your blush. It melts him regardless, like ice cream in the summertime. “Want to watch another episode, lovely girl?” 

He frowns when all that gets out of you is a hum, rubbing your bicep as he presses play. 

He manages to get some dinner into you by insisting you try takeaway from his favorite Thai place in the neighborhood, and you seem amenable to the idea of an early night, all but drooping over the sink as you brush your teeth. 

Sirius will never admit it, but his heart is pounding as he takes a glass down from above the kitchen sink, filling it with water. He hopes this isn’t a massive overreach. This thing between you is still relatively new, and the last thing he wants is to make your first stay at his place awkward for either of you, but he cares about you. From what Sirius can tell, you’ve withdrawn into what seems like an unhappy place inside your head, and he can’t just leave you there by yourself. 

He catches you just as you’re leaving the bathroom, passing you the glass of water as casually as he can, as if it's the most routine thing in the world, before taking your place at the sink. “Don’t forget your medicine,” he says softly, taking his toothbrush from beside yours in the cup.

For a moment, you’re quiet. Sirius squirts toothpaste onto his brush, trying his damndest not to look for your reaction in the mirror. 

“You heard Remus on the phone.” It’s almost a whisper. Nowhere close to a question.

“I didn’t mean to,” Sirius apologizes, glancing up at your reflection. You’re looking distant again, your gaze fixed somewhere to the left of his face. “I’m sorry if I heard something you didn’t want me to, but it’s…did you forget?” 

You take another long moment to reply. Sirius is careful to stay quiet, giving you space as you chew your lip, but when your eyes meet his in the mirror you look so crestfallen his heart nearly stops. “I didn’t forget,” you admit. “It’s just so embarrassing, I didn’t want you to know.” 

He can’t stay still anymore. His toothpaste drops with a wet smack into the bowl of the sink when he sets his toothbrush on the rim, and he’s got your hands in his in a second. “Sweetheart, what do you mean?” He keeps ahold of one of your hands, letting his other one coast up your arm to your shoulder, where his thumb massages your collarbone familiarly. “It’s not embarrassing. It’s just, it’s something you need to be yourself. Like…my sparkly doc martens, you know? Or Remus’ chocolate hoards.” 

Your laugh is brief, more a huffed exhale than anything, but Sirius grins at you nonetheless. His hand moves up to cup the back of your neck, thumb soothing over the edge of your jaw. 

“You know what I really like about you?” he asks. You don’t look inclined to answer, but your left brow flicks up as if to say Go on. “Everything.” 

You scoff, seeming lighter even as you pull away from grasp. “Shut up.” 

“No, really,” he insists, vying for your hand back. “Getting to know you, it’s been amazing. Every new thing I learn is just something more to like.” You finally stop fighting him, eyes wary as he grips you by the shoulders, keeping you in place. “I want to learn everything there is to know about you, whenever you’ll let me. And I know I can’t expect it all at once,” he says, voice dropping into a more sincere register, “but I want all of it, including the parts you think—wrongly, I might add—are embarrassing.” He gives your upper arms a light squeeze. “Got that, pretty girl?”

A light blush colors your cheeks, and Sirius grins. You’re getting harder to fluster these days, but he delights in making it happen whenever he can. “Okay,” you say, still a tad sheepish for his liking. He plants a kiss on your cheek. 

“Good. Now go get your meds. I don’t want you passing out during breakfast tomorrow because of withdrawal.” 

“That’s not how it works,” you snipe, but he hears the rattle of pills as you dig through your overnight bag. 

“Whatever,” he says breezily, picking up his toothbrush to put a new dollop of paste onto it. “I just can’t reckon with the idea that Remus still knows things about you I don’t. Shouldn’t I outrank him by now?” 

“You’ve had roommates,” you tell him, coming back into the bathroom with the glass of water half empty. “You’re really going to tell me that they don’t know more about you than I do right now?”

Sirius makes a noncommittal, muffled sound, pointing to his toothpaste-filled mouth as excuse not to answer. 

“Right,” you say drily. “Maybe we should call your pal Remus and see if he happens to recall.” 

Sirius has never spit so fast in his life.