#and so forward with and up front about her emotions to the point where it's almost- if not- impossible to question her honesty | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

norrizzandpia · 9 months ago

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Heyy, hope you’re having a good day.

Don’t know if your requests are open but I really wanted to ask something. Could you write Oscar with baby fever, but like a lot, to the point that Lando knows about it and makes fun of him, and he is always trying to convince reader that they are ready to have a baby and how he would love to see her pregnant and obviously showing all the time vídeos o cute babies. Then to make it a little longer you could make some embarrassing moment of this baby fever, like Oscar getting flustered (or more lol) when seeing reader with a baby or like zac listening him saying some weird stuff, something like that yk. Then after months she accept. (If you are felling writing a little angst, you could write in the same one or another part, they trying to get pregnant but they can’t and Oscar gets very frustrated and ends up venting with Lando or so and little time later they discovered she is pregnant just to end in a cute way).

If you like the idea and decide to write it, feel free to make any changes you desire, I love your writing and I’m sure you’ll make my idea a thousand time better. Thank you <3

It is CRIMINAL how long it took me to answer this superb request.

Let’s Have A Baby, Baby (OP81)

Summary: There is nothing Oscar wants more than for Y/n to get pregnant with his kid, and everyone knows it.

Warnings: sexual conversations, language, Oscar has no filter at all, an extremely graphic and sexual conversation that has Zak traumatized (pray for him), tooth rotting fluff idk where any of this came from

Note: i didn’t put any angst in this because THIS WAS TOO CUTE TO ADD ANYTHING BAD THIS COUPLE DESERVES EVERY BIT OF HAPPINESS AND MORE WITHOUT ANY COMPLICATIONS I MEAN IT.

How do you tell someone having a child at the ripe age of 22 is not a good idea?

Y/n sat at the end of the bed, watching Oscar pace back and forth as he rambled about how much he wanted to get her pregnant.

“Baby, you’d look so pretty. Please? You know how good the sex would be.” He turned toward her, eyes holding hers as he looked at her with his persuasive doe eyes.

Y/n groaned as her head fell back, “Osc, the sex is already good. Why do we need to add a child to the mix?”

Oscar fell to the floor, kneeling in front of her with his hands resting on her knees as he tilted his head, “Because it’ll be fun! And you could dress them up in little clothes and…” He trailed off, his eyes shifting toward the floor before meeting hers once more, “We’d be a family.”

Y/n’s lip pouted out, emotions running strong in her body as her boyfriend held her hands so tightly, “Oscar,” She rubbed lightly over his cheekbone, “I would love to be a family with you, make a family with you, but I just don’t think I’m ready for that right now. Your career is just taking off and I’ve just barely started to figure out what I want to do with the degree I just earned. It’s not the right time.”

Oscar sighed, head lulling forward and into her lap, “Fine. I guess you’re right.”

Y/n smiled softly and folded forward, planting a kiss into his hair as she scratched at his scalp. “This doesn’t mean I don’t ever want kids, you know?”

He gave a small smile into her lap before looking up at her, “I know. I think I’m just a bit crazed with baby fever right now. You’re right. It’s not a good time to have a whole ass kid now.”

Y/n giggled, “Glad we’re on the same page.”

Oscar stood up, moving to sit beside her on the bed. His arm hooked around her waist, pulling her into him and kissing her hair quickly as he murmured, “I still think you’d look good pregnant. With my kid, to be precise.”

—

“Y/n, are you seeing this?!” Oscar exclaimed as he shoved his phone in his girlfriend’s face. The TikTok he was showing her was of a little girl giggling continuously as, from what Y/n could gather, the child’s father tickled her stomach.

She blushed, “Yes, very cute, baby.”

Oscar rolled his eyes, “Exactly. Baby. I want a baby.”

“Mate…” Lando said with exhaustion, his head lulling back onto the couch he was sprawled out on. The McLaren crew members off to the side, getting coffees from the hospitality center, snickered.

Oscar’s head snapped to his teammate, “What? You’re just jealous you don’t have a girlfriend to have a kid with.”

“Oscar!” Y/n yelled, hitting his arm as a warning while Lando just keeled over in laughter.

His face was red as he got out, “Oscah! Who taught you to talk like that?!”

Oscar just smiled, “You.”

Lando leaned back, gasping for breath as he came down, “Does that mean I can be its uncle?”

Oscar shook his head, “I’m thinking godfather.”

Y/n scoffed, “We are not having a child! Stop dreaming of something that is not going to be happening for a few more years.”

Oscar shot her a quick glance with a grin, “Just wait till I give you a preview of what having a kid could let us do and I’m sure your mind will change.”

Lando’s mouth fell open, “I need to be removed from the country after hearing that come out of your mouth.”

“Oscar, there is something mentally wrong with you.” Y/n hit his arm once more, shooting him a warning look.

He sidled up to her, “Think a baby could fix that?”

Y/n groaned and Lando laughed, “OSCAR!”

—

“Y/n! Oscar! Do you guys think you could watch Mila while Sav, Ollie, and I all go for a walk on the paddock?” Lando asked hesitantly, eyeing Oscar with his niece in his arms.

From the way they were staring at each other, Y/n knew Oscar had put Lando up to this. Nonetheless, she smiled, “Sure!”

Oscar beamed.

Y/n took Mila from Lando’s arms, turning to Oscar as Mila stared after her uncle as he walked away. A shy child, Y/n knew Mila would do well with a bit of childish conversation.

“Mila, who’s your favorite? Uncle Lala or Oscar?” Y/n smiled, pinching Mila’s cheeks to draw a few giggles from the little girl.

Mila squealed, “Uncle Lala!! Lala!”

Y/n’s heart warmed at the way the cute child screaming the sweetest nickname. Oscar looked down at his girlfriend and, in his delusions, their child.

He cocked his head, “You fall into the role quite well.”

His comment went ignored by his girlfriend as she continued poking Mila lightly, laughing along with the young girl as her head fell into Y/n’s chest from the tickling.

Y/n smiled up at him before turning around, wandering off into the McLaren garage with Mila still tucked under her arm. Oscar wished he could take a picture. Save it for later. He loved everything before his eyes.

When he was done getting lost in fairy land, he jogged in the direction his girlfriend had taken. What he found was a sight so dear to his heart. Y/n in conversation with Mark, a sleeping Mila in her arms. Part of the reason why he loved the image so much was how comfortable Y/n looked, how Mila laid against her body so easily and how Y/n swayed as if it was second nature.

He wished she could see what he saw.

Mark nodded at him as he came to stand next to Y/n, pulling her into him by the waist and trying to decipher the topic of conversation. “You’re talking about Otmar leaving Alpine?”

“Yeah, good riddance.” Y/n sighed, hand rubbing up and down Mila’s back.

Oscar squeezed her hip softly, “I want to leave that man in my past.”

Mark rolled his eyes, “Don’t we all.”

“There isn’t any corner of the world he could be that is too far from us.” Oscar murmured, face grimacing at the thought of the horrid man.

Y/n laughed and kissed his shoulder, “It’s okay, Osc. You don’t have to deal with him anymore.”

Mark nodded along, eyes entranced with the picture in front of him. He knew Oscar yearned for kid with Y/n, but it had never looked so real before. The boy he had watched grow up, helped fight for, had all of a sudden grown into a man who pushed for children with his girlfriend. Mark knew Oscar was still young, too young for kids, but it still felt a bit odd to see him as someone’s father. It was sobering to see Oscar, his girlfriend, and a child all at once, in a position that made them look like a family. Truthfully, a part of him felt at peace to know the war was over. Oscar had found a seat, a team that prioritized him, and a person who loved him wholly. There was no need to worry about Oscar anymore. What was he to do now?

“Can I take a picture of you two really quick?” Mark asked, a question so surprising Oscar and Y/n shared a strange look.

“Sure?” Y/n said, not fully understanding the reason behind his request.

Mark moved back an inch, position his camera as Y/n and Oscar smiled. Y/n leaned her head against his shoulder while Mila stayed in her arms, still asleep against her body. He turned his camera around to show the couple what he had just captured and Y/n’s heart squeezed. Oscar almost screamed and ripped his hair out. He wanted what this picture implied so badly. With her.

He kept his composure, “We look cute, no?”

Y/n hesitated, a lingering grin on her face as she stared down at the image. Though, her smile lengthened and she tilted her head, “Can you send that to me?”

—

Oscar was in rare form. From the moment he had woken up, he was making suggestive comments in Y/n’s ear. To put it shortly, he was horny for the woman by his side. When Oscar got like this, he became impulsive and threw caution to the wind. Therefore, Y/n wasn’t surprised when he started rambling to her in the middle of the McLaren garage.

“All I’m saying is that you would look damn good carrying my kid.” He giggled, hand dangerously low on her back.

“Oscar…” She whispered, eyes darting around them in an effort to show him how public he was making their conversation.

He shook his head, “No one can hear what I’m saying. They’re too wrapped up in their work. They don’t know that I’m telling you how good it would feel to fuck you raw.”

She blushed, “Oscar,” She tried once more, though her voice was beginning to lose his edge.

His hand brushed her hair out of the way, leaning down to whisper in her ear, “Do you like that idea? Like the thought of me coming inside of you? Like the thought of everyone knowing you’re mine because you’re carrying my child?”

Her hand brushed up against his abs as she turned to look at him, his eyes boring down into hers. “Oscar, you are working.”

“So? We can go try for one right now, love. Just say the word.”

She tried to hold her composure, “Oscar, you are so bold.”

He kissed her softly, “Yeah? Or am I just attracted to the idea of seeing my cum leak out of you? I’d fuck it back into you with my fingers. Make sure it takes.”

Y/n rolled her eyes, but her insides clenched together.

He tried once more, “I can tell you want it. I can feel your skin getting hotter under my hands,” He brushed his fingers against the skin peeking out from her crop top, “I could be feeling you cum around my bare cock too.”

She opened her mouth to respond, but a loud throat clearing stopped her.

Oscar froze, Y/n paled.

The couple turned their heads slowly behind them, Zak side glancing them from his place inches away from them. Oscar opened his mouth to apologize, but Zak put up his hand.

“I never want to talk about this ever again.” He said, his voice so sharp it could cut ice.

Oscar’s hand flew to his mouth, “Zak, I’m so incredibly sorry. That wasn’t meant to be hear-”

Zak shook his head, “Oscar, I don’t care what the hell you do on your free time. Hell! I think it’s endearing how much you want to have kids with your girlfriend. But, I swear to God,” His eyes closed as he took a deep breath, “If I have to hear you talk about doing anything physical with your girlfriend, I will give you a bad car.”

Oscar nodded shortly, “Understood. I’m so sorry.”

Zak grimaced and shivered before giving the couple one last glance. A whisper loud enough for them to hear, “I’m so unsettled.”

Oscar turned back to his girlfriend. The woman so horrified, she refused to look at him.

He tilted his head, “It’s not that bad?”

Y/n snapped her head up at him. Her gaze fiery, it turned Oscar on. “You will never speak to me when we are near Zak, yeah?”

She walked away before he could respond.

“Y/n, that’s insane!” He screamed as he ran after her.

Lando chuckled to himself at the scene. Not knowing what Oscar had said, but inferring from the way Zak stared at a trash can like he was five seconds from vomiting into it.

—

Oscar stared down at Y/n as they laid in bed together, post-sex haze slowly depleting. His hand pushed tangled hair out of her face as he laid small kisses on her face, “I love you,” He whispered.

She smiled softly, “I love you too.”

From the way his eyes softened, Y/n’s being found peace. When she was younger, she had been so convinced she would never find love, never find a man who wanted to love her. Part of her wished she could go back in time and show her 16 year old self a picture of Oscar, detailing the man she would later find. Even though they fought and he got her so annoyed sometimes, he would always live to show her that what she had thought was unrealistic in love, was completely attainable. She had loved romcoms, yearning for that kind of feeling for someone else, but she was always lectured on how impossible that was. Oscar was the living counter argument to that statement. From the way he looked at her to the delicate nature of how he held her hand, she was secure in his love for her. A child was a lot, but a child was also a statement of forever. She wanted forever with Oscar, he did too. She wanted to share something so intimate with him beyond sex and vulnerability.

She wanted a kid with him.

In the silence of the night, she lightly spoke the words, “I think I’m ready for a baby.”

A year later and the sentence finally met his ears. Oscar stared at the wall behind her for a moment before letting his gaze fall to her.

“What?” Is all he could find within himself. The woman and the words of his dreams, finally a reality.

She giggled, “I’m ready to try for kids, Osc.”

His hands flew to cradle her face. He shook her head lightly as tears flooded his vision. His voice broke, “What?”

He couldn’t begin to muster another syllable, the staring was all his body could take. He wanted to memorize the twinkle in her eye as she completed his world. He wanted to think back on this moment and remember the way her hand felt against his rapidly beating heart, the way his hands got lost in her hair, the smell of her faded perfume, and the sincerity in her words.

He kissed her lips, soft and gentle as tears fell from his eyes. When they pulled back, she laughed and wiped the wetness on his cheeks, “Why are you crying, baby?”

His mouth opened and closed before speaking, “Because we’re having a kid… and I’ve found you, found the person I know the rest of my life was meant to be shared with. I think I’m just…” He trailed off, trying to find his words amongst all the things swirling around in his body, “I always knew I would be proud of myself if I got into F1, achieved a seat in the sport. I thought that would be the greatest achievement of my life, the most proud I would’ve ever been of myself. But, that’s not true because, in this moment, I am so much more proud of myself for being worthy enough of you and having a kid with you than getting a seat in Formula 1. I never thought about who I would settle down with, but now that I know it’s you, I can’t believe it was ever something that wasn’t on my mind. You are everything I ever think about. The life awaiting us and whatever tries to ruin our plans, I want it all. You are the beginning and end of my life.”

Y/n’s eyes were teary by the end of his confession, feeling as if she was drowning in the love of the moment.

When they kissed again, it felt more solidifying. Solidifying in that tomorrow, when they were filled with energy again, they would try for a baby. Solidifying that sometime, whether that was five years in the future or next week, a positive pregnancy test would sit brightly on the counter of their bathroom, affirming the forever they already knew was in store.

—

(ONE MONTH LATER)

How do you tell someone they’re 23 and going to be a dad?

Y/n snuck through the McLaren building at the Australian Grand Prix. Lando was in tow behind her as well as Mark and Oscar’s family, all eight of them tiptoeing toward Oscar’s room with large smiles.

Y/n clutched the pregnancy test in her hands, palms sweating heavily moments before she presented Oscar with news that would send him into sobs. No doubt.

“That one,” Lando whispered, pointing toward a black door at the end of the hallway. When they reached it, Y/n turned back.

“Who’s recording?” She asked quietly as Mark smiled and shoved his phone out in front of him.

Y/n giggled, “Screenager,” before sending him a playful glance, her teasing out of love.

With another look to the group, her knuckles rapped on the door.

“One sec!” Oscar’s voice yelled, a few moments passing before he was flinging the door open with a smile. That smile, however, soon fell slightly at the sight of everyone he ever loved standing before him.

“Oh, no. What have I done?” He asked, face dropping as he made eye contact with his beaming mother. “What’s going on?” He asked, slightly confused at the manic faces of his family and closet friend.

“Oscar,” Y/n whispered, his attention drawing to her immediately.

His head cocked to the side, “Baby, what’s going on?”

Y/n smiled, “A baby.”

His confusion grew, “What do you mean ‘a baby’?”

“Oscar…” She said once more, hands shifting in their grasp.

In the tone of her voice, he found happiness.

“No,” He whispered.

Her hands came to rest between their bodies, the pregnancy test on clear display, “Yes,”

A very concerning scream erupted from Oscar before be flung himself into the arms of his girlfriend and, therefore, everyone behind her. There was loud squeals and laughter before Oscar pulled back.

“THERE’S GOING TO BE A BABY?!” He screamed, the volume bouncing off the walls and most likely down to the garage.

Y/n nodded, “OUR BABY!”

Another scream that Lando would have to make fun of Oscar for later. The couple hugged each other tightly, jumping and down in the most giddy way. Truly embarrassing for Oscar, according to Lando, but the Brit also knew how much his friend had pleaded for this.

It was clear in the way he choked back tears; clear in the way he held Y/n; clear in the way he stuffed the pregnancy test into his pocket, mumbling to himself about wanting to put it in a scrapbook for their first child.

Maybe the moment could have been left to just Oscar and Y/n, but, as they all conversed excitedly about nine months in the future, Oscar found everything he ever needed.

Formula 1 was a bonus.

This was his dream.

Y/n and Baby 1 were his drea-

Y/n and Baby 1 were his reality.

#mclaren #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #f1 imagine #f1 fic #mclaren formula 1 #oscar piasstri #oscar pia #oscar piastri fanfic #oscar piastri fanfiction #oscar piastri imagines #oscar piastri imagine #oscar piastri #oscar piastri fluff #oscar piastri smut #oscar piastri x reader #lando norris fluff #lando norris x reader #lando norris

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catcatb0y · 2 years ago

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#oh my god Emu would LOVE Bakugou #homegirl is OBSESSED with explosions #and so forward with and up front about her emotions to the point where it's almost- if not- impossible to question her honesty #she wholeheartedly believes in a better future for people (almost to a fault where she can't see the bad in people*)#*or choses not to #and I honestly think she would admire his honesty. dedication. and drive #also it's HILARIOUS to imagine Bakugou fuckinf Katsuki as Great Explosion Murder God DNYAMIGHT being followed #by this short pink piece of energetic bubblegum with the BIGGEST smile on her face talking about how cool his explosions are #'Wahh! It was so ka-woosh! Bawawa-WHOOM!!'#'Hah? It was so more fwoom! Ka-bam-BOOM!!'#and she just nods along like a kid in a candy shop while they argue about which odd outlandish onomanopia to use #she would also a HUNDRED percent call him Great Explosion Murder God DynaMight in full every time #with utmost enthusiasm and sincerity

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sashisuse · 6 months ago

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okay so what we’re not going to do is villainize shoko.

jjk 261 spoilers, thoughts, and a brief analysis of shoko. (and touching on some sashisu stuff. more specifically the sash part.)

i see a lot of people bashing her for not having a reaction to the body swapping plan and that satoru was like ‘i’m mostly surprised shoko didn’t object’ SO. here’s what i’ve got to say.

shoko didn’t object because she was fully under the belief that satoru was going to win. that it wasn’t going to happen. it was literally the worst worst worst WORST case scenario. she had SO MUCH faith in satoru.

let’s rewind back to the shibuya arc. what we knew about shoko at that time regarding her use of cigarettes was that she had quit five years (iirc) prior to those events. her smoking habits literally revolve around satoru’s wellbeing.

mind you this was after she and yaga learned satoru had been sealed. she heard the news and immediately began smoking. why? because shoko is a person who masks her emotions and she does it well. she’s not the type of woman to break down in tears. she’s going to hide it and instead light up a cigarette.

we saw this with her interaction with suguru. she acted very nonchalant about his defection and the massacre he committed on the village and his parents. but when we fast forward ten years and go to jjk0, it’s made abundantly clear that she still cares about him. during the meeting where yaga declares they’re going to kill suguru — i’m pretty sure his words were ‘exorcise the curse that is geto suguru’ or something along those lines — shoko leaves. she flat out walks out. and during the night parade of 100 demons, we have a moment where see the most emotion out of shoko that we have for the majority of the series. she’s angry. she’s hurt. she has these thoughts of something along the lines of like ‘you sure made a mess for us’ regarding suguru. and it’s especially prominent because it’s the first time we’ve ever seen her like this and only time. the closest we get to seeing that again is during the sukuna fight.

she literally cares so much but she’s just emotionally constipated and doesn’t know how to show it 😭 it’s an issue both she and satoru have. they deflect. they mask. they move on and yet the carry it with them somewhere deep inside them.

so we go back forward to satoru and sukuna’s fight. where we do see emotion from shoko but what’s most important to note is the panels she’s in. when they focus on her, she’s either smoking a cigarette, lighting a cigarette up, or we see her surrounded by cigarette butts.

we see her genuinely fearful at this point. she had full confidence that satoru was going to win. that’s why she said ‘do what you want’ and didn’t object. because in her mind, it wouldn’t happen.

it’s very important to remember that sashisu, whether you see it in a romantic or platonic way, was a group that cared so fucking deeply for one another. their bonds were deep. their love for their found family was deep. it’s part of the reason why suguru defected in the end. which i can get it into but not at this time. but at the end of the day, sashisu had ass communication skills and failed to properly understand one another.

and that seems to continue on with the satoshoko side of that, which was left after suguru left. and after he died.

also, it’s really important to remember that shoko is not like satoru and suguru. she’s a healer. that’s it. that’s all she does. she doesn’t get to fight or be on the front lines like they do. she’s the one who gets to wait behind and wait until the damage is done to do her job. she’s been doing this since she was (probably) 15, maybe even younger since we don’t know her backstory. she’s going to be emotionally detached. also, keep in mind this page:

specifically her first piece of dialogue. ‘it’s more like we have to do it.’

and that’s the bottom line.

whew. this was rough. shoko ieiri you will always be loved by me.

#jujutsu kaisen #shoko ieiri #gojo satoru #geto suguru #sashisu #satoshoko #satosho #sugushoko #if you guys don’t understand shoko #you can just say that #but don’t villainize her #there’s inevitably going to be an aftermath #and we’ll see what happens then.#jjk 261 #jjk spoilers #jujutsu kaisen spoilers #sabé is gnawing at the bars of their enclosure

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obxsummer · 9 days ago

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loml (loss of my life) // ghost of you

pairing: jj maybank x routledge!reader

summary: jj up and leaves in search of his dad after receiving a weird letter and kiara witnesses a showdown between you and rafe that reveals more about what happened between the two of you than you wanted to share.

warnings: angsty angst angst, ptsd, rafe cameron muahaha, szn 4 spoilers

navigation -- series masterlist

ask me anything

Let’s do a little recap, okay?

In the last 48-72 hours, a lot of shit had gone down. And now, the seven of you were rehashing the details, so, might as well share them. JJ bid off the last of the gold, Wes Genrette gave y’all five grand to find a necklace, you and JJ found the necklace but managed to land in the hospital, Wes ended up dead somehow, Topper’s girlfriend almost killed you all, Cleo got kidnapped, JJ got interrogated by Shoupe because Kooks take no threat lightly, and now Terrance was dead in your living room.

Yeah, dead. In the living room.

So, that’s what everyone had been up to. For the most part, anyway.

You slept. You slept for 14 hours with no interruption and no intent of doing anything else as rain battered against the windows. The last few days didn’t feel real and you were terrified the moment you tried to get going again, something else would go wrong.

The rest of the Pogues handled things while leaving you to rest, to which you were extremely grateful. Cleo climbed in bed with you at some point, sobbing into your chest as you held her tightly, allowing her the space to let out all emotions.

After laying Terrance to rest, the lot of you were heading to Charleston in hopes of figuring out what exactly the amulet inscription said. There was of course the matter of the property tax and zoning change lingering over your heads while all of this was decided.

You hung back with JJ while he fixed the Twinkie, agreeing to prep the store for your departure and handle business until you had to leave. It wasn’t anything too heavy on your brain but it kept you occupied enough to prevent thinking about worse things.

“Babe.” JJ came flying into the covered dock with a rush, practically tripping on his own feet to get to you.

“What’s wrong?”

The instant concern on your face made him feel guilty. You’d been jumpy, rightly so, after everything happened. Especially now that the cops were aware of JJ’s threat, it was only a matter of time before someone came looking for you in retaliation.

He held a piece of paper in front of your face, waving it around chaotically where you couldn’t catch a glimpse of the writing. “I gotta go. I gotta- look.”

“Breathe.” You put your hands on his shoulders to keep him upright. “What is it?”

“A letter, from Wes Genrette. Said my dad would know, I gotta find him.”

“Your dad?!” You repeated in shock, hoping he was lying or at least misspeaking. “Jayj, your dad left.”

He shook his head, jumping forward to kiss you like his life depended on it. Fingers slipping into your hair, he repeated his action before pulling away. “Gotta trust me, baby. Be careful, alright? Go to Charleston, stay with John B. I’ll be back.”

You nodded in response, holding on to his fingers as long as you could before he pulled away and ran down the dock to the HMS Pogue. You hated not know what he intended on doing, but like he said, you had to trust him. No matter what, you trusted him. And maybe it would bite you in the ass, but you had to try.

Not long after, the remainder of the group returned from their ceremony for Terrance and found you in the shop. You sat on the counter where you’d been in a daze while watching the water.

“What’s up?” John B asked as he tapped the counter surface and climbed up next to you, recognizing the look in your eyes enough to know you weren’t fully present. The group piled in the area, taking their own spots.

“JJ left,” You explained directly. “Came running in here spewing all this shit about his dad, took the HMS, and left.”

Pope frowned at the news and grabbed a bag of chips to munch on. “Ohhkay. Are we supposed to wait on him or?”

You shook your head. “He said go. He’d catch up later.”

“Are you okay with that?” John B watched you carefully, knowing last time you’d left JJ in Kildare with no way to get ahold of him had terrified you. He promised to never do that to you again, to make sure you were comfortable and in the right state of mind to make those decisions yourself.

You looked over at your brother and shrugged honestly. “He said it had to do with his dad, John B. I don’t like that.”

“He said to go,” Cleo repeated as she dug her knife into the wood of the support post. “We should go.”

You licked your lips and took a deep breath. She was right. JJ was fully capable of handling himself, and with the dirt bikes here, he could catch up easily if he wanted. Nodding, you looked at John B. “She’s right, we need to go.”

John B nodded when you didn’t budge. “Alright, we’ll go load up the Twinkie. Meet us up there, when you’re ready.”

The group followed your brother up to the house, giving you some space and time to wrap up the shop and get your things together.

“Hey.” You looked up to see Kiara standing a few feet away from you, her fingers tangled together in nervousness.

“Hi,” You returned the greeting and climbed off the counter, shifting behind the register to collect the cash from today and lock up.

Kie walked a little closer and cleared her throat. “I just…um. I wanted to say I’m sorry, for the other day on the beach. I shouldn’t have lashed out on you like that when you had a good point.”

Your hands moved absentmindedly to band together the few bills you’d collected for the day before tucking them in the lockbox and hiding it in the safe. Kiara continued to try and explain herself, which you appreciated, but it wasn’t necessary.

“Kie,” You interrupted her softly with a small laugh, “It’s okay, girl. I promise.”

“I just got really scared,” She admitted sheepishly and tugged on her curly hair. “I saw us getting attacked, again, and someone going to jail. And I… I can’t do that again. Not after everything that’s happened.”

“I get it Kie, really. I mean, at first, I was upset because why were you mad that I was trying to defend us but to be honest, there’s so much more going on right now that my mind is clouded with.” You weren’t trying to come off rude, but the way she immediately switched on you as if she wouldn’t have lost her mind over dead baby turtles…

“Are y’all done?” Your heart dropped at the all too familiar voice and you looked up to meet Rafe Cameron’s eyes. He smirked at your shocked expression and he took a step closer making you take one back.

“What are you doing here?” Your voice was shaky and you refused to break eye-contact with him. The pocket knife slipped between your fingers as Kiara moved to stand behind you.

Rafe scratched his head as if his presence was a normal thing and he wandered around the shop, running his fingers across the shelves. “Uh, yeah. Do you—what you don’t think I’m just a customer coming to shop?”

“Rafe,” You snapped, your tone having a bite to it to let him know you weren’t down for games.

He fiddled with random items as he crossed the wooden floor to get closer to you and Kie. “I’m just looking for my sister.”

“She doesn’t want to see you,” Kiara answered as her fingers wrapped around your elbow. How Rafe managed to get in here without any of your friends noticing, you weren’t sure.

“Well, she’s my sister, okay? I can come have a little chat with her if I want,” He dismissed with a scoff. He grabbed a snow globe in his hands and your mind suddenly went to the ways he would probably kill you with it. “That was a really nice performance yesterday at the break. Really fun to watch, it was awesome. You know this place is on the chopping block, right?”

“Let me guess, you’re behind that or something?” You sneered at his nonchalant attitude. “I don’t know why Sofia puts up with you.”

Rafe flipped around pretty quick at the mention of the girl’s name. “You really ran your mouth to her huh? Took me a while to convince her that things had changed.”

“Did you drug her too?”

He was quick to close the gap between you, hands pressing against the counter that barely separated the two of you. “No, no. She uh, told me about your little problem, though.” Rafe motioned toward your abdomen with a hint of a smirk on his face.

Your eyes burned with tears as you realized what he was referring to, and you’d never felt betrayal like this in your life. “Fuck you, Rafe.”

He groaned and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes like his brain had flipped a switch. “Fuck, that’s not- no. No. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to say that.”

“You did!” You spat as tears fell down your cheeks. Kiara’s gaze was burning into the side of your head as she watched the two of you argue, no words coming to mind as she watched you cry. “You always mean it!”

Pope clocked your distance immediately. He knew you wouldn’t be super warm and energetic after coming back from the Camerons’, even less so with John B in prison. He knew that, but there was something off about it. You weren’t just hiding away to cope, you were hiding in pain.

From the subtle wincing, the paleness in your skin, and slow movements, something was wrong. At first he chalked it up to getting your nutrition back and sleeping properly, but when it didn’t improve, Pope knew he needed to step in.

It didn’t come to that, though. You’d pulled him away from plotting on how to catch Ward and Rafe and into the hushed space of your room. As much as you wanted to handle it all on your own, you knew if any of your friends could keep things down low and quiet, it would be Pope.

“Are you okay?” He asked, his voice soothing and concerned as you paced in front of your bed.

The darkness in your eyes was so sad, and so terrified that Pope was worried you were too far past where he could help. You stopped in front of him, hands shaking as you laid out the details of your concern..

“I need your help, Pope. Please, I don’t know what to do.”

Rafe paced a few steps and shook his head. “You know, I came here to try and do you a solid, a-and you just push my buttons every time that-“ He paused and let out a deep breath. “I want to be better. I want to try and be a good brother, and fix what happened but,” He snapped his fingers in front of your eyes and you stumbled back. “You guys always wonder why you end up at the bottom of the food chain, it’s…it’s sad.”

You almost choked on your tears and attempted to give him the most menacing glare but it was useless. Stabbing you in the heart would’ve been less painful than this.

He walked around the counter to face you directly and you decided then you had nothing to lose. If he killed you, it would be welcomed at this point. He’d shredded you down to bones and still couldn’t stop taking digs at the scars left behind.

Every movement of his body screamed addiction withdrawal, and while you hoped he could be better for Sofia, you didn’t believe he could change. You wished the light in his eyes would fucking burn, that you didn’t have the empathy to hope for him to get better but God, you did. You wished Rafe Cameron would’ve been a better person. And you wish the world wouldn’t have been so cruel to him that he could’ve been better to you.

Rafe’s hand was shaking as he placed it on your arm gently. His face contorted when you gasped like he’d burned you and he pulled back. Instead, he reached into his pocket and held out a small card between his fingers. “I… this is my business card. Tell Sarah to call me, I think I can help. Or… or if you need anything to help, okay? I’m not your enemy.”

Silence hovered the three of you, Kiara’s fingers in your back pocket as you stood eye to eye with the person who ruined your entire past and most of your future. He must’ve realized you had nothing to say and dismissed himself from the store without another word.

The second the bell rang with his exit, your knees gave out and hit the floor. You gasped and heaved for air, threatening to throw up the breakfast JJ had made you.

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” Kiara reassured as you sobbed. “He’s gone.”

You forced a deep breath in your lungs and held it as long as possible. You were so sick of crying and feeling useless when everyone else seemed to take it all in strides and you were left a broken piece at the starting line. Life was so cruel to you, and now, more than ever, you wanted to give up on trying to run from the impending reminder that Rafe Cameron scarred you in more ways than one.

“Breathe,” Kiara reminded you as she scanned your eyes for any sign of pain. “John B!”

The yell for your brother had you clamming up as you jumped to stop her. There were so many tears on your face and you looked so scared. “No, don’t call John B.”

Kie shook her head, utterly confused and concerned by your actions. “You’ve gotta tell me what’s going on.”

You whimpered and laid back on the floor with a shaky breath. “I will, but you have to swear on your life not to tell anyone. Not John B, none of them, okay?

If Kiara wasn’t so rattled by the last twenty minutes, she would’ve probably agreed with crossed fingers for your safety. But seeing you like this, so raw in front of her after she’d yelled at you for expressing your feelings, she nodded. “Yeah, okay. Okay. I swear.”

It took a few more deep breaths to settle enough to speak without hiccuped sobs seeping in your words. And so you told her. You told her what happened in the Camerons’ house, how Rafe had left you with more than surface level scars and how you’d never forgiven yourself for giving up, for letting him win.

Because some people only got one chance at family, and Rafe Cameron had taken that from you before you even had the slightest idea what life would mean without it.

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a/n: broke this chap into two parts to give you more original content in the next one! more insight into the reader's time at the cameron house ;)

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actually-safer-to-kiss · 1 year ago

Note

What about an angst to fluff where reader and Spencer aren’t exactly dating but they had a date planed and Spencer cancelled cause he had a case. Reader goes to a bar with her friends and sees Spencer walking in with JJ or someone undercover but reader thinks he blew her off for another date…

So Two FBI Agents Walk Into a Bar...

Summary: Reader confronts Spencer after finding him at a bar with another woman.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Slight angst-to-fluff

Word count: 1k

A/N: Thank you for submitting, and thank you thank you for your patience 🩵

The evening was supposed to be perfect. A soft breeze rustled the leaves of the trees lining the quiet street as the setting sun cast a warm glow over the city. The air was thick with anticipation as you carefully selected your outfit for the night. You had a date planned with Spencer, the enigmatic and brilliant man you’d been getting to know over the past few months. You weren’t officially dating, but the chemistry between you two was undeniable, and this was meant to be a significant step forward.

But life had a way of throwing curveballs. Just hours before your scheduled meet-up, Spencer called to cancel. Granted, you could hear the frustration and exhaustion (because when is he not working) over the phone, the pang of disappointment hitting your core was still hard to ignore. There was an urgent case that apparently demanded his attention, so he had to be there. You hated to understand the demands but simply agreed to postpone your plans and hung up with a sigh.

Instead of moping for the rest of the evening, your friends convinced you to join them at a nearby bar. They promised laughter, good company, and a distraction from the pain that often came with new men in your life. Reluctantly, you agreed and soon found yourself amidst the lively chatter of the bar, a drink clinging to your hand throughout the evening

As the sun began disappearing and evening blended into night, your friends’ laughter became infectious, and you began to relax. You were sharing stories, trading jokes, and momentarily forgetting about the original plans with Spencer. But it was as if the universe heard you because a sudden hush fell over your table as the group’s attention was drawn toward the entrance.

There, walking in, was Spencer. And a woman. A woman who was indeed not you. A leggy blond in a little black dress that, of course (of-fucking-course), looked fantastic on her.

Your heart sank at the sight. Spencer Reid had cancelled your date only to go out with someone else. The initial shock turned into a whirlwind of emotions—hurt, anger, and a sense of betrayal. A full-course meal of confusing feelings right in front of you as you still couldn’t believe your eyes.

Your friends, however, watched in real time as the feelings played out on your face. They exchanged knowing glances as the turmoil only set in further in front of them. And it’s before they have a chance to react that you’ve stormed over to them. Your voice wavered, a mix of anger and hurt trading places as you said, “Seriously, Spencer? You cancelled on me for someone else?” You gestured toward the woman, who was now looking up at you. She had gorgeous blue eyes, and it didn’t help your self-esteem in the slightest. “Does she know you did this? I doubt it.”

Spencer’s own eyes widened at the surprise, and he jumped to his feet. The urgency and frustration (of getting caught, clearly) were just as evident on his face. “Y/N, wait.” He says. “You have it all wrong here.”

You weren’t ready to listen, though. The feelings festering in your body had reached their boiling point, and you were determined to let Spencer feel the burn. “Save it! I can’t believe you would do this to me. I thought we had…” Tears started welling up the moment you felt yourself on a roll, as if tonight couldn’t be more embarrassing. “I thought you were different.”

Spencer took hold of your arm. His grip was firm but not forceful, pulling you into a quieter, more secluded corner of the bar (where your friends could still see you as their heads bobbed from the table like pigeons). “Okay, okay,” Spencer began, whether to you or himself; you couldn’t tell. “Listen, you’re just going to have to trust me on this. That woman, her name is J.J. She’s a co-worker. She’s married, happily married, and we’re working undercover on a case. I didn’t blow you off for a date.”

And it was then; your anger had no choice but to waver. As his words sank in, confusion replaced the initial fury. “Undercover? A case? You mean the case is happening now?”

Spencer nodded, rapidly, like he was on a sugar high. “Yes! Look!" He even messed with the collar on his cardigan, revealing the tiny microphone clipped to it. It blended in with its navy color. “I know it looks bad. I do. But I promise, there’s nothing between me and J.J. It’s all part of the investigation.”

You looked Spencer in the eyes; they were sad and starting to gloss. “So, your people, the others in on the investigation... they can hear you right now?”

Spencer’s lips thinned out. “Yeah.”

“Have they said anything?”

“Morgan’s too busy laughing. I can’t hear anything else.”

The anger began melting away, replaced by a mix of frustration and embarrassment. You looked down, the foolishness of jumping to conclusions finally catching up to you. The scene you made. “I… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have assumed the worst.”

Spencer clipped the mic back into place and gave you a reassuring smile. “It’s okay. I understand why you were upset. But just know I would never intentionally hurt you like that.”

You met his gaze, the tension between you easing. “I should have trusted you.”

Spencer’s smile widened slightly as he reached out to cup your cheek. His hand is cold but soft. “So, can we start over?”

You nodded, smiling now. “Yeah, let’s start over.”

Spencer nodded. Plans were already made. Spencer was at work. Before heading back to J.J., Spencer made the gentlemanly choice to walk you back to your group of friends. Before he had a chance to introduce himself and depart gracefully for the night, he jerked down to his mic. “I heard that, Morgan. Hey, at least I have a girlfriend.”

You, however, pretended not to hear. You trust he’ll say it again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid/you #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid oneshot #spencer reid one shot #spencer reid blurb #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #criminal minds fanfiction

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wandanatswitch · 29 days ago

Text

Hour of the Owl

Pairing: Dowager!Queen Alicent Hightower x Targaryen!Fem!Reader

Genre: Angst w/ happy ending

Summary: “Love can become both a sanctuary and a peril”

Warnings: NSFW +18 minors DNI, age gap (reader is aprox 18, Alicent is aprox 37), step-cest?, mentions of targcest, fingering? (reader receiving) oral (reader receiving), semi-public sex, mentions of infidelity (not between the main characters), religious shame and guilt, mention of suicidal thoughts, emotional dependency/obsession, mentions of homophobia, kinda? Toxic relationship, manipulation, I kinda wrote the reader from a BPD perspective so she could have some traits. Let me know if there's anything missing! NO DANCE OF DRAGONS AU! Note: English is not my first language! And this is my first time writing a fic so please let me know what you think <3 Also there is very few use of Y/N!

Words: 2.9K

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ ⁺

“May I join you, Princess?”

The oh so familiar voice echoes through the empty gardens of the red keep perturbs your quiet late night stroll.

“Of course, Your Grace…” You reply while looking at the bushes filled with different coloured roses. “Is something the matter?”

You wished to deny her, you really did… but as always, you failed to do so, you just could not bring yourself to say no to her, nor to reject her presence, the one that made you feel that stupid agonising passion that made you wish it was possible that two people were one. You wanted to be binded to her. You wanted to lay down under the same tree where you kiss her so desperately, and merge with her so you could never be separated from one another ever again.

She approaches ever so carefully, moving her hand slightly forward, making your hands faintly touch… An innocent mistake is what she would answer if you reproach her.

“Not at all” She gently caresses the edge of the rose petals in front of you. “I simply wished to know if you have received any letter from my son” A lie. “I know i have not received one since he left” Another lie. You knew for a fact that Aemond had written to the Dowager Queen, he told you himself in the only letter he had written to you, and you had heard Princess Helaena trying and failing to tell Aegon about what their brother had written to their mother… “Mother said he was vague , but that he was well… he wrote that he is not bored as he expected to be and that he is actually having a good time…” is what you heard Helaena say, but you stopped listening when Aegon groaned at his sister-wife’s words.

“What is your need to lie to me, Your Grace?” You did not look up from the flowers, you did not dare. “You always lie, at this point i find myself believing that lying is the only thing you know how to do”

That gained you a sigh from her “You are right, I apologize…” she whispers “I just wanted to be alone with you—”

“Please, do not say anything else and just leave” you cut her off in a hostile tone but whispered voice “You said it yourself, we are sinful. This is a sin. We are wrong and the Gods will punish us if we do not stop whatever twisted and vile-” she cut you off when she placed her hand on your cheek, caressing it gently with her thumb.

“I know, my darling but—” she tries to plead, but her words get cut off again. You step back, causing her hand to drop back to her side. “You always do this!” you whisper loudly “You always do this! And it is not fair that you get to treat me like a stupid toy that you only wish to hurt!” Tears are rolling down your face at this point, much to your dislike.

“I am so stupidly tired of this, and I simply cannot bear this anymore…” You closed your eyes and tried to be strong and take a deep breath, but it came out shaky and broken. “...I have two children, Alicent… What am I supposed to tell them when they see me cry in front of them because I just can’t take it anymore? That their grandmother's favorite pastime is to hurt me…?

“Princess, you are speaking foolishly—” The Dowager Queen tries to say calmly, but once again, she finds her words being cut off.

“Am I?!” You are shouting at this point. The anger, the frustration, the pain, the hurt, everything, finally finding a way out. “Yes you are!” The older woman shouted, matching your tone. “My goal has never been to hurt you! Your pain is the last thing I would ever wish for! Ever!” “You are a liar! You have proven yourself to be—”

“I do not lie to hurt you, I lie so I do not lose you!” She starts to lower her voice, although her tone is still full of frustration. “I love you, you know that very well” “No you do not, if anything you despise me” The Targaryen princess tries to say firmly, but her voice wavers from the tears she has spilled “You would have to despise someone to hurt them like you have hurt me” You look at Alicent right in the eyes “Maybe is not me who you wish to hurt. Maybe you wish to hurt my mother and I am nothing more than a discardable piece to accomplish it.” Your breath quickens, your heart hurts and you feel like dying… you feel as if nothing matters anymore, and at this very moment you just wish to die.

“You just cannot stand the fact that my mother is Queen, can you? And you are not only taking your frustrations out on me, but you are also trying to hurt her through me. That is what I am to you, right?”

“I will not allow you to say such idiotic, and simply untrue words” Alicent is angry. Angry at herself, angry at the Gods… but she is not angry at you, not fully at least. How can she blame you for thinking that?

She should have been smarter about this whole relationship, the Hightower thought to herself. She should have never given into her sinful desires, but the want overpowered her… If she didn't know better, she would have thought that you were the reward the Gods had given her for enduring more than fifteen years of not only being Viserys' wife, but also a Queen… Turns out you were not her reward, but her damnation.

“I love you, Y/N” She states, her voice unwavering “I do. I love you more than i have ever loved anything before” The auburn haired woman lets out a tired sigh before walking closer to you. She lifts a hand to place at your waist out of pure habit, but she decides against it when she sees the anger and hurt still lingering in the younger girl's eyes. “I do not feel angry at the thought of Rhaenyra sitting on the throne, I promise you that. If anything, I am relieved… I do not have as much responsibility as I had before… And I do have more liberties too, the eyes of the court are not on me anymore, at least most of the time they are not… If Aegon had been crowned king, most of the responsibility still would have been thrown at me, besides I know he would have not been a good king…” Alicent fidgets with her hands as she continues “And the stupid anger i had for your mother, the foolish one sided fight i had with her for years… is over. I know the tension remains, but I promise you, Y/N, I do not hate her, nor do I wish for her downfall or to cause her pain. I wish her well in her reign.” The older woman’s hands grip the fabric of her dress in an attempt to keep her emotions at bay. “So no, you are not “a discardable piece”, Princess” The Princess does not know what to say, so she ultimately decides to sit at a nearby bench in complete silence. “My dear…” Alicent whispers to the younger woman. “I do not believe you.” The princess does not look up from the ground. “I do not believe a word of what you just said.” Alicent has to swallow a sob, but she cannot hold the tears any longer.

“...Why not?” The Hightower whispers as she tries to wipe her falling tears.

“Why…!?” You stand up from the bench and walk towards her, “Why do I not believe you, you ask?! Because like I said before, you have proven yourself to be a liar, Alicent!” The Princess looks up in an attempt to stop more tears to fall, but quickly realizes that it was a futile attempt to stop what she cannot control. “And because you have never once told me about what you just said. You never open up or tell me how you feel! So how am I supposed to believe you?!” The older woman tightens her lips before speaking up. “Alright. You want me to open up? i will.” Alicent steps closer to you and lifts both of her hands to place them on your waist, and this time she decides not to stop the action. “I wish I was born a man so that I could have you like your husband has you. I wish that I was a man so that loving you was not a sin, but I have slowly come to accept that I would gladly be damned to any of the seven hells if it means that I get to have you, to love you, or to even see your face every day. But I still wished that I was born a man… because it is not fair that my own son gets to have you but if I do as much as to touch your hand I will be considered a sinner by the Gods.” She sounds desperate… She looks desperate.

“I wish I was a man, so I could grab you by your waist, and push you against a wall, and kiss you until you stopped breathing, and do it without fear” Her hands move to your hips. “….If I were a man, I would use you, I would spoil you, I would devour you, but above all I would love you without fear” Alicent’s grip tightens against your hips. “Oh, Princess… How I would love you… If only fate would have been kinder…”

You have stayed quiet up until this point, the words you are hearing have both made you feel like the most loved woman in the seven kingdoms, and the most doomed one at the same time. “...I do not want you a man, I want you…” You whisper, but your voice does not lack certainty. “I want you as you are…”

Alicent’s eyes look at your own. She is looking at you with such love and tenderness… the kind that makes you melt and doubt if anyone has ever been loved like that before. “I know, sweetling…” The woman’s right hand moves to your tear stained cheek.

You look at Alicent with a pained expression “I love you” Your hand reaches her cheek as you lean forward for a kiss. You kiss her softly, trying to demonstrate with a kiss all the love you feel for her.

On the other hand, Alicent needs you. She needs to feel you, she needs to taste you, she needs to love you… So she deepens the kiss and squeezes your hips. You break the kiss, but not the distance. As you two look at each other, Alicent’s hands move up from your hips to your back. She wastes no time in starting to undo them with practiced ease. “Alicent—” She finishes unlacing your dress, making it loose on you. “Shhh my dear… We will be fine…” The older woman utters before kneeling on the soft grass and extending her hand to you, a silent invitation.

As soon as you kneel, her hands are on you again, taking off your dress. You gently grab her face and pull her in for a hungry kiss, which makes her moan in your mouth.

The princess’ hands are tangled in the Hightowers' hair, pulling her as close as possible, trying to become one with the woman that she loves oh so dearly.

As soon as your dress is out of the way, and you are only covered by your undergarments, Alicent’s mouth shifts to your collarbone, peppering kisses as she works on removing your undergarments. She was like a woman starved. She needs you, and you need her just as much. When your undergarments are not an obstacle anymore, her mouth reaches your breasts. She kisses the soft flesh with a mix of love and hurry, making your throat release sweet gasps and making your back arch.

Oh Gods, the sounds… They only fueled Alicent’s want more and more, and it did not help that your fingers had started to unlace her dress, making it each second more and more loose.

You needed that damned dress off of her, you needed to take it off of her just as she had taken yours off of you. You needed to feel her bare body against yours. You needed her in the way you have never needed anything else… In fact, you are sure that nobody else has ever experienced this kind of need and want.

Alicent continues worshipping your breasts as if they were deities themselves. Her tongue licks your nipple while her hand massages the other, and the moans that come out of your mouth are inevitable.

You finally manage to take the dress off of her, leaving her only in her undergarments… But still, that was more clothing that you wanted her in. “I think it is a little unfair that you have those on while I am almost completely bare, do you not think so?”

The older woman sits up a little bit, stopping her ministrations on your breasts. “You are right, princess… It is not at all fair” Right after she says those words, she removes the upper part of her undergarments, leaving her chest exposed to you. Your mouth finds itself immediately in her breasts… kissing, biting, licking…

A sweet moan falls from her lips , causing you to softly moan in return.

Alicent gently pushes you to lay on the grass, but not before putting your dress as a blanket for you to lay on, causing you to smile at her caring act. “I love you so much… I did not think it was possible to love this much…” You whisper to her, and those may be the truest words you have ever said.

“I love you too. More than anything” She lays down next to you, and instantly kisses you again while she runs her hands through your body. “You are all I need, and there is no such thing as something that I would not do for you, my sweetest girl”

Alicent’s hand reaches your hips and as soon as she grabs the hem of the bottom part of your undergarments, she slides them down your legs.

“We should go to my chambers… or yours, anyone could see us here—” Your words are stopped when two of her digits rub your clit in the way only she could “Oh Gods…!”

Any thought of getting caught had suddenly vanished from your mind, and instead, it was replaced by pleasure and Alicent’s name.

“No one will see us, my darling” She moves her fingers faster, while her other hand caresses your hair “It is the hour of the owl…” She stops her movements so she can position herself between your legs “And everyone knows that this pacific garden is yours, my love, no one will come, do not worry in vain” She reassures you once she is kneeled in between your legs.

The only response you could give to her was a weak nod, but that quickly changed once her tongue made contact with your core, making you moan her name.

Your hands made their way to Alicent’s hair, tangling themselves between the strands. The only thoughts you had were of Alicent, nothing more, nothing less.

One of Alicent’s hands grips one of your thighs, while the other one travels up and towards your chest.

The Dowager Queen was lost on you. On your taste, on how you feel, on how you sound… This is everything she could ever want.

“Alicent…!” You moan loudly as your back arches, involuntarily searching for more. “Alicent I’m close…!”

The older woman's hand reaches for your own, stopping her movements on your breast , and instead intertwines her fingers with yours.

“Go ahead, my darling” Alicent says without moving away from your clit, softly moaning at the taste.

Your grip on your love’s hair tightens, and your eyes roll back. It felt as if you were on fire, and you never wanted it to end… You moan and gasp Alicent’s name as you reach your climax, your hips bucking up towards your lover’s mouth to ride the last waves of pleasure.

Alicent crawls up and lays next to you… Her hand gently caresses your body as she places a sweet kiss on your lips, when she pulls away she takes her time to admire you… spent, panting, and underneath the moonlight.

“...Run away with me…”

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delulujuls · 7 months ago

Text

saudade | as12

funny how you can miss someone you never met, right? my heart was aching today a lot and i cried even more while writing this so yes, it is long and it is sad, so you decide if you wanna read this or not. if you do, please enjoy if its even possible to enjoy bawling your eyes out lol

oh ayrton, you will always be missed

summary: during senna's funeral y/n has flashes of their shared past and what they could have together

warnings: for sure its intense, 5.6k words of pure sadness, thats it basically

pairing: fem!mclaren!driver x ayrton senna

It was a warm, pleasant day. The beginning of may didn't disappoint with the weather at all. A light, warm breeze swayed the flexible branches, on which fresh leaves were green. The sun was pleasantly warm, but it wasn't unbearable heat. Birdsong could be heard, but so could crying. On this day, mourners outnumbered the blossoming buds on the trees.

A crowd of people had gathered in front of the church, but it was nothing compared to the crowds still on their way. Everyone was dressed in black, and the only point of color in the black mass was a yellow dot, which from a bird's eye view resembled a sunflower petal, thrown onto the black, fertile soil. It was a helmet, a yellow racing helmet, which no one gathered there needed to be introduced to. In trembling hands, a young girl held it, never once moving it away from her chest. She held it against herself so tightly, as if she wanted to feel the warmth emanating from it, but it radiated coldness, like the inside of the church she was about to enter, barely able to keep herself on her feet.

Inside the chapel, it hadn't yet become crowded; the military made sure that the family and friends entered the church first. Inside, there was a grave silence, broken only by the occasional blowing of noses into tissues or a stifled sob.

The girl was aware of what was happening, she knew where she was and why she was there. However, her brain stubbornly avoided connecting the dots and completely pushed the facts out of her consciousness. If it had, she would probably have thrown the held helmet deep into the church, and it would have stopped only when it hit the wooden, solid coffin. The girl's gaze never once lifted towards her.

"Y/N, can you hear me?," the girl flinched when Ron's words reached her for the umpteenth time, "You know you don't have to be here, we can be outside."

The girl blinked several times, and at that very moment, her brain stopped pushing away the facts. Ron held her arm, his eyes swollen, his face even redder than usual. She herself pressed the helmet to her chest, so tightly that only when she moved it away from herself a little was she able to fully breathe. She raised her eyes and looked around. She stood in the front row of benches, where at the very top, just in front of the altar steps, stood the coffin. A large, carefully ironed Brazilian flag lay on it, its freely hanging ends touching the fresh flowers lying beneath it.

"Y/N…," the man began again, this time quieter. He saw tears in the girl's eyes, and he was about to continue, but she pressed the helmet tighter to her chest and started walking forward. She only moved the helmet away from herself when she placed it on the coffin. Y/N fell to her knees and began to sob, pressing her forehead against the hard lid. However, the lid of the coffin wasn't the only thing that separated her from her friend. The worst was death.

It was a brisk february morning. Silverstone Circuit had not yet woken up, there was no deafening roar of engines in the background, and the smell of burnt rubber didn't hang in the air.

Although it wasn't a race day and only a handful of people were milling around the facility, unlike the tens of thousands who usually flooded in for the weekend races, this day was expected to be exciting and full of emotions too.

Certainly, it was so for the 23-year-old Theodore Racing driver, who, sitting in the passenger seat on her way to the circuit, nervously picked at her nails. However, she should now be referred to as the "former Theodore Racing driver" because on this day, she had a test day at McLaren, with whom she signed a contract two weeks ago. In the past two months, the girl's life had changed dramatically. A few days after her birthday, she became the European Formula 3 World Champion, winning the title by just one point. One! The fact that she was so young and the only woman to rise so high meant that many people had their eyes on her and followed her every move. However, most people who hadn't seen her driving at over 200 kilometers per hour thought that being a woman automatically disqualified her from the sport. Ron Dennis, the head of McLaren, was familiar with her skills, though, and seeing how well she performed in the lower levels, he decided to take a risk and give her a chance. One of his proteges, however, wasn't so sure about this decision.

"Girl? You want to replace Prost with a girl?"

Senna, upon hearing the candidate to replace Alain, who, after five years of dealing with him, decided to quit and move away from McLaren, only shook his head.

"Yes, that's exactly what I plan to do," Ron lit a cigarette and shifted his gaze from the car to the disgusted face of the Brazilian, "Maybe she'll calm you down a bit. It's a miracle I found anyone to take Prost's place, no one wants to work with you!"

Ayrton snorted and shook his head again, unable to believe that his boss wanted to do something so idiotic. Silence fell in the garage, none of the mechanics intended to interrupt their conversation. Just like everyone else in the team agreed with Ron that it was a miracle to find anyone willing to take Prost's place, the same majority couldn't imagine a woman starting to race in Formula 1. Especially alongside a driver like Senna.

"A few races, and she'll quit on her own," the Brazilian muttered, "You'll see."

"Pray that she likes you and wants to race for us."

When the car stopped in the gravel parking lot, the girl got out and put on her sunglasses. Tom, her manager and a close friend of her father, just glanced at her and rubbed her back. He knew perfectly well how stressed she was. No one would be prepared for so much in such a short time.

"Everything will be fine."

"You don't have to say that."

He sighed and just pointed with his hand towards the entrance to the facility, letting her through the glass doors. He didn't convince himself too much. Shortly after, after receiving the appropriate instructions, they reached the paddock. Here, the sun didn't glare in her eyes, so the girl took off her glasses, looking around. An empty Silverstone was something unheard of.

"Good morning, welcome, good to see you,"

Ron, standing in front of the garage, as soon as he noticed the girl, broke off from the conversation with one of the mechanics and smiled at her, shaking her hand. She showed up for the tests, so he thought she deserved a shot. Maybe this would work.

The girl made an effort to smile and nodded at him. Fortunately, she didn't have to engage in a conversation with him because he was immediately engaged by her manager. She was glad that in moments like this, someone else could spare her from meaningless chatter.

"Good morning."

She greeted, approaching the car where a few men were working on the wheels, wing, and cockpit. Some of them spoke up, while the rest just nodded at her. She immediately felt unwelcome, and barely a minute had passed since she appeared in the garage. However, this was nothing new to her, she would lie if she said she was surprised. But the most important thing for her was that Ron treated her as an equal, or at least didn't make her feel like she didn't belong here. That gave her a sense of comfort. She didn't need a crowd standing behind her; she only needed two people who had her back.

The girl slowly walked around the car. The new, ready-for-the-season MP4/4 looked very good. Next to the car marked with her number stood another, practically identical, differing only in the number painted in red on the front.

However, the owner of the car was nowhere to be seen, at least not in sight. Y/N hadn't had the opportunity to meet Ayrton personally. The drivers' presentation with the car was scheduled for the end of the month, so it was quite likely that until then, she would have time to mentally prepare herself. She knew Ayrton from stories; she could watch his battles both on and off the track on television, the domestic war he waged with Alain Prost which ended with the Frenchman's departure to Ferrari.

Y/N knew she would have to face many things, one of which was Senna.

"Ready?"

Ron's voice snapped her out of her thoughts, he held a helmet and jumpsuit for her in his hand. She nodded and took the items from him, going to change. When she returned, she took her place in the cockpit, and after some time, when everything was ready, she followed the instructions and took her place on the track. She took a deep breath and clenched her hands on the steering wheel, staring at the start lights. When they went out, the girl sped off with squealing tires and the roar of the engine.

Ron and Tom stood next to each other, watching her movements on small monitors. After some time, the mechanics also began to glance at the monitors, seemingly more interested in whether she hadn't crashed yet than in her results. What surprised them was the sight on one of the displays showing her current lap time, which now stood at 1.38.412 seconds. Ron smiled and shook his head in amazement. The young girl was incredible.

The car itself wasn't handling badly. Besides feeling like a huge boat, to which she was definitely too small, it was actually a well-engineered machine. A few more laps, and she should be able to tame it completely. Although this fact was reassuring. When the girl spotted the checkered flag, she obediently pulled into the garage. She turned off the engine and unfastened her seatbelts, but she didn't get out of the car or take off her helmet because Ron was already beside her, hugging her tightly.

"Young lady, you flew in that car!" The man helped her out of the car, and she took off her helmet and balaclava, taking out the earplugs. "I told you, you did amazingly. Unbelievable lap time, great driving."

The girl wiped her forehead with the back of her hand and blew a strand of wet hair from her forehead.

"It's a really good car, sir."

"A good car without a good driver is just a good car, and a good car with a great driver is a masterful car," Ron shook her hand again, "Brilliant job."

The girl returned his smile, and when she glanced at Tom standing a few steps away, he was also smiling, his smile was the kind of "I told you so."

Y/N gave appropriate feedback to the mechanics and strategists, who now seemed to pay attention to her significantly more than when she first appeared in the garage that morning. Their faces still tried to remain impassive, but nevertheless, they noted everything she had to say. When it was all over, the girl went to change. She washed her face with cold water and looked at herself in the mirror, clenching her hands on the cold sink. She did it.

When she managed to cool down and calm herself down a bit, clutching her helmet under her arm and holding her jumpsuit in the other hand, shortly after she left the bathroom. Suddenly, she bumped into someone, and that someone turned out to be someone she sincerely didn't want to meet that day.

"Watch where you're going."

Senna muttered, holding a lit cigarette between his lips. He gave her a quick glance and disappeared through the doorway, his jumpsuit rustling as he walked away.

The girl squeezed her helmet tighter under her arm and returned to the garage, putting things back in place. After receiving the last praise and handshake from Ron, she said goodbye and left the paddock with Tom. Ayrton pretended to be too busy preparing for the start, so he didn't honor her with even a single glance. When he heard Ron praising her driving, he only snorted under his breath and shook his head. When the garage fell silent again, Ayrton took his place in the car, getting ready to drive.

"1.38.412"

Senna looked up when Ron spoke above his head.

"1.38.412," he repeated calmly, "The lap time of a twenty-three-year-old after her first drive in a Formula 1 car."

The Brazilian snorted and lowered his gaze, putting earplugs in his ears.

"I hope you'll be better than the girl."

Ayrton didn't hear his words anymore because he put on his balaclava and helmet. He didn't believe the girl had achieved such a lap time. And even if she did, it only spoke of the car's capabilities, not her skills. Senna hoped he would be faster by at least a few seconds. He had been racing in Formula 1 for almost five years; he was incredibly fast, and above all, he was a man!

When the tests ended, and he returned to the garage, satisfied with himself and his driving, the first thing he did was to look for Ron's reaction, wanting to see his expression when he rubbed his nose in it. However, the Brit looked at him indulgently, and Senna, not knowing what he meant, quickly tried to free himself from the seat belts. The Brit simply turned the monitor towards him and pointed with his finger at something that, according to Ayrton, was a big mistake.

Between him and the girl, there was a difference of a few seconds, indeed. But Ayrton was slower.

When Senna freed himself from the car, hastily took off his helmet and balaclava, and removed the earplugs, he was about to say something when Ron stopped him, pressing a cassette to his chest.

"Here, watch it tonight and see how the twenty-three-year-old beat you."

Ayrton squeezed the cassette in his hand and only watched him leave, unable to utter a word. It was some kind of absurdity!

Absurd or not, Senna spent the evening in front of the TV. He sat on the couch, leaning forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He frowned and carefully watched the recording from the camera placed in her cockpit. He saw how she aggressively entered corners, braking as late as possible, and how quickly she stepped on the gas when the centrifugal forces stopped working. He took a drag and blew smoke from his mouth, rewinding the tape from the beginning, just as it ended. The recording lasted twenty minutes, and he watched it for the seventh time, counting each lap on his stopwatch. Every time, the result was the same.

He couldn't wrap his head around what she had done, but he decided to consider it just a stroke of luck. She had a better day; he had a slightly worse one. Moreover, it wasn't the testing session or even the qualifying rounds that determined the winner, but the race itself. Driving on an empty track without rivals wanting to take your position was one thing, but racing in a competition where everyone wanted to beat you was a completely different matter. If someone had told Ayrton then that four years later, that girl would shed tears at his funeral, he would have told them to fuck themselves.

Y/N felt a strong arm around her waist, trying to lift her. Ron's heart broke seeing her in such a state. However, he couldn't help her even if he wanted to.

"Y/N, please…," he began, but she shook her head, overcome with tears. Wet stains of tears were visible on the flag covering the coffin. The girl was trembling all over, it was a miracle she could breathe. Since the accident, it seemed like Y/N was handling the tragedy very well, just being sad and quiet. No one had any idea what was yet to come. Everyone who saw Y/N by the coffin, this sight of a broken girl, felt nothing but sympathy. The bond she had formed with Ayrton seemed stronger and much richer in emotions than any he had with any of his partners. Ayrton wasn't just her teammate, he wasn't just a friend or sometimes her biggest enemy. From the very beginning, Y/N mattered to him, and if he said otherwise, he was simply lying.

The official skills assessment test for the girl was scheduled to take place less than three weeks after her first visit to the McLaren garage. Now, however, an official presentation awaited her at the reception hosted by the team. One evening at the company headquarters, a banquet was held, attended by far more people than initially anticipated. Most of them were journalists who had to announce to the world the phenomenon that was a woman at the top level of motor racing.

"It's more crowded here than I thought," the girl admitted when she entered the team headquarters with Tom by her side.

"Everyone is curious about you. There are even a couple of journalists from Australia, believe it or not," Tom said.

She looked at him in shock. "And they flew here specifically for this presentation?"

He smiled and nodded. "They'll be talking to kangaroos and kiwi birds about you," he joked, trying to lighten the mood. And it worked because she giggled at his words. However, her smile faded when she noticed Ron talking to Ayrton and two other men in suits.

"Everything will be fine. You did well on the tests, so you'll do well here too," he said softly, rubbing her arm when he noticed her expression.

"There weren't any sharks in suits and piranhas with cameras there," Tom was about to add some words of encouragement when Ron spotted them and raised his hand with a glass in it, trying to get their attention. They approached him, and he greeted them, introducing them to the directors. Ayrton, standing aside, was mindful of how many people were now watching him and wondering if his new teammate would share Prost's fate. However, the Brazilian had no intention of making an effort for gestures he didn't intend. Nevertheless, courtesy demanded it, so he extended his hand, which she hesitantly shook.

"Senna," he said, his Brazilian accent strongly evident in his last name. "Welcome to the team."

The girl introduced herself as well, but it was hard for her to maintain eye contact. Not because he was almost half a head taller, but because of the confidence emanating from him. It was his team, his place, and his time, and she was just a guest. There was no room for discussion.

Fortunately, the awkward situation was soon interrupted as the drivers and management were invited onstage. Ayrton gestured for the girl to go ahead, and she began to walk in front of him.

"I hope you don't grip the wheel as weakly as you do hands," he murmured behind her, quietly enough so no one else would hear, but loud enough for her to hear his words.

Y/N lowered her gaze, feeling a wave of heat wash over her. Even if she wanted to respond, she couldn't. He caught her completely off guard.

As they stepped onto the small stage, they stood behind one of the cars prepared for this season. The girl intertwined her fingers behind her back and straightened up, standing next to Ayrton. He might play his stupid games on her, but she had no intention of showing that she would easily give in. He glanced at her out of the corner of his eye and almost believed that his comment had gone unnoticed, but her cheeks were flushed. Normally, he would probably snort under his breath, but now he kept his composure.

After a few words from Ron and the board members, the floor was given to the drivers. The two of them remained on stage, each with a microphone in hand. Now it was time for the media, for their pressing questions and burning issues.

Ayrton sat relaxed, almost bored. His legs were bent at the knees, slightly apart. One hand was around his waist, resting his elbow on it, holding the microphone in the other hand. He answered questions briefly and to the point, not dwelling more than necessary. His attire alone indicated that today's banquet was just a formality; he wore a suit, but instead of a shirt, he had a white T-shirt, and on his feet were sports shoes.

Despite her best efforts not to stress out, Y/N was far from as calm as Ayrton. She sat up straight, one leg crossed over the other. Although her red dress practically touched the floor, she glanced occasionally to make sure nothing was out of place. She felt like every move, even the smallest one, was being watched and analyzed. She felt she wasn't focusing on the content of the questions but on how she appeared.

The girl blinked several times, trying to find a sensible answer to the question that had been directed at her a few seconds ago.

"Could you repeat that?" she asked, feeling a bit embarrassed about her inattention. Ayrton, however, heard the question well.

"I asked if you think you're good enough to compete with men or if you're just here for publicity? Racing is still a male-dominated sport, and it seems like you're just trying to prove something rather than compete," the man in glasses squeezed the voice recorder in his hand and looked at her expectantly. Seeing her confusion, he sighed, "I see you're not too bright, so let me ask directly - do you really think you belong here? Do you have what it takes to keep up with the boys on the track?"

The girl panicked a little; this question completely threw her off guard. Emotions overwhelmed her, and she couldn't utter a word. But there was someone who could speak and had an exceptionally sharp tongue.

"I see that, Mr. - again, for whom are you writing?" Ayrton spoke up, furrowing his brows.

"John Ruffleck, Guardian."

"Ah, of course, the Guardian," the man clicked his tongue indulgently. "Clearly, you are the one that didn't shine with intelligence, asking last year's Formula 3 world champion if she fits in here." Y/N was shocked to hear that Ayrton stood up for her. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye. Despite still sitting calmly, the Brazilian was ready for a verbal battle. "If I fit in here, then the 23-year-old who set a better lap time than me during the tests also fits."

Ayrton bluntly silenced the journalist, who merely muttered a quiet "Thank you" and lowered his head.

Several more questions were thrown in by Ayrton, steering the conversation away from sexist undertones. By the end of the conference, there were no more questions about sexist issues. The drivers got up from their seats, and Y/N turned off her microphone, placing it on the sound table as Senna did the same.

"Thank you," she said, looking at him. He also looked at her, but this time his expression didn't express annoyance or boredom, as it did two times before when their eyes met.

"Don't thank me," he said, taking two glasses of champagne from the waitress. "You are allow to drink, right?" he asked before handing her one of them. She nodded and took the glass from him. "Don't thank me, just learn to counter such nonsense. If they're rude, we can be rude too."

Y/N took a big sip of champagne. Her mouth was dry from nerves.

"I don't want to be rude, it's not proper," she said.

"Not proper?" Senna scoffed. "Because you're a girl?"

"Because they'll think poorly of me"

"Do you really care what that bunch of idiots thinks?"

The girl lowered her gaze. Ayrton was right.

Did she really care? She was a driver; she was supposed to deliver good results. She wasn't supposed to please the audience.

She was about to reply when Ron approached them, cursing the Guardian journalist's stupidity. He was so caught up that he didn't even notice Ayrton sending the girl a final glance and then finishing his champagne, taking out cigarettes from his back pocket, and walking away towards the exit. Y/N only watched him go. At that moment, neither of them had any idea how much she would learn from Ayrton, or that he would gladly take on the role of a teacher himself. No one would have even thought of it then.

When Ron managed to lift the shaken girl, she reached for her helmet again and pressed it to her chest. When she looked up, across from her, on the other side of the coffin, she saw a man in a wheelchair. Frank Williams looked at her in silence, but his gaze was apologetic, his face sad, and his eyes looked like he hadn't slept for days.

"Why?" Y/N whispered, but she wasn't sure if anything managed to leave her lips. Williams didn't need to hear her; her eyes said it all. Even if he couldn't hear her question or look into her swollen, tear-filled eyes, he would know perfectly well that she blamed him for his death. "Why, Frank? Why?" Maybe even more than she blamed God.

"If you can hold on to me for longer than five seconds, I'll let you pass," Ayrton said, exhaling smoke. He sat on one of the crates outside McLaren's garage, wearing sunglasses. The weather for the upcoming race looked exceptionally good, but Senna wouldn't mind rain.

"Are you challenging me?" the girl asked, squinting and looking at him against the light. They were sitting outside, where it was quieter, as the mechanics worked inside the garage.

"Why would I?" the man chuckled, taking another drag. Seeing her uncertainty, he offered her a cigarette, trying to reassure her with his gesture.

Y/N took the cigarette and inhaled the smoke, which tickled her throat, making her cough. She wrinkled her nose and after a moment handed him back the cigarette.

"Don't you want to test my braking skills and eliminate me from the race?"

Ayrton laughed and shook his head. "So, I do have a bad reputation after all."

"Definitely not the best," the girl said softly, smiling uncertainly. Ayrton playfully nudged the crate she was sitting on with his foot. He genuinely liked this girl; in fact, he could and wanted to work with her. Now he was even willing to let her win the race if she showed that she could keep up with him. She had demonstrated many times that she could drive at an exceptionally high level, so Senna was willing to show some humanity and let her achieve her first victory, especially on home turf. He stubbed out the cigarette and stood up, taking off his cap and placing it on her head, pulling it down over her eyes.

"Five seconds," he repeated, walking away as she adjusted the cap on her head.

The girl decided to take up the challenge, realizing that such an opportunity might never come again. Ayrton and collaboration? They were complete opposites after all. Y/N, who started the next day from the last place on the podium, managed to fight her way up to second place at the beginning of the race. She spent the next forty laps chasing after Ayrton, wondering if there was any point in chasing him if she couldn't overtake him. Seeing his familiar helmet in the side mirror, Ayrton smiled. He added a bit more throttle and began counting to five, but the girl's car didn't seem to be falling back. When the agreed time was up, much to everyone's disbelief, both on the track and in front of the TVs, Senna slowed down and obediently let her pass. Unable to believe her own eyes, the girl pressed the gas and took the lead, crossing the finish line with him.

She only believed in her victory when Ayrton offered her his hand and helped her onto the podium.

"Five seconds," he said, smiling at her.

"Five seconds," she replied, returning the smile.

How much she would give to see Ayrton again, even for five seconds. To be able to hug him for five seconds, see his smile. Five seconds now would last like an eternity, for which she would pay any price.

The church was filled with people, mostly family and friends, individuals directly connected to Ayrton. The remaining people were outside, surrounding the church, also gathering along the main road. There were talks of crowds, thousands who came to bid farewell to their hero. They too would give much to see Ayrton even for five seconds. Whole, alive, before the Imola accident.

Y/N held the helmet on her knees, looking at it with vacant eyes. She ran her fingers along the edges, tracing the stickers and sponsor names. She squeezed the soft padding inside. She closed her eyelids. Five seconds.

"Necessity is the mother of invention," Ayrton said, loud enough to make the girl jump. She was barefoot, wearing shorts and a bikini top, with his helmet on her head, visor down. She waved a piece of cardboard towards the grill, trying to ignite it better and not wanting the smoke to get in her eyes, deciding to use whatever she had at hand. And hoping Ayrton wouldn't get mad that she used his helmet for this.

The man smiled and shook his head, placing the wood he held in his hands next to the grill. Standing next to the girl, he lifted the visor and looked into her eyes. She looked at him apologetically.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"It suits you," Senna interrupted, smiling. "Possibly even more than me."

"Do you think so?"

The man nodded. His hair, damp from swimming in the lake, fell onto his forehead, and his brown eyes sparkled. Ayrton had been looking at Y/N like this for some time, in a way that many would describe as tender. Certainly, the girl wasn't just a teammate to him, as who would invite a teammate to their hometown to meet their closest family. Certainly not Ayrton.

"I love you, Y/N,"

He confessed as he lay on the jetty, gazing at the starry sky, where there was no trace of the hot Brazilian sun anymore.

The girl laughed and took a sip of beer, lying next to him and leaning on his arm. Both were drunk, so she was sure Ayrton was joking. However, when his confession was met with silence and he turned to look at her, his face was deadly serious.

"I mean it, Y/N. I love you,"

"You can't love me, you have a girlfriend," she replied, still laughing. There was no way he was serious.

Ayrton got up and without a word, kissed her, wanting to prove his words. When he pulled away after a moment, there was no smile on the girl's face. He was about to say something again, but she touched his cheek and returned the kiss, and he pulled her closer, holding her tightly in his arms. That night, they would find out how much they meant to each other.

Senna meant a lot to the girl, there was no doubt about it. He also meant unimaginable things to all those who took part in the funeral ceremonies, not only in Brazil itself but worldwide. It might have seemed like the world had lost an incredible man, someone who in life had already become a legend. Who would have thought that this living, almost mystical legend was just a man? A man who is mortal. Surely no one looked at Senna that way. Certainly not Frank Williams, who eventually decided to agree and accept Ayrton into his team, bearing an incredible burden now. Senna was supposed to lift his team to great heights, and his tragic death dealt a blow, not so much personal as it was business-related. However, at that moment, that mattered least.

Y/N and Ayrton sat at the kitchen table, eating a late dinner in silence. They were in their shared home in Europe, but for the past few months, the walls of the house seemed to be becoming more alien with each passing day. The atmosphere was as thick as it is now, when none of the people sitting at the table even bothered to steal a glance.

"Why didn't you tell me you wanted to go to Williams?"

The girl asked, stirring the contents of her plate with her fork. Ayrton tightened his grip on the glass and took a few sips from it.

"Ayrton-", "Why did I have to tell you?" he entered her words and looked at her, "Just to make you try to stop me?

Y/N blinked several times. She was shocked. She had the impression that the man sitting opposite was a complete stranger and someone she had never known before.

"To stop you? I'm your girlfriend, I should be the first to know about your plans, not hear from strangers."

"Did it change anything? Did something happen that you didn't find out from me?"

"Yes!" she shouted, slamming her hand on the table. She was so done with all of this. "I'm fed up with you treating me like an enemy for several weeks!"

"Don't you dare raise your voice at me!" he stood up, leaning over and pointing his finger at her. "You have no idea how much I had to do to get that offer, how much it cost me!"

"I have no idea, because you don't tell me anything!" she also stood up, pushing his hand away, which he was aiming at her face, "Fame has gone to your head, you're acting like a complete idi-" She didn't get to finish because Ayrton slapped her across the face. He didn't realize when his open hand met her cheek. Y/N grabbed her cheek and looked at him in shock. At the moment of the strike, he also seemed to snap out of it, as if he had been hit himself.

"Y/N, I'm sorry," he said calmly, trying to approach her, but she backed away a few steps, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to do that."

"But you did," she said with a trembling voice, tears welling up in her eyes, "I don't recognize you anymore, Ayrton".

As the funeral rites began, the last thing on Y/N's mind was their recent arguments, of which there had been plenty lately. Nonetheless, since the incident when he raised his hand to her, Senna understood he had crossed a line. The only upside of the whole situation was that they had started talking again, and Ayrton had come to realize that Y/N was not his enemy. Yes, on the track, the girl might be someone he now had to defeat even more than usual, but she was still his friend, his girlfriend, his partner. Speaking of partners, many women appeared at the funeral, but four of them spent exceptionally long periods by the coffin. They had a lot in common, yet none of them deigned to exchange glances. Each of Ayrton's partners, even today, on such a dramatic day, looked at her as if she were an enemy. Viviane made sure none of them sat on the bench where the family was seated. Y/N belonged to the family. She didn't intrude, Ayrton invited her himself.

"Maybe you should take a break?" Sid Watkins persistently tried to persuade Ayrton and Y/N to withdraw from the upcoming race. "Two weeks, you'll come back to Monaco in better shape, with lighter minds."

Senna sat on one of the crates behind the Williams garage, elbows resting on his knees. Y/N repeatedly wiped her tear-streaked cheeks, trembling hand holding a cigarette. An hour ago, the qualifying session for tomorrow's race was interrupted by Roland Ratzerberger's serious accident. The man was taken to the hospital, but many said he was taken from the track already dead.

"This shouldn't have happened, there shouldn't have been talk of such an accident," the girl repeated, almost hysterical. She was in tremendous shock, having witnessed the accident herself as she was the one who followed Ratzerberger's car.

"They need to cancel the race," Senna said dryly, his gaze fixed on a point in front of him. "We can't race here, not after something like this."

"And if they don't cancel?" Sid looked from Ayrton to Y/N. "Will you race in such a state? You won't sleep over this until tomorrow."

"If they don't cancel, we'll race for him. I'll drive the best I can to honor him with a victory," Ayrton decided, raising his gaze and looking the doctor in the eyes.

"You like fishing, right? Why don't you go back to Brazil, catch some fish, relax. If you want, I'll come with you, I could use it too."

Senna rubbed his face with his hands, intertwining his fingers and pressing them against his lips. Again, he fell silent. He knew they couldn't not race; he certainly couldn't afford to tell Frank after months of effort that he wouldn't start tomorrow. He couldn't do that.

"I don't want to race," Y/N admitted, shaking her head, tears streaming down her cheeks. "Ayrton, he, Roland-" the man rose without a word and hugged her tightly. He enveloped her in a strong embrace, stroking her hair. Watkins saw that Senna was thinking intensely. And no matter what he said or did to convince him to skip the race, he would do it his own way.

"Think about it, Ayrton. Just think about it," he said one last time. Senna looked him in the eyes and nodded in silence.

Late in the afternoon, Ayrton and Y/N returned to the hotel. They didn't talk much; Y/N occasionally wiped her eyes with a tissue. Ayrton held her hand a lot. When they lay in bed, Senna laid on her stomach, wrapping his arm around her waist. The girl began to run her fingers through his damp hair.

"I don't want to start tomorrow, Y/N," he said softly. He was facing away from her, she couldn't see that he was crying too. "I have a bad feeling."

"You know nobody can force you to do it," she said calmly, her other hand stroking his cheek. "Maybe Watkins is right? Let's fly to your parents, spend time with the kids. It's been two months since you've seen them."

"I can't," he said, wiping his face with his hand. "I can't, nobody needs a driver who doesn't race."

"Ayrton—" "Just hold me," he interrupted, sitting up. The girl obeyed his command, sitting between his legs and hugging him tightly. Both were silent; Y/N tenderly stroked his head and tense back.

"This will be my last season," he said, not moving an inch from her. "I've done enough; I don't need more. I want to focus on something else, on more important things."

"On what, my love?" she asked gently, still stroking his hair.

"I want to be a dad,"

Senna surprised her with this confession. The girl smiled.

"Would you like to have a son or a daughter?"

"A daughter, oh, how I'd love a daughter," he said, pulling away to look at her face. "Would you like to have a child with me? And become my wife?"

Y/N smiled and nodded. "You know I would."

Ayrton returned her smile and cupped her face in his hands, kissing her deeply.

"Te amo, querido,"

"I love you too, Ayrton. And i will always do."

"And i will always do," Y/N said qiuetly, watching as the coffin slowly descends into the ground. Nothing can destroy such love, certainly not death.

#f1 imagines #f1 #f1 one shot #formula 1 #f1 oneshots #f1 imagine #ayrton senna #ayrton senna x reader #ayrton senna x you #as12 #classic f1

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blainesebastian · 1 month ago

Text

unexpected (ccg universe)

words: 3,865 ship: austin butler x female reader rating: PG summary: i have gotten so many second baby pregnancy requests from anons that i can't even post them all lol but convos with @stylespresleyhearted finally pushed me over the edge 🤧 notes: ccg universe masterlist here, regular masterlist here

Here’s the thing—maybe at this point in your life, you should just assume that things aren’t going to happen as you expect they will.

Nothing wrong with that, right?

You didn’t expect to work on a movie set with Austin Butler. You didn’t expect to fall in love with him, that he’d love you in return. You didn’t expect to date, get married, or have a baby.

And you certainly didn’t expect to get pregnant for the second time.

Yet here you are.

Finding out you’re pregnant again is an absolute blur. For starters, you take three different (yes, three) tests to make sure. It wasn’t something you both were planning, but things happen, and there wasn’t any use in bringing it up to Austin until you were one hundred percent sure. Well—three tests later, two blue lines, one plus and one PREGNANT later…

You sit on the tests for about a day, unsure when and what to tell your husband. Which is…so silly because it’s not like you’re not happy? You’re just scared. You think you know how he’s going to react, but then again, things are crazy with Luci running around in her terrible twos and both of your schedules filled with films and meetings and outings.

Is there time for another baby?

You and Austin are making breakfast with Luci when you finally decide to just tell him. You hold onto your breath so long that you start to feel dizzy before passing him one of the tests when he asks for a fork.

His long fingers wrap around the test and he kinda blinks before his head snaps to you.

“Really?” He asks.

Your eyes fill with tears before you quickly nod, “Yeah,” You reply breathlessly, “Yeah.” You swallow, curling your hair around your ear, “I know it’s not something we really talked about but…if…if you’re happy—”

“Happy?” Austin interrupts, setting the test on the counter. He shakes his head, voice gruff with emotion. He knows you, knows you far too well. “Of course I’m happy,” He quickly moves to where you’re standing, cupping your face with both hands. “I couldn’t be happier.”

That seems to crack open a dam inside of you and you laugh, the sound coming out wet as your hands wrap around his wrists, “Really?”

He grins, nodding, leaning down to press his lips to yours. “Really.” He says against them before slipping to the floor. He kneels in front of you, hugging you around your middle, pressing a few kisses that are way too ticklish to your belly.

Luci has no idea what’s going on other than she wanders over with her stuffed dino, sees her father kneeling on the floor, and then proceeds to make her dino kiss your leg.

“Kisses.”

Austin laughs softly, running a hand through his hair as he pulls back. He moves to scoop your daughter up, standing up off the floor.

“Can we give mama a kiss?” He asks her, leaning her forward until Luci plants a big kiss to your cheek.

Letting out a soft sound, you move to thread your fingers through one of Luci’s haphazard ponytails, “What do you think about havin’ a brother or sister, Luc?”

There’s a long moment, you’re not sure if she completely understands what you’re talking about. But then— “No thank you.” Honestly, you have no idea why you expected any other answer.

You and Austin can’t help but grin.

Turns out, ‘unexpected’ seems to be the theme for this entire pregnancy.

Something that you and Austin decided right away was that this pregnancy was going to be a bit different in terms of spotlight. Obviously family members and really close friends would get to know, but everything else? That’s last on the list. Neither of you have any regrets when it came to Luci, how public it all was. But keeping this more private this time around feels like a good change of pace, not to mention it’ll be a lot less stressful for you and the baby.

It seems to be exactly what you need, because—

“What are you saying?” You ask your doctor, your grip on Austin’s hand tight and unnerved.

The doctor draws in a soft breath, flipping through your chart, “It’s just something we want to keep an eye on,” He says gently, too gentle. Your hormones are already out of whack and you can’t handle someone babying you.

“You said I was high-risk.” Your voice takes on a grating edge you don’t recognize and Austin attempts to soothe you by drawing his thumb back and forth on your knuckles.

“I said the pregnancy was high-risk.” The doctor looks at you both, “It can happen sometimes with second times around. Not to mention that your stress levels tend to be a bit elevated in general.”

You bite down on the inside of your cheek. You know you’ve always had a bit of anxiety, usually when it came to making big decisions in your life—career paths, family moves, relationships, those sorts of things. Creating a space for yourself knee-deep in the film industry didn’t help that, either, but you’ve never had any regrets.

Not until this shadow of a doubt within this very moment.

“It’s just something to keep an eye on.” The doctor repeats, as if that’s helping anything.

Austin seems to sense that you’re about to have Luci-level tantrum with your doctor so he clears his throat and nods, “Thanks doc, we’ll be in touch.”

He nods, setting your chart down in the wall slot before heading out of the exam room, closing the door behind him.

You let out a long sigh, running both hands over your face, grateful that Jillian has Luci for the afternoon so you could go to this appointment without a two-year-old unleashing her antics in whatever room you’re in. Love her to death but there’s no way you’d be able to emotionally handle that, you’re barely keeping it together right now.

Scratch that—your lower lip wobbles as your eyes meet Austin’s.

“Oh babe,” Austin says softly, standing so that he can slip between your legs while you’re sitting on the exam table, “Don’t.” He cups your cheek, running his thumb along the bone.

“I can’t help it,” You reply, wanting to pull away from him, but he won’t let you. “I feel like this is my fault.”

“You can’t think like that,” Austin leans down and presses his lips along your forehead, “The important thing is that we know about it and we can plan for it.” He pulls away just enough to look down at your eyes, a small smile tugging the corners of his mouth.

“We wanted you further out of the spotlight with this one anyways, you know? This’ll work out.” His voice is soothing in a way you can’t describe, like it slips along your body like silk, pulling you close, hugging you.

You nod softly, your eyes closing as he cups your cheek again, his other arm wrapping around your frame.

“We’ll figure this out.” Austin promises, “Alright? You’re gonna be okay—the both of you.”

And maybe that’s what you really need to hear. You nod again, leaning forward to slide your arms around his waist, molding yourself to his chest. You face finds the familiar crook of his shoulder, breathing in his scent, something cologne and purely him.

You’re so unsure about everything, and yet within those few moments, you believe him and nothing else.

It’s frustrating but unfortunately necessary and you don’t fight it, even when you eventually (Austin pushes) talk to your agent about everything that’s going on. You feel like it’s bad luck to bring up a pregnancy to someone who isn’t family so early, but you need that open line of communication. You have to put some projects on hold—not everything, not yet. But some.

The more time that passes and the more pregnant you become, you begin to slowly slip out of the public eye. It’s a slow drip, but it increasingly becomes more noticeable with ridiculous social media headlines and TikTok theories.

You try not to dive head first into any of them (even though some are entertaining). The gossip and drama is that you and Austin are separated, getting divorced, that you haven’t been seen together out and about in a ‘really long time’, so naturally this is what’s happening.

“Did you hear?” You ask him one afternoon when he comes home with groceries. You smile at him from where you’re sprawled out over the couch, “I’m ‘taking you for all your worth’.”

Austin snorts an amused sound, toeing off his shoes. He wanders over to the couch and lets out a long sigh, gently laying himself down so that he slips between your legs. Your bump doesn’t allow him to rest fully against you, but that doesn’t seem to bother him. He presses a few kisses to the swell, hand slipping to your side and fingers massaging a bit of your lower back. Honestly, bless him.

“You can have it all.” He teases.

The pitter-patter of tell-tale feet run down the hallway from one of the bedrooms, “Daaadddeeee.” Luci exclaims, rounding the couch covered in—

“Is that paint?” You ask, raising an eyebrow.

She at least has a little bit of decency to look impish but her wide smile hasn’t left her father. You shake your head, running your fingers through Austin’s hair. He reaches an arm out and circles it around Luci, tugging her closer. She giggles instantly as he plants a kiss to where there isn’t paint, but honestly, there’s not many options.

“You paintin’ masterpieces in there, Picasso?”

“She’s gonna have to if we’re getting divorced.” You laugh, “My ‘high-priced’ lawyer will need paid.”

Austin rolls his eyes, tilting his head back to look at you, “Please stop readin’ that crap.”

You smile, trailing your fingers down the long lines of his jaw. You brush your thumb over a spackle of freckles under his one eye—beauty marks that you love. “It doesn’t bother me. It’s funnier than anything else. Besides, the fans are loyal and have a different theory. One that is more correct.”

A soft sigh leaves your husband’s nose. He doesn’t seem to be thrilled that you’re diving into those threads either but isn’t about to say anything about it. You get it, he’s protective, you’ve been burned and hurt by tabloids, quick media and nasty fan comments before. But…regardless that this second pregnancy is more delicate than the last, despite the fact that your feet hurt, you’re starting to feel uncomfortable all the time and your back is sore…you’re happy.

You’re really happy.

It doesn’t matter what anyone says, you know the truth.

Austin pulls away from you on the couch, much to your dismay, and scoops up your daughter. He leans down and presses a kiss to your forehead,

“I’m gonna give the gremlin a bath—”

“With bubbles!” Luci declares and Austin smirks.

“With bubbles,” He agrees, “And then I’m gonna give you a back rub.”

You groan softly because that sounds amazing, you can’t wait. “Did I mention the whole divorce thing is off, you’re the best husband a girl could ask for.”

Austin rolls his eyes again but at least he’s smiling this time as he leans down to kiss you. “Baby you couldn’t get rid of me if you tried.” He says against your lips and presses another kiss to the corner before Luci smudges her fingers on your cheek.

Austin playfully taps her butt as he carries her away, “Mommy is not a canvas.”

You smirk, settling further into the couch and closing your eyes, listening to the hum of Austin’s muffled voice and Luci’s excitement as the water starts up in the bathroom. Thanks to your daughter, you now have an idea for the theme for a pregnancy photoshoot.

Second time around…why not, right?

Austin does his best to ignore the paps, he really does, but sometimes they dig under his skin in the worst ways. He's glad that you have been able to be home during this pregnancy, not only because it's a lot more relaxing, but because it's both healthier and less stressful for you and the baby. It's a boy, he's so sure of it. He's just got this feeling deep down in his chest, between his ribs, that you and him are gonna have a son. Time will tell. He holds Luci on his hip as he moves around Whole Foods, intending on getting some stuff to bring home. Your cravings have ranged from the things that make sense (ice cream, cheese) to things that don't (peanut butter on pickles...yeah that's a weird one). He lets out a long sigh, pushing the small cart with one hand as Luci dozes on his shoulder. He presses a kiss to her forehead, tugging Oreos off the shelf to set in the cart. She squiggles a little, letting out a breath and then continues to sleep. It's not a large list, he mostly just gets the essentials. He knows he could have this all delivered to the flat, but sometimes it's nice to get Luci out of there so she doesn't drive her mom crazy. Especially now since you don't move around as swiftly as you used to. He gets everything packed up into one grocery bag, moving to leave and head to the car. Not three minutes out, near the car, a swarm of paps are there. He lets out a long breath through his nose, figuring he should have expected it, given the dramatic stir up that's been happening since you have slowly disappeared from the public eye. And yet they're just as annoying as they've always been. Austin's always considered himself a nice guy, but nothing pisses him off like them snapping out questions about his family. "Austin!" One of them calls. He ignores them, trying to get the car door open to put Luci in her car seat. But of course, that doesn't stop them from asking questions. "Austin, can you tell us what's going on with Y/N?" "How's the divorce going!" "Are you talking about joint custody?" "What about Luci?" Austin feels a snap in his chest, something cold and unrelenting, because at the sound of his daughter's name, she begins to wake up. She's disoriented and confused, her hand coming up to rub one of her eyes. And he knows he shouldn't swear, but the questions feel like pinpricks in his skin, "Fuck off, guys." Luci whines softly and he gently bounces her against his hip. And then the cameras start snapping photos, flashes going off, and she turns her head quickly as Austin gets the door open. The series of movements, of men moving closer with those cameras, of the combined shouts of their voices asking too many questions—she squirms, those whines becoming little hiccups. Austin already knows what's coming as he tries to soothe her but it doesn't work. "Shhh," He whispers when Luci begins to cry, "I know baby, c'mon." He finally gets the door open, getting her in her car seat. He hates that he has to let her go but it's the only way they can get out of the fucking parking lot. He gets her strapped in, giving a look in the direction of the paps and reminds himself he can't go to jail because he decided to accidently run some of them over. He's already had to pay for a camera or two because he cracked them out of hands when they’ve shoved them into your face.

Checking his mirrors (begrudgingly), he pulls out of the spot and makes a turn to drive out, heading right towards home. There’s an underground parking garage that leads up to the loft and lots of security, so he knows it’s safe once the car slips underneath that gate that closes behind them.

He pulls into their designated spot, quickly getting out of the car and moving to open Luci’s door. She’s settled down into sniffles but once she gets her eyes on Austin, the waterworks start up again.

“I know,” He gentles his voice despite the annoyance he still feels, “I know. We got our nap interrupted, that’ll upset anyone.”

Austin reaches for her, hoisting her up into his arms to get her upstairs.

You can tell Austin’s annoyed when he comes in, the tension bracketing his shoulders, the way he carries your daughter into the kitchen to put down the groceries. You tug yourself up off the couch, swaying a moment before placing a hand on your stomach and moving towards where your husband has disappeared.

He’s put Luci down on the counter just long enough to grab a washcloth from a drawer and wet it with warm water, wandering back to carefully clean her face. You frown a little, seeing it tearstained. She’s fussy, pushing away her dad’s hands and that tells you more than enough—especially for Luci who tends to look at Austin like he’s hung the moon.

“What happened?” You ask softly, leaning against the counter.

Austin’s jaw works, “Paps.” Is all he says, all he’s willing to say right now.

You swallow over the lump in your throat, your hand moving back and forth over your belly, “I’m so—”

“No,” He cuts your apology off, firm but with no malice, “If anything this is just a good reminder about why we’re doin’ all of it this way.”

Letting out a breath, you nod—doesn’t mean you have to like it. Austin’s dealt with his fair share of paps before, but you know he gets riled up when it comes to them pushing buttons about you, about family.

You run your hand through Luci’s hair, pulling back to put away the groceries Austin brought home. Once he’s got her face wiped off, she begins asking for Cheerios and he raises his eyebrows,

“Thought you were gonna take a nap.”

Luci shakes her head, “No thank you.”

That seems to break the tension at least as Austin huffs out a light laugh and picks her up, putting her on the floor. “Of course not.”

You smirk, moving to grab her favorite plastic cereal cup and fill it with some dry Cheerios, handing them over.

Luci sprints out of the kitchen and heads down the hall to her bedroom, no doubt about to eat on the floor with her stuffed animals and begin playing with her dolls.

“We’re gonna miss when she was so agreeable.”

A laugh rumbles in Austin’s chest, “She’s already got a stubborn streak from you.”

You giggle so quickly that you nearly have to cover your mouth, “That comment is coming from you?”

Austin rolls his eyes but it’s with so much affection that it warms you up from the inside out. He lets out a long sigh and you can literally spot the moment that the tension disappears from his shoulders, rolls right off his body as he reaches for you to pull you close.

Or at the very least as close as he can with your belly between you both.

“You feeling alright today?” He asks, always checking.

You smile, nodding, “Only a month to go.” Hard to believe. “Think you can handle not punching anyone between now and then?”

Austin smirks and in one easy movement he picks you up to set you on the kitchen counter, his physicality making a heated pulse run down your spine and settle between your legs. Which is where Austin ends up, slipping between them. He brushes a kiss over the bridge of your nose, your cheekbone, and smiles against your lips.

“No promises.” Before kissing you.

You have a baby boy in August, and that is what you name him.

He’s perfect but that is unsurprising.

There are so many versions of Austin that you’ve easily fallen in love with—you once again decide that seeing him as a father is your favorite one.

Part of you wants to stay hidden away as you’ve done the past few months but you know at the end of the day that it’s not compatible with how often you and Austin are in the spotlight. And despite the nasty gossip and headlines you’ve seen circulating about how you and your husband were so obviously separating…it’s nice to see the reversal spin around the moment you post on your Instagram—

coffee.girl: the ratio is finally even in this house, austin is thrilled😉

jillian.mua: love you mama😭 austinbutler: ❤️ buzzfeedceleb: WE KNEW IT elvisfan: omg no way coffeecartgirlfan: Y/N really making news sources look like clowns today, we love to see it

You do, in fact, love to see it.

You swear that pregnancy hormones are still kicked into high gear because literally almost everything with this new baby makes you emotional, even a month later. Luci very passionately decides that the nursery needs to be painted a new color, which you and Austin don’t object to. Your husband chooses a variety of greens, things that range from avocado to seafoam and brings them all home. The ‘allure’ of choice for your daughter even though you and him have already picked the main color.

But Luci holds a few paint strips in front of August as he lays in a baby cushion on the floor that reminds you way too much of an oversized cat bed and shakes them enthusiastically.

“Which one?” She asks him, as if he could formulate a response. As if he doesn’t babble and grab his feet and giggle at his sister.

And that’s what makes you tear up because—Luci loves August, loves talking to him about everything, loves gently touching his hair and cheeks and…you can already tell she’s going to be a great, protective big sister. It’s more than you could have ever asked for.

Austin comes up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist, hooking his chin over your shoulder as he watches the both of them. He smiles, pressing a kiss to your neck.

“Cryin’ over paint swatches now?” He teases.

You playfully elbow him in the side and he can’t help but let out a slight laugh, only pulling away to pick August up and settle him against his chest. He brushes a kiss over his still chubby cheek and Luci moves to hug around his leg.

“What’s the color choice?” He asks her and you move to lift Luci up too, smoothing some of her hair behind her ear.

“This one!” She grins, showing you both the seafoam color.

“Perfect.” You reply and August squeals out a wet giggle, clapping his hands together.

Austin moves to you, wrapping his one arm around your waist to keep you close and the conversation turns into plans about how this room is going to be painted, which shades of green go where. This might be the easiest decision you can make in a life that continues to have so many things that are unexpected.

But you wouldn’t trade that for anything.

#austin butler #austin butler x reader #austin butler x female reader #austin butler fic #elvis 2022 #mccall writes things #ccg

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idkfitememate · 4 months ago

Note

I really like your stories, especially about the Creator otter. It would be great if when the truth is known, they take the Creator otter to the "true creator" and when he tries to hurt the otter, the attack returns on its own or something happens. to prevent him from harming the beautiful otter and so it is known that he is the true creator, I imagine he would have many more pamperings than before

The Otter Chronicles Pt.3

⋘ Previous Part » ♡︎

૮꒰˶ᵔ ᗜ ᵔ˶꒱ა Pairings : GN! Otter Reader x Fontaine

૮꒰ྀི∩´ ᵕ `∩꒱ྀིა W.K. : 2.2k

໒꒰ྀིᵔ ᵕ ᵔ ꒱ྀི১ Tags/CW&TW : Angst, some fluff, many mental breakdowns

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : I. Am. So. Sorry. You have been waiting for months for this but I didn’t know how to continue and then I got writers block and UGH-

But I’m here now :). And your gonna get your wish :3

Future note, this will probably be split up into at least one more chapter because I know for a fact I won’t be able to write all the idea, plus, I have an idea on how to finish it!!~~

As you snoozed peacefully, the quiet seemed to seep into the room, suffocating everyone within it.

“So… the otter sat on your lap… sleeping… that’s the creator?” Finally, Wriothesley broke the silence that had consumed the room, making Furina jump and you chitter under your breath, snuggling into her stomach.

“Do we have any proof?- I mean, besides what happened with the Primordial Sea-“ “Do you need more evidence?” Neuvillette interrupted. His face was stern and cold, hands gripping at his pants.

“Well… it’d be nice to at least know for certain?” Wirothesley sighed out, a hand pressing to his forehead. He leans forward in his seat and took a breath before speaking again. “I mean, genuinely, can’t you see where I’m coming from? Sure, you might trust your gut or whatever magical power you’re keeping from us, but this is a little hard to believe for a guy like me. I mean, who knows! Maybe it was coincidence the Primordial Sea went back into the lock!! Because I’ve personally never seen a creature besides a human jump in there, have you? Maybe it’s all just one big joke I just-“ He stopped, huffing, hands shaking.

“I… we gave our everything… to the Creator. And now I’m finding out it was all a lie? If it’s true, and they really are THE Creator… then I’ve just been lying to myself?? That everything I’ve went through, every trial I’ve faced, every man I’ve stared down as we sent him to his death, every challenged I’ve faced… that i convinced myself that I would get through for them… that it was just a test to prove my worth… my loyalty… would it be for nothing..? I’ve…” The man stood up, chair knocking back behind him as he rose, tears staining his cheeks. Neuvillette also stood, putting a hand in front of Furina. Chlorinde simply sat with hands drawn to her lap.

“I’ve devoted my LIFE to them!! I’ve given my EVERYTHING to THEM!! I thought… I THOUGHT… I THOUGHT THAT THEY WOULD SAVE ME FROM THIS DAMNNATION OF SOULS GRIPPPING TO MY CHEST, CRYING OUT THAT I COULDNT SAVE THEM!! MY SIBLINGS, MEN I KNEW COULDNT HAVE BEEN GUILTY AND AND- YOU WANT TO SAY ITS ALL BEEN FOR NOTHING?!?” “CALM YOURSELF WIROTHESLEY!-“ “NO! BECAUSE THIS IS FUCKING RIDICULOUS!”

A shouting match began between the two men, Chlorinde jumped up and wrapped herself around a now shaking Furina who was about to cry again, holding your form close to her chest. As the men screamed at each other - and teacups started being thrown - you finally stirred, opening bleary eyes at the scene unveiling before you.

Why were people screaming..? What… You looked up to see Furina shaking and silently sobbing over you, Chlorinde hushing her and whispering into her ear, though you couldn’t hear what she was saying. Wriggling around enough to face the shouting, your eyes widened at the sight of Neuvillette and Wirothesley screeching at each other, both Visions glowing wildly at the emotions of their wielders.

It was getting to a point where your ears were starting to hurt, so you leapt of Futuna’s lap, which led to her and Chlorinde whipping their heads to you, and ran over to the shouting men. You didn’t know what had come over you, seeing them both fight - something you never thought you would’ve witnessed honestly - and ran between them paws raised. Both paused for only a second, before Wirothesley started arguing again and Neuvillette followed. You tried to chitter and call over both of them, not getting anywhere with their raised voices.

You took a deep breath, focusing. This had been something you wanted to try since the beginning but just never had the time nor the energy to do so. But if there ever was a time, now was it. Your brows furrowed as you focused on any and all water in the current room, imagining the water following your command, as though alive and you its master. You grunted, catching Furina’s attention as she called for you to come back.

Cups suddenly started shaking in the room, only the Archon and Dualist taking note. It also didn’t help that the entire building was surrounded by water, though luckily you were able to mostly focus your attention on the small bits of water in the room. Neither Wriothesley or Neuvillette stopped to look at you as you raised your little paws to your head, the shouting mixed with your focus bringing on a headache.

Finally, it came to a close when Wriothesley shouted at the top of his lungs; teacups shattered and liquid swirled around the room, tea and water and otherwise swimming around the room like a raging typhoon, slamming into walls and knocking over objects. Finally the Duke and Sovereign stopped looking just as shocked as the Duelist and Archon. You pressed your paws forward, all the liquid slamming onto the arguing duo, pushing them into wall on opposite sides of the room.

Neuvillette looked remorseful while Wriothesley was shocked, eyes as wide as possible and jaw slacked. After a moment of silence you dropped your paws, allowing the two to fall to the floor drenched and standing in puddles.

“Holy… Holy Shit. They are the…” Wriothesley looked towards Neuvillette who nodded. Wriothesley fell to his knees, hands gripping at his hair and tears filling his eyes.

“All my life… was a lie?” You rushed to his side before he could spiral, rapidly chittering and crying, wishing you could speak so you could comfort him. In fear of another argument you began to cry. You sniffled and placed paws on his arm, practically begging him not to fall down that dark hole of spiraling thoughts.

Suddenly, you felt a hand on your head. Fingers gently carded through your fur, and you looked up, meeting Wriothesley’s eyes. They were still teary, filled with grief and sorrow, but there was something behind it, something bright.

“Mm… don’t cry little guy. I didn’t mean to uh… scare you?” His smile was shaky at best. You whined and climbed into his lap, paws pressed to his cheeks and small kitten-licks to the tears he evidently didn’t know about, rubbing away any others you couldn’t get. His eyes widened, quickly trying to rub away any stray tears he caught.

The others watched the scene, not daring to speak. Eventually Wriothesley picked you up to stare at you. All his life had been spent worshiping one person, they fell from the sky one day, and he figured that’d be it. He got live in the generation that saw the return of their blessed Creator. Never to have them look him in the eye or anything.

But here you were. An otter. And you had already done so much more for him than the Creator had in such a short amount of time.

It would take a while, he figured, till his mind really did say that you were, in fact, the real and true Creator, till his mind could finally let go of the notion that he’d never get to see them because here you were, in his arms, caring for him.

“… Y’know… you’re a pretty cute little otter.” Everyone’s eyes snapped over to him when he spoke, more tears falling from his eyes. You squirmed around, desperately trying to get close enough to wipe them but were caught off-guard when instead Wriothesley wiped tears out of your eyes.

You cried, squirming in his arms to wrap your own around his neck. Everyone was silent as this happened, watching as his arms gently curled around you, slowly breaking down.

Neuvillette turned away, ashamed that he had lost his cool, and watched as Furina got up from the couch and walked over to you and Wriothesley. She couched down and sat beside you both, laying a head on Wriothesley’s shoulder.

You chirped quietly into the mana chest, letting him silently sob into you.

Only the sound of moving water disrupted the calm.

૮꒰づ˶• ༝ •˶꒱づ ˚ʚ ꒰⁐⁐⁐⁐୨🍯🧁🥥୧⁐⁐⁐⁐꒱ ɞ˚

That meeting was weeks ago, and now your little group was coming up with a plan to bring this news to light before all the other nations.

It had been well established to them that creatures of Teyvat, from small bugs to the largest beast, would all listen to you under any and all circumstances.

Like now.

While they all spoke under the moonlight inside Wriothesley’s office - one of the most secretive places in all of Fontaine - you swam just outside the walls in a raft of otters, all in all just having a fun time until the inevitable.

The rebellion.

Naturally everyone in the room was pissed, especially since it had been years at this point that that false ‘Creator’ had sat on a throne that was rightfully yours. They could see the effect your presence had on Fontiane.

The sun shone brighter, the water seemed clearer, less Meka broke down, flower bloomed easier, crime even dropped. It was great.

Everyone and everything seemed and felt happier.

Much happier than with that fucking liar.

A map of the large, floating Sanctuary and Shrine that was supposed to house the Creator was laid out across a table, specific entry point circled in red.

“Next week marks the beginning of the *Creator’s Walk. Defenses will grow as this week passes but the first day of the walk, there will be no Acolytes.” Neuvillette broke the silence by pointing towards the circles on the map.

“But they’ll still be in the perimeter. I should know, I was apart of the last Creator’s Walk.” Chlorinde spoke up, adjusting her hat. “I can’t think of any entrance we may have left ungraded, even if from a distance.”

They were silent as they thought. The Creator’s walk was a Month Long holiday where the Creator would walk nation to nation - by themselves - in order to hand out blessings, push back monsters for a following month of no attacks and to retrace their original path between Nations, a show that they were all still connected.

The quiet was broken by the sounds of you chittering, the door opening and revealing you wrapped in a Melusine themed towel, Sigewinne trailing right behind you.

“Thank you Sigewinne for returning them to us, now if you would mind-“ Neuvillette started but was interrupted by the Melusine, “You’re talking about the plan right?” Everyone stared at her while you took it upon yourself to climb into Furina’s lap.

“How did-“ “Uh, duh. I’ve known all along? I would’ve figured you’d have guessed that by now, especially with all the other Melusine and Meka treating them so great? Come on Monsieur Neuvillette, you’re smarter than that!” The sentence was ended with a giggle as she skipped over to the still shocked older man.

Neuvillette shook himself from the sudden stupor, sighing and nodded, before his eyes lit up.

“That’s right. We have all the Meka of Fontaine on our side. They’d do anything for ma moitié. How in Archons name did we forget we have an entire army on our side?” Everyone stared at Neuvillette sheepishly, shrugs and mutters filling the room. Neuvillette sighs and hangs his head, but quickly rebounds.

“Well in that case, most Nations haven’t fought our Meka-“ “But they have fought Ruin Guards.” Chlorinde spoke again. Neuvillette bit his cheek, she had a point. While Meka were different, it wouldn’t take to much the Acolytes to find weaknesses due to said Ruin Guards.

Silence again.

“The Local Legends and beasts alike could be of use. I mean, I doubt anyone’s fought giant crabs before.” Furina mentioned, though most of her attention was on you, drying you off and petting you.

“That is true, Lady Furina.” Wriothesley agreed. Eyes drew back to the map, taking in every spot on the thing.

“There!” Sigewinne was the one to point to a point on the map, near the back to the left of the large estate.

“What’s the spot?” She asked, Wriothesley took one look and responded.

“That’s a window to their wine cellar. Pretty unused but still guarded, why?” Sigewinne looked up with a grin.

“Because it’s closest to a body of water.” Chlorinde looked closely at the spot, and her eyes widened a bit.

“She has a point, and on top of that, while it is still guarded it’s much more lax, especially considering it’s not to far from where the ‘Creator’ will be leaving but far enough where anyone would doubt an entry. On the other hand, it could only appear that way.”

“That’s where Meka and monsters could come in.” Wriothesley started. “When we’re protecting the place we more expect other people than monsters considering they’re all scared of the place.”

The plan started to come together, more pieces being added and who should go first and so on and so forth. Furina was too busy playing with you to really care, but looked up with a confused expression.

“When are we going to tell the others? Vision users, I mean. And… how?” Everyone looked towards her.

“…Fuck.” And a new can of worms now needed to be opened.

໒꒰ྀི˶˙Ⱉ˙˶꒱ྀིა Author’s note : IM SO FUCKING SORRY I CANT DO IT!! I swear I will be keeping this idea in mind tho because I now have a plan to map out all of the creator stories I swear it I’m just tired omg I’m sorry but I hope this suffices for now-

… This is so disappointing I’m sorry-

#genshin impact sagau #sagau x reader #sagau #x reader #x gn reader #gn y/n #x gn y/n #yandere x reader #yandere x you #Otter!Creator #asks <3 #anon <3

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aniesvision · 3 months ago

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𝑪𝒂𝒏 𝒘𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒊𝒎 𝒉𝒐𝒎𝒆?

𝚠𝚊𝚛𝚗𝚒𝚗𝚐𝚜: 𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒆 ت︎

𝚊/𝚗: 𝒉𝒆𝒚! 𝒊'𝒎 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒔𝒖𝒓𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒊𝒔 (𝒊𝒅𝒌 𝒊𝒇 𝒊𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒔 𝒂𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒄𝒂𝒏𝒐𝒏𝒔) 𝒃𝒖𝒕 𝒊 𝒕𝒉𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉𝒕 𝒊𝒕'𝒅 𝒃𝒆 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆. 𝒆𝒏𝒈𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒉 𝒊𝒔 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒎𝒚 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒖𝒂𝒈𝒆, 𝒆𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚 ☕︎

𝚜𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢: 𝒄𝒖𝒕𝒆 𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒕𝒍𝒆 𝒔𝒕𝒐𝒓𝒚𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒃𝒆𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒂 𝒄𝒂𝒕 𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒐𝒏 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒎𝒂𝒕𝒕/𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔'𝒔 𝒈𝒊𝒓𝒍𝒇𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒏𝒅

𐂃 𝙼𝚊𝚝𝚝 𝚡 𝚏! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𓃠 You gasp and bring your hands to cover your mouth, excited, which makes Matt look at you confused. "Oh my god, he's the cutest thing ever!!" you giggle and take a few steps forward, bending down to pet an orange cat. Matt smiles, rolling his eyes and standing by you, stroking your hair lightly. "You say it about all of them, sweetheart". You keep your attention on the pet, with a big smile as you rub his little belly. "Because they're all the cutest thing ever".

𓃠 "Matt!" you yell, making your boyfriend jump and look at you, he was currently waiting on the line to the drive-thru. "What??" he asks, watching as you giggle and point to a specific spot. "A cat!". He shakes his head, trying to breathe normally now that he knows it isn't anything bad.

𓃠 You and Matt were walking down the street. Your apartment was just a couple blocks away, and you two decided to take a walk earlier, now you were on your way back. Matt instantly smiled, noticing a pet shop on the other side of the street, knowing how excited you'd get. "Look, cats for adoption". Your eyes immediately widen, your head lifting and searching for the right direction. "WHERE??".

𓃠 You almost got you and your boyfriend hit by a car, but at least you got to see lots of baby cats.

𓃠 Matt was laughing and hugging you as you cried on his chest, punching him with annoyance. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" he kept repeating in your ear, but your tears continued to roll down your cheeks, the video still playing on Matt's phone. "It's not funny" you say, with your voice shaky, making him laugh even more. "It's kinda funny" he replies, watching the video again, the screen playing a small compilation of cats falling. Let's just say you were emotional that night.

𓃠 "Baby, I got a surprise for you!" Matt yells, passing through your front door. He was holding a box. You raise an eyebrow at him, stepping closer, curious. "What is it?" you ask, raising your hands to open the box. "Well, remember that little guy you liked the other day?" he asks, your eyes already shining and your jaw falling when you see what was inside the box. "YOU GOT ME A CAT?" you get the cat out of the box, holding him in your arms and pouting when you hear his little meow. "Surprise" Matt says, pecking your lips and giggling at your reaction.

𐂂 𝙲𝚑𝚛𝚒𝚜 𝚡 𝚏! 𝚛𝚎𝚊𝚍𝚎𝚛

𓃠 "Oh, hello baby" you hear Chris saying in his baby voice. You tilt your head, confused, seeing him pet a cute orange cat. You immediately stand up from the bench, making a beeline and kneeling in front of the cat, a big smile on your face. "Oh my God, hi! You're so cute, yes you are!" you say, making Chris sigh in annoyance that you've stolen the cat's attention to yourself.

𓃠 "Chris, we need to talk." you say, stopping in front of him with puppy eyes, his eyes immediately widen at the phrase. "Wow, what did I do this time?" he asks, smirking down at you and wrapping his arms around your waist. "I want to be a mom" you mumble. His eyebrows arch as he looks around, nodding at the direction you came from. "Which one?" he asks, eyes scanning every single cat behind the glass. "All of them." you pout and he giggles, shaking his head.

𓃠 "Hey, look." your boyfriend breaks the silence, making you turn your head in his direction. He shows you a video, apparently an edit, the zoomed screenshot of Quen's video saying her cat doesn't like man, and then Chris petting the cat. "No lady can resist me" he says cockily, biting his lips. You shake your head, turning your attention back to your phone. "You're dumb" you say, making him laugh.

𓃠 You and Chris were waiting for Matt and Nick to come back, both of you in the car. You were looking through the window when your eyes spotted a cat. You smile, watching it getting closer and closer to the car, so you decide to get out. "Hey, where are you going?" you hear Chris's voice. The cat immediately runs in your direction with cute meows, showing you his belly. You start petting it, and Chris shows up behind you and takes a photo. "You're insane." he laughs and you look up at him. "Can we bring him with us?" you smile with your teeth, trying to convince him. "Absolutely not."

𓃠 It's your birthday. You usually don't like your birthday, but being able to hang out with your best friends and your boyfriend made it a good one. You spend the whole day going to different locations you like: the park, the amusement park, the arcade, a coffee shop, some stores, and back to your place. Chris decided to sleepover, considering he wanted to stay with you, and you also wanted to cuddle him to sleep. Your friends got your attention for a while, and you didn't even notice it happening until Chris said he had another present for you. Someone covers your eyes, and you hear a familiar noise, and your heart starts to beat fast. When you finally regain your vision, Chris is in front of you with a cute bouquet... and a cat in the middle.

𓃠 "I can't believe we're finally parents!" you say, petting your new cat. You and Chris were lying on your bed together, your pet in the middle. "I know, and he's so well-behaved!" he says, taking a few photos of the little one.

𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒔 ✍︎

➪ @riowritesitall @sturniolosarethebest @hyacinthst @flower-sturns @sturncakez @watercolorskyy @delooshunalhoe @sarosfilms @blahbel668 @sturniyolo69 @sturniolosl0t @sturnsxbitvh @colbsposts00 @fallingforfalll2 @stvrnmc @slxtformatt @starnoirr @katie-tibo @mattsfavbigtitties @sturnioloblues @monroesturnns @mattnchrisworld @shaquilles-0atmeal

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catsteeth · 5 months ago

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The Caged Bird & The Leased Dog

Sandor Clegane x reader

+:✿ Chapter - 12 ✿:+ War and Atonement

Chapter Index | next chapter

Summary: You are the daughter of Jon Arryn, you and your father travel to King's Landing with the intention of arranging a marriage for you. You catch a glimpse of The Hound during your first night in Kings Landing and it creates a mutual fascination even if he won't admit it.

CW: MDNI, NSFW themes, VIOLENCE, threats of non-con, major character death, minor character death, mention of animal death, misogyny, angst, the boltons, mentions of being drugged, emotional unavailability, emotional vulnerability, The Hound being abrasive, mention of death, blood, threats of violence, mentions of arranged marriage,

A/N: SEASON FINALEEEE (week long break) all I am gonna say is… yeesh. It’s a little long and it's really sad. K BYE!! SEE Y'ALL LAATERR

Word Count: 8.9K

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Sandor gripped his ax in his hand tightly as he stalked through the woods. Finding the men who killed Ray and the rest of the Sept was not hard.

The lot of them were in the woods loudly shouting about something Sandor couldn’t care less about. As he marched up behind them, a few of the four men noticed him. They startled easily looking at the giant lumbering man charging towards them with an ax in hand.

With a furious rage fueled growl he cut and slashed through three of them men with ease. Chopping through their neck, or their heads.

Finally he approached the last man, a bald older man. He took his ax and with one blow he buried the ax into the man's cock.

The man cried out in pain, dropping to his knees. Sandor took hold of the man's head, forcing him to look at him,

“Where are the other ones? The one with the yellow cloak.” He questioned, unaffected by the violence he’d just afflicted on the other men.

“Fuck you!” The bald man screamed,

“Those are your last words? Fuck you? Come on, you can do better.” Sandor mocked,

The man stammered for a moment unsure of how to reply, “Cunt!” he screamed.

“You’re shit at dying, you know that?” He said as though he had grown tired of his attempts.

He raised the ax high above his head and threw it down. The man screamed but his screams silenced as the Hounds ax buried deep into his skull.

He pulled his ax out and continued on, starved for the only satisfaction he’d left. Violent revenge.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

In the Eyrie, Baelish was restraining your men from returning to your aid. He closed the Bloody Gates and forced his men loyal to him and his claim to prevent any of yours from leaving. You were left in Winterfell with only nine men.

In Winterfell, you’d spend most of your time training.

You and Ser Varys’s swords clash against one another again and again. You were able to knock Varys off his own balance and land him on the ground. You pointed your sword at him,

“I didn’t ask for you to go easy on me, Varys.” You said with a huff, out of breath.

He shook his head, “I am not, my lady. It seems as though you’ve improved remarkably, and quite quickly.” He smiled at you as he stood, “You’re a natural.” He nodded,

You smiled and looked down, you sheathed your sword, proud of yourself. It was the first time you’d felt that feeling… Pride in your accomplishments. Before you could allow yourself to soak in that feeling, a low and gruff voice from behind you spoke.

“Aye, I’d say so. A real killer. You can see it in her eyes.” You turned with a furrowed brow around to see a tall wild looking man. He wore furs of different origin, and his hair was the brightest red you’d ever seen. He looked at you with wide and excited eyes, “Pretty murderous eyes-“ You let out a dry chuckle,

Varys Cole however found nothing amusing in it, he stepped forward and in front of you holding onto the hilt of his sword. “If you wish to speak to the Lady Arryn, you’ll learn to do it in a more respectful manner.” He spoke sternly.

“Who are you?” You asked,

His eyes went from Varys to you quickly, he smiled at you, “Tormund.” He flashed his eyebrows at you.

“From beyond the wall?” You’d never met a Wildling but you’d imagine this is what they’d look like.

“Aye, you don’t like Wildlings?” His gaze narrowed at you slightly,

You shook your head, “I am of no opinion.”

“No opinion?” He asked with a raised eyebrow,

“I’ve never met one before.” You held in a laugh at this man's obvious attraction towards you.

“Aye well, now ye’ have.” He took one step closer, He looked over towards Varys pointing at him “I don’t think he likes wildlings much.”

Varys took another step closer to him, you raised your hand to signal for him to step down, “It’s alright. I apologize for Ser Cole, he is quite protective of me.” You said softly,

“I’d be too if you were my woman-“ He said with his head lowered but his eyes still on you.

“She is the Lady of the Vale. I am her sword-“ Ser Varys Cole interjected.

“You’re a sword?” he asked confused, never hearing the expression.

“Her protector.” Varys said sternly.

“The way she holds that sword I don’t think the pretty crow needs one. But a woman should have a man.” His voice was lustful, not seductive but lustful.

“You have a gift for subtlety.” You scoffed, holding in laughter.

“Aye, and gifted at many other things-” He took another step closer to you but Varys blocked him.

The two men stared at one another attempting to intimidate the other. Before you could interject, Jon did.

“Enough, come on, we've got things to do.” Jon said, pulling Tormund away.

As the both of them walked away and into the Lord Commander's quarters, Varys looked at you with annoyance and you held in a laugh.

“He won’t relent if you encourage it.” He said walking towards you,

“I found it amusing.” You shrugged. He’d no power, and you knew you’d never be with another man so long as you were without Sandor. Besides, waiting for your armies was getting dull.

“You shouldn’t allow people to speak to you like that.” He lectures, sounding like your father.

“Are you my advisor now?” You asked with a furrowed brow.

“I have been, it would seem.” He said, you couldn’t really argue because he was right.

“Perhaps.” You looked down, then back to him, “You are right. But I don’t wish to earn respect through men in armor flashing steel. That is not respect, it’s fear.”

“Some may say they are one in the same.”

“Some. Not I. I know the difference.” You said sternly, “Respect forged on the soil of fear will grow anger and contempt. Respect forged on the soil of kindness and compassion grows loyalty and trust.” You removed your belt that held your sword and handed it to Varys, “Soon the rest of the Knights left in the west will remember that.”

Varys softly smiled and nodded at you, surprised but pleased with your wisdom. You smiled back.

Suddenly you could hear the guards shouting, “Open the gates!” the men shouted,

You watched as the gates to Castle Black opened. Three people on horseback made their way in. Two of them were a mystery to you but one you recognized immediately. A tall and beautiful girl with red hair, your cousin.

As she dismounted you stepped closer towards her, unable to believe your eyes that it was her. You thought for so long that you’d never see her again.

“Sansa?” You asked softly, she looked at you, you could see a dark and tired pain in her eyes. She wrapped her arms around you, and you wrapped your arms around her in return.

“What are you doing here?” She asked you, still wrapped around you.

“I could ask you the same.” You said.

You felt her arms loosen around you. As you pulled away to look at her you noticed she was looking behind you. As you turned to see what she saw, you saw Jon standing there. He was in as much disbelief as you were, maybe even more. You let go of her, and she ran into Jon’s arms.

As they embraced, the man who rode in with Sansa walked up to you.

“Lady Arryn?” He asked in a hush voice,

You turned to better face him, “Do I know you, Ser?” you asked.

He shook his head, looking at you with curiosity and the same disbelief Jon looked at Sansa with. “Not very well. I was in the service of Lord Tyrion Lannister during your time in KingsLanding.” You then recognized him, you looked down and swallowed hard. “He thought you were dead, it took him some time to admit it but he did. Thought Stannis’s soldiers during the blackwater killed you, then he thought the hound took you. But when I saw him he didn’t have you, so I knew that couldn’t have been right.” He rambled mindlessly as he stared at you still examining you in disbelief.

Your eyes widened when you heard he’d seen Sandor, “You saw him?” You asked quickly.

“Before we saved Lady Sansa from the Bolton’s-”

“The Boltons?” You interrupted him.

Petyr had threatened you with the prospect of giving Sansa away in your place. But she was in King's Landing, married to Lord Tyrion. You thought surely she was safe. You felt your stomach drop as you realized he’d done it, and it was your fault.

“Lady Brienne fought him while we were looking for Lady Arya.” He continued without answering your question.

“Fought him?” Your eyes went even wider, you felt your pulse quicken.

“And won, he fell down the mountain in the Vale.” You felt as if a wave of cold ocean water had crashed against your body. You felt your heart sink and your stomach turn. “We were there looking for Arya, thought she might have been hiding within it.” You didn’t even pay attention to the last bit he said, your ears rang and “How did you get out?” He asked, you did not look at him. Couldn’t bring yourself to. You looked down, and you muttered,

“Another time.” As you walked with hast back to your chambers,

Your eyes began to well with tears and your face was hot, your breathing picked up and you couldn’t help but feel yourself begin to crumble.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・

You slammed the door to your chamber closed, you collapsed onto your bed.

You felt every part of your body ache, your heart felt hallowed out. Your breathing labored from your sobs. You couldn’t bear the pain, it was new. When the others you loved died, your body went numb but now, now you felt entirely too much. You felt far far far too much. You’d never felt your heart break, felt your heart truly cry, until now.

You sobbed into the furs of your bed, silencing your cries as best you could. But soon you heard your door open and close quickly as you looked up. It was Varys.

“(Y/N)?” He asked softly, he approached your side by your bed. “Are you alright?” He kneeled by your side, placing a hand on the side of your head as you laid there in agony.

“He warned me. He warned me and I did not listen to him.” You whimpered as you sobbed gently.

Varys rubbed his thumb against your temple, “It was your life or hers, you couldn’t be made such a choice-”

“But I could have. I didn’t give it because I thought she’d be safe… I thought he’d come back for me.” You angrily wiped your tears.

“He did-”

“And he died for it. This whole time I waited and wished” You snapped angrily before your sorrow overtook you again, you threw your head back against the bed as you said, “Gods, know I have been selfish and I have been spiteful. I wished to see the downfall of Littlefinger enough to overlook it willingly.” You shook your head, “It should have been me there. She is good, and I am nothing but nausea, nothing but a longing, nothing but disgrace, nothing but a piece to be moved about the board, nothing but a daughter who was meant to be a son.” Your numbness finally set in, you laid there, your tears falling from your eyes and your lips swollen, nose red but at least you didn’t need to feel it anymore.

Varys took in your words, “Child. You are discerning, wise, and well reasoned. Those are traits of your father. You are also strong-willed, audacious, and above all loyal. Those are traits of your mother.” He shook his head, “When you were born, your mother and father could not have held greater contentedness. Since that day I have watched you create (Y/N) Arryn in wonder.” He smiled at you softly.

“What of your family, Varys?” You felt silly for never, during this whole time, asking him such a simple question.

“I had a daughter once, for just a moment. When I was much younger.” He smiled at the memory, “My wife, Helena. A beauty she was, and as sharp as a dagger. She died, attempting to give life to our daughter. She was far too small for life to not slip from her. They both perished in her efforts.” His eyes welled up in tears but his smile persisted, “She would have been your age now.” He held your face in his hand “Since that day, I have only looked after one child my whole life.” He swallowed back emotion, he looked at you understandingly, “You’re in a dark period in your life,”

“It seems as though my whole life has been a dark period, aside from a few days of either boredom or even fewer of happiness.” You spoke softly as you sniffed your runny nose.

He shook his head, “You’ve lived a life within the rules of others. Soon you will live by your own. I am as old as your mother would be, I know these things well enough. You will be remembered, beloved, and respected. Soon the light and wisdom will come to you. You’ll be happy, child.” He smiled at you, he knew what he was saying and meant every word of it.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As Sandor stalked the woods, tracking down the rest of the men who’d slaughtered the sept. He found them, only they were standing on logs of wood with their heads in nooses.

The men surrounding them were the members of the Brotherhood. The very men who’d abducted Sandor and who’d separated he and you.

Thoros looked over at Sandor marching over, bloody ax in hand, “Clegane, the fuck you doing here?” He asked,

“Chasing them. You?” Sandor asked confused,

“Hanging them.”

“Any particular reason?” He questioned

“They’re our men. Or they were. They attacked a nearby Sept and murdered the villagers. Why do you want them?”

“Same reason. I was helping build it. They killed a friend of mine.” He said as he walked closer to them three men in nooses, with a cold look in his eyes.

“You’ve got friends?” Thoros asked mockingly,

Sandor shook his head, “Not anymore. They’re mine.” He said, still walking closer.

Beric stopped him, “It’s the Brotherhood’s good name they’ve dragged through the dirt.”

“Fuck your name, they’re mine.” Sandor tried to step forward again but Beric’s hand stopped him, Sandor looked at him with dark eyes “I killed you once before, Dondarrion. Happy to do it again.” He narrowed his eyes, “Drop that arrow you bloody girl. Tougher girls than you have tried to kill me.” He threatened without looking away from Beric. Once the archer didn’t relent he turned to him and began to walk towards him, ax ready in hand.

Beric interjected, “You can have one of them.”

Sandor turned around, “Two.” He haggled.

Beric considered it, then finally nodded in approval.

Sandor walked towards the first man, drew back his ax behind his head and as he was about to swing, Thoros grabbed it, stopping the swing.

“No, no, no. We’re not butchers. We hang them.” Thoros said,

Sandor pulled his ax away from his grasp, “Hanging? All over in an instant. Where's the punishment in that?” He sighed, “I’ll only gut one of them.” trying to haggle again.

“No,” Beric said firmly,

“Chop off one hand?” Sandor asked

“We gave you two out of three out of respect for your loss. That’s generous.” Beric reaffirmed,

Sandor huffed, “Bunch of nancies.” He dropped his ax, “There was a time I would have killed all seven of you just to gut these three.”

“Getting old, Clegane.” Thoros teased

“He’s not.” Sandor said before kicking out the wood logs from underneath the two men he was granted to kill.

As they thrashed around, he stole the boots from one of the men. As he tried on the stolen boots he turned to the Brotherhood who were staring at him, “Got anything to eat?”

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

As you sat at a dining table with Jon, Edd, Tormund, Brienne, Podrick, and sat beside you was Sansa and to your otherside, Varys.

You all sat together eating some sort of meat. It was awful but it was no worse than the food you and Sandor were forced to endure while you were on your own.

It was awkwardly silent. The unspoken trauma that you and Sansa had experienced separately that lingered in the air was certainly to blame. Nor did your disdain for Brienne. You had to keep it hidden though you couldn’t help but scowl at her from time to time. You knew she most likely had no choice but to kill him. Your man did not relent, it wasn’t his nature to stop. When he fought he fought to kill. Still, it was hard not to feel resentment. But the hungry looks Tormund flashed your way certainly did not help ease tensions either.

A member of the Night's watch walked into the room, “A letter for you, Lord Commander.” breaking the tension for a moment.

“I’m not Lord Commander anymore.” Jon said, bringing back that same tension. However he conceded and took the scroll from the man. He opened it breaking the Bolton’s wax seal, he did so nodding at him allowing him to go.

You felt ill once you noticed the wax seal.

Jon read a little of it, then began to read it aloud. “To the traitor and bastard Jon Snow. You allowed thousands of wildlings past the wall. You have betrayed your own kind, you have betrayed the north. Winterfell is mine, bastard. Come and see. Your brother Rickon is in my dungeon, his direwolves skin is on my floor, come and see. I want my bride back or the traitor to the east as was betrothed to me. Send one to me, Bastard, and I will not trouble you or your wildling lovers. Keep them from me and I will ride North and slaughter every Wildling, man, and babe living under your protection.” You knew very little of the Boltons, but now you understood just how cruel they were, how much pleasure they took in it. And you knew just how much of a dangerous and sadistic environment Sansa was forced into, it made you feel a red hot rage. “You will watch as I skin them living. You–” Jon stopped, looking at both you and Sansa.

“Go on.” Sansa said, full of conviction. She had grown so much since you’d last seen her. Forced to anyway.

“It’s just more of the same.” Jon said, looking away.

Sansa grabbed ahold of the letter when he wasn’t looking. She continued on reading, “You will watch as my soldiers take turns raping your sister and cousin. You will watch as my dogs devour your wild little brother. Then I will spoon your eyes from their sockets and let my dogs do the rest. Come and see. Ramsay Bolton, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.”

“Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North.” Jon said cautiously,

“His father’s dead. Ramsay killed him.” She looked down, worried. “And now he has Rickon.”

“We don’t know that.” Jon shook his head in denial.

“Yes we do.” Sansa said sternly,

“How many men does he have in his army?” Tormund asked Sansa,

Sansa thought about it for a moment, “I heard him say 5000 once when he was talking about Stannis’s attack.”

“How many do you have?” Jon asked Tormund,

“That can march and fight? 2000.” Tormund estimated.

“And you?” Jon turned his attention towards you.

You looked over to Varys next to you, wanting him to break the news rather than you. “Ser Cole?”

“Half the knights are divided evenly. 3000 so far on our causes side.” Varys said, confidently.

“That's an even fight, but where are they?” Jon questioned,

“Lord Baelish has denied them leave from the Eyrie. The other 3000 keep them at bay within the confines behind the Bloody Gate. Only 50 have escaped, and should, if all goes well, be here within a week's time.” Varys finished. Jon looked at him, then you could tell he was incredibly disappointed and for good.

“I’ve only nine men with me, another 50 coming, hopefully.” You looked at Jon with lowered eyes, knowing it was hardly anything at all.

Sansa remained unmoved, “You are the last son of the last trueborn Lord of Winterfell. Northern families are loyal they’ll fight if you ask.” Sansa gripped onto Jons hand as if she was begging him to see reason. “A monster has taken our home, and our little brother. We have to go back to winterfell.”

Jon nodded, knowing there was no other option than war.

As you sat there you contemplated your options, contemplated what move you could make next.

You turned to Varys, “Ser Cole send a raven, I will attempt contact with Lord Baelish. I will set our… differences aside… momentarily.”

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Sandor ripped into a piece of pork while he sat around a fire with the rest of the Brotherhood.

Beric stared at him, as it ate it, “You ought to join us. We could use you.”

Sandor wasn’t too pleased with the prospect of joining a new group. He was only with the Sept to heal, and repay his debt to Ray. He wanted to get on with it and find you already. “Last time I went with you lot, it didn’t work out for me.” He faked a smile for a moment and dropped it swiftly as he dug further into their food.

“Clegane, we're here for a reason.” Thoros said, trying to convince him, he clearly knew something he didn’t. “The Lord of Light is keeping Beric alive for a reason. We are part of something larger than ourselves.”

“Lots of horrible shit in this world gets done for something larger than ourselves.” Sandor shook his head, not allowing himself to believe it. He was skeptical, and even if it were real what he said, if it meant he had to leave his plans to find you behind… he wouldn’t do it.

“Cold winds are rising in the North.”

“And you’re going go to stop them?” Sandor asked mockingly.

“We need good men to help us.”

“Last time you saw me you wanted to execute me. Got me separated from my woman, she could be dead now. Why would I help you?” His eyes narrowed.

“You can find another woman along the way.” Beric said, trying to comfort him in a way.

If he had said that to Sandor even a fortnight ago he would have beaten him for even suggesting it. But he flashed furious eyes at him, then looked down, “Don’t want another.” he said, sulking in his own misery.

Beric nodded, “True enough. But the Lord of Light gave you the power to defeat me. Why?”

“I beat you, because I’m better than you, Beric. I was better than you before you started yammering about the Lord. And I’m better than you now.” Sandor said with confidence. And he was right, there were very few who could best him.

Beric chuckled, “Aye, you’re probably right. You’re a fighter, born a fighter. You walked away from that fight. How did that go? Good and bad young and old. The thing we’re fighting will destroy them all alike. And if that lady love of yours is still out there, that just will happen to her too. You can help a lot more than you’ve harmed, Clegane.” Beric finished, finally convincing him.

Whatever threat was coming, if it meant you would be in danger, he would do everything he could to stop it. Even if it meant he would be apart from you longer, as long as you were alive, that would be enough.

He nodded, agreeing to whatever journey they had planned for them.

As he did, a large and beautiful Falcon came and landed in a tree nearby, it loudly cawed at him. It was the very same Falcon that stayed with him while he was dying in the mountains of the Vale, the one that had gone missing since.

“Fucking hells…” Sandor grumplied looking at the bird.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You, and Varys rode up to meet with Lord Baelish just outside of Mole Town.

You sat on your horse about twenty feet in front of Baelish on his own horse. He had with him two other Knights of the Vale.

“My beloved Niece.” Baelsih said, smirking, “I hear you have come to a change in heart.”

You showed no emotion, stoic in your response, “No, a momentary delay. I have to request the aid of your army.”

“It is certainly unusual. We are meant to be at war are we not?”

“We are, though I need numbers in another fight.”

“Another?” He raised an eyebrow at you.

You didn’t indulge him in an argument, “I know what you did to Sansa.” You said, darkness growing in your eyes.

He attempted to rationalize his actions quickly, “She wished to return to Winterfell, and I aided her in her effort.”

“She escaped, Baelish.” You interjected quickly, “You should have seen her.” You held back emotion, swallowing it down, “They have threatened war, and we don’t have the numbers. They are going to kill her, kill her brothers, and they will take me in her place. You might believe that to be a good thing, for me to be gone from you. But with his power he will want the Eyrie just as badly, and we both know his cruelty.”

He considered your words carefully, “How do I know you tell the truth? How do I know I am not sending men into a trap where you plan to slaughter them?”

“Because I am the Lady of the Vale. I would not lie to these men.” You looked at the traitors who accompanied Baelish. You could see shame in their eyes as they avoided your gaze. You turned your gaze back to Baelish, much harsher and cold, “Do one good thing. You’ll want Lady Sansa on your side, you’ll want her favor, you’ll want the north’s favor, and you’ll want my mercy.”

“Lady Sansa knows I would never wish ill will onto her. She knows I did not kn-”

“Ask her yourself.” You interrupted before riding off and away from him.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・ ꒱꒱

Once you returned to Winterfell, you received a raven from Baelish. The message read that Baelish would meet with Sansa and offer his aid to her, and her alone. You were determined to convince him. Determined to not let the world take another loved one away from you. You couldn’t take another loss. It would crush any bit of warmth within you that was left, leave you cruel and hateful.

When you entered Sansa’s chambers, you noticed her sewing something.

“What are you working on?” You asked as you walked closer towards her.

“A cape for Jon. The same as our Father wore.” She said as she sewed.

You sat beside her, “He was a good man.” you said, smiling softly at her.

“He was.” She said with a sorrowful smile. As she raised her hand up, pulling a needle through the leather and fur of the cape. Her sleeve fell slightly, allowing you to see bruising.

You held her wrist in your hands gently, stopping her from sewing. You swallowed hard, observing the bruise, feeling both guilt and rage serge through your blood. “I must know what you endured.” You said, sweetly and softly. Like a mother.

“I don’t want you to look at me differently.” She shook her head, and removed her hand. “Besides, I still don’t know what happened to you.” She said looking down shamefully.

You positioned yourself to face her better, “Littlefinger might have taken a child from me. I don’t even know if I have the right to cry over it, because I don't even know if I was, or was not. He took the only man I loved away from me, he took your sister from me. He killed my aunt. He might have killed my father.” You shook your head. “I don't even know that for certain either. The uncertain is worse than the certain, it was almost part of the torment. Kept me in a castle, fed me isolation until I never left my chambers, only thought of the uncertainties. Until he drugged me and sold me to the Boltons. But Varys Cole saved me and brought me here.” Her eyes fell on you, soft and warm. Sympathetic, not pitiful. You smiled through a growing emotion, “See, you’ve not looked at me differently at all.”

Sansa, put down her needle. She looked at you, and with courage she told you all of what she’d endured. Since the moment you had left King’s Landing she had experienced every tragedy you had narrowly escaped. The things the Bolton’s had done was the worst of it. Your blood boiled with hatred. But soon the rage subsided with the overwhelming feeling of guilt, and sorrow.

“I seem to have left you my fate, inadvertently, twice now I am sorry.” You tried to hold back tears, though your voice wavered “Very, very sorry.” You held her hand, “I’d not look at you differently. You are my blood. I’m going to help you kill those men.” You took a breath, “Though there is one thing that you can do.” You said handing her the message Littlefinger had sent for you.

She took the letter and read it, “Littlefinger…” She whispered, “How far is Mole Town?” She asked you.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

The dreaded moment came, a war consultation with Ramsay Bolton the morning before the battle.

Smalljon Umber, and Harald Karstark were there to accompany Ramsay. You and Varys were there alongside Jon, Sansa, Tormund, Davos, and Lyanna Mormont. All of you on horseback on an open field.

Ramsay smiled and spoke confidently, “My beloved wife. Thank you for returning Lady Bolton home safely. Now dismount and kneel before me. Surrender your army and proclaim me the true Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North. I will Pardon you for deserting the Night's Watch. I will pardon these treasonous Lords for betraying my house. And I shall give Lady Arryn the men to fight for the Vale.” You remained stone faced, and stone hearted. As did your companions. Ramsay then continued, “Come Bastard. You don’t have the men, you don’t have the horses, and you don’t have Winterfell. And she doesn’t even have the Eyrie.” He smiled at you, you only scowled. “Why lead those poor souls into slaughter? There’s no need for a battle. Get off your horse, and kneel. I am a man of mercy.” He said, it made you feel ill.

You said nothing, only holding back your desire to stab him in the eye.

“You’re right. There's no need for a battle. Thousands of men don’t need to die. Only one of us. Let's do this the old way. You against me.” Jon said, you held back a smirk, knowing Bolton would never agree.

Ramsay “I keep hearing stories about you. The way the North tells it you’re the greatest swordsman who ever walked. Maybe you are that good. Maybe not. I don’t know if I can beat you. But I know my army will beat yours.” His eyes were wild and wide.

“Aye, you’ve the numbers. Would your men want to fight for you, when they hear you wouldn’t want to fight for them?” Jon said, it made you smirk.

Ramsay smiled, angrily “He’s good, very good. But are you going to let your little brother die because you are too proud to surrender?”

“How do we know you have him?” Sansa said, without fear.

Ramsay smirked, then nodded to one of his men. The man threw towards Sansa the decapitated head of Rickon’s direwolves head. Sansa looked upon it with cold and emotionless eyes.

Ramsey continued, “Now if you want to save–”

“You’re going to die tomorrow, Lord Bolton.” Sansa interrupted coldy, “Sleep well.” She said riding away. You watched as she left, you understood the feeling she had all too well.

Ramsay smiled, “She’s a fine woman, your sister. Just as fine as your cousin.” You looked back at Ramsay, your gaze was hateful and cold, “I look forward to having one of them back in my bed. In the morning then. Bastard.” Ramsay said as he rode away.

You watched them ride off, “If it comes to it… I’ll take her place.” you said to Jon beside you.

Jon shook his head, “No, you won’t. We need every man we can get. Send some ravens.” He said pulling on the reins of his horse, riding away.

You sat there for a moment, thinking of how furious Sandor would be. Furious that someone would have even threatened such actions towards you. Furious that you would even suggest taking such punishment if it meant someone else didn’t. Furious that you’d even gotten in this war. He would have killed Ramsay then and there. But Sandor wasn’t here anymore, only you. So you’d have to kill Ramsay yourself.

You then followed after Jon. You’d a war to plan for.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

Sandor and the rest of the Brotherhood rode through the Riverlands. It was snowing and cold. And Sandor was irritable for good reason. They were going to the Wall, and in Sandor’s mind that was the last place you would be. Of course he would be wrong in that, but you never thought you’d be there either.

“Bad night to be outdoors,” Thoros said, observing the obvious weather.

“You got real powerful to figure that out. Did the Lord of Light whisper that in your ear?” Sandor said mockingly, “‘It’s snowing, Thoros. It’s windy. It's gonna be a cold night.’” He said in a deeper voice mimicking the Lord Thoros served.

Thoros scoffed, “You’re a grouchy old bear, aren’t you, Clegane?” He held out a bottle towards Sandor as a peace offering “You want some rum?”

“Don’t like that shit, It’s too sweet.” Sandor said with a disgusted expression.

“Why are you always in such a foul mood?” Thoros teased,

“Experience.” Sandor replied

Above them a Falcon flew, Sandor saw it and huffed to himself. He thought he’d seen the last of it but the bird continued to stalk him.

“There goes that bird again. Maybe cook it for supper…” Thoros said thinking out loud.

“No.” Sandor snapped quickly before regaining composure, “No one's eating that bird.” He grumbled.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

You laid in your bed. You watched as the sun began to rise over the wall. In solitude you could be weak, devastated, and useless. You could let yourself sink and drown peacefully in your grief and sorrow. Allowing it to wrap you in its cold embrace. Until you heard the horn of war blow. Now you had to hold your head high, you had to be strong, you needed to be relentless.

You pushed yourself out of bed and sat beside the fire in your room.

Varys walked into your chambers, “The war horn has been blown, My Lady.” He said as he closed the door and approached you.

“I know it.” You said staring into the fire.

“I have something for you.” He said softly, you looked over towards him, “I had it made for you here.” You took the metal from his hands. It was black armor, fearsome looking. “Now I do not wish for you to fight. However, this is the first fight you shall lead into Battle.”

“I lead only nine men.”

“59, my lady. The men arrived late last night.” You felt a wave of relief but also a great weight of responsibility and duty, “Even if it were nine men, It is your first fight. You should lead in armor. Your father always wore armor, not in silver and blue but black.” You looked at the armor in your hand, it was a deep and dark black color, like a night sky. “He wore black to show the enemy that his presence, his army's presence, meant death.” You ran your hand over the falcon that was imprinted on the breast plate, “And of course there's a falcon, because there has to be a falcon.” He smiled,

You smiled softly in return, “Thank you.”

He placed a hand on your shoulder, “Are you frightened?” He asked ready to offer reassurance in your ability.

“No.” You said with strong conviction. You had no room to be frightened. You knew you would succeed because failure was not an option.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・

The Battle Began. Your men alongside the Stark forces were stationed at a treeline, to be sure you couldn’t be taken from behind. It was made known prior to the battle that the Stark army would not charge first. You had the least men, so you needed patience on your side.

Across the field is the much larger Bolton army, who have placed archery distance markers with burning, flayed corpses attached to them. You had never seen such a grotesque scene. Though it only made your rage grow bigger.

Ramsay rode out on his horse to the front of his own army, bringing a tied up Rickon Stark. You saw Ramsay dismount and walk towards Rickon with a dagger, you worried for a moment that Ramsay would slit Rickon's throat, but instead he cut bonds. Ramsay pointed at Jon. Rickon starts running in a straight line toward Jon.

Jon, confused, watched as Ramsay pulled out a bow and arrow as Ramsay pointed it at Rickon.

Jon, terrified for his brother, rode out alone onto the battlefield charging towards his brother. All the while Ramsay shoots and misses again. Your heart raced, watching it. Just when Rickon is about to reach Jon, however, Ramsay's final shot hits Rickon in the heart, killing him almost instantly.

“Gods.” You whispered to yourself,

“Prepare to charge!” Davos announced,

You looked over to your men and Ser Varys Cole, you nodded to them to prepare.

Jon you could see across the field. Your heart ached for him, you’d seen your own brother die with only the Gods to blame. And now Jon had one man to blame. So it did not surprise you when Jon charged full tilt at the Bolton army alone, who immediately lost their arrows on him. Alarmed, Davos ordered the Stark forces to charge after their commander.

You commanded the same of your men, Varys gave you one last nod before riding into battle.

Jon was thrown from his horse when it was shot out from under him, Jon prepares for his last stand by drawing his sword and facing the Bolton army alone. However he was saved by the Stark army, and the battle became a chaotic mess of blood, arrows, horses, and swords. Men were killed so quickly that they began to form small hills of the dead.

“It’s a slaughter. Where is Lady Sansa?” You asked Davos, he shook his head at you not knowing. You huffed and looked back to the battle in front of you.

Ramsay ordered his own archers to shoot at the battle. Killing both the Stark forces and his own army. Instead of doing the same, Davos led his archers to join Jon Snow and the others into battle.

You being left alone at the treeline where your armies first deployed you fled to a high hill to get a better view of the battle.

Once you did you could see that the arrows Ramsay ordered out had killed both Stark and Bolton men, and soon the small hills of bodies had become a wall of the dead. It was then clear what they were planning. It was a sadistic way to prevent his enemy from retreating. The remaining Bolton army manage to surround the remaining Stark army and close them in with a shield phalanx.

You watched horrified as the phalanx acted as a noose, tightening around the Stark forces, who by now are dying in droves. Any of them that attempt to retreat toward the wall of dead men, they trample the wounded and squeeze so tightly in the confined space that they are unable to properly move. Smalljon leads a small force over the wall of the dead to ensure that none are able to escape.

Finally you heard the sounds of Horse hooves behind you. You saw a sea of silver Knights being led by both Sansa and Petyr. As they approached you, Petyr looked at you with contempt and explained, “Knights of the Vale shall ride for Lady Sansa.” Making it clear they were not there for you.

You couldn’t argue, there was no time for that. You pulled the reins of your horse Lika. “They will follow me into battle then.” You said with strong conviction, Petyr nodded to them.

The knights looked at you, “There is no time for motivation, no time for a speech. Your men are down there already dying. These men will kill you. So we will kill them first. Now circle them, take them from behind! Blow the horns, and Charge!” You shouted as you rode into battle.

In the battle, Jon was suffocating, just when all hope seemed lost, he heard a war horn sound off in the distance. Around the bend appears a large mounted army of the Knights of the Vale, led by you. The newly arrived Arryn reinforcements quickly circle the phalanx. The Vale knights are able to attack on the Boltons' undefended side, wiping away Ramsay's phalanx and freeing the Stark soldiers. As you led them around, an arrow shot into Lika’s heart, she dropped to the ground and tossed you off and onto the ground.

Disorientation from the fall, you looked up and saw a man in silver armor, laying against the wall of the dead men. As your eyes steadied you saw he was breathing labored, and coughing blood. As they steadied more you saw an arrow in his throat, and as they steadied even more you noticed the man was Varys Cole. You grunted as you crawled towards him on your elbows.

“No,” You whimpered, you pulled yourself onto him, you held his neck, bleeding profusely, “NO!” You cried,

Varys coughed up more blood, “(Y/N), you must leave here” he wheezed,

“No, no, no,” You sobbed gently like a little girl as you held onto his wound, trying to stop the bleeding.

He took your wrist in hand “Leave me-”

You interrupted him, continuing to sob, “Don’t leave me-”

“I am dying.” His eyes were low, and he spoke tiredly.

“You cannot!” You shook your head and shouted as you cried

“All men can.” He removed his belt and sword along with it, handing it to you. “My sword is yours, child.”

You continued to sob, “Varys-”

He whipped your tears with his bloody hand, “It’s been yours long enough.” You held the hand he caressed your cheek with until it went limp and fell to his side.

“Varys-V-V” You stammered as you sobbed, “Varys!” Clinging to his armor, as his eyes faded. Your numbness didn’t come as it often did. But sadness did not either. A rage fueled blood lust unlike anything you'd ever felt overtook your body.

Enraged and maddened with grief you took Varys’s sword in hand, you stood and charged into battle, eyes puffy and red swelled from the tears that fell from them, your nose and cheeks red and slashed with heat from emotion, you breathed deeply but your sobs made you choke on your own breathing.

You managed to strike two men down with your sword. Grunting and screaming out in grief as you fought. All in which you endured to this moment flashed before your eyes. It only fueled your rage.

After you striked down your third man an arrow flew and struck you in your thigh. You overpowered your body’s instrict to hunch over in pain. As your hands reached the arrow in your leg, a man came up behind you and grabbed you.

He placed his hand over your mouth pressing you against his body. His other hand held a dagger, he swung his arm around to stab you in the belly but you grabbed ahold of his forearm before he could make contact.

You bit his hand as hard as you could, nearly taking off his finger completely. The man dropped the dagger and shouted out in pain.

Within an instant you broke the end of the arrow in your thigh off and pulled it through your leg. You then turned around and used the arrow to stab through the man's eye. Killing him.

You looked over to see Tormund staring at you, in awe, “Fuck you doing here?” Tormund asked,

“Fighting.” You responded, eyes still puffy and red. Mouth still stained with the blood of the man you’d just killed. You took back your sword and looked over to see Ramsay, now without a fighting force, decides to retreat to Winterfell to hold out in a siege. Your eyes found Jon nearby, “Jon, He’s fleeing!” You shouted. You and Jon ran following behind Ramsay alongside Tormund and the giant Wun Wun. You ran despite the horrid pain in your leg.

Before you could reach the main gate. Ramsay closed them. However it didn’t last very long when Wun Wun was able to break down the main gate, allowing the Starks and Arryns to pour through.

Your army along with the remaining Starks and Freefolks kill all remaining Bolton men in the castle. Wun Wun collapses to his knees after being hit by arrows, bolts, and javelins. Before Jon can comfort his friend, however, Ramsay kills the giant with an arrow through the eye.

Ramsay, refusing to surrender, “You suggested one on one combat, I’ve reconsidered, I think that's a wonderful Idea.” He taunted Jon,

Ramsay then began shooting arrows at Jon unarmed. You threw a shield from a fallen Mormont soldier. Jon grabs it while boldly advancing, blocking all of Ramsay's shots. When he reached Ramsay, he smacks the bow out of his hands and knocks him to the ground. With Ramsay down, Jon pins him and proceeds to beat him savagely.

You smiled as you watched it, tears falling from your eyes. You feared you may laugh.

Though it seems as if he will kill Ramsay, Jon stops. Jon then ordered for Ramsay to be locked in the kennels. The Bolton banners drop to the ground in a cluttered heap while the Starks banner is raised above Winterfell for the first time in three years.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・

You entered the Kennels. Looking upon the bloodied and beaten Ramsay, tied in a chair.

He looked at you, “Are you waiting for me to speak first? Man does not normally introduce himself to his former betrothed.” He said mockingly

“Ramsay.” You stated quietly and coldly.

“You do remember, how lovely.” He laughed to himself, “You look wonderful. The crimson of violence suits you well. I knew it would.” He said, attempting to goad you.

“I understand who you are now. A broken little boy who cannot bear the pain of the world, so he becomes it. But cruelty is easy and you are not special for choosing it.” You took out your sword, you placed the tip of the blade against his chest, “I’ve wanted to bury my blade in you for a long time.” You said, fighting the urge to push it in, “Only, it’s not my blade to hold.” You said, looking behind you, seeing Sansa standing here. She nodded to you and you nodded in return as you opened the kennel doors and stood with her on the outside of the kennel’s cage.

“Oh, Sansa.” Ramsay smiled, “Our time together is about to come to an end. That’s alright, you can’t kill me. I’m part of you now.” He said trying to torment her one last time.

Sansa however remained unfazed by his attempt, “Your words will disappear, your house will disappear, your name will disappear, all memories of you will disappear.” She said coldly as Ramsay’s starved dogs fled their cages and circled him.

“My Hounds will never harm me.” Ramsay said, with a growing fear in his voice.

“You haven’t fed them in seven days. You said it yourself.” Sansa said emotionlessly as she watched them circle.

“They’re loyal beasts.” Ramsay said, uncertainty present in his voice.

“They were. Now they’re starving.”

“Down!” He shouted at the dog, instead of listening the dog began hungrily sniffing and licking his bloody face. “Down! Down! Down!” He shouted and shouted until his shouts became screams. Overcome by hunger, the hound proceeds to savagely maul his face and the others follow suit. As Ramsay is devoured alive by his own dogs, Sansa turns to you and you both lock arms as you and she walk away. Though you limped mostly. You both savor the sounds of his screams. You turn to look at one another, you both softly smile at one another.

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

In Winterfell, A day had passed since the battle. You laid in your bed recovering from your physical injuries. Though you spent most of your time laying there sulking in your own misery.

That night Sansa entered your chambers with a cup of tea, “How’re you feeling?” She asked, handing you the cup as you sat up.

“Like I’ve had an arrow through my leg.” You said stoically as you took the cup.

She smiled, though her smile faded, “I am… sorry for your loss.” she said earnestly.

“And I yours.” You said, just as earnest as she was.

“I’ve come with good news.” She said trying to brighten your spirits, “Once they were left unattended at the gate, your armies fled the Vale, they are coming here, to Winterfell. And I hear some of Baelish’s Knights have left his side to join your ranks. You have shown great bravery, and great loyalty to your men. No one shall forget it.” She smiled at you.

“It wouldn’t have happened without you. They rode for you.” You smiled back,

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

During your recovery Jon continued his mission in defeating the White Walkers. He had traveled to Dragonstone to persuade The Dragon Queen to allow him to mine for Dragonglass. While there, Jon received a letter regarding the army of the dead approaching Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. Tyrion who was acting as Daenerys hand, proposed a plan to capture a wight to prove to Cersei, the existence of the White Walkers. Jon agrees and departs with Davos, Jorah, and Gendry.

Once at the Wall, they met with Tormund with whom they shared their plan.

“Isn’t it your job to talk him out of stupid fucking ideas like this?” Tormund asked Davos, unconvinced that their plan was wise.

“I've been failing at that job as of late.” Davos teased, making Jon smirk.

“How many queens are there now?” Tormund asked Jon,

“Two.” He responded,

“And you need to convince the one with dragons or the one who fucks her brother?” Tormund asked crudely but accurately.

“Both.” Jon held back a laugh,

“How many men did you bring?” Tormund asked again, attempting to understand how bad of an idea this was.

“Not enough.” Jon said, this had become a recurring issue.

“Not the armored woman?” Tormund asked like a whiny puppy, hoping you’d be joining.

Jon smiled and shook his head, as you were still back in Winterfell.

“You really want to go out there again?” Gentry said, “You’re not the only ones.”

The men at the table looked at him confused,

꒰ ୨୧ ─

Upon reaching Eastwatch-by-the-Sea, Sandor and the Brotherhood were taken by wildlings serving alongside the Night's Watch, and were held in the ice cells below the castle.

“My scouts found them a mile south of the Wall. Said they were on their way here.” The man said,

Jon looked at Sandor in the cell, “You’re the Hound, I saw you once at Winterfell.” Recognizing him instantly. Sandor sat up in his cell, not responding.

“They want to go beyond the wall too.” Gentry said angrily, untrusting of the Brotherhood.

“We don’t want to go beyond the Wall, we have to. Our Lord told us that the Great War is coming. It doesn’t matter what our reasons are, there is a greater purpose at work. And we serve it together, whether we know it or not.” Beric said standing, ready to give a speech, “We may take the steps but the Lord of Light–”

Sandor couldn’t take it anymore and interrupted, “For fuck’s sake will you shut your hole? Are we coming with you or not?”

꒰ ୨୧ ─ ・┈ ・ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ─ ・┈ ꒱꒱

NOTE: Hmmm seems like our pookie bear might just be approaching…. I hope you like this. I am treating it as a season finale bc there won't be an update until maybe 6/30.

K love you, xoxo

Bambi

Beloved Tags:

@dontfollowjuststuff @merfic @broadsdrinkwhisky @vikingswhore0

@the-queen-of-sorrows @eddiesbongwater @not-neverland06 @symonedoesart

@wyvernnest @bdudette @frosch-thefrog @patrick-hockstutter

@drymushroomfics @dream-a-little-nightmare

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minty-thereader · 10 days ago

Text

SANJI X READER

“Stupid Boyfriend Cook.”

POV: Sanji is out here just being Sanji, until he realizes his behavior can make any other guy swoop you off your feet. Like a rival.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When you first came into the crew as a member of the straw hats you started off as their chore girl, but you didn’t mind because you didn’t have to do a lot of combat. Unfortunately for you that changed when one night you were mopping the deck and a few thieves came on board to rob the place. As usual Zoro was sleeping so he didn’t notice, the one that did come to your rescue however was the cook, Sanji, who you didn’t entirely like because he’s a pervert.

Sanji saved your life, and stole your heart.

That’s your love story.

So why is it must you sit and endure this feeling of worthlessness as you watched your supposedly great boyfriend Sanji, chat it up with like 3 women, all triplets. Your stomach clenched every time you saw him gently rub one of their cheeks or when one of these women would twirl with a strand of his hair. “Oh Sanji, you’re so funny!~” The short haired triplet said as she cupped his chin. Sanji smiled with rosy cheeks, “ah? Well thank you doll. You have the most beautiful baby green eyes I’ve ever seen.”

You tried your best to not roll your eyes. It’s the same compliment he’d give you! I love your beautiful e/c eyes. What? Was that a lie? Seeing your stressed out displeased face a familiar teammate decided that he would stroll over your way. Zoro slid into the seat across from you, deliberately blocking your view of Sanji. He leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand, eyes narrowing as he took in your sulking expression.

“What’re you sulking over?” He asked with a tone like he didn’t wanna know but he was still curious. “Nothing..” you lie to his face. Like hell it was nothing. Your eyes were right stuck on the blonde flirt! “Yeah I’m not Luffy. I can tell when someone’s lying,” he tells you, picking up the glass of alcohol that sat in front of you. “Oh! Um Sanji made that for me—” “I don’t care.” He took a swing at it and placed the drink back down. “It’s mine now. Why would you sit and take shit from that stupid cook? Demand his attention or look like a fool. I know which option I’d pick.” This was the longest Zoro ever spoke to you! He never even looked your way much especially since you’re dating the guy he hated the most.

“Zoro..” He stayed silent, his eyes low and wandering. Way in the back (barely like 3 feet away) Sanji stopped paying attention to the three beauties that he let stray him away, turning around to talk to you only to see the moss headed rival of his blocking your view. The way Zoro’s body language wasn’t as hostile as he usually was made the cook cautious. What could you two be talking about?

Why is he even talking to you?

A strange dark emotion of jealousy tickled his veins and Sanji pulled his hand away from the long haired triplet’s grip. “Excuse me madam, I have a quick matter to attend to before I return to you.” The women giggled again and Sanji fixed his sky blue shirt before he strolled over to your table.

He attacked Zoro right away without holding back, his leg flying at him with dangerous speed, but the skilled swordsman saw that coming a mile away. Zoro was able to stop his kick without so much as looking back. “What’re you doing near my girl?” Sanji asked, putting his foot back down. “Keeping her company since you weren’t.” Zoro stood toe to toe with the cook before they both grunted and Zoro walked away.

“Gosh isn’t he a weirdo,” Sanji remarked sitting where Zoro was. At this point you didn’t even bother to pay attention to the blonde. “Y/n,” he reaches to grab your hand but you pull back with the same speed. “Go talk to your other bitches.” “Psh?! Other? HUH? Other bitches? Mon ami I have no such things!” Sanji grabs your hand preventing you from pulling away this time. “What’s wrong? Why are you acting like I’m the one person you don’t wanna be seen next to right now?” “Because you are Sanji. You’re so disrespectful, you know that? You left to get me some ice, I said okay cool! Sure! Then you got distracted like the man that you truly are and you start flirting with three women right in front of me. Not one but three. You can’t help yourself can you? You don’t care enough about me, clearly, if you can easily flirt with other women.” You pulled your arms to yourself, turning your head to the side so you didn’t face the man in front of you.

Sanji looked shocked, like he truly didn’t know what he was doing was wrong.

“I..I hurt you?” He asked with his hand running over his face. “Come on Sanji focus, you did hurt her,” he talked to himself. “Y/n, honey. I would never intentionally hurt you. I tell you this on my heart and if I’m lying may lightening strike me.” He raised his hand to his heart. “Baby I didn’t mean to do that to you, you have to believe me.”

Sanji was a flirt, that’s for sure, but one thing he wasn’t was a liar and a man to hurt women.

“You have to stop talking to other women. You’re with me now, you can’t go around flirting with every woman you meet.” You explained yourself. “It makes me feel small—” you were cut off by Sanji pulling you into a tight hug. “You are not small my love. I’m so sorry for being so dense and mindless in my actions. I will never talk to another woman ever again! No matter how beautiful!” He smiled gently at you. “You’re the only beauty for me.” You smiled back at him, forgiving the stupid cook.

“Okay…but you still have to interact with Nami.” “Oh yeah! Of course! I never meant EVERY woman!” He says with a laugh, and when the triplets approached him to talk again he immediately shooed them off with a, can’t you see me talking to this bombshell? Zoro watched from the sidelines too, shaking his head at his teammate.

#sanji x reader #opla sanji x reader #opla sanji #sanji x female reader

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yoonieper · 5 months ago

Text

For the Birds— Prologue | JJK

I want you to stay even though you don’t want me.

♡ Pairing: Jungkook x Reader (feat. Yuri)

♡ Genre: angst, smut, future fluff

♡ Rated: D for Disappointment

♡ Series Warnings: Lots of smut (not always healthy), cheating, discussions of depression, this series includes Jk in a pretty toxic environment, degradation (not the sexy kind), manipulation, and overall Jk being in an emotionally abusive situation! This chapter is not too bad, but please read with caution going forward!

♡ Chapter Warnings: Jk sad boy, Yuri being… :/, oral (f. receiving), masturbation (m)

♡ Word Count: 12.6k

♡ Summary: As the son of the CEO at Golden Tech, a marriage was arranged in the name of business. Jungkook really tried to make the most of his situation and be the best husband he could be, but no matter how much he tried, his wife just doesn’t seem to want him. Then you… you came into his life and his eyes couldn’t help but wander.

♡ Now Playing: LOVE. by Kendrick Lamar (feat. Zacari)– see masterlist for full playlist!

♡ Betas: Thank you so much to @illyrian-book-lover and @teawithhoneyandlemon for reading this part for me! If you’re interested in betaing future parts, dm me. If you're interested in becoming a permanent beta for this series please first click here and refer to 'details about the job' section for more details and dm for any questions you might have!

♡ Author’s Note: I’ve been working on this for a while, but I got sudden inspiration to finish the prologue~ This series should get pretty exciting, so stay tuned! ← Omg y’all the prologue has been in my drafts since 2020 :’) This series has gone through a lot of evolution that I might talk about in the future. This series is very different from where it started, but the prologue has always remained vastly the same, so it has a special place in my heart! Hope you enjoy the series my friends, this one is very emotional, so prepare for the rollercoaster ahead! I’m excited to show you what’s to come <3!

No reposting, modifying. Translating is not allowed unless given explicit permission. Thank you so much : D

main masterlist ✩ series masterlist » next chapter

“Secretary Yu, could you remind me of the schedule for the day?”Jungkook let his disgruntled sigh fill the room as he rubbed his temples, doing anything he could for a chance to soothe the subtle pounding in his head. Displeasure was painted all over his features, and his eyes were tightly closed while he listened to his assistant’s clicking heels stop in front of his desk.

The room was dark, but that hadn’t kept his retinas from burning any less as he looked at the woman in front of him— he didn’t know at this point if it was because of all the crying or the exhaustion from waking up so early. The day had only just begun, and he already wanted it to end; to just climb back in bed, sleep away his troubles, and forget everything that transpired over the last 24 hours. Hell, maybe there was still a chance he was asleep, and that this was all just a bad nightmare his brain had conjured up in nervousness.

“Director Jeon? I didn’t expect you to be in so early.” Secretary Yu Min-ju tried to smile but the furrowing of her eyebrows made it obvious she was a little confused. This hadn’t been part of the plan they discussed. Jungkook didn’t let the moment linger, instead, gave her a firm look of exasperation that made her hastily pull out her tablet to find his schedule.

Her usual cheerfulness was not what he needed today.

Min-ju couldn't stop the smile appearing on her face when she saw its rare emptiness. “Your hard work these past few days has paid off. Today is pretty light. A meeting with the financial team at 12, and then another meeting at 1pm with Mr. Cho. You should be able to go home after that.” The secretary warmly smiled.

Jungkook’s eyes drifted down to the picture sitting on his desk as she spoke. It was of him and his wife on their honeymoon last year to The Maldives. They had been walking on the beach and his mother had texted and begged for a picture of the new couple; Jungkook could do nothing but oblige. Yuri had clung onto his shoulders when he held up his phone, and upon counting down to one, gave him a surprise kiss on the cheek leading to Jungkook’s eager, unnaturally wide smile being captured forever and memorialized on his desk. He couldn’t help but frown.

He wanted to be excited, craved for it, yearned for it, but home was the last place he wanted to be right now. All that hard work for nothing. For once he wished he had more to do, anything to keep his mind busy.

“Didn’t I have deadlines for a few upcoming reports?” He suddenly questioned.

Min-ju looked farther down her list and she nodded. “There are a few documents that need reviewing and signatures, but a majority of them aren’t due till next week. But you don’t need to—“

“I’ll get them done today.” Jungkook’s tone was astoundingly emotionless, completely void of the delightful emotion he had spoken with in the days leading up to today. Min-ju was at a loss for words. She knew how hard he worked to free up his day for the special occasion. What's with the sudden change of plans? What happened?

It was Jungkook himself who had requested for her to try and free his schedule so he would be in the office for as little time as possible. There was no joy or giddiness behind his eyes like she had expected. Min-ju had pictured her boss walking in with a strange cheerfulness in his mood, rainbows and sparkles practically dancing around him as he skipped through the halls and greeted her good morning. But his tone lacked spirit altogether. Jungkook was like a husk compared to the person she said goodbye to the evening prior.

“I— uh alright, I’ll make sure to send them to you later sir.” Min-ju bowed, before she scrambled away.

Jungkook listened intently to the way her heels tentatively clicked while she walked out, it was at a certain speed that told him she was rushing to get out of there. As soon as the door closed behind her, he let out a loud sigh as he leaned back in his chair.

What a fucking disappointment this whole day turned out to be.

Jungkook had planned today to be one of the most preeminent days for him and his wife as a couple and those plans were all squashed within a second last night. It had been playing over and over in his head since he woke up this morning.

He tangled his hands in his hair, his grip growing tighter and tighter on his short locks as the reality of the situation hit him for the billionth time. It just wouldn’t stop, replaying in a loop hoping something might change. That he’d wake up from this nightmare, or maybe even realize something that in the heat of the moment had gone entirely unnoticed— anything to explain what happened. Last night still didn’t feel real.

The cancellation had been entirely unexpected.

•────•──────────•────•

Last night Jungkook had been in high spirits all day. A radiance was cast on his features by the pure, exorbitant elation flowing through his body. It was like the most beautiful display of fireworks were going off all at once, tickling his insides, and making the smile on his face grow so wide it hurt his cheeks but he couldn’t find it in him to stop. After all, tomorrow was going to be the turning point for their relationship. Something was about to happen, he was sure of it.

Jungkook was lying on their shared bed, having just recently come out from the shower. His hair was still slightly damp, and a giddy smile was plastered on his face as he scrolled through his phone. He was eagerly reviewing their itinerary for their plans tomorrow.

D-day. The day that Jungkook and his wife were meant to celebrate their one and a half year anniversary. It might be a weird occasion to commemorate, but after being apart for too many holidays and milestones for various reasons, Jungkook went out of his way and made it a point to plan something to make up for all the lost time.

He let his attention turn from his phone and settled on his wife who was meticulously going through her nightly routine at her vanity. His smile softened as he silently watched her dab night cream across her cheeks.

How was this his life?

Sometimes it was a little hard to believe Yuri was actually his wife, it was almost intimidating at how beautiful she was. Her eyes were round yet sharp in their gaze as she focused on the mirror. Her skin was usually so soft but it shined even more so at that moment from all the various oils and moisturizers she made sure to use every night. Her long, dark hair flowed nicely down her back but was pushed out of her face by a cute, fuzzy, gray headband. And even in pajamas, she managed to carry this level of elegance that pulled him in so easily.

Jungkook bit his lip to contain the smile that was threatening to envelop him entirely.

The outfit was especially a big deal. It was different from the shorts and tank tops she’d normally wear. It had been his idea to start the celebration with matching pajamas, a slight preview to the day he had planned for the both of them. Jungkook’s heart had hammered in his chest when Yuri relented and agreed to wear the set he had given to her before she went to shower. It matched his own exactly. It was nothing too special, but a nice way to bring them together before the big day. A simple, gray pajama-button-down-classic; the material was so soft and he knew Yuri would look just as amazing as it felt.

She always did.

His excitement was almost overflowing, Jungkook couldn’t stop himself from getting up so he was right behind her. He wrapped his arms around her small frame, and gently placed a quick peck on her neck.

“I’m so excited for tomorrow~” He hummed lightly into her skin.

Yuri didn’t say anything, her attention trained on her reflection.

“What about you? Are you looking forward to spending the day together and doing all the fun stuff I have planned?” He sang. As soon as the words left his mouth he knew it sounded cringey, but for once he didn’t care. He just wanted to hear it, that she was excited to be with him.

Yuri’s gaze eventually flickered over to him before she turned around to face him.

“Jungkook, I have to tell you something…“ She sighed. He tried to ignore his uneasy feeling about her tone.

“Oh, you did?” Jungkook attempted to fight back his disappointment. That wasn’t what he hoped she’d say.

“Yeah, I did,” she muttered. He hated the look on his face as he peered into the mirror. A slight frown had dimmed down his smile, and he wanted to do anything to wipe it away. There was no time for frowning, he didn’t want to ruin tomorrow before it even started. He shouldn’t overthink it.

“I had something I needed to mention too.” He went back over to the bed. “I wasn’t able to get out of my meetings tomorrow so I’ll have to go in for a few hours, but I promise I’ll come straight back here.” He had really tried, but there was no way to reschedule them any further into the week. At least that was the only thing on his agenda tomorrow, however, he had wanted to take the day off completely and spend it with his wife.

Jungkook saw Yuri’s face drop.

“Don't worry, I’ll be here all morning! I worked hard to clear my schedule as much as I could, it’ll just be two meetings and then I’m back.” He tried to smile. Hopefully, she wouldn’t mind the brief interruption too much.

“Actually—“ Yuri dragged it out as she looked back into the mirror to make sure she rubbed in the cream well, “I have plans tomorrow.” She put it frankly.

Jungkook blinked a couple of times before a look of confusion settled on his features. “Plans?” His voice had grown small. It didn’t have a reason to yet, but maybe all along he knew where this was going the minute she brought it up.

“I have a friend from when I went to school in the US coming to visit.” She mumbled. Jungkook couldn’t hide the disappointment from showing.

“Oh? Um…”

“We’re planning to spend some time together, so…”

“When will you guys be done?” He questioned, still a little shocked that she was just telling him about this now, the day before their plans. “Hopefully we can work around it. Maybe you guys could meet up while I’m gone so it doesn’t mess up—“

“Jungkook, this is going to be an all-day thing.” He could see the way Yuri watched his expression from the mirror as the gears started turning in his head, now realizing what that meant. The silence that settled in the room was painful.

“But… but we had plans.”

“I know we did, but—“

“But?! Yuri I told you weeks ago!” Jungkook retorted. He was angry now. He didn’t want to be angry.

“Weeks Yuri, weeks!” He continued, unable to process this was happening. There was no way she could have simply “forgotten” about the day they were supposed to spend together. He’d literally been talking about it since they both agreed to do this a few weeks ago.

“Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” He accused, confused how news like this would just go unsaid.

“She just called me two days ago,” Yuri argued, as if that would make this any better.

“Two days ago— and you didn’t say anything until now?” He was baffled. There was no excuse why she couldn’t have brought this up sooner.

“Well— look how you’re reacting.” She scoffed and crossed her arms.

That just set him off even more.

“How I’m reacting, Yuri?! We talked about this for weeks; it’s the only thing I’ve been talking about for the past few days. I’m sorry that I was excited to spend the day with my wife.” Jungkook exploded at her. He was furious, and he didn’t like it. This wasn’t how this day was supposed to go.

Yuri didn’t say anything but instead rolled her eyes.

“And you can’t just cancel?!” He finally asked, getting up and pacing around their shared room.

“Jungkook, she's my friend! I haven’t seen her in a while and—“

“But what about me?!” He snapped. The words seemed to hang in the air, a painful silence following it. Jungkook noticed the look on her face, and he sighed as he sat down at the edge of the bed so he was facing her. He ran his hands through his hair and took a couple deep breaths to get himself to calm down.

“I didn’t mean for it to come out like that… it’s just… Yuri, we've been married for a year and a half and I feel like I hardly know you. I know this is technically only meant to be business, but I thought we said we’d try and make this work.” He cried as he grabbed a hold of her hands. He looked her directly in the eyes, wanting her to know that he meant every word.

Was he really asking for too much?

“We’ve hardly gotten time together since our honeymoon. Our schedules are full, and I know that’s not our fault, but I just wanted some time alone with you even if it was only for a day.” He pleaded; the desperation was so evident in his voice. He felt pathetic.

“We can do that any day. My friend will only be here for the next two weeks.” Yuri acknowledged before she turned back to her vanity.

“And why can’t you just hang out another day?” He asked, defeat overtaking him and his efforts to convince her. There was no point really. It seemed she had already made up her mind.

“I said she’s leaving in two weeks. We only have a limited time to hang out before she’s catching a plane back to California. Besides, we can just do something after she leaves. We will have all the time in the world when she’s gone in two weeks.” Her words were punches straight to the heart. She always says that when she needs to cancel plans— that next week never comes.

Her excuse was ridiculous, but this wasn’t the first time it had happened. He’s used to it now and knows there isn’t really any point in trying to negotiate.

“Yuri, I have a business trip that week.”

“Well what about the—“ she was cut off.

“You have a shoot in Hawaii that week.” Jungkook just sighed and got back up to sit on his side of the bed. “We can just forget about it all together in that case.” He fumed as he flipped over, now too upset to even face her right now.

Part of him was hoping she’d just say “Never mind, I’ll just reschedule,” jump in the bed and cuddle with him because she realized just how much this meant to him, to herself, and to them both as a couple. Everything would be fine and–

But no… Yuri just sat there, seemingly unaffected by the cancellation of their plans.

He began to think it was a little sad at how upset he was. Yuri didn’t care; maybe he truly had made this a bigger deal than it needed to be. She was right in some sense— they live together and can plan something any day of the year.

But it still hurt that just for this one day, Yuri didn’t want to spend time with him.

•────•──────────•────•

It did not get any better the next day. He woke up in a bad mood. She wasn’t even there in the morning. Everything just made him upset: Yuri’s cold, empty side of the bed, he forgot to turn off his alarm so he missed his opportunity to sleep in, and he nearly slipped in the shower as he was ranting to himself about how dumb this was. Their annoying, squeaky bedroom door that Jungkook’s been meaning to call someone about. Even the milk for his cereal pissed him off because he asked Yuri last night to pick up more while she was out but of course, she forgot, and he forgot to tell their cook about it thinking she’d get it, so he only had a little left for his breakfast this morning.

The last place he wanted to be was at their apartment so he left for work as soon as he was ready.

Jungkook took out his phone knowing he had some time to kill and he needed someone to rant to or else he was going to go crazy. A few minutes later, like the trusty friend he was, Jimin was bursting through the door like he was the Kool Aid man, ready to listen to all of Jungkook’s problems.

“Ok, who’s ass do I need to kick?” Jimin came in, hands up, ready to fight– which might have been Jungkook’s fault with the ambiguous text he sent to his hyung. Saying “the world’s ending, need help now!” might have been a little too drastic, but it felt appropriate at the moment.

“Mine...” Jungkook groaned, his head was on the desk but he could hear Jimin’s footsteps hurrying over, before taking a seat in the chair in front of his desk. This was routine at this point.

The two of them had been friends for a number of years now. Jimin was two years older than Jungkook and had mainly been friends with his brother at first. But when Junghyeon left, apparently he decided he needed to leave his big brother duties to someone, and he thought who else would be a better fit to watch over him than Park Jimin? Those were Junghyeon’s words when Jungkook first mentioned that he was getting close to his old friend. Jimin occasionally checked up on him when he was still in high school, and their bond grew really strong soon after Jungkook had started college. Jimin became his guide as he navigated adult life and a very real friendship was born from his brother’s efforts.

When Jimin graduated, it only felt natural for Jungkook to extend an invitation to work at his family’s company, knowing how good of an addition he would be to the team. As of about three and a half years ago, they’ve also been work buddies.

“So,” Jimin stretched it out. “What is it this time?” He asked when Jungkook still hadn’t said anything.

Silence followed.

“Is this about Yuri?” Jimin finally questioned, that being the most obvious, considering Jungkook shouldn’t even be in right now.

The younger man nodded.

Jimin hummed as he thought about it for a second. “Ok, is this another rant about your sex life because I have some—“

“No, no, no, well… maybe, yes? I don’t know hyung, I'm just…” All Jungkook could do was sigh, his frustration getting to a boiling point again.

“I’m guessing with the way you’re acting, things didn’t go as planned…?” Jimin asked wearily, knowing precisely what Jungkook had in store for today. He’d helped Jungkook plan it out. The first thing that was supposed to be on the itinerary was waking Yuri up with a good time. Jimin was the one to suggest it, but the fact he was in a bad mood was enough to let him know things hadn’t gone the way that they’d discussed.

“The whole plan didn’t happen,” Jungkook lamented as he leaned back in his office chair. He could feel Jimin’s confusion without even having to look at him. “She canceled our whole day because of a friend visiting from the US.” He scowled and saying it out loud made it sound even more unreal.

Jimin blinked a couple of times, obviously just as confused as he was. “A friend?”

“It’s something she knew about two days ago before even bringing it up last night. It wasn’t even a full day before our plans!” At least he could’ve gotten a heads-up. He wasn’t sure what that would have done, but at least he could have had more time to cope with the disappointment.

“What?” Jimin questioned in disbelief.

“And maybe, maybe I’d get it if today was the only day they could hang out, but she said they’re going to be here for the next two weeks.” Jungkook was getting angry all over again.

“I’m sorry, what?” Jimin repeated, honestly just baffled.

“And! And when I asked her why they can’t just hang out the next day, she said it’s because they’re only here for a limited time and that we can just hang out whenever!” It didn’t make any sense that she would say that when Jungkook had to spend days working into the early hours of the morning trying to clear his schedule enough so that they could have some time together.

“What the fuck…” Jimin looked just as confused as he felt.

“I know, it’s ridiculous…” He trailed off with a laugh, but the pain from the sudden cancellation made it hard to even pretend this was anywhere near comical.

“Jungkook, I think that’s a lot more than ridiculous…” Jimin tried to reassure, his tone quickly turning sympathetic.

“I know we’re arranged, but I just… I thought being married would be more than this, you know?” He leaned back in his chair. Jungkook simply had dreams for his future and this wasn’t anything he pictured it would look like.

“And there’s nothing wrong with that. You both agreed to try and she has never given you a reason why she’s practically avoiding you.” Jimin said, recounting the fact this wasn’t even the first time something like this has happened.

“I’m wondering if it’s me. Maybe I’m not doing enough or maybe I’m doing it all wrong? Right? It had to be something I did.” Jungkook tried to rack his brain, thinking of anything he did that might have made Yuri so upset at him.

“I don’t think it’s your fault. You’re trying your best. It doesn’t make sense to me why she did this. It wouldn’t make sense to anyone, but I don’t know… maybe she wants her space.” Jimin suggested, it being the only explanation he could come up with to make sense of her behavior.

The words sat in the air for a second, a painful second, like the wrong note reverberating at the end of a musical piece. Jimin didn’t notice the shift fast enough before Jungkook suddenly sat up to look at him, and his brows were furrowed like what he said was crazy.

“Space? We have space all the time, this was the one day I wanted us to be a couple— or at least try and be a couple.” Jungkook chided and Jimin immediately knew he didn’t phrase that in the best way.

“I meant it more so for yourself. I’ve seen and been in enough relationships, situationships, you name it, to know when to back away. Things are obviously going to be even more complicated because you’re in an arranged marriage. I can’t imagine what you’re going through, but maybe taking a step back so you don’t get hurt is something to think about.” Jimin laid it out plainly, but Jungkook maintained his hard expression. If anything, he seemed even more displeased.

“I have to make this work. I’m obviously not doing what she wants!” Jungkook seethed.

“We have no idea what’s going on. I’m just trying to stop you from getting hurt.” Jimin's gaze filled with sympathy, but Jungkook just seemed to grow more angered as he rolled his eyes at him.

“Like you would understand— everyone wants to be around you.” Jungkook scoffed, turning away.

Jimin sat there for a second, dumbfounded, wondering where that came from.

“What are you talking about?”

“Everyone likes you! Everyone practically flocks to be around you. You have no trouble in relationships– yet I can’t even make the one woman I’m married to at least be comfortable by my side.” Jungkook cried out, and it was here that any anger that was threatening to boil over cooled the minute Jimin saw the wetness in his eyes.

Jimin had only been a bystander for the last few years in Jungkook’s life, but he could hardly comprehend this was the same man he’d been friends with for years now.

Jungkook had gone from the guy who shied away from relationships, to suddenly being the only married man in his friend group.

He could never forget the day that Jungkook came to his apartment late one night, it felt like forever ago now. Those were different times; they weren’t the same people anymore. His eyes had been wide and petrified, like he’d just seen a ghost. It practically took the whole night to get it out of him that apparently his parents had made some kind of deal and were basically forcing him to get married to solidify it.

Jimin could hardly keep up after he’d finally managed to get him to speak, and a lot of it went over his head. To be honest he didn’t believe it even after Jungkook explained it over and over again. It didn’t sound real. Whose parents would make their twenty-two year old son get married without at least talking to him first? It didn’t make sense.

It also didn’t make any sense considering Jimin had been the listening ear to how well their three dates– yes only three dates– went before the engagement.

“They were ok.” Jungkook would sigh, before showing a picture of her and talking about how much he struggled to say anything because of how nervous she made him.

In the months leading up to the marriage, Jungkook had eventually heard the details of the deal, and that’s when the mood started to shift. Jungkook’s protests grew quieter to the point the wedding day managed to come and go without any intervention. Jimin still didn’t believe it, even as he saw Jungkook stand at the end of the aisle, even as he watched them get pronounced husband and wife, even as he witnessed the contract getting stamped, and even as he helped Jungkook pack to move to their new shared apartment after they came back from their honeymoon.

It didn’t feel real, but Jimin tried to remain as optimistic as Jungkook appeared when he came back.

“We said we’d try.” Jungkook told him with a toothy grin. The honeymoon had been good apparently.

But that optimism was short-lived and Jimin was forced to sit back and watch as something in his friend shifted. Things weren’t right in the relationship, that much he was sure of. Jungkook had finally said something towards the beginning of the year. It was small things at first, things Jungkook made sound like the typical lovers’ quarrel. But as time passed, it grew more vague, unusual, and desolate. It was never detailed enough for him to get the full picture, but he could see the way Jungkook was practically deteriorating right in front of him.

He had no idea what was going on, but it was moments like this that made his blood boil. Jungkook was normally a closed-off person. He didn’t share his problems with others easily. For him to come to Jimin to talk about his issues in his marriage made him wonder how bad the situation truly was. The alarm bells wouldn’t stop going off in his head.

“Jungkook, what’s going on?” Jimin sat up and rubbed his friend’s back. Jungkook’s office was dark but when he lifted his head, Jimin could see that the tears had finally started running down his cheeks.

“Hyung, it’s me right?! I don’t understand why she… w-why she…” He stammered. The words caused the emotions he’d bottled up to spill over, and the tears became uncontrollable.

“I must be doing everything wrong, right? Am I really that bad? I just… I just wanted to spend some time together. Am I really that bad of a husband?! I try so fucking hard, I swear I do, I just— Hyung I don’t know what else to do…” Jungkook ranted, sounding so dejected.

Jimin only felt the fire burn harder while his brain worked to try and understand Yuri. He wanted to give her the benefit of the doubt, that there had to be some rational explanation that he just wasn’t seeing that would explain why every chance Jungkook made plans for them to be together, something had to get in the way. The only thing he could see was how much this affected Jungkook, and she was starting to piss him off.

He got up and went behind Jungkook's desk so he could give him a hug, the younger man only sobbing even harder in his arms. Jimin didn’t say anything, instead ran slow, comforting circles over his back.

Jimin couldn’t help but think that he needed to talk with Yuri. They weren’t close but hopefully they’ve met on enough occasions that he could have a comfortable conversation with her to at least get her side of the story. It would be the opportunity to try and get the chance to understand what was going on. Maybe then he could actually help Jungkook try and win her over.

The moment was interrupted by the blaring ring of the phone that sat on Jungkook’s desk, letting them know that Secretary Yu was calling. Jungkook quickly tried to wipe his eyes, doing his best to pull himself together, but Jimin stopped him in his tracks, already picking up the phone before he could object.

“Hi Secretary Yu~” Jimin chirped, putting on that notorious charm that so easily put people at ease. “Yeah it’s Jimin, I’m taking over the phone for this one….. uh huh, right, wait but I thought— ohhhh, really…?… I see….. Yeah, I’ll let him know, he’s right next to me…. Nice talking with you…. bye.” Jimin frowned as soon as he put the phone down.

“She said we have a meeting we need to go to. Apparently, finance has an emergency that we have to oversee.” His eyes remained trained on Jungkook as he grabbed some tissues, seemingly trying his best to switch back to boss mode.

“Sorry, I probably look very pathetic right now,” Jungkook sadly chuckled as he wiped his eyes, but Jimin wasn’t having it.

“Stop calling yourself pathetic. It’s alright. Cry as much as you need to,” Jimin attempted to reassure him when he noticed Jungkook’s lip still quivering. He looked like he was on the verge of another breakdown. “Don’t push yourself, we still have a few minutes before the meeting starts.” He tried to get Jungkook to slow down but he was already up and out of his chair.

“I’m fine… I just really needed that. This will be good, don't worry.” Part of Jungkook wondered if he was trying to convince Jimin or himself.

He walked over to a mirror. “Are my eyes red?” Jungkook questioned, worried that it looked like he had been crying his eyes out.

Jimin walked over and shook his head. “Just a little, but no one will notice unless they knew what you were doing.”

He nodded, affirmed. “Ok, let’s do this.”

With that, Jungkook pushed through the door, passing Secretary Yu’s desk as she got up to join him, along with various higher up employees who had gotten the message about the meeting.

Secretary Yu pulled out her tablet and moved a little closer. “Director Jeon, I just wanted to quickly give you a better brief of the situation before the meeting starts.”

“Go ahead…” Jungkook’s voice was shaky, but he hoped she didn’t notice.

“Production had encountered an unexpected issue. Good news is that it has been solved already so there’s no need to worry about it. The bad news is that we can’t use any of the inventory they made prior to the fix.” Secretary Yu tried to speak calmly but grimaced when she noticed the change in her boss’s demeanor.

Jungkook’s eyes widened, and he stopped dead in his tracks. All the executives that were walking behind them came to a sudden halt along with him, making everyone nearly bump into each other.

“Wait, what?! But production had been running for–” Jungkook didn’t need to finish that, already knowing the answer. It was far too long and their launch date was about a month away.

This was bad.

“What was the issue?”

“I’m not sure yet—“ The ‘what’ didn’t really matter right now, all that meant was this launch was screwed.

Launches were some of the most important moments of the year. The fact it had been slated for the last quarter of the year, the most important quarter for a company like theirs in turning up profit, they had been counting on it even more than normal. This put everything in jeopardy, particularly anything they had planned for next year. This line had already been delayed to the utmost limit because of numerous other complications so delaying it was almost entirely off the table.

“Just great huh. Really fucking great. This day can’t get any worse can it—“ And he should have learned that words like that challenge the universe to see what other shit it could throw at you.

They finally picked up their hurried pace to the meeting room, but right as Jungkook rounded the corner he collided with something hard and suddenly he was cold and soaking wet. Jungkook just stared down, his suit covered in what he could immediately smell was coffee. A sliver of luck for him was that it was iced, but that didn’t stop him from being covered in coffee— he could only imagine the stains on the beige fabric.

Part of him wanted to scream but as his eyes trailed up to see a woman frantically picking up the cup and her scared, apologetic eyes when she realized it was all over him, he found himself unable to speak. Jungkook immediately knew he had never seen you before; he would have remembered you.

Your red blouse was tucked into your short pencil skirt, which perfectly fitted to your form. Your legs were long as you stood up, accentuated even more by your tall, black stilettos, and Jungkook couldn’t stop the way his eyes ran over the exposed skin. What seemed to hold his attention the most was your vibrant, red lipstick. For a second he was left a little dumbstruck and forgot about the coffee that was everywhere. You were beautiful, ridiculously beautiful, it was almost crazy. For a second he wondered why you were here and not walking down some runway or the face of every brand imaginable.

He would have noted this a lot more if he didn’t have coffee soaking into his clothes. Right now he just saw you as another problem, making his day that much worse. It was one of his favorite suits too, he wore it to make himself feel a little better about today, but you…

Things just can’t get any worse.

•────•──────────•────•

This can’t be real.

It was your first day and all your worst fears seemed to be manifesting. You slept through your alarm, you missed your bus, and your much needed caffeine was all over this handsome stranger— though you really couldn’t say you saw that one coming. The embarrassment you felt creeping onto your cheeks in front of all the people staring at you in the hallway was enough to melt you into a puddle. Worst of all, your supervisor who was walking right next to you saw everything.

It couldn’t get much worse.

“I’ll clean this up. I’m so sorry! I should have paid more attention to where I was going!” You panicked as you scrambled to find something to help fix this. You looked to your supervisor, but he seemed even more distressed than you for some reason.

You finally turned back to the stranger and his gaze met your own for a brief moment. His eyes were wide and looked almost like a kicked puppy at how much sadness filled them for a split second. It really was only a second before you noticed the more expected glare of annoyance.

“Just,” He sighed. “Clean this up, okay? Director Son, please tell the team I’ll be a bit late. Hyung, can you…?” Jimin quickly nodded before speeding away.

Jungkook just walked past them, not bothering to acknowledge anyone any further. In truth, he was a second away from bursting into tears again, but they didn’t need to know that. Instead, he just hurried off to the bathroom and waited for Jimin to bring the spare suit he kept for emergencies such as these.

It seemed things could get worse.

Your eyes were wide as you watched him swiftly walk past you, not even bothering to look at you. You knew he had every right to be upset, but he was a bit rude. It was clearly an accident and he didn’t even give you time to apologize properly.

“Yah, what’s up with that guy?” You mumbled. His annoyance had been a disease and it was quickly spreading.

“That guy?! Y/n do you know what you just did?!” Your new boss was clearly exasperated and that just made you a little confused. It was then you noticed everyone who was still in the hallway had their eyes on you, their hands were over their mouths, and they all had this look of horror on their faces like you had just committed the worst crime imaginable.

“Who was that…?” You finally questioned, your heart already beating out of your chest.

“I swear you’re going to get us both fired and you only just got here. I swear…” Director Son rubbed his temples and cursed silently to himself, a look of worry speedily etched its way into his features.

“Director Son, what did I just do?” You asked, growing even more anxious. He finally turned to face you.

“Y/n, that was Jeon Jungkook.”

You still looked confused and this made him laugh— a worried, nervous laugh that made you know you had royally fucked up.

“You just spilled coffee all over the CEO’s son.” He put it plainly. It was only then that the pieces of the puzzle came together and started to make sense.

What….have…you……done?

“That’s my boss, your boss, everyone who works on this floor’s boss.” The words only seemed to set the reality into both of you.

“We’re going to have to pray. Get on our hands and knees, beg for forgiveness, and hope he doesn’t fire us or tell his father.” Suddenly, Director Son sprinted to the office area and returned with a bunch of napkins.

“We have to see him in the meeting too. What am I going to do?” Director Son said with apprehension, throwing his hands up in the air. He already had so much bad news to deliver and now his newest employee had spilled coffee all over his boss.

He was fired for sure.

You hurriedly went to help him start cleaning up the coffee, but you were barely paying attention. You were just dazed because, at this point, you were convinced you were about to get fired on your first day.

Suddenly, someone else was coming up beside you. “What a great entrance, huh?” A deep voice chuckled as he put more napkins on the ground.

“It’s only my first day and I’m already ruining everything.” You huffed, getting the feeling you wouldn’t be here much longer.

“You have to admit it was pretty funny~”

You stopped. “No, it wasn’t. Do you know how humiliating that was?!” You finally turned to see yet another handsome stranger, but this time this guy had a warm, welcoming, boxy smile on his face.

“I do, but it made my day better. Nice to meet you, I’m Kim Taehyung!” He stretched out his hand.

You smiled weakly, feeling better that someone could laugh about this. “I’m Y/n. Nice to meet you Taehyung.” You said as you quickly shook his hand.

•────•──────────•────•

Jimin burst through the doors, emergency suit already in hand.

“You alright?” Jimin questioned as he set the suit on the counter.

Jungkook turned toward him, clearly teary-eyed. He shook his head. “I just want to go home.” He tried to laugh as he started unbuttoning his shirt. He would have been better off not coming in today.

“Maybe you should. Today just doesn’t seem to be your day, huh?” Jimin tried to joke and smiled when he saw Jungkook chuckle.

“I have meetings later though. I have to stay till then.” He just sighed. Jungkook had already felt guilty about leaving and hardly being at work today because of his plans with Yuri, but going home right now seemed selfish considering the dire situation. He didn’t want people to think he was running away and leaving them to deal with this mess alone. It’s not like he had anyone waiting for him back home anyway. There was no need to rush anymore.

Jungkook spent most of his time at the office more than at home. He wanted to show that he was working hard, it was something he knew was essential to gaining everyone’s trust. Since he was still pretty young, people often doubted his leadership, but he earned his spot in the company just like everyone else did. Jungkook had been working here since he was nineteen, interned even longer, and started off at the bottom like everyone else. He didn’t want to be the spoiled, rich kid inheriting the company simply because his father is the CEO. He wanted to make sure that by the time he became CEO he would have built up the same respect that the rest of the employees held for his dad.

As a result, leaving earlier or taking days off was something he tried to steer clear of as much as possible, but today… things just weren’t working out. He feared that being here any longer might make him explode.

Once they figure out this whole situation, he’ll immediately go home after his last two meetings are over. Right, that was the smart thing to do. He couldn’t risk having a breakdown in front of everyone.

“Hyung…” Jungkook said suddenly after he managed to get his pants up. Jimin hummed. “Thanks for being here with me.” His voice wavered slightly.

“Of course, I’ll always be here when you need me.” Jimin said softly. Jungkook was extra sensitive today. He usually was able to reserve the waterworks for sad movies or when he was alone in the apartment, but today he couldn’t seem to keep his emotions at bay.

When they both came out of the bathroom, Jungkook and Jimin hurried to the meeting room ready to assess the current crisis at hand. Everyone was already in their seats when they walked in, and upon seeing Jungkook, they scrambled out their chairs to stand up and bow.

Jungkook took a seat at the head of the table and Jimin in the seat to his left. Director Son was already standing at the pedestal in the corner of the room with a gloomy expression practically carved into his features. This was probably even worse than what he was told, judging by the solemn tone of the room.

He was antsy to hear just how bad it was, and was about to tell Director Son to continue, when he spotted you at the end of the table.

“Director Son,” Jungkook said, curiosity peaking. He knew pretty much everyone who worked on this floor, but you were definitely not familiar.

“Who’s she?” He pointed directly at you, making your attention turn toward him.

Director Son scrambled from behind the pedestal, realizing he had forgotten to introduce you because of the incident earlier.

“My apologies, sir.” Director Son addressed Jungkook before turning towards you and motioning for you to stand. You quickly bounced on your heels, not wanting to piss him off even more. If Jungkook didn’t fire you, surely he would.

“Everyone, this is L/n Y/n. She’s our newest member of our financial team. It’s her first day here.” Everyone gave you strange looks as most people here at this table had witnessed the incident earlier.

It’s like you made the worst first impression you possibly could have.

The silence was deafening as everyone stared; you were tempted to run away, fake your death, get a new identity, and attempt to start your life over knowing things couldn’t get much worse than this. It took a moment, but eventually Taehyung, who sat right beside you, started clapping— slowly but surely everyone joined him. You looked down and smiled, mouthing him a thank you before you sat down.

Your eyes flickered over to Jungkook who was still staring at you. Your skin warmed as his gaze bored into you.

“Thank you, you may begin.” Jungkook finally said, leaning back in his chair.

A new line of products was supposed to be released shortly before the holiday season— namely a new line of TVs that had already been delayed multiple times, all for various reasons during development. They had been forced to push the date back as far as possible, right to the point before there would start to be major repercussions. Production had promised that they would be able to meet this new date, and production began a few weeks ago. Jungkook had thought the most troubling stage was over and the only thing that was left was handling this launch with the marketing team now. But a malfunction that was only realized this morning had been noticed, and all of the inventory they had managed to produce before today was completely unusable.

To make matters worse, the date they needed to have everything shipped out by was too close to have the now scarce inventory hit even the low range of their planned profit margin. It was a disaster and after Director Son explained the issue, Jungkook was ready to pull out his hair. Of course this had to happen today, of all the fucking days everything just had to go wrong. He couldn’t even think straight as everyone around the table started suggesting ideas, too busy trying to pull himself out of the funk that made him practically useless. He was convinced he was cursed, that had to be it because how does this all happen in one day?

This fuck up jeopardized everything— it was their biggest source of profit for the year and they thought they’d be able to make up for all the delays by having it at such an important part of the year. They already decided to invest extra in advertising to help boost sales far beyond what they’d traditionally expect. Now without the numbers they had planned for, the profit they had wanted to reach was virtually impossible. This was detrimental to next quarters budget and especially the following year. Any plans, projects, anything they had planned was now at risk, and—

The meeting ended up going on for quite a while. Everyone panicked as they tried brainstorming ideas that could be used to rectify the situation:

Some suggested seeing if they could push the launch back, but at this point that was even more disastrous than just releasing whatever they can manage to get done. Others suggested that this fell on production and that they should use intimidation to try and make the numbers get as close to what was planned. Jungkook normally was against ideas like that, but it was mind boggling how poorly these products had been handled so far. He had already been planning to meet with the executives over at the factories to figure out who he needed to hold liable for this. Others went on about distribution, how their department who handled Seoul, should be prioritized and that they should focus on the bigger stores, such as malls, in order to hopefully increase the chances of selling everything they could to at least get the highest profit they can. It went on and on. Another radical suggestion was increasing the price of the line of TVs to try and force a similar profit margin.

People just kept going and going and Jungkook was ready to bang his head against the table to hopefully get himself to wake up from this nightmare. Everyone was so loud as they bickered and fought that their way was better, and he tried his best to suppress wanting to just scream for them to just shut up and walk away from the situation all together. He was overwhelmed and it was even worse that he felt unhelpful, all efforts went to keeping himself firmly planted in his chair and not letting the tears spill over again.

What ended up surprising him was that it was you who came up with the best solution. In between all the nonsense, you were also very vocal during the meeting. You were knowledgeable as you spoke, asking questions any time you could and also giving your two-sense on the suggestions the rest of the team kept spewing out. Most of your takes he found himself easily agreeing with as you countered how none of those ideas worked. If Jungkook hadn’t encountered you before, he wouldn’t have guessed you were the same clumsy woman who spilled coffee on him earlier today. It was absolutely shocking considering the fact that today was your first day and you had only been briefly filled in on the situation.

Eventually though you had given your own opinion and one that stood out from the masses.

“Do nothing.” You had put it so simply. You argued that there was nothing that could be done and instead that they should just send out the inventory they created after today, though less of it, as planned and capitalize on the opportunity to create even more demand for the line. If production could get their shit together and deliver the product as promised, plus with the added reputation of the company, they should certainly sell, and sell quickly. While this would not prove fruitful immediately, during the time they would work on getting the next shipment together, this would create a demand that would hopefully be able to make up for any losses encountered during the launch.

It wasn’t the best considering what they had thought this new launch would bring, but it was the best idea he heard all afternoon, and the one he ultimately picked they should explore further. The team first had to crunch the numbers to make sure they could afford that type of risk, but at the moment, waiting, letting the scarcity create demand, and gently still pushing the production team to try and get the inventory as high as possible, was what he sent everyone away with in mind.

Jungkook wanted to hate you, you had basically ruined his favorite suit, but seeing you in this meeting had him momentarily forgetting about the incident in the hallway. He never really considered firing you. Despite being incredibly petty about the suit, he didn’t want to take his anger out on you or Director Son. This meeting just made him realize how great of an addition you would likely be for the team. If this was your first day and you had already managed to help work out a crisis, he could only imagine what you would do for the team’s future.

But today just wasn’t the day he could forgive you completely.

Thanks to you he was able to go home around the time he had planned. Since the entire financial team was there, they were quickly able to cover the points of their original meeting that was scheduled, and he ran off directly afterward to meet with Director Cho in his office for a discussion about marketing. It was still in the afternoon by the time he got back to the apartment. Part of him hoped he would find Yuri waiting for him with open arms, and they would leave together to start their day as he had planned.

It was wishful thinking, but that didn’t stop the disappointment from burning his heart when he came back to find it exactly how he had expected.

Empty.

Jungkook sighed and kicked off his shoes. Today was horrible.

He was about to head straight for the beer they kept in the fridge, but the various ingredients he found inside gave him an idea. If he didn’t try at all, how would he ever make this work? As much as Yuri hurt his feelings, he would still put on a happy face and be a good husband.

He got straight to work, tying up his apron and rolling up his sleeves.

Jungkook first contemplated what should make, and he decided pretty quickly once he double-checked what they had. Then he moved on to pulling out all the ingredients and putting them onto the counter.

He wasn’t a master chef or anything, Jungkook had hardly cooked for himself his entire life— his parents always had a chef to prepare their meals. It was when he moved out that he realized how much he enjoyed it. It wasn’t too often that he cooked, but when he did, it always brought him so much satisfaction knowing he made it. Not to brag, but despite his lack of experience, Jungkook could easily follow a recipe and turn out with something pretty decent at the end.

He decided to go with gimbap— it was relatively easy to make and increased his chances of not messing it up. By the time he had the rolls cut and ready on the plate, the sun had gone down.

Jungkook smiled as he looked at his creation. It was a little misshapen and the ingredients were spilling out from the sides, but he had high hopes on how it’d taste; he’d thrown in all of his favorite ingredients. It was cute and showed it was made by his own hands. He hoped this would be enough for them to at least spend a little time together when she got home.

He sent her a quick text telling her about a ‘little surprise’ waiting for her at the apartment and to hurry home as soon as she could. He even added a heart at the end, a sign of peace, so they could put what the day could have been behind them and move on to shaping what they could make of it now.

Jungkook let out a satisfied sigh before taking off his apron, grabbing one of the nicer containers they owned, placing the food inside, and setting it on the dining table ready to be eaten whenever Yuri came back.

He hoped this would be enough to get her to come home soon.

He changed into more relaxing clothes and headed straight to the couch, deciding to continue that show he had started a little while back. He hadn’t planned to be here long; for some reason, he pictured Yuri bursting through the doors at any second, but he should have known he would end up disappointed yet again.

After more time passed, Jungkook eventually pulled out his ice cream and the beer he’d promised himself not to go for.

He was depressed. It was worse than when he was in his office earlier. He wanted home to be his escape from the day he had, but it only made the problem worse just like he feared. All he could do was drown out his darkening thoughts with comfort cream and beer.

Even more time passed by and there was still no Yuri. At this point, Jungkook had to call Jimin knowing he couldn’t be alone right now. He was on the verge of another breakdown.

True to his nature, his hyung was at their apartment in no time.

Jimin’s face fell the minute Jungkook opened the door. His friend looked even worse than when he left the office, his eyes were lifeless behind the smile he tried to show. It hurt even worse when he noticed the uneaten dinner on the dining table. He could see Jungkook had pulled out all the fancy candles, plates, and silverware, but they remained untouched; clearly, he was waiting.

“Sorry I called you so late… I just didn't want to be alone right now.” It was more than that, and Jimin knew it.

In truth, the thoughts that seemed to keep echoing in his head worried him. Not even his favorite movie could take his attention away from the harsh realization of what he was facing right now. He knew not even Yuri coming home at that very moment would solve everything. He just needed someone to talk to, someone to distract him from his thoughts.

Jimin pulled him into a hug before guiding them inside. They both ended up sharing a few beers together, Jungkook venting nearly the entire time. It was good and played as the much needed therapy he wanted.

It was well into the night that after a few crying sessions and more beers, Jungkook was tipsy and better enough to send Jimin away.

It was late, really, really late.

He sent a few more texts to Yuri, now starting to get worried. None of them were answered.

The only thing that kept him sane was the fact that this wasn’t the first time it’s happened. She’d ghosted him before, leading Jungkook to nearly have a panic attack before she came back, claiming her phone had died. He just hoped maybe that’s what happened today.

More time passed by and his eyes started getting heavy as he continued to stare at his TV. He probably would have fallen asleep if it wasn’t for the sound of beeps from someone putting in the passcode for the door.

Jungkook sprung off of the couch as the door opened to reveal the girl he’d been wanting to see the entire day. Yuri slowly closed the door behind her, probably thinking he was asleep. All the lights were off except for the TV.

“Yuri?” He asked hesitantly, a bit scared he was dreaming.

She quickly turned around as soon as she heard his voice.

Part of him was tempted to yell, even scream at her for abandoning him the way she did, but he was in no mood to pick a fight. Instead, he steadily waddled over to the front door where she was standing, careful not to bump into any furniture but the room had started to spin.

Jungkook was a bit stunned when he noticed her outfit. It was dark, but he could still see she was wearing this short, little red dress that seemed to sparkle even in the darkness. He had a feeling that she and this mysterious “friend from the US” had probably gone out to a club. He didn’t even feel like interrogating her. Nope, instead he finally made his way over, wrapped his arms around her frame, buried his face into her shoulder, and bathed in her warmth.

Maybe he was a little more than tipsy…

“Missed you so much…” he whispered quietly into her skin as he placed gentle kisses on her shoulder, the slur in his words even noticeable to his ears.

Jungkook felt her arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, a wave of excitement that he’d been missing all day washed over him.

“Did you really?” She lulled like a siren’s song, leading him down a path to forget everything that happened. He wanted to say something, but being drunk left him unable to form any cohesive thoughts to convey his feelings; the hurt he felt being abandoned, how much had he wished he spent this entire day running around Seoul with her by his side, how much had he hoped she would just come home so they could, at the very least, share a meal together. All of these moments, memories, time, and energy wasted.

But he didn’t want to turn this into another fight, instead he just nodded into her skin. “So fucking much.” It was a little more crude than the romantic declaration he was going for, but it didn’t matter. He meant what he said, he really did miss her.

Yuri hummed lightly into his ear, and he couldn't stop himself from pressing her against the wall, pulling back slightly so they were eye to eye, and resting his forehead against hers. Her presence was intoxicating, in a way that made all the worries so easily wash away. He was supposed to be mad, he had every right to be, but for some reason that didn’t stop his hand from coming up and his thumb gently caressing her cheek; so soft and warm.

He was definitely more than a little drunk at this point. Not to the point he was confused where he was, but he was faded enough to be wobbly on his feet, and the liquid courage was certainly flowing through his system to make him bolder than usual.

A moment passed, one that if he was more sober, he would have thought through more. Did he want this? Should he turn back? But whatever he felt in the past, it didn’t really matter anymore. His wife was here now, he should be happy.

If he was questioning it anymore, the look in her eyes was enough for that seesaw to finally land. It was sultry, like she wanted him to forget and he wanted to as well.

Jungkook felt the rush surge faster than any rational thought could stop, his lips were on hers in a haste to finally feel her. It was slow at first, Jungkook wanting her to know just how much he wanted her to be here with him. It made him feel so warm, the affection he’d been craving for all day was finally happening.

He couldn’t stop himself from pushing her further into the door and picking up the pace. It all happened so fast.

Suddenly his tongue was down her throat, he could taste the sweet alcohol she had probably drank, and with the fleeting reminder of the dress she was wearing as his hands ran up her thighs, an odd sense of possessiveness came over him. He had no idea who she was with, if this “friend from the US” even existed, but he had the odd feeling of making her remember exactly who she was to him. She was his wife, everyone, everywhere should know that.

Jungkook hastily picked her up and put her on the kitchen counter that was closest to him. His hands roamed her sides, tracing every curve with a hunger and need that saw no end. Soft sighs of pleasure fell from her lips as his hips steadily rocked into hers, and he relished in any sound he was able to draw out of her. All he wanted to do was make her feel good, that’s all he ever wanted. Her hands gripped his shirt tightly and he wished for nothing more than for her to rip it off of him. His skin burned and pleaded for more. As much as he enjoyed kissing her like this, this wasn’t enough.

He couldn’t wait anymore. He picked her up again and led them over to their shared bedroom, he didn’t even bother turning on the lights as he gently laid her on their bed. Jungkook quickly slotted himself between her thighs and dived straight back to her lips.

His mind felt fuzzy, maybe it was just because he was more drunk than what he thought, but as he ground himself into her clothed core, the sudden realization of everything hit him hard.

They haven’t had sex in months, literal months since the last time he felt the warmth of her walls around him. They’ve done other things, but full-blown sex…

“Yuri… please….” He cried as his hand traveled under her dress to hover over her panties. Yuri quickly nodded and that was all he needed to lose his mind.

He pulled her dress up and moved down so he was staring at her clothed core.

He quickly pulled her panties down her legs before his face was buried between her thighs, and he was diving in for his rightful meal. Jungkook was good, using his tongue to work her clit and he had two fingers buried deep inside her, all the while he was practically fucking the mattress in a haste for any kind of friction.

When he said they hadn’t had sex it was more so that Jungkook hadn’t been touched in months. Jungkook was a good husband, always there to take care of his wife when she wanted him. But she never let him take things further. This was just another running problem in their marriage. His sex life was pretty much nonexistent. He never wanted to be that guy, and especially with the fact that their marriage was relatively new and they were still getting to know each other, he knew sex was going to be a tricky subject.

There were clear boundaries set, and he was okay with taking things slow right now, but does it leave him frustrated sometimes? Yes, extremely.

The amount of times Jungkook has done this for her, he knew her patterns and how to get her cumming on his tongue in no time. Her moans and pleas were all music to his ears, knowing he was doing something right for once.

By the time he pulled away, Jungkook was hardly keeping it together. He practically ripped off his shirt and pants, tossing them off the bed somewhere into the abyss of the darkness.

When he turned back to her, he was practically drooling at how fucked out she looked; Yuri’s hair cascaded around her, reminding him of the angel she looked like on their wedding day, and her dress was pushed up to her thighs and the straps were brought down revealing her tits.

Oh fuck. Now, now, now.

Jungkook hurriedly kissed her, before reaching over to his nightstand, and opening the drawer to grab a condom. The box wasn’t right there so his hand had to search and feel his way around— it didn’t take long, but it was too long in his desperation when he was finally pulling one out.

“Jungkook, wait… what are you doing?” Yuri asked once he finally managed to pull one out of the box.

He looked at her hoping this didn’t mean what he thought it did. He kissed her again and buried himself into her shoulder. “Baby please… wanna feel you…” he pleaded, grinding slowly into her heat. A moan fell from his lips, the friction was desperately needed. He would take anything at this point.

“Been so long… I missed you.” It was bad. His body was crying out for something, and he wanted Yuri to give him just that. It was starting to hurt.

“But it’s late, Jungkook. I’m tired.” Yuri sighed, making his heart drop.

“But…but…” he mumbled. He moved so he could see her face and he could immediately tell she wasn’t joking.

“It’s fine, I promise I’ll be quick. You worked me up so much, just—“

“Jungkook, not tonight, okay?” She grumbled, clearly done with the moment they shared. This is what happens all the time. He didn’t know why he thought it was going to be different considering the occasion, but that didn’t stop him from feeling a bit disappointed.

Jungkook just sighed and rolled off of her. His skin burned with need and he knew he had to do something. It hurt, it had been so fucking long.

He tried not to be mad but he was. He hurriedly got up from the bed.

“I’m going to take a shower… a very long shower.” He huffed.

“Jungkook you better not do that shit in our—“ was the last thing he heard before he slammed the door.

He tried to be calm; he didn’t want to get mad over something like this. The marriage was still new, there were going to be hurdles. It happens.

Today had just been terrible. All the emotions he had tried his best to suppress were coming out; he was angry, he was depressed, he was frustrated. There hadn’t been one moment that he felt like things were okay, today had been just as horrible as he thought it would be and then some since he woke up this morning.

All he wanted was some type of relief.

He quickly turned on the shower to hopefully stop her from hearing him, and got to work pleasing his body in the only way he could. His hand covered his mouth while the other traveled down his body, finally grabbing a hold of himself.

He thought about how today would have turned out if it went the way he wanted. Jungkook would have woken his wife up with every affirmation of how much he loved her, how happy she’d made him since they got married, as he showered her with all the praise his mushy heart would come up with in that moment.

Jungkook wouldn’t have wanted to leave her that morning, but duty calls and with the taste of her still on his tongue he would have gone to work. It was hard to be apart for those few hours. He would have struggled to keep his eyes off his phone as she cutely texted and pleaded for him to be home soon because she missed him so much.

The minute he would have returned Jungkook could hardly get inside before she was tackling him with kisses. She would have been already dressed for their day out, wearing that pretty off-the-shoulder dress with flowers all over it, knowing how much that one drives him crazy. But none of that mattered because the dress was hitting the floor before he could close the door behind him.

Another moment of passion and love as they did it right there on the floor. Jungkook would have been enthralled by her warmth and her love. She would have let her heart’s declarations spill from her mouth continuously as he held her in his arms; that she wanted him here, that she cared for him just as much as he did for her.

Then they were finally able to pull away from each other. It was just long enough that Jungkook could whisk her around Seoul to all the destinations he’d planned to take her. They’ve both lived in Seoul for most of their lives but Jungkook made sure to pick obscure but momentous places around the city that he was sure she’d enjoy:

A jazz lounge for a late lunch, he’d seen videos of the band that played there and he knew it would have been perfect to have in the background as they conversed. He also planned to take her to the mall– one of her favorite spots to go with her friends. He hoped to share some of that excitement and treat her to whatever she stumbled across that day, showing his wife just how much she means to him. He had pictured holding the bags while she dragged him along to wherever she wanted to go, sitting down for hours as she tried out dresses and him struggling to convey that he really meant it when he said she looked beautiful in whatever she put on. There was so much more, a day full of wonders, kisses, hugs. But the night would have ended with a nice, romantic walk by Han River, enjoying the sights and scenery in the cool September air. They would have hopefully gotten the chance to stop by this dessert place Secretary Yu told him about that she promised Yuri would love. Maybe they would have kept walking as they ate and talked their hearts out. Jungkook had practiced all these cheesy lines he hoped she would have liked, at least laugh at, anything to see her smile.

It would have been magical and when they would have made it back to the apartment, they would’ve immediately gone back to the room to end the night with a bang. She would have felt so good, he knew she would. He probably would have lost his mind just having his wife close and by his side. His heart would have melted every time she would look into his eyes. Her hands on him, pleading, pleading for him to make her feel good.

No, maybe… maybe even in this reality, the one where he had a horrible day, even then it would have been so nice to be with her. That’s all he wanted.

He whined and whimpered as his thumb traced along the tip, precum leaking profusely. His hand made quick work of its strokes, hastily trying to chase the pleasure he’d been denied of the whole day.

He had to resist the urge to scream when he ended up spilling all over his hand, stomach, and thighs. It had been way too long.

Jungkook ended up in the shower not too long after, the water cool against his skin to keep the burning desire for more at bay. Instead, he just thought about his day, how shitty it was.

Like of all days, he got coffee spilled all over him? It sounded like something out of a sitcom.

But you…

Suddenly he thought back to you, your long legs and red lipstick. You were definitely one of his saving graces. Without you, he would have been stuck worrying about this launch. That wasn’t completely alleviated, but the team had texted throughout the day that your method had looked promising, and especially considering what they already invested into advertising, the wave of demand would hopefully nearly double by the time the next shipment rolled out. Though it wasn’t going to be exactly the profit they had expected to bring in from this quarter, this method should hopefully in the long run make up for the botched launch.

Without you he might have still been at the office, the teams and him trying his best to come up with some sort of solution in dealing with the consequences and ramifications of such an unexpected fuck up. It was still odd that it had been weeks since production started, and they had only noticed this malfunction now…

He needed to head down to the factories and see for himself what exactly happened, but he already had a few names in mind of people who might not be here for much longer.

But he wouldn’t worry about that now, instead his mind drifted back to you during the meeting today.

He already knew working with you was going to be interesting, and despite the rough start, he was looking forward to seeing where you might go.

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